“I just couldn’t...it didn’t feel fair that we’d win a game just because someone was being a homophobic asshole,” he says, frowning softly. “It wouldn’t have felt right to go into the Frozen Four like that. I wanted to win fair and square, and my team agreed. Yes, I brought it up, but in the end, it was a team decision.”
“And you took the punishment as a team too, right? Do you think you’d have won against Michigan if…” he checks his papers again, reading out the name, “Zollweg had played?”
Nicko’s shoulders draw up, and I’m about to give his foot another tap when he takes a deep breath and settles all on his own. Pride swells in my chest. We’ve both come so far.
“I can’t possibly know that. But I wanted to stand up for what I believe rather than duck my head and win.”
The host blinks a few times, then shuffles more papers. I idly wonder how many questions there are, and how much longer this will take. Because there’s a sudden need in me to ravage my boyfriend.
From the looks the host throws at me, I can guess what the next question is about before he asks. “And what uh, what do you say to fans who think you should’ve focused more on your game than LGBT issues?”
“Two things,” Nicko leans forward to speak right into the mic, his lips almost brushing it: “One: I’ve made the mistake of saying the same bullshit before, and I want to apologize for it. I vastly underestimated how much work still needs to be done, how deep homophobia still runs in sports. I’ve also had the opportunity of getting to know Hart a lot better over the past months, and he proves that statement wrong. He can do both: play amazing hockeyandbe the voice the community needs. And for all those doubters: watch me win Rookie of the Year next seasonandmarch at Pride.”
For a moment I’m sure that my heart must be beating loud enough for the microphones to pick it up alongside the laugh that bubbles up in my chest. Leave it to Nicko to raise a competition to every rookie that’s starting out alongside us—andsay all these things that I know will be so,soimportant for someone out there to hear.
With a hum I lean in, to give a piece of my mind as well. I raise my hand to rest it on the table, deliberately brushing against Nicko’s arm as I move. It's a far cry from what I actually want to do to him, but that will have to wait until later.
“It’s always easy to say that when you don’t have to defend your private life at every corner. I’ve never heard someone ask this question to a straight player who gets married or has children.” I shift in my chair, clearing my throat. “But there’s a lot of support at both universities where I’ve been part of the Bonham LGBTQIA+ Alliance. The Rebels too have assured me that they are very interested in giving people like me a voice to speak out. And I’m letting my game speak for itself.”
I give both Nicko and the host a smile. “Considering I just finished a great season with the Bats, I think I can clearly focus on more than one thing at a time.”
“That’s…great?”
“Yeah, we all love to listen to Hart taking a stand,” Nicko groans next to me, but I can hear the teasing lilt in his voice. When I look over there’s a soft curl to his lips.
“So...has playing against one another made you look forward to playing together as teammates?”
This one has me weighing my head. It sure wasn’t playing against Nicko that changed my feelings about him. It wasn’t until we played together that I realized what a great team we make on the ice.
“In a way?” I venture carefully, making Nicko grin next to me.
“Definitely! Beating Hart showed me how much he still had to learn.”
“Oh really? Like what?”
“Where to even start,” Nicko sighs, his cheeky grin still in place. He leans back and counts off on his fingers as he rattles off a list: “First of all: your backhand! Secondly: playing like you’re applying for Hockey Sainthood.” There’s more—the host laughs at some point—but my brain is blank except for imagining how I could reach across to pull him in and kiss that infuriating smirk right off of his lips.
“Right! As you can see, Hoff has his work cut out for him,” I finally manage, raising a brow at Nicko.
You’re in trouble, it promises.Later.
“Maybe the Rebels should consider taking him on as coaching consultant as well.”
“Pff, it’s obvious to anyone who knows hockey.” Nicko waves my comment off, but I’m not deterred.
“For real though: He coached Middle Schoolers last summer and will again before he reports to training with the Rebels! He’s great with kids.”
The host blinks when I turn back to him, obviously blindsided with the change in topic. “Uhm that’s...really?”
“Oh yeah!” I nod, genuinely enthusiastic to talk about this side of Nicko, even as his flushing cheeks demand half my attention. Seeing him interact with Milo and celebrating the end of the kid’s season was adorable.
“It’s...it’s not just me though. It’s organized by Coach Kovachev,” Nicko tries to dodge the compliments.
“Still pretty great! Getting to learn how to play hockey from a future NHL star? Really cool for the kids!” It probably sounds like I’m getting a sponsorship for the advertisement, but I don’t really care right now.
Nicko stretches over to cover my microphone with his hand, huffing. He’s leaning halfway across my lap, and I have to bite my tongue to not wrap my arms around him and press my lips against his exposed neck– My daydreaming is interrupted by the interviewer.
“Uhm, what else are you up to during your last weeks of college?”
