by Avon Gale
Riley wasn’t one for casual hookups, but he’d been with a few girls, and he definitely enjoyed it. As for guys… he’d never been with one. He’d thought about it, after talking with Lane, even considered some of his teammates and if he’d make out with them or not. He concluded that he wouldn’t not make out with them. But that didn’t seem like a very compelling case that he might be bisexual. At most he wasn’t not bisexual. He just wasn’t sure.
Until Ethan, apparently.
Riley flipped open his laptop and typed “gay sex” in Google. Then he changed that to “gay porn,” then amended that to “gay porn videos.” That got rid of all the articles. The point wasn’t to read.
Riley stroked himself slowly while scrolling through some sites. Some of the names of the videos made him laugh, but he supposed they weren’t any more ridiculous than straight porn.
Out of curiosity he typed in “gay porn hockey video.” Riley wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but the vast majority of the results were guys getting themselves off for the camera while wearing hockey gear—though it looked more like something you’d wear as an extra in the movie Tron, instead of on the ice. Was that a thing?
Judging by the number of results he found, yes. Yes, it was.
He tried putting in “gay porn hockey goalie,” but the first result was a Deadspin article about a well-known NHL goalie. Sadly there was no video—he looked—and it was also not about Brodeur, which Riley would probably have read, even if he weren’t possibly bisexual.
Eventually Riley navigated through his bookmarks to a folder creatively called “porn I like” and opened it. He clicked on a few links, not really to watch them—except that one with the girls in roller skates, wearing knee socks and pigtails, skating around and falling on each other and giggling and then making out, because that one was awesome. He was looking to see if he had some favorite scenario or something that he could translate into a better search term with the word “gay” in front of it.
Riley almost gave up and just got off to his adorable roller-skate girls when he saw the subfolder called “bad game.” That was where he kept more intense stuff, things he watched when he needed to take his mind off a bad night in goal.
The last time he’d watched any of those was the night they lost the conference finals. There weren’t that many videos, but they all had a similar theme—someone who was all wound up, either fighting, angry, or mad and being restrained or subdued in some fashion. Most of them were videos he found on a fetish website that specialized in bondage.
Sometimes Riley felt guilty watching that kind of stuff. He liked girls, and he didn’t want to grab them and force them or tie them to things, unless they were into that. In which case, he’d love to. It made him feel like a bad person, which was why he didn’t watch the videos all that often. There were disclaimers about the actresses giving consent, but he couldn’t help it.
Riley found a similar video that he clicked on simply because the guy on his knees had tattoos and a shaved head, and it… oh.
The guy with the tattoos was sucking another guy’s cock. Which, okay. Riley liked blow jobs, so that was point one in the “maybe I could like guys” column. He probably needed to like giving them too, for it to be two points, but one thing at a time. Riley couldn’t see the guy who was getting his cock sucked, just his hand on the back of tattoo guy’s neck holding him where he wanted. The guy was saying things like “That’s it” and “Take it” and “More. Come on,” and Riley definitely liked that.
Especially because the guy on his knees was all angry and defiant, and when the camera zoomed out, Riley could see the tattoo guy’s hands were tied behind his back. Another point? Maybe.
Every so often the man would tip tattoo guy’s face up, and he’d say, “Look at me,” and Riley liked that part so much, he watched it three times. He was breathing hard, flushed all over, and the hand on his cock was moving faster as the guy rubbed his thumb over the tattoo guy’s mouth—like he wanted to feel it stretched around his cock. Holy fuck. Was that Riley who just made that noise…?
Gradually angry-tattoo guy’s eyes slid closed as he gave it up and stopped fighting. The other man murmured, “That’s it, take it for me.” And fuck, Riley was so close he couldn’t stop. There was a soft groan, and the man hauled “not so angry now” tattoo guy closer with his hand around the back of his neck, choking him with his cock and coming in his mouth.
Tattoo guy was breathing hard, resting his head on the other guy’s stomach. Riley heard the guy murmur, “Do you feel better now?” And the guy on his knees nodded and that was it, Riley came so hard he saw stars and moaned loudly through the whole thing.
Because, in his head, the guy on his knees was Ethan, and Riley was the one asking him if he was all right, the one who was calming him down by fucking his mouth so hard he choked.
Riley wasn’t sure exactly how many points in the column that got him, but it was probably a lot.
Chapter Three
ETHAN WAS feeling good, a little drunk and a lot cheerful, his arm around some girl named Sarah or Susan or Suzette? Something with an S, anyway. And she was cute and soft and had thick, blonde hair that smelled like cotton or springtime or whatever the hell girls smelled like.
That was the one thing he missed about living with girls. They sure smelled better than a locker room full of sweaty hockey players.
It was a warm night, the ocean a dark blur, and the bonfire totally unnecessary but awesome—like Ethan was in a teen movie and soon everyone would jump up and start a choreographed dance routine. Except he hoped not, because hockey was hard enough. He was not coordinated enough for dancing. Unless it was a drunk Irish jig.
“So you’re from New York?” Suz-an-ette-arah asked, smiling up at him. She was hot. And she was pressed up against his side, her hand resting lightly on his thigh, giving him all kinds of “you could get laid if you don’t end up being a weirdo” signals.
“Yeah,” Ethan answered, watching as Ryan put Zoe on his back, piggyback-style, and went racing off toward the water with her screaming her head off and laughing.
Being in love must be nice. Ethan wondered why the fuck he’d thought that at all.
“I’ve never been there. I’m from Tampa.”
Ethan grinned down at her and pulled her closer. “I’ve been there once. The airport. Hung out on a bench.”
“That’s where Kennedy hangs out a lot,” Ethan’s teammate, Zachary Lawrence, quipped.
“I already made that joke, Lawry. But thanks,” Ethan said. He turned his attention back to Suz-arah, who told him she was a major in computer-software engineering at the University of North Florida.
Ethan’s eyes widened. “Holy fuck. Really? Smart and hot? If you want to dumb down your standards for me, I’m so okay with you doing that.” He knew exactly what she wanted, which was a few hours of fun and nothing more. Which was fine with him. It’d been a while, and he was getting a little tired of his left hand.
“I have a car,” she said when he was trying to work out the details of how to take her somewhere and fuck her like they both wanted. “If you have a place with a bed, we’re good.”
“Yeah. Of course. I’m not that bad of a hockey player.” Ethan followed her to her car, wondering if it was all right if he brought her home and what her name actually was. He didn’t know how to ask that without ruining the evening.
Her car was a cherry-red, brand-new Mustang convertible. “I won it on a game show,” she told him and then sighed. “Yes. Really. Also, no. I’m not lying. I really am a software-engineer student, and I went with a friend to California, and we were on The Price is Right. I won the car on the dice game, but I lost the part where you spin the giant wheel. I got beaten by a guy who was a flight attendant from New Orleans. He lost the Showcase Showdown because he thought an RV cost more than four years of college.”
Ethan stared at her. “You’re either making this up or you have a really weird life.”
“No. That’s re
ally the only thing that’s happened to me that was super interesting. Trust me, the software thing sounds cool, but you’d be really bored if I started explaining it. Where are we going? The car doesn’t drive itself. Yet,” she added with an evil, mad-scientist sort of laugh. It was charming. She was charming, and Ethan didn’t feel right about sleeping with her unless he admitted he didn’t have a clue what her name was.
“Hey, so, I really want to do this, but I have to admit that I don’t remember your name,” Ethan said. He also wanted to come clean about that when they weren’t too far away from the party for him to find another ride home.
“Oh. That’s fine. I don’t remember yours either.” She winked at him, and Ethan burst out laughing.
“Fair enough,” he said, settling back. “Fair enough.”
The apartment was dark and quiet when they got there, and Ethan realized he’d never asked if it was okay if he brought a girl home. But hey. He paid rent. Right? Or theoretically he would whenever Riley got around to telling him what it was.
They went to his bedroom, and she made a note about how nice the apartment was and how obviously he must not be on the bench that much if he could afford it. “My roommate’s the goalie. He’s awesome too. I came home today, and he was stretched out on the floor, in like, the splits.” Ethan spread his arms out wide. “A-fucking-mazing.”
“Hot.” She moved closer, teasingly stroking a hand down his chest. “I know nothing about hockey. And my name’s Sierra.”
Wow. He’d been wrong about that one. “I’m Ethan. I know nothing about computer software, but I’m pretty good with Price is Right games.”
“Holy shit. I thought you said your name was Steven.” She put her arms around his neck. “Kidding. I actually had no idea what it was, just that you were cute. Okay, New York hockey player, I’ve got a test to study for tomorrow. Give me something nice to think about while I’m in the library.”
Ethan drew her closer and kicked out to close his door. “My pleasure.”
She was fun and seemed to enjoy herself. In fact she did so pretty easily, which made him feel like a rock star. He could do a lot more with his mouth than just run it on the ice, and she was definitely into that. So was he. Ethan loved the feel of her long legs draped over his shoulders as she arched against his mouth, and the soft, little breathy sounds she made as he got her off.
She pushed him down on his back, and Ethan put one arm behind his head, gently tangling his free hand in her hair while she took him in her mouth. She was really good, and he wanted to fuck her, so he had to think about something to keep from coming. For some reason he thought about Riley.
He wondered if Riley was awake, or if he could hear them. Or if Riley had a girl in his room too. That stretching thing probably got him laid all the time.
It made Ethan think about Riley earlier, on the floor. And walking in and seeing a girl beneath him. Fuck. That’d be hot. It didn’t even occur to him that it was a weird thought to have while a girl was sucking him off. It did occur to him that he needed to stop thinking it if he wanted to get on with things, though.
Sierra liked it on all fours, from behind. That got him going, because he loved that and sometimes girls weren’t into it. She looked at him over her shoulder, her pretty blonde hair damp and all wild around her face, and said, “I like it because it seems dirtier this way.”
Ethan’s laugh caught on a groan, and he took the hint and fucked her hard like she wanted. They were making a lot of noise, and the headboard was banging into the wall, but he couldn’t worry about that. He’d apologize the next day if Riley was pissed.
“That was great,” she told him later as she sat up and looked for her clothes.
“Hell yeah it was,” he agreed, lying on his back. “Want to stay? I can do it again. I’ve got a lot of energy.” He winked at her.
She looked like she was going to say no. Then she shrugged. “Why not? I didn’t think you’d be that good. No offense.”
“Are there a lot of girls like you in your software-engineering program?” Ethan asked, drawing her down on top of him to kiss her. “If so, can I come visit? I’ll pretend to be your cousin.”
“There’s not a lot of girls in my program at all,” she said, kissing him back. “You’re nice. I expected guys at a party full of professional athletes to be cocky and full of themselves.”
“I wasn’t? Maybe I’m coming down with something.”
Sierra giggled. “I have this rule where I hook up for fun and never get numbers. I won’t break it for you, but I thought about it longer than I usually do.”
“I’m flattered,” Ethan murmured, hand at the back of her neck, holding her close while he kissed her.
She stayed until about six in the morning. Ethan had practice later, which meant he was fucked in more ways than one. It was hard to care about that after the night he’d just had, though. She got dressed, and he pulled on some jeans and followed her into the living room.
Riley was in the kitchen, dressed like he was going running and drinking one of those coconut things he liked so much.
“Oh, hey,” he said, as if there was nothing odd about Ethan walking shirtless out of his bedroom at dawn, following a tousled blonde girl with her shirt on backward. “Going running before practice.” He held his hand out to Sierra. “I’m Riley.”
“The stretchy goalie,” Sierra said, nodding as she shook his hand. “I’m Sierra. I’m a friend of Evan’s.”
“Ethan,” Ethan corrected her, leaning against the kitchen wall, his arms crossed over his chest. “Sierra makes computer games and wins cars on game shows.”
“I am actually designing an open-source encryption algorithm, and it was only the one car. But hi.” She peered around him. “Is that coconut water?”
“Yeah. You want one?” Riley handed her a small green box. “I buy them at Costco. Ethan thinks they’re gross.”
“I’ve gotten used to them.” Either this was really weird, or Ethan needed to sleep. Maybe both. He held his hand up. “Coconut me, bro. I gotta grab a nap.” Riley tossed him a box, and Ethan caught it deftly. “Want me to walk you out, Sierra?”
“I think I know how to find my car. Thanks.” She leaned in and kissed him, surprisingly sweetly. “That was fun. Don’t try and find me or anything. Okay? Not my style.”
“Sure.” Ethan saluted. “It was definitely fun, and no worries. But I do have a much better opinion of Tampa.”
She laughed and then waved at Riley. “Good luck with your whole hockey thing. Thanks for the coconut water.”
Riley waved back, and they watched her walk out and close the door behind her. Ethan could see the sky outside their bay window starting to turn pink. “Fuck, man. I am so screwed.”
“Wasn’t that the point?” Riley gave him a sly grin. “Also I know. You’re loud.”
Ethan was horrified to feel himself blush. “It wasn’t me. It was that bed. Maybe you better call the apartment office and tell them to do a better job screwing in that headboard.”
“I think you did that just fine,” Riley told him and laughed. If he was mad, he didn’t look it at all.
For some reason Ethan was still compelled to say he was sorry. “I didn’t ask you first. If it was okay I had someone stay over.” Ethan cleared his throat and tossed his empty coconut water box at Riley. “I just didn’t want to abuse your hospitality. That’s all.”
Riley shrugged it off and threw both empty boxes into the trash. “You live here too, you know. She seemed nice. Kind of feisty. That your type?” Riley smiled at him, and it was sharp in a way that made Ethan wonder if Riley was mad after all.
“Not really. I mean. I don’t have a type. She was easy—ah. Not like—I mean, she was fun and no strings and…. Go running. Aren’t you going running?” Ethan bumped him with his shoulder. Riley was a nice guy, super easygoing and calm, but there was something about him that made Ethan wonder how much of that was a mask. There was a weird tension in his shoulders and a strange light in
his dark eyes.
He didn’t look mad. Not really. Just tense and focused, like he did on the ice.
“Take a nap,” Riley told him. “Practice isn’t until two.”
“You won’t let me oversleep. Right? I gotta show up today. As in bring my A game.” Ethan winced. “Or maybe my B-minus game. That’ll do. I can get that back with a nap, can’t I?”
“Ethan. Go.” Riley pointed in the general direction of his bedroom. “Of course I won’t let you oversleep.”
Ethan just nodded. He tried to find his usual grin and failed. He was tired. That was all. He turned and headed toward his bedroom. And then, before he could stop himself, he turned and asked, “You sure it’s okay?”
Riley met his cool stare without blinking. “Yeah, Ethan. I’m sure.”
Ethan nodded, went to his bedroom, fell on the bed, and closed his eyes. He could hear sounds from the kitchen. Riley was making himself breakfast, since he actually knew how to cook. There was something weirdly comforting about knowing he could sleep and not worry about being late to practice. He wasn’t used to anyone taking care of him.
LUCKILY FOR Ethan his cheerful attitude and his willingness to put in some extra work on his skating kept him on the Sea Storm’s roster.
To keep in shape, Ethan tried running with Riley. Which meant getting up way too early, whining about it, and borrowing a pair of Riley’s running shoes—because it was too hard to run in Doc Martens—and then nearly killing himself to keep up with his roommate’s easy, comfortable pace along the beach.
The part where Ethan smoked a cigarette immediately before and after their run was probably detrimental to his progress. But hey. It was a start.
Ethan also signed up for some outreach stuff, which seemed to surprise the coach, because Ethan went in to ask about it without anyone telling him to.
“You like kids or old people?” asked Coach Spencer, known as Spence to the team, in his sharp, barking voice. He had a boxer named Slapshot, and that thing about people looking like their pets was totally true.
