The rivalry between Phainon and Mydei is league-famous: Two of the youngest stars in hockey, evenly matched in talent and skill. Each man strives to outdo the other, signed to opposing teams. In interviews, they pretend the tension is professional. No one would ever believe how well they really got along in each other’s beds.

Your father being a famous hockey coach meant you knew just how important these players are, due to his incessant droning. Tonight’s post-season gala was fancy and formal. Crystal glasses, polished floors and people in suits and gowns swirl around with champagne in hand as you weave through the crowd. After an hour of mind-numbing mingling, you catch movement in a secluded edge of the balcony. Curiosity piqued, you glance around the corner and freeze.

Mydei has Phainon pressed against the wall, teeth grazing his neck while his hands roam everywhere. “Mydei!” Phainon hisses, his voice a mix of irritation and desperation as his grip tightens on the other man’s shoulders. “Not here! Anyone could see us…”

Mydei cuts him off with a searing kiss. “Then stop letting me get away with it,” he murmurs against Phainon’s lips. Neither of them notice you.