Crack In The Ice

October 2024 [Eli]

October 2024

"The hockey and skating seasons should align geographically every year."

I push him against the wall and Liam yelps. He still says, "I'll start a petition."

I huff, pulling away from the kiss I wish I didn't have to stop. "Don't put too much hope in it. We got lucky."

Liam's grin is unapologetically devious. "Not yet."

I roll my eyes, but let him pull me back into him. His hand curls around my hip, the other holding onto the back of my neck. 

Soon, our jackets are too much of a barrier and our encounter follows the usual routine. Clothes are swiftly peeled away as we make it to the bed. This is who we are now. What we've become over the years. My efforts to stay away from Liam were lost from the beginning.

We don't see much of each other. There was my visit home after last hockey season, which felt a little like being back in high school with all the sneaking around behind all our friends' backs. Except now our friends aren't really two distinct groups anymore.

There's no hockey kids and figure skaters anymore. The ones who kept playing moved on to college, and the ones who stayed behind have studies and work. There's the Lake City crowd and the Brunson crowd, but the lines don't seem so stark anymore. Olie's dating Trey Coleman, Connor is still friends with James, Chloe's Liam's partner. 

It's almost like not enough people stayed behind to maintain the divided status quo.

When I'm not home, it's hard to meet up.

Those two worlds we always lived in have become physical now. We're actually living apart, leading completely different lives, following completely distinct schedules.

For me, it all revolves around the NHL season. I have practice, and games, and press meetings, and meetings with the coaches, and meetings with the agents, and the PR people, and the physiotherapists. I have hang-outs with the team, and the few visits with Owen we can squeeze in, and very few calls to the people back home.

For him, it's all about the skating season. Practices, competitions, and more practicing. But he's home.

Liam did get away with a weekend escapade to Calgary in secret, during the summer. But as soon as I noticed how hard it was to keep where I was going from Dean, I knew it wouldn't happen again.

But just like a couple of years back the two seasons aligned to find us in Beijing at the same time, we got lucky again. A NHL Global Series game and a week of training abroad with an old friend of his coach have us meeting in Sweden.

It was tricky, though. It wasn't the random lucky meet-up we had in Beijing, where everything perfectly aligned to have us stay at the same hotel. My game was in Gothenburg, while he was staying the week in Stokholm. That took a two-hour journey from each of us, in the middle of the night, to meet at a hostel at a halfway point.

This also means it was premeditated. Planned. Expected. We both had time to look forward to this. Anticipate it. Want it. When we finally crashed together, as soon as the door to our room closed, we couldn't get our hands on each other soon enough.

My heart jumps in my chest as he pushes me onto the bed, kneeling in front of me to remove my belt. It's all jerky, sudden movements. No finesse. No delay. Straight to the point. We've both been waiting for this for too long.

"Shit, shit, stop." I grab a fistful of his hair to pull his mouth away from me before I'm done before it has even truly started. "I want you inside me."

Liam lets out a choked sound. "Fuck. That should be illegal."

"Used to be."

Liam's jaw slacks, the lustful gaze broken. "Not that," he says. "You saying filthy, sexy things that make me weak in the knees." He narrows his eyes into slits. "Until you ruined it. Just now."