Page 97 of Bro Code

They all looked at each other.

Nic shrugged. “Straight guys post selfies with their girlfriends. We’re wearing suits. No one’s even drinking. It’s pretty wholesome.” He pulled out his phone. “Send it to me, I’ll do it.”

Louis airdropped him the photo, and he, Riley and Liam stood watching as he made the post. He wasn’t sure why he was nervous. Nic was right: it was just a photo. But for some reason it felt like a defiant act.

When Nic finished, he looked up, grinning. “I tagged you all. Hope that’s okay.”

A shout from behind turned their heads. The bouncer was waving them over. As they approached, he squinted, then grinned.

“It is Nic Arsenault! And Riley Webb! And Harris?!” He looked like Christmas had come early and stuffed his stocking full of gay hockey players. Reaching behind him, he waved them through as he opened the velvet rope. “Please come in, gentlemen. You don’t wait in line here.”

The bar was dark, and crowded, and humid, and very noisy. Louis gestured for them to follow him as he bee-lined for the bar. He could already tell Liam was going to hate it here, and figured the best way to get him comfortable was to get alcohol into him, stat. At the bar they found themselves ushered to the front of the crowd again, where the bartender insisted on doing shots with them, and then comping their drinks.

“I feel like a king,” said Nic, sipping his beer and turning around to survey the room. “A bi king.”

Riley downed his cocktail and grabbed Louis by the hand, and Louis yelled at Nic to find them a table as he was dragged onto the dance floor.

“Since when do you like dancing?” he said over the music, as Riley pulled him in close and slipped his hands into his back pockets.

“Since I found out you’re so fucking good at it.”

Louis pulled back to give him a sassy eyebrow, but Riley gripped his ass, pressing in harder, and Louis felt his erection against his thigh.

“You’re not just hoping for a repeat of last time,” he said.

Riley got a wicked look. “Let’s just see where the night takes us.”

They danced. Riley had actually improved since last time. Maybe his confidence was extending beyond the ice. Louis got them two more shots and was leaning into his buzz with his eyes closed, letting the music take him, when suddenly, Riley stopped. Louis opened his eyes to find him staring over his shoulder at something behind him. He pointed. Louis turned.

Liam Harris was dancing.

On the other side of the bar, appearing and then disappearing between shoulders and the flashing of the lights, Liam was towering over everyone around him with his arms at his sides, staring intensely Nic, and doing awkward step-touches from side to side.

But Nic was the real spectacle. Louis burst out laughing as he grabbed Riley’s shoulder to point. Opposite Liam, he was grinning like an idiot and doing some kind of unhinged Riverdance. Louis clutched Riley’s shoulder, gasping as tears of laughter rolled down his face. The dream team. The two most coordinated guys in the NHL.

Riley’s face had gone aghast. “Is that what I look like?” he said. “Please tell me that’s not what I look like.”

Louis took his chin between two fingers and turned his face back to his. Very solemnly, he said, “Babe, I’m so sorry to have to be the one to tell you this: but that’s exactly what you look like.”

They left the club around two. Louis was shocked that Nic and Liam were still on the dance floor. Either Liam was very drunk, or he’d discovered an unexpected love of step-touching.

They left Riley’s car in the lot and Ubered back to the house in Westmount, fell tipsily through the front door and up the stairs, stripping each other as they went. Louis tried to convince Riley to stop and do it on the stairs again, but Riley insisted they use the bed because, “It cost a fuck ton of money and I’m gonna use all this goddamn furniture I paid for, goddammit.”

He backed Louis into the bedroom, their pants the last thing to come off, Louis demanding that they keep their socks on for reasons he couldn’t fully explain. Riley pushed him onto the bed and came down on top of him, their mouths sloppy and Riley drunkenly telling Louis how good he looked on the dance floor, and did Louis know how fucking hot he was, seriously so fucking sexy, no but did he really know, though, no but really, did he fully understand?

Louis reached between them to feel him, and Riley bucked away from him, breaking the kiss. He pushed up on his hands and looked down.

“I want to try something.”

Louis eyed him. “Last time you said something like that I ended up naked and blindfolded going seventy-five miles an hour down the freeway with my cock on ice.”

“Yeah, and you fucking loved it.”

Riley kissed him, then got up and went to where his pants had been discarded halfway across the room. He picked them up and felt around in the pockets, then pulled out his phone. Louis sat up, frowning as he came back and sat on the bed. He swiped it open and thumbed around for a moment.

“What are we doing?” said Louis.

Riley held up the phone, open to the camera app, looking nervous. “I wanna make a video?”