Page 18 of Tough Guy and the Show Off

“It is, but it’s not really me, is it? You’re the showy one, not me.”

“Nah, I’m the obvious show-off, but you dazzle on the ice too. You’re just more subdued about it.” He nudges my arm with his. “Together, we’re something to watch.”

My body warms at the thought. “We really are. You make me play better.”

“Back at ya, Bozy.”

We continue making dinner, chopping vegetables—carrots and broccoli, Trav’s favorites—and I get the plates out while Trav sears the fish and sautés the veggies. While he finishes that up, I pour our beers into two chilled glasses, then we plate up the food and move to his dining room.

The whole time, Trav is rattling off everything he’s read about different players in the league, how the weekend’s games went, and who’s leading in scoring right now. The Chicago Huskies are having a solid season, but their defense is a little weak. Montreal and LA are the ones to watch so far, and there’s lots being said about our goalie, none of it good.

“Nilsson needs to get his shit together before he’s traded,” Trav says around a bite of fish.

“Hopefully it’s just a rough spot he can work through. He’s been a strong goalie in the past.”

“Yeah, but you know how it is—what have you done for me lately. And lately, Nilsson is dropping the ball.”

“Or the puck.”

“He’d have to actually catch the puck to drop it,” he deadpans.

We finish dinner then load the dishwasher together before heading over to the couch. Trav cues up the movie, one of his favorites. I can’t remember how many times we’ve actually watched this movie, but it makes him happy, and that’s good enough for me.

I squirm a little, trying to get comfortable, but my neck is stiff, and it’s difficult to find a good angle to watch TV.

“What’s going on, Beau?”

“Nothing. Just a kink in my neck.”

“Where?”

I tap my right shoulder, dragging my fingers up my neck to my ear lobe. “Slept wrong or something.”

“Here, let me get it. Lean over.”

I turn to look at him. “Huh?”

“Put your head in my lap. I’ll get the knot.”

That sounds fucking nice. “Thanks, man.”

Trav just grins at me, patting his lap. I lean over, lying my head on his thighs as he starts to massage the tight muscle in my neck. The movie starts and we watch in silence while Trav’s strong fingers work out the knots to the point of making me moan.

“Ooh, there we go,” Trav says, his voice deep and soft at the same time. “Almost got it out.”

He digs a little deeper, and I hiss from the pain, but immediately relief washes over me. “Fuck, that’s good.”

Trav rubs the area then moves up a little, massaging the column of my neck before moving back down to my shoulder. Out of nowhere, my body starts to tingle, my cock swelling slightly. Damn. I’m really hard up getting turned on by a simple neck rub.

I try to shift, but as I do, my cheek brushes against Trav’s cock, which feels a little hard too. None of this makes sense. We’ve massaged each other’s aches and pains away a hundred times and it was nothing spectacular, but right now, I want to roll over and look at him, see if he’s really getting hard from rubbing my shoulder or if I’m imagining it.

I try to scoot away but Trav digs harder into my sore muscle. “Almost done,” he says, his voice gravelly now.

He hums softly as his thumb works through the final knot, and the longer we’re like this, the more I wonder why he has this effect on me now when he never has before. I really need to go out and get laid, but the idea doesn’t excite me at all.

Trav chuckles at something on the screen, but I’ve been tuning the movie out, lost in the sensation of his fingers on my skin and his cock beneath me.

“How’s that feel?” he asks, leaning in so his breath fans across my cheek. “Better?”