Nice Shooting, Rook

Sun, Feb 13 at 2:14 AM CST

HOLLANDER: Hey Rook this is Hunter

HOLLANDER: I’m texting myself from your phone so i have your number

HOLLANDER: your gonna be okay kid

Wed, Feb 16 at 3:15 PM EST

HUNTER: Hey Hollander

HUNTER: I really meant it about reaching out any time, alright?

HUNTER: I would have given my left ball for someone to talk to about this stuff when I was your age

HUNTER: and like I said, it’s nice for me too

HUNTER: not that I ever really thought I was actually the only one in the league

HUNTER: but KNOWING it is different

Thu, Feb 17 at 6:20 AM EST

HOLLANDER: ok

HOLLANDER: thanks

Wed, Feb 23 at 9:20 PM EST

HOLLANDER: Hello, Mr. Hunter

HOLLANDER: This is Shane Hollander

HOLLANDER: You probably knew that

HOLLANDER: Anyway, I was wondering if you meant it about being available to ask for advice

HOLLANDER: no worries if you were just being polite

HUNTER: 😂 yeah, Rook, I knew it was you

HUNTER: I’m the one who put my number in your phone, remember?

HUNTER: while you were standing there on Rozanov’s balcony in nothing but your boxers

HUNTER: looking at me like you’d just seen a ghost 👻

HOLLANDER: Fuck off

HOLLANDER: …

HOLLANDER: Oh my god

HOLLANDER: I didn’t mean to say that

HOLLANDER: I mean I did but not to you

HOLLANDER: I’m so sorry, Mr. Hunter

HUNTER: 🤣 It’s fine, kid

HUNTER: I’m a professional hockey player

HUNTER: I’ve been told to fuck off before

HUNTER: I was chirping you

HUNTER: it’s okay for you to chirp back

HUNTER: even if you jerked off to my poster when you were a teenager or something

HOLLANDER: …

HUNTER: Spit it out, kid

HUNTER: or swallow, I don’t care

HOLLANDER: DUCK

HUNTER: ???

HUNTER: 🦆

HOLLANDER: …

HOLLANDER: *FUCK

HOLLANDER: How did you know I did that?

HUNTER: you called me Mr. Hunter and blushed every time I looked at you, rook

HUNTER: sorry, but it wasn’t a hard guess 🤷‍♂️

HUNTER: and then to drive the nail in

HUNTER: I might have overheard you and Roz talking about me.

HUNTER: A “mating call” was mentioned I think?

HUNTER: thin walls at that hotel

HUNTER: ANYWHO

HOLLANDER: 😭😬🫣

HOLLANDER: jesus christ

HOLLANDER: omg I’m so fucking sorry

HUNTER: don’t apologize

HUNTER: it’s flattering

HUNTER: and honestly I’m used to it

HUNTER: fuck, did that sound arrogant?

HUNTER: I’m just saying, once you’ve been named MLH’s hottest player of the year five times in a row, you too will get used to dealing with people who had crushes on you as a teenager. even from straight guys, TBH

HOLLANDER: I don’t think it counts as being arrogant if it’s true

HOLLANDER: and even if it did I think you’ve earned it

HUNTER: jeez, kid, you’re gonna make me blush

HOLLANDER: Fuck off

HOLLANDER: I mean it this time

HOLLANDER: You’re an awesome player to watch

HOLLANDER: I looked up to you a lot growing up

HUNTER: ”looked up” eh?

HUNTER: poster was near the bed, then? 😉

HOLLANDER: 😭

HUNTER: relax

HUNTER: I’m just jerking your chain, Rook

HUNTER: anyway so why did you text me?

HUNTER: not that I don’t enjoy fucking with you any time

HOLLANDER: 😒

HUNTER: I CAN be serious, I promise

HUNTER: what do you need advice about?

HOLLANDER: You know what

HOLLANDER: Never mind

HUNTER: oh come on, kid

HUNTER: you got this far

HUNTER: I mean Jesus how am I pissing you off when you put up with Rozanov?

HOLLANDER: When Rozanov pisses me off I know how to shut him up

HUNTER: !!!

HUNTER: the cub’s got bite!

HOLLANDER: This is you being serious?

HUNTER: 🤣

HUNTER: okay sorry

HUNTER: I’m done, I swear

HUNTER: Go on

HOLLANDER: Ugh fine

HOLLANDER: …

HUNTER: Any time…

HOLLANDER: Look

HOLLANDER: Could I please just ask you a really embarrassing question and have you not laugh at me?

HOLLANDER: Please?

HUNTER: yeah, of course

HUNTER: I’m sorry

HUNTER: I got you, kid

HOLLANDER: …

HOLLANDER: Okay so

HOLLANDER: We’ve only done hand and mouth stuff so far

HOLLANDER: But Roz kinda wants to do more, you know?

HUNTER: dont let him pressure you

HUNTER: you wait as long as you need to to feel ready

HOLLANDER: No but i want to

HOLLANDER: i really want to

HUNTER: 😏

HOLLANDER: fuck off

HOLLANDER: It’s just that he’s got more experience than I do

HOLLANDER: and I don’t want to come across like I’m some blushing virgin you know?

HOLLANDER: I was just kinda hoping maybe you could like talk me through how it goes?

HOLLANDER: answer some questions I had?

HUNTER: jesus

HOLLANDER: I’m sorry I said it was embarrassing

HOLLANDER: It’s okay if you don’t want to

HOLLANDER: I’ve been reading stuff on reddit

HOLLANDER: and there’s this new site, Quora?

HUNTER: JESUS MARY AND JOSEPH

HUNTER: NO

HUNTER: don’t do that

HUNTER: I’ll answer your questions

HUNTER: it can’t be worse than the speech my coach makes me give the rookies every damn year

HUNTER: at least with you I don’t have to pretend like I’ve had sex with a woman ever

HOLLANDER: you’ve never had sex with a woman?

HUNTER: I’m gay

HOLLANDER: oh

HOLLANDER: I mean yeah, you said that on the balcony but

HOLLANDER: I’ve had sex with women

HOLLANDER: not that I’m gay

HUNTER: good for you

HOLLANDER: Fuck off

HUNTER: 🙄

HUNTER: you really got to get a little more variety in your chirping there, kid

HUNTER: anyway do you really want me to just… talk about how gay sex goes?

HUNTER: or do you have specific questions?

HUNTER: you know its really find to not be a sex expert, right?

HOLLANDER: ?

HUNTER: *fine

HUNTER: I just mean, like, I hope you feel comfortable to ask Roz questions too

HOLLANDER: Yeah, of course I could

HOLLANDER: It’s just he’s an asshole, you know?

HUNTER: and we’re back into the territory of why you wanna sleep with him them

HUNTER: *then.

HUNTER: I mean I get the physical appeal, I guess

HUNTER: but if that’s it, there are less toxic ways to get your dick wet

HOLLANDER: he’s not that bad off the ice

HOLLANDER: And I guess I kind of like that he’s an asshole?

HOLLANDER: I mean it can be sort of funny?

HUNTER: OH

HUNTER: okay that makes sense

HOLLANDER: ???

HUNTER: it turns you on, I get it

HUNTER: pretty common kink TBH

HOLLANDER: oh

HOLLANDER: It is?

HUNTER: yeah, kid, it is

HUNTER: especially for hockey players

HUNTER: do some of your teammates seem to fight with their girlfriends a lot?

HUNTER: like they talk about doing stupid shit just to rile them up?

HUNTER: but their girls don’t actually seem that angry?

HUNTER: like they’re just arguing about stupid shit for the fun of it?

HOLLANDER: OH

HOLLANDER: okay yeah, I’ve seen that

HUNTER: same thing

HOLLANDER: Okay

HOLLANDER: I guess that makes sense

HOLLANDER: thanks for explaining

HOLLANDER: 😂I guess that kinda illustrates the problem

HOLLANDER: and I know you can’t, like, teach me everything

HOLLANDER: but I’d still prefer not to come across as some kind of dumb virgin

HUNTER: it’s okay if it gets embarrassing and awkward

HUNTER: sex is SUPPOSED to be embarrassing and awkward

HUNTER: if you can both just laugh it off then you’re golden

HUNTER: best sex is when you’re both laughing

HOLLANDER: Yeah, but I don’t want him to laugh at me because I can’t say the word dildo or something

HOLLANDER: And anyway there’s some questions that I trust you on more

HUNTER: fair

HUNTER: okay shoot

HOLLANDER: okay so when we sucked each other off we didn’t use condoms

HOLLANDER: But the stuff I’ve looked up since about safe sex I’ve seen says that’s a bad idea?

HUNTER: I mean yeah, it is

HOLLANDER: but I’m not sure if it’s just like, a bad idea in the same way I shouldn’t play on bruised ribs?

HOLLANDER: or like I shouldn’t drive 5 miles over the speed limit?

HOLLANDER: or if it’s an actual, like, not wearing your helmet or seat belt kinda thing

HOLLANDER: in which case maybe I should talk to him about it

HUNTER: well first off

HUNTER: you actually SHOULDN’T play on bruised ribs

HUNTER: unless it’s the playoffs

HUNTER: or a REALLY important game

HOLLANDER: Okay granddad

HUNTER: ☹️

HUNTER: see now you’re starting to sound like him

HUNTER: I’m helping you with a deeply personal problem

HUNTER: out of the goodness of my own heart

HUNTER: and this is the disrespect I get

HOLLANDER: shit

HOLLANDER: I’m sorry

HUNTER: 🤣

HUNTER: you’re fine kid

HUNTER: even if you’re gonna end up with chronic pain like me

HUNTER: okay condoms for blow jobs

HUNTER: if not wearing a helmet is a 10 and driving just over the speed limit is a 1

HUNTER: I’d say it’s about a 3 or 4?

HUNTER: goes up to a 7 if you have bleeding cuts in your lips or mouth though

HUNTER: so given your boy’s reputation and how much damage we do to ourselves during games, its 😬

HUNTER: but your team doc’ll probably test you whenever you ask, right?

HOLLANDER: oh, yeah

HOLLANDER: you just gotta go in and they’ll run a full panel in a couple days

HOLLANDER: some of the guys do it after every roadie 🙄

HUNTER: okay so

HUNTER: just tell Roz to test up the week before he comes out

HUNTER: and not sleep with anyone else until after you fuck

HUNTER: you trust him to tell you the truth on that?

HOLLANDER: yes

HOLLANDER: okay thanks that works

HUNTER: 👍

HOLLANDER: on preparation

HOLLANDER: I read a few things on having to do an enema beforehand?!?

HOLLANDER: and that just seems really messy and time-consuming

HOLLANDER: like I definitely don’t want it to be gross during!!

HOLLANDER: But I have a dildo and I never did that and it went fine?

HUNTER: okay so that kind of depends on your personal comfort level with shit

HUNTER: and your diet

HUNTER: like you’re right, if you’re pretty regular and don’t tend toward diarrhea and shit

HUNTER: majority of time just poop beforehand and you’ll be fine

HUNTER: and if you feel something coming just stop and go to the bathroom

HUNTER: basically like needing to pee during a blow job

HUNTER: especially if your not planning on going too long

HUNTER: and first time with a couple teenagers I wouldn’t really expect it to last too long

HUNTER: no offense

HOLLANDER: fuck you

HOLLANDER: 🤣

HOLLANDER: but yeah, so far it’s been pretty fast

HOLLANDER: but we were in hotel rooms so we didn’t have a lot of time anyway

HOLLANDER: and obviously we didn’t fuck

HUNTER: well if you’re prepping for more of a marathon session

HUNTER: or you want to do the whole thing just to make sure

HUNTER: it’s really not as intense as the tutorials make it sound

HUNTER: and you can use a shower attachment

HUNTER: how about I read some of the tutorials and make comments for you?

HUNTER: less embarrassing all around

HOLLANDER: YES THANK YOU

HOLLANDER: 🙏

HOLLANDER: that would be amazing

HOLLANDER: Also how much does it hurt?

HOLLANDER: like really I don’t mind some pain

HOLLANDER: I’ve taken my dildo with no prep at all, just lube, and it was fine

HOLLANDER: but obviously i can’t really FUCK myself with it, you know?

HOLLANDER: I just want to know at what point I need to be worried

HOLLANDER: Like about not being able to practice the next day without anyone noticing me limping

HUNTER: okay first of all

HUNTER: you can play around with sadomasochism when it’s NOT your first time

HUNTER: if it hurts anything beyond a little burn tell him to slow down and use more lube

HOLLANDER: fine

HOLLANDER: 😾

HUNTER: NOT THE POUTY FACE

HUNTER: JESUS CHRIST KID

HUNTER: you’re killing me

HOLLANDER: 🖕

HUNTER: anyway for the future

HUNTER: it can be anywhere from not hurting at all to getting slammed into the boards painful

HUNTER: but like slammed into the boards by Kent not Price

HUNTER: and our pain tolerance?

HUNTER: you’ll be fine as long as he doesn’t fuck you dry

HUNTER: or keep pounding you for an hour straight or something

HOLLANDER: that’s great

HOLLANDER: thanks

HUNTER: anything else?

HOLLANDER: …

HOLLANDER: is there anything I can do to make it better for him?

HUNTER: honestly? Biggest thing is communication

HUNTER: when I’m fucking someone I get the most into it when THEY’RE really into it

HUNTER: be loud

HUNTER: be enthusiastic

HUNTER: tell him how good it is for you

HUNTER: otherwise I’d say just do whatever feels good for you

HUNTER: unapologetically

HUNTER: you’re fucking hot, kid

HUNTER: you’ll be fine

HOLLANDER: okay 😊

HOLLANDER: I think that’s everything

HOLLANDER: seriously thank you man

HUNTER: no problem

HUNTER: happy to help

HUNTER: but maybe don’t tell Roz you asked me 🤣

HUNTER: I don’t need that level of drama in my life

HOLLANDER: as if I would 🙄

HOLLANDER: I’d be getting chirped about taking lessons from dinosaurs for the rest of time

HOLLANDER: Maybe even longer than you’ve been around

HUNTER: 🖕

HOLLANDER: oh and no offense

HOLLANDER: But would you mind deleting these texts?

HUNTER: already done

Wed, Mar 18 at 7:12 PM EST

HUNTER: so how did things end up going?

Wed, Mar 27 at 8:47 PM EST

HUNTER: That bad, huh? 😬🫣

Wed, Apr 9 at 10:32 PM EST

HUNTER: You guys had a good, solid season for a team in the middle of a rebuild. You’ll make the playoffs next year!

Thu, Jun 16 at 7:12 PM EST

HOLLANDER: Hey, I’m sorry I never got back to you.

HOLLANDER: I just got really stressed out with the end of the season.

HOLLANDER: But I guess I’ll see you next weekend at the awards?

Thu, Jun 16 at 10:28 PM EST

HUNTER: No worries. I’m here if you ever need anything. And hell yeah, I’ll be there! I wouldn’t miss the chance to see you get the Calder!

Fri, Jun 17 at 6:12 AM EST

HOLLANDER: don’t say that!

HOLLANDER: You’ll jinx it. Could easily go to Rozanov

Fri, Jun 17 at 10:33 AM EST

HUNTER: well at least you didn’t say Lemaire

HUNTER: but c’mon, you beat him in overall points, corsi, +/-. Only things he has on you are faceoffs and goals, and those he just barely edged you out

Fri, Jun 17 at 2:15 PM EST

HOLLANDER: go outside right now, turn around three times, and spit

HOLLANDER: or when I lose, I’m blaming it on you

HOLLANDER: faceoffs and goals are like, the most important part of being a center!

HOLLANDER: and he got more ice time than me, which basically negates corsi and +/-

HOLLANDER: plus his team went to the playoffs and mine didn’t

HUNTER: that’s not on you, it’s on the team. And if I were voting, I’d say that more ice time means you did more with less.

HUNTER: you got this in the bag, rook

HOLLANDER: we’ll see

HUNTER: you wanna put some $$ on it?

HOLLANDER: 🤣

HOLLANDER: you want me to bet against myself?

HUNTER: why not? If you win the bet, it’s at least a small silver lining on losing the trophy

HOLLANDER: you know, I think I figured out why you haven’t won the Cup yet

HUNTER: bite your tongue, boy

HOLLANDER: what stakes would we even go for?

HUNTER: oh really, you’re in for this? hmm

HUNTER: we could always go for the traditional five gees

HUNTER: but that seems a little boring…

HUNTER: how about winner has to do something mildly embarrassing at the afterparty?

HUNTER: dealer’s choice.

HOLLANDER: 😏 you’re on

Sun, Jun 26 at 8:47 AM PST

HOLLANDER: I can’t believe you made me do that

HOLLANDER: jesus my head is killing me

Sun, Jun 26 at 9:15 AM PST

HUNTER: I’m honestly impressed you’re awake before noon, lmao

HUNTER: that was a lot of tequila you put away

HOLLANDER: aren’t you supposed to be a GOOD role model?

HOLLANDER: fuck, my mom had already gone to bed, right?!?!

HUNTER: relax

HUNTER: neither of your parents were there, I checked

HUNTER: and I didn’t let Ovi get video

HUNTER: even though he really wanted to!

HOLLANDER: I haven’t done a shoe check since I was in juniors

HUNTER: it’s a classic for a reason

HUNTER: anyway, sid had it coming

HOLLANDER: ???

HUNTER: he knows what he did

Wed, Aug 24 at 8:57 PM EST

HOLLANDER: hey, can I ask you another question?

Wed, Aug 24 at 10:42 PM EST

HUNTER: oh lord jesus, please just let it not be as traumatic as the last time

Wed, Aug 24 at 11:25 PM EST

HUNTER: come on I was kidding

Wed, Aug 25 at 12:09 AM EST

HUNTER: I’m sorry! 🥺

Thu, Aug 25 at 5:35 AM EST

HOLLANDER: omg I fell asleep, chill out 😂

Thu, Aug 25 at 9:15 AM EST

HUNTER: at 10:30 at night?

HOLLANDER: yeah?

HOLLANDER: I mean, I get up at 5AM

HOLLANDER: you don’t?

HUNTER: when I have to be awake until midnight after most games?

HUNTER: no, i do not regularly get up at 5 in the fucking morning you psychopath

HUNTER: like, what the actual hell, kid

HUNTER: your coach doesn’t make you do that, does he?

HUNTER: cause I think that’s reportable to the PA

HOLLANDER: well, no

HOLLANDER: we usually don’t start practice until 10:30

HOLLANDER: but I have my own routine to follow first

HUNTER: sure

HUNTER: but FIVE?

HUNTER: how do you get eight hours after game nights?

HOLLANDER: afternoon naps!

HOLLANDER: that way I’m fresh for the game

HUNTER: 🤔 suppose that’s workable

HUNTER: still seems early

HUNTER: I take power naps before late games but usually 20-40 minutes, not enough to make up for half a night’s sleep

HOLLANDER: I like having my mornings to myself

HUNTER: fair

HUNTER: anyway, sorry, got us off on a tangent

HUNTER: you had a question?

HUNTER: that will hopefully not scar us both for life

HOLLANDER: 😒

HOLLANDER: Okay so my mom and I are arguing about training camp

HUNTER: (I’m just kidding, you can ask me the sex shit, I signed up for this eyes open)

HOLLANDER: 🙄

HUNTER: okay sorry, training camp

HOLLANDER: yeah. So last year, they said I could skip rookie camp if I wanted to, but I went anyway

HOLLANDER: My mom thought it would look arrogant if I didn’t go

HOLLANDER: Like I knew I didn’t have to fight for a spot like the rest of the new guys

HUNTER: I mean you DID fight for it

HUNTER: you kicked ass for that spot

HUNTER: as proven by all your Juniors trophies

HUNTER: but yeah going anyway was a good idea

HUNTER: there was always gonna be some players who got their noses out of joint when you came in and started smashing records and getting ALL the ice time

HUNTER: probably worth a try to prove you weren’t expecting any special treatment

HOLLANDER: That’s what my mom said

HOLLANDER: I don’t know how much good it did

HOLLANDER: But yeah I went and it was fine

HOLLANDER: But then this year she wants me to go again?

HOLLANDER: She says it’s a good opportunity to show I’m ready for leadership?

HOLLANDER: But I don’t know

HOLLANDER: Like it’s not like an optional skate

HOLLANDER: it’s one date for the rookies and invites and a different date for the veterans

HOLLANDER: I think if I show up at the beginning it’ll just seem like I’m a tryhard

HOLLANDER: A suck up coach’s pet, you know?

HOLLANDER: At BEST

HOLLANDER: At worst it’ll look like I just can’t read instructions

HUNTER: mmm

HUNTER: gotcha

HUNTER: have they given you an A yet?

HOLLANDER: No

HOLLANDER: Cap’s talking about retiring soon so maybe next season?

HOLLANDER: Bertie and Oz have the As now

HUNTER: okay and that’s Comeau and Ozeransky, right?

HUNTER: do you know if they’re showing up early?

HOLLANDER: yeah

HOLLANDER: I mean yeah that’s who it is

HOLLANDER: they’re not coming early

HOLLANDER: Cap and Oz are both with their families

HOLLANDER: And Bertie’s at some party beach down in Florida with his girl of the month

HUNTER: K then yeah definitely don’t go

HUNTER: it’ll make it look like you’re trying to show them up

HOLLANDER: THANK YOU

HOLLANDER: That’s exactly what I thought

HOLLANDER: Okay I got to go talk to my mom before she tells anyone I’m coming

HOLLANDER: But seriously, thanks

HUNTER: 🤣

HUNTER: any time, kid

Sat, Oct 8 at 3:15 PM EST

HOLLANDER: Holy shit that was a FILTHY goal

Sat, Oct 8 at 4:25 PM EST

HUNTER: fuck off

HUNTER: 🖕

HOLLANDER: ???

HUNTER: oh. you were serious?

HOLLANDER: Yes?!?

HUNTER: shit, sorry

HUNTER: I’m just pissed about the game

HUNTER: doesn’t fucking matter if I score a nice goal in the 3rd when we’re already down by 4

HOLLANDER: Oh

HOLLANDER: Sorry

HOLLANDER: Yeah it was a shitshow

HOLLANDER: Sucks to go down in your opener

HOLLANDER: And to Buffalo 🫣😬

HUNTER: jesus rub it in why dont you

HOLLANDER: But it was a really fucking awesome goal

Thu, Oct 13 at 8:05 PM EST

HUNTER: Hey, I’m sorry I was an asshole last week

Thu, Oct 13 at 8:32 PM EST

HUNTER: though of course I know you like assholes

HUNTER: how are things between you and your boyfriend, anyway?

HOLLANDER: He’s not my boyfriend

HOLLANDER: we aren’t anything

HUNTER: okay

HOLLANDER: shut up

HUNTER: I literally said okay but now I think the rookie doth protest too much

HOLLANDER: fuck off

HOLLANDER: not a rookie anymore

HUNTER: you know I was GOING to offer to take you out for a drink after the game next week

HUNTER: but if you’re going to be a brat about it…

HOLLANDER: 🥺

HUNTER: ugh, fine

HUNTER: don’t aim those things in my direction

HUNTER: they’re a lethal weapon

HUNTER: Emerald Eye, 36th between 8th and 9th, tell them you’re with me

HOLLANDER: okay!

Fri, Oct 21 at 1:15 AM EST

HUNTER: text me when you get back to your hotel room okay?

HOLLANDER: Jesus christ I’m NOT that drunk

HUNTER: still would’ve been happier if you’d let me walk you back

HOLLANDER: Sure and then ill have the guys on me for months about how your my babysitter or something

HOLLANDER: Fuck that

HOLLANDER: They make enough fun of me as it is

HUNTER: ☹️

HUNTER: it really doesn’t sound like you’re having the greatest time out there in montreal

HOLLANDER: I told you its fine

HOLLANDER: Like youve never been chirped?

HOLLANDER: Its just how things are

HUNTER: I mean some teasing is normal yeah

HUNTER: but this seems like more than that

HOLLANDER: it’s rookie hazing

HUNTER: your not a rookie anymore, remember?

HOLLANDER: Ive got it under onctrol, asshole

HOLLANDER: *control

HOLLANDER: shell come around once we start winning

HOLLANDER: *they’ll

HOLLANDER: Its always been like this for me

HOLLANDER: guys like you just don’t get it

HUNTER: guys like me?

HUNTER: what does that mean

HOLLANDER: white

HOLLANDER: normal

HOLLANDER: not weird AF

HOLLANDER: Fuck i am drink

HOLLANDER: *drunk

HOLLANDER: sorry

HUNTER: fuck

HUNTER: no, I’m sorry it’s like that for you

HUNTER: are you back at your hotel room?

HOLLANDER: Not yet

HOLLANDER: close

HOLLANDER: Okay how drunk was I when I left

HOLLANDER: Cause a person?!?! I think?? In a dog costume just patted me on the shoulder and said it was all going to be okay?

HOLLANDER: But like not a normal dog costume for halloween

HOLLANDER: It had like big eyes and paws and a muscle

HOLLANDER: a *muffle

HOLLANDER: a muzzle

HOLLANDER: wait no that’s not whatit’s called

HOLLANDER: A SNOUT

HOLLANDER: And there was another dog next to him nodding along

HUNTER: 🤣

HUNTER: yeah that’s just new york

HOLLANDER: Okay that’s a relief I guess

HOLLANDER: Im sorry i went off on you like that

HOLLANDER: Your a good guy

HUNTER: it’s okay

HUNTER: you’re right I don’t know how it is

HUNTER: but I want you to know that I would never let a rookie be treated like that in my locker room

HUNTER: I know I’m white but I have guys on my team who aren’t

HUNTER: not every team is like that

HOLLANDER: not a rookie any more, remember?

HOLLANDER: you don’t need to protect me

HUNTER: you’ll always be a rookie to me, kid

HOLLANDER: 🖕

HOLLANDER: I’m back at the hotel

HUNTER: thanks

HUNTER: drink some water before you go to sleep

HOLLANDER: okay DAD

HUNTER: 🖕

Mon, Nov 14 at 2:05 PM EST

HOLLANDER: Any pointers for getting a teammate to admit he’s injured?

HOLLANDER: When you’re not the captain and he’ll just call you a pussy if you act worried

HUNTER: challenge him to a game that’ll stress the injury

HUNTER: ping pong for ribs

HUNTER: Foosball for wrists

HUNTER: pull out dance revolution or something like it for lower body

HUNTER: or one of those yoga balls with the handles if he hurt his groin

HUNTER: lots of dumb games with those

HUNTER: if he refuses you can chirp him mercilessly about being too weak for a game until he agrees to get it treated

HUNTER: and if he doesn’t he’ll show the injury in play

HOLLANDER: smart

HOLLANDER: thanks

Sun, Nov 27 at 11:11 AM EST

HUNTER: your turn to host after the game

HUNTER: do you actually frequent bars in Montreal, or should I plan for a chuck e. cheese?

HUNTER: bar, got it

HUNTER: I’ll make sure not to get you so drunk this time

HOLLANDER: 🖕

Thu, Dec 8 at 11:36 PM EST

HOLLANDER: here

HUNTER: ten mins

Fri, Dec 16 at 9:05 AM EST

HOLLANDER: You already have plans for Christmas, right?

HUNTER: ????

HOLLANDER: Okay so that time with the question about training camp

HOLLANDER: I told my mom that we were friends

HOLLANDER: I’m sorry but she wouldn’t stop ARGUING with me

HOLLANDER: And I knew “Scott Hunter says it’s a bad idea” would work

HUNTER: kid. it’s fine if your mom knows we’re friends

HOLLANDER: But now she thinks you don’t have anywhere to go for christmas

HOLLANDER: Because uh. Yeah. You know why

HUNTER: right

HOLLANDER: And I mean don’t get me wrong you’re welcome to come but

HOLLANDER: I’m sure you don’t WANT to come and spend christmas in fucking Ottawa

HOLLANDER: with my mom fawning all over you

HOLLANDER: But she’s insisting I ask you

HUNTER: 🤣

HOLLANDER: I’m sorry again

HUNTER: 🤣

HOLLANDER: Jesus

HOLLANDER: Just kill me now

HUNTER: 🤣

HOLLANDER: fuck

HOLLANDER: please put me out of my misery

HOLLANDER: I feel like that kid whose mom had to ask a girl out on a date for him

HUNTER: your fine kid

HUNTER: it’s sweet

HUNTER: tell your mom I appreciate it

HUNTER: but I do actually have plans

HUNTER: I host a party for the team every year for the guys with no other plans

HUNTER: the Europeans always come

HUNTER: break’s not long enough for them to fly home

HUNTER: and we usually get a few others who don’t wanna go home for whatever reason

HUNTER: but seriously

HUNTER: your moms great

HUNTER: cherish that shit, kid

HOLLANDER: She is. And I do.

HOLLANDER: And if you do ever need a place to go

HOLLANDER: For christmas or whatever

HOLLANDER: My folks would always be happy to have you

HUNTER: thanks 🙂

Thu, Jan 5 at 8:05 PM EST

HUNTER: so all stars in Ottawa this year

HUNTER: they must already be renaming the streets in your honor, right?

HOLLANDER: 🙄

HUNTER: jsyk I told Carter you’re going to show us all the best spots after the game

HOLLANDER: 🖕

HOLLANDER: Fine

HOLLANDER: I’ll ask my dad to give us a tour of Parliament Hill

HOLLANDER: Play stupid games win stupid prizes

Sun, Jan 15 at 4:02 PM PST

HUNTER: you looking forward to seeing Roz again?

HOLLANDER: my PARENTS will be there

HOLLANDER: Anyway I keep telling you it’s not like that

HUNTER: right, right

HUNTER: I forgot

Thu, Jan 26 at 2:27 PM EST

HUNTER: just landed

HOLLANDER: At the hotel bar

HOLLANDER: I’m supposed to be shmoozing 😩

HUNTER: don’t knock it, kid

HUNTER: you’re paying for your retirement right now

HOLLANDER: Yeah, yeah, Dad, i know

HUNTER: 😒

HUNTER: remind me to teach you the drinking game Carter and I invented

HUNTER: helps make it a LOT less boring

HOLLANDER: 👀

Fri, Jan 27 at 6:04 PM EST

HUNTER: your boy roz is spending a lot of time glaring at me

HUNTER: for a guy who it “isn’t like that” with

HOLLANDER: 🙄

Tue, Feb 21 at 1:47 PM EST

HOLLANDER: You ever trained with Jameson?

HOLLANDER: Thinking about him for this summer

HUNTER: Yeah he’s great

HUNTER: would definitely go with him if you get the chance

HUNTER: I’ll send you some programs that worked well for me

HOLLANDER: thanks!

Sun, Mar 11 at 4:36 PM CST

HOLLANDER: Refs fucking STOLE that game from you

HOLLANDER: Seriously the way Liberne called that game was criminal

HUNTER: it’s the way it goes

HUNTER: I don’t get too worked up by it anymore

HUNTER: but thanks

Sat, Mar 17 at 2:18 PM EST

HUNTER: would you mind if some guys from my team joined us next week after the game?

HUNTER: maybe you could bring a few from your side as well?

HUNTER: or would you prefer to stay 1 on 1?

HOLLANDER: hell yeah, that sounds great

HOLLANDER: I can bring Pike and Boizeau

HOLLANDER: they didn’t believe me when I said we’re actually friends

HUNTER: perfect

HUNTER: I’ll bring Benny and Carter

HUNTER: they’re good guys

HOLLANDER: Looking forward to it

Thu, Apr 27 at 9:13 PM EST

HOLLANDER: Christ. Kent is a fucking asshole

HUNTER: nah Rozanov is an asshole

HUNTER: hell I’m an asshole in the right mood

HUNTER: Kent is a fucking douchenozzle on steroids

HUNTER: worst pest in the league

HUNTER: wept tears of blood when Toronto edged out Philly for the sixth seed

HUNTER: if I ever see him in a dark alley I will not be held liable for my actions

HOLLANDER: If you ever see him in a dark alley call me

HOLLANDER: I’ll show up with a crowbar

Thu, May 3 at 11:21 PM EST

HUNTER: impressive showing in your first playoffs, kid

HOLLANDER: 🙄

HOLLANDER: you think a first round loss is impressive?

HOLLANDER: don’t patronise me

HUNTER: hey

HUNTER: I wasn’t

HUNTER: yeah it always sucks to lose

HUNTER: especially to Boston 🤪

HUNTER: but Montreal hasn’t made the playoffs in three years

HUNTER: just getting that fifth seed was a hell of an achievement

HUNTER: AND you took them to seven games

HUNTER: and you putting up fifteen points in one series? 😮

HUNTER: that’s sure as hell not nothing

HUNTER: remember that you’re not the only guy on the team, kid

HUNTER: no way you could carry them the whole way this year

HUNTER: but they’re building around you

HUNTER: you’ll get there. probably faster than you think

HOLLANDER: Thanks

HOLLANDER: Really, I mean it

Thu, May 17 at 11:32 PM EST

HOLLANDER: I’m sorry

HOLLANDER: You played really well

HOLLANDER: It was a good series

HOLLANDER: It could really have gone either way

HUNTER: thanks

HUNTER: I’m not too disappointed

HUNTER: we wouldn’t have taken it all the way this year no matter what

HUNTER: too many injuries

HUNTER: if it just hadn’t been to the fucking Pitts

HUNTER: fuck his shoes, I should have have you put butter up Sid’s damn smug nose

HUNTER: swear to god, if he takes the Cup again this year I’m going to puke

HOLLANDER: 🤣

Sat, Jun 16 at 9:27 AM EST

HOLLANDER: puking yet?

HUNTER: I’m in mourning.

HUNTER: don’t even talk to me for a week 😭

HOLLANDER: idk maybe I should be looking up a new mentor 🤪

HUNTER: 🖕brat

Thu, Jun 28 at 9:27 AM EST

HOLLANDER: jesus fucking christ

HOLLANDER: I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to close my legs again

HUNTER: uhhhhhh…..?

HUNTER: I thought Roz was in Russia?

HUNTER: oh damn, did you finally move on?

HUNTER: I’m hurt, I could have helped you find a new man, kid

HOLLANDER: Fuck you

HOLLANDER: My legs hurt because of the hip stretches you dickfuck

HOLLANDER: Why the fuck did you tell me to go with Jameson?

HOLLANDER: the man is a sadist

HUNTER: pain loves company

Fri, Aug 10 at 8:13 AM MST

HOLLANDER: Is the MLHPA gonna work this out or not?!?!

HOLLANDER: I mean I get the players complaints

HOLLANDER: And I know I’m speaking from a place of privilege

HOLLANDER: But I don’t want a lockout

HUNTER: yeah there’ll be a deal end of this month at the latest

HUNTER: unfortunately Crowell’s ruthless

HUNTER: and he and the board of governors hold most of the cards here

HOLLANDER: fuck

HOLLANDER: Like I’m glad we’ll get to play

HOLLANDER: But I really wanted some of the stuff the players wanted to go through

HOLLANDER: especially about harassment and hazing ☹️

HUNTER: you and me both kid

Fri, Aug 10 at 11:24 AM MST

HUNTER: okay, sorry, but once again I have to ask

HUNTER: you SURE you’re okay out there in Montreal, kid?

HOLLANDER: I’m fine

HOLLANDER: But you know

HOLLANDER: A lot of unnecessary shit the last couple years that I could have done without

HUNTER: yeah 😐

Mon, Sep 10 at 11:24 AM EST

HUNTER: so what was it you said?

HUNTER: you’re doing fine in Montreal?

HUNTER: 🤣

HUNTER: just a maybe on the A this year?

HOLLANDER: 🤯

HOLLANDER: I’m still pinching myself FR

HOLLANDER: I never expected this

HOLLANDER: I mean yeah, I hoped I’d get the C one day

HOLLANDER: But third year?!?

HOLLANDER: I’m still on my ELC!

HUNTER: you deserve it, kid

HOLLANDER: idk I think it’s cause Oz and Bertie were both campaigning so hard for it

HOLLANDER: Lines were starting to be drawn, you know?

HOLLANDER: So Lecav figured if he went with either of them it could tear the room apart

HOLLANDER: but if they went with me they got a blank slate that Coach could write over however he wants

HUNTER: maybe

HUNTER: but you are the best player on that team and they know it

HOLLANDER: …

HOLLANDER: maybe

HUNTER: wow

HUNTER: progress

HOLLANDER: fuck off

HOLLANDER: I know how good I am

HOLLANDER: but the captaincy is about more than how good you are on the ice, isn’t it?

HOLLANDER: like I just don’t know if I’m ready for the rest of it

HOLLANDER: I don’t know if the guys take me seriously enough

HUNTER: yeah of course it is

HUNTER: but i know you know the rulebook up and down

HUNTER: and you’re already good at talking to the refs right?

HOLLANDER: sure

HUNTER: so it’s really just managing the room that’s worrying you

HOLLANDER: yeah ig

HUNTER: you’re young but there isn’t a player in this league who doesn’t respect your grit, discipline, and skills

HUNTER: and you’re not meant to manage the room alone

HUNTER: it’s the coach’s responsibility at tenth and last

HUNTER: you’re supposed to be his partner, yeah, the voice of the room, its inspiration

HUNTER: but not its director

HUNTER: and your As will help, too

HUNTER: you got this, kid

HOLLANDER: thanks

HOLLANDER: That means a lot

HUNTER: I’m proud of you, Hollzy

HUNTER: and hey if they think your a blank slate

HUNTER: they’re gonna find out how wrong they are, right?

Tue, Oct 16 at 6:05 PM CST

HOLLANDER: Okay, so JJ and Hayden might’ve bragged a bit about getting drinks with you last season

HOLLANDER: And now all the guys wanna show you a good time after our next game

HUNTER: huh

HUNTER: so I know your a beginner at the whole gay thing

HUNTER: but this isn’t how an invite to a gangbang usually goes

HOLLANDER: what?!

HOLLANDER: No!

HOLLANDER: that’s wasn’t what I mean

HOLLANDER: I just meant like to a BAR!

HOLLANDER: Like after the last game

HOLLANDER: …

HUNTER: penny in the air

HOLLANDER: JESUS FUCKING CHRIST

HUNTER: penny drops

HOLLANDER: Your fuckin g with me?!?!

HUNTER: 🤣🤣🤣

HOLLANDER: Fuck you, man

HUNTER: I’ll be happy to come out with your whole team after we kick your asses next week, kid

HOLLANDER: Never gonna happen

HOLLANDER: But MAYBE I’ll still buy you a beer after I humiliate your ancient ass on the ice

HUNTER: 🖕

Wed, Nov 7 at 4:11 PM EST

HOLLANDER: Hey, how’s it going?

HUNTER: can’t answer that

HUNTER: might jinx it

HUNTER: anyway you can see the tapes

HOLLANDER: Haha fair

HOLLANDER: But I meant, like, personally

HUNTER: 🤨

HUNTER: things are fine here

HUNTER: same old, same old

HUNTER: what’s up, kid?

HOLLANDER: well

HOLLANDER: …

HOLLANDER: Rozanov keeps texting me wanting to meet up again

HUNTER: okay, and… ?

HOLLANDER: I mean it’s a really bad idea, right?

HUNTER: 🤷I mean, no worse now than it always has been

HUNTER: if anything there’s an argument to be made that Rozanov is safer than anyone else you could hook up with

HUNTER: same secret, same pressures

HOLLANDER: yeah ig

HUNTER: so what’s different now?

HOLLANDER: uh

HOLLANDER: …

HOLLANDER: so we never actually met up again

HUNTER: ???

HUNTER: what, you mean since I caught the two of you at all stars?

HUNTER: I’m sorry, are you saying that you’ve been blueballing the russian menace for TWO YEARS and he’s STILL trying to get in your pants?!?!

HOLLANDER: a year and nine months

HOLLANDER: But, ig? sorta?

HOLLANDER: Like, we were going to next time we saw each other after that

HOLLANDER: But the game got canceled for a blizzard

HOLLANDER: and then he was an asshole at awards when we saw each other next

HOLLANDER: …

HOLLANDER: and after that I guess I just chickened out

HUNTER: ngl kid that is fucking impressive

HUNTER: that boy must be fucking GONE on you

HOLLANDER: i mean it’s not like he hasn’t entertained himself elsewhere in the meantime

HUNTER: true

HUNTER: wait so you haven’t had sex with anyone in two years, then?

HOLLANDER: there have been a couple puck-bunnies when I was out on the road

HOLLANDER: you know, on green light nights

HOLLANDER: partying with the boys

HUNTER: oh

HUNTER: okay

HOLLANDER: what? You knew I have sex with women, too

HUNTER: sure

HOLLANDER: I mean, how do you even…

HUNTER: hook up with guys?

HOLLANDER: yeah

HOLLANDER: I mean you do, right?

HUNTER: yeah, kid, I fuck

HUNTER: the whole virgin knight shtick is just a thing the league pinned on me

HUNTER: but never with another player

HUNTER: I had a few where I thought maybe they were interested

HUNTER: but I was never willing to risk it

HUNTER: how the hell did you and Rozanov find out about each other, anyway?

HOLLANDER: Um

HOLLANDER: He caught me looking at him in the showers

HOLLANDER: and then he started jerking off

HUNTER: JESUS FUCKING CHRIST

HUNTER: he CRUISED you?

HUNTER: wait, in WHAT showers? Was this before the all star game?!?!

HUNTER: the showers I WAS IN?!?

HOLLANDER: What’s cruising?

HOLLANDER: Never mind I googled it

HOLLANDER: Yeah, I guess he did that

HOLLANDER: No not at the all star game

HOLLANDER: it was after we did that photoshoot with CCM our rookie year

HUNTER: I remember that shoot

HUNTER: ARE YOU SAYING YOU STARTED FUCKING BEFORE YOU EVEN STARTED PLAYING?

HUNTER: JESUS FUCKING CHRIST

HUNTER: fucking epic

HUNTER: christ i’m gonna be living on that story for weeks

HOLLANDER: 🙄

HOLLANDER: So then if not players, who? where?

HOLLANDER: how do you trust people to keep it secret?

HUNTER: idk, I pick up like anyone else, just quieter

HUNTER: I go to gay bars

HUNTER: hit on guys in dark back rooms, glory holes

HUNTER: mostly during the summer

HUNTER: I travel a lot

HUNTER: greece, italy, spain

HUNTER: places where no one plays hockey and no one knows who i am

HUNTER: where everyone’s anonymous

HOLLANDER: oh

HOLLANDER: that’s smart

HOLLANDER: I don’t think I could manage it though

HOLLANDER: My mom has me so booked with photoshoots and stuff during the offseason

HOLLANDER: I only get like two weeks off a year

HOLLANDER: and it would look weird if I went somewhere like that alone

HUNTER: yeah I suppose

HUNTER: okay look feel free to tell me to fuck off with this but

HUNTER: do you enjoy having sex with women?

HOLLANDER: …

HOLLANDER: I get hard, I come

HOLLANDER: what’s not to like?

HUNTER: that’s not actually an answer

HUNTER: do you enjoy it?

HOLLANDER: Sure

HOLLANDER: It’s sex

HOLLANDER: Sex is nice

HUNTER: okay

HOLLANDER: …

Wed, Nov 7 at 4:47 PM EST

HUNTER: you still alive?

HOLLANDER: I have to go

HOLLANDER: My mom’s calling me

HUNTER: 👍

Mon, Nov 15 at 9:11 AM PST

HUNTER: I didn’t mean to scare you off last time

HOLLANDER: You didn’t scare me off

HOLLANDER: I had to talk to my mom

HUNTER: for a week?

HOLLANDER: fuck off

HUNTER: look its fine

HUNTER: I don’t think you have to label yourself right now

HUNTER: and you can totally enjoy sex with both men and women

HUNTER: I’m not judging

HOLLANDER: It’s fine

HOLLANDER: I’m just not going to meet up with him

HOLLANDER: It was a bad idea

HUNTER: okay

Tue, Nov 27 at 8:18 PM MST

HOLLANDER: What if I did meet up with him again?

HUNTER: then you do

HOLLANDER: it doesn’t have to mean anything, right?

HOLLANDER: it’s just getting it out of my head

HOLLANDER: blowing off some steam with someone who won’t expect anything from me

HUNTER: sure

Wed, Dec 12 at 6:04 PM EST

HUNTER: where for drinks this time?

HUNTER: your team coming?

HOLLANDER: Le Cirq

HOLLANDER: They’re holding the heated rooftop patio for us

HOLLANDER: And most of them yeah

HOLLANDER: Comeau and Drapeau and a few of the other guys think the admirals are “too tame” apparently?

HOLLANDER: Which I guess just means they know there won’t be any strippers 🙄

HUNTER: 👍

Tue, Jan 1 at 12:01 AM EST

HUNTER: happy new year, Hollzy

Thu, Jan 24 at 5:04 PM CST

HUNTER: where are you?

HOLLANDER: downstairs in the lobby

Thu, Jan 24 at 5:48 PM CST

HUNTER: couldn’t find you there

HOLLANDER: I was there

HOLLANDER: outside on the patio now

HOLLANDER: got too loud

HUNTER: 👍

Fri, Jan 25 at 8:04 AM CST

HUNTER: christ Tkachuk is an embarrassment

HOLLANDER: why is he even here?

HOLLANDER: he’s not an all star

HOLLANDER: he retired years ago

HUNTER: and yet Rozanov calls me a dinosaur

HOLLANDER: I think that makes Tkachuk an arthropod

HUNTER: oooh I’m using that

Fri, Jan 25 at 1:22 PM CST

HUNTER: and another record bites the dust

HUNTER: Roz is right

HUNTER: just put me in the ground now

HOLLANDER: you know you could just say congratulations like a normal person

HUNTER: have you met me?

Fri, Jan 25 at 6:22 PM CST

HOLLANDER: going to chill out in my room for a bit before dinner

HOLLANDER: see you down there in like an hour?

HUNTER: 👍

Sun, Jan 27 at 5:34 PM CST

HOLLANDER: their car will pull around in 5

HUNTER: already there

Wed, Jan 30 at 6:04 PM EST

HUNTER: I hope I didn’t embarrass you

HUNTER: I couldn’t tell if you actually wanted me to come or not when your dad suggested it

HOLLANDER: Are you kidding you were perfect

HOLLANDER: My mom’s still gonna be talking about how great you are this time next year

HOLLANDER: istg she might even be willing to root for new york

HOLLANDER: as long as your playing anyone but us ofc 🤣

HUNTER: lmao of course

HOLLANDER: I just hope I can keep her from coming to the all star game NEXT year

HOLLANDER: I tried this year but she acted like I was saying I didn’t love her anymore

HOLLANDER: I just wanted to get laid, mom!

HOLLANDER: You’ve already come three years in a row!

HOLLANDER: It’s really not that interesting!

HUNTER: 😂

HUNTER: let me know next time

HUNTER: happy to entertain your parents while you and Roz sneak off somewhere

HOLLANDER: … I might actually take you up on that

Thu, Jan 31 at 9:58 PM EST

HOLLANDER: how did you know you were gay?

HUNTER: oy gevalt

HOLLANDER: What does that mean

HOLLANDER: Never mind I googled it

HOLLANDER: Are you Jewish?

HUNTER: no, I’m just a new yorker

HUNTER: okay, we’re doing this, huh?

HUNTER: well, the giant crush I had on my roommate in Juniors was my first big “oh shit” moment

HUNTER: and then honestly? I watched a bunch of porn

HUNTER: of all types

HUNTER: tried to convince myself I could be attracted to women

HUNTER: just didn’t work

HUNTER: I couldn’t get off to women even just in my head

HUNTER: no spark

HUNTER: meanwhile when I looked at guys it was like

HUNTER: so, that pretty much sealed it for me

HOLLANDER: But how do you KNOW you couldn’t be happy with a woman?

HOLLANDER: like if you never actually tried

HUNTER: 🤷

HUNTER: how do I know I don’t want to eat sewer trash without trying it?

HUNTER: if it looks bad, smells bad, it’s probably gonna taste bad, dude

HOLLANDER: …

HUNTER: except not in a super misogynistic way

HUNTER: like that sounded

HUNTER: 😬🙈

HOLLANDER: glad I didn’t have to say it

Fri, Feb 4 at 8:05 PM EST

HUNTER: you okay?

HUNTER: that looked like a bad hit

HOLLANDER: Yes, Dad, I’m fine

HOLLANDER: medics didn’t even put me on concussion protocol

HOLLANDER: Just ice for the bruising

HUNTER: 🖕

Fri, Feb 8 at 1:05 PM EST

HOLLANDER: same bar?

HOLLANDER: whole team wants to come again

HOLLANDER: guess the haters got tired of hearing how much they missed out

HUNTER: I’ve told you before dude, I can’t take the whole team

HUNTER: five dicks max

HUNTER: you’ll have to suck the rest yourself

HOLLANDER: 😒

HUNTER: same bar is good

Sat, Feb 9 at 5:35 AM EST

HOLLANDER: Okay so then

HOLLANDER: What’s your plan?

HOLLANDER: Just be alone forever?

Sat, Feb 9 at 9:44 AM EST

HUNTER: jesus

HUNTER: not pulling any punches this morning, are you?

HOLLANDER: I’m serious. What’s your plan?

HOLLANDER: Just wait until retirement and then move somewhere no one knows you?

HOLLANDER: Live in obscurity the rest of your life?

HOLLANDER: Not have anyone by your side at the hall of fame ceremony?

HUNTER: yeah well

HUNTER: we can’t all have perfect hot as fuck secret boyfriends

HUNTER: who are willing to just wait around to fuck for three fucking years

HOLLANDER: Fuck off

HOLLANDER: He’s not my secret boyfriend

HOLLANDER: We’ve hooked up twice

HOLLANDER: it doesn’t mean I don’t like women

HOLLANDER: I’M not gay

HUNTER: okay

HOLLANDER: Fuck off

HUNTER: I said okay

Mon, Feb 11 at 10:12 AM EST

HOLLANDER: I’m sorry

HOLLANDER: I was being such an asshole

HOLLANDER: I’m really sorry

HUNTER: it’s fine, kid

HUNTER: I was being a dick, too

Sat, Feb 16 at 10:47 PM EST

HUNTER: jesus christ, hollzy, just go get fucking LAID

HUNTER: 😭😭😭

HUNTER: your giving me blue balls just fucking watching the two of you on the ice 🥵

HUNTER: how the fuck does nobody else see it

HUNTER: I mean why the fuck would you NOT hit that, kid?

Sat, Feb 16 at 11:25 PM EST

HOLLANDER: Jesus christ

HOLLANDER: Are you drunk?

Sun, Feb 17 at 12:01 AM EST

HOLLANDER: Hunter? Are you okay?

Sun, Feb 17 at 10:08 AM EST

HUNTER: hey, I’m sorry about last night

HUNTER: I’m fine

HUNTER: I was just having a pity party

HOLLANDER: It’s okay

HOLLANDER: I mean I was worried but you were cool when I was a dick so

HUNTER: we’ve got to work on your standards, kid

HOLLANDER: 🤷

Sun, Feb 24 at 3:13 PM EST

HOLLANDER: You really think I should hook up with Roz again?

HUNTER: YES

HUNTER: okay that came out a little strong

HOLLANDER: 😂

HUNTER: look never tell him that I said any of this

HUNTER: but I just don’t think you realize how lucky you are

HUNTER: me? I just go find some warm beaches in the summer where no one knows who I am

HUNTER: blow off steam for a few months to carry me through suffering from blue balls all fucking season

HUNTER: nine or ten months of fucking abstinence every year

HUNTER: nothing but meaningless flings even when I CAN have sex

HUNTER: rinse, repeat, and yeah, hopefully after retirement…

HUNTER: it fucking sucks

HOLLANDER: yeah. 😞

HUNTER: but you!

HUNTER: but you actually found a guy who can understand the pressure, the schedule, the craziness

HUNTER: the need for secrecy

HUNTER: who definitely isn’t going to pressure you to come out

HUNTER: and I will actually straight up kill you if you ever tell him I said this

HUNTER: but who is SMOKING hot

HUNTER: why the hell WOULDN’T you go for that?

HOLLANDER: Okay but what if it turns into more than just a hookup

HUNTER: yeah? what if it does

HOLLANDER: my parents expect me to get married and have kids

HOLLANDER: EVERYONE thinks I’ll get married and have kids

HOLLANDER: Fuck I WANT to get married and have kids

HOLLANDER: I DON’T want to be alone forever

HOLLANDER: I don’t want to have to lie to everyone else I care about

HUNTER: aren’t you lying to them either way?

HOLLANDER: It’s different if it’s just hooking up

HOLLANDER: Like that still isn’t great but it’s okay

HOLLANDER: It’s not like my mom doesn’t probably guess that I’ve fucked puck bunnies

HOLLANDER: she doesn’t WANT to know the details when it’s like that, you know?

HUNTER: sure

HOLLANDER: But if Rozanov and I end up being something

HOLLANDER: Then I’m hiding my boyfriend from my parents and my friends and that’s not okay

HOLLANDER: I can’t have someone in my life who I care about and hide it from everyone

HOLLANDER: And I know I’m jumping the gun here

HOLLANDER: Like I’m sure he wants to keep it casual too

HUNTER: i don’t know how to tell you this

HUNTER: but guys do not hang around for three years hoping to get lucky for a casual hookup

HOLLANDER: It’s been like two years

HOLLANDER: Two and half

HUNTER: 🙄

HUNTER: yes, sorry, Captain Pedantic

HUNTER: my point stands

HUNTER: I don’t think this is actually casual for either of you

HOLLANDER: But that’s my point

HOLLANDER: It has to be

HOLLANDER: It can’t be anything else

HOLLANDER: we can’t have anything else.

HUNTER: why not?

HOLLANDER: BECAUSE

HOLLANDER: Come on

HOLLANDER: It’s not like you don’t get it

HOLLANDER: You’re not out either

HUNTER: yeah okay so there’s some pot and kettle here

HUNTER: but I don’t see why needing to keep it under wraps means you can only have an emotionless hookup

HUNTER: and I think if it did you’re already shit up a creek

HUNTER: I’ve seen you talk about the guy when you’re three beers down, remember?

HUNTER: you’re not any less emotionally invested just because you haven’t let him put his dick in your ass

HUNTER: and making yourself miserable because you think that tomorrow you might meet a girl who will magically make you forget him is just fucking stupid, I’m sorry

HUNTER: isn’t it better to have what you can have now?

HUNTER: and maybe, when you retire…

HOLLANDER: but even then

HOLLANDER: I don’t want to go into the hall of fame as the first gay hockey player

HOLLANDER: I want to be remembered for something I DID

HOLLANDER: Not something I AM

HOLLANDER: That’s not who I want to be

HUNTER: yeah

HUNTER: that’s fucking hard, kid, I’m not going to lie

HUNTER: but be truthful with yourself

HUNTER: I want you to really imagine it

HUNTER: dating a woman, getting married, having kids with her

HUNTER: can you imagine being happy like that?

HUNTER: is keeping your legacy worth doing that to yourself?

HOLLANDER: …

HOLLANDER: fuck

HUNTER: I’m sorry, Shane

Sun, Mar 4 at 8:15 PM EST

HUNTER: just checking for proof of life, kid

HOLLANDER: Yeah I’m okay

HOLLANDER: Just recalibrating

HUNTER: I’m here if you need anything

HOLLANDER: thanks

Mon, Mar 20 at 2:18 PM EST

HUNTER: Benny wants to host after the game next month, at his place up in New Jersey

HUNTER: he’s got a whole game room and heated patio and shit

HUNTER: you think your Coach would let y’all use the team bus?

HOLLANDER: probably

HOLLANDER: He thinks your a good influence for some reason

HUNTER: 🖕

HOLLANDER: I’ll ask

Wed, Mar 22 at 10:33 AM EST

HOLLANDER: we’re a go on the bus

HUNTER: 👍

HUNTER: I’ll send over the deets by email so you can forward to your management

Wed, Apr 3 at 7:14 PM EST

HOLLANDER: What the fuck did you say to Oz?

HUNTER: down, boy

HOLLANDER: I swear to fucking god, Hunter

HUNTER: we just had a little chat about team culture

HOLLANDER: FOR FUCK’S SAKE

HOLLANDER: How many times do I have to say that I’m FINE?

HUNTER: he brought it up!!!

HOLLANDER: Yeah right

HUNTER: he DID

HOLLANDER: And you didn’t say ANYTHING to lead the conversation in that direction?

HUNTER: well

HOLLANDER: GODDAMMIT HUNTER

HOLLANDER: Why the hell did you talk to Oz and not me?

HUNTER: oh, because you’ve been so open to a conversation every time I’ve raised the topic?

HUNTER: anyway I had no idea HOW bad it was until I started talking to Oz

HUNTER: because you’ve fucking downplayed it every time we’ve talked about it

HOLLANDER: IT’S NOT THAT BAD

HOLLANDER: just because your team is full of fucking pussies, apparently

HUNTER: hey now!

HUNTER: back the fuck up!

HOLLANDER: seriously?

HOLLANDER: this is what I’m talking about!

HOLLANDER: this is what NORMAL locker rooms are like

HOLLANDER: idk where the hell you grew up that you haven’t been called a pussy or a cocksucker or a faggot or whatever the hell every fucking day of your life

HOLLANDER: but it’s sure as hell no team I’ve ever been on

HOLLANDER: and you know what? I like it

HOLLANDER: it means they think I’m one of them

HOLLANDER: that I’m tough enough to fucking take it

HOLLANDER: and you have no right to come in and try to stir up a fucking MUTINY on MY team just because you think I’m too fucking soft to deal with a little fucking trash talk

HUNTER: okay.

HUNTER: are you done?

HOLLANDER: …

HOLLANDER: for now.

HUNTER: okay. I don’t know what the hell Oz said to you

HOLLANDER: He started talking like we were in some kind of CONSPIRACY against our coach

HUNTER: because your coach is a fucking asshole!!

HOLLANDER: …

HOLLANDER: what the actual fuck

HUNTER: did Oz tell you that he was planning to leave after next season?

HOLLANDER: …

HOLLANDER: WHAT?

HOLLANDER: He’s the highest paid player on the team

HOLLANDER: Is this just because he didn’t get named captain?

HUNTER: it’s because your coach sucks

HUNTER: Comeau and Drapeau are fucking dicks

HUNTER: and Desjardins isn’t doing a thing to keep them under control

HUNTER: and Oz is sick of being their punching bag

HUNTER: it’s not about fucking slurs

HUNTER: although those AREN’T GREAT

HOLLANDER: …

HUNTER: NO. SIT DOWN AND FUCKING LISTEN

HUNTER: You had your say

HUNTER: now yes, I HAVE been in locker rooms where slurs didnt get used casually, in fact

HUNTER: including mine

HUNTER: but I’ve also been in ones where they were common and it wasn’t that big a problem, because the guys didn’t mean it THAT way

HUNTER: and they had your fucking back no matter where you came from or you were friends with or how weird you were

HUNTER: just because you were TEAM

HUNTER: they didn’t treat their captain like a fucking wind-up toy

HUNTER: or act like their opponents were an actual enemy

HUNTER: or get off on torturing the fucking rooks

HUNTER: or chirp their fucking goalie for being weird

HUNTER: like what the actual fuck was that

HUNTER: Goalies are SUPPOSED to be weird

HUNTER: that’s their whole fucking thing!

HOLLANDER: …

HUNTER: I am not done

HUNTER: so Oz sounded me out to try and tell if my locker room was a decent place to be

HUNTER: because he ALSO knows that the way the Metros are doing things isn’t fucking it and he’s sick of it

HUNTER: and I told him that he’d do fine here

HUNTER: but that if he wanted to fight for his room, you’d have his back

HUNTER: that you also wanted to change things

HUNTER: defend the rookies, end the hazing, get the guys to stop throwing the worst of the slurs directly into people’s faces

HUNTER: was I wrong?

HOLLANDER: …

HUNTER: was I WRONG, HOLLANDER?

HOLLANDER: Fuck you

HOLLANDER: No, you’re not wrong

HOLLANDER: But what happens if we try to change things and we can’t?

HOLLANDER: If we just get labeled as the problem

HUNTER: your ELC is up this year

HUNTER: have you already signed an extension?

HOLLANDER: No

HOLLANDER: I got a new agent for that

HOLLANDER: My mom already had too much to do with all my sponsorships

HOLLANDER: and team management doesn’t take her seriously

HUNTER: 😒

HOLLANDER: Yeah, yeah, I know

HOLLANDER: Anyway my new agent said I should stall on contract negotiations for a while

HOLLANDER: That if I do well in the playoffs and get close to July 1 without a contract

HOLLANDER: other teams will make offers that’ll drive my potential AAV up

HUNTER: good

HUNTER: solid strategy and also perfect for our purposes

HUNTER: I want you to MAKE yourself a problem

HUNTER: see how much of a difference it makes in AAV

HUNTER: because one, playing somewhere that management and your team have your back is more important than the number of 0s on your check every year

HUNTER: and because two, if they don’t come around the Admirals will happily bid for your contract

HUNTER: along with every other team in the League

HUNTER: you can have your pick and go somewhere they’ll appreciate you

HUNTER: or at least force Montreal to pay a premium to match the best offer you get

HUNTER: maybe if they have to pay through the nose to keep you, they’ll value you enough to do the damn work

HOLLANDER: but I don’t want to leave Montreal

HOLLANDER: I have friends here

HOLLANDER: It’s close to my family

HOLLANDER: They drafted me

HOLLANDER: Isn’t loyalty important?

HUNTER: of course loyalty is important

HUNTER: But it has to go both ways

HUNTER: if you want to stay in montreal, then make montreal a place that deserves you

HOLLANDER: And that’s what you’ve done in New York?

HUNTER: look I’m not going to bullshit you

HUNTER: I could have done more

HUNTER: I should still do more

HUNTER: I’m still scared to be fully myself here

HUNTER: but at least my coach and my GM take my opinions seriously

HUNTER: they respect my leadership in the room

HUNTER: if I say a guy is a problem, they hear me out

HUNTER: and my As have my back

HUNTER: Carter told me he feels safer here than any other place he’s ever played

HUNTER: that meant a hell of a lot to me

HOLLANDER: Yeah he said you were a great captain

HUNTER: you’ve got a hell of a lot of leverage right now, kid

HUNTER: more than you’ll have for another four years at least, until you hit UFA

HUNTER: USE it

HOLLANDER: okay

HOLLANDER: I’ll talk to Oz

HOLLANDER: But talk to ME next time, for fuck’s sake

HOLLANDER: I don’t like getting blindsided, okay?

HOLLANDER: but I promise I’ll listen

Wed, Apr 17 at 10:45 PM EST

HUNTER: congratulations on the 4th place seed

HUNTER: that’s a hell of a climb from last year

HUNTER: let alone from missing the playoffs entirely three years in a row

HOLLANDER: thanks!

HOLLANDER: and congrats on the #1

HOLLANDER Still pissed that Boston got above us in the end

HOLLANDER: By two fucking points!

HOLLANDER: But we’re gonna kick their ass

HOLLANDER: And then come for you

HUNTER: oh, go right ahead and come, sweetheart

HUNTER: we’re ready for you 😏😈

Fri, May 2 at 11:06 PM EST

HUNTER: well, well, well

HUNTER: won’t this be interesting

HOLLANDER: don’t worry, Dad, we’ll go easy on you

HUNTER: oh, yeah?

HUNTER: well, we’re not going to go easy on you at ALL

HUNTER: gonna fucking stomp you into the ice on the way to the Cup

HOLLANDER: In your dreams

HUNTER: please, you took seven games to get past Boston

HUNTER: while we hammered New Jersey 4-1

HUNTER: In a week’s time we’re gonna be on to the finals and you’re going to be playing golf

HOLLANDER: 🖕

HOLLANDER: Never gonna fucking happen

HOLLANDER: But, uh, speaking of Boston

HOLLANDER: I told Roz I’d let him fuck me in the fall

HUNTER: interesting timing

HUNTER: given the game that I just watched

HUNTER: please tell me that playing hard against each other is just what passes for foreplay for you two

HUNTER: and you didn’t literally bet your ass on a playoff series

HOLLANDER: …

HOLLANDER: ummmmm

HOLLANDER: Little bit of both?

HUNTER: 🤦

HOLLANDER: I’m still kinda nervous

HUNTER: You’re gonna be fine, kid

HUNTER: but honestly if you want to make him wait longer I say go for it

HUNTER: watching that menace turn somersaults for THREE YEARS to try to get back in your pants is prime fucking entertainment

HOLLANDER: pretty sure he’s been turning somersaults for me since 2009, actually

HOLLANDER: he set up that joint CCM commercial just so he could see me again 😏

HUNTER: I love that you’re a fucking menace, actually

HUNTER: and I’m one of the only ones who knows

HOLLANDER: 😼

Thu, May 9 at 10:45 PM EST

HUNTER: jesus kid

HUNTER: a hat trick in the fucking playoffs?

HUNTER: You know there’s being a star and there’s just being a showoff 🙄

HOLLANDER: are you actually texting me while we’re in the middle of a playoff series against each other?

HOLLANDER: and please, as if you’ve never scored a hat trick in the playoffs

HUNTER: 😂 not hollzy coming in with the receipts

HUNTER: just don’t be like me and peak at 24, huh?

HOLLANDER: what, because you haven’t scored another since?

HOLLANDER: come on

HOLLANDER: you know that less than 250 players have EVER gotten a playoff hat trick?

HOLLANDER: you’re not over the hill just because you haven’t repeated it yet

HOLLANDER: and we still shouldn’t be texting each other

HUNTER: oh come on

HUNTER: even if you somehow miraculously say something relevant

HUNTER: I’m not going to use it against you

HUNTER: if anything you should be encouraging me to keep talking

HUNTER: maybe I’ll let something drop

HUNTER: and you can get the credit from those cutthroat dicks on your team for betraying your loyal, longtime friend and mentor

HOLLANDER: 🙄 oh for fuck’s sake

HOLLANDER: obviously I wouldn’t do that

HOLLANDER: Wait, would that work?

HUNTER: Friends or no friends, I will personally break both your legs if it means advancing to the finals

HOLLANDER: Good

HOLLANDER: I wouldn’t want my first Cup to be tainted by the thought that you’d let me win

HUNTER: in your dreams kid

HOLLANDER: 🖕

HUNTER: well now that we’ve got that sorted

HUNTER: how are things with your team going?

HUNTER: I saw that you signed an extension

HUNTER: 8 million AAV is a nice haul

HUNTER: thought you were gonna wait for the summer, though

HOLLANDER: oh, and I’m supposed to believe that THAT’S not you fishing for info on the opposition?

HUNTER: I’m fishing for info on my friend

HOLLANDER: oh fine

HOLLANDER: It’s been a lot better

HOLLANDER: my agent told them I had culture concerns about signing an extension

HOLLANDER: And they told her they’d do whatever to keep me

HOLLANDER: so I talked to the team the next week during practice

HOLLANDER: Oz and Coach stood up and backed me up right away

HOLLANDER: There were some mutters about it at first

HOLLANDER: Calling us pussies and soft and special snowflakes and shit

HOLLANDER: But Coach benched the worst asshole during the next game

HOLLANDER: Made the rest do bag skates

HOLLANDER: And it’s pretty much stopped

HUNTER: wow. Sounds like someone must have given you some really good advice, huh?

HOLLANDER: oh shut up

HOLLANDER: and they offered me a full no-move, to kick in once I become eligible

HOLLANDER: so yeah, I signed

HOLLANDER: I know I could get more if I waited for other teams to make bids in the summer but at a certain point, it’s actually counter-productive for me to try and drum up the number, you know?

HOLLANDER: at this point in my career, I’d rather they took that money and invested it in other good players to surround me with. If we can win a few cups, I’ll make way more over the course of my career

HUNTER: yeah, totally fair

HUNTER: I mean, my contract is public record, you know I took the team-friendly deal, too

HUNTER: so the worst asshole, huh?

HUNTER: hmmm. Was that Comeau or Drapeau?

HUNTER: I could really see it going either way

HOLLANDER: couldn’t say

HOLLANDER: But I heard something interesting through the grapevine

HUNTER: 👀

HOLLANDER: Comeau’s talking about signing somewhere else when he hits UFA next year

HOLLANDER: I hope he ends up in Toronto

HOLLANDER: He’d fit right in there

HUNTER: hell yeah, kid

HUNTER: FUCK yeah

HUNTER: 👏👏👏👏👏

Sat, May 18 at 10:45 AM EST

HUNTER: I know I said it last night, but that was a helluva series, kid

HUNTER: No hard feelings, right?

HOLLANDER: of course not

HOLLANDER: you deserved the win and it was a fucking awesome series

HOLLANDER: just murder fucking pittsburgh for me, huh?

HUNTER: oh, they won’t even know what hit them 💅

Sun, June 2 at 10:45 PM EST

HOLLANDER: how are you holding up?

HUNTER: like I want to murder someone with my bare hands

HUNTER: just not sure if I want it to be a ref, Crosby, or myself

HOLLANDER: um

HUNTER: that was a joke

HUNTER: mostly. But don’t worry. I’ll get it all out over the summer and be back here ready to kick ass in the fall

HUNTER: and hey, Olympics next year, right?

HOLLANDER: yeah, congratulations on getting named captain!

HOLLANDER: that’s fucking awesome, man

HOLLANDER: looking forward to looking down at you on that podium

HUNTER: them’s some fighting words, kid

HUNTER: i promise you it’s gonna be USA all the way this time

HUNTER: miracle at lake placid but this time on russian ice

HOLLANDER: good luck with that. Canada will be banking on talent rather than an act of God

HUNTER: 🌈

HOLLANDER: Actually, speaking of which, I guess you probably won’t get as relaxing a summer as usual, right?

HOLLANDER: or at least they’re having us do a whole training camp thing next month

HUNTER: yeah, no, us too

HUNTER: I’ll miss the travel but it’s worth it. No point in going into the Olympics with a team full of future HOF if no one knows how to work together

HOLLANDER: yeah, absolutely

HOLLANDER: but, uh. I had kinda a crazy idea

HOLLANDER: Like totally crazy

HOLLANDER: No worries at all if you want to say no

HOLLANDER: You’ll probably say no

HOLLANDER: Never mind actually

HUNTER: Come on kid

HUNTER: you can’t leave it there

HUNTER: tell meeee

HUNTER: you got me all curious

HUNTER: I really don’t think it could be any crazier than what I’m imagining

HOLLANDER: Fine

HOLLANDER: I was thinking maybe you could fuck me this summer

HUNTER: 😳 I stand corrected

HOLLANDER: Never mind

HOLLANDER: sorry

HOLLANDER: It was clearly a bad idea

HUNTER: hey. I didn’t say no

HUNTER: I’m just confused

HUNTER: you have a thing for Rozanov

HOLLANDER: Well, yeah

HOLLANDER: but like, he’s fucking other people

HOLLANDER: no reason I can’t, too

HOLLANDER: I just thought, you know, you wouldn’t be able to get your usual hookups this summer

HOLLANDER: and you’ve talked about how much it sucks to go months every year never getting laid

HOLLANDER: that’s probably a big part of why you keep having consistency issues, don’t you think?

HUNTER: wow

HOLLANDER: c’mon that can’t be news to you

HOLLANDER: I’m just saying, you’ve done so much for me

HOLLANDER: this could be a way I give back

HUNTER: yeah, I’m not quite desperate or washed up enough to go for a pity fuck

HUNTER: but thanks for the thought ig

HOLLANDER: ⁉️

HOLLANDER: how the hell did you get pity fuck from anything I just said

HUNTER: uhhhh let me see, a guy who’s never been interested in me suddenly offering to provide a quick fuck because he feels bad I’m suffering from blue balls? Gee I wonder!

HOLLANDER: NEVER BEEN INTERESTED?!!?

HOLLANDER: hold on a minute

Sun, June 2 at 11:02 PM EST

HUNTER: look, it’s fine, I’m sorry

HOLLANDER: shut up

HOLLANDER: I had to scroll back through three years of texts

HOLLANDER: okay. So on February 23rd, 2011, you wrote:
“you jerked off to my poster when you were a teenager”
“you called me Mr. Hunter and blushed every time I looked at you”
“I might have overheard you and Roz talking about me that night.”
“Once you’ve been named MLH’s hottest player of the year five times in a row, you will also get used to dealing with people who had crushes on you as a teenager.”
Me: “I looked up to you a lot growing up” — You: “poster was near the bed, then?”

HOLLANDER: and you somehow got out of all that that I DON’T have a crush on you?!

HUNTER: okay, okay

HUNTER: but like, that was a celebrity crush. I assumed that once you got to know me you got over it

HOLLANDER: I didn’t get over it

HOLLANDER: you’re kind, and smart, and fucking hot, and really fucking good at hockey

HOLLANDER: when you smashed me into the boards during game 6 I got hard

HOLLANDER: I jerked off about it in the showers after

HUNTER: oh 😳

HOLLANDER: look if you aren’t attracted to me you can just say so

HUNTER: jesus fucking christ

HUNTER: of course you’re fucking gorgeous

HOLLANDER: Okay so…?

HUNTER: but what about Roz?

HOLLANDER: Roz wants to fuck me

HOLLANDER: and I want him to

HOLLANDER: But I’m still nervous that I’ll do something stupid and he’ll laugh at me

HOLLANDER: I feel safe with you

HOLLANDER: I’m not saying I feel threatened by him or anything. It’s just that I know you better. I know that you’ll take care of me

HUNTER: oh

HUNTER: 🥹

HUNTER: okay then

HOLLANDER: Okay?

HUNTER: okay. at the awards this year?

HUNTER: I can get a hotel room away from where the rest of the guys stay

HUNTER: no one else is coming from the admirals this year. Benny got a nod for the Vezina again but his wife has a work thing so he asked me to accept it if he wins. So no one will wonder where I am.

HOLLANDER: Yeah. 😊 That works great

HOLLANDER: I already talked my parents into staying home

HOLLANDER: since I didn’t get anything this year

HOLLANDER: I was thinking about skipping it actually but the League wants me to present so they can rub it my face that Roz took the scoring race this year 🙄

HOLLANDER: they never miss a chance to cash in on the rivalry narrative, you know?

HOLLANDER: anyway my mom set up a couple sponsorship meetings while I’m there so I’m coming in late Friday night and staying till Tuesday

HUNTER: perfect. We can make a whole weekend out of it

HUNTER: assuming you’d like me to take my time with you 😉

HOLLANDER: 🥵 yes please

HUNTER: will you have anyone with you at the airport?

HOLLANDER: no

HOLLANDER: no one else from the Metros is up for anything so I’m coming alone, too

HUNTER: good. forward me your flight info, then, I’ll pick you up

HOLLANDER: okay. You don’t think that might be risky?

HUNTER: No. We’re friends. We get drinks after every game with our whole teams, everyone knows I took you under my wing. No one’s gonna think twice about it.

HOLLANDER: right. Okay, yeah.

HUNTER: see you in a couple weeks, kid

Wed, Jun 19 at 9:03 PM EST

HUNTER: looking forward to this weekend? 😉

HOLLANDER: yes

HOLLANDER: I am

HUNTER: good. I am too

HUNTER: I thought maybe we should talk about boundaries and expectations?

HUNTER: we can do it in person too, if you’d prefer, I just thought maybe it’d be easier to talk some things out by text, you know?

HOLLANDER: what kinds of things?

HUNTER: like what dynamic you’re looking for. Hard nos, any positions you definitely want to try or definitely don’t…?

HOLLANDER: I don’t really know.

HUNTER: okay let’s start small

HUNTER: seemed like when we were talking before you were thinking that I was going to fuck you?

HOLLANDER: oh. yes.

HUNTER: would you also want to fuck me? I’m into that too, if you want to try it out. Or not. Fine either way

HOLLANDER: I don’t think so. Maybe?

HUNTER: that’s fine. You don’t have to know everything right now.

HUNTER: hand stuff? Mouth stuff?

HOLLANDER: yes.

HOLLANDER: I like using my mouth

HUNTER: I’ll look forward to seeing that, then

HUNTER: I know you said you were nervous about Rozanov laughing at you

HUNTER: but you’ve also said you get turned on by him being an asshole

HUNTER: and you know, we usually make fun of each other some, in a friendly way

HUNTER: so I just wanted to check in on what your comfort level is there. I can cool it totally, just focus on treating you nicely, the way you deserve. Or keep things normal but light, mild chirps, stay away from anything that might be sensitive?

HOLLANDER: yeah, I think just not about the sex itself? Like I’m probably gonna be nervous and awkward about it and if you could be cool about that it’d be great

HUNTER: of course

HOLLANDER: but I don’t mind if you chirp me about other stuff.

HOLLANDER: it’d seem weird if you didn’t TBH.

HUNTER: cool. 😎

HUNTER: and like. We kinda have a certain vibe going, but I wasn’t sure if you wanted to lean into it or not. Like how you call me dad sometimes, and I call you kid…? Some people really get into that in a sexual way.

HUNTER: Like you could call me Daddy, or Sir, or Captain. I could call you baby, sweetheart, good boy. Or bad boy 😏

HUNTER: Would you be into that? Me taking care of you?

HUNTER: Or would you want to keep that just as a chirping thing and not for sex?

HOLLANDER: …

HUNTER: take some to think that over if you need to

HOLLANDER: no, it’s fine

HOLLANDER: Um, yes to the vibe, but I think maybe not daddy?

HOLLANDER: I don’t know. I need to think about that.

HOLLANDER: but captain and sir, yeah, definitely, that would be really hot.

HOLLANDER: And any of the ones you said would be good for you to call me 😳🥵

HUNTER: okay, sweetheart 💗

HOLLANDER: fuck

HUNTER: are you hard right now?

HOLLANDER: yes

HUNTER: I don’t want you to touch yourself until I pick you up on Friday

HOLLANDER: …

HUNTER: okay? You gonna be good for me, baby?

HOLLANDER: fuck. yes.

HOLLANDER: yes, sir.

HUNTER: good. I’ll see you soon. 😘

Wed, Feb 16 at 3:22 PM EST

HUNTER: Hey Roz, this is Scott Hunter

HUNTER: i got your number from Denis Marleau - my 3LW?

HUNTER: I guess his cousin Cliff is your d-man?

ROZANOV: hunter

HUNTER: I probably don’t want to know

HUNTER: but what the fuck is that supposed to mean

ROZANOV: what do you mean?

ROZANOV: was very impressive

ROZANOV: thought I should clap

HUNTER: 😒

HUNTER: What was impressive, that I tracked down your number?

ROZANOV: no, no

ROZANOV: Impressive that you know how to use cell phone

ROZANOV: I have heard is very difficult to learn for man your age

HUNTER: 🙄

HUNTER: why did I even ask?

ROZANOV: and yes I know Marley’s little cousin

ROZANOV: who is also hockey player in nearby city

ROZANOV: you have had too many concussions, perhaps?

ROZANOV: do not know your own teammates family?

ROZANOV: so sad

HUNTER: fuck off Rozanov

HUNTER: we just called denny up from the minors like two months ago

HUNTER: he has like twenty cousins and half a dozen of them are hockey players

HUNTER: like most canadians

ROZANOV: I am so disappointed Hunter

ROZANOV: will have to tell Hollander his hero is bigot

ROZANOV: spreading very hurtful stereotypes about Canadians

HUNTER: 🙄

HUNTER: you’re one to talk about stereotypes

HUNTER: who even taught you that word?

HUNTER: ANYWAY

HUNTER: I wanted to reach out and apologize

HUNTER: I realized that I only gave Hollander my number after the all star game

HUNTER: I didn’t mean to leave you out

HUNTER: I just kinda forgot

ROZANOV: yes I understand

ROZANOV: like I said

ROZANOV: too many concussions

ROZANOV: maybe you should retire before it get worse

HUNTER: jesus Rozanov give it a break

HUNTER: we’re not on the ice

HUNTER: It’s not like I actually FORGOT

HUNTER: I was distracted

HUNTER: I wanted to make sure Hollander was okay

HUNTER: it seemed like he was having a pretty rough time

ROZANOV: Hollander panics easily

ROZANOV: I do not

HUNTER: 🙄

HUNTER: okay

ROZANOV: something to keep in mind if you ever think of telling anyone

HUNTER: what the fuck?

HUNTER: are you actually trying to threaten me right now?

HUNTER: of course I’m not going to tell anyone

HUNTER: I would never do that

HUNTER: that’s why I told you two about me

HUNTER: so you’d know I have the same secret

ROZANOV: you are white. american. cannot have many good years of hockey left

ROZANOV: so secret is not so serious for you

ROZANOV: maybe you forget, say something to family and friends

ROZANOV: want to make sure you know this would be bad idea

HUNTER: you know what, you fucking brat. I WAS going to offer to help you out if you ever needed anything. like I did for Hollander

HUNTER: but instead? lose my number. I’ve already deleted yours

ROZANOV: good

ROZANOV: I do not need help from ancient dinosaur

ROZANOV: neither does Hollander

HUNTER: 🖕

ROZANOV: 🖕

Sun, Jun 26 at 9:22 PM EST

ROZANOV: what have you been doing with Hollander?

HUNTER: who is this?

ROZANOV: you know who the fuck I am, Hunter

HUNTER: mmmm, sorry. not ringing a bell

ROZANOV: you are being very boring

HUNTER: guess you should go harass somebody more interesting, then

ROZANOV: ugh fine

ROZANOV: maybe this remind you

HUNTER: wow. you actually keep gifs of your own soundbites around to send people?

ROZANOV: no

ROZANOV: there is new thing

ROZANOV: maybe dinosaur like you have not heard of it

HUNTER: oh for fuck’s sake

ROZANOV: is called Google

HUNTER: you’re such a fucking asshole

ROZANOV: you see, fans record presser

ROZANOV: put on internet

ROZANOV: I search. find. send to you. easy

HUNTER: very cute

ROZANOV: oh! I understand why this confuses you

ROZANOV: you see, fans are people who like you as player

ROZANOV: wear your jersey, take many pictures, talk about you on internet

ROZANOV: you probably do not have any yet

ROZANOV: but if you play very good maybe you will get someday!

HUNTER: look Rozanov you messaged me

HUNTER: if it was just to take the piss then I’m blocking this number

ROZANOV: do not block me

ROZANOV: I have question

ROZANOV: …

HUNTER: well?

ROZANOV: take the piss

ROZANOV: What does this mean?

HUNTER: well you see, there’s this thing called google

ROZANOV: 🖕

HUNTER: right

HUNTER: blocking you

ROZANOV: no wait!

HUNTER: last fucking chance, Rozanov

ROZANOV: at awards last night

ROZANOV: Hollander was fun

ROZANOV: taking shots, playing pranks

ROZANOV: I never see him have fun like this before

HUNTER: still not hearing a question

ROZANOV: how do you make him do this?

HUNTER: I don’t know, I was friendly, I guess? it was a big night for him, winning rookie of the year and all

ROZANOV: you think winning trophy makes Hollander

ROZANOV: Canadian golden boy Hollander

ROZANOV: sneak under table and rub butter on sidney crosby’s shoes?

HUNTER: 🤣

HUNTER: god that was great

HUNTER: haven’t seen sid the kid get got that good in years

HUNTER: and sort of? I mean, yeah, I dared him to do that

HUNTER: we had a bet going on whether he’d win the Calder or not

HUNTER: loser had to do an embarrassing stunt

ROZANOV: he bet he would NOT win?

HUNTER: yep. Go figure. He thought you had a chance

ROZANOV: interesting

ROZANOV: bet on hockey is good idea

ROZANOV: thank you

HUNTER: you’re welcome I guess?

Friday, June 21: Green Valley Ranch Casino Resort Spa

Scott wasn’t sure how he did it, but he managed to stay professional long enough to check into their hotel. He even made polite conversation with the bellboy who insisted on helping them carry their bags up to the two-bedroom luxury jacuzzi suite that Scott had splurged for.

Or at least, Scott hoped to god that he hadn’t come across as an utterly horned-out lunatic just seconds away from ravishing the kid next to him.

Even if that was exactly what he was.

It was just that Hollzy kept shooting him these absolutely unfair glances, in the car and the lobby and the elevator: melting, wide-eyed looks, half the time with his bottom lip caught between his teeth, until Scott thought he was actually about to lose it. He stuffed a tip in the bellboy’s eager hands—whatever bills had been at the top of his wallet, and he didn’t give even the smallest of fucks if it had been a couple of hundreds—closed the door in the man’s shocked face, and then pivoted to slam Shane up against the wall in the same motion. Hollzy just let himself be moved, offering no resistance and practically melting as their bodies came flush together. Scott felt a truly unhinged wave of fuck-drunk lust and power-hungry delight run through him at the way his protégé had gone as pliable as putty in his arms.

“Fuck, baby, you’re driving me crazy,” Scott breathed, burying his face in the crook of Shane’s neck as he pushed that ridiculous suit jacket off. He bit down gently just above the starched collar, savoring the shiver that shook the kid’s suddenly fragile-seeming frame, Shane somehow making himself appear dainty and small, despite his nearly six-foot, muscular body. Scott was shaking now, himself, with need and with lust. He sucked urgently at the soft skin of Shane’s throat as he started unbuttoning the kid’s shirt, enjoying the contrast of the blood-rich, salt-sweet taste with the smell of Shane’s light cologne: citrus and sandalwood and something almost floral underneath. Maybe that last was just Shane.

Scott wasn’t sure if he’d ever been so turned on in his life. And then Hollzy let out a quiet little throaty sound of contentment—his hand to god, Scott would have been willing to swear that the kid had actually purred—and Scott got, impossibly, even harder. Swearing again under his breath, he finally stopped vampirizing Shane’s throat, and—after admiring the red bloom he’d already left there—started working his way further up Shane’s neck, nibbling at the hinge of his jaw before finally bringing their mouths together.

Fuck. Scott had always liked kissing—unlike some guys he’d fucked, who seemed to think of it as a childish and eminently skippable prelude to the main event. But it had never been like this, an intense, cathartic burst of emotion and sensation. Hollzy was eager as hell, his lips and tongue moving frantically to Scott’s direction; his hands had quickly worked Scott’s T-shirt off and were now caressing worshipfully across his abs and pecs. The feel of the kid’s hands across his bare chest reminded Scott that he’d been distracted from his goal of getting Shane naked as quickly as possible. All he was doing now with his own hands was holding Shane’s shoulders against the wall, which was an entirely unnecessary exercise, when every line and curve of Shane’s body said that he would happily stay exactly Scott put him. Scott let his hands wander down, instead, dreamily undoing those ridiculously tight tailored pants and then getting his palms under the black boxer-briefs that lay beneath them—Calvin Klein, of course—and around the utter glory that was Shane Hollander’s ass.

As he kneaded at it, relishing the firm, bouncy mounds of flesh filling and overflowing his hands, Shane groaned into his mouth and then wrenched his lips away, pressing his forehead to Scott’s now-bare shoulder and wrapping his arms around Scott’s waist, clutching at him tightly.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Scott asked, pulling one hand out of Shane’s pants and using it to pet the back of his head, instead. Shane’s hair was slippery-soft, sliding silkily through his fingers. “You need to slow down?”

“Yeah, just—just a little,” Shane panted. “I’m good, it’s all really good, I just need… Just give me a second. Holy fuck.”

Scott hummed, feeling a little smug—justifiably so, he thought—at the breathless, desperate note in Shane’s voice.

“You having a good time, then, baby?” he murmured, pressing a light kiss into Shane’s temple.

“So good—god, you’re so fucking hot,” Shane said, with a strangled laugh. “Holy fuck, I almost just came in my fucking pants.”

“Fuck,” Scott swore, his mind slightly blown at the revelation that Shane had been that close to coming just from a kiss and an ass-grope. Scott hadn’t had that much of a hair trigger since—

—well. Since he’d been twenty-two, perhaps.

“Jesus Christ, I’m going to hell,” he muttered to himself.

“What?” Shane asked, pulling his head back from Scott’s grip.

“Nothing. Not a damn thing. Do you wanna maybe take your pants off, then, baby, or did you need a break for another reason?”

“No I… I mean, I will, but first… Can I… I wanna…”

Scott had no idea what any of that was supposed to mean, but— “You can have anything you want, sweetheart,” he promised, meaning every fucking word.

Although he hadn’t been expecting Shane to drop down to his knees as smoothly as if he was made of rubber.

“Holy motherfucking hell,” Scott wheezed, as the kid practically ripped his fly open and swallowed up his dick the second it sprang free. He looked down to find Shane’s eyes rolling back under half-closed lids, and it was the bliss on his face, as much as the tight, hot wetness around his dick, that made Scott’s own eyes slam down and his hips thrust forward involuntarily. “Shit, I’m sorry!”

Shane was shaking his head almost before he’d finished coughing. “‘S’okay,” he said, slurring his words as if he was drunk. “It was hot. Let me try again?”

“Jesus, you’re gonna kill me. Yeah, baby boy, of course you can try again. Just go a little slower this time, okay? Take it easy—on me,” he added, as Shane glared up at him at the mere suggestion of showing down.

Scott braced his hands against the wall over the kid’s head as Shane turned his scowl into a wicked smirk and then bent back down toward Scott’s dick—definitely not going any slower. He could only hope that having his hands against the wall would help keep him from trying to choke the poor kid again. It wasn’t as if Scott shouldn’t be able to handle this—he’d gotten plenty of blowjobs, from guys who were definitely more experienced. It was just that, somehow, the sight of Shane on his knees—gagging on Scott’s dick, shirt unbuttoned to his sternum, pants gaping wide and barely hanging on around that glorious ass—was driving him absolutely insane…

He groaned again as Shane raised a hand to grope at his pecs, as if he just couldn’t stand not touching Scott everywhere he could. He ran his other hand up the outside of Scott’s leg until he got a good grip on Scott’s denim-covered ass and yanked it closer.

“Fucking hell, Rook.” He clenched one of his hands into a fist and banged it against the wall. “Jesus Christ, you’re good at that.”

Shane looked impossibly pleased at the praise as he drew back. “Tell me if you’re close to coming, okay? I still want you to fuck me tonight.”

Given that the next thing the kid did was tongue at the underside of Scott’s dick, mouthing along his frenulum, Scott almost let that remark pass unchallenged. But even as he swore and pressed his forehead against the cool wall next to his hand, it felt like the back of his brain had suddenly blown a whistle, throwing the replay of Shane’s words across the back of Scott’s eyelids.

“Hold on,” he panted. He lowered his hands from the wall and cupped them around Shane’s damp chin, tugging gently. “Hold on, baby, come back up here. Just for a second.”

The whine that Shane let out as Scott dragged him bodily off of his dick was going to resurface in Scott’s dreams until the end of time.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, you’re doing so well, being so good for me, I just wanna ask you something,” Scott reassured him.

Shane grumbled in complaint, but he eventually let Scott pull him up and back into his arms. Scott already missed the feel of his hair from before, and let himself slump forward, pinning Shane between his body and the wall and resting his face on the top of Shane’s head, nuzzling into those soft strands. “How many times can you come in one night, do you think?”

Shane didn’t say anything, and eventually, Scott straightened up and cupped his hand under the kid’s chin again, forcing him to look up. “Cat got your tongue, baby?”

“Shut up,” Shane said, blushing furiously. “I, uh. I guess I don’t know? I’ve never really… I usually just jerk off or have sex, and then, once I come, I just, I don’t know, stop? I mean, I’ve jerked off a few times in one day before, but always, in, um. Different sessions? Is that weird?”

“Of course it’s not weird!” Scott rubbed his thumb along Shane’s jaw, enjoying the feel of stubble against his callused skin. Fuck, but his mind felt like it was running on a different level, cataloging every shiver and jerk, every tiny whimper and bitten-off gasp. It was like he was on the ice, actually, reading an opponent during a faceoff—but he’d never felt that extra gear kick in during sex before. “No, that makes sense. Not a lot of time for extended jerking off time in our line of work. And you haven’t been taking summer sexcations, unlike me.”

“Yeah.” Seemingly relieved of his momentary anxiety, Shane leaned into Scott’s hand, practically stroking his face against it, once again reminding Scott of a cat. Even more devastatingly, he didn’t even seem to realize he was doing it.

Scott couldn’t wait to see the look on his face when he felt the hot, electric pleasure-pain of overstimulation for, apparently, the first time in his life.

“Well, we’ve got all night,” he whispered now. “Nowhere to be tomorrow morning.” He tilted Shane’s head to the side and put his mouth on the hinge of his jaw again, mouthing wetly over the sharp bone.

“Fuck,” Shane said, and the whine in his tone made Scott hum happily as he kissed his way farther back, heading for Shane’s ear. “Please—”

“I can come at least twice,” Scott went on, then sucked Shane’s earlobe into his mouth for a second, biting down sharply where a piercing would be. That got him a helpless mew, and he grinned devilishly. “And the second one I can make last long enough to help you, ah, test your limits, hmm? Figure out just how many orgasms I can drag out of you. Would you be okay with me doing that? Seeing just how much you can take?”

Shane was nodding frantically, his eyes wet, and Scott worked his hand back inside Shane’s loose waistband and into his boxers, reaching for the front side this time. Shane arched like a bow, the back of his head slamming into the wall, as Scott got hold of his dick. It was already dripping wet and fever hot, and Shane was writhing in his grip now, his hands clutching helplessly at Scott’s shoulders. Scott gave it one good stroke, thumbing the kid’s leaking slit, then pulled his hand back out just long enough to taste the precum on his fingers and thumb, wrapping his lips around the salty skin and sucking hard, knowing how it would make his cheeks hollow obscenely.

“Holy shit,” Shane breathed, his eyes going wide and black.

“Fuck, you taste good, baby,” Scott whispered. “You always get this wet?”

Shane shook his head mutely as Scott pushed his pants and boxers down in one motion, letting them puddle around his designer loafers, then resumed unbuttoning his shirt, moving with deliberate, teasing slowness. Shane got impatient before he’d undone more than two buttons, letting go of Scott’s shoulders and yanking the shirt off over his head, along with his undershirt. Scott laughed and got his palm around the kid’s dick again, stroking with careful, slow deliberation, thoroughly enjoying the way it made Shane go up on his toes and whine, begging for more, even as he wrapped his arms back around Scott’s shoulders, holding on for dear life. Grinning, Scott ran his other hand around Shane’s backside, getting a good grip on that gorgeous ass again. As Shane moaned, he kneaded at it and then slipped a dry finger gently into Shane’s crease.

“Fuck—Sir, I can’t—oh my god,” Shane said, his voice high and needy and so fucking hot that it made Scott want to eat him.

“We’ve both been waiting for this for quite a while,” Scott said, speeding up just the tiniest bit. “Haven’t we, baby?”

“Oh my god, I’m going to come—Hunter, if you keep doing that I’m gonna—”

Scott stopped and lifted his right hand away from Shane’s dick, while keeping his left hand right where it was, with the middle finger still stroking lightly at Shane’s tightly furled asshole. Shane gasped needily, his hips bucking into empty air. Scott took his time lapping at his fingers, this time, making sure that his mouth wrapped around each one individually, leaving them dripping wet. Shane’s eyes were almost entirely glazed over, glistening-wet and pupils so wide the black drowned out the brown almost entirely; his cheeks were a dusky rose, making his freckles show up as a lighter pink against the blaze of color.

“So let’s take the edge off now, shall we?” Scott said, hearing his voice drop down into its lowest register. He was careful as he fisted his hand around the kid’s dick, making sure to give him a nice wet hole to fuck into, but keeping it too loose to do more than keep the edge going. “Come just as quick as you like, and then we can really take our time for the second one. That sound good to you, sweetheart? You ready to come for me?”

“Oh, fuck,” Shane said brokenly. He sagged against the wall as he worked his hips, thrusting up into Scott’s hand. “Yes. Oh, god. Sir. Captain. Please.”

Fri, Jan 27 at 5:42 PM EST

ROZANOV: am watching you, Hunter

HUNTER: what the actual fuck?

HUNTER: I think that might be the creepiest text I've ever gotten

HUNTER: why the hell are you even fucking texting me during an event we’re both physically at, Rozanov?

HUNTER: you could just walk over here.

HUNTER: is this about Hollander again?

HUNTER: wait. where the hell even ARE you?!?!

Friday, June 21: Green Valley Ranch Casino Resort Spa

Shane’s orgasm was just as captivatingly pretty as everything else about him. He came with his eyelids tightly screwed together, tears beading in his eyelashes; wet, bitten-red lips letting out moans interspersed with barely audible obscenities in two languages; fingers biting into Scott’s shoulders as his knees gave out from under him, his weight hanging desperately off his arms; and finally, his dick jerking urgently in Scott’s grip, spurting come onto Scott’s hand and Shane’s own stomach, painting the small curve of his belly.

Scott stroked him through it, milking every possible drop, until Shane was whimpering and flinching away from his touch. Shane’s legs buckled altogether as Scott finally pulled his hand away; Scott caught him as he fell, Shane’s grip on his shoulders making it easy to heft him up in a bridal carry.

Scott cursed every one of his thirty-odd years and all of the exhausting, strength-leaching games he’d played in his most recent season and fruitless playoffs as he carried Shane across the large entry hall toward one of the bedrooms. Shane might be good at making himself appear adorably young and helpless, but that sure as hell didn’t make him actually small—or light.

Thankfully, the lingering muscle mass Scott had retained proved to be just enough, allowing his arms to keep from giving out until after he’d tossed Shane onto the king-sized mattress and toppled down on top of him. Shane’s legs parted, seemingly by instinct, as Scott fell between them; his hands snaked up around Scott’s shoulders even as his powerful thighs clenched around Scott’s waist, pulling him closer. Scott hummed with pleasure and let himself burrow into Shane’s welcoming body, then brought his lips back to Shane’s neck, sucking another mark into existence. Shane made a little breathless whine of complaint as Scott ground his still-unsatisfied erection against Shane’s wet, softening dick, but his legs just opened wider, and when Scott tried to draw back, Shane’s ankles locked around the small of his back, trapping him exactly where he wanted to be.

“Christ, sweetheart, that was so fucking gorgeous,” Scott said. “So damn hot. Driving me fucking crazy—” He kept trying to stop himself from just grinding down into Shane’s receptive body until he came—trying to drag it out—but his orgasm felt like an inevitability.

Until Shane’s ridiculously sexy, pleased-pained whimpers turned into an actual protesting squawk, and his hands changed from clutching Scott tighter to pushing him away. Scott withdrew quickly, bracing himself a half-foot above Shane with one hand and one knee on the mattress.

“Did I hurt—” he started to ask, only to have his concerns disappear as Shane grinned wickedly up at him.

“Nothing hurts,” Shane purred. He increased the force of his hands against Scott’s shoulders until Scott took the hint and let himself be pushed onto his back. Shane followed him over, throwing a leg over Scott’s prone body and using the leverage to rise up above Scott like a young god, straddling his lap and rocking his ass against Scott’s dick. “Nothing except that you haven’t let me make you come yet.”

Scott groaned and rolled his hips, enjoying both the friction of his dick rubbing against Shane’s ass, and the flexion of the kid’s stomach and chest as he rode out the movement. “I was almost there, kid!”

“But I want you to come in my mouth.” Shane pouted masterfully at him even as he abandoned the cowgirl pose and slithered down Scott’s body, until he was braced up on his forearms with his face hovering just over Scott’s dick.

Scott groaned. The rest of Shane’s clothes had disappeared somewhere on the journey into the bedroom, and the impact of him delivering that line while poised, butt-naked, right over Scott’s dick was nothing short of devastating. Worse, Scott was still wearing his shoes, and his jeans, unbuckled but loose around his upper thighs. Given the way that Shane was looking down at his dick like it was a fucking popsicle, Scott was pretty tempted to just let him go to town, regardless, but the thought of getting denim wrinkles ground into his ass convinced him otherwise.

“Hold on, kid, just a second, let me—” He bucked his hips up, intending to start working his jeans down, and accidentally booped Shane in the nose with the knob of his dick in the process.

Shane was now too busy cackling with laughter to help, sprawled out on the mattress next to Scott and clutching at his stomach, but Scott made quick work of the unwanted clothing, balling up his jeans and throwing them, with his shoes, haphazardly toward the wall. Then he pounced on the chortling brat, wrestling with him until he got him sandwiched between Scott’s own fevered body and the crisp white sheets, with his hands pinned above his head. Shane tugged once against his grip—clearly testing it rather than actually trying to get free—and then subsided, a wide grin brightening his face so much Scott felt like he should be wearing sunglasses.

“Well, you were no help with that at all, were you, baby?” Scott whispered, his attention far more focused on tracing the freckles that spread across Shane’s cheeks and—fainter but still perceptible—down his shoulders and chest.

“Nope,” Shane said unrepentantly. “What are you going to do, spank me?”

Scott felt his dick twitch against Shane’s thigh. From the way his eyes lit up even more, the kid felt it, too.

“Oh don’t even tempt me, brat,” Scott said, fighting back laughter of his own by this point. “You haven’t even managed to give me an adequate blowjob, yet.”

“Because you keep pulling me off!” SHane yelped, looking so genuinely offended by the facetious complaint that Scott couldn’t help himself from cracking up. His laughter apparently infuriated Shane even more, because he started genuinely struggling against the tight grip Scott had on his wrists. “Let me go! I’m gonna suck your dick so good that you’ll be too crosseyed to shoot a puck straight afterward!”

Scott was cackling far too hard at that point to keep the kid from breaking free, and Shane performed some kind of jiujitsu move—or maybe it was just a variation on a hip-check—to flip the both of them over again. With Scott on his back, Shane arrowed back in on his crotch, clearly intent on making good on his threat immediately. And yet, despite all that advance warning, Scott’s breath still whooshed out of his lungs as Shane swallowed around his dick as if he wanted to choke on it.

“Christ, baby,” Scott breathed. His hands were in Shane’s hair again—he didn’t even remember putting them there—and they shook as he petted him gently. “Just a little slower, sweetheart. It’s better if you work me up gradually, instead of all at once—”

He’d been worried about giving any criticism at all, given Shane’s exhibited insecurities about sex. But he should have known better—Shane couldn’t have gotten to MLH level without being able to take coaching well. He pulled off with an obscene squelch, said “oh, that makes sense,” and then swirled his tongue around the head of Scott’s dick before going back down more slowly and gently, his eyes craning upward to keep sight of Scott’s face.

“Fuck! So good for me, baby,” Scott whispered encouragingly, manfully restraining himself from bucking up into that welcoming mouth. “That’s it, and you can play with my balls a bit with your hands—”

He cursed softly as Shane immediately put the advice into action, rolling Scott’s balls experimentally in his right hand as he reached upward with his other hand, kneading at Scott’s pecs again.

“Good, so good,” Scott grated out. “Now you can go a little deeper—swallow around me, if you can—fuck!”

Shane copied Scott’s earlier move, slipping his index finger into Scott’s crease as he swallowed around him, and the surprise combined with the stimulation was enough to send Scott over, emptying himself entirely into Shane’s mouth. The kid coughed a little, but didn’t pull away, wrapping those eager lips around Scott’s tip again and milking him through the aftershocks, his hands petting at him soothingly.

“Jesus Christ,” Scott said weakly, when he could speak again. “Get up here, baby.”

With Scott feebly encouraging him with grabby hands, Shane crawled up Scott’s body, until he could lay his head down on Scott’s chest. Scott petted his hair, noting the warmth swelling in his heart with a sinking sensation in his gut. He sternly reminded himself that he was doing this as a favor to the kid: this was all so that Hollzy wouldn’t be nervous about fucking Rozanov, the guy he was actually hung up over. The guy who was actively gaga over him. Scott would only be cruising for a bruising if he got emotionally involved here. They were friends. Just good friends.

“Fucking hell,” Shane said, his voice giddy and breathless, the joy in his voice making that stubborn warmth in Scott’s heart grow even bigger. “That was so fucking hot.”

Sat, Oct 8 at 3:28 PM EST

ROZANOV: nice pirouette you did there

ROZANOV: like very pretty dancing boy

ROZANOV: sports shows will love this

ROZANOV: too bad was too little too late to save your team. maybe next time you remember how to play in time to win them game, yes?

Sat, Oct 8, 2012 at 4:24 PM EST

HUNTER: 🖕

HUNTER: fuck off Rozanov

Friday, June 21: Green Valley Ranch Casino Resort Spa

“You doing… okay, baby?” Scott panted.

“Yes, for crissake, I’m ready, I’m ready, please just fuck me already—”

“Then will you stop fucking moving and let me take my time with you?” Scott hissed, another thread snapping off of his already-frayed patience.

He’d already made Shane come for a second time, with Scott’s mouth on his dick and two of Scott’s fingers massaging relentlessly at his prostate, and Scott had been determined to get a third as he prepped him further, to make sure he was wide open and dripping before he started fucking him in earnest—but that had been before Shane had started fucking begging for it. Now, with Shane’s wet hole spread wide around just the tip of Scott’s dick and the kid fucking squirming on it, pushing back relentlessly against Scott’s firm grip on his hips, it was taking everything Scott had not to just take him. In his mind’s eye, he could already see his dick sinking balls-deep into Shane’s gorgeous ass in one fucking stroke—

But Scott had promised himself that he was going to make this good. No, not just good—so great that when Shane finally fucked Rozanov, it wouldn’t even compare—

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Scott swore: half at his own self-defeating bullshit, and half at the way Shane hadn’t stopped moving even for a second, putting his entire body into trying to get Scott’s dick in him immediately. If Scott hadn’t had the kid on his back and underneath him, with little leverage to push back against the soft mattress, he’d have already overcome Scott’s weakening grip and impaled himself, despite how punishingly tight his hole still was.

“Now, please,” Shane begged again, even as Scott bit his tongue and closed his eyes for a moment, striving for willpower.

Shane’s heels drummed down needily against Scott’s back, and Scott finally lost his patience entirely. Letting go of Shane’s left hip, he pulled his right hand back and then let it come down, delivering a light smack squarely against the lower curve of Shane’s ass.

And of-fucking-course, that was what it took to make Shane go entirely still, staring up at Scott with wide, wet, lust-black eyes.

“Yeah?” Scott challenged. “You like that, sweetheart?”

“Yes, fuck, yes,” Shane panted. “Please, more—”

Scott grinned. Letting go of Shane’s hips entirely, he braced his left hand against the mattress and gave him another one, a real spank this time, moaning as the impact made Shane’s powerful muscles clench up around the tip of Scott’s dick.

“Fuck!” Shane shouted. His own dick twitched visibly, leaking more precum against his belly.

“Fuck,” Scott agreed. “Turn over, baby, get on all fours. Yeah, just like that—”

He’d planned to see Shane’s face as he fucked him, desperately wanted to watch as he took Scott’s dick—anyone’s dick—for the first time, but this distraction was far too good to pass up, and as Shane scrambled around to get on his hands and knees, Scott’s dick falling away from his hole in the process, Scott didn’t even regret the loss of that tight ass clenching around him.

He replaced his dick with two fingers, instead, hooking them into Shane’s hole and rubbing his thumb against Shane’s perineum to feel how he responded as Scott slapped his ass repeatedly, first on one side and then the other, hard enough to leave white marks in the shape of his hand on Shane’s glorious, tiger-striped curves, rough enough to make his cheeks ripple and bounce against each other. Shane yelped and moaned uninhibitedly, pushing back enthusiastically into the blows.

“God, you’re such a perfect fucking slut, aren’t you, baby?” Scott breathed, awed. “Fucking gorgeous.”

Removing his fingers, he pulled Shane’s cheeks apart, massaging at the red, fevered flesh, and then spanked him right on his hole, once, twice, three times, his own dick twitching at every obscene squelch of lube.

“Oh my fucking god,” Shane wept quietly, rocking back against the blows. “So fucking good, Captain, please hit me again—”

“Hmm, I could, couldn’t I…” Scott said, grinning. Instead, he poured another measure of lube over his dick, flipped Shane over again, took hold of his hips, and pulled him back onto his newly drenched dick. The playful spanking had loosened him up, and Scott was able to get his knob easily past the tight rim, sinking in a couple of inches before he met significant resistance again.

“Oh, fuck,” Shane whispered, going entirely still and pliant again.

“You’re doing so great,” Scott praised through gritted teeth. He released Shane’s hips entirely in favor of bracing both hands against the mattress, arms shaking as he fought to keep his advance slow and measured, sinking in centimeter by centimeter as Shane’s ass slowly opened for him.

“Oh god,” Shane whispered, looking up at Scott with an awed expression as his hips spread even wider, going utterly slack. “You’re so big—”

Scott just barely kept himself from thrusting forward hard at that. “Yeah? Does it feel good, baby?” he asked, barely conscious of the words spilling out of his mouth, almost all of his brain taken up by the feel of Shane’s hole around him, every minute flex of his penetrated flesh immediately tangible, even the pulse of his heartbeat seemingly perceptible against Scott’s most sensitive skin. “Is my dick big enough to satisfy you, sweetheart?”

“Yesssss,” Shane hissed, his own voice slurring with pleasure, his eyes falling halfway closed in bliss, “‘m so full, ‘s so good—”

Scott gave silent thanks for the clean tests both of them had sent to each other the week before, the lack of partners in the last few months that allowed them to do this without the slightest barrier between them—

“Fucking hell, baby, you feel fucking amazing.” His balls settled snugly against Shane’s ass as Scott sunk in the hilt, his entire dick enveloped in wet, hot, pulsating tightness.

Scott could barely keep his own eyes open—his entire body felt like it was a live wire, every particle of sanity he had narrowed down to the white-hot pleasure squeezing around his dick—but he wasn’t going to give up a moment of Shane feeling a man inside him for the first time. He watched, intent, as the crease in the middle of Shane’s forehead slowly relaxed away; he kept utterly still, except for his thumbs rubbing gently along Shane’s flanks, as Shane accustomed himself to the feeling of being filled.

“Yeah?” Shane asked, his eyes fluttering open again, his voice almost childlike, “‘m bein’ good for you?”

Scott wheezed out a snort of almost hysterical laughter at the understatement. “So fucking good, sweetheart,” he reassured the kid underneath him. Withdrawing just an inch or two, he then rocked gently forward, savoring every tiny microexpression that crossed Shane’s face.

“Good,” Shane said, a tiny amount of steel reentering his voice. “That’s good.” His eyes opened fully, meeting Scott’s directly for a short instant. “Then fuck me, already!”

Sat, Oct 27 at 10:56 PM EST

ROZANOV: so what, you and Hollander are boyfriends, now?

HUNTER: ???

ROZANOV: New York Daily News: Metros and Admirals Finding Common Ground

Link preview not working

HUNTER: what, you’re freaking out because we went out for a beer after a game? WITH both our teams? so around like 40 other guys? 🤣

HUNTER: careful roz

HUNTER: your obsession is showing

ROZANOV: fuck off

HUNTER: you messaged me, dick

ROZANOV: just wanted to make sure we weren’t butt brothers now

HUNTER: we weren’t WHAT

ROZANOV: if we both fuck Hollander

ROZANOV: dicks share same asshole

ROZANOV: then we are butt brothers

HUNTER: that may be the most disgusting thing I’ve ever heard

ROZANOV: 😏

ROZANOV: good

ROZANOV: you will think of this and never fuck Hollander

HUNTER: 🙄

Friday, June 21: Green Valley Ranch Casino Resort Spa

“I can’t, I can’t, oh my god, it’s too good. Please, I can’t,” Shane begged, his voice gone ragged at the edge of desire.

“You can, sweetheart,” Scott promised, only dimly aware of how deep his own voice had gone, the words slurred and addled by the lust filling his brain. “You’ve done so well for me, baby, such a good boy, best I’ve ever had, I know you can give me one more—”

Shane whimpered, but he didn’t use the safeword they’d established after the—third?—time he’d come; didn’t flinch away as Scott got his hand around his dick, laying half-soft, soaking wet and fever-hot between their bellies; and didn’t stop squirming around on Scott’s lap, working his way farther down onto Scott’s dick.

“God, you’re so fucking loose and wet for me, baby.” Scott stroked his other hand over the sweat-drenched curve of Shane’s hip, then got his fingers into Shane’s crease, tracing the rim of his muscle where it was stretched wide around his dick. “Bet I could fit my whole hand in there. Hmm? Would you like that, sweetheart? Taking my fist?”

He was exaggerating, of course, but not hugely. As he proved by slipping two of his fingers in next to his dick, stroking the slick-soft inner walls of Shane’s ass, finding his prostate and massaging at it just to feel him clench convulsively. Shane let out a strangled scream, his exhausted dick jerking in Scott’s hand and spurting out the saddest, tiniest little ooze of cum, adding to the mess that was already smeared across both of their bellies.

“Fuck,” Scott swore, burying his face in Shane’s neck. With a massive effort of will, he stopped moving, despite how much his own dick was crying out for release. He took a deep breath and straightened up, scanning Shane’s face. “Fuck, baby, that was a lot. Do you need me to stop?”

“N-No,” Shane stuttered, despite the tears that were visibly leaking out of his eyes, dripping down his sweat-strewn, red cheeks. “I want you to come in me, please, I wanna feel it—oh my god, it’s so much.”

“Yeah? Good much?”

“So good. Never… Never felt so good. So much. Please, Daddy, please fuck me—”

“Fuck,” Scott swore in return, feeling a soaring, giddy high at finally fucking the word out of the kid. He rolled his hips, enjoying the way it made Shane whimper helplessly. But after a few thrusts, he stopped again, getting his hands around Shane’s hips and lifting him up, out of his lap. Delightful though this position had been, it was going to take Scott way too long to come from it—he wanted to tease Shane a little more, not torture him. “Okay, baby, here we go—turn over; yeah, that’s perfect—”

He gripped the base of his own cock as Shane got onto his hands and knees, shooting Scott a hungry look over his shoulder.

“Fuck, you’re insatiable, baby,” Scott breathed, even as he folded himself over Shane’s sweat-slick back, slipping easily back inside his gaping hole. Shane cried out as Scott bottomed out in one hard thrust, gripping his hips tightly for leverage. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart? You gonna beg for my cock again? Even though you just came for—what was that, the fourth time?”

“F-fifth…? I think?”

Scott couldn’t help but laugh, because how even was this his reality? Over fifteen years since he’d figured out that he was gay, staring across the locker room at Jacob Hart—a decade and a half of hopeless, unrequited crushes and lonely, anonymous hookups, frequently with men who he didn’t even share a common language with—and now, somehow, this ridiculously hot twenty-two-year-old prodigy who could come five times in one night was the first man he’d ever fucked who knew his real name.

He started to fuck Shane in earnest, setting up a hard, fast rhythm, not holding anything back this time. Shane responded eagerly despite his evident exhaustion and overwhelm, bracing his hands against the mattress and pushing back into every thrust.

“That’s right, the fifth,” Scott agreed, speaking loudly to be heard over the desperate, unrestrained sounds spilling from Shane’s lips. “And two of those were untouched, weren’t they, sweetheart? You’re Daddy’s fucking wet dream, baby boy—still so fucking hungry for my dick, even after all you’ve already taken tonight.”

Shane groaned and leaned further down, bracing himself on his elbows and resting his forehead on his clasped hands. The change in position allowed Scott to slide even deeper, and a deep groan punched its way out of his lungs as he caught himself from falling forward, his fingers now digging into Shane’s hips deep enough to turn the skin around them white.

“Please fuck me harder,” Shane said suddenly, as if Scott’s question about whether he was going to beg for it had taken that long to filter through his lust-drunk brain. The words kept tumbling from his mouth, like a spigot had just been turned on. “Please, I need it, I want it, it feels so good, better than anything I’ve ever felt, please, Daddy—”

Fri, Nov 16 at 10:23 PM EST

ROZANOV: does he ever talk about me?

HUNTER: wow, you really are down bad, aren’t you?

ROZANOV: is hiss freckles

ROZANOV: they are so beautiful

ROZANOV: tiny pieces of sun caught in skin

HUNTER: 🤣

HUNTER: how much have you had to drink?

ROZANOV: my friend Svetlana goes to Russia for New years

ROZANOV: she brings me back very good vodka

ROZANOV: marley says we open for celebrate first dick trick tonight

HUNTER: yeah those were some nice goals, I caught the highlights

HUNTER: is Marley still there?

ROZANOV: why

ROZANOV: you want steal best friend like boyfriend

HUNTER: oh, you and Hollzy are boyfriends now?

HUNTER: that wasn’t the sense I got from him

ROZANOV: what

ROZANOV: what did he tell you

ROZANOV: Hntter

ROZANOV: HUNTER

ROZANOV: what did he fucking tell you!!!

HUNTER: relax

HUNTER: I teased him by calling you his boyfriend

HUNTER: he said you weren’t

ROZANOV: oh

ROZANOV: yes of course he says this

ROZANOV: is just because we are not exclisive

ROZANOV: excrusive?

ROZANOV: whatever fuck stupid english words

ROZANOV: we fuck other people

HUNTER: you certainly do

ROZANOV: what do you fucking mean by that?

HUNTER: you just get photographed with a lot of women for a guy who’s so eager to make sure Hollander isn’t fucking any other men

ROZANOV: he can fuck other men if he wants to

ROZANOV: we cannot be anything

ROZANOV: cannot tell him not to fuck

ROZANOV: just not you

ROZANOV: you are too old for him

ROZANOV: like cave man

HUNTER: 🙄

HUNTER: look, Roz, is Marley there?

HUNTER: or are you alone?

ROZANOV: oh god

ROZANOV: you are worried for me

ROZANOV: like bird with many tiny babies

ROZANOV: what is called? Red bird. Loud. tasty.

HUNTER: I don’t have any clue what you’re on about, Rozanov

ROZANOV: CHKICKEN@!

ROZANOV: chicken

ROZANOV: checkin?

ROZANOV: 🐔

ROZANOV: chicken

ROZANOV: English is stupid

ROZANOV: you are chicken mama

ROZANOV: so sweet getting worried about baby chicks

HUNTER: the phrase you’re looking for is mother hen

HUNTER: and I’m getting less worried by the second

ROZANOV: 😂

ROZANOV: is okay chicken mama

ROZANOV: marley and sveta are here

ROZANOV: they are making out on couch next to me

ROZANOV: maybe we all have sex later

ROZANOV: this is called threesome

ROZANOV: is thing that happens when you are young and hot

ROZANOV: you would not know this sorry

HUNTER: I’ve had more threesomes than you’ve had sex, brat

HUNTER: 🙄

Friday, June 21: Green Valley Ranch Casino Resort Spa

They both lay like the dead for several long minutes after Scott finally came, sprawled out flat under and over each other like cats. He burrowed his head into Shane’s well-cushioned chest, enjoying the rare opportunity to cuddle with someone who didn’t have a problem being crushed into the mattress by his bulk.

Eventually, however, the combined sensations of his dick slowly slipping out of Shane’s hole as it softened, Shane’s cum drying stickily between their bellies, and the cooling sweat crawling down his spine became too much for him. Scott pulled away, untangling his legs from Shane’s and pushing himself up to his hands and knees over the younger man.

Shane was fast asleep, passed out with his head half on and half off the pillow, and a dreamy smile on his face. Scott just watched him for a little while, lost in the sight of Shane’s face at rest, as he’d never seen it before: none of the intensity and focus that came with being one of the best players in the League, one of the most successful Asian-Canadian athletes of all time, a closeted gay man in a virulently homophobic sport.

He looked even younger, with that omnipresent stress removed. Vulnerable. Gorgeous.

Scott leaned down again and nuzzled at Shane’s temple, pressed a gentle kiss into the soft skin there. Shane didn’t stir. Which was definitely a good thing. Scott had already overshown his hand in about a dozen different ways.

Fuck, but he was in so much trouble.

He pushed himself up off the bed entirely and padded naked into the bathroom, turning on the water to fill the jacuzzi tub that he’d paid a considerable premium for.

Unfortunately, after several rounds of extremely energetic sex, he didn’t even have the strength to even consider carrying Shane again. This was particularly detrimental to his mental wellbeing, because it meant that he had to sit down on the mattress and stroke Shane’s silky hair, murmuring softly until the kid’s eyes fluttered open and he looked up at Scott with a breathtakingly soft, pleased smile.

Scott was in so much trouble.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said, his fingers still sweeping across Shane’s forehead. “I filled up a bath, you wanna come and let me clean you up?”

“Mm-kay,” Shane said, with a dopey smile that did not help the situation at all.

The tub was, in fact, big enough to fit both of them at once, although Scott had highly doubted that particular selling point. As he relaxed back against the wide rim of the tub, sprawling out on the carved sunken seat with Shane on his lap, he silently thanked his foresight in booking this particular suite.

Shane was utterly relaxed against him, his head resting limply against Scott’s chest and a slight smile still upturning his lips. Scott couldn’t help but feel a little smug when he compared this calm, happy Shane with the stone-faced Captain Hollander who’d glumly given him a manly, sportsmanlike hug during the handshake line at the end of their mutual playoff series a couple of weeks ago. He knew there were many pressures that he would never be able to lift from Shane’s shoulders; for that matter, even if Scott could make it happen, Shane wouldn’t want to be an ordinary person, or even a regular Major League Hockey player. But what respite and support Scott could provide, he wanted to. He remembered only too well how incredibly isolating it had been, being named as the Admirals’ captain as a young, hotshot forward: and he hadn’t had the additional stressor of being the sole hope of a failing franchise in the most hockey-mad town in the world; nor of being surrounded by some of worst assholes in the League with little no support from the coaching staff or management.

“God, you’re so sweet,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to Shane’s temple.

“I am not sweet,” Shane muttered grumpily.

He didn’t pull his head away from Scott’s hands or lips, however—just melted back against him even more—and Scott laughed.

“You are. Sweet as marmalade.”

“That doesn’t even make sense,” Shane said. “Marmalade is, like, the least sweet kind of jam. It’s tart.”

Scott tilted his head to the side. “It’s an actual different kind?” he hazarded. “I thought it was just a different word for jam.”

“No, pretty sure it’s a different kind. Or maybe just jam made with citrus? I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything other than lemon or orange marmalade.”

Scott started chuckling. Shane’s voice had gone slow and a little hazy around the edges, and his body entirely soft and pliable in Scott’s arms, and he was arguing with him about marmalade. Even during the very best of times on his European or South American summer getaways, when Scott had run into other gay vacationers who were able and willing to spend a few days together—a chance encounter in his early twenties, with a married pair of hot leather daddies from San Francisco who’d wanted a cub, came to mind—even then, he’d never experienced anything like the casual trust and intimacy Shane was giving him right now.

“Fuck, you’re dangerous, baby,” slipped from Scott’s lips, the words coming out throaty and a little wet.

“What? Why am I dangerous?” Shane asked a few seconds later, his voice a bit closer to his normal tone, although still drowsy and relaxed.

“Hmm? Oh,” Scott said, only then realizing that he’d said that aloud. “I just meant you’re a heartbreaker. I’m already trying not to think about ways to support myself in Montreal, if I gave up on hockey early,” he added, chuckling.

Shane stiffened, then pushed himself up, swiveling in Scott’s lap until they were face to face, the water sloshing noisily around them.

“I’m sorry, I was just joking—” Scott started.

“Would you want that?” Shane asked softly. Their eyes connected directly for just a second, with an electric shock that Scott felt down to his toes. “I know we can’t, obviously, but… If we could?”

Scott took a deep breath. Exhaled slowly, rationing his air, as he cupped Shane’s cheek, rubbing the slightly stubbled skin with his thumb.

Don’t get too intense, he reminded himself. You know how you get. Tone it down.

“I’d want to… explore it,” he admitted. “If you wanted to. If you—“

He paused with the words ‘—could convince me that you really want me, and not the hockey player you had a poster of on your wall,’ still stuck in his throat. He’d worried about that, when Shane had asked for this, along with his concerns about Rozanov’s possessiveness. In the end, Scott had convinced himself that it didn’t matter, even if it was true: because they were just doing a one-time thing, just scratching an itch, bros helping each other out.

But now, looking up at Shane’s hopeful, apprehensive face, Scott couldn’t bring himself to believe that this was just a teenage fantasy for him.

“—If you really wanted an old-timer like me,” he joked instead.

Shane scoffed. “You’re only old in hockey years.”

Hey!” Scott said, with some genuine offense. “You’re supposed to say I’m not old at all!”

“But Captain, I wouldn’t want to lie to you—” Shane taunted, grinning mischievously down at him.

Laughing, Scott flipped him over, sending water splashing over half the huge bathroom, getting him on his back and sprawled out against the porcelain rim, with Scott’s hands pinning his shoulders down.

“You little brat—” he play-snarled, getting the words out between cackles, and then Shane splashed water straight into his face, and that put an end to all conversation for a while.

Fri, Dec 21 at 1:03 AM EST

ROZANOV: Hey Hunter, guess what I learn

ROZANOV: HunterROZANOV: HunterROZANOV: Guess

ROZANOV: Hunter

HUNTER: Jesus Christ you’re like a dog with a bone

ROZANOV: this is good saying

ROZANOV: dog with a bone

ROZANOV: I like

ROZANOV: much better than most stupid english word things

HUNTER: phrases

HUNTER: idioms

ROZANOV: 🤣

ROZANOV: such a nerd

ROZANOV: Hollander is rubbing off on you

ROZANOV: but not actually rubbing off because you are much too old. too old of dog to learn new tricks. No new tricks for old dog Hunter.

ROZANOV: all good english idioms are about dogs

ROZANOV: but this reminds me

ROZANOV: you must guess what I learn

ROZANOV: Hunter

ROZANOV: Hunter

ROZANOV: guess

HUNTER: I’m not going to guess!

HUNTER: I don’t even want to know

ROZANOV: okay fine I tell you

HUNTER: I didn’t ask!

ROZANOV: I learn that chickens

ROZANOV: they are actually dinosaurs!

HUNTER: *descended from. Chickens are DESCENDED FROM dinosaurs

HUNTER: oh, shut up.

Saturday, June 22: Wynn Las Vegas

Scott smiled and excused himself from the latest round of gladhanding, oneupmanship, and schmoozing, powerwalking to the bathroom before anyone else could grab a hold of him.

He’d never minded these events before: despite the forced proximity with far too many coldblooded predators—League and player sponsors, League officials, and agents and managers, all of whom wanted to cut themselves a piece of the profit Scott brought in—he normally enjoyed the chance to socialize with his fellow players.

While the greater part of his emotional investment in hockey lay in his team, his players, almost two decades in professional hockey circles—counting his years in the Major Juniors and college—had left him with former teammates all over the League, and Scott wasn’t the kind of person who could just turn off his loyalty—his love—at the drop of a hat. Through those scattered brothers, he had connections to almost every team in the League, turning the whole organization into an extended family. And so the MLH Awards, even more than the All Star Game, was a family reunion for him—more players tended to come to the Awards than the All Star Game, since it was comfortably after the season rather than in the middle of the only week of rest they got—and he usually came to them with a long list of people he was excited to talk to (and only a couple, like Rozanov, who he wanted to avoid).

For that matter, Shane was hardly the first rookie he’d taken under his wing at one of these ceremonies—all the freshfaced kids who showed up at these things were like new baby cousins, to be the inducted into the community with, hopefully, just a little more grace and kindness than Scott himself had been shown.

So it was with an uncomfortable sense of something being off-kilter that Scott escaped into the restroom, undoing his pants with exhausted, tipsy clumsiness and then bracing himself with one hand on the wall and one around his dick as he waited for his taut, uptight frame to relax enough to actually let his full bladder release.

He owed Shane an apology. He’d laughed at the kid’s nerves that afternoon as they’d got dressed, when it turned out it was his own paranoia he should have been worried about. He’d really thought it would be fine. After all, they already knew how to act around each other in public, and their friendship cum mentorship was firmly cemented in the League’s eyes. Unless Scott actually started fucking Hollzy over a table (fuck, don’t imagine that), there was little to no possibility that anyone would twig anything about the change in their relationship.

Except that he hadn’t considered how hard it would be not to mentally undress Shane with his eyes, now that he’d had almost twenty-four hours to glut himself on the pleasures of doing it with his hands. He hadn’t realized that it might be difficult to refrain from taking Hollzy’s hand, or gripping the back of Shane’s neck, or letting his own hand wander down the kid’s back, now that he’d learned how rewarding such touches could be. He really hadn’t known how much his instincts would protest letting Shane walk away from him, how they would drive him to follow his lover around the room like a duckling—or maybe a guard dog would be a better analogy, given how fiercely he’d wanted to growl at some of the older men he’d seen approach Shane tonight, oily corporate dickheads with their condescension-ladened speeches about how it would surely be his turn next year, and in the meantime, perhaps he would be interested in…

In previous years, he would have just done exactly that, invulnerable in the knowledge that if anyone looked, there was nothing to find other than Scott showing an avuncular interest in a talented younger player. Tonight, he’d felt a shiver of fear crawl up his spine every time they’d come within ten inches of each other, as if anyone who saw them would be able to magically intuit what they’d done.

It was just how new it was, he reassured himself. They’d both been denying themselves for so long, and so it had exploded into a glut of raw sexuality and heat, passion igniting between them and burning itself out, leaving Scott, at least, feeling unwontedly soft and worn out and almost raw. And going straight from that to a long, sit-down formal program, followed by a formal reception, followed by a rager… It had been practically designed to give him whiplash. It wasn’t going to be like this every time they hooked up in the future.

It couldn’t be. Because telling Shane that they couldn’t hook up in the future simply wasn’t an option that Scott wanted to entertain…

He jumped—swearing quietly as a few droplets of urine splashed against the side of the urinal rather than in the basin—as someone slammed the door of the restroom open. He tilted his body from the entrance, facing the urinal more directly and hunching his shoulders, in the hopes that whoever it was would follow the unwritten etiquette of the men’s room and pretend that he wasn’t there, rather than the considerably more relaxed code of the locker room, where players could and often did carry out entire conversations with their dicks out.

But of course, he was never going to be that lucky.

“Hunter,” Ilya Rozanov said, ignoring the three open stalls and five open urinals, and instead taking the station right next to Scott’s, the fucking asshole. “Having a good night?”

“It was a lot better a second ago,” Scott said grimly. His dick had given up on producing anything more at some point during the commotion of Rozanov’s entrance, so he quickly shook it off and tucked it back into his underwear, trying to get out of there as quickly as possible.

He got about halfway through washing his hands before Rozanov jammed one hand on the sink next to him and the other against the paper towel holder, bracketing Scott into the corner. It would likely have been more intimidating had he not managed to trigger the automated dispenser, which obediently started spitting out paper towels. Both men startled slightly, and Rozanov spat out a quiet Russian curse and straightened up slightly, moving his hand out of range of the sensor.

“What the fuck, Rozanov?” Scott asked, withdrawing his hands from the automatic stream of water with an internal sigh. He was confident he could force his way past the Russian—he had height and reach on him, as well as age and experience—but it would definitely cause a commotion, and that wasn’t something either of them needed. Ever, really, other than on the ice, but especially given where they were.

“You are avoiding me,” the younger man stated, his water-colored eyes boring into Scott’s.

“I normally do,” Scott said, shrugging. He turned around, brushing up against the wide vee of Rozanov’s arms, and grabbed some of the paper towels hanging below the machine, tearing off the ones that had puddled on the floor and letting them fall. “Because you’re an asshole.”

Rozanov’s eyes narrowed. “You are also not hanging around Hollander like a lovesick puppy so much as usual.”

Scott bit back his instinctive denial—he had never acted like a lovesick puppy!—and forced himself to laugh instead. “I think you’re confusing me with yourself, there, Rozanov. And how’s that obsession going?”

Rozanov scowled, clearly frustrated by Scott’s unhelpful responses.

Scott tried to press his advantage, holding up the now dampened paper towels, brandishing them in the other player’s face. “You want to let me throw these away, or…?”

Rozanov’s frown turned into a smirk. “Or,” he said. Ducking his head around the paper towels, he moved closer to Scott, until their chests pressed together. “I pick or.”

“What are you doing?” Scott hissed, his heart pounding in his chest.

Rozanov’s smirk widened. His hands were on Scott’s hips, now, guiding him a bit forward and to the side, where Rozanov’s thigh was perfectly positioned for him to grind against.

Not that he was going to rub up against Ilya fucking Rozanov, of all people, in a public fucking bathroom—

“Why not?” Rozanov asked, his voice sinking down to a seductive hum. “You like men. I like men. You say you do not want to fuck Hollander, so…”

Again, Scott kept the denial in his throat, where it belonged. He knew he’d never told Rozanov that he didn’t want to sleep with Shane; only that he wasn’t, at that time. If the world had been a different place, he would have been delighted to step out with Shane Hollander on his arm, and he damn well wouldn’t have ever lied about that to one of the few people in his life whom he could have actually told.

Instead, he just finally shoved Rozanov off of him, like he should have done in the very beginning. “Because we’re in public, Rozanov, why the hell do you think? Do you have a fucking death wish?”

To his surprise, Rozanov went easily, backing up and leaning against the sink, shaking his head and grinning, as nonchalant as if the entire altercation hadn’t happened. “You and Hollander. Always ‘not here’, ‘someone could see’, ‘but we’re in public’! Like a pair of boots, you two.”

Scott snorted, thinking of the story Shane had told him about his first time with Rozanov. “Yeah, well, if you didn’t keep trying to hit on men in public restrooms, maybe you wouldn’t get that all the time.”

Rozanov’s face sobered in an instant. “He told you that?”

Scott rolled his eyes. “I told you, Rozanov—”

“You are friends, yes. I know,” Rozanov backed off further, pushing himself off the sink and turning to wash his own hands, finally.

For one brief moment, Scott thought he’d actually gotten away with it; that he was going to walk away from this conversation without saying anything that would provoke Rozanov’s jealousy, while also avoiding anything that might later be revealed as a lie.

And then Rozanov leaned past him to grab a paper towel, his eyes sweeping flirtatiously up Scott’s body—

(And what on earth was that about? He couldn’t mean it, surely?)

—and asked, in a performatively casual tone, “Just friends, right?”

And Scott… froze. Because the problem was that inevitably, Rozanov would learn about what had happened. There was no way that Shane could successfully lie to him, and Scott wasn’t about to ask Shane to avoid seeing him, and so if Scott lied now, it would look like he’d been afraid, or ashamed, and he wasn’t going to—

And now it didn’t matter, because his hesitation to answer had clearly given Rozanov the answer he’d been waiting for. The damp paper towel in his hands was suddenly in shreds, his face settling into a bleak mask that did an inadequate job of hiding the misery underneath it. As Rozanov tossed the paper towels into the waste bin, Scott grappled with a sudden wave of guilt. He’d guessed how Rozanov felt about Hollander, had known exactly how Shane felt in turn—no matter how much both of them had attempted to hide and deny it, even to themselves—and yet he’d barely even tried to talk Shane out of his plan. No, Scott had been too blinded by lust and the longing for a connection half as visceral as the one these two seemed to share to even think about the consequences of—

Scott just barely managed to grab Rozanov’s wrist as he turned toward the door.

“Rozanov, stop,” he managed to get out, despite the lump in his throat. “Will you chill the fuck out? It’s not… whatever you’re thinking.”

“Fuck off, Hunter.” Rozanov scoffed, so obviously fake in his dismissal that Scott couldn’t take it seriously even for a second. “What, you think I give a shit who Hollander fucks? Am just disgusted that he would sleep with ancient player like you, one foot in the grave. Is almost like necrophilia.”

“Seriously? Did you forget that you were literally just flirting with me, you fucking dick-for-brains?” Scott asked, disgusted.

From the way Rozanov blinked, stymied for a second, he had genuinely forgotten.

“Whatever,” he said finally. “So you are hot fossil. Still bad taste, when Hollander has better options.”

He tried to wrench his arm back, but Scott managed to retain his grip, digging his fingers into the muscle of Rozanov’s wrists.

“Who said he’s turning down any of his options?” he asked.

Rozanov frowned, scanning Scott’s face. “If he has you…” he started, then snapped his lips shut, the tips of his ears reddening.

Scott bit the inside of his bottom lip, stunned by what that particular comment implied. He would have never thought that Rozanov, ego-king of the League, didn’t actually have as good an opinion of himself as he pretended but…

Actually, maybe that made sense.

“Look, you made it clear you were fucking plenty of other people. That you’d fucked other guys,” Scott said, trying to project sincerity as much as he could. “How was that not supposed to be a little intimidating? And who else was he supposed to go to if he wanted to gain a little experience, before…”

“I scare him?” Rozanov asked, his eyes going wide and hurt.

Scott winced, knowing that Shane would murder him for saying that. “Jesus, not scared, just… Look, I shouldn’t have said anything about it, just… He’s still planning on meeting you in the fall. To satisfy your bet,” he added pointedly, reminding Rozanov where he’d gotten that particular idea. “So try to not lose it, okay?”

Rozanov blew out his lips in a raspberry, making Scott question, again, whether he was going to be sent to hell for getting involved with these children.

“I am not losing anything, Hunter,” Rozanov spat out. As if a switch had been turned, his eyes were suddenly back to their usual brightness and crinkling at the edges. Scott felt a sinking feeling in his guts. “Is okay if Hollander needed training fuck with you before he could go to big league with me. I will show him what a real fuck is like.”

“Oh yeah? You gonna make him come seven times in one night in order to outdo me, Rozanov? Cause—oh fuck,” Scott slapped his hand across his mouth, aghast at what had come out of it; but even as he grabbed with a fresh flood of guilt, he couldn’t help but laugh at the look of impressed shock that crossed Rozanov’s face.

“Don’t you dare tell him I said that,” Scott warned, knowing even as he said it that there was absolutely no chance that Rozanov wouldn’t spill all to Hollzy the first chance he got. He groaned. “Fuck, he’s going to kill me.”

“More likely you will die from broken hip, if you keep trying to fuck like you are still young man,” Rozanov chirped, but the razor-sharp edges were gone from his voice, and Scott just rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, well. Reach out if you need any tips, kid. S’what a mentor’s for, right?”

And then, whistling, he left before a gaping Rozanov could come up with another retort.

Then (2013)