Morao （20）

January 4

Day 23

Ryan, wearing only pajama pants and a gray tank top, trudged through the hallway and down the stairs, thinking to himself that he needed to begin the search for his own place. While he'd been beyond grateful to Jake and Amara for opening their home to him, ever since JT arrived a little over a week ago, sleep had been a distant memory for Ryan.

Mar had been sacking out downstairs in the living room with him, having set up JT's bassinet next to the chaise lounge, seeing as he needed to eat so frequently. Also, being colicky, he would scream for a good twenty minutes after eating, until the gas subsided. She thought being downstairs would help prevent Jake and Ryan from waking, since they both still had to go to work.

Jake, yes. He could sleep through a nuclear holocaust.

Ryan, who was already on edge, not so much.

He noticed Baylor on the way to the living room, who was lying on his belly on the floor with his head down, ears twitching in time with JT's screams. He let out an exasperated sigh as Ryan passed by. "Yeah, I feel you, buddy. He's noisy for such a little thing, huh?"

As he rounded the corner, he saw Amara seated in the rocker, holding a screeching JT and sobbing. "Mar?" he asked cautiously, approaching her.

"I don't…know what to do! He won't…he doesn't stop screaming. Ever!"

He reached down tentatively toward the baby. "Can I? Take him?"

Mar handed him over, watching as Ryan propped him up against his shoulder, face down, and began rubbing his back and patting him gently, the sight of which caused her to sob even harder.

Within minutes, JT was sound asleep. "Should I, like, keep holding him, or…?"

"You can lay him down. Just be careful so he doesn't wake up. Please!"

Ryan placed him in the bassinet, covered him up, then had a seat on the couch.

"Huh, who'd have thought? You're a natural, Ry," she told him, wiping her face. "Ugh, I'm such a mess. Look at me."

But he already had been.

He had been for over a week straight now, and truth be told, it was confusing the utter shit out of both him and his cock.

Something about this woman since she'd given birth was driving him fucking insane. Hormones, pheromones…he didn't know the recipe. All he knew was that he was constantly tucking his boner into his waistband every time he saw her.

"You're not a mess," he said quietly. "You're stunning, really. Motherhood suits you."

She scoffed. "Right."

He watched as she stared blankly for a few minutes, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Amara?" he finally asked. "You're crying a lot lately. Are you, like, overly tired, or…I mean, is everything OK?"

"Oh, probably just the baby blues," she responded flippantly. "A huge hormone dump, combined with a baby who literally never stops crying."

"I mean…" Ryan gestured toward the bassinet and shrugged. "I got him to stop."

She smiled at him, the way she had the first time they'd met, and his cock immediately took notice.

Down, boy.

We ain't going down this road again.

"Um, so how's…Ty?" she asked, getting up from the rocker and moving to the chaise, lying down and pulling the blanket over her.

"He's doing OK. Said his therapy sessions seem to be going well, that he's learning a lot of coping skills. Said he isn't having as many cravings recently. I'm a little worried about him, though. He's…the only thing he's doing is working out, like, constantly. And he looks amazing. Shit, I think he's more ripped up than I am at this point. He just…he hasn't really connected with anyone there. I ask him about friends, if he's socializing with anyone, and he's not. I think he's sort of isolating himself from it all."

Amara shrugged, yawning. "Makes sense. Ty's not gonna open himself up to anyone he doesn't fully trust, you know that. Especially while he's dealing with this."

"I know, I just…don't want him to be lonely, you know? I try to talk to him as much as I can, and I know he's been talking to TK, too. I don't…" Ryan trailed off.

"Any word on TK's progress?" she asked, but quickly followed up. "I'm sorry. We don't have to talk about him if you don't want to."

"No, it's…fine. He's doing well, according to Hayes. Opted for the same sort of treatment plan, 35 days in and then 25 in some sort of sober living, outpatient facility. They're both hoping to get back to playing by February or March, but who knows? It's whatever the league decides, ultimately."

"Do you miss him, Ryan?"

"TK? Hell no. Fuck that guy," he joked, knowing full well she meant Hayes. "I mean, yeah, of course I miss him. But he needs to focus on himself right now, not me. I come in for the family therapy sessions, we talk almost every night, unless I have a late game. He sends me the saddest fucking songs and lyrics I've ever read and I cry myself to sleep nightly. I mean, Mar. Look at this shit." He passed his phone to her so she could view last night's snippet from Mayday Parade's "Miserable at Best."

"Aww, I love this song!" She gave the phone back, shaking her head. "Jesus, Ry. He does this every night?"

"Every. Night. And like, part of me wants to see if I can move on, get my mind off him. But it's… the couple of Grindr dates I've gone on, if you can even call them dates, ended with me feeling like the biggest piece of shit on Earth because even though I'm not cheating on him, it still feels like I'm cheating on him."

"Because you're in love with him, Ryan. That doesn"t just stop. It takes time."

"Yeah." He stared blankly at his hands in his lap. "This pain, this constant pain, it feels…" he said, looking up at her. "Oddly familiar."

She nodded. "You're a good man, Ry. For sticking by him."

"Yeah, I don't know about all that. Hey, can I tell you something?"

"Of course."

"So, I'm not positive, but I think one of my d-men kinda has a thing for me. I mean, I'm still kinda navigating this gay shit, but he's been real interested in working out with me, driving me home, that kinda stuff. He…actually invited me to go out on his boat with him tomorrow after practice. It's supposed to be like, freakishly warm. And I…I'm thinking about it. About him. Is that wrong?"

Amara shook her head. "Not at all. Just…be careful, OK?"

"What do you mean?" Ryan asked, naively.

"Ryan? You're gay. You've accepted that. Other guys don't always…some of them might just wanna play around, experiment a little with the new hot teammate. I just worry about you. The last thing I'd want to see is you get your heart broken, especially by someone you have to see every single day." She paused. "Again."

"So, there's something else, too."

Amara sighed. "I take back what I said about missing you guys and all your drama. What?"

"I kinda told Hayes. That I was gonna go out with him."

"Ryan!"

"I didn't say like, as a date or anything."

"But you know that's how he's gonna take it. Well, just be prepared for that shit show."

"I'm always prepared. I'm kinda the ringleader of said shit show. Not that I need to tell you that."

"Nope. You definitely do not."

He got up from the couch, leaned over her, and kissed the top of her head. "Hey? Get some sleep, beautiful, before he starts screaming again."

With that, he returned upstairs to his room, climbed back into bed, and rubbed one out, alternating between thoughts of Amara riding his dick and of himself fucking TK while Hayes took his mouth.

Baylor?he thought, as he lay there panting, using a wad of tissues to clean the cum from his abs. There's literally no hope for you.

???

Hayes, unable to ignore his muscles screaming at him in protest any longer, finally decided to take a one-day break from the gym. After one of his afternoon group sessions, he made his way outside to the courtyard, since it was a ridiculously warm 83 degrees. He looked around cautiously, making sure he was alone before having a seat on a bench.

His mind immediately went to Ryan, who was ‘hanging out' with one of the Lightning players that day.

One who just happened to be a gorgeous, blond-haired, blue-eyed Finn.

Hayes wasn't a moron; he knew what that meant.

He recalled the conversation he had with Dr. Rosa in their last one-on-one therapy session.

"Ryan is a good man, Hayes. And he loves you. But you're going to have to earn back his trust. And there's something that needs to happen before that can even be an option."

"What's that?"

"Your relationship with TK has to end. It's toxic, it's built on lies, and it's not healthy for you or for him. You understand that, right? That toxic relationships aren't conducive to your recovery?"

"Yeah, but it's…" He laughed uncomfortably and shook his head. "It's fuckin' Teek. He's…my boy. I can't just abandon him."

"Let me ask you this, Hayes: aside from getting high and drunk together, what did you and TK have in common? What drew you to each other?"

Hayes thought about it, and had ultimately decided that, even though the answer was nothing, he wasn't prepared to write his friend off.

He'd spoken to TK almost every night to check in and see how things were going. He'd gotten in trouble a few nights ago, having been caught taking a few puffs off a joint with another resident and landing himself on probation. But aside from that little blip, it seemed he was holding his own.

"Baby, I miss you like crazy," TK had told him when they'd last spoken. Apparently, his therapist had been hitting him with the same warning regarding his relationship with Hayes. "He says I need to end my friendship with you, that it's not safe. Well, fuck that shit. I can't wait to see you, hit the ice with you again. When we're both clean and in a better place, we're gonna be a fucking force."

Now, Hayes wasn't so sure.

He cared about TK.

And TK cared about him.

Weren't they just two broken souls who happened to be battling the same demons?

Or had they, like Dr. Rosa had suggested, actually been feeding each other's demons the whole time under the guise of friendship?

Not to mention, if he wasn't with Ryan at the moment, where did that leave his options with TK?

"Teek, if things were different? I'd let you do whatever the fuck you wanted to me."

Things were definitely different now. Did that mean…

"Always so deep in thought, Morao," a voice said, startling him.

He looked over as a much older Hispanic woman, who he recognized from his group sessions, took a seat at the other end of the bench. "What is it you think about so much?"

"I, uh…I don't…" He stopped talking, watching her open a bag and take out some crochet needles and a ball of purple yarn. She shook it at him. "Morao. Like you."

"I'm sorry?"

"Come on! Mo-ra-do! Purple? Jimi Hendrix?" She began singing "Purple Haze", but since those were the only words she knew, the rest was a series of hums and noises, which made him smile. "You are Haze, no?"

"I am Hayes, yes. But it's spelled differently."

"No importa. So, Morao, you ganchillo?" She pulled out another set of crochet needles and a ball of orange yarn and shoved them toward him. "Toma, agarra esto. I teach you."

"Um, I…OK."

"Look, I show you a chain stitch. Is basic." She scooted over closer to him and demonstrated, rather quickly, how to hold the needle, how to form a slipknot, and how to hold it while guiding the yarn from the back to the front around the handle to ultimately pull it through.

Hayes's head spun. "Listen lady, you're gonna have to slow down ‘cause I have no clue what you just did."

"Ay, Dios mio. Lady? Where are your manners, chico?"

"Well, I mean, I don't know your name."

"I know your name. Why you don't know mine?"

Hayes rolled his eyes. "What's your name?"

"Isadora. Or just Dora," she replied. "Yes, like the little bitch who's always lost with her cousin."

He snickered, watching her as she deftly maneuvered both needles. "You're real good at this, eh?"

"Eh? You Canadian, yuma?"

"Yep. Ontario. How about you?"

"Miami. But my family come from Cuba. Anyway, mi Yaya taught me. Grandma. I'm pretty good. I make an elephant for mi nieta. Granddaughter. Keeps me busy. I got nothing but time in here."

"You got that right."

"So, what's your story, Morao? You are too young and too beautiful to be here."

He sighed. "I'm a professional hockey player who nursed an old injury with a bit too much oxycodone and alcohol. Got a little out of control with a teammate and the club made us both get help if we wanna keep playin'."

"Oh, so you are famous, huh?"

"Um, I guess you could say that?" he replied uncomfortably. "Still feels weird. But yeah, lots of people know who I am."

"I don't," she replied flatly, shrugging and continuing her needlework. "But I know this: I bet the ladies love you. Novia?"

"Uh," he said with a smirk. "Nah. Novio, actually. Well, ex-novio, and I was hopin' we'd get back together. But apparently, he's going out on a fuckin' boat with one of his new hot teammates today. He didn't call it a date, but I know better. And how can I blame him? I, uh…I fucked things up real good, Dora."

"No te preocupes. Everything broken can be fixed, chico."

He continued watching her crochet, and within just the few minutes they'd been sitting here together, it'd started to become recognizable as an animal. "Hey, so I…my best friend just had a baby. JT. Maybe you could, uh, teach me how to make something for him?"

"I can do that, Morao. What'd you have in mind?"

Hayes shrugged. "Dunno. I guess somethin' easy since it'll probably take me the rest of my life."

"Nah, I bet you learn quick. Inteligente, you are. I can tell."

"Thanks," he said quietly. "So what's your story, Dora the Explorer? You out lookin' for your lost map and end up here instead?"

"Sabelotodo," she muttered, then chuckled before her smile disappeared. "Too much alcohol, Morao. My whole life, demasiado. Missed out on everything, missed all my babies growing up. I decided…I won't miss my grandbabies, too. I'm 67 years old, but is never too late, hijo." She turned to look at him. "I see your pain, baby. And I'm so glad you're here."

"I'm…I'm glad you're here too, Dora the Explorer." He picked up the needles. "Now teach me how to make somethin' beautiful, eh?"