CHAPTER 3 - Hands on training

    Liam’s eyes snapped open at 4:07 AM, the same time his internal alarm had gone off for years. 

The room was still dark, the city outside the window quiet except for the occasional distant hum of traffic. He lay there for a few seconds, staring at the ceiling, before the weight of the new reality settled over him like a bad hangover.

Raphael Thorne was in his room. In his space. Breathing the same air.

Liam turned his head slightly. The other bed held a large, sleeping form under the covers. Raphael hadn’t moved much. Good. The less interaction, the better.

He slipped out of bed quietly, feet hitting the cold floor. He dressed in the dark in his compression shorts, sweats, hoodie, and his favorite training shoes. In the bathroom, he brushed his teeth, splashed water on his face, and ran a quick mental checklist for the day’s practice. Drills. Line chemistry. Power play setups. All the things he needed to stay sharp as captain.

When he stepped back into the bedroom, Raphael was still dead asleep, one arm thrown over his face, chest rising and falling steadily.

Liam paused at the door, keys in hand. Part of him, a big, petty part, wanted to leave the bastard there. Let him miss his first official practice with the Frostbite Wolves. Let the coaches rip into him. It would serve him right after all the shit he’d pulled on the ice for two seasons.

But Liam was the captain. And captains didn’t let new players fuck up on day one, no matter how much they hated them.

He crossed the room in three strides and kicked the side of Raphael’s bed, hard enough to jolt the frame.

“Get up, Thorne. Practice in an hour.”

Raphael stirred, muttering something incoherent before cracking one eye open. “The fuck… what time is it?”

“Time for you to stop sleeping like a lazy ass. If you’re late, you’re running ten extra laps. Don’t test me.” Liam didn’t wait for a reply. He grabbed his bag and left the apartment, the door clicking shut behind him.

The walk to the training facility was only fifteen minutes on foot through the quiet streets. Liam preferred it this way. Fresh air, clear head, no distractions. He pulled his hood up against the early morning chill and started moving.

His mind, however, wouldn’t stay quiet.

Stuck with a gay roommate for the next few months. The thought made his jaw tighten. Raphael wasn’t even fully gay, he was bi, whatever the hell that meant. Still, the guy had zero problem throwing around sexual innuendoes like it was normal. Liam hated it. Hated the way Raphael talked, hated the way he carried himself like nothing fazed him, hated that management had forced this on him.

Stay away, he told himself. Be civil on the ice. Be a good captain. But keep your distance off it. Don’t let him drag you into his weird world.

The sound of footsteps  pulled him out of his thoughts. Liam glanced over his shoulder.

Raphael was jogging to catch up, gym bag bouncing against his side, hair still messy from sleep. He looked mildly pissed.

“You couldn’t wake me up properly?” Raphael called out as he fell into step beside him. “Had to kick the damn bed like a drill sergeant?”

Liam kept his eyes forward. “You’re a grown man. Set an alarm. I’m not your personal wake-up service.”

Raphael snorted. “Yeah, well, it’s my first day. Figured the captain might show a little courtesy.”

Liam let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Courtesy? You want me to go around knocking on every teammate’s door too? Wake up the whole roster like some fucking nanny? Get real, Thorne.”

Raphael grumbled under his breath, something about “not the same thing,” but Liam didn’t bother asking him to repeat it. They walked the rest of the way in tense silence for a few moments.

Then Raphael’s voice turned lighter. Teasing again. “You always this uptight in the mornings, pretty boy? Or is it just because I’m the one in your bed now?”

Liam stopped walking for half a second, turning to face him on the empty sidewalk. “I seriously don’t like that shit, Thorne. The gay talk. The teasing. The baiting. Cut it out. My team isn’t going to put up with that crap, and neither am I.”

Raphael met his glare without flinching, a slow smirk pulling at his lips. “We’ll see about that, Captain.”

Liam shook his head in disgust and kept walking. The rest of the short journey passed in heavy silence.

When they pushed through the doors of the practice facility, the locker room was already filling up. The moment the team spotted them walking in together, the hooting and whistling started immediately.

“Damn, Cap! First night and you’re already bringing your new boyfriend to practice?” Marcus called out, grinning.

Another player laughed. “How was the sleepover, Lannister? Did he keep you warm?”

“Welcome to the Wolves, Thorne!” someone else shouted. “Try not to make our captain blush too hard.”

The locker room erupted in laughter. One of the older defensemen, Big Mike, leaned back on the bench and added loudly, “Just don’t drop the soap around here, new guy. We don’t play that fairy shit on this team.”

The whole room burst out laughing again. Liam forced a smirk and shook his head along with them, even as irritation crawled under his skin. It was just locker room talk. Normal shit. Still, having it aimed at his situation made his stomach twist.

Coach Harlan walked in a few minutes later, clipboard in hand, and the noise died down.

“Alright, listen up,” Coach said, voice carrying across the room. “Most of you already know, but let me make it official. Raphael Thorne is now a Frostbite Wolf. We traded hard to get him here because he’s going to help us win. I expect you to welcome him as family. No bullshit. We’re one unit now.”

He turned to Raphael. “You good with that, Thorne?”

“Yes, Coach ,” Raphael replied, voice steady and confident.

Coach nodded, then looked at Liam. “Lannister, as captain, I’m putting him under your wing. Personally train him. Show him the plays, the tactics, how we run things here. I want him up to speed fast.”

Liam’s jaw tightened, but he nodded. “Yes, Coach.”

Coach gave a few more instructions about the day’s drills and left the locker room. The moment the door closed behind him, Raphael leaned in close to Liam’s ear, voice low enough for only him to hear.

“I can’t wait for that hands-on training, Cap.”

Liam pulled back sharply, disgust clear on his face. Raphael just smirked and started changing into his practice gear like nothing had happened.

This was going to be a long fucking day.