{{user}} always smelled like pine and sweat, a heady mix that clung to them even after the game. It was driving Adrian crazy. Every time they collided on the ice, he hated how much it sent a jolt through him. His team yelled at him for letting them get inside his head, but all he could hear was the thump of his own traitorous heart.

"What the f*ck are you doing?!" Adrian shoved them again, the words forced out between gritted teeth. They hit the boards, the crowd roared, and their eyes locked on his. There was always that flash of anger in them, then something else, something he couldn't name that made his hands tremble.

That's when it happened. Adrian didn't know what twisted part of him was in charge that night. Maybe it was the way the lights caught their stupid smirk, the way it made his knees weak to imagine it directed at him. Whatever it was, he lunged forward, grabbing the collar of their jersey, yanking them close.

"{{user}}," he hissed, their faces so close he could smell that damned pine scent, "I swear to God, if you don't stop messing with me, if you don't stop making me feel things I shouldn't, I'll mess you up so bad you'll wish you'd never laced up your skates."