i'll be your hero and win it

by luminous_squid

Summary:

Kent's reward for a hat trick? Getting to fuck Carly for the first time.

Notes:

Oh baby, every single minute
I'll be your hero and win it
When the lights go out
Run away with me

-Carly Rae Jepsen

Chapter 1

Kent wished he could remember what he said to get a reaction out of Carly. There’d been a few similar moments, lately, but none quite as conclusive as this one. Comments about how much he liked Carly’s ass.  How he wanted to get in Carly’s ass. And each time Carly had kind of froze. This was predictable. Carly had tamped it down, but he still felt the need to assert an occasional no homo or I’m not gay. Which, whatever you need, dude. Kent was pretty sure it was at least bisexual to put another dude’s dick in your mouth, but what did he know? 

 

A cock in your ass, though - definitely gay. The final frontier. The point of no return. 

 

The lost comment had just flown out of his mouth without any thought behind it. They’d been chirping each other, as foreplay - as they did - but then Kent had pushed Carly’s buttons and Carly had made another I’m not gay assertion. Kent had kept his mouth shut. Even though inside he was pissed, because, really? We’re still doing this? After you made me come so hard I saw stars when you had your mouth on me? 

 

Fucking Carly.

 

So later an opportunity presented itself and he had said something about bending Carly over and making him take it. He couldn’t help it, and he immediately went to backpedal, but then he saw the expression on Carly’s face. Before, when he had thought Carly was freezing up, he thought it was because of anger or indignation. That wasn’t what it was, though. Carly’s eyes were wide and searching, his mouth just a little bit open, and… Carly was interested. 

 

Kent gave him a should be trademarked Kent-Parson-shit-eating grin. Then he widened his eyes and raised his eyebrows in a suggestive manner. He moved a little closer to Carly, watching how he reacted. He didn’t step back. He didn’t step away. Very interesting.

 

“You have such a smart mouth, Parson,” Carly finally said, but his voice was just a little higher pitched than normal.

 

“Do you want me to do something with it?” Kent asked, back. “Because you’re going to have to ask.” He licked slowly at his lip and raised his eyebrows at Carly. 

 

Driving home he tried to think of what a good next step would be. Because now it was pretty clear that those other reactions had been like that too. Carly was not opposed to the idea. In fact, Carly seemed like he had thought about it himself. 

 

Kent took a sip of his Gatorade. This was a big responsibility. Not one to take lightly. He needed to wait for the right moment - and until then, keep poking at it, make sure his assessment was right. Provide a little more detail for the scenarios he suggested and see what Carly did with that. 

 

He continued his investigation over the next week and mulled it over. Carly was definitely interested, but he never took the opportunity to express this interest. It started to occupy a lot of Kent’s time. He had fleeting thoughts about fucking Carly, even as as Carly pressed him against a wall and held him in place using a hand twisted tight in his hair, even as Carly held his arms above his head so tight it bruised a little, even as Carly smacked him on the ass and told him to take it like a good boy. 

 

Not just because he wanted to. This was really important. As RuPaul said, don’t fuck it up. Yes this was just bad-idea-kind-of-hate-sex, but you had a responsibility when you were the first guy another guy got his dick in. And got his mouth on your dick. Carly was a douchebag but when they moved on from this temporary insanity, Kent wanted him to go off into the gay wilderness ready to fuck some more douchebags and have whatever was a good time, for Carly.

 

Kent had joked with several hook-ups that he should advertise himself as Las Vegas’ only real switch. He was a little out of practice, though - he hadn’t actually fucked anyone since he had started fucking Carly. He hadn’t actually been with anyone other than Carly. He curled his lip at that realization. But, when the dick was that good and that convenient and discreet - mutually assured destruction and all - what was the point in going through the screening process and NDA signing and all that other bullshit. There were still plenty of supply closets left unexplored at the arena and practice rink.

 

He was starting to think that it would never happen, that Carly was still too much of a closet case to be able to express what was clearly a desire of his. Kent made one rule for himself, because of the closet casedness - Carly had to ask for it. Kent wasn’t going to suggest it.

 

Then Kent got the hat trick. They’d been playing around with a little system of rewards for a while now - a three point game, a really good check, a great plus minus. “I think I should get a big reward tonight, what do you think, big guy?” he asked, leaning against his kitchen island and arching his hips towards Carly. He said big guy as sarcastically as possible.

 

“Oh captain, my captain,” Carly offered. He stood in the kitchen doorway. His expression was hard to decipher.

 

“That’s right, I am your captain,” Kent said. “And that’s a lot of extra work, on top of all the goal scoring.”

 

“Mmm,” said Carly. “So this needs to be a big reward for a hattie and for being… my captain?” 

 

Kent paused, digesting that my. He thought about the recent comments. Telepathically, he attempted to communicate to Carly all you have to do is say it and it’s on. “It does,” said Kent. Carly wasn’t closing the distance so Kent did. Carly had to say it, but that didn’t mean Kent couldn’t communicate non-verbally what was on the table.

 

He pressed up against Carly. Never got old, how broad he was. How firm. Kent would have ground his dick into Carly’s, if it weren’t for the height difference. So instead he put both hands on his hips and held, looking up at him. “What do you think is a proper reward?” 

 

Carly swallowed. So close. Kent moved his hands to cup his ass. “I think maybe you c-”

 

Carly interrupted. “For a hattie, cap, you can get your dick in me.” The last part was said quickly and without Carly’s usually bravado.

 

Yes , thought Kent. 

 

Not about you , he reminded himself. He looked up at Carly and changed his expression, wanting him to know this was his decision. It wasn’t about Kent, not for this. “You want that?” he asked. 

 

Carly swallowed again. “Yes,” he said, and then he righted himself to factory default. “I mean, you seem to get a thrill out of it. Let’s see if you’re half as good as I am?” 

 

Kent grinned up at him. “Step into my office,” he said, gesturing for the bedroom. Carly smacked him, hard, on the ass. 

 

“Dumb fuck,” he said. 

 

Kent got Carly seated on the bed and slotted himself between his legs so he could kiss him. The yes had been firm, but this was the last bit of proof Kent needed - Carly was voracious, and his dick was already hard. He wanted this. Kent felt a wave of need at that thought, dragging his hands through Carly’s thick hair and scraping his teeth down his neck. “M’gonna make this so good for you,” he whispered in his ear, and then smirked when he felt Carly’s dick twitch. 

 

“It’s a reward,” Carly repeated, as they tugged off their clothes. The sight of Carly naked never got old. Kent reached over into the bedside table and got the big bottle of lube. He hand grazed over a condom and he picked it up - he loved being fucked raw, filled at the end, but for the first time? Might be a bit much.

 

Kent tangled his fingers in Carly’s chest hair as he slid his tongue around his nipple and then but it, which always made Carly make this amazing moaning sound. And made Kent wonder if straight people didn’t do nipple play. Carly was so fucking solid. He slid his hand down his abs and rested it on his hip, then moved his mouth down. “Thought you were gonna fuck me,” Carly said, as Kent pulled off his boxer briefs. 

 

“It’s my reward,” Kent replied. He licked a strip up Carly’s dick and took it in his mouth. He kept him well distracted as he reached for the lube. Kent had slid his fingers back before, pleasuring Carly from the outside, but he’d never even hinted at an excursion to his ass. He kept his mouth working - lightly, teasing - and used a thumb to circle on his taint.

 

Carly was making frustrated sounds, and he had his hand tight in Kent’s hair. “C’mon, fuck,” he said. 

 

Kent pulled back and put his hands on Carly’s hips again. “Hey,” he said, and looked him in the eye. Maybe used his captain voice a little. “I told you - I’m going to make this good for you.” Carly had a serious expression on his face as he held Kent’s gaze, and then he nodded his head. “Good,” Kent said. Fuck, he was so hard. He rearranged Carly, pleased and surprised at how pliant he was now that Kent was in charge. “You look so hot, Carly, fuck,” Kent said. Carly’s face and chest were flushed. 

 

Kent slicked his hand with lube. He moved so he was better positioned between his legs and put his mouth back on Carly’s cock, and then began to explore behind. He massaged his prostate from the outside, making Carly squirm and make the sweetest little noises. Then he moved his fingers back, teasing at the crease before circling his thumb around the asshole. Carly was initially tense but then relaxed. Kent could hear it in his breathing. It was so hot he wanted to explode, how Carly trusted him with this. 

 

He pulled his mouth off but put it back on as soon as he was done speaking, wanting Carly to have the pleasurable distraction. “I’m going to put my finger in, but just the tip,” he said.

 

“You think you’re funny,” Carly muttered, and then his breath hitched as Kent entered him. “Do it, fuck,” he said. 

 

Kent put a hand on his hip and rubbed it, gentle, running his thumb in the muscle definition by Carly’s groin. The literal definition of cum gutters. He slid his finger in further, murmuring on Carly’s cock. Slowly, he began to move his finger. Carly’s one hand was gripping the sheet, twisting it all up. His other hand was in Kent’s hair, but instead of the normal hard tugging and twisting, it was working slowly. 

 

“So goddamn hot,” Kent said, pulling back. “Hands and knees, now.” 

 

Carly looked at him for a long moment and then nodded. This was a position Kent had not seen him in before and he took a moment to enjoy it before he slowly worked his finger back in. Carly’s back was tense, but not as tense as Kent expected. “You want another?”

 

“Yes,” he replied. Kent moaned. “You like that?” Carly asked.

 

“You have no idea,” Kent said. Carly’s body was ridiculous and Kent especially loved his round ass and thick thighs. He watched, entranced, as his fingers moved in and out. Watched how well Carly took them. He put his hand on Carly’s cock and stroked it in the same rhythm, pleased that it was still hard even with these new sensations. He worked them slowly, trying to find his prostate. C’mon, Kenny , he told himself. You pride yourself on your aim-

 

“Holy fuck, fuck!” Carly’s whole back shivered. His whole body shivered, and he dipped his head down. Kent felt Carly’s cock twitch in his hand and he inhaled sharply - he had done that, had that impact. It was a lot. There was a lot of Carly to watch. “Parser-”

 

“Yeah,” Kent said, “I know.” 

 

“More, fuck, more,” Carly said. “I can take more.” 

 

Kent leaned forward, getting a different angle that allowed him to go deeper. It also let him press a kiss onto Carly’s back. He inhaled and couldn’t help but notice the sheen of sweat. He twisted the hand on Carly’s cock a little harder. “I know you can,” he murmured into his back. “You’re so fucking strong, I know what you played through, but you don’t have to with this.” 

 

Something shifted in Carly’s shoulders and Kent kissed his back again. “You’re so hot,” Kent said. He watched as his fingers went in and out of Carly - he wished Carly wasn’t staring straight into the pillow. 

 

“Parser, fucking - fuck, Kent, I want more-” 

 

That was what Kent was waiting for. Want, not can. He obliged, belatedly realizing - had Carly ever called him Kent before? Not the time, he told himself. Focus on the mission. “So good,” he said, as Carly tensed as Kent began to really stretch him. “Fuck, look at you taking this.” 

 

Carly made a groaning sound that was hard for Kent to quantify, so he moved his fingers back so they were almost directly on Carly’s prostate. “You fucking tease!”

 

“S’my reward, Carly,” he said. 

 

“Well, get on with it,” Carly replied. There was some growl in his voice and Kent pressed his lips together, pleased. He needed to get inside of Carly - his cock was aching. 

 

He moved his hand off of Carly’s cock and reached for the condom and Carly kicked at his hand. “No,” he said. 

 

“Are you sure?” Kent asked, concerned. He pulled his fingers out but teased at Carly’s rim. 

 

“S’good for you,” Carly said. More of that growl. He wished Carly would turn and look at him so that he could be sure “What, you think I can’t?” It didn’t quite make sense, but Kent knew what he was getting at. 

 

“Fuck,” he said. He was going to come so fast - try and remember his nieces and nephews birthdays Try to do math in his head. Something.  

 

He put his hands on Carly’s hips and pressed his cock against his hole. Carly tensed, but he didn’t back away. “Parse, fuck me.” 

 

He asked for it, Kent told himself, and slid in. He wanted it, he added. He moved slowly, rocking his hips, watching every small movement on Carly’s back, shoulders, and neck to see how it was going. It took all of his focus to be patient, and he watched the muscles shift in Carly’s back and listened to the inhale and exhale of his breath. “That’s so gorgeous,” he said. Pleasure was coiling deep inside of him. Carly was so goddamn tight. He was actually fucking Carly. It was a little bit much.

 

“M’not gorgeous- ” Carly protested, and then he dipped his shoulders lower as Kent bottomed out. There was a little waiver in his voice, and Kent moved one of his hands so that he could stroke Carly’s cock as he began to move. Carly wasn’t quite fully hard, and it didn’t take much to bring him back - bonus, this was a good secondary mission for Kent to focus on as he slowly fucked him. “I told you, Parse, you can’t fucking break me. You think you can break me?” 

 

“I know I can’t,” Kent said. He frowned, because this was the kind of thing Kent did when he wanted Carly to really drill into him and suspected that was what Carly was after. But he knew that wasn’t going to make it good for him. “Fuck, you feel so good, I-” 

 

And then the hockey gods smiled on him, because it was overwhelming with how good it felt, and he hit Carly’s prostate with his dick. “Oh, fuck, jesus fucking christ, Parse, what the fuck fuck me, fuck me,” he said. 

 

“Oh fuck,” Kent managed, and there wasn’t much he could do at that point but focus, keep things steady, and maintain the same rhythm was his cock and his hand. Carly was enveloping him. “Carly - I… fuck, Carly, fuck, it’s - I’m-” 

 

“Kent, fuck, fuck, fuck-” Carly said, and then Kent was really done, because Carly started moving with him. Kent focused. Kent inhaled, Kent exhaled, Kent edged himself, because he was damned if he was going to come before Carly did. Like skating suicides, he told himself. Except only his dick was burning.

 

“Babe, fuck, s’good, you’re so good, I need you to - I want you to-” Kent said. “M’so close, Carly, I-” He quickened his pace, and shifted slightly, and then Carly pressed his head down into the pillows and came all over Kent’s hand and his sheets. Came long after he was spent, dick pulsing in Kent’s hand as he kept fucking him, and then Kent once again saw stars as he came himself. 

 

He let himself stay there for a very long moment, moving his hand from Carly’s cock and using it to steady himself so he could lean over and kiss at his back. He felt hazy and overwhelmed, thoughts incoherent. He hoped it had been good. He had wanted it to be good. Fulfill his responsibility. “Fuck,” he said, and then he slid out.

 

Carly slumped forward. Usually he got right off Kent, went to the bathroom, bid him adieu. Kent could not remember Carly willingly - or, if unwillingly, unwittingly - engaging with a come spot. “Fuck,” he said. Kent took his cue from this and collapsed alongside him.

 

Carly's face was in the pillow and his eyes were closed. “Was that a reward worthy for a hattie, cap?” he asked, finally, and there was none of the usual arrogance and bullshit in his tone. It was almost a legitimate question.

 

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, that was so good, was it good for-” he stopped and bit at his lip a little bit. 

 

Carly cracked open one eye and made a grumbling sound. “What, I gotta pay you a compliment, too?” he asked. Then, much softer, he added, “it was really fucking good.”

 

There was no other way to respond to that other than to kiss him. Kent was surprised at how Carly sank into it, let Kent keep it slow. Carly usually kissed like he fucked, fast, hard, strong. This was languid, and Kent sighed as Carly rolled onto his side to make it easier. Kent pressed up against him, put an arm around him and another in his hair, worked his hand through it gently. 

 

“Stay here,” Kent said, when he pulled back.

 

“For what?” Carly asked, but he didn’t move when Kent got up and it didn’t sound like he moved when Kent was in the bathroom. When he returned with the warm wash cloth, Carly was back on his stomach. “If you’re cleaning up, I’m guessing the reward part is over?” Carly asked.

 

Kent just made a humming sound, not in the mood to chirp him back right now. He ran the washcloth over Carly’s ass and then nudged him, finally getting a direct look at Carly’s face when he rolled onto his back. There was something more relaxed about his jaw, and he was looking up at Kent with a different kind of expression. Kent ducked his head and focused on cleaning off his stomach and his dick. Then he threw the washcloth to the side and laid back down on the bed. 

 

He smiled at Carly, who smiled back. Kent felt a swell of affection for him and put his head down on the pillow. “Oh, you tired?” Carly asked. “What did you do today?”

 

“Three goals,” Kent said. “Plus four.” 

 

“How many minutes? Fucking forwards,” Carly said. He leaned in and kissed Kent, grazing his lips. Then they just laid next to each other for at least a few minutes, just breathing. Carly made a grumbling sound. “I should get home,” he said. “Before I fall asleep.” 

 

Kent wanted to say something - after all, they had passed out twice in each other’s bed after games and a long fuck. Would that be bad? He thought, and was glad he bit his tongue. “OK,” he said. 

 

He waited until Carly was out the front door to think about what it would like if he had stayed. They fell asleep next to each other each time, and usually Kent hated sleeping next to other people and had to move to his own side of the bed. But Carly didn’t move at all, his bulk was just a reassuring and constant presence. Kent had even wiggled his ass up against him and Carly had done nothing all night until he woke up and swatted at Kent, calling him a pest. Plus they had the morning off the next day since there were two days in-between games. Kent could have seen if Carly was being completely truthful when he said that he made the best smoothies on the team in both the protein powder and non-protein powder categories. 

 

“Hey, darling,” he said, instead, to Kit, when she hopped into the bed. “It’s gross and disgusting, I’m sorry,” he added. Kit did not seem to mind and snuggled up in her usual spot, making a few biscuits first to ensure it was perfect. Kent watched her, content and smiling, but also resolutely not thinking of a lot of the thoughts that were swirling through his head. He kind of couldn’t believe Carly had done that - had, for all the bluster he still spewed on the regular, been willing to be vulnerable with Kent like that. “Gross,” he repeated, to Kit, and then closed his eyes. 

Chapter 2

Summary:

This is the part, you've got to say all that you're feeling, feeling
-Carly Rae Jepsen

There was no other way to deal with the weird lingering feelings from the night before than to go over to Carly’s house and get positively destroyed - bite marks, bruises, a perfect Carly shaped handprint on his ass. Get railed, rail out - away? - any and all lingering feelings. Kent hated having feelings. He always thought back to his rookie year, when he just sat and took a lot of the locker room in, and the way many of the older guys - now traded, or signed elsewhere, or retired - would talk about their wives or girlfriends. Stage five clinger. Always wanting. So clingy.  Was that how Jack had felt? Kent had cared, and Jack had just pushed him away.

 

He texted Carly when he pulled into the driveway. Yo where are you? After a minute with no response he got out of the car and keyed in the number to get into the door. The house was suspiciously quiet. Carly was a loud person. Kent meandered into the kitchen and got a Gatorade out of the fridge and then heard a weird buzzing-slash-whining sound from the garage. Hopefully Carly wasn’t being murdered. Although that would solve his problem. Haha. 

 

He opened the door and then stopped at what he saw. He had never been in Carly’s garage, he realized, which was weird. Carly always had him park in the driveway even though it was clearly a three car garage and he owned his one giant truck. Now Kent knew why.

 

It was full of stuff Kent recognized as power tools, a huge workbench, and tool cabinets. A massive peg board was on one wall with more tools than any single person could ever need. There was wood, paint, and other supplies neatly organized in shelves against a wall. It was like one of those Instagram posts of some suburban mom’s craft room - but with more saws. Carly was at the workbench, hair back in a loose man bun, with a little piece falling into his face as he squinted at several long wood pieces. There was a pencil behind his ear. 

 

“What’cha doing?” Kent asked.

 

“Woodworking,” Carly asked, looking up at him with pity.

 

Kent waved his hand. “No, what is this?” he asked. “What’s it going to be?”

 

“A side table,” Carly said. “But the joinery is being a pain in the dick. I’ll be done in about thirty minutes. You can chill inside.” Carly was in a worn tshirt that had developed a really deep v, showing off all his chest hair. His expression that same focused one he had on the ice. 

 

“Mind if I stay in here?” Kent asked, cocking his head.

 

“Uh, sure, OK?” Carly said. He used his foot to nudge a stool over at Kent. 

 

---

 

Getting railed, absolutely wrecked - bruised and bit, lightly choked, and called a filthy whore - did not help.

 

Kent went through a mental list of people he could discuss this problem with, other than his therapist, who he had an appointment with tomorrow. His sister? Absolutely not, because he’d have to explain the sex part of it to her. Scraps and Swoops? Again, no, because he’d have to explain the Carly part of it to them. A random Las Vegas bartender? A possibility, but he’d have to pretend Carly was a woman so he didn’t get sold out to the tabloids. 

 

He groaned and texted Dani. Rose and chill tonight after practice? 

 

Kent, how did you know I needed a break from my dumb husband and children? 

 

I’m that good of a friend, he replied. She was going to be even more delighted when she learned the subject matter of ‘chill.’ 

 

---

 

“And then Natesy called me Mrs. Scraps I just looked at him with abject pity,” Dani said, pushing some of her black hair out of her face and shaking her head.

 

“I worry about the kid, I do,” Kent said, solemnly. “Hey! So! Speaking of abject pity.” 

 

Dani leaned in closer. Dani could always smell blood in the water. It was why she and Kent were friends. “Oh?”

 

“I have a situation.” 

 

“Do you?” she asked, studiously calm. 

 

Kent narrowed his eyes at her. “What do you know?”

 

“I know you’ve been acting ‘all weird’ and ‘possibly concussed’ and  ‘random’ and ‘shockingly relaxed’ lately,” said Dani. “Vince and Jeff, have, like, regular meetings about it. They’re so cute. I think next week they’re going to get, like, a whiteboard and red string and stuff. But it’s obvious what’s going on.”

 

Kent swallowed the rest of his rose. “It is?” he asked.

 

Dani nodded at him. “You have all the signs of being dickmatized, Kent,” she said. She tapped her nose with a manicured finger.

 

“I love that color,” Kent replied.

 

“Thank you,” Dani said. “But I’ve been annoyed, because I have not been able to figure out whose dick is doing the -matizing.” 

 

Kent sighed. But he did need the help. “If I tell you, you have to promise to help me.”

 

“What do you take me for?” Dani said. “Have I never not helped you?”

 

“No,” Kent said. “But I haven’t said the name yet.”

 

Dani leaned forward. Kent inhaled and closed his eyes. 

 

“Carly.” 

 

Dani made no sound. It was incredibly, painfully quiet for the longest time. Kent was pretty sure he heard traffic outside. He opened his eyes.

 

Then Dani just slowly cocked her head at him. “At first I thought you were joking, but then you went all red,” she said. 

 

“I am not all red,” Kent replied, except he could feel how red he was.

 

“Carly?” she asked. “Carly Carly? With the chinstrap?”

 

“I knooooow,” Kent groaned, and he flopped into some pillows and then poured himself some more rose, miserable. “That one! With the chinstrap! But Dani, the sex - the sex is cosmically good. Cannot use words good.” As often happened when Kent had too many feelings, he just started going giving Dani the high level overview and then a summary: “his dick is huge and he knows how to use it, and the way he blows me, it’s like he’s dying of thirst and my come is water, and he let me fuck him the other night, and I went over to his house the next day to get my ass pounded so I didn’t have to think about that, and did you know he has a whole woodworking shop and he’s like a professional at it? He’s a big hot hockey player who’s amazing at sex and has an old man hobby!” 

 

“There’s a lot of unpack there, and to start, I’m not clear on what old man hobby has to do with it?” 

 

Kent peered at her, covered his face with a pillow, and said, “I don’t either but apparently as soon as hot hockey players have old man hobbies I am donezo.” 

 

“Kent, I need you to answer this honestly so I can best help you,” Dani said. “Help you as your friend, which I am. Do you have…feelings…for… Carly?”

 

Kent groaned into the throw pillow. Then he pulled it back. “I obviously do not have feelings for Carly.”

 

“Obviously,” said Dani. She sipped her rose.

 

“Why?” Kent asked. “Why is this my life?”

 

“On the one hand, yes, Carly, ” Dani said. “The dick must be amazing-” Kent mimed explosions next to his head “-on the other hand, you said that he, um, trusted you with something that must have been, uh, difficult for him?”

 

“What are you talking about?” Kent asked. 

 

Dani issued an aggrieved sigh. “I was trying to be nice, since you like him-”

 

“We’re still determining that-”

 

“Since you like him, but it’s Carly, and you said that he let you fuck him?” 

 

Kent felt himself go red again. Stupid wine flush. He should have picked a different spirit that wouldn’t betray him. “I mean, he kept reacting in this interesting way when it came up when we were, like, chirping each other - it’s kind of foreplay? - and I was like, huh. Like he got this look on his face… but I made a rule that he had to bring it up, I wasn’t going to. And I scored a hattie and he said I should get a reward and before I could say anything he was like, you could fuck me.” 

 

Dani nodded her head along with this. “OK,” she said. “And you did?”

 

Kent sighed. “And I shouldn’t have, because that’s when the whole problem started!” 

 

“Not before, when you’ve been fucking like rabbits since last June.”

 

“We only fucked a few times over the summer when we were in proximity to each other,” Kent amended, which did not really help his argument here. 

 

“Fine,” Dani said, waving a hand. She pet Kit, who had come over to see what all the shouting was about. “Why did this start the problem?”

 

“Because I couldn’t just fuck him fuck him, for his first time,” Kent said. “He’s never even kissed a dude before me! I had a responsibility to whoever he’s with next! So I made sure it was, you know, good, and then afterwards we kind of had this moment, and it was…” 

 

“Kent, do you want someone else to be with Carly next?” 

 

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuck,” Kent groaned. 

 

“Alright,” said Dani. “We’re going to make a plan, since I know you’re terrible at this.” Kent pouted. “It’s not your fault,” she amended. “I understand why.” She narrowed her eyes. “You are going to tell Carly about this-”

 

“What if he-”

 

“He let you fuck him, he will not, I’m shutting down that entire line of inquiry,” said Dani. “If you tell him, good things happen. Or he says, sorry, Kent, not like that.  If you do not tell him things keep going like they are and you’re pining for him and it gets weird and things fall apart but in a destructive way. Therefore, there is literally only an upside to expressing your feelings.” 

 

Kent wasn’t entirely sure this was correct but he had several glasses of pink wine at this point. “Fine, fine, fine,” he said. “I will enact your plan.”

 

“Good boy,” Dani said. “Side question, before we get into this - Zimmermann has hobbies?”

 

“Yeah,” Kent said. “He likes golf, and fishing, and WWII documentaries. All totally old man stuff.”

 

“Woodworking is so much hotter,” Dani said.

 

“You should have seen him,” Kent said. This was not helping. “He had a pencil behind his ear.” Dani was giving him a look, and he did not appreciate it. 

 

“Alright, this is what you are going to do,” she said.

 

---

 

Kent did not do any of the things that they planned on him doing or saying.

 

This is what he actually did:

-got fucked by Carly in their favorite supply closet (tucked away, with an old trainer’s bench in it, excellent for leverage and such)

-blew Carly in the locker room shower after everyone else had left 

-had Carly tie Kent’s hands up with his game day tie in a hotel room in Seattle 

 

This was fine, Kent decided. Smoking hot sex. Carly had been much less of a dick since he got dicked. He hadn’t made a no homo comment since crossing the event horizon. 

 

After another game, Kent rode him and kept it so slow that Carly almost cried he needed to come so badly. Then Carly passed out in his bed because he was incredibly tired. The next morning, Kent woke up and was sad that there wasn’t a large body radiating excessive heat next to him. Then he smelled the eggs and found Carly in the kitchen cooking and drinking one of Kent’s smoothies. “Non-beauty move,” Kent said, pointing at the pre-made smoothie.

 

“These are gross,” Carly said. “You should make them fresh.”

 

“Do you?” Kent asked, as Carly shoveled some of the omelette on a plate for him. Carly nodded. “Huh.” 

 

Carly had never made him food before. Kent resolved to happily eat his eggs and not think about the feeling that gay him in his stomach.

 

—

 

A Narratively Necessary Point of View Shift 

 

Carly actually made a list of people and crossed each and every one of them out except for one. He briefly considered the one out person he knew -  his niece, Natalie, but she was nineteen. She did not have the same life experience. She was also terrifying and goth. The last time Carly had seen her she had leveled him with a withering comment about his favorite hat. 

 

This left Alex, who he knew was the same age and he was pretty sure was a lesbian. He showed up at Woodcraft right when he knew her class was going to end and acted like he was just bumping into her. “Hey, buddy,” she said, extending a hand for a fistbump. “How’s that joinery project going?”

 

“I’ve had some, uh, distractions,” he said. He scratched at the back of his neck. “Was wondering if you wanted to grab a coffee. Or drink.” He tried not to presume.

 

“Sure,” she said. Because it was Vegas, they had to get in Alex’s truck - after a silly my truck or your truck hand gesture debate - to go to a nearby coffee shop. They sat across from each other. 

 

“I need advice,” Carly said.

 

“OK,” said Alex. “I figured it was something - you’re sure not asking me out.” She winked at him.

 

“Well, it’s kind of about that kind of thing,” Carly said, and then slowly, carefully, as he tore a coffeehouse napkin into tiny little pieces, he told her the whole story of how he had got to where he was. 

 

“You’re with someone with a cat?” Alex asked, because they had initially become friends when they both agreed that cats were hellish creatures who had no room in people’s homes and dogs were clearly God’s chosen.

 

Carly smiled at her, relieved at the question. However. “His cat is chill,” Carly clarified.

 

“Oh, man, you’ve got it bad,” Alex replied. “Oh, I’m sorry, bud. Look at your face!” She made an uncharacteristic cooing sound at him. Probably something similar to how she reacted when her dogs were visibly upset.

 

“I know, and he’s - I mean, I don’t know the details, but I know enough. He has some trouble with…” Carly frowned. “Opening up to people, after some stuff.”

 

“OK,” said Alex. “But what about you?”

 

Carly frowned. He had been accused of this a lot in the past, but now it all made sense. Like on the Bachelor - he hadn’t been there for the right reasons. “I don’t think I’m good at that either,” he said.

 

“Man, no one is,” Alex replied.

 

“What about that stereotype, about lesbians? U-Hauling and shit?” Carly said.

 

“You think that happens because people are open and honest with each other? And that it ends with happily ever after?” Alex replied. She stared off into the long distance, clearly contemplating something. “So, you tell this guy, you want more. What happens?”

 

“This is some therapist bullshit,” Carly grumped.

 

“You asked me for advice!” Alex said. “Have you… been to therapy?”

 

“Sports psychologist,” Carly replied. “And I have…seen it on TV.”

 

“Bud,” Alex said. “What happens when you tell him?”

 

“He says, I don’t like you, I’m just here for the sex,” Carly said.

 

“Or he says, I like you too, let’s stay here for the sex,” said Alex. “Sometimes, we feel like the known is better, because it’s the same. But sometimes the unknown is better than we can imagine.” 

 

“That’s some real deep shit, there,” Carly said. He was impressed.

 

“Thanks, it was on the inside of one of my girlfriend’s planners,” Alex replied. Carly laughed and smiled at her. 

 

When she dropped him off back at his truck she punched him hard in the shoulder. This was why they were friends. Alex knew how to throw a punch. “Do it, big man,” she said. “And tell me how it goes!” 

 

“OK,” Carly replied. He only felt a little nauseous when he got into his truck. Feelings were stupid and hard and he did not like them. But she might be onto something with that planner quote, or whatever.

 

---

 

Back to Our Regularly Scheduled Hockey Bro 

 

They were in the substandard medical supply closet - without the used trainer’s bench - aggressively making out. They were both struggling to get their hands down each other’s pants since they were in their suit pants. Kent was about to destroy the elaborate system keeping him from Carly’s cock - literally straining against the suit fabric, the hottest thing Kent had ever seen - when Carly gently pushed him away. “Fuck, Parse,” he said.

 

“What?” Kent asked, immediately concerned. Carly was voracious. Carly never stopped mid-hookup. One time he had clamped his hand over Kent’s mouth and kept fucking him against the shower wall even though one of their rookie teammates had stupidly returned to the locker room. 

 

“I just,” Carly said, and then he stopped. He looked at Kent with very sad, almost puppy-dog like eyes. Kent frowned.

 

“Feeling frustrated, big guy?” he asked. He dropped down to his knees. “Maybe I can get at you better from this angle.”

 

“Parse,” Carly said, and he put a hand on his head and instead of slamming Kent into his dick he tilted it upwards so Kent could see him. This was so embarrassing, Kent realized. He was going to get broken up with, by Carly, down on his knees in a closet.

 

In a way it made sense that it would come to this. “OK,” he said.

 

“OK?” Carly said. “OK what? You don’t know what I’m going to say.” He frowned. Kent sighed. “I just - I don’t think this is-”

 

“Going to work, yes, I know,” Kent said, and he stood up and brushed himself off. “I’ll spare you the whole explanation, I know that kind of thing is hard for you.” He turned because he didn’t want to have to face Carly and he could already feel his face growing hot.

 

Carly reached and grabbed his wrist, but the hold was gentle. Firm, but gentle. “I fucking like you, Kent.”

 

Kent. Kent thought about the eggs, and how Carly had looked at him after Kent had fucked him. How cute Carly had been that one time when he played with the laser pointer with Kit. He turned and looked at Carly, whose face was all crumpled, like Kent had kicked him. “You do?” 

 

“Yeah,” Carly said. “I mean, the fucking is awesome, but…” He let go of Kent’s hand and scratched at the back of his neck, sighing and pressing his lips together. Still emotionally constipated. “You know what I mean, right?” 

 

“I think so,” Kent said. His stomach was fluttering. He hated this feeling too. It was so much better when things were just chill. Neutral. No feelings at all. “You like me?” Carly nodded. “I like you too.” 

 

Carly’s smile was immediate, big and full, and so Kent sort of launched himself at him. Carly caught him pretty easily and Kent wrapped his legs around him while Carly held up the rest of him. “Hey,” Carly said, and he pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I was nervous about telling you.”

 

“Oh,” Kent said.

 

“I mean, I didn’t think, you’re you and I’m…” He shrugged, jostling Kent a little, and Kent took the opportunity to put his feet back on the ground because as much as he enjoyed this it was not completely sustainable. 

 

“You’re so great,” Kent said. “You know how hot you are, right? Like when you’re all focused on your woodwork and stuff?” 

 

“Yeah?” Carly said. 

 

“Yeah,” Kent said. He leaned up and kissed him. “I was - I wanted to talk to you about this too. But I was worried as well.” 

 

“Oh,” Carly said. 

 

“I thought you just wanted my hot bod,” Kent said. “Um. So. What does this mean? Like-”

 

“We should talk more,” Carly said, and Kent blanched but then he realized what Carly meant. Not talking more about their feelings. Or their relationship. But getting to know each other. “We can get dinner? Or…whatever.”

 

“Gay dates are very similar to straight dates,” Kent said. Carly shook his head at him, but it was fond. “A date!”

 

“A date,” Carly agreed. “And then we go from there.” 

 

Kent considered this. There was a part of him that really wanted to know everything - where was this going? Was this for real? What did the future hold? But that had been what had obsessed him about Jack, thinking about all of those things all of the time. Maybe this was the better approach. Admit you like each other. Go on a date. Talk some more. Take it one thing at a time and check in with each other along the way.

 

“Cool,” he said. 

 

“Cool,” said Carly. He looked down at the floor. “Uh. You wanna still blow me?” 

 

“Aw, big guy,” Kent said, and gave him a shit eating grin. “You know I do.”