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February 2027 — Columbus, Ohio, United States
West Coast road trips with the Empires had—so far—not been cursed. After nearly two years of them, neither Joey nor Bryce had been traded and Bryce’s shoulder was (mostly) in one piece after their latest swing from Minnesota through Western Canada and all the way to the Pacific. Now they were stopping in Ohio for a game against the Cannons before finally, finally returning home to New York after nearly two weeks away.
Hopscotching across four different timezones had wrecked Joey’s sleep schedule. He’d taken a nap on Bryce’s shoulder on the plane, but he was still dragging by the time they made it to the hotel. Since they were at the end of a long roadie, Sarah had encouraged them to stay with the team at the hotel instead of at the house to try and maximize their sleep. They would still see her and the kids tonight for dinner and tomorrow at the game.
Joey abandoned his suitcase just inside the door of their room and flopped face down onto the bed.
“How long until dinner?” he asked, voice muffled by the pillow. He felt the bed dip as Bryce sat down beside him. He carded his fingers through Joey’s curls, which were tangled and flat after being squashed against an airplane headrest for most of the day.
“A couple hours,” Bryce said, his hand continuing its path downward, tracing his knuckles down Joey’s spine, “You want to nap or…”
Normally Joey would jump at the or part of the sentence. But at the moment, he just wanted to sleep. He reached for Bryce’s hand, weaving their fingers together. He tugged as he rolled onto his side, until Bryce’s arm was draped across his waist and, after some shuffling, his body was pressed along the curve of Joey’s.
Bryce chuckled, a deep vibration against Joey’s back, “Sleep, baby. I’ve got you.”
Their relationship had started just like this. Finding peace in each other’s arms, in sleeping in the same bed. Joey fell asleep thinking about that, about how far they had come since that first nap together in Miami.
Joey awoke sometime later to Bryce pressing kisses to the back of his neck. Bryce’s thumb traced patterns over Joey’s abs, his dick half-hard against Joey’s ass.
“We should shower,” Bryce said and his deep voice and those gentle touches woke up more than just Joey’s brain.
“We’ve still got time?” Joey asked, rolling over to kiss Bryce properly. It was normally the first thing he did once they were behind a closed door and he hadn’t taken the opportunity earlier.
“Why do you think I woke you up now?” Bryce asked with a laugh. Joey grinned as always at that laugh, taking Bryce’s offered hand as they both rose from the bed.
The shower was bigger than the one in their New York apartment, which was good because that one was a bit of a tight squeeze to fit both of them. Despite the extra space, they stayed close, drawn together like magnets.
Joey let the hot water wash away the grime of travel and the grogginess from their nap, never lifting a hand from Bryce’s skin. Bryce had managed to find their shampoo and soap in their luggage, lathering Joey’s curls with gentle fingers until Joey couldn’t take it anymore. He dropped to his knees on the wet tile, hands curling around Bryce’s broad, hairy thighs, and took Bryce’s hard cock in his mouth. Bryce shuddered above him, one hand still tangled in the curls on the back of Joey’s head, the other shielding his eyes from any shampoo suds. Yet another one of the little things he did every single day that made Joey completely and utterly loved.
Joey needed to make him feel good. Had to try and show him—just a little bit—how much he loved Bryce too. Not just as his lover and partner and friend, but as a doting father, as one of the leaders of their team.
He lifted a hand from Bryce’s thigh and reached between Bryce’s legs, gently circling his hole. Bryce fucking whimpered at the contact.
“Please, baby.” And how could Joey say no to that?
He took Bryce deep to the back of his throat, using the slickness of the water to press just a little into Bryce’s hole. Bryce’s hips jerked and Joey made a noise somewhere between choking and moaning in response.
“Sorry, sorry,” Bryce murmured, his hand gentle in Joey’s curls. Joey backed off just long enough to gasp, “Keep going, baby,” before swallowing him down again.
Bryce didn’t quite fuck his throat. It was something softer, sweeter, even though his hips were moving and Joey’s eyes ended up damp in a way that had nothing to do with the shower.
“Fuck, baby. Gonna—” was all the warning he got, but Joey knew Bryce’s body nearly as well as his own at this point. He could read the jump of Bryce’s abs, the tightening of his fingers in his hair, the change in Bryce’s breathing as his cock pulsed against Joey’s tongue. And then his mouth was filled with Bryce’s cum, thick and warm and all his.
Bryce tugged at Joey’s hair, at his shoulders, at his flanks until Joey was upright again. He hadn’t even finished swallowing the last of Bryce’s load before Bryce’s tongue was in his mouth.
“Need to—” Bryce said when they finally broke apart, starting to lower himself to the tile where Joey had been kneeling.
“Don’t you dare get on your knees in here,” Joey commanded and Bryce shivered again. His spent cock gave a valiant little jump, a few more droplets of cum landing on the tile before washing down the drain.
“Not that old,” Bryce grumbled, but he couldn’t keep the smile from his face. His shoulder was more of a concern than his knees, but he was 33 now with 13 years in the league. Joey was taking no chances with any of Bryce’s joints.
“Gimme your hand,” Joey said. Because he fucking loved Bryce’s hands. They were huge and warm and so, so gentle whenever they touched him. Unless he asked for something rougher.
“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” Bryce said, leaning forward to capture Joey’s mouth again as his hand wrapped around Joey’s cock. His fist moved agonizingly slowly at first, up and down Joey’s water-slicked shaft. Bryce twisted his hand over the head, his thumb pressing at the spot just below as he gradually sped up. It didn’t take long—it never did after swallowing Bryce’s load—before Joey was spilling over Bryce’s fist. He had to brace himself against Bryce’s chest to keep himself upright, his fingers curling into the mat of wet golden hair there.
Bryce loosened his grip, but kept Joey cradled in his palm as he came down from his high. He pressed a line of gentle kisses from behind Joey’s ear and down the side of his neck.
“I love you,” Joey murmured as Bryce nibbled, just for a moment, at his throat.
“I love you too,” Bryce said. His blue eyes were bright and full with that love as he brought their mouths together again, slow and slick and sweet.
After a few (dozen) more kisses, even the high end hotel shower was beginning to run cold. They washed themselves quickly, though they couldn’t truly keep their hands off each other. Their touches were more fond than frantic now, the gentle brush of fingertips across damp, soapy skin. Just the need to be close, to know that the other was there.
They didn’t stop touching when they stepped out of the shower. They made out for a while in the steamy bathroom, towels wrapped loosely around their shoulders, dripping water onto the bathmat beneath their feet. Eventually, with one final lingering kiss, Bryce left Joey alone to get his curls into some sort of order.
Bryce was already half dressed by the time Joey stepped out of the bathroom, shirtless and barefoot in his dark jeans. Joey couldn’t help himself. He crossed the room to press his hand to Bryce’s broad chest, his mouth against the curve of Bryce’s neck.
Bryce chuckled into his hair, kissing his favorite spot at Joey’s temple. “You should get dressed. They’ll be here to pick us up soon.”
“Fine,” Joey said with a mock pout. He unzipped his suitcase, pulling out the pair of jeans he knew Bryce loved and the sweater Sarah always complimented—something about bringing out his eyes—and tugged them on.
“Hey, I think I left something in the front pocket of your suitcase,” Bryce called from across the room, rifling through his own luggage for socks and a shirt.
Joey should have been suspicious. The front pocket of his suitcase had been the home to many of Bryce’s surprises since they’d gotten together over two years ago. Supplies to celebrate Bryce’s first goal with Miami and the Empires. The kids’ movie zine that they had finally almost completed. The dildo that was still in regular rotation at home. Other little gifts and trophies along the way.
But Joey was still tired from the long flight, still floating from the orgasm in the shower, and so he unzipped the front pocket without thinking, without asking what Bryce was looking for. There was a little rectangular bulge in the fabric and when his fingers brushed against it, it felt soft, softer even than Adam’s cat Shadow.
Wait a second.
Joey withdrew a small velvet box from the front pocket of his suitcase and just stared at it. His heart felt like it was trying to beat its way out of his chest.
He slowly turned toward Bryce, green eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. His jaw only dropped further when he saw his boyfriend—his big, beautiful golden teddy bear of a man—down on one knee, the biggest, goofiest grin on his face.
“What the fuck?” Joey managed, his voice high and breathy and not sounding like him at all.
“Joey,” Bryce began, his voice breaking, and that was when Joey’s vision started blurring. Not from panic, but from tears. Happy tears. Really fucking happy tears.
“Fuck, baby,” Bryce said, rubbing at his own damp eyes, “I had a whole speech and everything, but fuck it. Will you marry me?”
“Yes,” Joey squeaked out, the box still clutched in his hand, and Bryce beamed at him.
And then Joey was on top of him, knocking both of them back onto the carpet and he was kissing him, kissing him, kissing him. His Bry. His future husband, sprawled out on the terrible hotel carpet and looking up at him with so much love.
“You haven’t even seen the ring yet,” Bryce said with a wet laugh.
“I don’t care about the ring,” Joey said and his voice sounded fucking horrible, more of a croak than anything, “I just want you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“Forever?”
“Forever, baby,” Joey confirmed.
“Feel like you should see the ring, though,” Bryce said with a grin, pushing himself up to lean against the side of the bed, Joey still straddling his lap, “Since you’ll be wearing it forever.”
He gently pried the box out of Joey’s grip and opened it. The ring was nothing really fancy, just a gold band with four small rectangular gems inlaid equally around the circumference.
“You and the kids,” Joey said, brushing a finger over each tiny gem. No matter how the ring turned while worn, at least one of the stones would always be visible.
“And you,” Bryce said.
“How long has this been in my suitcase?” Joey asked as Bryce slipped it onto his finger. It was a perfect fit.
“It was in mine for most of the trip. I slipped it in yours when we got off the bus. When Adam was showing you cat pictures.”
“I love you,” Joey said, raising his newly adorned left hand to cup Bryce’s cheek. The gold of his new ring was a near perfect match with the color of his soon-to-be-husband’s beard.
“I love you too,” Bryce said, kissing him again, long and slow and sweet.
There was a series of rapid knocks at the door and Joey stiffened. At least until he heard a familiar giggle from just outside the door.
Bryce grinned, tipping his head down so that their foreheads were pressed together, “I think there are a few people who are very excited to see their Doey.”
Joey laughed, any tension from the knocks bleeding out of him with the sound. Bryce grinned and pressed a kiss to his new ring.
“I’ve got a matching one for me at home. And chains and silicon rings for during the season,” Bryce said as Joey got off of him and pulled him to his feet.
“I don’t want to take it off,” Joey admitted, looking down at it again. But a ring—any ring—would invite questions from their teammates. Even if he kept it strung around his neck, hidden under his shirt.
“Maybe soon you won’t have to,” Bryce said with another kiss to Joey’s temple. Then he was reaching for the door as the knocking started again in earnest.
Sam exploded through the door as soon as Bryce opened it, launching himself at his father and wrapping his arms around Bryce’s waist.
“Did you do it? Did you do it?” Sam asked, flailing a hand out to grab for Joey’s left hand. When Joey lifted it, the gems catching in the light, Sam cheered like he’d just won the Cup.
Emma stepped into the room with a roll of her eyes and wrapped her arms around Joey. When the fuck had she gotten so tall? He remembered when she was still mostly hugging his waist. Now, hugging her felt like hugging an adult.
“I’m so happy for you guys,” Sarah said, somehow wrangling all of them into her arms as the door closed behind her. Joey relaxed into the knot of the Schroeder family around him, so warm and welcoming and soon, officially his.
“Don’t worry,” Sarah said with a wink and an extra squeeze to Joey’s shoulder as she drew back, “I made sure he’s house trained for you.” Bryce stuck his tongue out at her for that and she blew a raspberry at him in response as Sam giggled.
“You don’t have a ring,” Emma said, frowning down at Bryce’s bare hand.
“It’s at home. I wanted to make sure he said yes,” Bryce said.
Emma rolled her eyes again, “Like there was any chance he wouldn’t.”
She slipped a hair tie off of her wrist, holding it out not to Bryce, but to Joey, “Here.”
Joey took it from her, his hands shaking a little. It felt far heavier in his hand than just a simple loop of elastic.
He took Bryce’s left hand in his, considering. Simply sliding the elastic around Bryce’s finger would be far too loose. Doubling it seemed like it might be a little too tight around Bryce’s thick finger. Might leave a mark there.
Joey wanted to leave a mark. A mark that this man was his.
Joey twisted the band until it was doubled—almost like an infinity sign, like forever—and slid it down Bryce’s ring finger. It was nearly a perfect fit, a little snug around the base.
“Perfect,” Bryce said, his voice catching his throat. And he was looking at Joey with so much fucking love in his eyes again and—
“Just kiss him,” Emma said in that bored teen monotone, but her Schroeder blue eyes were a little bright right now too.
So Joey did.