by Rachel Reid
But first...
“So good, Kip. So fucking good. Shit... I’m gonna...”
The orgasm ripped through him and he came down Kip’s throat. Kip took it all, humming his approval after he swallowed. Scott gazed at him, dumbstruck, as Kip slid his beautiful lips off. I can’t lose him. Not ever.
“Not gonna lose me,” Kip said. Shit, Scott must have said that out loud.
Kip rose off his knees and climbed onto his lap, causing Scott to topple backward. Kip fell on top of him and kissed him. “Can’t believe you told your teammates,” he said. “And you told them about me?”
“Yup. Showed them a picture, even.”
“Shit. Really?”
“Mm. Wanted to make ’em jealous.”
Kip laughed and his nose wrinkled—it was so cute. Scott kissed him.
He rolled over, flipping them both so Kip was on his back. He kissed his way down Kip’s body, lingering at all his favorite spots.
Kip watched him, grinning, with his hands behind his head. “So what’s next?” he asked playfully.
“I’m going to fuck you,” Scott said, matter-of-factly.
“So soon?”
“Mm... Just give me a minute.” He kissed Kip’s belly, and Kip giggled.
“Your beard tickles,” he said. “I like it, though. It’s sexy.”
“Does it make me look like a hot lumberjack?”
“You remember that?” Kip laughed. “Man, I was trying to be smooth. Didn’t actually think there was a chance with you, but I had to at least let you know that I might be interested.”
“It worked,” Scott said, crawling back up to meet Kip’s lips. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you after you said that.”
“Glad I said it, then.”
They kissed and it was sweet and tender.
“I think it might be your turn,” Scott murmured.
“Mm. Yes, please.”
Scott reached for the lube that he kept in his nightstand and shuffled down the bed. He wrapped a slicked-up hand around Kip’s cock and stroked him as he watched his face change. The flirty little grin melted into a slack-jawed, blissful expression.
“I wanted you from the moment I laid eyes on you, you know that?” Scott said wistfully.
“Really? Wasn’t I asleep or something?”
“I thought you said you weren’t sleeping? Just resting your eyes?”
“I wasn’t. I, ah, just closed my eyes for a second. But I opened them, and I didn’t know who you were. Just thought you were really fucking hot.”
“And when you found out who I was, what did you think?”
“That there was no way I had a chance with you.”
Scott slicked up his fingers and started to gently work Kip open. Kip gasped at the first press of Scott’s fingers against his hole.
“When I came back the second time,” Scott said, “I thought maybe... I thought I caught you looking at me.”
“You definitely did.”
“And the third time,” Scott said, slowly pushing a finger inside, “when you were alone... I came up with a dumb excuse to stay. I don’t even know why. I just wanted to look at you.”
“God,” Kip said, his body squirming on the mattress. “Should have sat in your lap right then and kissed you.”
Scott’s stomach flipped, imagining it.
“What would you have done,” Kip asked, “if I had done that?”
“I don’t know. I would have been so...shocked. I don’t think I would have been very smooth. But...”
“But?”
“I’ll bet I would have kissed you back. At least for a second. I wouldn’t have been able to help it.”
“And then?”
“Then I probably would have run out of there.”
Kip closed his eyes and sighed as Scott added a second finger. “You would have come back.”
“Yeah,” Scott said softly. “I would have.”
“You invited me to that game. I still wouldn’t let myself believe that I had a shot with you.”
“I loved seeing you in the crowd.”
“I was fucking obsessed with you for a couple of weeks there,” Kip confessed. “I, uh... I jerked off a few times. Thinking of you.”
Fuck. Scott’s dick started to fill again. “What did you think about?”
“Imagined what it would be like to—” His words were cut off when Scott curled his fingers to stroke his prostate. “Ah, fuck. So good, Scott.”
“This what you imagined?” Scott asked, bolder as he became more aroused. “Or was it what I’m about to do? Burying myself inside you, fucking you as hard as I want because you can take it?”
“Yes.” Kip’s voice was high and wild. “Imagined you fucking me against a wall. Fuck, maybe at work. I don’t know. Just wanted to feel how strong you are.”
Scott sucked in a breath. “I thought of you too. On the road, when I didn’t even really know you. I wanted your dick in my mouth. I imagined what you’d sound like when you came. I imagined kissing your beautiful mouth. I wanted so much... Fuck. Okay.”
He opened a condom and got himself ready, then grabbed one of Kip’s legs and put his ankle on his shoulder and entered him as quickly as he dared.
Kip cried out, arched his back, and reached out for him. Scott leaned forward enough that Kip could touch his face and shoulders. Then he pulled back and rammed back into him.
“Yes! God, please,” Kip cried. “Just like that, sweetheart. So good.”
Scott fucked him hard and fast, and Kip gazed at him with so much love in his eyes.
“So good, Scott,” Kip said again. “So fucking good. Love you so much.”
Tears prickled Scott’s eyes, which was ridiculous. He felt so good and Kip was so wonderful and he was so happy...
“Touch yourself,” he said, slowing down a little. “Show me what you used to do when you thought about me.”
Kip grinned and started stroking himself. “Still do, sweetheart,” he said. “Can’t tell you how many times this week I did this.”
“Yeah,” Scott breathed.
“I wanna come,” Kip said, head rolling back on the pillow. “I’m so close.”
“Wanna see it. Gonna fuck you right through it.”
“Yes, oh fuck. Yeah, Scott. Fuck, I’m—”
“Come for me, baby. Come on. Show me.”
“Ah! Ah, fuck,” Kip cried, trembling and clenching around Scott’s dick. He slowed his hand as he came. The white strands fell on his stomach. Then Scott sped up his thrusts, suddenly desperate to come.
Kip was still clenching hard around him, and Scott was right on the edge, so fucking close. Just needed that push...
“Come on me, Hunter. Come on. Mess me up.”
Scott growled and pulled out and tore off the condom, barely in time to let his own release fall over Kip.
“Oh my god,” he panted, staring at the mess they’d both made on Kip’s stomach. “So fucking hot, Kip. I love you.”
“I love you. You’re amazing. Come here.” Kip pulled him down and kissed him.
They got cleaned up, and Scott made good on his promise to himself to cuddle Kip to death.
Kip settled into Scott’s arms and rested his head on his chest.
“You’re so comfy,” Kip murmured.
“Move in with me,” Scott blurted out. Oh god. He hadn’t meant to say that at all. Not so soon.
“What?”
“Move in with me,” he said again. “I want you to live here, not just stay over. I want this to be our home.”
Kip lifted his head. “You serious?”
“Yes.”
He didn’t say anything for a minute.
“Please,” Scott said, bracing himself for Kip’s rejection.
“Okay,” Kip said s
oftly.
Scott beamed. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. I... Are you sure, though?”
“I’m very sure. I want to share everything with you, Kip. I want to do this for real.”
“All right then.”
Scott was giddy. “I can’t wait! I’ll set up one of the spare rooms as an office for you so you can study and do your work. I’ll get some bookshelves installed. How soon can you move in?”
Kip laughed. “I don’t know. Anytime, I guess. It’s not like I have much stuff to move.”
“We can decorate the place. Together. It’s always been kind of sparse.”
“I’d love that.”
The more Scott thought about it, the more excited he got. “We could have people over,” he said quietly. “Friends. I’ve never... I don’t really do that ever.”
“We could,” Kip agreed. “That would be nice.” He shifted so he was propped up on an elbow, looking up at Scott. “You sure you’re ready for what’s next?”
“Yes,” Scott said. “Are you?”
“Absolutely,” Kip said.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The Admirals had defeated Detroit in game six, knocking them out of the playoffs. New York was moving on to the Stanley Cup finals against the Western Conference champions, Los Angeles. The series would open in New York in three days.
Today, Scott was going to talk to Coach Murdock. He had asked his coach before the team’s video meeting if he could meet with him privately afterwards.
“If this is bad news I would really rather not hear it,” Murdock said, as soon as Scott had entered the man’s office. His tone was deadly serious, but he was a lot softer than he seemed. He’d want to know either way.
“It’s not,” Scott assured him, and he sat in one of the two chairs across Murdock’s desk from him. “It shouldn’t be, anyway.”
“You’ve got twenty minutes. Shoot.”
Scott exhaled, and started the speech he’d prepared. “There’s something I want to tell you about myself that will probably become public knowledge soon enough. I know the timing isn’t great for this, but I really do think it’s for the good of the team and for myself that I—”
“Jesus Christ, Hunter,” Murdock said. “Can I get the bullet-point format of this thing?”
“I’m gay.”
Murdock froze, and stared at Scott like he’d just told him he was a wizard.
Please don’t yell at me. Not about this.
“You’re gay.”
“Yes.”
Murdock tented his hands in front of his face and leaned back in his chair. When he lowered his hands, he was smiling. “How many times have you said those words out loud?”
Scott smiled shakily back, relieved. It was going to be okay.
“Before now? Twice. The first time was to my agent. The second time to Carter, Huff, and Bennett.”
Murdock nodded. “Smart, telling them first.”
“I thought so.”
“And you’re telling me because...”
“I didn’t want you to hear it from someone else. I want to go public. Soon.”
Murdock’s face turned serious again. “When, exactly?”
“After the playoffs,” Scott said quickly. “I promise. I don’t have to tell the rest of the team just yet. I’m not trying to distract anyone.”
Murdock seemed to consider this. “Why now?”
“Because I don’t want to live a lie anymore. And... I’m with someone. It isn’t fair to him.”
“Ah. You’re in love. That makes sense. Love makes men do all sorts of dumbass things.”
Scott gave a small smile. “I think this actually might be the smartest thing I’ve done.”
“You know what’s going to happen, right? When this gets out? You got a plan for that?”
“Kind of.”
Murdock swore under his breath. Scott wondered if maybe they were done. Then Murdock said, “When I played, I was one of about two non-white players in the league.”
Scott didn’t say anything.
“My road to the NHL was...challenging, let’s say. I don’t think there was a single game where I didn’t hear a player, or a fan, or a parent, or, hell, even a ref, have something to say about a Black man playing hockey.”
“You were a trailblazer,” Scott said.
“Sure. In retrospect, maybe. Didn’t feel like that at the time. I just wanted to play hockey. Didn’t think much about my legacy beyond being the greatest center the game had ever seen.”
Scott laughed.
“Funny thing is that the press, all they wanted to talk about was my skin color. How revolutionary I was. How I was changing the game. How I had overcome so many obstacles. It was all just noise to me back then.”
“And now?”
“Now I look back and I can see why all that noise was important. And I know it was important because players like Vaughan tell me that they were inspired by me. I made them feel a little more certain that they belonged in this sport that we all love.”
Scott nodded. “I know there’s going to be a lot of...noise. I’m prepared for that. I’m focused on my game. On my team. On winning. But if I can make even one kid more comfortable with who they are, make them a little braver about living their life without shame... I’m not going to run from that. I want that.”
“So what’s the plan?”
“I don’t know. I was thinking about offering Sports Illustrated the story rather than a press conference. Do it quietly, y’know?”
Murdock blew out a breath. “I don’t envy you—which is not something I ever thought I’d say—but I certainly respect the hell out of you, Hunter. I’ve got your back if anyone comes for you.”
“Thank you, Coach.”
They shook hands, and Murdock said, “It’s not Rozanov, is it?”
“Jesus. No! Why does everyone—?”
“Good. I don’t need that kind of circus.”
Scott laughed and left the office. He ran into Carter in the hallway.
“How’d that shit go?” Carter asked.
“Good, actually. I wish I thought everyone would take the news as well as you guys have.”
“Yeah, well...” Carter shoved his hands into the pocket of his hoodie, and looked at the ground. Scott knew he had been struggling a bit to accept Scott’s sexuality. He had been...quieter than usual.
“Listen,” Carter said. “I want you to know—if I’ve been acting weird, or whatever, it’s not because you’re... You know. Gay and shit.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, I’m serious. I don’t have a problem with that. But I guess I do have a problem with you not thinking you could tell me sooner.”
Scott hung his head. “I know. I should have told you. I wanted to. I was just scared.”
“I just hate thinking you were, like, all alone. All that time.”
Scott glanced up at his friend. God, I’ve been such an idiot.
He put a hand on Carter’s shoulder, and Carter stepped forward and hugged him.
“Thanks, Carter.”
Carter thumped him on the back, and they broke apart. “Hey,” Carter said. “I, uh, I had this reservation for tonight. It’s a very private restaurant. Dark, little nooks, expensive as all hell. Anyway, Gloria has to work late, so I was thinking...maybe you could take your man.”
Scott was stunned. “I—I don’t know. I mean, we haven’t—”
“Take your man out on a damn date, Scott. You’re gonna come clean about this shit anyway, right? Ease into it a bit. Like I said, this place is discreet and also romantic as fuck. And delicious. Shit, actually, can I be your date?”
Scott laughed. “I’ll ask him if he wants to go.”
He had no doubt Kip would want to go out somewhere with him. He was less sure
that Kip would want to go to a restaurant that was “expensive as all hell.” But he recognized this gesture from Carter for what it was.
“Thanks, man,” he said. “It means a lot. Really.”
Carter punched him in the arm. “Go be happy, asshole.”
* * *
“How fancy is this place?” Kip asked Scott over the phone. “I don’t think I have anything to wear that’s nice enough...”
“Don’t worry about it,” Scott assured him. “Not to sound arrogant, but you’re with me. You can wear whatever you want.”
“I wanna look nice for you.” Kip added a dark blue button-up shirt to the “maybe” pile on his bed.
“You always look nice. Did you get the address I sent you?”
“Yeah. I went to the restaurant’s website. It looks fancy...”
“It’s just a restaurant. Carter chose it, so it’s probably good. He knows food.”
“Yeah, okay.” He made a face at a small hole in the sleeve of a black sweater he’d been considering.
They had agreed to meet at the restaurant because if they met at Scott’s place there was a really good chance they would never make it to dinner.
“The car is going to pick you up at seven,” Scott said. “That okay?”
“Sure. You don’t have to send a car. I can take the train.” He tossed a gray sweater onto the pile.
“I’m sending a car. It’s a special night!”
Kip smiled. “Fine.”
“I’ll see you in a few hours, then.”
“Yeah. Can’t wait.”
“Me neither.”
They ended the call and Kip sighed, frowning again at his sad wardrobe. He hadn’t been able to believe it when Scott had asked him if he wanted to go out to dinner that night. Scott had said he was going to loosen up about their relationship and eventually come out to the world, but Kip hadn’t expected to be going on actual dates like this so soon. He was thrilled, but he was also woefully unprepared to be taken anywhere this posh. The only truly fancy clothing he’d ever owned had been the tux Scott had given him, but that was, he assumed, back at Scott’s apartment. Kip had kind of lost track of the suit after Scott had stripped him out of it.
Besides, nice restaurant or not, the tuxedo would probably be a bit much.