Chapter 21 #2
“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Jacob said suddenly, his voice thick with alcohol and unguarded sincerity. “Like… ever. Hockey, parties, all of it… it’s better because you’re here. You make me want to be better.”
Tane froze for a second, hand halfway to the water glass on the nightstand.
He played it off with a small smile.
“That’s the beer talking, kid,” Tane said. “And probably Petrone too.”
Jacob shook his head, slow and stubborn. “Nope. Sober Jacob thinks it too. Drunk Jacob is just brave enough to say it.”
Tane laughed but swallowed hard. Something warm and unfamiliar expanded in his chest… tender, almost painful. He sat on the edge of the mattress, brushed a lock of blond hair off Jacob’s forehead.
“Get some sleep,” he said quietly. “We’ve got a championship to win.”
Jacob caught his hand, held it against his cheek. “Promise you’ll still be here when I wake up?”
“Always,” Tane murmured.
He waited until Jacob’s breathing evened out, soft snores filling the room. Then he stood, turned off the lamp, and walked back to the living room.
The whisky waited on the side table. Tane picked it up, stared at the amber liquid for a long moment, then set it down untouched.
He wasn’t ready to quit. Not yet.
But tonight, for the first time in months, he let himself wonder what came after.
The shoulder throbbed in answer.
Tane rubbed it absently and looked out at the city lights.
One game at a time.
One breath at a time.
One more shift…
* * *
Morning light filtered through the half-open blinds in soft gold stripes across the bedroom floor. Tane woke first, as always, his body clock still tuned to twenty years of early skates and film sessions.
The shoulder had settled to a low, manageable ache overnight. Ice, compression, and the whisky he hadn’t finished had done their job. He rolled onto his side and watched Jacob for a minute.
Jacob was sprawled on his stomach, face mashed into the pillow, blond hair a chaotic halo, mouth slightly open. One arm dangled off the edge of the mattress.
The sheet had slipped down to his hips, exposing the curve of his lower back and the faint red marks from last week’s playful session that hadn’t quite faded.
Tane felt a quiet swell of something warm and steady in his chest. Affection, protectiveness, the simple satisfaction of waking up next to someone who belonged there.
“Damn, boy,” Tane whispered. “You’ve got me just where you want me.”
Tane slipped out of bed carefully, pulled on sweatpants and a faded Enforcers tee, and padded to the kitchen.
The blender whirred to life a few minutes later.
Banana, frozen berries, spinach, Greek yogurt, oat milk, a scoop of vanilla protein powder, and a generous drizzle of honey. Tane knew Jacob’s hangover cure by heart now: sweet enough to trick the stomach, nutrient-dense enough to fight the regret.
By the time the smoothie was poured into two tall glasses, Jacob had shuffled into the kitchen doorway, wearing nothing but yesterday’s boxer briefs and a grimace.
His eyes were puffy, hair sticking up at odd angles, and he looked exactly like a twenty-one-year-old who’d tried to match Connor shot-for-shot.
“Morning, sunshine,” Tane said, sliding one glass across the island.
Jacob groaned and dropped onto a stool. “Why is the sun so angry?”
“Because you told it to fuck off at 2 a.m.,” Tane laughed in response. “You know, when you were singing karaoke in the living room.”
Jacob winced. “I did that?”
“You did. Sweet Caroline at full volume. The neighbors probably have a petition going.”
Jacob buried his face in his hands. “Kill me. Urgh.”
Tane came around the island, set his own glass down, and gently tugged Jacob’s wrists away from his face.
“Drink. Slowly,” Tane said, firmly but with a warmness too. “Then maybe you live.”
Jacob took a tentative sip, then another. Color started creeping back into his cheeks almost immediately. He looked up at Tane through his lashes… still bleary, but grateful.
“You made this for me,” Jacob said, his words still somewhat disjointed as he worked to fight the hangover. “I don’t know how you put up with me.”
“Someone has to keep you alive after a night with the boys,” Tane laughed. “I know how much the likes of Connor and Alex can drink. Being around them is a tough ask for a grizzled veteran, let alone a young pup like you.”
Jacob’s mouth curved into a small, sheepish smile. “You like taking care of me.”
Tane didn’t deny it. He leaned one hip against the counter, arms crossed, and let himself admit it out loud. “Yeah. I do.”
Jacob reached across the island and hooked two fingers in the waistband of Tane’s sweatpants, tugging lightly.
“You’re good at it,” Jacob whispered. “Like… stupidly good. It makes me feel safe.”
Tane’s throat tightened for a second. He covered Jacob’s hand with his own, thumb brushing over knuckles. “Good. That’s the point.”
They finished the smoothies in comfortable quiet, the only sounds the being the fridge and the distant city traffic below. Jacob’s color was better, his eyes clearer. He stretched, winced at the motion, then looked at Tane with renewed mischief.
“Roast Days?” he asked hopefully. “Brunch. Pancakes. Bacon. Coffee that doesn’t taste like jet fuel?”
Tane raised an eyebrow. “You sure you’re up for it?”
“I’m hungover, not dead,” Jacob laughed, his voice still croaking from the late night. “And their breakfast burrito is basically medicine.”
Tane considered him for a moment… the hopeful tilt of his head, the way he was already reaching for the hoodie he’d left draped over a chair last night.
The shoulder twinged in reminder, but the thought of sitting across from Jacob in a booth, watching him demolish food and chatter through the fog, felt better than any physio session.
“Fine,” Tane said. “But we’re going straight there, eating, and coming home. No detours. And absolutely no kink room today.”
Jacob’s face fell comically. “But—”
“No buts,” Tane laughed. “Not even that juicy butt of yours. You’re hungover. I’m not tying you up when you can barely stand coffee. You’ll safeword the second the ropes touch skin.”
Jacob pouted, dramatic and endearing. “You’re no fun.”
“I’m plenty fun when you’re not three sheets to the wind and reeking of IPA.”
Jacob sighed theatrically, but the corners of his mouth twitched. “Fine. Brunch only. But you owe me.”
Tane arched his eyebrow and stepped closer, cupped the back of Jacob’s neck, and pulled him in until their foreheads touched. “Deal.”
Jacob leaned into the touch, eyes fluttering closed for a second. When he opened them again, the mischief had softened into something warmer, more vulnerable.
“Thank you,” Jacob said quietly. ““or last night. For this morning. For… not making me feel stupid about being a mess.”
Tane brushed his thumb along Jacob’s jaw. “You’re not a mess. You’re twenty-one, you just won a playoff game, and you’re allowed to celebrate. I like all the versions of you. Even the drunk, horny, off-key ones.”
Jacob laughed softly, the sound muffled against Tane’s shoulder as he wrapped both arms around Tane’s waist in a sudden, tight hug. Tane returned it without hesitation, one hand splayed across Jacob’s bare back, the other cradling the nape of his neck.
They stood like that for a long minute—bodies pressed close, breathing in sync, the apartment quiet around them.
Eventually Jacob pulled back just enough to look up at him.
“I meant what I said last night,” Jacob said. “Even if I was drunk. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me.”
Tane’s chest squeezed. He didn’t brush it off this time, just leaned down and kissed Jacob slow and gentle, tasting honey and berries on his lips.
“I know,” Tane murmured against his mouth. “Now get dressed before I change my mind about brunch and drag you back to bed for non-kinky cuddles.”
Jacob grinned, bright and unguarded. “Yes, Captain.”
Jacob then darted off to the bedroom to find clothes. Tane watched him go, then turned back to the sink to rinse the blender. The shoulder protested when he reached for a dish towel, but he ignored it.
Outside, the city waited.
Later that week there would be a meeting at Pine Rise for a film review, another game looming on the way toward the championship. But right now, there was brunch, and Jacob’s hand in his under the table, and the simple, profound pleasure of taking care of someone who let him.
Tane smiled to himself as he dried his hands.
One morning at a time.
There was life in the old champ yet.