Break Away

by Van Barrett

  “And you know what else?” Lane traced circles on my chest with his finger. “I'm glad you read my advice column and went so far as to come up with this far-fetched plan to secretly track me down.”

  “You are?” I let out a heavy breath. “You promise you're not creeped out by it?”

  “Okay – yeah. I'm a little creeped out.” Lane fought off a smile. “But it's a flattered kind of creeped out.”

  “Oh. Uh. Well that's good, I guess.” I paused. “You know, I really wanted to tell you earlier. But after you told me about your whole situation with that Buzz guy? I was afraid you'd see me as just another Buzz.”

  “Please.” Lane rolled his eyes. “You are so far from being anything like Buzz.”

  “That's a relief.”

  “You're both pretty and muscular. That's about the only thing you have in common. Except you're like the superhero version of Buzz: prettier and way more jacked.”

  I laughed. “Awesome.”

  “And while you're out winning awards for the best college athlete in hockey, Buzz is still living in his parents' basement and playing Madden on the Xbox.”

  I chimed in. “He's probably reminiscing about all the times he spent with you.”

  “Ew. I hope not. There's not a whole lot to reminisce about, honestly.”

  “You didn't love him?” I asked.

  “Hell no.” Lane laughed. “What I felt for him doesn't even come close. I was just a stupid kid who didn't know any better. But with you, I--” Lane trailed off, licked his lips and swallowed loudly. Seemed like something got stuck in his throat.

  “I really like you,” Lane said at last, almost regretfully. I knew why. There was more he wanted to say, but it was still too early.

  “I really like you too,” I said softly. I hoped someday we might be able to say what I really wanted to say.

  We sealed our words with a kiss.

  And then Lane changed topics. “So what do you think Grand Forks is up to right now?”

  “Going nuts?” I raised my palms.

  “Oh! You know I bet there's a live stream.” Lane fetched his cell phone and, sure enough, found a live stream video feed of downtown Grand Forks.

  We snuggled in close, the two of us staring at that phone screen, and watched our fellow students go wild in the streets. There must have been tens of thousands of people milling around. Just standing in the streets, giving each other high-fives, drinking beers in the open, and shouting “woooo!” and “yeeeah!” non-stop.

  “Wow.” I blinked. “They're pumped.”

  “Yeah they are. All because of you.”

  “Hell.” I stared and watched the citizens of Grand Forks party in the streets. Not wildly, mind you – this wasn't the type of crowd to riot and turn over cars and smash out windows. Grand Forks is way too polite for anything like that. It's just a small, open-minded college town that loves their hockey.

  And that's what I've always loved about it. Thanks to Grand Forks I was able to come into my own.

  And that's the last thought I had before I fell asleep.

  ***

  One week later: a Saturday afternoon.

  “Your arm getting a little sore?” I asked Ells. He sat on my left.

  “You kidding? I stopped feeling it twenty minutes ago. Dead asleep,” Ells said. “How 'bout you, Ocho?”

  Ocho sat on my right.

  “Oh. Yeah. It's all pins and needles.”

  But still the three of us kept our arms extended high into the air, waving at everyone we rolled past. We were the last float in the parade – a route that took us through downtown Grand Forks and ended up back by the Ralph.

  The crowd, a sea of green and white hockey jerseys, cheered and waved back at us. Many of them held up home-made signs. I saw a lot of signs like,

  Thank you River!

  Good luck in the NHL, River Brame!

  Grand Forks is Proud of You River!

  I made sure to point them out specifically and wave at them. And also made sure not to get all misty-eyed.

  “You know,” Ells whispered to the two of us. “Once this parade ends, I might keep my hands up like this until I get home. I'm thinking it might be the most amazing 'Stranger' I've ever given myself.”

  “Huh? What's that?” Ocho asked.

  “You've never done The Stranger?!” Ells asked, shocked.

  “Oh God,” I grunted. “Not The Stranger again.”

  “It's when you make your arm fall asleep and jerk off, dude. Feels like somebody else is doing it. Hence, 'The Stranger.'”

  “Ohhhh,” Ocho grinned. “That does sound like a great idea.”

  “You guys are ridiculous,” I laughed.

  ***

  After the parade ended and dropped us off at the arena, some of the boys wanted to rush right back downtown and keep the party going. They asked me if I wanted to come out too, and I told them I already had plans.

  “Besides, don't you guys have a stranger waiting at home for you?” I joked Ells and Ocho.

  “Yeah, but it shouldn't be any problem getting a real stranger to come home with us. We're heroes right now, dude!”

  I laughed. “Okay. Whatever. Have fun, guys. I'm out.”

  “Later River.”

  I headed off and took a stroll through campus. Lane had told me he'd have to catch the parade on a live stream, because he had to catch up on some work in the computer lab. So I stopped by the journalism building to surprise him.

  Knock knock.

  “Come in,” came his unsuspecting voice.

  I stepped in and found Lane all by himself in the computer lab. Which wasn't a surprise, considering everyone else was most likely celebrating downtown.

  Lane's eyes lit up. “River!” He jumped out of his chair and rushed at me with a hug. I squeezed him tight.

  “Hey bud, how are you?”

  “I'm good! What brings you here?”

  “Just poppin' in to say hi.” I ran my hands over his back. “And maybe see if I could drag you outta here.”

  “Ha! I wish!” With his hands flat on my chest, he leaned away from me. “How was the parade?”

  “Pretty fun. Saw lots of faces. The boys are good and lit and going back out to the bars for more.”

  “Mm. There's a surprise.” Lane looked towards his computer. “I'm finishing up a paper for a psych class, River. I can't leave now. I'm sorry.” He frowned sympathetically.

  “Hey man, no prob. I figured you'd be too busy.”

  “But I might be done in an hour or so, if you wanna wait …?” He bit his bottom lip.

  “Yeah, sure.”

  Lane led me to his desk and pulled out a chair for me to sit next to him. “You might get bored,” he said, sounding worried.

  “Nah.”

  I dicked around on my phone while Lane clicked and clacked away at his keyboard. But Lane was right: I started to get a little bored after a half-hour or so.

  He could probably tell, too. Because I scooted my chair closer to his and started breathing down his shoulder.

  Lane shook his head with a light laugh. “I know you're not doing what I think you're doing, River.” He kept trying to plug away at his keyboard, ignoring my advances.

  “I'm not doing anything,” I lied, even as my fingers brushed up and down his thighs.

  Lane let out a soft, airy sigh. He let his eyes close for a second – but then, determined to get back to work, shook his head and went back to typing.

  “Hm.” I chuckled. “You're so determined.”

  “Yeah … I am …”

  My hand slid higher. Between his legs. I cupped his crotch, feeling his heat through his jeans.

  “Oh God,” Lane moaned quietly, letting himself wilt in his computer chair.

  I rubbed my palm on his package, which was quickly growing harder and longer.

  “You ever fantasized about getting blown in school?” I whispered, my breath on his ear. “Just think. No one else is even on campus. Everyone else is downtown.�
��

  “Oh, God, River,” Lane panted as I grabbed his jeans and unfastened the button. He held his hand over mine, half-heartedly trying to stop me.

  I snuck my hand under the waist-band of his boxers and tugged him.

  “River …”

  Just then, there was a sudden noise. The door knob noisily turning, the door slowly opening.

  I yanked my hand out and sat straight as an arrow. Lane hurriedly buttoned his jeans.

  And in walked …

  “Devon!” Lane said, his voice bristling with relief.

  “Um. Hi boys.” Devon giggled, sounding a little embarrassed herself. “Did I – did I just walk in on something? 'Cause you're both bright as tomatoes.” She pointed towards the door. “I can leave, you know.”

  Me and Lane both shook our heads. “No! No. You don't have to go.”

  She set her bag down and came near us. “It's all tense in here, boys. The atmosphere is all hot and bothered.” She shook her shoulders. “I kinda like it, actually. Now I'm all in the mood to answer some sex questions.”

  “Oh God, Dev,” Lane slapped his forehead.

  Devon walked over and hugged Lane – though he didn't rise from his chair. I knew why: it wouldn't exactly be easy for him in this, er, condition. Then she hugged me, too.

  “Hi River,” Devon said happily. “So good to see you. Especially because this time I'm not waking up in your bed, in your trashed apartment, and still very wasted. Sorry again, by the way.”

  “Don't worry about it.” I waved my hand at her.

  “Hey River, has Lane shown you any of the fan mail he's been getting?”

  “No …” I turned to Lane. “Fan mail?”

  “He hasn't told you?!” Devon's eyes lit up. “Tell him already, Lane!”

  Lane rolled his eyes. “It's nothing special …”

  “Oh, the hell it is!” Devon argued. “He's got people from all over thanking him for the piece he wrote on you, River. People who were silent during the whole debacle? Well, now they're finally speaking up and saying how much they loved Bitch and Moan and the piece on you, too. Even sports fans are writing about how much they loved it – because it wasn't the regular sports puff piece. And they're apologizing on behalf of the haters, who have all crawled back into whatever hole they came from.”

  “No shit?” I slugged Lane's shoulder. “Why didn't you tell me?”

  “'Cause I'm still not sure I wanna keep doing Bitch and Moan.”

  “Ahhh. You gotta, dude,” I said. “It's important. It's only how we ended up together, you know.”

  “Yeah, Lane, listen to your man.” Devon grinned.

  “I'm thinking about it! No promises yet.”

  “Don't worry, River, he will.” Devon nodded. “I'm gonna make him, because I'm not doing this alone.”

  I laughed. “Good.”

  ***

  After Lane and Devon did a little work, the three of us went out for dinner. We hung out and, although me and Lane weren't drinking, we kept Devon company while she had a couple drinks. She had plans to meet up with a group of friends, and was excited at the prospect of meeting up with a 'cute guy' she'd been texting.

  Once we'd handed Devon off to her friends, me and Lane walked back through campus at night, heading for my place.

  “I love Devon, but thank God, I've been waiting to get you alone all night,” Lane said huskily.

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah! Ever since you got me all fuckin' worked up in the computer lab, you tease.”

  “Hey. I wasn't teasing, man.” I shook my head. “I would've blown you right then and there, in the computer lab.”

  “Ugh.” Lane's eyes fluttered. “That would've been so hot.”

  “Hey.” I pointed at the journalism building that was just coming into view. “Wanna try again?”

  “Riv~er!” Lane protested. He grabbed my bicep and held on with both hands. “Yes. Yes I do.”

  I grinned. “Awesome.”

  We got in no problem. This time, no one was around for real – and thank God, because we were both sporting erections just at the thought of what we were about to do. But just in case, we locked the computer lab door for the peace of mind.

  Lane sat in his chair while I crouched under his desk. I teased him until his veins stood from his shaft, pumping with the beat of his heart. I jerked him until he oozed pre-cum. And when I thought he deserved to be out of his misery? I opened my mouth and took him in.

  He didn't last long – not in this kinky environment, and not with my hot, swollen lips sucking and smacking on his girth.

  “Oh, fuck!” Lane roared, his fist pounding on the table above me as his seed filled my mouth.

  I swallowed it all down, but I didn't stop sucking.

  Mm. Lane. My boyfriend.

  56

  Free Agent

  – River –

  Before long, the high of the championship started to fade – a fuzzy and warm feeling still, but one that grew more distant as the focus started to shift. We had a little less than a month of school left to go, after all, and that meant the most hectic time of all: cramming for finals. Without hockey, though, a huge block of my schedule suddenly freed up. I was finally free to do what I wanted.

  So me and Lane spent a lot of time together – and without having to run around in secret or worry about being found out. Which made things a lot easier and more enjoyable, and a lot less stressful, too. We could really just relax and be ourselves.

  I actually started to feel like a normal college student in that last month. Just going to class. Eagerly waiting for my boyfriend to get out of class so we could meet up. We still made sure to hang out with all our friends outside of each other, but we definitely were able to actually spend good quality time together.

  And things were pretty normal for us, all things considered. Obviously things might not ever be normal. But all the hate-mail and weird internet trolling that Lane got? Like Devon said earlier, it all disappeared basically overnight. He eventually got back on Facebook, although he kept his profile private from then on.

  But the point is, he didn't feel like he was the target of some hate campaign. Which uh, was obviously a good thing. And ultimately that, along with me and Devon's urging, is what led him to agree to do one more year of Bitch and Moan.

  As for me, well, I don't really care what people say in the first place anymore. I don't seek out what people are saying about me, because us humans tend to have a funny habit where we don't believe the good things people say about us … but we're devastated by the bad things people say about us.

  So, you know. Whatever. I'm sure people say some intolerant stuff about me on the internet, but I'm not gonna go sniffing it out. At the end of the day … all that matters is I focus on playing the game as best I can. And Lane helps me feel whole. Which only makes me play the game even better. So if anyone's got a problem with that, whatever, fuck 'em. I don't care.

  ***

  As for Lane, I knew he was worried I might choose to sign with some team far, far away from North Dakota. I hoped that wouldn't be the case. But the truth was, I really didn't know where I'd sign. I couldn't even receive contract offers until the free agency period began, so it was a bit of a nerve-racking time for us.

  And that uncomfortable haze of uncertainty hovered over us for longer than I think either of us would've liked. We both felt it. I tried to reassure him we'd stay together, but I knew that until my signature was on the dotted line, he'd be worried.

  We'd only gotten closer, after all. He didn't try to stop me from saying the “L-word” anymore. The first time I said it, it kinda slipped out. I'm a little embarrassed to say it, but … we were fucking at the time. I was taking him missionary. And his flushed face? Well, he just looked so cute and perfect. And I covered his neck in kisses. And his eyes were softly shut, his mouth making this small 'o' shape.

  And I just had this feeling sweep over me, and out it came –

  “I love you,” I whisper
ed. I hadn't meant to – I don't think? But I said it regardless. With my cock buried in his ass, of course. Yeah, just a regular ol' romantic, me. Anyway, I kinda hoped he hadn't heard.

  But his eyes opened, and he made the most gentle smile and said with a breathy moan – “I love you too, River.”

  And fuck, man. That was such a sweet moment. A hot moment, too. I thrust into him faster, harder, and it wasn't long before I busted my load inside him. And we just laid there. Kissing and saying it again and again,

  “I love you.”

  “I love you.”

  and each time it felt a little different, like we'd shown each other another piece of ourselves.

  With Lane writhing on my length, I grew hard and we made love again.

  ***

  Months later: the first day of free agency.

  Lane stayed at my place overnight, in preparation for the big day. He handed me a gift the night before. I unwrapped the box and pulled out two jerseys: one my size, one Deke's size.

  “What the heck is this?” I laughed as I held the jerseys up and straightened them out to see the logo across the front. “Oh my God.”

  “Yup. I had to have those custom made.” Lane grinned. “Because wouldn't you know it, the Stouffville Cat Stranglers aren't a real team.”

  “I'm sure Deke would be glad to play for them, though.”

  “Oh, you know he would.”

  We woke up the next morning, and Lane was quiet with nerves. I had a conference call with my agent Pete at noon. That's when teams could officially call me to make offers. I retreated to my bedroom and listened to offers for a couple hours while I was on the phone with Pete.

  A little while later, I re-emerged. Lane, I could tell, was more nervous than ever. His feet bounced rapidly on the floor. Deke, wearing his Cat Stranglers jersey, sat in Lane's lap – probably to calm him. Those two had grown really close over the past couple months.

  Lane didn't ask if I accepted any offers. I think he was too scared to ask. I had to bite my cheeks to keep from telling him. I know I promised I'd tell him as soon as I found out, but I wanted to wait just a few minutes longer.