Solangelo One Shots

Hockey AU (college)

Nico's POV

My ice skates tore across the slashed up ice, sending tiny flakes of the rink up into the air in my wake. I reached my stick out, just barely reaching the smooth black puck and pulling it closer to me. I was closer to the goal now, and I had a perfect side shot. I geared up to shoot, but before the puck could go shooting into the green netting of the goal I was slammed into the wall, and the puck was stolen from me. 

My assailant was scrawny, with greasy locks of white blonde hair sticking out of his helmet and plastered to his forehead and hollow, sunken cheeks. He reminded me a little bit of a rat, with bones pointing out of his skin. Like a five year old, he stuck his tongue out at me when he passed. I could feel my ears heat up, and I'm sure my cheeks were flushed with anger. I wasn't the best player on my team, but if you were going to steal from me, you had to at be mature about it. 

I was skating lazily now, waiting for the puck to come back around to me. I searched for the boy who had been so immature, but I couldn't see him amid the mass of bodies squabbling over the puck at the other side of the rink. The only person who caught my eye was a boy who, like me, was watching the action happen on the other side of the rink, waiting for his time to shine. He was tall, a few inches taller than me, with strung hands holding onto his stick loosely. His wavy blonde hair stuck out of his helmet, the color reminding me of sun beams, as did his smile. It was a small half smile that had crept onto his face as he watched the action but even so, it shone brightly on his tan, freckled face. As he skated to meet the puck, I caught a glimpse of the number on the back of his jersey. Fourteen. I would have to remember that.

Will's POV

Number four was hot. I knew that I should be paying more attention to the game, but I couldn't help thinking it. I even might have caught him staring at me once or twice. His face was as pale as the moon, and his skinny body seemed to be swallowed up by the enormous uniform he was wearing. His eyes were melted chocolate and I could just see thick black hair underneath his helmet. Then I got the puck and had to stop looking at him. 

I skated toward their goal, number four hot on my trail. He was fast, there was no doubt about that. I was ten yards away from the goal when he skated in front of me, battling for the puck. I tried to concentrate on the game, and on all the yelling from my teammates, but I kept getting lost in his eyes. Maybe I was imagining it, but I think that he was fighting to keep a blush from creeping onto his face. 

When I lost the puck to number four, I heard a chorus of groans, both from my teammates and from my disappointed fans. Number four sent the puck flying across the rink to one of his teammates but before he could get it in, the halftime buzzer rang. I loosened my grip on my stick as I followed my teammates off of the rink. 

"Come on, Will, what was that back there?" Our team captain, Octavian, yelled once we were out of earshot of the spectators. No one liked Octavian much. He was always to mean, but that was why our coach liked him so much. He said we needed to be aggressive like Octavian, although sometimes he was too aggressive. 

"I don't know," I shrugged, looking away. I wasn't about to tell him that I missed out on an easy shot because I was crushing on a player from the other team. Octavian groaned, rolling his eyes. He crossed his arms. 

"Well, don't do it again. We're tied right now, but you could have put us in the lead if you had made that shot. 

"Yes, Octavian," I muttered. I got a few pitying glances from my teammates, but no one said a word. 

"Does anyone else have any complaints?" Octavian called out, looking at the team. He stared at us reproachfully, as if daring him to say a thing. There was some shuffling of feet but otherwise no one said a word. "Perfect!" Octavian said. "Get ready for the second half and this time," he looked right at me. "Don't mess up.