See the Light (2 page)

The next day, Patrick was more confused than ever. He’d found himself watching Jason like a hawk, and Jason appeared to be having a great time, streaking up and down the ice during drills in the morning and working his ass off in the afternoon scrimmage. He was quick to smile and laugh, but the couple of times Patrick noticed that when Jason glanced his way as Patrick sat a few rows up from the benches, his smile had faded and he’d turned away. Never before had a player responded to Patrick that way, not while he was playing, and certainly not now that he was serving in an advisory capacity for USA Hockey and as a scout for Philly during the season.

Despite Jason’s apparent dislike of him, though, Patrick was drawn to him. When he looked down at his notes and realized the legal pad in front of him was virtually blank, and that what notes he’d managed to jot down were almost exclusively dedicated to Jason, he rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger while silently castigating himself.

In the logical part of his brain, he knew there was a possibility a player wouldn’t like him or wouldn’t jibe with him at some point in his career. Despite that, for some reason it bothered him a whole hell of a lot. Jason was a player he respected tremendously. Yes, he was young, but also incredibly talented. He had a great future ahead of him.

He told his dick to shut up. Patrick had played with and been around goodlooking, well-toned professional athletes for years. The guy’s physical makeup shouldn’t even be entering into his thought process. But it was.
Shit
. Not having a hot guy such as Jason like him was hard on a gay man’s ego, especially since Patrick wasn’t exactly a young man himself anymore. With a sigh, he tore his gaze away from Jason and forced himself to observe the other guys.

When Jason was still acting squirrelly the next day, Patrick caught up with him in the hallway outside the trainers’ room. He was losing his mind. He had to know what was up with the kid. For the past two days he’d been racking his brain, trying to figure out what he could possibly have done to bring about this change in the man’s attitude.

Patrick took a deep breath. Instead of relaxing him, the clean, woodsy scent of Jason’s cologne flooded his nostrils, and he barely held in an agonized groan. “What’s up with you?” His question came out harsher than he’d intended, and he sighed.

The younger man wouldn’t meet his gaze, and Patrick tried to rein in his temper. What the fuck was going on?

“This,” Patrick answered, gesturing toward Jason. “Did I do something to piss you off?”

Jason’s eyes were shadowed with an unreadable emotion when he finally looked at Patrick. “No.”

“Then what’s with the attitude?” One eyebrow rose. “Attitude?” Patrick crowded him a little, and

Jason immediately retreated, his back hitting the wall behind him.
What the fuck? Is he afraid of me?
The concept seemed ridiculous, but otherwise, why would he be acting this way?
“This,” Patrick repeated, poking Jason in the chest. “You won’t look at me, you won’t talk to me, and now you look like someone just made you eat something that smelled bad.” Jason’s throat worked, and Patrick frowned. “I don’t understand what I did, but we’re going to be working closely over the next couple of months, and I don’t want there to be some weird rift between us.”
Crossing his arms over his chest in the scant distance between them, Jason replied, “There’s nothing. I’m fine.”
A lesser man would’ve been cowed by the threatening stance the younger man had taken, but Patrick was used to hockey players beating their chests. It didn’t faze him, despite the fact that Jason was about six-two and easily over two hundred pounds. Patrick was a few inches shorter and, at this point, probably twenty pounds lighter, but Jason being bigger kind of turned him on. Really, if anything, Patrick should be afraid of Jason, not the other way around.
Looking at the other man’s face just a hairbreadth away, Patrick noticed how close they were standing, especially since Jason had crossed his arms. His treacherous dick twitched. At the moment Jason was clad in a pair of sweat shorts that no doubt showed his ass to great effect and a skintight USA Hockey T-shirt, his large feet clad in the sandals most of the players wore around the locker-room area. Those muscular arms, still crossed over his mouthwatering chest, were lightly dusted with dark hair, as were his legs.
Patrick was practically plastered to the other man, not having wanted to look weak by backing down himself, and when Jason met his gaze once more, Patrick barely stifled a gasp. Heat lurked in the kid’s eyes, much as he no doubt tried to disguise it. There was no mistaking the way his pupils were lust blown. It was next to impossible to hide if someone were looking closely, and Patrick was. Was he gay? Even more alarming—did he know Patrick was too? Was that the reasoning behind the look Patrick had just intercepted?
This just got pretty fucking complicated.
Patrick was decidedly
not
out, and apparently his gaydar was shot to shit too, since he’d had no clue about Jason’s sexuality until it had become clear in his gaze. Eyes didn’t lie, and Jason’s said he was interested. Patrick paused, trying to get his head on straight. If Jason
was
gay, he wasn’t out either. Patrick was pretty sure he would’ve heard if a player in the pros had gone public with his homosexuality.
Should he say something? He was practically one of the kid’s coaches. If he were a better man, he would be giving advice rather than trying like hell to figure out how to get into the guy’s pants. But Patrick wasn’t a better man. He was a horny, ridiculously turned-on man, who obviously had a thing for this kid.
Stepping a little closer still—not enough to rouse suspicions should anyone come upon the two of them, but enough to better assess what was going through Jason’s mind and, if he was honest with himself, to experience that little thrill of attraction he’d missed so much lately—Patrick took a good look at the man in front of him. Jason might be younger than he by over fifteen years, but he wasn’t built like a kid. No, Jason was closer to a tank, and that had always been Patrick’s type. He wasn’t a fan of feeling like he was going to break some little twink in half.

Jason’s hair was dark brown and cut in one of those fashionable styles when it wasn’t plastered to his head after a hard practice like they’d had today. He also had full lips and a square jaw. For a younger man, his facial hair grew quickly, and his neck, jaw, and cheeks were covered in a thick scruff, even though Patrick knew the man had been clean shaven as per USA Hockey regulations for the team picture only two days ago.

Patrick wasn’t usually attracted to younger guys, but he had to admit, Jason had a certain magnetism that no doubt drew men and women alike to him. Eyes the color of honey were currently darting all over as if the man was looking for an escape hatch, and with no small amount of regret, Patrick took a step back. He now had a pretty good idea of what Jason’s problem was, but he refused to embarrass the kid by saying or doing anything, especially here.

There was no good way to end this awkward-as-hell encounter, though, and Patrick searched his mind for something nonthreatening to say. “Just promise me you’ll tell me if there’s something I ever say or do that makes you uncomfortable.”

Jason nodded, staring at the floor. “Can I go now?”
He retreated another step. “Of course.”
Without another word, Jason fled, and Patrick had to resist the urge to allow the wall to hold him up. He didn’t need to read a book on the principles of coaching to know that having an attraction to a player was bad news, especially one as young as Jason. Sure, he was well above legal at the age of twenty-two, but many would only see the large age difference and vilify Patrick.

What just happened?
Jason hurried along the corridor like a fire raged just behind him, and in many ways it did. When Patrick cornered him, Jason’s entire body had reacted, and he’d been forced to attempt to hide his rampant arousal by pitching his torso away and folding his arms. He wasn’t entirely sure he’d been successful, though, and he wondered what the older man thought of him now.
All Jason could hope was that Patrick wouldn’t notice his dick jump every time Patrick drew near. If this kept up, he was going to have to find an anonymous hookup sooner rather than later. He’d been hoping he could make it until he got back home, but it was becoming increasingly clear he’d have to scratch the itch. His dick certainly wasn’t cooperating, and it was only a matter of time before someone noticed. Jason didn’t have any idea where the gay bars in the area were, and certainly not which ones would be best for a quick, anonymous lay. It wasn’t exactly something he could stroll up to the concierge’s desk at the hotel and ask about.
That very night, he found himself standing just inside the door of a club he’d fortunately been able to find online. He’d stopped in the hotel gift shop and gotten a Chicago Cubs baseball cap, which was currently pulled low over his eyes, and he’d made sure he wasn’t wearing anything that identified him as a professional hockey player. Between the nondescript clothes and the partial beard obstructing his face, he hoped no one would recognize him.
Jason was still new to the league, this being his second season in the pros, and still enjoyed a degree of anonymity, especially when away from New Jersey, but you could never be too careful when you were about to try snagging a hookup in a gay club. He hated trolling through clubs for a quick suck or fuck, but it was what he usually had to resort to. If he didn’t find someone tonight, he feared he might do something really fucking stupid, like drop to his knees in front of Patrick and offer to suck his cock. And Jason d i d
not
suck cock. He got his cock sucked.
Since he’d discovered he was gay, Jason had been a top all the way, but something about Patrick made him want to bend over and offer his ass to the man. Being fucked required a level of trust Jason wasn’t about to give freely. In fact, he hadn’t had that with anyone since he’d been briefly reunited a couple of summers ago with one of his fuck buddies whom he’d met when they were both playing juniors. It was the only time he’d ever had a sexual relationship of any kind with someone in the hockey world, and Jason had still refused to bottom.
Taking a deep breath, Jason made his way through the semicrowded club to the bar and ordered a beer. The bartender slid the bottle toward him, and Jason did his best not to make eye contact. A few moments later, the bartender came back and jerked his head slightly to the side. “If you’re looking for a hookup, I think you’ve got a willing partner.”
Jason glanced down the bar. A twink, no more than five-three or four and probably one thirty soaking wet, was shyly smiling at him. “What do you know about him?”
The bartender shrugged and then grinned. “I fucked him a few weeks ago. Tight ass.”
“Is he in here a lot?”
“Nah. A few times a month, maybe. He likes the guys with muscles.”
The man swept a hand up and down in front of him, and Jason grunted in response.
“He’s a good guy, and you look like you could use some stress relief.”
Tipping the bottle back, Jason drained it of its contents, caught the twink’s eye, and headed toward the back. Once they were in the bathroom, Jason pulled the kid into a stall and hardly had the door latched before the twink had fallen to his knees and begun unzipping his jeans. Before he got carried away and went to town, Jason grabbed a condom out of his pocket.
They tasted gross, but he knew nothing about this kid and needed to protect himself. The kid took the hint, quickly sheathing Jason’s rapidly hardening dick before diving onto the thing. Jason’s head briefly fell back against the stall wall behind him, but then he hurried to hunch forward once more to better hide his identity.
The kid sucked him for a bit, but when Jason opened his eyes, all he saw was Patrick. His hips jerked as he came fast and hard.
“Fuck!”
Pulling off him, the twink looked up, his eyes round. “Did I hurt you?”
“No, but I need to go. I’m sorry.” Jason began to put himself back together, tossing the condom in the conveniently provided trash can in the stall and not looking at the other man.
“I don’t understand.”
“I just…I can’t. I’m sorry.” Rushing out of the bathroom, Jason cursed himself inwardly. What was wrong with him? He didn’t stop until he was outside, holding his shaking hand up to hail a cab. After jumping into the backseat, Jason shook his head. What a colossal disaster.
Once back in his room, he got in the shower, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t forget that what had set him off hadn’t been the twink sucking him down like he was in the Sahara Desert and Jason’s cock was the only source of water, but rather just the flash he saw of Patrick’s face. With a growl, Jason stomped out of the shower, dried off, threw the towel in the corner of the bathroom, and then crawled into bed. Sleep was a long time in coming.

Patrick’s head was about to explode. He was so horny he could practically taste it, but he was currently stuck in interminable meetings about how to handle specific team issues before the Olympics started. By the time he finally got back to his own room, he was about ready to punch something. Instead he threw himself on the bed, pushed his track pants down just enough to pull out his throbbing hard-on, and then yanked up his T-shirt.

Immediately he wrapped his thumb and index finger around his dick, looking for the tight fit he knew would get the job done quickly. Normally he preferred to tease and stroke slowly, but the cum sizzling in his balls was making that impossible.

He moaned as the first few hard tugs had his ass arching off the bed. Closing his eyes, a picture of Jason’s hot mouth wrapped around his cock assailed him, and he let out a tortured groan. Patrick knew exactly what he’d do if he had the younger man in his bed. His fingers itched to plow into Jason’s hair as he pushed his erection farther into the man’s mouth until the head bumped the soft palate.