Archive of Our Own

My thoughts when writing this: how did so much straight sex get into my gay hockey fic?

So here's the thing about Troy: he liked all the wrong guys.

Yes, Adrian Dela Cruz was the wrong type if you can categorize him as "rude super star actor who cheats whenever the fuck he wants." Adrian, who Troy secretly dated for two years just for Adrian to dump him then get engaged three days later. Fucking cheating asshole.

However it goes beyond just that.

In high-school, it was the star of the lacrosse team — cliche, yes he knows. Stolen glances during French classes, yearbooks doggy eared, and fantasies dreamed. That's all it was, a dream, an unrequited crush from a cocky jock that ruled the school.

Before that, in middle school, it was his coach's son — yes, also a fucking cliche. Troy was filled with those. Troy swore Tyler was also queer, but worried that Tyler's dad would find out and tell Troy's very homophobic father and always chickened out. Secrecy is for the best, he would tell himself as his young heart yearned.

In his adult life, his bad history of awful crushes continued with Dallas Kent.

Truthfully, it started before he became an adult. Troy was sixteen and in the stands of Toronto's arena when he first saw him. Dallas skated the ice, warming up for their first playoff game. On the jumbo-tron, Dallas's face — sans helmet — filled the screen and Troy's damned heart flipped.

"Who's that?" Troy asked his dad. Shit, was that too much? Could his dad hear that his heart thumping heart in the seat next to his?

"Dallas Kent. He's a rookie this year. Hell of a center. ESPN says he might make rookie of the year."

Troy nodded his head along, but in his mind he's already calculating how much snow he'll need to shovel next winter to afford a Dallas Kent jersey.

Two years later, Troy's drafted to Toronto, but his joyful reaction to getting on his hometown team was overshadowed by one thing: his anxiety of being on the same team as his celebrity crush.

Celebrity might be a stretch, but damn, Dallas Kent — winner of the 2014 Rookie of the Year award — was a big name in hockey circles. He's known for being rough on the ice and starting fights, which many hockey fans directly translate to being a great hockey player.

In Troy's dreams, it translated to rough hands on his body and a punishing pace as he tried not to scream.

The first day in the locker room was awkward. Well, awkward for Troy. He's stuck between ogling his hockey idol and not wanting to seem like a complete gay creep to his crush.

Troy Bennett always goes for the wrong guys. Like his fucking teammate. Straight teammate.

"We're going out! Tru Times is having three dollar shot night!" Troy felt a hand slap across his shoulders. His heart flipped when he saw Dallas smiling at him. "You in, rook? Come party with the big boys."

Troy grinned back and ribbed his elbow into Dallas's ribs. "Fuck yeah. Let's go."

"Rookie's coming!"

"Hell yeah," one of the defenseman shouted — Perez? Troy's really bad with names and people. "Hayes, come out with us!"

Hayes, their backup goalie shoved his phone into his pocket. The dude's already dressed and on his way out before most of the team even stumbled into the shower. "Nah, I have a date with Lisa. Sorry guys."

"Boo!" Dallas pushed off Troy and made an exaggerated gesture at Hayes. "Come on Wyatt! You get a chick and suddenly you're so fucking whipped! What, she doesn't let you have any fun? That must be some good puss."

Troy waited for the punch, for the fight to breakout right there in the locker room. WAGs —wives and girlfriends — were notoriously avoided in chirps unless you wanted a trip to the dentist. Saying something like that on his junior league team would have sent Dallas to the hospital. Or the morgue.

Instead of throwing an arm back, Hayes rolled his eyes with a simple, "Fuck off Kent."

Okay? That was oddly tame for hockey players. Which meant-

This was the culture of the Toronto Guardians. Cheap shots, WAG chirping allowed, going out to a club despite morning practice the next day. The expectation Troy needed to fit in order to find his place on the team.

He could do this.

"Okay, the rest of you cocksuckers better come out!" Dallas grabs his shower stuff. "I'm fucking serious! Anyone not there tonight is a fucking pussy."

Cheap shots, WAG chirping, clubbing before practice, and blatant homophobia. That's what it took to fit in here.

Troy's heart throbbed as he tried to hide how he watched Dallas walk into the showers. Dallas' slurs repeated in Troy's head.

Casual homophobia. Friendly homophobia.

Troy tried to ignore the uncomfortable chafing the words caused him. Dallas wouldn't say that shit to a gay person. He meant it as a between-friends-and-teammates way.

Teammates joke around with each other. That's all this was.

Friendly homophobia.

"Don't be a fucking faggot!"

"What, are you sucking off your captain? Maybe your coach gets a piece too!"

"You're a damn fairy."

"Didn't know they let fruits play in the fucking NHL."

Troy's NHL career became a flurry of thrown insults. Troy quickly moved up the ranks into the first line alongside Dallas, which meant he's on the ice every time Dallas got hit over his insults.

Blood on Troy's knuckles became commonplace as he defended his teammate from angered opponents. Yes, Dallas goaded everyone, but they should all be used to it.

Throwing explicits on the ice made the opposite team sloppy. It's simple strategy. Frankly, Dallas was smart to use it to his advantage.

"Barrett! Control that motherfucker," Carter Vaughn yelled at him one day on New York ice, pointing at a smirking Dallas in the sin bin.

Troy swallowed. This was his role. He needed to be the guy his team needed, to continue the strategy when Dallas couldn't. "If you weren't all fucking pansies, his words wouldn't bother you, Vaughny."

It was a weak chirp, but it seemed to be the breaking point for the Admiral.

Troy didn't see the punch coming. It wasn't until the cold ice touched his back that he realized he got punched at all. Troy grabbed his jaw and looked up — fuck, he got slammed down didn't he? — at Carter Vaughn being held back by a ref.

"Fuck off, Barrett. Go play fucking lap dog to Dallas Kent!"

"That's enough, Vaughn." The ref pulled the hockey player away. "Penalty box, five minutes."

Troy made it back to his own bench with enthusiastic thumps to his back. He said the right thing, for his team at least.

He tried not to think about that part in his chest that he felt withering away.

Dallas' eyes gleamed under the pink lights of the club him and Troy stood in. It was nearing Christmas and they've both sought out the warmth of crowded clubs to starve off the winter freeze.

"You're doing great work, Barrett," Dallas complimented him and Troy smiled widely.

Dallas could be hot and cold. Troy could never get a proper read on what the guy actually felt. After a few beers however, Dallas tended to loosen up.

"Thanks, Kent," Troy said with practiced casualness. He commanded his heart to calm the fuck down. "I love being on a line with you. We make a great team."

"Hell yeah, brother." Dallas clinked their beer bottles together. "We'll get the fucking cup this year, me and you!"

Troy couldn't help himself. He watched Dallas' throat bob as he swallowed the last of his Corona. He wondered — for the fourth time that week — what that throat would feel like around his dick.

Fuck.

Troy should look away. He should press mercilessly against his boner until it went away. He should leave this fucking club away from this fucking untouchable Adonis.

Troy should just forget about being gay.

He should find a nice girl and get married. Maybe they would have kids — he could get lucky and have twins and he would never have to have sex with this pretend wife again. Troy would forget the years he jerked off to mental images of Dallas Fucking Kent.

"Round on me!" Dallas shouted over the music and it brought Troy out of his reprieve.

Troy forced a smile and downed the rest of his own beer. "Fuck yeah, let's do it!"

"He's going to get himself killed one day," Shane Hollander said.

They're on Toronto home ice playing against Montreal. Yet again, Dallas started a fight using homophobic slurs. Dallas knew Gilbert Comeau won't stand to be called a faggot, so that's exactly what he ended up spewing.

Troy believed Dallas truly it on purpose, moer than just distracting their opponents like he originally thought. Maybe he looked for a fight every game. Adrenaline junkies did that sort of thing. Maybe Dallas enjoyed fighting and this was the most legal way he'd found?

Troy huffed as Hollander pulled him by the jersey away from the full blown scrimmage across the ice. Everyone was paired up and — evidently — Goody-Two-Shoes of Canada decided Troy shouldn't fight. "He doesn't mean that shit."

"No?" Hollander sounded critical.

What the fuck does Hollander know? He doesn't fucking know Dallas. Not like Troy did.

"Nah, it's shit talk. Kent wouldn't say shit to any actual gay person. He's hockey talking."

Hollander laughed a single sharp laugh. "I've heard hockey talk my whole life, Barrett. If you want my advice, rook? Stay away from Kent."

Okay, who the fuck does Hollander think he is? Even worse, what the fuck does he know?

Is Troy's heart so obviously on his sleeve that Shane fucking Hollander thought to warn him away, like an older brother would to his fucking sister? What the fuck kind of twisted mind game strategy was Hollander up to?

Troy shoved Hollander's chest and got in his face. Yes, this felt good. Troy let his anger control his hands as he formed fists. "What the fuck does that mean, Hollander?"

"You should pick better friends than homophobic assholes," Shane said, not allowing any heat into his voice. "This is a big league. There's many many better people to befriend-"

Troy didn't hear the rest of Hollander's words as his fist connected to his cheek.

"You're a good friend, Troy."

A genuine smile broke out on Troy's face. Dallas and him spent the last day of their Christmas break together snowboarding down mountains in northern Canada. Normally, Troy wouldn't act so reckless as risking an injury mid-season, but he's found he couldn't say no to anything Dallas suggested.

"So are you man. This was a good day."

Once it had gotten dark, the two of them stumbled to the restaurant and bar at the base of the resort. Good drinks and overpriced food, two things young millionaire athletes never say no to.

"Could be a good night, too." Dallas tipped his head to the end of the bar. Troy looked over to see two women, one blonde and one red-headed. "Dips on the red. I have to see what that's like."

Troy felt his cheeks warm. He's been with Dallas when he'd picked up before, but this felt… different.

"Oh, uh, snowboarding-"

"Come on, Troy." Dallas clapped his shoulder. There's a certain gleam in Dallas's eyes that Troy… didn't like. "Loosen up a bit. You never pull, but tonight there's nothing stopping you. You do know you're an adult man, right? Not some teen kid who doesn't know what pussy looks like."

Troy very much didn't know "what pussy looks like."

And he didn't want to find out.

He's a (freshly) nineteen-year-old virgin. That's not a fact Troy planned to give Dallas. The whole team would know within the hour.

"We're sharing a room-"

"I'll go to her room, you take ours, you wild dog." Dallas stood and ran his hands through his hair. "Come on, wing-man! I've never fucked a red-head before and you need to distract her friend."

The blonde woman's name was Olivia. She's American and talked nonstop, but she didn't know a thing about hockey which was a plus for Troy.

Olivia was twenty-one and on winter break from university, her environmental professor definitely misgraded her last essay, her roommate ate boiled eggs constantly, and Troy was so fucking glad she didn't know about hockey because if this girl knew he was even marginally famous, the whole fucking world would know that Troy fucked her on December 29th, 2016.

"Oh, fuck, yes," Olivia moaned as Troy trusted into her. "Yes, baby! I love how you feel inside me."

Troy didn't like how he felt inside her. Everything felt… wrong. Olivia — she really was a sweet girl, Troy didn't give her enough credit — felt too soft, too breakable under his callused hands. He looked at the softness of her chest and almost got soft himself.

You have to do this, Troy reminded himself. Dallas knows you're in here fucking a girl. You have to.

In the end, Troy closed his eyes and replayed his favorite jerk material: Dallas scoring the winning goal, Dallas grinning in the sin bin, Dallas gulping water after bag skates with water dribbling down his chin, the way Dallas's hand fell on his thigh once during a plane ride.

"Fuck," Troy groaned as he thrusted faster. The images in his mind continue with rough hands and hard bodies, his dick driving into Dallas' with unrestrained passion. "Fuck, I'm going to cum."

"Me too," she gasped and snuck her hand down to rub at her clit between them.

Afterwards, Troy laid in the bed beside the sleeping blonde — Alyssa? Troy already forgot — and tried to ignore the shame that flooded his body.

The Awesome Group

Dallas added Troy to the group.

Troy: ?? Whats this?

Dallas: You're in the official group but this is a smaller group chat

Troy: for…?

Adams: Yeah this is for just the awesome guys

Travis: No buzzkills allowed

Nilsson: We voted last night to add you in

Troy: Glad to make the cut

Dallas: Okay mfers we're clubbing in NY Friday but where????

Travis: Arg not the same fucking place as last time. Gays kept on fucking hitting on me

Three people laughed at this message.

Dallas: I fucking know! They just can't stay with their own kind

Nilsson: Heard of a new place from Philly goaltender? Flying Nye?

Adams: idk sounds gay

Travis: Sounds like something Hayes would fucking like

Dallas: Fuck did he talk to you about the Avengers during practice too? Like damn Hayes just fuck Thanos already if you like purple cock that much!

Nilsson: That is why I'm first goaltender and he's keeping the bench warm for his bitch

Troy: i've heard good things about Five? i think it's more exclusive? less puck bunnies

Dallas: That won't work for Adams. Puck bunnies are the only way he gets pussy

Adams: fuck you Kent

Travis: True

Nilsson: True

Houde: True

Dallas: Houde where you been?

Adams: get fucked everyone

Troy: i think that was the point on this convo Adams?

Houde: Not all of us go home alone assholes. You bitches have been chatting while I got my dick wet.

Houde: I know a bouncer at Five. I'll make sure we're on the list, under 21s included.

Dallas: Fuck yeah boys

Nilsson: Houde always has the connections GOAT

Nilsson renamed group to "Houde is #1"

Troy lost count of how many drinks he downed after the fourth. This might be his sixth? He didn't fucking care. He doesn't drive in New York.

Troy had been attacked all night with the ridiculous fucking image that was Dallas Kent with his suit jacket off, bow tie undone, and dress shirt fully unbuttoned as he danced with women. All night.

Troy wanted to lick the sweat he saw gleaming against Dallas' pecs. He wanted to drop to his fucking knees and beg for Dallas to fuck his mouth.

Troy let his anger take over as he chugged the rest of his drink — anger to himself for wanting something so disgusting and untouchable.

"I'm going to fucking dance!" Troy shouted over the electric music thumping through the club.

This was Troy's first exclusive club. Not much was different from others besides no one had gotten asked for an autograph yet. That was nice, Troy guessed.

Sometimes he liked giving autographs. Dallas loved giving them; he'd signed a girl's tits once, so of course he loved it.

The boys hollered after him as he stumbled onto the dance floor close enough to Dallas without making it suspicious. He swayed his hips and looked around. Troy didn't know this part of the cat-and-mouse, where he needed to find a girl to actually dance with.

Thankfully, he caught the eye of a brunette holding a martini glass. She looked tall, about Dallas's height.

Her hair was the same color as Dallas' too.

Troy nodded her over and the brunette finished her drink before she walked over to the dance floor.

Neither of them exchanged names or even words. Troy grabbed her waist from behind and the girl grinded against his front. She hummed happily when she felt his boner against her ass.

If only she knew he was hard because of the dark-hair guy dancing with a blonde chick beside them.

Troy's eyes almost never left Dallas'. If anyone on the team was sober, he'd be fucked. He knew he was being obvious, but he couldn't manage to give a fuck with all the alcohol in his system.

Dallas Kent played like a fucking beast tonight. When he got a hat trick at the top of third period, Troy had wondered if he it was possible to play with a boner raging under his padding. He spent a lot of time on the bench thinking of naked women to calm his dick down.

Then, Dallas went to the club dressed like that and Troy's life was ending in front of him.

"You want to get out of here?"

Troy looked down at the girl between his arms. Fuck, she really thought he was into her.

Before he could answer, Dallas was there, all smirks and handsome lines.

"I'm going back to the hotel with Chrissy here." Dallas gestured to the giggling drunk girl wrapped in one of his arms. "You two want to join?"

The brunette smiled and looked up at Troy. "Hmm, sounds like fun."

Troy couldn't say no to Dallas. He'd drown himself if asked. "Fuck yeah. You're calling the driver though."

The car they get is crowded and the brunette — Abigale — sat on Troy's lap for the trip.

It's past midnight which should have meant empty roads, but in New York City it meant traffic jams. The driver maneuvered them deftly, but to no avail.

Abigail didn't seem to mind the extra time in the car. She turned her head and caught Troy's lips against hers. Troy tried to relax his body into the kiss, but his long-time crush-turned-teammate was sat right beside him-

Troy looked over at Dallas and saw where his hand lay. Or, where his arm disappeared under the blonde's dress. The girl made drunk moans and Dallas made eye contact with Troy.

He fucking winked.

Fuck, why was that so fucking hot. Dallas fingered a girl while he winked at Troy and Troy thought his pants might tear open.

Troy let his fingers dig into Abigale's waist as he kissed her deeper. She wiggled her hips against his hard erection and fuck, this was the best a woman ever made Troy feel before.

Except the girl was just the accessory. Troy's owed his erection to Dallas sitting one person over and looking like the god of hedonists and gay suppressionists.

Thank God the driver had a divider between his seat and theirs. Troy wasn't sure if that would stop what was currently happening. Troy wasn't even sure he wanted it to stop himself.

Eventually, the four of them stumbled out of the car and into the hotel, softness pressed against Troy's side as Abigale kept herself attached to him up the elevator. Troy and Dallas shared a room every trip, so Troy grabbed the key card and opened the door for everyone.

The two couples dropped on to different beds, Dallas loud as he sucked Christy's — Chrissy? — chest. Not to be outdone, Troy made out with Abigale.

It's not too long until the hotel room filled with slapping sounds and whiny moans. Abigale was under him, eye closed and mumbled something about coming soon.

Troy wasn't even close. He thought Abigale looked similar enough to him to help him, but she's still… a woman. A nice woman, but not what Troy wanted.

Taking the risk, he looked over at the other bed. Dallas pile-drived into the blonde woman and Troy's dick twitched appreciatively. He practically drooled as he watched Dallas' abs in the low lighting, the curve of his biceps and-

Fuck.

Troy groaned and the girl under him gasped. "Yes! Harder, yes!"

Troy stared at Dallas as he came and chanted in his head "Yes Dallas, fuck Dallas you feel so fucking good."

He tumbled to the bed beside Abigale and closed his eyes. The familiar pit of shame opened wider in his chest.

Fucking Christ, he can't even get off without making gay eyes at his fucking best friend. He's pathetic-

Troy's eyes flew open as he felt a warm wetness engulf his dick.

Troy never had a blowjob before. They'd been distant fantasies of his — a guy on his knees in front of Troy or, when concerning Dallas, Troy on his own knees.

He watched with growing horror as the blonde chick Dallas picked up bobbed her head on his dick. He looked beside him to see Abigale watching, her lip between her teeth and hand between her legs, obviously into whatever the fuck was going on.

Dallas watched from the other bed. "She said she wanted to suck two hockey players tonight. We're not one to disappoint."

Troy swallowed hard and closed his eyes. He was aware of the extra shame he would feel later, but he still pretended that it was Dallas on his dick tonight.

Houde is #1

Adams: Dallas did you and Barrett really fuck in the same room?!?!

Nilsson: ??? WhAT??

Dallas: Did we? I was too busy getting laid

Troy: Speak for yourself, I got action from both chicks

Adams: oooo Barrett stole Dallas's girl!

Houde: How are those mfers getting all this action? They're technically not even allowed to drink in NY!

Dallas: Just cause you're old Houde doesn't mean you can hate

Houde: Fuck you I'm 26! Im going to bed

Dallas: Night old man

"Your friend's a dick," a low voice said to him at the bar top.

Troy frowned and looked over before stopping in his tracks. Beside him is the most beautiful man he's ever seen before, glowing skin and perfect hair and full lips. Troy thought he might look vaguely familiar, but he couldn't put a finger on it.

"He's a hockey player. We're all kinda dicks," Troy said dismissively. Usually, Troy would have bitten the head off anyone who said shit against Dallas, but he wasn't wrong. Dallas had been in a particularly bad mood today before he stormed out of the bar.

"Oh, well in that case." The beautiful guy flagged the bartender down and ordered a drink. Something Troy never heard of before. "I guess that just excuses it."

"Something like that," Troy muttered and finished the last of his beer. He also wasn't in a good mood tonight, the longing sitting heavy in his chest. Especially after three different LGBT rants Dallas had gone on tonight.

"Pride nights are fucking stupid! I don't want that shit on me!"

"I shouldn't have to share ice with people like that. Fucking rainbows and blah!"

"You seen that shit Queer Eye? Fucking disgraceful shit. I don't want that on my TV."

Troy was tired. He's tired of the shame coating his stomach as Dallas' words washed over him. He's tired of looking at Dallas and just seeing the man he loves, despite his flaws. He's tired of wanting him.

"What happened to your eye?"

Oh yeah. He's tired of fighting people on the ice for shit Dallas says.

Troy rocked a pretty black eye from on of those fights. "I also play hockey. Physical sport."

The stranger hummed and picked up his newly acquired drink, which was pink and fizzy. Troy stopped himself from wrinkling his nose at the pansy drink.

He couldn't stop himself from wanting to try it too.

"I couldn't do it. Not good for business, you know?"

"What business?"

"Oh, I act a little. Some modeling."

"Something I would know?"

"Uh, maybe. If you know superhero shows. I'm on Adventures of a Secret Hero."

"Oh!" Troy had heard of it. He'd only watched a few episodes on planes, but- "Holy shit, you play Marcus Flyer."

"My name's Adrian, but sure."

"Troy," he responded awkwardly. Fuck, fuck, this guy is properly fucking famous. "So… by a little acting, you meant-"

"A lot." Adrian laughed and shrugged. "I have a new superhero movie coming out this year with Rose Landry and I'm filming a movie in Toronto for the next few months."

That's really cool. Troy had never met a movie star before, other than awkward passes during random events. "So… What are you doing in a bar like this?" Troy gestured to the, admittedly, dingy bar the Guardians liked to crowd. The rest of the team wasn't there, but it's not empty.

It's definitely not the glamorous club he's sure someone like Adrian attended.

"Oh, I'm just looking for fun." Adrian sipped his drink and looked at Troy from the corner of his eye. "Maybe for something a little dangerous."

Dangerous? Like drugs?

"You might have a better time scoring at one of those clubs downtown," Troy offered. "Unless weed is your vice, you're not finding anything else here."

"That's not off the table, but also not what I meant." Adrian waved his hand and fuck Troy if he couldn't tear his eyes away from Adrian's perfect fucking hands. Is he drooling? "I meant more like actions I probably shouldn't do."

Actions? Like-

And then Adrian Dela Cruz fucking winked at him.

Blood rose to Troy's cheeks as he decidedly turned his gaze forward.

Was Adrian Dela Cruz, hot superhero on screen and fucking hot dude in person, flirting with him? With Troy, disaster of a hockey player? What the actual fuck was happening?

"So?" Adrian's voice took Troy out of his panicking thoughts. "I might be wrong here but… Do you want to get out of here?"

Troy mouth moved before he knew what happened, "Fuck yes I do."

"Good." Adrian drained his drink and stood. "Come on, pretty boy."

Their relationship was hot in the way secret relationships were hot. They both happened to be inexperienced with gay sex, so they learned what they liked together. They learned how much lube to use and how long to stretch beforehand. They learned what toys helped and what overstimulated.

They didn't have to worry about one party going to the paparazzi. They both had the same secret and neither wanted to be out publicly. It made it safe. They felt safe.

Texts were cryptic. Phone calls were taken behind locked doors and never in hotels because they both knew how shit could be bugged. Maybe they were overcautious, but overcautious meant safe.

It also meant lonely, but Troy ignored those thoughts. He had a boyfriend for the first time and that meant he couldn't be lonely.

There were days Adrian didn't text, later on claiming his filming set was hectic or cameras were following him too closely. Those were the days that Troy felt the loneliest, unable to talk to anyone about his relationship, even to the relationship. Troy always felt guilty about that.

You have a boyfriend. Be grateful. Stop being too clingy, guys hate that shit.

Dallas complained about how annoying clingy girls were, how he needed to breathe and be free. Troy knew guys felt that way, so he couldn't become that to Adrian too.

Over the next two years, Troy's obsession with Dallas cooled. It didn't dissipate altogether, but it stopped residing in the forefront of his brain. The locker room was the worst, the gym sessions when Troy spotted for Dallas and had a front row seat to the way his biceps flexed under the harsh lighting.

A few months into his secret gay relationship, Troy barely noticed when Dallas lifted his shirt to wipe his forehead in the arena gym.

Barely.

The loneliness was bad, but not the worst of days. No, the worst days were the ones when Troy's mind wondered to Dallas when his hand worked his dick, lube already shining on his fingers. Those were the days Troy would avoid Adrian's video calls, too filled with shame and hatred to look into his perfect boyfriend's face.

Troy thought Adrian was perfect. Until he wasn't.

"It was just fun." That's all Adrian said to dismiss their two year relationship.

"Fun? Adrian, what- I mean, yes it was fun, but not only that. We are more than just a fun fuck."

"Honestly, Troy. You didn't expect this to go anywhere, did you?" Adrian laughed once. "You can't even fucking come out to a random food driver! You won't come out to your dad-"

"Who's a raging homophobe," Troy argued.

"-or your team-"

"Who are also homophobic."

"-much less the whole world! What, you thought we would stay together in secret forever and it's all okay because that's what gay people fucking deserve?"

Troy blinked as he shook his head. "When did this become about coming out? We're on the same page about our careers coming first."

"I changed my mind." Adrian folded his arms. "I want to come out. I don't want to hide my own identity anymore. Are you going to come out with me and tell the world that I've been fucking your jock hockey ass for two years?"

Here's the thing about Adrian: he knew where to hit to hurt the most. He can be cruel when he wanted to.

Troy stared blankly at his boyfriend. Honestly, they take turns doing the fucking, but-

"Yeah, I thought not." Adrian grabbed his dufflebag off Troy's coffee table, probably full of the few things they dared to leave at Troy's house. "You're never going to come out. You're going to be repressed and sad and pathetic for the rest of your life, and I don't deserve to have to do the same to myself."

That was the last time Troy saw Adrian Dela Cruz. In person at least.

Now, it seemed like Adrian was everywhere: the billboard down the street from the arena, the bus that passed Troy at the red light, YouTube ads, even a goddamn magazine in Troy's dentist waiting room. Everywhere he fucking looked, his beautiful model/actor ex-boyfriend stared back.

Troy blinked at the screen of his phone. Adrian… engaged? It had been three days since the awful last scene in Troy's living room, but now he's…

How long had Adrian been cheating on him? How long was Troy so fucking stupid? Why hadn't he seen it?

Troy called in sick to work and stayed the day in bed. If only he could fucking talk to someone about this, but the only person he had walked out and was now very publicly engaged.

Adrian was right to call him pathetic.

Fuck.

Me Too Movement's New Victim: Dallas Kent

by Timothy Guerra on Nov 9, 2020

This past week, four women have anonymously come forward with allegations concerning star center of the Toronto Guardians, Dallas Kent. A source close to Kent said, "There's no basis for these claims. Kent is a good guy, you know. He's a great player."

Dallas Kent has an extraordinary hockey career. He was first draft pick back in 2014 and incurred 22 goals his rookie year, bumping that number up to 39 the next year. Overall, Kent seems to strive to better himself every year, consistently beating his previous personal bests. Kent is even rumored to be taking over as captain when Guardian's current captain retires at the end of the season.

With Kent being so well loved in his locker room, though perhaps not in rival arenas, these allegations lead to disbelief. "This just isn't him" users on X — formerly Twitter — comment under news articles. The hashtag JusticeForKent trended #1 twice this weekend.

This all started when Reddit user @junglebugglet154862589 — now deactivated — posted this post online:

Last year, I went to a party at hockey player Dallas Kent's mansion. There were probably 300 people there. Alcohol and drugs were everywhere, a hired DJ in the corner and a whole catering crew. Everything was in excess, there was even an ice sculpture in the entry way.

Dallas Kent approached me on the dance floor, which was fine and innocent, until he groped my breasts.

I was 19.

I told hims I was dating someone and not interested. He didn't listen. I tried to walk away, but he grabbed my waist and held me there. He told me he could do whatever he wanted because it was his house and his party and his friends would never stop him. He proceeded to slide his hands into my underwear there on the dancefloor. No one looked twice at us, even though I tried to grab people's attention. Everyone was too drunk and high to notice.

I cried on that dancefloor as he assaulted me. He whispered disgusting things in my ear as he got hard from my distress.

This man is double my weight and a half a foot taller than me. I couldn't fight him as he pulled me into a bedroom and threw me on the bed. He gave me a drink and told me to calm down so he could get what he wanted. I hoped the drink was drugged so I wouldn't remember what was going to happen. I was not so lucky.

I remember every minute. When he ripped my underwear, when he pulled my hair so hard I screamed.*

Dallas Kent is a rapist. I am sure I'm not the only woman he's done this to. He was too confident that nothing could touch him. I do not deserve to cry silently at night. He deserves to be thrown in jail. He deserves for the world to know what he did to me. Fuck you Kent, you ruined my life. I hope you never are able to hurt anyone else.

*graphic descriptions of rape have been edited out

People online have dismissed the post as fake and a cry for attention. Dallas Kent has not made a statement about the allegations and the Toronto Guardians have not made any move to remove him from playing at this time.

Troy read the article with a sinking stomach.

He remembered that party. He remembered chirping Dallas about that fucking ice sculpture because it costed thousands of dollars. What better way to prove that I got the big bonus this year Dallas had gloated.

Troy remembered trying to find Dallas that night. Troy wanted to leave early but also desperately wanted one last look at his best friend in that tight fucking shirt he had on. But Dallas was hard to find through all the bodies crowding the main floor of the mansion.

Troy eventually found him coming out of a bedroom, sweaty and a self-satisfied grin on his face.

"Hey, Barrett!" Dallas had hooked a thumb back towards the bedroom. "I need to thank whoever brought the good ass tonight."

Gah, gross. Troy didn't let that show on his face though. "Yeah, I don't know. Definitely wasn't your mug." Troy clapped his best friend's back. "I just wanted to say by before leaving. Nice rager man. Good for you to shove your money in the rookies faces."

"Sure you don't want to sample the merchandise?" Kent had wiggled his eyebrows at him.

Troy assumed Kent was drunk, so drunk and maybe a little high that he acted more douchey than normal.

Troy never would have guessed he had just finished raping some poor girl. Now looking back, he believed it. That cocky asshole would fucking relish in having that control over someone.

To think that this was the man Troy drooled over for six years. The man that Troy stood up for and jerked off to and befriended and went out with. The man he had some weird foursome/orgy thing with. The man Troy dreamed about being with when he allowed himself to dream, even during his relationship with Adrian.

This fucking man was who Troy lusted after?

Troy barely made it to the bathroom before he threw up his lunch.

"You're a piece of shit rapist, Dallas!"

Troy promised himself he would stay quiet. This wasn't Troy's business and if management had any proof of these allegations, Dallas would be suspended. Hell, if the allegations were real, cops would be involved.

But then Troy had seen Dallas' face. He was laughing.

"Poor chicks just want five minutes of fame," he had joked. "They only know how to make themselves victims. If they wanted my dick so bad, they could just ask."

Troy saw red.

If this wasn't Troy's fight, then whose is it? Who will stand up and defend these women? Management didn't seem to give a fuck, coach acted like it's a distraction, their teammates fucking joked along with Kent.

If not his fight, then whose?

Troy shouted before he knew what he was doing. The ice went quiet as eyes darted to him.

Troy squared his shoulders. The dreamy illusion he possessed of Dallas Kent for all these years had finally shattered. He's a homophobic, bigoted fucking asshole and Troy was going to make it his fight now.