Fact was, I’d been a fucking coward.Then, and later.
I lathered up, ignoring the sounds of Morty and Yagger swaggering in, of them harassing one of the new rookies about staring at their dicks, sneering that they’d had enough cocksuckers in the room last year, don’t start.The rookie muttered something back, and I heard the snap of a towel and a muffled “Ouch!”I didn’t turn to see which of the newbies Morty was hazing.If I couldn’t be brave back when it mattered most, why bother now?
But the litany of nasty slurs that followed dragged my head around.Luke Stackman, our newest center, was their target this time.His face flushed red as he tried to stare them down— another kid with enough talent he’d no doubt leapfrog over me on his way up the hockey ladder.Maybe I could keep them from tearing this one to shreds.Although Stacker hadn’t given me any gay vibes so far.
“God, you’re boring,” I drawled loudly, eyeing Morty up and down.“Don’t you know any other words?I’ve been listening to this shit out of your mouth for years, and you keep repeating yourself.You’ve memorized three whole chirps after six years in the pros, and all of them gay?That’s pathetic.”
“Fuck you, Vally.”Morty stalked my way, twisting his towel in a rope.
I became aware that facing off with him while wet and naked wasn’t the best decision I’d ever made, but some kind of fatalistic mood swamped me, and I cupped my dick.“What?You want to fuck me?See something you like, Mort?Can’t wait to get closer to my cock?”
“Jesus fuck, you’re disgusting.”Although Mort stopped short, which was a win of sorts.“Maybe you’re the fag, Vally, huh?I don’t hear you talking about the girls you’re banging.”
“Because I’m a grown man and I keep my hands offgirls.You saying you don’t?Should we be calling the FBI about you?”
“You shut your mouth.”Morty lunged into the shower and shoved me.His hands hit my shoulders hard enough to slam me against the wall, and I fought for balance.My luck would be to fall and break my elbow or something.He grabbed my arms and glared into my eyes from a foot away.“You stinking queer, you stay out of my business.”
I fought not to shake under his punishing grip.“Yet here you are, naked in my shower, your dick inches from mine.Something we should know, Mortenson?”
For a hysterical second, I wondered if I’d pushed him too far.He hauled off to punch me and only Bubs, skidding over from his own shower to yank on Morty’s arm, saved me from a haymaker to the face.Morty staggered and turned on Bubs.“Get the fuck off me!”
“You beat up Vally in front of witnesses and you’ll be off the team,” Bubs told him.“Let it go.”
“Fuck that!”Morty slammed his other fist up under my ribs, the angle awkward enough the blow hurt but didn’t wind me.
Yagger lunged and hauled that arm away too.“Bubs is right, dude.Come on.Not worth losing hockey over.”
“You heard him,” Morty whined.When neither man released his arms, Morty slumped, then pulled free of Bubs and stepped back.“You.”He pointed at me, his face thunderous.“One time,one timeyou get to say shit like that to me.Next time, I’ll bury you.”
So you can dish it out but not take it?A shred of self-preservation kept me from saying that to his face.I shrugged and rubbed soap over my chest, not quite daring to turn my back.
To my surprise, Bubs snarled at Morty, “Vally’s right, you know.You’re full of bullshit and one-track lame chirps, and the rookies aren’t the only ones sick of you.Give it a fucking rest.”
Morty stared at Bubs, who was almost as tall as him, and several years younger.Several other players in the showers were watching now, but when Morty glanced around, none of them seemed inclined to back him up.
Nikki, who was bigger than both of them, called over, “Can we get the fucking shampoo out of our fucking hair without the fucking drama?”and got murmurs of agreement.
Morty looked pissed, but Yagger hauled him off to the farthest showerheads, talking urgently under his breath.
Bubs muttered my way, “Morty’s so hung up on guys being gay, you think he might be…?”
“Ew, no,” I murmured back.“We don’t want him in the club.”My stomach dropped as I realized what I’d said, but Bubs just raised an eyebrow at me, returned to his showerhead, and angled his face into the spray.I rinsed off, trying not to look over too often, pretending I wasn’t watching for signs Bubs had heard me right.
We stepped out at the same time and grabbed for towels.Bubs gave his hair a scrub before moving lower, and glanced my way.“Dolan was the best defenseman we’d had in five seasons.You think he’d have played even better without our own goon squad harassing him?”
“Maybe.”I wrapped my towel around my waist.
“Yeah, I think so too.”Bubs raised his voice.“Hey, Stacker,” he called to the rookie.“If the bully brigade comes after you again, let me know.”
“And me,” I agreed, because why the fuck not?Morty hated me anyway.
Morty called, “Fuck you all,” from the far shower, but the words didn’t carry his usual force.
Back in the locker room, Bubs and I headed to our places and changed.Bubs was one of the team guys I liked hanging out with, but we weren’t close.This time, on his way to the door, he detoured to my locker.“The mood in this room has sucked the last few years,” he said, not explicitly naming our indifferent captain Petrov as the problem, but we shared a knowing glance.“Last year was the worst.I want to win some games and I want to get back the team we had when I was a rookie.Remember?”
I’d joined the Gryphons a bunch of years before Bubs, but I remembered his rookie year when we’d made the second round of the playoffs.We’d been an unaffiliated team in those days, before the league added the Portland Rafter’s franchise.Our captain was a veteran defenseman named McGarity and Mac hadn’t allowed any grudges in his room.God, hockey had been fun back then.“Yeah, I remember.”
Bubs pointed back and forth between us.“Right.So it starts here, you and me.”
