Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warning:

Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types

Relationship:

Kip Grady/Scott Hunter

Characters:

Scott Hunter (Game Changers), Kip Grady, Eric Bennett, Carter Vaughn, Harv Murdock (Game Changers), New York Admirals Team Ensemble (Game Changers)

Additional Tags:

Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Serial Killer Scott Hunter, Obsessive Behavior, Not really graphic violence but people still die, Scott has a body count, And not in the fun sense, Episode: s01e03 Hunter (Heated Rivalry), What can I say Its weird, Scott thinks about murder a lot, Violence, Attempted Sexual Assault, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Murder, Serial Killers, Oral Sex, It has a happy ending I swear, Also maybe mild Stockholm Syndrome

Language:

English

Stats:

Published: 2026-03-14 Completed: 2026-04-12 Words: 21,054 Chapters: 3/3

Stay

Summary

“Fuck. All that Serial Killer talk was you warning me, wasn’t it?” Kip said in a joking tone.

Scott glanced at him. Because yes, he was right. It had been a warning. And like a lamb to the slaughter, Kip had still walked into his trap.

Notes

I was doing a re-watch while writing the next story in my Troublemakers series and it struck me while watching episode 3 that there are very few Serial Killer AUs, given how many times Scott and Kip talked about them.

So here we go. A Scott Hunter Serial Killer AU.

Chapter 1

In the world of Hockey, there were many people who, if asked, thought they knew everything there was to know about Scott Hunter.

It was public knowledge that he was, in his mid 30s, one of the most successful hockey players currently on the ice. He was the Captain of the New York Admirals; he was a repeat All Star Captain. He had the respect and trust of his peers, and he was a shoe in for the Captaincy of Team US at the Sochi Olympics where he stood a good chance of leading his team to a Gold Medal. His trophy collection was vase and although the Stanley Cup had still eluded him, many thought it was only a matter of time before it was added to his impressive achievements. The Hall of Fame was just waiting for him at this point.

It was also known that he was rich, had no immediate family and was single and handsome. There was a long line of gorgeous women just waiting for the chance to try and sweep him off his feet and get a ring on his finger, a fact that his friends reminded him of every day.

Those were the known facts.

There were, however, two facts that were not known by anyone but a very small and select group.

For one, Scott was a gay man. A fact which could, thanks to the blatant homophobia running unchecked throughout much men’s sports, derail his career in a moment.

And the other secret, which was even more closely guarded than his sexuality, was that he had a body count. Not in the sexual sense.

Scott Hunter was in fact, a serial killer.

—---

Scott really hadn’t meant to; the first time he had ever taken a life. Hell, even though he had meant a few others, he still didn’t really like to think of himself as a serial killer, despite meeting the criteria of more than three victims years ago. He was sure he was far too lazy, but the bodies had piled up somehow.

It had honestly just become a method to protect himself and if that meant he had to end a life or two to keep his sexuality a secret, then it was what it was.

The first time he had taken a life, he had been so young. A rookie with the Admirals, still in the euphoria of his first few professional games and the heady feeling of suddenly having more money than he had ever seen in his life.

Scott hadn’t had an easy life. At 12, his parents had been killed in an accident and since then, he had been handballed between distant relatives and occasional foster families. Never making friends. Never forming bonds with anyone. Always lonely.

Hockey had been a form of mourning. A shrine to his parents, both hockey coaches and fanatics and later, it had become an escape. The St Thomas scholarship had allowed him to use his talent in Hockey to go to a private boarding school, away from the endless upheaval of his life, and had given him the chance to play with better and better players, until finally, he was drafted and offered his first contract.

Unfortunately, Scott had been aware very early in his life that he wasn’t straight like all the other boys. The realisation had left him torn between who he should be. Should he be Scott Hunter, a gay man or should he be Scott Hunter, a hockey player.

The locker room talk had started when he was a teenager and Scott had become very aware that his sexual preferences were not welcome in his sport, despite his then teenage urges and the few short lived crushes he had developed on some of the boys at his school. He had never acted on any of them. Scott knew with a deadly certainty that if he wanted to be himself, it would destroy all he had. He would have to give up the sport which had gotten him through the dark times if it ever came out that he was gay.

In the end, it seemed like a no-brainer. Pushing down his buddying sexual urges seemed far easier than giving up his dream. Scott’s life had been hockey. His parents' lives had been hockey. In honour of them, he would put aside anything that could jeopardize it and would be the best hockey player he could be.

His first year with the Admirals at the grand old age of 18 had been great. Scott had managed to get a decent amount of time on the ice and proved he deserved his place on the team. He had been introduced to some amazing men, including the team's erratic but friendly Goalie, Eric Bennet, who had taken Scott under his wing.

But moving straight from his boarding school to New York hadn’t been perfect. Scott had been given accommodation by the team, a spare room in the house of one of the more senior players, a guy called Matthew Holmes.

The unofficial Billet Family situation had turned out to be a double edged sword. Matthew had been ok when with the team but at home, he was a bit of an asshole and Scott had learnt very quickly that the guy had only offered him the spare room of his house because his wife was heavily pregnant and he wanted someone to do the majority of the house work, including painting and setting up the new babies room.

Scott, at the time, had thought it was fair. He paid rent for the room and did the chores but got free lifts to training and Matthews' wife was nice enough.

But the way the guy spoke to her in front of Scott had made him uncomfortable. The tension had been high in the house and Scott had found the desire to move out growing by the day. Although Scott’s rookie salary hadn’t been much, eventually, he had decided to pull from the trust fund which had been set up containing the funds from his parents' life insurance to afford the rent of a small apartment.

Scott had spent enough time alone that moving into his own place hadn’t bothered him as much as some of the other young players on the team, but it had still been an adjustment. And an achievement.

Which was why, when word had gotten out that Scott had gotten his own place, the rest of his team decided to use it as an excuse to celebrate. So one night, when they didn’t have a game or training and had the time to let loose, they had all gone out to a local club.

Scott had been underage at the time, but his friends had worked their magic to get him in the venue, and the night had gone down as one of the best in Scott’s short life so far. The guys had bought him drink after drink and he had gotten well and truly drunk. Which was why he had broken his rule.

The club had been full of very attractive women and equally attractive men, including a green eyed siren who had introduced himself to Scott as ‘Simon’.

Simon had been in his mid twenties, with inky black hair and amazing cheekbones and Scott had immediately been attracted.

One thing had led to another and somehow, Scott had found the courage to invite the man back to his new apartment. It had been his first sexual experience with a man and although in hindsight nothing special, at the time it had felt like his world had changed.

Unfortunately, while Scott had still been coming down from the high of an intense orgasm, Simon had shown his true colours. He wanted money, and blackmailing a promising young hockey star seemed to be the best way to go about it. Simon had made all sorts of threats, demanding money with a condescending smirk, knowing that he had played Scott for a fool.

Scott had left an immediate stab of anger and betrayal and before Simon had even managed to rise from the bed, Scott had turned and grabbed a small sculpture off the bedside table. It had been a housewarming gift from Benny, some weird abstract art which Scott had no idea what to do with and more to the point, it was heavy and solid.

Scott didn’t even remember, in the haze of anger, lashing out. In fact, he didn’t even realise he had swung the sculpture until he had felt the warm splash of blood hit his face and finally noticed the strangled gasps from the man beside him as Simon let out his dying breaths. Scott had hit him so hard in the head and throat with the statue, it had crushed the other man's windpipe.

It was the first time Scott had watched a man die.

Only once Simon let out his death rattle, did Scott realise the gravity of what he had done. And he had panicked, breaking down in tears and hyperventilating into his hands.

Scott had finally done it. He had sacrificed so much of himself to honour his parents and make it as a pro hockey player and in one stupid moment of panic, he had destroyed everything. He was a failure.

Finally, after the tears had stopped and he felt drained, he tried to figure out what to do. There was a body cooling on his bed. A man dead at his hands. Yes, the guy had tried to manipulate him but still…

Unsure what else to do, Scott had called the only person he could think of. Eric Bennett.

Scott hadn’t really known what he had expected when Benny had arrived at his apartment. Maybe for the man to run out the door. He had at least expected Benny to tell him to call the police. It would be the ruin of his career, maybe his life. But it would be the right thing to do.

He hadn’t expected for Benny to take one long look at the body and immediately give Scott a list of instructions to follow. Of cleaning chemicals to use. Of ways to dispose of the evidence and get rid of the body. And more to the point, he hadn’t asked why there was a strange man in Scott’s bedroom. Scott had followed the older man's instructions to the letter, trusting him to lead him through this.

Benny had lectured Scott as they worked, cutting up the body enough that it would be impossible to identify him and planning where they would dump the remains, cleaning Scott’s apartment from head to toe and planning a cover story. It had been like being scolded by a parent, but Scott had been thankful, especially after learning that this wasn’t Benny’s first rodeo. The guy had a particular hatred of pedophiles and had taken out more than a few in his time already. Maybe that was why he had decided to help Scott out, given Scott’s young age.

Once they had finished cleaning up the crime scene, the sun had been rising and Scott had been exhausted. It turned out murder took a lot out of you.

Benny had pulled him into a hug before he left and some parting words that had haunted him.

“Next time, don’t be so stupid as to leave evidence.” The older man had muttered.

The words ‘Next time’ had played on repeat in Scott’s brain for hours after the man left. There wouldn’t be a next time, he had sworn at the time.

Unfortunately, it seemed Benny was right. About him and about there being a next time. Even as the low level of anxiety had followed him for days after, as he waited for the inevitable fall. For the police to arrive at his door, Scott had marveled about how easy it had been. And how little he regretted his actions.

Eventually, that feeling of guilt and fear had faded as the crime had gone cold and Scott had relaxed back into his new routine, playing Hockey and building up his profile as one of the best. A future legend.

Unfortunately, the loneliness hadn’t left him, even as Scott integrated into the team and made friends. A bitter loneliness which had followed him since that terrible day when he had been sat down and told his parents were gone. And the loneliness became mixed with a white hot rage, an anger at his abandonment. Why could no one ever choose him? He knew he wasn't the easiest person to love but didn't he deserve someone? Why did no one stay?

Scott had learnt to control his desires better, refusing to even glance in the direction of an attractive man until the season ended and he took the opportunity to travel for a few weeks. Travel to a place where he wasn’t the superstar player, the Rookie of the Year. A star. Somewhere he could be just another gay man, exploring his sexuality.

The second time he killed someone, it had been during a random hookup in Greece. The guy had been nice and Scott had enjoyed himself. But the moment it had ended, his bed partner for the night had collected his clothing to leave forever, muttering something about a husband and that same blackout had occurred.

By the time he had come out of it, he had smothered the guy with his pillow. He didn’t even remember the guy's name.

Benny’s lessons had been learnt well and Scott had managed to deal with the crime scene again, this time on his own. Getting rid of the body. Cleaning the scene and figuring out his alibi. It had been easy. Too easy.

For the second time in his life, Scott Hunter had literally gotten away with murder.

Unfortunately, that night had set a pattern of behaviour which Scott couldn't break. An MO. Like his other superstitions, such as always being the last person off the ice, always skating around the rink three times at the start of his warmup, knocking on his stall when he left the locker room and always repeating all his actions on a winning game day. Now he knew to always make sure any hot men he brought home wouldn't leave him. The consequences for breaking that rule would be disastrous.

Scott's body count had grown over the years. He didn't mean to, but it just seemed to happen. Every time he hooked up with a guy, the guy would end up dead by Scott's hands. Despite what the quizzels said, by the time he had begun his preparation for Sochi, Scott Hunter met the textbook definition of an active serial killer.

Scott knew he was an intense guy. He had been told that all his life. It was how he approached his game play, fixating on the puck and his drive to score a goal. It was how he approached his relationships with his team when he gained the Captaincy, pushing them all to be the best they could be. And it was how he approached his friendships.

He wanted people to stay in his life. And if they refused, well, Scott knew what he was likely to do. He had lost control when his parents died, when he was thrown into the system and he didn't ever want to be in that position again. If anyone had to leave him, it had to be on Scott's own terms.

His circle of friends had grown over the years. Benny had remained his mentor and older brother figure. Then Greg Huff joined their little group, followed by Carter Vaughn.

Scott suspected Huff may be in the know about what both he and Benny had done but Vaughny was definitely innocent and Scott was not going to allow him to ever get involved. He was too good a guy for that. And far too loyal. Vaughny would never abandon him, any more than Huff or Benny would. Which was why they were safe. Safe from Scott and safe for Scott. Scott had made a promise to himself that he would never drag his friends down if he was caught and he would keep it.

He also made a promise never to do anything in New York. It was too risky. He was too well known and had too many ties to the city. No matter how discrete he was, people would notice and if anything was linked back to him, it would be far more difficult to escape.

That was why he realised far too late, he was in trouble when Kip Grady entered his life.

Kip was everything Scott admired. He was funny, smart and gorgeous. He had a smile that could light up the room and a warmth that Scott wanted to live in.

And he was a New Yorker.

Scott knew he should have never gone back to the smoothy shop after his first game back on form. But the science behind his routine was solid and given Scott’s recent slump, he had been desperate for anything to break the fog before the Olympics.

So he had gone back, time and again to bask in the presence of the beautiful man with the soulful brown eyes. He hadn’t even been certain that Kip was gay until the lumberjack joke and by the time he had confirmation, he was in way too deep. He had to have the man.

But unfortunately, having him meant that once Kip decided to leave him, which he inevitably would, he had to die. It had become as much a routine of Scott’s as anything else. Checks and balances put in place and designed to keep him safe. He couldn’t break it, even if he wanted to. So he tried to push away the feelings. Hell, he had even subtly tried to warn Kip away, with that dumb joke about serial and spree killers.

And Scott felt he had almost managed to let Kip go. Even though he had invited Kip to his game, he had been equal parts relieved and annoyed that Kip had brought a woman with him. Maybe he had read Kip wrong and he wasn’t gay. And even if he was gay, there were now two people who could link Scott to Kip. His work colleague and this friend. That was far too many witnesses. Benny would be disappointed in him. So, it was better for Scott to let this infatuation die before anyone got hurt.

But then Kip had literally run into him at the charity event and well, Scott was a weak, weak man when it came to a pretty face.

Inviting Kip back to his apartment (Not the one where he had committed his first murder. Scott’s paygrade had grown and he had long since moved to a far grander, far more expensive apartment which also had the added bonus of being almost soundproof and with an impressive security system. No one was getting on or out without Scott knowing) had been way, way too easy. Scott knew it was a terrible idea. That Kip was not safe here, in Scott's domain. Not just because Scott wouldn’t be able to let him go but because he now knew Scott’s other secret and could destroy him if he chose. He was too much of a risk.

And yet, Kip had come along willingly. Had admired Scott’s home and hadn’t even been startled when Scott had pulled off his shirt and all but spelt out what he wanted.

The night had been amazing.

Scott knew he was a far better lover now than he had been that first time. He knew what he liked and had a good idea of how to read his partner's desires. Hell, he knew his cock sucking skills were great and he always made sure to leave whoever was in his bed boneless and satisfied. Apart from the murder, he liked to think he was a good partner.

And Kip…Kip was perfect.

While Scott didn’t really mind if he was on bottom or top when it came to sexual encounters, the one thing he did like was being able to manhandle his partner. He loved being able to physically move his lover into different positions and change things up whenever he wanted.

Not everyone had been keen on it, but Kip definitely shared his kink, not minding how Scott had dragged him up by his shirt collar and then thrown him back down on the bed. How the physically bigger man had pulled and pushed him around.

Fuck, it was going to be so hard to end his life.

Finally, they were both sated and Scott had found himself drifting towards sleep. It was a dumb thing to do, letting his guard down like that and yet around Kip, he felt comfortable. Too comfortable.

In fact, if Kip had just waited a few more minutes, Scott would have been fast asleep for his getaway.

The drowsiness however, wore off instantly as Scott felt Kip shift and slip out of the bed, snapping back into awareness. Immediately he flicked the lights on, his mind fully back to the present instead of the post orgasm haze. His muscles tensed, ready to move.

Scott was fit and a lot faster than people expected, given his size. He could easily lunge off the bed and grab the other man before Kip managed to slip out the door. Crowd the man against the wall. Scott would make it quick. Kip hadn't done anything to deserve a drawn-out death. It was the only kindness he could offer for the man who was, like so many others, abandoning him.

Break his neck. It would be fast. No suffering.

Kip, pants still partly undone, had been startled by the sudden movement but not afraid. He didn't realise he had anything to be afraid of.

Scott knew he should move now, while Kip was calm and unaware of what was to happen. And yet, he hesitated. He wanted to give the guy a chance. A chance not to disappoint him like so many had.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

Kip gave him a small, apologetic smile.

“I didn’t want to wake you.” The younger man explained. “And I just thought, since you have a game tomorrow and….”

His voice faded as Scott held out a hand. A peace offering. A last chance for Kip to save himself. Then he waited. Waited for the inevitable excuses. That it hadn’t been like that. That Scott had misread the situation, and this was just some fun. That Kip had to go to work or home or some other place, away from Scott. Waiting for the trigger to be pulled on the metaphorical gun at Kip’s head.

But Kip had surprised him. Instead of making some weak excuse, Kip had moved closer, taking Scott’s offered hand and allowing himself to be pulled back down to sit on the bed. Scott made sure to keep his grip gentle but firm. Ready to tighten if Kip tried to draw away. He was within striking distance now and it would be much easier to end this if Scott could keep him close, rather than chase him.

“Can you stay?” Scott finally asked. He tried desperately to hide the surprise in his voice. He had never had someone actually accept the offered hand before. Instead, he fixed his gaze on Kip's face, his big brown eyes, made even more beautiful with the fading haze of a good orgasm. The rumpled curls which Scott had definitely caused. The dimples on his cheeks.

Kip let out a small, almost amused sounding huff.

“Yeah.” He said, his mouth forming a smile.

Scott swallowed. No one had stayed before.

“Then stay. Please.” He almost whispered.

Scott had heard that people sometimes smiled with their eyes. He had never really believed it until he saw it for real, the subtle shift in Kip’s eyes as his smile grew warmer. Kip gave a small nod, confirming his intentions and Scott knew he was completely lost on this man. Possessive. This wasn’t about murder to keep his secret anymore. Scott now knew he had to keep Kip with him by any means necessary.

Leaning forward to initiate a kiss, he was glad to note that Kip too, leant in. The other man wanted this as bad as Scott did. Wrapping his arm around Kip's torso, Scott gently pulled the younger man back to lay on the bed, caging him in his arms.

Safe. Controlled.

His.

-----

Kip was definitely not what Scott had come to expect from a lover. For one, after that first request, he seemed content to stay.

The second time Scott had been caught unaware by the man, waking up in his bed alone after their second round of sex, he had quickly discovered that instead of trying to escape, Kip had gone to the kitchen and decided to make Scott a smoothie.

Scott rarely used his kitchen. He wasn’t much of a cook and didn’t trust himself to eat healthy if given free reign over his diet so the team's nutritionist had organised a ready made meal service for him. Twice a week, pre-made meals were dropped off at his front door along with a range of fruits and vegetables while he was out at practice and he simply picked whatever seemed most interesting each day.

He had made a few changes to his standard order over the last few weeks, mainly adding blueberries to his list of fruits he wanted available for easy snacks (Banana’s had already been a regular order of his) but Scott had never considered trying to remake his smoothie from scratch. That seemed to be firmly Kip’s territory and besides, it had given him an excuse to visit the shop, wanting the drink.

Hell, Scott hadn't even realised he owned a blender, which had probably been a house warming gift from years ago, until he had heard the jarring noise of it working.

Stumbling into the kitchen, he had only been half surprised to find Kip there, dressed only in his underwear, cleaning the counter after working his blender magic.

Kip, taken by surprise had babbled some words about wanting to make him the drink and well, Scott didn’t care if he appeared needy as he walked over to the other man, ignoring every word he said and instead only focused on bodily picking up and taking man back into his bed and fucking him into a coma. A plan which Kip seemed completely on board with.

Once they had again come down from the orgasmic high, Scott had managed this time not to let Kip out of his sight as they both stumbled back into the kitchen to finally drink the smoothies.

It was then, Scott had been enjoying the smoothie and the attractive, semi-naked man standing before him, that Kip again floated the idea of leaving again.

“So… I should probably go.” The younger man had said and Scott had to fight not to show the disappointment on his face. He didn’t know why he imagined Kip would be happy to stay put. He didn’t know why he thought Kip would be different from the others.

Immediately, his mind went to how he could painlessly and cleanly dispatch the man. Where the body could be hidden. It seemed too cruel to dismember him and dump his body in pieces around the city (Scott’s go to method) but anything else was too risky.

But if he couldn’t give Kip a dignified resting place, at least he could make the death quick. Maybe an overdose? Scott had a few bottles of very powerful sleeping tablets from the last time he had dislocated his knee. He hated using any medications if he could avoid it but had kept them around on the off chance he may need them.

Scott would have to figure out a safe way to get Kip to take enough to put him to sleep permanently without clueing him in to what he was doing. Maybe if he distracted him enough, he could slip them into Kip’s portion of the smoothie?

Scott was about to suggest Kip do something in the other room, to give him time to go get the tablets and yet it seemed his mouth and his brain were not on the same wavelength.

“Um….What if you didn’t?” He found himself asked.

Kip looked surprised and then let out a small laugh.

“Go? Like ever?” He asked.

Scott grinned. Because that was exactly it. Kip didn’t have to ever leave him. It was an option. One Scott really hoped Kip would take.

Instead Kip looked away, letting out a breathy laugh.

“Fuck. All that Serial Killer talk was you warning me, wasn’t it?” Kip said in a joking tone.

Scott glanced at him. Because yes, he was right. It had been a warning. And like a lamb to the slaughter, Kip had still walked into his trap.

Scott tried not to sigh as Kip’s laughter subsided, the man really looking at him almost like he could read Scott’s thoughts and suddenly realised exactly what this was and how much danger he was really in. He glanced down at the remains of his smoothie, not wanting to make eye contact in case Kip could see his past in his eyes.

Then, almost without his brain's permission, he was saying things. A lot of things. It wasn’t exactly a confession. Well, not about the murders. But it was honest. About being gay, being in the spotlight and how much he risked by coming out. How he couldn’t do that.

And how he wanted Kip to still stay with him, even thought it would hurt.

Then he was begging for Kip to say something, anything. Because Scott was starting to think this thing between him and Kip was real. More real than any of the others. And he needed to know where Kip’s mind was at before he potentially murdered the best thing that had ever happened to him.

With a sigh, Kip moved away from the counter and Scott glanced down at the bench, his heart sinking with disappointment. But instead of leaving to the other room to get dressed, Kip instead moved to the seat next to Scott’s.

“I think I’d love to be here when you get back.” The man said. “And I don’t think you’re too lazy to be a serial killer.”

Scott couldn’t help laughing at the comment. At how accurately Kip had read him, even if he couldn’t possibly know the truth. And at how he now had confirmation Kip would stay. That he didn’t have to destroy the man.

The rest of the morning was spent in calm and quiet. Scott had to head off to practice and then the game later but for now, he was content to learn how to exist around Kip.

A part of Scott, the ugly hidden part, was calling him a fool, telling him that Kip was just waiting for him to leave to make his escape but the other, calmer, quieter part was telling him that for once, he had to have faith. Kip had promised to be home when he got back.

Kip of course, still had to go to his old home to pick up some clothing and his school work. As much as Scott would love to keep him locked away and half naked all the time, it wasn’t practical. Not if he wanted to keep the man forever. Kip had a job, had school to think of. He couldn’t be caged, no matter how much Scott wanted to. Not if Scott wanted to avoid his greatest secret coming out.

Scott tried not to think of the saying his mother had once said, long ago.

“If you love something, set them free. If they come back, it was meant to be.”

Scott had to see if Kip would come back to him.

Heading out the door to practice had been hard. Kip had borrowed one of Scott’s shirts and was looking amazing in it.

Scott had made sure before he left, to get Kip’s phone number and his parents address (He had told Kip about the car service he sometimes used and offered to have it drop the other man off and collect him when he got his things, just to make sure he got back on time. Kip had refused the offer but at least Scott had gotten the address out of him) He had also waited until Kip wasn’t looking and added a tracker to Kip’s phone, just in case and well, Scott was feeling optimistic. If Kip didn’t return home, then he would be easy to find.

Scott had gone to practice in a remarkably cheerful mood. Enough that he had definitely caused more than a few of his teammates to look at him with confusion, all wondering where their intense Captain had gone. But Scott didn’t care. He was never a gambling man but he had made a huge bet. Betting his entire life and career in fact, and was now waiting to see if it had paid off.

Fortunately for him, it had. When he had walked through the door of his apartment again, feeling sweaty and tired but good, he had been greeted by Kip, still safe in his home, relaxed and studying.

Scott couldn’t help but dive on top of him, pressing breath stealing kisses to his mouth before once again dragging him to bed.

It took all his might to loosen his grip on his life but to keep Kip with him, Scott had to believe it was worth it. And it seemed that it was.

The Admirals were on a hot streak. Even the anxiety when Scott had to leave Kip for several nights for away games, the small sliver of doubt still in the back of his mind, had been worth it just to come home to the man again.

Kip still worked and Scott still made time to visit him on game days, playing at being a favourite customer. And when they were alone, they fucked like rabbits.

Of course, it wasn’t all smooth sailing. Although Scott was fairly sure now that Kip had no idea he was a murderer, there was still the issue that he was a closeted gay man and Kip wasn’t.

Scott knew from what Kip had told him, that Kip had been out for years, and was an active part of the gay community. He was known. And it hurt him to keep their relationship a secret.

Scott had tried. God knew he had.

Taking Kip to the gallery to see his favourite artist had been an attempt at being normal and showing Kip he could give a little ground in this relationship, not just take. Scott had tried to rationalise it in his head that he was just going as a friend. But still, the idea of anyone seeing him with Kip, of anyone who knew Kip and knew his sexuality, could see Scott with him and connecting the dots, was panic inducing.

Kip had been good about it, trying to comfort Scott when they got home even as the little devil in Scott’s head once again started whispering its doubts. Doubts that Kip wanted this. Doubts that Kip would stay when he realised he was stepping back into the closet to be with Scott.

Again, Scott found himself contemplating ending this. Yes, it was a risk. He was fairly sure that Kip’s friends suspected he and Scott were in some sort of relationship. Scott didn’t know the people and didn’t know if they would go to police if Kip went missing. But he was struggling to see any other option. Unless…. He could let Kip go.

The idea of it terrified him, almost as much as the thought of having to kill him did. If Kip left, then Scott had lost control. There was someone out there with the power to destroy him and Scott had no way to stop it.

Scott knew he was caught in a trap of his own making. On one hand, he may have to kill the guy he had fallen in love with. On the other, if he let Kip live, then Kip could destroy him. Scott didn’t know what was a worse outcome.

So he had done what he always did. Pretended it wasn’t an issue and tried to move forward.

But eventually, the choice was made for him, the night of the fundraiser for the St Thomas Scholarship.

Scott had been surprised to learn, when he had been invited, that Kip was also going to be there. Not as an invited guest and definitely not as a server but as a plus one for his best friend, who happened to work for an organisation with close ties to the charity.

After their failed attempt at an outing together, Scott had actually been excited by the idea of being around Kip outside of his work or the apartment. It would be difficult to hide how besotted he was with the man but even if it was just for a minute, the idea of being able to stand beside Kip and talk in a public space was thrilling.

Vaughney was there too and Scott knew he would have to somehow shake off his friend if he wanted to speak to Kip but it would be worth it. And the fact that he had managed to talk Kip into wearing one of his tux’s (Tailored so it would fit Kip’s shorter frame) had been like an invisible mark of ownership. Only Scott and Kip would know.

The night was always going to be tough. To revisit that part of his life. But knowing Kip was there, being able to hold onto Kip’s presence had helped him through the worst of his speech.

He hadn’t expected how much of a firecracker Kip’s friend Elena was. Or the pointed words she had to share with him after dragging him out onto the dance floor.

Honestly, Scott had tried to just enjoy his night, not think about how Kip could be miserable and he had no way to know it. But he knew, when he and Kip stepped through the door to the apartment, that he wasn’t the only one contemplating things.

He had tried. Tried to explain to Kip his thoughts. But he also understood where Kip was coming from. Kip was hiding so much of himself from the other people who loved him. His friends and his dad and it was hurting Kip so much. Scott was used to hiding but Kip wasn’t. And it was killing him, almost as if Scott had already acted against him.

“I’m going to go home tonight. I need to.”

Scott tried not to let the finality of those words strike his heart. The unsaid goodbye. He simply nodded in understanding, even as inside, he was screaming.

The white-hot rage was building again, ready to explode. Scott knew his hand was resting on the kitchen counter, just above the draw which contained some very sharp knives. It had finally come to this, like Scott knew it would. Kip was leaving and Scott had to follow through with his routine.

And yet, even as Kip rose from his chair and turned to leave, Scott found he couldn’t move. Couldn’t strike the man he had come to love with his whole being.

The rage dissipated, leaving Scott feeling numb as he heard Kip’s footsteps grow faint and the gentle click of the lock on his door close. The sound of the man leaving him forever. Leaving alive.

For the first time, Scott had let someone go. Had broken his routine.

He had taken a risk. Because despite all the men he had killed, the ease in which he had ended lives, the fear of breaking his routine was nothing compared to the thought of living in a world without Kip Grady in it.

Chapter 2

Chapter Summary

Scott had never really had a ‘type’ when it came to the guys he hooked up. In his mind, anyone interested in him was fair game, regardless of appearance.

But this time, it was different. All three of his victims had the same look about them. The shorter, stockier build. Pale skin, dark hair and eyes.

Scott realised that these men all had something which connected them. They were all confident gay men. And they all shared more than a passing resemblance to Kip Grady.

Chapter Notes

I thought I was done with this story and content to leave it as a weird little one-shot. But a few days ago I started reading the North Shore Titans Hockey series and let's just say, after reading six books about Queer Hockey Players committing a startling number of murders, I was inspired.

Content warning - This chapter contains Murder (obviously. Scott goes on a bit of a spree), non-con drug use and attempted sexual assault (not between Scott and Kip) and very possessive behaviour. It's a dumb story and I really don't want anyone triggered or upset over this.

To say the first few days after letting Kip go were hard for Scott would be an understatement. Those first few days were absolute torture.

Scott’s mind was constantly screaming at him, telling him he had messed up. Telling him that he needed to hunt Kip down and either drag him back to the apartment and lock him away forever or complete his routine and end the man and whatever spell that had laid ahold of him.

Each time, Scott pushed the thoughts away.

It didn’t help that it wasn’t a clean break.

Scott had wanted to avoid Kip. After all, the further away he was from Scott, the safer he would be. The less likely the voices would win and Scott would follow through with his plans.

But on the day of Kip’s birthday, Scott had remembered the name of the bar he had mentioned and well, it hadn’t taken a genius to find the address for the Kingfisher, a small gay bar in Manhattan.

Scott hadn’t gone into the venue but he had found a place outside where he could stand, out of the way and unnoticed, to watch the other man celebrate with the people who loved him.

Scott knew he could have been a part of it. This little group of people dear to Kip’s heart. Kip had left a space for him.

It had been Scott’s own cowardice which had stopped him. A mental barrier which should be simple to break. Still, he couldn’t make himself walk through that door.

That didn’t stop him from using every available spare moment he had to try and track Kip down, just for a chance to see the man. He never approached him, never let Kip know he was there. But being able to see him was a highlight of Scott’s one again lonely existence.

And when he couldn’t see him, well…. Kip hadn’t blocked his number.

To be fair, Scott wasn’t the one to instigate contact. In fact, there had been radio silence between them for weeks after Kip had walked out of the apartment until one morning, out of the blue, Scott had received a text from the number he couldn’t make himself delete. It wasn’t a proclamation of love or a request to come back. It was simply a link to an article someone had written about the St Thomas Foundation which had mentioned Scott as one of its greatest successes.

Scott had really wanted to reply, to beg Kip to come and talk to him but had managed to stop himself. He knew if Kip came back into his life, his promise to let the other man live would break. Kip would never be allowed to leave him again. So for the safety of the man he loved, Scott refused to allow himself to cave to his desires and simply sent back a ‘thumbs up’ in reply.

That didn’t stop Kip from occasionally texting him, usually dumb memes or observations of something he thought Scott would find interesting. And it didn’t stop Scott from thinking of the man every waking moment.

Sometimes, when he was on the ice, he would look up into the stands and imagine he could see Kip there, watching him. But it was just a nice dream.

A dream which was fast becoming a nightmare.

Scott knew he was in trouble when he finally reached Sochi. He hadn’t seen Kip for a few weeks at that point, despite changing his running route to include the Kingfisher, the Straw+Berry and occasionally Kip’s dad’s house.

Scott had learnt through the grape vine that Kip had managed to get into his Grad School and he guessed that meant Kip had moved away and not told him but still, he had hoped that somehow, he would see the other man. Even just a glimpse of him from a distance to tide him over as he chased his Olympic dream.

So attuned to looking for Kip in every room he entered, he had almost done a double take when he had arrived in Sochi with his team, ready to compete.

It was a young man who had caught his attention. Stocky build, dark curly hair. From a distance, he could be mistaken for a certain student. It wasn’t Kip, of course, no matter how much Scott wished it was. Instead, the mystery man turned out to be a young snowboarder from team Great Britain.

Scott knew it was a mistake to even glance the guy's way a second time but once he had noticed the man, he couldn’t stop himself from tracking him. From trying to contrive a meeting.

Which turned out to be much easier than Scott had expected.

He had met Jamie, the snowboarder, during breakfast early in his residence in the village. They had won their second game the night before and were on a great run to Gold, especially after the shit show that was Russia’s loss, and the other guys were planning to catch up in one of the athletes' lounges for breakfast. Scott had a great sense of direction, but who was to blame him when he happened to notice a cute snowboarder happen to be heading in the opposite direction towards one of the other lounges, if he happened to get turned around. Stupid maps all in Russian were confusing enough.

So, he had headed to the wrong lounge, hoping that he wasn’t being completely stupid. Thankfully when he got there, there weren’t many people. A few of the guys from Team Sweden and Denmark but no one Scott knew from the League. A few other groups of athletes were talking quietly but none of them paid any attention. And the man Scott was interested in sitting alone at a table with a coffee and a book.

There had also been a smoothie bar in the lounge, so Scott had gotten himself one. It wasn’t as good as Kip’s, but it was better than nothing. When he turned, drink in hand, he couldn’t help but notice the man had lowered his book and was definitely staring at him. So Scott had decided to do something reckless and decided to speak to him.

Jamie was sweet and chatty. He came from a town in Sussex and loved poetry, which is what he had been reading when he had noticed Scott. He wasn’t as quick or as snarky as Kip, his accent felt almost grating compared to Kip's softer Brooklyn drawl, but he was close enough in appearance that Scott could imagine. And he was definitely interested. Scott wasn’t brilliant at picking up if someone was flirting with him, but this guy was not subtle.

Still, it was flattering. Or it had been, until Scott had let himself start to imagine taking this guy to bed. He imagined Jamie under him, moaning and groaning. Responding to every touch Scott gave him. He imagined wrapping his hand around Jamie’s cock to get him off. He imagined his other hand resting against Jamie’s chest. Then he imagined his hand travelling up to Jamie’s neck. He imagined applying pressure. Imagined the bliss on Jamie’s face turning to panic, the jolts of pleasure turning into thrashing. Imagined the man's strength starting to weaken as life slipped from him. The hot heat of living flesh slowly cooling as Jamie’s face twisted and turned into Kip’s.

He imagined this innocent man dying by his hands. He imagined Kip dead under him.

Scott had never imagined someone's death before. And definitely never while imagining he was fucking them. It had always been a knee jerk reaction to the dreaded knowledge he was being abandoned. Never pre-planned. But now he was actually plotting a murder.

The realisation had hit Scott like a tonne of bricks.

Wide eyed, Scott had jumped to his feet from where he had been seated with the man. Jamie, surprised by the reaction, had tried to backtrack his flirting but it was too late. Scott knew he needed to get the hell out of there before he did something terrible. He knew it made him look bad, look homophobic but he couldn’t be around this man. They were both in Russia. Jamie was an athlete, here to represent his country. This wasn’t just dangerous for Jamie. It was fucking suicide for both of them.

Scott had fled the lounge, swearing he wouldn’t go near Jamie again. That way lies madness.

But it was on his mind, how close he had come to disaster. The thought had followed him when he had gone back to his room, found Vaughny and after seeing how wound-up Scott was, the two had gone for a walk. Had been on his mind when he and Vaughny had found Hollander and Vaughny had encouraged him to disregard the self-imposed rule not to engage with members of other countries teams, despite half of them being fellow teammates.

Had been on his mind when the three of them had sat in the store with ice creams in hand and Vaughny had mentioned how brave Hollander’s friend was, for being gay in Russia.

Hell, it had still been on his mind when they had all met up to go watch team Canada win the figure skating competition.

Scott knew that he had crossed a boundary he had always unconsciously kept in his mind. Keeping a line between sex and murder. Although until Kip, all his sexual encounters with men had ended up in murder, he had always managed to keep the two concepts separate in his head. He hadn’t gone out to hook up with someone with the intention of killing them after. But now it was linked and he wasn’t sure if he could go back to normal.

Only when he had gotten back to his room after watching the competition and saying goodbye to Hollander (Who had seemed even more quiet than he normally was. Maybe he too had a lot on his mind) did Scott allow himself to really confront these thoughts.

His desire to murder and his desire to get Kip back, mixing into one dangerous thought. He knew now, he had lost control of this, knew he had never truly had control to begin with. He was a monster and Kip was the monster tamer.

But Kip was gone now. Scott didn’t even know where he was. Yes, there was that small line of communication but that meant nothing in the grand scale of things. Scott would have to lock up this monster on his own.

Almost unthinking, he had turned to his suitcase, the small one he had brought filled with personal affects, not the larger one filled with his gear and the Team USA items he was contractually obligated to wear. Packed in a small pocket in the lining of the suitcase were the socks. Blueberry coloured with cartoon bananas on them.

They weren’t the original socks. No, Kip had bought Scott three more pairs after seeing how quickly socks deteriorated when worn inside Scott’s skates for several games in a row. But they were still Kip's gift. A little nod to the superstitions that had kept Scott’s monster caged.

Scott had brought them in the hopes that, should Team USA get to the finals, their magic could lead them to the gold.

Now he knew, once this was over, he could never wear them again. He couldn’t be dependent on someone else. He needed to do this alone. And he would.

Returning to the States with a gold metal stashed in his bag had been bittersweet. The knowledge that despite reaching what many would consider the pinnacle of his career, there was no one waiting for him to share it was hard to swallow, especially when he had seen Gloria waiting for Vaughny at the airport. The two's relationship was sweet, and Scott had been lucky enough to watch it grow. Scott was glad his friend was happy but still, it hurt knowing that all he had waiting was a cold apartment.

Still, Scott had promised he would stop his reliance on the memory of Kip. He retired the socks, burying them deep in an old sports bag in the back of his closet, just on the off chance he would need them. He changed his route for his morning run, so he would avoid going past the Straw+Berry. He stopped himself from going anywhere near the Kingfisher or Kip’s family home. He didn’t respond to the sporadic texts from Kip, congratulating him on the Olympic win.

Instead, he looked for other habits to get him through.

Scott wouldn’t say it was completely successful. The rest of the Admirals season was a mixed bag, the team making it to the playoffs but were knocked out shortly after, ending their run for the 2014-2015 season.

Scott, as was his habit, took a few weeks off to travel to places he wasn’t well known. Where he didn’t have to be a good role model. Where he could just be himself. This time, he swore he wouldn’t hook up with anyone and if he did, he would leave them alive.

That promise to himself was quickly broken when Scott had to leave Amsterdam early, three bodies left in his wake. Thankfully he was still an expert at hiding his tracks, but it had disturbed him to realise that something was different this time. Not just the volume but the victim.

Scott had never really had a ‘type’ when it came to the guys he hooked up with before. In his mind, anyone who seemed remotely interested in him was fair game, regardless of appearance.

But this time, it was different. All three of his victims had the same look about them. The shorter, stockier build. Pale skin, dark hair and eyes. Hell, one of them even wore wire framed glasses when he met Scott.

Scott realised that, like Jamie, these men all had something which connected them. They were all confident gay men. And they all shared more than a passing resemblance to Kip Grady.

Fuck, was Scott killing these guys as a substitute for Kip? The one that got away?

The 2015-2016 season was an absolute shit show. After returning to the States, Scott had tried and failed to throw himself into Hockey, to try and push down these urges so deep inside that they would disappear entirely. Unfortunately, a knee injury early in the season put him on the bench for far too long. It wasn’t career ending, even if briefly Scott had hoped it would be, since if his career in Hockey was over, maybe, just maybe he could come out.

But it wasn’t and Scott had to wait and heal.

Occasionally Kip would text, as if trying to see if they could still be friends. Hell, he had even offered to visit and help Scott recover but Scott rejected the offer. If Kip entered his apartment, Scott was sure he wouldn’t be able to let the man go again, injury be damned.

So, Scott struggled alone. He watched more serial killer documentaries and read more books, he went to a gallery with Benny and tried not to think back on his disastrous trip with Kip and hung out with Vaughny and Huff at bars and restaurants and their apartments. He worked with his sponsors and casually enquired with Todd, his agent, about starting some sort of scholarship. He rested as much as he could. He annoyed Murdock far too much to be healthy, although he was fairly sure he was now shortlisted to become an assistant coach once he retired. And he tried not to think about how lonely it was and how Hockey had once again become the only thing left in his life.

In fact, he was almost ready to burst with frustration when the team's physiotherapist finally cleared him for light cardio. He was still off the ice for another few weeks, which would be the season if the Admirals didn’t make the playoffs, but it was something to be able to finally start rebuilding his strength and stamina, ready for the next year.

Scott hated the monotony of running in his home gym so the first morning after he got the all clear, he was in his running gear and out the door. He couldn’t go his full speed, but a light jog would do to shake out the cobwebs. He hadn’t been thinking when his feet turned to the familiar route. Hadn’t even registered where he was until he noticed the decorative blue building and pink sign of the Straw+Berry just a few feet ahead of him.

Kip wasn’t there; he told himself. There was no point in going in. Or even being outside, loitering like a creep. Scott had been about to turn around and begin his jog back home when he caught sight of him. The man who had haunted him.

God, Kip looked exactly the same as Scott remembered, as he stepped in front of the glass window inside the building. Still as beautiful as when Scott had taken him to his bed for the first time. His back was turned to the street and Scott could tell he was talking to someone further inside the building, probably his friend Maria, if Scott had to guess. Still, Scott knew it was him. He would never be mistaken when it came to Kip.

Stepping back behind some shrubs so he wasn’t visible to the occupants of the shop, Scott debated what he should do. Should he go in? Pretend he was just there for a smoothie? Pretend like he hadn’t stopped going to the store since Kip had left him? Maybe see if Kip would speak to him?

No. That was stupid. Even if Kip had stopped working there which Scott was fairly sure he had, he would know from his coworkers (former coworkers?) if Scott had been there without him. Which he hadn’t. Not for over a year. Besides, Scott had promised he would leave Kip alone. Going into the store was a recipe for disaster.

And yet, Scott had loitered outside the store, trying not to draw any attention. Unfortunately, that wasn’t possible since he was a famous hockey player and after winning a gold medal for his country, his fame had only grown. Soon enough a few fans had spotted him and approached for autographs and selfies.

Scott, despite wanting to tell them all to fuck off, obliged, although he did take the precaution to take a few more steps back, hoping that the crowd wouldn’t draw Kip’s attention to him. He didn’t need Kip to think he was a stalker.

Unfortunately, this meant that Scott had to take his attention away from the store and by the time he glanced up again after the last fan had thanked him and walked away, he had lost sight of the man.

Scott wanted to stay, hoping that Kip would once again appear, instead he forced himself to turn and begin his trek home. Although he was disappointed he didn’t manage more than a brief glimpse of the man, he also felt re-energised in a way he couldn’t explain. More than ready to get back on the ice.

Once again, his daily runs turned back to the old familiar routes. Past the Straw+Berry, past the Kingfisher. Hell, if he could manage it, past the Grady house. But he didn’t see Kip again.

Finally, Scott was cleared to get back on the ice but still, Kip had managed to elude him. Objectively, he knew a brief glimpse wasn’t ever going to be enough. Scott knew he needed more. His game was back on point since his brief run in but it could only be sustained for so long so Scott did the one thing he promised himself he wouldn’t do. He got onto social media.

Scott wasn’t generally on social media. Yes, he had the usual accounts. Facebook, Instagram, Twitter. They were all his official accounts and run by the Admirals Social Media manager. But he did have access to them.

So one night, while sitting at home, bored and frustrated after a long practice and an even longer team meeting, he had jumped onto his accounts and started searching.

Scott had never done this before. It had always felt like a step too far. But he was getting desperate. Even just seeing a picture of Kip should be enough to hold him over for the last few games of the season.

Finding Kip’s account hadn’t been too difficult, given his unusual nickname. There weren’t a lot of Christophers who went by the name Kip in New York and Scott also had Kip’s last name to work off.

Scott wasn’t exactly an expert at this stuff but he was determined and that counted for a lot. Unfortunately, when he finally found them, it looked like Kip’s accounts were all private and Scott knew enough to know if he wanted to see them, he would have to make himself known to Kip. So he decided to try and get creative. The Kingfisher Bar had a social media account. And loved to post pictures of their patrons having a good time. Finding Kip’s photo had been the easy part. There were several of him, all with the same group of people, his friends. One of them, Scott recognised.

Maria, the girl from the Straw+Berry.

Her accounts weren’t private. And more to the point, she was a very active user.

Checking her account, Scott tried not to shout in triumph when he saw she had posted just a few minutes prior. A grainy picture of a few people in a bar of some sort. Not the Kingfisher but another place. And Kip was in the photo. Not the subject of the picture, which was another person Scott recognised, Elena. But Scott could see Kip in the background, talking to someone else.

He was there. Right now. And Maria had even tagged the venue. A gay club of some sort.

Scott didn’t even think as he pulled on his shoes. The venue Maria had tagged was walking distance from Scott’s apartment. He didn't have to go inside or approach Kip but just getting a quick glimpse of the man would be enough to tide him over for another few games. The end of the season was fast approaching, and Scott had refused to make plans to travel this year. He needed to see Kip just once and he would be content. Everyone would be safe and his inner monster could rest.

The night air was cold, and Scott was glad he had grabbed a warm jacket, the collar of which he could pull up over his mouth and nose to preserve warmth. It also gave him a little bit more animosity. He had even had the foresight to put a pair of gloves in the pocket of his jacket in case he needed them. Any warmth was welcome.

It wasn’t a long walk but still, Scott was on edge when he finally located the venue. A few people were loitering outside but it was getting close to closing time so there were no huge crowds. Which suited Scott just fine.

Finding a place to stand a few buildings away, he leant against a wall and tried to disappear into the shadows, even as his eyes were fixed on the entrance. He just hoped he wasn’t too late and Kip and his friends hadn’t left already.

After roughly 20 minutes of nothing, Scott started to wonder if he was being an idiot. Had Kip left early? Was he wasting his time here? Scott considered his options.

He could wait for a few more minutes. The crowd of people leaving were starting to thin out and the lights were being switched off, showing that the bar was closing. No, that was stupid. He should just go home.

Scott was about to leave when he saw him. Kip stepped out the front of the venue, pulling his coat tight around him. He stumbled a little, probably intoxicated and Scott frowned. Where were his friends? Why was he alone?

Scott knew the streets of New York weren’t exactly safe and he didn’t like the idea of the other man risking attack. It would be safer if Scott followed him, just to make sure the other man arrived home safely. This wasn’t an attempt to find out where Kip was living now, he told himself, it was simply what any decent person would do.

Scott’s frown grew as another, unknown man stepped out of the venue only a few seconds later. The man was tall, roughly Scott’s height, with dirty blonde hair and wearing dirty work clothing. He wasn’t remarkable, more fat then muscle and normally Scott wouldn’t have given him a second glance. Except for the fact that the guy had been the one Scott had spied in the background of the photo Maria had posted, talking to Kip and more to the point, had his eyes firmly fixed on Kip’s retreating back, not even taking a cursory glance, a pretense of having his attention elsewhere.

The fact that the man even flattened himself against a wall when Kip happened to glance over his shoulder told Scott all he needed to know.

Scott knew a predator when he saw one. And Kip was in this one's sights.

Scott didn’t think as he slipped out of the shadows, ducking his head and shoving his hands deep into his pocket. Unassuming. The gloves in his pockets were quickly slipped on his hands. He hoped he wouldn’t need them, that he was mistaken in his reading of the situation but he wasn’t going to take any chances.

Staying on the opposite side of the road where he was less noticeable, Scott followed, watching both Kip and the unknown man. He was a distance away but he could tell from Kip’s body language that he was on edge. The way he kept glancing over his shoulder made Scott wonder if the man knew he was being followed. And yet he was sluggish in a way that didn’t make sense. Kip wasn’t a fool. Something else was wrong. Thankfully, the unknown stalker didn’t seem to feel the same sense of unease. He didn’t ever take his eyes off Kip’s retreating back. Didn’t notice Scott watching.

Then Kip was gone, dashing into the shadows of an alleyway and disappearing from view. The guy’s causal pace sped up, the other man also disappearing from view.

Scott didn’t hesitate, sprinting across the road to catch up. Every second Kip was out of his sight was a second he could be hurt.

As he reached the mouth of the alleyway, Scott’s blood ran cold as he heard someone shout “Get off me!”

It was Kip’s voice. Scott would know it anywhere. Rounding the alleyway, Scott was greeted by a horrific sight. Kip’s attacker had the man pressed up against the rough brick wall, his hand on Kip’s head, and grinding his face into the rough surface. Kip was struggling in his grip, trying to escape but the man was using his height and weight to pin Kip down. The man's front was pressed against Kip’s back and Scott could see his free hand was drifting downwards, grabbing at Kip’s pants.

Kip tried to struggle out of his grip and the man responded, using the hand already on Kip’s head to drive it hard into the brick. Kip sagged, stunned from the impact.

Scott didn’t hesitate. He rushed forward.

The man, so focused on holding Kip down, didn’t see Scott coming until his hands were already on him. Scott grabbed the man’s chin in one hand, the top of his head in the other and then he jerked his hands back.

There was a loud ‘snap’

—---

To say the night had gone the way Kip had expected would be a lie. It was supposed to be a good night out with his friends. Something they had done often over the years, but which had gone to the wayside recently as everyone pretended to be adults.

Shawn in particular, had been begging for them all to go out. No one in their friendship group had been dating for a while and yet, their catch ups had been infrequent. Scott’s Grad School work had been kicking his ass and Kyle had been equally stressed with his own school work so a night out, just to relax and have fun had sounded good. Maria and Elena had also been in so it was shaping up to be a good night.

They had all vetoed going to the Kingfisher. Kyle didn’t feel like partying in his workplace and neither did Kip, now that he had started picking up semi-regular shifts there. Maria had suggested this nightclub and well, it had sounded good at the time.

Kip had tried not to think about how close it was to Scott’s apartment.

He hadn’t seen the guy since their breakup. Well, that wasn’t true exactly. He had seen Scott on the TV. He had been up at ridiculous hours to watch the Sochi Olympics and cheered when Team USA had brought home the gold. He had groaned when he watched the game when Scott went down with an injury and felt sad when he learnt Scott would be off the ice for the majority of the season.

But he hadn’t seen Scott in person and that made all the difference.

Kip tried not to miss the other man. He knew he had made the right call, walking out of Scott’s apartment that night. They just weren’t on the same page and not just about Scott being in the closet. Yes, that was an issue, but Kip had been prepared to wait it out. He understood and Scott was worth the wait. He was right that a few years was nothing in the span of a life together.

No, Kip had left because he had the unshakable feeling that he was becoming a prisoner in the relationship. Scott hadn’t made him cut contact with his friends and family. Hell, he encouraged Kip to go out with his friends and see his dad. And yet, every time Kip left, he felt like Scott was weighing up something in his mind. Like this time may be the last time and the next time Kip tried to leave, he wouldn’t be able to.

Scott had some demons inside him and Kip wasn’t certain he would ever truly understand them. He loved Scott. More than anyone else he had ever met. No other relationship had ever been close. But Scott was intense, dominating and possessive. Something about him screamed ‘unsafe’.

Still, Kip missed him. He had no doubts that if Scott did ask him to come back. Kip would. He was even courting danger by still texting Scott. Thankfully, Scott hadn’t asked.

Kip had tried to play it off that he didn’t care. Hell, Scott could have started another relationship with someone else. Kip hadn’t asked because it wasn’t his place.

He tried to move on. Tried to date other men. But nothing had worked. No one had ‘clicked’ with Kip like Scott had. So only a few weeks after breaking things up with Scott, Kip had given up on dating. His Masters work was taking up a majority of his time and when he wasn’t studying, he was trying to work as much as he could and save money. Dating was so far down on his list of priorities that it was practically non-existent.

The few men he had met had just been casual hookups. Nothing serious. And Kip found himself actually missing the intensity Scott had brought to the bedroom. The way he had to be in charge, no matter what they were doing. Even when Kip was fucking him. It had been thrilling and Kip missed it.

Still, his friends, being the great group of people they were, wanted to help him out. Kyle knew all the best places to go to meet men and Shawn was almost desperate to go out. The girls too, had been keen to party on the rare night they were all free. So out they went.

The night had started out good, the five of them hanging out and laughing. Kip hadn’t been interested in drinking but Maria talked him into having one beer. Kyle had quickly disappeared with some random older guy, which had made them laugh. Then Shawn had peeled off, locating a friend of his from one of his many jobs.

Elena and Maria had wanted to dance so Kip had followed. He hadn’t danced but he had kept an eye on the girls. Which was when the guy had approached. He was tall, a dirty blonde who had introduced himself as ‘Chet’ and had made it clear he was interested, trying to talk Kip into going into the bathroom with him. Kip had tried to be polite at first, even accepting the shot the guy had bought him but Chet had been insistent and Kip had become not so polite. He didn’t want a dirty bathroom hookup.

Eventually, he had staged an escape when Chet had headed back to the bar, saying he was getting them another drink. The girls could handle themselves just fine without him and he wasn’t feeling comfortable anymore.

Once he was outside, Kip had tried to think but he was starting to feel a bit off. Not sick exactly, but like he was extremely drunk. Which couldn’t be. He had only had one beer….and the shot Chet had pressured him into.

Shit, had the guy done something to him? If so, Kip needed to get the hell out of there. And yet he felt sluggish, like his brain wasn’t working. Turning, Kip put his whole focus on walking straight, trying to put distance between himself and the bar, even as he had the uncanny feeling someone was following him.

He knew he had made a mistake when he tried to get off the main street, ducking down an alleyway. Sober, he would never have done such a thing. Hell, sober Kip would never have left the crowd out front of the club. He would have stayed there and waited for his friends. But he knew now he wasn’t sober. And he was about to pay the price for it.

The hit had come out of nowhere, the other body crashing into his own and sending him into the wall. Kip had tried to struggle, tried to shout but his body felt heavy and slow and the body pressed against him was huge and strong. His head was shoved hard against the bricks, stunning him.

And then the body was gone and there was a sharp ‘crack’ behind him. Another pair of hands grabbed him but this time, they weren’t aggressive. Instead, they felt gentle.

“Kip? Kip, look at me.” A voice said.

Kip blinked, trying to focus as the hands gently guided him to sit down. A hand reached up caressed his jaw. Finally, the face came into focus. One he hadn’t seen except on a TV screen for over a year.

“Scott?” He asked. His voice sounded strange, slurred.

“You’re ok. You’re ok. I’m gonna get you out of here.” Scott said. The hand left his jaw, brushing gently over a spot on his forehead which ached. Then Kip felt the hand hook under his arm and raised him to his unsteady feet. Kip felt his head drop as the world spun around him, his eyes falling on something crumpled on the ground. It looked like a sleeping figure.

The hand under his arm was now around his waist, his own arm placed over Scott’s shoulders. And then they were walking out of the alleyway together.

Time seemed to move differently. One moment, he was being all but dragged through the street, Scott using his considerable size and strength to guide him and the next, Kip felt himself being lowered onto a comfortable surface, a bottle of something pressed to his lips and a freezing pressure placed against his face.

Cringing at the ache which was becoming worse and worse, Kip tried to push whatever it was away when he heard Scott say “It will help.”

A warm pair of arms wrapped around him, comforting despite the freezing feeling. Eventually, Kip stopped fighting. It felt like his whole body was falling into darkness and he couldn’t stop it. But the warm arms were still there. Safe.

—--

Scott had never killed someone out in the open before. He had never been so reckless. But it was Kip and Kip was about to be assaulted but this vermin. Of course, Scott was going to do something rash.

The feeling of the attacker's neck breaking under his hands should have been cathartic but Scott barely paid attention, throwing the still convulsing body to the side as Kip slumped down, his body no longer held up by his attacker's weight.

“Kip?” Scott called as Kip’s unfocused eyes glanced at his surroundings. “Kip. Look at me.” Reaching over, he cupped Kip’s jaw, gently turning his face so Scott could see him better in the dim light.

“Scott?” The man muttered, his voice soft and slurred.

There was a red mark on the side of his face, a few lacerations on his forehead not yet bleeding but Scott could see droplets of blood starting to form. His pupils were blown. Not one, which might suggest a concussion but both.

Shit. This didn’t look like alcohol. If Scott was a betting man, he would guess Kip was drugged. A brief flash of anger rushed through him at the thought that the piece of trash rapist may have spiked Kip but he pushed the feeling away. The fucker was dead but his body was right there and they couldn’t be found anywhere near it.

“You’re ok. You’re ok. I’m gonna get you out of here.” He said, trying to reassure Kip as best he could. He allowed his gloved hand to reach upwards, gently brushing a little bit of dust out of the open wound before he reached down and hooked his arm under Kip's, pulling him to his feet. He had to get Kip to safety and safety was his own apartment.

Once he had Kip back on his feet, he wrapped an arm around Kip’s waist. It would be much easier to simply sweep Kip off his feet, but despite the late hour, there were still people in the streets, and he didn’t want to draw attention to them. Carrying a semi-conscious man in a bridal carry would be an easy way to become memorable and that was the last thing he wanted to do near a body.

Thankfully, Kip seemed to understand what was needed of him. Although he struggled, he was able to get his feet moving, even if almost his whole weight was in Scott’s arms.

Pulling Kip out of the alleyway, Scott quickly scanned the street. He couldn’t see any cameras which would work in his favor.

Carefully avoiding the bar Kip had come out of, Scott made his way back to his apartment, only allowing himself to relax when he was finally pushing open the door and pulling the other man inside his safe space.

Once inside, Scott placed Kip, still out of it, on the couch. Briefly he had thought about taking Kip to his bed but had decided against it. If Kip had any awareness of what that guy had tried to do to him, waking up in a bedroom could scare him. The couch on the other hand, was a safe place. They had both spent a lot of time on it together.

Then he got to work. If Kip had been drugged, he would need to be constantly checked on and even if he hadn’t, Scott wasn’t willing to let the other man out of his sight for any longer than needed. Dashing to the bathroom, he quickly snagged the extensive first aid kit. Then he ducked into the kitchen, grabbing an ice pack from the freezer and a bottle of water.

So soon as he had his goods, he was back at Kip’s side, carefully cleaning the scratches and pressing Kip to drink the water. The red mark on the side of Kip’s head looked like it was going to turn into a bruise, so Scott gently applied the ice pack, muttering reassurances when Kip tried to pull away. Once Kip relaxed again, Scott pulled off his coat and shoes and slid behind him on the couch, wrapping his arms around the smaller man, caging him against his chest. Kip had come so close to being broken by that disgusting man and Scott swore to himself, it would not happen again.

Kip was his.

Chapter End Notes

I think this story maybe has one more chapter in it. Obviously, this chapter followed the few years of separation between Scott and Kip, and we still have the 2016-2017 Stanely Cup run left. So, I will probably cover that if I add another chapter here. Or I could just leave it here.

And I am not going to lie, I did briefly consider the idea that all the GC Hockey Gays are serial killers (except Shane. My neuro-divergent King couldn't harm a fly) I already mentioned Eric Bennett being a pedo hunter and Troy Barrett could definitely be that level of psycho. Ilya, not to be basic, can easily give of Mafia vibes and Ryan Price has that whole gentle giant turned savage bear vibe. So if anyone else wants to play in this sandbox, I humbly offer up an idea.

Chapter 3

Chapter Summary

“So… If I had tried to leave, back on that first night, would you have killed me?” Kip finally asked after Scott’s rambling explanation came to a close.

Scott glanced down at his hands. He didn’t want to look at Kip right now, but he owed the man the truth.

“Yes.” He said simply.

Chapter Notes

Just some explicit sex and slight hints of Stockholm Syndrome for the girlies before Scott wins his man.

(And because it seems to be a common accusation flying around at the moment, fuck AI. I will never use that shit. Instead, I write the old-fashioned way, by letting the spirit of Shakespeare possess me and then trying to traumatise him before he escapes, or traumatises me back)

It felt like he had only blinked, Scott opening his eyes to the gentle light of morning. For a moment, he lay still, confused by the light and the warm weight against his chest.

Then the memories came back to him. Of going to the bar to try and see Kip, of watching as the other man was stalked by a predator. Of snapping that man's neck and bringing Kip home to safety.

Glancing down, he was relieved to see dark curls resting against his chest. Kip was still asleep, safe in his arms. From the way Kip was resting his head, Scott could see the purple bruising that had formed on the side of his face. An unpleasant reminder of what had happened.

A deep anger filled Scott and briefly, he wished Kip’s attacker was still alive, that Scott hadn’t dispatched him so quickly. The guy deserved to suffer for what he had done. But then Scott pushed the feeling away. What was done was done and there was no point in thinking about it now. Instead, he needed to focus on Kip’s welfare.

Which, first and foremost, meant food.

Thankfully, the couch was within line of sight of the kitchen so slowly, Scott extracted himself from under Kip’s unconscious body. Although Kip was once again in his home, they weren’t back together, no matter how much he wished it, and Scott knew he had no right to touch the other man. However, he did take a moment to press a gentle kiss to the top of Kip’s head. It was all he was going to allow.

Once free, Scott made his way to the kitchen.

He still wasn’t a cook by any means of the word, but he could manage a little breakfast. Deciding on oatmeal, he grabbed some oats and threw them into a pan, setting them up on the stove to heat up. He was just contemplating what to add to the oats (He had some fresh Canadian maple syrup in his cupboard. Scott would never use the fake stuff given the fact that he played a sport popular with a lot of Canadians and didn’t want the whole hockey world baying for his blood. He also had his regular selection of fruits to pick from) when he heard a groan from the couch.

Scott practically threw himself away from the burner, turning to see Kip slowly rise to sit up.

“Fuck.” He heard Kip mutter as he rounded the island counter and made his way to the couch, the other man dropping his head to rest in his hands. That proved to be a bad idea, and Scott was close enough to see Kip flinch as he accidently pressed on the bruising.

Then he heard Kip take a quick inhale, his head shooting up in panic, remembering at least part of what had happened the night before.

“Hey.” Scott said softly, hoping not to startle him as Kip looked around wildly, panic in his eyes. He watched as Kip took the apartment in before fixing on him. And he was relieved to see the tension in Kip’s shoulders drop as he registered where he was and that he was safe.

Kip frowned.

“Scott?” He said. His voice was soft, a little rough but it was still music to Scott’s ears.

“How are you feeling?” Scott asked. It was a stupid question but the only one Scott could think of.

“I shouldn’t be here.” The man replied and Scott tried not to flinch. But Kip continued, frown deepening as if he was trying to piece together a difficult puzzle by speaking it aloud. “I was at a bar with everyone. We had some drinks. That guy gave me a shot. I didn’t want it, but I couldn’t get him to leave me alone. I wasn’t feeling good after drinking it and wanted to go but he wouldn’t let me and then ....” Kip’s voice petered off into silence, his eyes widening and his face going pale. Scott knew Kip now remembered exactly what had happened. At least the majority of it.

“Hey!” Scott said, trying to pull Kip out of his unpleasant thoughts. He couldn’t help himself as he rounded the couch and knelt down, grabbing both of Kip’s hands, hoping to ground him. “Kip, you are safe. He didn’t manage to do anything to you. I got him before he could. No one touched you, I swear.”

“I am so fucking stupid.” Kip muttered to himself. “So stupid.”

“No.” Scott said, tightening his grip on Kip’s hands. “You are not stupid. You were kind and he took advantage of that. That’s not the same thing.”

Kip was staring at the ground, still looking pale so Scott released one of his hands and reached over, lifting his chin up, meeting his eyes, hoping that Kip believed what he was saying. He couldn’t help but run his thumb gently against the edge of the bruise which was still forming. Scott should probably get Kip another ice pack for that.

Kip stared at him for a long moment.

“You pulled him off me. He wasn’t moving.” There was another long pause before Kip asked. “What did you do to him?”

Of course Kip would immediately think of the welfare of his attacker, instead of focusing on how close a call it had been. Scott didn’t know how to answer that question. Didn’t want Kip to pity a rapist. Didn’t want him to even think about the guy so he tried to deflect. He let go of Kip’s cheek and rose to his feet.

“Come on. You need to eat something.” He said. He was still gripping Kip’s hand in his own and Kip didn’t pull away so he carefully dragged the man up and guided him over to the kitchen counter, pushing him down to sit at the island.

Unfortunately, the oatmeal didn’t wait for him, the goop bubbling over and burning. Scott swore and grabbed the pot, dumping it into the sink. Sighing, he decided to start over.

The silence from Kip was starting to become overwhelming as Scott worked so to fill it, he began to talk.

“I did some googling about roofies. You might be feeling hungover so I thought oatmeal will be easier to handle for now. Let me know if you need painkillers or want anything else.” He said as he grabbed another bottle of water out of the fridge. The seal was still on so Kip would know it was safe to drink.

He glanced over at Kip who hadn’t moved from where he was now hunched over the counter, the uninjured side of his face pressed into his palm. Whatever he was thinking, it was clear Kip was struggling with deep thoughts. Scott placed the water near his hand, hoping Kip would take it. He needed to hydrate.

“You can stay here as long as you want but if you want to head home, I can call a car and have it drop you off. Do you have someone who can stay with you? You probably shouldn’t be alone.” He offered.

Finally, Kip seemed to wake from whatever daze he was in as he looked up at Scott. He was still pale, but his eyes were focused, his mouth pressed into a thin line.

“Did you kill him?” He finally said. Scott hadn’t been sure if Kip was aware enough at the time to remember what had happened, but it looked like that question was now answered. He wished Kip had not had to see that. Had not been awake enough to understand. As much as Scott knew Kip was in danger around him, he still wished for Kip to have a good opinion of him. But what could he do now? He was caught.

Scott forced himself not to react to the question. Instead, he turned to the stove and shifted the new batch of oatmeal off the burner (he wasn’t going to waste it a second time) before turning around. Grabbing a towel, he pretended to dry off his hands. It gave him something to hold so he wasn’t wringing his hands with nerves. This was only the second time he had ever had this conversation and unlike Benny, he was certain Kip wasn’t also secretly a killer.

“I did.” Scott said when he couldn’t take the silence anymore. He hoped his tone was light, trying to show it was no big deal. He realised too late, that was a mistake. It made him look comfortable with the murder.

“Why?” Kip asked.

Scott frowned. Did Kip really ask why Scott had murdered an attempted rapist who had deliberately drugged and assaulted him?

“Because he hurt you.” He said as if it was obvious.

Kip bit at his lip and Scott could see he was thinking hard, or as hard as he could with a roofie induced hangover.

Finally, he glanced up again.

“He wasn’t the only one, was he?” He asked.

Scott knew he should deny it. Should lie but Kip knew him well. Could read him like a book and besides, Scott didn’t want to lie anymore. He hated all these secrets he kept. Hated how no one knew who he truly was. Kip had already seen a part of him he had never shared with anyone else before all this had blown up. And now …now, Kip had seen the rest. And Scott couldn’t help but feel relieved.

“No.” Scott said simply and braced for whatever would happen next. Maybe Kip would panic and try to flee. He wouldn’t hold it against him if he did. And maybe Scott would give chase, stop him and finally end this. Or maybe he would let Kip go, let Kip run to the police.

If he did and officers came knocking at Scott’s door, he wouldn’t deny it. He was done. Too many people had been hurt. Yes, some had deserved it, but most hadn’t. No more innocents should die.

After a moment, he heard Kip release a breath.

“Those fucking quiz’s.” He muttered. “So inaccurate.”

Scott glanced up at Kip who was looking at him.

“So what now? Do you kill me too?” The younger man asked.

Scott found he was already shaking his head before the words had fully processed in his mind.

“I don’t think I can.” He replied honestly.

There was another silence before Kip let out a little pained groan.

“I feel too hungover to process this right now.”

Scott nodded.

“You can rest here for a bit. The guest room is still free, and it has a lock if that makes you feel more comfortable, but I won’t hold it against you if you don’t want to stay.” He said.

Scott turned back to the stove. If Kip wanted to leave, Scott didn’t want to see him reach that decision. Not again. Still, it felt like his whole body was focused on the other man. He could hear Kip’s soft breathing, hear the grating screech as the legs of the chair Kip was sitting on were pushed back. Heard the footsteps drawing near. Finally, Scott turned and as soon as he did, Kip pressed himself to Scott’s side.

Dropping the towel, Scott wrapped his arms around Kip’s body, enjoying this unexpected hug from the other man.

“I’m going to lie down now. In your bed. We can talk later but you are welcome to join me when you are done here.” Kip said, voice muffled a little against Scott’s shirt.

Then he pulled himself out of Scott’s arms and turned, grabbing the bottle of water and heading in the direction of Scott’s bedroom.

Scott was proud of himself. He didn’t abandon the oatmeal for the second time. He finished cooking it and even managed to eat some and clean up and store the rest for later before he finally turned to the bedroom.

The door was partly opened and even from the hallway, Scott could see Kip curled up on the bed, fast asleep. Scott hadn’t managed to get Kip into more comfortable clothing when he had first brought him back to the apartment, but it seemed his ex was happy to fall back into old habits, his jeans and jacket in a pile on the edge of the bed. Which meant under the covers, Kip was only wearing his t-shirt and underwear. Scott felt his cock stir at that realisation but he pointedly ignored it, instead checking the rest of the room.

Kip had placed his phone on the bedside table closest to the door, the side of the bed he had always used. It sat, along with the bottle of water, now empty and what looked like an empty blister packet of painkillers.

As quietly as possible, Scott entered the room and closed the door. He wasn’t tired but the offer of laying with Kip on the bed they had shared for their whole relationship was too good to ignore.

Stripping down to his own t-shirt and underwear, Scott grabbed his phone from his pocket and placed it on the bedside table on his side of the bed next to the book he had been reading. Then he slipped under the covers and propped himself up against the headboard.

Firstly, he needed to organise his day. Although the season was almost over, Scott still had a team meeting, followed by an interview with a local sports commentator talking about the plans for the next season but there was no way he was leaving Kip alone. Not when he wasn’t sure what the man was thinking. So instead of getting ready, he sent a text to Murdock, telling his Coach he was ill and asking him to pass it along to his manager to reschedule the interview. It was a lie, but Scott so rarely called out sick to practice, that he knew his coach wouldn’t challenge him. Then he grabbed the book and settled in to read until Kip woke up again.

Not that he could focus on the words. Kip was so close, within reach for the first time in so long and his quiet presence was not helping cool Scott’s arousal. Nor did it help that Kip tended to gravitate towards warmth in his sleep.

Kip had actually apologised for it, early on in their relationship, explaining that he ran cool so would unconsciously seek warmth. Scott had tried to stop him from feeling bad about it. As far as Scott was concerned, having a gorgeous man snuggle up to him at night was never going to be unwelcome.

As if hearing his thoughts, Scott saw Kip start to shift in his sleep, drawing closer. Eventually, he settled again, his body pressed up against Scott's. Unfortunately for Scott, since he was seated, that put Kip’s face dangerously close to Scott’s crotch, his hand resting on Scott’s thigh.

The older man had to choke down a moan, his mind immediately filling with all the things Kip could and had done down there before. His cock twitched with interest. But no, Scott could not allow himself to think about that.

Firstly, because he and Kip weren’t together, even if Kip was currently in his bed. Secondly, Scott had no idea where Kip’s head was at. Both of them knew exactly what that guy would have done if Scott hadn’t intervened and he wouldn't be surprised if, even if Kip wanted to stay, he would be a little skittish about someone touching him. And most importantly, the vivid dream of killing Kip still haunted Scott. The image had been seared into his mind ever since Sochi and the string of victims left in his wake which looked remarkably like the man were proof of that. Scott had no idea, if he did get to fuck Kip again, if he could keep his promise and stop himself from doing anything to him.

Now if only his dick would listen to his head about this, that would be nice. And if Kip’s hand hadn’t happened to shift again until it was pressing against his crotch.

Scott was trying to stay as still as possible, to stop himself from rubbing his hips against the hand, so it took him a moment to realise that Kip’s thumb was moving gently along the seam of his shorts.

Dropping the book, he glanced down at the curly hair on the bed.

“Are you awake?” He asked, soft voice, just on the off-chance Kip was still asleep. The hand stopped moving, but the curly head nodded.

Scott was about to ask how Kip was feeling when he felt Kip’s hand move again, bolder this time, reaching up to the waistband.

Quickly, Scott reached down to still Kip’s hand before he managed to slip inside his shorts. As much as he was very ok with what Kip was doing, he was not willing to let the man do something he might regret. For all Scott knew, Kip might think he needed to repay him for saving him and Scott didn’t want the other man to think that he owed him anything.

“You don’t have to.” He said, keeping a tight grip on Kip’s wrist.

Kip shifted next to him, raising his head to meet Scott’s gaze. He looked far more alert than he had before.

“I don’t mind.” Kip replied.

Scott couldn't stop the groan from that. Because he wanted it too. But he needed to be certain. Their entire previous relationship had been about consent.

“I do.” Scott gritted out.

Threading his fingers through Kip’s curls, he tugged the other man's head away from his crotch. Kip looked a little stunned but didn’t fight, pulling his head out of Scott’s grip. Their eyes met.

“Fuck. I overstepped.” Kip said finally. “You already have someone, don’t you?” And Scott blinked. Because, what? After everything, after all he had revealed, Kip thought Scott was seeing someone else?

Kip was already trying to rise from the bed but Scott wasn’t going to let him go without talking to him. He had let Kip go once already.

“No!” Scott said, his voice firm as he grabbed Kip’s arm and dragged him back down onto the bed. Kip’s eyes went wide, a flash of fear in them. Seeing that was like a slap in the face, Scott realising how harsh he sounded. Pushing down the frustration he felt, he tried again, voice softer this time.

“No. There is no one. It’s not an overstep.” He explained.

Kip was still silent. He looked skittish and Scott couldn’t fault him for it. He was giving a lot of mixed signals. Kip knew he was a murderer and was probably wondering what Scott planned to do to him now, since he had rejected his sexual advances.

Releasing his tight grip on Kip’s arm, he rubbed at the red mark he had left there.

“I mean, I don’t want you to feel you have to do anything. You don’t owe me anything Kip. If you want to walk out that door right now and not look back, you can. I won’t harm you; I won’t follow you. You are safe. Please trust me.”

Kip stared at him for a long moment.

“I want to.” He finally said in a whisper. “I really do.”

It was better than Scott could have hoped for. Kip may not trust him, but he wasn’t running. He wanted to trust Scott. The man couldn’t help it, he reached over and cupped Kip’s face in his hand, running his thumb gently across the bruise again.

“I missed you so much.” He muttered.

He didn’t stop Kip as the man moved forward and pressed their lips together. It was gentle at first, like a first kiss, which, maybe it was in a way. But neither of them were novices at this and quickly, the kiss deepened.

Then Kip pulled away. But instead of retreating, he started littering small kisses down Scott’s neck.

“I want to do this.” The man muttered between kisses. Scott could do nothing but nod in agreement at that, pressing himself back against the headboard as Kip made his way down his body, pushing Scott’s t-shirt up and kicking the blanket away. Again, his hand travelled to the waistband of Scott’s shorts. This time, he didn’t stop Kip as the man pulled the material down and out of the way. Scott’s cock, fully hard, sprang out, pressing against his abs.

Scott fought down a moan as the other man wrapped his hand around his cock, giving it a gentle squeeze. But he couldn’t fight it anymore as Kip leant down and mouthed at the head before engulfing it in his mouth.

Scott knew from prior experience that Kip was very good at oral sex. Scott was a big guy, and his dick was as large as the rest of him, but Kip had never shied away from him because of it. Hell, even before he had become fully comfortable deep throating Scott, he had been enthusiastic.

Now, as Kip lowered himself down onto Scott’s cock, it was like coming home. Even that moment, when he felt his dick hit the back of Kip’s mouth before the man pushed forward, taking him into his throat, was so familiar.

Scott couldn’t help it, he grabbed at Kip’s hair, threading his fingers through the dark curls as Kip set a fast pace. Not to push Kip down but to ground himself. Normally he could take control. Would direct Kip’s movements but not this time. This time, he wanted Kip to have control.

His orgasm came quickly and when it did, it was overwhelming. It had been a long time since Scott had gotten off with anything other than his hand and Kip’s mouth was heaven, the man’s throat muscles massaging him in a way that was indescribable as he bobbed his head up and down.

Without meaning to, Scott found his hand tightening on Kip’s hair, holding him down as he emptied himself inside his ex’s mouth.

“Fuck.” he finally muttered, trying to catch his breath as he finally started to come down. Quickly, he forced himself to release his grip on Kip’s hair, not wanting to suffocate the man.

Kip was breathing hard as he finally rose, his lips red and wet, his eyes a little unfocused.

Scott couldn’t help it, he pulled Kip back up to rest on his chest and kissed him again, tasting a hint of himself on Kip’s tongue. Once Kip’s body was pressed against his, Scott could feel Kip’s own hard cock against his hip. Reaching down, he grabbed the other man’s hips and urged him to straddle his waist. Then, he reached down and took Kip’s cock in his hand, gently stroking it until Kip was cumming on his hand, letting out small whimpers and groans.

Then Kip slumped forward against Scott, boneless and spent. Scott wrapped his arms around the man. He had missed this moment, possibly more than any other. The calm after, when they were both coming down and could just relax in each other's company.

Scott knew there was a conversation coming. That they couldn’t just ignore everything by having sex. But he was going to hold onto this moment for as long as he could.

He didn’t even realise that, for the first time, his mind was not going to what came next, to the possibility that Kip would try to run. The voice inside, always demanding blood, was silent. And Scott basked in that silence.

—--

Finally, they did have the conversation. Like just about every serious conversation in their relationship, this one took place back in the kitchen.

Scott had managed to delay as much as he could. He checked in on Kip, made sure the hangover had passed and he wasn’t suffering any other effects of the drugging. He made sure Kip drank another bottle of water and ate something. The remaining oatmeal had looked unappealing, so Kip had opted for some fruit.

He made sure that Kip had some fresh clothing to wear (One of Scott’s own t-shirts. Kip had left a few items of clothing buried in Scott’s closet when he had walked out but Scott was not going to pass off the opportunity to see Kip in an old Admirals t-shirt. Nor was he going to risk Kip asking for his clothing back) and his cum stained t-shirt was thrown into the washing machine.

Finally, Kip had pushed aside the empty plate and Scott knew he could no longer delay. Sitting at the counter, keeping a comfortable distance away (Comfortable for Kip. Scott would prefer to have the man in his arms) Scott braced himself for whatever would come.

Kip had not pulled his punches, immediately asking Scott how many people he had killed, who were they and why did he do it.

Scott had tried to explain. Tried to get the man to understand the complex feelings that went into this. How he had never meant for it to happen. He had just…. lost control. Kip, to be fair to him, listened, even if he didn’t understand it. Even as Scott could practically feel the nerves radiating off the man.

“So… If I had tried to leave, back on that first night, would you have killed me?” He finally asked after Scott’s rambling explanation came to a close.

Scott glanced down at his hands. He didn’t want to look at Kip right now, but he owed the man the truth.

“Yes.” He said simply. He could remember it so well, planning in his head how he was going to dispatch Kip for the crime of not staying.

Kip nodded, biting at his lip.

“Ok.” He muttered to himself, more than Scott.

“It’s not like that anymore.” Scott stated. “This whole thing started because I wanted to protect myself. I wanted to hide and you were a risk. But I’m not going to hide anymore.”

Kip glanced at him, brows furrowing.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

Scott shrugged, trying to appear relaxed even though he was tense. He had been thinking this in his head for a while now but never actually said it aloud.

“I’m going to come out publicly.” He said. “Going to give myself one more season and then announce it.”

“Why one more season?” Kip asked. His voice was soft, not angry. He didn’t press. Didn’t say that Scott should come out right now, which Scott could admit, would be logical. Scott had just confessed that part of the reason he murdered people was to hide his sexuality. Coming out sooner would take that reason away and possibly save lives.

“I want to give myself one more season as just Scott Hunter. Once I come out, I will become ‘That Gay hockey player’. No matter what I do after that, even if I win the Stanley Cup or the Conn Smythe or the Hart Trophy, even if I get another Olympic Gold Medal, I will be the Gay Hockey Player. That is, if I am even allowed to play Hockey after coming out.”

Kip’s frown grew.

“I think it would be illegal for them to fire you for being gay.” He said.

“Probably. But I wouldn’t put it past Crowell to try and force me out anyway.” Scott replied.

Kip nodded

“And once you come out, there will be no reason to kill anyone anymore.” He muttered.

“Yes.” Scott said. Because it was the truth, sort of. Until the night before, he had never killed anyone he hadn’t slept with. Hadn’t killed anyone unless they could run to the media and out him. Hadn’t killed anyone who could hurt him by leaving him alone, like his parents had.

Last night he had become a different beast. He had killed, not because the victim was a danger to him, but because Kip was in trouble. Scott could promise that once he was out, he wouldn’t kill anyone to hide his sexuality. But he couldn’t promise he wouldn’t do it, if he was protecting Kip.

Kip glanced down at the table, fiddling with a fork. He bit at his lip. Then he placed the fork down and looked back up at Scott, a look of resolve on his face.

“Ok. So, you are going to have one more season as Scott Hunter, Hockey Player. Until then, I think we need to work on getting rid of Scott Hunter, Serial Killer.” He said.

Scott didn’t miss the tone. Nor did he miss a specific word Kip used.

“We?” He asked, trying to force down the excitement. He couldn’t get his hopes up like this. He had made this mess, and Kip didn’t deserve to get dragged into it. Not when it was going to be dangerous for him.

Kip met his eyes and there was a look of determination on his face.

“Yes. I want to help you.” He said.

“It might be dangerous for you to stay.” Scott pointed out. Because as much as he wanted Kip back, he needed the other man to know the risks. Scott was going to try and break a fundamental part of himself, and he had no idea what damage he could do if it went wrong. Or if somehow, he was discovered and Kip was implicated.

“I spent months in your bed, and you never hurt me. Never made me feel unsafe. Those other guys, they all left and that’s why you did it. If I promise to stay until you come out, do you think it would help?”

Scott swallowed hard. Because, yes, he did think it would help. But he didn’t want Kip to feel like he had to do anything he didn’t want to do. Kip leaving again could trigger the monster, but knowing Kip was staying, not because he wanted to but because of some martyrdom, knowing the man could grow to resent him instead of love him….well, that could kill them both.

“Kip, I don’t want you to think you have to do this. You are not a prisoner or a hostage.” Scott protested.

He expected Kip to recoil. But instead, the man reached over and placed his hand against Scott’s cheek.

“I know.” He said. “But the thing is, I don’t think I ever got over you. Even after almost two years, I still can’t get past you. And despite all this, I don’t know if I want to.”

Scott stared at him for a long moment as Kip’s thumb stroked the strong bone of his cheek. He was not a fool. He knew how much Kip was giving up, being with him.

“So what do you think? Do you want to give this a try?” Kip asked. He sounded almost shy this time.

Scott couldn’t stop the soft smile at that. Because Kip was offering him the world and he would be a fool, not to take it. Instead of saying anything, he leant forward, capturing Kip’s lips against his own.

—---

The plan was simple. Scott was going to come out, and Kip was going to be with him until he did. Scott tried not to think about the time limit the other man had put on their relationship, the implication that once Scott came out, Kip could leave him again. The voices in his head kept telling him that Kip was only doing this as some sort of punishment, that the man didn’t really want to be with him and was just trying to keep him from killing again, trying to control the Monster but he pointedly ignored it.

Instead, Scott tried to see it as a challenge. He had the Hockey season to win Kip over completely and make this a forever thing between them and he was going to fight for it.

Initially, he had planned to come out to everyone at the end of the 2017 season and until then, keep everything a secret. But that wasn’t feasible. Scott knew he needed to create his safety net, to find out who his allies were in case his announcement went badly. Scott didn’t think his closest friends would reject him, but he wasn’t certain about the rest of the team, and it was better to introduce the idea slowly than spring it on everyone and risk anger and rejection.

He also needed to show Kip he was all in on this. He was willing to fight for them. And he had to give Kip the time to fully fall in love with him.

So after talking it over (Well, not his fears Kip was only doing this to control him), they decided for a ‘soft launch’ as Kip called it.

And that meant being seen in public together. Maybe not as lovers yet, but as friends. After their failed gallery date, they were both aware of how badly throwing themselves out there could go, so they started off small.

A few days after their original conversation, once Kip had recovered from the attack, they went on their first ‘secret’ date. The Admirals last game of the season had been played the night before and normally; Scott would be preparing for his annual overseas trip. But that plan had been cancelled in favor of spending more time with Kip.

The date was simple. They decided to go for a run together around Central Park. A normal activity, which was not unusual for either of them. And more to the point, they were less likely to be disturbed by fans.

Scott had enjoyed it immensely. He hadn’t gone at his usual breakneck speed, instead keeping a more reasonable pace which allowed them to talk while they ran.

Only once they had finished and were catching their breath did Scott get approached and Kip stepped back, allowing the fans to speak to Scott. No one had even batted an eye at the mysterious guy running with Scott.

After they got home, Scott had felt so good about the date, he had immediately pulled Kip into the bedroom and blown the other man's mind.

That running date was followed by more and Scott found himself enjoying being out and about, exercising with his boyfriend. Sometimes, they were ignored and sometimes they were approached but no one questioned Kip’s presence by Scott’s side. Well, apart from a few people on social media who had noticed in a compilation of pictures that Scott Hunter was running with the same guy, but the consensus was Kip was some sort of personal trainer, and no one questioned it further.

Soon Scott was feeling bolder, which led to coffee dates and eventually a lunch date. Occasionally they were approached on these trips and yet, no one batted an eye at Kip’s presence. Or seemed to suspect anything.

Once the season started, it was time for Scott to begin laying down the foundations of his announcement. And the first person to speak to was Todd, his agent.

Todd had been at Scott’s side for most of his professional career and knew him better than just about anyone else. Still, the man was taken by surprise when Scott had arranged a meeting and came out to him.

Thankfully, after asking Scott if he was certain he wanted to come out, the man’s mind had turned to how to use this to their advantage. He checked Scott’s contract and after confirming there were still a few years left before any renegotiations, reassured Scott that he couldn’t be fired. He had also pitched a few businesses he could approach quietly, to see who might be interested in sponsoring Scott, since this was going to blow up his name and get a lot more eyes on him.

After Todd was onboard, Scott began forming his support circle.

Harv Murdock was first. Being one of the first successful African American Hockey Players, Scott’s coach would understand a little of what Scott was going to face once this was out.

Harv, despite being a tough coach, was a good guy and had told Scott that no matter what, he had his support. Having both Harv and Todd on his side, made him feel much better about the prospect of coming out.

He also told his closest friends. Vaughny, Benny and Huff.

That particular conversation had taken place in a hotel room while on their first trip of the season. Despite playing better than he ever had before, Scott had found himself missing Kip worse than normal. Telling his friends meant he could talk about his boyfriend.

Vaughny had been surprised by the reveal, Huff less so and Benny had given him a knowing look but once the surprise died down, they were all supportive. Vaughny in particular, was excited to learn Scott had a boyfriend and had demanded to meet Kip the moment they got back to New York.

Kip had also been allowed to tell his friends and family about the relationship. Scott hadn’t been certain at first, when Kip had asked but when he realised this would give Kip his own safety net, he was all for it. If Kip’s friends knew about Scott, then Kip would feel more comfortable that Scott wasn’t going to harm him. And it meant Scott now had further ties to Kip through his friends and dad.

The first game after the All Stars, was when Scott decided to come out to the whole team. He knew Vaughny and Huff had been feeling out the others for weeks after his confession to them, trying to figure out if anyone was going to have an issue playing with a gay teammate.

Vaughny was happy to report to Scott before they left for the All Stars, that no one was going to be a problem. The knowledge that his team had his back had made the week away from Kip more bearable and at least he got some enjoyment in sic’ing Vaughny on Hollander and Rozanov, since the two were playing on the same team for the first time.

As Vaughny had predicted, his coming out to the team had gone smoothly. No one had shown any disgust or made any disparaging comments. Once the guys had gotten used to the idea, it was like they had always known. No one cared who he was dating, as long as he was still their Captain.

The Admirals had been on fire all season and a lucky break (for them, not for Montreal after their Captain suffered a serious injury) gave them a clear run through the Play Offs. Soon, Scott found himself stepping out onto the ice against San Francisco, to fight for the Stanley Cup.

The jubilation of leading his team so far had been mixed with apprehension, Scott knowing that, no matter if they won or lost tonight, tomorrow, he would be posting his statement, coming out to the world. Harv had pulled him into his office before the game, asking him one last time if he was ready for this. And Scott found he was. He was ready to get rid of the monster and live his true life.

Kip was in the stands to watch the game, Elena and his dad with him and Scott knew his boyfriend's presence was enough to inspire him. Even if it may be the last time.

The day before the Cup game, they had gone on another date, this time to the Natural History Museum. Kip had gotten a job there a few months prior and Scott had delighted in the private tour the man gave him, even being so bold as to kiss Kip when they found themselves in one of the quieter galleries. He hoped the gesture would be enough to prove his commitment to the man.

And yet, Scott had put off the conversation, the need to finally ask Kip if he would stay.

Kip had done what he had promised, staying with Scott throughout the season, keeping him steady and safe as he prepared to reveal the biggest secret of his career. Scott in return, did everything he could to try and show Kip he was serious, that he wanted Kip to stay with him forever.

But Scott found he couldn’t ask Kip the simple question. Not yet. He wanted to get through the game before his world possibly imploded on itself once more. Today, he was closeted and taken, a serial killer who preyed on the men he slept with and tomorrow he could find himself out and single, no more secrets to protect. No more reasons to kill. And no more Kip. Scott wasn’t sure if that was better or worse, but he wanted to hold onto the reality of his relationship for as long as possible. He didn’t know what he would become tomorrow.

So he fought.

On the ice, he was a machine, pushing his body to the brink. San Francisco was a good team and the game was brutal, but the Admirals were playing to win and soon pulled ahead. Scott was so focused, he was even taken by surprise when the final siren sounded, signaling they had won the game.

The next few minutes were a blur of activity, handshakes offered and hugs given. Commissioner Crowell had arrived with the cup and Scott accepted the handshake before raising it above his head for the cameras.

Then his team's families had spilled out onto the ice to join the celebrations. Scott saw Huff and Benny hug their wives, Vaughny finally relieved of the cup, sweeping Gloria off her feet. He saw Harv come down to celebrate, his suit tie askew.

The crowd was going wild, the lights almost too bright now the adrenaline had worn off. And despite being in the middle of it all, Scott felt alone.

He knew Kip was out there, in the crowd and a part of Scott knew that he shouldn’t be. No, Kip should be here on the ice. He was the reason Scott had triumphed, he was the driving force behind everything Scott had done, from playing so well, to giving up killing, to his eventual coming out. He deserved the recognition as much as Scott did.

Without thinking, Scott found himself scanning the crowds, looking for his man. He had been the one to organise Kip’s seats so he knew roughly where he would be. Still, it took a moment before he spotted him.

And that was when Scott had his decision. What did a day or two really matter? He and Todd had everything ready to go for his announcement. It wouldn’t do too much damage to bring things forward a little. And what better way to prove himself, then by showing Kip just how much he meant to him?

So as soon as he spotted Kip, he was waving him down. Even from a distance, he could see Kip was confused but complying, walking down the steps to the edge of the rink. Scott skated over, wanting to meet him before he got cold feet. Before Kip tried to run away.

The crowd was still loud, so Scott barely managed to get a word out but as soon as Kip was close, he gestured for him to jump onto the ice and took his hand, guiding him towards the team.

Kip, perceptive as ever, had muttered to Scott that he didn’t have to do this, but Scott knew he did. He had to show Kip and the world how much this meant to him.

They didn’t even make it close to the team before Scott gave up, turning to face Kip. He didn’t care about the cameras following him. Didn’t care about the thousands of spectators. His whole focus was on the man before him as he took both of Kip’s hands in his.

“Kip, you said you would stay until the end of the season, and I know I have no right to more than that, but I want to. You have brightened up my life and helped me, more than you could ever know. You have saved lives, including my own. So, I’m asking you now, will you stay?” He asked.

Kip's eyes were staring into his soul, a little half smile on his face. Then the smile turned into a full grin as Kip gave a tiny nod.

“Yes.”

Scott couldn’t resist it anymore, he leant forward and, threading his fingers in Kip’s hair, pulled him in for a kiss in front of the world.

Scott wasn’t sure how long they kissed before they pulled apart. All he could do was stare into Kip’s warm brown eyes.

“I love you so fucking much.” He said.

Kip’s reply was music to his ears.

“I love you too.” He said and Scott knew he had won. More than the game, more than the Cup.

Quickly, he wrapped Kip in his arms, relief and love flooding through him. Because finally it was over. Scott Hunter, Serial Killer, was dead, the Monster silenced forever.

All because Kip had promised to stay.

Chapter End Notes

Welp, she's done. Now time to get back to Troublemakers (and my secret, Marleau is a Vampire fic because I am a Tumblr girlie and was inspired by all the shit posting I have been seeing)

Thanks for reading.