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Game Face
Fecha de publicación:
2025-08-21 06:32:21
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Owned on the Ice M/M Romance Pudgy Jamie
Jamie speed-walked across the quad with his laptop bag banging against his hip and the collar of his shirt pulled up as high as it would go.He’d checked in the mirror four separate times before leaving. The hickeys were hidden. Covered. Definitely covered. Max had been pretty careful, keeping every mark low and hidden, but knowing they were there was its own problem. He kept catching the pull of the fabric against a sensitive spot and feeling his face go hot in the middle of a public sidewalk.His mind wasn’t on stats at all.It was in a car somewhere on the north side of town, with Max and Ava, chasing down an email address, while Jamie went to teach a stranger about standard deviation. He hated it. Ninety minutes, he told himself. Ninety minutes and then you can be useful.He checked the booking as he pushed through the doors of the Delaney Learning Commons. Third floor, the little glass-walled study rooms along the back wall, room 314, nine-thirty. No name on the confirmation,
Owned on the Ice M/M Romance Rico
Max fished a pair of boxers off the floor and worked them up Jamie’s legs with the patient efficiency of a man dressing a limp doll. Jamie made a vague noise of protest. Max simply kissed the back of his shoulder and left him exactly where he was — face down in the pillows, boneless, hair a disaster.Then he opened the door.“Finally,” Ava said, sweeping past him. “Do you know how long I’ve been standing in a hallway that smells like microwaved noodles? I could have been born in that time. I could have been born and built a door-opening robot.”“Morning,” Max said.“Don’t morning me.” She spotted the shape of Jamie under the covers, dropped her bag, and made a beeline for the bed with her hands pressed to her chest. “Oh my God. Jamie. Look at the state of you. What did he do to you?”“Shut up,” Jamie said into the pillow. “Shut up, shut up, shut up—”Ava sat down on the edge of the bed and poked his butt cheek. “How’s your butt? Is it sore?”Jamie’s head shot up. “Why would my butt c
Owned on the Ice M/M Romance Year by Year
Jamie woke slow, warm, and heavier than usual.He’d had more at the diner than he’d normally eat in a week: the veggie hash, a pancake the size of a hubcap, most of Max’s hash browns because Max kept nudging the plate toward him and pretending not to. He’d gone to bed full, an odd, comfortable fullness he was still getting used to, and he’d slept like the dead.He surfaced now to gray morning light and the feeling of a mouth moving slowly along his shoulder.“Mm,” he managed.“Morning,” Max murmured against his skin, and Jamie felt the smile in it.Max was a furnace behind him, one heavy arm slung over Jamie’s waist, already half-hard against the back of his thigh, unhurried about it. His lips traced the curve of Jamie’s shoulder to his neck and back down, not pushing, just there, warm and patient, letting Jamie wake up into it.“You’re still—” Jamie started, and yawned, and felt himself flush. “It’s early.”“You said morning,” Max reminded him, low and lazy, his hand spreading warm o
Owned on the Ice M/M Romance Victory Pancakes
The bus got back to Greyhollow a little before midnight.Jamie had ridden home in the media van, wedged between a tripod bag and a sports-comm sophomore who talked the entire ninety minutes about camera settings. He’d nodded along and heard none of it, because two hours ago an NHL team had offered Max a spot.He’d spent the whole drive on his phone, the screen tipped away from the sophomore, reading everything he could find. The Crestwick Stormriders. Cup winners. Noah Rivers’s rookie season, written up everywhere. Aleksei Voronov, pages and pages on Voronov — the shutouts, the save-percentage records, the highlight reels, the fan accounts, the merchandise with his number on it. Jamie had scrolled through photo after photo of packed arenas, twenty thousand people on their feet, and tried to picture Max down there on that ice, in that jersey, that small and that far away and that watched.He was so happy for him. He was. The pride in his chest was enormous.But they’d been together a
Owned on the Ice M/M Romance Run, Sullivan
Max floated out of the cinderblock office like a man who’d been unplugged from the wall.The hallway was chaos. The post-game scrum in full swing, reporters clustered around the tunnel mouth, a wall of raised phones and boom mics, Hallowell’s captain boldly answering questions about a game he’d lost. Max stood at the edge of it, still in half his gear, and scanned.There. Off to the side, camera up, filming a coach’s answer over the heads of taller people and standing on his toes to do it — Jamie, brow furrowed in a way that made Max want to leave hickeys up and down his neck.He had to tell him. He had to tell him now or he was going to burst in the hallway.He couldn’t exactly stride into a press scrum and sweep Jamie off his feet. So Max did the next best thing, which was hover at the perimeter making the most obvious, least subtle eye contact of his life until Jamie felt it.Jamie lowered the camera. Found him. And his whole face changed. Surprise, then a helpless flicker of hi,
Owned on the Ice M/M Romance Party Trick
For a second Max just stood there, helmet under his arm, sweat cooling on his neck, brain still buffering.“You… uh,” he started, and stopped. He looked at Noah, then Jensen, then, helplessly, at Voro, who had not stopped studying him like a specimen. “Sorry. Sorry, this is just a little… I mean, there’s a vending machine out there that only takes exact change.” He said it like it was the strangest part. “You came here..?”Noah barked a laugh. “Told you,” he said, to no one in particular, delighted. “Told you he was funny.” He crossed the little room and clapped Max on the shoulder hard enough to rock him. “Good to see you again, man. You look like you’re gonna pass out. Sit down before Larsson has to explain a body.”Max did not sit down. He wasn’t sure his knees would negotiate it. “I thought — I figured you forgot I existed.”“Who could forget a goalie goal, man,” Noah said, breezy. “And I definitely don’t forget the guy who cold-called me, ignored Voro’s advice and then went out
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