Work Text:
Connor has seen and heard the comments people make about him.
puck bunny @oilleaks97
can we talk about how fucked it is that a damn omega is playing in the nhl? he belongs in the fucking kitchen not on the ice
Karman Wazouski @kwnhl
It doesn't matter how "good" the Omega is is, all he'll ever be is a whiny bitch that will run to an Alpha when shit doesn't go his way. Hockey is for Alphas, not bitches.
NHL @NHL
Hear concerns and opinions about an Omega playing in the NHL from the legends.
Tree: "I think that the Ducks should reconsider their choice of letting an Omega play in the NHL. It's completely different from the minors, the skating is faster, the checks are harder, and everything is more competitive. For the sake of the Omega's health and safety, he should not be allowed to play. Omegas can't handle these high stress situations.
Cash: "The NHL is not a suitable environment for anyone but an Alpha. Omegas are simply too weak to play in the show, and here, they won't always have an Alpha to run to for support. Their rightful place is waiting for their Alpha at home, not trying to play against them.
Connor didn't have it in himself to read the rest of the tweet or listen to the entire interview. Not even the National Hockey League had his back! Connor could cope with having a few assholes out there not supporting him, but the NHL?
That was harder of a pill to swallow.
He turned his phone on Do Not Disturb and threw it half way across his and Leo's hotel room. He craved a nest right now, craving the safety of blankets forming a circle around him and the scent of him and his Alpha all around him. Connor would kill someone just to be able to hold the stuffed duck that Leo gave him out of nowhere.
Connor was stupid though, and failed to remember to bring it. He's all the way across the country in Minnesota, and the black and white duck is all the way in Anaheim.
Leo left to get food a few minutes ago, although now it feels like hours. What was really four minutes, felt like an eternity.
Connor felt utterly helpless in the heavily de-scented hotel room, unable to pull himself out of the dark headspace he's put himself in. His anguish was self-inflicted, and that fact made everything worse.
The bland and incredibly white hotel room doesn't smell like Leo and Connor's mixed scent of cedar and cinnamon, with the slightest traces of pine and the residual scent of Pavel from when he stays over.
"Connor?" Leo's deep voice breaks Connor out of his trance. He's been staring at the wall for too long, not blinking, his eyes started watering a long time ago, the salty water threatening to fall down his cheeks. Connor doesn't know rather the tears are from his dry eyes or his self-doubt.
Leo's large hands are cupping his face, touching him like he's something special. Connor doesn't particularly see how he could ever be something special, he's just an Omega who's playing a sport he has no business in playing.
Connor sees Leo looking at the tweets and interviews displayed on his phone screen, eyes wide and jaw clenched.
"You know none of this bullshit is true, right?" Leo asks.
Connor doesn't say anything. What should he say? No, he doesn't know that 'that bullshit' isn't true, and he actually fully believes it. It's actually why he's giving off the most distressed scent he's ever had.
"C'mere, baby." Leo whispers.
Leo scoots closer to Connor, pulling him into his lap for a long and tight hug. If Connor wasn't in the state of mind he's currently in, he would joke about how Leo wants to suffocate him and keep his corpse as a trophy.
But now, Connor just feels immensely grateful that Leo's holding him.
Leo smells like Leo. The cinnamon scent that's strong, but not overpowering, is comforting. Connor, for the first time in half an hour, feels calm. He's okay. He feels really, really good.
"I love you, Connor. You're so sweet and kind, but you don't take shit from anyone. You're strong and confident. Beautiful, gorgeous. You're so good at hockey, and you deserve that draft pick more than anyone else, promise."
"You're just saying that because you're my-"
"I am not just saying because I'm your alpha. You truly deserve everything that's happened to you. You're an inspiration to young Omegas that wanna play hockey everywhere. You are their Sidney Crosby, Connor." Leo laughs, twirling his fingers in Connor's hair.
Connor hugs Leo impossibly harder, maybe even harder than Leo is holding onto him.
They're clinging to each other like one will die if the other lets go. The bone-crushing hold they have on one another is comforting for both of them, settling a deep and largely ignored part of them that yearns for their other half.
Ever since they officially mated with each other, they've felt everything together. Leo can feel whenever Connor gets down on himself and wishes he could crawl into a hole and die. Connor can feel whenever Leo feels like he's carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders and needs to relax.
Connor adjusts his neck so he can press his nose into Leo's scent gland, just below their mating mark. Leo cranes his neck up and to the side, allowing Connor more access to the sensitive part of his neck, and his eyes slip shut.
Connor feels himself purring before his mind can catch up with the fact that he's so content that he's actually fucking purring. Since he's started playing in the NHL, he's been too uptight and overwhelmed to relax enough to even think about purring.
The entire scene is so sickeningly domestic.
"Connor?"
"Hmm?"
"This is gonna sound corny as shit but-"
"Don't say it. Don't ruin the moment."
"No, I have to now." Connor can feel a small laugh vibrate in Leo's throat where his cheek is pressed against it, "Please don't let those assholes turn you into someone you aren't. You're so sweet and kind and loving, so soft and gentle with literally everything that can breathe, don't change that. Stay as sweet as you are."
Connor buries himself deeper into Leo's scent gland, "I will, I promise, Leo."