AN: This is my attempt at writing non-fluffy bashslash. This is my first Mighty Ducks fic so, please be gentle. I have nothing else to say except Enjoy!

There was one thing that every kid knew in Eden Hall. Fulton and I were the Bash Brothers and not to be messed with. At first, that name made me laugh. When we'd first met, Fulton had hardly been the bashing type. Yeah, he was big and most kids were scared of him, but I soon realized on the ice he was a wimp.

I'd heard the stories about Fulton and I quickly realized that it was all exaggerated. The only time he'd ever hit anyone was when someone threatened the Ducks, and even then it's not like he didn't do anymore than push them around. And on the ice... he preferred to run away from any contact. I think playing with a bunch of midgets must have made him soft.

I take pride knowing I'm the one who taught him how to really hit on the ice. Some would say that I'm a bad influence on him, I take that as a complement. Why should I be ashamed that I taught him how to hit an incoming player hard enough to bruise for a week?

I remember the first day I dragged Fulton back on the ice after practice. It had been in the midst of practicing for the Goodwill games. We'd taken of our uniforms and pads, but I told him to put his skates back on and pulled him out before he had the chance to protest. He was shivering in his undershirt and sweat pants and I had simply opted for doing this shirtless. The cold didn't bother me like it did Fulton.

Reed looked really jumpy so I amused myself my skating a few circles around him, eying him up before speaking. He flipped out when I pushed him down on the ice. I could see he'd never dealt with people that were bigger than him before.

Cursing me out colorfully he tried to stand again, but I pushed him down again. For several minutes, he struggled to get to his feet, but it was far too easy to keep him down. He eventually gave up opting to sit on the ice. He looked up at me bitterly, "What are you doing?"

I moved so that I was right in front of him and squatted down, "You're a big guy Fulton. You can take it. I'm tired of you acting like a little pansy on the ice. I'm going to teach you how to use size to your advantage."

I pulled him up roughly and he stumbled unable to stand straight. He fell against me, but I pushed him away. He managed to get his footing without falling over again. I hid a smirk when I saw his face turning tomato red. I'd never pegged Fulton as a blusher.

For several minutes, he stared at his skates not moving and not saying a word. It took awhile for his face to turn back to its normal pale color, but even after that he still examined his skates.

I took a deep breath; this was not going to be easy. "Hit me"

He looked really surprised as if I'd spoken some foreign language.

"I said, 'Hit me'. Are you stupid or something?"

He still seemed confused and unsure of what to do. I narrowed my eyes, "Do I need to show you?"

I had meant it as a rhetorical question, but the idiot actual nodded. He was still staring at his skates so I don't think he saw me coming. I smashed into him grabbing his shoulders pushing him back. About ten feet from the wall, I let go of him watching him slam into the wall. He managed to slow himself down, but he still took a pretty hard hit.

He immediately pulled himself together turning toward me yelling, "What the hell do you think you're doing, Portman? You could have killed me?"

I rolled my eyes, "You asked for a demonstration and I gave it to you"

Fulton started edging away from me skating out to the center of the rink. "In case you haven't noticed, we're not wearing pads!"

I scoffed, "I can handle it. The point is for you to hit me"

Fulton glanced toward the exit clearly planning a quick escape. I sped toward him pushing him this time instead of actually hitting him. We slammed into the wall of the rink hard enough to make Fulton wince. I quickly pinned him to the wall pulling my full two inches I had over him.

He didn't fight back, but shrunk away making himself smaller. I moved my face lower forcing him to look at me. "Is there something you don't understand? I thought I made myself very clear".

I smirked as Fulton looked up at me, looking remarkably like a deer caught in headlights. He didn't say anything as I shifted placing my hand flat on the glass on either side of his head, "I asked you a question"

He opened his mouth as if about to say something but nothing came out. I leaned down pressing my chest to his causing him to blush again. He shook his head as if trying to clear it finally saying out loud, "I…I don't, don't really…um…what?"

I bit back a chuckle slowly backing away from him. I repeated, "Hit me"

He hesitated, but had the good sense to listen this time. He hit me at half-speed and I let myself slide a few feet before pushing him back. Reed was starting to look extremely annoyed at this point. I was happy about that, because the angrier he got the harder he'd hit. I decided to put fuel on the fire, "Didn't you play football? I thought you'd at least have learned a little from that."

Fulton muttered something unintelligible under his breath. He looked at me repeating what he'd said loud enough for me to hear, "I was a kicker"

I had to think back to what little football I knew and suddenly I realized what he'd said. "Wait…isn't the kicker usually the tiny player on the team that doesn't really do anything?"

He glared at me, "I'm a really accurate kicker. I almost never miss, but yeah they are usually pretty small"

I couldn't help but burst into laughter. Fulton was getting even angrier, but I was having too much fun.

I didn't actually see it coming when he hit me. He managed to push me to the opposite side of the rink. I slammed against the panes harder then I'd ever felt before, but I stubbornly refused to wince. I was shocked at this burst of strength, but not as surprised as when I felt his fingers entwine in my hair and felt him tug my head down to meet his lips. His arm encircled my waist and the kiss turned rough and passionate.

I was surprised when he broke the kiss, pushing me roughly down on to the ice. My surprise must have shown because, as he turned around and skated back to the locker rooms, he wore a big smirk. I could have chased him, but he'd seemed to have learned enough for that day.

This practice became normal for us. Every day, even when the team didn't practice, we'd always meet, and play hockey the way only two enforcers could. Every day the practice ended with a long kiss and a wordless departure. Neither of us are really the chatty types. By the time the goodwill games started, Fulton had officially become a Bash Brother.

No one questioned our closeness or the fact that we did everything together. Most assumed we just had a lot in common and the others were too scared of us to say anything.

My favorite day at Eden hall was my first day of school. The others had already been there a year, but Fulton had to show me around. I remember hearing on freshmen girls asking in a giggly tone, "Who are those boys?"

The reply made me laugh out loud, "Those are the Bash Brothers. Stay away from them, they're inseparable, even closer than brothers"

They had no idea.

AN: Please Review. I always appreciate criticism and complements. I know the ending sucked; I always have trouble ending a story.