Another Henrik Lundqvist Fanficiton Story

Monday, March 1, 2010

I keep finding these crazy stories. Honestly I'm not searching for Henrik Lundqvist slash fanfic! I'm serious! For those not in the know, slash is male/male. I think anyone can tell looking at Henrik that he is most definitely one for the ladies. And the ladies are very thankful for that! ;) But I'm still jealous of his girlfriend.

Again, if Henrik or his girlfriend, or any family member, New York Ranger player, his brother Joel Lundqvist or anyone other than some other crazy fan looking for info on Henrik, PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS. And remember I didn't write it. Please don't hold it against me when I ask you for autograph some day. Or a photo.

Fic: Sand Of Time (RPS/Aladdin crossover, FRT-13, Ryan Miller/Henrik Lundqvist)

Pairing: Ryan Miller/Henrik Lundqvist

Henrik was waiting already, his back turned to where Ryan was leaning against the wall, watching the other man rock slightly on his heels, his hands pushed deep into the pockets of his dark coat.

This wasn’t the first time they met up like this, and it wouldn’t be the last time, at least if all went according to Ryan’s plans. He didn’t even want to think about the alternatives, because that made him nervous, and being nervous made him over think his plans, by which point, he knew, he would turn out to be too much of a chicken to go through with this because he was too afraid of Henrik calling the next insane asylum and securing him a spot there.

He felt his stomach twist at the thought and took a deep breath, to calm himself down again, before stepping up to the other man on silent feet, until he was standing directly behind him.

“I’ve gotta tell you a secret,” he murmured, his breath ghosting, hot like a desert storm, against the tender shell of Henrik’s ear. He had to do it now, or he would lose his courage again and would never tell him.

Henrik shivered at the almost imperceptible caress and immediately forced his muscles into tension, to hide his reaction.

“Yeah?” he murmured quietly, pretending to be unaffected, and turned his head, to let Ryan see just the corner of his teasing grin. “What secret?”

The grin, Ryan thought, had remained the same, even after all that time. It was as much part of the man as the lithe, sinewy strength his body possessed, and his sense of justice.

Henrik had known that Ryan had watched him all the time, he thought quietly, and he’d waited for Ryan to take the first step. Usually, Henrik took a way more active role in their relationship, challenging him, just like he would challenge a skater coming toward his goal.

He hummed softly. His hands brushed lightly against Henrik’s sides, a feathery caress that belied the strength and almost overwhelming force of Ryan’s feelings toward the other man.

“No matter how weird it sounds, it’s true,” he continued, letting his lips brush against the nape of Henrik’s neck, and this time, Henrik didn’t even try to hide the shudder that gripped his body tightly. They didn’t care that technically, they still were in public. This was New York, nobody paid attention to the two young men at the corner.

“Try me,” Henrik challenged and finally turned around, to look into Ryan’s face.

His eyes, Ryan noticed while he struggled for breath, had the same fire he remembered; the same long, thick lashes that made him want to reach out with a single, clumsy finger and trace the spot where they rested against his cheek when those expressive eyes closed.

He exhaled and leaned an inch closer. His heart rate picked up and pumped blood faster through his veins, until his entire body seemed to tingle in a precarious mixture of arousal, anticipation and the first inklings of dread.

This couldn’t go well. It was too weird. Henrik would laugh about him and never want to see him again, unless it was a game and he was on the other side of the rink.

“I’m…” His voice cracked, and he licked his own lips with quick flicks of his tongue. “I’m a jinni and if you rub my lamp, I’ll fulfill you three wishes.”

The words came out in a rush, and Henrik blinked as he slowly deciphered them. “You what?”

Ryan just shrugged. There wasn’t anything he could add that would make his confession any easier to believe, or his situation any better, and he knew it. He’d made it sound like a joke, but it was the bitter truth, and suddenly, he didn’t want to hide anymore. He wanted Henrik to know the truth – he needed him to know the truth.

“Seriously, Miller, that’s…the worst pick-up line I’ve heard since I was thirteen,” Henrik finally said.

Ryan’s shoulders slumped in defeat, but he didn’t try to defend himself. He didn’t have the strength left. It had taken too much out of him to finally say these words.

Henrik’s breath huffed hotly against Ryan’s face as he laughed, and Ryan closed his eyes – he remembered this laugh, white teeth gleaming brightly in the flickering light of small oil lamps, dark eyes narrowed in glee and amusement, the fine lines in the corners of the other man’s eyes…it made something deep in his chest twist with pain and yearning.

Very slowly, he became aware that Henrik’s laughter had trailed off, and he dared to open his eyes again. For a split second, the face in his memories and the one before him overlapped each other, like a photograph that had been exposed twice.

Henrik’s face was lighter – his hair was several shades lighter than Aladdin’s had been, and his eyes weren’t as dark as the darkest night either, but it was him, without a doubt.

Aladdin had finally returned; reborn after centuries and millennia of waiting.

He had returned in the body of a Swedish goaltender. That was the reason why Ryan hadn’t been able to keep quiet about this any longer. The irrational wish that his words would trigger a buried memory in Henrik hadn’t left him alone until he’d told him.

“So…”Henrik trailed off expectantly.

“So what?” Ryan asked. He felt tired suddenly, incredibly old and disappointed about Henrik – Aladdin! – laughing into his face and not taking him seriously, again.

“So…where is your lamp?” Henrik asked and reached out. His hands brushed against Ryan’s arms and against the nape of his neck, scorching, hot and strong. His eyes flickered suggestively down, to Ryan’s crotch, and back to his face.

Ryan sighed dejectedly. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice nothing more than a whisper. “I’ve been…looking for it for several centuries now.”


He didn’t know if he really could hear disappointment in the soft exclamation, or if it was just his imagination.

“No fulfilling of any wishes, then?” Henrik asked and threaded his fingers gently in the hair at the back of Ryan’s skull, to pull them together until their foreheads touched.

The air escaped Ryan in a shuddery breath, almost a sob, and again, he cursed the fragile human body he was caught in, without most of his powers.

Ever since his lamp had disappeared, he’d been forced to live as a human, grow old, die, and be reborn, again and again, an eternal circle that he couldn’t get out of without help. He envied Henrik – at least Henrik didn’t remember his past lives, neither the one he’d lived as Aladdin, nor any of the others.

“No,” he admitted, his voice low. “Unless you have that damn lamp.”

“Sorry, Ry,” Henrik murmured, his lips brushing against Ryan’s. “But…if you want, we can go to my place and I can fulfill a wish for you?”

His expressive eyes, so close to Ryan’s, were filled with so much earnest compassion that Ryan couldn’t stand it. He pressed his eyes shut and nodded weakly.

He couldn’t say no to this man. He’d never been able to, neither back in the day when he’d still had his full powers as a jinni and Henrik had been Aladdin, one of the many street rats in the town of Agrabah.
Even when he’d served another master, he hadn’t been able to resist this man – Aladdin, who had given his last wish to set him free. There never had been anyone like him, and for centuries, Ryan had hoped that finding Aladdin again would, once again, set him free.

It had, in a way, but he still was caught in a human body, and he still didn’t have his lamp or his powers, and the disappointment of that tasted bitter, despite the relief of Henrik still being here, and still being with him.

Well, he thought dejectedly while wrapping his arms around Henrik’s waist and pulling him close to himself, to inhale his spicy scent that was just a faint image of the markets of Agrabah, even if this was the best he could get, it was more than he’d had for hundreds of years.
Better, he decided while tentatively brushing just the tip of his tongue against Henrik’s bottom lip while they shared a brief kiss, just to enjoy what he had, and to keep it as long as possible.

Henrik responded to the kiss with a small smile; a smile that Ryan hesitantly mirrored. Their fingers tangled, albeit a bit reluctantly, and slowly, they started walking, toward Henrik’s place.

It was the closest to those days that he would come, even if Henrik didn’t remember his past life. Ryan suspected that Henrik wouldn’t believe him a single word if he told him now that he was – that he had been – Aladdin, prince of thieves, and later, sultan of a huge empire.

At least, he thought before tugging on Henrik’s hand, causing him to stumble slightly into Ryan with a small laugh, in this life, Aladdin didn’t have fleas…



Carol said...

This fanfic stuff is insane! But I do love that picture of Henrik!!! One of my faves.

christine said...

That messy hair and smirk gets me every time!

And yeah the fanfic is seriously disturbing or hysterical.

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