Thirty-Five
ZAK
Three months later
I carefully wrap the shirt in tissue and then the paper covering, making sure it’s completely secured inside.
With a little ‘thank you’ sticker to hold the ends together, I then push the whole thing into one of the purple plastic shipping bags with the other two shirts and skirt.
Double checking the order, I sign a personalized flourish of my signature and a ‘thank you’ before stuffing it inside the pack and sealing it.
Personal touches matter. I wrap the whole package with clear packing tape, making sure there aren’t any cracks to let dirt in, and then stick the shipping label on top before adding a ‘Zak’s Closet’ sticker too.
Holding it up, I examine the packaging. Satisfied, I bring it into the living room and stack it on the mountain that’s taking up our coffee table.
Zak’s been busy. While he spent some time working with some commission design ideas—all hockey players or their partners, I might add—he’s been working hard on whatever inspires him.
Gravity and Clarinda drop off clothes all the time.
Edgar comes through with different fabrics.
I’m not sure where any of them get this stuff and I don’t ask.
Whatever keeps that smile on Zak’s face is what matters to me.
Seeing his confidence grow has been one of the best things in my entire life.
I used to think that winning the Stanley Cup would be my biggest accomplishment.
Nothing could top that. But seeing Zak shine and grow has been my sole reason for existing these past few months.
Zak looks up from where he’s adding his ‘Zak’s Closet’ tags to the pile of tops he finished last night. I have three more orders to pack while he arranges each of these shirts on the mannequin top and takes pictures for his website and ShareIt account.
He smiles at me. “Thanks for helping me.”
“There isn’t anything I’d rather be doing.”
Zak rolls his eyes. “I’m sure there are a lot of things you’d rather be doing.”
Since he doesn’t have anything in the machine right now, I pull his chair away and bring him to his feet.
He’s smiling as he wraps his arms around my neck.
I still love kissing this man. As much as I enjoy being inside him, I could spend days just kissing him.
Tasting the sunshine that he is. Every second we can spare, I’m kissing this man of mine.
“I promise you, there isn’t. I love watching you work on something you love.”
He sighs. “Thank you for this,” he whispers.
“Packing orders isn’t difficult,” I assure him. “As long as you don’t try to get me to design something, we’re good.”
His smile flickers, but he shakes his head. “No. I mean… for this. For everything. For wanting me so much that you chased me down. For seeing the truth of my situation and wanting me, anyway. For loving me and making me believe I can have the stars.”
I sigh, pressing my forehead to his. We’ve had a conversation about this a few times.
I try to make him understand that him being homeless shouldn’t be something he was embarrassed about.
He was dealt a shitty hand and struggled to get out of the cycle that kept him there.
His truth wasn’t anything to be ashamed of.
Telling someone that and them believing it are very different things.
Especially when he’s been walked out on so many times.
Which isn’t really the case. Zak knows his mother didn’t leave him by choice.
But to a kid, suddenly being left alone in the world to fight on your own, it’s hard to see it any other way.
The parents that came after that, though?
He hasn’t given me their names, which might be wise.
I’d really love to track them down and tie them to the ice for the Zamboni to smooth out their rough surfaces.
Fuckers. What the hell were they thinking by walking out on a fourteen-year-old?
! Never mind his age, but someone who had already fucking lost his mother!
Why not just bring him to child services?
That might not necessarily have been a happily ever after for him, but it wouldn’t have been the complete and total abandonment of a child .
Then again, it might have been just as bad.
Maybe worse. I’ve debated this internally many times.
They didn’t come home one day. That’s it.
But if they’d actually brought him to child services or had them come get him, then Zak would have been looking in their faces as they basically said they didn’t want him.
Perhaps that would have been more damaging.
I take a breath and push all those thoughts aside. “You can have the stars,” I tell Zak. “Every last one of them.”
“And Saturn’s rings?” he asks, a playful smile dancing on his pretty lips.
“I’m still trying to wrangle Saturn from NASA, but I’m working on it.”
He laughs, letting his head fall back. His neck on display is far too much a temptation for me to look away from, so I lean forward and kiss it. Dragging my tongue along his slender neck and smooth skin. Zak sighs.
“Let me finish these and then we can stop for the day,” he says. “I promise.”
“What do you have in mind after that?” I ask, still licking his neck lazily.
“Well, I’m thinking that maybe I can suck your cock?” he asks.
Contrary to what he claims, he sucks my dick quite regularly. I huff. “Or I can suck yours.”
“Let’s do it my way first.”
“My sweet BJ slut,” I hum against his skin, making him laugh.
Zak sighs. “I’m not looking forward to next month,” he says quietly.
I hug him tighter in response. Training camp begins in September. “While I know it’s coming and you like to mentally prepare, we still have a few weeks. Let’s not think about it too much.”
He nods, but I know he thinks about it often. As long as he knows I’ll always come home, then he can continue to think. I give him another kiss and let him go because if I don’t, we’re going to desecrate one of his creations. Not sure someone will want to buy it if it’s been marked with cum.
Then again, there are weird fucking people in the world. We might be able to sell it for more.
I head back to my packing station and pick up the next order. Two shirts and a pair of pants. I track them down, matching the order to the numbers Zak has pinned to each item, and bring them to the table.
This only takes me another forty minutes to get through the three orders. It could probably take me less time, but I’m not in a hurry. And I’m not an expert packer. I probably give wrapping each piece far too much time and consideration but, meh. Is what it is.
When I’m finished, I take a picture of the mountain of packages and open ShareIt. I upload the picture, type out a post about how proud I am of my man and thank everyone for their order, tag Zak’s shop account and his personal one, add some musical accompaniment, and then post.
While It’s loading, I’m immediately sidetracked by Toby Eads’ last post and scroll so it all shows on my screen.
It’s a picture of Isak Lokken from Buffalo.
The image says ‘ISAK LOKKEN QUITS HOCKEY FOR PORN’.
It’s framed within one of Toby’s usual backgrounds, telling me that he didn’t actually create the image but is reposting it on his feed.
Toby is one of those superfans that spend a good amount of time on reporting hockey, giving his opinions and predictions, and making fun graphics. He’s been on my radar for a couple years now. I’m sure he has a personal account, but he never posts his face. His account is strictly hockey.
The thing about it is that he’s not an asshole. Sure, he probably has favorites, but nothing he posts is biased in the way many sports newscasters tend to be. He backs up his posts with stats and observations. And his graphics are professionally on point.
I’ve followed him since I stumbled across him and a post he tagged me in.
Because I’ve always found him to be a reliable source of news and information, I have a hard time believing that he’s just reposting bullshit. That’s not Toby’s style. So I click on the post to expand the content and read it.
No, you didn’t read that wrong. @Isak.Lokken, epic Norwegian defenseman for Buffalo, has announced that he’s retiring from hockey to concentrate on his ReachMe account.
Lokken’s post explaining his decision can be abbreviated by saying, “I’ve always believed in following your passions.
Hockey has been my passion for years. But lately, I’ve felt less excited as I meet my team on the ice.
If I’m unable to give my heart to the game, I’m not doing them any favors.
So I’ve made the decision to follow a different passion. ”
The post goes on to talk about his stats and some of his highlights. It reflects on his last season, noting that Isak’s performance didn’t appear to suffer in Toby’s opinion. He also goes on to say that he would still support Isak by subscribing to his ReachMe account.
Isak even comments on the post, thanking Toby for his post and support.
Clicking on Isak’s name, I’m brought to his account and, sure enough, he has his announcement post pinned to the top. But the link in his profile is too tempting. This could be an elaborate hoax, right? Would you really give up a multi-million-dollar hockey contract to create porn?
I click on it and the link brings me to one of those pages filled with different links that direct someone to everything concerning that person. Top of the page is the ReachMe account. I click on that too. Curiosity and all.
Sure enough, there’s Isak, whose porn name is apparently Loki Puck. I snort. What the hell?!
“What’s wrong?” Zak asks.
I glance over my shoulder and wave my phone. “Apparently Isak has quit to make porn.”
His eyebrows knit together. “Who? Is that a teammate?”
“No,” I say, chuckling. I still love that he has no true concept of hockey. “He’s a player for Buffalo. Or he was.”
“Wow… that’s a very different avenue.”
I laugh, turning back to my phone. I message Ethan to ask him if it’s true. While I wait for him to answer, I search down the Buffalo Skidmoss’ official site to see if they’ve made an announcement. I’m not at all surprised to find that there isn’t one there.
Ethan’s response comes through, and it simply says ‘yeah’ with a bunch of laughing emojis. I shake my head. Well… I suppose the message itself is a good one. Follow your dreams or some shit.
Setting my phone down, I spin in my chair to watch Zak.
I smile contentedly as he works, sewing tags into inconspicuous places on each garment so they’re obviously branded but not obnoxious.
With Isak’s story still at the forefront of my mind, I’m reminded of how hot it is to take my man in front of the mirror.
A sort of porn that we enjoy participating in.
Zak doesn’t finish with the tags and the rest of his tasks until nearly nine. We grab a quick bite to eat before falling into bed, wrapped around each other.
“I’m sorry,” Zak says through a wide yawn. “I didn’t think that would take me so long.”
“It’s okay. We always have tomorrow.”
“I promise to have a better work-life balance,” he says sleepily. “Maybe tag things as soon as I make them and get them listed right away.”
“Or you can have certain days every month when you put things live,” I suggest. “Train your followers to expect specific times each month to have new content. You could tease things throughout but it’ll give you time to get everything sorted.”
“I like that.”
“And make sure you take a couple admin days too. To list things, take care of bills, and stuff.”
Zak sighs which triggers a yawn. He laughs and tucks his face into my neck. “I should finish my GED and then maybe take some business courses.”
“I think you should finish your GED but not because you need it for anyone other than yourself. It’s something that’s been hanging over you for years. If you don’t want to continue school after that, there are accountants and business advisors that you can get in touch with.”
He nods. “Yeah, you’re right.”
He’s so tired that I let the conversation drop.
There’s a soft smile on his lips as he cuddles further into me and it doesn’t fade.
I like to think that I’m part of the reason it’s there.
I trace my finger over his lips, feeling the soft skin.
The corners of his mouth quirk up a little more and his eyes slit open.
“Sleep,” I tell him, kissing his nose.
“You didn’t let me suck your dick yet,” he says. There’s no conviction in it though.
Chuckling, I press my face to the side of his. “I’ll be hard for you in the morning. Go to sleep, business owner.” Zak smiles. “I’m so damn proud of you,” I murmur.
His arms tighten. “Thank you.”
Zak falls asleep almost right away, but I just watch him. I can’t stop looking at him. He’s just too damn beautiful. So fucking… flawless.