Frostbite

It's easy to forget about the concept of time when you're doing what you love. As Micajah's arms gripped my shoulders, pulling me down to him, and lips pressed to mine I forgot about the minutes until the game started or the time I'd have to pay later for being late. All the moments I couldn't keep track of belonged to him.

"Butterfly!" Nathan's voice ripped my from my daze as he wobbled out of the locker room. "Stop sucking face and get your ass in here! Coach is flipping shit!"

"Sorry Nathan." Micajah called. "My fault."

He snorted and headed back through the door, a familiar shout of anger shooting out after him. With another quick kiss to Micajah's forehead, I ran to the locker room and dressed through the berating.

Skating out on the ice, I went to work trying to find where Michaja was seated. Eventually I found him placed in the front next to Riley Lee, who were using their hands to try and explain the game to him. He nodded, but I doubted he actually understood what they were saying. I suspected Lee knew this too when she put her hands down and pointed me out.

I'm not sure whether it was the smile, wave, or yell of encouragement that made me decide to kick fucking ass, but I was going to kick some hardcore ass.

I waved back at him and he only seemed to light up, making me more determined to grind whoever the fuck we were playing into the ice. After being made aware that I was the only one out of position, I hurried to the left and prepared to win.

A few moments later, I was being cased down the wall with the puck sliding along in front of me. The second I hit it sidelong, hard, to Alberto my pursuer slammed me hard against the wall, sending us both hurtling down the ice.

"Benjamin!" A slightly obscured voice somehow made it's way to me as I scrambled to my feet. I looked over to see Micajah and only had the time to smile and wave before I was hit by two more masses of padding.

Although I was in fact kicking ass, I was hit more this game than any game I've ever played. Every time I got the puck I'd dart, swerve, and spin until I passed it on, but every time I passed it I would catch a glimpse of Micajah and promptly be rammed into

"Butterfly!" Nathan yelled to me as I rose from the ice once more, ready for intermission. "Stop getting distracted by your boyfriend and keep your wits about you!"

"Okay, first off, no one says 'keep your wits about you'. And second we made a goal, so bite me bitch." With that, I skated towards the locker room to remove my skates. Instead of staying in there the whole time like I normally did, I took the opportunity to go find Micajah and see if he was enjoying the sport he so deeply despised.

"Benjamin!" His voice called only two steps from the locker room. He hit me in a hug, eagerly welcomed after the hits on the ice, and I caught my back against the wall. "You just kept colliding with people! Why didn't you move or dodge or something?"

I laughed at this. "That would be extremely difficult, especially considering I was the one initiating most of the colliding."

"But doesn't that hurt?"

"Maybe a kiss wound make it feel better?"

Rolling his eyes, he answered "I hardly think a kiss would make your whole body feel better." But reached up to peck my lips anyway.

"Butterfly." Alberto poked his head out of the locker room, catching me as I was about to steal Micajah's lips again. "We about to start up, get your skates on."

"Right." One last touch to Micajah's lips and I was off to kick some ass. Getting in position, I was compelled to look up at the boy I was facing as he sneered at me.

"Fagot."

The moment I took to gather myself was enough time to get the puck flying. This time, my mind wasn't on winning, but slamming this fucker as hard as I possibly could against the wall, ice, and whatever other hard surface I could find.

Who the fuck does he think he is? We are playing hockey, not who can be the biggest fucking bitch. This bastard just wrote, carved, and engraved his fucking death in diamond coated stone. I don't give a shit if he was just mad because we were crushing them, I'm going to shove my blade to far down his fucking throat he'll taste my dick.

Once I got the puck out of my way, I made a B-line for the cunt and slammed him straight against the wall. As he back stumbled to his feet, I grabbed his jersey and used it to hold him in place as I punched him in the mouth. He tried to shove me away and failed, deciding to just knock me off my feet instead.

Lucky for him, the referee got to use before I could do anything more. I trudged to the penalty box, begrudgingly noticing the puck had slipped into our goal. On the way, I heard a familiar voice cheering along with the rest of them.

"Micajah, what are you doing?" I asked as I skated to the side.

"I'm cheering." He answered, smiling.

"Why?"

"You got a point, right?"

"No Micajah. The other team got a point. We did not."

"Oh..... but you hit the guy right there." He stated innocently.

"I know. That was a penalty, I have ten minutes off the ice."

"Oh.... well then boo!"

Shaking my head, I climbed off the ice and into the penalty box, already beginning to forget why I was there in the first place.



"Hey boys." The waitress smiled at us as we flooded into the booth. "And miss. Congratulations on the win."

We cheered, causing it to spread throughout the building until it was just one massive shout. After ordering drinks and every unhealthy item they had on the menu, I turned to Micajah.

"Congratulations kiss?" I asked.

He raised an eyebrow at me. "What were those things I was giving you when you got out off the ice? And out of the locker room. And before we got in the car. And right over there at the door."

"Those were just way to go kisses. Congratulation kisses go something like this." I captured his lips, ignoring the complaints coming from the rest of the people at the table.

When the food came Micajah pulled away, having turned a pleasant shade of red. Needless to say, the strawberries and fries didn't taste nearly as good as him, but they'd have to do.

"I'm surprised you're not feeding each other." Lee commented.

"Wouldn't that, um..... pose a challenge." Gin questioned. "Considering they're sitting next to each other."

"Not at all." Micajah smiled. He had warmed up to Gin instantly, telling me that he was the cutest boy he's seen at Syren Hi yet, not including me. Though, this did make me feel the need to block him from Gin at all cost. Micajah was mine now, this ditsy ginger wasn't going to mess that up.

"Watch." Lifting a fry, Micajah fed it to me and smiled. "See? Easy as a figure eight."

"I can't skate."

"Oh. Easy as driving down a straight road?"

"I can't drive."

"Easy as making eggs?"

"I can't cook."

"Easy as-"

"-your mom." I cut in.

We looked at Gin as he rolled this around in his head, finally nodding. "Yeah. That is pretty easy."

Micajah facepalmed as the rest of the table laughed, definitely not expecting this from the redhead.

"Open up." I ordered Micajah as I lifted a strawberry.

He did and I connected our mouths, ignoring the second of shock and resistances before he complied.

"What was that kiss for?" He asked when I finally backed up.

I smiled and intertwined our fingers, too happy to care how lame it sounded. "Being mine."