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The after party was long and loud. Tavir made small talk, laughed with his team mates, proudly admired the trophy that was finally theirs.. but his mind, and his gaze, kept wandering back to Reyn. He wanted to talk, wanted to ask about the kiss, to ask about a million things, yet he didn't dare. So he watched Reyn flit from one group to another -- always laughing, always busy -- and made up excuses, and then it was too late. The hours had flown by, and Reyn was leaving. Tavir followed him to the door, realizing his lost opportunities, and as the team crowded around Reyn, saying their farewells, he hung back, despondent. Then Reyn was in front of him, slipping something into his hand.

"Wha..?" He looked down. It was a card with Reyn's name and a phone number.

"Call me sometime, we'll do hockey." A smirk crossed Reyn's all too pretty face. "I like your style." As always seemed to be the case, Tavir was left blinking as Reyn made his graceful exit.

Tavir was pacing his room nervously when Shurik peeked in; he watched as Tavir picked up the phone, then put it down and started pacing again.

"Tavir? What's up?" he asked, pushing the door further open. Tavir spun in surprise, then sank onto the bed, grateful for any distraction.

"Shurik! Come in. Entertain me," he said with a wry grin. Shurik stepped into the room, letting the door fall mostly closed again behind him, and sat on the floor.

"Bored?" He could understand that feeling well enough. With the hockey season over, they were on vacation for awhile, and he missed the action.

"Sort of." Tavir shrugged, tossing something at him. It landed in his lap, and he picked it up. A card with Reyn's name and number.

"Reyn?" Shurik's first reaction was those jealous twinges again, but it was his second reaction he let show; he laughed.

"Yes, Reyn." Tavir glared at his laughter, but he just shrugged.

"He gave you this?"

Tavir nodded.

"Then why don't you call him?" Shurik fingered the card. He'd never seen Tavir so wound up over somebody before, and it bothered him, but if he could help, he would.

"I don't know." Tavir toyed idly with a lock of his hair. "He said 'call me sometime and we'll do hockey.' Do hockey? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, do you feel like playing hockey?"

"I always feel like playing hockey."

"Then take him at his word. Call him and 'do hockey' with him. And if something else happens.." Shurik ignored those twinges. Indigestion, that was it. "... then something else happens. But you won't get anywhere if you don't stop pacing and call him." Shurik handed the card back to Tavir, who stared down at him, unblinking. But finally a smile crossed his features.

"What would I do without you, Shurik?" he asked playfully as he reached for the phone. Shurik sighed. <If only you'd mean those words the way I want you to mean them, Tavir.>

Tavir tossed his bag onto the nearest bench and sat down to tug off his shoes and put on his rollerblades. So Reyn wanted a game of one-on-one hockey, did he? Well, he'd show him. Just because he could never concentrate when Reyn was nearby...

"You're early." Reyn's voice spoke softly, very close, and he jumped. Reyn was right next to him and as he turned to look he couldn't help but stare. That gorgeous hair was bound up in a long, thick braid, and sleek sunglasses hide his green eyes. Instead of the loose uniform the team wore, tight lycra shorts hugged his long legs, and a tank top graced his torso, baring his broad shoulders and lean, muscled arms. Tavir took a deep breath. <I have to concentrate on the game when he looks like that?>

"Something wrong?" Reyn inquired as he sat down and began putting on his own rollerblades.

"No, not at all." Tavir turned his attention back to his skates, and finished lacing them. "Did you bring a puck?" He asked as he pulled out his hockeystick and stood up, testing his skates.

"Yes, I have plenty." Reyn pulled a puck from his bag and tossed it towards Tavir, who caught it easily against his stick. "Shall we play?" He'd finished lacing as well, and his stick was quickly in his hands.

"Alright." Tavir skated to the centre of the court, and pointed. "That goal's mine." Reyn joined him, facing him off, his mouth set slightly amused. Tavir set his mind on the puck in front of him. <The game, Tavir. Don't get distracted. He's not that good looking...> But his mind whispered 'liar!' and with a grunt he set the game in motion.

The game was fast and frantic; evenly matched, they chased each other and the puck up and down the court, but neither could get the edge, and the score remained 0-0. Sweat poured off both of them, soaking their clothes, but they played on, silent and swift. And then, as Tavir chased Reyn and the puck towards Reyn's goal, the beautiful black hair that had been so carefully braided pulled free, unravelling in loose curls. It flowed across Reyn's shoulders and tumbled down his back. <God, he looks so beautiful with his hair out,> Tavir marvelled, and then there was a loud thud as the puck smacked into the goal. <Damnit, I let myself get distracted!> Tavir cursed to himself even as Reyn swung around to face him.

"I'm sorry to be so distracting," he said, his expression highly amused. Tavir sighed, shaking his head.

"It's okay." He skated for the benches. "You win!" he called back over his shoulder. "And you play a damn fine game of hockey." <Yes, hockey. That's what I should be thinking about.>

He leaned over to untie his laces, willing himself not to look up, even when Reyn sat next to him. <So close.. close enough to touch..>

"So, you're only here for hockey?" Reyn still sounded so amused, and Tavir snapped his gaze up to glare at him. How come Reyn was always so cool, so in control, while he, Tavir, was always bumbling and red faced?

"Or did you have something else in mind?" Reyn tugged off his sunglasses, his dark green eyes nearly glowing in the dim light. Tavir forgot his glare as he stared at those eyes, that beautiful face, all framed by that wild, careless hair. He almost groaned.

"Reyn.." He licked his lips and looked back down at his skates. Worry clenched him; Reyn was only here for the hockey, surely, and yet all that had been on his mind all day was Reyn himself.

"Tavir." Reyn's voice was soft, and Tavir felt gentle fingers lifting his chin, bringing him face to face with Reyn only inches away. "What is it you really want?" Reyn's question forced an answer from him, even as Reyn's eyes dragged him in.

"You.." he whispered, and saw Reyn's lips curving into a smile. Then those lips pressed against his, and he gasped in surprise. Reyn's mouth was firm, with a lingering taste of mint, and Reyn's tongue took advantage of his open-mouthed surprise, slipping into his mouth. Longing flowed through him, and he answered the kiss, arms reaching up to wrap around Reyn and pull him closer. He felt Reyn's arms embracing him, felt the warmth of Reyn's body pressed against his.. but he finally broke the kiss, breathing hard, and stared up into Reyn's eyes again. He felt so safe and warm in this embrace, so loved.

"So it's me you're after, is it?" Reyn's voice was gentle, quieter, but still tinged with amusement. Tavir nodded, feeling unsure again, despite the strong arms that held him close.

"What about you?" He whispered the words, gaze flicking back and forth between Reyn's eyes.

"I like your style, Tavir. I've always liked it." Reyn brushed a lock of hair back from Tavir's face, and then smiled. "What do you think I want?" And he pressed his lips against Tavir's lips in a long, passionate kiss that left no room for doubt in Tavir's mind.