Page 137 of Two Guys One Puck
I laugh, awkwardly as I turn towards my father, because what the fuck else can I do? “Well, I guess it’s out. Ktytor and I are seeing each other, but we don’t want it to leave this room for obvious reasons.”
“You must really think I’m an idiot.” Dad shakes his head.
I don’t know what to say because I can’t tell if this is a good reaction or a bad one. “What?”
“You think I don’t know when my son is smitten? Please. You wear all your emotions on your face, just like your mother.” Dad rolls his eyes.
“This is what I’m saying!” Ktytor slaps his thigh, busting out laughing. “He hides nothing.”
“Nothing at all.” My dad just shakes his head again.
Zeph isn’t even paying attention. Clearly, I’m the only one who cares if I’m gay.
“Come here,” Ktytor demands. I cross the room to him, and he wraps his arms around me. “You deserve this.”
“Thank you.”
“Are you mad?”
“No. Teams know my value, and if bad teams take you first, I go to better one.” He winks.
“You fucking ass.” I press my lips to his. “Are you pissed?”
“Three. Is good spot, and when we beat you at Frozen Four, it will mean more.”
“You’re not beating us.”
He pats my cheek. “If you say so.”
“How are you two going to handle the Frozen Four?” my father asks, clearly more anxious about it than we are.
Ktytor laughs. “I’m going to kill him on the ice, then we kiss and make up.”
I roll my eyes but take my father’s question more seriously. I know he’s worried about what will happen after he dies and wants to know that his kids will be okay, so I want to give him all the reassurance I can. “We decided it doesn’t matter and that we’re never going to let any of it come between us. The reality is we will most likely spend our careers on different teams, and if we want this to work, we’re going to have to accept that one of us will win and the other will lose, and sometimes, we will directly affect that for each other. It’s an entire team. If we hold any of that against each other, we’re dooming our relationship from the start. And I don’t want to do that.” I glance over at Ktytor. We hadn’t talked about it that in depth, but we’d come to that general idea. “Or something like that.”
“Is true. He can’t be mad at me for being hot and good at hockey. Yes?” Ktytor grins.
“And you can’t be mad at me for shutting you down so well.”
“I can. Little bit. But you like it when I take it out on you.”
“Ew,” Zeph calls out. “Get a room.”
Dad and Emily laugh.
“You still want to do this?” I ask later when things have quieted down and the reality of the draft sets in.
“You need more food for your ego, ????????”
“Will you just tell me what that means!” I drag him closer, draping my arms over his shoulders.
“Not my fault you forget to ask after the game, Seaborn.”
“I could Google it.” But I won’t.
“How?” he hisses.
“You put it in a text?”
