Chapter Text
Cliff Marlow has a problem and that problem is asleep in his bed at this moment. That problem is in the shape of a 6-foot-tall, blonde hockey player that is 8 years his junior. The problem isn't the player himself, it's the fact that Cliff has always thought of himself as a straight man. Apparently, a straight man with a weakness for floppy blonde hair, sparkly blue eyes, a shy smile and the hard body that comes with years of playing hockey at an elite level. The problem is stirring under his arm at this very moment and wiggling his ample hockey ass into Cliff's morning wood making it very hard to think of this as a problem at all. Cliff lets out a resigned sigh, rolls the problem over and kisses him soundly.
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It all started a year ago. Cliff was helping out at the Game Changers Hockey Camp that his best friend, Ilya Rozanov, and husband, Shane Hollander, run in the off season. Cliff and Roz were out for drinks one evening just catching up on what was new since Roz had left Boston to play for Ottawa. It had been a few years since they were on the same team, but the friendship was important enough that they had done their best to maintain it. They were about 6 vodkas deep into the evening when Roz started prattling on about how great it was to be married and how amazing his beautiful freckled husband was. It made Cliff's stomach twist. He had had more hook-ups than he could count and numerous girlfriends over the years but none of them had ever made him go gooey inside like Shane obviously did for his best friend. Cliff was grateful when the topic of conversation changed to the goings on of their respective teams. Cliff told a story about the young players on his team that stupidly went out and got matching tattoos after losing a heartbreaking game to Toronto to make themselves feel better (it didn't). Roz then regaled him with stories of his Rooks, who had actually joined the team a few years ago at this point, but they were his "children" nonetheless. It was obvious that he especially had a soft spot for Haas, the phenom from Switzerland. Roz was actually giggling when he told Cliff how the team had found out that Luca had had a poster of Ilya from his time with the Bears, and after a bit (or a lot) of prodding, had admitted that Ilya and Cliff had been his teenage crushes. Cliff had never had a guy admit that he had a crush on him before and it gave him an odd tingly feeling, hmm, that's weird.
The next session of camp was in Ottawa and Luca was assigned to coach with him for the kids who played forward. Cliff was sort of antsy to actually meet Luca outside of being his opponent. They, of course, had played against each other over the past few years and Cliff was more than aware that the "kid" was becoming a force to be reckoned with. He had been in the top ten in the scoring race last season and played on Shane's line and kept up with him, which is saying a lot. They had met a few times, but only in passing, and Cliff just clocked him as a nervous shy kid who blushed if anyone even looked at him.
When Luca walked into the coaches' locker room, Cliff almost dropped his water bottle. Gone was the gangly kid and there stood a young man with an air of confidence and twinkle in his eye. He did still blush when he caught Cliff staring at him, because he isn't too proud to admit that he was staring, but he wasn't awkward anymore. He was stunning. Camp went well for the most part, but Cliff felt like there was a magnetic pull towards Luca. He found himself keeping track of where he was on the ice, or seeking him out to chat during breaks and when the coaches got together one evening for a friendly poker game Cliff unconsciously ended up with his thigh pressed firmly up against Luca's under the table. Cliff tried to dismiss it. Tried to tell himself that it was nothing. Tried to tell himself Luca was just interesting and artistic and a great hockey player that Cliff just wanted to get to know him more. This wasn't a schoolboy crush. It couldn't be.
The preseason started and Luca was a distant memory. Cliff only thought about him a couple times a week, that's a normal amount, right? Cliff and Roz continued texting when they could. It's a little tougher to keep in touch when they are both team captains and are super busy, but they keep trying. Cliff started asking his friend about Luca. Just normal things, like what his drink of choice was or how does he pass the time on bus trips or does he like salty or sweet snacks after games? Roz never said anything about it and answered every question, but one day he just randomly sent Luca's contact info and message that read "just talk to him". Could Cliff do that? Could he randomly text a guy that he barely knew? Would that be weird? He couldn't, but he did save the number, just in case.
The regular season started and the Bears and Centaurs met up for their first game in Ottawa a few weeks in. Cliff found his eyes tracking Luca throughout the warm-up and the entirety of the game. They barely crossed paths on the ice, but Cliff, whenever possible, would check him into the boards and maybe, just maybe, press into him for an extra beat (or two) to see if he could get those cheeks to blush that pretty pink colour that he loved. The Centaurs won in overtime. Luca had assisted Shane for the winning goal. It was a beautiful pass. After the game, Cliff, along with St. Simon, Hammersmith, and Carmicheal, went out to Monk's to meet up with Roz. Most of the Centaurs were there as well. Cliff noticed Luca dancing with the rest of the Rooks in the back corner and flirting with a relatively attractive young man who wore a backwards hat and sparkles around his eyes. Cliff's stomach did a flip. Seeing Luca in his element, seeing him smile widely and dance close with someone else made his palms sweat. He tried his best to follow the conversation at the table with his teammates and former captain, but his mind and eye wandered. When Luca caught him staring from the dance floor and he gave him a flirtatious wink and licked his lips, Cliff just about blacked out as all the blood in his body rushed to his groin. At some point, Luca and sparkle-boy slipped out and Cliff ordered another drink. Damn
The following month, they played again but in Boston this time. The game was a lot like the last one. Cliff had tunnel vision and was targeting the young winger whenever he got the chance, but this time it seemed like it was going the other way too. Luca seemed to seek out Cliff on the ice just as often. When they met at the boards Cliff was often rewarded with a smile or a wink or that pink flush of his cheeks. After another close game, a bunch of players from both teams met up at a local club. The atmosphere was not great for conversation but the drinks flowed freely and the dancefloor was packed. Cliff found himself rather tipsy and in the throngs of hot sweaty bodies grinding away. There were so many cute, flirty women with tight bodies and big smiles vying for his attention (& the attention of most of the other hockey players), but Cliff was distracted by the blonde hockey player that kept glancing his way. There was a gravitational pull towards the group of young Centaurs. He was losing himself in the music when he felt the press of a body, not that much smaller than his own, up against his chest. Before he could overthink it, he reached his big hand out and placed it on the hip of the man in front of him, securing him in place. Luca seemed right at home with his back pressed right up against Cliff's front. Cliff, on the other hand, was trying not to think about how this situation was affecting the fit of his jeans. After a few songs, Cliff extracted himself and went outside to catch his breath and maybe spiral, just a bit. Luca followed him out after a few minutes. They had made small talk for a bit before Luca turned to him, grabbed a fist full of shirt and pulled him into a brief but insanely hot kiss that left Cliff breathless. Luca pressed his palm flat on Cliff's chest and gave him a wry smile before turning on his heel and going back into the club. Cliff leaned up against the brick wall to catch his breath and slow his racing heart. Then he called an Uber to take him home.
What was going on? Cliff was utterly exhausted but he couldn't fall asleep. His mind was racing and he was half-hard. He absentmindedly pressed his fingers to his lips. He had never kissed a man before. Luca was very pretty with his sparkling blue eyes and his pink cheeks and his wavy blonde hair, but there was no mistaking it, he was very much a man. Cliff wasn't used to kissing someone who was only a few inches shorter than him. Someone who had shoulders almost as broad as him. Someone with stubble and muscles and angles instead of softness and curves. He grabbed his phone and pulled up Luca's contact. He wanted so much to ask why he had kissed him. Could they do it again? Was Luca thinking about him right now, too? He typed out a message and then deleted it, again and again and again. Finally, he threw the phone on the bed and rolled over and slept fitfully for the next few hours until his alarm went off to get up for practice.
A four-game road trip was a great distraction. The Bears won 3 of 4 and Cliff had seen a few of his favourites on his "roster". There was Claire in St. Louis, Amanda in Edmonton, Zoe in Vancouver and Amy in Winnipeg. They were all fun, all blond, all cute and all too small and too soft to satisfy Cliff's craving. What was going on? Why had this Swiss kid buried himself into Cliff's brain? Why was he so affected by a guy who he only saw every few months for a few hours and had only kissed once?
The season progressed and both teams were having a lot of success on the ice. By the time they were finally back in Ottawa for a game, Cliff had worked up the nerve. He was going to talk to Luca. Not just small talk. Like actually, talk. Cliff couldn't even tell you how the game went. He cannot remember anything before the moment he was standing at the front door of Monk's hyping himself up to walk through. When he entered the bar, he saw a bunch of his teammates and a bunch of the Centaurs. It was nice that they left it all on the ice and could be friendly afterwards, win or lose. Cliff stopped at the bar to grab a cider and then leaned against it scanning the room looking for Luca. He spotted him in a quieter corner, sitting by himself with his sketchbook out on the table. He watched for a few minutes, noticing the cute look of concentration on his face. Luca must have felt the eyes on him because a moment later he was looking at Cliff, giving him a smile and nodding at the empty seat beside him. Cliff took another swig from his cider, a deep breath and made his way to the back corner of the bar. Luca invited him to sit down in the semi-circular booth so he did. The conversation was a bit tentative at first, the game, the season, Luca's sketch of Chiron, the team dog that he was drawing for Troy and Harris. Then things got easier and they talked for hours. They talked about everything and nothing. Drinks were refilled a few times and the space between them kept shrinking. Finally, when almost all the other players had left, Luca turned and asked Cliff if he was indeed flirting with him. Cliff admitted that, yes, he was. Luca then smiled shyly and asked if he wanted to go back to his place to continue the conversation. Yes, more than anything.
That night at Luca's was nothing short of amazing. Luca was very aware that this was uncharted territory for Cliff and was extremely accommodating. Cliff was very experienced in the bedroom, so the actual sex wasn't an issue. In fact, it was mind blowing. They explored each other's bodies. They talked and laughed. Cliff felt so lucky to have this very pretty boy under him as he put him through the mattress. It was amazing to be with someone he could manhandle and throw around. He could be both rough and soft, both dominant and sensual. It was a heady mix. It made Cliff's mind swim and his stomach twist and a heat spread from his spine to his limbs. In that room, nothing else mattered. The age difference didn't matter. The fact that Luca was his best friend's star "rookie" didn't matter. The fact that they were on different teams didn't matter. The fact that this man was, in fact, a man and Cliff was straight(?), didn't matter. It was a quiet little corner of the world where Cliff could just be Cliff and enjoy Luca without the outside world looking in. As Cliff was getting dressed to leave, Luca suggested that they exchange numbers. He couldn't bring himself to admit that he already had the younger man's contact for months now or how many messages had been almost sent in that time.
Cliff met up with the team in the lobby of the hotel before they went to the airport to catch their flight home. Victor St. Simon grinned at him and marched over and asked if he had a good night. Cliff affirmed the assumption and Vic said that was good, because it had been a while since he saw his Captain so relaxed and obviously happy. He didn't offer up any of the details of his amazing night and Vic didn't pry. Would his teammates be okay with it? Would they see him differently? Most people had come around to Hunter, Barrett and Roz & Hollzy, but would it be different for him and a much younger player? As Cliff absentmindedly pressed his fingertips into the mark Luca had left on his collarbone, he pulled out his phone and texted him. He wasn't sure what he was, because he wasn't interested in other guys, now or really ever in the past, but he couldn't stop thinking about Luca. He thought it was bad before, but now that he had held him in his arms and kissed down the hard planes of his washboard abs and looked up at his flushed face as he rode him through a mind-blowing orgasm, Cliff was a goner. He was down bad for this boy. Did Luca like him back? He was young and hot and could have anyone he wanted. Would he want an older guy with a bum shoulder? Would he be okay with a guy who wasn't gay (who maybe wasn't really straight either)? Was this just living out a teenage fantasy that was now checked off and he could move on? Would he want to try to make it work with them living so far apart? Slow down. It was one night!
There hadn't been a response before Cliff had to turn on airplane mode, but he was rewarded with one when he landed back in Boston. Cliff didn't want to unload his insecurities onto Luca so he kept the conversation light. He was going for casual and a bit flirty. He really hoped that he was pulling it off. Over the next couple months, their conversation flowed naturally. Interrupted by practices, flights, games and life in general, but they talked every day. Talking with Luca became the highlight of his day. He looked forward to it more than he would ever admit to anyone. His face lit up when he heard his phone bing and knew that more than once his teammates clocked him smiling and blushing at the phone in his hand - very reminiscent of Rozanov circa 2015. And in between messages, Luca would pop into his thoughts constantly. Would Luca like this pasta dish? Which side of the bed does he prefer? Does he like scented or unscented laundry detergent? He also thought a lot about sex and what he wanted to do to the pretty boy. And every time he thought of that kid, his heart would squeeze a bit and his insides felt gooey. It was Luca, in the end, that broached the subject that was always on Cliff's mind. He asked flat out if Cliff was interested in him "like that" or was he just a casual experiment. Cliff felt awful that Luca had been wondering that. This was not some midlife crisis or sexual experiment, Cliff genuinely liked Luca. Like "really liked" Luca. He got the courage and typed just that. They talked out all of their concerns. Cliff couldn't promise a "coming out" because he still couldn't wrap his head around what he was when Luca seemed to be an exception to the rule, but he could promise honesty, trust and caring. They decided that they would continue on as they were – seeing each other when they could and talking everyday. And maybe in the off-season, they could spend some more time together in the same location to figure things out.
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And that is where Cliff is now. In a rental apartment, in Montreal, the night before this year's Game Changers Camp starts. He looks down at the beautiful man in his arms and makes a decision – this is not a problem. He looks at Luca and asks "Hard launch?" who answers with "Hell yeah!" So, Cliff grabs his phone, snaps a picture of them smiling, rumpled and obviously flushed with that post-sex glow. He types a quick caption, posts it to all of his socials and turns off his phone. He might not know what he is, but he knows that he and his heart belong to Luca Haas.