Suckerpunch

  “That was the ice,” Ed interrupted.

  Sasha shook his head. “That was the amount of alcohol I could smell on you,” he said calmly. “You kept drinking, even after you were released from the hospital. I saw your house. I watched you pour yourself a drink in the middle of day. You’ve withdrawn from the team, from me. And you’ve grown paranoid.”

  Ed’s silence was so cold that Sasha half expected the bottle in his hands to freeze over.

  “The team has noticed,” Sasha continued. “Your mood swings and your paranoia are causing problems in the locker room. And others have noticed too, the way you threaten Alex, your insistence that he’s there to steal your job.”

  “Alex?” Ed’s eyebrow went up. “Is that what this is about? You’ve not only replaced me as a goalie, but you’ve replaced me as a friend, eh? That’s why you’re doing this…. You don’t need me anymore, because you have Alex around.” He sneered the name, as though it were a particularly foul word.

  “Alex is my friend,” Sasha said. “And the rest of the team likes him. He’s a good goalie. But he is not your replacement.”

  But again it was clear that Ed was set in his train of thought, and nothing Sasha could say would make him deviate. “You’ve been on his side since the beginning. Have you been planning this from the start? My god, Sasha, what’s next? You have a new goalie, a new friend. Is Fanning to be your new brother, as well? Or maybe,” he spit, “you want to skip right over that and fuck the boy, just so you can fuck me over entirely.”

  Sasha looked away. It was only for a second, but it was more than enough for Ed, who knew him so well, to read the truth in the small gesture.

  “You are,” Ed breathed. “You’re fucking him. Fanning.”

  Maybe Alex could pick up on his panic, because he sent a sharp, bright burst of concern along the connection. Sasha, feeling like he was about to topple over, latched on to it, using the bond with Alex as a safety net.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I’m with Alex. But it has nothing to do with you, Eddie.”

  Ed’s lips went flat. “It has everything to do with me.”

  Sasha finally uncapped his bottle of water, taking a sip to calm his racing heart. When he looked back down, Ed’s stare was devastating and furious. “Eddie, I love you. You are and will always be my brother. And Alex can never replace that, because the love I have for him isn’t remotely the same.”

  Too late, he realized his mistake. Ed’s glare went from angry to triumphant. “You love him. The little Para freak. That’s what this is all about, then.” He laughed, a low, ugly sound. “It makes sense now.”

  Fear gripped Sasha’s lungs. Before he could speak, though, an announcement came over the intercom, calling them back into the courtroom.

  The jury had reached a verdict.

  “Eddie, don’t do this,” he pleaded.

  Ed just turned away. “If I lose this, your little Para boyfriend is done.”

  Sasha watched him walk back into the courtroom, dread pooling in his gut.

  Seattle Sports News (@SeattleSportsNews)

  BREAKING! Cascades goaltender Eduard Despres found guilty of DUI, a gross misdemeanor carrying a penalty of up to one year in prison + fine.

  Emma (@Cascadiac)

  Ho. Ly. Shit. Saw a tweet from someone who was there that Petrov testified *against* Despres? This is nuts y’all. Will the Cascades even let Despres play again after this?

  ALEX WAS sitting on the couch at Sasha’s house with his tablet when the front door opened. The TV was on in the background, but it was muted, a local news station flashing a banner about the trial and Despres’s guilty verdict. Alex flipped it off when Sasha trudged in, exhaustion hanging off him, and held his arms open.

  Sasha collapsed into them with a groan, his large form covering Alex’s on the couch. He made a soft, sad noise and snuggled his head down onto Alex’s chest, burying his nose in the T-shirt and pressing his ear against Alex’s heartbeat.

  “You did great, babe.” Alex set the tablet down so he could card his fingers through Sasha’s hair. “I’m really proud of you.”

  He’d followed the trial through a combination of social media and Sasha’s emotional impressions, sending back his own silent support whenever he could. It was impossible to imagine what Sasha was going through; Alex couldn’t begin to fathom what he’d do if it was Shawn on trial, in need of his help and so adamantly unwilling to accept it.

  “He will never forgive me,” Sasha mumbled. “And I don’t blame him.”

  “If the judge is any good, he’ll require counseling and treatment for addiction. Maybe, someday, Eduard will understand why you did what you did.”

  Sasha turned his head so he could look up at Alex. With a gentle smile, Alex curled forward so he could kiss Sasha, letting it deepen naturally as he poured as much love and support as he could through both the bond and the action.

  When the kiss ended, Sasha settled back against Alex’s chest. “Even if he forgives me, it won’t be soon enough. He’s going to tell Coach Henrique… probably tomorrow, if not sooner.”

  Alex sucked in a breath, panic clawing at his chest briefly before Sasha’s tenderness and calm smothered it like a fire blanket over a flame. “We knew this would happen.” Even to his own ears, his words didn’t sound convincing.

  “We did.” Sasha wasn’t freaking out, at least. “And this will be okay. I promise you.”

  It had been a surprise when Sasha sat him down to discuss the trial—with Shawn, who he expected… and Volkov, who he did not. Sasha had explained that he’d had two options: he could lie on the stand and bribe Despres with that support in exchange for not telling anyone about Alex’s Para heritage. Or he could tell the truth… and get Eddie the help he needed while also putting Alex straight in the crosshairs.

  Alex hadn’t hesitated, even with the fear lurking beneath the surface. Shawn and Sasha had voiced their immediate support: if the Cascades chose to discard their best goaltender, they would lose their two best defensemen as well.

  And then Volkov had added his support. Mikhail had looked fiercely brave as he revealed that he was also Paranormal, and that he’d rather leave the NHL and the Cascades with the three of them than sit around and wait for the genetic testing vote to go through.

  With three of their best players and their rising-star rookie threatening to go, they could only hope that it would be enough to stop the Cascades from making the wrong decision.

  “I hear Sweden is nice in April,” Alex said, fingers once more ruffling through Sasha’s hair, tone light.

  “Hush, солнышко. We’re staying in Seattle. Even old frightened men in the NHL offices will not be so stupid as to lose all four of us.”

  Alex could only hope that he was right.

  Chapter Thirty

  Seattle Cascades (@CascadesNHL)

  Two more games to go, and it’s going to be a tight race to win the last wildcard spot in the Western Conference. We’re taking on Detroit tomorrow for two must-win points!

  PRACTICE THE next day was the strangest that Alex had ever attended.

  The four of them—Shawn, Mikhail, Sasha, and Alex—seemed to exist in a bubble of tension and weighted looks that none of their teammates could notice or breach. Every time Coach walked into the room or blew his whistle on the ice, Alex’s shoulders would go up and his head would jerk around to look, just waiting to hear his name called out. He knew Sasha was the same, though Shawn and Mikhail seemed intent on channeling their own stress into a kind of frantic energy, working so hard that an assistant coach had to tell them to relax before they wore themselves out ahead of that night’s game.

  At one point Alex skated to the bench to grab a drink of water. When he flipped his mask up, he caught sight of Dubois leaning over the railing of one of the balconies that overlooked the practice rink. His face was difficult to read from that distance, but Alex was sure that Dubois was staring directly at him.

  Sasha skated up behind him and grabbed his
own bottle.

  “Nothing so far.”

  Alex sprayed down his face, closing his eyes for a minute against the blast of water. When he opened them again, Dubois was turned to look at the other end of the rink—where Shawn was practicing a drill with Otter.

  “Dubois is here.”

  Sasha’s gaze went up at once. “Not looking at you.”

  No, he’s looking at us. All of us, I’m sure of it. “He was a minute ago.”

  “Ach.” Sasha said something under his breath in Russian that sounded like a curse, given his tone. “I just wish this was over one way or another, you know? The waiting, the anticipation of something bad happening, it feels like a weight pressing down on me.”

  The sensation was one that Alex could relate to. “I think Dubois knows that something is up. At least, he suspects.”

  Sasha raised an eyebrow. “Because of one look?”

  Alex shook his head, but he wasn’t sure he could explain. It wasn’t just Dubois, but Coach Henrique also. He’d split Shawn and Sasha up for drills, something he rarely did. And he’d kept Alex working down at the other end with a group of forwards, instead of with either of them.

  In fact, Alex was surprised they’d gotten away with standing at the bench for the last minute chatting.

  A whistle sounded. “Petrov, you’re up!”

  Ah, there it is. Sure enough, Henrique was watching them, his own expression inscrutable. They know Shawn and I are friends. Everyone knows that. And Rico himself made sure Sasha and I would be friends after that road trip in January.

  All he had to go on was a suspicion. It might have been simple paranoia, compounded by the stress of having a metaphorical sword hanging over his head… but Alex didn’t think he was wrong about this.

  “Go, before Rico starts yelling. We’ll talk after practice.”

  The Western Conference playoff berths are pretty much all locked up, but there’s one wildcard spot still up for grabs. The Cascades can take it, but to do so they have to win both games against Detroit and Kansas City AND Arizona has to beat Colorado in regulation on Wednesday AND Los Angeles has to lose on Thursday in regulation or OT.

  u/cascadingstatistics on r/hockey

  AT FIRST he’d assumed that Alex was seeing things or that his nerves were getting the best of him. But with every hour that passed without a word from Henrique or Dubois, Sasha started to wonder… and he started to watch.

  He found Shawn in the locker room before the game against Detroit and stole a roll of tape from his partner as an excuse to sit down beside him and duck his head. “Still nothing?”

  “No. Alex is freaking out.”

  Freaking out might have been an exaggeration, but Sasha could feel his lover’s tension and worry, a tangled web in the back of his mind. He looked over at Alex, who glanced up immediately and smiled tightly when he met Sasha’s gaze.

  When Sasha looked away, his eyes danced over his teammates, all of whom were getting ready for the game ahead, and Coach Henrique—who was standing just inside the locker room doors and watching him. Rico met his eyes and held them for a second, then glanced away unhurriedly.

  And Sasha might have been able to dismiss it, except Misha skated up to him during warmups and bumped their shoulders together before saying, “Dubois is watching us. He’s not in the media box like usual; he’s in one of the VIP suites.”

  When Sasha glanced up, he quickly found the familiar form of the Cascades GM, leaning at the railing in the box suite level and watching the far end of the ice—watching Alex.

  So as much as Sasha wanted to dismiss Alex’s paranoia as such, it was becoming evident that Dubois and Henrique knew something—and that they were watching, waiting.

  “I wish they’d just make up their mind,” he said to Alex during a stoppage in play, halfway through the first period.

  Alex used his stick to clear some ice shavings from his crease. “Me too. It’s hard enough to focus on the game, but the anxiety is making it even more difficult.”

  But nothing happened, and nothing kept happening. They defeated Detroit, and Alex accepted his hugs and head taps from their teammates with a tight smile on his face. They showered, changed back into their suits, and said good night. No one stopped them as they left the arena for the night; there were no calls from Dubois to come to his office and no announcement from Henrique to bench Alex in the final home game.

  Sasha followed Alex and Shawn home, ate leftovers with them standing around the kitchen island while each of them did their best not to talk about whatever was happening.

  And then Sasha and Alex went up to his room, where Sasha pushed him down onto the bed face-first and opened him up without any teasing or flirting. Alex writhed beneath him, burying his face in the pillow to keep noises from escaping as Sasha used two fingers, then three, spreading him open and getting him wet.

  They fucked face-to-face, Alex on his back with his legs wrapped around Sasha’s waist, digging the heel of his foot into the base of Sasha’s spine to get him to go harder, faster. And when Sasha jerked forward, burying himself deep into Alex’s body as he came, Alex dug his fangs into Sasha’s neck and fed, his moans muffled against Sasha’s skin.

  Afterward, they curled up around each other, both exhausted but too nervous to fall asleep.

  “Maybe this is a good thing.” Alex pressed his lips to Sasha’s clavicle and inhaled deeply.

  “Maybe.” Sasha ran one hand lazily up and down Alex’s back, wishing he could relax the stiff lines of tension there.

  Eventually they fell asleep, gripping each other tight and refusing to let go.

  Oliver Marks (@OliverMarksESPN)

  Still unconfirmed, but hearing initial reports that Cascades goaltender Eduard Despres will not be offered a new contract with the team. Despres was convicted Monday of DUI and is currently awaiting sentencing.

  Seattle Sports News (@SeattleSportsNews)

  #BREAKING Cascades part ways with G Eduard Despres. Despres has been with the team for the last eight years and will be UFA on July 1.

  THE NEWS broke while practice was winding up on Wednesday, which was why Sasha didn’t know anything about it until he was walking out of the showers with a towel around his waist and realized the entire locker room had ground to a halt.

  “What’s going on?” he asked Mo, who had stopped halfway through getting dressed and was currently reading something on his phone with his jeans hanging open and a T-shirt thrown over one shoulder.

  Mo glanced up, noticed it was Sasha standing there, and his eyes went wide. “Uh.” He shook his head. “I’m probably not the best one to tell you, man.”

  Looking around the room didn’t reveal any other clues. Confused, Sasha headed for his stall. Most of the team was either showering, finishing up on the ice still, or stuck doing media, but there were about half a dozen guys scattered around at their lockers.

  And no one would look at him.

  Confusion gave way to fear. Everyone was glued to their phones or talking in hushed whispers among themselves, but they’d occasionally pause and look over into the corner of the room—no, Sasha realized, at Alex’s stall.

  Alex, who was on the ice still, determined to prove that he wasn’t giving up on the team regardless of whatever Henrique and Dubois eventually decided. Ice flooded Sasha’s veins. Did the news break, then? Did Eddie go to the press?

  But when Alex finally did come into the locker room a moment later, sweating and still fully dressed in his goalie pads, he didn’t seem scared at all. In fact, his eyes were bright, startled but cautiously happy, and he made a beeline straight for Sasha without bothering to get out of his gear or skates.

  “Did you hear?”

  “Hear what?” Sasha looked around the room once again. “No one is telling me anything. Just got out of the shower and everyone’s acting like NHL is canceling postseason.”

  Alex shucked his glove and blocker, set them down in Sasha’s stall, and fumbled through the shelf above Sasha’s locker.
“You need to see this.” He made a small triumphant noise when he found what he was looking for: Sasha’s phone. “I only heard about it from Ogilve, who sounded pretty shocked, so I don’t know the full thing either.”

  He entered Sasha’s passcode—because that was something Alex knew now, because Alex was his boyfriend, and it gave Sasha a moment of warmth and delight to realize that—and opened Twitter, then passed the phone over.

  Sasha didn’t use Twitter often, though he followed a few local beat reporters, the team account, and his teammates. But he didn’t need to scroll to figure out what was going on, because all of them were talking about it.

  Eduard Despres, goaltender for the Seattle Cascades, will be allowed to walk as of July 1. The Cascades in a public statement this afternoon said they do not plan to offer Despres a new contract.

  “I don’t understand.”

  Alex shook his head, apparently just as baffled as Sasha was. “I don’t either. But it sounds like he’s gone. Maybe another team will pick him up, but he’s off the ’Scades for sure.”

  By now the rest of the team were filtering back into the locker room, most of them from the showers, and conversation was picking up around them as teammates filled one another in on the news.

  “This doesn’t make any sense,” Merkley said.

  Klausman shrugged. “Second DUI, almost certain jail time. I figure it’s a PR issue for the team if they re-sign him, especially if he might not even be able to play next year.”

  Merkley seemed dismayed. “Why not suspend him then? Or wait until the sentencing to know for sure?”

  On Sasha’s other side, Bayer was whispering with Rager, though whispering for them was the equivalent of talking in a normal voice for just about anyone else.