Role Model

by Rachel Reid

“I know!” Harris glanced around. “I wonder if Price is here. He usually travels with him.”

  Troy glanced around too, and found Ryan near the back of the room. He was easy to spot, since he was the tallest person in the room, and had very red hair.

  Troy made a decision. “I want to talk to him.”

  Harris nodded. “Then you should. You want me to stay here?”

  “Maybe. I won’t be long.” He locked eyes with Harris. “I’ll find you.”

  “You’d better.”

  Impulsively, Troy leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. Then he darted away before he could see Harris’s reaction.

  Ryan was standing alone when Troy approached him. He could see the exact moment Ryan recognized him, because his expression shifted from someone who was probably fantasizing about his impressive boyfriend to one of wide-eyed anxiety.

  “Hey,” Troy said when he was in front of him.

  “Barrett? What are you doing here?”

  “I came with a friend.”

  Ryan’s eyes darted around anxiously as if he expected to see Dallas Kent. “Why are you in Ottawa?”

  That question surprised Troy. “I play here now.”

  “Oh.” Ryan looked embarrassed. “Sorry. I don’t follow hockey too closely anymore.”

  “It’s okay.” Troy tilted his head toward the now-empty stage. “Is that really your boyfriend?”

  Ryan’s face shifted again into a proud smile. “Yeah. I know, I can’t believe it either.”

  His hair had always been long and he usually had a thick, sometimes unruly, beard covering his face. Now his hair had been cut shorter than Troy had ever seen it, and his beard had been reduced to dark red stubble. It turned out that Ryan had been hiding a very handsome face and a nice smile under all that hair.

  “You look good,” Troy said, because he owed this guy a compliment. And so many apologies. “Look, um, I know this probably won’t mean much to you, but I want to apologize. I was a complete asshole to you when we played together, and I’m sorry. It makes me sick thinking about how I treated you.”

  Ryan had clearly not been expecting any of that, the way his mouth fell open. “Uh, okay. No problem.”

  “Especially about the fear of flying thing. I can’t believe how horrible and immature I was. And I kind of got a taste of how you must have felt.”

  “Right. I heard about the plane thing. I didn’t know you were on that plane because I didn’t know you played for Ottawa, but, um, it seemed like a nightmare.”

  “It was pretty fucking scary.”

  “I don’t even want to think about it. I haven’t been on a plane since I quit hockey.”

  “Really? I heard that you travel with your boyfriend when he tours.”

  “We drive. Or he flies alone. I don’t go on every trip.” His eyes narrowed. “Wait. Who’s telling you all of this?”

  “Uh...” Okay, so this was the other thing Troy wanted to talk about. “My friend Harris. He’s a big fan of Fabian’s and he does the social media for the Centaurs. He’s...gay.”

  Ryan’s eyebrows shot up. “You have a gay friend now?”

  “Yeah, uh. That’s the other thing I wanted to apologize for. I said a lot of homophobic shit when I played for Toronto and I shouldn’t have. I don’t want to make excuses, but I was kind of...hiding behind it, if you know what I mean. That doesn’t make it less shitty. But it’s why I did it.”

  He could see Ryan putting things together in his head. “Wait. You’re gay?”

  Troy swallowed. “Yes.”

  Ryan blew out a breath. “Didn’t see that one coming.”

  “I know.”

  Troy couldn’t tell from Ryan’s expression if he actually cared about any of this.

  “Does your friend know you’re gay?” Ryan asked.

  “Who? Harris?”

  “No, Dallas.”

  Troy’s stomach clenched the way it always did when he heard Dallas’s name. “Wow. You really haven’t been following hockey. We’re not friends anymore.”

  “Oh. Good.”

  “I know.”

  Both men shared an awkward silence, then Ryan said, “I should go meet Fabian backstage. But, um...”

  “Yeah. Of course. Go.” Troy hesitated, then said, “I’m glad you’re happy, Ryan.”

  Ryan nodded. “Good luck with, y’know, figuring everything out.”

  He left quickly without a glance back, which Troy couldn’t blame him for. He was glad he’d gotten a chance to apologize, but he didn’t expect Ryan to want to talk to him for any longer than he needed to.

  But there was someone here who did want to talk to Troy. Who always had time for him, and seemed to really care about him. And Troy wasn’t going to keep him waiting.

  * * *

  Harris had found friends to talk to while Troy was busy with Ryan, so he hadn’t been bored. But a thrill shot through him when he spotted Troy walking toward him.

  “You found me,” Harris said.

  “I said I would.”

  Then he placed a hand on Harris’s cheek, tilted his head, and kissed him. Full on the mouth. With people all around them.

  And suddenly, there was no one around them. At least not as far as Harris was concerned. All that existed in the world was the firm, warm press of Troy’s lips against his own, and the slow, gentle tangle of their tongues.

  Troy began to pull away, but Harris nipped at his bottom lip, pulling him back in for another long, luxurious kiss.

  “Wow,” Harris said, dazed, when they finally broke for air. He hadn’t been expecting anything like this when he’d invited Troy out tonight. He hadn’t expected, but he’d hoped. “What was that all about?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve been wanting to do it all night, and—” Troy’s smile was wider and brighter than Harris had ever seen it, and his eyes shone with an excited energy. “I don’t do things I want to do very often. I like kissing you.”

  “Oh,” Harris said. “Good.”

  Troy was still cradling Harris’s face. “Come home with me?”

  “Okay,” Harris said, still light-headed from the kiss.

  Then Troy kissed him again. It was quick, but sweet because he was still smiling.

  “Sorry,” Troy said. “Last one, I promise.”

  “I hope not.” Harris took his hand. “Let’s get our coats.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Your place is nice,” Harris said breathlessly as Troy pressed him against a wall.

  “It’s boring. And it’s not mine.” Troy kissed him, hard and possessive and perfect.

  Harris couldn’t argue, both because his mouth was full of Troy’s tongue, and because the apartment really was boring. It was basically an extra-large hotel room.

  But it probably had a bed, and that was all Harris was interested in at the moment. He’d been fired up since Troy had first held his hand at the club, the gesture unexpected and exhilarating. Then there’d been the kiss on the cheek, which was such a small, silly thing, but Harris knew it hadn’t been either of those things for Troy.

  And then there’d been the real kisses. Hungry, like this one was, as if they contained every secret longing Troy had ever had. As if he’d forced them down for so long that the pressure had become too great and now they were erupting out of him, hot and messy and potentially devastating.

  Eventually, they made it to the bedroom, and Troy immediately began removing his own clothing. He opened just enough buttons to haul his shirt over his head, taking the undershirt with it. Harris was enjoying the show so much he forgot to get himself undressed.

  “Come on,” Troy said, already fully naked. “Off. Wanna see you.”

  Harris started unbuttoning his own shirt, but he wasn’t fast enough for Troy, who stepped close to help. In seconds, all of Harris’s clothing was
in a pile on the floor, and he was back in Troy’s arms, being kissed like he would evaporate if Troy stopped.

  “You want me to fuck you again?” Troy asked. “Like last time?”

  Harris shuddered happily thinking about it. “Yeah. Just like last time. If that’s what you want.”

  “It’s exactly what I want.”

  Harris was shoved backward on the bed, Troy looming over him. Harris gazed up in amazement at his hard, beautiful body and his intense eyes, bringing to life every fantasy of being ravaged by a jock that Harris had ever had.

  “Jesus,” Harris said on an exhale. “You can’t be real.”

  Troy gripped his own rigid cock and slowly guided it toward Harris’s lips. “Is this real?”

  Harris took him eagerly into his mouth, moaning at the first taste of him. Troy straddled his thighs as Harris propped himself up on his elbows—a little awkward and slightly uncomfortable, but for some reason it only made it hotter. Like they couldn’t even wait to get in a position that made sense. Harris certainly didn’t feel like moving.

  He couldn’t take him deep like this, so he focused on the sensitive head of Troy’s cock, flicking his tongue and probing the slit. Troy swore through gritted teeth, and Harris could see the tension in his muscles as he fought to hold still.

  Except Harris wanted him to thrust. He wanted him to use all that strength to fuck his mouth.

  Harris let Troy’s cock drop out of his mouth, and heard Troy’s disapproving grunt. Then Harris slid off the bed to the floor, settling on his knees beside Troy.

  “Let’s try it this way,” Harris said, head tilted back to see Troy’s expression. Troy nodded, eyes hooded and lips parted, and offered Harris his cock.

  “Don’t hold back,” Harris instructed, then wrapped his lips around him, taking him deep to show him he could. He bobbed his head and ran his palms over Troy’s thighs, and around to his ass, spelling it out for him.

  Troy jerked his hips forward, just once, and stopped to meet Harris’s gaze. His eyes asked permission, and Harris nodded slightly, hoping his own eyes showed how much he wanted this.

  They must have, because the next thrust was harder. And the next one. Harris kept his jaw slack and his head still, and let Troy plunder him.

  “Fuck, Harris,” Troy growled. “So fucking good to me.”

  He gripped the back of Harris’s head, fingers tight in his hair. His thrusts were so hard and fast that Harris could barely even groan his approval. He could only gaze up with hazy, damp eyes and focus on the sparks of excitement that were shooting through his body. He loved everything about this. He loved making people feel good, and he loved being handled so roughly. He always wanted to be useful, but right now he wanted to be used.

  Troy’s skin was flushed, from his face, down his neck, and across his chest. His abs clenched with each snap of his hips, and Harris watched, mesmerized.

  “God, look at you take it,” Troy panted. “So hot. Fucking beautiful.”

  Harris relaxed his throat, inviting Troy deeper. Troy pushed in and stopped, gasping and moaning as Harris swallowed around the swollen head of his cock.

  “Harris, I—” Troy inhaled sharply, and huffed it out. “I shouldn’t—fuck, I’m too close. You gotta stop me.”

  He meant it, Harris could tell, so he pulled back and Troy released his grip on his scalp.

  “Ah, shit.” Troy wrapped his hand around the base of his cock, squeezing tight. He closed his eyes and took a few deep, shaky breaths while Harris watched from his knees, amused by Troy’s struggle.

  “Okay,” Troy sighed after a tense few seconds. “I’m good.” He laughed unsteadily. “Fuck, that was close.”

  Harris playfully leaned in and parted his lips. Troy took a step back.

  “Don’t you dare,” he laughed. “Stand up. I want to kiss you.”

  Well, that was an easy order to obey. Harris’s knees were killing him anyway. He hadn’t noticed until Troy had pulled his cock free.

  “You could have, you know,” Harris said, looping his arms around Troy’s neck. “Finished, I mean. You don’t have to fuck me tonight.”

  “I definitely have to fuck you tonight,” Troy growled, and kissed him.

  Harris’s lips were swollen and bruised, but he couldn’t get enough of Troy’s kisses. They kept kissing as Troy lowered himself to the bed, pulling Harris down with him. Troy lay back, and Harris followed, settling his body on top of all that firm muscle. Letting their legs tangle together as he kissed Troy’s chin, neck, nose, ears, shoulders, then back to his lips.

  “God, you’re sweet,” Troy murmured as Harris kissed his collarbone. “When you offer yourself like that, on your knees with your mouth open, I can’t resist. I hate how much I love being rough with you, when I all I want is to take care of you.”

  Harris lifted his head so their eyes met. “You are taking care of me. You’re giving me what I want, and I love how you don’t hold back with me, Troy.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “And that’s why you won’t.”

  Their mouths crashed together again, and they rolled on the bed until Harris was on his back, under Troy.

  “I want to do it like this,” Troy murmured. “Want to look at you.”

  Harris really hoped the bouncy things his heart was doing weren’t related to his medical condition. “I want that too.”

  Harris usually preferred to be taken from behind, or some position that didn’t put his scars on display, but he wanted to see Troy’s face when he entered him, when he lost control, and when he came. Harris wanted all of his senses to be full of this man.

  Troy grabbed lube and a condom from his nightstand. He took his time opening Harris up, maddeningly careful after everything they’d just discussed, but Harris knew it was for the best. He squirmed impatiently, wanting more than Troy’s strong fingers. When Harris was on the verge of begging, Troy gripped his thighs and pushed his knees toward his chest. He was so open and exposed, and Troy was admiring his entrance like he’d found treasure.

  “Keep your legs there,” he ordered. He removed his hands and Harris obeyed, keeping himself spread wide-open while he watched Troy roll a condom on.

  Troy drizzled lube on his sheathed cock, then stroked himself slowly. “Don’t deserve all this,” he said huskily. “This gorgeous man waiting for my cock. So fucking hot.”

  “You deserve it,” Harris said. “Please. Give it to me.”

  Troy hauled him roughly to the end of the mattress, then planted one foot on the bed. He lined himself up and slowly pushed in, making Harris groan with relief.

  Harris was so hard. His cock had been mostly ignored tonight, and it was demanding attention now. Troy was buried to the hilt inside him, panting and squeezing his eyes shut.

  “Fuck,” Troy gritted out. “You feel too fucking good.”

  Harris began stroking himself, because it seemed that Troy wasn’t going to be able to last very long tonight. “Take your time,” he said. “Or come if you need to. Just want you to feel good.”

  Troy watched the movement of Harris’s hand. His tongue poked out to wet his bottom lip. “Get yourself close.” He gave a few shallow thrusts, each one sending waves of pleasure through Harris’s body. Getting close wouldn’t be a problem for Harris.

  Troy moved faster as Harris’s hand sped up, and finally he rasped, “I can’t—I have to—” and then he was really pounding into him. Hard and relentless, slamming the headboard against the wall, making Harris cry out with pleasure.

  “Fuck. Fuck!” Troy gasped, then he stilled and his mouth went slack. He pulled out so quickly that Harris yelped, then he swallowed Harris’s cock down, sucking hard. It was a matter of seconds before Harris erupted into Troy’s mouth with a loud moan. Hopefully the soundproofing in Troy’s fancy building was decent.

  “Holy shit,” Harris
panted. Troy flopped beside him, also breathing hard.

  “Yeah. Sorry I went off so fast.”

  “Don’t be. It was hot as hell.”

  They lay together quietly for a minute or two, letting their breathing return to normal. Then Harris turned his head and could see Troy fighting a smile. “What?”

  “Nothing. Just that I always feel ridiculous after sex.”

  “Oh.” Harris traced a finger over the curve of his shoulder, then over to the grooves around his pecs. “I get that. It’s a pretty weird activity, really.”

  Troy snorted and then shook with laughter, which made Harris laugh.

  “Now that you said that, I can’t stop thinking about how weird it is,” Troy said.

  “Yeah, it’s like, we can have dinner, or watch TV, or you can stick your dick in my ass.”

  Troy was full-on giggling now. It was a joy to listen to.

  “I would like those other things,” Troy said, once he’d gotten himself under control. “With you, I mean.”

  Harris’s heart pounded. “You would?”

  “Definitely. I’d...” Troy trailed off, gaze fixed on the ceiling. “Do you think people saw us kissing? Like, who recognized me?”

  Ah. Here we go. “I don’t know,” Harris said honestly.

  “Maybe there are photos of us on Twitter.”

  “It’s always a risk these days, but you could always deny that it’s you in the photos.”

  Troy was silent a moment, then said, “No one would expect me to be at a concert like that.” Harris translated it as no one would expect me to be surrounded by queer people.

  “Probably not.”

  Troy abruptly sat up and grabbed his phone off the nightstand.

  “What are you doing?” Harris asked.

  “Posting something.”

  Harris propped himself on one elbow, craning his neck to see the screen. Troy pulled it away.

  “Be patient,” Troy scolded.

  Harris enjoyed the line that appeared between Troy’s black eyebrows as he concentrated on typing. A few seconds later, he handed Harris his phone.

  Harris gasped theatrically. Troy had posted a photo he’d taken of Fabian Salah onstage, tagged the location, and written An incredible night.