He Shoots He Scores

by Tricia Owens

  ~~~~~

  The sound bar was brought out and immediately deafening music blasted throughout the Kraken locker room. It was so loud that Adrian could barely hear himself speaking so he compensated by shouting just like everyone else was. It was their first win with Neil on the team, and it felt like they’d won the conference championships.

  Half-naked, Adrian kept glancing at the door of the room, waiting for Neil to come back. Neil was with the team doctor and the trainers getting checked out, so the more time he spent with them, the greater the chance he’d experienced a significant injury. Adrian told himself for the tenth time that all the signs he’d seen on TV indicated a non-major injury. It had become a mantra to prevent himself from flipping out.

  “Any word on Shannon’s condition?” one of the reporters gathered around Adrian’s stall asked him above the blaring music. He hoped the question hadn’t been prompted by his expression, which he now made sure showed a more ‘good friends’ level of concern.

  “I haven’t heard anything, no. I’m sure we should find out soon.”

  “Did you watch from here how he scored the game-winning goal?” another asked him.

  Adrian grinned. “I saw it. I hope everyone saw it. It takes a real competitor to take a hit like he did and still focus on putting the puck in the net. But that’s par for the course for Neil. That’s why he’s here. Because he doesn’t quit and he wants to help the team any way he can.”

  “You think he’s shaken off his fear of being hit?”

  Adrian kept his smile, though he would have preferred to kneecap the reporter who’d asked the provocative question. It was Gerald, the podcast guy whom Neil had apparently had an unfriendly encounter with previously.

  “Everyone’s got a healthy fear of being hit,” Adrian said. “If you don’t, that just means you’ve been hit one time too many times already and you’ve got a screw loose.” He laughed along with the reporters. “Neil was never going to be down for long. You’ll see as this season plays out. The Kraken is going to raise some eyebrows, I guarantee it. Thanks a lot, guys.”

  The press coordinator heeded his cue and herded the reporters out of the room, allowing Adrian to breathe a little easier as he pulled off the last of his undergarments. With a last, wistful look at Neil’s unoccupied stall, he joined his teammates in the showers.

  “I hope you took notes, Patty,” he called over to the Kraken’s enforcer. “You need to send a loud message to the rest of the teams. I’m talking a bullhorn.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Maggie. I’ve got the name and number of everyone who even looked at Neiler wrong tonight. They’ll get the message soon enough. Just give me a chance.”

  “Counting on you, buddy.”

  Patty saluted him. “I’ll earn my paycheck, Maggie. You’ll see.”

  Satisfied that he’d ensured Neil’s safety in future games, Adrian washed up quickly, too antsy to take his time with it.

  His growing anxiety deflated as soon as he re-entered the dressing room.

  “There he is,” he breathed with relief.

  Neil, shirtless, with his right shoulder striped in blue kinetic tape, offered him a wry smile as he mopped at his face with a towel. “I survived, believe it or not. No ambulance this time.”

  Adrian walked over and placed a hand on his unmarked left shoulder, high near his neck. He got in a few squeezes before Neil shrugged him off.

  “What’d the doc and the trainers say?” Adrian asked, suppressing a smile at Neil’s belated response.

  “Pinched nerve.” Neil rotated his taped arm. “I thought I’d broken it. It was numb, like a piece of meat out on the ice.”

  “A piece of meat that knew how to score.” Adrian was proud that Neil had still gone for the puck when no one would have blamed him for curling up protectively.

  Neil smiled a little. “Probably muscle memory.”

  “And your head?”

  “Not an issue. It was only the arm that I was worried about.”

  “I was worried about everything,” Adrian admitted. “It killed me to be standing in here like a water boy while you were down on the ice.”

  Blue eyes licked over him and away. “I wasn’t too thrilled, myself, that you were gone.”

  Guilt rushed through Adrian’s veins. “I couldn’t not fight him, Neil.”

  “No, I know.” There was an edge to the way Neil nodded. “I...liked that you did.”

  Uh oh. Adrian shifted his towel to more fully cover his groin as his dick twitched.

  Neil looked to the door. “I missed the scrum, huh?”

  “Something tells me you timed it so you would.”

  Neil grinned, still with that edge. “Maybe. I didn’t need to hear them pull a one-eighty and tell me I’m the best thing that’s happened to this team. They’ll be looking for my blood in the water with the next game.” He reached down to pull the drawstring on his protective padded shorts, but hesitated. “Is anyone doing anything tonight?”

  “You mean are we celebrating?” Adrian was amused that neither of them had yet brought up the good news. Considering how important a win had been for them, tonight had been the best possible outcome. “Damn straight, we are.” Adrian clapped him on the shoulder again, unable to get his fill of Neil’s bare skin. “Hurry up and get pretty. First round is on you.”

  Neil snorted, but smiled. “We’ll see about that.”

  He shucked his shorts and the athletic undergarments while Adrian pretended to prepare his own street clothes to wear. Once Neil turned away, though, Adrian openly admired him as he walked, bare-assed, to the showers. At the entrance, Neil looked back. Adrian hastily lifted his gaze, but he knew he’d been caught. To his surprise, Neil smirked before heading inside.

  “Well, well, well,” Adrian murmured to himself. He was afraid to hope, but hope felt so good.

  ~~~~~

  About half of the team wanted to go out. The rest had families they needed to tend to. Those up for celebrating met up at the bar of a fine dining restaurant whose manager was a big fan of the Kraken. The restaurant was closed for normal business, but the manager kept the bar and the kitchen open for the team. It was like having their own private restaurant and Adrian couldn’t have been more pleased.

  He was buzzing. Most of them were. Champagne and single malt whiskey had a nasty way of catching up to you quick. But they didn’t have another game for three days, so they could afford a day marred by the hangover that was sure to slam into them later.

  Since it was a classy place, there weren’t TVs behind the bar, but The Play, as they were calling it, was gladly recited several times with slightly different twists by players as the evening wore on, like a legend being told around a campfire.

  “Neil’s arm ended in a bloody stump,” Bastion was saying solemnly while he half-hung off the backup goaltender’s shoulder, “but he said to hell with it. He wasn’t losing to a team from the same state as the Cowboys. He slapped that stump at the puck and it hit the goaltender square in the nuts. Both the sorry bastard and the puck fell into the net. It was the most glorious game of the year.”

  Adrian tipped back his head and laughed. He was growing hoarse from it but nothing was ever going to stop him from laughing, not even the loss of his voice.

  “That’s not how I saw it,” Elias groused from where he leaned against the bar beside several empty rocks glasses. “Neil was unconscious but his synapses were still firing and his limbs were jerking all around and one of them smacked the puck into the net. That simple.”

  “Now I’m unconscious and having a seizure?” Neil rolled his eyes. “I’m waiting for the version where I’m not even at the game.”

  “Aw, that was going to be my version,” Adrian said with an exaggerated pout. “You ruined my ending.”

  “Write a better one,” Neil muttered.

  Adrian used the excuse of inebriation to sling his arm over Neil’s shoulder and mirror Bastion’s pose. “The better version is where I come running out from t
he locker room and in my haste to obtain revenge on your behalf, I trip and accidentally knock the puck in.”

  “That’s his fantasy version,” Elias drawled, giving Adrian a knowing look despite the bleariness of his gaze. “Thank your stars he didn’t attempt that, Neiler.”

  “Him returning to the ice naked is his fantasy,” Neil corrected him, to the amusement of his teammates. “Am I right? You know I’m right. He wants to show off.”

  “A-ha!” Adrian hugged him. “You’re admitting I’ve got a huge dong!”

  “Is this really happening?” Neil asked in between his laughter. “We’re talking about huge dongs right now?”

  “It’s that time of the night, I’m thinking.” Elias chuckled. “I’d better get one more drink in before we’re kicked out. Another round for the boys on me!” he called to the bartender.

  “We’re going to be arrested,” Neil murmured.

  Adrian, still hugging him, dropped his forehead against the side of Neil’s head. “What’s that? What’d you say?”

  Neil turned his head to reply and nearly brushed their mouths together. He reared back, eyes wide, but Adrian just grinned.

  “Play it cool,” Adrian said quietly, still grinning. “We’re all drunk, right? As long as everyone’s drunk, no one’s doing anything they shouldn’t.”

  “Right. Right.” Neil tried to act nonchalant, but his cheeks were red and he wouldn’t look at Adrian. “Maybe you shouldn’t be hugging me like this.”

  “That’s what a sober person would say. We’re drunk, Neil. D-R-U-N-K.”

  “You just blew your own cover by spelling that correctly.”

  “No one said I couldn’t be a smart drunk, did they?”

  “No, but it would defy expectations.”

  Neil’s pleased little smirk was like an injection of champagne straight into Adrian’s veins. He couldn’t believe that less than twenty-four hours ago, Neil had been diving out of his Jeep to get away from him.

  “Grab your drinks!” Elias called out while holding up two glasses of amber liquid. “Hurry before Bastion binge drinks them or whatever it is that teenagers do these days.”

  “I’m not a teenager!” Bastion complained as he strained to reach one of the glasses.

  “You’re the baby, good enough.” Elias slapped a glass into the rookie’s hand, splashing some of the whiskey on him. “Drink up, kid, so you won’t remember tomorrow that all this is going on your credit card.”

  The drinks were distributed and Adrian toasted to Neil, who returned the toast with a lingering look.

  “You were a hell of a hockey player tonight,” Adrian told him, sidling close. He positioned himself to cut him and Neil off from the others, and as he’d hoped, their teammates took the hint and conversed among themselves.

  “Yeah, well, that’s why I get paid the big bucks, right?” Neil said, echoing what Adrian had once said to him.

  “No one paid you to be so dramatic about it, though,” Adrian pointed out. “You have to admit, a simple slapshot would have been more efficient.”

  “True, but then fans wouldn’t buy my jersey and hot women wouldn’t mail me their underwear.”

  Adrian stared at him, agog. “Women mail you their underwear?”

  “They don’t send any to you? Huh. Guess that means I’m more attractive than you are.”

  “I’ll take the hit to my ego and agree with them,” Adrian said, lowering his voice. “You are very, very attractive, Neil Shannon.”

  Their gazes locked and Adrian felt it deep in his lower belly, like embers blown to life.

  “You’re supposed to tell me I’m not so bad myself,” Adrian prompted after a few seconds of them staring at each other.

  “And feed that gigantic ego of yours?” Neil smirked. “I know better than that.”

  “You think it’d make me cocky?”

  “Cocki-er,” Neil said and lowered his attention to Adrian’s lips.

  “You’re the one who said ‘cock’ so why are you looking at my mouth?” Adrian asked.

  “Because you just said ‘cock’.”

  Adrian grinned. “You’re a tease.”

  Resolve seemed to settle behind Neil’s eyes. “Then get me out of here and I’ll stop teasing you.”

  Adrian’s breath stuttered in his lungs. “Are you saying that because you’re drunk?”

  Neil turned away, murmuring, “I’m not that drunk, Adrian.”

  He didn’t need to be convinced. He moved over to his friends, waiting until they noticed him.

  “Neiler and I are heading out,” he said as casually as his hammering heart would allow. “You guys okay with getting home? Anyone need a ride?”

  “You need a ride,” Elias pointed out.

  “Yeah, we’re calling a ride. I meant if anyone wanted to share.”

  “We’re okay,” Elias said before any of the others could comment. “The boys and I aren’t finished with our round.”

  Adrian cringed slightly, hoping Elias hadn’t sounded as obvious to their teammates as he had to him. But maybe he was being paranoid. It wasn’t as though Elias knew anything, anyway. He might think he did...

  “Drink plenty of water,” Bastion said, wagging his finger at Adrian like a mother.

  “Don’t puke in your skates,” Adrian countered with a grin. He gave everyone a nod. “See you next practice. I gotta get the princess home before he turns into a pumpkin.”

  As they laughed, half not knowing why they were laughing but happy for several reasons, Adrian returned to the bar and caught Neil by the bicep. He leaned close to his ear, his eyes on the muscles in the back of Neil’s neck, and murmured, “We’re going.”

  Neil shivered in his grip but didn’t protest. He threw a distracted wave at the others when Bastion called out something and allowed Adrian to lead him out of the restaurant.

  A rideshare driver was right up the block and appeared in two minutes. She didn’t recognize them and drove them in silence to Adrian’s condominium. As they rode, Adrian thought about everything that had led to this point. He thought about the Finals last year, the night they spent together in Las Vegas, the rocky road to getting Neil on the Kraken...So much had gone wrong, and yet here they were, heading toward something Adrian hadn’t thought possible a year ago.

  At his place, Neil exited first without hesitation. Adrian followed more slowly behind him, with his eyes pinned to the tight fit of the other man’s trousers.

  “How’s your shoulder?” Adrian asked as they rode the elevator up.

  “Unless you tie me to the bed frame it should be fine,” Neil said as he leaned against one wall and gazed at Adrian with hooded eyes.

  Adrian leaned against the opposite wall and pocketed his hands. “You’re in a mood, aren’t you?”

  “You complaining?”

  “I’m ecstatic.”

  Neil grinned. “Good.”

  “Curious, though, about the change of heart.” Adrian knew a wiser man would shut up, but Neil wasn’t a one-night stand. Anything that happened to them would affect not only their relationship, but the team. “You seemed pretty adamant earlier about not wanting to fool around with me.”

  “Can’t a man want to celebrate scoring the game-winning goal?”

  Adrian smiled, but he recognized a deflection when he saw it. “No one said you need to score to celebrate a score.”

  Neil looked to the console, checking the numbers. “What floor are you on again?”

  “Why?”

  The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. “Never mind. We’re here.”

  Shelving his thoughts for now, Adrian led him to his unit.

  “I wondered if you might have redecorated,” Neil said as he walked into the living room and looked around.

  Adrian chuckled. “Why would I do that? You think I’m weak enough to give in to peer pressure?”

  “No. I know you’re not.” Neil shrugged. “It was just a thought. You can’t blame me for wondering.”

  “You
’re babbling,” Adrian said softly as he approached him. “Why are you nervous?”

  Neil glared at him and stood motionless as Adrian cupped his face in both hands. “Why would I be nervous?”

  “You tell me.” Adrian brushed his thumbs along his cheeks. “You don’t have to do this to prove anything to yourself. Or to me.”

  Neil wrapped his fingers around Adrian’s wrists. “Stop trying to psychoanalyze me. Maybe I’m here because I’m horny and you’re available.”

  “I’m very available.” Adrian grazed his lips with his thumb. “I just want to make sure you’re here because you want this, not because you feel you need to.”

  Neil’s finger’s tightened to just this side of pain. “My career didn’t end today and I scored the goddamn game-winning goal. I’m tired of tiptoeing around what I want. I’m here to receive my congratulatory fuck, if that’s alright with you.”

  Adrian laughed with delight. “That’s perfect.”

  “Then kiss me,” Neil said, his voice breathier. “Stop making me—”

  Adrian kissed him. It was exactly as he’d remembered it—just as soft, just as firm, just as powerful. Neil moaned and opened beneath him, as though he, too, had forgotten how good their mouths fit together and how delicious the other man tasted. Adrian licked him out hungrily, tilting Neil’s head the way he wanted so he could kiss him deeper. Neil sucked on his tongue and licked back, clearly in no mood to play passive.

  “I want you,” Adrian whispered against his lips before sucking Neil’s bottom lip between his teeth. He tugged his lip before releasing it. “In my bed. Staring into my eyes as I take you.”

  A violent shudder wracked Neil’s body. Adrian managed not to smile in satisfaction.

  “What do you want from me?” Neil asked. “An invitation? A bow around my—”

  “I want you to stop talking and walk backwards to my room.”

  Neil smirked. “You’re not going to carry me?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with those sexy legs of yours.”

  Grinning, Neil pulled Adrian with him as he navigated the condo backward. Adrian gave him a direction or two until they stumbled into Adrian’s bedroom at long last.