12. Home
12
HOME
Nico
My throat tightens as I hoist the heavy hockey bag onto my shoulder and take one last look around the locker room. As I turn toward the exit, my path is blocked by a whole crowd of half-dressed muscular men.
"Hovenberg, you didn't think we’d let you sneak off, did you?" says Philipp, our captain, with a raised eyebrow. I can just about see him over the shoulders of my now former teammates bear-hugging me one after another. It’s so unexpected, my heart is fluttering.
The last few months have been a real whirlwind. I can't believe everything that’s happened and how my life has changed.
We didn't win an Olympic gold medal.
The game against the Canadians was tough. Extremely tough. It was also great fun, though, because Daniel and I knew so many of the opposing players. The smash talk was hilarious even though we were behind from the start. They played us off the rink. There was little we could do against such a concentration of NHL stars.
We were upset, of course, but not for long. It was a unique experience and ... we got silver! It was an incredible success for the team and for our country. We partied all night long, and even Leo and Guillaume turned up.
We were still riding the wave of endorphins several days later. But I made an important decision that very evening: Winning an Olympic silver medal was the highlight of my career and it should remain that way — in spite of all the scouts who started buzzing around our team.
My AHL contract, which expires at the end of the season and gave me so many sleepless nights, turned out to be a real blessing. Daniel wasn't the only one who was blindsided when I announced the day after our game that I’d be hanging up my hockey skates at the end of the season.
I love ice hockey, but at the same time it was always an escape. It was the only way to dodge a life that was laid out for me, and after the break with my father, I felt that I was finally free to discover who I really was.
That my father’s severing ties with me was quite clear. Since the text message I received from him after our victory in the semifinals, I haven't heard from him. Even the news that I was quitting ice hockey didn't prompt a reaction. I assume that I’m dead to him. And it is so liberating!
That meant being liberated from the pressures of playing professional ice hockey, too, to a certain extent. As much as I love the sport, I just don't feel that irrepressible passion for the game that Daniel and most of my other teammates have. So, I've drawn a line.
There was also another factor that had a huge influence on my decision. Daniel and I had only been dating for weeks, and I couldn’t think of anything worse than trying to make a long-distance relationship work. Especially considering how many playing years we’d have left, our hectic and potentially clashing schedules, not to mention being 2,500 miles apart. That’s not what I want in a relationship.
The last few months of playing out my contract have shown how right my decision was. It was so hard! I sometimes had the feeling that I hadn’t talked to Daniel for weeks. I'm exaggerating, I know. We talked on the phone at least five times a week, plus messaged each other constantly, but it's not the same and sometimes we were so tired during our conversations that, more often than not, we fell asleep together … long distance and without the bonus of physical contact.
I’m also greedy. After being alone for so long, I finally want the whole package. I want to have a real relationship with a normal routine, with the quarrels, with the wonderful sex, and with the companionship of falling asleep together.
That’s why today I'm hanging up my hockey skates. It's surprisingly easy despite the tinge of melancholy that comes from knowing a big part of my life is coming to an end. Daniel flew to Toronto for my last game, and tomorrow, we’re getting on a plane back to Los Angeles. I've enrolled at a university there.
For the longest time, I couldn’t pick a course. My first thought was something to do with prehistory and early history, mainly because it would have driven my father crazy if his only son “wasted” his time on something he’d see as useless. Vincent and I always loved history in school, and since we were fifteen years old, we had a secret plan that when we retired, we’d enroll in college to study history. Vincent would do medieval history, and I’d choose prehistory and early history.
Now, I had the chance to do it earlier. But at our silver medal celebration party, Guillaume and I got chatting and I took him up on his invitation to get to know each other better. In the last few months, a real friendship has developed between Guillaume and me, and since then, hardly a day goes by that we don't message or call each other.
He told me so much about the Paralympic Games that Leo and he were staying on in Beijing for, and also about his own experiences as an athlete at these competitions. By chance, I then saw an exciting report on TV about the elaborate and challenging science of prosthesis manufacturing, and I knew immediately that this was the perfect fit for me.
My aim is to work with athletes like Guillaume after my course. That way, I'll stay true to ice hockey for a while. Daniel has already organized for me to start as a coach with the sledge hockey team in Los Angeles where he helps out. I can hardly wait until my studies — and the sledge hockey training — start in the fall.
Before that, though, I'm looking forward to a relaxing few weeks with a wonderful man by my side.
"Let's go for a beer!" one of our D-men suggests enthusiastically.
I’m incredibly touched by the offer, but we had a home game, and I know that everyone just wants to go home to their families after the exhausting season. The fact that they’re even offering to give me some of their precious downtime is unbelievable. It also shows how much has changed in recent weeks. I’ve become more open and better at interacting with the guys. I’d even call many of my teammates friends now, which wasn't the case before the Olympics.
Only one thing hasn’t changed, though. I haven’t come out to my colleagues.
Daniel and I took Guillaume's advice and talked a lot. About our hopes and dreams, but also about our fears and anxieties. During one of these conversations, we decided that, for the time being, we wouldn’t officially come out as a couple. Not because we are ashamed or insecure — quite the opposite. We just want to have some time to ourselves. We know we’re made for each other, and we want to savor that feeling before we let in the outside world.
When I move in with Daniel, we won't hide who we are or what we are to each other — but we don’t want to come out with a huge fanfare either. The thought of the media circus that coming out would involve makes my stomach sink.
Before that feeling can bring me down, I remind myself that’s way off yet.
"Come on, Hovenberg! Just one beer," our captain Philipp urges.
The offer is really tempting, but I haven't seen Daniel in the flesh once in the last month and now he's here! He flew to Toronto especially for my last game. He could come with us, of course. Nobody would think anything of it. Everyone knows we’re Terengian national teammates. But honestly, I can think of better things to do with Daniel than hang out with these guys, no matter how much they've grown on me over the past few months.
"You know what?" I shout, taking in the whole room. "How about I come to your first game of next season and then we'll all go out for a quiet drink."
There are plenty of approving murmurs and Philipp finally slaps the hand I’m holding out by way of a promise. Most of my colleagues are more than happy about this. We've all had enough after the long season. Except maybe for Philipp who just broke up with his girlfriend and would probably be glad of some company.
Briefly, my guilty conscience stirs. Am I a horrible friend because I prefer to spend the evening with my partner and not keep a colleague company? But Philip uses my hand to pull me into a hug and then slaps my back soundly, so I guess he’s okay with it.
"Why don't you come visit me in L.A. sometime?" I suggest. The team knows that I'm moving to the West Coast; I just kept the details vague.
"You know what, man? I'll do that!" Philipp agrees enthusiastically.
I can't stop my stomach from fluttering with excitement at these words. That visit is going to be … interesting — a collision of my old world with my new one. But as Philipp told me the other day about attending his cousin's wedding to another man, I'm pretty sure he’ll be okay with Daniel and me, even if it takes him by surprise.
After saying goodbye to everyone, I turn and walk briskly through the arena's long corridors. My footsteps echo off the bare concrete walls, making me hurry even more. Why? Because outside in the parking lot, Daniel is waiting for me in my car.
How do I know that? He sent me a selfie earlier. Or at least a photo of his left hand gripping my steering wheel with the caption:
I know what this is going to do to you today.
Followed by a winking smiley.
I had to stifle a groan when I read it — in the middle of the locker room surrounded by half-naked men. I love Daniel's hands. Something he’s well aware of. And ever since I confessed this little kink to him, he keeps sending me pictures like this.
Amused, I shake my head. That crazy man is going to kill me, but it’ll be worth it.
Outside the arena, my big white SUV is parked in its spot. I only bought it two years ago, but it’s staying in Canada. I’m hoping I won't need the four-wheel drive as often in California. Anyway, Daniel promised me something a little sportier, and I'll hold him to it.
With a grin on my lips, I throw my hockey gear in the trunk and climb into the passenger seat. I haven't quite closed the car door behind me before Daniel's lips are on mine. I open my mouth willingly for him. It feels so damn good to kiss him! I’ve missed this feeling so much in recent weeks.
I never want this kiss to end and it seems that my dark-haired boyfriend feels the same way. So, for a few glorious minutes I float in seventh heaven, until Daniel takes his mouth from mine. I grumble and need a moment to come back down to earth.
"Great game today, my darling!" my wonderful man says. Then his eyes become guarded. "Are you quite sure about ending your ice hockey career now? There were a whole lot of scouts in the rink, and you were brilliant!"
I look at him lovingly. The last few months have not only taken their toll on me. Daniel hasn’t enjoyed being apart either. So knowing that he’d support me despite that means the world to me.
"Yes, I'm quite sure!"
And it's true. I’ve never been so sure about anything in my life. I can't wait to start the rest of our lives together.
"Take me home, baby!"
Daniel
"Take me home, baby!"
I have to force myself to keep my eyes on the road. My heart leaps. I can't tell you how much this sentence from Nico means to me.
The last few months have been hard. It wasn’t just the distance between us, it was knowing Nico still struggles with so many things that I take for granted and I wanted to be by his side to help. And I'm not just talking about the big things like telling his family he’s gay or the resulting break with his parents, but even little things, like calling me by a pet name, or simple tender couple-y gestures, they’re all difficult for him. I could kick his parents' butts. How can you raise a child like that? I can't wait to have Nico around every day so I can shower him with affection. He more than deserves it!
There’s one thing I had a problem with, though. In the last few months, Nico played several games for the Toronto Maple Leafs and shone. If he wanted to, he could have signed with them, no problem, and I had the stupid feeling that he was throwing away everything he's been working towards his whole life just because of me.
He had to school me about why he didn't want to play in the NHL anymore. It was only when I understood that he doesn't need hockey as a way out of the family business anymore that I could make my peace with it.
Despite knowing that, after seeing all the scouts in the stands at Nico’s game today, I had to ask again, one last time just to be sure. But the truth is, I trust him. I trust him completely. If he says he's done with ice hockey then that’s that, and I know he won't blame me later.
We reach the high-rise building where Nico has been living for the last few years within minutes, and when we eventually step through his apartment door, the rooms are full of stacked boxes and only the odd stick of furniture is left.
Tomorrow morning, the moving company is coming, and then we jump on a plane to start our life together in California. I can hardly wait! I’m so happy that Nico is moving in with me.
In the beginning, when we talked about him moving to L.A., he wanted to get his own place. His reasoning wasn't bad. He wanted to give us some time to get used to being around each other and still have our own place to retreat to if needed.
It didn’t take me long to convince him that having his own place would be a waste of money — we’d want to spend every evening together anyway. And when I got a few separate rooms of my, frankly, massive house ready as his own personal suite just in time for his last visit, he couldn’t wait to move in.
I don't think that having his own set of rooms were the deciding factor in us living together, though. It was more that the longer we were apart, the more he realized he didn’t want to live near me, he wanted to live with me. It felt that way in any case.
We’ve been apart for over a month this time, and apart from that one kiss in the car earlier, I haven't had a chance to do more yet. My flight didn't arrive until Nico was already at the stadium preparing for his last game.
So, as soon as the door closes behind us, I drop to my knees and press Nico against me. A shiver runs through his body.
"I missed you!" I say as I lick my lips and unzip Nico's pants.
"I ... I ... I ..."
I grin. I know all too well what Nico wants to tell me: That he missed me terribly, too, probably even more than I missed him. But I haven't lost the ability to make him speechless with one touch, and I hope that it stays that way forever.
I have his pants and underwear down quick as a flash and his gorgeous cock pops out. Satisfied, I hum as I take it in my mouth. The vibrations must be hitting the spot because one of Nico’s hands find my shoulder and starts clawing it. I hum louder as his cock hits the back of my throat. I breathe in the delightfully masculine scent of Nico's pubic hair.
A gigantic moan echoes off the walls in the largely the empty room, and from the way Nico is clinging to me and struggling to stay upright, it's probably going to be quick. Perfect!
After the long weeks apart, I want to taste him. Rediscovering every inch of his body can wait. Until California? Probably not that long. Nico might just resign himself to the fact that I’ll be driving him crazy all night long. I hope he’s finished packing because there won't be much time left tonight.
There’s a surprise for him in my luggage, too. I bought him a new dildo. I’d promised him ages ago, back in Beijing, that after I’d come inside him, I’d continue to fuck him with a dildo. Tonight seems like a good time to put this promise into action. Later, though.
Now I just want to taste him. I pull back until only Nico's plump cock tip remains in my mouth. Then I suck on it as hard as I can. The cries he’s making are becoming desperate and his second hand has found its way into my tousled hair. The way he’s pulling it is his way of telling me that he's way too close to his climax. Time to let him know he doesn’t need to wait today.
I let his magnificent cock slide out of my mouth enough for the command, "Come!"
That one word is enough. Even before my lips close back around Nico's length, he’s exploding and I gobble up his come greedily I try to swallow all his juice.
With my free hand, I’ve been spanking my own cock at the same time as sucking his. Nico's orgasm triggered mine and for a seemingly endless time, my whole being contracts to one aim — to get everything I can from Nico, while riding out my own massive climax before I collapse.
Nico still has his back against the door, but within seconds, he’s sliding to the floor. Groaning, I settle next to him and his head sinks onto my shoulder as we catch our breath.
"This should be our first house rule. Every time I step through a door, you have to blow me," Nico says — totally deadpan.
A half gasp, half giggle comes out of my mouth. I love this crazy man!
"I don't think either of us would survive," I muse.
"It’d be worth it, though."
Well, he’s not wrong ...
"I can't wait to wake up next to you every day … starting tomorrow," Nico adds after a few quiet seconds.
We both know that's not going to happen. There’ll be plenty of nights when the hockey season drags me to away games all over North America. But what Nico means is more than clear.
"I can't wait to start our life together properly either, my darling!" And I press a kiss on Nico's temple.
He blushes a little when I say this. He loves to hear his name, or even better, words of endearment, like "my darling," "sweetie," or “dearest” on my lips. But even though he’s made so much progress in the last few months, he is still gets a little shy.
“I love you!” he says at last.
“Me too!” And with these words, I pull Nico up from the floor and lead him to his bedroom.
Today, I’ll prove to him with my hands and my mouth how much I love him.
And from tomorrow, I’ll make it my mission to show him that he’s come home.