Page 60 of Offensive Edge
“Say more.”
“I’ll just send you the extremely embarrassing video,” Rowan said, resigned. He knew Felix would get it out of him eventually, and just relenting now meant he didn’t have to describe it. “My phone is dying, by the way.”
“Alright, babe. I’m so proud of you. I love you. Invite me to your Cup day.”
“Obviously.”
“Tell Theo congrats too, alright?”
They ended their call and Rowan shot off that stupid fucking video in the split second before his phone died. He slipped it into the pocket of his shorts and picked up the Cup, heading in the back door to a party that was still alive and well in the kitchen and living room. He set the Cup down in front of Mateo, who immediately poured a beer in it. Behind him, Rowan noticed that one of the keepers of the Cup had followed him inside, keeping an eye on the trophy at all times. What a job.
He slapped backs, told people to find a moment to sleep, and headed upstairs. Catcalls followed. Theo had just gone upstairs. They weren’t being subtle. It was kind of nice that they didn’t have to be anymore. At least not with the team.
Theo’s bedroom door was closed, but when Rowan let himself in, locking the door behind him, he found the bathroom door cracked, and the shower running. Rowan stripped out of his clothes and put them in a pile he might burn later, then headed in to find Theo waiting for him, wet and gorgeous.
“Felix says congrats.”
Theo smiled and took Rowan’s hand as he stepped into the shower.
“I think we probably need two showers,” Theo said. He looked like he had already soaped up, his pale skin pink and scrubbed raw, and Rowan let his eyes fall closed as Theo pulled him close to his chest, and began running a soapy loofah over his shoulders, his back, down to his ass. He brought his arms up around Theo’s neck and let Theo wash him, his gentle touches making his body react in a predictable way.
“Mmm,” he said as one of Theo’s soapy fingers trailed down between his cheeks to press ever so lightly against his hole. His hips jerked as his growing erection looked for friction.
“Have you ever gotten a handy from a Stanley Cup Champion?” Theo asked, his fingers wrapping around Rowan’s length. Rowan gasped against his neck and bucked into Theo’s grip.
“N-no,” Rowan stuttered. What he wanted was for Theo to take him apart for the next several hours, but he knew they were both too tired for that.
“Well, then, let me show you what I’ve got.”
Rowan let himself make just enough noise for Theo to hear him and no one else as he stroked him firmly, rolling his palm over the head of Rowan’s dick every few strokes. Rowan didn’t want it to end, but he was already feeling shaky on his feet. He’d made it through more hockey games than he thought possible with his ankle sprain. He wanted to curl up with Theo in a real bed and sleep for a week, so when Theo’s movements sped up, he didn’t try to focus on lasting longer. Rowan just let himself relax and let the orgasm roll through him, as his come landed on Theo’s thigh and got washed away almost immediately.
Theo pulled him into a kiss as he wrapped Rowan’s hand around his own erection, and closed his own fist over Rowan’s skin, using Rowan’s hand to jerk himself off tight and fast. He was just as impatient as Rowan had been, so Rowan just focused on kissing him as wet and slutty as he knew how to until Theo grunted, and severalfucksleft his mouth. Rowan got one more kiss, then the quickest shampoo known to man since they had forgotten before they turned their focus to sex.
Slipping under the sheets after a shower, feeling clean and warm and loved, knowing the Stanley Cup that they won together was in the same house as them, felt better than anything Rowan could have ever imagined. Did the Cup make not having Theo in his life for eight years worth it? No. He’d trade the trophy for all that lost time in a heartbeat, and he fell asleep knowing that was the truth.
It was still pretty nice, though.
CHAPTER30
THEO
The daysafter winning the Cup were a blur of excitement and exhaustion. Theo wasn’t sure how he made it through, pulling energy from sources he didn’t know he had. He felt like his body was about to shut off after they finally won. Thankfully, his shoulder injury resulted in nothing beyond some swelling and soreness.
Theo had never pictured the Stanley Cup parade when he had fantasized about winning the Cup. His dreams focused on the moment on ice when he lifted the Cup over his head. The parade, though, was a literal victory lap, and it felt incredible to see their fans all show up for them. He was secretly pleased to see so many number 13 and 27 jerseys with FOLEY and LANE on the back moving in pairs, like everyone knew the two of them belonged together.
He and Rowan had almost been split up on different fire trucks before the parade started, but Rowan grabbed his wrist and gave the parade coordinator a death stare. Theo was grateful for it. He didn’t want to spend any moment celebrating this victory without Rowan.
Rowan had his camera around his neck, and with the huge smile he’d been sporting and the number 13 on the back of his jersey, Theo could have sworn they were seventeen again.
Theo had already seen half a dozen articles online about the two of them, with then-and-now photos that were making his head spin. The first questions Theo answered after they won were about Rowan, and in the coming days, he knew that the two of them were scheduled for a joint interview. There was talk of them going back to Michigan that summer to visit the Jaguars arena again, so the NHL could produce a feature on them.
There was a sea of people alongside Park Avenue, and even though it wasn’t quite noon, he had already lost count of how many shitty cheap beers he’d had so far that day. Rowan was snapping photo after photo as fans screamed, and Theo knew that when fans pointed toward the two of them, they were mostly pointing at Rowan. Generational talent. Golden boy. It was fine with Theo. He wanted to give all his attention to Rowan Foley too.
* * *
After the parade, he and Rowan and Vic grabbed food and headed home for a nap. Some of the younger guys were still out partying, but between being old, and the kinds of chaotic anxiety-inducing crowds that Rowan seemed to draw, they weren’t up for staying. The younger guys chirped them as they left, but Theo had been daydreaming about being unconscious for large, uninterrupted swaths of time for weeks. He wouldn’t stop being a Stanley Cup Champion if he took a nap.
The three of them brought burgers out to the back patio when they made it home, and finally had time to breathe.
