Ok, here's the standard; this story is mine, all mine, don't copy it for profit, but feel free to read, print and save the thing for your own personal use. If you shouldn't be reading stories like this one, don't get caught. The non-standard thing about this story is that it's going to be about a trio type love story, sex may or may not occur, and I'm not going to describe the physical characteristics of the boys until I get feedback, or complete the second chapter. The story is set in the early 80's and depending on which way the readers respond to the tale, the characters may or may not have std issues. This is the first time that I've written a story that I want others to read, it is complete and utter fiction, although some of the events could occur, I have no proof that any of them actually did. Any hockey hero's mentioned are there for the flavour of the tale and as far as I know have rarely if ever had sex. The number characters signify a change of viewpoint.
Slapshot chpt 1 Gwin's point of view
God created hockey in Canada, and it was good. There is no better sport, southerners and foreigners just don't understand that up here in the true north Hockey is the religion that binds our society together. Ivan, Virgil and I grew up together in Edmonton, Canada. We lived in the same neighbourhood, went to the same schools and we played on the same teams from the first time we hit the ice. I'm a centre, Ivan is my left winger and Virgil plays right wing. I think our coaches must have suspected how close the three of us were even when we were little kids; we always played on the same line, for some reason we always knew what the others were thinking and the results showed on ice. Don't get me wrong, none of us were a Gretzky, Kurri, or Semenko, but for our age and how we played together we were the best in the city. Our story really began in 1983, we were 15 turning 16 at mid-season, mid-season was also our birthdays - December 23, 25 and 27 - we had this game with our arch-rivals the Wolverines and things got a little bit out of hand just before the end of the game.
Our team - The Bulldogs - was tied with no score going into the third period. The first two periods were kinda standard, parents in the stands hurled insults at the coaches, refs and the players. The kids on the ice were moving the puck back and forth from one side to the other and getting into the odd fight on ice before and after taking penalties, but the two goalies - Mark Wolcott for the enemy and John Smith Bulldog extrordinare - stopped every shot. The first faceoff of the third period was the last time that the three of us actually played hockey. The puck was dropped and I won the face off, passed to Ivan and we broke through the Wolverine line and started to work the puck to their goal. Ivan passed to Virgil, Virgil took his shot at their net and on the rebound I wacked the puck into their net. Of course we were happy, perhaps I shouldn't have called their team a bunch of rabid dogs nor should I have said that the goalie couldn't stop a puck if he was fatter than the net. Anyhow one of the Wolverines defencemen, Jeff Wolcott, took offence at my remarks and he fired the puck at me while I was hugging Ivan and Virgil. I didn't think I had a glass jaw, but getting hit by a puck in the face isn't a pleasant experience. I was in a bit of discomfort - hockey injuries do not hurt, just ask any coach and they'll agree with me - at the hospital I found out that not only was I missing part of my front tooth but my jaw was broken and would be wired shut for the next 6 weeks. Of course the ref called a game misconduct penalty against Jeff, but Virgil and Ivan weren't too happy about the shot that knocked me down. They dropped their gloves and started to fight, Jeff did pretty well at defending himself against my two mates he stayed on his skates for at least 5 seconds before falling to the ice with Virgil and Ivan on top of him. Virgil and Ivan weren't able to do too much damage to Jeff before his brother the goalie skated up and gave Virgil a savage kick to his head. The skate carved a nasty scar into Virgil's face from his mouth to his jaw. Later on after the swelling went down, the girls at school, Ivan and myself thought the scar made Virgil one of the hottest young men in our school. Virgil's parents didn't agree, but they were from the States and just didn't understand hockey. Ivan was dragged off Jeff by the ref and sent to the lockers, Jeff and his brother were taken by the linesmen to the penalty box and to the enemy lockers respectively. The game continued as Virgil and I were taken to the hospital and we won 1-0. It was good to leave the game on a victory.
The good thing about getting visible injuries in Hockey is that the other kids in H/S were less likely to be concerned about my sexual orientation, since I didn't whine about having a split lip and chipped tooth, there was no way that I was gay. The bad thing was that my parents who were from Wales didn't like the idea of spending more money on dental work, nor did they like the idea of my being hurt again. On the way back home from the hospital the 'rents decided to talk at me about the situation. My mom opened the "conversation".
"Gwin, we're concerned for your future." Words that no teenager ever wants to hear, I could feel my face start to pale. "The doctor's have told us that you won't be able to play hockey again for another six weeks. Your father and I have decided to refuse to give you permission to keep playing such a dangerous sport."
Of course being the responsible near adult that I was I reacted in a mature and rational manner. "Hockey's not dangerous! You can't do this to me!" It was kinda hard to yell at my parents loudly enough with my jaw wired shut, but I was doing well enough. "It's not fair, I didn't do anything wrong! You can't make me stop playing hockey goddamit!"
"Enough!" Bellowed my father, "you're a child, and it's our responsibility to make sure that you're prepared for life, and life has never been fair. You will not speak to us like that! We can and will stop you from continuing to play hockey, it's a barbaric sport! You have been badly injured, your jaw is broken, you have a chipped tooth and if you're not able to keep a civil tongue in your head when you talk to your mother I'll take you back to the hospital to have your lips sewn together!"
"Honey, we love you and are very worried. We know that you're in pain and need to go straight to bed, so just rest and we'll continue this discussion tomorrow morning. Today's been stressfull enough for all of us and I'm sorry that I've upset you by telling you of our decision tonight. Trust me, by tomorow you'll agree with us that it's time for you to move on, and start playing a nice sport like soccer."
I was too mad to say another word, I knew that my parents are very loving and only wanted the best for me. But to my mind they were trying to deny me the opportunity to play in the NHL. An unforgivable thing for a parent to do to a child in Canada as far as I was concerned. Ok, so my mouth was starting to throb and the idea of going a month and a half without a burger or other solid food wasn't something that I would like much. To stop me playing after what I saw as a minor hurt was outragous. To suggest that I start to play a girl's sport like soccer was like asking a Muslim to eat pork, or a Hindu to eat at McDonalds; Blasphemy! They might want to talk to me about this, I decided not to say another word to them until they changed their minds. Ooops, maybe I wasn't so mature after all. Perhaps had I spoken with them in a calm manner about how important Hockey was, I might have convinced them to let me keep playing. My heart was breaking over the idea that I wouldn't see Ivan and Virgil on the ice again. I didn't really understand that I was in love with my buddies, I knew that I wasn't gay even though the only wet dreams that I ever had featured both Ivan, Virgil and me. Even though the sight of them made my stomach ache and my dick tingle, there was no way on earth that I was any kind of faggot. I didn't suck dick, it was just my fondest desire. The feelings would pass in time, my priest assured me of that.
###################### Virgil's point of view
The game was awesome, Gwin, Ivan and me were the master's of the ice that night. Sure the skunks had finally found someone who could stop a shot, but we knew that eventually we'd beat them, we always did. In the third I remember that Ivan passed me the puck from Gwin after the faceoff, we bolted towards the net and I took a damn good slapshot from the blue line, I was sure that the goalie couldn't stop the puck but the bastard blocked my shot. Fortunately the rebound landed right onto Gwin's stick and a second later the puck was in their net. Classic! Gwin, Ivan and I celebrated our points in our usual fashion by yelling loudly and hugging each other. Gwin was so happy that he kissed Ivan and me by banging our heads together and planting one on our lips. Just as we pulled our heads apart I heard Jeff mutter something about dirty fags and he shot the puck at us. The puck flew between me and Ivan and hit Gwin, damn, I've never seen anything like it before. Gwin's head snapped back as the puck hit him right in the jaw and the blood went flying, Gwin fell straight back and landed hard on the ice. I dropped my gloves at the same time as Ivan and we started to pound Jeffy for attacking our captain. Jeff wasn't much of a fighter, he fell like the sack of crap that he was. Unfortunately for me, his brother was just as fucked up as Jeff, Mark's skate slashed the left side of my face open. It took 24 stiches to close the wound, but I later found out that I was luckier than Gwin, at least my jaw wasn't wired shut. I didn't enjoy the ride to the hospital, even though we got to ride in an ambulance neither of us were hurt badly enough for them to use the siren. When the doc told me how many stiches I had on my face I thought I'd look like Frankenstein and yes, tough guy that I am I started to cry when I got into my mother's car and saw my face in the mirror. Mother gave me a hug and kissed my right cheek, assuring me that everything would be better in the morning and that I was to go straight to bed when we got home. I was upset about the stiches on my face, even though I knew that this sort of war wound would make the girls chase after me much more than they already did. I didn't want the girls to chase me, Gwin's kiss had awoken in me a feeling I've always had but long suppressed. I knew that uncle Rob down in South Carolina was gay, and that my father loved his brother dearly, but I also heard my father telling mother how dissapointed my grandparents were and about how miserable Rob's life was at school and work when people found out about his "lifestyle." I didn't want to disappoint my parents, my older sister and two younger twin brothers with my own "choice," I could never tell Ivan and Gwin that I had fallen in love with both of them and only wanted to love them both the way that my parents loved each other. I knew that they were straight, we all went on dates with girls, Ivan and Gwin always talked about how hot the girls in school were, but when I kissed my date I couldn't help notice that the only thing I could think of was how much I'd rather be kissing Gwin and Ivan. The platonic friendship we shared was worth far more to me than one night of hot and sleazy sex.
After an uncomfortable night's sleep I was the last out of the family out of bed and went down to breakfast. At the bottom of the stairs I paused as I heard my mother laying down the law to the siblings.
"Virgil was hurt in last night's game. The goalie of the other team kicked your brother with his skate and Virgil has more than 20 stiches on his face. You are not to stare at him like he's in a circus' sideshow. He is still your brother, he is still a very handsome young man who will make some nice lady a very good husband. You are not to tease him, you will not stare at the boy. He's going to be very sensitive about such an injury and you will support him during his recovery from this. You will not dissapoint me on this issue. Do I make myself clear?"
Of course Matt turned to his twin Luke and told him to go get their camera. I heard my older sister Isabelle cuff Matt on the back of the head and start to tell them off. Their bickering stopped as I walked into the kitchen and they were all speechless as they stared at the new feature of my face. My father told me last night that when the stiches came out I'd have an awesome dueling scar. My sister screamed, and started to cry for me, the twins asked me what the other guy looked like. Mother cleared her throat and at once my siblings turned their heads and stared at their breakfast instead of me.
"Are you going to keep on playing hockey, or haven't you had enough of that sport yet?" asked Isabelle.
With more confedence than I thought I could muster I replied "Of course I'm going to keep on playing hockey, this is a little scratch. Nothing major."
My father looked a bit grim and stopped the breakfast discussion by saying that he'd be talking to me later about that. As mother gave me my breakfast she told me to take two vitamin E's to speed my recovery.
################# Ivan's point of view
I spent the rest of the game in the locker room, damn refs gave me a game misconduct and banned me from playing the last two games before the new year. I didn't notice that Virgil and I dropped our gloves and tried to attack that Jeff idiot until we were both on top of the guy. When Mark kicked Virgil I was grabbed by one of the linesmen and dragged over to the bench. I saw the referee and the other linesman separate Mark from Virgil and he was sent to the Wolverine's dressing room, hey we even got an escort to the dressing rooms from the security guards to prevent us from killing one another. I knew that Virgil and Gwin were going to the hospital so I packed their civies into their hockey bags, and waited for the game to end.
When the game was over the rest of our team came into the dressing room in very high spirits, Gwin was the only one to score but our teammates still wanted to get revenge for the dirty way the Wolverines played. We of course did no wrong, our game was clean. All of the penalties that we took were in retaliation for what the other players did, right? Well, our coach thought differently. He entered our dressing room in a foul mood, and took no time in letting us know what he thought of us.
"Ivan!" The coach barked at me "You're off my team, I don't ever want to see someone like you on my team again! You and Virgil ganged up on another player! The both of you can join the Wolverines for all I care, get your stuff and get out of my lockerroom! NOW!"
As I left the lockerroom the coach continued to rant at the other players.
"I don't ever want to see you boys playing like this again! You're a disgrace to the game the team! I don't give a damn if Don Cherry does laud violence in the NHL! You are not professional hockey players! The penalties you idiots took nearly cost us this game, the only redeaming feature of this event is that they played worse than you did!
As the door closed I wasn't able to hear much more of what the coach was saying, what he said to me continued to echo in my head as I walked to my car. Off the team, goddamnit! Had the coach somehow figured out that I was gay? What else would he have meant by that crack about someone like me on his team? How did he know? What would happen when my parents found out about this? How was I going to tell Gwin and Virgil that I was off the team and in love with them.
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Ok, that's enough for now. I'm still not sure where this fantasy will go, hmmm maybe the boys are going camping after Christmas.... Yah, winter camping at Rock Lake was one of my fondest memories of youth, unfortunately when I went I went with a bunch of straight guys and the only fun we had was shooting rabbits.