Chapter Twenty-Four #2
Jesus, had Troy really been that sloppy? Had he really kissed Harris with the door open? He felt like he might combust. “I, uh—we were—um—”
Coach chuckled. “I’m happy for you. I’m just trying to keep you out of trouble.”
“Thank you,” Troy said. Oh god, he really was going to cry if he didn’t get out of there. This day was too much.
He left the office in a daze. There wouldn’t be time to find Harris before practice now, but he was certainly racking up a long list of things to kiss him about.
“Holy smokes!” Wyatt yelled. “When did Chiron turn into an actual horse?”
Harris grinned at the team puppy, who had grown into a decently large dog, and was looking like he might end up around the size of a Bernese mountain dog. “He did some growing over the past month, that’s for sure.”
“No shit.” Wyatt took a knee on the dressing room floor, still wearing his giant leg pads. “Let me get some pets in before Rozanov sees—”
Wyatt was cut off by a banshee scream coming from Ilya’s stall. “What the fuck, Harris? Why is he huge?”
“Dogs grow, Roz.”
Ilya had already crossed the room and was kneeling next to Wyatt, bumping the goalie out of the way. “Chiron! You are such a big boy now! You are like two Chirons!” He thoroughly scratched the happy dog’s ears and neck.
While Ilya and Wyatt warred for Chiron’s affection, Harris glanced at Troy’s empty stall. He’d told Harris last night that he was planning to come out to his mom today, but Harris hadn’t heard from him since. “Was Troy not here today?”
Ilya didn’t look up from Chiron. “He is here somewhere. Showers probably.”
Well. Harris should probably wait then.
“Chiron got some bad news this week,” Harris said. “I mean, maybe he’s not too sad about it.”
Ilya’s head shot up, his eyes wide and horrified. “What news? What is wrong?”
“Turns out he’s not therapy dog material. At least according to the trainers.”
“Impossible,” Ilya said.
“Aw.” Wyatt rubbed Chiron’s back. “We love you anyway, buddy. I sucked at school too.”
“What will happen to him?” Ilya asked.
Harris couldn’t help but smile at Ilya’s concern. “Nothing bad. He’s still going to be the official team dog, but he’ll need a home away from the arena.”
“You will adopt him.” Ilya didn’t make it sound like a suggestion.
Harris let out a startled laugh. “Well, maybe. I mean, I was thinking maybe that would be a good idea. Then I could bring him to work with me and you guys could see him all the time.” And, Harris added privately, Troy would get to cuddle him at home, and join Harris on walks with him, and maybe one day they’d get a house in the country with a big yard. ..
He’d gotten way ahead of himself with his fantasizing when he’d first learned about Chiron not making the therapy dog cut.
For now, he had to be realistic about his small apartment and this very large dog, but he’d probably be able to bring Chiron to work every day, and he could bring him out to the farm all the time, if he got along well with the other dogs.
And he’d bet Ilya wouldn’t mind having Chiron hang out at his giant house sometimes.
Ilya smiled at Chiron. “You are going to be the happiest dog ever.”
Harris would make sure of it.
At that moment, Troy emerged from a back room, but he was still wearing some of his gear. Not much of it. Just a few select pieces that, combined with Troy’s exposed skin and sweat-slicked muscles, basically made him a walking fantasy.
He was wearing his jock and garters, but the socks and shin guards had been removed, leaving his muscular legs bare. His skin-tight performance T-shirt was rucked up just above his belly button, and he still had his elbow pads on, which was weird, but Harris was extremely into it.
“Troy.” Harris realized he’d said the name as if Troy was a magical being who he had only before seen in dreams. He forced himself to snap out of it. “Hi.”
“Hey. I didn’t know you were here.”
Harris could not stop staring. He knew it. And he knew Troy, Ilya, and Wyatt probably noticed. But he could not. Stop. Staring.
“Um,” Troy said. He ran a hand through his damp hair, pushing it back off his forehead. “Are you, uh...” He glanced down. “Oh. You brought Chiron.”
“Harris is Chiron’s new dad,” Ilya said.
“What do you mean?” Troy asked.
“Um.” Harris had planned to surprise Troy with this announcement later but, well, Ilya. “I think I might adopt Chiron. He’s not going to be a therapy dog, but he’s still the team dog, and, uh...” Jesus, Troy looked like an amalgam of Harris’s entire jock fantasy porn playlist.
“He’s big now,” Troy said.
“Uh-huh.”
Then Troy smiled at him, seeming to notice the effect his appearance was having on Harris. He nodded in the direction of his stall, then walked toward it. Harris followed helplessly.
Troy’s garter straps were hanging loose and bouncing off his massive thighs as he walked. He had fancy athletic underwear on under the jock that looked like little black booty shorts. They clung to every inch of his ass, showing off the ripple of his muscles.
When they got to his stall, Troy said, “You’re really adopting Chiron? That’s awesome.”
“I thought you’d like that.” Harris stepped close, and fought the urge to put his hands on Troy’s chest. “This is completely unfair,” he murmured.
“What?”
“This!” Harris waved a hand over Troy’s body. “Tell me you have a spare jock at home.”
Troy smiled wickedly. “Why? You got a fetish for hockey gear?”
“Uh, yeah.” Harris said it like it was obvious. “Like, you have no idea. Look!” He gestured toward the bulge that had appeared in his jeans.
Troy looked, and when he met Harris’s gaze again, his eyes were dark and full of heat. “This is interesting.”
Harris felt hot everywhere. “It’s just a fantasy or whatever. You don’t have to make a big deal about it.”
Troy’s gaze dropped back to Harris’s crotch. “Looks like I already did.”
“Oh fuck.” Harris shook his head. “Nope. Okay. We’ve got serious stuff to discuss.”
Troy’s eyes lost some of their heat. “We do.”
“How’d it go with your mom?”
“Amazing. She was super supportive and great.”
Harris beamed, and nearly kissed him right there in the locker room. “That’s awesome!”
“Yeah. And when I got here, Coach called me into his office to tell me that Crowell is mad that I’m posting again.”
Harris rolled his eyes. “Oh fuck. Are you serious?”
“But listen, Coach said management supports me. And so does he. They aren’t going to do anything to discipline me, even though Crowell asked them to.”
God, Harris loved this team. “I’m not surprised. I told you we only have good people here. Sounds like you got a lot of love today.”
“I wouldn’t mind a little more,” Troy said seductively. Then his eyes went wide. “Oh! And Coach knows about us! He caught us, uh, smooching, as he put it, in your office.”
Whoops. “Shit, Troy. Sorry. Are you okay?”
Troy nodded. “I’m okay. I feel great, actually. I think I might come out to the team. Like, maybe right now?”
“Right now? Here?”
“Yeah. What do you think?”
“It’s okay with me, but are you sure you—”
But Troy had already stepped up to stand on the bench in his stall.
“Hey, everyone,” he announced loudly.
The room got slightly quieter. Then Ilya said, “Everyone shut up and listen to Barrett,” and the room went silent.
“Just one thing,” Troy said. His voice was surprisingly steady. “I’m dating Harris. We’re together. I’m gay.”
Well, it wasn’t poetry. But it still made Harris’s eyes fill with tears.
There was another seemingly endless moment of silence, and then there was applause. And whistling. And cheering.
Troy slumped back against the wall, as if he couldn’t believe he had just done that. He stared wide-eyed at his teammates until a wide, elated smile stretched across his face.
“I’d like that to stay in this room for now,” Troy said, still smiling. “Please. Okay. Thank you.”
He stepped down, into Harris’s waiting arms. Harris hugged him tight, not caring at all that he was drenched in sweat and smelled like a gym bag. “That was weird. I loved it.”
“It was okay?”
“I said I loved it.”
“We still have to, like, officially disclose the relationship,” Troy said.
“I know. It’s just a formality. No one will care.”
“Okay. Can I kiss you?”
“Everyone is probably watching.”
“Then I’d better make it a good one.”
Troy placed a firm hand on Harris’s back, dipped him slightly, and went for it.
Everyone whooped and clapped around them, as Troy kissed Harris like he’d just returned from the war.
Harris did his best to return it, and not just get swept away.
He was so fucking proud of Troy, and still more than a little overwhelmed that somehow Troy thought Harris was worth all this upheaval.
That he wanted to be with Harris enough to face his deepest fears.
When they broke apart, Troy straightened and waved awkwardly at his rowdy teammates.
“Way to go, Harris!” Bood yelled.
Harris knew he was blushing, but he also couldn’t stop smiling. “See you later?” he asked Troy.
“If these guys ever stop making fun of me, yeah.”
He said it as if he was annoyed, but Troy’s smile and misty eyes said he was anything but.