AngelLion Cosplay

When I first joined my local league I was a young teenager barely passed. I’d been bullied by my peers and dismissed by my parents and the rink was the only safe space I had. I can say with no doubt in my mind that without hockey I would not be here writing this post today. The community saved my life and amongst all the hate I feel the need to share my story of acceptance.

When I told my leagues organisers that I didn’t want to go by the name of my insurance papers I wasn’t met with invasive questions they only asked what I would prefer to go by and neither they nor my team ever once looked back.

Since I started playing I’ve always taped my blade as the trans pride flag, that tape job means more to me that I could ever express with words. When my captain asked me what the colours meant and I told him it was trans pride, it wasn’t just met with acceptance, it was met with him taping his blade to match in a show to solidarity. A display of support I could never quantify the importance of to a non queer person.

One of the few times I’ve been met with hate while playing in a national tournament, before I could even open my mouth to defend myself a man who I’d only met once before leapt to my defence to shut down the homophobic comments.

Hockey IS for everyone.

“Then you ought to have reserved it.” Silver hair replies, voice oddly un-snide for the comment.

Barclay hops up from his spot near Duck and joins Owen. Duck notices that when both newcomers look at him, Mr. Put-together’s gaze stays on Barclay. Maybe the other guy’s does too; he’s wearing weirdly reflective, red glasses that make it hard to see where he’s looking.

“Uh, what are you all here for? Maybe we could, like, share, I know the team could do with a drill day-”

Black hair shakes his head, “Thank you for offering, but no. We’re teaching the new youth skate class, and it’s just not safe to have them on the ice with another group. They’re still not in total control of their movements, and if one of you barrels into them accidentally the parents will have our asses, not yours.”

“We’re not giving up the ice.” Owen crosses his arms.

“But we reserved it!”

“C’mon, man, give it a rest, let’s just let the kids practice.” Duck starts unlacing his right skate.

“No.”

Black hair sighs, “Please just follow the schedule.”

“Make me, twinkle-toes.”

Silver hair frowns a moment, then unleashes a smile colder than the air around them, “I have an idea. If Joseph can score a goal off of one of you, we get the ice. If he can’t, we’ll have the class do off-ice exercises for today.”

“Fine. Barclay, get out there.”

“Uh, I’m not even in my-”

“Fuck it, Duck, you go.”

Duck re-laces his boot, grabs his stick, and skates out to the goal; he’s more than happy to cede the ice, but his pride insists he actually try to block. It shouldn’t be hard; he’s their back-up goalie for a reason. And Joseph’s face is too symmetrical for him to have ever played hockey in any serious way.

His ass isn’t bad, either.

He gets in position, both of them waiting for Owen to call “go.” When he does, Joseph zooms up the ice with alarmingly impressive speed. A tenth of a second later, the puck goes into the net like Duck isn’t even there.

Joseph smiles, so casually dazzling that Duck finds himself blinking away a blush.

“Grew up in the midwest.” Is all the other man says before skating back to the edge of the rink. Duck follows him, too busy enjoying the view to mind the good-natured booing from his teammates. Barclay is perfectly quiet, stays that way even as Duck wobbles over to join him. His eyes are fixed on Joseph, who’s now stretching as his co-teacher welcomes in the pre-teens.

“You okay big fella?”

His friend doesn’t even look his way as he murmurs, “I think I’m in love.”

—------------------------------------------------------------

“A truly rewarding first day.” Indrid sips his cocoa from the paper cup as Joseph winds down the country road to the house.

“They’re a great group of kids.”

“Agreed. Though I was also referring to your putting the hockey team in their place. Those pick-up games when you visit home paid off. I suspect even the goalie was impressed, given how he was watching you when you two skated off the ice.”

“Indrid, he was just behind me.”

“Perhaps. But at least one of his teammates is very interested.”

“Which one?” There’s a glimmer of excitement in his voice.

“The tall one built like a de-anthropomorphized werewolf.” Indrid knows, through their shared love of certain romance novels, that Joseph will understand this for the compliment it is.

Joseph laughs, “Barclay? Good to know.” They pull into the garage, Indrid grabbing their bags as Joseph unlocks the door into the house.

“From the way he was smiling, you could have him eating out of the palm of your hand in a matter of days.” He doesn’t add that he’d very much like to see that happen. That if they had any taste at all, the entire team, the entire town, would be enamored with Joseph.

Indrid can start a business venture with Joseph. He can sign a lease on this two bedroom house with him. But for reasons he cannot articulate but is stuck dealing with anyway, he cannot tell Joseph that he’s in love with him.

And, as the weeks speed by, when Joseph teases him for going to the rink to train everyday, he teases right back that if he’s ever going to keep up with him, he’ll need his stamina.

He’s still internally banging his head into a wall over that one during free skate when someone bumps into him.

“Oh, fuck, sorry.” Duck, recognizing him, offers a casual smile, “hey, how’s teachin’ goin’?”

“Very well, thank you. I take it your team found a new time to play.”

“Yep, just switched to the next hour. Sorry about all that, by the way. Folks in Kepler get stuck in their ways about the weirdest fuckin things.” He chuckles, “shoulda seen the fights that broke out over changing the color of the ‘Welcome to Kepler’ sign.”

“No breaking chairs over people’s heads, I hope?”

“Nah, just a ban on all hot beverages at town meetings.”

“Goodness. Tell me everything.”

Duck obliges him, the two of them weaving in circles until free skate is over. It gives him ample time to appreciate Ducks many charms; the curve of his smile, the easy friendliness in his green eyes, and the stout, soft torso that Indrid would like to slide his chilly hands across to defrost them.

“You hungry? I, uh, I’m enjoyin spendin time with you but I’m also fuckin starvin.”

Indrid is more than happy to accept the following invitation to an early dinner at Amnesty Lodge. Better still, this turns out to be Barclay’s place of employment, so he gets glimpses of the handsome cook while delighting in the company of Kepler’s resident beefcake.

“Outta curiosity, how’d you learn to skate?”

“I had private instructors from the age of seven. I, ah, I was at the competitive level for some time, though I never became a household name. I was all set to go to Olympic tryouts and then I had a rather disastrous accident on the ice. As you’ve seen I can still skate just fine, but it ended my career.”

“Fuck, that fuckin sucks. It ain’t quite the same, but I was on the second string for the Kepler Killer Spruce, our minor league team. Got into a bad collision on the ice, other fella’s skate found just the wrong spot on my leg and that was that.”

“That’s terrible. Also terrifying.”

“Wanna see the scar?”

“Absolutely.” This is only partially so Duck will roll up his pants to show Indrid the curving muscles beneath, “oh, oh my.”

“Gnarly, right?” He smirks as he rolls the fabric back down, “okay, show’s over, you wanna see any more skin, you gotta pay for dinner.”

Indrid laughs along with him and pays the bill. As they’re stopped by Indrid’s car, saying goodnight, a slip of paper slides into his back pocket as Duck drawls, “In case you wanna do this again sometime.”

—---------------------------------------------------------------

Barclay likes getting to practice before everyone else; he can make sure the ice is clear, get his gear on at his own pace, and do the extra stretches his joints are demanding lately.

These days, there’s the added benefit of watching Indrid and Joseph with their class. Clonking his bag against the door, he opens it and finds Joseph alone on the ice, skating with earbuds in. Barclay sits down in his usual spot, opens his bag, and spends the next seven minutes not putting it on.

Barclay’s not bad on the ice, and he’s never bought into the weird hockey vs. ice skating thing. Different sports take different skills. But Joseph is elegant in a way Barclay could never hope to be, movements precise and so sharp he’s certain if he tossed a dime on the ice, Joseph could turn on it.

The other man glides to a stop, smiling at him as he leaves the ice and removes his earbuds.

“No kids tonight?”

“Every last one of them is down with that flu that’s going through town. Indrid too.”

Barclay’s phone buzzes and he picks it up, “Looks like it got most of the team, and the last two guys just texted to say they’ve gotta look after sick family. Guess I’ve got the night to myself.”

“You’re not staying to skate?” Joseph tucks his gear away in a clearly compartmentalized bag.

“It’s not as fun for me if I’m by myself. I, uh, I might go downtown and grab some coffee. See if the bookstore’s open.”

“Would you, um, mind if I followed you? I put in a special order there that I need to pick-up.”

“Sure. You gotta join me for coffee too, though.” He winks, then adds, “if you want to, I mean.”

Joseph smiles again and Barclay swears his pupils must be morphing into hearts. His condition doesn’t improve when he discovers the book Joseph ordered is a A Slice of Murder; he fucking loves the Pies and Private Eyes series.

Confidence isn’t usually a problem for him–he once went to a gay bar with Aubrey, Dani, and Duck, only to get five drinks sent to him in the first half hour—Joseph’s just spectacularly out of his league.

They get coffee and cupcakes to-go, wandering main street under a cloudy sky. Joseph takes one bite of his mocha-toffee cupcake and moans, “You have to try this.”

“Hands are kinda full, lemme just” He freezes midway through transferring his bag into the same hand as his cup as Joseph holds the dessert up to his mouth. He opens it obediently, blushing as Joseph brushes a stray crumb from his beard.

“That’s fucking great.”

As they continue down the street, Joseph says, “Indrid mentioned you were on the Killer Spruce for a while.”

“Heh, yeah. I was goalie for three years. It was great, but cooking had always been where my heart was. Duck said you’d been trying to go pro?”

“Emphasis on trying. The longer I was in it, the more hostile it became and I…my mental health took a few too many hits. I can be a perfectionist, and that’s a blessing and a curse in a discipline like skating.”

“No kidding.”

Joseph bumps their shoulders together, “I guess it’s good Duck was in the goal that first day and not you; not sure I could have gotten a puck past a pro goalie.”

Barclay swallows the last of his coffee, forcing his nerves down with it, and replies, “Nope, it woulda been even easier. All you would have had to do was wink and I’d have gone done like a chopped tree.”

He stops and Joseph does the same, meeting his eyes, “Is that your way of telling me you’d like to go on a date, big guy?”

“Guhun. I, uh, I mean yeah, fuck yeah.”

“That sums up my feelings too.” Joseph plucks the empty cup from his hand and tosses it in a trash can, then twines their fingers together.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------

“Are you certain this is safe?” Indrid sits on the freezing log beside Duck.

“Yep. We got the all clear to open it for skating two days ago and it’s only gotten colder. Can’t believe you never skated on lake ice before.”

“It wasn’t conducive to building skate routines. And if I go through the ice, I expect you to save me.”

“Promise I will.” Duck helps him up, “can’t let a cute fella freeze to death on my watch.”

It doesn’t take Indrid long to adjust to the bumpier surface, at which point he slips into his usual swoops and spins. With the sunset reflecting in the ice, it looks like he’s flying, golds and pinks tinting his face.

“Not bad for a city kid.” Duck teases as Indrid returns to his side.

“Is that so…” Indrid grins, “last one to finish a lap of the pond has to buy dinner.”

“You’re on.” Duck takes off, Indrid quickly pulling ahead of him. He pushes harder, managing to catch up and keep stride with him.

“You keep up well, sweetheart.” Indrid blows him a kiss.

“You don’t know the half of it.” Duck passes him, “but you gotta catch me if you wanna find out.”

They hit the finish point and skid to a stop at the same time. Duck doesn’t even get a chance for a full breath, Indrid wrapping his arms around his shoulders and dragging him into a kiss.

“Caught you.” He sing-songs, and Duck smiles into the kiss.

“Sure did. Ain’t even mad that I gotta buy dinner.”

“I believe that pleasure falls to me. Provided” Indrid purrs against his lips, “we eat it in bed.”

—----------------------------------------------------

Going for an extra cool-down lap was a mistake. Joseph’s reflexes are fast, but not as fast as a rogue hockey puck.

“Shit!” He bangs into the wall but manages to stay on his feet. Blinking away the pain reveals Duck skating over to him in a hurry.

“Fuck, Joe, I’m so fuckin sorry, my shot went wild. Did it get you too bad?”

“I’ll have a hell of a bruise on my cheek, but I’ll live.”

Duck seems satisfied with his reassurance, but when Joseph comes back from his dinner at Pho Sure (god bless strip malls), he finds the shorter man waiting for him by his car, snow dusting his bomber jacket.

“Hey. Uh, just wanted to double check that you were still fine.”

“I got a few funny looks, but that was it. Thank you for being so thoughtful.”

Duck hesitates, as if there’s something else he wants to say, then grins, “Any time, Joe.” He turns, making tracks towards the sidewalk at the edge of the road.

“You’re not walking home, are you?”

“Nah, catchin the bus. My car’s in the shop until Tuesday.”

“Do you want a ride?”

“That’d be fuckin great.”

As they’re pulling out of the parking lot, the ranger adds, “Uh, actually, any chance we could swing by your place? Left my phone charger there last time I was over with ‘Drid.”

“Of course.” He changes lanes, focuses on the road to avoid imagining Duck and Indrid tangled up in bed together and all the things he could be getting up to while pressed between them. He’s just doing a favor for his friend, no matter how badly he wants to pull over on some dark country road and worship Duck’s belly and thighs until the sun comes up.

He calls up the stairs when they get inside to let Indrid know he’s home, and there’s a flurry of footsteps a moment later.

“Oh! Hello sweetheart, are you here for your—what on earth happened?” Indrid runs right past Duck to cup Joseph’s face in his permanently cold hands.

“Just a flying puck. It’s my own fault for not clearing off soon enough.”

“And mine for aimin’ like shit.”

“You hockey players and your brute strength.” Indrid teases. His face turns serious as he looks at Duck, “oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry, that was a poorly timed joke.”

“S’fine.” Duck shrugs, crossing his arms and leaning on the table. He won’t look at either of them.

“Duck, you know I’m not angry at you, right? I meant it when I said this wasn’t a big deal” Joseph joins him, resting a hand on his arm.

“I know, I know it’s just, I fuckin hate hurtin people, even on accident. Makes me feel like shit, but I didn’t wanna say anythin because I ain’t the one with a new bruise.”

“Well, it’s said.” Indrid stands behind his boyfriend, wrapping his arms around his belly and resting his chin on his shoulder, “and since no one here wishes for you to feel like shit, what would make you feel better?”

“I dunnoAh!” Duck breaks into a smile as Indrid coats his face in kisses, “kinda hard to feel down when you’re doin’ that.”

“Hmmmm” Indrid gazes at Joseph; he’s not wearing his glasses, and as his eyes focus mischief comes into view, “perhaps you would feel even better if you apologized to Joseph more…thoroughly.” His fingers dip down, fiddling with the zipper of Duck’s fly.

“I’m down if Joe is. If you tell him what we talked about.”

“Tell me what?”

Indrid steps back, tapping his fingers together, “I, ah, I, as you know, you and I share a proclivity for non-monogamy, and, ah-”

“Is this about the storeroom incident. Because Barclay told me about that. In detail.” He smiles, trying to put his friend at ease.

“Nono, it’s, I” brown eyes squeeze shut, “I have feelings for you as well. I want to be your boyfriend.”

The warmth in his heart pivots from desire to affection, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because in spite of showin off in spandex in front of huge crowds, he’s shy.” Duck teases.

“Perhaps only when it comes to you, Joseph. You’ve been my friend for years, supported me through difficult times and I was afraid admitting I wanted more would lose me what I already had.” Indrid looks at the floor, doesn’t budge as Joseph cups his chin and guides him into a kiss. At which point he melts, lips hungry and demanding as he twines himself around him.

Tapping of fingers on a screen draws their attention; Duck smiles down at his screen, “Just textin Barclay and tellin him you two finally worked it out. It was killin him, bein’ able to tell you were into each other and watchin you dance around it.”

“Is that so? Well, then, I think he ought to join us.” Indrid holds out his hand and Duck sets the phone into it, “and you ought to get going on your apology.”

He has never heard Indrid use this voice before, cold and comforting all at once, like ice water on the worst day of summer.

“Yessir.” Duck gives a goofy bow and drags Joseph towards the stairs, “c’mon, gorgeous, we’re usin his bed because it’s the size of a fuckin boat.”

“I sprawl when I sleep!” Indrid calls from behind him.

“It’s true.” They say at the same time; Joseph laughs, adds, “he once fell off a queen-sized bed in a room we were sharing.”

“Cute.” Duck giggles, “now get your ass into this king-sized one.”

Joseph lays back, the two of them laughing and messily kissing as they tug and toss away clothes. Duck kisses a line down his stomach, taking his dick into his mouth without hesitation as Joseph throws his legs open.

“OHmygod, Duck, yes, oh you’re in trouble I’m going to make you apologize to me this way for everything.”

“Fine by me. Fuck you look even hotter from this angle.”

All he gets out in reply is a moan as Duck slides two fingers in while his tongue teases the tip of his dick. There’s a creak in the doorway, Indrid leaning against it with Duck’s phone in his hand.

“Don’t mind me, I’m simply recording to give Barclay an incentive to hurry over here.”

“Shhhhit!” Joseph bucks his hips as Indrid laughs and perches on the bed. His pink and yellow robe is open, revealing a tent in his black boxers.

“Do you like that, Joseph? Knowing he’ll see just how needy you are, how willing you are to take on all comers?”

“Holy fuck ‘Drid, you’re a menace.” Duck grins at his boyfriend while trailing kisses along Joseph’s inner thigh.

“It’s, it’s what I get for sharing my OnlyFans login with him, ohgod.”

“Yes, yes it is.” Indrid tosses the phone on the blankets, kisses his forehead and Duck’s hand where it’s resting on his hip, “I’ll be back in a moment. “

He disappears into the bathroom. Joseph reaches down, threading his fingers into Duck’s hair as his fingers curve inside him. He chases his orgasm, babbling out praise with every swipe of his tongue, and cums with a surprised gasp. Duck groans softly, rests his cheek on Joseph’s navel and grins up at him.

“Fuck that was fun.” There’s five’o’clock shadow on his jaw and Joseph eases them both upright so he can kiss along the edge of it. Duck crawls into his lap, his boxers noticeably soaked. The kisses are so all-consuming it takes him a moment to register Indrid’s shape in the room and new footfalls on the stairs.

“Holy fuck.” Barclay is fumbling to get his shoes off, pupils wide as he stares at the scene on the bed.

“Hi, big guy.”

“Hey, babe. You cum yet?”

“Yes.” He trades a smile with Duck.

“Rather rudley he did so while I was out of the room.”

Barclay’s attention snaps to the skater, “Oh yeah? Seems to me you should have made sure he didn’t until I was here to see it. And” he growls as Indrid saunters closer, “I think you oughta take his place as my fleshlight because of that.”

“Oh hell yeah, I’m into this.” Duck shifts so he’s sitting on the bed instead of Joseph, allowing them both an unobstructed view of their boyfriends.

“I’m prepared for that. Oh!” Indrid gasps, going pink across the chest as Barclay yanks the robe off and rips his boxers away, “oh goodness yes, alright I’m going, I’m-oof!” He snickers as Barclay shoves his upper body forward and down, his palms coming to rest on the bed while his feet remain planted on the floor.

“Think it’s time we use some of that flexibility of yours. You’re staying like that until I cum.”

“Ohhhyes.”

“Here, big fella, you’re gonna need these.” Duck opens the bedside table, rolling the bottle of lube down the bed and tossing his friend a condom.

“Thanks, man.” Barclay undoes his pants, shoves them and his boxers down to his ankles, “oh fuck, you are prepared.”

“As I saAAAAAid, ohgoodness.” Indrid doesn’t get any time to recover from Barclay removing the plug before the cook pushes into him.

“That’s it baby, take it, fucking take it.” Barclay must bottom out because Indrid yelps and claws the bedspread.

“Jesus it’s fun seein’ him get fucked from this angle.” Duck is eagerly rubbing his dick as Joseph kisses his shoulder.

“Agreed.”

Barclay blows Joseph a kiss, “You like this view, I’ll fuck him this way eveyr night.”

“That’s very thoughtful.” He’s about to get up and kiss him when Indrid whines into the bed.

“W-would someone please touch my cock?”

“I’m. busy.” Barclay punctuates his words with thrusts, punching moans from Indrid’s chest. Duck scoots forward, Indrid lifting his head excitedly. The ranger holds his head up long enough to settle on the edge of the bed, then forces it back down so Indrid is sucking his dick.

“Mmph!”

“Huh? Oh, sorry sugar, though you said you wanted to touch some cock.”

Indrid moans helplessly, eyes shut in bliss when Joseph sneaks off the bed and stands and his side.

“As much as I’m enjoying the show, big guy, I think he deserves a helping hand.” He wraps his right hand around Indrid’s cock, garbled thank yous spilling around Duck’s dick.

“Figures your sense of humor sticks around in bed.” Duck teases.

“I like it.” Barclay pauses to kiss him, Indrid and Ducks moans filling the air as he does. Then the slap of skin joins them and Barclay grunts, “when you jerk him off he gets tighter.”

“Good to know.” He speeds up his strokes, the muscles in Indrid’s back tensing as twists, whimpers, and cums across the floor.

“Hang tight, baby, I’m not done yet” Barclay switches to jerky, short thrusts as Indrid squeaks against Duck’s skin.

There’s a gasped out “fuck” as Duck cums on his face, and a second later Barclay growls, slapping Indrid on the ass once as he shudders through his orgasm. The instant he pulls out, Indrid drops to his knees, panting. Duck wiggles backwards, Barclay stepping out of his clothes to help Indrid onto the bed as Joseph quickly cleans the cum from the floor.

“Everybody good?” Barclay says softly.

“Uh huh.”

“Yes.”

“Mmmhmm” Indrid looks sleepily up at Joseph, “I’ve wanted that for so long.”

“Me too. I guess this means we’re all dating know, right? We should talk about that, I can get a chart going if we need to-”

Duck kisses him on the lips, “Tomorrow, darlin. Think for tonight, we cuddle up under the covers and be glad we found each other.”