my side of the ice [mlm]

t w o

"Good going, Dean." My manager and coach slapped me on the back. "You played well this match."

I nodded, following my team into what we called 'the green room'. The familiar wooden benches were already lined with sweaty, blue jerseys and the floor was littered with pads.

I slipped through the throng of people to my corner, apologizing as I stumbled clumsily into the players spread across the room.

"An elegant angel on the ice, but a stumbling new-born off, hey Dean?" One of them teased, throwing me a cheeky grin.

"Of course," I laughed, accepting his brotherly joking.

"Aye and did you see that player with him today?" Our singular Scottish player joined in, winking at me. "I tell ya, our boy is a popular one." I smirked.

"You just wish it was you, Scotty." He rolled his eyes, but his muscles were relaxed and I could see he wasn't truly annoyed.

"Yeah, but that would give you competition, Dee." I chuckled, yanking my shirt over my head.

"Have you seen me?" I indicated my abs, flexing the soft muscles lazily. "No competition could beat this."

Scotty just shook his head, turning back to peeling off his soaked layers.

"Conceited ass." I heard him mutter. I just grinned.

Joining Scotty, I turned my attention to myself, beginning to pull off the loose shorts and top. They clung to me like autumn leaves in a lone puddle of water.

By the time I had stripped off my dirty kit, showered and dressed once more, the green room was empty. I sighed at the mess left behind; kit still strewn across the benches, the floor wet with partially melted ice.

Yanking my skates up from the floor, I slipped back through to the arena.

For once, it was quiet. The only noise was the soft buzz of the electric lights.

I knelt to lace my boots back on, and stepped onto the ice.

It was late now, almost midnight. The cleaners had left the lights on for me, just as they always did. They trusted me to lock up.

The blisters on my feet sent pain racing to my brain, but I ignored them.

Gently, I tilted my ankles, angling my body to follow the edge of the rink. My movements were carefree; my muscles loose and relaxed.

My after-game practice was one of the few things that helped me survive the week. It brought me down after a game.

I didn't see him come in.

The door to the arena creaked a soft warning, moments before I felt his arms wrap around my waist.

His lips pressed against my neck, his nose brushing against my hair.

"Hello," he murmured. I swung us around, spinning gracefully to face him.

"Hey," I replied.

He curled into me, resting his head on my chest, chocolate swirling eyes peering into my own. His hand lifted to caress my face and the odd angle of my nose. Worry filled his beautiful dark eyes, flecks of amber honey sparking with the sudden emotion.

"Is your nose okay?" His voice is barely a lover's whisper, but it settled like a comforting blanket over me.

I hummed contentedly.

"Dee, are you sure? Did you go to--" He stopped, turning away. "I was so worried about you."

I glanced at him, tightening my grip around his waist.

"You just...just the way you fell and I felt so-- so helpless--"

"You caught me, Jay," I stated, trying to reassure the worried boy in my arms.

"And I would do it over and over and over again," he mumbled. "But I should've done more. I hate that we hide this!"

I examined the fire in the eyes of the man I loved, choosing my next words carefully.

"We don't have to." His eyes flickered to mine. "You know it won't affect hockey-- hell, they had an lgbtq+ jersey especially made for pride!"

"I know." He hid his face in my shirt. "I'm just so scared, Dee."

I pulled him into my warmth, our legs folding into each other as we crumpled into the ice, my sudden movement overbalancing Jay's feet.

I felt tears begin to wet my soft jersey. His shoulders shook with the tiniest of sobs.

I closed my eyes, allowing my love to rest his heart on my shoulders as the pain flooded his mind. He was mumbling into my skin. I could feel the words as they vibrated against my neck.

After a few moments, I gently nudged him, knowing that it was nearing one in the morning.

"Come on." I spoke softly, not wanting to disturb his peace.

He rushed to wipe the tears off his face and I turned him to press chaste kisses to his cheeks, tasting the saltiness that lingered on his skin.

We rose, slowly regaining our stability. Slowly rebuilding our walls.

I skated backwards, pulling him into a swirling dance. His pain momentarily forgotten, he smiled, his face lighting up.

He span away, enjoying his sudden freedom.

I love you, I thought, as I watched him make the ice his own. I love you.