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    Topher Lydon
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Carter's Shadow - 22. Chapter 22

Practice was strained; game night was approaching and the team wouldn't pull together. Jensen's line changes were slow, dragging behind the rest of the team. West had expected something to happen. The fact was that most of the team was squarely behind him, fighting hard even at the practice to prove something, not just to him, but to themselves as well.

Highmore inevitably skated across the ice blowing his whistle, and gesturing for the team to cluster around the bench.

"Okay, what the hell is going on?" he asked, pushing his hair from his eyes as he stared directly at Jensen's line where they were sitting defiantly on the bench glaring back at him.

"Nothing, Coach!" Jensen bit off between clenched teeth.

"Yeah?" Highmore replied resting on his stick studying the young man. "You hope to be captain next year, right?" he asked, his sapphire eyes sparkling.

"Yeah Coach?" Jensen's ears perked up as he looked up.

"You want it?" Highmore asked quietly.

"Yeah, Coach." Jensen nodded.

"Then get your finger out of your ass, get on the ice and give me a good reason to make you captain; because with the performance you're giving today, I'd sooner give it to a cheerleader!" Highmore stepped back, casting open the small door that led to the ice and gestured outwards.

West and his line skated back in, switching neatly with the third line. West clumped on his skates to reach for a bottle of water, looking up as Highmore stood watching him.

"Coach?" he asked.

Highmore glanced at the other players and dropped his voice to avoid being overheard by them. "I can't help you with this," he said, leaning back on the boards as a puck whistled by him.

"I know," West said with a nod, knowing it was his fight, just another of many that he had to wade through. It seemed as though his life had suddenly become so difficult, not from his own doing, but from the perceptions of others. He wasn't just battling them, he seemed to be fighting hundreds of years of prejudice just to prove he was exactly the same person he had been before the infamous three little words.

I am gay.

"But can I give you some advice?" Highmore leaned a little closer. "If you were good before, be better." He looked about, "Not for them, but for you."

* * *

Tony was skating lazily around the parking lot when West came out of practice, the early evening light setting a beautiful backdrop to the young man who effortlessly swept around the blue Ford Bronco and slid to a stop just in front of the tired hockey player.

"Hey," Tony said, lazily back skating a little as West walked over to the truck to load his gear into the back.

"Hey," West replied, mildly surprised. "What are you doing all the way out here?"

"Your brother said you had practice tonight," Tony smiled his simply shy smile, "so I figured why not stop by and say hi."

West smiled as he leaned on the back of the truck. "Hi," he said roguishly.

Tony looked about at the other players coming out of the area to their own cars, or to their parents waiting to drive them home after practice, "I would say a proper hello but there's a tonne of people around."

"Shy?" West teased with a grin.

"Yeah," Tony admitted smirking, "not quite ready for PDA's yet."

"Personal digital assistants?" West asked, slightly confused.

"Public displays of affection," Tony explained.

"Right," West snapped his fingers. "Still trying to learn the terms..."

"Hey West!" Matt called, crashing through the doors of the arena, dropping his sticks clumsily. He uttered a curse and picked them up, juggling them in his hands with his bag in an effort not to drop everything again. "West!" he called again.

"Yeah?" West answered, turning to face his best friend.

"Can I get a lift home?" Matt asked breathlessly walking up.

"Sure," West smiled, "if you don't mind riding in the back." He turned, "Tony, my best bud, Matt. Matt, this is Tony."

"Nice to meet you," Matt said, sticking out his hand as he dropped his sticks again.

Tony grinned and shook the pre-offered hand, bending down to scoop up the fallen sticks that he then loaded into the back alongside West's. "So how was practice?" he asked, looking up at West again.

"You don't want to know." West heaved a long ragged breath.

"One of our teammates is being an ass," Matt explained. "He's from a Baptist family... you know, a bit of a hard-core upbringing, and..." he shrugged, glancing at West.

West shook his head, "No, don't blame his religion, he's just been brought up to think it's wrong. It's not his fault." He walked back to the front of the truck, "Let's just get out of here?"

"Sure." Tony swept around on his blades, before clambering up awkwardly into the passenger seat. Matt piled into the back, eagerly leaning on the shoulders of the front two seats so he didn't miss out on the conversation.

"So how do you know West?" Matt asked, changing the subject.

"Oh...well..." Tony struggled for a second, "I'm a friend of his brother."

"Cool," Matt bobbed his head. "So..." He tapped a beat on the back of the chairs as West drove out onto the streets.

West glanced at Tony, who in turn glanced at West. The pair smiled and blushed at the same time.

Matt, catching the looks and the reactions rolled his eyes. "Aww no, this is your boyfriend?" He made a gagging sound in the back, "When are you two gonna stop looking at each other and get down to the hard-core man-on-man action, and can I watch?"

Tony blinked and turned slowly to stare back at the wide-eyed and grinning short guy in the back of the truck, "Huh?"

"Don't mind him," West reassured. "Matt's our resident horn-dawg."

"That's 'Mister' Horn-Dawg to you!" Matt retorted, turning his head to watch a couple of young ladies walking up the road. "And I don't want to participate, I just want to watch you kiss..."

Tony laughed, "Oh, he's a voyeur?"

"No, he's a pervert," West said with a long sigh. "We just ignore him for the most part."

"I don't know, he's cute," Tony said, looking back at the still grinning winger. "I'd do him."

Matt's smile froze, as he rubbed his ear. "'scuse me?" he asked.

"I said I'd have sex with you," Tony said with a grin. "You don't have to watch, you know."

"I...errr..." Matt flustered, taken off guard by someone actually calling his bluff.

"Well, see, you don't want to," Tony pointed out, "or you would have said yes." He turned back to West, "Ahh well, looks like it's just you and me kissing tonight."

West chuckled, glancing up into the rear-view mirror at the still-surprised Matt. Understanding now--Matt was about shock value; he used sex and sexuality as a way to get a reaction out of people. Tony had neatly called his bluff, and for the first time Matt was speechless. But West knew from experience it wouldn't last.

Matt suddenly broke out into another grin and leaned forward. "You think I'm cute?" he asked eagerly.

Tony turned to look at Matt, and then over to a laughing West.

"I warned you," West said pointedly.

"Well, what's cute about me?" Matt asked, looking down at himself and up again at Tony.

"Well," Tony said, shifting around to get a better look, "you have a natural tan, with dark hair and these blue-blue eyes; nice mix, a little unusual. You have a great complexion and could probably get away with some male modelling if you weren't so..."

"...short." West said, skipping the political correctness Tony was searching for.

"I'm not short!" Matt fired back, "I'm a sub-compact!"

All three of them laughed, as West continued to drive through the evening streets of Merrickville, heading first to drop Matt off at his place. He was enjoying the evening; Tony and Matt seemed to get on well, which was good. He valued Matt's opinion, and was relieved that Tony had passed the first 'inspection'.

Once Matt was safely dropped off, and West was finally alone with Tony, he pulled the truck over to the side of the road, to lean across and steal a kiss. Tony relaxed into the kiss and returned it fully, under a street lamp in spring. West discovered that he liked kissing--it satisfied a craving he didn't know he had--and he playfully battled Tony's tongue for supremacy.

"S-stop!" Tony said, coming up for air, as he laughed at West. "Easy, tiger," he commented, as he straightened his T-shirt that West had managed to get un-tucked.

"Sorry," West grinned in return. He had been getting carried away and they were on the side of the road under a street lamp.

"I-I want to..." Tony said, nodding down to his shirt, and smiling up again. "I'd love to... but... you know... let's not rush it."

West nodded, "Yeah, sorry; I've never ... I mean I haven't been... well, carried away like that before."

"It's all good," Tony reassured shifting around in his seat. "So am I?"

"What?" West asked.

"What Matt said, about me being your boyfriend, am I?" Tony asked, a smile playing across his face.

West nodded. "Yeah," he said without hesitation. "Yeah."

Tony grinned, "So this means I get to take you out on dates and stuff."

"Yep," West nodded, "but actually I was going to ask what you're doing Saturday night."

"I'm washing my hair," Tony grinned. "Just kidding, I'm free--what did you have in mind?"

"Well, Joey wants me to come watch you guys skate on Friday; I was thinking Saturday we could go to a movie, just the two of us?" West looked hopeful.

"Sure, so long as it's not one of those chick flicks," Tony warned. "A comedy or action please, nothing I need a box of Kleenex to get through."

"Aww," West grinned, "I was kinda hoping to comfort you if you started to cry."

"You just want to cop a feel of my bum again," Tony retorted. "I'm onto you, Mister Harding."

"Well, it was a bit like squeezing freshly baked French bread..."

"My 'buns' are not for squeezing, don't touch what you aren't gonna buy."

West reached into the change tray of the Bronco and pulled out a penny. "Here," he flipped it into Tony's lap.

"Great, so now I'm cheap," Tony said holding up the penny. "I figure I'm worth at least a dollar."

"A whole dollar?" West shook his head. "You're just being greedy-- a quarter maybe."

"Hmmm," Tony thought about it a moment and glanced at West. "How about I just let you keep a running tab?" He leaned forward and the two kissed again, and West's hand again strayed to the tempting shirt line. The hand seemed possessed, and he drew back to stare at it, as it nudged up and under the shirt to touch the slight hint of a treasure trail Tony had on his abdomen.

"Ahem!" Tony cleared his throat.

West looked up, innocently, "Yes?"

"I think you just strayed into the demilitarised zone again." Tony glanced down, to where West's hands tickled his tummy.

West stared down at them. He was very aware of Tony at that moment--the slight coarseness of those hairs, the silken smoothness of the soft skin, the rough ridges of the plaid boxers, the denim jeans that covered a suggestive bulge a couple of inches from his fingers. A simple move and...

He pulled his hand back, and looked up, shaking his head to clear the daze.

Tony was looking at him, openly amused, "Temptation, gotta love it."

"I'm sorry..." West said shaking his head, "I..."

"Oh, I know what you were thinking," Tony replied easily. "I don't mind. Just, I want to wait, and I know you do too. But we're both teenagers with our hormones running amuck..."

West chuckled at the thought of the Muppets running amuck amuck amuck... the word always made him think of them for some strange reason.

"... But still, it's got to be special." Tony said, sounding shyly insistent. "You know... right."

"Yeah," West agreed, realizing how much he was growing to like Tony, not just from a physical aspect, but for the character he was displaying, for possessing a similar set of beliefs to his own. That random casual sex wasn't the answer--there needed to be more behind it to make it all worthwhile.

"You're going to be late home for supper," Tony observed.

"Probably," West admitted. "Should I drive you home first?"

"Nah," Tony said, "I can get back all right on my own; I just wanted to see you tonight and couldn't wait for the weekend."

"So where do I drop you, then?" West asked.

"Back at the arena?" Tony asked hopefully.

"Sure." West turned the truck and returned through the town towards the arena, dropping Tony off with a last kiss good night, as he prepared to set out again. He stopped when he noticed the figure sitting on the steps of the arena.

"Coach?" West asked, pulling up and leaning out of the window.

Andrew Highmore looked up from his book, pushing his hair out of his eyes and blinking in surprise.

"West," he greeted, folding the book, keeping a finger to mark his place. To West, Highmore looked so different wearing his reading glasses, more intellectual.

"I..." West glanced at Tony who was skating away up the street, "are you waiting for someone?"

Andrew glanced at his watch, and shrugged, "My ride's late."

"Mister Carter," West assumed aloud.

"It's fine," Highmore said, shifting on the steps. "Beautiful night and I have a book. So it's no big deal."

"Do you want a lift?" West offered.

Highmore considered it a moment. "There are some things the school would frown on, that's probably one of them."

"Yeah," West shrugged, "but I'm here and you need a ride; I don't think they'll mind."

Highmore studied him a moment and nodded, "You might be right, but I should do the responsible thing and just wait here."

"Then I'll wait with you," West said, switching off his motor and leaning on the door.

They both sat in silence awhile, till Highmore looked up at him again, "So, who's the new guy?"

"Tony," West replied. "I'm kinda seeing him, I guess."

"Right," Highmore replied nodding. "Seems decent enough."

"I like him," West replied, thoughtfully. "He's pretty cool, fun to be with and..." he stopped and glanced down at Highmore, "he kisses good."

"You know what I said about topics we shouldn't discuss?" Highmore said in amusement.

"How did you know you were in love with Mister Carter?" West asked, looking into Andrew's eyes.

"Ahh," Highmore sighed, knowing full well the tenacious student wasn't about to be deterred by a few school rules. He sighed and set his book down, taking off his glasses.

"Ever get a flash of pure understanding?" he asked. "A moment of perfect clarity where everything just makes sense?"

West shook his head, "Not yet..."

"You will," Highmore reassured. "It was like that for me when I first saw Carter. It took me awhile to understand it, and Carter didn't want anything to do with me at first. I kind of dragged him out of the closet kicking and screaming."

"Really?" West asked grinning.

"Well, I fell in love with him," Highmore said, "and at first Carter was very... uncertain to what he wanted, and didn't know what I wanted. It was a bit of a mess at the start." He smiled, "But the best relationships are the ones you don't expect."

"Yeah," West said, looking down a moment, and up thoughtfully in the direction that Tony had skated off in.

"What I mean is, you'll just know," Highmore reassured. "You'll just know."

Copyright © 2010 By Christopher Patrick Lydon; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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