Page 19 of Josh’s Play

“Fuck it,” I mumbled to myself as I cut across the center of the ice until I was standing in front of him, inches apart. I looked right up into those dark-brown eyes, trying to interpret the conflicting emotions in his stare. Want for sure but also stress, maybe even anger.

Guess I was about to find out if he was angry at me.

“How’s my form, coach?” I crossed my arms in front of me like a petulant child but kept my tone light.

He tried for a crooked smile. “You can stay on your feet. I’m impressed. How come you don’t know anything about hockey?”

“Never been interested before.” I shrugged.

“Before?” I knew he had inched closer because you couldn’t do that smoothly standing on a concrete surface in skates.

“Before I met you.”

I didn’t have time to brace myself. He grabbed me by the waist with both hands, I slid and fell into him, but before I could face-plant into his chest, his lips met mine in a searing kiss. My hands were caught between us, and I ignored the dull zing of pain I felt when my braced hand hit his chest. His grip was firm as his mouth explored mine ferociously, almost desperately, as if he was seeking the answer to a question.

For my part, I answered yes, trying to do the calculus in my brain. I hooked up with guys all the time. Even closeted ones. Maybe I could hook up with this closeted guy. Maybe it would even be good for him to have the experience. I gently pushed away to look into his eyes. Had he found the answer he’d been seeking?

He sucked in a huge breath and looked at me in shock, his cheeks a crimson red.

“Cam?”

He cautiously took hold of my bad hand and ignored my questioning tone. “Did I hurt you?”

He gently flipped my hand over and stared at the brace, willfully keeping his eyes from me. Nonetheless, I could see the concern and confusion in his, and both emotions endeared me to him.

I stroked his jaw until his eyes met mine. “Hi.” I smiled.

“Hey,” he said back, but he could not match the contented look on my face.

“My hand is fine, Finn.” He gave me a serious nod and tried to look back down at it, but my functioning hand held him firm. “Have you ever kissed a guy before?”

He tried for a joke. “Was it that bad?”

“Cam.”

We stood, our eyes locked as I waited for him to decide what he wanted to confess. He looked so desperate, so in need of someone whom he could trust with his secret. I didn’t know why he’d chosen me; maybe it had simply been that spark of lust I was pretty sure he’d felt, too, but I was glad he had.

“No,” he finally said. His eyes blazed with a fire that he couldn’t hide, and it ignited one in me that I didn’t temper. I stretched up then to meet him and kissed him back with the same intensity he had shown. My arms now free, I wrapped them around his neck, my right hand encircled by my brace. He tightened his arms to wrap me in his embrace, and maybe it was that move that precipitated the change because all of a sudden, without a conscious choice on my part, I slowed down. The kiss was no longer pent-up, desperate desire, it was exploration and softness. I opened my mouth to him, and he slowly, but not tentatively, understood, sharing his tongue with me as we tangled and stroked, and the world faded until it was just two people, precariously balanced on ice skates, alone in their own universe. I wanted to stay in that world with him forever, and I was so lost in it that I didn’t even realize at the time what a monumental change that was for me.

The skates helped us keep the embrace PG as I didn’t risk moving my legs to get closer to him. It didn’t stop my dick from firming up in my sweatpants. I imagined his doing the same. The moment his tongue stroked mine, a moan emanated from me that echoed in the empty arena.

We kissed and kissed, and I felt oddly warm at the same time I knew I was getting cold, standing still for so long on the ice.

When the real world intruded on our moment, it was the sound of laughter echoing down the hall. Campbell jumped back and eyed my crotch, letting out a little moan of his own. All we had done was make out, and I was visibly hard in front of him. I didn’t dare look down at him, instead watching as his eyes went wide and the freak-out began. He glanced over my shoulder; I did too to find an old-fashioned clock on the wall.

“They’re early.”

“I’m gonna go,” I whispered though we were still alone, the voices far off down the hall. He acknowledged me with a nod as I walked behind him, brushing his arm for a second with my fingertips in acknowledgment. I was rewarded with that adorable, innocent, lopsided smile. “You all right?” I implored. He nodded but didn’t speak.

I sat on the bench and installed the safeties on my skates before waddling down the hall to the locker room to grab my stuff, passing Noah and two other guys on my way.

“Hey, guy from the party.”

“Hi, Noah.”

I kept walking before they could ask any questions.

Chapter Eight