Hooking the Hockey Player: Owen

As Subban responded crowing about the lead in I had used, I noticed Lewis and Killhorn talking together. Glancing over at a table in the corner. I followed their line of sight and found their attention on the same thing that had stolen mine all morning. Jake looked comfortable, happy as he sat among his friends.

I watched the kid next to him take a rip from a vape right in the middle of the cafeteria. Weed wasn't my thing, but I knew enough players who medicated after a pretty bad game. Subban chattered away but I watched Lewis and Killhorn talk urgently. Only two word floated through the noise of the cafeteria to me, "dirty fag". My stomach dropped.

Jake stood with his mostly uneaten tray and bussed it.
Lewis and Killhorn stood with the same intent that any player had before they threw down gloves.

"Hey Killhorn, want to play a game of pick up after school?" I asked, hoping to deviate their attention.

Subban piped up, "Yeah. That sounds great but we've got to ask Coach. I'll take you over to see the rink if you want." As I glanced back to reel Killhorn in, he was gone. I cursed under my breath as the food in my stomach turned to lead.

It took Subban way too long to finish his food, especially as my heart rate skyrocketed. I needed to be sure they weren't going to hurt him. The second Subban seemed to slow down I broke, "Want to show me the rink now? Maybe ask Coach if we can play this afternoon?"

"Yeah, sure." The guy was glacial. I needed to move.

I'm sure any observer would think I was particularly paranoid. I scanned the grounds everywhere we went for any sign of the players or Jake. I couldn't see anything despite the halls being filled. How was no one talking about this?

"Where did the guys go?" I asked, saying fuck it to any sort of subtlety.

"Oh, I dunno know. I'm sure we'll find them around here." He sounded so casual. My hands became fists. He had to know.

My heart skipped as we rounded the corner to the back alley and saw them. No Jake. Where was he? The alley was empty save a dumpster. For fucks sake. My vision blurred as rage took me over.

"Hey, guys" Subban yelled to the group.

"Sup, Subban." The group all nodded to me like they hadn't just thrown Jake in the dumpster. Like they weren't all bully assholes.

"Just showing Holt around"

"Yeah, we were on our way to see the rink when we saw you guys." I gritted through my teeth with a fake smile plastered on my face. Keeping my hands in my pockets so they wouldn't see the balled up fists, I scanned the back alley. Jake was clearly in the dumpster. As much as I wanted to end things right then, if he was seriously hurt a confrontation between me and the assholes wouldn't help him.

"Cool man, we'll come too."

Dramatically, I pulled out my phone as the group started to walk over. I actually did have a text, Reese: unimportant now, "Oh hey guys. My girl is texting me to call her. You know chicks. I'll catch up."

I ignored the cat calls that the group made including the horrific images that Lewis conjured. I shoved my phone in my pocket and began walking over to the trash, fearing the worst when I heard the rumbles of it opening.

He climbed out carefully, rolling his arm. I let him see me first before I moved, not wanting to spook him even further. He looked distinctly rumpled and smaller even than he had tried to look in class. How dare people make him feel small.

His eyes met mine as he tactically swept the alley for danger. His lips parted on a gasp before ducking his head. Fuck me. I pushed away from the wall, already going over what I would say to the ambulance dispatch. I kept my anger in check in deference to the emergent situation.

Jake jumped from my hand as I tried to look into his eyes. "Did they hurt you?"

"No." I didn't believe him for a moment as he stared down at his shoes.

"Look at me," I coaxed, trying not to scare him further. "Have they hurt you in the past?" His jaw tightened, his big bottom lip trembled but he said nothing. The stubborn set of his body, so dignified after being dug out of a dumpster, spoke volumes. How could this be normal to him?

"How did you know what happened?"

"They weren't exactly subtle," I spat, "I saw you cross the cafeteria and then immediately they stood up. And then they stood there making casual conversation with me, fucking bastards."

"So what, why do you care?"

"What did you think I was going to do? Nothing?" Did he really think I was just going to stand by and do nothing? How could he think so low of me? My anger surged.

"No one else does." His eyes dimmed, years of pain reflected in their depths.

"This won't happen again. I'll make sure of that," I gritted out. My plan to tell the coach I wasn't playing unless the team manned the fuck up coming together. Although, that was really Plan B. Plan A was to go in swinging and make it clear that Jake was off limits. I couldn't protect everyone, but bullies disgusted me.

His eyes became angry slits, "I don't need anyone to fight my battles."

My breath came in an irritated huff, "You showed you aren't capable of fighting for yourself."

His face melting into anger, his luminous eye flashing. His distracting mouth quirked before he let me have it; "It's your first day. You've met me once. You don't know me at all. You have no right to judge me on how I handle myself. Now go and leave me alone. I don't need saving." I didn't know that someone could be so haughty after they had literally just been thrown in a dumpster. I watched him saunter away, all attitude and defiance. Where had that attitude been when he was fighting? I shook my head wondering how I had become the bad guy in this situation. Even though I was angry, I could feel my cock harden as I watched his ass sway with each step.

He had been hot when he was reticent in class but when he was passionate—jeez, I had to adjust myself. I wondered what he would be like if that passion was put to better use.

The rest of the school day was a haze of irritating questions, answering where I had come from, what my name was and the hellish—"What's a fun fact?" I grumbled that "I play hockey" so I wouldn't have to think of something more interesting. I couldn't stop going back to Jake's face when he told me off. He was so mad, so beautiful and alive. I had to focus myself to keep from getting hard. In other moments I was back in the anger that assholes still threw people in garbage cans. It was such bullshit.

Subban came to pick me up from my Geography class and I resisted saying something or worse hitting him, my father's words about keeping a low profile flashing through my mind.

Hitting the rink was the first edge of calm for me. The ice was uncovered and looked well maintained. It wasn't as commercial as many of the arenas I had skated but I liked the mascots painted on the walls and under the ice. Go Cougars.

For a moment, I wished I had my skates. Nothing cut through the crap going on in my life like skating. Hockey was great, physical and demanding but I loved to skate.

Coach Blevins was nice, a wholesome guy. I wondered why he had such a band of assholes playing for him. He opened up by asking about Mikko Koivu, the captain of the Wild and we just shot the shit about where I wanted to go with my playing.

In pretty good spirits, I left Coach's office. I glanced at my phone, seeing that I could still get in a nice gym session before it got dark when I noticed the sound of feet hitting concrete. Like he was gliding, Jake covered ground like it was effortless, like he was made to run.

His hair looked blond as the sun illuminated him. I knew how I looked after a run: sweaty and red-faced, how was it possible that he could look so at peace. Sure his skin shone with a slight sheen of sweat but it couldn't have been more than would cover his body right before he came.

He looked glorious, determined and attractive and holy hell those shorts were short. I didn't see a tan line as the shorts lifted with each step almost exposing his package. They were so tight and short, like running in boxer briefs. Who the hell was this kid? He's hiding one minute and then showing off the next.

Without thinking my hand shot out and found his arm. Anyone else would have been pulled off-balance but he gracefully stopped on a dime. The squeal that came out of him would have been completely adorable if it wasn't full of terror. Fuck Holt. The kid was just attacked. Maybe don't grab him. My irritation at my own idiocy turned outward, "You're on the running team?"

"Yeah, funny how we keep running into each other."

I couldn't believe it. He's making jokes now, even sucking in air, "Why didn't you run away earlier?"

"Yeah, because that would be manly."

Manly? Who gave a shit about manly? "No, it'd be smart."

I couldn't see the eye roll but I could sense his eyes go toward the heavens as he turned to face me. I had been trying to ignore how good his skin felt under mine as his I held his wrist. I greedily soaked up his skin as it came into view. All perfect and lightly tanned, his collarbones light and dainty but his traps strong. He was perfect and I cursed the flimsy tank for keeping his skin under wraps. I traced his traps down the edges of his shoulders when deep purple marred his flesh.

My fingers reached out and traced the bruise. I was no stranger to bruises and cuts. I had been in more fights on the ice than most but nothing was like this. I set my jaw against the rage that boiled within me at the injustice. How could he let them get away with this bullshit? How could they do this? His skin was hot to the touch, his body already trying to repair the damage the bastards did.

"You said they didn't hurt you."

"Bruises are nothing. You play hockey, would you tell a coach you were hurt if you got a bruise?"

I wanted to press my palms into my temples to relieve the beginnings of a headache but my fingers couldn't stop soothing the ache away. I couldn't believe he was minimizing this. "No, but I signed up for hockey."

"I signed up for high school."

The fucking smile got me. This was not the gorgeous smile he had turned on me earlier. This was the world-weary performance that he apparently thought I would buy. I gave into my irritation and rubbed my hands over my eyes, trying to not yell at him for being a martyr.

"Why are you trying to make this not a big deal?

"Why are you making this your problem?" His eyebrow raised, all attitude. Against my better judgment that spark of life went right to my dick. His cheeks were still flushed, he looked so animated. All I wanted to do was kiss that smirk off his face.

The thought of kissing him brought me back to the problem. Why I was here, why he had bruises. "I heard them. I heard what they called you. I know they're beating you up cause you're gay."

His eyes grew huge, too big for his face. His mouth dropped open in shock before biting out, "Because they think I'm gay."

Fuck me. I couldn't believe it. There was no way Jake was straight. He was either so far in the closet or I had gotten delusional. "So they're wrong? Why are you just letting yourself get beat up then?"

"I'm not letting myself get beat up. They're bigger than me and there's more of them. And what does it matter if they're wrong or right? They think I'm a fag so my agreeing would just make everything worse and if I deny it like I have that does nothing. What does it matter, Owen?" He was actually yelling at me. I hated that he used that awful word, one I heard too often on the ice as a kid.

He was so close to me, my dick pressed against my jeans. "Believe me, it matters."

His eyes searched my face for a long moment. He crossed his arms and muttered, "Yeah, I'm gay."

A genuine, encouraging smile broke across my face, as lust blew through me. I had been sure but his confirmation was all the sweeter. My fingers traced his jaw as I breathed, "Thank fuck". He jolted as my lips touched his and I gave him an out I really didn't want him to take. As ever, he surprised me. His lips opened, inviting me in with a clean, masculine taste all his own.

Jake's hands slid into my hair, no wilting flower. He tugged at the roots bringing our lips closer together along with his hand at my neck. The first touch of his body against mine was heaven. He was all lithe muscle, hot and aching for me. Pre-come soaked my boxer briefs as my hands stole down his turgid back to an ass that would haunt my dreams.

Beautifully responsive, Jake arched into my hands, filling my palms with his luscious ass covered in those damn silky shorts. As I cupped his ass, our cocks rubbed together in front. The caveman part of my brain demanded that I mark him. Jake gasped as my lips left his to trail my lips along his neck.

Jake's hand slipped down to my chest and I couldn't resist flexing for him, making my chest bigger for him. I was rewarded by him tweaking my nipple. With a growl, I caught his lips again. Who was this man? He was all contradictions but I didn't give a shit as his teasing fingers ran around the nub.

I had to stop myself before I took him on the sidewalk. We were dangerously close. With a weak chuckle, I lifted my lips from his and took a small step back creating a gap, "Did I tell you I was a big fan of your uniform?"

Jake blushed, innocent even as his dick pressed obscenely into the tight, shiny fabric. The outline and the wet spot was entrancing, and I had to focus on his face so I didn't get a closer look.

"Yeah, I can see you're a big, big fan."

With a prayer for sanity, I kissed him. "You really don't want to talk about my cock right now Jake. We're at school but that won't stop me from fucking you." He laughed, thinking it was a joke. It was not a joke. Fuck a low profile.

Peeking a sultry look through his eyelashes, Jake murmured, "I don't want to talk about your cock. There are so many better things to do with it."

I couldn't help the laugh, even though it was pained. Who was this kid? Where did the man who was sunken in his chair go? I certainly wasn't complaining about the 180 but I was shocked to my core. "You're trouble." I'm in big trouble. My dad's words echoed in my head. I need to keep a low profile. But how could I possibly do that with this kind of temptation "While I can think of a million better ways to get you sweaty, you should finish your run. I'll see you tomorrow Jake."

I turned away stiffly, my cock pressing painfully against my stomach. For the first moment, I didn't think fuck Buffalo. I didn't wonder if Reese texted me—I didn't care if he never spoke to me again. I didn't even think about my dad's low profile.

I was actually excited to come back for my last year of high school.

Present Day

Jake was trouble, the best kind of trouble. The kind I wanted to get in every single day. I hadn't regretted a moment with him. My hand fished around in my pocket as I prayed. I closed my eyes and wished for us.

The velvet box felt heavy in my hand as I turned to him. The sun broke over his skin as he took in the wonder of our surrounds. I couldn't help myself, reaching for him and putting all my love for him into a kiss. All the love I had for him from the first day had only grown. Who is this man?

With a deep bracing breath, I sunk to my knee in front of him. I would have prostrated myself on the ground if I thought it was necessary. His mouth fell open immediately as I showed him the box in my hand. A tear fell silently.

His hands covered his mouth as I began to speak. "I wanted to show you the horizon Jake; I love you more than anything down below. Anything you see and want, I'll spend my life making it happen. I don't want to spend another sunrise without you, will you please do me the honor of marrying me?"

For the longest moment, worse than his injuries, worse than when he cut me out of his life, worse than any moment imaginable, he said nothing. I couldn't breathe, I should have gone bigger. I should have asked in front of the world, at the All Star game. Maybe I should have done it in front of our parents. Panic set in for the longest moment.

And then he smiled that smile, the one just for me. The one that cemented him in my life. Glorious, blinding and so full of love. "Oh god, yes. Yes. Yes, forever."

Overwhelming joy burst through me as I launched to my feet and caught my fiancé around his waist, spinning him around in the air. This was all I ever wanted. Him. I loved his kind heart, his intelligence, his undying ability to call me on my shit. All the commercials, the games, the money, the fame: nothing was worth it without him. I would stay in Buffalo as a salesman if I could have him.

He cried when he saw the ring and the small diamonds shone from around his finger. He shone brighter. I tweeted out a picture of him kissing me with his newly adorned hand holding my jaw. I wasn't going to have the world not know he was mine for another second, mine forever.