Chapter Ten

 

 

TROY’S PLANS for New Year’s Eve included a six-pack of beer and a puzzle. Not Dalmatians. He’d finished that one and had indeed framed it and given it to Gabe for Christmas. His plan was so lame he didn’t say anything about it to anyone. He’d made sort of a habit of spending New Year’s Eve on his own. Maybe it hadn’t been by choice at first, but there was something to be said for facing the end of one year and the beginning of another with the only person you could really count on—yourself.

Shane apparently had other plans for the both of them.

After their last game of the calendar year, Shane dawdled in the locker room until everyone left—everyone except Quinn, who was trying to entice Troy to come to some singles party with him for New Year’s Eve.

“I’m sure there are other gay people there,” he said before Troy could tell Quinn to go fuck himself. “I mean, I don’t know for sure, but maybe some of those guys would be into experimenting if they didn’t find a girl?”

Troy just stared at him until Quinn mumbled, shrugged, and gave Troy his usual meaningless, affable smile. If Quinn were an animated character, he’d be some kind of weasel.

“Have a—see you next week,” said Troy finally, unable to wish Quinn good luck at a singles party. He might not want to sleep with women, but he certainly wouldn’t wish Brian Quinn upon them either.

“You too, Coach.”

“I thought he would never leave,” Shane said when it was the two of them. He leaned against his locker, hair wet from his postgame shower, and dressed in his suit pants and an undershirt that was so thin, Troy could see the ink of his tattoos beneath it. “So. You got plans for New Year’s?”

“Didn’t you hear? I’m gonna go hang out with Quinn and the straight people.”

“That sounds like a terrible band,” said Shane with a grin. “Quinn and the Straight People. Quinn and the Straights.”

Troy snorted a laugh. “Not an appropriate comment about one of your coaches. But true.”

Predictably Shane just rolled his eyes. “Lighten up, Coach. You didn’t answer me.”

“You don’t think I’m going with Quinn? He implied there may or may not be other gay people there.” Troy noticed something in Shane’s expression. Some flash of—what? Not jealousy. Jesus. That was the last thing they needed. This arrangement of theirs, this poor-decision sex, was bad enough without adding anything else into the mix. “Wasn’t planning on doing much of anything. Why are you asking?”

“I got invited to a party with some of the guys.” Shane shook his head and pulled on a sweatshirt.

“Sounds like a much better invitation.” Troy wondered if he should go ahead and tell Shane no way right then or let him make the offer Troy knew was coming. The offer he absolutely, 100 percent should not accept.

“Actually I got a better invite for you. You ditch Quinn and the Straights, I’ll ditch my teammates, who will probably get too drunk and puke, and then you and me can fuck in the New Year.” Shane gave him a heated, challenging look that got Troy going like a firecracker. “How’s that?”

Most everything about Shane got Troy going like a firecracker. Which was the reason he should say no… and also the reason he would say yes. “You mean other than a bad idea?”

“Umm… yeah? I mean, everything about this is a bad idea, so that’s nothing new.” Shane moved closer, grabbed Troy by the tie, and pulled him in for a kiss. “Want me to convince you?”

Troy thought about how hot it would be to let Shane suck him off in the locker room and almost said yes. But Shane didn’t need to convince him. Troy knew he was going to agree all along, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

“I’m convinced, but don’t let that stop you.” Troy kissed him. “Though if you’d rather do this somewhere more comfortable—”

He had barely gotten that out when Shane turned them, pushed Troy up against the lockers, and dropped to his knees. He glanced up while he worked at getting Troy’s pants off—something he had become very good at of late. “You could argue while I suck you off, if you want. I know how much you like blowjobs and arguing. Consider it a Christmas present.”

Troy did indeed like both of those things. “And here I didn’t get you anything.”

Shane leaned in and mouthed at Troy’s erection through his boxers, his breath hot through the fabric. He leaned back and deftly pulled Troy’s cock out of his underwear. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that.”

Troy rubbed his thumb over Shane’s bottom lip and grabbed his hair. “Shut up and suck me, North.”

“Yes, Coach.” He took Troy’s cock deep, and Troy’s eyes crossed as Shane swallowed.

Troy didn’t think he could form sentences, so Shane would have to settle for vaguely argumentative moaning. From the way he was jacking himself off while he sucked Troy’s cock, Troy didn’t think he minded too much.

 

 

“HUH.” SHANE took a sip of his beer and fixed Troy with a sharp stare. “I gotta admit, this is not what I thought we were gonna do tonight. What the fuck is that, anyway?”

They sat across from each other at the table in the upstairs room. Shane was clearly confused as hell about the evening’s first activity, as Troy knew he would be. “It’s a puzzle, Shane.”

“Right. Thanks. All the millions of pieces clued me in. I meant, what’s it a puzzle of? It looks like a big red square.”

“It’s a Mark Rothko painting called Black in Deep Red.”

“Yeah? Well, You’re in Deep Denial if you think this is what I had in mind for tonight.” Shane frowned as he turned the box top this way and that. “I don’t even know which way is supposed to be up on this damn thing.”

“That’s what makes it challenging.” Troy took a moment to appreciate how good Shane looked, dressed casually in dark jeans and a crisp white button-down with the sleeves rolled up so Troy could see his sleeve tattoos. “And You’re in the Wrong Place if you think I care. Find the edge pieces. They’re the ones with the edges on them. I don’t know how rudimentary your puzzle skills are.”

“I can’t believe you right now.” Shane drummed his fingers on the table and narrowed his eyes. “I thought I sucked you into agreeing to have sex all night, not do puzzles of squares.”

“Not a modern-art fan?” Troy asked, as though he knew all about Mark Rothko and hadn’t Googled it shortly after he received it in the mail from his parents.

“Troy, you could have told me not to come over if you weren’t interested. I probably still would have sucked you off in the locker room.”

Troy looked up from his pile of puzzle pieces. Shane didn’t sound contrary, he sounded hurt.

Fuck. He sighed. “Look, Shane. I want to fuck you. I’m going to fuck you. And if you don’t piss me off by refusing to help me with this puzzle, I want you to fuck me too. Think you can handle that?”

“You know very well I can handle it,” Shane growled. He grabbed a handful of pieces. “I didn’t realize I had to do a Mensa test to prove it.”

“I like puzzles. It’s why I like coaching.” Troy began to place the edge pieces he’d found in their correct positions. “It’s relaxing. The answers are all there. You just have to sift around until you find them.”

Shane stared at him, but some of the restless discontent had faded and his hurt expression just looked… well, puzzled. “You said that without a single curse word and in an evenly modulated tone of voice.”

“Like I told you. It’s relaxing and I fucking need to relax. That better?” Troy took a drink of his beer. “You surf, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but surfing’s a lot less….” Shane’s expression eased into a smile. “Lame.”

“I don’t know about that. I tried it a few times and thought I was going to die. I was so impressed with myself for swimming past the breakers I just wanted to float around and drink a beer.” He pushed some pieces over at Shane. “Those go on your side. And watch where you’re putting that beer. If the pieces get wet, they can swell up and nothing fits correctly.”

“That’s too easy to make the joke.” Shane moved the pieces away from the beer and the ring of moisture it left on the table. “Also, they make these things called coasters. Might want to look into it. I hear they help.”

Troy didn’t respond, and they made it through about fifteen minutes of sorting before Shane said, “Isn’t there an easier one we could do? Don’t you have one that’s, like, the fifty states or something?”

“Yeah, when I was eight. Stop whining.” Troy paused. “I don’t usually spend New Year’s with anyone but myself, Shane. And I had to get you that chair out of the garage, because I don’t—no one’s ever done this with me before.”

Shane’s smile was less edged, and he rolled his eyes and obediently continued to search for pieces. “All right, all right. I’m not trying to be a dick. I just don’t have the attention span for this. I play a sport that moves fast for a reason, Troy. So I get that it’s meaningful that you’re sharing your super geeky hobby with me, and I… I appreciate it. I’m just trying to explain why I’m going to complain about this in twenty minutes.”

“Thanks for the heads-up.”

“You’re welcome.”

Shane sorted pieces into edges and nonedges. He reached into the pile and grabbed handfuls, which was not how Troy would ever do it, and he had to stop himself from coaching Shane how to do the puzzle correctly. “Umm… So… Alani figured out. About us. That we’re… y’know.”

“Doing puzzles together?”

That got a brief smile. “No, she’d never believe that. She knows me too well.” He looked back at the table and slid a few pieces around with the tips of his fingers. If he started to make zoom noises, Troy would hit him. “She figured out we were, ah… sleeping together.”

“Because you told her?” He meant that to come across as more curious than accusatory, but based on the glare he got, Shane hadn’t taken it that way.

“No. Because some idiot texted me about the blowjob he’d just given me in the parking lot, and it popped up on my screen while she was examining our selfie.”

“You can turn that setting off, you know,” Troy told him.

Shane flipped him off, took another drink, and went back to sorting. “Yeah. But it’s cool. She won’t say anything.”

“I wasn’t worried.” It was clear the two of them were close, and if Shane was going to tell anyone about the two of them, Troy figured it would be her. “She give you a lecture?”

“Nah. She—well, she told me basically that you were my type, so she wasn’t surprised.” Shane scowled at the pile of pieces before Troy could say anything. “Seriously, why did you buy this?”

“I didn’t. It was a Christmas present. My mom gets me a few every year.”

“Did you see your family for Christmas?” Shane asked.

“No. My parents live in the Villages, in Florida. Didn’t really have time to visit, and besides, that place creeps me out. You ever heard of it?”

Shane squinted up at the ceiling. “It’s like Disneyland for old people, right? Where everyone has a golf cart?”

Troy’s laughed. “Pretty much, yeah. Which means I’m waiting for you to make some kind of crack about how I belong there.”

“It’s no fun if you expect it.” Shane slid a few pieces into position on the edge of the table. “Besides, I feel like that’s where I need to go every time I’m in the locker room. Do your parents know that you’re gay?”

“Yeah. I came out right after I quit hockey because they obviously wanted to know why I’d done it. They were understandably upset about the situation, but not my being gay.” Troy shook his head. “They wanted to sue St. Savoy, but of course, I wouldn’t let them.” That was one of the things about St. Savoy’s blackmail that rankled the most. Troy was a firm believer in coming out when it was right for the individual, and St. Savoy had taken that choice away from him—at least where his family was concerned.

He’d taken it away from Xavier Matthews too. When Gabe mentioned the possibility of having Xavier be some kind of positive local role model in the community, Troy had told him in no uncertain terms that it wouldn’t happen unless Xavier made the choice to come out publicly to more than just his teammates. So far that hadn’t happened, and Troy refused to even bring up the possibility because Xavier had a responsibility complex the size of Texas and he’d probably agree to do it even if he didn’t want to.

Shane gave a low whistle. “That St. Savoy guy. Wow. Everything I hear about him…. It makes my skin crawl. I played for some assholes and with some assholes, believe me, but that dude’s in a class of his own.” Shane paused and took a drink. “You think he’s gay?”

“St. Savoy? Please don’t suggest that. I don’t want him in the club.”

Shane chuckled and shook his head. “I just don’t get why he’d have such a problem with it.”

“He had a problem with everything. And I don’t mind talking about my parents, but I’d like to forget St. Savoy exists.” Troy snapped a few pieces together and enjoyed the small satisfaction of finding two amid the chaos.

“Fair enough.” Shane was quiet for a few moments. “My parents don’t know I’m gay.”

“No? Well, I’m sure you’ll tell them when you need to.” Troy studied Shane as he picked up and discarded pieces with his long fingers. “Do you think they’ll have a problem with it?”

“I don’t know, honestly. Probably not? I mean, I think they might have an idea. I’m thirty-six and I’ve never had a girlfriend.”

“Not unusual for professional athletes with busy schedules,” Troy said.

Shane shrugged. “Maybe when I was in the NHL, they would have bought that. I don’t know about now, though.”

Troy drummed his fingers on the table and frowned. “Shane, you’re still playing professional hockey. If anything, this schedule is a bit more gruesome than the big leagues, don’t you think? No catered meals, no airplanes. Long bus rides, games every weekend, and a shitty per diem. I don’t know if it makes things harder, but it definitely doesn’t make it easier.”

Shane propped his elbows on the table and abandoned the puzzle in favor of his beer. “I guess. I’m not really… like, it’s weird. I know I could come out. It’s my last season and no one cares. But I swear to fucking God, Troy, I get so tired of that goddamn narrative about me and my potential,” he said, using air quotes. “And like, I guess it feels like it’s one more thing that didn’t go like it was supposed to.”

Troy might have said something caustic, but he heard the simple honesty in Shane’s voice and messed around with a few puzzle pieces while he tried to think of what he wanted to say. “Maybe nothing went the way it was supposed to, but that doesn’t mean it went the wrong way.”

Shane’s eyes met his, and he slouched down in his chair. “I guess that’s true.” He seemed to shake off his melancholy. “Can we make this some kind of competition or something? Like, the first person to get four pieces together wins?”

Troy considered that. “First person who gets their corner connected wins… wins what?”

“A blowjob? Gets to fuck? Get fucked?” Shane flushed and mumbled, “I mean, if you wanted to go the whole, uh… sex route.”

“I definitely want to go the sex route. I didn’t really invite you over to do a puzzle all night, North. I just thought it’d be nice to actually talk for a bit.”

Shane glanced up at him. “First we’re fucking. Now we’re talking? This is a bad idea, Cally.” His tone was light, but Troy knew he wasn’t necessarily joking.

Hell, he was probably right. Troy had his share of one-night stands and had dated casually a few times through the years, but he’d never sat down and done a puzzle with any of them. Not the time to think about that, though. They should get back to the thing they were good at.

“All right, then. First person to get their corner gets to decide what we do next. How’s that?”

“Sounds good,” said Troy, and they went at it with the determination of two men who liked competition maybe even more than winning. He was much better at it than Shane, but he in no way underestimated his opponent. He knew Shane would play dirty.

“Sometimes I get off thinking about you fucking me after a game,” Shane said, conversationally, as he searched through the pieces. “Like, right after a game. Behind the bench out on the ice.”

Troy could picture that easily. Shane sweat soaked and flushed from winning—it was a fantasy, so that meant they won—bending over while Troy fucked him. Maybe still on skates, so he was taller than Troy. Out loud he said, “What happened to all your gear? It just magically fell off or something?”

Shane was not amused. “Really? You’re thinking logistics instead of how hot that’d be?”

“I’m a coach. We like logistics.” Troy was definitely thinking about how hot it would be.

“You could leave some of my gear on and just pull my pants down,” Shane suggested. “Or you could blow me in the penalty box. That’d be hot.”

“It’d be easier if you blew me,” Troy pointed out as he snapped a piece into place. “Suit pants are easier to deal with than all that padding.”

“You could use the padding to cushion your knees, since you’re so old.”

“Or because the floor of the penalty box is disgusting and I don’t want to explain that to my dry cleaner.” Troy snapped another piece into place. “Really, it’d be easier if I just fucked you in my office. Over my desk.”

Shane was searching with a lot more intent through the pieces as he eyed Troy’s section. “Would you put your tie in my mouth to keep me quiet?”

Troy smiled. “Who said I want you to be quiet?”

Shane sucked in a sharp breath and went back to his puzzle. “Oh look,” he said a few moments later. “I won.” He threw his arms up in victory.

Troy suspiciously peered at the board. Shane had made a corner, but he’d done it by jamming a piece that didn’t belong in between two others. “You’re fucking kidding me. You’re trying to cheat at puzzles?” Troy crossed his arms over his chest and used his coach voice. “Cheaters never win, North. That’s an automatic forfeit.”

“Oh no,” Shane said, eyes wide. He even bit his bottom lip, which made him look absurd. “Gosh, Coach. I’m so sorry. I guess you win and we have to fuck now.”

“No. The deal was the winner gets to choose what we do next.” Troy drummed his fingers on his cheek in thought. “I also have a puzzle with an owl on it. A white owl in a bunch of snow. So it’s probably not that much easier.”

“You bring another puzzle into this, I’m gonna dump a glass of water all over this table.” Shane’s arms were crossed, his face flushed, his dark eyes flashing. “If you really want to keep doing this, I’m gonna go downstairs and watch a movie until you come to your senses.”

Troy gave up and laughed. He was definitely not interested in doing puzzles anymore. “Fine, you brat. I win, so I get to pick. And I want you to fuck me.”

Shane blinked. “Yeah? You were serious about that?”

“Sure. You’re not one of those guys who buy into that whole thing about taking it making you less of a man or anything, are you? That seme-uke bullshit? Because I’m not and I don’t think you are.”

Shane’s mouth fell open. “Did you just make a yaoi reference?”

“Would you stop acting like I’m ancient? I’ve been gay longer than you, Shane. I’ve picked up a lot of knowledge over the years.”

“Someone showed you Tumblr, huh.”

“Bowie’s son, Jason. He’s a goalie in Tulsa for the Phoenixes.” Troy stood up. “Well? You didn’t answer my question.”

“I can’t remember which one is which, with that seme-uke thing. But no, I don’t think it makes me less of a man to get fucked. Hell no. I like switching it up, but honestly, most guys I’ve been with want me to top.”

“Well, this one wants you to top too, so suck it up and get ready to fuck me.” Troy walked over, grabbed Shane’s shirt, and tugged. Shane gracefully got to his feet and seemed to have no problem as Troy dragged him away from the puzzle table and toward the door.

Like Shane, Troy tended to hook up with people who immediately assumed he wanted to top. Which he liked, definitely. But getting railed was on his list of favorite activities, and it had been a while since he’d done it. That was one reason he wanted Shane to fuck him. The other was that he didn’t go in for any of those stupid assumptions about topping and bottoming. He liked to fuck and he liked getting fucked, and if someone thought that was a comment on their masculinity, they could fuck right off and do it with someone else. Troy was nothing if not contrary, and he’d be damned if he wouldn’t enjoy something because straight men didn’t think he should.

Shane fucked Troy on all fours, which was always a favorite, no matter which thing he happened to be doing. Shane definitely didn’t hesitate, and he knew what he was doing. He easily fell into a rhythm and worked Troy’s dick with his hand in time with his thrusts. The initial discomfort faded away fairly quickly, and Troy was glad that Shane had him facing the mirror across from his bed. He liked seeing Shane behind him, sweaty tattooed skin glistening, his face open and honest as he panted for breath.

He even liked the sight of himself, bent over and taking it from someone else—someone younger, physically more imposing—Troy’s height had nothing on Shane’s muscles—and, fine, someone who was his player. Wrong it might have been, but Troy got off on it, no question.

“Think I’d like to fuck you over your desk.” Shane’s fingers were tight to Troy’s hips, and he clearly didn’t have a problem with the mirror thing either, because he met Troy’s gaze in their reflection without pause. “What would you do if I came in after a game and bent you over, huh?”

“Try it and see.” Troy’s arms trembled as he held himself up on his forearms, and his eyes crossed as Shane’s dick hit him perfectly while he rubbed a thumb over the head of Troy’s cock. He dropped his head down and shuddered at how good it felt—the sting of sweat in his eyes and the little shocks of pleasure that echoed in his balls and up his spine as he got closer to orgasm.

“Mmm, fuck, you feel good,” Shane panted. “You look good too. Goddamn. Bent over and taking my cock like that…. You like it?”

“Stroke my cock faster, and I’ll show you how much I like it.” Troy clutched at the bedding and raised his head to see himself, wild-eyed and flushed, seconds away from the edge. Shane wasn’t looking at him in the mirror anymore. Instead he was staring hard at Troy’s back as he concentrated on making it good for both of them.

“You’ll get there when I’m ready.” Shane leaned down and bit him on the shoulder—hard enough that he knew it would leave a mark, leave imprints of Shane’s teeth on Troy’s skin.

Contrary as ever, Troy came two seconds after that and was dimly aware when Shane said, “Oh, of course,” and smacked him on his sweat-soaked back. Troy lost his balance somewhere in the rush of pleasure from his orgasm, but he did manage to raise his head enough to watch Shane as he half collapsed on Troy’s back. He could feel Shane shiver as he came, hear him gasping for breath with his head next to Troy’s.

“That was more fun than puzzles, right?” Shane asked sleepily as they took a moment to simply lie on Troy’s bed and recover.

“Well,” said Troy.

Shane flopped a hand out and it landed on Troy’s upper arm. “Just say yes, Cally, and I’ll blow you at midnight.”

It was already 12:03 a.m., but Troy didn’t bother to tell him that. “Yeah. It was.”

Shane smiled at him, and Troy smiled back.

“We’re so screwed,” said Shane.

“We are definitely screwed.” Troy leaned over to kiss him. That blowjob would have to wait a bit. If there was one thing that remained the same about this and every other New Year’s Eve, it was that Troy wasn’t getting any younger.