Archive of Our Own

Aloy kept her face carefully blank and wished once again she hadn’t let her agent talk her into coming to the draft in person. Even if G’s point about how the press would be “all up in our business regardless” was sound. At least if she’d been at home she could have escaped to the bathroom and screamed soundlessly into a towel. 

Instead she was sitting in a room filled with people, far too many eyes on her for comfort, as more than 200 other players had been drafted. 

She’d known she wouldn’t go top ten, even top fifty, none of the struggling teams would want to add to their troubles putting a “girl” on their roster. But she’d thought maybe, just maybe with her numbers as good as they were, with her help in leading Clarkson to their first championship ever, someone would take a chance on her. 

Seventeen spots left. Her stomach cramped and her face hurt from the half smile she’d plastered on before walking in the building. Rost was next to her, looking as uncomfortable as she felt in his new suit and tie. G was on the other side, far more at ease.

Her agent he might be, but it wasn’t his future on the line, his hopes and dreams ticking away with every name that wasn’t his own being called. Of course he was at ease. There were alternatives, but this was what she wanted, what she’d craved since she’d watched her first game, first smelled the sharp winter air and heard the hiss of steel on ice.

Of course Nil had gone early. Their numbers were nearly the same, she was faster than he was, but drafting him didn’t come with a circus of media attention. Somehow it felt like he’d looked straight at her after he put on the Nora Hunters sweater, despite the impossibility of it. He’d sat nowhere near her, G, and Rost.

Not that she’d been looking for him.

Sixteen spots left. Aloy swallowed hard. Told herself to get angry instead of upset. Tears would justify every reason teams thought they had for not drafting her. She lifted her chin and set her jaw, settling herself back in her seat a little more. No more half-smiles, faked for the cameras, not now. 

Fifteen spots. She tried not to think about how nine was her lucky number, her jersey number all through the years, and how this Stanley Cup Champion team would be a dream to play for. Her heart hammered a little harder as the Meridian Suns took the stage and their GM, Kadaman, stepped up to the mic. “For the 209th pick, the Meridian Suns are excited to choose, from Clarkson University, Aloy Sobeck.”

Rost was pulling her up and into a hug before she’d truly registered that they’d said her name and she clung to him for a moment, his words a jumble in her head. “So proud of you.” He’d never quite understood this need of hers, but he had supported it. She hugged G and then made her way up to the stage, ears buzzing.

“Welcome to the team,” Kadaman said, hand extended. Aloy shook it, going down the line of men until she reached coach Marad. He’d been a legend in his time, fastest skater on the ice, they said he’d been a ghost. More than once she’d heard someone compare her to him. 

“Aloy, welcome aboard.” His smile was warm and she hoped, wholly genuine.

She held up the Meridian Suns sweater, so absurdly large up close it was a struggle not to laugh as she slipped it over her head.

“We’ll get you some that fit, I promise,” Marad murmured, and the laughter in his voice was kind rather than cruel. 

The media storm that followed was predictable, but Aloy managed to get through it with only a single reporter asking a ridiculous question about her “realistic chances in the league.” She answered it with a smile that was really more like a baring of teeth and a list of hall of fame players who were only slightly larger than she was size-wise.

Then they were back in Rost’s truck, the silence almost deafening by comparison. Aloy fished her phone out of the pocket of her slacks, made all the more difficult by the huge sweater she was still wrapped in, and stared at the impressive number of notifications. 

“Burgers to celebrate?” Rost asked. “We could get it to go,” he added, chuckling. “You look overwhelmed, kiddo, and are probably done with people. I know I am.”

“Yeah, that actually sounds like a good idea.” Her phone buzzed in her hand and she ignored it until it kept going. The number was unfamiliar, but Aloy realized she was going to probably need to answer it for the next little while and swiped the accept button. “This is Aloy.” 

“Aloy. Fashav Luz.” The voice of Meridian’s captain was deep and smooth in her ear, and she nearly dropped the phone in her lap. “Glad I caught you. Welcome to the Suns, I’m looking forward to playing with you and wanted to let you know if you need anything, at any point, just let me know.”

She blinked, unable to decide if she was surprised or merely grateful, but managed to say, “Thanks. I appreciate it. Glad to be a part of the team.” 

“We’re excited to see that speed of yours. Kotallo says he knows your texts are probably a mess right now, but he’ll send you one later and we’ll get you set up in the chat too. Let us know if you need help hunting for housing, there’s some decent apartments in the area a lot of the guys stay at.”

Again she was left floundering for a moment, unable to string two words together coherently, but this was important. These were things she’d known she would need to take care of but at this moment, overwhelmed by everything that had already happened this evening, it all seemed like an impossibly difficult mountain to climb. One she…wouldn’t have to climb alone, from the sound of it.

“They are,” Aloy said with a laugh, pulling her thoughts together and some tightness in her chest loosening. “I nearly didn’t answer, but I’m glad I did and getting a leg up on housing would be great. Appreciate the offer, really.” She hadn’t been to Meridian, yet, and any help she could get was appreciated. “Thanks again, looking forward to getting on the ice with everyone, and I’ll keep an eye out for Kotallo’s text.”

“You’re quite welcome, I’ll get the apartment list sent your way in the next couple of days for you to look at when you catch your breath. Enjoy your night, and celebrate. You’ve earned it.”

Aloy stared at her phone after saying her goodbyes. She had earned this. Every bit of it. And now she was going to prove she belonged on the ice as much as anyone.

The Sundom shook with the roar of 18,000 people who were on their feet and cheering as the half-way point of the third period ticked down on the clock. This was by far the loudest building Nil Fortune had played in yet and currently the Hunters’ division rivals were up 2-0. It was exhilarating to say the least. Admittedly it would be more fun if they weren’t losing his first NHL appearance.

After a string of famously bad luck, the Hunters were missing a good chunk of their roster to long-term injuries which was the entire reason he was here and not still with their AHL counterpart, the Braves. 

The time there had been enlightening, although it rankled a bit when he heard Sobeck hadn’t been sent down to do her time in the AHL too. In his more…understanding moments, he could admit it made sense. If they hadn’t been willing to put her on the roster right out of camp they wouldn’t have drafted her at all, and she was good.

“Head out of the clouds, Nil, or your ass is going back to the farm!” Resh yelled. Like he had the right to make that call as an assistant coach. Maybe he did. The Hunters weren’t quite like he’d expected. Or hoped, maybe.

Sobeck had stripped him of the puck in the neutral zone first period and neatly murdered Bast, the only defender between her and the goal in a move he had to grudgingly admit was amazing. Jun would have been able to stop her, but instead of shooting she’d slipped it to Varl Sonason who tapped it in before he could slide over. 

Then Bast had flattened her late in the second period, in a mid-ice hit so clearly shoulder to head that it had gotten him ejected–after Norberg kicked his ass. Nil privately thought the little prick had it coming. He didn’t like Aloy, but no one deserved a dirty hit. The Suns captain, Luz, had scored easily on the ensuing powerplay with a bomb of a shot Jun had no chance of stopping. 

Now with seven minutes and change left in the third, she tried the same move again, but he was ready for it, and Resh’s threat rang loud in his ears. He kept the puck, made the pass to Aapo Ukan only for them to whiff on it, and Sobeck to scoop the puck back as it bounced off the dashers to race back the other way.

They were going to lose this game. Nil growled and made the sharp cut that had helped earn him his draft and chased after the diminutive redhead, full speed. Gaining ice and cutting the distance with every stride. How she managed to be so fast with such a short damned stride he’d never been able to figure out, and he’d watched hours of tape. Still, she was on a long shift, and he was gaining.

Taim was aiming straight for her, and Nil couldn’t understand why his heart skipped a beat except the understanding of what even a clean hit by someone that size would do to someone Sobeck’s size. Except it never landed. She made a fool of Taim, finding just an extra bit of speed from somewhere and faked the pass to Norberg, taking a shot on a wide open net.

Her first NHL goal.

Unassisted, because of course it was.

“Nice shot, Shorty,” he said as he skated by.

She turned to look at him, but Norberg said something Nil couldn’t catch with Taim bitching up a storm and skating between them. The big center wrapped Aloy in a hug and practically lifted her off the ice as her other teammates swarmed them. 

“Come on Fortune, you can’t even catch a girl! What did we draft you for?” Resh sneered as he dropped onto the bench. He ground his teeth into his mouthguard to keep his reply from slicing out at the coach. 

“Don’t sweat it, kid.” Aratak Johansson thumped him on the back twice, the captain’s voice pitched low to keep Resh from hearing. “Happens to all of us.”

That wasn’t right. Takki should’ve stood up for him loud enough for Resh to hear if that’s how he really felt. Maybe…that’s just how things were in the pros. Nil nodded and kept his eyes on the ice, waiting for his next shift. He didn’t like it.

Not at all.

It didn’t make him feel better that he wasn’t the only one Resh cut down that way, and it got worse as the seconds ticked away and they couldn’t pull themselves out of the three-naught hole they’d fallen into.

The final buzzer sounded and he followed the rest of the team back into the visitor’s lockers, head down and grateful none of the reporters wanted to talk to him. It caught him off-guard when he was grabbing his stuff to change into street clothes when Resh shoved him hard, sending Nil sprawling into the locker.

“You let that little girl steal this game from us, Fortune!” He snarled. “Embarrassed us on a national broadcast! Why’d we waste a draft slot on you when it’s clear you can’t do your damn job?”

Nil’s jaw clenched, pulse pounding in his ears, wanting to defend himself, to shove Resh back—but he was an assistant coach, and Nil was a rookie. He glanced around behind Resh, eyes darting around the locker room to see the rest of the team either studiously looking away or rushing out the door to the bus. They weren’t—

“Hey! I’m talking to you, rookie. ” Resh grabbed his shoulder and shook it, pale eyes blazing with what Nil could only call rage. “You look at me when I’m talking to you, and you respond ‘yes sir’ or ‘no sir’ as appropriate. Am I clear?”

Nil dared one more look around the room, now empty except for one person, Takki. His captain. Who met his eyes and walked away.

“Congrats on your first goal, Aloy!” Fashav rubbed her tightly braided hair lightly, grinning before tossing her a puck. “Snatched it from the refs for you,” he said as she caught it with both hands and wide eyes. “Dinner’s on me.” 

“Thanks!” She looked up at him and couldn’t help but smile back. Not just because of the thrill of her first NHL goal, but Fashav’s good humor was contagious. He was a good captain. Probably the best she’d ever had. “Invite Thomas, we’ve been on the road for a while, and I miss your husband. He’s nice . ”

Fashav laughed, rubbed her hair again, and grabbed his phone, typing out a message. “Since you insist. I’m sure he’ll be delighted to see you again. Our honorary little sister.”

It had been a near thing, getting her apartment straightened out. A mixup with the movers and timing left her without any furniture; rather than letting her get a hotel for the few days necessary to get things straightened out, as soon as Thomas heard, he’d insisted she stay in their guest house.

“It’s only a few days and besides, it’s still summer, the vultures won’t be after you quite yet so no need to worry about rumors,” he’d said with a smile, his sandy brown hair falling into dark brown eyes as he tilted his head. “If you’re truly concerned, I’ll make Fash treat me to that getaway he keeps promising me.” The warm, fond look he gave Fashav as he said it was enough to melt ice, and Aloy couldn’t refuse the kind offer.

They made her feel like family, older brothers she’d never had.

Now she had her own apartment, in the same building as some of the other new players. The ones who weren’t ready to get a house due to short contracts or just didn’t want the responsibility. Varl was next door, but he’d met a lovely woman over the summer and it was getting serious. He was moving out in a couple weeks.

But that was the future. Tonight was hers.

And it was one of the best nights she could recall. She really, finally, felt like she’d earned her spot. That all the hard work had paid off and she’d made it.

“Keep this up and you’ll get rookie of the year, Sobes,” Varl said, his bright smile lighting up his face as he held up a beer. “To Aloy!”

“To Aloy!”

Everything was going so well, just like she’d dreamed it would. The Suns were on a hot streak, they’d just beaten the Hunters, and nothing could bring this crashing down.

Nozar wasn’t moving. Aloy skated straight for the thug defensemen who’d flown like fucking Superman to lay a completely unnecessary hit on her linemate.

Right until Varl skated into her and spun them both around.

“It’s not worth it!”

“Let me go, Varl!” she raged, wanting a piece of the bastard who’d laid Nozar out while medical rushed onto the ice. It didn’t matter the defenseman was nearly half again as big as she was, or even that she didn’t really like Nozar, or him her, he was one of theirs. He was one of the Suns.

“The refs have it in hand, Sobes,” Varl said evenly, and Aloy’s racing heart finally slowed. He was right.

"I’m good,” she said quietly. “I’m good. You can let go, Varl.” He did, and she watched with the rest of the team as Nozar left the ice on a stretcher.

The rest of the game was a blur, and Aloy only knew they’d won by the score on the board. There was no celebration this time, just questions about Nozar—no one knew anything yet—and who they could call up to replace him until he could come back. The Suns had a few options, but none of them were terribly promising from what Aloy understood.

It was a bad spot to be in nearly halfway through the season.

They had a few days before their next game, one of those lulls in the schedule that were as dangerous to a good run as they were wanted. 

Marad had a frown on his face as they boarded the plane to head home and Aloy’s worry grew when Fashav sat up near the front of the plane with him, the pair of them in deep conversation. She did what she could to push it out of her mind and fell into a doze until they landed in Meridian. 

“Wake up, Sobes.” Varl tapped her shoulder and she blinked up at him. “You want a ride home?”

“You’re not going to Zo’s?”

“Nah, she’s on the early shift this week, I don’t want to wake her. Besides I’ve still got packing to do.” 

“Any news about Nozar?”

“Broke his right arm. Hospital in the Cut wanted to keep him overnight, because of his head. That’s all Marad has at the moment. Hopefully he’ll catch a flight home tomorrow.” Varl shook his head. “But he’ll be out for a while. They’ve probably called Conover up.” 

Aloy nodded as she grabbed her bags and followed Varl off the plane. Conover was a good kid, from their AHL team The Lights, but he wasn’t nearly as fast a skater as the two of them. 

It would be fine. 

Traded.

Nil wasn’t sure what to make of the tangle of emotions in his gut the whole time he threw things into his suitcase, grabbed a ride to the airport, even after he landed in Meridian. Confusion. Worry. Fear. 

Also more relief than he wanted to admit. After that incident with Resh in the locker room more than a month ago, he’d tried to keep his head down, do what he was told. But the assistant coach hadn’t let up and it seemed like even playing his best game wasn’t enough for the man. He’d nearly lost his temper a week ago and even though he’d reined himself in, something of the violence must have shown on his face because Resh had actually paled and stepped back. For a moment.

“Fortune!” 

He couldn’t stop the instinctive tensing, even as his brain recognized the voice of Fashav Luz. His new captain had called him when he’d been on the way to the gate, so they hadn’t spoken long but the man had sounded genuinely happy to have him on board. 

“Luz.” He offered his hand. “Good to meet you.” 

“Likewise. Janeva’s got gear for you and will show you to the locker room. I’ll see you on the ice.”

The smile Luz gave him seemed genuine, and Nil returned it as best he could, stomach roiling at the memory of Takki leaving the Hunters locker room without a backwards glance. Already being abandoned. He scolded himself for the thought. Luz had a good reputation, he wouldn’t…but Takki had. Nothing was the way it was supposed to be and he couldn’t trust any of it, not until they proved he could.

“Great,” he said, his voice a little empty even to his own ears. Nil flicked his gaze towards Janeva who looked him up and down, not appearing impressed. “Lead the way.”

“Come on,” Janeva said without preamble, turning and gesturing for Nil to follow. “Let’s get you geared up.”

This was familiar, and Janeva was the kind of grumpily impersonal equipment manager he was used to. Maybe this would be better. There weren’t many ways it could be worse.

Maybe.

Maybe.

Maybe.

Practice didn’t give him any indication of how things would be with the Suns. He’d been picked up to replace Nozar, so his spot on the fourth line was expected, and Nil knew after his time with the Hunters he was lucky to have even that.

“Today’s just to get the feel of having you on the line,” Coach Marad said, his voice soft and even.

Nil nodded and skated onto the ice, finishing up his stretches and keeping to himself as best he could.

Despite Marad’s words, every whistle made him twitch and hold his breath for just a moment until it registered that this time it wasn’t because of him. That there wouldn’t be repercussions for a fumbled pass—even if it had been sloppily sent—today, at least.

He was holed up in a hotel until he could get his apartment situation sorted. The complex he’d been given the name of where a fair number of his new teammates lived would have an opening in a few days. He could deal with staying in a hotel. Preferred it for now.

There was tape to review and a playbook to learn. He could bury himself in that. Let the familiar routine ease the tension between his shoulders the Suns trainer had teasingly scolded him for.

Studying the playbook brought with it an unexpected challenge. His thoughts kept circling back to Sobeck…she’d looked…great. Better than he remembered. Being on the Suns had given her game an extra boost he didn’t remember from their time in college.

Something was wrong with Fortune.

Very, very wrong.

Aloy knew him better than she knew almost anyone else. They’d been rivals for years, but that didn’t mean she actually disliked him. Not beyond their rivalry anyway. And now he was on her line. Her teammate with nothing to compete for except each other and the team itself.

She’d seen him flinch during practice when the whistle blew. Saw the minuscule lift to his shoulders like he was bracing for violence to erupt.

Except he’d never backed down from a brawl in all the time she’d known him.

It didn’t make any sense.

She watched him after practice as they all got ready to leave, saw that the tension hadn’t left him at all, if anything it was worse as their teammates began to leave the locker room and head home. He tidied up quickly, as if he couldn’t leave fast enough. Like he didn’t dare be the last one there. Fortune had always lingered after practice, exchanged jokes with teammates and just…enjoyed the camaraderie it seemed like.

“You’ve been watching Fortune all day,” Balahn said quietly as she grabbed her bag to leave, one of the last today. She’d been too distracted by Fortune to move as quickly as usual. “And I can’t decide if you think he’s going to bite you or run away. It’s hard, being traded, much less in your first year.”

His large hand settled lightly on her shoulder as Aloy looked up at him, his head turned slightly to one side, hiding the scars a skate to the face had given him last year.

“Give him time.”

Aloy looked at the double doors that led out of the locker room.

“It’s…he’s not like this. I know Fortune, we’ve been playing for and against one another for years,” she said softly. Something was wrong. She knew it, and there were no reassurances even Balahn could give that would make that go away. He didn’t know Nil like she did.

“Tell you what, let him get a couple of games under his belt and move out of that hotel,” Balahn said, lifting his hand away to grab his own bag. “If you’re still concerned after that, talk to Luz about it.”

That…was fair. Nodding, Aloy shouldered her bag and walked out of the arena, pushing her thoughts of Nil aside as she and Balahn discussed music--a favorite band they shared in common had just released a new album.

Not even talk of music could distract her for too long, and Aloy’s thoughts were plagued by Nil again as soon as she and Balahn parted. The flinches played over and over in her head as she drove home. He’d never done that before, if anything he would lash out. The more she thought about it, the more the wrongness of it all settled into her gut.

Fashav was a good captain. She could talk to him about Nil if he didn’t settle into the Suns quickly.

Her eyes widened as she pulled into her spot at her apartment building. Zo was directing movers. She hadn’t realized it was moving day for Varl. He must have gone to her place instead of his apartment, Aloy didn’t see his car in the lot.

“Hi Zo,” she said, lifting a hand in the dark-skinned woman’s direction and smiling. “The long-awaited day has arrived I see.”

“It has, I hope the new tenant doesn’t mind you all coming and going at odd hours,” Zo teased, her voice melodic and soothing. Aloy had always thought she’d make a great blues singer, but the nurse said helping people was her calling, and that was that.

“We’re not that bad.” Aloy didn’t stop to chat, she wanted to get a real shower instead of a rinse-off and something to eat, and Zo was busy. Back inside her apartment, Aloy settled into her post-practice routine and tried not to think about Nil Fortune.

His second practice wasn’t much better.

Nil couldn’t decide if it was just the newness of the team and how differently the Suns did things from the Hunters, or if it was him. Maybe both?

Maybe

Maybe.

Maybe.

He’d gotten a fair bit of the playbook in his head already, which earned him a nod from Marad when the coach looked at him silently asking if he needed a rundown and Nil said, “Got it, coach.”

A pleased nod? Or a ‘that’s the bare minimum, rookie’ nod?

Sobeck’s bright green gaze lingered on him as they set up on the ice. 

Puck drop.

He had this. Hockey was his life. Gritting his teeth, Nil followed the play, swiping the puck from Norberg when Sonason didn’t manage to get the faceoff.

A pretty little spin out of the way of Khuvesh who tried to get the puck back, and Nil headed for the goal, fast as his legs would take him. Sobeck was impossibly ahead of him, right where she needed to be, but Luz was coming in fast. He was supposed to pass to her. That was the play.

But he had the shot.

All he had to do was fake the pass the backup goalie was expecting and get him to overcommit.

But that wasn’t the play.

Crash.

Uthid checked him hard, sending Nil sprawling to the ice as the first-line defenseman sent the puck back the other way.

Tweet!

Everyone stopped. Nil got to his feet and skated over with the rest of the team to the bench, as Marad waved them in. He’d fucked it up. It was his fault. He should’ve just passed it. If Sobeck couldn’t get the pass around Luz, that wasn’t his fault.

“We’re going to run that one again. Why didn’t you take the shot, Fortune?” Marad asked, dark gaze piercing despite his coach’s even tone.

“Wasn’t the play, coach.” Nil’s throat was dry as he waited for the yelling to start. The screaming. The reminder that he hadn’t been good enough to stay on the team that drafted him in the first place for more than half a season and that he was a rookie who was only supposed to do exactly what he’d been told.

“If you have the shot, take it. You can out skate the old men--” laughing objections from the veterans barely registered as Nil struggled to get over his surprise, “--six days out of seven. Use that.”

And that was it.

“Yes, coach.”

There was more, none of it for him, and Nil felt off-kilter, struggled to get his skates under himself. This wasn’t how things went in the pros. He’d fucked up the play. But coach said take the shot. He skated back to his spot as they ran the play again.

And again.

Sonason won the drop only a quarter of the time, but that wasn’t surprising, Norberg was on the top line for a reason, despite this only being his third year.

He didn’t get a second look from that play before coach swapped to another and switched the lines on the ice up. Taking a few minutes on the bench, Nil caught his breath and watched the second and third lines run through plays he hadn’t memorized yet. Things were closer to what they’d been in college than during his time on the Hunters. It didn’t make sense, but at least it was familiar and the rest of practice went well, he thought.

Nil didn’t settle.

Aloy watched him closer than she should’ve, close enough that she missed a pass from Varl, skated straight into Uthid, and had a half-dozen other flighty mishaps throughout their latest practice. She was thankful at least she kept her head straight during the games.

Once again, Nil rushed through his post-practice routine and out of the locker room, the first to leave.

“Not like you to be so distracted,” Balahn said quietly as he finished getting dressed in street clothes. His locker was next to hers, and she appreciated his steady presence. He was mentoring her, unasked, Balahn had just…taken the locker next to hers, moving Nozar’s stuff to where his own locker had been and that was that. Nobody argued with Balahn Khuvesh.

Not even Fashav.

She’d asked him once, why he wasn’t a defenseman when his build was more suited for it. Balahn had just shrugged and said forward suited his nature better, that his skills matched up enough to keep him in the pros was a stroke of luck. Aloy didn’t think she was ever going to get a better answer out of him, although curiosity plagued her.

Aloy slowed her own post-practice routine down, waiting until more of the team left to reply. She didn’t want to start rumors or trouble.

“Fortune’s not himself. There’s something wrong, Balahn.”

“Not just new-team nerves? You’re certain?”

“Nil’s a cocky bastard, as certain of his own skills as any professional player I’ve ever met,” Aloy said firmly, meeting Balahn’s steady gaze. “He’s not…” she struggled to find the right word to describe what she saw from Nil now. “ Timid. I’ve seen him give coaches as much as they gave him when he thought they were wrong. He always speaks his mind, hangs out with the team, jokes and plays pranks. Nil was never the first one out of the locker room. Ever. ”

Balahn pressed his lips together, considering what she’d said.

“If this was the beginning of the season I’d tell you to wait longer, but I think you should talk to Luz,” he said finally, then shook his head and sighed. “I’ve heard of older players on the Hunters asking for trades after a few weeks, guys nearing retirement with a bit of weight to their names. Maybe there’s something more to that than just a bad team.”

She nodded and waited until she was in her car to call the captain.

“ Everything alright, Sobes? ”

“I want to talk to you about Nil, I mean, Fortune. Something’s wrong--”

“Do you have dinner plans?” Luz’s deep voice cut through Nil’s replaying the first game over in his head and made him freeze, half-dressed. They’d won, and he’d gotten good ice time for a fourth-liner. Not as much as Sobeck, but he’d just been traded.

Nil turned his head to look at the captain, who had a wry smile on his strong-featured face. 

“You ran out of here so fast I didn’t get the chance to tell you yesterday. I always take the new players out for a meal after their first home game.”

A small fist punched lightly into his shoulder when Nil didn’t answer right away and he looked to his right to see Sobeck standing there, her red hair in loose, damp waves after being confined to a tight braid. 

“Don’t leave the captain waiting,” she said with a grin. Her green eyes searched his face and she added, “He knows the best places. It was a good game so you’ve earned it. Just don’t eat too much or you’ll be even slower than usual.”

Nil just nodded and said, “Tradition is tradition.”

Sobeck’s expression shuttered and she shouldered her bag, leaving with Khuvesh at her side. The big forward patted her on the shoulder, saying nothing Nil could hear. He wondered if there was something going on there.

“Finish getting dressed then. No hotel restaurant food for you tonight.”

Luz drove, Nil’s motorcycle hadn’t arrived yet, and it was just easier to catch a rideshare or walk when he was still at the hotel. He was moving into his new apartment tomorrow.

“I suspect like the rest of us you eat, sleep, and breathe hockey,” his captain said with amusement as he pulled into a parking spot for a restaurant Nil had never heard of. “So tell me something you do or enjoy that isn’t hockey.”

Nil stared at him for a long moment, mouth working but no sound came out. Takki hadn’t…Luz wasn’t Takki. He climbed out of the car and closed the door before replying, “I paint. Nothing anyone’s going to hang in a museum, but it’s a hobby.”

“Ah, Thomas--my husband--manages a series of art galleries here in the city, so that’s actually a topic I can speak to,” Luz said with a smile. “I’ve heard enough from him to not embarrass myself at least.”

That was an understatement. Fashav more than held up his side of the conversation no matter where the topic went. They discussed hockey, art, music--

“You and Sobes go back a long way. Want an after dinner coffee? Thomas will scold, but one cappuccino won’t kill me and they make the best here.”

He didn’t really drink coffee, but he wasn’t going to refuse his team captain. “Sure.”

She thought going to dinner with Fashav might settle Nil a little bit, get him into the routines and traditions of the Suns.

It didn’t.

He still rushed out of the locker room, and on their first away game he waited by the bus in the rain until Aloy arrived. She’d rushed through her routine to try and catch up to him, and wondered why the hell he was just… standing there .

“Why’re you standing out here?” she asked, striding up to the bus, tossing her bag in the storage underneath. “We won, no need to wash off the stink of a loss with rainwater.”

Would he have stood out in the snow if they’d been in one of the colder cities? Somehow she thought he might’ve.

Nil tossed his bag in beside hers with a shrug, then said quietly, “Got to the bus and realized I wasn’t sure if seats changed on the way home.”

Dashing up into the bus, saying hi to the driver, Aloy shook her head, heading for her seat. “No. Sometimes Luz will sit up by coach if we had a bad game, but it’s basically the same.”

She usually sat in the middle of the bus, beside Balahn who always took the aisle seat. Aloy looked at her spot, then at Nil. He’d sat in the back on the way to the arena. She didn’t think he’d talked to anyone. Not really. He used to sit in the middle of the bus, too, cracking jokes and discussing highlights.

He started to slide past her, and Aloy put her palm flat on his chest, looking up into pale silver-gray eyes. Nil froze, pupils dilating as he stiffened, breath shallow.

“Sit next to me,” she said. “We can catch up.”

“Khuvesh won’t mind?” he asked, unmoving except to glance towards the door. No one else had gotten on the bus, yet. “The two of you are attached at the hip.”

She shook her head. “Nah, he won’t mind. Take my window spot, and I’ll sit in Khuvvie’s.”

Again a long pause, but then the bus shifted and Balahn climbed up the steps, dark brows raised when he saw her and Nil just standing in the aisle.

“Everything alright Sobes?” he asked quietly as he approached.

“Yeah, Nil’s gonna sit in my spot so we can catch up on the ride back,” she said with a smile.

Nil looked up at Balahn and nodded, sliding into her spot by the window without a word.

What had happened while he was on the Hunters?

“When’re you moving into an apartment?”

He’d still been holed up in a hotel when they left for their road trip as far as she knew. Aloy slid into the almost comfortable seat, conscious of Balahn taking the seat across the aisle from her. Norberg was going to have to move.

“As soon as we get back. My stuff arrived the day before we left, but the apartment needed some updates.”

“Ah. Let me know if you need any help moving stuff.”

More players climbed onto the bus, taking their usual spots, shuffling around when they saw the change in seating. Nil tensed again but looked at her out of the corner of his eye and said wryly, “And what’re you going to do? I think every piece of furniture I own weighs more than you do, Sobeck.”

“I’ll help,” Balahn said in his low, even voice, startling them both. “Most of the team will, if you tell us a time and place.”

Nil’s mouth gaped open, then shut with a snap. His lips moved with no sound coming out for several seconds, and then he said, “Thanks.”

Sitting next to Aloy on the bus was almost like being back in college. Back when things made sense. When he knew his place in the world.

The mood of the players was bright and familiar, a bus full of people flush with a win lighting up the dim interior as they headed back to their hotel. Nil felt the tension that never left him anymore slowly begin to unwind.

This was normal.

“How’s your dad?” he asked Aloy, half-turned in his seat. They’d be stopping soon, but he didn't want this moment to end, craved this normality.

Green eyes blinked at him for a long moment before Aloy answered, smiling, “Dad’s good. He records the late games and watches them in the morning before work, says it’s easier now that I’m in the pros and he can actually get the games on tv.”

Nil chuckled. He’d met Aloy’s dad a few times in passing but things had been different then, he and Aloy had been rivals as much as they’d been teammates.

“You’ve had some great highlights,” he said, letting the back of his head lean against the glass of the window, a smile stretching his lips. The first real one he’d had in months. “Worth getting up early for.” He had. More than once. Just to watch her.

That tension loosened a little more. He thought he might be able to take a full breath again.

Aloy smiled back at him, her cheeks darkening in the dim light. Was that a blush?

“Thanks. You didn’t get many opportunities on the Hunters, but you will on the Suns,” she said, tucking some of her red-gold hair behind her ear.

Nil’s gaze slipped past her to Khuvesh who met his eyes unflinching and saw the small, lopsided smile that stretched Khuvvie’s lips.

“This is a good team,” he said, feeling like this might be normal, that this was what the pros were supposed to be like. “Not like—“ He snapped his mouth shut. You didn’t talk about old teams in a bad light when you were a rookie, no matter how bad they were.

The bus shuddered to a stop and the doors opened before he could cover up his slip. Nil felt Khuvvie’s light brown eyes on his back as they all shuffled off. Had he fucked up? Was he going to get a shove to the shoulder, pinning him against the bus while everyone else grabbed their gear and Khuvesh reamed him out for his indiscretion?

Khuvesh was a veteran, and well-respected. Nil’s shoulders tightened, all the relaxation he’d felt gone in an instant, the pain of it redoubled for his previous ease. He’d fucked up. When the large hand appeared in his peripheral, Nil flinched, but all Khuvesh did was grab their bags, handing over Nil’s own.

Except he didn’t let go when Nil took the handle. “Settle in, then come to my room. We need to talk. Five twenty-two.”

Oh, so not in public, then. Drawing in a breath, Nil nodded, carefully not looking at anyone else as he slipped away through the rest of the team to get to his room. Normally, he’d have bunked with the other forward on his line, but that was Aloy, and exceptions were made. He didn’t mind having a room to himself.

Nil tossed his bag on the extra bed and slid his hands through his dark hair. It had been going so well! Until he fucked it up. Like a stupid rookie. He knew the rules, and the price for breaking them. Drawing in a breath, he straightened and headed for Khuvesh’s room like he’d been told.

It was late, and there was no one else in the hallway, which made it a little easier. There was no one to see his shame. Nil stared at the number beside the door and drew in a breath, hand raised to knock, hesitating.

This was going to hurt. Khuvesh was big, even for a hockey player.

Knock. Knock.

“Come in.”

Nil opened the door and slipped inside, shutting it quietly behind himself. His chest tightened. It was hard to breathe.

Luz was there. His captain sat in the room’s desk chair while Khuvesh sat on the edge of his bed, leaning on his forearms. Both of them watched him carefully.

“Fortune,” Luz said slowly, softly, his dark brows furrowed. “What do you think is happening here?”

They were going to make him recite his fuck-ups?

“I fucked up.” Nil stood in his best ‘at attention,’ trying not to let his voice crack. “I disparaged—“

Luz’s hand went up, palm out and Nil’s lips stopped moving. “Do you want to sit?”

“No.” He could protect himself better if he was standing.

“Tell us about your time with the Hunters, Nil,” Khuvesh said, and Nil thought there might be sympathy in the veteran’s expression. “What really happened.”

“You’re not in trouble, Nil.” His captain watched him too carefully, waiting. “No matter what you tell us.”

He wanted to puke. Instead, Nil nodded and started talking.

Aloy watched Fashav and Balahn hover around Nil at breakfast in the closed-off hotel restaurant the next day and wondered what happened last night. She’d heard Balahn ask Nil to stop by his room before bed, but nothing else. At one point Marad sat down with them, too, getting up again after a few minutes of hushed conversation, pulling out his phone. Their coach’s expression did not bode well for someone.

She wanted to go over and ask what happened. They couldn’t be trading Nil. They needed him!

“Earth to Sobes. Earth to Sobes,” Varl said with a laugh, tugging on the end of her braid. “Where’d you go, space cadet?”

“Huh?” Aloy looked at Varl, then down at her half-eaten breakfast. “Just, thinking.”

“Uh huh. Zo wants me to invite you over for dinner when we get back.”

Taking another glance at the table with Nil, Fashav, and Balahn, Aloy grabbed her phone to check her schedule. She shook her head. “Can’t, Dad’s visiting and I promised to take him sightseeing. He’s never been to Meridian.”

“Ah, fair enough. We’ll get a date worked out. Eat your damn pancakes, Sobes. Whatever’s going on at that table isn’t any of our business.” Varl’s words were kind, but firm and then his expression soured. “Fortune’s been a prick since he arrived. Too good for the rest of us.”

“That’s not—“ Aloy shook her head. “Nil is a prick, but that’s because he’s a damn good hockey player. What you’ve seen isn’t like him. I know him really well, we played together for a long time.”

She was right. There was something wrong, and whatever it was he hadn’t told Fashav over their dinner together. Probably. Fashav hadn’t said anything to her about it, but then again he wouldn’t.

Still Varl didn’t look convinced, and his dark brown gaze slid over to where Nil, Fashav, and Balahn were sitting. “Alright. If you say so. I’ve never seen Khuvvie fuss over anyone else but you.” He added in a low mumble, “Thought there might’ve been something going on there, actually. He’s a good looking guy, I guess, if you don’t mind the scars.”

“Not happening, Varl,” Aloy said immediately, shaking her head before taking a bite of pancake. Her own were way better. “He’s like…an older brother. Like Luz.”

“The two of you would make quite the sight, behemoth that he is and tiny little you.”

Aloy considered Varl’s plate and how easy it might be to shove his face into it from this side of the table if he didn’t shut up about Balahn. “He’s not my type, anyway,” she said instead, hoping to distract Varl from digging. Her breakfast was getting cold and subpar pancakes would soon be just gross pancakes. She went back to eating.

“Uh huh. And do you like black hair?”

“Mhmm.”

She did, any dark hair, really. The sausages were awful, too. Tapping the screen of her phone to check the time, she sighed. Too late to get something different. They were headed for the bus to leave for the airport in fifteen minutes.

“Eye color, any preference?”

“Pale, like blue or gray I guess.”

“Silver?”

“Sure.” Aloy narrowed her eyes at Varl. “What are you getting at?”

He was grinning, a bright-toothed smile that was probably going to be the only thing to save him from Zo one day. Varl gave her an innocent look. “Nothing. Nothing. Just curious since we were on the topic.”

“Nosey. Ugh. This is gross. I’m headed for the bus,” she said, pushing the plate away and getting to her feet. Giving the table that had held her attention all through breakfast one last look, her heart stopped.

Nil wasn’t there anymore.

Her feet took her over to the table and she sat down, earning herself penetrating looks from her captain and her mentor. “Where’s Nil?” she asked, glancing between them. Their expressions were so serious Aloy felt her pancakes turn into a solid ball of dough with syrup in her stomach.

“He went to grab his things,” Fashav said evenly. He grabbed her by the forearm when she shot to her feet. “It’s not what you think, Aloy. He’s staying.”

“Oh.” The word was more a sigh of relief than anything else, and she nodded.

“We can’t tell you anything else, not yet, but I’m grateful you know Fortune so well you could see something was off.” Fashav’s words were quiet, weighed down by the seriousness of whatever had happened to Nil. “Marad and Kadaman will make things right.”

Again she nodded but said nothing. Getting the GM involved meant this was big. Serious-serious. Her captain let her arm go and she got to her feet more slowly than last time. “I’m going to head to the bus.”

The words sounded a little hollow to her own ears, but neither man commented. They just nodded.

She met Nil at the bus, in an almost eerie mirror of last night’s events. He looked—lighter though, not smiling, but like someone had drained tension from his entire body. More like the Nil she knew.

Sharp-featured and as beautiful as a perfectly ground skate. A face like that could cut or let you fly over the ice, and only the wielder knew which it would be.

The corners of his silver eyes creased, his expression almost soft when he saw her. “Hey, Sobes,” he said, tossing his bag into the bus’s storage then sliding a hand through his dark hair as he turned back to face her. “Is that window spot still open?”

“Yeah. Spot’s yours anytime.”

Dark brows rose.

“You’re not going soft on me, are you, Sobes? Giving up the window like that? To me, of all people?” He gave her shoulder a solid thump and that wicked grin was back. The one she knew so well.

“No,” she said slowly, arching one brow before gesturing for him to get on the bus. “I’ve just decided that because I can’t get rid of you, I should be nicer to you.”

Nil laughed, a loud bark that sounded like he might not believe her, but he tugged the end of her braid and leapt up into the bus.

It was good to see him laugh, and she could put up with his pride if it meant the old Nil was back. Aloy liked him significantly more than the guarded, wary player who’d replaced him. Maybe—she admitted to herself, and only to herself—she actually really liked that pride of his. It was well-deserved as far as hockey went.

He’d done as Khuvvie asked, as soon as he got a move-in date, he sent a few texts to people on the team, asking for help moving his stuff.

Given everything that had happened on their recent road trip, he probably shouldn’t have been surprised when ten of the guys agreed to help. But he was. Luz and Khuvvie were the first to arrive.

“Did you get a call from Kadaman?” Fashav asked, his captain’s expression serious.

“Yeah.” Nil shifted, still a little nervous about the whole situation. The general manager had asked him to explain what had happened while he was with the Hunters, and when he was done, Kadaman gave Nil the number for the team’s legal department.

“It’s up to you, if you want to press charges, Fortune,” Kadaman said, his tone measured and even. He reminded Nil a great deal of Fashav, although they didn’t look anything alike. “I won’t lie, it will be a fucking circus the Suns don’t need this close to the playoffs, but under no circumstances should you allow that to sway your decision. That’s from ownership. What was done to you is a crime , and should be treated as such. There’s no place in the league for that, and the Suns aren’t going to push you to hide it because that’s more convenient.”

“Want to talk about it after we get your stuff moved?” Balahn’s tone was kinder than Fashav’s unyielding one. “Now’s not really the time,” he added as Kotallo pulled up.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

They’d told him that night when Balahn asked him to come to his room and everything about Resh and the Hunters was revealed, that it had been Aloy who told them something was wrong. Aloy who’d said he hadn’t been acting like himself.

He hadn’t realized she cared. Sure, she was the only person who knew him well enough, but they’d been rivals as much as teammates. It would’ve been easy to dismiss his behavior. Or ignore it. But she hadn’t. She’d cared. She’d done something, which was a lot goddamn more than he could say for the twenty-four grown ass men on the Hunters who knew exactly what was happening.

And he didn’t know what to think about that.

Except be grateful.

Moving helped distract him, and built up an easy camaraderie with his teammates. It was familiar, and good, and God he’d missed what it was like to be on a real team. The apartment was nice, too, not so big he’d rattle about in it or couldn’t keep it clean, but there was space to set up his canvas and paints with a drop-cloth so he didn’t ruin the ugly brown carpet that seemed to be universal in these buildings. Lots of good, natural light.

It took less time than he expected, eleven people could get a lot done quickly, and his offer to buy a very early lunch as thanks was waved off by everyone. Fashav and Balahn lingered, though, and the three of them did find a quiet spot to grab a cup of coffee.

Nil relayed what Kadaman had told him to his teammates, both of whom had solemn expressions.

“Don’t wait,” Balahn said, holding his cup with both hands, making it nearly disappear from view. “Unless you don’t want to pursue it at all. If you wait until the season’s over it will make things more difficult.” Fashav nodded.

“Alright.” Nil nodded. Now that he knew what happened wasn’t normal, wasn’t the way things were supposed to be, confirmed from the top of the organization on down, his decision was easier. “I’m going to pursue it.” His lip curled at the memories of Resh’s abuses, angry now more than afraid. They couldn’t take away his spot on the team, the one he’d earned .

Resh had tried to convince him he wasn’t the player Nil knew he was, that he should be begging to stay, and accepting of all the criticism leveled his way because he was a rookie. Even the stuff that wasn’t Nil’s fault. Now, Resh would be held accountable.

“Good.” Fashav grinned, a wide, toothy smile that shone brightly. “Now, what’s the subject for your next painting?”

“Aloy.” Nil blinked. Her name had simply fallen out of his mouth at the question, as if that were the only possible answer.

Balahn’s dark brows rose and he took a sip of his coffee before saying anything. “She’s your neighbor, so that will be convenient. You may want to ask her first, though.”

His neighbor?

“Right.” Nil drank his coffee and considered just how he might go about that.

“Don’t think too hard, you might forget the playbook,” Fashav teased, getting to his feet. “Her father is visiting, so you probably won’t see much of her outside of practice until he leaves. Let us know if you need anything. Anything at all, Nil.”

Oh it was good to be on a real team again. Nil nodded, and pulled out his phone as his teammates left, dialing the number for the Sun’s legal services.

“Hello? This is Nil Fortune, I’m a player for the Meridian Suns. Kadaman gave me the number. I need to speak with someone about—“

Aloy groaned as she locked her apartment door, the predawn light a reminder just how ungodly early it was.

“Sorry about the timing, kiddo,” her dad said, seemingly unperturbed by the time. “I can still call for a ride to the airport, you know. You could catch a couple more hours of sleep.”

“No, no, it’s fine. I want to get as much time with you as I can,” she said, wrapping her arm around Rost’s waist. It had been wonderful to have him visit, and she was going to miss him fiercely.

“You spoil your old man.” He gave her shoulder a tight squeeze, and they headed down to her car to leave.

Traffic was light, but she caught construction on the way back, and Aloy barely had time to run up to her apartment, grab her bag for work, and drive to the arena for morning practice.

“Oof!” She crashed into a tall, hard body, the impact sending her careening backwards like she’d tried to check Norbie or Khuvvie until a pair of hands grabbed her.

“Careful there, Shorty.”

Aloy looked up into Nil’s face, her lungs not working correctly.

“Your smile is back,” she said, then blushed crimson, realizing just how stupid that statement sounded. But it was true. Nil’s sharp-edged smile, the confident, almost cocky grin that told the world ‘yes, I am that good and I damn well know it,’ was back.

The smile she’d missed, but couldn’t say the words aloud.

“So it is. I misplaced it a few months back, but a friend helped me locate it again.” His silver eyes—and they really were just what she liked—shone. “You look dead on your feet. Grab your gear and I’ll drive us to the arena. You can nap on the way.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled, fumbling for her keys as he let her go. “Had to drop Dad off at the airport.” Aloy froze with the door to her apartment open, brows furrowed. “Nil, what are you doing here?”

“I live here.”

Nope. Too much to process right now. Aloy shook her head and grabbed the bag she always left beside the door before locking back up and following Nil down to his…motorcycle. The one parked beside her SUV.

“How am I going to sleep riding on that?” she asked.

“You’re not. You’re going to give me the keys to your car, and I’ll drive.” Nil stood there, hand held out. “You’re going to make us late, Shorty.”

She blinked, unlocked her SUV, and handed over the keys before tossing her bag in the back. Once she was in the passenger seat and settled, her eyes fluttered shut. The car started and Aloy thought she heard Nil say quietly, “Thanks for saving me, Aloy.”

Except he never called her that. Shorty, Sobeck, Sobes. Not Aloy. It was—too intimate. She liked the sound of it though, her name on his tongue. Particularly when he said it like that, when it sounded like a caress.

“Wake up, Shorty.” A long-fingered hand grabbed her shoulder and shook Aloy gently. “We’re here. You’re going to need a gallon of coffee to keep up with me today.”

“Are we late?” she asked, scrambling out of the car, running for the back to grab her stuff, still wiping sleep from her eyes.

“Nah. We got lucky, but that doesn’t mean you can use your short legs as an excuse to dawdle,” Nil teased, giving the end of her braid a light tug. He grabbed his bag and tossed her the keys, already headed inside. Looking over his shoulder, he raised one dark brow and grinned. “You coming or not?”

“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered, stretching her legs to try and catch up. “Don’t be so pushy, Fortune.” Aloy gave him a friendly shoulder check just before they walked inside, laughing when he pretended to stumble. “Drama queen.”

“Good to know you recognize hockey royalty when you see it, but I’m a prince, Shorty, not a queen.”

Nil was back.

The news of the lawsuit hit the media like lightning struck a tree, setting it alight and sending sparks flying everywhere. There’d been a meeting with the team before the press release that consisted of a very brief explanation and instructions that it was not to be spoken of. To anyone. They had a cup to chase. The legal system would hash out the rest.

There were whispers, of course, but they didn’t last long, couldn’t on a team this good. Not with Fashav as captain.

On one of their off days Nil sat in a room with a bunch of lawyers and gave an excruciatingly detailed account of what had occurred on the Hunters. Backed up by medical records the Sun’s staff had requested during the trade—for continuity of care at the time. Now they were evidence. He didn’t know if anyone else on the Hunters would say anything, but Khuvvie had told him there were others who would, veterans whose words mattered.

What mattered more was the Suns played well, he played well, flourishing under Marad’s coaching like he hadn’t anywhere else. If he were a man inclined to ‘maybes,’ he might have wondered how different his rookie year might have been. Then again—Aloy might’ve been snatched up by the Hunters. They’d had the next pick, after all, and the thought made his mind shy away from the idea lest he lose his temper.

Aloy was tough, but so was he, and that experience had nearly broken him.

She put up with so much of his shit, giving as good as she got, it never failed to make him smile. But he wasn’t jealous of Khuvvie. Or the way she smiled at him.

He wasn’t.

Someone tapped the back of his helmet with their glove as they skated by. Nil turned his head to see his captain watching him with too-keen hazel eyes. “Did you ask her?”

“No,” Nil mumbled, looking away, grateful when Marad gestured for them all to come in. His emotions were all tangled up about Aloy, rival-teammate-friend. The last he wasn’t sure, because they had been rivals for so long, but she’d seen him.

And cared.

His feet moved, but he wasn’t going anywhere. Nil looked at Luz again who had his glove raised and one finger lifted. Only Luz could get away with telling coach to wait.

“Why not?”

Nil’s gaze slid to Khuvvie who stood right beside Aloy.

“Oh for fuck’s sake ,” Fashav sighed. “It’s not like that. Maybe— maybe— possibly— if Sobes wasn’t a rookie, but she is, and probably always will be to Khuvvie. And don’t fucking wait because I said that, either.” His captain rolled his eyes, gave Nil a very firm thump on his helmet, then skated towards coach.

He wasn’t jealous.

Muttering under his breath, Nil skated up to the group and listened to what coach had to say about the game tonight. Their last game before the playoffs, the one that decided who got home ice. 

Playoffs.

The Hunters hadn’t even been in contention in the last ten games, and here he was on the Suns, battling for the top-seed against the Northern Lights. It was utterly unreal. And yet it was real.

Showered and dressed, not first this time, he hadn’t been first since everything came out, Nil looked for Aloy. She’d driven them to the arena this morning, and he wanted to know if she was interested in having lunch with him. Which wasn’t a date because they were teammates, and God , why was he acting like a lovesick teenager about this?

Because she mattered. He caught sight of her coming out of the showers, towel wrapped around herself. Her hair was still wet, the wild mass of her red-gold curls caught up in the teeth of a hair clip. Most of them, at least, there was one defiant curl that lay upon her pale and freckled shoulder. Nil had lost count of the times he’d seen Aloy naked, just another teammate, but there was something different and he looked away from the alabaster curve of her spine, the hard-earned muscles shifting beneath her skin with every movement.

Nike, he thought, leaning against the wall and looking up at the ceiling. The winged goddess of victory in the neoclassicism style. If she’d agree to stand for him.

“Sorry to make you wait.”

Aloy’s voice, closer than he’d expected, made Nil blink in surprise, but he grinned and gave her a bump with his shoulder. “I’m always waiting on you, Aloy, you’re slow.”

A lie, she outskated him eight out of ten times. Aloy laughed and bumped him back. “Liar. Let’s go home.”

He liked a little too much the way she made home sound like it was theirs.

“You’re being weird, Nil,” Aloy said as she climbed into her SUV, waiting for him to finish buckling her seatbelt.

“You always think I’m weird.”

“No. Weird for you, I mean,” she mumbled. Or maybe she was the one being weird, watching him closely enough that their eyes met too often, both of them glancing away too quickly. “I dunno. Nevermind.”

They had a game tonight, she should be thinking about that, not about Nil’s pretty eyes or night-dark hair that she knew was soft after a wash. Not about the firm muscles beneath his clothes that she’d seen countless times before but felt like she was only just now actually seeing.

He shifted in his seat, watching her out of the corner of his eye as she drove out of the arena parking lot. “Do you want to grab lunch?” he asked suddenly, right as she was about to turn onto the main road.

“What?”

“Food, Aloy,” Nil said slowly, chuckling and sliding a hand through his short, dark hair like he knew that’s what her fingers ached to do. “Do you want to get some with me?”

“Yes.” She wanted to spend more time with him, her reply flying from her lips before she could really think about it. “Have you been to the spot of Fifth and Main?” Aloy asked, already switching lanes to head in that direction. “Khuvvie and I go there a lot.”

Nil grumbled something then said, “Not yet. New favorite?”

Why did he always get grumbly when she mentioned Balahn? She flipped through her music playlists and settled on one she knew Nil would like, classical. It had surprised her, the day she’d swiped his headphones before a game and put them over her own ears, expecting high-energy rock or punk, alternative, anything but the soft, aching cries of a violin. She’d never asked, in all the years they’d played together, what he listened to. Then again, Nil had been insufferable for a great many of those years.

“Rachmaninov. Good choice.”

He wasn’t even looking at the screen! His eyes were closed!

“Is there anything you’re not good at?” Aloy grumbled, then added, “I’m glad you like it.”

They rode in silence for the last few minutes. She considered her passenger’s reaction to Balahn some more and came up blank. Nil wouldn’t think he could take Balahn’s line spot. He knew he was good, but he also knew he just wasn’t ready to be on that top line. Assured in his skills but not overconfident. It wasn’t until she pulled into a parking spot that Nil said anything else.

“I’m not good at asking you out.”

She hit the brake hard, making the tires squeal and their seatbelts lock, staring at Nil with her mouth open.

“ What? ”

“This is supposed to be a date,” Nil said, beginning to laugh, the corners of his bright silver eyes creased. “But you’re so damn headstrong you didn’t let me say anything, you just ploughed straight ahead.”

When she didn’t move, just stared at him, Nil reached over and put the SUV in park.

He unbuckled his seatbelt and lifted his hand to her cheek. His fingers were warm, calloused.

“Aloy.” Nil drew closer, and she leaned towards him, lips parted. “You are an inspiration. I have two questions for you.”

“Okay,” she breathed, getting lost in him.

“Would you let me paint you, and regardless of your answer to that, may I kiss you?”

“Yes.”

His lips crashed into hers, hungry and wanting. They pushed back and forth, vying for control until Nil’s fingers tightened in her hair and Aloy just—melted. She moaned against Nil’s mouth as he chased the taste of her, tongues entwining. He gasped for breath and his silver eyes were half-lidded. “That’s a gorgeous sound and I’d like to hear it again, but not in the parking lot.”

Aloy nodded, then dragged him back to her for another, shorter kiss.

“Varl is going to laugh so hard,” she grumbled. “Let’s get lunch and then go home.”

Nil hummed. “I’m amenable to that proposal.”

No, no, no—

Nil skated hard, back towards their end, chasing down the Khopesh forward who stole the puck. Their defensemen were all tangled up, there was no one there but Lawan! They couldn’t let the game get tied back up. Not now.

But there was Aloy, always faster than him and on a direct collision course with a player twice her size. Except all she did was steal the puck right back and clear it, time winding down as it impossibly shot past the mass of bodies to slide into the Khopesh’s open net.

The horn sounded.

It was over.

They’d won. The arena exploded with noise and Nil threw both helmet and gloves aside before crashing into Aloy, lifting her off her skates and spinning them both around. She kissed him even before he’d set her back onto the ground and the rest of the team arrived, shouting and hollering, overwhelmed with emotion, and it was all so good and right and just how things were supposed to be.

Aloy had her eyes covered as she sat on his couch, waiting for him to unveil her painting. She squirmed with impatience and glowered at him. “Stop dawdling, Nil, I want to see it! Your other paintings are so good.”

This was the first painting he’d done since the start of the season, and the first painting he’d done with a live model in more than a year. Aloy was patient though, at least as far as holding still while he sketched and then did his base painting was concerned. He’d forbidden her from seeing it, even the preliminary sketch, and she’d teased him endlessly that she was going to sneak a glimpse while he was sleeping every time they stayed at his apartment. 

He just made sure she was too exhausted to even consider moving, although he didn’t think she’d actually look. Now, holding the finished piece, he thought it was probably his best work.

“You can look,” he said, heart in his throat. It mattered what she thought.

Aloy opened her eyes, and gasped.

“Nil! Nil! Oh my god it’s so beautiful! That’s me? ” She stretched out her fingers towards the painting then stopped, looking up at him. “You really see that when you look at me?”

He nodded, words not forming properly on his tongue. “Nike, goddess of victory.”

Their eyes met, and she said softly, “I love it, and you, and I think you should come here so I can show you just how much.”