Archive of Our Own ^beta

Sitting on the bench rink-side, Jimmy stares with narrowed eyes as his teammates skate toward the opposing teams goal. Cub has the puck and he's kept it away from every member of the other team so far. If Jimmy had spent less time with him in practice, he might have been more surprised at his dexterity—Cub was fast for someone of his stature; it was something opponents tended to overlook.

His grip on his stick tightens as Cub passes the puck to Grian. He receives it easily, dodging around the man trying to block him. He pulls back and swings hard, the puck flying past the goalie and hitting the top left corner of the net.

His team explodes into cheers, the roar of the crowd backing them. He lets out a small 'woo', hoping nobody will notice his lack of enthusiasm.

When he woke up that morning, he'd been so excited for the game. He'd spent most of the day talking Gem and Scott's ears off about what it meant if they won. He could practically feel the Stanley Cup in his hands while he ate breakfast.

But then Scott had to go and ruin fucking everything.

Despite the deafening nature of the arena, he hears his stick creak slightly under his tight grip and he forces himself to relax before he snaps it in half.

He's been debating for the last 10 minutes on throwing his gloves down and walking out. It would be so easy to just leave, walk away from it all. What was the point of it all anyway?

Before Jimmy can finally make a decision, Grian hops into the box and claps him on the shoulder with a wide grin.

"You're in, Tim."

At least now he can focus on something other than Scott. Jimmy gives a sharp nod, shoving his mouth guard in and hopping over the wall onto the ice.

He slides into formation next to Ren, getting into position for the faceoff. If he just throws himself into the game, he can stop thinking about everything Scott said to him for a few minutes.

His grip tightens on his stick as the puck hits the ice and gets launched away from him. He sprints down the ice after it, nearly catching it before someone on the other team snatches it and heads back toward his own goal.

He curses and turns, chasing after them. They might be slippery, but he's faster. He catches up quickly, skating next to them. They glare at him and turn to skate around him. He turns with them, their sticks colliding as he tries to steal the puck unsuccessfully.

Growling, he shoves forward, checking them into the sideboards roughly. He hears them grunt as they're stunned. He takes advantage of the moment, flicking the puck away towards Fwhip near center ice.

It hits Fwhip's stick, the goal is open, they're so close.

A whistle blows and Jimmy knows he screwed up.

He doesn't usually play so aggressively, so he must have misjudged his own strength when checking the guy. He glances over at him to see him holding a hand to his head.

Fuck.

The ref skates over to them and points toward his team's box. Jimmy doesn't say anything as he turns and skates over. It's not like there was anything he could say anyway. He knows his excuse is weak at best.

Hopping over the wall, he flops down heavily onto the bench next to Martyn. He tears his gloves off and chugs half a bottle of water.

Martyn clears his throat and Jimmy snaps his gaze to him.

"What?"

"You good, mate? Ain't seen you check someone like that before."

Jimmy shrugs. "Fine. Just annoyed he stole the puck." He doesn't plan on explaining himself right now. Maybe later. When he actually has time to process whatever the fuck he's feeling.

"Right..." Martyn says, tone disbelieving.

Fortunately, he doesn't push. Something Jimmy is thankful for. He knows Martyn would insist he sit out the rest of the game if he told him the truth. But there is no way in hell he is going to sit here for the next few hours with nothing to take his mind off that.

As the game resumes, Jimmy looks out into the crowd. He scans back and forth until he spots them.

Gem insisted on getting seats opposite his teams box, saying she wanted him to be able to see her at all times. He rolls his eyes fondly when he sees her holding up a dorky sign with his number on it. Of course she would do something so ridiculous.

The small bit of happiness he feels at seeing her instantly vanishes when his attention falls to the person sitting next to her.

He should have known Scott would stay, but it still leaves a bad taste in his mouth to see him there. The absolute audacity to dump him and then sit there and watch him play. Was he trying to make it hurt as much as possible?

Scowling, he tears his eyes away from them.

Fuck Scott. Fuck him and his stupid, pretty face.

A sick part of Jimmy hopes they lose the game just to see how disappointed he would be.

The rest of the period passes uneventfully. Neither team manages to score a goal, despite his team suffering a penalty.

When the buzzer sounds, the realization that his was the only penalty makes guilt claw it's way up Jimmy's throat. He really is just weighing his team down, isn't he?

Jimmy is surprised when his team decides to put him in at the start of the second period. He was half expecting them to force him to sit out the rest of the game after his stunt earlier. He almost argued against it when Grian told him to get out there. He chose to keep his mouth shut when he realized that Grian would absolutely listen and keep him benched without a question.

He rolls his shoulders back as he stares down the guy across from him at the faceoff. He has to remind himself not to get too aggressive again. A small part of him, however, argues that he should just let go. He shoves it down as the puck hits the ice and gets knocked towards his goal. He skates after it, relieved when Ren manages to snag it before anybody else can.

They make eye contact and Ren nods toward the other team's goal. Jimmy nods in response and changes course, heading back toward center ice. He narrowly avoids skating into an opposing player as he maneuvers his way towards the goal. Ren slaps the puck his way and he receives it without trouble, managing to dodge out of the way just before a familiar face tries to steal it from him.

He scowls slightly as he shakes his head. He can't think about that right now. It doesn't matter who the other team is. It doesn't matter that he should know their play style. It doesn't matter that they know his too.

What matters is making up for that penalty. If he can just do good and prove himself, the guilt won't tear him apart tonight.

Jimmy races forward, eyes focused on the goal. If he can just do this one thing right, if he can just be a good player, everything will be fine.

He's so in his own head, repeating to himself that he can do this, that when he notices how close the other player is, it's too late. His skate connects with their stick and he pitches forward.

For a moment, it feels like everything moves in slow motion as he collides with the goalie, sending them both sprawling to the ice. His blood rushes in his ears as more guilt claws him apart from the inside out. He screwed up again.

Everything he's been trying to ignore comes bubbling up full force—he sees red. Scott's words echo in his head—your fault—and he barely registers his own movements until he feels bone crunching under his fist.

It takes a second for him to realize that he's straddling the goalie, one hand fisting his sweater, and the other raised over his face. Familiar eyes stare up at him and Jimmy freezes as what he just did sinks in.

He vaguely hears Grian shout his name from far away, and he turns his head slightly to see where he is.

The next thing Jimmy knows, he's on his back, a familiar weight on top of him as a hand flies toward his face.

Pain blossoms across his cheek. He knows instantly that it'll bruise.

Another hit, followed by a crunch and a gush of blood. His nose is definitely broken. He's sure the pain will start once the shock wears off.

He knows the next hit is coming, but he doesn't move. He wants to hurt. It's what he deserves.

Finally, the weight disappears and Jimmy is hauled to his feet. Still dazed, he looks up to see Martyn standing between him and the goalie. To his left, he can hear Grian shouting.

Looking past Martyn, he meets those familiar eyes again. There's an anger in them that he should have expected. Guilt swirls in his stomach because he knows exactly why it's there.

He's herded off the ice by Grian, his voice drowned out by the crushing guilt. He knows he's out for the rest of the game, maybe even the rest of the season. He probably just sealed his fate. He'd be lucky if they wanted to keep him after that. He'd be lucky if any team wanted him after that.

When he steps off the ice into the alley, Ren hands him an ice pack. He mutters a thanks, and leans against the wall. He presses the ice to his cheek, knowing the pain will start as soon as his adrenaline wears off.

Ren pats him on the shoulder. "Tough luck, man."

Jimmy shrugs in response.

Ren shifts awkwardly for a moment before sighing. "What were you even thinking, my dude?"

"I wasn't. Not really."

Grian scoffs. "Clearly. Go get cleaned up and rest. We'll talk about what this means later."

"Right. Yeah."

His teammates head back out onto the ice and he watches in silence. He expected more of a lashing from them, honestly. Maybe they just wanted him to stew in his own thoughts before letting him have it.

He turns to walk down the alley to the locker room when he hears a grunt behind him. Stopping, he turns back slightly. The one person he really doesn't want to face right now stands there, eyes boring into him.

Jimmy's heart clenches in his chest as he takes him—Tango—in.

Despite the blood dripping from his crooked nose, he looks good. It's been too long since they've been in front of each other like this. He feels his fingers twitch with the urge to reach out and touch him. He squeezes his hands into fists, nails digging sharply into his palms. He can't and it's his own fault.

"What are you looking at?" Tango snaps, eyes narrowed.

Jimmy grits his teeth. Of course. He shouldn't have expected anything less.

"You wanna tell me what the fuck that was?" Tango steps closer, getting in his face. "We haven't seen each other since you left and that's how you decide to say 'hello'?"

He deserves this, he knows that. But he can't deal with it now. Not after everything that's happened. He can't give Tango what he knows he needs.

"Fuck off," Jimmy grunts before he can stop himself. He shoves Tango back and heads down the alley toward the locker rooms.

Footsteps follow behind him and he knows Tango too well. He braces himself as he's shoved up against the wall. Tango's hands grip his sweater tightly. "We're not done here," he growls out.

"Look," Jimmy snaps, grabbing Tango's wrists and pulling them loose. "Sorry I punched you, but I don't have time for this." He pushes Tango back slightly and steps around him.

"Oh, you don't have time for this?" Tango asks, voice pitching up. "You started this!"

Jimmy clenches his teeth and continues walking. He shoves the locker room door open and heads inside. He's not surprised when he hears Tango follow him.

"What the hell crawled up your ass and died?" he hears Tango ask as he tugs his sweater off, dropping it on the bench of his locker.

Whipping around, he grabs Tango's sweater and pulls him close.

Their noses almost touching, Jimmy glares down at him. "Listen asshole, I said sorry, now fuck off."

He shoves him toward the door, but Tango just stands there. There's anger in the look Tango gives him—an undercurrent of something else shines through that he chooses to ignore.

Jimmy turns away from him and picks his sweater up to wipe at his face. It's already stained from his bloody nose, he may as well use it to clean up. Tossing it to the side, he moves to strip off the rest of his gear. He knows what Tango wants. It would be so easy to just say it. But he's too pissed off now to do it. Maybe if he weren't so bitter, things would be different.

"What the fuck happened to you?" Tango asks, voice quiet now.

Jimmy thinks this would be so much easier if Tango wasn't himself. If he was just some guy from the other team. He could just punch him again and move on with his life. But he's not. He's Tango, and that makes it so much harder.

He heaves a sigh and looks over his shoulder at him. "If you must know," he keeps his voice hard, hoping to keep his feelings under control, "I got dumped right before the game. So sorry if I'm a little pissed off."

Tango hums in response and Jimmy wonders what he's thinking. Does he feel bad? Does he even care at all? He finds himself hoping. Until Tango speaks.

"I wonder why," he says, a smirk spreading across his face.

Snarling, Jimmy stalks over. He grabs Tango by the front of his sweater and shoves him up against the wall. That stupid smirk stays on his face.

"What's the matter, Jim? Can't handle the truth?"

"Shut up."

"You're the problem."

"I said, shut up!"

"Why? What are you gonna do about it?"

Jimmy glares at him, heart pounding in his chest. He hates this. Hates how he feels right now. Hates that Tango knows him so well.

"Maybe I should've hit you harder," he grumbles, mostly to himself.

Tango raises an eyebrow. "Would it make you feel better?"

Jimmy's eyes widen in shock. That is not what he expected. He lets go of Tango and steps back. "Probably not."

Tango hums in agreement. "No, probably not."

"Just go," he mutters. After a moment he adds a quiet, "Please." He moves to sit on the bench, reaching down to remove his skates. He tugs roughly at the laces, loosening them enough to pull one off. Just as he sets one to the side, Tango gently places a hand on his cheek and tilts his head up.

"What happened, Jim?" He asks, tone gentler than Jimmy deserves.

"I don't know," he admits.

He has no idea what happened since they were together. He hates that things have gone this way, hates the person he's become. Most of all, he hates that Tango and Scott are right: he is the problem. He always ruins everything in the end.

Tango stays quiet, as if he can tell that Jimmy is struggling.

"Why do you care?" Jimmy asks, opting to avoid trying to explain himself.

Tango looks at him. He can't tell if it's concern or pity. Whatever it is, he doesn't like it. "You think I ever stopped?"

The question hangs heavy in Jimmy's heart and he looks away. If he's honest...no. He knows that Tango never stopped caring about him. He'd spent countless nights hoping he would; praying he'd find someone else. Like he tried to do.

Jimmy furrows his brow. "Right. Of course not. That's why you never reached out." He knows he's being a dick now, but it's easier if things stay the way they are. Tango deserves better than him. Even if he wants him back. Even though he craves his touch so desperately.

Tango glares down at him, the hand on his cheek shifting to grasp his jaw tightly. "You're the one who left," he snaps. "You're the one who stopped answering my calls."

Jimmy stares into Tango's eyes. The burning anger he saw earlier has returned, but there's an undercurrent of pain. His chest constricts with guilt. He doesn't want to hurt Tango, but it's for the best. If he gives in to his desire, it'll just be worse in the end.

Tango continues to stare at him. Jimmy licks his lips before opening his mouth to respond. Before he can get a word out, Tango crashes their mouths together.

It's rough and metallic, but it makes his heart soar. Tango nips at his lip harshly, pulling a groan from him. He reaches up and grips his sweater, pulling him closer. It's been so long, he feels like he'll drown if Tango pulls away.

Tango loosens his grip on his jaw, hand sliding down to rest on his neck. The kiss softens, and it sends a sharp pang through him. He can't do this.

"Tango—" he starts, but before he can continue, Tango shoves him back into the locker roughly.

"Don't. Don't you dare do that."

Jimmy frowns, furrowing his eyebrows. His eyes flick down to the blood smeared over Tango's face, in his beard. It shouldn't be as hot as it is. He briefly wonders if he looks just as messy.

"Don't act like the bigger person here," Tango snaps, the hand on his neck squeezing slightly. "You started this, we're going to finish it."

Swallowing, Jimmy nods. He knows this is a bad idea, but he finds his willpower slipping the longer they sit here. He's sure he'll regret this later, when they part ways, but the part of him that revels in the pain is winning out.

"Good," Tango mutters, leaning back in to kiss him again. It's still too soft. It reminds him of before and he can't.

Instead of pushing him away again, Jimmy takes control. He presses their lips together roughly, pain blossoming when their noses press together. He hisses into the kiss, swallowing the pained noise Tango makes in return.

This time, it's Tango who pulls away, eyes dark with a mix of lust and anger.

"Is that how you want this?" he asks.

Jimmy nods, a quiet "Please," slipping out before he can stop it. He can't do soft and sweet. He wants to hurt. It's what he deserves.

The way Tango looks at him—annoyed and judging—he expects him to say 'fuck this' and leave him here alone. It would probably be better if he did.

This time when Tango kisses him, it's all tongues and teeth. There's no gentleness, just like he wanted. Jimmy moans eagerly when Tango weaves his fingers into his hair and tugs hard, tilting his head back sharply.

Tango nips and kisses his way from Jimmy's mouth to his neck, teeth nipping harshly at his throat. He moans, cock twitching in his pants. The hand still resting on his neck squeezes again and he chokes out another moan.

Abruptly, Tango pulls away. Jimmy can't stop the whine that slips out at the lack of contact. He clamps his mouth shut when Tango starts pulling his gear off. Pieces fall to the floor and Jimmy can't stop himself from drinking in his appearance. He looks almost exactly how Jimmy remembers. Strong arms flexing as he removes his shoulder pads. A smattering a blonde hair trails down his chest, disappearing below the waist of his pants.

Tango clears his throat and Jimmy's eyes snap to his face. He raises an eyebrow and Jimmy offers a sheepish smile. Rolling his eyes, Tango goes back to removing his own gear.

Taking the silent cue, Jimmy moves to finish removing his other skate. Just as he places it to the side with the other one, a foot comes up to rest between his thighs. Looking up, Tango just smirks at him.

"Be a good boy, won't you?"

Hearing Tango say those words goes straight to his groin. His hands move faster than his brain, tugging the laces free and lifting his foot slightly to slide the skate off. He places it to the side and looks up at him expectantly. What he isn't expecting is for Tango to move his foot along his thigh once he releases his ankle. He takes a breath when it rests against his cock.

That smirk still plastered to his face, Tango applies a light pressure. It's not painful in the slightest, but it still tears the breath from his lungs. His hand wraps around Tango's ankle tightly, never breaking eye contact.

Tango raises an eyebrow and applies a little more pressure. Jimmy chokes out a moan, hips bucking into the weight.

"Tango—" he chokes out, grinding against his foot.

Tango hums and pulls his foot away. Jimmy lets out a broken whine, immediately missing the contact.

Before he can complain, Tango brings his other foot up between Jimmy's thighs. He doesn't even wait for instructions this time, moving to untie and remove his skate. Once it's off, Tango steps back and works to remove the rest of his clothing.

Jimmy watches as his pants slide down his hips, swallowing hard. He can see how hard Tango is just from teasing him. He wants nothing more than to reach forward and wrap his lips around his cock.

"Well?" Tango asks.

Jimmy's eyes snap up to his face.

"What?"

He raises an eyebrow, gesturing at Jimmy's pants. "Your turn."

"Right." Jimmy stands quickly and fumbles his way out of the rest of his clothing. Tango watches him the entire time and a small part of him feels self conscious when he's left only in his underwear.

Tango pulls him close and kisses him again. It's not as rough this time, but it's still far enough away from gentle that Jimmy can deal with it. He wraps his arms around Tango's waist, holding him flush against him.

It’s too easy to fall back into old motions. Jimmy can’t remember the last time they were close like this. 

That’s a lie and he knows it. Admitting that he spent countless hours thinking about that last time is too much. He wishes he knew then that it was the last time. He would have worked to make it last longer; would have held tighter.

Now, though, with Tango in his arms again, he wants to make this time last as long as possible. He knows, realistically, that they only have so much time before the end of the game. But if this is really his last time with Tango, he wants to make it count.

Tango’s hand is around his neck again, mouth drifting down his jaw to sink his teeth into his shoulder. It pulls a broken sound from him; something between a moan and a hiss. It’s what he asked for, he knows this. But there’s something about it that feels wrong.

This isn't how things are supposed to be. Sex with Tango was always gentle. They might have gotten a little rough from time to time, but never like this. In some ways, it makes it easier to pretend like this doesn't matter, like he isn't about to fuck his ex in the locker room. They'll have sex, Jimmy will feel better, and they'll move on. They'll never talk again.

Jimmy wants all those things. He wants to move on from this and never have to face Tango again. He doesn't deserve to see him again, doesn't deserve anything that Tango is giving him.

He whines pathetically when Tango pulls back, his grip tightening on his hips. He buries his face in Tango's neck, licking and sucking on the skin in an attempt to avoid eye contact. He can feel Tango hard against him. Grinding their hips together, Jimmy pulls a choked moan from him. He slides his fingers under the waistband of Tango's underwear and pushes them down.

Tango chuckles breathlessly, hand sliding up to thread through his hair. Jimmy melts at the feeling for a brief second before that same hand grips his hair tightly. It tears a moan from him and he glares down at Tango.

Smirking, Tango tugs on his hair again, another sound slipping out. "Didn't realize you were so desperate."

Jimmy groans, hardening his glare. He wants so badly to drop to his knees and be a good boy, but he wants this to be different, needs it to be different. Maybe if he can convince his brain that Tango isn't what he wants, things will be okay.

When Tango leans in and kisses him, biting at his lip hard enough to draw blood, he knows he's fucked. This was a terrible idea from the start, but he was never good at resisting. Especially when it came to Tango.

He's pushed down onto the bench, Tango towering over him with that stupid smirk back on his face. Tango steps away to dig through his duffel on the floor at their feet and Jimmy's hands twitch with the urge to pull him back.

"What are you doing?" Jimmy asks, annoyed at how breathless he sounds.

Tango hums. "Looking for something to make this easier."

Jimmy scoffs. "You seriously think I carry lube with me?"

Turning his head to look up at him, Tango rolls his eyes. "You trying to tell me you stopped?"

Jimmy blushes. Of course Tango would remember that he always carried a bottle. It proved useful more than a couple times. "Side pouch."

Tango chuckles and turns back to the bag, easily locating the half empty bottle. It's a different brand than they used; Tango raises an eyebrow at him in question.

He shrugs. "It's what Scott likes."

Tango's expression shifts, eyes darkening. He crowds into Jimmy's space again, free hand moving to tug at his underwear. "I'd rather you didn't talk about your stupid boyfriend right now." He pulls harder and Jimmy is forced to lift his hips before Tango tears the fabric.

"He's not," he points out. "Not anymore."

"Whatever." He rolls his eyes. "The only name I want to hear from you is mine."

Jimmy swallows and nods. "Yes, sir." It slips out before he can stop himself and he immediately regrets it.

Blessedly, Tango keeps his mouth shut. Of course, that stupid, sexy smirk is back on his face. He leans in to kiss Jimmy again. He hooks an arm under one of Jimmy's legs and lifts as he slips between his thighs. Jimmy's arms fly up to wrap around Tango at the slight panic when his body slides down. The movement forces him further into the boards of the locker, the wood digging into his back. He's sure he'll regret this later, but can't bring himself to care in the moment.

Not when Tango's hand slides down his ass to press at his hole gently. He panics for a moment, wondering if he changed his mind about the lube. He's about to push Tango away and ask when his hand vanishes, the click of the bottle cap echoing in the room. When Tango's hand returns a moment later, his fingers are slick and one slips in with ease.

Jimmy chokes out a moan, nails digging into Tango's back. The motions are so familiar, yet foreign. He enjoyed bottoming, more than some people, but so did Scott. Which meant that Jimmy was often the one topping. He can't remember the last time he had someone's fingers inside him that weren't his own.

Tango continues to press in, taking it slower than he usually would. Jimmy wonders if he can tell it's been a while.

"You're tighter than I remember," Tango mutters into his neck.

Jimmy grunts when he pulls out, returning a moment later with two fingers. "Been a while," he says, no more than a whisper. There's a slight sting at the stretch as Tango presses in both fingers.

"Lucky me," Tango says, and Jimmy can feel his smile. "Get to open you up all over again, remind you how my cock feels."

Anything Jimmy could think to say is torn from his mind as Tango presses deeper. Pleasure sparks up Jimmy's spine when he finds his prostate, a loud moan spilling from his lips. His cock kicks against his stomach and he worries that he'll cum before they even get started.

"Tango—"

"I know, sweetheart." The pet name falls from his lips easily and stabs Jimmy in the heart. It's been so long since he heard it, he'd almost forgotten how it sounds. "Just a little longer. Don't want to hurt you."

"You won't."

It comes out faster than he wanted and Tango pulls back to look at him, fingers stilling. He wants to shy away from the look in Tango's eyes, but he forces himself to keep looking. "Please."

Tango curses and nods. "Alright." He presses against Jimmy's prostate once more before slipping his fingers out, smiling at the soft moan it pulls. Jimmy instantly misses the feeling. He knows it's necessary to get what he actually wants, but he feels so empty.

Tango laughs lightly as he tugs his underwear down and slicks his cock. "Always so impatient," he says, kissing along Jimmy's jaw to his neck. "I got you, don't worry." He shifts forward, cock bumping against Jimmy's thigh. Tango adjusts himself and lines up, the slight pressure of his cock against Jimmy's hole making him whine.

Jimmy tries to press into him, but the awkward position makes it hard to get any leverage. He whines again, threading his fingers through Tango's hair and tugging him back from his neck so he can look at him. His heart skips a beat when he sees the absolute adoration in Tango's eyes. It's been so long since someone looked at him like that; it hurts.

He doesn't deserve to have Tango look at him that way, not after what he did. But he knows if he says anything, Tango will either dismiss his worries or pull away. He doesn't want either of those things to happen, not now. So he leans forward and pulls Tango down into a kiss. It's desperate and rougher than he intended, but he doesn't care. He needs this, as much as he knows it's going to ruin everything between them. If there was anything left to ruin.

Tango's free hand slides down to lift his other leg behind the knee, giving him better access. He tries to press in, but without a hand guiding his cock, it keeps slipping. Jimmy pulls back from the kiss with a whine and squeezes his arm between them. He grabs Tango's cock and holds it in place.

"Thanks," Tango grunts, breathless as the head finally slips inside.

Jimmy's head tips back with a moan at the feeling. It's been so long since he's had a real cock inside him that he almost forgot what it felt like. It's better than he remembers, and Tango barely has an inch in him.

Tango chokes out a "god" as he pushes his hips forward more, sinking in further. "You weren't kidding, huh?"

Jimmy blinks at him in confusion, unsure what he's referring to.

"When's the last time you were fucked like this?" Tango asks, brows knitted together as he slowly pulls out and thrusts back in a little further.

"Sc-" Jimmy cuts himself off immediately, remembering Tango's earlier words. Instead he settles on, "The last time you did."

Tango freezes, eyes wide. Jimmy whines and tries to move his hips, but Tango's grip on his legs keeps him in place. "You—you can't be serious?"

Jimmy shrugs as much as he's able. "He didn't want to."

Tango scoffs. "You're better off without him." He adjusts his grip and thrusts into Jimmy again, harder this time, sliding deeper. "Can't imagine someone not wanting to see the way you look when you're getting fucked."

Jimmy chokes as Tango continues to thrust, hitting a little deeper each time until their hips meet. God, he'd forgotten how deep he could get. Or it had been so long, he forgot what it was supposed to feel like.

"You make such pretty noises," Tango mumbles, leaning down to nip at Jimmy's neck again. He knows he must be an absolute sight at this point. With the blood smeared all over Tango's face, he's sure his neck must be coated. At least the blood will wash off once he showers. The bite marks will be a different story.

He'll be lucky if he's able to hide the evidence when they're done. There's a part of him, however small (though it seems to be growing by the minute), that wants people to see, wants them to know that he belongs to somebody.

Jimmy squeezes his eyes shut at that thought, trying to stop himself from crying at the ache that spreads through his chest. Because it's wrong. He doesn't belong to anybody. It's his own goddamn fault.

Tango bumps their foreheads together and Jimmy hadn't even realized he'd moved. He opens his eyes slowly and the look on Tango's face makes his chest ache more.

"I can hear you thinking," he says. "Making me feel a little inadequate here."

"Sorry," Jimmy mumbles quickly.

Tango frowns. "I'm joking, Jim. What can I do to get you outta that head of yours?"

Fuck me like you mean it—is what he wants to say, but he bites his tongue. Because he can't. He knows Tango will and it will just be worse in the end. "Just. Get on with it. Please."

Tango looks at him for a moment before nodding. He's clearly not happy with that answer, but he seems to think better of prying; at least for now. If Jimmy knows him—and he likes to think he does—as soon as there's a chance, Tango will push the subject. He'll be lucky if can get away without having that conversation.

He's shifted slightly as Tango adjusts his grip and pulls out. It only lasts a second but he misses the feeling as soon as it's gone. His nails dig into Tango's back as he thrusts back in. It tears a moan from him as he buries his face in Tango's neck, nipping and kissing at the skin. Anything to keep his mouth occupied to stop him from saying things he shouldn't.

Every thrust is bliss, pleasure sparking up Jimmy's spine each time Tango grazes his prostate. At the same time, it sends pang after pang through his chest. For a moment, Jimmy allows himself to sink into the memories. Ignoring their location and circumstances, he can imagine that everything is okay between them. That they'll leave this room and see each other again. That the kisses and looks that Tango has been giving him actually mean something.

He chokes out a sob before he can stop himself and Tango slows down. "Don't!" he begs. "Please."

"Jim…" he starts and Jimmy can feel another sob bubbling up but he shoves it down.

"Not now, please." His voice cracks, and he knows exactly the look that Tango's giving him, but he can't do this now. Maybe he'll be brave enough to face it later, but not now.

Tango sighs heavily and Jimmy expects him to pull out and refuse to continue until they talk about this. Thankfully, he doesn't.

"Fine," he whispers. "If this is what you need…"

"It is," Jimmy pants, trying to roll his hips into Tango's. When he can't, he clenches down, tearing a moan from Tango.

Tango grunts, picking up speed, thrusting hard and deep. Jimmy gasps as Tango hits his prostate directly. His cock kicks between them and he reaches down to fist it. He'd been so in his head that he hadn't realized how close he was already.

With Tango's panting in his ear, Jimmy cums at the next thrust, Tango's name falling from his lips as his chest and stomach are splattered with his cum. Tango groans when he clenches down but doesn't slow his pace.

Instead, he picks up speed again. Jimmy grunts as he continues, sparks flaring up his spine, tipping over into pain. He thinks about asking Tango to slow down; the part of him that revels in the pain, knows he deserves this.

He whines as Tango shifts to bite at his neck, hips pistoning faster than he knew they could. It tears sound after sound out of him. He squeezes his eyes shut as tears well up at the overstimulation, but he keeps his mouth shut. It's what he deserves.

It's what he deserves.

It's what he deserves.

Tango stills so suddenly that it pulls a sob from him before he can stop it. Tango pulls away from him. Jimmy whines, gripping tighter, trying to keep him close. Tango's hands gently lower his legs around his hips. He grabs his arms and pulls them from around his neck. Jimmy immediately hooks his ankles together, keeping him firmly inside.

"Jim," Tango says, voice soft. "Look at me."

Jimmy shakes his head, keeping his eyes closed tight. He can feel tears running down his cheeks. He wants to hide his face in Tango's shoulder again, but he's holding tight.

"Lemme go," he mumbles, tugging at the grip on his wrists.

"Jimmy," Tango says, more firm this time. "Look at me."

Jimmy whines and slowly blinks his eyes open, his vision blurred from the tears.

Tango gives him the smallest smile. "There you are."

Jimmy pulls again to try and free his arms, whining quietly. Tango frowns, but releases him. As soon as he's free, he reaches up and wipes at his eyes. He hates that he's been reduced to such a mess, that Tango is seeing him like this.

They're both silent for a while, Tango still buried deep inside him. Jimmy squirms slightly, relieved that he's no longer in pain but mourning the feeling.

Tango takes a deep breath and swallows. "Jim, I—" he stops for a second, visibly struggling to find the right words. "What—what is it that you deserve?"

Jimmy's entire body tenses up. He didn't—he couldn't have. There's no way Tango knew what he was thinking. He's panicking now, breath catching in his throat. He needs to get out of this. He can't do this now. "Wh—what do you mean?"

Tango's frown deepens. "Don't do that. You—you said 'it's what I deserve'. What do you mean by that?"

He shakes his head. "Nothing. Don't worry about it." It's not something he wants to put on Tango.

"Jimmy," he says, hand coming to rest on his cheek. His eyes snap to Tango's, wide with fear. "Whatever it is, you can tell me."

"That's the problem," he blurts out. "I can't."

"Why not?"

"You wouldn't understand." He might, but he doesn't want him to. He doesn't want to put this on Tango. He's already put him through enough.

"Try me," he says, offering what Jimmy thinks is supposed to be a reassuring smile.

He chokes on another sob and brings his hands up to cover his face. He can feel his restraint fading with every second. "Punishment," he mumbles quietly, barely a whisper.

Tango's quiet for so long that Jimmy wonders if he even heard him. Hands grab his wrists again and gently pull them away from his face. He looks away, not wanting to see the look on Tango's face. He can't handle whatever it might be. Whether it's disgust, rejection, affection, love. He can't handle any of it.

"Wanna tell me why you think you deserve to be punished?" Tango asks, voice hesitant. It's not demanding, it leaves room for him to refuse.

Jimmy hesitates. He wants to refuse, wants to convince Tango to keep fucking him until he's done, to use him for his own satisfaction. It seems to be all he's good for, after all. He's never been able to do anything else right, but he can do this.

Instead, he takes a deep breath. "I hurt you," he says quietly. "You were right. I am the problem. I ruin everything."

"Whoa, hey." Tango cups his face and gently tilts his head until he can look him in the eyes. Jimmy's heart clenches painfully at the look in his eyes. "You don't ruin everything."

"But you said—"

Tango cuts him off. "I know what I said. I was pissed off. You just punched me in the face for no reason." The blood on his face has been reminding Jimmy of that since it happened.

"But—"

"Listen to me," his voice is firm. "You are not the problem. You fucked up, and I was pissed at you for it, but there hasn't been a single moment since you left that I haven't hoped you'd come back."

Jimmy whines quietly, chest heavy as he looks for any sign that Tango might be lying. He doesn't think he'd lie about something like this, but he spent so long hoping that Tango would find someone better than him…he never let himself hope that Tango still wanted him.

When he finds nothing but adoration and love, he can't stop the question that slips out. "Why?"

It's the one question that's been burning him up since he left, when he ignored Tango's calls, when he refused to be caught alone in the same room. Why had he kept calling? Why hadn't he found someone else? Why did he chase Jimmy into the locker room? Why did he kiss him tonight? Why was he here, now, with him, after everything?

Tango laughs lightly and Jimmy shrinks a little. "I guess I always hoped that if you changed your mind once, you'd change it again."

"I never—" Jimmy starts but stops himself, because how can he explain that he didn't change his mind about Tango. He never wanted to leave, he just…thought it would be easier if he did. Scott was just a way to take his mind off Tango, a way to try and move on. It never worked. "I'm sorry," he says instead.

Tango leans down and presses their foreheads together. "I know, Jim. I just—I wish you'd talked to me."

"I know." He whines, averting his eyes. "I thought—I figured if I left it'd be easier. That you'd find someone better—someone you deserved."

Tango sighs and pulls back slightly, tilting Jimmy's head again so he can look him in the eye. "There's that word again. What makes you think you aren't what I deserve?"

Jimmy frowns. How could he possibly begin to explain that everything he wants, everything he is, is entirely unworthy of being what Tango deserves? Especially after the shit he put him through.

When he takes too long to respond, Tango rubs his cheek lightly. Pain blossoms from the touch, but he doesn't shy away from it. "You know what I think?"

Jimmy shakes his head carefully, not wanting to disturb the hands holding his face.

"We both deserve someone that will love us." Jimmy opens his mouth to interrupt but Tango continues. "I don't care if there's someone else out there who might be perfect in every way. I'd rather have you."

"I don't deserve you," Jimmy says.

"Maybe not." Tango shrugs. "But love isn't about what you deserve. It's about what you can give each other despite that."

Jimmy stares at him for a moment. He fully expected Tango to never want to speak to him again after what he did. But here he is, still choosing him, despite everything he's done.

He glances away before steeling himself and looking him in the eye and asking, "Can you ever forgive me?"

Tango's laugh is so loud and sudden that Jimmy jumps. "Jimmy, are you kidding me? I'm literally telling you that I still love you. Also," he smirks that stupid sexy smirk again that sends chills down Jimmy's spine, "I'm kind of still inside you." He thrusts his hips softly to reiterate the point.

Jimmy huffs a laugh of his own. It's nowhere near as loud as Tango's, and it sounds a little broken, but it's genuine. "Only you could stay hard after that…"

Tango raises an eyebrow and glances down between them. "Only me?"

Jimmy blushes and hits him on the arm. "Shut up! That's your fault."

"Oh I'm very aware," Tango snickers, leaning in to kiss him softly. Jimmy melts into it, bringing his arms up to wrap around Tango, pulling him closer. He threads his fingers through his hair, allowing himself to relish the feeling.

Tango's hands slide down his body slowly, caressing everything he can. Jimmy wonders if he was holding himself back before. When he reaches Jimmy's thighs, he squeezes, groaning into the kiss as he starts thrusting slowly.

Jimmy's chest flutters with each thrust, the ache easing little by little. He still feels guilty, and he knows he'll have to prove himself to Tango before things can possibly go back to how they were, but this is a start. It's a weird start, that's for sure, but he can live with that.

Tango pulls away from their kiss, pressing their foreheads together again as he picks up speed, moans falling from his lips as he sinks deep inside.

He lifts Jimmy's legs slightly, bending him further into the locker. It changes the angle slightly, hitting Jimmy's prostate directly on the next thrust.

Jimmy moans loudly, nails digging into Tango's shoulder as he rolls his hips up into the feeling. Despite cumming once already, he's careening toward the edge fast.

"Tango—" he chokes out. "'m close."

"Yeah," he pants, kissing along Jimmy's jaw to his neck. "Just a bit more, sweetheart."

Jimmy whines, nodding. He's not sure he can last, but he'll try for Tango. He really doesn't want this to end, but he knows they can't keep going forever. Even if they had the stamina, eventually the game will end and his teammates will come back.

Thankfully he doesn't have to wait long. Tango thrusts in deep and stills, capturing Jimmy's lips in another kiss as his cock spills inside him. Jimmy moans at the feeling, squeezing his legs to press Tango deeper. It's been so long since someone came inside him, he forgot how much he loves the feeling. He knows he probably should have asked Tango to pull out, knowing he'll need to clean himself out before he gets dressed, but he can't bring himself to complain.

Tango's hand slips between them and wraps around Jimmy's cock. He gasps at the touch and bucks his hips up into his grip. He twists his wrists in the way Jimmy likes, grinds his cock against his prostate, and Jimmy sees stars. His nails dig into Tango's back as he cums for the second time, spilling over Tango's hand. He strokes him a couple more times before Jimmy whines.

Chuckling, Tango wipes his hand on Jimmy's thigh, kissing him softly. "Feel better?"

Jimmy grunts. He does, in multiple ways. The anger he was feeling earlier is gone, the guilt that's been clawing through him has been silenced for now. He's sure it'll rear it's ugly head once he's alone, but for now, his brain is blissfully silent.

Nodding, he smiles. "Yeah. For the first time in a while."

Tango frowns for a second before returning the smile. "Glad I was able to help." He reaches back and gently unhooks Jimmy's legs from his waist, pulling out slowly. Jimmy whimpers at the feeling, instantly mourning the warmth and feeling empty. Tango rubs a hand over his thighs.

"I know," Tango whispers, "but we should probably get cleaned up."

Jimmy huffs and pouts at him. He knows he's right, knows they need to part ways before someone finds them here, but he really doesn't want to. He wants to stay here with Tango in his arms and bask in the glow of their rekindled relationship.

Tango steps back, leaving Jimmy feeling cold. It doesn't last long as he takes one of his hands and gently pulls him to stand. Jimmy wobbles slightly, his back twinging as he straightens. He groans as he leans down to rest his head on Tango's shoulder.

Tango laughs and runs his fingers through Jimmy's hair. "C'mon, big guy. Let's hit the showers."

Jimmy grunts as Tango coaxes him upright. "So mean," he whines. Tango rolls his eyes and places a hand on the small of his back, gently leading him toward the showers.

"I know, so terrible of me to want a shower." He turns the water on and moves Jimmy so that he's standing in the stream. "Stay right there," he says, reaching up to cup his cheek. "I'll just be a moment."

Jimmy nods, shivering slightly as the water takes a second to heat up. The slight chill is nice, cooling him down for a moment. As it warms up, he closes his eyes and hums quietly. He makes a face when he feels Tango's cum leak down his thighs, knowing he'll have to deal with it at some point before he gets dressed. He just can't be assed to do it right now, not when the warm water cascades down his body, soothing the aches and bruises that were making themselves known now that he had nothing else to focus on.

He's not sure how long he stands there before the doubts start worming their way into his brain. He knows Tango is coming back, he said he was, but he starts to wonder if he'll just be left here alone. He couldn't blame Tango if he just sneaks off to his own locker room, letting Jimmy deal with the aftermath of everything.

Jimmy wants to open his eyes and go looking for him, wants to know what's taking so long, but he's so comfy and warm under the water that he just resigns himself to pouting and whining quietly.

A chuckle startles him enough to force his eyes open. Tango's standing there, a goofy smile on his face as he stares at Jimmy.

Jimmy reaches both arms out toward him and Tango rolls his eyes fondly, stepping within reach and allowing himself to be pulled against Jimmy's chest. "Where'd you go?" he asks, burying his face in Tango's hair.

"Sorry," Tango whispers, wrapping an arm around Jimmy and rubbing his back lightly. "Went looking for some shampoo and got distracted by that photo in your bag."

Jimmy flushes, embarrassed whine muffled by Tango's hair. "I forgot that was there…"

Tango's hand travels up his back to tangle in his hair, gently scraping at his scalp. "I'm surprised you kept it."

"Couldn't bring myself to get rid of it," he mumbles.

"You don't have to explain."

He hears the sound of a cap click and assumes that Tango found some shampoo. His assumption is proved correct when the hand in his hair disappears for a second before returning. Tango moves slightly in his arms before his other hand comes up to tangle in his hair. Jimmy sighs softly, body relaxing at the feeling. He wishes they could stay here forever, just like this.

Jimmy knows that he doesn't have to explain, but he wants Tango to know the truth. "It's all I had left of you," he says, just loud enough to be heard over the sound of the water. "I hid it in my bag so Scott wouldn't find it."

Tango hums, letting him know he's listening.

"He, uh, didn't really like being reminded of you."

Tango scoffs, tilting Jimmy's head up so he can look at him. "Can't say I blame him, if I'm honest."

Jimmy laughs dryly. "You don't say, Mister 'the only name I want to hear from you is mine'."

Tango sticks out his tongue. "I stand by that."

Jimmy bumps their foreheads together. "You gonna make me get rid of everything that reminds you of him, too?"

"Probably not," he says, smiling softly. "Unless you want to. It's not my place to choose what you keep around."

"And if I said I wanted to?"

"Then I'll help."

Jimmy feels his chest swell with affection and leans down to capture Tango's lips in a kiss. It's soft and sweet and everything he didn't want, didn't allow himself to want, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

Jimmy's spine still tingles as he shifts his weight from one leg to the other. The game ended shortly after Tango snuck back to his own locker room. Jimmy has never been more thankful for an overtime.

He'd gotten some looks when the team had come in after the game, but nobody said anything about his ejection. He knew it was only a matter of time before he heard from someone about it. Grian was probably waiting to drop the news as soon as he knew Jimmy was in a good mood.

A small part of him hoped he'd get kicked for the rest of the season. He doesn't like the person he's become since his transfer. Some time off might help him rediscover himself.

Most of his team had already made their way out to the bus, a few straggling behind to talk with someone. He could hear Martyn and Ren chatting by the doors, but they were too far away to make out any words.

Jimmy glances toward the ice. He knows Gem will be waiting to meet him, but he has something else to do first. He's already sent off a text apologizing for his fight, but hasn't received a response yet. He tries not to worry, telling himself she's just focused on not getting lost in the crowd.

When the door to the locker room across from him opens, he stands up straighter.

Zed and Tango walk out, laughing at something together and Jimmy can't stop himself from smiling.

Zed stops and looks between him and Tango with a raised eyebrow.

"It's fine, Zed. I'll catch up," Tango says.

Jimmy knows he deserves the glare Zed sends his way, but it still hurts. He waits until he's walking toward the doors and out of earshot before turning back to Tango.

"I probably should've expected him to be mad at me," he sighs.

Tango snickers. "He'll get over it."

"Are they all mad at me?"

Tango frowns, nodding. "They saw firsthand how much you leaving messed me up."

Jimmy looks down, fingers picking at the hem of his hoodie. "I'm sorry."

Tango steps forward, closing the distance between them. "I know. I forgive you."

"You shouldn't though."

Sighing, Tango brings a hand up to rub gently at the purple bruise on Jimmy's cheek. "I do, though," he says, smiling softly. "But I won't complain if you want to make it up to me."

He winks and Jimmy rolls his eyes, lips twitching into a smile. "I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you'll let me."

Tango's eyes widen and he groans, sliding his hand to the back of Jimmy's neck and pulling him down until their foreheads touch. His hands come up easily to rest on Tango's hips, holding him close. "Keep saying things like that and we'll never get out of this stupid arena."

Jimmy laughs and has to resist the urge to rub their noses together. His hurts like a bitch now and he's sure Tango's does too, if the way it looks is anything to go by. "I mean it, Tango. Let me make it up to you."

"Got anything in mind?"

Jimmy hums, pretending to think for a moment. "Would you let me take you on a date?"

Tango snickers. "Jim, we've been on plenty of dates."

"I know. But I want to do things right this time."

Tango rolls his eyes. "Alright, fine, you big sap."

Jimmy smiles, big and wide and real, for the first time in a long time. "Good. Call me later? You still have my number, right?" He hopes he does, but he'd give it to him again in a heartbeat.

Tango kisses him softly, eyes full of love when he pulls back. "Couldn't forget it if I tried."

Jimmy knows he has a goofy smile on his face. "I promise I'll answer this time."

The laugh that echoes down the alley is music to his ears. "I'll be holding you to that."

Jimmy nods, leaning in to kiss him again. He knows he needs to let him go, knows they can't stay here all night, but god does he want to.

Reluctantly, he pulls away, a small whine slipping from Tango as he does. He smiles softly and grabs his hand, squeezing. "You should go before they leave without you."

"Maybe I'd rather stay here with you."

"Tango," Jimmy scolds, unable to keep the affection out of his voice.

Tango sighs. "Fine, but I'm going to pout about it."

Jimmy rolls his eyes. "Just go, you dork."

Tango huffs, pulling away. He readjusts the duffel on his shoulder and takes a few steps backward down the hall. "You better answer this time."

"I will. I promise."

Tango smiles at him one last time before turning and walking away. Jimmy watches until the door closes behind him.

This wasn't what he expected when he woke up this morning, but he could honestly say he was glad he punched Tango in the face. Okay, maybe not glad that he'd injured him, but he was happy that things turned out the way they did.

Jimmy had another chance to prove that he could give Tango all of him and he wasn't going to waste it. He knows Tango was right when he said love wasn't about what you deserved, that it was about what you can give each other in spite of it all.

He deserved to be happy. He deserved to have good things in his life.

What he deserves is to have someone who loves him because of his flaws, not in spite of them, and he knows that someone is Tango.