Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
[Image Description: Nick Tiernan and Matt Hudson in running clothes, mid-stride as they jog through a park. Both men are looking towards each other, talking while they run.]
@CalamityJanie: Obsessed with the idea that these two have become workout buddies. We love a celebrity bromance
As promised, the four members of Sticks+Stones arrive at the Lair the next morning, hockey bags in hand. Nick has to bribe the Zamboni guy, but it’s worth it to see their excitement.
Picard whoops when Spencer pulls out his full goalie pads, hurrying over to admire his mask.
It’s the one from his UMich days, decorated in yellow and blue with a roaring wolverine and a grim reaper swinging a hockey stick, emblazoned in skulls and music notes and exactly the kind of emo shit Nick would expect from a college-aged Spencer.
On the chin, the word Michigan stands out in bold lettering, and each “i” is dotted with a different heart: one that’s striped in pink, yellow and blue; the other striped in green, white, gray and black.
Nick has never been prouder of his teammates when not a single one of them tries to hide or act in any way different while getting dressed in front of three guys they know are attracted to men.
Casey is changing in the equipment room, of her own choice.
But the handful of teammates who agreed to this little adventure aren’t batting an eyelash, still doing exactly the same shit they’d be doing if it were just the team involved—right down to throwing dirty jocks across the room because Nick is surrounded by goddamn children.
Casey joins them once she’s fully dressed, and Nick studies her. She’s wearing her old Michigan Wolverines jersey, a beacon of bright yellow that he has to squint to look at head-on. “Good God, those jerseys are obnoxious,” he mutters, making her laugh.
“You get used to it.”
“Do you, or have you just told yourself that?” Nick shakes his head in dismay. “Gimme a second.”
He disappears into the equipment room, coming back with four silver practice jerseys. “Please, for the sake of my eyes, wear this.”
“Rude. That’s our college pride you’re pissing on.” She sticks her tongue out but strips off the highlighter-yellow jersey all the same. “I guess it’ll do.”
“Man, these are sick.” Spencer’s a lot more enthusiastic, tugging his over his head.
By the time they all skate out onto the ice, the four rockstars look like legitimate NHL players. Joel whoops as he races from one goal line to the other, while Spencer parks up next to Picard to join him in his warm-up, dropping into a split without hesitation. Fucking goalies.
Nick skates up beside Matt, twisting to skate backwards as he keeps pace. “So I realized I never actually asked,” he says, “which is shitty of me, but whatever. What position do you play?”
Matt’s loud laugh echoes through the rink. “Wow, narcissist much?” he jokes, reaching out to shove Nick’s shoulder. “Take a guess.”
Nick makes a show of eyeing Matt up and down, arms folded over his chest. The obvious answer hits him. “You’re a goddamn centerman, aren’t you?” The words come out exasperated, and Matt cocks his head. Nick huffs. “Don’t mind me, just realizing I have a type.”
Matt laughs so hard he almost trips, his brown eyes dancing. “Oh, stud, I could’ve told you that weeks ago,” he drawls.
“Fuck off.”
“Make me.”
With that challenge, Nick lunges for Matt, who immediately turns on his heel and sprints off down the ice.
They pass several bewildered, laughing teammates in their game of chase.
At some point someone tips out the bucket of pucks they brought with them, Matt scoops one up, and it becomes a game of keep-away instead.
Sunny steals it from Nick, and then Joel swipes it out from under Sunny’s nose, and Casey bodychecks her bandmate to claim the puck for herself, racing towards Spencer’s net.
The goalie settles in to guard his crease instinctively, dropping a knee to block Casey’s shot and cackling when it rebounds right onto Matt’s stick.
They don’t run drills, or work on skills, or do any of the things a normal practice would entail. They play stupid games and challenge each other to make increasingly ridiculous trick shots. At one point Marco starts up a game of Crack the Whip like they’re all eight years old again.
Matt whoops loudly as he scores against Spencer, letting himself slide all the way into the crease and knock the goalie into the net too. “Double goal!” he cheers, sending the rookies into childish giggles.
“Get off me, you freak,” Spencer groans, shoving at his friend. Matt laughs as he hauls himself to his feet, helping set the net to rights again. “Here I thought I was done playing hockey with you idiots.”
“Oh, sweetheart, you’re never done playing hockey with us idiots,” Casey calls in reply, skidding to a stop that throws snow all over the drummer.
She beams as he growls at her, and the next thing Nick knows, he’s watching a fully dressed goalie with his stick raised like a weapon going full-tilt across the ice, chasing after a cackling Casey.
“Man, Trix,” Moose says, skating slowly past Nick. “Your friends are fucking awesome.”
Nick grins proudly. Yeah, they’re pretty great.
“You’re welcome,” Marco declares, looking far too smug as he leans against the boards.
Nick cocks his head. “You never would have met them if it wasn’t for me.
So, you’re welcome. For everything.” Marco’s gaze moves pointedly to Matt, who’s now doing a mock face-off with Beau in which they both make the most ridiculous faces and whoever laughs loses the draw.
What an idiot. Nick’s heart is going to fucking burst just looking at him. God.
As Marco skates off to go heckle Hugsy, Duke skids to a gentle halt beside him, taking his helmet off and tucking it under his arm with a grin.
He leans in close to Nick, a conspiratorial expression on his face, so Nick leans in too.
“This is fun,” he murmurs, keeping half an eye on the shenanigans further up the ice.
“And, forgive me if it’s none of my business, but …
that band girl? The tall one?” He makes a strange gesture with his eyebrows, as if tall is not the word he’s actually using. “Are you and her…?”
It takes a beat too long for Nick to catch on. “I—What? No! We’re—Me and Casey are just friends.” It takes everything he has to keep a straight face. God, he’s so close, yet so wide off the mark.
“Oh. Okay. I thought… Never mind.” Duke shakes his head dismissively. “Well, if you were, you know we would be fine with that, right? And anyone who isn’t, me and the boys would make fine with it.”
Despite the urge to burst out laughing, Nick is strangely touched. “She’s awesome,” he agrees. “But she’s just a friend. I—Thank you, though. For the support.”
“You’re the best captain I’ve ever had.”
“You’ve only had one other captain.”
“Pah! Semantics,” Duke dismisses. “My point is, you are family, and if you want to date a girl who is … different, I’ll fight anyone who tries to stop you.
I know what it’s like to have people try to push you out of the game for no good reason.
” He gives Nick a pointed look, gesturing to himself—to his dark skin that is still uncommon in the NHL, even in this day and age.
Then he shoves his helmet back on his head, winking.
“So you know, if you ever need it, just say the word.”
Nick almost asks if that extends to him wanting to date a man, but now isn’t the time. In the middle of the rink, surrounded by half their team.
Biting his lip to hold back a sigh, Nick turns his attention back to Matt—the older man is oblivious to him, chasing after Moose to try and steal the puck, shouldering in on him with zero hesitation over the man’s height and NHL status.
It’s been a long time since Nick’s had this much fun on the ice, and he’s even more determined to do whatever it takes to make it always feel like this.
He’s got some phone calls to make.
It’s almost like the universe is on Nick’s side.
Two of their last away games of the season are at Anaheim and Los Angeles respectively, which gives him plenty of time to meet up with Sofia and Bianca.
After practice on the day in between games, Nick makes sure to take a little more care than usual styling his hair.
On his way out of the LA Monarchs’ guest locker room, Sunny scrambles to fall into step beside him. “Hey. You’re going to do that thing now, right?” he asks, a little breathless. “I thought about it and … I want in.”
Nick almost trips over his own feet. “Are you sure?” He’d only mentioned the plan to Sunny as an offhand thing, a ray of hope for the kid that things might be about to get easier for him and Mars. Sunny nods, jaw set in determination.
“I want to be part of this. To support Mars, and you. And … for myself. So if it’s still cool with you…”
“Yeah, absolutely,” Nick agrees quickly. “Man, the more the merrier, seriously. I just don’t wanna push you into something you’re not ready for.”
“I’m ready,” Sunny promises. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot.” He looks up and down the empty hallway, checking they’re truly alone, then leans in closer, eyes bright. “I’m pansexual, Nick,” he confesses, sounding so damn happy to be sharing that with someone. As he should be.
“Hell yeah you are,” Nick says, smacking a kiss to the taller man’s forehead. “Good for you, man. C’mon, if we’re late Sofia will murder me.”