Chapter 26
Jacob
Jacob woke to the soft gray light filtering through the bedroom blinds and the steady rhythm of Tane’s breathing against his neck.
No alarm.
No headache.
No sour taste in his mouth or vague regret about shots he didn’t remember taking.
Just warm sheets, Tane’s arm slung heavy across his waist, and the quiet satisfaction of a body that felt banged up from the ice rather than what happened in the hours and days that followed.
It was a new sensation, but one that Jacob felt he could get used to.
He shifted slightly, testing. His ribs still ached from the hit that had sent him off, but the sling was off now, the bruise fading to yellow at the edges. Nothing broken. Nothing torn. Just the good kind of sore that reminded him he’d fought for every inch of that win.
Tane stirred behind him, tightening his hold for a second before loosening again.
Jacob felt the scratch of stubble against his shoulder blade, then a low, sleepy rumble.
“Morning,” Tane muttered, half-asleep.
Jacob smiled into the pillow. “Morning.”
They lay like that for a while—limbs tangled, breathing synced, the city waking slowly beyond the windows.
No rush to move. No practice until noon. Just them.
Jacob rolled onto his back so he could see Tane’s face. The older man’s eyes were half-open, dark hair mussed, silver threads at the temples catching the light.
Thirty-eight looked unfairly good on Tane right now—tired, yes, but content in a way Jacob hadn’t seen in weeks. Or maybe even ever.
“It’s nice,” Jacob said quietly. “You know, not waking up hungover.”
Tane’s mouth curved. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. No pounding skull. No dry mouth. No wondering what dumb thing I said at 2 a.m.…” Jacob traced a finger along Tane’s collarbone. ““ could get used to this version of mornings.”
Tane caught his hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed the knuckles.
“Good,” Tane laughed. “Because I like this version of you sober and annoying me in bed instead of singing off-key in the living room.”
Jacob laughed softly. “I only did that once.”
“Twice,” Tane corrected. “You forgot the Bohemian Rhapsody incident.”
Jacob groaned, burying his face against Tane’s chest. “Don’t remind me.”
They settled again, Jacob’s head tucked under Tane’s chin, one leg hooked over Tane’s thigh. The quiet stretched, comfortable and warm, until Jacob spoke again—voice smaller this time.
“As long as we’re together,” Jacob said, “I’m not scared of the Cardini stuff. The meetings, the warnings, the… whatever. I know it’s messy. I know it’s dangerous. But if I’ve got you, I can handle it.”
Tane went still for a heartbeat. Then his hand slid up Jacob’s back, fingers threading into blond hair.
“You don’t have to handle it alone,” Tane murmured. “That’s the point. We’re in this as a team. You and me. All of it.”
Jacob nodded against his chest. “I know.”
They stayed wrapped around each other until the light in the room brightened and the distant hum of traffic reminded them the day was waiting. Jacob pressed a slow kiss to the hollow of Tane’s throat, then pulled back just enough to meet his eyes.
“How’s the shoulder feeling today?”
Tane’s expression shuttered… subtle, but Jacob knew the signs: jaw tightening, gaze sliding to the ceiling, the faint crease between his brows.
“Same,” Tane said. “Manageable.”
Jacob propped himself on one elbow. “Tane…”
Tane exhaled through his nose.
For a long moment he said nothing. Then, quietly…
“I’m scared,” Tane confessed.
The admission hung between them. Raw, and totally unguarded. This was new ground.
“Not just for this season,” Tane continued, staring at the ceiling.
“The extension runs two more years after this one. If the surgery doesn’t fix it…
if I can’t get the strength back, the rotation, the shot…
I’m done being me on the ice. I’d rather walk away clean than limp through as a spare part.
A lesser version of the once great player.
Nah, that’s not me. I’ve seen guys do it.
Watched them chase one more year and end up hating the game they used to love. I don’t want that.”
Jacob’s throat tightened. He reached up, cupped Tane’s jaw, turned his face until their eyes met.
“You won’t,” Jacob said firmly. “You’re too stubborn. Too proud. And you’re too good. When it matters… when the lights are brightest… you always find a way. I’ve seen it. The whole league has seen it. You’ll come good. I know you will.”
Tane searched his face for a long moment, then gave the smallest nod.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.
Jacob leaned down and kissed him—slow, gentle, reassuring. Tane’s hand came up to cradle the back of his neck, holding him there for an extra beat before they parted.
They snuggled closer after that… Jacob tucked against Tane’s side, Tane’s good arm wrapped around him, fingers tracing idle patterns on Jacob’s bare back.
No more words.
Just breathing.
Jacob was used to being looked after, but being there for Tane in a moment of doubt felt better than he could ever have hoped for.
* * *
Later that afternoon, after a light skate and film review, they slipped into the players” sauna at Pine Rise.
The room was small, cedar-lined, the air heavy with heat and eucalyptus. Most of the team had already come and gone; only a couple of stragglers remained when Tane and Jacob arrived. They nodded hello, then waited in polite silence until the others filed out.
The door clicked shut behind the last guy.
Tane locked the door.
Jacob grinned.
They stripped down to towels…
Tane first, then Jacob.
They then settled onto the upper bench. The heat hit like a wall, sinking into sore muscles, loosening the knots left from seven hard games. Sweat beaded almost immediately, rolling down chests and stomachs in slow, glistening trails.
Jacob leaned back against the wall, eyes half-closed, letting the warmth seep in. Tane sat beside him, legs spread, towel draped loosely across his lap. The lidocaine from the morning had worn off hours ago; the shoulder ached steadily now, but the heat helped. Everything felt softer at the edges.
Jacob opened his eyes and looked over.
Tane was watching him… dark gaze steady, appreciative.
“What?” Jacob asked, smiling.
“You look good like this,” Tane growled. “Relaxed. Sweaty. Mine.”
Jacob’s pulse kicked up. He shifted closer until their thighs pressed together. Jacob reached over, fingers brushing the edge of Tane’s towel. Tane didn’t stop him.
The towel parted easily. Tane was already half-hard. Thick, heavy, flushed from the heat. Jacob wrapped his hand around him, stroking slow and deliberate, feeling Tane thicken fully in his grip.
Tane exhaled through his teeth. “Jacob…”
“Shh,” Jacob murmured. “Let me.”
He slid off the bench, knelt between Tane’s spread thighs on the lower level. The wood was hot against his knees, but he barely noticed. All he cared about was the man above him—broad chest rising and falling faster now, good hand braced on the bench behind him, bad shoulder held carefully still.
Jacob leaned in, licked a slow stripe from the base to the tip of his hard cock. Tane’s hips twitched, and he grunted.
Jacob took him deeper. Slow at first, savoring the weight on his tongue, the salt and heat. Then faster. Wetter. One hand braced on Tane’s thigh, the other stroking what his mouth couldn’t reach.
Tane’s breathing turned ragged. His good hand slid into Jacob’s damp hair—not guiding, just holding.
“Fuck, baby,” Tane rasped. “Just like that.”
Jacob hummed around him, the vibration making Tane curse softly, and took all of Tane’s seed to the back of his throat and held it there for a moment before swallowing it all.
Tane’s thighs tensed. His grip tightened in Jacob’s hair.
Jacob didn’t pull off. He doubled down—hollowed cheeks, swirling tongue, hand twisting at the base—until Tane arched, a low groan tearing from his throat, and finished cumming with the hottest, most animalistic grunt of pleasure.
Jacob swallowed every last pulse of Tane’s hot cum, then pulled off slowly, licking his lips as he looked up.
Tane stared down at him, his eyes dark, chest heaving, expression wrecked and tender all at once.
“Come here,” Tane said, his voice hoarse.
Jacob climbed back onto the bench. Tane pulled him in, careful of both their injuries, and kissed him deep, tasting himself on Jacob’s tongue.
When they broke apart, foreheads pressed together, sweat-slick and spent, Tane murmured against Jacob’s mouth:
“You’re gonna kill me one day,” Tane laughed.
Jacob grinned. “Would it be worth it?”
“No comment!” Tane rasped, his face full of satisfaction.
They sat like that—tangled, breathing each other in—until the heat became too much and they finally stood, wrapped fresh towels around their waists, and headed for the showers.
Outside the sauna door, the hallway was quiet.
This was a good moment, one of relaxation and relief.
But there were more battles on the horizon. Battles that would define their legacy as players, and as a couple too…