Chapter 428: Foppa XXVIII—Taste the Morning After

Oddly enough, Peter slept. Sleep without dreaming, hard sleep, waking up only after he could smell bacon and eggs, and hear the morning news, that surprised Peter. Losing sleep came easy to him and over far lesser things in life, but when he’d slunk from Patrick’s hotel room, away from his snake charmer eyes, and away from that child who could not have been a child, Peter dropped into bed and fell asleep.

“…third cow on the Crestfield Dairy farm to show these symptoms,” he heard the serious, husky voice of a woman news reporter say, “Test results from the two previous cows came up negative for Mad Cow, and experts want to inform the American public that there is no reason for panic at this moment, of course the main fear being public aversion to dairy and beef…”

And then the smell of the bacon, the smell of coffee, Peter opened his eyes, aware of the cavernous ache in his belly, and then aware of the hollow pain in his chest, the raw scraped soreness elsewhere. He closed his eyes and wrinkled his nose, made one move to get up but hot flash, searing pain, embarrassed, violated awareness overtook him and he groaned, his fingers curling to fists. Disbelief overtook him, how could he have? How could Patty have? Why couldn’t it have been a dream?

“…been milk producers for years, so taking my milk off the market could hardly make a difference in anything seeing as people been drinking my product, so far no one’s been sick yet I think this is just unfair media attention on my farm over a few sick cows that haven’t even been proven to be sick with anything important…”

Fork scraping over a plate, clink, the sound of chewing, Peter opened his eyes again and wanted to eat, his stomach twisted with hunger. But he didn’t want to move. The pain wasn’t so bad, a lot less than a visit to the urology department, or an exam for appendicitis, he could remember pain like that and being in tears over it. Mentally, however, he couldn’t shake off the embarrassment, and the anger, and the helplessness of just… he stuck the tip of his tongue out and his blood rushed through his whole body… liking it! The taste still hung on his lips and tongue, it made him aware, and it woke him up.

“Feeling okay there Pete?”

Forsberg looked at Modano, felt suddenly aggressive and irritated, he didn’t want Mike talking to him or looking at him, he wanted to hit him, to beat him down for asking. The feeling passed quickly however when he saw Mike’s soft brown eyes, large like a deer’s or rabbit’s, and he could see the concern just twitching on his lips, from one roommate to another.

“Sure I’m fine,” Peter said and his voice caught and crackled, he cleared his throat. “I just had a late night.”

Modano nodded, “I can tell. Are you hungry?”

“Yeah.” Peter blinked and his eyes stuck closed, and with his eyes closed he could see naked flesh, hear Patrick’s low moan of pleasure, deep, bass, resonating, he could feel Chloe’s wispy breath on his chest. How had that ended up? Where did the girl go, what was she doing now? Hell, had Patty even let her go.

“I ordered enough food for both of us; I didn’t think you’d want to be up and out early, not until practice.”

“You read my mind Mikey,” Peter said and wincing, sucking it up he rolled on the bed until his feet rested on the carpet, he curled his toes. “All that looks good.” He leaned towards the food cart and grabbed a plate and fork, shoveled food onto his plate. Grease, calories, slippery foods that could twist the guts during a strenuous skate, but he didn’t care as long as that yawning cave in belly filled.

“Find a girl or something last night?”

Not too unusual a question, most roommates were inquisitive about each other’s escapades, nothing kept secret. Peter looked at Modano with one eye, and noticed the man’s expression, soft and caring, concerned, almost like the eyes a sweet faced movie actress from the forties would have. Lamb, Bambi, fuzzy, warm… “Sure.”

Modano nodded. “You know Pete, if you’re still hurt from Jo, I mean we can talk about it, I’m here for you man. I don’t want to see you hurting yourself or tiring yourself out prowling around, it’s not healthy you know.”

“Since when has fooling around on the road been detrimental to a man’s performance?” Peter asked and he couldn’t hide a sarcastic edge, a defensive edge. He chopped at the eggs and bacon with his fork, mashed them together before taking a bite, and then another.

“Look I know it’s the manly thing to do,” Mike replied calmly, “But after a relationship like yours Pete, it hurts. We’ve all been hurt but it won’t make you feel any better to just act out like that, I just know that it’s not often we find other options to express our pain, I can be an option Pete, I just want to be your friend.” He smiled, a small smile, an encouraging one and despite himself, Peter had to smile back, and he felt warmed somewhat, detached from the lacerating horror of last night.

“Thanks,” he said. “I don’t want to talk about it though, it’s over.”

A brief flash of Jo went through his mind, her smile, just her smile and like a click it blacked. All of a sudden that woman seemed alien to him, apart from him, something that had been there and now wasn’t, like an appendage he wouldn’t soon miss. What he could taste now, smell, feel, want, was everything from last night. Baptism it felt like, almost like a brainwashing obliteration of everything he had once been, and dunked into another world that he could have from now on.

In the shower Peter leaned against the tile wall, watched his skin go from pale to pink to red with the hot water. What egged him now was the feeling in his thighs and belly, a want, a realization that something itched and he wanted more. He wondered about Patrick, would he want to go again? But no, he thought of Patrick’s flashing eyes, annoyed, eyes and words that said, “I’m through with you, disposable piece of shit.”

He threw me away like a used condom, Peter thought and he grinned. Used and tossed, used and tossed, for all Patrick had known or cared, raped and tossed, raped and tossed. Peter laughed and felt aroused and bothered now, he wondered if he could find a way to corner Patrick, overpower him and turn the tables. Scenarios, images, thoughts flashed through his mind and he felt more and more blissful with each one.

Who the hell would have pegged Patrick for a homosexual? Peter thought as he got out of the shower, dried off. As far as Patrick’s tantrums and rages went in the locker room, or his solemn silences, or his flashing eyes when he roused the team during a bad game, he didn’t seem the type. Of course Peter couldn’t admit to knowing much about gay men, or even being around then, he admitted to himself that all he could base anything on was the stereotypical Bambi eyed gay boy on sitcoms or drag queens. And as far as Patrick’s cruelty last night, no he wouldn’t have expected that either. He knew about Patrick’s domestic issues sometimes, but overall that silly smile and dimples, boyish eyes, Peter could never have imagined Patty being able to do it last night. After all, he was just…. Patty.

Would he tell?

For a moment he felt panicked and then he relaxed. Of course he wouldn’t tell without exposing himself. He wondered suddenly if Patrick had done this with any other teammates, and how long had he been like this, did Michele know? Christ, and how many other players were just like him then? If it could be Patty, it could be….

The bathroom door opened and Mike Modano leaned in, smiled, his hair styled, over styled almost tall and puffed, “Hey Pete, wanna come downstairs as soon as you’re dressed, it looks like Danny and Alex got into some sort of trouble...” Modano backed out closed the door but Peter couldn’t help notice for that moment Mike had not made eye contact, and he had not looked up.

…anyone.

Now Peter couldn’t stop his cheeks from burning when he left their room, Modano at his side. Should he say something? He felt awkward and he wondered if Mike did as well, or at least could sense it. Could be or might not be, Peter realized how dangerous his situation was now. Of course Modano hadn’t just checked him out in the bathroom, it would be conceited to now assume that every one of his teammates checked him out on a regular basis and wanted to screw him. Still, that was how Peter felt about most women.

Oh this could really screw up my head! Peter thought. Just because I like men, just because Patty always did and I never expected him to, doesn’t mean that everyone in the flipping NHL is gay.

Still, he peered at Mike when he wasn’t looking, and he had to wonder. Nice ass too… Haha, now I’m checking out his ass. And he thought of Joe, and his previous desire for him, the soft wet, shy kiss on that mountain side when Joe was a fumbling concussed lovebird. Had Joe really thought he was kissing Debbie in that instant? No don’t think about it that way, get it out of your head you idiot!

Really though, Joe probably wouldn’t be able to do it like Patrick had, the man didn’t have the aggressive dominating selfish cruelty in him. Peter swallowed hard. At this point Patty would be the only one he could talk to about this with any safety. But is this what I really want?

He thought of his helpless feeling, I need you.

Jo’s tears. No one does. And she left, abandoned him, like a selfish bitch would. Like a woman would. They spoke constantly of how cruel a man could be to them but what about their own wanton destruction of a man’s feelings? Maybe what he needed was a man, it could be possible, Patrick could have just been the trigger for that change.

He saw Katrina in the lobby, as Mike proceeded out of the hotel. She stood, tall and slim and cool in a light colored, shirt and tapering slacks. She talked to one of the hotel concierge, her hair shining and pushed behind her ears, peachy skin and elegant lines. Ah Katrina of the kitty cat eyes and he’d wanted her so badly and she never gave in. Well here was an example of desirable womanhood, such as it was. He felt that old handy twinge in his groin, well he could still be hot for a woman at least.

Deciding he could wait to find out what happened to Danny and Alex, Peter went to Katrina’s side, hearing the last bit of a conversation and she didn’t sound happy. “…you possibly not know what I’m talking about. Either she belonged to a patron here or she didn’t you can’t say you wouldn’t notice a girl like…”

“Is this guy not treating you right?” Peter said smiling at her, wanting to show her how he could come in and save the day.

Greeting from Katrina, it consisted of a familiar annoyed glare, “Get lost meatball.”

Peter really felt slapped and he left her side quickly, headed out of the hotel. Icy bitch. Yeah, what the hell had he been thinking about messing with those finicky pills all his life anyway? Signs were everywhere, and he wondered afresh, is this where I’m supposed to go?

The sun shone bright and beat down upon him when he stepped outside onto the pavement. He squinted, wanting his sunglasses. Milling just down the sidewalk, near the alley he saw Modano, and Drury, Coach Hartley, Lacroix and a few other teammates. He saw Patrick and his throat tightened, just briefly. Pain, power, pleasure, ecstasy beyond belief, and here he thought Patty had always just been a gawky, waddling, cranky old goalie. Yeah, he had to grin.

“So what happened here?” Peter said when he arrived at the crowd making sure to sound as confident and carefree as he could; just to show Patrick how unaffected he was by everything. Danny and Alex leaned against the wall of the hotel; both of them looked pale, rumpled, and red-eyed and drilled, probably not in a very good mood either with each other or with themselves. “When I left you two last night you seemed fine with the video games and all.”

In fact he didn’t even look at Patrick’s direction.

“Oh God,” Dan moaned. “Video games suck!” His chin was shadowed with the beginning of baby stubble and his eyes had shadows under them so pronounced Peter had to wonder if he’d gotten any sleep at all.

“Oo they so do,” Tanguay moaned.

Peter grinned. “You’re not gonna tell me you went through every floor in that building last night?”

Dan held up two fingers. “All but two.”

“Oh they got into a little more adventure then that, eh?” Hartley said, his chin pinched in his fingers with that disapproving, motherly look in his eyes.

“Oh what happened?” Modano asked.

Alex stretched and yawned, “Oh nothing much just we run into the Asian mob, rescued a Triad boss’s daughter, the usual.”

“Yeah,” Dan agreed, “Just a typical night in LA sans the hookers.”

Peter’s gut jumped and he blushed.

“Hooker’s are so cool,” Patty said with a chuckle and Peter knew his cheeks burned even more. He wondered if Patrick saw his face and what did he think.

“Well I hope you did not do anything that would have a bad showing for the team,” Lacroix said calmly. “And I hope that both of you do not think that the Coach will be easy on you and grant you an out of today’s practice and game, I hope you got enough sleep on that pavement.”

Hartley nodded.

“Oooo Coach nooo!” Alex whined. “I’m so sleepy! You guys can do without me and Danny for a game can’t you?”

“No, we’re out Blake and Footie as it is,” Hartley said, “You’re young ponies I’m sure you’ll recuperate fine to play today. It isn’t my fault you had to break curfew and exhaust yourselves eh?”

Dan and Alex sighed in unison. Tanguay shook his head and then suddenly looked as if he’d been struck with a revelation. “Oh!” he exclaimed reaching into his pocket and pulling out a crumpled, sealed envelope. “They also gave me this letter to give to you, Papa,” and he handed the envelope to Lacroix. “They said that since you’re Pierre Lacroix of the Avalanche you would know what it’s about and that if I even peeked inside they’d come and cut off my fingertips and I don’t want to lose my fingertips so here it is I didn’t even peek!”

“Merci,” Lacroix said briskly and he turned on heel and left back into the hotel without looking back.

“Sans the hookers huh?” Chris Drury said with a smirk. “So what’s with the hickey Danny?”

And there on Dan’s throat Peter saw the crimson stain of a small love bite, not large really just a nip. Ah, taste on the tongue again, and Peter looked at Drury suddenly not sorry he’d ever nibbled on that man’s flesh. And now Patrick knew, somehow, that was a little exciting.

“Hickey?” Dan exclaimed and he pressed his fingers onto the wrong side of his neck. “Dammit Tangs did you give me a hickey?”

Peter felt his eyes widen and the rest of the guys either gasped or exclaimed something, Mike Keane busted into laughter. “Do I want to know?” Joe Sakic asked glumly and Peter looked at Joe. Ah yes, he wanted him, he wanted that, he wanted to taste everything.

“Well I had to make it realistic otherwise I woulda had to marry the Triad princess!” Alex exclaimed in a defense Peter thought he’d never hear from anyone in his life. “And admit it Danny you wanted me to!”

Dan half grinned. “Well I gotta admit Tangs; you know how to make out.”

Alex blushed. “Well hey; you got surprisingly soft lips, what’s your secret Danny?”

“I never lick or bite my lips,” Dan nodded.

“Hmm,” Alex pondered.

Could it really be everywhere? Forsberg thought in a mixture of surprise and fear. Has it really always been under my nose this whole time?