Page 49 of Role Model

“You wish,” Dallas yelled after him. “That’s probably why you’re so mad, right? You wanted this dick, you disgusting fucking—”

He didn’t get the last word out because Ilya had laid him out on the ice. Dallas was on his back, stunned. Then he started flailing his arms, gesturing wildly toward Ilya. “Hey, ref! What the fuck! You see this fucking psychopath?”

“Shut the fuck up, Kent,” Ilya said in a low, dangerous tone.

“Why? Is Barrett your boyfriend? Did you take a break from fucking Hollander to shove your dick in Barrett’s—”

Ilya hauled Dallas up by his jersey, yanking him roughly until he was fully standing. Then Ilya shook his other glove off and punched him in the face.

“Holy shit,” Troy muttered.

The refs, who had been taking their time breaking things up between Ilya and Dallas considering this was all during a stop in play and very illegal, came rushing in. Ilya was swiftly handed a game misconduct, but he didn’t seem to mind. He winked at Troy before he left the ice.

During the final minute of play, Troy was battling Dallas in a corner for the puck. He could already see the bruise forming on Dallas’s cheek where Ilya had punched him.

Troy shoved up against him, hard, trying to knock him off the puck. Dallas shoved back and said, “You’re the piece of shit, Barrett.”

“Cool. You finally came up with a comeback.”

Dallas rammed his shoulder into Troy’s chest. “You’re such a fucking asshole.”

“Yeah? How many accusations have there been so far? There was a new one yesterday, right?”

Dallas cross-checked Troy with his stick, then dropped it and shoved him again with both hands. “They’re liars.”

Troy snorted and shoved him back. “All of them?”

“Yes.” And then Dallas tackled Troy to the ice, the puck forgotten.

Troy tried to roll Dallas off him, but Dallas was hitting him wildly with one gloved hand, while holding him down with the other.

“You were my friend!” Dallas screamed. His eyes were wild with fury and hurt as he kept hitting Troy.

“I shouldn’t have been,” Troy spat back. The refs finally showed up to haul Dallas off him. Troy raised himself up to his knees and yelled, “You’re disgusting, Dallas.”

Dallas shot him one last look, over his shoulder, and Troy was shocked to see tears in his eyes.

Good. Fuck him.

The game ended with Ottawa losing 4-2. Ilya was already showered and changed into his suit when the rest of the team returned to the dressing room. Troy went to him right away.

“You didn’t need to do that,” he said. “But thanks.”

“I loved it. Why play hockey if you can’t enjoy it, right?”

Troy’s lips curved up. “Right.”

Ilya nodded at him. “Nice goal. Feel better?”

“Yeah. Thanks for that pass.”

He went to get undressed. The thing that didn’t sit well with Troy was that Ilya had gotten angry when Kent had accused him of doing gay shit. Troy had known, when he’d been suggesting that Dallas wanted to fuck his dad, that it would make Dallas angry because he was a homophobic trash bag. It was disappointing to see Ilya get so offended from the same kind of taunts.

But that was exactly why Troy had kept his sexuality a secret all these years. Accusing an opponent of being gay was still the lowest insult you could hurl.

He tried to focus on positive things. His first game against Toronto was over with, he’d finally scored a goal, and his teammates had supported him, especially Ilya.

It would have been nice to win this one, though. To rub Dallas’s face in it. Not just Dallas, but the entire team, especially Coach Cooper. And every fan who booed Troy. Fuck them all.

---