Page 94 of Full Body Hit, Part 1

Auston’s throat closed up. His fucking ribs hurt, the feeling glowing behind them was so intense. “I can’t remember having such a good day, either.” Not in anything non-hockey related, anyway. Winning the Cup had been something else entirely.

“Yeah?” Charlie whispered.

“Yeah.”

“I’m so glad I met you.”

“I think the same all the time, baby. All the fucking time. Don’t know how I got so lucky,” Auston murmured.

“I’m the lucky one,” Charlie protested.

“Nope. Sorry, you’re not gonna win this argument.”

Charlie snorted. “Agree to disagree.”

Auston hummed in mock discontent.

“Think I’m gonna fall asleep soon,” Charlie warned.

“Okay. Get some rest. I’ll stay on the line until you’re asleep.”

“Night, Daddy.”

“Night, honey. Talk to you soon.”

***

Sometimes, Auston really, really missed being part of the Baltimore Beasts. His role as captain meant that he got the sort of respect that let him have a say over which PR stunts he was pulled into.

Apparently, that was very much not the case with the Spirits.

Chase looked small waiting for him at the corner of an old, peeling building. It was kind of ridiculous—the kid was a hockey player, broader and taller than the average Omega, but there was something about the way he was hunched, or his oversized sweater, that shrunk him.

Auston had fought not to roll his eyes when PR had announced everybody would be paired up and assigned popular New Orleans sights to visit and make videos of. ‘You can film them yourselves…but we will make you do it again if the footage is not good’, they’d warned.

The idea was silly, like all PR ideas were silly to Auston, but he hadn’t actually explored the city much, and it was a definite plus that there weren’t going to be any cameras following them around awkwardly, so it didn’t sound too bad.

Until he found out who his partner was.

Apparently, it was cute to pair the oldest and youngest guys on the team. Auston had bitten his tongue and agreed to the date and time suggested for Chase and him to meet up.

Which brought him to the French Quarter on a cool, sunny Wednesday on what should be his day off.

Chase had his nose practically in his phone, sleeve-covered hands tapping away somehow. Auston cleared his throat pointedly as he stepped onto the sidewalk beside him.

“Oh.” Chase startled, taking a step back. His cheeks were red from the cold—the kid really should be wearing a coat.

“Oh,” Auston repeated a little sarcastically. He didn’t know why he did that—why there was an ever-present urge to poke at Chase that he couldn’t seem to curb despite being like a decade and a half older.

It was getting pathetic. Even he could admit that. His sister would probably say it had something to do with the ‘trauma’ his ex had left him with—the fear of being around people who could control their scent so thoroughly. How it was manifesting in Auston wanting to stab a hole in that control.

But Auston didn’t have trauma. What had happened with his ex was old news. The stress, the loneliness, the guilt that had plagued that year—it wasn’t like he was feeling that anymore, so it shouldn’t affect him.

So there was no reason to be so rash towards Chase. He could just not like the kid, be civil, and ignore him when he could.

Auston cut in before Chase could say anything. He had to be mature here. Concentrate on the task at hand. “So. I was thinking one can film the first half, one the second half, and they can put that together.”

Chase nodded, mouth still pouting slightly. “Sure. We should take some pics together, too.”