Page 50 of Game Misconduct

“Very frightening, Mike. I’m shaking over here.”

“Yeah, yeah, fuck off.”

“Hmm.”

“Okay, I gotta go, Bee’s coming back today and I haven’t seen her outside of work in forfuckingever.”

“Have fun, kid.”

“I will. Bye.”

Danny did buy the ticket. He chose the latest nonstop flight he could find, figuring he’d kill some time in the city until Mike got back from New York, and maybe a little optimistically, a nine p.m. flight home on the 26th. That would give him more time if he needed it, and he wouldn’t have to rush.

The day crept up on him. He packed his bags in the morning, feeling strange about the whole thing. He didn’t know what it would be like, spending so much time with Mike in person, even though they admittedly talked quite a lot now. He was more apprehensive about seeing Celi, whether she’d say something he couldn’t handle hearing.

Somehow he got through the flight, helped along by free drinks, and then he was in the Philadelphia airport, wondering what the fuck he was doing but still feeling strangely hopeful about the holiday. It was only seven, so Mike would just be going on the ice about now. He texted Mike,I know you won’t see this in time, but I just landed. I’m going to go get dinner or something. Good luck.He had until midnight, at least.

Danny took a cab into the city, which was a weird experience. Usually he was on a team bus during this stretch of the ride. The driver tried to chat with him, even though he didn’t recognize him, thankfully, but Danny wasn’t really in the mood. He tried to be polite but curt and shrink into himself. Not easy to do when your knees were bumping against the back of the passenger seat.

The night was cold and brisk. Mike lived in the city center area, but there wasn’t much near his apartment building. Danny walked around the streets immediately near it and eventually wound up at a bar called City Tap House, because he wanted to see if he could catch Mike’s game while he was eating dinner and having a drink.

He always watched Mike’s games, usually on replay because he was either playing that night or they were playing against each other. But he watched every single one, mostly in the privacy of his own home. It was a different experience watching it in Philly, in a bar with fans. They cheered when the Cons scored, they booed and cursed the Liberty any time they scored or prevented a scoring chance, and they completelylost their shitwhen Mike hit one of the opposing forwards so hard he went right through the glass.

Danny grinned at the TV, like,that’s my boy, but of course he couldn’t say anything, so he just ate his dinner in silence and tried not to look too dopey. He thought he saw one of the younger guys at the bar wearing a Morin jersey glance his way occasionally, but he wasn’t sure if he was being recognized or checked out. It was an ambiguous look. Either way, Danny looked down at his miso-glazed salmon, which he wasn’t even enjoying very much, and steadfastly didn’t say anything or catch that guy’s eye again.

Mike hadn’t gotten a penalty; it was a clean if brutal hit. Despite the glass incident, the Cons played a tight game, and they won with two goals to spare. The first line of Morin, Reed, and Singer was really a beautiful thing to watch, the way each one of them moved like they knew exactly where to expect the other two. They were going to be interesting to face in the playoffs, that was for sure. As of right now, it looked like it wouldn’t be until the second round. Even better was watching Mike during the postgame interviews, stripped down to pads and Under Armour, sweaty and red-faced in a way that just reminded Danny of sex now.

Finally, Mike texted,we’re about to board, home in a few hours.

Don’t worry about me, I found a place to hang out. Also. Through the glass, huh?

you were watching me? course you were, you fucking dork

Danny sent a nerd face emoji then added,It was pretty hot.

perv. see you soon.

Danny slid his phone back into his pocket and ordered another beer while he waited. He passed the time, half listening to the conversations around him, half watching the LA/Ottawa game on the TV. Around one thirty in the morning, Mike said,hey i’m back at my place come up whenever yr ready.

Danny exhaled.Be right over.

He settled his tab, left a generous tip because the bartender hadn’t hassled him about hanging out there until it was almost time to close, and walked the half a block with his small bag to Mike’s apartment building. Stood in front of it for a moment, wondering what the hell he was doing, what the hell he hoped to get out of it. He wondered what Mike actually thought about him, whether he saw Danny the way Danny saw himself sometimes, the worst times late at night. A washed-up wreck of a man trying to relive his youth with a guy a decade younger. When you looked at it that way, it was kind of pathetic, and he definitely couldn’t handle Mike’s pity.

But he was already here. He’d paid for the ticket. He’d come this far, and Mike was quite literally waiting for him.

He went in.

Mike opened the door and Danny just stared at him for a minute because it was just really good to see him. He was wearing a ratty black band T-shirt with its sleeves cut off and his boxers and nothing else, and he looked almost nervous at first. Individually, all of Mike’s features were striking, but together, with the tattoos and lean muscle and intensity of his eyes, Danny felt almost overwhelmed just looking at him. His hair was in the growing-in stage again and Danny thought about pulling it.

“Hey,” Mike said, and leaned around him to shut the door. “Welcome to my humble abode.” Before Danny could do or say anything else, though, Mike pushed him against the door and got down on his knees.

“Mike, what—”

“What does it look like, dumbass? Take ’em down.”

Danny, who had dropped his bag when Mike pushed him, looked down helplessly. Mike looked back up at him, but it was so different from the last time they’d done this. It was a challenge, but he wasn’t angry, just eager. His lips were parted—

“Comeon, Danny, drop it.” Danny’s hands were moving, pushing the waist of his pants down, and Mike bit his lip, watching him, and murmured, “Dude, I’ve been thinking about this since like...the last game, at least.”

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