Hooking the Hockey Player Ch. 05

My chest looked defined, also destroyed but I couldn't help but notice that my pecs looked pretty commendable. Covering my chest were pockets of inflamed, blotchy purple. I looked like I had been in a car accident.

As I wove through campus, I kept my head down. The few reactions I caught were wide-eyed freshman who looked terrified. I wondered if they knew who I was. My German teacher asked me to stay after class. "Sie waren in einem Kampf?" She asked if I was in a fight, in a low voice. I answered affirmatively and then she answered in a vague German idiom, "Aus Schaden wird man klug," which I had to look up later: Adversity is the mother of wisdom.

I couldn't be sure but it seemed like a bolstering idiom so I nodded and snuck out to my car for lunch. I am not one for sympathy. People can shove their pity; I'm just independent. Throughout the day, I caught people staring at me but not in their usual hatemongering way. Instead they all looked really sad for me. I couldn't tell which was worse.

By the end of the day my nerves were fried, I obviously couldn't run so I just collected my things and made my way to the parking lot. Scoping out danger with one eye is not easy, natural selection would have taken me: the wounded zebra mauled by the lion. Danger lurked in every blind spot as I tried to make it out from my locker. When have I ever been lucky? But the danger was not of the usual kind.

I glanced around me, too late seeing Owen talking to a guy on the baseball team. Immediately I tried to duck away, hoping that he didn't see me. "Jake?" Owen called, his voice both a balm for my nerves and the worst possible thing. I was spotted, it's not like I could pretend to not hear him. With a deep sigh, I stood and tilted my face toward him.

His eyes widened in shock then collapsed into anger. Striding forward he grabbed the front of my shirt not unlike what Gregory had done the day before with my hair. His figure was full of restrained violence, his shoulders shook with tension and his jaw was so tight I could almost hear his teeth grinding.

With surprising gentleness, Owen brought his fingers up to my cheekbone and turned my face slightly. It wasn't entirely necessary to examine my eye, it was swollen shut and growing purple: definitely not a trick of the light.

I was almost pulled off balance, we were moving so suddenly. I was being tugged along by the front of my shirt like some recalcitrant toddler. Maybe to the casual observer it looked like Owen had been the cause of my injury and was moving me somewhere to continue his work. The movements made my whole torso feel like it had been dropped in lighter fluid and then set ablaze.

"Owen—"

"No Jake," He growled at me, "You haven't talked to me in a week. Don't start now." Someone's testy, I thought to myself but silently followed him through the halls—well not so much followed but was dragged behind. I only put on the breaks when I saw where he was heading, I was not about to go into the hockey rink. The thing is Owen had three inches and probably fifty pounds on me so I was going where he wanted me to even though the neck of my t-shirt was gapingly stretched.

Owen muscled his way into the locker room. It was hell, tall attractive men in various states of dress that all hated me; I kept my gaze firmly upon the ground. I was in their territory and Owen wouldn't be able to fight them all if they thought I was looking at them. The room fell silent upon our entrance. Owen hadn't let go of me, but from what had seemed a little violent now seemed like a lifeline.

"Who did it?" Owen asked quietly. The silence hung in the locker room heavy. Owen pulled me straight in front of him and lifted my head with a few fingers beneath my chin. One eye swollen shut, I tried to keep the other trained on the floor but Owen wasn't going to let that happen.

"Look at his face." Owen was so carefully restrained, his voice was whisper quiet but it carried throughout the locker room. I didn't have to look up to know that everyone was uncomfortable. I could see pairs of legs restlessly shifting. I feared for Owen's quiet mood, surely the eruption would come. I could only hope to not be in the way of the reckoning. "Who fucking did it?" The cracks were starting to show in Owen's calm demeanor. No one was confused, Owen wanted answers now.

Furtively as I could, I glanced around the gathered guys, they were all darting glances at each other willing someone else to speak. It didn't look likely one of them was going to make a move so I tried. "Owen, it's alright—"

"Shut up Jake," His hand left my shirt for the first time before addressing them, "Are you guys fucking serious? How many of you did it take to beat him up? Two, three? You think that it makes you cool to beat up someone who has never even tried to fight back. No, that makes you cowards but it's even more cowardly to now not claim it." The room was silent in the wake of Owen's fury which had escalated to yelling.

"Here's the thing, he's never going to tell me which of you did it. Because yeah he's gay but he's a way better person than any of you assholes. So I'm coming through on my promise. Anyone touches him they're going to go through me. He's my friend not a punching bag. Now, who the fuck did it." I wasn't pleased that Owen had just outed me, maybe they had all thought it but I had never confirmed it.

Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Kyle stand up and walk to the center of the room. Owen pulled me behind him, correctly taking Kyle's stance as an admission of guilt.

"You did this alone?" Owen growled.

Kyle's eyes flicked to my face and took on a pained grimace, "Yes I did." It was admirable to not rat out your teammate but I hated to see him take on Owen's wrath alone.

Luckily one of the sophomores piped up from the back, "Fuck that dude, Lewis came in here bragging about it." Gregory shot the kid a ferocious scowl he was no match for Owen and he knew it. He wasn't about to bitch out though; he came to stand beside Kyle. Kyle was nearly motionless but Gregory scanned the faces of his other teammates seeing if anyone else was going to fight. No one else was willing to fight Owen whose rage was almost palpable.

"Are you going to double team me too? It might actually be necessary this time. I'm as big as you. Bring it. I'm dropping the gloves," Owen declared looking between the two. Locker rooms are not a good place to fight, close quarters and a bunch of metal and glass to get way more injured than anyone imagined they would get.

I spoke up, feeling small despite being well above average in height. "Maybe this isn't the best place and time." Owen whipped around, death in his eyes.

"Why are you defending them?"

"Because you don't need to defend me." I glared as much as one can with one eye. "I don't like to see violence Owen, not against me and not in my name."

"Then close your eyes." Owen pivoted away from me, angling toward Kyle who just held up his hands in a week impression of a boxing stance. He didn't make any move to defend himself as Owen's fist pounded into his eye socket. It just felt wrong, like he was a victim.

Gregory actually took a few shots, their skirmish began with Gregory shoving Owen. He coupled that with a punch to Owen's stomach. When Owen went on the offensive it was obvious he had held something back with Kyle. He was an animal. Several haymakers fell in quick succession before Owen finished by punching Gregory squarely in the eye. He went down in a whimper clutching the area.

I could see that tomorrow they would be matching me. I felt sick to my stomach as I saw them on the floor. But sicker with myself that I was almost happy to see them there. I abhorred violence and revenge felt sweet. But it was just that revenge and not justice, Kyle hadn't even put up a fight.

With bile climbing my throat, I turned from the scene of stricken athletes and strode out of the locker room. I didn't turn in response to Owen calling my name, shaking in anger and disgust at myself for feeling somewhat satisfied in their comedown. For what seemed like the millionth time that afternoon, Owen grabbed my shoulder and turned me around.

He looked poised to call me out but I beat him to the punch, "Do you feel proud of yourself? That wasn't self-defense; you just punched your teammates, how does that make it any different than what they did?"

"C'mon Jake. It's different. I told them what would happen and they still went and hurt you that's my pride on the line.

"Oh got it Owen. I'm glad your pride wasn't damaged. I hope you feel good about yourself tomorrow when you see Kyle and Gregory's faces." I started to walk away indignant and half blind, not quite the furious look I was going for.

"You know what, I am going to feel good," Owen said as he grabbed my shoulder and spun me around. "It may just be a hockey thing but I stick up for people. Even if I didn't love you I would still be pissed about you getting beaten up for no reason."

For the first time in my life, I did something violent. I learned I have no future in the martial arts but Owen looked shocked as I shoved him, "You can't say that, you don't love me. You don't even fucking know me."

His pupils dilated and it looked like he was taller as he crept closer to me, staring me down. We were almost chest to chest, I could feel his body heat and I wanted to feel his warmth everywhere. Our eyes were locked together, his mouth inches away when he said. "I can say that. I do know you. I know the man who is annoyingly independent, who cares about people who attack him. I know the man who is intelligent and funny, who lavishes affection on other people but bolts when it's time to reciprocate."

His lips brushed against mine. The whisper of his lips killed all my resolve, I would pray for strength and goodness another time. I was going to be selfish, "I love you Jake," he said breaking from our embrace momentarily before I reclaimed him. I swallowed all my misgivings for a moment, Owen was here and he was kissing me and he said he loved me. I fell into him, my hands running up to his chest and cupping his face. I ran my fingertips through his stubble, though his five o'clock shadow was nearing 10 o'clock in length. I loved it though, how manly he was.

The previous 48 hours had weakened my resolve but I remembered as I clung to Owen why this had all happened and why though his lips felt wonderful also hurt like a bitch. "We can't do this Owen. Nothing has changed."

His blue eyes flashed with indignation as he reared back. Rubbing his face in frustration before crossing his arms in front of his massive chest he spat, "Why do you keep doing this? You obviously like me, I like you. Don't lie to me like last time. What's the problem?"

"There aren't any out pro hockey players," I said quietly.

"I know. And?" He sounded almost sarcastic.

I sighed at the annoyed attitude he was displaying, "You saw how it went for Michael Sam; he was a media circus. Teams didn't want him, fans didn't want him. He was not accepted."

He sighed, "No offense to him, but he went in the seventh round. He wasn't really accepted onto the team because he wasn't good enough."

"You don't think him being out affected his rank?"

"Sure, maybe it did but also I don't think that teams would let go a first round talent. If I don't go to the first few teams because they are afraid of the backlash: good I don't want to play for an organization without a backbone.

"I don't want to see you have to compromise."

His voice came out in a rough whisper, "So you're making decisions about my life without me? What if I just decided to come out without a boyfriend? Wouldn't all this not be worth it? I thought that we could make decisions together, I'm tired of being treated like a commodity. All the time, I don't get to make my own mind up and I'm sick of it. My dad says I have to be on both the junior league team and the team here apparently it will show my work ethic. I go to informal work outs all the time. My entire life is about hockey but I deserve to be happy off the ice too."

"Do you really want the press you get leading into the draft to just be about how you fuck dudes? Don't you want them to just base their decisions on your skills?"

"I think they will base their decision to pick me up off what I can bring to the table. People in the league already know I'm gay; I've never hidden who I am from my friends." He stood up taller as if lording it over me that he was out to his friends.

I sighed, we were now just having an argument in the parking lot, "That's different from everyone knowing."

"So what? I just never come out and date girls that I'm not attracted to until I retire from the game? Hopefully I'll play a long time Jake. I don't want to have to pretend. I don't want to have to pretend that you don't mean something to me and I don't want to lose you because of things that might happen. Now you want to date me, right?"

How could I argue against him? "Yes."

His glowing smile returned at my admission, "And I want to date you. I want to be out right now with you but you want me to wait. I'll give you until I'm drafted and then I'm doing it. And I want to do it all with you, please at least give me a shot to make that happen."

With a silent prayer and a mental apology to Owen's dad, I said, "Okay, but you're going to have to stop punching people. I really won't allow that to happen."

He leaned down and pressed a feather light kiss to my bruised cheek bone, "I really won't allow this to happen again and as long as it doesn't there won't be any problems."

"It can't happen again, my mom saw and she wanted to press charges—"

"You should—"

I lifted my fingertips up to cover his mouth, "If it happens again I will. I promised my mom that I would. I told them Owen; I came out to my parents."

Owen lifted me into a swinging hug, twirling me around his big body cheering in delight. Light exploded behind my eyelids as agony threatened to make me pass out. My whimpering gasp had him setting my down with alacrity. I was trying to tame the waves of dizziness that threatened to overtake me as Owen peeled my t-shirt away from my skin.

In a broken voice Owen remarked, "They could have broken your ribs."

"I promise I'm okay." I whispered before plucking his hand, which was holding my shirt up, off and pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

He leaned down and kissed me but didn't fully bring me into his embrace, both a relief and a disappointment. "You have a really fucked up version of okay." He ran his hands down my arms, twisting them around, "Do you have any other injuries I didn't see?"

I shook my head no and got a raised eyebrow in return, okay maybe I deserved it a little bit but it really was the truth this time, "You want to go somewhere and check?" I said with a little bit of a flirtatious air.

"I don't think me seeing your body right now will have quite the affect you think it will. I'd be more likely to hunt them down again rather than fuck you." The threat of violence had me stomach hurting, I didn't want to think about him hurting other people. On the ice if a fight happened that was okay but otherwise I wasn't going to have it. He saw my change in expression and reassured me, "I won't go after anyone, promise." He pressed a kiss to my forehead, "You should go home and get some rest but I'm driving you tomorrow."

We hung out the rest of the week, picking up our usual routine easily. I was right in my assumption that Kyle and Gregory would be sporting black eyes along with me. I could open my eye on Friday and the bruising was yellowing out. In all respects he was perfect, we were perfect. Conversation flowed easily on trips to the ever present Whole Foods. I swore that he would have to get an endorsement deal from them eventually.

Sunday, my parents were out as per usual, and Owen and I were studying in my bedroom. We had kept things pretty hands off for since we had begun speaking again, only a few quick pecks here and there. While I longed to bridge the gap, I wanted him to initiate this time and make it unlike the Toronto trip.

While trying to make sense of wage garnishment as a part of my economics class, I heard Owen throw down his Spanish textbook with a groan. "How's your chest healing?"

Turning toward him, I pulled up my shirt exposing the yellowing skin and the still pink but knitted together scrapes. I had a few deep muscle aches but I felt leagues better. "I'm feeling alright."

His eyebrows rose slightly, "Are you sure?" He started poking and prodding around all the worst areas. He tapped lightly on a splotch right below my collarbone, "How does that feel?"

"Fine," I answered dutifully.

His fingers found another still purple blotch on my ribs, "And here?"

"It's fine Owen." Even though his exploring fingers caused a twinge.

"And here?" His fingers found my nipple and pinched. I arched my back into the sudden bite. "That one looked like it hurt," he smirked, "I bet I can soothe it." He knelt to the nub and sucked it into his mouth, laving it with his tongue.

I shucked my shirt immediately, while my cock threaten to Kool-Aid Man burst through my gym shorts. He released my nipple with a wet pop and claimed my lips. He bit down on my lower lip, Owen was feeling feisty and I was so into it.

He pushed me down onto my back which we recognized as a mistake the second his massive muscular body laid down on mine. I couldn't stop the pained groan from slipping through our kiss. Owen remedied this immediately by flipping us over so that I laid on top of him. "Better?" he murmured. I nodded as I pulled up his ratty penny obscuring him from my gaze.

I had missed the view. He gripped my hips as I rediscovered Owen's body with my lips and mouth and tongue. I loved how his hairy chest and happy trail tickled my nose. I lavished my affection on the sturdy column of his neck and worshiped his cut body.

His hands crept around to my ass, fondling and spreading the cheeks. He momentarily displaced me to rip my shorts and underwear off me. Lifting his ass he helped me return the favor. "Turn around," He commanded hoarsely, his eyes roving over my naked form.

Cautiously I did, my ass now inches from his face as I greeted the fodder of fantasies. Starting as the base, I licked around his cock reveling in his hardness. I traced the prominent vein with my tongue and circled the head before enveloping his dick with my lips. I lapped up the pre-cum waiting for me, tonguing the slit and the area just below where the head meets the shaft. I started bobbing my head, loving the salty taste of him and the smell of man.

I was just establishing a rhythm when I felt Owen suck one of my balls into his mouth. I faltered but kept my attention on his cock as his mouth pressed kissed backward over my perineum to my hole. His fingers rubbed that area between my balls and ass and my cock jerked as his tongue dove in. It had been two long weeks without him and I was more than ready.

I sat up turning my body to straddle him, "I really want you in me."

"That can be arranged," Owen smiled.

I bit my lip, "Can it be without a condom? You know I'm clean."

Owen looked awestruck for a split second before his gaze turned feral, "I've never been with anyone without a condom. I'm clean."

I was done with waiting, with Owen's hands guiding me on my hips, I sunk down on his cock until the head was inside. I threw my head back glorying in the moment. Everything felt more sensitive, and without lube my ass burned. I waited feeling every pulse of his cock until I relaxed, before dropping totally onto his dick. I moaned at the fullness, at how I could feel every ridge of his cock in me stretching me open.