Page 28 of Bad Pucking Roommate

My stomach roils at the thought of a young Tripp living out of his car, eating garbage to survive, after being abandoned by the very people who were supposed to love him and provide for him.

“Your parents never even tried to look for you?” Justus looks as sick as I feel, and given what I know about his family and how close they are, I can see why. The idea that you’d not only kick a child out, butnever even attempt to find out what happened to him—there aren’t words for that kind of immorality.

“They didn’t care where I went.” Tripp lifts his shoulder listlessly, which is concerning since I’ve never seen the guy be anything but obnoxiously upbeat.

“Why’d they kick you out, if you don’t mind me asking.” I suspect we all know the answer, but due to recent events that might suggest I’m not as different from Tripp as I once thought, I have to ask.

“They caught me kissing a boy.” The expressions around me range from disbelief to anger, but not surprise, which is depressing. Apparently, we’re used to the fact that society, including the parents that are supposed to love you unconditionally, hasn’t learned to wholly accept any sexuality other than straight.

Admittedly, I’m not the poster child for being supportive of the LGBTQ+ community. I’ve never attended a pride event or gone out of my way to be inclusive, but I’ve never discriminated against anyone for their sexuality either. How could I when I have my own less than traditional escapades? Not that being LGBTQ+ is an escapade. It’s more like I wouldn’t want to be judged for what I do in the bedroom, so I’d never do that to someone else.

I’ve always believed peoples’ sexuality isn’t my business, and now that I have gay teammates, and have done my own experimenting, I’m even more sure of my stance. Why does it matter if two men make each other happy or get each other off? I’m just glad to see my friends in a good place, and frankly, I find the getting off part pretty arousing.

That still amuses me even though I’ve been getting off with Justus for the better part of three weeks, especially since it turns out I don’t need a woman there to make it happen. What’s even more amusing, and baffling, is that my play hasn’t suffered with Justus being the participant instead of the audience. It’sarguably gotten better.

I scored a hat trick after that first night when it was just the two of us, and in the next game I had one goal and two assists. I’m on track to break my all-time scoring record, and the season has barely started. What’s even crazier is that Justus isn’t that far behind, and to have two players on one team vying for the top goal scorer in the league… It puts us in a killer position to compete for the cup.

Can our play be attributed to what we’re doing off the ice? My superstitious nature says it is, although not in the way I always believed. Until recently, it never occurred to me that the third person in the room could be anything but a silent observer, or that I could do away with the third altogether if I was with a man.

I’ve always believed having another guy watch me fueled my ego, and now I’m wondering if it fueled something else. Some fantasy that was buried so deep I didn’t even realize it was there until Staci forced it to the surface. That’s the only explanation I can come up with, although I’m not sure how accurate it is.

If I was subconsciously interested in men all this time, I feel like I would’ve had my eyes on them a lot more than I ever did. Or maybe I’d have encouraged them to join without Staci’s influence. Above all else, I think my newfound interest in fooling around with men would extend beyond Justus. That I’d find other men attractive. So far, I don’t, and I have mixed feelings about that.

I might be able to relieve Justus of the ridiculous demands I’ve put on him if I thought someone else could fill that role. Not that I want someone else to fill that role, but I’m his captain. The veteran player. His idol. I should be looking out for the kid, not corrupting him. Only, I’m beginning to realize I like corrupting him. I like seeing those sweet grins morph into coy smiles, those wide brown eyes fall heavy with lust. And above all else I like seeing the wondrous expression on his face when his body succumbs to the pleasure mine gives him.

Aside from the fact we’re teammates, I don’t see anything wrong with what we’re doing. Noah might tell me otherwise because of the role model thing, but that’s from years ago. I’m pretty sure Justus is past that now, and besides, he’s got a good head on his shoulders, so I really don’t think he’d indulge my quirks if he didn’t want to.

We’re two consenting adults who should be able to do what we want, and it’s a little disheartening to think other people might disagree strictly because we’re men. But since they might—and since we’re teammates—I’m thinking we should keep this thing between us on the down low.

I’m proven right at our next practice.

“Listen up,” Coach Nydek barks as we’re getting our gear on. “Management has decided to implement a no fraternization policy for members of the organization. From here forward, athletes are prohibited from entering into relationships with coaches, trainers, administrators and each other.”

“What the fuck?” Niko explodes as he leaps up from the bench. “Two guys get involved with other men and suddenly there’s a new policy? This has anti-gay written all over it.”

There’s a chorus of angry grunts from guys who agree with Niko, which is pretty cool considering Xander is Coach Nydek’s son, and when they first went public with their relationship there were questions about whether Coach could be impartial toward the player that’s romantically involved with his only child.

“I assume this is my fault?” Noah asks with a grim expression. It’s his first day back at practice after his injury, and after news of him dating Tripp went public, so the timing is suspect. Even though Tripp isn’t part of the Bulldogs organization, Niko has a point about a new policy popping upaftertwo guys start dating other men.

“This is discriminating against all male relationships,” Niko continues his rant. “How could you let them do this?” he asks Coach.

“First off, I didn’t let them do anything. I have no control over their policy decisions. Second,” he holds up two fingers, “I think they found one potential conflict of interest—yes, I mean the fact you’re dating my son—to be a risk. With only one gay player that risk was manageable. With two…”

“I’m not gay, Coach. Just dating a man,” Noah says, though I suspect that distinction won’t matter.

“I understand that,” Coach replies with a weary smile, which tells me that he’s fought against the decision that’s been forced on him. “But regardless of how you identify the fact remains that management doesn’t want to factor in romantic partners when making personnel decisions, which is a situation they felt might evolve if they didn’t prohibit it.”

“They’re singling us out.” Niko shakes his head.

“The policy applies to everyone,” Coach sighs. “And while I don’t agree with the motivation behind it, I do get their point. Trades are part of this business. If they trade you my son will follow, but imagine if two players are together and one of them gets traded. They won’t have the luxury of following each other. No one wants to consciously separate two people, so by preventing that scenario the hope is to keep all personnel decisions about the game.”

“That’s a lame explanation,” Noah says. “Everyone assumes the risks of a trade when they join the league. Straight guys might have to leave girlfriends, kids might have to change schools. I agree with Niko, they’re singling male relationships out.”

“We shouldn’t have come forward,” Niko says to Noah. “If our relationships weren’t on their radar, they’d have no reason to do this.”

“And then the two of you would be living a lie,” Coach points out. “You’re paving the way for other guys, and it won’t always be smooth sailing. Things like this will come up that feel like they’re directed at you, and hell, maybe sometimes they will be. But I have to believe this is all a step forward even if it doesn’t feel like it right now.”

I understand what Coach is saying, and I get it. On some level I even appreciate it since I can see how personal relationships between athletes could creep into decisions about trades when those decisions should be based on what’s best for the team. Still, a strange sort of dread seeps into my chest at the notion that players are now prohibited from being together, and I find myself unable to look at any of my teammates as the conversation continues around me.

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