Chapter Twenty-Nine
Elliot
Dustin crawled into the Bernie’s parking lot like he was trying to make the car invisible. It was nine PM on a Tuesday, so the bar was dead and the lot was dark, but Bennet was hunched behind the wheel and peering around like he was about to rob a bank.
“This is so sketchy,” he grumbled, “I don’t know how I let you talk me into this.”
Elliot rolled his eyes, grinning. “It’s not sketchy, we already did it once.
Oh! Over there!” He tapped Dustin’s arm and pointed to the back corner of the lot.
Dustin pulled into the spot and shut off the engine.
He looked over his shoulder like he expected someone to be following them and Elliot whacked him and told him to stop acting so suspicious.
They were on their way to the airport for his overnight back to Tampa.
It was a week since he’d been fucked by Dustin Bennet without bursting into tears, and he’d triumphantly fucked him every day since.
Over dinner tonight, he’d had the brilliant idea – at least, he thought so at the time – to leave for the airport early and do it in the car.
For old time’s sake.
Now they were actually here, he was a little nervous. His heart was racing and his stomach was full of butterflies, and Bennet acting sketchy wasn’t helping.
Dustin took out the keys and put them on the dash. He dug into the pocket of his leather jacket and produced the condom and lube, held them up and lifted his eyebrow. “Ready?” Swallowing his nerves, Elliot nodded, and Dustin hiked his thumb at the backseat. “Alright, cowboy. Giddy-up.”
Elliot scrambled into the back and Dustin smacked him on the ass as he went and then climbed over behind him.
It was the most logistically complicated sex they’d ever had – the angles were impossible. He ended up naked from the waist down, sitting face-out on Dustin’s dick, and when he came it went so high it hit the ceiling.
The night was warm and they drove with the windows down all the way to the airport.
The breeze coming off the highway smelled of pine trees and tarmac.
It made the car too loud to have a conversation, but no one wanted to talk anyway: Dustin drove with one hand on the wheel, and Elliot crossed his feet on the dash and trailed his hand on the wind.
It was melancholy. But it was nice, too.
He was sad to be leaving. But he was fired up about going back: ultimately he’d decided to stick it to Reef and not run away, and once he’d decided that, all kinds of things opened up in his mind.
He began to see what Dustin meant by ‘the most valuable player in the NHL’.
There was power there. He could use that power to do something meaningful – like come out to the team.
Or even the whole league. Show the kids coming up in the charity foundation what a hockey player looked like.
Weirdly, it also made him feel better about Sal.
It felt like by coming out, he’d be putting something down that he’d been carrying for a long time.
Like Jordan said: getting out from under the old man.
He never wanted to let go of Sal completely, but he hadn’t realized how trapped he’d been by his memory.
Dustin said that Elliot letting go of that didn’t mean he’d be dishonoring Sal – it meant he’d be honoring who he was: the first openly gay Puerto Rican hockey player in the NHL, with the power to make people take that seriously.
That was the first Elliot Rodriguez. And Dustin said Sal might even have been proud of that.
He felt that sharply in his chest, and reached across the center console for Dustin’s hand.
Bennet wouldn’t say it, but Elliot knew he was scared to retire. Elliot was scared too: his absence would be a hole everyone felt on the ice all season. He didn’t even want to think about playing his first game against the Avalanche without Dustin there. It was sad.
But it was wise.
The upside was that Dustin’s schedule was now completely clear to visit Elliot in Tampa – which granted, he wouldn’t be able to do as often as either of them wanted, because Elliot’s schedule would be so fucking packed, but Dustin had vowed to call him every day, whether Elliot wanted him to or not.
Elliot wanted him to.
They got to the airport fifteen minutes early and sat in the car in short-term parking. After driving for so long in silence, nobody seemed to know how to start saying goodbye.
Eventually, Dustin checked his watch. “Looks like we have ten minutes,” he said, “you wanna do it again?”
Elliot laughed and leaned over to put his head on Dustin’s shoulder. “I’m gonna miss you, Bendito.”
He felt Dustin’s head tilt on top of his. “Call me when you land?”
“Claro.” He turned Dustin’s hand over and pressed their fingertips together.
“And also when you board?”
He chuckled. “Sure.”
“And probably while you’re at the gate, just to be safe.”
“Uh huh. And get wifi on the flight so we can FaceTime.”
Dustin sucked in a breath. “Risky. You’re gonna get your dick out for me in front of all the other passengers?”
Elliot laughed.
They sat quietly like that for ten more minutes, and then Dustin tipped Elliot’s face to his and kissed him.
It was soft and deep and his beard was shaggy, and it didn’t last anything like as long as Elliot wanted it to.
They got Elliot’s bags out of the trunk and Dustin walked him to the terminal. They shook hands. They said goodbye.
As the terminal’s sliding doors closed behind him and the air conditioning hit him like a blast of arctic wind, Elliot dug in his pocket and pulled out his phone. He swiped to The Great Bendito and pressed Call.
Dustin’s voice was mildly suspicious as he picked up. “Yes?”
Elliot smiled. “Figured I should call you from the concourse too. Just to make sure you’re staying out of trouble, old man.”