Sector 2814

Aranel Took's DC Comics Fanfiction

Ice Time

“I changed my mind. I think we should play basketball.” Kyle looked at the white surface dubiously. He couldn’t believe he’d let Guy and John talk him into this. 

Guy skated over, decked out in a University of Michigan hockey jersey, stick bouncing along the ice. He skidded to a stop in front of the bench, scraping up a shower of ice. “Get your ass out here, Rayner.”

Kyle sighed. The last—and only—time he’d been on skates, Jen had taken him skating on a date. He’d lasted all of ten minutes and had vowed to never put skates on again.

But at the bar a few nights ago, with the Stanley Cup Playoffs on the TV, Guy and John reminisced about playing hockey:  Guy had played in the intramural league in college and John had played in school as a kid. And under the influence of too many beers, Kyle and Hal had agreed to a two-on-two game: Sector 2814 vs. Honor Lanterns. And now here he was, two thin pieces of metal attached to the bottom of his feet. He was sure that somewhere, Jen was laughing at him.

Not that he didn’t like hockey. He’d been to a couple Kings games in L.A. He just preferred it when other people played the game and he was watching with a beer in hand. 

He put the helmet on, picked up his stick, then grabbed hold of the boards and took a tentative step out onto the ice … and promptly found himself flat on his back, looking at the rafters of the arena. 

“You wanna trade teammates, Johnny?” Guy called out.

“Nope.” John skated over and peered down at Kyle. He was wearing a Detroit Red Wings jersey and looked comfortable on the ice though he hadn’t skated in years. “You all right, Kyle?” 

Kyle sat up. “Yeah. Fine.” Except his hip hurt and he was freezing already. This was such a bad idea. “These are different than the last skates I wore.” Those skates had been been longer, with teeth. The shorter hockey skates had just disappeared out from under him.

“Wussy figure skates,” Guy sneered. He slapped his stick on the side of his skates. “These are real skates.”

“Right. Whatever you say.” Kyle pushed himself up and, with help from John, got himself standing upright. Great. Good. Now as long as he didn’t move, he’d be fine.

“This isn’t so hard,” Hal said. He skated by Kyle, stick on the ice, doing exactly what Guy and John had showed them. 

Kyle frowned at his boyfriend. Show off

“Except for stopping,” Hal said, suddenly going wobbly. “How do I stop?”

“You—” John winced when Hal fell over, sprawling out on his belly. “Not like that.”

Kyle couldn’t help but grin, glad that he wasn’t the only one to fall. 

“California boys,” Guy sighed. “Never see any ice except in their drinks.”

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“How’s the bruise?” Hal asked. 

Kyle frowned and readjusted the ice pack on his hip. He was glad to be home, freshly showered and in pain. “I think it covers my entire ass,” he grumbled. 

“You made the save,” Hal said. “That’s good.”

Kyle shrugged. John had gotten the puck, tried to score, and Kyle — defending the goal — had managed to get his body between the net and rapidly moving frozen rubber. Unfortunately it had found a gap in his hip pads. He’d fallen backward, right on his already bruised hip. But he’d made the save. The Honor Lanterns had won, 3-2. “I suppose.”

“Let me see.” Hal knelt down by the side of the couch and lifted the ice pack. “I think you’ll live.”

Kyle lifted his head to look at his hip. It was already an amazing array of colors. “You sure?”

“Positive.” Hal leaned over and gently kissed the bruise. “Anywhere else hurt?”

Kyle raised his eyebrows. “You going to kiss it and make it better?”

Hal smiled and slid his hand over Kyle’s thigh, his fingers pushing under the leg of his boxers. “I suppose I could.”

Kyle grinned. Maybe getting bruised up playing hockey wasn’t so bad after all. “I can think of a few places.”