Page 46 of Goaltender Interference

“Too stressful,” Aiden said, starting to put together a plate for him. “This is just for you. Happy birthday, Matt.”

“Thank you.” Matt took the first bite and closed his eyes, a lopsided smile on his face as he chewed. That was good enough for Aiden.

When he checked his phone later, Pears had sent him a playlist. It was calledshacking up with your ex in montreal.

Aiden opened the playlist, but it was just theAméliesoundtrack three times in a row.

Thanks, Isaac.

Anytime, bud.

Aiden did not play the playlist.

You good, though?Pears asked.

Aiden said,yeah,surprised to find he almost meant it.

Matt had gotten the impression that Aiden had been dreading his birthday: he was morose and quiet after Matt’s, and it didn’t get better over the next few days. He’d never been like that when they were younger, but Matt had the general idea that getting older complicated things. His own birthday had been a minefield he hadn’t entirely recovered from.

Aiden, asleep, was absent the quiet fog of despair that seemed to have settled in around him that week. Matt ran his hand down Aiden’s flank. It was still insane he had a body like he did, without one extra ounce of body fat, more abs than anyone needed. He’d always had dark body hair, and Matt remembered the one time he’d waxed it because a bunch of his teammates were taking an island vacation together, and Matt had almost choked himself laughing when he’d seen it up close. Remembered the dark blush that would rise up Aiden’s whole chest to his ears, the way he’d covered himself up, even though Matt had seen every single embarrassing part of him already.

“Hey,” Matt murmured, mouth against Aiden’s thigh. “Good morning, baby.”

He could feel Aiden shifting into wakefulness, though his eyes didn’t open. He was still limp and boneless and relaxed, sighing a little when Matt kissed his way along the line of muscle.

“What do you want for your birthday?”

Aiden’s voice was an exhale more than a word. “You.”

The sex was sleepy and sloppy and lazy, Matt barely moving inside of him, the barest shift of his hips here and there to listen to the way Aiden’s breath hitched when he did it. It was enough just to be close to him, hungry kisses and desperate hands and the tiny, broken noises Aiden made when Matt took charge.

After it was over, Aiden sat cradled in Matt’s lap, tryingto catch his breath as Matt shifted so that his softening cock slipped out. It was messy and both of them desperately needed to shower, but Matt held Aiden down when he tried to get up, brushed a thumb across his cheek.

“What’s wrong?”

At first, Aiden didn’t want to answer, like he was afraid of ruining the moment. Matt shifted again so that Aiden could settle more comfortably straddling his thighs, and Aiden shook his head.

“I just...this is closer to forty than thirty. The first one since retirement. Just feels, you know, really fucking weird. Not myself. I’m sorry, I fucking—I hate that I keep doing this. Not what you signed up for when you asked me up here, I know.”

Matt exhaled. “It kind of was, Aidy. I signed up foryou, anyway.”

“Matt—”

“Aiden, let me do nice shit for you today, okay? We can...talk about it later.”

In the shower, Aiden got down on his knees, like he was trying to show Matt exactly how grateful he was. Maybe neither of their mouths could form the proper words, but they could do this. And Jesus, could Aiden’s mouth do this.

“It’syourbirthday, Aiden,” Matt gasped.

Aiden pulled away, looked up at him from the shower floor. It had to have been hell on his knees, those little tiles, but he didn’t seem bothered by it. “It’s just—this wholetimein Montreal you’ve been doing nice shit for me. And you haven’t been getting anything in return. I’m just—I don’t know, a shell—”

“Aidy.” Even now, he was still so hard it was almost painful, looking down at the way Aiden’s soft mouth parted, at his eyes, the pupils wide, darker with desire. It didn’t matter if he couldn’t get the point across, but he didn’t know what to say to make Aiden believe him. “I’m getting you. I’m gettingyou.”

Aiden didn’t say anything, just indicatedshut upwith his hand and his tongue, his warm, clever mouth on Matt’s cock again.

Eventually, Matt gave in.

By the time they got outside, Aiden found a fittingly gray and overcast day, unseasonably chilly for August. Although he was starting to have a working knowledge of how to get around downtown Montreal, he was still unfamiliar with the surrounding suburbs. So when Matt drove them east and over the Samuel De Champlain Bridge, it took him a second to figure out where they were going.

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