3. Archer

T he next few weeks are a blur of the same routine, working out, going to class, studying, hockey practice and before I know it we are already at the first game of the season. The atmosphere tonight is different, like some of us can feel it’s our last first game as an FU Flyer. It doesn’t matter that half of us spent the summer not working out, it doesn’t even matter that every practice has ended with most of us throwing up. No, the only thing that matters now is the game, and that little black puck.

The locker room is alive with a buzz of tension, as my teammates are a mix between filing out onto the ice, and finishing getting ready for the game, but my focus is still on my pregame ritual. Every game it’s always the same, a brand new pair of boxers to go beneath my base layer, and this game is no exception. My best friend always laughs at my tradition, but has been known to buy me a pair or two over the years, and our other friend and roommate Reign, goes out of his way to find me the most ridiculous ones he can manage, like it’s some sort of game to him. Which is how I find myself standing in the locker room with a picture of his face across my junk.

“Alexander, if you wanted to get up close and personal with my dick, all you had to do was ask,” I tease, leaning over the bench towards him and mimicking kissing noises, as he bats me away.

“Piss off, you wanker, I wouldn’t even touch you with Darkmore’s dick,” he claps back, as our captain in question rounds the corner, and looks between us both before shaking his head.

“Now, now children, don’t bring me into this sordid love affair,” he declares, slipping into his jersey, and I know right now his focus is on nothing but the game, yet still I choose to rile him up.

“Nova would love to get up close and personal with my dick, wouldn’t you baby?” I coo, wrangling him by the neck and rubbing his hair with my knuckles, as I dry hump him, because if you aren’t being confused as lovers, are you even best friends?

“Get off me you fucking predator,” he grumbles, shoving me away from him, and I hastily knock back into someone else.

Turning around I find a grumbling Josh Peters, who stares at me with nothing but detest in his eyes, before dropping his stare down my body and grunting at me. “Do you take anything seriously?” He scoffs, dumping his bag on the bench, as his best friend appears behind him.

Daemon ignores me, of course, moving toward his locker next to mine, as I shrug and reply to Josh, “I don’t know, I take fantasizing about your sister pretty seriously.”

Josh Peters is the son of the Mayor, and when his sister arrived on campus a year after him, he made it perfectly clear to everyone that she was off limits. It doesn’t help his case that Madeline Peters is an absolute smokeshow, and though I have no true interest in the baby of the Peters’ family, I still enjoy pissing him off any chance I get, especially given the family history between him and Nova, choosing chaos is my daily motto after all.

His father might be the mayor but he is also a piece of shit who screwed his secretary and then fired her when everyone found out. A secretary that just so happened to be Nova’s mom, and well, let’s just say it makes playing on a team with them very hostile. Yet I have my best friend’s back at every turn, and all of those turns include pissing off Josh Peters, just like I do his best friend.

“Gray, I swear to god,” he starts, turning towards me, but before he can take a step, Daemon is there blocking his path.

The two of them share a look, and when Josh steps back towards his locker I smirk, focusing my attention on Daemon. “What about you, Forbes, you think I look good, right?” I ask, holding my arms out wide and showcasing the body that hockey and the gods gave me. “Go on, tell me I look good.”

Daemon actually looks at me for once, letting his stare slowly eat up my entire body, before his eyes lower to my groin, and then flick back to mine. “No, you look fucking ridiculous,” he tells me flatly, before dismissing me completely and opening his locker.

I roll my eyes as I reach for my base layer. “You guys are a bunch of assholes, you’d be fucking lucky to bag someone as hot as me,” I tell them, pulling on my pants and covering Reign’s face, as the rest of them laugh. Daemon excluded of course, but it’s Reign that comes to my defense.

“If I was gay, I’d totally fuck you, buddy,” he tells me, with a comforting hand to my shoulder, that I instantly push off.

“I love you, Alexander, but that fucking giant pole of yours is going nowhere near my ass,” I tell him sternly, and the fucker just laughs.

“Always knew you were a bottom, Gray,” he snaps back with a wink, before leaving me to finish getting dressed.

The rest of the team are quick to finish getting ready, and by the time I look up, I note it’s just Daemon, Josh, and I remaining. With my own focus now on the game, I don’t bother trying to rile them up any further, and instead watch as Daemon begins his own pregame ritual. It’s something I’ve seen him do at least a hundred times, yet every time I see it, I can’t help but stare.

I watch in wonder as he reaches beneath his jersey and base layer, pulling out the silver chain and pendant he always wears around his neck. Apart from practice and games, I have never seen him without it, even the night we met, and I can’t help but wonder how long he’s had it. He unfastens the clasp of the chain and then holds the pendant to his mouth, kissing it gently, before tucking it into his locker.

When his eyes meet mine and he catches me staring, I open my mouth to defend myself with some baseless barb, but a ringing cuts me off, and Josh instantly turns around at the sound of Daemon’s phone cutting through the locker room.

“Is that him again?” he asks, and Daemon looks between me and his phone, before he nods. “Well, aren’t you going to answer it?” Josh adds, and once again, Daemon looks my way to find me still staring, only this time I am totally lost.

“Not here,” is all Daemon responds, and the look in his eyes has me dropping my own to the floor, and reaching for my skates, but not before I spy the name Jasper, across the screen of his phone.

Without another word, the two of them finish getting ready, and then Coach appears, screaming for us to get our lazy asses on the ice. Yet still, I can’t help but wonder what the hell just happened?

Once we hit the ice, everything else fades away, as we warm up and my thoughts are lost to the hype of the crowd. With it being the first game of the season, the arena is packed, and I am more than ready to give them a show. I warm up beside my teammates, flashing my smile to a few girls in the front row, spying a few of the familiar bunnies, but when it’s time for the game to start, I am locked in.

When the buzzer sounds I become one with my stick, nodding to my captain, and then we move in sync, stealing the puck, and blocking the opposing team from getting it back. Like always, Nova and I work seamlessly together, and every time our line is on the ice, we dominate, and that is no different tonight.

By the time we are in the third period the game is tied, and with less than two minutes left on the clock, I spy the puck flying in Nova’s direction, and with him being wide open and ready, I help block the opposing team from taking it back. Which means I don’t see one of their other players coming up behind me. He slams me roughly into the boards, knocking the breath out of me completely, and tossing me a wink.

What the fuck?

The cocky prick smirks, pressing the weight of his body against me, yet before I can even retaliate, I see the flash of a blue jersey, then the guy is ripped away from me and taken down to the ice. It’s only then I see the number forty-seven spread across my savior’s back, under a very familiar name. Like always, Daemon doesn’t take it easy on the opposing team’s player, ripping off his helmet and smashing his fist into the guy's jaw without pause.

Another player from their team is quick to come to his defense, but as he jumps on Daemon’s back, all it does is make him smile. It’s the only time I ever see him not flinch beneath someone’s touch, like he craves the chaos and pain, and the layers of his uniform finally allow it to be unleashed. The new guy knocks Daemon off his friend, but Daemon is already pushing back against the ice, knocking the guy away from him, and jumping back to his feet.

I spy the refs skating our way, so before Daemon can go for him again, I tug on his jersey, pulling him back from the chaos as more players join the fray, bringing his back to my front.

“Well damn, Forbes, look at you protecting me,” I preen, leaning up so I can speak into his ear, ignoring the roaring crowd behind us. “And you said we weren’t friends.” Of course the prick shoves away from me instantly like he’s allergic to my touch, as the ref calls him for fighting.

“Fuck off, Gray.” he tosses over his shoulder, as he makes his way to the penalty box, and I can’t stop the grin that spreads across my face, as I watch him leave the ice.

The game resumes and my smile remains, especially when my best friend scores his goal, throwing us into the lead just in time for the final buzzer. Yet my eyes are firmly on the box that cages our left defenseman and when he meets my stare, I can’t help but shout, “How do I look now, Forbes?” Again I hold out my arms with a wink, only making his frown deeper.

Then I am swarmed by the rest of my team, as we celebrate our first win of the season, and I’m grateful, but still I can’t help but wonder what made Daemon Forbes snap.

It’s a thought that is still plaguing my mind over two hours later, as the party at my house is in full swing. Everyone wanted to celebrate our win with us, and who was I to turn them down? Yet now I’m here and I wish they weren’t, because I am just so sick of everyone’s fake bullshit and congratulations. I remember back in freshman year how it felt to be showered with attention. I thought everyone wanted to be my friend, fuck was I wrong. It turns out, my skills on the ice are in a higher demand than anything else I have to offer, not that anyone tries to look deeper than that.

Outside of my family and Nova, and maybe even Reign, no one really knows me, not the real me anyway. Sure, they know the hotshot hockey player, and the campus whore, but that’s all they see, and Nova’s words about this year being different float back to me. Maybe that’s my problem, maybe people are only seeing what I want them to see, and not who I really am.

With that in mind I knock back yet another beer, flicking my stare around the room at the party in full swing. My best friend has already abandoned me, and gone to bed after an intimate run in with one of the hockey girls, and the rest of my teammates are spread out across the living room. I’m not sure where to start, so I swipe myself another beer and head towards where Alexander is, in the corner with Daemon and a couple of familiar girls.

“Evening ladies,” I cut in, stepping between the two of them, and Daemon’s stare hardens at my arrival, his shoulders tensing, as he takes a sip of his drink. “What are we talking about over here?”

“Archer, hi,” Georgia, one of the girls purrs stroking my shoulder, and I offer her my signature smile, remembering how many times we have fucked. She’s the devil in disguise just like most of the girls who always surround us, but with enough alcohol intake she is tolerable.

“Hey Gigi,” I wink, and she practically melts into my side.

“We were just talking about that fight at the end of the game, it was awful,” she adds in mock empathy, and I refrain from rolling my eyes at her dramatics.

These girls have been to almost every fucking game and should know that the fight they are referring to was barely a blip on any of our radars. And from the knowing smirk on Alexander’s mouth, he is thinking the same.

“Yeah, man, you’re lucky you didn’t break your neck,” he replies, smirking into his drink, as one of the other girls, Brianna, nods in agreement, cozying up to his side.

Both Brianna and Georgia are regular fixtures at our games and parties, and most of the team would consider them to be the main hockey girls. We’ve all been there with both of them, and they don’t seem to care who they fuck, as long as it’s one of us, and it seems tonight is no different. Usually I don’t enjoy my fucks throwing themselves at me, preferring more of a challenge, but tonight I’m feeling off, and maybe something familiar and easy is exactly what I need. Besides, I can’t begrudge anyone for owning their sexual preferences and going after what they want. Men do it everyday, so why shouldn’t women?

“Yeah, I’m lucky my teammate had my back, aren’t I?” I respond, moving my focus to Daemon, who is now glaring at me intensely.

“Oh my gosh, I know, he’s so brave,” Georgia coos, giving him her best fuck me stare, and for some reason it pisses me off. “I bet your body is sore after that, maybe I could help you feel better,” she adds, and for some reason her words cause an uneasy feeling to flood my body.

Yet before I can say anything, Daemon looks at her blandly, before replying, “No, thank you.” And then he leaves without another word, grabbing a bottle of liquor from the counter and heading out back.

An uneasy feeling pulses through me, but I shut it down quickly and focus back on the girls. “Well, I don’t know about Alexander, but I’m definitely feeling sore and could use some help getting better,” I tell them all with a wink, and the girls share a conspiratorial look.

“You guys still have the hot tub right?” Brianna asks, as I finish off another beer, and the drunken haze is just enough to make her suggestion sound good.

“Why, yes my dear, we do,” Alexander preens, knocking back his own drink, clearly already smashed, and circling his arm around her neck.

“Lead the way then, sixty-nine,” she tosses back with a knowing smirk, and Georgia presses further into my side, and looks up at me in question.

“I hope you’re wearing something slutty for me, under that dress, Gigi,” I say, forcing my tone to sound more interested than I actually feel, as I grab a bottle of something and lead her outside onto the back deck.

“You tell me,” she replies in a sultry tone, ripping off the scrap of fabric she was passing off as a dress to reveal her in nothing but a tiny black thong.

I take a deep swill of what I now realize to be gin, as Brianna also strips off her own dress to reveal just a thong almost identical to her friends, before they both climb into the hot tub and lower themselves into the water, as my teammate reaches behind it to turn it on.

“I told you it was a good investment,” Alexander whispers in a hushed tone, as he rips off his shirt, making the girls bite their lip, and I can’t help but smile.

“You’re totally going to order a new one tomorrow and replace it, right?” I ask, getting rid of my own shirt, as he starts on his pants, and the half-British fucker laughs.

“Oh, I’ll be doing it over my morning cup of tea when we are no doubt discussing what a terrible idea this was,” he tosses back quietly with a wink, before climbing into the hot tub and splashing both girls.

They both scream and giggle, their bare tits now dripping in water in a way that would make a priest disrespect his vow, before Georgia leans on the edge and asks, “Are you coming, thirty-one?”

I look at my goalie, who already has his face shoved between B’s tits, before I get rid of my own pants and smirk. “Oh, Gigi, you should know by now that I’m a gentleman, which means you will be coming first.”

I sink into the water, guiding Georgia’s waiting body over my own and pouring some of the gin onto her tits so I can lick it off. Her head tips back giving me better access, as Brianna begins to moan beside us, and I pull back to watch as Alexander sucks one of her nipples into his mouth. When B catches me staring, she leans over and kisses me, startling me a little, making Gigi giggle, it’s only then I realize what this truly is.

Brianna pulls back and then smirks before leaning in to kiss Georgia, and when I look at Alexander he shrugs, before going back to feasting on B’s tits, making her moan into Gigi’s mouth. And suddenly, whatever I was thinking before feels irrelevant. What Nova said about focusing more on hockey this year can wait until tomorrow, right?

The question floats into my mind just as Georgia's hand slides down my torso and fists my cock through my boxers attempting to wake it up.

Yep. Fuck it. It can definitely wait.