16. Finn
Chapter sixteen
Finn
T he locker room hummed with a bittersweet energy as I laced up my skates. Last game of the season. No playoffs in our future, but hell if we weren't going to leave everything on the ice.
"Yo, Novak!" Blaise's voice cut through the buzz. "Bet you can't wait to hit the beach this summer with your boy toy, huh?"
I rolled my eyes, but couldn't hide my grin. "Unlike some people, I actually plan on training this offseason."
"Ooh, sick burn!" Sergei chuckled, tossing a roll of tape my way. "Little Finn, he grows teeth, da?"
"About time," Axel grumbled from his stall. "Kid was too nice for his own good."
I caught the tape and started wrapping my stick. "You saying I'm not nice anymore, old man?"
Axel's weathered face cracked into a rare smile. "I'm saying you finally grew a pair. Took you long enough."
"Speaking of pairs," Blaise wiggled his eyebrows, "how's things with the Moose? He still making you eat those nasty protein bites? Or do you have a seaweed spectacular for breakfast?"
I felt my cheeks warm but held my ground. "Hey, those things are good for you. Maybe if you ate some, you wouldn't be sucking wind in the third period."
"Ooh!" The locker room erupted in laughter and catcalls.
Blaise clutched his chest in mock pain. "Et tu, Finn? I thought we were bros!"
"Children, please," Coach Fraser's voice boomed as he entered. "Save some energy for the ice, yeah?"
As the laughter died down, Sergei caught my eye from across the room. "Ready to fly, Novak?"
I looked up, surprised by the earnest tone in his usually gruff voice. His face was a map of the season's highs and lows, but his eyes held nothing but respect.
"Born ready," I shot back, the confidence in my voice catching me off guard. A few months ago, I'd have mumbled something self-deprecating. Now? I felt the truth of it in my bones.
As I stood to grab my stick, Axel clapped me on the shoulder. "Go get 'em, kid," he said, his gruff tone belying the warmth in his eyes.
I nodded, throat suddenly tight with emotion. "Thanks, Axel."
Blaise bounded over, practically vibrating with pre-game energy. "Alright, let's do this! For pride, for glory, for... whatever comes after glory!"
"For making sure Blaise doesn't embarrass himself on live TV?" I quipped, earning another round of laughter.
As we filed out towards the ice, the familiar scents of sweat and stick tape filled my nostrils. The distant roar of the crowd grew louder with each step, sending adrenaline surging through my veins.
As we lined up for the national anthem, I caught Moose's eye in the stands. He gave me a subtle nod, and suddenly, I felt ten feet tall.
The puck dropped, and the world narrowed to the flash of blades on ice, the staccato rhythm of sticks clashing. I lost myself in the flow of the game, my body moving on instinct, faster than thought.
First period was a blur of near-misses and bone-jarring checks. I took a hard hit against the boards, the impact rattling my teeth, but I shook it off and kept moving. No way was I slowing down, not tonight.
"Nice hit, Novak!" Sergei bellowed as I stole the puck and cleared our zone. "Show them we're no pushovers!"
The crowd's roar washed over me as I streaked down the ice, looking for an opening. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Blaise breaking free of his defender.
"Blaise!" I shouted, feinting left before sending a crisp pass his way. He one-timed it, the puck whistling past the goalie's glove.
The horn blared, and I was there to slam into his celebration hug. "Atta boy!" I yelled over the crowd's cheers. "Told you those protein bites would pay off!"
But our lead was short-lived. The opposition came back hard in the second period, hemming us in our own zone. I felt my lungs burning as I chased down loose pucks, desperately trying to relieve the pressure.
"Come on, men!" Axel's voice cut through the chaos. "Stop playing like boys. Dig deep! We're not done yet!"
Midway through the second, I saw my opening. Their defenseman telegraphed his pass, and I pounced, intercepting the puck and breaking away. The ice opened up before me, nothing between me and the goalie but sixty feet of pristine white.
Time seemed to slow. I could hear my heartbeat thundering in my ears, feel every inch of the ice beneath my blades. The goal grew larger as I approached, the goalie's movements slowing to a crawl in my perception.
I feinted left, watching the goalie commit. Then, in one fluid motion, I pulled the puck back and flicked it top shelf, right where mama keeps the cookies.
The horn blared, and suddenly I was at the bottom of a dogpile, my teammates' ecstatic yells filling my ears. As we disentangled ourselves, I caught a glimpse of Moose in the stands, on his feet, pumping his fist in the air. My heart soared higher than any goal could send it.
The third period was a war of attrition. Both teams were running on fumes, but neither willing to give an inch. I took another shift, legs burning, lungs screaming for air. But I pushed through, chasing down every puck, fighting for every inch of ice.
With two minutes left, we were down by one. Coach called a timeout, his face intense as he outlined our final play.
"Novak, you're our speed. I need you to create chaos out there, open up some space. Sergei, Axel, be ready for the rebound. This is our last shot, make it count."
The face off was a blur. I darted through gaps in their defense, drawing attention, creating openings. Blaise got the puck, fired a shot. The goalie made the save, but the rebound kicked out right to Axel's stick.
Time seemed to stand still as Axel wound up. The puck left his stick like a rocket, heading for the top corner. For a moment, I thought we had it.
But their goalie somehow got a piece of it, deflecting it just wide of the post. The final buzzer sounded, and just like that, our season was over.
I slumped against the boards, lungs burning, legs trembling. We'd given it everything we had, pushed ourselves to the absolute limit. And even though we'd fallen short, when I looked around at my teammates, I saw not defeat, but pride. We'd battled right to the bitter end, together.
As we skated off, Axel caught my eye. "Hell of a game, kid," he said, voice gruff with emotion. "Hell of a season."
I nodded, throat too tight for words. We'd lost the game, but somehow, I felt like I'd won something far more important—my confidence.
The locker room was a mix of exhaustion and subdued pride as we filed in after the game. The air was thick with the smell of sweat and equipment, punctuated by the sharp tang of adhesive spray.
"Damn," Blaise groaned, collapsing onto the bench in front of his stall. "I feel like I just went ten rounds with a grizzly bear."
"You look like it too," Sergei quipped, tossing a towel at Blaise's head. "Maybe grizzly would improve your ugly mug, eh?"
Laughter rippled through the room, breaking some of the tension.
I started unlacing my skates, wincing as I peeled off my sweat-soaked socks. Every muscle in my body ached, but it was a good kind of pain. The kind that said we'd left it all on the ice.
"Hey, Finn," Axel called from across the room. "That goal of yours? Pure fucking poetry, kid."
I felt my face heat up, but couldn't hide my grin. "Thanks. Thought I was gonna pass out after that breakaway."
"Nah, you were flying out there," Blaise chimed in. "Seriously, what's your secret? Rocket fuel? Illegal cybernetic enhancements?"
"Maybe he just works harder than you, lazy ass," Sergei laughed, dodging the wadded-up tape Blaisethrew his way.
Coach Fraser walked in then, his face a mix of emotions. "Alright, men. Gather 'round."
We formed a loose circle, some of us still half-dressed, others already showered.
"I know this isn't how we wanted the season to end," Coach began, his voice gruff. "But I want you all to know how proud I am of the effort you put out there tonight. You played with heart, with grit, and with pride. That's all I can ever ask of you."
He paused, looking around the room, meeting each of our eyes. "We've got a lot of work to do in the offseason, but right now, I want you to hold your heads high. You've earned it."
As Coach finished, I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Dr. Chen, the team psychologist. "Finn, a word?"
I nodded, following her to a quiet corner of the room.
"I just wanted to say," Dr. Chen began, her voice low, "that I've been really impressed with your growth this season. Not just on the ice, but off it too. You should be proud of yourself."
I swallowed hard, oddly touched. "Thanks, Doc. It's been... quite a journey."
Back at my stall, I overheard snippets of conversation as guys discussed offseason plans.
"I'm telling you," Blaise was saying, "beach volleyball is the ultimate cross-training. You in, Finn?"
I laughed, shaking my head. "Think I'll stick to ice, thanks. Less sand in uncomfortable places."
"Your loss, man. Hey, you bringing Moose to the end-of-season party?"
The question caught me off guard, but before I could answer, Sergei cut in. "Of course he is. We all want to see if Moose is as cuddly as his name."
More laughter, but it was good-natured. I felt a warmth in my chest that had nothing to do with physical exertion.
"Yeah," I said, surprised by how easily the words came. "Yeah, I'll bring him. Just don't expect him to share his protein bites. Those are strictly rationed."
As the banter continued around me, I caught Axel's eye across the room. He gave me a subtle nod, a silent acknowledgment of how far we'd all come. Not just as a team, but as people.
A few minutes later, the press room buzzed with activity as I made my way to the podium, the sharp scent of coffee mingling with the musty odor of damp wool suits. Camera flashes popped like lightning, momentarily blinding me as I took my seat. I blinked, willing my eyes to adjust as I scanned the sea of expectant faces.
"Finn Novak, ladies and gentlemen," the PR rep announced, her voice crisp and professional. "We'll start with questions."
A forest of hands shot up. I pointed to a familiar face in the front row, figuring I'd start with someone I knew.
"Jake, Portland Tribune ," he said, though the introduction was unnecessary. "Finn, tough loss tonight. How are you and the team feeling about the way the season ended?"
I leaned into the microphone, my voice raspier than I expected. "Obviously, we're disappointed. We wanted to give our fans a playoff run. But I'm proud of how we battled tonight, how we've grown as a team this season. We've laid a foundation to build on."
More hands. I chose a woman in a bright green blazer.
"Melissa Holmes, Hockey Night in America . Finn, your speed was on full display tonight, especially on that breakaway goal. Can you walk us through that moment?"
I couldn't help but smile, the memory still fresh. "Honestly? It's all a blur. I saw their D-man telegraph the pass, and instinct just took over. Next thing I knew, it was just me and the goalie. I faked left, he bit, and... well, you saw the rest."
A chuckle rippled through the room. I was starting to relax, finding my rhythm.
"Over here, Finn," a voice called from the back. "Steve Kowalski, ESPN . You've had quite a journey this season, both on and off the ice. How do you feel you've grown as a player and as a person?"
I paused, considering my words carefully. "It's been a season of challenges and growth, for sure. I've learned a lot about myself, about what I'm capable of when I stop doubting and start believing. And I've learned the importance of having a support system, both on the ice and off."
I saw a few reporters exchange glances, and I knew what was coming.
"Speaking of off-ice support," a young reporter piped up, "any comment on your relationship with the team's marketing director?"
The room fell silent, all eyes on me. A few months ago, this question would have sent me into a panic. But now? I met the reporter's gaze steadily.
"Yeah, I've got a comment," I said, my voice calm and clear. "He makes me a better player, and a better person. Next question?"
There was a moment of stunned silence, then a flurry of hands and voices. The PR rep stepped in, calling for order.
"Let's keep the questions focused on tonight's game and the season, please," she said firmly.
I fielded a few more questions about specific plays and my thoughts on next season before the PR rep called time.
As I stood to leave, Jake from the Tribune caught my eye. "Gutsy move, kid," he said quietly. "Respect."
I nodded, feeling a mix of relief and pride. As I walked out of the press room, my phone buzzed in my pocket. A text from Moose:
You're amazing. Can't wait to see you.
Later, in the quiet of Moose's apartment, we lay tangled together on his bed, the soft cotton sheets cool against our skin. The room was bathed in the warm glow of a bedside lamp, casting long shadows across the walls. Outside, the muted sounds of Portland's nightlife drifted up, a gentle reminder of the world beyond this moment.
I traced the lines of Moose's face with my fingertips, memorizing every detail. The strong curve of his jaw, the slight crinkles at the corners of his eyes, the softness of his lips. His skin was warm beneath my touch, alive with the steady rhythm of his breathing.
"What are you thinking?" Moose murmured, his breath warm against my cheek. His arms tightened around me, pulling me closer.
I smiled, feeling a peace I'd never known before. "I'm thinking... I can't wait for next season."
Moose chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Hockey on the brain even now, huh?"
"Not just hockey," I said, meeting his eyes. In the soft light, they looked almost golden. "Us. This. Everything."
He reached up, running his fingers through my hair. The gentle touch sent shivers down my spine. "Yeah?"
I nodded, leaning into his hand. "Yeah. For the first time, I feel like... like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be. Who I'm supposed to be."
Moose's expression softened, his eyes glistening with emotion. "Finn," he whispered, voice thick. "You have no idea how amazing you are, do you?"
Before I could respond, he pulled me into a kiss. It was soft at first, tender, but quickly deepened. I lost myself in the sensation, in the taste of him, the feel of his body against mine. My hands roamed across the broad expanse of his back, feeling the play of muscles beneath his skin.
When we pulled back from the kiss, I whispered, "I wanna ride."
"Yeah? I think that can be arranged."
Moose's plan for prepping me to ride his thick cock involved his lips, tongue and fingers. As his third lubed finger pushed past my ring, I gripped the sheets, wadding them into my fists.
He covered my face with little kisses and then pushed his tongue into my mouth. Then, he pulled back. "Damn, I think Agent Speedster is almost ready for action."
"Oh, fuck, yes—please." Lust hung in the air like a thick cloud between us. "I need that big Moose dick." I smirked, and then we both laughed.
He quickly sheathed himself with a condom and then lay back on the bed, ready for me to climb aboard. I gripped his cock and slowly lowered my ass. Gravity was my friend as he slowly thrust into me.
Moose was thick, and there was a little pain at first, but it didn't last long. My body felt full up into my chest. It made it feel like we were one. At first, I closed my eyes and slowly rode up and down. Then, when I opened them I saw Moose's smiling face. I could never get enough of it.
He gripped my hips and began to rock my body up and down at his own tempo.
“Oh, fuck—“
“Good?” whispered Finn.
“Better than that—no words.”
The apartment was soon full of grunts, moans, and erotic sounds of bodies slapping together. The thick scent of sexy hung in the air.
While I rode faster, Moose reached for my cock. He wrapped his thick fingers around it and began to pump.
A sound partway between a yelp and a moan rolled out from between my lips. "Fuck—so damn good. Fuck me, please."
Moose rocked me quickly, and then I was ready for a shift.
“Yeah, that's it, now slower.”
He followed my instructions. Soon, I was riding the edge and knew it wouldn't be much longer.
Moose grunted and moaned. "Fuck, your ass. My cock. Your ass."
I was suddenly ready, “Please, Moose, I'm ready. Come. Fill me—fuck.”
Moose's suddenly froze, and I knew he was ready. His head rolled back, and his mouth flew open. Then, his body convulsed, jerking, as he shot cum into the condom inside me.
I couldn't hold it and explode, leaving a trail of cum over his chest and abs.
"Ahh, fuck!" When my body started to calm, I opened my eyes to see the most handsome man I'd ever known. I couldn't believe how amazing Moose looked below me. Pulling off, I rolled over along his side, planting my face on his chest.
"Hey," Moose said softly, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my shoulder. "You okay?"
I smiled, pressing a kiss to his chest. "More than okay. I'm happy. Really, truly happy."
He hugged me tighter, dropping a kiss on the top of my head. "Me too, Finn. Me too."
"What are you thinking?" Moose murmured, his breath warm against my cheek.
I smiled, feeling a peace I'd never known before. "I'm thinking... I can't wait for next season."