The Price of Ice

Chapter 25

B rad had gone home for the day and Levy still wasn’t back, and Kallen was seriously considering reusing the water bottle. He’d miscalculated how much water he’d drunk, or maybe it’d been the smoothies with green tea Brad had made after his workout. A proper one where he’d lifted weights in the gym downstairs. After talking to his mother, it’d been work out or get drunk again.

The key in the lock made him straighten, body leaning forward on instinct. He pulled himself back, sighing. He wasn’t even that embarrassed anymore to ask for help getting on his chair. Brad had mentioned if they set up bars in the toilet, he wouldn’t even need help moving from the chair to the toilet seat. But Kallen had dismissed it, it felt too much like giving up.

And now...

Levy came straight to him, helping him without fuss. It didn’t make it hurt any less, what he’d lost. And it didn’t help that he knew he’d never had anything at all with Levy, that it had just been a bit of good fun between friends.

Afterwards, he was bracing himself to tell Levy what he’d done, but they barely made it to the kitchen when his friend said, “So, Benny talked to me today. He wanted to know why you weren’t coming to training and games.”

Kallen let go of the wheels. “What?”

Levy shook his head, turning around and leaning back on the edge of the counter, arms crossed over his own chest. “He said McKinley told them you had fucked up and no one was allowed to talk to you. Or to ask me.”

Kallen stared at him, heart battering his chest and mind flying in a hundred different directions. “I don’t...”

“I know,” his friend agreed. “It’s nuts, like... Everything about this is so fucked up. I tried not to talk about you to the team because...” He waved at Kallen’s body. “Well, it’s private, isn’t it? And I figured you’d tell them whatever you wanted. But, like, no one’s been talking to you?”

Kallen shook his head.

“Fuck,” Levy spat. “That’s so— I had no idea! You must have felt like shit. Even when I just hurt my elbow everyone kept checking on me. We are team . What the fuck does that even mean if—” He cut himself off, probably realising what it did mean. He was fighting it, Kallen could see that.

But he knew too.

I’m sorry, Kallen thought. It wasn’t his fault, but he was sorry Levy had lost this too.

He was glad Benny had defied the rules to ask after him, but it was only a small ray of sunlight in the darkness. Johnson could have come by; it wasn’t like McKinley had spies in the building, and Johnson knew what their captain had done to Kallen. Not all of it, but enough.

“What did you tell him?”

“Um,” Levy licked his lips. “That you were sick, but to write to you.”

Kallen patted his thigh, looking for his phone, and realised he’d left it charging on the coffee table. It didn’t matter, anyway. “I... I have something to tell you.”

Levy stepped forward, almost like he’d been holding himself back, and then surprised him by kneeling at his feet, hands on Kallen’s own dead knees, throat exposed as he looked up at him. “Okay.” His voice was thin, scared.

Kallen swallowed thickly. He didn’t want to cry again, even for a very different reason. “My mum’s coming. To get me.”

The fingers on his knees twitched. “Oh.”

His own hands were clenching on the arms of the chair, and then he exhaled and placed them on top of Levy’s, squeezing too hard, clinging.

Everything else in this place was wrong, had been wrong from the very beginning. But not Levy, not his warmth and not his kisses, not even the fact that he’d never tried to fuck Kallen. He’d have liked to have felt it again, to have remembered what it was like to be touched like he was a person in that most intimate way.

But how could they have made it clean in the middle of the mud Kallen was contracted to submerge himself into every month?

He’d wanted to keep the little he got to have with Levy as far away from the rest as possible, and somehow, even when Levy had been on his heat rota, he’d transformed it instead. Even when he hadn’t been, he’d transformed Kallen , taught him to find his own strength within.

Within, where it’d always been waiting for him to stop putting his body and heart through the grinder to prove he was as good as an alpha.

He wasn’t an alpha and he was never going to be.

And he wasn’t the omega the White Cats wanted either.

He had no idea if he could get back to the oasis. To love, because that’s what was inside, what he offered when he used lure.

What an alpha like Levy offered when he used his will to help Kallen cross the firepit of his own memory.

And wasn’t it stupid? That’s all he’d ever wanted, from his parents, and his team and the world. To be loved and accepted.

And he’d got it. Hadn’t he? He didn’t need words or promises or even another kiss. Not with the pain writ raw all over the alpha’s face. The alpha kneeling at his feet, just to be close, not thinking about what it implied. Not caring what anyone would have thought because real closeness couldn’t abide fixed hierarchies. Love didn’t follow rules like that.

Levy bent over, resting his forehead over their joined hands, curls tumbling forward onto Kallen’s lap. He nodded a little, clinging to Kallen’s hands, quiet and small, like he was keeping it all locked up tight.

Kallen tugged at his right hand and met resistance, but only for a moment. He placed it at the back of Levy’s neck once he could, right where he was bare and vulnerable, soft and open. “I’m sorry,” he told him, as honestly as he’d ever said anything.

And he was, for everything they’d had and lost, and for everything that couldn’t be now. Not for choosing himself, but because it meant he couldn’t choose Levy as well. And he wanted to, even with no more kisses, he wanted to be close, to laugh together, to find the light in every day and a way back from the darkness.

Levy lifted his face, eyes wet, but frowning. “No, you— I’m sorry. What the fuck is wrong with me, Kallen? With all of us? That we are letting this happen to you?”

“You are not,” Kallen said. “You’re trying to—”

“Trying is not doing ,” Levy cut in, and Kallen flinched as his hold on his legs tightened.

Levy’s eyes widened, anguish getting washed clean by pure shock. His eyes fell to his own hands, to Kallen’s thighs. And then he squeezed again, hard enough to hurt.

Kallen’s leg twitched, not quite a kick but definitely movement.

“I deserve a good kick,” Levy said, and squeezed the other side. Kallen didn’t think, he just did it. Kicked him, very lightly but with enough power Levy had to push to stay upright.

Levy laughed, breathing a little fast and looking up at him like Kallen was holding up the Cup. “Do it again.”

He did, feeling like he was half-dreaming it all. Except it was very real, and he could see it all unfolding just as clearly: standing up and calling Coach, telling him he was fine and would go back to training, and arriving on the arena, standing on the ice and... And looking his team in the face, looking McKinley in the face, because he would still be there.

Because his team had kept him even after what he’d done to Kallen.

And there was no question, simply an answer, and the answer was no. He wasn’t going back. He’d miss it dearly, the exhilarating magic of the ice, using the gift he’d been given and developed with hard satisfying work. But he couldn’t go back without leaving himself behind.

“I’m leaving,” he told Levy, himself, too.

Levy nodded, then stood up. “Kick me again.”

Kallen snorted, and did it, swinging both legs at once. The laughter exploded out of him, impossible in its joy. And Levy bent over and caught him by the ankles. “Gotcha.”

If only , Kallen thought, and then realised there was no point in not asking. “You do, if you want me.”

Levy’s throat worked visibly as he swallowed. “Oh. Like... really? Now?”

Kallen nodded. Of course, now, there wasn’t going to be a later. But now was his. Theirs .

Maybe it’d hurt all the more later if they did it, but it was going to hurt anyway. There was always going to be pain, all he could do was make sure he didn’t miss out on the pleasure when it was offered to him.

“Or we can make fajitas.” He said it matter-of-factly. It wasn’t his preference, but Levy should make his own choice freely.

His friend gently started lowering his legs to the floor, letting go when Kallen took over. He offered him both hands, palms up.

Kallen’s heart was doing its best to crash right through his ribcage, and he couldn’t have said if it was the fact that if he tried to stand up, he’d know. Or...

He took Levy’s hands, not looking away from his friend’s hazel eyes, as if they were weaving a spell together, making all this real by acting as if it was. Levy tugged and Kallen pushed and then his feet were past the footrests, on the floor, and a moment later his whole weight was on them. He stood there, pulse thundering and vision not quite focusing.

“Fuck fajitas,” Levy said, grinning.

Laughing meant he had to start breathing again, even if a little fast, and somehow they were advancing, Levy going backwards and Kallen following. His legs felt strange for a couple steps and then they were just his legs, working like they always had, and he realised he was standing in front of the man he loved and they were going to be together, once more.

Just once, so they had to make it count. He leaned over and planted a clumsy kiss on Levy’s lips, no patience. Not after so long, and it hadn’t even been a month, but it felt like so much longer. Levy’s lips parted in a gasp, but his hands were already on Kallen’s hips, bringing their bodies as Kallen backed him into the fridge. He pushed his thigh between the alpha’s, finding him half-hard already and broke the kiss to nuzzle at his ear and his cheek.

“God, I thought—” Levy whimpered as Kallen kissed his neck, fingers digging in the meat of Kallen’s arse to grind against him.

Touching an alpha’s throat like he was doing was completely forbidden, and he didn’t give a fuck. Not as long as Levy wasn’t complaining, shuddering hard as Kallen ran the flat of his tongue up the strong muscles of his neck, and leaning back against the fridge like he meant to become dinner himself. Just that had his own dick throbbing in his sweats, coming back to life with renewed vigour.

He'd wanted this, this heady power of making someone weak with pleasure. It’d just seemed too impossible to even fantasise about, but now... Now he was free; he was leaving and he was going to lose Levy whatever he did. So he might as well do this; what he wanted, what they wanted.

There could be no pretence in the way Levy’s knees were tightening around his own leg, his hips thrusting up, his neck thrown back. Kallen bit his lip, stilling himself, because he wanted to sink his teeth on that vulnerable flesh and that wasn’t allowed. He had no idea what effect it would have on an alpha, but... Biting was for mates, and he couldn’t offer that. And if there was one thing that he wouldn’t do was take what he couldn’t give himself; he’d been taken advantage of too often to ever risk becoming that kind of arsehole himself.

When he stepped back, Levy’s eyes blinked open, brow furrowed. “What...?”

“Let’s go to bed,” Kallen said. “I want to see you naked.”

The space seemed to bring Levy down a bit, because his smile was daring when he said, “Not if I see you first.” And yet, teasing words or not, he offered Kallen a hand.

“I’m okay,” Kallen said. “Really.”

“Cool, so hold my hand, you prat. I’m being romantic.”

The word hurt a little, like a shard left inside this moment by a future that wouldn’t be. Kallen took Levy’s hand anyway. He’d never been afraid of pain, and he most certainly wasn’t afraid of love. Levy squeezed his hand, grinning back a promise and Kallen would have pinned him again if he hadn’t started walking towards the bedroom, not looking back and not letting go.

Later it would cross his mind to wonder at how his legs had recovered so swiftly, not even complaining at suddenly being made use of again. Perhaps they’d been fine all along, waiting on Kallen’s head to get on with the program. Perhaps they’d been desperate to move, just like he’d been, even as he’d convinced himself there was nowhere safe to go. He probably owed a lot of it to Brad not letting him skip his stretches.

The moment they crossed the doorway, Levy turned to look at him, grinning, and Kallen couldn’t do anything but smile back, nervous and excited. He tugged on their joined hands as he threw himself backwards on the bed, suddenly weightless after being trapped for so long.

Levy stumbled on top of him, barely catching himself with his free hand to keep from crushing Kallen. “You are crazy.” But the way he was shaking his head was all admiration, eyes dancing with the same effervescent energy rushing through Kallen’s own veins.

“Yeah?” Kallen looked up at him from under his eyelashes, relishing every point of contact between them. Levy’s knees pressing to the outside of Kallen’s hips, their tangled hands, and his very fine arse snuggled against a part of Kallen that was very pleased to see him. He twitched his hips up, unthinking, and Levy’s eyelashes fluttered, before he dropped his gaze. “Clothes.” With that, he tugged his hand free of Kallen’s and reached for his shirt.

Kallen laughed, shoving him back. “Let me sit up first.”

They threw their clothes off the bed, or at least away from their bodies, tangling up as they gave into temptation again and again. Kallen leaned in and licked one of Levy’s nipples as it became exposed, and Levy reached out to run his thumb up the length of Kallen’s erection. Kallen keened and rolled into him to keep from going off right then and there, his jogging bottoms still hanging from one of his ankles.

Naked skin against his own felt even better than he remembered, warm and soft, except for the stubble on Levy’s cheeks and neck, which tingled as he licked him there again. Levy allowed it, rubbing his thigh between Kallen’s legs and kicking against his trousers in the most inefficient way possible. Kallen shoved up into it anyway. It hurt a little, too dry by half, but he couldn’t seem to stop. Not until Levy lifted his upper half out of reach and offered his right hand. Kallen sucked two fingers in at once, giving him a little teeth when he shuddered, his own erection thrusting erratically against Kallen’s belly.

“Hand,” Levy demanded, breathless. Kallen swallowed and then wet his palm. Levy sneaked it between their bodies to take hold of Kallen’s cock, wet and deliciously tight. So Kallen had to thrust, gasping a little as he clenched his hole hard on the upstroke.

“I—” He was tempted, so fucking tempted, but he stilled his lover with a hand on his forearm. Levy stopped but didn’t let go. He was watching Kallen’s face. “I want you to fuck me.”

He tried not to wince when Levy released his cock a little too fast. It didn’t hurt, except for how his touch felt so close to necessary right then.

It wasn’t, though. Kallen wasn’t in heat, and he didn’t need anyone, he just wanted Levy.

Levy, who was watching him, wide eyed, lips parted. Inexplicably silent.

Kallen sat up, suddenly very aware that he was naked and barely resisting the urge to cover himself. “Or like... I mean, you don’t have to.” He couldn’t seem to look up. Fuck, why had he said it? Everything had been going great, and it wasn’t like it was going to be an issue for long, was it? He could have just kept it to himself, enjoyed whatever Levy wanted to offer him. “We can—”

“You want to?” Levy’s voice was thin, scratchy even. If he’d heard it anywhere else, Kallen might not have recognised it at all.

“Yeah,” he said, eyes flittering from Levy’s compressed mouth to his eyes, full of pain . Something was very wrong here. “But only if you do,” he explained. He remembered Benny’s disinterest in him. “If you... I shouldn’t assume, sorry.”

Levy snorted. “Sorry? How can you be sorry? I’m the one...” He was already scrambling fully off Kallen, like he couldn’t even stand for their knees to be touching. He turned around, huffing and burying his hands on the back of his own head, pulling at his curls in a way that had to hurt. He walked all the way to the door, still wide open before he turned around to face him again, apparently unaware of his own nakedness. “Kallen...” He was pushing his own forearms against his temples, eyes wide and desperate. “You don’t remember, right?” He blinked fast, and even in the low light Kallen was certain he was holding back tears. “What I...” He cleared his throat almost violently. “What I did.”

He'd have liked to pretend he didn’t know what Levy was talking about, but he understood at once. “No.”

He didn’t remember, not anything specific anyway. All these months, he hadn’t allowed himself to look up his previous heat rotas, so all he was certain off was that McKinley had been in the first one. Not that he’d been able to extend his denial to the point where he hadn’t known that Levy had fucked him once, but... It hadn’t been the first heat, he was pretty sure, and his second with the team, fully knowing how terrible it would be, Kallen had drunk so much he’d managed to blank out the whole night.

“Oh.” Levy’s hands fell to his sides, shoulders slumping in defeat. “That makes sense.”

“I was scared,” Kallen said, and maybe it was obvious to everyone, but saying it was a relief anyway because back then he hadn’t allowed himself to be. And when he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it, he’d tried his best to drown those thoughts in alcohol. He’d only been legal for a few months when he’d started the job, and while he’d had the occasional beer, he’d never been drunk before. It’d been stupid and unhealthy, the opposite of what he wanted to do to the beautiful machine that was his body. “So I drank.”

But none of that had mattered when the price of ice had turned out to be his body and he’d realised the only way he could bear it was if they didn’t also get his soul.

They could do whatever they wanted to his body, he’d decided, but he wouldn’t be there.

“ I remember,” Levy said. He was still standing by the door, the curve of his bare back the portrayal of dejection.

Kallen wasn’t sure he could take it if he was refused, but he couldn’t take seeing him like that, the joy drained out of him, a weight so heavy even his powerful shoulders couldn’t withstand it. “Can you come sit with me?”

He got off the bed so he could free the duvet, then sat back down and covered his own lap. Not that there was much to hide, there was nothing arousing about this.

Levy wavered, then took a hesitant step towards the bed, and another. He paused at the foot of it, eyeing Kallen like he was about to jump him, and not in a fun way.

Kallen patted the top of the duvet.

“I guess I should be close, if you wanna...” He sat at the very edge, body half turned away, but he looked up. “Punch me or something.”

“Tell me,” Kallen said, looking him straight in the eye.

Levy looked away at once, throat working. “You were... You were really out of it. Heat, and drunk. I think... I’ve read that alcohol can slow down your metabolism so heat actually lasts longer. And it looked that way. I mean, compared to last time.”

Kallen groaned, annoyed at himself. It was completely obvious once you thought about it. He didn’t remember any of it, but the idea that he’d put himself through a worse hell than usual made his fists clench.

“No one could blame you,” Levy told him at once, earnestly meeting his eyes. “What you had to get through...” He shook his head. The protective anger was familiar, but then Levy continued, “I don’t think you even knew where you were, you were that far gone. You reacted when— when I touched you. But... But that doesn’t mean anything. And I knew it, I really did. You couldn’t have used lure, or... Fuck, I don’t think you asked for anything at all, that night.”

It sounded about right. He wouldn’t even have known he was allowed, and he probably hadn’t even known what he needed. He wasn’t all that sure now—all he knew was what he didn’t need and even that had taken him this long to figure out.

“I knew it was fucked up. And I could have controlled myself. I proved that, didn’t I?” he asked bitterly. “But...” Kallen couldn’t look at him, but he could feel how stiff he was, like he had a sensor finely tuned to the alpha’s body. Of course he did, he had to, to stay safe. “Hirst was there, and he... I was— afraid . So fucking afraid of disappointing him of all things. Like— Like it fucking mattered .” By then, Levy was fully bent over his own lap, elbows on his knees, fisted hands against his forehead. “So, I did it. I... I raped you.”

The words were only a whisper, but the moment they were out, a sob followed, high and harsh and heart-breaking.

Kallen’s own heart was racing, and he was breathing too fast. He was sweating too. He glanced down at his own hands, realising they were twitching over the blankets. Because he wanted to reach out. And that was insane, he was pretty sure. Levy had just admitted he’d...

Except Kallen had been raped, by McKinley if no one else. And he remembered the drowning shame of it all too vividly, clogging and full of hatred towards himself—even now with the small comfort of knowing he’d never allow it again, the thought twisted something in him.

Levy’s story didn’t feel like that. Levy’s story made him... sad. Levy’s shaking shoulders made him ache, deep inside, with compassion. And it should have made no sense, except for how even in the story Levy had done the wrong thing without wanting to do it.

Hadn’t Kallen done exactly the same when he’d walked into that heat room month after month?

Every single alpha in the team was responsible... But so was Kallen. At least for the parts he’d agreed to by contract, and in some way even to the worse stuff that wasn’t supposed to happen, but he kept allowing Management to sweep under the carpet. It wasn’t his fault , this fucked up society and the twisting distortion they’d made of his phenotype and of the game he loved. Of him .

But no one had made him agree to sell himself for the price of hockey. His dad had trained him for it and minimised what it would mean to be a team omega, but his mother had warned him off, too.

Kallen had chosen.

He’d made a fucked-up choice, and he’d kept on making it.

And he wasn’t sure how he was going to forgive himself for any of it. But it wasn’t that hard to reach out and put his hand on Levy’s shoulder, barely resting it there, to crawl closer and put his other arm around the alpha’s waist, clinging hard when Levy jolted against him.

“Shh,” he whispered. Levy was shaking all over, gasping like he was drowning in dry land. “You fucked up,” Kallen told him, his voice almost distant. “I know. But you didn’t do that. You didn’t rape me.”

Levy tensed up in his arms, almost as if he wanted to get away. Kallen clung on, teeth gritted, because this wasn’t the time to let go, and if the alpha wanted to get away, he could, but Kallen wasn’t going to make it easy.

It was his choice, whether to forgive Levy. And he wasn’t going to give that up so Levy could torture himself.

“Kallen,” his friend said, almost begging. He’d slumped again and he was sniffing but no longer crying.

“You did not rape me,” Kallen said again. “Do you hear me? I signed a contract saying you could fuck me, and I walked in there with my own two feet. I knew . It was my choice.”

Some of that must have penetrated because Levy moved but only to twist his neck towards him. Kallen loosened his hold to allow it.

Levy wiped at his face, but his eyes were reddened, eyelashes stuck together with tears, and he was frowning. “But... they wouldn’t let you play if you didn’t.”

“No,” Kallen agreed and finally let go of him completely to grab his own hands. “But I don’t need to play to live. I can—” He swallowed but forced the words out. They hurt no less this time than when he’d admitted it to Brad, but they were still true. “I can live without hockey.”

Levy was watching him with wide, scared eyes. He didn’t know , Kallen realised. He didn’t know he could live without hockey. Maybe he couldn’t. Who the fuck was Kallen to say? But that didn’t matter, because if he thought he couldn’t, that meant he was trapped. As stuck in the system as Kallen had been all this time.

He’d never asked for this story. Because he hadn’t needed it. He’d always known Levy didn’t want to have sex with him except to give him pleasure. That’s why Kallen had wanted him.

Levy wouldn’t want to have sex with any other team omega either, not under a contract that allowed the kind of violence it did—at least in practice.

But he’d do it, if he thought it was the price of ice.

He sighed, rubbing at his eyes where he could feel a headache building. He wanted to tell Levy, except what could words convey that his actions wouldn’t? All they seemed to do was muddle things up. If he’d just kept kissing his lover, by now they’d be cuddled together in post-coital bliss instead of having this super awkward conversation.

“Sorry,” Levy mumbled and Kallen caught his mouth twisting to the side when he looked. “This was supposed to be a celebration, and I... Didn’t mean to be such a downer.”

Kallen smacked him a little too hard on the bare skin of his shoulder.

“Hey!” Levy flinched away. “What’s that for?”

“You are allowed feelings.” Kallen leaned over the side of the bed, smiling at his body’s responsiveness. He fetched his boxers from the mess and swung his legs to the side to put them on.

He picked up his shirt next but paused when he caught sight of Levy still sitting in the corner of the bed, watching him. Had he read this wrong? Because it hadn’t seemed like there was any way to turn it back around and he’d been getting cold.

“You really don’t... You are not angry.” It wasn’t technically a question by the smallest of margins.

“Not with you.” He got his head past the t-shirt neck. “You bought their bullshit just like I did, and you didn’t like it either. It would be a little hypocritical if I was mad at you and not myself." He paused. “Well, actually I’m still pretty pissed at me. Guess I like you better.”

Levy shook his head at him, but he was going soft in that way he did when he saw Kallen, as if despite his better judgement. “I like you better too.”

And for a moment, Kallen looked back and wondered. Then Levy reached for his own clothing and the moment was gone.