Boston Breakers
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Sean Owen
“If you love me, you wont say a word to anyone about this.”
(6 Chapters)
Chapter 1
The locker room smelled like sweat, blood and victory. Electrolyte rich water is spraying from every corner, teammates screaming and shouting until their voices tore. Jerseys were half-off, pads discarded like shed armor and he was standing in the middle of it all. Sweat dripping down his temples, hair matted, nose still quite painful from that one hit but still he was grinning like a god who had conquered Olympus.The Stanley Cup was gleaming behind them all, Coach was still looking at it amazed with tears in his eyes he would no doubt say is sweat if asked about it. Suddenly he gets nearly side tackled, Drake holding him in what nears a choke hold as he starts jumping up and down shouting a ridiculous victory chant.When the team finally filters out of the locker room the reporters are already waiting, cameras flashing as reporters are screaming their names and questions. Keith is getting interrogated about the game-saving goal blocks while Kane and Asher start talking about the plays they did that allowed Drake to score. Trevor is standing on the other side answering questions about the team’s defense play when a microphone appears in front of Sean’s face.“That was a very hard hit you got from the Red Wings, are you ok?” – It was a hard hit, he can still hear the ringing in his head and the throbbing of his nose, but it was nothing compared to the feeling the victory gave him. “Honestly it wasn’t that bad! It hurt for a minute or so but tell you what, Jason. That trophy coming home makes it all worth it! The team played phenomenal and I’m incredibly proud of our game today.”A few more standard questions that all get answered with giant smiles and practiced answers. He knew that all of their minds were on something else though, all of them were itching to get away from the smell of stale bear and fried food.Hours later after showering, eating and more showering, the team is in the hotel’s high-rise ballroom. Guests and family are starting to filter in and he immediately zones in on his parents arriving. “Sean! My baby are you ok? That looked like a mean hit, they should kick that little shit out of the league honestly! Who plays the game like that?” His mother immediately starts as she sees him, his father grinning widely behind her.“It’s ok, mom. I’m fine I promise, might have a crooked nose for the rest of my life but it’s worth it.” He answers with a big smile as he embraces her, his father stepping closer “I’m proud of you, boy. You did really well.” as he places his hand on Sean’s shoulder. His eyes glisten as he looks at both of his parents and chuckles nervously “Yeah well.. keep reminding yourself of that when we’re a few hours in to the party ok?”After that the evening is a blur of sequins, champagne and hands that kept touching him as if they could rub off some of the glory onto them. As he is walking over to the bar for another drink he spots you. And while he’s not proud of it his eyes immediately dart to your ass in those pants before zoning back in on your face. You weren’t watching him, nor anybody else of the team, not even the trophy that they, probably shouldn’t have, brought to the party with them.He was intrigued and at the same time also peeved: Why were you here if you didn’t care about it? - He walks up and leans on the bar next to you as he signals at the bartender for another beer. He looks over and for just a second his voice catches in his through. Fuck, they’re beautiful. “First time at a Cup party?” he manages to ask without his voice cracking.You turned, your eyes sharp as if completely unfazed by over six feet of muscle standing next to you. “First time anyone has asked me something so basic.” The laugh that escapes him is sudden and abrupt while his pulse rockets to the same height as when the buzzer rang earlier that night.Somehow he managed to get his charm back on and by sunrise you were both in the hotel hallway barefoot, laughing at something stupid he said. Numbers locked into phones instead of limbs tangled in sheets but he didn’t mind that. He told himself he’d play it cool, but it took about five minutes after you left for that first message to already hit your phone.
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
The city stretched out below him like a glittering ocean, lights winking against the dark. The rooftop hummed with late-summer heat, wind tugging at his shirt, carrying the distant pulse of traffic far beneath. Sean stood with his hands shoved in his pockets, thumb worrying at the edge of the velvet box like it was a live grenade.He told himself he wasn’t nervous. Hell, he’d faced down overtime in Game 7, skated through the kind of pressure that broke grown men.. but this? This had his chest tight, like someone had laced his ribs with wire.You stood by the railing, hair lifting in the breeze, the glow of the city painting your skin gold. When you turned and smiled at him, something in his throat locked up hard.Jesus Christ, Owen. Pull it together.He moved toward you, steps slow, the box burning a hole in his pocket. “So,” he said, voice pitched casual even though his heart was jackhammering, “two years, huh?”Your lips curved. “Two years.”“You regret it yet?” he teased, leaning against the railing like he wasn’t seconds away from combusting. You laughed, the sound threading into the night air, and for a moment he just stared, every inch of his bravado stripped raw. He could feel the words clawing at his throat: Don’t let her go. Don’t ever let her go.“Hey,” you said softly, tilting your head. “You okay? You look -”
“Marry me.”It came out rough, nothing like the smooth line he’d practiced in the mirror a hundred times. Your eyes widened, and fuck, for a second he thought he’d blown it until your lips parted on a breath that sounded like a prayer.“What?”He dragged a hand through his hair, nerves crackling under his skin. “Marry me. Tonight, tomorrow: I don’t care. Just.. say yes.” He fumbled the box out of his pocket, flipped it open to the diamond glinting under the city lights. His hands were shaking so hard the ring rattled. “Say yes, and I swear I’ll spend the rest of my life -” His voice cracked, and he swallowed hard. “Just.. please.”The wind curled around you both, warm and electric, and then you were laughing through tears, nodding so fast he thought your head might fly off.“Yes,” you choked out, voice breaking. “God, yes.”He slid the ring onto your finger with clumsy fingers, kissed you like he was trying to carve the moment into his bones. Your hands framed his jaw, his cheeks wet, though he’d deny it forever if anyone asked.Later, when you pulled back to breathe, your eyes caught the skyline glow and you whispered, “You’re shaking.”Sean laughed, shaky and stunned and happier than he’d ever been. “Yeah, well.. keep reminding yourself of this when I leave my gear in the hallway for the hundredth time.” You laughed into his chest, and he swore the sound could stop wars.The wedding happened six months later in a private hall away from cameras and flashing lights. No sponsors, no press. Just family, a handful of friends, teammates, and Drake raising a glass with that shit-eating grin that made Sean want to deck him.“Here’s to Owen,” Drake said loudly, clinking his glass, “who somehow convinced an amazing person to marry him despite his chirping, his cheap beer habits, and the fact that he leaves tape shavings everywhere like a feral animal.”
Laughter rolled through the room as Sean flipped him off across the table and pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple as he admits loudly: “I’m still trying to figure out how I got this lucky.”And for a while as he was tangled in sheets and dancing in your kitchen and skating under roaring lights: he believed nothing could touch this life. Nothing.
Chapter 4
It started quiet. A night so ordinary it barely registered: the hum of the dishwasher, the low murmur of the TV from the living room where you’d fallen asleep on the couch, bundled in a throw blanket. Sean had just dropped his gym bag by the door, ready to lay down next to you, when the smell hit him: faint at first, sharp around the edges.Burning.His stomach dropped before his brain caught up. He spun toward the kitchen just as the smoke curled, black and greedy, licking up from the outlet near the stove.“Babe!” His voice ripped through the stillness, raw and loud enough to make you bolt upright, disoriented. The fire jumped like it had been waiting, crawling up the wall in a rush of orange and shadow. The crackle grew into a roar, heat blistering against his skin as the flames reached for the ceiling. Alarms shrieked overhead.“Get up! Come on! MOVE!” He was across the room in two strides, yanking you into his arms so hard it knocked the breath from your lungs. Bare feet slapped against hardwood as he tore down the hallway, vision blurring in the haze. Smoke clawed at his throat, eyes streaming. The front door felt a mile away.You coughed against his chest, voice a broken rasp. “Sean..”“Don’t talk. Just hold on.” His grip on you was iron, muscles screaming as he barreled through the heat. The door handle scorched his palm when he wrenched it open, night air slamming into them like ice water.Outside. Cold gravel underfoot. You both collapsed onto the lawn as the fire roared behind you, a monstrous orange bloom devouring everything you owned.You were shaking so hard your teeth chattered, soot streaking your cheeks, eyes wide with shock. Sean hauled you into his lap, crushing you to his chest like he could fuse you there, lungs heaving as sirens wailed in the distance.“I’ve got you,” he rasped, voice wrecked, pressing his mouth to your temple over and over. “I’ve got you. You’re okay. You’re safe.”But over your shoulder, the house burned. Flames punched through the roof, sparks spitting at the sky. The heat pulsed against his skin even from thirty feet away, the smell of charred wood and melted plastic searing his nose. Firefighters swarmed the driveway minutes later, their shouts and the hiss of water jets drowning out the hammer of his heartbeat.By dawn, it was just bones. Charred beams clawing at the gray sky, black puddles pooling where the kitchen used to be. Jerseys, trophies, wedding photos.. gone. Every piece of the life he thought was unshakable, turned to ash in a single night.You stood in Drake’s hoodie, swallowing sobs against his chest while the fire chief murmured something about faulty wiring and insurance claims. Sean nodded, said the right words, kept his voice steady like a captain after a bad loss.But when you weren’t looking, when you were tucked into the back of Drake’s truck with a blanket wrapped around you, Sean stood in the driveway, staring at the ruin with his fists clenched so tight his nails cut his palms. Something cracked in him then. Quiet and invisible, a splinter that whispered: You can’t EVER lose control again.That night, in Drake’s spare room, you curled against him on a mattress that wasn’t theirs, wearing his smoke-stained T-shirt. He held you close, kissed your hair, whispered promises like spells:We’ll rebuild.
We’ll make more memories.
It’s just stuff, babe. Just stuff.But long after you fell asleep, Sean lay awake, eyes on the ceiling, tasting ash on his tongue and wondering if maybe everything good burned eventually.
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
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Kane Vesper
“Eye catcher”
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