Ben wasn't trying to make his complete lack of punctuality a habit, even if its persistency made it seem that way,
He'd been late for every team practise for the last three weeks, and his coach was really starting to take notice of it.
None of this stopped him from being late once again on this particular morning however.
Despite his deft ability on the ice, Ben nearly went flying across the highly polished floor of the rink lobby as he entered it, barrelling past several regular customers and a receptionist who briefly didn't recognise him, and tried to ask him for ID, or to pay.
He managed to catch himself against a pillar however and generally prevented himself from making an embarrassing scene, to his relief.
Ben heaved a deep sigh and glanced at his watch- regardless of his best efforts, he was still nearly twenty minutes late.
He stood up straight and padded over the large window at the back of the lobby; it looked out over the main rink and served as the perfect method for him to check if at least his team hadn't started the bulk of the practise.
What he was met with however, while at least confirming his hopes to be true, also left him immediately confused.
Around nine people were out on the ice, each of them tall, slender, and moving at such speeds totally unachievable by someone in full hockey gear. They were ice-skaters, professionals no doubt, and they were moving about in pairs on the ice. The odd one out was stood by the edge of the rink, leaning on the barrier and having a heated conversation with a huge man that Ben did recognise- his own coach.
The other people he could see through the glass were the rest of his entire team, but none of them were dressed for practise, and none were out skating. Instead they were bundled up on the stands, all looking thoroughly unamused.
Ben frowned and started towards the double doors that led down to the spectator seats, rather than the locker room as he had been planning to.
As he opened the door, his face was immediately blasted by cold air from the ice, making the tip of his nose steadily change from pale skin, to aching red. He lumbered down the stairs, hoping to join his team mates unnoticed, but a few turned to see him as he approached, and shook their heads, clearly very unimpressed- at least the coach hadn't seen him.
"You have no idea how lucky you are" one said to him once he had taken a seat in the stands- it was Remi, the right defenseman, and about the only person on the team that he would call his actual friend,
Ben grimaced, "What's going on?"
"Figure skaters" another of his teammates grumbled- Erno the right winger, "Fucking puffs need the ice to practise apparently"
That made the ravenette all the more uncomfortable. There was somewhat of a 'Don't ask, don't tell' sensibility within the world of professional ice hockey, something which had always been a problem as far he was concerned,
He shook his head however and continued, "So what? We can't do anything? Didn't we have the ice booked?",
"Doesn't look that way"
One of the older members of the team then sighed and turned to regard the rest of them- it was Yupe, the left winger, "We don't book the ice, the team is based here so it's an unspoken thing that we get to practise when we want" he then paused and gave a less than enthralled look to Erno, who had of course, been so forthcoming about his particular distaste for the situation, "The figure skaters however, do book the ice. Because their team practise is seasonal and infrequent",
Ben licked his lips and looked out over the ice, "So we're waiting for now?",
"Yes" the senior-teammate nodded, "And for once, we're not waiting for you",
The ravenette blushed and decided to watch the skaters instead of drawing more attention to himself.
He hadn't started playing ice hockey with the intention of becoming a professional in the sport, but now he was there, he was hardly going to complain. It made sense, Ben was built for the sport, he was good on the ice once he grew into his tall stature, and it kept him busy and well-paid. It was also an excellent outlet for his personal issue.
Watching the figure skaters before him now however, he was shocked by how different their skill set was,
Each one was as tall as a hockey player, but with half the mass, their legs and arms covered by highly toned muscles, but nothing like that of Ben or any of his team mates. They were strong, but compact, carrying only as much weight as they needed to control themselves and others on the ice. In comparison, their speed was insane too, some of them moved so swiftly, it was as though they were barely touching the ground, flying instead. To top it off, they were all but gymnasts too, as they bent and even contorted their bodies, as they glided on the flawless ice.
Ben had never watched the figure skating before, despite working in the same environment for nearly fifteen years, and now he was starting to truly believe that he had been missing out.
One couple at the back was particularly interesting to him.
At first he found it a little hard to differentiate the man from the woman, but their movements soon made it clear, as the redhead led the blonde on the ice, as he would in a dance of some kind.
The woman was of a larger stature, taller and more muscular than the redheaded man she skated with. Her hair was cut short, and was slicked out of her face at current, showing off her red cheeks and exhausted expression.
It wasn't her that Ben was interested in however.
From the moment he had seen the bright orange hair streak across the ice, he was intrigued.
Whoever he was, he was tall, slender, and incredibly graceful on the ice, his long limbs bending subtly to guide him into wide, but fast turns, covering huge amounts of space in only moments.
When he got close enough to be seen in his full glory, Ben became captivated by the sheer concentration on his face, and was only knocked out of the fixation when he led his partner in an impressive manoeuvre, in which they moved in synchronisation, both drifting about the ice on one leg each, backwards and holding hands, as they skated in a long curved line.
When they came to an eventual stop, they high-fived and nodded to one another, sharing a few words.
The redheaded man looked as low on energy as his partner, and his hands quickly found his narrow hips as he heaved out several long breathes.
The blonde broke away from him, and skated over to the barrier on the far right, collecting a water bottle from a bench on the other side,
He still wasn't finished however, as after only a few more seconds of rest, he turned and began to skate up the length of the rink, gaining speed drastically. His path began to curve as it had before, until the turn became so tight that he began to spin in an incredibly smooth pirouette. With one hand held high, and one long leg sweeping out, he slowed, came to a stop, and then made his way over at crawl to his partner, as though his last display hadn't been carried out to perfection, as it had. His nonchalance was chilling- no pun intended.
"Wow" Ben said softly, smiling,
"Ben?"
He quickly looked to who had addressed him and found that the entire team was staring at him, with his coach at the head of the congregation, an almost middle-aged man that they simply called 'coach'.
"Eh- yeah?" he asked, bringing his duffle bag up to rest on his lap, trying to seem attentive,
"Great, now that we have Solo's attention-" the gruff man said, folding his arms, "-the figure skaters are finally finishing up on the main rink-" the way he said the words 'figure skaters' almost made Ben more uncomfortable than the way Erno talked about his distaste for certain sexual preferences.
"-so you lot better get to the changing rooms, and be back out here on the ice in ten minutes"
With a general murmur of confirmation, all of the men stood from their seats, and began to shuffle down the narrow gaps between them to the stairs,
Ben hitched his duffle bag over his shoulder and prepared to follow them, quickly forgetting the figure skaters- the figure skater (singular) he had been watching so intently, and getting into the hockey frame of mind instead.
"Solo"
He stopped in his tracks again, and slowly turned to his coach, who had once again snapped his name,
The cold wasn't helping, but his cheeks began to tint red, "Yes?"
"Don't think I didn't notice you rolling up late" the man said,
He looked somewhat like a bulldog, but at moments like this, when his voice was low and threatening, the resemblance was uncanny,
"Sorry coach" Ben replied, gulping softly,
"I'm not looking for apologies" he snapped, "I'm looking for committed team members who are brutal in their craft, I'm getting half of that from you right now",
"I am committed! I swear!" the ravenette said quickly, "I just- I just need to get an earlier train, that's all it is, I promise. I will be on time",
The coach looked unconvinced, but after a long moment he nodded, "Alright then-" he then looked to the ice where the figure skaters were just starting to leave, still moving in pairs, and he grimaced, "Get changed, I'm sick of the sight of you"
By the time Ben got to the changing rooms the rest of the team were almost entirely undressed, but determined to not be the last out on the ice, he stripped in seconds flat and pulled on his gear as quickly as he could. He then grabbed his stick and helmet, and trod as quickly as he could on his skates out to the rink.
The coach was waiting at the gap in the barrier between the ice and the stands, looking mildly impressed that Ben had made it out so quickly, but otherwise appearing as stoic as ever.
To his own surprise, Ben wasn't all that interested in his coach however, as for a fleeting second, just as he slid onto the ice, he saw the retreating flash of red hair passing through the doorway to the public locker rooms.
He was reminded all at once of the graceful dance of the figure skaters- the figure skater, and a warm smile found his lips.
0o0o0
Practise had not gone all that well.
Ben was distracted, there was no other way of putting it, he just couldn't concentrate on the mock-game at hand.
He was of course pulled out of his thoughts when Erno slammed into his side, and quickly initiated a fight with the throwing off of his gloves. Even then however, Ben's brain was so far away, that he hardly noticed that he wasn't pulling the punches that were colliding with Erno's face, and he had to be hauled off of him by two other team members.
Erno was put aside to be looked at by a medic, and Ben, without a scratch on him, was put in the timeout box for half an hour.
While obviously, 'secretly' impressed by his aggression, the coach had really chewed him out for it, and the rest of the team proceeded to shoot him dirty looks for the rest of the day, including of course, Erno. Even if his swollen face made it hard to tell if the looks he was giving the ravenette could be considered 'dirty'.
Ben would hardly say that he was to blame, he'd been caught off guard, and it was his instinct to react like that to a fight. It was anyone's wasn't it?
No.
That was how he used to think, and he quickly scolded himself not only for getting into the fight, but for thinking that the state of Erno wasn't entirely his fault.
He didn't do that anymore, he took responsibility for his aggression, that was healthy, and that was how you worked at overcoming it.
Ben sighed, and pulled his bag over his shoulder again.
Thinking about being angry made him angrier, and sad.
He slipped past the last of his fellow players who were still getting changed, and left the locker room, planning on going straight home and working out the last of his frustrations on his punching bag,
As he had hours earlier however, he came to a grinding halt in the lobby.
The figure skater was stood waiting beside the pillar that Ben himself had almost rebounded off earlier, his eyes focused on the phone in his hands.
His hair was washed and combed into an incredibly smart style, he was clean shaven, and his pale skin was free of blemishes of any kind. For someone who looked so put together from the neck up, Ben was surprised to see him wearing gym gear of any sort, yet here he was, dressed in a hoodie and a pair of athletics leggings.
After perhaps thirty seconds had passed, the ravenette realised that he was staring at his legs, which were so perfectly contained by the tight leggings.
He let out a long breath and briefly thought how thankful he was that the redhead hadn't noticed him, well- hadn't noticed him, noticing him.
He had to say something though, Ben couldn't let this day be a total failure.
With a long breath to steady himself, the ravenette made his way across the lobby to the other man, licking his painfully dry lips as he went,
"Hi" he said with a gentle nod, hoping that his expression was welcoming, and not as awkward or uncomfortable as he was really feeling.
The figure skater blinked and looked up from his phone screen, his blue eyes immediately illuminated by the light it was throwing off, "Hello" he said with a nod, putting away the device,
Ben couldn't help but notice that the light in his eyes did not fade with the loss of his phone- and so he couldn't help but notice that that must have meant that his eyes really were just that bright,
"I'm Ben" he said, offering his one free hand,
"Hux" the other man responded, taking it and shaking it firmly.
The ravenette couldn't help but let his smile widen, "Hux" he said with a nod, pulling away his hand, "I just wanted to say that- that you look beautiful on the ice" as each proceeding word left his mouth, his smile waned and was replaced by an expression of embarrassment, as a hot blush tinted his cheeks,
"Thank you" Hux said with a nod, "I suppose, when you're not beating people up, you look quite impressive too"
Ben blinked, "When did you see-?"
"I saw you on the ice a little, from up here" the redhead replied,
"Well- that was a one-time thing, he just caught me off guard" he answered quickly, sure his flush was becoming hotter and darker by the second,
"Hmm" the redhead hummed, raising his eyebrows a little.
Ben could feel a lump developing in his throat, and he coughed awkwardly, trying to dislodge it "Listen, I was just wondering- maybe you'd like to- ehh" he rose a hand to scratch the back of his neck, "Do you want to come and have dinner with me maybe?"
There was a long stretch of silence in which Hux only blinked at him, and the longer it went on, the more Ben's embarrassment began to morph into anger, growing completely out of his control upsettingly quickly,
"Christ!" he snapped, poorly moderating the volume at which he was speaking, "You don't have to be like that, you know what- forget I said anything" he growled, turning towards the exit of the rink, and aiming to make as quick an escape as he could before he embarrassed himself any further, or got any angrier for that matter.
"No, no. I'd like to" Hux said suddenly, holding out a hand to stop him,
Ben froze and blinked in disbelief, quite sure he'd misheard him, "Excuse me?"
"We can go tonight if you like?" the redhead asked, "We could meet outside at eight? Find somewhere to eat?"
Now all the more aware of his glowing blush, the ravenette nodded, his jaw a little slack, "S-sure".