22. CONNOR
TWENTY-TWO
CONNOR
Dragging myself away from Parker is next to impossible, but you know, hockey responsibilities and all that.
I go for my skate to keep warm for the home game tomorrow night, but as soon as I’m dressed and getting ready to head out, the thought of going home puts a pit of … blah in my stomach. It’s so big and empty. Maybe if I swing by Parker’s place, he’ll invite me up. He might still smell like us. Though, my bet is he showered as soon as I left because he seems to be particular when it comes to washing his hands and having good hygiene. If anything were to come of us, that might be an issue, considering how disgusting my pads and gear are after a game. Or a practice. Or, really, just going near it. After years of sweat stench, there’s no way you can get the smell out completely, no matter how many times you wash it. The franchise handles all that for us, but still. Hockey players are smelly.
It might be the deal breaker for him. Actually, anything could be a deal breaker for Parker. From seeing me as his high school bully to him being the team’s owner and essentially in charge of my career to me being completely inexperienced when it comes to being with a man, I’d say there’s no hope of this going anywhere.
I’m mostly okay with that. I think. I’ve never wanted more than a casual thing with anyone else, but there’s no denying that I’m eager to get back to his place.
I can’t get that blowjob out of my head. I want to know what it would be like to be in his position. Of course, I’d have no idea what I was doing, but that’s not going to hold me back. Jerking him off wasn’t any different than touching my own dick, but it’s not like I’ve ever sucked my own cock. I’m not that flexible. I wonder if goalies can do that. I should ask. No, wait, I shouldn’t. Not appropriate.
Though that does beg the question, is sucking your own cock considered gay? Jerking off isn’t, but is that, like, a line?
Easton taps my shoulder from the cubby beside me, and I jump. “Are you okay? I was saying your name, but you kept staring off into space. What are you thinking about?”
“Blowjobs.”
My brother looks at me as if I’ve grown two heads and then glances around the locker room.
Oh, right. In public and things.
My head’s not on right because of Parker. All I can think about is Parker. All I want to think about is Parker. When he said I should focus all my possessive energy somewhere else, I don’t think this is what he meant.
“From women,” I add louder. I dunno. Am I supposed to want to hide what I’ve been doing? Old Connor would be screaming yes. Fuck knows I gave Easton and Lachie enough shit about it.
“I’m worried about you,” Easton says.
“Hello, role reversal.”
“Right? I don’t like it. Stop making me care, damn you.”
I shake it off. “I’m fine. Just still … thinking about stuff.”
Easton leans against the edge of his cubby. “You know, Lachie’s home tomorrow night. It’s our first time playing our little brother.”
“Is that tomorrow? I’ve lost track of the games. I just know where to be and when. Haven’t really looked at the team’s schedules.”
“This is my point. You should be lecturing me about playing well but not making a fool out of Lachie either. He’s a rookie, and it’s two against one, and?—”
“Fuck that. He needs to learn, so I say we go as hard as we always do.”
Easton’s still staring at me weirdly when he blindly takes out his phone and hits a single button. He puts the phone to his ear, and I can hear the faint ringing and then my best friend’s voice as he says hello. “Connor’s broken. What time will you be home tomorrow?”
“Should be morning. How is he broken?” Knox’s voice is muffled but still loud enough for me to hear it.
“I think hooking up with you know who has made him … reckless.” He lowers his voice. “He’s talking about blowjobs and going hard against Lachie tomorrow night. I’m scared my big brother might … actually be cool.”
Knox laughs, and I can’t help it. So do I. If only I’d asked him the self-blowjob question. It’s probably lucky I didn’t. He might have collapsed.
“Tomorrow night after the game, all four of us should go out,” Knox says. “All my queer Kiki bros together.”
And that’s what makes old Connor reappear. Pointing out that all three of us Kikishkins aren’t straight. Am I queer? Turns out, yes, but I’m not comfortable with that label. I’ve been trying not to think about it because I know labels aren’t necessary, and it’s possible to change a lot. But the thing is, I do fit under the LGBTQIA umbrella, and so do my brothers.
I can only think of the bullshit the media will say when both Lachie and I come out.
Oh, look, carefree Connor is gone, and old Connor is back .
That didn’t last long.
I don’t end up going by Parker’s place on the way home, and for the entire next day and the game against Lachie, I’m spaced out. I’m letting St. Louis’ forwards get by me, allowing way too many chances for them to get shots on goal, and though I’m not the only D-man on that ice, our defense is struggling big time.
Can I claim I’m letting my littlest brother win because it’s the first time we’re facing each other in the NHL and it’s still early enough in the season that taking a loss won’t hit us too badly? I’m being a supportive brother! I’m only thinking about Lachie and wishing him all the success in his career. I’m definitely not thinking about how I want to get on my knees and suck my team owner’s dick.
For my whole life, hockey and everything that comes with it has been my focus.
Now I have something else, and I can’t seem to find that same need to make hockey my priority.
Okay, so it’s been one game, and that’s overly dramatic. I’m sure it’s only because it’s new. And because I’m worried about what the fallout might be. But if I learned anything from Easton over the summer, it’s that I need to stop caring about what other people think of me or what the media might say. The media that spreads hateful things about queer athletes will never see it from our point of view, so I need to stop thinking we have to cater to those toxic sectors.
Aww, my first thoughts of we and us when referring to queer people and spaces. I really am embracing this. Go me.
While I’m praising myself on how accepting I am of … myself, Lachie skates around me and scores.
Oops.
“Thanks, big bro.” He winks at me .
As tempting as it is to slam him into the boards to keep him in check, I’m too proud of him. He’s having a killer rookie season, but it’s a pity the rest of his team needs some work.
Yet, they’re still able to take out the win against us.
I can’t help thinking it’s my fault.
“Excited for where we’re going tonight?” Easton asks as we’re redressing into our game suits to head out.
“Where are we going? I thought it was going to be us and Knox hanging out?”
“Oh, we’ll be hanging out all right.”
I don’t like the way he says that. “You’re not taking me to some place where we’ll be naked and free-balling everywhere, are you? Because I might be discovering new things about me, but I can already say that would be a no.”
Easton clips me on the shoulder. “I do not need to see my two brothers’ hanging brain. We’re just going to a bar.”
Maybe I was reading into his tone earlier.
Except when we meet up with Lachie on our way out, he’s wearing a shit-eating grin. “Aww, did my big bwovers get their asses kicked by the littlest Kiki to ever Kiki?”
“We’re never going to hear the end of that, you know,” Easton says.
“I know. But it wasn’t my fault. I was distracted.”
“Distracted with what?” Lachie asks.
We reach the players’ exit and head out into the private parking lot, where Easton’s car is waiting with Knox already in the driver’s seat with the engine running.
“Probably the thoughts of blowjobs like he was at practice yesterday,” Easton says.
“Blowjobs are amazing,” Lachie says. “Giving or receiving.”
Easton and I put our gear bags in the trunk and share a look. Lachie doesn’t have his gear bag because it would’ve gone to his team’s bus and to their hotel.
Easton nudges me, encouraging me to spill about the newfound side of me that likes men, but I worry that if I do, Lachie’s going to complain about needing to stay in the closet longer because of the stupid plan that Mom, Dad, and I worked out. Three straight people—or assuming straight people—making plans for a schedule in which it would be okay to come out. Jesus Christ, what was wrong with me? How did I ever think that was okay?
Fuck it. We’re all on our own timelines now.
“About that,” I say and turn to Lachie. “I might have been distracted by thinking about giving a blowjob?” My voice squeaks at the end.
Lachie fights breaking out into a laugh. He manages to get himself under control before saying, “Interesting twist.”
Easton puts his hand on my shoulder. “Hence where we’re going tonight.”
Okay, this time, I definitely heard it again. The “I’m about to walk you into a lion’s den and love watching every minute” tone.
“Where’s that?” Lachie asks.
“Only the campiest gay bar in Denver.” Easton is way too excited about this, and as Lachie bounces on his feet, it’s obvious he is too.
I swallow hard. Easton’s going to push me into the deep end without a life jacket, and Lachie will be there to witness me drown.
Fun.