Sasquatch to the Moon

12: Håkon's Dilemma

HÅKON

Rocket playing goalie when there's no pressure on him to stop anything is the most dramatic over the top very-Rocket thing I've ever seen. It's hilarious. Every chance he's got he's down in a split or rolling over or making dramatic diving glove saves. I'm worried he's going to get injured he's being so dramatic.

I'm in love with him.

I'm so painfully in love with him I don't think I could survive a single day without that dumb laugh roaring out of him.

And it's breaking the fuck out of my heart.

I toss a puck up at his top corner and he makes a huge show of dropping down and blocking it with just the tip of his stick.

Svea catches him off guard with a shot that dribbles between his legs, slug pace.

"I should copy that trick." I mumble. "Nobody expects me to shoot it that slowly."

She laughs, then looks up at me while I'm watching Rocket. "You look like you've got a lot going on up top."

I nod. "More than normal."

"Need to vent?"

I glance down at her, then, carefully to keep Rocket out of earshot. "Where would a gay guy be without his lesbian ex-girlfriend, huh?"

She lets out a burst of laughter. "Where would a lesbian be without her gay professional ice hockey player ex-boyfriend."

I just shake my head, letting out a soft chuckle. "Yeah, I need to vent. I would go over everything with Isa but she's up to her ears in wedding planning, I'd rather not burden her with anything else."

"Well, I'm not getting married, so," she glances around, catching her girlfriend, who did, in fact, play high league hockey out here and is giving Rocket a run for his money, though, he's only losing because he has to be all dramatic about it, by the sleeve.

Then, in Swedish: "Baby, I'm taking him for a walk, he's got a lot on his head, keep his boyfriend and the guys distracted for a while, I guess."

"Yeah, no problem," she responds. "I'll spark up a scrimmage. Wilhelm and Hugo are probably going to be on-board with that."

"Yeah, good idea, love you."

"Love you too." She responds before taking another pass at a pro goaltender, testing her luck.

I'm in a helmet and gloves, Rocket got most of the way dressed, spare a few steps, knowing everyone was going to take it easy on him, and the rest of everyone is in the same state I am, helmet, gloves, skates.

Svea gets me most of the way off the ice before nailing me with: "You love him, don't you."

I swallow hard, untying my skates and pulling them off. "Yeah, I'm stupid in love with him."

"S'what I thought," she responds. "But you haven't told him because you're a wuss."

"I'm not a wuss," I respond, slightly offended, slightly laughing. "We've been weird for a couple weeks, I can't figure it out."

"That's the whole issue?" She finishes getting her skates off, slipping her feet back into her boots.

"Kinda," I sigh. "I mean, it's a lot right now with me in this particular stage in my life and him being who he is and how, it's, things are just really really weird. I wish I could push off the wedding, give the two of us more time to acclimate to whatever new dynamic is happening right now."

She nods, standing up. I stand up after her, sleeping my hands into my pockets. "So what's going on with all of it?"

I nod toward the door of the rink, this needs to happen as far away from Rocket as humanly possible. I can't even risk him overhearing anything, Swedish or not.