Epilogue - Cory
Three months later
Cory
NHL training is so far above what I was doing in Boston, it’s not funny. It’s also fucking amazing. The season hasn’t even started, but Nate and I have been working with a private coach and the Mounties team to make sure we hit the ice running. Or skating.
My body is capable of things I would never have expected.
I’m lifting more. Bulking up. Definitely eating more.
Skating faster. I’m also deeper in love than I ever felt possible.
Feeling Jamie trusting me more and more with his authentic self.
Just as I did, and still do, with him, has altered how I see myself.
I truly feel like a man. One deserving of him.
Because of his masking, I don’t think I realized the impact his autism had on his day to day living until he moved in. Even though he’s loving his work for a NFP working with adults and kids with autism, it’s been a tough transition.
The grief he had been too busy to acknowledge hit hard, and watching him struggle through it was heartbreaking and eye opening.
Boston, his home and the center of so many of the routines he’d built his life around, is gone.
As are the people. It’s clear to see how much he misses Faith and Dylan, but the pain of absence is made easier by knowing they are both thriving.
Bit by bit, day by day, we’re making new routines. Creating new traditions and fucking like rabbits. We’ve made some friends, too. Tom, Nate McKinney’s boyfriend being one of them. He’s older and grumpier, and hates people even more than Jamie claims to. They’re perfect for each other.
Just like Spidey and Hulk are.
Just like Jamie and me are.
Three months later
James
“Tell me this, Kid. How is it that I’m more nervous than you?” Looking drop-dead gorgeous in the new suit he had to have made after I tore him out of the last one, Cory turns to face me.
“Superior intellect. Good looks. Skills. Should I go on?”
“Nope, I think you covered everything. Oh, except massive ego.”
“Oui.”
With a chuckle, and the slight dick-twitch that happens whenever he speaks French, I pull into the Mounties player’s parking area and take the first spot I can find.
“There’s probably not many NHL’ers being dropped off for their first game by their boyfriend, but fuck it. Maybe we can make it cool.”
“Tom’s driving Nate, and calling it cool instantly makes it uncool.”
“Says the guy wearing Spider-Man briefs.”
Turning off the ignition, I slump back in my seat, rolling my head to take in the sight before me. “I’m really proud of you. You know that, right.”
“I do. And I’m really proud of you, too.”
“Pfft, what for?” I scoff. “Having only three freak-outs before we left the building, or pulling over to vomit on the drive here?”
Cory leans over, presses a kiss to my lips and hooks his pinkie into mine.
“Yep. For all of that, and for picking yourself up, dusting yourself off, and climbing right back in beside me. For agreeing to sit with the WAG’s even though I know you’ll hate every second of it,” he pauses, looks me up and down hungrily, “For wearing my jersey and for letting me fuck you in it when I get home.”
“Pretty sure I’ll be thanking you for the last one.” Cupping his jaw in my hand, I kiss him, pouring every ounce of belief and love I can into it. When I pull away, he stares up at me through tear stained lashes, doe-eyed and perfect.
“I love you, Jamie.”
“I love you, too, Cubby. Now go get ‘em.”