The two squeezed onto Adam's bed, after popping a movie into the VCR.
"Do we want to go play hockey tomorrow?" Guy asked, curling up against Adam.
"I can't. My wrist," Adam trailed off.
"Oh shit, how could I forget?" Guy picked up the scarred wrist and kissed it lightly. Just this past fall, Adam had received more surgery on his wrist, when they removed the metal plates. To the doctors, hockey was out of the question.
"Hey, Adam, have you tried since October?" Guy asked.
"No. I'm not chancing it."
Guy nodded. He knew all this already. He knew that after Adam's last surgery, that he truly wouldn't play hockey again. He could see the light in his eyes dim.
"What time is our plane tomorrow?"
"3:15pm. We have to be at the airport by 1," Adam said sleepily.
Guy nodded to himself. The guys said the game would start at 10. Guy was going to get Adam out there on the ice.
Adam's mom stuck her head into the bedroom not to much longer later. Surprisingly, it was Adam who was still awake, and Guy who was asleep.
"Hey," she whispered, "You guys alright?"
"Yea," he looked down at Guy.
His mom stepped inside, "What happened with Charlie?"
"He tried to apologize. I accepted," Adam stared at the TV.
"But you're happy, right?"
He looked over at his mother and smiled, "Yea. I am."
"Good," she stepped over to the bed and kissed her son on the forehead, and left a quick one of Guy's forehead as well.
"Mom," Adam whined.
"Goodnight sweetheart," she winked, clicked the light off, and closed the door behind her.
"Who was that?" Guy mumbled.
"My mom."
"Ooh."
"Go back to sleep," Adam chuckled.
Guy woke up the next morning to an empty bed, and the smell of pancakes. He panicked for a moment, thinking they missed the hockey game, but it was only 8:07 in the morning. He picked himself out of bed, grabbed the nearest shirt, and went downstairs in his boxers and tee-shirt.
"Hey sleepyhead," Adam looked up from his plate.
"Good-morning," Guy said to both Adam and his mother.
"Pancakes?" Adam's mom asked.
"Sounds great Mrs. Banks."
"Coming right up."
"So," Guy looked across the table, at his boyfriend, "We're going to the pond today?"
"Guy," Adam didn't sound like he thought it was a good idea.
"C'mon, we don't have to play. We don't have equipment anyways."
"Adam, dear, I found your ice skates in the garage the other day. I'm sure they still fit," his mom piped in from the stove.
Guy looked at Adam with a "Look you have to come" look.
"I don't know," Adam shoved another fork full of pancakes into his mouth.
Mrs. Banks set down Guy's plate in front of him, and Guy ate it quickly.
"Well, I'm gonna go get dressed," Guy stood from the table, "Thank you for breakfast, Mrs. Banks."
"It's Marie dear," she corrected him as he walked out of the dining room. Adam still sat at the table, pushing his food around his plate like a 6 year old who didn't like his vegetables.
"Sweetheart," Marie Banks sat at the table, next to her son, "You should go. It'll be good to see everyone under less mournful circumstances. You haven't seen them since the summer before you started at Loyola."
"I know. I do miss them. But my wrist," Adam looked down at his right wrist. Even just holding the fork made it ache. It was so weak.
"Tape it up and play your heart out. It's what made you happy."
"But I am happy. I'm happy not playing."
"Don't lie to your mother," she smiled, "I can see you want to get out there. And you told the boys you'd be there. Don't let them down."
"I can't play. It hurts."
"Don't think about the pain, and it won't be there," his mom stood from the table, and reached for his plate, "Finished?"
"Yea," he said, standing reluctantly, "Thanks Mom."
"No problem dear, now go get dressed. Your skates and stick are just inside the door, to your left.'
He grabbed his things from the garage, and noticed he had two pairs of skates, and he grabbed the other for Guy, and grabbed another stick.
When Guy came out of the bathroom, dressed, he was shocked to see Adam equally as ready, sitting on his bed.
"It's almost 9:00, we should get going. The rink's a little bit of a walk from here," Adam said, standing up, "I found a pair of old skates. They should fit you," he passed them over.
Guy smiled, and wrapped an arm around Adam's waist, and wordlessly, pulled him towards the door. He was holding Adam's hockey gear for him.
They arrived, sticks in one hand, skates in the other, at the rink. They were still a bit early, as it was still raining, and they opted for borrowing Adam's mom car. And they were still early after stopping at Guy's to pick up all his hockey gear.
"Wanna do some laps? Get back into the groove?" Guy asked, looking over at Adam.
There was terror and fear all laced through Adam's eyes. Last time Adam picked up a hockey stick was fall semester of his freshman year at college, and that
did not turn out well.
"I forget," Adam whispered, "Can we just leave, please."
"Forget what?" Guy looked down at Adam, who was still sitting.
"How to play."
"It'll come back to you. You're a natural."
"Guy, please, it'll be embarrassing. They're expecting the old Adam Banks out there on the ice. Not the crippled one, who can't even hold a fork."
"Sweetheart," Guy sat back down, "Baby," he took Adam's face in his hands, "Come here," and Guy led him over to the booth where they could rent ice skates or hockey equipment.
"Do you have any tape?" Guy asked.
Within seconds, the clerk produced the white tape. Guy sat Adam down at a nearby bench, and wrapped the wrist with love, placing a kiss on the inside of Adam's wrist for good luck.
"That's so sweet," Julie said, as her and Russ turned the corner moments before, and witnessed the whole thing.
"Yea," Russ said, letting go of Julie's hand and wrapping it around her waist, "Let's leave them alone, and get on the ice."
"Good idea," Julie agreed, but took one last look at the couple before heading out onto the ice.
It was halfway through the game, when Adam decided he actually wanted to go in and try to play.
At first he couldn't handle the puck right, and he kept losing it, with comments like, "Come on Adam, you can play better than this," from Averman, and a "It's no fun playing against you - it's like stealing candy from a baby," from Luis.
Guy watched painfully from the bench, as Adam kept getting crushed and tossed all over the ice.
Finally, Dwayne went in for Adam, and Adam took a seat on the bench. First thing he did was pull off his glove and looked at his wrist.
"Does it hurt? Maybe you should stop playing," Guy said, immediately next to Adam.
"Nah, it's not that bad. The tape helped. I just can't keep control of the puck. It's fucking pissing me off."
"Adam, you haven't played in two years. It's alright. It's coming back to you, I can see it. Just play like you did for the Ducks. Play because you want to," Guy said.
Seconds later, Adam went back in, this time replacing Jesse. Guy was still sitting out because his head was still spinning from when he got nailed into the boards by Portman.
Jesse plopped down next to Guy, "I thought he fucked up his wrist and couldn't play."
"Hockey's in his blood," Guy said, watching Adam gain possession of the puck, and go sailing down the ice. Not an ounce of pain crossed his face.
Guy jumped to his feet and watched as Adam sailed the puck past Goldberg into the goal.
Adam turned to look at Guy, and grinned. He scored. Adam Banks was back.
By the end of the game, Adam had scored two more times, and Guy had even re-entered, once his head felt normal. It'd been a while since he'd taken a fall that hard.
"Good game guys," Fulton said, when they all gathered on the ice to collapse and talk.
"It was weird without Connie. I've been playing hockey with her for as long as I can remember," Averman said.
"Tell me about," Goldberg said.
Nobody brought up the fact that Charlie never showed.
"We need to get going," Adam stood up, speaking for both him and Guy, "We've got to be at the airport by 1."
The others stood up to bid their farewells.
"Listen you two, don't wait for another funeral to bring you back to Minnesota," Julie said, giving them both a hug.
"Yea, two years is a long time," Dwayne added.
"Why didn't you tell us sooner?" Fulton asked, looking back and forth between Adam and Guy.
"We," Guy started, but Adam finished, "We didn't know how to tell you guys. I don't know why we didn't, but I definitely feel better now that you guys know."
"So looks like you've got your game back Cake-eater," Jesse playfully hit him on the shoulder, "Whatcha gonna do with it?"
Adam looked over at Guy, who was right up next to him, bodies touching.
"I don't know, I'll figure it out eventually."
"C'mon, we really should get going. We've got class tomorrow, hell we had class today," Guy said, "It was great seeing you guys again. This summer, definitely, we'll have to get together."
"Yea!" Portman said, hitting Fulton's arm.
"Bye guys!" Adam said joyfully, skating off the ice.
"Later," Guy smiled, shaking his head, and skating right behind Adam.
Guy reached over for Adam's hand, and pulled it to his lips, leaving light kisses on each of his knuckles.
"A penny for your thoughts?" Adam murmured, his head back against the seat, a lazy look of love in his eyes.
"I was just thinking about us, and about Connie."
Adam bit his lip.
"I feel so bad that Connie felt that only solution to her problems was suicide. Did you see all those people there for her? I don't understand how she felt so alone. I just feel so lucky to know I have you," Guy thought aloud.
"You'll always have me," Adam whispered.
"I love you Adam."
"I love you Guy," he closed his eyes slowly, and reopened them.
Guy leaned in for a little kiss, and pulled away.
"How's your wrist?"
"It doesn't hurt. Surprisingly."
"Are you thinking about going back?"
"To where? I love it at Loyola. I love being with you."
"I could talk to Minnesota, could get them to come out and see us, see if they still want me to play for them, and to see if they want you. They've always wanted you Adam."
Adam parted his lips into a smile, "We'll check it out, over the summer. How about we get through finals first."
"Sounds like a plan," Guy kissed Adam's hand once again.