Harrison had done the exact opposite. He always used rainbow tape. He always supported charities and events for the LGBTQ+ community. He marched in parades. He donated. He even participated in a queer hockey summer camp during his high school years.
And even though Harrison had never tried to hide who he was, he never shouted it from the rooftops either. He would ignore interview questions about his sexuality, no matter how hard he was pressed, which normally led to him storming out or telling the person to fuck off. He showed who he was through action, not words, and he wasn’t scared to ruffle feathers.
Jett had always admired that about Harrison—his courage. It paved the way for players like him to be taken seriously without hiding who they were. Harrison hadn’t been afraid to be himself, and that kind of strength demanded respect.
Jett was out too, and no one heckled him about it. He’d followed Harrison’s lead and shut down any questions about his personal life earlyon. Now, the only things reporters asked him about were his stats, his point goals—everything thatshouldmatter when you’re an NHL player.
The league had no choice but to evolve and grow with Jett’s generation of players. People in his age-range were much more open about their preferences, and nearly 50% of young players now were gay or on the queer spectrum. If the NHL hadn’t gotten behind their young stars and stood up for them, hockey wouldn’t be what it is today.
Harrison hadn’t started the movement by any means; that had been the generation before him, but he was part of theshut up and let us playmovement, as Jett liked to call it. The push back from gay players toward the press and management, letting them know that the game should be the focus, not the gossip about who someone takes to bed.
“You okay?” Harrison asked softly as he came up behind him, wrapping his arms around Jett’s waist and resting his chin on his shoulder.
Those damn butterflies in his stomach started doing somersaults again. Sexy Killinger was amazing, but snuggly Killinger was a whole other level.
With his face burning, Jett pressed their cheeks together. “Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?”
Harrison’s chuckle sent vibrations through him, making his skin tingle.
“Because you’ve been staring into the open fridge for five minutes, Sunshine. Do you need help finding something to drink?”
Okay, fair. He had totally been spacing out.
Jett closed the door with a sigh, and he turned in Harrison’s arms. “I was looking to see what I need to order to fill the damn thing, which is everything if you’re wondering.”
Harrison walked them over to the counter and lifted Jett by the back of his thighs, setting him on the surface so they could see face to face. “Are you cooking tonight? I was under the impression that you’re on the fire department’s list because you’re a high risk in the kitchen.”
“One,” said Jett, jabbing a finger into his chest. “I am not that fucking bad. Two: No, I’m not cooking, that’s what delivery is for. Three: I don’t have to worry about my cooking when I have enough money to pay a personal chef to cook for me.”
Harrison’s blue eyes were bright with amusement. “We all have faults, Jett. Not everyone can be perfect, and that includes you.”
Jett opened his mouth to protest, but Harrison silenced him with a quick, chaste kiss that left him stammering. When Harrison leaned in for a second, Jett ducked his head—so Harrison smiled and kissed his brow.
“Fuck.” Jett pressed the backs of his hands to his cheeks, trying to cool them. “I can’t believe you’re actually my boyfriend. I think I’m still in shock.”
Harrison frowned and took a small step back to look at him. “Is it…too fast?” he asked gently. “We sort of dove right in. If you wanted to take things slower, we could’ve dated more first.”
Jett held his hands up to stop him before he could say anything else. “No way. Everything’s perfect, so don’t worry about that. Sex with you has been… exactly what I needed. Honestly, I don’t think Icould’vetaken things slow.”
He let out a breath, his eyes dropping to Harrison’s chest. “It’s just… you’reyou, and I’mme. And I know I’m not the worst option out there, but still—it’s hard not to wonder why someone like you would pick someone like me.”
Harrison scoffed like he had just said the stupidest thing ever.
“No, you’re only gorgeous, talented, kind and well-liked. You’re last year’s runner-up for the cup, alternate captain of your team, and one of the top ten players in the league. You’ve been awarded the Calder, Conn Smythe and the Hart Memorial. You have surpassed me in every way possible, and you’re still climbing to the top.”
Jett swallowed hard. He was mesmerized by the determined expression on Harrison’s face. He couldn’t help but lean in for that second kiss, if only to see the determination shift into adoration.
“You need to stop putting me on a pedestal, Jett,” Harrison said against his lips. He drew back from the kiss, staying close enough that their breaths mingled. “You’re more than worthy. If anything, I’m the one who feels like I hit the jackpot.”
Jett gave a curt nod, unsure what else to say without giving Harrison more fuel to talk about how amazing he was. He loved praise, but this kind was hard to hear without feeling embarrassed.
“Can I take you out on a date?” Jett asked instead. “After our next home game, if we’re not crazy busy before going out to celebrate.”
The smirk that drove Jett crazy swiftly returned, and again, the butterflies began dancing. Fuck, he was so handsome. Everything Harrison did brought him closer to the edge of insanity.
"Where are you taking me for this date?" Harrison murmured, tilting his head to press a trail of slow, burning kisses along Jett’s jaw.
“It’s a secret,” Jett said between clenched teeth. “You’ll have to wait and see.”
