Page 7 of Full Body Hit, Part 1 (Alpha Omega Hockey #5)
He shouldered a path to the bartender and ordered a normal beer like was decent and appropriate.
They didn’t have normal beer. They had craft beer.
The bartender handed him a Fader . He sat on a stool and took a tentative sip.
Damn . Okay. That was pretty good. Fuck this place, but a good beer was a good beer.
“Good?”
Auston twitched, glancing sideways at the Omega who had planted herself on the stool next to him. She was pretty, with dark skin and a straight, dyed-blond bob that made her look like an assassin or something.
“Better than I expected,” he replied, practically shouting over the damn music—if what was piping into the room could be considered music.
“Yeah, that’s a good one. You seem like an old-fashioned kind of guy, so I’m not surprised you like it,” she said, a little catty smile on her face.
Auston raised his eyebrows. “And how would you know I’m old-fashioned?”
The Omega traced her gaze up and down him. He peered at himself—his jeans and henley and baseball cap. Right. Probably didn’t fit the glittering masses surrounding him.
She, on the other hand, was wearing a little black dress with exaggerated shoulders and a tight, tapered waist that, in Auston’s fashion-stunted opinion, made her appear vaguely futuristic.
“Sorry we can’t all be dressed like an extra in a Bowie music video,” he teased.
She laughed, sidling a little closer.
It was a nice distraction, talking to a pretty, interesting Omega, even though his throat was getting hoarse from trying to be heard over the noise.
“You wanna go somewhere quieter?” she suggested eventually.
Every ache in his body hit him all at once.
It was trying to rally, to be interested in the beauty in front of it, but his mind just wasn’t in it.
The thought of the whole song and dance needed to ‘go somewhere quiet’—the way he’d have to figure out what she liked and provide it when all he wanted was to fall asleep.
It wasn’t that he didn’t like pleasuring his partners, obviously . But the surface-level pleasure that came with a semi-anonymous hookup seemed so much more trouble than it was worth.
If he were to go somewhere quiet with someone, he wanted it to feel real. Wanted to sink his teeth into it until he tasted blood. Until the person underneath him stopped moving and began to beg.
He shook his head. “Sorry. Just…” He didn’t have a good excuse.
The girl’s mouth pursed, twisting to the side, but she shrugged. “No worries.”
He managed to untangle from the encounter and make his way to the boys—which was a fucking mistake.
“Damn, strike out?” One of them laughed.
Auston rolled his eyes. “I’ve got more game in the tip of my dick than you have in your whole body,” he lobbied back.
The rest of the guys howled like a bunch of idiots, probably drunk enough to find that hilarious.
“Imma head out, actually. See you guys tomorrow.”
There were some perfunctory protests, but they let him go. He swept his gaze over them, taking in how Noah was engaged in conversation and not too drunk, giving him a wave, Sammy plastered to his side. Auston snorted at the sight and returned the wave.
Auston made it outside, preoccupied with his phone as he thumbed the rideshare app and almost tripping over Chase.
Chase stumbled sideways from where he’d been leaning against the damp brick wall. He was hunched into himself, not even wearing a coat to protect him from the chill.
“Sorry,” Auston said automatically.
Chase’s tight expression didn’t lighten, brows furrowed dramatically, eyes hazy with drink. “Of course it’s you,” he mumbled, words slurring together.
Auston took a deep breath. He could just step away from this. Leave Chase to whatever foul mood he was in. But… “It’s too cold to be outside without a jacket.”
For some reason, this seemed to infuriate Chase further, his mouth flattening. “What the hell do you care?”
Auston held up his hands. “Fine. Freeze to death. See if I care.” Before he could even take a step back, though, Chase was lashing out.
“You’re nothing like I thought you would be.” It was said quietly, almost to himself, but it cut Auston open.
“Excuse me?”
Chase raised his wobbly, drunken gaze to meet Auston’s eyes. “You’re…you’re mean .”
Auston was honestly stunned for a few seconds. It would have been better for Chase to curse him out, but that simple word— mean… nobody had ever applied that to Auston.
Except Hunter.
“You don’t even know me,” Auston responded, keeping his voice even by pure strength of will.
Chase made a loud, incredulous noise, as if that comment wasn’t totally fair.
“What?” Auston bit out.
“You…we’re teammates, you know.”
“Not yet,” Auston pointed out, the words coming out…
Well. Mean.
In another context, it could be taken as a joke. Right then? It was clear Auston was poking at the fact that Chase hadn’t even made it to the big league yet—that he could be sent down at any moment.
Auston watched Chase’s expression collapse, the anger falling off it, revealing the small hurt behind it.
It was wiped off a beat later, face as blank as his scent.
Auston clenched his teeth. Who the fuck was Chase to have expectations of him, anyway? You’re nothing like I thought you would be.
The fuck did that mean, anyway?
“Come on,” Auston ordered. He grabbed Chase by the arm and herded him inside where the idiot wouldn’t die from exposure. Or stupidity.
He handed him over to a surprised Sammy and Noah. “Here.”
“What—” Sammy started, but Auston made his escape, guts roiling sickly.
The ride home was spent deep in his head, hands clenched into fists, every muscle tense.
It was so fucking stupid to care about Chase’s opinions. The kid didn’t even know him, and Auston wasn’t responsible for whatever preconceived ideals Chase had of him.
Still…it fucking hurt, having left Chase like that. Having seen him so small out in the cold. It was ridiculous that Auston was regretting not having offered Chase his jacket—the kid could take care of himself, even though Auston wanted to—
No. Fuck. It wasn’t his responsibility.
He was more tired than he could ever express by the time he folded onto his couch.
He sighed long and hard, letting his head drop back, aching body melting. His apartment was still and silent. He was alone.
He swallowed roughly. Was this what life would be like when he retired? Empty space where a life used to be?
Chin-Sun’s words ran in his head.
You need someone to take care of .
It’d be nice, wouldn’t it? To have someone to pamper. Someone to look at him with big, adoring eyes. Someone who felt better just by seeing him. Maybe it’d temper whatever weird shit was going on with him when he was around Chase, too, stop him from wanting to comfort the kid.
He fiddled with his phone. Mark had texted him about an app he ‘might want to check out.’
Lookr. He found it free in the app store, a garish green with a logo of a closed eye—fucking creepy, but whatever.
He downloaded it. Input his details. Sighed explosively when it prompted him to set up a profile.
Fuck, why was everything so difficult?
Knowing he’d never get it done if he stopped now, he went to the bathroom. He took his shirt off. Took a picture. Too fucking much. Put it on again. Too fucking little.
He raised the hem above his abs, clenching, his legs parted to show the thickness of his thighs. Okay, that wasn’t too bad. Could he have just one picture on his profile?
He returned to the couch, going through his camera roll. Chose one from the back, him in trunks, skin and hair wet. And then another one he’d taken a long time ago, the outline of his dick under thin sweats.
Was it douchey? Absolutely. But he was a bit of an asshole, so at least it wouldn’t be false advertising.
He set it up, making sure his face wasn’t visible in any of the pictures. He couldn’t put his own name either, obviously, choosing to go with ‘Aunix’ instead.
Auston groaned but persevered when it asked him to put something in the bio.
Can’t meet up but not looking to play games .
That would have to do.
He swiped through a few profiles. Nothing jumped out.
He shut his screen, closing his burning eyes. It’d been a long fucking day.
Whatever was waiting for him on that app, it would keep for another time.