The Game
”I have nothing to wear that’s really school pride for you,” Caleb admitted awkwardly. His fingers toyed with the edge of the sweater he was wearing.
“I figured, but I planned for that,” Fjord replied in a warm tone that had shocked him.
Caleb had looked up to see he was digging through his secondary bag for a moment, then pulled out a lump of white and purple. He handed it over and offered an usure but sweet smile. Caleb blinked a few times, then let the material fall loose and roll down. It was a jersey. Old, from what he could tell because it did not match the one he had worn in the pictures from the week before. But it had his number, 83, and above in faded white letters was the word PALOMARES. The man sucked in a quick breath and looked up. Fjord watched him with an unsure gaze, but he was trying to look confident. Maybe it was the intimacy of wearing his specific jersey rather than a generic school one or that Fjord thought to bring it at all, but it made Caleb’s body run hot. After a moment he had turned the jersey round, flipped up his hood, and pulled it on.
DM: SleevesRBS and Widogast
SleevesRBS yo they’re meeting you at the snacks by 101
Widogast Ja, thank-you. Fjord just headed to the locker room.
SleevesRBS omg did the loser really come out to see you
Widogast Sort of, yes.
DM: FjordTough and HeySailor
FjordTough he put it on
HeySailor eyyyyyyyy
HeySailor that’s gayyyyyyy
FjordTough fuck you
HeySailor none of that ur practically taken (͠≖ ͜ʖ͠≖)
DM: HeySailor and ItsYaBoi
ItsYaBoi I take it you approve of Caleb, then?
HeySailor eh hes what cowboy needs
HeySailor 2 old for college chicks n shit
ItsYaBoi I’m glad you like him. I was growing attached and did not feel like giving him up.
ItsYaBoi I wish I had waited for your blessing myself.
HeySailor baaaaaaa none of that shit u fine. U n jes r just 2 diff n that’s ok worked out
HeySailor gotta go but vc tnight
ItsYaBoi Of course.
Fjord had been nervous about this. He had been waiting for a moment to test that fine line. Just nudge it a bit. See at what point could he go too far. And he loved that flip in his chest caused by safe adrenaline. He had become slightly addicted to it after so long suffering from constant rushes deployed. It had been weird to learn that adrenaline rushes could cause an addiction like any other compound overload to the brain. He was proof of that, however. Returning to hockey had tamed it somewhat, but there were times where he wanted to feel that leap. That tug at his stomach and his heart in his throat. He lived for it. and he had found that surge in an unlikely place. In planning on following through with Darrow’s idea.
He and Caleb had yet to mention anything about the kiss. He knew there was a shift. It was almost tangible even though they had not been in the same room since the morning after. It was unspoken but somehow still acknowledged. Darrow suggested the oldest trope of any high school or college jock romance line—give him the jersey to wear. Let him be seen wearing that name at the game. Offer it to him as a way to be his and see what happened.
He had blushed. Fjord loved the way red creeped along Caleb’s face and down his neck. Such a soft shade of crimson that made his already impossibly blue eyes stand out more. For a moment, Fjord feared he would brush it off and not wear it. That he had stepped too far onto the thin ice. But then he slid it on with a shy smile and looked up through his bleached lashed. He even asked, “How does it look,” coyly. Fjord felt his heart beating in his ears. But he looked great, of course he did. He always did.
GAME HOES
SassyWitch okay minor complaint. Why the hell isn’t the game on any local channels
SassyWitch I don’t want to have the app running
SleevesRBS your watchin the game
SassyWitch wanna see fjord play. Amherst is still better
MT fuck you
SassyWitch fuck you
MissJester Awe~ remember when you almost did not like us???
SassyWitch You’ve grown on me
MT ass-trid you need to know that caleb is fucking swimming in this thing
Missjester What thing?
SassyWitch ^^
SoullessWonder Ah, Fjord allowed me to wear his jersey for the match as I have no school attire.
SoullessWonder I did not want to… stand out exactly.
SassyWitch I cannot stress this enough…
SassyWitch P I C T U R E S
“Jesus fuck, guys, took you long enough,” one of the new friends complained as Caleb and Molly joined her.
Keg, as Molly introduced her as, had on a deep purple sweatshirt with the emblem across the front and a black beanie pulled low over her undercut. The school name was embossed on with silver and purple. It was a similar look to the sweatshirt Molly was wearing, black of course, under his faded jean vest that had a number of pins stuck in and patches sewn on. Caleb had wondered idly if he had taken the time to sew each one on. He could picture it, too, with his brow puckered in concentration and maybe even his tongue peaking from his lips. Yasha was next to Keg with a jacket on over her own team sweatshirt. He had learned belatedly that she actually participated in track and field with Javelin and high jump. Her braids were freshly done in a new design and the ombre to white had some blue in it, too, with small cuffs attached. On the other side of her was a smaller girl with a Track and Field jacket on and her curls up. A few others chattered around them.
One girl’s eyes fell on Caleb and they grew wide for a moment. She was an older student, maybe even a graduate, with dark hair and fair skin. She leaned forward between he and Molly to catch his attention.
“You know Fjord,” she stated. He opened his mouth foolishly to ask how she knew when he felt her finger press against the name on his back. “Explains a few things. First game?”
“I… ah…”
“Hopefully, you’re not expecting him to be as sweet on the ice. But that’s the fun of the games.”
There was something wicked yet playful in her voice. She leaned back and was immediately drawn into conversation by a number of men. Admirers, no doubt, as she was objectively beautiful. Caleb just hoped the cold was a good enough excuse for the red rather than the blushing. He looked at Molly, who just snorted and shook his head. A voice over the PA system announced rules and safety of the rink as music started and two teams spilled onto the ice for their stretches. They had decent enough seats, so it was not hard to spot Fjord as he glided past their section at the boards. He looked like a different person—focused and determined. His jaw worked a bit and Caleb realized his mouth guard was lazily hanging at the corner of his mouth. He slowly turned and made eye contact with Caleb and his face lit up. It was going to be a long match.
Caleb (2:08pm): I know nothing about hockey.
Astrid (2:09pm): Oh I am aware lol. What are they doing
Caleb (2:09pm): Warm ups, I think? He’s so graceful.
Caleb learned two things about hockey right away. It was fast paced and exciting, but it was also slow with scores and hard to follow. What he figured out quickly though was Fjord was defense and usually kept further back than his line partner, who pushed forward for shots if it was possible. Fjord was not just large and strong, but fast on the ice with an aggressive body slam that Molly explained was a check. There were also a lot of checks, and not all of them legal. He also learned that it was easy to be pulled into the vicious excitement that came from the violence and energy of the game. It was addicting, especially in a decent sized crowd of people his age who had blindly adopted him into their group because of the jersey.
The first period was slow to start with no goals scored. It gave Molly and Keg plenty of time to explain things over the screams of the crowd and the announcer overhead. A few times, the man felt the panic welling up inside of him with the overstimulation of the rink. Each time, however, he would feel someone, usually Yasha or Molly grip his wrist or knee gently and rub with their icy thumb as they keep talking. He learns about the reasons for the whistles. The significance of a face-off. Penalties and why they count. It was a lot, and most of it he was sure was done to keep him from stressing out more than he already had been. He appreciated it, though. Both the information and the comforting conversation.
The first intermission, he went out to get snacks with Yasha. He had acquired a beanie as he had not thought to bring one of his own to the match and pulled it tight over his ears and hair. Yasha and Rissa both stood comfortably with their jackets open and talked quietly with him about their plans for the holidays. Yasha was apparently headed to the South to see her grandparents right after the New York trip and Rissa, who was from Maine, was lamenting heading further into the cold. They acquired their drinks and snacks, Molly had asked for the “biggest fucking thing of popcorn possible,” which Caleb ate from as a service fee. As they walked, the man felt a shiver run up his spine and turned to see the same Neighbor glaring at him. Yasha turned, too, with a nasty look that made him look away and back to his group.
“Asshole,” Rissa sneered.
The second period was faster. Caleb was almost entranced watching how Fjord skated backwards quickly to track the wingmen as they shot down the ice like bullets. He could feel the rattle of the boards and glass with every hit. There were even a number of times that the crowd collectively inhaled only to watch the other team’s goalie make an incredible save and sigh in disappointment.
It was after one such save that Fjord and the team had a timeout and met at the bench. Caleb noticed for the first time Beau at the bench with her clipboard in hand and a standing next to the coaches with a jacket that matched theirs. As the coach spoke, Caleb watched Fjord pull off his helmet, shake off a glove and run his hand through the hair that was flattened in weird angles. The mouth guard moved from its place and hung half out of his mouth again as his jaws worked and chewed the rubbery material. The man was not sure what exactly was so attractive about watching the other man at that moment, but it only became worse as he used part of his water to drink and the other part to pour over his head and face. He then used the jersey to wipe it from his eyes.
Then, as though he felt Caleb’s eyes on him, the man’s gaze slowly slid to where they sat and he winked. Caleb knew his face was on fire as Fjord grinned and put his helmet back on.
GAME HOES
MT 0-0 still
MT no fights one almost
MT no dirty plays this year
SassyWitch Thank-you
MissJester You are the best~!
DM: NottListening and Widogast
Widogast He is going to be the death of me.
NottListening they warned you he was hot in hockey mode
Widogast Ja. But Molly is also hot when in rock mode, that does not kill my brain as this is currently doing.
Widogast I am also certain he may have staked his claim on me for the match.
NottListening how so?
Widogast I am wearing his old jersey with his name on it.
NottListening omfg are we in high school
NottListening can I drop out again
NottListening are you two going to make out behind the bleachers afterwards
Widogast I do not see how, as they are attached to the wall and cement.
NottListening lol fucking fair
“Hey,” the girl from earlier called as he and Molly returned, this time with drinks. Her name was Lu, he found, and she was one of the swimmers and in theater with Molly. “How are you liking the game.”
“It is not that different from football, ah… soccer, sorry…” Caleb replied, slightly flustered. “Only colder and more contact.”
“And no one whining on the ground for thirty minutes because they bonked their knee,” Molly pointed out brightly as he sat down and immediately had to defend his drink from Keg’s grabbing hands.
Caleb nodded his head in agreement to that, but Lu just smirked.
“Going to come to more,” she asked. It was not exactly invasive, but she seemed uniquely keen on the topic. He’d ask the others more later.
“I hope to, but it is difficult as I am not in the city. When I can, perhaps.”
She said nothing but offered a tight but warm smile. Something in Caleb burned in a way he was not used to. Defensive and possessive. He looked forward and Rissa reached across Molly’s body to prod at the protruding jaw muscle playfully, which only made him flush more.
The third period got interesting. The first was feeling the teams out. The second was an even match of skills. The third started with an assault from the other team pushing into Boston’s territory and firing as many shots on net as possible. Caleb watched as the third line defenders worked to try and clear the puck from their third of the ice, only to watch the defensemen, who were pushed forward to center ice, intercept, and send it back. In fear of icing, their wings and center were pushed to into their zone as well with too many bodies. To move comfortably around. Finally, the goalie dropped over the puck after nearly five minutes of constant shots and movements, getting a whistle and a breather for the team.
A line change. A break for the players and fresh people on the ice. The first string pushed up and managed to keep the puck evenly dispersed. It was a standstill until one of Boston’s players pushed through the defenders. He was small and speedy, not like the other players who comically dwarfed him in the line up for the National Anthem. At the last second, he adjusted his puck and stuck placement and fired low rather than high. It hit the net.
The buzzer went off.
The crowd was on their feet.
Caleb felt a rush like he had not known before in relation to sports. He knew he had cried out, for his throat was scratchy in the aftermath as they sat back down. Small and speedy glided by the bench with soft fist bumps after hugs from the team. But almost immediately the other team answered with their own goal and another two minutes later. He felt foolish, but Caleb also felt the way the seat was digging into his thighs as he had pushed forward. Leaning, after all, was not allowed or at least heavily frowned upon as it blocked the view from higher seats.
Fjord was out now, moving fast. He immediately cut his backward glide short to charge off to the side and check the right wing who had slipped past the center. He cleared the puck and was moving forward when Boston’s own wing who had the puck was slammed in the middle of the ice, sending him flying off his skates and onto the ground with a heavy thud. No whistle was called as the stands grew loud. Caleb could hear Keg, Molly, and a few others yelling at the blatant illegal check. As the chant of “Ref, you suck” started to ripple through the crowd Caleb felt his heart in his throat because Fjord had knocked into the player who had done the offending check and they were now circling each other.
Molly sucked in a breath.
Fjord dropped his stick and gloves. They circled.
Keg tensed with a twisted grin forming. Even Yasha and Rissa were no longer watching the rest of the game. In fact, all eyes seemed to be on the two opposing defensemen.
The other player dropped his glove.
It was like the dam broke. Fjord swung once, then again. Caleb watched slightly slack jawed as they two men started to slam their bare fists into each other. One hand gripping a jersey, the other a pad. All the while the refs watched carefully, and the crowd egged on the fight. Hell, some were even on their feet screaming for more. Fjord was not the bigger main of the pair, but he had the better footing and grip as more hits fell and he tugged lower and lower still before the other man dropped down to the ice and the whistle blew. The men were separated by their teammates before the refs blew the whistle again and led them to their own penalty boxes. Caleb blinked, perplexed at what happened, then looked to Molly for explanation only to find his friend bright-eyed with excitement and cheering.
“Was…” he breathed in confusion. Molly turned and chuckled.
“Fjord won,” he explained without explaining anything. He triumphantly slurped his soda.
“Won…. Was,” he asked carefully, letting his German slip.
“Fucker got away with an illegal hit,” Keg explained as she took the drink from Molly. “Fjord took the matter into his own hands.”
“And… they let that… happen?”
“Fuck yeah, dude,” she exclaimed. “I mean, there are rules and shit. Like the gloves dropping is the issue of a challenge and accepting it. Knees on the ice means the fight is over.”
“So…” Caleb licked his chapped lips and wished he brought his chapstick absently, “because the other guy… touched the ice… Fjord won.”
“Yes.” Molly confirmed.
“But they still got in trouble.”
“Correct.”
“Why…?”
“Because fighting is a penalty, dude.”
Caleb blinked at them and then looked forward. Somehow that made less sense than when he had no answers. His eyes fell on Fjord who had not replaced his helmet and was now back to chewing his mouthguard. He looked up and they made eye contact. His mouth spread into a sheepish smirk and the Texan offered a lazy half-shrug. Caleb could only roll his eyes and smirk. Then, for whatever reason, he felt the desire to lift the jersey just a bit. It caught the other man’s attention, and the shy grin grew into a full smile.
“You two are gross,” Molly complained as he moved to steal some of Caleb’s fries. He squawked and slapped the hand away, earning him a giggle in response.
Caleb realized their goalie, or rather Fjord’s goalie as he was not sure why he had decided to become possessive of the team now, was very skilled. He had fended off yet another onslaught of shots on net for more than half of the five minutes the team was down a defensive player. It was a slow tick of the clock as the game fell in the last 2 minutes of the game and Fjord’s own penalty ticker hit the last ten seconds. When it buzzed at zero, he was out like he had been slung with extra assistance for one of the wings had slipped past the center and other defense and was baring down on the goalie unchallenged with another teammate following as backup. Fjord disrupted the play and cornered him against the boards with a slam that dropped the man to the ice. The puck ran behind the net along the boards and was picked up by Fjord’s fellow defenseman.
He passed up to the center, then to the right wing who crossed the puck in front of the next, getting a hiss of complaint from Molly before it was shot in low. Again, the crowd was on their feet. Tied with two minutes left.
“Plenty of time,” Rissa crowed as she was tugged into a hug from Yasha.
GAME HOES
MT 2-2 2:07
MissJester U G H so close~
HeySailor hope they wont do a shootout
HeySailor aint won a single one this season
MT 55 is on ice we should eb good
Fifty-five was the small player from before. The line changed and Fjord was off the ice, yet the whole bench was leaning on each other and the boards as they watched. Two then three missed shots on their net before the goalie caught the puck and earned a face-off. A head nod. A change in who took the face off. The whistle. The clink of the puck on ice before the solid clack of it sent toward Boston’s right defense who redirected it to fifty-five, and the small player was off again. The puck sailed in and he was swarmed but the bench seemed tense. Caleb looked around at the crowd who was now all watching hard. He blinked. It was such a strong contrast between the stillness of the stands now and the jumping and hugging on the ice.
“Why less celebration,” he whispered.
“Remember how fast they scored two,” Rissa offered as she leaned back. Caleb only nodded. “We still have a minute left. That’s enough for one or two goals. They get one…”
Molly hiss at her to not jinx it.
“… and it’s a shootout. They lost their best shot last year when he graduated, so it’s been a mess their last few third period ties.”
Caleb made an O with his mouth soundlessly and looked forward again as the whistle blew.
GAME HOES
SleevesRBS SUCK IT VISITING TEAM
SleevesRBS FUCKING SUCK DICK
ItsYaBoi Alas, for you don’t have one.
SassyWitch from Caleb’s string of messages, I guess they won
SleevesRBS fuckin 55 the fuck got one last one in at like twenty seconds
SleevesRBS little freshman shit
MissJester !!!!! YAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
ItsYaBoi Y’all waiting for Fjord now?
SleevesRBS I am
SleevesRBS and caycay, I rushed out to meet him but molls and Yasha have shit to do so they headed off with riz
NottListening ran into the back to say congrats fjord! Okay back to work!
Astrid (4:33pm): Ask if they play us this year
Caleb (4:33pm): You would like to come to a game?
Astrid (4:33pm): I’d like to hang out with everyone
Caleb (4:34pm): You could have just asked. I would have brought you with me.
Astrid (4:34pm): I guess
Caleb (4:34pm): How about we all go to Dave and Busters when we’re back from the holidays then? Maybe if Wulf can behave it will be a good place for him to meet them as well.
Caleb (4:35pm): If not, I am sure they would love to meet you in person.
Astrid (4:37pm): Jessy knows I’m sorry I can’t do NYC right?
Caleb (4:37pm): Of course. She knows it’s a family trip.
Astrid (4:38pm): K. Stop messaging me, don’t you have a hot man to watch for
“Fucking took him long enough,” Beau complained with an eyeroll.
Caleb’s head snapped up in time to see Fjord walking out talking to a few of the players. Beau had come out right after the talk with coach so he would not have to wait alone. They both were posted against the same wall on their phones, but it seemed her head had been on a swivel while Caleb tried to remain small. But Fjord approached with one of the centers who towered over him impossibly with a broad, imposing frame and the smaller freshman who had scored two goals. He was in conversation, but the larger man elbowed him a few times with a good-natured grin and Fjord looked up and in the direction he had indicated with a smile. Caleb could tell the exact moment his eyes fell upon him for they warmed up and that same smile spread on his face.
It was not difficult for the three to cut through the crowd. Fjord looked like he had maybe showered after the meeting with his hair still damp and sticking up at strange angles rather than slicked back or weighed down. Caleb stood up straight from the wall as the taller man approached and allowed himself to be pulled into a hug. His face burned as eyes fell on him more with the team jacket name on one man matching the jersey name on the other, though the most common look was one of jealousy or bored interest. When they stepped back, Fjord’s hand stayed on his shoulder and Caleb did not pull away.
“You must be Caleb,” the taller man stated in a laconic way, so he nodded. “Prast and the small one is our player of the day Wyatt.”
The small freshman with large ears and brown hair waved awkwardly like he was still adjusting to the praise of the team. Caleb nodded at them both.
“We’re heading out, Palo see you Monday,” Wyatt muttered softly before ducking past and heading toward the doors. “Nice meeting you. He and Beau talk about you a lot.”
Prast eyed them with a look of calculating warmth before following suit. Beau started to follow when Caleb asked if she were not staying with them.
“Nah, my guy, you two go get food or whatever. I have a paper to finish.”
They watched for a moment. Then, Fjord turned to Caleb and gave a small huff in laughter. “Well I’m half starved. A beer and food before you head back?”
“Ja, that sounds great,” Caleb replied.
His heart was beating fast at the prospect of time with just Fjord. As much as he loved the group as a whole, all of the time he had spent in person with the man recently had been entirely in the company of at least two others. It was selfish to want time with him personally, but Caleb also could not help it. There was a new edge, a flirtatious and teasing one, that he wanted to explore in person. The man had already noted Fjord was a more private person than most when it came to advances and comments that were not platonic. Caleb hoped that by being alone, some may come out in person. They left the rink talking about the people Caleb had met in the stands. Fjord’s hand never left Caleb’s back.
SICK OF THIS SHIT
ItsYaBoi So?
MT nada
MT he’s pissed at himself because he chickened out
SleevesRBS goddammit
MT in his defense this time fucking Enzo nearly slammed his door into the car I guess
SleevesRBS fucking christ I guess forgiven
HeySailor am I gonna have 2 come up n beat a bitch
SleevesRBS please
MT please
DarkAngel Please.
DM: FjordTough and Widogast
Widogast I made it home, but I am afraid I forgot to return the jersey. I honestly forgot I had it on at all.
FjordTough nah its fine you can keep it
Widogast Keep? Are you quite positive?
FjordTough yeah I am. Now you have something of mine for the next game you see
Widogast Ah, but what makes you so confident that I wish to watch another game?
FjordTough maybe that was my fortune cookie
Widogast Hm.
Widogast Perhaps I shall think about it. Good night, Fjord. I am glad I went.
FjordTough night Cay and me too
DM: FjordTough and TeaLeaf
TeaLeaf stop smiling.