Chapter Text
The next morning—or rather, the middle of the night—when III woke, he had been confused why he felt so restrained—so held—especially when he remembered falling asleep mostly on top of Vessel. He was groggy, and trying to roll onto his back, but more than one pair of arms held him still.
“It’s just Ivy and Two... they wanted to join us, worried about you and wanted to be close is all.” III heard Vessel’s whispered and harsh voice speak, and his eyes were snapping in the direction he thought the other was, tired eyes blinking rapidly to try and see Vessel more clearly.
Vessel pressed soft lips to III’s forehead, “go back to sleep, I got you.”
“What times’it? Why’re ya still up?”
“Some time after three in the morning? I can’t sleep.”
“ Can’t , or don’t want to?”
A soft rumbled came from Vessel’s chest, one of Vessel’s hands coming to hold the back of III’s head, slowly tucking III’s head back against his chest. “Both. I don’t want to sleep, therefore I can’t now.”
“Why don’t you want to sleep?” III’s hands run up Vessel’s sides, under his sleep shirt, tracing over the soft muscle lines on Vessel’s skin, trying to pull him closer in the process.
“Because I’m worried about you, Sweetheart. You’re holding your breath longer than usual; I had to wake you just to reassure myself you’re still with me.”
“I’m okay, Vee... I promise, it wasn’t even that hard of a hit.” III tries to reassure Vessel, but then he’s feeling Vessel start to tremble.
“It was hard enough that it knocked you out. You scared the shit out of me, I thought you wouldn’t wake up.” Vessel’s voice cracks and shakes, tightening his arms around III. Suddenly a wet nose is pressed to Vessel’s back, and he can’t help his wet laugh as Himbo whines. “Come on up, Bo,” he says, patting his hip, and Himbo easily climbs into the bed, laying mostly over Vessel’s legs.
Vessel takes a breath, petting Himbo’s head over his thigh. “It scared me. And you’re holding your breath more than usual. We were told to keep an eye on you while you slept, so I am.”
“Would a blowjob convince you to sleep?” III tries to ask seductively, waggling his eyebrows at Vessel, but a snort from behind III startles them both.
The snort grows into barely held giggles, and then II’s tired face is popping over IV’s shoulder. “Is that how you usually convince him to sleep?”
“Why are you awake?” III asks instead, turning his head enough to see II.
“He’s a light sleeper. Have you been listening the whole time?” Vessel supplies before turning his attention to II.
“Not the whole time, just from around you telling him the hit knocked him out. Seriously though, you’ll probably catch clips on the internet tomorrow, but Vessel looked like a wreck. The whole team—the whole arena—was silenced by the incident, both how hard they hit you, and by Vessel’s reaction to it.”
“Just- can you two please go back to sleep?” Vessel whispers. II listens, laying his head back down, tucking himself closer to IV. III breathes against Vessel’s neck a moment, before lifting his head once more, connecting his lips with Vessel’s before the other man can tell him to go to sleep again.
Vessel practically melts into the mattress, worries seemingly washing off him from soft kiss, his eyes fluttering shut, blinking tiredly when III pulls away. “Try to get some sleep, please? Bo is here, and so are you, nothing is going to happen to me.” III whispers against Vessel’s lips before fully pulling away, tucking his head against Vessel’s shoulder again, allowing Vessel to tug him a little closer while they get comfortable.
Miraculously, Vessel was able to get some sleep. And so did III; not a full night's rest, but he did return to sleep until their various alarms began going off in the morning, which they all quickly reached to turn off when III had suddenly rolled over, pressing himself against Vessel with a sob. IV swallowed thickly, rubbing a hand over III’s chest soothingly,
It took a few minutes to calm him down, but he did, he calmed enough they assumed he had fallen back asleep. He hadn’t. He was genuinely just trying not to start crying again. Today felt like too big a task for him.
That was how the next few days ran. Soft cuddles, sweet touches, and Himbo alright right at their hips, in range to step in and help III, but far enough that he trusted them all to take care of his owner with him.
Finally, days later, Coach let III get back on the ice with strict orders to play nice. Naturally, III had frowned at that, but he hadn’t minded all that much, not when he was able to tail Vessel for their drills and mock games. The man complained, whining about why III had to follow him , but it was all in good nature, as he, in return, wrapped his arms around III every chance he got.
It was sweet, and soft, and sickening to their teammate's how doting Vessel was, making sure III was drinking his water and eating the right amount, and making sure he had snacks, and all the touch and comfort he deserved. So much so, III’s entire mood had flipped.
He had gotten out of bed early that morning, not because he couldn’t sleep this time, but because he did sleep. Quite well, if you asked him. He woke up while II and IV were on their usual morning run, and quietly slipped from the bed, pulling on some of Vessel’s clothing, which hang baggy on his lithe frame over Vessel’s more muscled body.
III made his way downstairs, practically gliding over the floor, Himbo trailing behind him. III let Himbo out back so he could use the bathroom, heading back to the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea while he started on breakfast.
He moved around the kitchen with ease, grabbing some eggs from the fridge, the bag of hashbrown, a small onion, and some cheese to grate after the dish was done. He grabbed the cookware next, pausing to let Himbo back inside, the dog coming to lay at the entrance of the kitchen to watch as III grabbed the pan, a chopping board, a knife and spatula. He started with the hashbrown and egg first, letting those warm in the pan while he chopped up the onion, checking them every so often.
He heard the front door open just as he was finishing up the first portion of the food, and a minute later II and IV were poking their heads around the corner into the kitchen.
“Oh- good morning, is Vee still sleeping?” II asks, breath heavy, sweat practically running down the sides of his face, and III has to bite his lip and turn his attention back to the food he was plating.
“Yeah, I was just about to go wake him. You two gonna head up for a shower?”
“Do I get a kiss if I say yes?” II asks cheekily, having seen the pink tint to III’s face as soon as the taller man seen him.
The flush on III’s face grew brighter. “You can have one after your shower.” III snips back, finally pulling away from the counter, carefully stepping over Himbo, “you look hot all sweaty, but you smell like a stinky boy.” III grins, pressing a quick kiss to II’s cheek before heading upstairs himself.
“Vee bee~” III coos, entering Vessel’s room and slowly laying down against Vessel’s chest. “I’m making breakfast, Vee.”
Slowly, Vessel opens his eyes, tired and sluggish, and when he realizes III is back in his bed, he winds his arms around III, pulling him closer, nuzzling his face against III’s cheek.
III giggles, wrapping his arms tightly around Vessel in return, tangling their legs together, despite the blanket being in the way. “Yes, yes, you big cat of a man, now up. I made hash.”
Vessel blinks slowly, “like... the drug? For breakfast? I didn’t know we were feeling that bold this morning.” He rasps, voice dry with sleep, but damn if it doesn’t sound sexy.
III hits Vessel on the arm for that. “Not a drug, you idiot! Food! Hashbrown with egg!”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes! Now let me go before I burn your house down, Jesus,” III huffed when Vessel finally let him up.
III nearly runs back downstairs to finish up breakfast for II, Ivy, and himself. Vessel joins Him a few minutes later, only wearing a pair of III’s jogging pants low on his hips. He comes up behind III at the stove wrapping his arms around III’s waist, pressing a kiss to his exposed shoulder—his shirt hanging over his over his shoulder—before settling his chin there, watching III cook while he sways them slowly side to side.
III softens at Vessel’s touch, melting into the man behind him the longer they stand there wrapped up together. The moment felt so soft, III almost wished they could stay in it forever; where no darkness could creep up on them, no violence from their games or playfights on the ice, just this calm and domestic stillness that III couldn’t help but crave sometimes.
He wished this could be how every morning was. He wished, only sometimes, that they didn’t play hockey, that they weren’t celebrities, that they could always be this soft and unrushed with their lives.
He didn’t remember eating. Didn’t remember turning the stove off, or doing the dishes, or pulling his shoes on while Vessel went back upstairs to pull the rest of his clothes on. The drive to the rink was nonexistent in his mind, same with pulling his gear on. He didn’t remember stepping onto the ice, but he was there, stood in front of Coach at the benches.
“Are you sure you’re okay to be on the ice today?” Coach was asking.
“Of course, I am. I feel useless just sitting on the bench, Coach.” III spoke, though it felt he had no real control over what he was saying, his mouth on autopilot while he tried registering his surroundings.
Himbo was sat on the bench beside Coach, watching III as if his life depending on him watching his owners every move. He stood then on his hind legs, front paws keeping balance on the wall while he sniffed the air around III.
A grin crossed III’s face, taking a glove off one hand while he pats Himbo’s head. “Hi, buddy,” Himbo whined, pressing his nose to III’s cheek, “none of that, Bo, we’re okay.” III said gently before letting Himbo pull away.
“Sure? You don’t seem... here.”
“I’m here, Coach, I’m on the ice, I’m petting my dog, and I won’t get into a scuffle with Vessel today.”
“Careful with that proclamation, we might think you’re an alien.” Coach teases, earning a snort from III. “Just. Hmm, keep it tame? I don’t need you getting hurt again, we still need you for the next game, yeah?”
“Aye, aye, captain.”
“Coach.”
“That’s what I said.” III grinned, skating away from the benches, going to join IV with his warmups. He thought about telling IV of his foggy memory, but he figured that might only raise more concern. He was fine.
Practice ran smooth and easy, they did practice shots on Adam and II, ran some drills around the ice. Someone had—somehow—convinced III to show them some of his ice skater moves, which then turned to III showing half of the team how he zigzags around his opponents (when he’s not charging directly into them).
It was fun, and light, III took off the thicker layers to his gear, doing a few spins, such as a simple camel spin, the team giving him all the space he needed to take a jump, and, although it felt wonky on hockey skates over his custom ice skates, he still managed flawlessly with the landing, spinning with his arms over his head, holding one of his legs in the air behind his back while he spun faster and faster before breaking off in a soft, backward glide with his right leg extended behind him, doing one more slow turn on the ice to face the others.
He shifted a little uncomfortably, never used to the spotlight on him for these occasions. Idly, he thought he might like to do this more. Not the performing in front of his teammate's aspect, but rather, the creative aspect he had while dancing.
A thought crossed his mind then, but he brushed it aside for now. He’d have to call his brother for his input on that.
“So, you’re like. Flexible, then?” Cody asks, only to receive a smack on the arm from Olen. “Hey- what!”
IV couldn’t help his laugh. “For dancing his whole life, yeah, he’s pretty flexible.”
“Damn, he can get freaky in bed then, can’t he, Vess?”
Vessel sputters, meanwhile, III just crosses his arms over his chest, a cocky smirk on his face, “that’s an answer you’ll have to figure out via personal experience, Cody.”
“Fuck- wait, can I actually?”
“Mate, what the fuck!” Olen smacks his arm again.
III cackles, “fuck no you can’t, stay curious with that new sexual crisis of yours.”
“It is not a crisis!”
“Whatever you say, mate.” Stacy shakes his head with a grin.
They all laugh as the break apart again, III moving to do another spin, but getting dizzy, crashing into someone instead and sending them tumbling onto the ice.
“Woah there, sweetheart, you’re pushing yourself too hard. It was only a minor concussion, but that doesn’t mean you should immediately be doing all this once you’re allowed on the ice again.” Vessel’s voice is a soft blanket being placed over the blood rushing in III’s ears now.
“I’m fine, Vee.”
“I know you are, but I’d still like for you to sit on the bench for a bit. If not, then I can keep you down here.” Vessel’s strong wrap around III, and he wants to stay there, the cold ice pressing into his skin was nonexistent with the warmth Vessel provided.
“I’ll sit on the bench if you sit with me.” III says, and Vessel easily agrees, letting III up and following him to the bench.
They ended up sitting out for the rest of practice, not that III noticed, the time blurred, and a blink later, he was sitting in the changeroom, removing his skates, with IV sat beside him.
IV had pulled out his phone, opening his e-mail. III couldn’t see what he was doing, but he did notice the way IV’s breath caught in his throat, and his shoulders tensed. And then an audio played.
III’s blood ran cold, a voice saying the name ‘Ivory’ with the distinct sounds of someone begging, pleading for something to stop.
Ivy’s phone hit the floor between his feet, the changeroom deathly silence, the only sound to be heard coming from Ivy’s phone, a moan, a cry, begging. IV’s hands shook, and his breath came in sharp and quick.
III acted quickly, snatching up the phone and pausing the video, only just keeping the noise silent as it threatened to come out of his throat. The scene that appeared on the screen was of Ivy . And it did not look like he was enjoying himself, especially with the accompanying messaging of;
Just a reminder for you. - A
It was a blur once more, of moving bodies, and chatter, a car engine. It all slipped past III, barely able to comprehend more than Vessel’s soft touch, guiding him to a booth in a secluded corner of a cafe.
“What was in that video?” II asked, eyes turned toward III, resting his hand resting on IV’s thigh under the table.
III didn’t speak. Vessel wasn’t beside him, his brain still feeling like it was on autopilot, and only came off autopilot when the other man was beside him. Finally, when Vessel did come to sit beside him, passing out the respective coffees for everyone, III spoke. “It was a sex tape. Not- not one that looked consented to, the act didn’t even look pleasurable. It was blackmail.”
IV’s shoulders shook in a silent sob, the tears having stopped, but the heaving breaths continued. “I didn’t want any of you to know about that,” he sniffled, wiping his nose with one of the table napkins.
“Who was it from?”
“You know who it was from.” IV’s voice sounded small, broken and exhausted. Like he had given up and he deserved no better than this, and that made all their hearts break.
“You need a restraining order against him. He should not even have a career anymore, not with- fuck, with everything he’s done to you that you won’t say.” Vessel says.
“I can’t, Vess. I can’t anymore. There are too many videos he could make public and ruin my life with. I can’t do anything, I’m cornered, I always have been, that’s why I can’t do anything.”
“Fine. Don’t do anything, I’ll handle it.”
IV’s head shoots up, his hand reaching across the table to grip Vessel’s hand desperately, despite the clear flinch of his hands being in pain. “Don’t. I don’t want you involved; you could get hurt.”
“I’ll be fine. He can’t do anything to me; it’s you I’m worried about. Let him try touching me and I’ll make him feel as small as an ant. I don’t play about this, it’s wrong, and you should not be going through this. I care about you too much to let this keep going.”
And that was that. Vessel left no room for Ivy to argue, but he did, however, share a look with II, who nodded, as if reading his mind. They were pretty famous, so that meant they had connections.
Whatever it took, they’d protect Ivy and put an end to Lachlan's Career.