Shutout

Chapter 16 - Kane

The doorbell barely has time to ring before I'm at the door. I told him multiple times that as long as I know he's coming over, I'll leave the door open, and he can come right in. But he always fucking rings the doorbell and scares the shit out of me. 

It's not as late as he sometimes comes when they get back from traveling, but it's still dark outside. It is cold as we transition very slowly into November's winter. Logan is always worried about my tendency to run cold, but I just put my cold hands on him to shut him up. 

I haven't seen Logan for the past three days, as he's been on the road playing games around the country. And actually playing as apparently the main goaltender, Porter (?), has been sick with the flu. Sucks for him, for sure, but it's so exciting to see Logan actually get to play. Although he doesn't perform another shutout since the first game on the first day away, he still plays well enough to help the team bring home a win every day, which is amazing. It's pretty thrilling when they show clips and shots of him doing his job and celebrating with his team members. Even if I can't see his face, and he also looks like a weird mascot, I can appreciate his skill. I stay awake long enough for two out of three games to congratulate him. I fell asleep during one of the games, but Logan just laughed on the phone, easing some of my guilt. 

It's not too late when they arrive in Indianapolis, based on Logan's message. It's also thanks to his message that I've sat eagerly waiting for him to show up and still get jump-scared by the doorbell. Even Harold is seemingly waiting for Logan as he sits pretentiously in the hallway near the front door. 

I throw the door open as well coordinated as I can and then throw myself on Logan as well coordinated as I can. Thankfully, Logan is a strong, muscular man (thankfully), so he easily catches me without stumbling back. Instead, he laughs in my ear. But squeezes me back.

"Congrats on being so good!" I pull back enough to make eye contact with him before slamming my mouth on his. Again, Logan handles it well and eagerly follows. 

Although I want to submit myself to the heartwarming (and crotch-heating) embrace, my mind suddenly shows me clips of Harold sitting behind us. 

"Oh shit, Harold!" When I rip myself from Logan, with regret, I whip around to see Harold staring knowingly at me. He knows that I know he'll try to escape if we keep the door open. And although that was how I started to get close to Logan, I have no need to repeat that traumatic experience, "Here, come inside so Harold can't escape through the open front door."

Logan allows me to tug him inside again, where it is admittedly much warmer. Once the door is shut next to us, I shift my attention to Logan again. He stands there with a smile, a smile tugging at his lips, and he unabashedly stares at me. 

"What?" I slap his arm to shake him from whatever has frozen his mind. 

Logan just shakes his head, that smile still displayed on his pink lips, "I've never been welcomed back from a roadie like that before."

"Yeah, well," I shrug, ignoring the unnecessary need to blush, "You've never done a shutout before or whatever. And you were in the closet, so this is all on you."

Logan chuckles and takes my jaw in one of his calloused hands, "Fair." And then sweeps me off my feet like some storybook character. Like, I never need air again, and the food isn't heating in the oven, and Harold isn't judging us, and he doesn't taste like Extra mint gum. 

By the time we pull apart and our chests are rising faster than earlier, I'm feeling like a teenager again, the way my body and heart react. Embarrassingly. So I hide my face and quickly steer us away from the front door and escape into the kitchen, desperately begging my body to calm down.