Tuesday Tales - Pale

 It`s time for Tuesday Tales.

Today we have an excerpt from A Star-Crossed Christmas, which is a Cayuga Cougars short story being written for a hockey holidays anthology coming out later this year!

Our word prompt today is “Pale”. In today’s scene, our two new lovers are reconciled after a fourteen-day separation.

This story may have gay erotic scenes, strong social issues addressed and mature language. If those things offend now is the time to move onto another Tuesday Tales blog. Thanks for stopping by!

Those fourteen days were the longest fourteen days ever on record. Thankfully they were over now, and Shaun was sitting behind the Cougars bench, wearing one of my sweaters, looking so tan and so amazingly handsome I was crazed to get this stupid game over with. We’d had ten minutes at the airport to hug and kiss. That was it. Then I had to be here for the game which was taking so long. Oh my God. Why did we play three periods anyway? It wasn’t like we didn’t know we had this game locked down. We were ahead by a goal and this was our game, our two points. I glanced at the clock as the action was all down at the other end of the ice. Two minutes left. I heard the crack of a puck off the glass. My attention returned to the game, where it should be, and I saw Ron Plassy of the Broncos pick up the puck after it ricocheted off the glass. Ron was a defenseman, and generally not a big offensive threat, but he came down the ice like someone had strapped rocket boosters to his skates.

He threw his shoulder to the right, pulling me that way. I knew as soon as I moved in that direction it was a mistake. Ron’s deke was brilliant. I had hardly any time to recover, so I planted left skate to pipe and spread my legs wide, jamming my right skate into the iron as well. The puck bounced off my toe, rolling back at Plassy. He jumped on the rebound and took another shot. I threw my blocker up. The puck flew back over my head and down the back of the net. Play was whistled dead. I sat there on the ice, stunned that I’d pulled those two saves out of my ass. The Cougars fans were cheering my name. I couldn’t see Shaun from where I was seated in the crease, but I hoped he had been somewhat impressed.

An hour and another win later, I pushed out of the Cougar dressing room, tie dangling and jacket in hand, crazy mad to get to Shaun. He was hanging out with the press corps, chatting about his win in Aspen and his aspirations to be picked for the Olympic team again. The hallway was packed, and I wiggled past some fat guy in a polo shirt holding a phone in the air. Shaun was nodding at something one of the reporters had said when his gaze met mine. A smile that could melt the polar ice caps lit up his face. My feet felt big and stupid.

“There’s my friend, Mitch.” Shaun broke from the media, thanking them for their interest in his career, and walked to me, brown eyes sparkling.

We didn’t say anything to each other. I think we were kind of afraid to speak in case we got gushy or something. Walking side-by-side we played things off as casual until we rounded the corner. We both made a lunge at each other, bouncing off a Coke machine, mouths sealed. I pawed around behind me for a door as Shaun lapped at my mouth. I found a knob, turned it, and we fell into the room, pulling at each other’s clothes like starving jackals.

“Mind if we take pictures for later masturbatory use?”

Shaun and I leaped apart, lips wet and a little puffy, breathing jagged, and turned to look at Coach Kalinski sitting at his desk, smirking, as his husband lounged in a chair in the far corner. Dan looked like a cat who found his way into a budgie shop. I felt myself pale.

“I uh, we… he and I - it’s kind of… this is my friend.”

Victor smiled at my fumbling. “Yep, I can see how friendly you are. You catching all the friendship these two are sharing, babe?”

“Yep, lots of friendship,” Dan replied as he fought not to laugh.

Copyright 2018 ©by V.L. Locey

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