Page 45 of Poetry On Ice

Maybe I need it so I can try to convince myself all over that he doesn’t deserve it.

“I crashed a lot, like,a lot, a lot. I was fast as fuck though—obviously.” He jabs me lightly in the ribs, butI don’t give him the rise he’s after, so he continues, “My coach said I was fearless. Said he’d never seen anything like it. I thought it was a good thing. I’d been trying my best, so I was super proud, but then he added, ‘It’s not a compliment. You’re a wrecking ball, Robbie. You’re an accident waiting to happen.’ I was gutted.” The breath I now realize I’ve been holding twists and becomes a little uncomfortable. “Anyway, long story short, my dad pulled me out of the class and took me to a Vipers game a few months later. I was hooked within minutes. I felt like I was in heaven. Like I’d come home. It was amazing. I met Danny LeGrange after the game. Can you believe it?” Danny was the Vipers captain back then, and even now, he’s the kind of player people talk about in hushed, reverent tones.

“No way! He was like my idol growing up. I was obsessed with him. I still tape my stick the way he did.”

“He was my hero too. He was so nice. You know how sometimes you meet people and it shatters the illusion? Well, it was nothing like that. He signed my T-shirt, and when I told him I was going to play for the Vipers one day, he gave me the game puck.”

“No fucking way!

“Yes, way.”

“Do you still have it?”

“Course I do. It’s my most prized possession.” His voice grows softer and the tempo of his words slows. “Ibeggedmy parents to let me play hockey after I met Danny. My dad was a little iffy about it because of the wrecking ball comment and how rough the game is in general, but my mom said it was fine as long as I played with a cage helmet forever.”

“Forever?” I chuckle at the thought. “Did you love hockey from the beginning and go to sleep at night picturing yourself lifting the Stanley Cup?” I ask quietly.

There’s a pause before he speaks, and his arm is heavier on my chest than it was earlier. “Yeah, I loved it. I loved it big time. Loved the game, loved being part of a team. Loved it all. It was fun. So much fun…” His voice trails off and he’s quiet for so long I think he’s drifting off, but then he adds, “I played for fun for years and years. Despite what I told Danny, it wasn’t until…later that I really believed I could go pro.”

18

Ant Decker

I don’t need toopen my eyes to know I’m in deep shit. I’m almost entirely buried under a guy who’s decided to make me his mattress. And for some reason, I’m holding on to him tightly. I have both arms around him and my nose is pressed against his cheek. I whip my head back and let go the second I realize what I’ve been doing. I ease the arm under his neck out from under him slowly and carefully, taking care not to wake him. He mumbles softly in protest, but his eyes remain closed.

Thank fuck for that.

I make my way to the bathroom, dick leading the way. I’m hard. Rock-hard. Hard enough that I could easily use my dick as a weapon if that was socially acceptable.

Relax. It’s morning wood.

It’s definitely just morning wood.

I mean, yeah, sure, it’s a tiny bit of naked-Robbie-McGuire-in-my-bed wood, but it’s nothing to get worked up about.

My dick likes the way he looks, okay? There’s nothing I can do about that. It likes his body and the way he looks without any clothes on. It’s simple, really. I’m a gay man, and he’s a hot guy.

It’s not a big deal.

It’ll probably subside in a matter of minutes.

It doesn’t. The dull throb between my legs develops a pulse of its own, a heartbeat that demands attention. A deep pull that unsubtly suggests I get my ass back in bed with Robbie McGuire and wake him up by feeding him a nice big mouthful of meat.

Fuck.

My dick is into him. It’sreallyinto him.

It likes how he smells.

And how he sounds.

It liked the way he moaned when I fucked him last night. It liked the noises he made. The breathy gasps. The tiny, hoarse cries.

Oof, it liked those a lot.

It liked the loud noises too. The ones he made into the palm of my hand. The ones that were so big and came from so low in his belly, I couldn’t contain them.

It liked how he came apart, trembling and shaking, ass fluttering around me as he said my name over and over.