Page 33 of Misconduct Zone

Like the last game, the play gets physical. Ace intercepts me when I try to smash the player into the boards who hit Dylon when the puck is nowhere near us. I find a legal opportunity to shove him and steal the puck. Bonus: Ace takes a hard hit, and their defender gets sent to the sin bin. As soon as he’s released from his penalty, I’m tracking his play and take him out with a good hit.

The crowd chants, “Dragon, Dragon, Dragon.”

“Got a fire lit under you tonight?” Coach asks.

“Taking care of my men.” They all deserve protection, but one I will fight to the death for. I squirt water down my throat, ready for my next shift.

Jamal King scores our next goal, his first goal as a pro, and the bench celly is first rate. He holds out his hand for a high five, and our palms smash together. I cheer with him as we watch the third line. When Dylon catches my eye, there’s a flash of hurt, but it’s gone in seconds as he congratulates King as well.

Coach puts Benz in at the end of the game to give him more ice time. He saves everything they shoot at him, and we win five to one.

Lockers rattle in time with the bass from someone’s music. The reporters are gone, and Ace gives a brief speech to present King with the puck he scored his first goal. These little presentations mean so much, and we’re slow to leave while basking in the win and spending time together.

Grayson appears in the doorway. “Last call for treatment.”

“Gray, where are your suits? You get off easy,” Caleb shouts over the music.

“It’s the price you pay for being a pro puck boy,” Gray teases. “My suits hang in the closet collecting dust.”

Ace laughs, and Gray turns to him. “What the fuck. That’s my suit!”

“The dry cleaner misplaced mine, and I felt bad about all the dust on yours.” He spins to show off as Gray levels him with a death glare.

“Fight,” King hollers, and everyone turns in surprise. He’s still holding his puck, sporting a wide grin. “C’mon, y’all are hoping for a roommate smackdown.”

“Yeah, buddy,” Griffin sings, and everyone laughs.

It’s great to see King more comfortable and get in on the team’s pandemonium. It can be a rough transition for rookies, but he’s doing well—riding high from his goal tonight.

Everyone trickles out with their plans for the night. The team has noticed that Dylon does not drink anymore, and there is an unspoken agreement that he will only attend after-game celebrations when he is up for it. I always stay with him, and no one questions us.

Tonight, Dylon’s acting cagey, but with everyone around, I cannot ask him what’s going on.

He announces he forgot something in the shower to the three of us who are left so I sit on the bench to wait. When the locker room empties and Dylon hasn’t come back, I search for him.

My breath stutters when I find him naked, leaning against the industrial tile shower wall, waiting for me.

“Is everyone gone?”

“What are you doing? Someone could see you,” I whisper-yell from five feet away.

“No one is coming in here. I can’t wait any longer. I need you to fuck me.”

My feet close the distance between us in a nanosecond, and our mouths crash together, full of desire. He fists my shirt, keeping me close, then reaches down to undo my pants.

“Wait,” I say, and he hisses in frustration. “The first time I fuck you cannot be in the shower.” He starts to say something, but I cut him off. “It is a big deal, and I want the memory of our first time too. It should be special, not a desperate attempt to get off because we cannot control ourselves. We will have proper sex in a bed.” He makes it hard to get the last part out as he humps my leg, leaving tiny traces of precum on my pants. Last night, I cursed the rule we must spend the night before a home game in a team hotel.

“I fucking hope it’s not proper.” He strokes me over the fabric.

“Indecent sex in a proper bed.” I fist his erection and pump him.

“Better. But sometimes I really hate you,” he says while kissing me.

“Instead, I will introduce you to your prostate. Turn around.” He spins and braces his hands on the wall with his ass out.

Over his shoulder, he says, “Aren’t you getting naked?”

“No, this is for you.” My fingers trail down his spine, and he shivers. “I love your body. I love that you want to give it to me.”

---