A burly transfer from Kitaakita, muscular stock isn’t native to Ibaraki.
The name T A N I G A K I stretches across the back of those broad shoulders. There’s no extra letter before it because there’s no other Tanigaki on this team.
You’re a wall that nothing passes through. Your blades are carbon, not stainless. Your jockstrap is bigger and stronger because the only thing more important than protecting the goal is protecting the goaltender’s meat.
The whistle blows, and off comes the mask. Hair soaked to the scalp, your skin shines under the arena lights.
That’s right—I’m staring at you. I don’t sit my ass on these benches three days a week to watch my pampered brother slap a rubber puck around the ice. Lift the hem of that jersey and dab at those chocolate eyes. Let’s see that dense middle, corded with muscle and covered in hair.
So much hair.
Glide your way over here so I can smell you, Matagi.
“You’re staring at me again,” even your voice is thick.
That’s right—I’m not answering you. My shoes cost more than you make a month steaming noodles at that ramen cart on campus. You can make some real cash if you strip to your underwear and clean my high-rise every Saturday.
I’m your superior in every way, and that makes your mouth water.
“Want to see all of me?”
That’s right—toss that stick aside and pull off that shirt. You’re a hairy monster, even your underarms are loaded. My dick is out when you mount that rail and tip your upper body over it.
Open that mouth, show me that tongue—
Hyakunosuke slowly turned, “What is it, Yuusaku?”
“Practice is over,” he said, stick in hand.
“You’re standing right next to me in public,”
“Sorry, brother,” he sank onto the bench beside him. “I forgot,”
“How would you like it if I forgot to bring you?”
“I appreciate you bringing me, brother,” he laughed, mouth-guard around his neck like a charm. “If father found out I still played after he forbid it-”
“—He’s unreasonable, and you’re a grown man,”
“That’s what I told my mom,” he said.
“Your mother knows I bring you here?”
“I’m not allowed to talk to you,” he blurted.
“Hanazawa!” the sexy Matagi approached.
“Hey, Tanigaki!” the lumbering fool forgot the golden rule and stood.
“—Sorry brother,” he quickly sat back down.
It’s not easy being hairy in Japan.
All the hawks love smooth sparse bodies. They window shop like high-school girls, never buying, touching, or tasting.
“I’m glad you waited for me,” blood red briefs stretch tight over that chunky ass.
Damn that bulge is begging for my hand.
That’s right—spread those hairy thighs and straddle my lap.
“Am I too heavy?” –who cares I love it. “I want to suck you until you co-”
Hyakunosuke slowly turned, “What, Yuusaku?”
“Can Genji come with us?” he said. “He lives along the way, we could drop him off,”
“I don’t have a back seat, Yuusaku,”
“Wait,” Tanigaki grasped the railing, “Is that your Porsche in the parking lot?”
“He just got it,” Yuusaku bragged. “It’s so fast!”
“Go shower up,” Hyakunosuke stood. “I’ll drop Yuusaku off and come back for you,”
Brown eyes softened, “I don’t want to put you out, Sir,”
“Don’t call me, Sir,” he said politely. “I’m only a few years older than you,”
“I forgot,” the bear cast a boyish grin and rubbed at his ear, playfully. “But I don’t want to put you out,”
“I wouldn’t offer if I were put out,” he slipped on his sunglasses. “Just be ready when I get back, maybe I’ll let you drive it,”
Tanigaki’s handsome face came alive, “No shit!”
“Hey,” his brother pouted. “You never let me drive it,”
“You don’t have a license, Yuusaku,”
“Neither does Genji,” he countered.
“I got a permit,” said the Matagi. “It’s for riding quads in the mountains, but it makes me more road-ready than you,”
“That’s not fair, brother,” he tried to stand, but a firm hand on his shoulder kept him seated. “I want to drive, too,”
“I’ll think about it, Yuusaku,”
He watched Tanigaki coast back across the ice as they walked up the bleachers.
“Saturday night, right?” came a throaty holler.
Hyakunosuke turned, “Sure-”
“—Shit!” Yuusaku cried. “I asked, and my father said no sleep-overs,”
“Blood Hockey 3,” annoyed never looked so good. “New levels, ‘Yoos!”
“I couldn’t get a copy,” his brother scowled. “My father thinks any form of hockey is-”
“—I bought it, Yuusaku,”
The younger man clamored down and got too close as always. “For the PlayStation, brother?”
“You can come over this weekend,” Hyakunosuke stepped around him and ventured toward the exit. “Play all night if you want,”
“My brother lives downtown,” he bragged.
“No shit,” damn that voice was deep. “In one of those high-scrapers?”
“I got an extra futon and a big screen tv,” Hyakunosuke shouted. “We’ll have some beers and game for the night,”
Yuusaku stared up at him like an expectant puppy, “Are you sure, big brother?”
“Move it before I change my mind, Yuusaku,” he pitched the car keys at him and then steered clear as his spindly legs darted past.
“I’ll be out front, Mister Ogata,” that voice made him hard.
“Genji?” he yelled back. “Just be ready in ten,”
Tanigaki’s gaze lingered, “I’m driving, right?”
“If you don’t have to be home,” he said. “We can take turns,”