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Timo’s only half-surprised when Dawson hits the penalty box a few seconds after he does. He has a little bit of a temper and it tends to peek out on the ice more often than not. While not as aggressive as most of the players Timo’s seen, it’s there, simmering. Dawson’s always on a low boil, threatening to overflow when no one’s watching. He didn’t argue the call, not out loud anyway, but Timo notes the defiant glimmer in his eye and he stifles an amused chuckle.
They’re shoulder to shoulder, the concept of personal space no longer required or expected. Dawson nudges Timo and Timo huffs in response. He nudges back.
Puck’s in play. Back and forth their teammates fly. It’d be graceful if it wasn’t almost always frantic. Their team demands control. Timo nudges Dawson just below his ribs. It’s a familiar motion, a learned behavior. Dawson doesn’t even try to hide his smile as he leans his shoulder back against Timo’s.
Dawson watches Nico, then Luke catches his attention. Ice flies around them, frozen sparks kicked up by sharp blades. His gaze then settles on Timo, who taps the tip of his stick’s handle against the floor. Anxious, probably, wanting to get back out there. One player in the box was bad enough but two? Dawson taps back twice. Timo snorts through his nose and shakes his head. He can hear Timo muttering an insult in the back of his head. Child. Always had to get the last word in.
Which…well, yeah.
Timo rolls his eyes and taps his stick once.
Dawson taps back twice.
He relents, allowing Dawson this little victory. He’s all smiles and Timo chews on the inside of his cheek; his missing tooth makes him look like a little boy in the right light, mischievous and so unaware of his own charm. Don’t even get him started on the way Dawson’s hair tends to curl out from the back of his helmet, soft and reckless. Timo’s weak to it, defenseless. He smiles back. Idiot.
Dawson replies to the unheard insult with a gentle, knowing nudge.
Two minutes up. Timo flies out of the box with purpose, but not before tapping the top of Dawson’s skate with the blade of his stick. It doesn’t go unanswered, Dawson following his teammate, nipping at his heels. He effortlessly glides past, nudging Timo’s shoulder on the way.
