Ty’s Chemical Romance （2）

Late November

"Ty Hayes!"

He felt an arm snake around his shoulder as he downed half of his fifth shot of something and struggled to locate Ryan's number in his phone out of one bloodshot eyeball. "‘Sup?"

"First off, open up." Hayes opened his mouth, stuck out his tongue, and swallowed whatever pills his teammate placed on his tongue, washing them down with what was left of his shot without even the slightest clue as to what he'd just ingested. "And ‘sup is that you need to get your ass to the back bedroom like, yesterday. Chick in there said she's down to fuck us both. I'm thinking a little DP action, baby." His teammate made an air-humping motion, then raised his hand to Hayes's hat, yanked it off, and tossed it onto the floor of the Anaheim hotel suite in which they were currently partying. He made a grab for Hayes's phone, but Hayes swatted his hand away.

"Fuck off, Teek. Shit."

"Aww, what's wrong? You gotta check in with pretty boy?" Hayes shot him a look, and he backed off instantly. "Well, when you're done having phone sex, come join me for some real shit. Don't worry, I'll get her nice and warmed up for you."

Hayes rolled his eyes when TK punched him in the arm. "What part of ‘I'm into cock' don't you understand?" he called as TK headed down the hallway toward the bedrooms. Focusing back on his phone, Hayes pulled up his text chain with Ryan, closed one eye, and clicked around a bit, finally navigating his way to the call button and pressing it.

Jesus Murphy, I am fucked up.

It rang five times.

"Hey, you've reached Ryan Baylor. Sorry I missed your call. Leave a message..."

Hayes waited for the beep before leaving his message. "Yo, Rook. I guess you're too busy to talk to your boyfriend. Tried callin' your ass like, four times. Don't worry, this'll be the last one." He jabbed at the red button angrily and stuffed his phone into his back pocket before picking up his hat and heading down the hallway to find TK, not because he planned on fucking anyone, but to see if he had any coke left.

Despite all odds, mainly the demands of their pro hockey careers and their young ages, Ryan and Hayes had managed to stay together, but to say that their relationship was strained would be the understatement of the century.

The summer months following their May visit with Amara in Florida had been amazing. Not only had they alternated between getting to know each other better and fucking each other within inches of their lives, but they'd also spent a ton of time training both on and off the ice together, with Hayes now sporting a newly ripped body that included a six pack. It wasn't as shredded as his boyfriend's, but he was proud of it, considering the many sacrifices he'd made to get it.

"Look at that shit, Rook!" Hayes had said proudly, holding his shirt up and gawking at his well-defined midsection in the mirror. "Imma be more ripped up than you soon!"

"Keep dreaming, kid." Ryan had said, before dropping to his knees in front of him, tracing the outlines of Hayes's abs with his tongue and looking up at him. "It is fuckin' sexy as shit, though. I'm not gonna lie."

They'd also traveled to Minnesota to visit Ryan's family for about two weeks, during which Ryan's mom absolutely fell in love with Hayes. They then made it to Oshawa for a few days to visit with Hayes's mom, who absolutely fell in love with Ryan. Though Hayes loved her, a few days of his own mom was about all he could mentally handle. During both trips, the boys introduced each other to where they grew up, where they used to play, and all sorts of other nostalgic landmarks, some pleasant and others not so much.

Ryan had driven Hayes through the intersection where his father had been killed and taken him to the cemetery to visit his grave.

"I know it's bullshit, but I like to think he can hear me when I talk to him here. And I really wanted him…needed him to meet you."

"That's not bullshit, Rook. I bet he'd have fuckin' loved me, eh? What's not to love?"

Hayes had shown Ryan the mobile home park he'd grown up in, including the run-down trailer where he'd watched his alcoholic mother get the shit beat out of her by various men for most of his childhood.

"The cops were here every other goddamn day, Rook. They'd arrest whoever it was and two days later, he'd show up again. Lather, rinse, fuckin' repeat."

"How come no one ever got you outta there, got you somewhere safe?"

Hayes had laughed bitterly, reminded of how naive his boyfriend was. "You think they gave a fuck about some trailer trash alkie's kid, Rook? It'd be one less lowlife piece of shit for them to deal with."

Ryan had watched Hayes's eyes narrow and his body language change as he stared at what used to be his childhood home. He could see from the look on his face that he was struggling, and not knowing what to say, he reached for his hand and squeezed it instead.

"Know what finally put an end to it all?" Hayes had said quietly, following a lengthy silence.

"What's that?"

"I was comin' in from practice one day when I was 14. Had just finished layin' all my gear outside to air out and I could hear them arguin'. I'd had enough, man. I grabbed my stick and got inside just as he smashed her across the face. I gripped that bitch like a baseball bat and teed off on that motherfucker until he begged me to stop. Told him if I ever caught him around here again, I'd fuckin' kill him. Never saw him after that either."

"Jesus."

"Yeah. We, uh…we come from two very different worlds, Rook," Hayes had said with a long sigh. "Entirely different worlds."

And it was the truth.

Ryan Baylor had grown up in literal suburbia in a four-bedroom colonial with a wood burning stove, a white picket fence, a chocolate lab, and two parents who'd made more than enough money to pay for all his hockey expenses without financial burden.

Hayes did his best not to resent his boyfriend for that, but it wasn't easy, as the journey had been so much more difficult for him. The only reason he'd been able to play hockey at all was because his family's low-income status qualified him for grants and special programs, all of which he'd sought out on his own, seeing as his mother had been completely wasted for most of his youth.

Tyler Hayes had always paved his own way, even as a kid. And as soon as he'd learned he'd been scouted by the OJHL for junior A and that there was a billet family ready to take him in, he'd left home without so much as a second thought.

However, that experience had come with its own set of issues.

His phone buzzed, snapping him back to the present. He took it out and checked the message.

R: Bridgeport? Anaheim? Three-hour difference. It's 3:30 a.m. here, dummy.

H: Shit. Forgot. Sorry. You guys win?

R: Yes. But are you OK?

H: Yeah.

R: Are you with him?

H: Yeah. But it's fine.

R: Are you fucked up, Hayes?

H: Nah. Go back to sleep. We'll talk tomorrow. Love you.

R: Love you too. Please don't get too fucked up with him.

"Too late for that," he said aloud, shoving his phone back into his pocket and stumbling a bit, as he grabbed onto the door handle of one of the bedrooms. Whatever TK had given him was apparently starting to do its thing, and he was hopeful a quick line or two might even him out.

He pushed the door open and immediately regretted his decision, as he was met with the sight of TK fucking a petite blonde from behind as she sucked Neil Halloway off.

"Shit. My bad."

"You seriously didn't lock the fuckin' door?" Halloway yelled, his hands tangled in her blonde hair as she worked his cock with her hand and mouth simultaneously. "Mmm, yeah, just like that."

"Sorry, you took too long. You wanna tap in, baby?" TK called to him as he smacked the girl's ass, causing her to moan loudly. "Yeah, slut. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

She looked over at Hayes with a mouthful of cock and nodded aggressively.

"Nah, I'm…all set. Have fun." Hayes quickly pulled the door shut, wondered if it was the drugs and alcohol or if he'd actually just witnessed that, and made his way to an empty bedroom, making sure to knock first this time.