Chapter 2

Mischa leaned closer, eyes focused on the puck about to drop as he whispered, "Some girl? No. I've got real hockey player. The best hockey player." He squeezed in a wink and had a half second to admire the confusion on Cole's face before he was flying across the rink with the puck.

A few minutes later, Cole checked him against the boards. "You're so full of bull, Dragunov."

"Full of? No. You see, Cole, I'm really more of the-" Mischa managed before Cole managed a pass to his teammate and suddenly regaining control of the game became more important than discussing favorite positions with Dallas Cole.

Again, a face off in the final period. Cole beat Mischa to the punch, talking even before Mischa had finished settling into place.

"It's not cool to joke about fucking another hockey player." His stern glare reminded Mischa of a teacher he'd had in grade school. Too bad such looks had never worked on him.

"No joke." Mischa felt a slight twist as the referee skated closer. He hadn't wanted to say this with a potential witness, but as if the ref was going to believe a word that came out of his mouth on the ice. They knew him too well after his season with the ThunderHawks.

"Oh, so you're really fucking the best player in the league?" Cole's sarcastic reply was quieter but still full of mocking.

Mischa felt a manic grin take over his face. Well, this was one way of telling Cole.

"Yes. Dexter Kingsley, have you heard of him?"

Needless to say, he won that face off too.

It wasn't until the two teams lined up to shake hands at the end of the game (that the ThunderHawks had won, thank you very much) that Mischa had the chance to exchange more than two sentences with Dallas Cole.

"You're an asshole, Dragunov." Cole started, but he shook Mischa's hand steadily. "I'll never understand how Holly is friends with you."

Mischa used their joined hands to slide slightly closer, keeping his voice low, "I told you. Kingsley and I, we are in love. He is my hockey player." He wiggled his eyebrows at the joke, but couldn't keep himself from watching Cole.

The eye roll almost made him protest, but it was what Cole said that really confused him.

"Sure, Roz. You and Kingsley are in love, want to get married, spend the rest of your lives playing hockey together."

When Mischa didn't immediately reply to that very accurate statement, Cole continued: "If you two are in love, I'm straight. That's how likely that is." He had laughed and skated away, though Mischa really hadn't understood what was supposed to be funny about that.

Standing alone on the ice, the crowd slowly filing out of the rink, Mischa was faced with a startling realization: telling people may be harder than he thought.

(Wyatt Vance)

Mischa figured maybe he should try someone a bit easier. Someone who knows him a bit better than Dallas Cole. Someone who knows him and Dexter not just as rivals.

Which didn't really leave a lot of people, to be honest. Or, really, it left a very specific group of people. The Silverpine ThunderHawks.

Mischa loved his team. There was hardly a day he regretted the move to Silverpine, and while a large part of that had to do with a certain Kingsley family, an only slightly smaller part was his new teammates.

The question was how to tell them. After the whole endeavour with Dallas Cole, Mischa made himself think this through this time. Maybe he could start by officially coming out to more of the team than just Porter Porter? Ease them into it before he introduced the Dexter Kingsley of it all.

The upcoming pride night seemed to be the perfect opportunity.

Silverpine loved their pride night, the fans going even crazier after Porter coming out last year. Mischa figured Porter had deserved this past year of love. Now the man could share it.

Mischa spent weeks picking out the perfect suit before the game. He had truly underestimated how difficult it was to find a purple suit jacket that wasn't obnoxious or blue pants that matched the pink of his silk button up. When he had done the final reveal the weekend before the game, dressing up just for Dexter, he'd been quite proud of his creation. He'd been even more proud it had caused such a reaction out of Dexter. He had to get the suit dry cleaned, again, before the game.

It was only when they were laying, sweaty and tangled together, that Dexter had asked, "When did you decide to start wearing so much color?"

Mischa had propped himself up on one elbow and shot his fiance a look. "Color? Dexter, I am flag."

At Dexter's adorable scrunched brow, Mischa had pulled out his phone and pulled up a picture of the bisexual flag. Dexter's reaction after that realization had also been very fun.

Now, strutting into the ThunderHawks arena, Mischa grinned as he blinked through the flashes of cameras. He'd have to send Dexter the best ones later. Especially the ones from behind. His ass looked amazing in these pants.

"God damn, Rozy." Fletcher whistled from across the locker room. "Leave some cool for the rest of us."

"Looking good, Roz." Souther whoop followed.

Mischa blew them a kiss before he stopped in front of his locker. He pretended to not feel the weight of Porter's eyes on him as he placed his bag down.

"You can't let me have this one fucking thing, can you Roz?" Porter's eyes were wide as he leaned in to lightly shove Mischa with his shoulder.

"Your thing?" Mischa turned back around to face the locker room, catching a few of his teammates watching him and Porter inquisitely. "I am not thief." He raised his voice, sweeping a hand over to gesture at Porter. "You see this? This bullying? Porter is sad I am stealing his thunderstorm."

"It's just thunder-" Porter started but Mischa cut him off.

"I steal nothing. Barratt can have his gay thing. Yes, woohoo, we celebrate him." He paused to let the cheers from their teammates rain down on them. "But you also celebrate me and my bisexual thing." There was a short moment of stifled silence and Mischa watched the words sink in.

Then cheering, louder than before. Mischa was immediately greeted with the blur of Fletcher jumping into his arms, hollering "Mischa Dragunov, the man for all the people!" He was pulled into hug after hug, which he had sure each time to look over and catch Porter's eye. Sometimes he stuck out his tongue.

After minutes of loud noise, the volume in the room finally lowered for Mischa to process questions again.

"God, this is so cool. Beautiful idea with the suit." Wyatt Vance was rambling next to him as they finally got around to changing for the game. "This really opens you up for all possibilities, huh? Have anyone special in mind?"

Mischa, fresh off the high from the love of his teammates, couldn't stop himself. "My boyfriend, Dexter Kingsley."

Like Cole, Vance laughed. "That a boy, Rozy. Dream big."

Mischa ran over the words twice in his mind before he made himself ask, "Dream?"

"Sure. I get it. Kingsley's a babe. Perfect crush material." This earned a few more cheers in agreement from their teammates.

"Crush? I don't have crush. Russians do not do this." Mischa could feel the same struggle unfolding before him.

Wyatt reached over and laid a hand on Mischa's shoulder. "Don't worry about it, Rozy. We've all been there."

"No." Mischa said as multiple of his beloved teammates nodded in agreement. "Dexter is mine."