by A. E. Wasp
Paul settled back down. “Okay.” His heart beat hard in his chest. Being around Robbie like this made him feel like a teenager again.
Looking pointedly at Paul, Robbie covered himself with his blanket.
Paul followed suit and soon felt Robbie’s hand reaching over to his leg. With almost imperceptible movements, Robbie paid him back in full for the bus ride. His wandering hand never went exactly where Paul wanted it to as he drove Paul to the edge of orgasm, never letting him tip over.
Robbie got Paul hard and panting, then pulled off until Paul’s breathing settled down, only to do it over and over again.
Robbie was killing him. Not that Paul wanted to come in his pants, that might be hard to hide, but the longer it went on, the less concerned he got. He’d find a way to explain any visible mess.
Robbie finally laid his big warm palm right over Paul’s rock-hard cock. A whine pushed past Paul’s lips, and his fingers clenched on the arm rest. Robbie pressed down, forcing a gasp out of Paul, and then the pressure was gone as Robbie pulled his hand completely out from the under the blanket.
Paul sagged against the chair.
He heard Robbie’s low chuckle. “Night, Paul,” he said softly.
Paul’s head thudded back against the seat as he nodded in response, not trusting his voice.
Robbie turned towards the window, curling up on his seat.
Paul banged his head softly against the seatback. He was so gay. And so, so screwed. Robbie was every temptation he’d ever fought all rolled up into one dark-eyed package.
Is it really so wrong? A small voice in his brain asked. Is it really wrong to be gay? Who is it hurting?
Me, he answered to himself. It’s killing me.
Somehow, despite his internal struggle between what he was, what he wanted, and what he’d believed all his life, he fell asleep.
Paul woke up when the lights fluttered on. The pilot was announcing that they were twenty minutes away from Chicago and they should prepare for landing.
Paul was slumped against Robbie, his arm across Robbie’s stomach.
“Oh, look. The kids are awake,” Lipe said, looking over the seats in front of them, a cell phone held in his hand. “You two are adorable. I got some good pics.” He waved his phone.
Oh God, Paul panicked. Did they know? What had he seen?
Robbie gave Lipe the finger without even opening his eyes. “Fuck off, Lipe. You were practically spooning with Sergei the last flight.”
Sergei nodded. “Is true.”
“You’re comfy, dude,” Lipe said to the goalie. “And warm, like a big personal heater.”
Lipe turned back to inspect them again. “You talk in your sleep,” he said to Paul.
Paul froze. He’d thought he had outgrown that. Heaven only knew what he had said.
“Oh, yeah?” Robbie asked. “What did he say?”
“Couldn’t really tell,” Lipe confessed. “Something about taking a shot. And he was sorry.”
“Sorry to have to know you,” Robbie answered.
“I’m just saying, whoever he rooms with is going to need earplugs.”
Paul froze. “Rooms with?”
Robbie gave him an unreadable look. “Yeah. Rookies share rooms.”
“Oh. Well. I’d better get ready,” he said.
Robbie nodded.
Paul moved over to his seat, put on his shoes and tried to decide if it would be worse to room with Robbie or not to room with him.
He’d find out soon enough which it was going to be.
13
Paul
Another bus met them at the airport, right on the tarmac. Despite all the special treatment, it was still three-thirty in the morning before Paul was opening the door to the hotel room that he was indeed sharing with Robbie.
The hotel was the nicest one he had ever stayed in. He’d gotten an impression of wood, leather, and stately modern elegance as he’d dragged his half-asleep, half-aroused body through the lobby.
Floor to ceiling windows framed what Paul was sure was an amazing view of Lake Michigan, but he only had eyes for the bed. A warm hand between his shoulder blades pushed him gently further into the room.
“Out of the way. If I'm not in bed in thirty seconds, I’m going to fall asleep in the hallway.”
Paul nodded in agreement. He sat down heavily on the edge of the bed furthest from the door and groaned. “Dang, that’s nice.” He barely had the strength to pull his jacket off before collapsing backward onto the plush mattress.
Robbie was methodically stripping next to the other bed. “Unless you’ve got another suit in there, you might want to take that one off.”
“I don’t hardly have any clothes,” Paul admitted. “I haven’t had any time to shop, and my stuff won’t be in Seattle for a few more days.”
“Now you know why I don’t have any furniture. Who has time to shop? Now hang up that sexy suit. You’ve got to put it back on in,” he checked the time, “six hours.”
“I quit,” Paul said, toeing his shoes off.
Robbie threw a pillow at him. “Strip, Dyson.”
Paul put the pillow over his face and groaned again. “I really want to take that as an opening, but I am plumb tuckered out.”
“Is that something contagious?” Robbie said with a laugh.
Paul gave him the finger without even moving the pillow off his face.
“Too tired to move even if I was Sergei?” Robbie asked.
Paul sat up. “Seriously, dude. Dayum.” Paul said before he could censor himself.
Relief washed over him when he realized he didn’t have to. He would never have to around Robbie. My God, Robbie had had his hand on Paul’s dick a few hours earlier. A weight he hadn’t noticed carrying dropped off him and he almost gasped with the feeling of freedom.
Robbie dug through his carry-on for his toothbrush wearing nothing but his white Y-front underwear and that damn necklace. Acting like what Paul had just said wasn’t earth shaking. Like this was a normal conversation. For him, it probably was. He probably drooled over other guys with his friends all the time.
“How do you not stare?” Paul asked, curious, as he made no attempt to not stare at a mostly-naked Robbie. Robbie almost made the ugly as sin, K-Mart underwear look good, and Paul was probably going to get an erection every time he saw a Saint Sebastian medal from now on.
“Years of practice, my friend. As I’m sure you well know.”
Yeah, Paul knew. Figuring out how to not cross the line between the expected locker room dick jokes and outright ogling took practice.
“I try not to be in the shower with him,” Robbie answered more seriously. “I’m sure I’ll get used to it eventually.” He paused and looked up at the ceiling as if imagining Sergei in the shower. Paul was right there with him. “Or not,” Robbie said.
“Is he your type?” Paul asked honestly curious. Did he have a type beyond Robbie?
“Not normally,” Robbie said walking into the bathroom. “But I wouldn’t say no.”
Paul stripped off the rest of his clothes, pulled out his toothbrush, and followed Robbie into the bathroom. Double sinks. Nice.
“It was worse when Bryce was still around,” Robbie said through a mouthful of toothpaste.
“Bryce Lowery? Dude, I had such a crush on him.” He ran his toothbrush under the stream of water, then squeezed out a neat strip of toothpaste.
Robbie reached over and shut off Paul’s water. “Yeah me, too. I had his poster in my room when I was a kid.”
“Did you know he was gay before he came out?”
Robbie spit toothpaste into the sink, and then shook his head. “No. But I’d always thought he might be. More so when we were on the same team. No pun intended.”
Robbie finished before Paul. By the time Paul came back into the room, Robbie was on his back under the covers, arms crossed behind his head and his eyes closed.
Heart beating a little faster than normal and mouth dry, Paul hesitated at the
foot of Robbie’s bed. Were they going to continue anything from the plane? Paul was a bit more awake, and his body was starting to remember how good Robbie’s hand felt.
“Go to bed, Paul,” Robbie said without opening his eyes.
Disappointed and relieved at the same time, Paul did. After plugging in his phone, he slid into the bed. He sighed as his head hit the pillow. It really was a superlative mattress. He could definitely get used to this lifestyle. With the press of a button, he shut out all the remaining lights.
“I actually ran into Bryce in the bathroom of the bar when I was drunk and said something to him about him being gay,” Robbie said into the darkness. “This was before I think he even knew.”
“Oh, dang. Did you die?”
Paul heard the sheets rustle. The light of their cell phones was just enough for Paul to make out Robbie turning on his side to face him.
“I was mortified. In front of his ex-wife, no less.”
“Well, you weren’t wrong. What was it like in real life to meet him? Did it help your crush?” Paul wasn’t sure he would have been able to speak to the man. Bryce Lowery was almost a legend to him.
“It made it worse. Because not only is he gorgeous and a hockey legend, he’s one of the nicest guys you’ll ever meet. Never says a bad word about anyone.”
“I’m bummed I didn’t get to play with him.” He’d missed it by a few weeks. Lowery had retired after a bad knee injury right around Thanksgiving.
“You’ll probably get to meet him. I got to spend Thanksgiving with him and his family and his boyfriend and his friends.”
“Oh, man,” Paul fought the urge to turn on the light. “Were you there at the hockey game? With the kiss cam and everything?” Bryce Lowery’s outing himself with a kiss at an ECHL game had shocked a lot of people. Including Lowery’s boyfriend, apparently. “How was it? I heard his boyfriend freaked out.”
Robbie grunted in annoyance. “Freaked out is a little strong. And he was right to be mad. I know it sounds romantic in theory, but you don’t out other people, man. It’s not cool.”
Hearing Robbie say that lessened a small worry Paul had been carrying around. Yes, Robbie had said in the garage that he wouldn’t out Paul to the team, but now Paul believed he meant it.
“What’s his boyfriend like?” Paul’s question ended on a yawn. Across the room, Robbie yawned in response.
“Dakota?” he asked sleepily. “Younger, closer to our age. Quiet. Serious.” Robbie nestled deeper under the covers, his words coming slower. “He has this cool orchard farm thing out in Colorado.”
Exhaustion returned to Paul’s limbs, crowding out his low-level sexual frustration. “Sounds nice,” he answered in a sleepy mumble.
Robbie’s breathing grew heavier, and Paul felt himself slipping into sleep.
“Paul?”
Robbie’s husky voice pulled Paul off the edge of sleep. He rolled on his side to face the other bed. Robbie’s eyes glittered in the low light. “Yeah?”
Robbie grinned. “I like the way your ass looks in those boxers.”
Paul groaned softly as arousal quickly shoved exhaustion out of the way. “I hate you. And, for the record, I hate your tighty-whities.”
Robbie chuckled, rolling onto his back. “Good night.”
“Night,” Paul said softly. Why did whatever was building between them have to be so fucking easy? Why did it feel so good just to talk to Robbie? Paul hadn’t been so comfortable around someone since — Paul’s mind hesitated at the precipice of the thought, then jumped right over. The only other person he’d ever felt like this with had been Eubee.
Holy crap. Had he been in love with Eubee? Had Eubee been in love with him? Fuck. What crap timing for an early-morning revelation. He had to be on a bus to the stadium in a few short hours.
Tomorrow was going to suck.
14
Robbie
Paul looked like leftover death the next morning. Robbie barely managed to drag him out of bed in time to get dressed and on the bus.
He did find the time to push Paul up against the door for some hot and heavy making out that left them both hard and panting, nothing between them but underwear.
“You suck,” Paul said as Robbie straight-armed him away. “What are you trying to do to me?”
“Fuck if I know.” Robbie’s laugh sounded a little choked. “What are you doing to me, is the real question.”
“Believe me, I have no clue what I’m doing,” Paul answered sincerely, hands slipping down Robbie’s sides and settling on his hips.
With a moan, Robbie let himself collapse back against Paul. He attacked Paul’s neck as he ground their cocks together almost painfully hard. With the high-pitched whimpers and little hitches of breath Paul made every time Robbie’s teeth closed on his skin, it took all of Robbie’s self-control not to give him the mother of all hickeys.
That would be impossible to explain.
A heavy pounding on the door made them both leap away from it. “Five minutes!” the assistant coach cried from the hallway.
“Fuuucccckk,” Paul dragged out, hand to his chest. “I think I just had a g.d. heart attack.”
Robbie wasn’t in much better shape, bent over with his hands on his knees and breathing heavily. “You curse in the weirdest way,” he panted. “You’ll say fuck but not God-damn.”
Paul pulled himself together and punched Robbie on the shoulder. “I don’t take the Lord’s name in vain, and neither should you, you heathen.”
Laughing breathlessly, Robbie took a minute they didn’t have to enjoy the sight of Paul’s erection and tight ass. “Crime to cover that up,” he said as Paul stepped carefully into his suit pants.
“Get dressed, Rhodes, or I’m telling the coach you were too hungover to get up.”
“Oh, I can get it up just fine,” he said, leaning against Paul’s back to prove it to him.
Paul swatted him away, and they made the bus only a minute or so late.
The next hours were filled with workouts, getting to know the ice, and coaching sessions. Robbie was gratified to find he and the coach agreed on the strengths and weakness of the Blackhawk players.
He and Paul interacted no more and no less than any other of the guys. Everyone had someone they naturally gravitated to. Sergei and Lipe were thick as thieves most of the time. And given a choice, Jake ended up sitting next to his fellow first-line winger, Gabriel Jansson.
So he and Paul hanging out didn’t raise any eyebrows. They kept it strictly platonic, except for the way Robbie could feel the energy between them whenever Paul was near. He knew without looking when Paul was behind him.
It made him want to bang his head against a wall. Rationally, he knew better than to get involved with Paul. There weren’t just red flags; there were flashing neon warning signs with skulls and crossbones and ‘here be dragons’ printed along the edges.
The biggest problem was, obviously, Paul’s internalized homophobia. Sure, it looked like he wasn’t having any problems with it right now, but Robbie knew there was a huge difference in how guys reacted before and after a mind-blowing orgasm.
Guilt had a way of crashing down after the brain came back online.
Robbie couldn’t really wrap his mind around the kind of religious homophobia Paul had grown up with. It made zero sense. Surely, Paul must have realized it was all bullshit by now. Maybe after they’d hung out a bit longer.
He should introduce Paul to Bryce and Dakota if he could. Paul probably hadn’t met a whole lot of out gay people growing up in Alabama. That would help.
They’d deal with the whole sleeping with a teammate and how that could end in disaster later. After, you know, they’d actually slept together. So far, it had been a whole lot of teasing with no reward. Robbie had high hopes that would be changing during the traditional post-lunch nap. Paul had better not be planning on getting any actual sleep.
The team lunch dragged on, and by the end of it, Paul was almost asleep in his seat. Only Ro
bbie’s quick thinking saved Paul from picking up the tab for the whole team.
“You tuck him in all nice and cozy, like bug in rug,” Sergei said as Robbie pushed the button in the elevator. “He is growing boy. he needs sleep.”
“I’m fine,” Paul said, leaning against the back of the elevator, arms crossed over his chest and eyes closed.
“Yeah, sure,” Robbie said, leading Paul down the hallway by the arm.
Inside the room, he peeled off Paul’s suit jacket and shirt before pushing him gently down onto the bed. “Did you sleep at all last night?” he asked, crouching down to pull Paul’s shoes off.
“Not much,” he confessed. “Too much on my mind.” He slid his pants off.
Robbie rested his hand on Paul’s shin. “Good or bad?” Regrets?
Paul shook his head. “I don’t know. Confusing. Some good, some bad.” The flirty edge that had been in his eyes the whole day was completely gone. Paul just seemed limp.
Robbie rubbed a hand up Paul’s thigh, trying to convey comfort rather than lust. “Why don’t you take a nap? I’ll make sure you get up on time.”
He stood up, and Paul reached out to grab his wrist. “Stay with me?”
It was what Robbie had been planning, but he’d pictured a more active scenario. “Sure,” he said. “Give me a second.” He undressed to his underwear and climbed into bed next to Paul.
Paul made a happy sound and rolled over into Robbie, burying his head in Robbie’s chest. Robbie didn’t know what was going on in Paul’s head, so he simply rubbed his hands up and down Robbie’s back.
“Why does this feel so good?” Paul asked quietly.
Robbie didn’t have to ask what he meant. They fit together perfectly. They shouldn’t. It should be awkward and new, but it wasn’t. Robbie didn’t trust it. Surely there would be a price to pay later. “I don’t know,” he answered truthfully.
Paul tilted his head up to look at Robbie.
