Page 29 of Bad Pucking Roommate

Are Justus and I fraternizing?

We aren’t even technically fucking, just fucking around, and I think fraternizing is another word for dating, in which case, no…we aren’t. We’ve only ever played with each other’s dicks, and that’s strictly for superstitious purposes. Hell, we’ve never even kissed or held hands or done any other dating type shit, so we can’t be accused of having a relationship. As far as I’m concerned, we should be in the clear, and this new rule doesn’t change anything.

So, why do I feel hollow inside?

I’m just offended on behalf of my teammates. They’re blaming themselves and second-guessing their choices and it’s fucking with their happiness, which isn’t cool. They don’t deserve to carry that burden and I’m disheartened about the injustice of it. That would make anyone feel hollow.

“If this were really a step forward, wouldn’t they let people make their own decisions?” Justus asks. “I mean, say two players are together and one got traded, it’d be up to that couple to decide if or how to make that work, right?”

“I think the step forward is acknowledging that same-sex relationships between players and other personnel, or each other, could exist,” Coach says.

“Yeah, but prohibiting them basically implies those relationships aren’t supported, which is the opposite of what they’re saying publicly,” Niko snorts. “They’re playing both sides of the coin to protect themselves and completely ignoring the fact that there are actual people who are impacted by this policy.”

“I’m with Justus and Noah,” Gauthier pipes up. “We all know the risks of being traded when we join the league, and if two people in the organization get involved, they do it knowing things might change. No one should make those decisions on behalf of another person.”

“Is that even legal to do?” Niko asks.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Coach barks. “I didn’t come in here to debate the ethical or legal implications of this policy, I’m just telling you it exists. And while I’m happy to have this discussion, I damn sure don’t intend to have it when we should be on the ice. Now suit up.”

Coach storms off, leaving us to grumble among ourselves as we dress. And while Niko does most of the grumbling, I’m encouraged to see so many of our teammates agree with him. They aren’t likely to be impacted by this new policy since none of them are gay or bi or anything—at least not that I’m aware of—but they’ll support those of us who are.

Those of us who are.

Did I just put myself in that category?Shit, I think I did. Do I belong there after just a few hand jobs? Hard to say. Neither label feels entirely accurate. They don’t give me anxiety or anything, I’m just not sure they fit either, which should be even more reason this new policy doesn’t have any impact on me, right?

***

Practice is a disaster.

Noah’s a little rusty, which is understandable since it’s his first day back on the ice, but the rest of us have no excuse. Niko’s skating without any finesse so he’s just fast, not particularly effective. My timing is off so my shots are easy to block, and Justus can’t make a pass to save his life.

The rest of the guys are just as bad, missing passes and shots and skating around almost aimlessly. I’m sure some of that is in response to how off Niko, Noah, Justus and I are, but I think it’s also partially due to animosity towards management. In a weird way that’s sort of comforting.

I don’t know what other teams are like, and maybe they don’t share our issues since none of them have gay or bi players that I’m aware of, but the Bulldogs embrace each other, so no one is happy with this new policy. It’d be better if we didn’t let our displeasure impact our play, and we’ll need to move past this before the next game. Still, it’s nice to know we’re all on the same page. Hopefully, this train wreck of a practice will be the extent of the fallout though.

When it’s clear the day is a bust Coach dismisses us—not before a mouthful about how we need to rise above what happens off the ice if we want to go to the playoffs—but at least he doesn’t make us do sprints or anything. Unfortunately, his dismissal doesn’t mean I can escape the rink with the rest of the team.

“Luca, stick around and take some more shots? I could use a little more practice before the next game.” Noah phrases his request like he’s asking a favor, but I know better. We’ll shoot around, and then he’ll go into captain mode and ask me what the fuck I’m doing. There’s no escaping it.

“Sure.” I skate back to center ice where a half dozen pucks are gathered, cradling one as I skate in leisurely circles until I break away and dribble toward the goal. About a dozen feet out, I fake left then go right, flicking the puck toward the upper corner of the net. Noah’s glove shoots out to stop it, just barely catching it in the tip. He tosses it aside as I skate back to grab another and do it again.

We spend about twenty minutes practicing before Noah lifts his mask and says he’s good, gathering the pucks in silence so the Zamboni can resurface the ice. Just as we step out of the rink Noah makes his move.

“I hear we’re no longer roommates.”

“Yeah.” I run a hand through my sweaty hair. “I was going to tell you about that, but it looks like Niko beat me to it.”

“Feels like you weren’t in a rush to mention it, considering he told me about the switch a few weeks ago.” There’s a twinge of disappointment in his voice. “I guess you decided not to leave Justus alone after all.”

“You say that like I had a choice.”

“Didn’t you?”

“No, actually. Justus wasn’t satisfied when I told him he shouldn’t get involved so I told him everything, and he insisted on helping.” Noah will assume that means Justus is watching me, not participating, and I’m happy to let him believe that. Not only would the truth make him more disappointed in me than he already is, it’s not my place to say anything more unless Justus explicitly says that’s okay. Especially not after this new policy development.

“Isn’t that why you were going to keep him in the dark?” Noah asks. “Because he can’t say no to you?”

I shake my head with a disdainful huff. “You make it sound like I preyed on the guy.”

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