“Spare us your kinky sex fantasies, Morley,” Ryu said, “I’m trying to finish my salad.”
Morley tossed a chicken bone at him, which Ryu neatly dodged. “You already killed the fantasy by bringing up your bowl of lettuce, Mori. Who even orders salad from a pizza place anyway? Greasiness is the point of such fine establishments.”
As Ryu and Morley started bickering and Micah watched in amusement, Daniel shook his head fondly. He kissed Micah on the cheek, and Micah leaned into him, his attention on Daniel’s friends but his hand dropping to land on Daniel’s thigh under the table.
It felt amazing to be back with his hockey brothers, however brief the visit. It felt even better to be certain, deep in his chest, that he’d made the right decision for his career. Daniel wasn’t hanging up his skates for good. His position on the team might be changing, but hockey would always be in his blood, and now he’d get to stay connected to the sport he loved and help future generations accomplish their dreams, and he’d get to do it all while being near his family. He didn’t think anything could improve his mood at that moment.
Micah squeezed his thigh and rested his head on Daniel’s shoulder. Daniel turned to inhale the scent of coconut shampoo and press a kiss to his auburn hair.
Well, maybe there was one thing.
Epilogue
On a warm summer day in July, the Biscayne Bay Aquarium released Dudley the sea turtle back into the wild. The savvy PR department had decided to make it a whole thing, with a party for donors and season pass holders, and air-conditioned tents. The actual release was a little anticlimactic for visitors, who watched it back on land from a livestream feed of the boat.
Micah felt a bit teary eyed to see the big guy swim off into the great unknown. It was probably some kind of metaphor, if he thought about it, for the entire last year of his life. I don’t know what’s in store for me, either, buddy. But we did some hard work, let’s swim and enjoy ourselves, go where the current takes us. Now that Dudley was among his people—er, metaphorically—Micah could stand around in his suit, eat appetizers on a tiny plate and clap at the fundraising speeches, and stand next to his impossibly hot, hockey coach boyfriend.
Life could have been worse, Micah thought with a smile. He raised his glass in a silent toast to Dudley, then clapped politely as their annual fund director gave a not-so-subtle speech about how important work needed funding from passionate and dedicated supporters. She was probably beaming at Daniel, who’d made a substantial donation in his kids’ names. Micah beamed at him for that, too. And blew him, but Micah didn’t think their development director wanted to hear about that.
“I’m so glad I don’t have to do this part,” Micah said to Daniel, who was standing next to him. “I don’t mind talking about the facilities or leading tours, but asking for money makes me nervous. I swear whenever I try to do the money speech, everyone acts like they can’t hear me and I know I have a loud voice.”
“You definitely do,” Daniel said. “I could always hear you yelling at my games.”
“That’s because there were only ever eight people watching,” Micah said, dryly. “And six of them were cheering for whoever the other team was.”
Daniel snorted, but then he gave Micah an elbow. “Too soon, man.”
“Oh, whatever, it is not.” Micah nibbled on a puffed crab pastry thing and sipped at his beer. “And hey, they did okay.” Even though Micah had loyally switched his allegiances to the Strikers when Daniel took his new assistant coaching position, he sort of had a soft spot for the Thunder. And they had the same color scheme as the Strikers, so Micah could keep most of his hockey-themed gear.
“Man.” Daniel sighed. “I still can’t believe Silver is going to be deprived of a Cup photo op. I was counting on the Venom winning it again and bringing it down here to share their success with their former captain.”
It might be okay to make fun of Daniel’s brief time with the Thunder, but it was definitely too soon to make jokes about the Venom’s loss to the Boston Whalers in the Eastern Conference Final. The Whalers had gone on to lose to the Seattle Reign, so that counted for hockey vengeance as far as Micah knew. Daniel had been hardcore cheering for the Venom in the playoffs, and so had Micah.
Daniel’s last game with the Thunder was at the end of April, since the playoffs were out of the picture for the poor, last-place team. Despite the season being less than stellar, Daniel’s last game had included an on-ice ceremony and recognition of his leadership and hockey accomplishments—even if, as Daniel joked wryly, they happened elsewhere. It was a nice ceremony. No one booed.
“You’ll have to get him a photo op with your team’s trophy next year, instead,” Micah responded, patting his boyfriend on the arm. Daniel’s assistant coaching duties were mostly administrative at this point, but he was already doing some conditioning with a few select players. He was a big hit with the team. The players and their parents loved him. Micah knew the feeling well. “Silver will be proud of you, and so will I.”
“Thanks.” Daniel smiled down at him. “Are you going to let me grow a playoff beard again?”
Daniel had grown one in sympathy for the Venom, but honestly, while Micah was bummed his boyfriend’s old team had lost, he was fine with Daniel shaving the beard. It was sexy for the first two rounds, but Daniel had begun to look like he might start making weird YouTube videos about conspiracy theories or obscure mathematical concepts by the time the Venom had lost in the conference final.
“These are delicious,” Daniel said, eating another one of the crab puff things. “I can have this and regular beer, now. All the time, even!”
“Yet another benefit of retirement,” Micah joked. He was looking forward to seeing Daniel coach games, and he had to admit that he wouldn’t miss the breathless feeling of fear every time someone slammed him into the boards or knocked him upside the head with the stick. Now he just had to go to parties with awkward kids and their star-struck parents at Daniel’s house. Their house. It was still taking some getting used to, remembering Micah and Cousteau lived there now, too.
“Yo, Dolphin!”
Blinking, Micah turned around and saw the towering, suited and still-bearded form of Trevor Morley standing amidst the donors and holding a Miller Lite. “Uh. Danny? Did you bring Morley as your plus-one, ’cause I kinda thought I might take you home with me.”
It wasn’t just a plus-one, though. Morley was accompanied by Tristan Holt, Ryu Mori, Emmitt Armstrong and Sebastian Cruz, Tristan’s boyfriend. Micah blinked. “You brought a plus...five?”
“Yeah,” Daniel said, wide eyed. “Technically, a plus eight, if you count Tabby and the kids. Is that a problem?”