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I head back down the concourse and find Tyler waiting for me. He's taken a seat in the stands. I sit next to him without saying a word.
“You can play,” he says softly. “You never told me you could play.”
“I can't play, really, it's been way too long. You probably heard me fuck up a few times.”
“Bullshit, man! That was lovely.”
“Well ... thanks.”
“When did you learn how to do that?”
“Grams taught me, dude. I told you she was a piano teacher.”
“Yeah, but you didn't tell me she taught you.”
“My heart was in hockey, not piano.” I shrug. “So it's not something I really brag about. I guess Grams thought piano might keep me out of trouble.”
“Did it?”
“Hell no,” I laugh. “Maybe just this once though? Ha.”
We sit in silence, staring at the empty ice. “I'm parched. I could use a drink,” Tyler says at last.
“They keep bottled waters in the penalty box. I used to spend a lot of time in that box so I know it pretty well. C'mon.”
He follows me. We head down to the ice level, hop onto the bench, and carefully walk over the ice in our shoes. We step into the box and take a seat.
“The penalty keeper's name is Fritz,” I tell Tyler. “He's a nice guy. Been doing this job a long time. Way before I got here to Winnipeg, anyway. He always keeps this cooler right here stocked with water bottles.”
I open the cooler and take a water bottle off the top. And then I laugh. “Whoaaaa!”
“What?” Tyler asks.
“Looks like Fritz's got more than just water in here.” I grin and hold up a few bottles of beer. “Think he drinks these on the job?”
“Maybe. Who knows.”
I hand Tyler his water. I take one too. We sit in silence – a silence that reminds me that it's still technically 'weird' between us. With the way things ended in the hotel and all.
“That was an awesome fight, by the way,” I say softly. “Your eye's a little puffy. How's it feel?”
“Not too bad.”
I touch the skin around his eye gently. It's already starting to turn bluish. He winces. I pull out some of the ice from Fritz's cooler, wrap in it a towel, and hold it to his face.
“I wish you could've seen yourself. You were like a drunken master out there.” I imitate his stance – left hand gripping Burky's jersey, right hand throwing fierce jabs and wild uppercuts. “The guys were going nuts. We thought you were gonna die at first, but you held your own.”
He nods quietly.
“C'mon, Tyler. Talk to me, bro.”
He looks over the ice with a thousand-yard stare and cracks a cynical smile.
“What's so funny?” I ask.
“I really don't know what to say.”
“Just tell me what's on your mind. Tell me what's making you smile.”
He pauses. “I didn't care at all if Burkhardt beat the piss out of me.”
“Well, that was obvious,” I chuckle.
He takes a mouthful of water and spits it back out. “No, I mean. I'm thinking about retiring after this season.”
“What?” I gasp. “No way, dude. Why the hell would you do that?”
“I'm really ... I'm over it. I don't care anymore, Cal.”
I scoot closer to him, sliding right into the aura of his blistering body heat, and bump my shoulder into his. “You don't mean that. You've got a long career ahead of you still. And think of all the money you'd be leaving on the table.”
“Fuck the money,” he snaps. “I've made enough, and it can't buy me a damn thing I actually care about.”
“So ... what do you care about?” I ask, even though I'm afraid of the answer.
He looks at me like I'm joking and snorts.
“What? What? Seriously, what?” I ask.
“Do I really have to embarrass myself again?”
I gulp. He can't be talking about what I think he is. “Vance ...” I say softly.
He chuckles. “And now I'm Vance again. Yeh – that's what I thought.”
He starts to get up to leave. But I grab his forearm, pull him back down and make him sit. “Wait. Tyler. Wait.”
He looks at me. He looks hopeless. I've never seen him like this and it's fucking killing me.
“Dude, Tyler. Fuck, man. Look – I don't know how else to say it. I can't be your training wheels, alright? You've got a future. I don't. Simple as that.”
“I told you I'm this close to retiring.” He holds up a small pinch of air between his fingers.
“That's just because you're being dramatic. You're just trying to tell me what you think I wanna hear.”
“No. I almost retired after the Cup loss and the media frenzy after it. Ask my agent if you don't believe me. He had to talk me out of it.”
“Yeah? Well if we got together, you'd have to retire anyway. And I'd never forgive myself if I was the reason I nuked your career.”
“I'd never forgive myself if I let you walk away.”
Those words steal the breath right out of my lungs. What? I gasp, but no sounds come out. He can't be serious ... he just can't be.
“Tyler ...” I say softly.
He wraps his arm around my back and tries to pull me closer. I freeze up. “There's people around here who could see us, man.”
“I don't care.”
And then the arena lights go out. All of 'em. We're in total darkness.
“There,” Tyler says. “Looks like everybody went home. No one can see us now.”
“Great,” I chuckle. “You know we missed the bus, right?”
“Yeah. Oh well.”
I can't see anything. But I feel Tyler's hand rest on my thigh. And then I feel his breath on my neck.
“Cal ...” he says softly.
“Yeah?” I swallow nervously.
“I've never felt anything like when I'm with you.” His lips kiss and suck at my neck. I hate it, but I can't resist it – his lips make me blossom for him like a flower, and I give him more of my neck. He eagerly drinks it right up, like a bee after nectar.
“When I'm with you, I feel like a kid again. Like I've still got so much more to learn. And I'm excited to learn, too.”
“Fuck, Tyler,” I sigh. He presses himself into me.
I writhe against him, softly saying his name in protest. I want him to stop.
But not really. Not at all.
His hand crawls higher up my thigh.
“When I'm with you, Cal ... I feel like everything finally makes sense.” His breath is hot on the cool spots he's left on my neck.
“Fuck,” I whisper hoarsely.
His mouth moves higher up my neck, moving slowly towards my lips. His hand inches higher up my thigh, teasing me. My manhood snakes down my trousers and toward his hand, reaching like a vine toward the light of day.
“If you can't play in this league because you like guys, then I don't wanna play in it either, Cal. 'Cause I like you.”
Why? Why does he have to say those words ...?
“Fuck,” I sigh, the last gasp of my resistance blowing away. “Tyler ... I like you too ...”
And then, in the pitch-black darkness, I don't see him or hear him move. But I feel him. There is a plump, tender touch of his lips against my own. His lips, like warm honey, melt into mine. His taste, his electric feel, his scent fills me. And I know he's right. I can't lie to myself any longer. I can't fight him any longer.
I let him in. I kiss him back. His lips part, and I give him my tongue. Our tongues touch and gently slither and slide against each other.
Each kiss strengthens him and makes me succumb to his mounting power. Soon he is on top of me, and I topple over, my back on the bench, his chest against mine ...
“Cal ...” he grumbles, his hand finding the hardness down my pant leg. He slides his palm up and down on it, and I moan softly. Shit, this is so wrong but awesome!
“Yeah?”
But all I hear in reply is the sound of my own zipper slowly clacking open. I feel his hand reach into my pants, reach under my boxers, and grab my stiffness. He pulls it up and out into the open. Slowly, he tugs it in the darkness, his hand pulling my skin up and down.
“Damn ...” I sigh. “Never thought I'd be doing this here.”
“Me neither,” he chuckles.
And then there's a sweltering heat suddenly sucking at my tip. My hands shoot over my mouth to keep from shouting in surprise. The deliciously wet, hot suction slowly slurps me down ... plunging down my length ... until I feel the cold tip of his nose press against my belly.
“Shit!” I stifle the bubbles of laughter coming from deep within. “You're really doing this in here, aren't you!”
“Mm-hmn,” is his satisfied reply.
And those lips slide further up and down my member in the dark. His hands fondle my nuts, coaxing them to swell up in his hand until I'm begging for mercy.
“You better stop, Tyler ...” I warn, my voice rising. But he never stops when I freakin' warn him. “Dude I'm gonna cum if you don't stop! Oh – Ty – uh oh ...”
My troubled noises only encourage him. He sucks me faster, harder, deeper. I grab a fistful of his hair, hanging on as tightly as I can as his head bobs up and down my girth.
“I'm cumming!”
“Mmmf!” he groans as I climax. He strokes me into his mouth, his lips pulled taut on my glans, and he sucks my cum right down.
“Oooh!” I groan, my whole body trembling until he's swallowed my last drop.
And then his mouth comes off me. My cock flops against my bare belly with a wet thud. And then I feel those plump lips again, pressing against mine – but this time with the salty, slick heat of my seed slathered all over them.
“Damn, Ty ...”
I reach my hand between his legs. I wanna return the favor. But Tyler grabs my arm and pulls me off him.
If he could see anything at all in this darkness right now, he'd see I was lifting my eyebrow at him. Huh?
“Let's – let's head back to the dressing room.” Tyler sounds a little self-conscious. “I uh, I didn't get a chance to shower yet. I'm still pretty sweaty, man.”
“Oh,” I chuckle as I sit up. “No problem.”
I pull my cell phone out of my pocket and light the path ahead of us. We step across the ice, being careful not to slip, and travel down the tunnel to the dressing rooms.