They lose the game against the Pioneers and to top the whole thing off they have to stay in Denver for the night. It’s snowing so hard that the airport has shut down, not that they’d have made it over there anyway, as their bus is pretty much buried in snow by the time the game's over.
There’s a mad scramble while the coaches negotiate things with the Denver people. Phil is already in a crappy mood because he had a horrible game, nothing was clicking for him, he only got a measly assist and even that came on the power play. He hates playing in Denver, the altitude messing everything up and making him feel slow and winded all game long.
He throws his pads in the bag with his other equipment and tosses the bag in the pile where everyone is storing them for transport later and pulls his beanie deeper over his ears. Phil’s hungry, his calves ache and he has a feeling he was supposed to turn in an essay before he left. He just wants to go home already.
Instead the team is split into three groups and herded into cars that drive them all over the campus to stay in different places for the night. He’s glad to notice he ended up in the same group with Blake, so at least he’s not the only freshman there. He’s even gladder about it when he sees where they got taken to. It looks like a frat house and Phil wonders how the hockey players are allowed to rush, as his coach had pretty much told them to forget about it, if they wanted to play seriously.
Inside, the guy who drove them there shouts for Brian, who thunders down the stairs. Phil’s pretty sure he’s the captain of the Pioneers, even though he can’t tell now that the dude’s out of his hockey gear.
“Make some room somewhere for the Gophers to sleep, okay? This comes straight from the coach. Someone’ll come pick them up at eight tomorrow morning.”
Brian’s nodding along, “Yeah, yeah, Coach already told us before we left the rink. Fucking blizzard out there. We’ll take care of them, no worries. No reason not to be hospitable after a game like that,” He grins at Phil and the others like an asshole. Of course he has to rub it in that they just won 4-2.
The guy Phil thinks is an assistant for the Pioneers leaves soon after, abandoning them to the mercies of their peers.
“Most guys are chilling in the den right now. We’re going to see if we can get people to come over later, even with the weather. Can’t let a Saturday go to waste, no matter what the weather is like, right?” Brian says and high fives Andy.
“We don’t have any spare rooms but three people will fit on the couches downstairs and a couple of guys had roommates who promised to go spend the night with their girls, so it’s all good. There’s protein shakes in the kitchen, feel free to make yourself one but don’t drink anyone’s beer without permission. Come on I’ll take you to the den.”
Phil follows Brian with the rest of his teammates and tries not feel awkward. Luckily the den is actually in the basement, where a projector is showing a Red Wings Canucks game, so he’s not expected to talk to anyone.
The game is great; he manages to see most of the second period before someone comes down the stairs and announces, “Party’s starting! Don managed to go get pizza too and didn’t even get stuck in any snowbanks.”
The promise of pizza and girls is enough to drive everyone upstairs where someone has turned on the music on way too loud in the living room. Phil makes his way to the kitchen and manages to get a slice of pepperoni before it’s all gone.
“Hey, Kessel, right?” a dude with spiky dark hair and dark brown eyes asks him.
Phil nods and takes a bite out of his slice before the cheese has a chance to slide off the tip. The first bite is the best part and Phil isn’t about to miss out on it just to be polite and answer some random guy.
“I’m Tyler. You have some sick wheels. Total nightmare trying to keep you in check,” the guy—Tyler says, grinning a bit crookedly and he seems friendly enough, so Phil doesn’t feel the need to make a hasty retreat right away. Besides, who doesn’t like compliments?
“Thanks,” Phil says and realizes he can’t think of anything nice to say in return, he doesn’t remember this guy at all and by now the silence has gotten too long anyway. Phil takes another bite of his pizza, resigned to the fact that this Tyler will think he’s a completely narcissistic asshole.
Instead, Tyler bursts out laughing and punches Phil on the shoulder. He doesn’t do it hard though and his laugher seems genuine instead of mean spirited. Phil doesn’t know what to do about that.
“Come on, let’s grab some beers. I heard them bring the keg in.” Tyler says, and Phil follows him without thinking.
Phil ends up shadowing Tyler around the whole night. It’s weird; Phil never gets along with someone this easily. Tyler doesn’t seem to care about any of it, not the fact that Phil just mostly listens instead of talking, or how his jokes are kind of weird, or how he ends up going on this long rant about his quest for the perfect stick.
“Fuck, sorry.” Phil apologizes when he notices he’s been talking about different flexes for at least five minutes. He knows most players are particular about the sticks they use, but the way he went on about it edges into the ‘embarrassing weirdo’ territory. Phil knows he’s been going on about it too long when Tyler start looking spaced out.
Some of its Tyler’s fault though, Phil’s pretty sure nobody listens to him ramble like this. Usually people change the subject pretty quickly, or leave when they get bored with him.
Tyler grins. “Don’t worry about it, it’s nice to see you’re so passionate about things.”
It seems he’s about to say something else too, but then one of his teammates comes to drag him into a beer pong tournament.
Phil isn’t expecting it, but he feels pretty pleased when Tyler grabs him by the elbow and drags him along, “Come on bud, I bet we’ll make a fucking awesome team.”
They aren’t half bad actually. Phil’s great at regular ping pong and he’s not drunk, so his hand-eye co-ordination is still good. Tyler’s not as good, but he holds his own and they make it to the final before being beat by two seniors from Tyler’s team.
After bowing out, Phil’s feeling a bit tipsy and he’s pretty sure Tyler must be feeling it too, so it’s nice to get out of the noisiest part of the house. Some of the people have abandoned the party on the first floor and are watching the highlights from that evening’s games at the den. Tyler pulls Phil to sit next to him and they keep a quiet commentary going throughout.
Phil tries not to react when Tyler leans into him to whisper something about Datsyuk, tries not to notice how hot Tyler’s hand feels on his thigh, or how Tyler’s breath tickles the skin on his neck.
The highlight show ends and someone starts to channel surf and there’s an argument over whether they should watch a movie, or put on porn.
“I don’t think we want to see which side wins,” Tyler tells Phil and nudges him to get up from the couch.
They climb up the stairs, where the music volume has risen to deafening heights, or maybe Phil’s just not used to it anymore after the relative quiet of the den. Most of the guys seem to be pretty drunk already and there are couples making out in corners.
“Wow, okay. I think we should go check my room, make sure nobody is fucking on my bed. I just did laundry last week and I don’t want someone else’s jizz on my sheets,” Tyler says.
Phil follows him upstairs and mostly succeeds in not staring at Tyler’s ass.
Tyler opens one of the doors on the second floor and looks around suspiciously, even though there’s not enough room for anyone to be hiding anywhere. “Seems okay. You can bunk here with me, Dave is out of the lineup with a broken wrist, so he went to Aspen with his girl this weekend. Don’t tell the coach though; he’d have a fucking seizure if he knew Dave is out there snowboarding with his wrist already fucked up.”
Tyler explains all this, while he’s opening his laptop and Phil’s just standing at the doorway, suddenly back to feeling awkward now that they’re alone. The music is still clearly audible, and he can hear people talking somewhere, but right here? It’s just the two of them and Phil is very aware that he’s had too many cups of beer to be thinking clearly.
“Come on, sit down, take a load off and make yourself at home,” Tyler tells him and pushes his laptop to the side once he has the music player up and running.
Phil does as he’s told and watches as Tyler fiddles with some papers on his desk, while his foot taps in time with the music. Phil doesn’t recognize the singer, but he rolls his eyes anyway. Why is it that all Canadians he knows are in love with country?
He repeats the question out loud and Tyler looks up from his papers with a grin. His eyes are such a warm shade of brown, and fuck—Phil is really too drunk for this to be safe. He looks away from Tyler.
“Country’s awesome and clearly superior to all other American music genres, no point in even trying to argue about it,” Tyler says, pushes the papers away with a sigh and changes the subject.
“Fuck, school is so much work? I feel like all I do is train, play hockey and despair over econ.”
Phil shrugs, feeling relieved. He can bitch about school, that’s easy. “My parents thought it’d be a good idea, you know just in case things don’t work out.”
Tyler is looking at him again. Like what he says is interesting and it’s messing with Phil’s head.
“You’ll get drafted; I’ve seen the prospect rankings, same as everyone else. Don’t think you’ll have to worry about going back to Minnesota next fall,” Tyler says and kicks Phil on the shin gently.
“Hopefully not, I don’t think I’m smart enough for college,” Phil says. He’s taking the easy classes that everyone had suggested for him and even those seem to add up to a lot of work. He’d much rather just play hockey.
“What about you?” he asks Tyler, still feeling bad that he doesn’t even know if Tyler’s already been drafted or not.
Now it’s Tyler’s turn to shrug and for the first time all night his expression shudders down from the easy friendliness to something almost unhappy. “Who knows. We’re evaluating things this summer with my agent. Until then… I mean people still make it even without getting drafted.”
Phil nods hurriedly, “Yeah, for sure. I bet you’ll make it.”
Tyler offers him a grateful smile. “Thanks bud. I don’t usually turn into a weepy drunk and let’s keep it that way, eh?”
Phil nods and watches Tyler go over to the bookcase next to the doorway. The fabric of his Pioneers tee stretches over his shoulders and hugs his narrow waist. Phil has to swallow with some difficulty when Tyler crouches down as he looks for something on the bottom shelf and his sweatpants get plastered to his ass.
“Ha! Found it,” Tyler says and comes back to the bed, holding a DVD case.
“You seen Troy yet? It should be pretty epic,” Tyler asks.
“No, never had the time,” Phil says and scoots a bit closer to Tyler so he can see the laptop on his knees.
The movie is pretty cool. The CGI looks sick and the action isn’t bad either. Phil is pretty sure he’d enjoy all the shirtlessness a lot more if he was watching this by himself, but it’s impossible to ignore how good Brad Pitt looks topless.
Pitt’s character is raging about the Trojans killing his bro on screen when Tyler shifts on his seat and says, “Did you know those two boned in the original story?”
Phil’s mouth drops open in disbelief. “Are you shitting me?”
Tyler shakes his head. “Nope, they were totally boning, someone told me. I mean it was pretty normal back in those days. Guys fucking their friends.”
“Oh,” Phil says lamely and determinately doesn’t look away from the screen. Why would Tyler bring that up? Is he hinting at something? Did he notice Phil acting weird?
“I’m just saying, I think they had the right idea. I mean what’s wrong with fooling around with your buddies, right?” Tyler continues and now Phil has to turn to look at him.
Tyler’s smiling at him again and before Phil can think of anything to say, Tyler leans in and kisses him.
Phil sputters into it for a second before his brain catches up. It’s not like hot guys are lining up to make out with him in every party.
In reality, Phil’s only ever kissed one guy and now Tyler, so he’s definitely going to enjoy this as long as it lasts.
When Tyler pulls away from him, Phil makes an embarrassing sound and tries to follow Tyler’s mouth with his own. Tyler laughs and brushes a thumb over Phil’s lips.
“You want me to blow you?” Tyler asks which makes Phil’s brain short circuit completely for a second.
“Fuck, are you serious?” Phil says and his voice squeaks mortifyingly.
Tyler grins and licks his lips before he slides off the mattress to kneel on the floor. Suddenly Tyler’s right there, between Phil’s legs, rubbing his thighs with his big hands, his thumbs sliding up the inseam, making Phil’s pulse race.
“I’ve been thinking about it all night. Come on, lose the pants,” Tyler says, like admitting something like that is easy, or normal. No big deal, just want to suck some cock.
Phil gasps as Tyler goes to work on his belt and the button on his jeans. Phil doesn’t think he’s ever gotten this hard, this fast since he was sixteen and found gay porn for the first time. Fuck, this is like gay porn. Tyler seems so confident, practiced at this and Phil is left floundering.
By the time he Tyler’s gotten his hand on Phil’s cock, Phil’s already on the brink of coming. “Fuck, stop, you have to stop, or I’m gonna come right now.”
Tyler laughs again, but does take his hands off, resting them on Phil’s hips. “Okay, take your time, big guy. Been a while?”
Phil’s sure his face is already scarlet, so at least Tyler can’t see him blush when he mutters. “Yeah something like that.”
Now that Tyler’s not touching him, Phil starts to feel stupid just sitting there with his cock hanging out and that in turn makes it feel less like he’s about to shoot his load, so at least there’s that.
“Okay,” he says and Tyler springs into action so eagerly again that it really works wonders on Phil’s ego.
Tyler’s mouth on him is relentless pressure, wet and hot and, fuck, so tight. Phil can’t catch his breath, left gasping.
Phil can’t tear his eyes away from Tyler’s mouth, stretched obscenely wide around his cock. Tyler’s hands are pinning Phil’s hips to the mattress and he doesn’t have any leverage, which is really doing it for him. Tyler’s the one on his knees on the floor, but it’s Phil who’s left feeling powerless, at Tyler’s mercy.
He’s twisting his hands into the sheets, trying to ground himself somehow, but it’s pointless, he’s so close to coming and Phil hates himself for not having more self-control. He wants this to go on forever, he never wants Tyler to stop.
There’s really no need for it, but Phil spreads his legs even wider and whines when Tyler follows his movement, pushing even closer, his shoulders rubbing against the bare skin of Phil’s inner thighs.
“Tyler, please, please, don’t stop, oh God,” Phil’s babbling and can’t stop, no matter how hard he bites his lower lip. The words just come out with no regard to Phil’s dignity.
It’s all over when Tyler takes him in deep and swallows around the head. Phil’s many things but he’s no superman and he’s pretty sure everyone would come from something like that.
Phil comes and comes, staring mesmerized at Tyler. Holy fuck, he actually swallows all of it and gives Phil a sultry look from under his eyelashes, which is dirty pool. Phil’s left gasping and feeling like all the bones have melted from his body.
Tyler pulls off with one last lick, which makes Phil’s oversensitive body twitch helplessly and manhandles Phil onto the bed properly. Phil looks up at Tyler, dazed and high from his orgasm.
“Fuck that was so hot,” Phil blurts out.
Tyler, who’d been busy getting his own cock free, looks up and grins at Phil. “Yeah?”
Phil nods, “So, so hot.”
“That’s always nice to hear. Give me a hand?” Tyler says hopefully and it’s not like he has to ask twice. Phil wraps his fingers around Tyler’s cock eagerly and looks up at Tyler when he hears him moan.
Tyler gives him a crooked smile, “Sorry, I’m terrible at keeping quiet. Wanna make out?”
“What kind of an idiot you think I am? Get down here,” Phil tells him and pulls Tyler down with his free hand.
At the first taste, a zing of heat races through Phil’s body. Fuck, that’s his own come he’s tasting on Tyler’s lips. Phil still can’t believe Tyler actually did that.
Tyler is rubbing his cock on Phil’s hip, making it hard for Phil to grip him properly. He’s not going to complain about it, no fucking way, it’s so hot to feel it slide against his skin, the way Tyler’s breath hitches every once in a while. The way he moans into Phil’s neck when Phil slides his thumb around and over the head, spreading the pre-come around.
“Don’t, uh, fuck, don’t leave marks,” Phil reminds Tyler, when he nips at Phil’s collarbone. It should be easy enough to explain if anyone commented on it, but Phil doesn’t want to risk it. No matter how hot it would be if Tyler marked him up all over.
“Sorry,” Tyler whispers back and kisses the spot he’d bitten before coming up for another kiss instead. It doesn’t take long after that for Tyler to come too. Somehow Tyler has the presence of mind to cup his cock in his hand, so there’s hardly any mess to clean up.
Tyler grabs a tissue from the night stand, wipes his hand and then haphazardly at Phil’s stomach before he throws it on the floor. Tyler’s still on top of Phil, his breath tickling the skin on his neck and Phil runs his fingers absentmindedly up and down Tyler’s back.
Phil’s just thinking that Tyler’s getting a bit heavy when Tyler lets out a sigh and gets up.
“I’m gonna clean up a bit, you can take my bed and I’ll sleep in Dave’s,” Tyler tells him before he books it. Phil’s left reeling, he’s really not sure how any of this happened.
First time getting a blowjob from a guy, first time jerking a guy off. Phil thought he’d feel different afterwards. Instead he just feels a bit annoyed that Tyler didn’t stay and a lot more sure about the fact that he’s gay. Or mostly gay, at least.
Phil gets up enough to put his boxers back on and then climbs under the covers. It smells like Tyler in here, his scent and deodorant mixed together. Maybe he should be more grossed out, but Phil likes it, would like it even more if Tyler was in here with him. It would be a tight fit though with the narrow bed, but Phil’s sure they could manage it.
It takes a while, but finally the door opens again, letting in the sounds of the party, before Tyler closes it and turns the lock behind him. Tyler is obviously trying to be quiet, like he thinks Phil has fallen asleep with all the lights on.
Tyler glances at him and offers Phil a sheepish smile. “Oh, I thought you might have been asleep. If you need to go to the head, it’s at the end of the hall. But word of warning, there were people having sex there when I went, took me ages to drive them off. Jack is pissed.”
Phil clears his throat, not sure what to say to that. Obviously Tyler is going on like they didn’t just have sex, so he should do the same?
“Do you have parties like these all the time?” Phil asks, not that he cares much. He lives in the dorms like all freshmen and hopefully he’ll be in the NHL by next year, so he won’t have to worry about it anymore.
“Every weekend pretty much, well unless we’re playing somewhere. You get used to it and anyway, who doesn’t like a party? I hope you liked this one?” Tyler asks and waggles his eyebrows ridiculously.
Phil laughs, Tyler’s an idiot, but the kind of idiot Phil thinks he’d grow really easily to like, so maybe it’s a good thing he’ll be out of here in the morning.
“It was alright I suppose,” Phil says and ignores the exaggerated pout aimed his way.
“Way to thank me after I gave you my bed and everything, asshole,” Tyler says and kills the lights.
Phil listens to him stumble into the other bed. The party noises are easier to make out now, in the dark and the relative quiet of the room. Phil thinks it’ll take him ages to fall asleep, but he’s wrong.
“Get up, the Gophers need to get the hell out, their coach is here!” Someone banging on the door.
Phil springs up before he’s properly awake. He has one leg in his pants before he notices Tyler watching him from the other bed. Tyler looks rumpled, there’s a red splotch of color on his cheek from the pillow and his hair is sticking up from the same side. It shouldn’t make Phil’s chest tighten like that to see.
“Hey, um, thanks for everything. I had a really good time. Uh, and I don’t just mean… you know. Like hanging out and shit, that was cool. Fuck, what I mean is, I appreciated it,” Phil tries to explain as he finishes getting dressed.
“Any time, what are bros for, if we don’t take care of each other?” Tyler says, yawning and scratching his bare chest.
Fuck, Phil’s going to be jerking off to thoughts of Tyler for months, he just knows it. The certainty gives Phil the courage to go to Tyler, bend down and steal one more kiss.
Tyler doesn’t seem to mind, he hums into it, letting Phil lick into his mouth and scratches his blunt nails gently on the nape of Phil’s neck.
Reluctantly Phil pulls away, licking his lips. “See you around, or whatever,” Phil says and escapes.
He wants to bang his head against the wall for being such an awkward idiot, but there’s no time. He races down the stairs, almost colliding with Blake and they leave the house together. It seems the streets have been cleared enough for their bus to get around, as it’s parked at the curb.
Phil climbs in and he’s only listening to Blake with a half an ear, as he complains about having to sleep on the den couch. Mostly Phil’s thinking about Tyler and forcing himself not to touch his lips, even though they still feel all tingly.
It really is for the best that he’s not likely to see Tyler again after this, as Phil was way too into him, after one fucking night together. He can’t afford a distraction like that. Not now, so close to the draft and maybe not for a long time after that either.
But if he fantasizes about a boy with warm brown eyes and a crooked smile, then who’s to know. Fantasies are harmless.