Loud singing reverberated from the locker room showers. Loud, obnoxious singing. Steam made it's way out into the players' dressing area, where most of the guys were winding down after practice.

"Damn, Skip sure sounds happy today," Jason said loudly to anyone who was willing to listen. Mostly everyone was.
"Figure he would be. Lucky bastard," Mack said as he pulled off his sweaty undershirt and made for his trousers, "Heard he'd been waiting awhile for the big you-know," he cocked an eyebrow back at Jason. Laughter from those who knew. Strange looks from those who didn't.

"Maybe we should make him captain, huh boys?" Shawn entered the room from the shower, wet towel clinging to the last of what one could rightfully call his hips. He motioned back behind him towards Skip's operatic wailing.
"Hell, the guy's already a captain from what I heard," Josi smirked, "He tell any of you guys?" An instant flock around the defenseman.
"Well, we were warming up at the blue line and he says to me, 'Hey Jo, last night was a lucky night. Save I can't skate too big a' strides. Hey, ya ever tried it with-'," his storytelling was immediately washed out by loud, hysterical laughter.
"Hey, what the hell are you guys talking about?" Sampson, one of the more 'respectable' players for the Kings asked over at them. Obviously, Sampson was not a part of the 'group'.
"Pro-creation, Sampson. Something you know little about I'm sure," Shawn joked.

"Pro-creation? What the hell would they be creatin' I wonder?!" someone added. More laughter. A joke was made about sore asses in relation to some sort of team disadvantage and by then a couple of guys were rolling on the floor.
"Those rocker boy types," Mack added, "I guess they really know how to-
"My side, you bitches! Shut up, shut up!" Jason was against his locker, holding his stomach and laughing so hard he was fighting back tears.
"You guys are f*ckin' weird," McTyren said to his teammates as he passed with a smile and a shake of his head, making for the showers. Shawn gave him a whistle. This amused the entire room, even if they hadn't been listening before.
"Sweet ass, McTyren!" Jason called after him. The poor right winger was so embarrassed he nearly tripped heading into the stall. More heckling, and now from the entire team.
"Can't I just get on a normal team for once?" Sampson grumbled as he packed up. He'd take his shower at home.

"What'd you guys do to poor Mc T?" Skip asked as he walked in, toweling off his hair. No one said anything to him. They were just grinning at him like idiots.
"What?" he smiled and headed for his locker next to Mack's.
"Jo told us," Jason said as everyone looked at him.
"Did he?"
"About the...two for one special?" Shawn could barely get it out without laughing.
"Well, gentlemen, I'll have you know it's true. I couldn't do runs for sh*t today. Coach was all, 'You strain yourself over the weekend, boy? Why're ya skatin' like a penguin?" Skip's impression of the coach was dead-on.
"Leave it to Skip to dare the impossible," Mack said.
"Someone hasn't been to enough end-of-season parties," Jason jeered. Shawn gave him a surprised look. Jason shrugged, guilty as charged.
Shawn then decided they needed better discussion content and went into captain mode, "Ok, boys. We should be talking about the playoffs. I want Jason and O'Guire to stay late today with me, we're gonna work on passing. Coach did a sh*tty job of introducing the new play."
Eventually everyone calmed down and everyone made their ways home.

Skip waited outside on the front steps of the Coliseum for Scott. This was the first time he'd really been alone to think about the happenings from the night before. Sure the sex had made him incredibly happy, but he couldn't seem to shake the image of that letter in Scott's hand from his mind.
"F*ck," he sighed. He was going to end up being forgotten. Again. Sure, teams were different. Parting was inevitable and everyone knew they had 6 months to do whatever and then it was over. But this was entirely different. What was he going to do? And not just about them, but what if no college team decided they wanted him? That meant another winter back here in Omaha with the Kings, which was great except for the fact that it lessened his chances of becoming a draft anywhere. The only way he'd ever hoped to make anything of himself was through hockey. And now that a couple of his teammates were already being selected for universities, he was starting to worry.

This conflicted with the way he liked to think. Kate was right. He needed to get his sh*t together, and maybe start preparing himself mentally just in case things didn't end up working out.

Scott met him as soon as he got into the car with a deep kiss, not even giving Skip enough time to shut the door. Their mouths playfully made for more dangerous territory as some random guitar solo on the radio made for background noise. Scott finally broke it off.
"I'll never be able to win against you, will I?" Scott heaved and Sam shut the door, his cheeks pink from excitement.
"You can try, but I doubt it." He waited until they were out and into traffic before bringing up current events.
"So, excited about next year? Get to stay in town and everything."
"...Why don't you just say it?" Scott looked over at him.
"Say what?"
"That you don't think it's gonna work after summer happens."
"Well, I don't want to sound negative, but once I'm gone I'm sure I'll eventually fade out of the picture. Over time, I mean," Sam reasoned.
"Would you stop it with the dramatics? Dude, Cadey and I wouldn't be able to forget you if we tried. Sorry man, but you've done way too much damage. Besides, if it hadn't been for you then Caden and I wouldn't even be together."
"Nor would you ever be I'm willing to bet. You were so pathetic," Skip recalled.
"It'll work bro...we'll make it."
The only thing Skip could think to follow up with was, ".......I'm really sore."
"I'll bet."

-

Scott had never told me he'd applied to Herring. I don't know why. Maybe because at the time we had still just been friends and he didn't want to seem overbearing. But this left us with the problem of Skip. How could we ever hope to keep up with his life? If he was selected to a college somewhere he'd be constantly on the road, and say he got drafted to the NHL? He'd be as elusive as Dad. Part of me felt extremely jealous. I'm sure I don't have to tell you that he attracts people like flies and I'm sure the dude breaks a lot of hearts without even knowing it. So what if we were in love? It wasn't going to change something he'd been working his whole life for. He was going to move on. Without us.

***

It was very early on a Saturday morning when my phone rang. I took it off the charger and blindly answered without looking as to who it might be. It was Pat Gobel.
"D-dad?" I sat up, surprised. There were only a couple reasons he could be calling me. Either there had been an accident of some sort or he and Mom talked and he'd finally found whatever it was a man like him needed to summon up to call me.
"I'm on my way to New York right now. To see Kevin."
"Wh......you're what?" I ran cold all over.
"Kate told me. I can't say I want to believe it. Son, I'm sorry." I'd never heard Dad apologize to me, seriously anyway.

"Dad, don't apologize. But..what are you gonna do?"
"What can I do? You want me taking something like this to the police? Just imagine the mess."
"Not to mention it wouldn't make you look too good either."
"I don't care about that...I'm going to New York to kick his ass and withdraw him from school. Then I'm gonna have him committed somewhere. I don't want him near you or Josh ever again." He was completely serious.
I was silent. There was nothing to add.
"But on the other hand, maybe I should have you committed somewhere as well."
Oh sh*t. I wanted to hang up the phone.
"Scott's a good looking kid and all, but Skip? I thought you always said you weren't into athletes."
"You must think I'm completely stupid."
"Oh, I do. And trust me, you're lucky I'm many miles from home right now. But your Mother's running things. I'll let her run it her way. Besides, she tells me it doesn't sound like you boys are really that serious anyway."
"We are serious! Why doesn't anyone believe us?!"
"....Save that talk for your Mother, son. You really know how to make a guy uncomfortable."
"...Sorry."


Dad really did it too. Kevin quietly disappeared from NY State with no questions asked. From what I heard he was later was placed in some facility up in Buffalo. Thank goodness there's no more of him to talk about. He's history.


It was about this time that Skip began going into what he called his 'playoff phase'. Supposedly he goes into it every year. His workouts get longer, he's up earlier, and basically annoying the hell out of all of us with his 'focus on the game'. I walked into his room one day to find him on the floor doing crunches, Scott lazily keeping count as he marveled at Sam's glistening torso.
"46, 47, 48....58.... Iunno," Scott ogled Skip with a smitten look.
"Damn it....Scott," Skip panted, "The least you can do is keep count! Cadey, count for me will ya? He keeps spacing out and gawking at me like an idiot."
So I had to sit there and keep track of Skip's crunches. I tried my best, but I soon saw what Scott's problem had been. When Skip got tired he'd give out these little grunts to keep himself going, and well, I lost count too. He must've done at least a hundred or so while we drooled over him.

"Boys?" Mom was at the door. She raised an eyebrow.
"They're keeping count," Skip explained in heavy breaths.
"...Whatever," she shook her head, "Dinner's ready."
Early mornings he'd go out and run. The cold never bothered him. Feet of snow never bothered him. The guy was out there no matter what. I figured he must really love his sport, considering he was usually exhausted by the time he was ready to go to practice.
"It's conditioning," he'd say. Mom had told us no sex while everyone was home. Well, you can imagine how well that ended up working out for us. Scott's room ended up being our play place of sorts since it was furthest from all the other bedrooms. I was creeping across the hall one night with a pillow and my Mega Pink 500 when Skip came up the stairs looking as if he'd died, bag strewn over his shoulder and hair a complete mess.
"Eh?" I shook the vibe at him as if he were a dog and it were his favorite toy. Normally Skip would have been way ahead of me, ears up and ready to play. But he just looked at me, the toy, and wearily shook his head no.
"Uh-uh," he said sadly.

"Wow, you must really be close to dead or something."
"...You have no idea."

However, he did find time to come with us to watch Josh's final playoff game against the Lightning. The Steam lost. Big time. We had to keep Skip from climbing the glass a few times, but he did make a good replacement for Dad not being there.
"I don't think I wanna play hockey anymore," Josh said as we all piled into the van afterwards.
"Honey, I thought you liked playing," Mom insisted.
"Yeah, but...I'm tired of losing all the time."
"You know Josh, when I was your age I was stuck on losing teams too," Skip said from the backseat between Scott and me.
"Really?" Josh turned.
"All the time. But I knew I was a good player and so I didn't let it bother me. Eventually I got noticed. You'll get your chance, bud. If you like it stick with it. It'll pay off."
Scott glanced over at me as Skip was giving his motivational speech. He then moved a gloved hand onto Sam's leg. Skip glanced down and moved his fingers over Scott's. I gave Skip a jab in the side.

"Gimme a break, it's been almost two weeks," he said to me. I looked to Mom in the front mirror. Her eyes were on the road. Scott shifted and looked out the window, moving his hand upward. Skip hurried him to it.
-

"I can't! Our big first game is tomorrow!" Skip laughed as Scott and I pinned him down to the office room bed. Scott's long dark hair grazed Skip's chest as he bent over him and delivered a needy kiss. After this I didn't really need to hold Sam down anymore.
"You smell so good," Skip purred as Scott pushed his hair back behind him and resituated on top of Sam's lap. He slowly peeled his shirt off, arms crossed, and Skip's hands were soon all over him.
"I don't know what to tell ya," Scott said as Sam slowly unfastened his boyfriend's belt, "Cuz I'm gonna totally wear you out."

***

'Ladies and Gentlemen, thanks for tuning in to 811 AM for Sports Night here on WGHR. Tonight it's King's Hockey, as the team enters it's first tournament playoff game with an impressive 21-9 season. They'll be facing off tonight against the New England Seabeasts, a fan favorite amongst the Eastern Division. The winner of tonight's game will proceed to round two of the playoffs, with the final championship game on the 25th in Minneapolis. Here's tonight's lineup for both teams...'

"I need a barf bag."
"Dude, it's ok, deep breaths...they'll do fine."
"What if he breaks something? What if they lose?" Scott was in a panic as we waited for the puck to drop.
"You know Skip. He's plenty capable of handling whatever gets thrown his way...and usually he ends up working things out to his advantage."
"I know. I hate that," Scott rocked a little, impatient for the start of the game.
We watched our home team skate out to center ice. If the guys won tonight, the billet families would be caravanning to Sioux Falls for round two. Playoffs are always important to the families. Work, school, and everything else is set aside once the finals get underway. Not only did I want to see Skip win, but a few days off from school and a road trip would also be nice. I know it sounds selfish, but hey, that's what I was thinking.

"He still looks cute...you know, despite all that padding," Scott admired Sam as he strode out onto the circle.
"Sure does," I nodded. I looked over the starting line. It was a good one. I still don't know much about hockey, but when you watch the same 20 guys every week you start to catch on with who's good and who isn't. Jason, Shawn, Skip, McTyren, and Sampson on the ice. O'Guiere at the net.
"Nice lineup," I heard Mom say from the end, "As long as they've got Thompson and Kiefer together on the second line."

The first period nobody scored. The second period was the same. By the time the third came around we were all quite stressed out. Jason skated by as his teammates were stretching. He gave us a friendly sneer. I rolled my eyes.
"Hey jackass! Score one for me!" Scott yelled loud enough so that he'd be heard through the glass. Jason turned and skated back to us.
"Oh yeah?! And what do I get if I do?!" He called.
Scott opened his mouth to speak, then realized there was an entire crowd of people around us. He rethought his words, "You get...a spot in round two Jase! Do it for your team!"
"What-ever!...So are you boys doing anything after the game?!....OW!" Skip had smacked him in the back of the head as he'd gone by. As we sat back down it was needless to say that everyone in our section was looking at us.

At 17:23 Jason scored the only and winning goal of the game. The Kings were going to Sioux Falls.

After it was over there was a big celebration at the clubhouse. Jason was all too quick to find us.
"Well?" Jason cheezed, "You know, the locker room is pretty much emptied out."
"Would you just shut up?" I smiled and gave him a brief kiss on the lips. Scott's jaw dropped.
"Caden, you did not just do that!" Scott was in disbelief that I would do such a crazy thing.
Skip came up to us, "He's a bad egg, you'll catch something."
Jason was blinking at me, speechless.
"Win the next one, ok?" I encouraged heartily. He just nodded and went off.
"I think you've motivated him," Skip smiled down at me and gave me a short slip of the tongue. If anybody noticed, no one said anything.
"We're gonna shred the Huskers!!" Somebody yelled. And shred them the Kings would certainly hope to do.


"Mom! I can't find my extra socks!" Josh screamed across the hall.
"Check your suitcase honey!"
It was suddenly an exciting time at the Gobel residence. We were packing it up and heading to Iowa. And if the Kings won again we were trucking on the Minnesota. At longest, we'd be away from home for two weeks. I packed everything I'd need, including a sketch pad. I know sounds dorky, and it probably is, but I wanted to do a lot of drawing while I was away on the trip. It'd be the last time I'd be able to see Skip play for awhile.

"So are you gonna pack it?" Scott's head peeked around the corner into my room.
"Pack what?" I asked, glancing at him. I tried to act ignorant but it didn't work.
"Don't play stupid. You wanna use it on the road?"
"It's too loud. We'd never get away with it."
"Kate says we're getting our own room."
"Probably next door. No way...Josh'll be traumatized," I reached around and pulled the Mega Pink out from under my pillow. I sighed.

"....I can't believe I'm gonna do this."


The convoy of Kings cars all met up at the Coliseum for the day-long trip. Josh had gone crazy that morning the with car paint foam. We could barely get inside the van, and once we did, seeing out the windows proved difficult. A few of the 'Go Kings' had to come off the windshield.
"I'll see you guys once we get there," Skip hugged Mom, then Josh, then Scott and me. I snuck him a quick nip on the neck.
"I wish you were like this more often," Sam smiled to me, then headed for the bus. It was true. Near the end I was finally starting to let the other two rub off on me.
The trip East wasn't too bad. Time went by surprisingly fast, and once we got there it was already dinnertime. The staff treated the team and families in the hotel's restaurant. We had a blast.

It was when Jason told me his room number that I realized we were probably staying on the same floor as the team. Mom and Josh at the end of the hall in 701, Scott and I next door in 703. And a whole lotta Kings on the rest of the floor.
"This is gonna be one crazy ass night," Scott said to me with a laugh as we made bailed out early, making our way to our room through the front hall.
"Nah, it couldn't get that out of hand. I mean, these guys all have their families here. Maybe they're not all staying on the seventh floor like we are, but I'm willing to bet they'll all probably behave..."
As I said this Shawn rushed past us. With him were a couple younger players. They were B-lining it for the elevators. The team captain grinned back at us, giving a double thumbs up.

"Yeah, Caden. I'm sure it'll be a real quiet evening."
I felt my eyebrow give a nervous twitch.

...Go Kings.

***

I think Shawn had inspired me.
"Cadey?" Scott blinked as I was stripping myself down inside our room that night.
"What?" I smiled, "Time is precious."
"That it is," Scott was pleased. I climbed up onto the bed and got onto my back, making myself comfortable with plenty of pillows behind me. I stroked myself as I watched him undress and then search his suitcase for some oil. When he found it he came over me and lined up. I took the bottle from him as he slid in and used a bit on myself.
"Don't go easy on me," I said.
"Trust me, I won't."

We were kissing, Scott roughly grinding into me when Skip came in.
"NO FAIR!" he yelled and quickly began to undress. Sam came up at bedside and waited for Scott to stop kissing me so he could start.
"How's Scott doing, Cadey? Is he f*ckin' ya good?" He asked me. I nodded up at him, trying to concentrate on my breathing.
"He must be doing good, look at this," I felt Skip's hand move in around me. He pulled it a couple times as we kissed and I wanted to die from the pleasure. Then he went back around behind Scott.
"You two were so quiet I didn't hear a thing in the hallway," Skip congratulated us as he swiped the oil from the bed and made ready. He got Scott to stop moving and I patiently waited as Skip entered him, rubbing his ass as he did so. As soon as the three of us got started the quiet streak ended. Big time. Skip was smiling, pushing his moans into the side of Scott's neck.
"Not so fast!" Scott gasped at him.
"Harder," I begged up at Scott. He came down over me, pressing our bodies together and did just that. Skip stayed upright. An hour flew by. Naturally, we'd forgotten ourselves. I had Scott in my mouth and Skip inside me when there was a knock on the door. I froze. Skip pulled out of me and went to see who it was.
"It's just Jason," he said before opening up.

"I could hear balls slapping somebody's ass all the way down the hall," I heard him say.
"Ssh get in here."
Jason was now in the room, smiling at us as if it were nothing new, "Hiya."
"What do you want? Can't you see we're busy?" Skip smirked to his friend.
"We're all outta lube in 725. I decided to just follow the moans and screams. Say, you guys might wanna move it down there with us. There's no one but us guys at the other end of the hall."
"Who's down there?"
"It's me, Shawn, Mack, Muren, Kiefer, Josi,......McTyren."
"Finally got McTyren, eh?" Skip asked. Meanwhile Scott shoved himself back into my mouth.
"We'll leave you guys alone, it just might be a little safer is all."
"Ok. We'll be down. Save us a bed though," Skip handed Jason a bottle and Jason quickly exited.

"Are you crazy?" Scott asked Sam as he moved into me, "We don't even know them."
"You'll like it Scott. Caden, whadaya say?"
"Mmnph!"
"I'll take that as a yes."

We snuck down the hall to 725. Of course, I brought my Mega Pink with me along with some other stuff in an emptied out bag of mine. Once we were outside of the door we listened. It didn't sound like there was even anyone awake, yet after we were let in we found ourselves completely mistaken. The guys were all quietly at work. We stepped around a pair on the floor as we entered. The two younger players we had seen with Shawn were on the first bed, with their captain coaching them. The top was trying his best to please his partner. From the look on his face it was obviously his first time.
"Knew you had it in you, McTyren," Skip said to him. The guy was way too embarrassed to acknowledge Sam, but he kept on moving. Jason was on the loveseat with a player I had never seen before.
The three of us took the back bed. At first Scott and I were terrified but Skip told us to just relax. We eventually returned to what we'd been doing earlier. I hated to admit it, but it was a lot of fun. The Mega Pink 500 stole the show.

"Hey Caden," Shawn called over to me. The super jock and I had never really talked before this, "Can I...try that?"
"Sure, as long as you clean it," I smirked.
"I wanna try it too," Jason insisted. I tossed it over to them and the two began fighting over it.
"Guys, if you're gonna fight, do it quietly. And don't break it," I said. The two jocks completely ignored me. Shawn had one end of the toy, Jason the other. When two more Kings started fighting over my vibrator I had to step in.
"HEY!" I was across the room, breaking the guys apart, "Everybody shut up!! And don't break it!!" I snatched my beloved Mega Pink away as I scolded them. The guys were shocked. They just stared at me.

"...He always like this?" Shawn asked Skip behind me.
"Cute, isn't it?"
"....Let's get him," Jason smiled.
I was ambushed.

***

".....Caden?"
".........Yeah?"
"You awake?" Skip's voice.

Sunlight poured in through the hotel window. My head was spinning.
"Skip?" I tried to move, but felt myself sandwiched, "Oh no," I muttered.
"It's late," I saw Skip stand up by the window. He'd fallen asleep on the floor, "We've got 15 minutes until morning practice."
"Guys.... hey guys," I shoved Shawn who was curled up next to me. Scott burrowed his head into my back, refusing to be disturbed. Shawn groggily opened his eyes and looked at me a moment before giving the cheesiest smile ever.
"So...," he said to me.
I cut him off, "You guys are late."


"...Oh sh*t! Everybody get up!!! NOW!!" The team captain flew into a panic, "We're gonna miss morning drills!!"
The room became a whirlwind of guys fighting for their clothes. Skip was taking his time. Scott sat up next to me and gave me a kiss on the neck as I watched the team run around like idiots.
"My shoe! Anyone seen my shoe?" Jason called.
"Try under the bed," Scott purred to him in his morning voice.
"We'd better get out of here too," I said. We got dressed and tried to stay out of the way.

"I'm nervous," Skip admitted to us as we stood for a moment in the hallway.
"Well, Skip, the best advice I can give you is to follow your own. Don't think about it too much," I slapped him on the back, "Last night was fun. Thanks."
"Hey, don't thank me."
"See you, boys," Shawn and Jason said to us as they hurried past. Scott and I returned to our room undiscovered.



-

"Ok guys, hands in."
The team gathered together in the locker room.
"Everybody well knows that this could be our last game we ever play together," Shawn stated, "So I want everybody to make the most of it. I want you guys to play for your team tonight."
Jason looked at Shawn. He remembered when they'd first met back in October. Where had the time gone? When their eyes met Jason nodded to him. They had to win this game. There was more at stake than just the Kings.
-


Watching the guys take the ice that night was really weird. In a way I almost felt like a groupie or something. I mean, we'd followed them here, and now Scott and I had slept with quite a few of the members. I did my best to brush that thought aside. The guys looked incredibly nervous, and it ended up showing in the first period as they were down by two. Iowa was faster, more aggressive. It seemed that the game had already been pre-determined. They couldn't lose. Because as soon as the season ended we had to think about losing Skip. It was important that they win. Very important.

-

"And that's all I can really say to you gentlemen. I know you've got far more heart than this. Don't let your nerves get to you now, when you've come this far," the Kings' coach didn't seem a bit frazzled, "I've got faith in you boys."
With that, he left the team to recuperate for another five minutes.
"Oh, Skip. I need ta see you a moment," he called over his shoulder. Everyone looked at Sam.
Skip hesitantly got up and made for the hall.




"I know now might not be the best time, but I figure I'd better tell you this so you know."

".....What is it?" Sam's pulse was at a mile a minute. As if playing this game weren't enough stress on it's own.

The coach took a deep breath, "It's about...your future."

***

"What about my future?", Skip asked intently as the five minute buzzer sounded out on the rink.

"Well Sam, I'm not really supposed to tell you this but...State is here."

"What?...You mean Iowa State?"

"Nope, Penn State."

Skip felt his heart fly up into his chest, "You're serious?"
"Yep. Scouts made the trip out to watch. They're tellin' me they like you."
"Coach...why are you telling me this right now? I already feel like I'm gonna puke as it is," Skip asked shakily, putting his hands to his stomach.
"This is your chance Sam and I don't want you to blow it." Skip looked queasy.
The old man beamed and then added, "I just knew someone big was gonna come snatch ya up."
"I....," Skip stammered. The two minute buzzer.
"Just relax. You'll be fine," the coach put a hand on Skip's shoulder.
"I...," the Kings emerged from the locker room behind them.

"Skip, you're on, let's go!" Shawn called.
"Well, go on," the Coach gave Sam a little shove.
"I...think...I'm gonna be sick," Skip covered his mouth and took off past his team back into the lockers.
"Coach, what'd you do?" Shawn asked, annoyed.
"Kid's just nervous. Get your ass out on that ice!"

-


"Where's Sam? I don't see him," I said to Scott as the players prepared for the second period.
"I don't see him either. Think he got injured or something?"
"He was fine when he last left. I wonder what's going on?" I looked to the player's entrance. No Sam.
"I dunno. Maybe he's just puking or something..."


-

Skip's #8 jersey laid on the floor outside the bathroom stall. He wretched yet again as the two minute buzzer echoed through the bathroom.
"Sh*t!...Gotta stop...puking....and get out there! Bbb..bleehh!!"

Penn State. That was in Pennsylvania.
Pennsylvania was a hell of a long way from Nebraska.

"Caden," Skip heaved, squinting his eyes tightly shut. When the vomiting stopped, the tears shortly followed.
"Damn it," Skip pressed his forehead to the toilet seat, "This is so...f*cking...," he hastily pushed back his tears. He was supposed to be happy about this.

Leaving was reality. It was going to happen. And soon. Skip slammed a fist against the side of the bathroom stall. The entire foundation shook.
"F*CK!!" Skip screamed.

By the time he was able to recompose it was already five minutes into the period. Sam hurried out to the bench, his entire team shouting at him.
"Quiet Ladies!! Why don't you keep your eyes on the game?!" the Coach yelled before giving a short nod to Skip who nodded back, eyes still a bit bloodshot.

-

"There he is," Scott squinted, "Man, he looks like a mess. I think he was just probably puking."
"Sam," I sighed. Looking at him sitting there all hunched up made something in my stomach turn. Something was the matter. I could feel it. When the Coach called for him to go out on the ice, one of his teammates had had to smack him on the back of the helmet to get him going. But once he got out there he quickly redeemed himself. He and Jason ran another one of their crazy plays and it actually pulled through. And with under a minute left in the second, Sampson managed to sneak one past 'em. The Kings had held Iowa and it was now a tie game. 2-2.
"Well," Mom said as she got up and stretched, "Now's a good time as any to get completely plastered. Watch Josh, will ya?"
"Sure thing, Mom."
"They are SO gonna win!" Josh was stirring in his seat next to me as we waited through the last intermission. The three of us watched the Zamboni slowly coast by, cleaning and refreezing the rink.
"Can't they just get it over with?" Scott sighed, looking at the time clock. We had fifteen minutes of waiting until the final period. I wanted to talk to Skip. But that wasn't going to happen.

'Hang in there. Just one more period to go. I know you guys can do it.'
I was hoping for the best.



After a few more minutes of watching the clock I began to space out. There was only one thing to do to make the time go by faster:
Have a flashback.

_

Jason sneered down at me as he turned on my Mega Pink 500. I had managed to break up the fight for my beloved toy last night but somehow had ended up being the new target. Scott and Skip had also joined in with securing me to the bed.
"Wow, this thing really goes. Muren, oil please," Jason ordered. Skip rubbed my chest and gave me a reassuring smile.
"This is all your fault," I looked up at him.
"Don't act like you're not loving this," Skip grinned. I felt a couple more sets of hands begin to rub me over. Someone was gently rolling my nipples.
"Hey, I thought you guys were the ones fighting over it," I tried to negotiate, "Why waste the batteries on me?" I didn't really trust Jason to be all that gentle.
"To get you to shut up," Jason responded.
"Eeh!" I hadn't expected him to tease, but was he ever good at it. So good it was embarrassing, and he didn't even have to put it in. I was laughed at for coming so much.
"Damn, Caden. Hope there's more where that came from," Shawn smiled over me.
"Uhhh," I stared dumbly up at him.

McTyren was nominated to be next with the Mega Pink, of course after I nagged them to clean it first. He shyly got over it as Mack stuck it to the floor. Jason made sure he went down completely each time, and ended up having to cover his mouth. I watched all this happen as Skip and Scott gave Shawn consent to spend some time with me. After getting the 'yes' he quickly scooped me up and urged me to sit down on his lap. I just looked at him. The guy was ridiculously attractive. Probably too attractive for my taste.

"Go ahead, it's cool," he said, holding my waist. I gawked down at what I was to try and fit inside me. The guy had a total jock cock. Big, thick, and beautiful.
"What's the matter?" Shawn asked me as I tossed some of my hair behind my shoulder to get a better look.
"I think you're bigger than Scott," I blinked. Scott heard his name mentioned.
"Who's bigger than me?" he called.
"Nobody," I shushed him as I quickly sat. Shawn leaned his head back against the wall, "Veery nice," he smiled sweetly at me. We kissed.
"Hey, easy on the tongue there Cadey," I heard Skip jeer at us. He had Muren's legs braced up against his shoulders, the rookie beneath him was moaning like a girl. Someone said something about it and that got a round of laughs.

The next I remember seeing the Mega Pink it was with Kiefer, the guy I'd never met, and Josi was using it on him. Jason got jealous and Kiefer's turn was cut short so he could finally have his turn. Jason went into the bathroom and stuck it to the top of the closed toilet seat. Scott ended up in there with him, and the two nearly got us in trouble for being so loud. I think everyone got a chance with the MP500 if I remember right. Shawn was the last one to get his hands on it, and I got to do the honors.
"So, when I'm in town next year...," Shawn smiled up at me as he gasped for air, exhausted. He never found it within him to finish.

-

"Hey bro? Earth to Caden," Scott waved a hand in front of my face.
"Sorry...was just thinking about last night," I murmured. Scott drew a grin and moved a hand in front of his face.
"What was last night?" Josh asked me.
"Just a little party."
"Come on boysh!! Let's hold 'em!! Woooo!!" Mom hollered as she plopped back down beside us with a beer, "You know, I think they're really gonna do it."
"Me too," I said. In the back of my mind I hoped I was right.

***

The mood in the Kings locker room was somber. Quiet. Everyone had finally run out of things to say by this point. The only thing left to do now was play the last twenty minutes as best they could and hope things went their way.
"How ya feelin?" Jason plopped down next to Shawn who was sitting alone in the corner.
"...Alright," he gave a nod, and then directed his gaze to the floor.
"You've got too many gears turnin' right now. I can tell."
Shawn took a moment before deciding to bring it up. Something he'd been wanting to talk about with Jason since he'd received the news last month, "So...excited about going to Boston next year?"
Jason gave him an odd look, "That's next year. I'm a little more concerned about what's happening right now. With us."
Shawn looked over at him, "You know, New York's not that far."
"Nope," Jason realized it was a mistake to have sat down with him. Now wasn't the time to start getting all choked up about parting ways. He stood back up and stretched, "It's not far at all. Neither is the end of this game. You should put your head back in it."
"...Yeah."

Jason gave Shawn a slap on the shoulder and headed for the door, "Hey Skip?"
"Yeah?" Sam looked up from re-taping his stick. He was halfway ready for Jason to say something to inspire or motivate him, but all he got from the forward was a sneer and a middle finger.
"Asshole," Skip smiled. Jason always did his best to lighten the mood when things got too heavy.


"And welcome back ladies and gentlemen to the AJHL semifinals! Period three is shortly going to get underway with our score tied, Iowa and Omaha both at two. Last period the Kings managed to hold back Iowa's offense completely. Let's see if they can do it again! And as everyone knows, the winner of tonight's game will be the Western Division champs and will move on to the final game in Minnesota on Monday. Both teams are back on the ice, and it looks like we're in for an exciting as well as dramatic final period."

Penn State. Caden. Scott. The Championship. Skip took a deep breath and let everything slowly phase out of his mind. The only thing he needed to worry about right now was getting that puck into the net at the end of the ice. No big deal.
Something had gotten into Iowa during intermission. They were vicious. Skip could see in his opponent's faces just how badly they wanted to win. Maybe they had just as much to lose as he did. Sam received a hard elbow in the face after the puck drop, and this soon had him wondering why he'd ever considered something like that in the first place.
"You f*ckhead!" Skip growled and it was on. This was it.

The first ten minutes were fruitless for both sides. No one scored. A timeout was called.
"Alright boys, keep it a clean game from here 'till the end. We don't need to give 'em any chances. NO fights."
Everyone seemed to understand this. After the timeout ended Shawn called for one of their usual plays to be ran. Skip did his best to keep up with Sampson, who was skating at light speed to the other end of the rink. They were supposed to be skating together, but it seemed Sampson was too wound up to remember that.
"Slow down!" Skip called as he received the puck from Muren. Sam was supposed to pass across to Sampson, not ahead. Sampson wouldn't have enough time to get the shot in now. He was skating way too fast. Skip had two options. Trust Sampson and follow orders, or shoot it himself.

He passed. Sampson had to turn his body backwards to get a hold of the puck but was instantly clotheslined from behind. The play failed and Sampson instantly flew into a rage as he got up. He jumped his opponent, and a fight broke out.
"NO!" Shawn yelled, but it was already too late. The two were split up. Sampson got five minutes for fighting. Iowa only received two. This meant The Kings would be short a player for an entire three minutes. It was the worst possible thing that could have happened.
"I should've taken the shot," Skip was furious as he sat down on the bench.
"No one blames you," Kiefer said next to him. He his water bottle and Skip squirted some into his mouth.
"We're screwed," someone murmured. Skip hated to admit it, but everyone knew it was true.

With six minutes left to go in the game, Iowa scored on the powerplay. The Kings only had a few minutes to try and even things up again. The shifts got longer, and Skip found himself on the ice almost constantly. The Coach was believing in him to set things right. He couldn't let him down. Not him, nor the rest of them.
Six minutes quickly became four, then two. Before they knew it there were only forty seven seconds left to force the game into overtime.
"Ok boys, heads in," Shawn ordered, "Muren, I want to run your play. You can do it."
"Wh..what? I can't, not now. It's too risky."
"Exactly why we should do it. We don't have a choice," Josi looked to him.
"But-,"
"Save the bitching Muren. Just go do it," Sam ordered quickly.
"Ok," The seventeen year old looked pale.

The puck was dropped for the final time. Everything seemed to happen in fast forward. Skip won the faceoff, and the rest happened in the blink of an eye.

Twenty seconds and Shawn made the opening for Josi and Muren.

Ten seconds, and Muren had the puck.

Five seconds, and Muren was holding out on taking the shot, approaching the goal.
"SHOOT!!" Skip screamed.

Muren shot.

The puck passed the goalie's right glove....
and hit the goalpost.

As the final buzzer sounded, Muren fell to his knees, staring at the goal. Skip watched as the kid dropped his stick, burying his face into his gloves.
"Hey, hey," Skip said as he skated up to him. He crouched down and made Muren look at him. The rookie was distraught.
"I f*cked up," he said.
"We all f*cked up, not just you. Get up," Skip said and forced Muren to his feet before giving him a strong hug.
"I'm sorry Skip."
"What the hell are you apologizing for?" Sam did his best not to be as outwardly heartbroken, "It's over. Time to move on."
"Yeah. Skip?"
"What is it?"

"...Thanks for last night. I don't think I'll ever forget it."
Skip gave him a pleased look, "Me neither."

Shawn pulled off his helmet and looked up at the scoreboard.
"What are you lookin' at?" Jason slowly skated up to him. The last of the crowd was clearing out of the rink.
"Nothing," Shawn said as he continued to stare at the final score.
"You know," Jason said as he pulled off his helmet as well, "When you really look at it, it's just numbers."
"Yeah. Just numbers," Shawn finally began to make for the lockers. Jason stayed a moment longer, looking around the small rink, now nearly empty. He would never skate with the Kings ever again. He gave the scoreboard one last look before heading off.
"Just f*ckin' numbers." He gave a tired sigh and headed in.

-

"Caden," Skip nearly collapsed into my arms after coming out of the lockers.
"It's just a game," I said quietly. He looked at me and gave me the saddest smile I'd ever seen. Then he moved on to Scott.
"No matter how sad I am.....you two are still incredibly hot." Scott gently shoved him away.
"You don't need comforting, asshole."
The three of us stood there in the hall for a bit, just talking. In a way it was a relief that the stress was behind us.
"So...any word on that end-of-the-season party?" Scott asked. With that question Skip's sorrow seemed to vanish into thin air.
"I'm guessing it would be tonight. I'll have to see."
"Man, if I could get in another round with Jason that would be great," Scott thought aloud. I gave him a look.
"I mean, I would love for the three of us to spend some quality time together with the team."
"Just save it," I said.

"Look who's trying to act all uptight," Skip teased me, "I saw you with Shawn last night. You were ridin' him like a little gay ass cowboy." He and Scott laughed.
"Shut up!" I smiled, blushing terribly. There were still a few staff members walking around.
"We all heard you, Caden. You were all, 'Oh Shawn! Oh God! Oooh f*ck!'" Skip did an amazing impression of me. However, as correct as he was, it was still incredibly embarrassing. As Skip was moaning and pretending he was me and Scott was Shawn, we were interrupted.

"Uh...excuse me?"
Skip turned his head to see a forty-something old man standing there in a brown blazer. He looked incredibly uncomfortable.

***

Skip quickly moved off of Scott. It was probably the most embarrassed I'd ever seen him.
"Um...You're Sam Tanner, right?" The man cleared his throat. Skip affirmed.
"You really played an excellent game there," he began, trying his best to let the incident pass.
"Thanks, but we still lost."
"True, but you guys really put fourth an effort. It didn't go unnoticed."
"I hate to be a bit forward, but...you're from Penn State, right?" The man had failed to identify himself.
He looked a bit confused at this, "No, where'd you hear that?"
"It's just that Coach told me there were some scouts or something. Nevermind."

"Dude...are you serious?" Scott broke into the conversation.
Skip turned to look at the both of us, "Guess that's not really important now though," he gave a weak smile.
"Son, I'm not from Penn State. My name's Greg Ethan. I'm from Lincoln."
"Lincoln? Is that in like Arizona?" Skip asked.
I shook my head, "Just stop thinking before you hurt yourself, Sam. Lincoln, Nebraska. It's like an hour from Omaha."
"I didn't know they had a college team," Skip said.
The man sighed, "Son, I'm not from a college team. I'm with the Lincoln Rockets."
"You mean like...the AHL?" Skip's eyes widened in surprise. Finally the scout gave a smile and nodded.
"You've played an excellent season, Sam. I've been at quite a few of your home games over the past few months and I've seen what you're capable of. You're a good team player, and we feel that you have a whole lot of potential."

I beamed. Skip was speechless. The only league above the AHL was the pros, and Skip was only 18 years old.
"We'd like to present you with a prospect offer, of course at a time that's suitable for you."
"How about tonight?" Sam was eager.
"He's got plans!" Scott interrupted, and then after another awkward silence he apologized.
"How about after you all get back home and settled? I'm sure you'll want to talk this over with your family as well."
"Definitely," Sam looked as if he might start jumping up and down from excitement.
A date and time were set, and phone numbers were exchanged. By the time the scout left Skip was near tears. This was like winning the lottery for him and then some. The dude was totally on cloud nine.
"I can't believe it!!" he screamed. It was a dream come true. Plus he could make a career of it.


It sucked saying goodbye to everyone when we arrived home the next day. I could only imagine what it must have been like to have actually been a part of the team and then have to have it end. I hated saying goodbye to Jason. It was the most difficult. I'm not sure why.
"Hey, chin up Cadey. Every time I see a Mega Pink, or hell, anything that vibrates I'll be sure to think of you." Those were his parting words before giving me a pinch on the ass. I hit him in the face. Maybe I wouldn't miss him that much. Shawn gave me his phone number. I'm still surprised at that.
"Don't forget about us small fries, ok man?" Jason asked Skip. The two hugged. We had to wait on Scott, who was flirting like crazy with everyone for the last time. I had to drag him away.
"I'm sure gonna miss those guys," Skip sighed as we piled back into the van.
"Me too," Scott said.
"Cheer up boys," Mom encouraged, "At least Skip's gonna be sticking around, so that's a good thing, right?"
She was right. If Skip was to play for Lincoln it would work. We could all live in the same place.
"Yeah," I looked at Sam. He was smiling back at me, "That's a very good thing."

A week later Dad's team was booted from the playoffs, and he returned home. When he first laid eyes on the three of us at the airport, I felt uneasy. Dad came up and kissed Mom, hugged Josh, and then he came to me. Pat Gobel stared me down with a vicious intensity that I'm sure he used frequently whenever he was on the ice. All I could do was look back at him.

"Hi...Dad."

"...CADEY! SCOTTIE! SAMMY! How are ya boys?!" He gave us all hugs. That was Dad for ya. He always just went with the flow. When we got home he had the chance to ask the three of us if we were sure we knew what we were getting ourselves into.
"I'm sure, Mr. Gobel. I love your son very much."
"Me too. I always have."

"...Ok, boys. I believe ya. Just...stop now before you start makin' me queasy."


________________________________________



Four months have passed since the summer. The three of us moved into a condo on the edge of town. It's nice. Being able to live with Sam and Scott is like some sort of dream. I still can't get over the fact that Skip's still here. This morning he said to me that he had been considering quitting hockey so he could stay and be close to me and Scott. I told him he was an idiot. I really like living with the both of them. Maybe the only downside is that Skip sets the alarm clock an hour early every morning to make sure the three of us have time for sex before the day begins. Hardly a complaint, one which I've learned to happily deal with.

"Bye," I kissed Skip from the back seat as he got out of the car at the train station, "See you tonight," He and Scott shared a kiss as well, and then we watched him leave.
"Don't be anybody's bitch!" Scott called after him.
Skip turned, walking backwards into the morning light. With the way the sun caught Sam it was like gazing at some fair haired angel with a duffel bag and a hockey stick.

"I love you two," he said with a smile. Scott and I gazed at him from the car. It was a truly beautiful moment.
"...I'll bring home some toys or something tonight, ok?!" He called with a wave before boarding his train. The moment was ruined.
"He's hopeless," I sighed as I moved up front to sit with Scott.
"We'd better hurry, or we're gonna be late," Scott looked at the clock on the front panel, "If I were you, I'd buckle up."
Scott pushed a CD into the player and cranked up the music, shifted into drive, and we took off with a long screech down the street, barely missing parked cars and oncoming traffic.

"Do you think the two of us would've ended up together anyway in the end?" I randomly asked Scott after I'd gotten him to drive a bit safer.
"...Not without Sam. I'd never have the guts in a million years to tell you. What about you, would you tell me?"

"...Probably not. You know, I don't think I hate hockey quite as much as I used to. "
"Me neither, man," Scott pushed some hair from his eyes.

"I mean, thank God for whoever invented that sport, right?"


-End-

++++++++++++



"We've got Boston up by two against New York. Icing is called, the play halted. Wait a second here, it seems there's a bit of a confrontation down on the rink. Let's wait it out as our referees try and break things up."

The two opponents' helmets met hard. The Boston captain scowled at the New York player. Neither spoke.
Jason gave Shawn a rough shove.

Shawn dropped his stick and pushed back, the two circling one another. Both of their teammates tried to pull them apart but with little success. Shawn broke free and tackled his former comrade. The crowd was roaring, hoping for blood.

The refs pulled the boys apart and they were sent to adjacent penalty boxes. Shawn got in and took off his helmet, looking across the glass at Jason, who stared back at him.

Both of them smiled.

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