The Price of Ice

Chapter 12

I t would have been easier if his father had been an arsehole. But he wasn’t, he was just a guy. A guy who made great pancakes and put way more cheese on pizza that was healthy and woke them up singing for school every morning. A guy who loved hockey with all his soul.

Who’d shared that love with Kallen.

And he’d spent Kallen’s entire childhood pretending being an omega was irrelevant. Kallen had believed him, of course. He’d wanted to believe him more than anything and if his dad said something was true, then it had to be, right?

He wasn’t sure how long he could have kept living in that make-believe world, but the thing about his dad’s delusion was that it led him to sign all his kids up for hockey. He’d loved it since he’d been a child himself and even though his knee wouldn’t have held up in the Premier League, he was still good enough that he was sought after as a coach. And the truth was that Kallen was grateful for it all, that he’d loved it and to share it with his sons. He also would have bet his right hand that his dad hadn’t for a moment considered what the sport would be like for two betas and an omega.

His brothers had got the message that they wouldn’t make it far since there were about three beta players in the whole of the Premier Hockey League, but Kallen had stood out for his talent even at nine. So Paul had quit at fourteen and Mikey at fifteen and it’d been fine. They’d still come to his games and helped him practise shots at the end of the cul-de-sac nearest to their house.

If his coach treated him differently, it’d seemed only natural when he was by far the best player in the team. He’d tried not to let it go to his head, and at twelve he’d get more goals but no more minutes than anyone else, so his teammates could more or less pretend he wasn’t such a big deal.

His father wouldn’t pretend, though, always happy to praise him even as he pushed him to keep sharpening his skills. Paul and Mikey must have felt that, he thought now. But maybe they felt protective of him because they’d never given any sign that they were jealous of all the time their father spent with Kallen. And Kallen had soaked up every minute of it like it was sunlight, almost better than hockey itself.

And then his father had missed a game for work and someone on the opposite team had called Kallen a ‘come dumpster’. He’d been so shocked that he’d let them take the puck from him, and Coach had had to shout at him to move. They’d lost the game, and sitting on the bench watching the rest of his team fail to score, he’d known it was his fault.

He’d showered and got dressed in his lucky hoodie and tried to put it out of his mind, but by the time his teammate’s mum had dropped him off at home, he’d been a mess.

His mother had held him as he cried, rocking him like he was a baby, but she hadn’t managed to make him tell her what had happened. Only when his dad had got home and asked her to let them have a moment, had Kallen being able to admit to the slur. His face had been burning and he’d felt like he was seconds away from throwing up from shame. All he’d wanted was for his dad to tell him it wasn’t true. He had kept his eyes on the ground, as if part of him had sensed the danger that lurked on his father’s face.

He'd known it was true, he’d been a die-hard fan of the Hawks for years and it was impossible not to pick up that his favourite player, their omega goalie, was regularly absent. They’d taught them about heats in school and how omegas bodies worked, and he’d heard and read the comments people made about Nikki Trums and his alpha teammates. The previous season, there had been huge congratulatory signs in the back of the stadium when Nikki had had a baby for their team captain.

He’d known .

But his dad had told him that he was safe, that he could play and that was all that mattered.

“God,” his dad spat, and it sounded like a swear word. “You’re—” He cut himself off, and reached for Kallen’s shoulder, squeezing hard. That was familiar enough that Kallen looked at him. His face was distorted with anger. “That kid was a twat, Kallen, nothing to do with you. You can’t listen to that bullshit. Can’t let it distract you from the game.”

“But...”

“No buts,” his dad had insisted, eyes bright and mouth hard. “You are the best player in your team, and anyone who needs to call you names is because he can’t play worth shit. What matters more, words or goals?”

He hesitated, but he said what his dad wanted him to, “Goals.”

“Exactly!” His dad clapped him on the shoulder, a little too hard, and stood up. “Come up, wash your face, your mum made ribs for dinner.”

NEXT TIME.

The words were like an amulet he was carrying around under his clothes along with the marks of Levy’s fingernails and mouth. He’d seen them in the mirror of Levy’s bathroom that morning when he’d dragged himself out of the shower, sleep deprived and loopy and not giving a fuck about any of it. He knew the teeth marks would fade and yet... They felt like proof. That he hadn’t imagined the sex, or Levy leading him to bed afterwards, or lying there in the dark with Levy’s fingers in his hair.

They hadn’t spoken about the trip, or what would happen while Kallen was away. Levy hadn’t even brought up the lure thing, which had taken a distinctly unreal air in the light of day.

Kallen didn’t care. Maybe he’d used some sort of secret omega power, or maybe Levy just wanted to kiss him and he’d taken the chance. He’d done it anyway and he’d done it again and again afterwards when Kallen had been too distracted to speak, let alone become a metaphorical oasis. And he’d held him close afterwards, whispering about how it felt to touch and be touched, not letting the outside world intrude upon those few hours.

So today Kallen could show up at the airport for his work trip in the full knowledge that he was going to let other alphas fuck him in a few days and not feel empty. It wasn’t like he was looking forward to the febrile desire of heat, but he could put it off for now, just recline on his seat and revisit the sweetness of his memories.

Benny dropped on the seat next to him halfway through the trip, and Kallen opened his eyes. “You resting?”

He wasn’t about to share that he’d been picturing the way it’d felt to roll out of bed that morning, away from the warmth of Levy’s body and yet close to bursting with joy when the alpha had groaned and complained he couldn’t go yet.

“Yeah,” he lied. “What’s up?”

They’d talked hockey, and then the goalie had shared a funny commercial on his tablet. Kallen had gone along with it, too relaxed to think to question the friendliness. It wasn’t that weird, really, team dynamics were ever-shifting. Maybe Benny had argued with whoever he usually spent time with? Kallen realised he had no idea who that was, which wasn't great. It was part of his job as team omega to make sure everyone else was getting along, after all.

Everyone expected him to just know how to do all that social stuff, and no one had ever bothered to explain how . Maybe there was something in him that didn't quite work. Or maybe it was like the lure thing, and he just needed a bit of guidance.

He thought about it for a moment, then relaxed his shoulders and tried to find the oasis. It didn't quite click, but it must have done something because Benny was looking at him, screen forgotten.

"Is everything alright, with Vandy and the guys?" Kallen asked.

Benny nodded, looking a little dazed. Was he coming on too strong?

"So you're just keeping me company?" he tried to tease. It felt a little odd, he didn't really know the other man that well.

"Yeah, um, well..." The alpha's eyes fell and if his skin hadn't been too dark for it, Kallen thought he might have been blushing. "Can I...?" His gaze flickered to the side as if checking if anyone was listening in, and then his voice fell to a whisper. "Can I talk to you about... heat?"

Kallen's stomach fell. Screw him, of course this was about heat. The oasis rushed out of him like someone had dropped a bomb on it. He should have fucking looked at the heat rota, he thought viciously.

Benny must have sensed it because he straightened, eyes widening. "It's not—" He bit his lip. "It's not anything bad, I promise." Kallen didn't speak or look at him. He had way too much experience with alphas to take him at his word, but he was also stuck in the window seat. "I've never done it, I've never... been with an omega."

That information was enough to make him look. Benny was hunched over, as if he thought he could hide his massive frame. As if he felt he needed to hide. "Really?" Kallen blurted out. "I mean..."

"Yeah," Benny muttered, so low it was barely audible.

"Okay, it's... it's okay," Kallen told him. It was actually very strange. Even if apparently, they hadn't slept together before, he'd have expected Benny to have slept with an omega at his age. Some people still made a big deal about virginity, but most omegas found ways around it. "Um, do you mean you haven't during heat, or at all?"

Benny shook his head, which wasn't strictly speaking an answer, but Kallen got the picture anyway. It was still some surrealist landscape he couldn't parse, but he got it. "Well, it's not... I think you just let it happen?"

It was probably terrible advice for an alpha, but it was all he could think of. Instinct was meant to take over and make it all happen, wasn't it? Only of course that often had seemed to translate into alphas doing whatever they wanted. "Or, well, not really, you— you have to take your cue from me." Even saying that much sent his heart racing. It wasn’t a lie, in fact, it was exactly what was supposed to happen, but... Alphas didn’t do it. Maybe they were too overcome by their instincts, except for how Levy had just spent a heat with him and not touched him sexually at all and now Kallen knew for a fact that he wanted to.

In some way, it must have been the right thing to say, because Benny was meeting his eyes again. "Like, ask what you need?"

"Yeah!" Kallen said, a little too loud, glancing around nervously. But no one seemed to notice his outburst.

Benny nodded slowly. "Makes sense, we're there to help you, right?"

They were, or at least they were meant to be. “Yeah, exactly.”

Now Kallen really needed to look at that email and find out who the other two alphas were.

READING THEIR NAMES didn't actually help much. O'Malley was loud in the locker room, always joking, and he was a solid left-winger on the ice. But other than the obligatory rookie-teasing, Kallen hadn't spoken to him much. On the ice, they got on fine on the rare occasions when Kallen was asked to centre the line. O'Malley had a girlfriend but wasn't bonded, he'd been groaning about his days of freedom coming to an end now that she'd caught a bouquet at a wedding.

It wasn't exactly promising, but the last thing he needed was to get any ideas. At least O'Malley was getting some on the regular, he supposed.

The other man on his list was Kennington, who’d won the Cup in his rookie season and therefore was already a champion at twenty-two. He was always holding other alphas' gazes a bit too long, as if trying to start shit, which Kallen honestly thought was insecure as fuck. The veterans just rolled their eyes at his antics, at most gave him a noogie.

But what would O'Malley do? Kallen couldn't see who'd thought this heat rota full of young and inexperienced guys made sense.

At the same time, there was absolutely nothing he could do about it now, except get off the plane and head straight to the arena for warm-up.

THEIR GAME WENT ON forever, dragging into overtime and nearly into a second one when it seemed like the Cats would even the score. They hadn't, and Kallen had tried not to feel guilty at the mix of disappointment and relief. He was exhausted after playing more minutes than he ever had in a single game and although he wasn't the best scorer in the team, he might have been called up to shoot if they had gone into another overtime just to give him the chance to experience the pressure.

The combination of the journey and the loss also meant they all headed back to the hotel, no question of going out to a club or even a restaurant. The Ice Cap had given them a short speech in the locker room, insisting that they'd been so close and he wanted the same energy but more for the upcoming games. It wasn't poetry, but it did the trick.

Kallen just wanted a hot shower and some room service and— To call Levy, he realised.

By the time he dropped down on the bed and called for food, he'd gone back and forth half a dozen times with himself about whether it was okay to reach out. Next time had been echoing in his head, but the more he thought about it, the less sure he was that he knew what it meant. They'd had sex, or well, Levy had sucked him off and later they'd rubbed off together in the bed. And then they'd slept tangled together, and Levy had—

There were already thirteen messages on his phone. Eleven were from Levy, who'd apparently watched the game and messaged Kallen every thought that had crossed his mind as he did. He laughed as he read, mostly agreeing, except for how Levy hadn't seen the size of the defender that had made Kallen swerve a little too far and lose the puck halfway through the game. He didn't regret having kept all his limbs.

And then the final text just made him smile.

[Tough game, but beautiful assist 3 STRENGTH EMOJI]

He reacted to it with a heart of his own, then nearly took it back before deciding that there could be nothing wrong in responding with the very same symbol.

Levy started writing a message at once, like he'd been waiting.

[You back in your room?]

It sent Kallen's mind straight to the gutter, but he just replied, [Yeah, waiting for food.]

[You got time for an appetizer? EGGPLANT EMOJI]

He laughed aloud, covering his face and trying to resist the urge to— Except why the fuck did he need to resist? He hit the camera button, and it felt a little magical when nearly at once Levy's face formed on the tiny screen.

"This way you can't use emojis," Kallen said instead of a greeting.

Levy snorted and raised an eyebrow. "Wanna bet I can do worse?"

"No," Kallen told him, because he was sensible and he knew how easy it was to send an alpha into suicidal territory with a bet. "I want my appetizer."

The humour washed out of Levy's face, replaced with an intensity that he could feel even at a distance.

Kallen swallowed, suddenly nervous, like he’d accidentally wandered into a room with a tiger. A beautiful specimen of nature he couldn’t look away from, and who could have him for dinner.

But Levy’s smile softened a little, still teasing but no longer dangerous. “Take off your clothes?” It was genuinely a question, too. “I didn’t get to look at you properly last time,” Levy went on, apparently completely unembarrassed. “Like, it feels like I have spent months not looking,” he admitted.

Kallen laughed, knowing exactly how he felt. In a surge of boldness, he propped the phone on the bedside table and stood up, dropping both his dress trousers and boxers to the floor. Levy had definitely seen that much when he’d blown him, but he still whistled appreciatively. Kallen kept his attention on his shirt buttons until he was done, then shifted his shoulders and let it slide down his back to join the rest of it, standing completely bare in front of the screen.

Levy was staring, mouth half open. Except he wasn’t still, not quite. He was still dressed, or at least he was wearing a shirt. The way Levy had placed the phone, he could only see his top half.

“Are you touching yourself?” Kallen guessed.

“You wanna see?” He sounded amused and completely shameless.

And Kallen wasn’t an alpha, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t healthily competitive, and it was impossible to miss the dare in Levy’s dark eyes.

“Show me,” he said, and found himself falling into that calm space he’d called the oasis.

It couldn’t possibly do anything at this distance, or at least Kallen assumed pheromones were required for whatever weird magic to take place, it was just how he felt right then. Easy, and open, and brave. But maybe Levy could see something of it in his face, because he readily surrendered, scooting back on his own bed until Kallen could see he was in just his boxers, which were looking quite tight at the moment. Kallen’s mouth watered. Fuck, why hadn’t he returned the favour when he’d had the chance?

“Show me,” he repeated.

Levy stretched dramatically as he took off his shirt, and even knowing he was going slow because of his elbow didn’t detract from the beauty of his muscles shifting under his golden skin. When he came out of the other side with a shit-eating smirk, Kallen was already giving him a quelling look.

“Like what you see?” Levy teased, leaning back and spreading his legs, good arm tucked behind his head like he had all the time in the world.

Kallen could have reminded him they didn’t, but instead he narrowed his eyes and rolled his shoulders back, twisting his neck as if he needed to stretch and exposing his throat.

Levy hissed, then laughed. “You dick!”

“ Your dick,” Kallen corrected, fully knowing it was childish.

Levy sighed. “Do you still have—?” he cut himself off and lifted his arse to pull off his underwear at last, leaving his cock bouncing a little as he settled back down. It was dark and hard, thick enough Kallen could imagine struggling to get his lips around it.

Unable to look away as he was, he adjusted the phone, only then scrambling to sit down on his bed before he had an accident. “Wait, do I still have what?”

“It’s nothing—” Levy said at once, and squeezed the base of his cock, which was extremely distracting.

Even more distracting was the knock on the door. Kallen cursed under his breath. “Gimme a minute.”

He got them to leave the tray on the floor, wrapped himself in a towel to grab it, and promptly abandoned it on the side table to get back to bed.

Levy was still there, thank God, teasing himself, lazy and unbothered. Kallen swallowed hard, then he said, “Stop.”

His friend startled a little, but the look he shot Kallen wasn’t just surprised. “What?”

“You can ask me, I won’t... I don’t know, I won’t think it’s weird or whatever. I think...” He felt his face warming up but pushed through. “I think you are hot, and funny, so...”

Levy’s mouth curved a little upwards, dimpling on the right like it did when he was pleased. His hand had stilled on his lap, now he pulled it up to scratch at his stomach. “Hot and funny?” he asked gently, and Kallen was so taken with his eyes he forgot to look anywhere else.

“I’m not saying it again.”

“Okay,” Levy huffed, but he was still smiling a little, like he couldn’t quite help it. “I was wondering if you still had the marks, from...”

“Oh.” Kallen’s stomach had either teleported out of his body or he’d swallowed a fuckload of air. “Um.” He glanced down at his own body, even though he’d seen them in the shower that morning.

They probably weren’t dark enough to show on the phone’s camera.

“Yeah,” he settled for.

He couldn’t have looked up for all the hockey cups in the world. Not until Levy said, silky and intimate, “ Good .”

And then he could do nothing but look up, meet his eyes and see the softness right there. Something he’d never seen on anyone’s eyes before and that right that moment felt like he couldn’t lose ever again.

“Guess I don’t need to leave any today then,” Levy joked.

Kallen huffed a laugh, half relief, half delight. “Guess you don’t. You gonna show me how you like it? For next time,” he added, feeling like he was jumping off a cliff by echoing those words he’d been treasuring since the previous evening.

“Only if you show me too,” the alpha stipulated, but he immediately licked his right palm, slow and generous, visibly poking his tongue between his fingers in a way that left Kallen regretting he hadn’t watched him perform that blowjob.

Next time , he reminded himself, then promptly got distracted as Levy’s hand came down to play with the head of his dick, collecting precome and then travelling down its considerable length barely squeezing. He groaned, eyelashes fluttering as he let his head fall backwards onto the pillows. The long line of his throat strong with muscle and completely vulnerable at the same time.

Kallen’s dick throbbed, and he put a hand on himself, just a squeeze really, and didn’t look away.

“Hey!” Levy wasn’t as distracted as he appeared because he opened his eyes fully to glare at him, “I can’t see like that.”

Kallen laughed, and tilted his pelvis, spreading in a way he hoped would show everything between his legs—from his shaven sack to his hole, already a little wet even.

Levy cursed on the screen, fingers clenching hard around the base of his cock. “ God ,” he lamented, and then, just like that, he was pulling hard, shoving his reddened erection through his fingers fast and brutal.

Kallen’s own hand mirrored the movement, but it was too dry. Of course, as an omega, that was hardly a problem. He simply reached down and rubbed at his hole, groaning as his fingers dipped into the wetness there.

“ Fuckkk ,” Levy hissed, and his eyes were open, hazel practically all gone. The moment their eyes met, Kallen saw them widen as Levy’s whole body seized and shot pearly strips of come all over his belly and chest. Kallen’s hand was back on his own cock, but he squeezed instead of jerking it, too fascinated to look away.

Levy looked positively pornographic.

His eyes were closed, his chest heaving, and he was a mess Kallen wanted to lick from pelvis to mouth, clean him up and swallow every drop.

Shifting his hand over his own cock was unconscious, but once he started spreading his own slick all over himself, he couldn’t stop. He’d hardly touched himself, but he was more than halfway there from the show, and the sounds he was making as he wanked, obscenely loud in the empty hotel room, were making him flush and squirm.

Then Levy opened his eyes again and fixed his gaze right on his crotch. “God, I want to swallow you whole ,” he told Kallen in a rough whisper. And it was nearly as good as when he’d actually done it.

Kallen whimpered, speeding up and scrunching his own eyes shut, turning his face to the side as if he could hide anything when he was broadcasting this in full technicolour.

“Look at me.” The words were gentle, closer to desperate than demanding.

And Kallen didn’t hesitate to obey them.

“You are the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” Levy told him, intense and true and not even blinking, and Kallen erupted all over his own hand. He closed his eyes on reflex, stripping himself to keep going, but he managed to open them again with a struggle, wanting...

Levy was still looking at him, biting his bottom lip and leaning forward a little like he was about to make a leap for the screen.

Kallen’s orgasm seemed to rise again under the attention, but it fizzled off in the end, leaving him a panting mess, head still turned to the side to keep the phone in his line of sight.

“Get yourself cleaned up,” Levy told him after a few minutes. “You have an early morning.”

“Wait!” Kallen stopped, not sure what he wanted. Only... “Give me a minute, just...”

He didn’t specify, but Levy made a noise of agreement, then huffed as he got up on the other side of the connection.

Once they were both as clean as they were going to get without a shower, Kallen set the phone on the opposite pillow, blinking his eyes open for a last look. “G’night,” he mumbled, and Levy’s answer was soft and fond in turn.

“Sleep well, Kallen, and slay them for me tomorrow.”

He was almost too knackered to laugh, but he managed a little huff before the call disconnected.