The room was filled with soft moans and deep groans as the young man thrust his hips hard and fast into the red-haired young woman beneath him.
"Baby... yes, faster..." The woman's cry of pleasure increased with every thrust until she fell apart.
Baby groaned as he spilt his release into the condom, breathing hard.
In the next second, he pulled away, ripping off the condom in a quick motion and dressing himself up hastily.
The woman sat up, "Baby, you always do this... can't we cuddle for once?" She asked, eyeing him suggestively.
"Gotta run, Candy. I've got a match, can't stay, you know the drill," he winked at her as he fixed up the last button of his shirt.
Candy sighed, "Then, good luck."
"I'm the luck, sweetie. See you later," Baby winked and hurried out of Candy's dormitory room, rushing straight to the boys' vip dormitory to get ready for his match.
___
The clock read 1:12 left in the third period. The score was tied 3-3, and the energy in the arena felt less like air and more like concrete. Baby, his face slick with sweat under the warm, reddish stadium lights, coiled at the top of the defensive circle.
His rival, wearing the blue of the opposing team, had just finished a brutal shift.
Exhaustion was etched on Baby's face, though his intense blue eyes never left the puck.
The opposing defenseman dumped the puck weakly toward the boards. That was the window.
Baby exploded.
He beat the defensive forward to the loose puck, using a burst of speed that seemed to drain the last bit of sound from the crowd. He angled wide, driving straight up the wall, carrying the puck on the edge of his stick blade. He was a red blur against the white ice.
He surged over the centre red line, crossing the invisible dividing line between safety and offence. He drove straight for the defender, executing a lightning-quick toe-drag that made the defenseman lunge and miss. The path was open.
In a move that defined his arrogance and skill, Baby didn't waste a shot. He didn't even look at the net. He carried the puck right to the attacking blue line, and with a final, smooth push, he forged into the offensive zone, beating the last defenseman who couldn't pivot fast enough to cover.
Now, it was just him and the goalie.
Baby didn't shoot high or pick a corner. He held the puck an extra beat, drawing the goalie out just enough, then flicked a perfect, low shot. The vulcanised rubber puck slid like a whisper, skimming the bottom of the ice and rattling off the inside of the post—a ping! Swallowed by a roar—before nestling deep in the net.
The siren blared, stopping the clock at 0:58.
Goal. Game-Winner.
The arena erupted. The sound was a physical thing, and the lights, normally diffused, felt focused entirely on the Captain in red. He raised his stick high, not in humility, but in proud defiance.
The crowd started chanting: "BA-BY! BA-BY! BA-BY!"
He ignored the celebratory chaos of his own teammates, who were piling up near the net. Instead, Baby skated directly toward the penalty box side of the ice. He located his rival instantly—the blue-light player leaning on his stick, head down, utterly defeated.
Baby stopped a few feet away, straightened his posture, and posed: chest out, chin high, accepting the adoration of the crowd that was now at its fever pitch. It was a victory lap meant only for one person's eyes.
With the chanting still echoing through the rafters, he nodded once, a gesture of absolute finality, then turned and skated off the ice. The heavy, insulated door to the tunnel swung open for him, and Baby walked straight into the private silence of the locker room, having delivered another win, another star-making moment, exactly as expected.
He was ready to leave the school and head to the club where he played a different type of game. A game that involved the hearts of desperate, willing girls.
However, the moment Baby stepped into the locker room, his euphoric feeling was soon stumped by the presence of none other than his sworn rival from the neighbouring college: The captain of Eastvale Academy.
Tall, broad shoulders, disturbing steel-grey eyes, sharp jaws, short dark hair, and an annoyingly handsome resting devil face.
Saint Kross, the only person who had ties to the number of wins and losses with Baby, and so far, Baby's one true enemy, not just on the ice, politically, too. Their parents were sworn rivals in politics, never supporting the same goal.
Baby was used to being worshipped, respected, and even feared, but somehow, Saint had proved to be the only person who didn't bow to him.
Saint's calm pride and subtle arrogance had a way of grating Baby's nerves in a way no one, and nothing could ever do.
He was everything Baby wasn't: calm, clean records, and his parents even loved him.
Slowly, Baby walked over to the icy king and lifted his head to stare him right in the eyes.
"You have trespassed, Saint. And how happy I am that you did..." he stepped closer, a slow smirk spreading across his lips as he did.
"You know the rules, only teammates allowed in the locker room..." he chuckled, his hand tightening around his stick as he tried to hold himself back from testing his punching skills on Saint's unsmiling face.
'You think you're all high and mighty, you have just walked into your demise.' Baby's malicious thought echoed in his head.
The penalty for an outsider who entered a team's locker room was unforgiving, not to mention a rival! He believed this was his opportunity to crush the perfect Saint Kross.
"I'll be merciful, leave now before I call you in and you lose the right to ever setting your foot on the ice again –"
"Ah, I see you have met your co-captain, Baby," Coach Nickel, an average man in his mid-thirties. He wore grey sweatpants and a white top as he walked into the locker room, an unopened bottle of water in his hand.
Baby froze, blood draining from his face, "What?!" He bellowed and immediately snapped his face toward Nickel, "This is a prank, right, coach?" He asked, his hands balling into hard fists.
Nickel walked over to Baby and gently patted his shoulder, "Some decisions have been made, Baby." He spoke in a resigned tone, nodding at Baby, "You will be working with Saint from now on." He informed.
"Hello, Baby," Saint's smooth and deep baritone suddenly sounded behind a raging Baby.
Baby froze, allowing his anger to rape his body.
He spun around, his blue eyes a mirror to his angry soul as he glared daggers at Saint, "Co-captain, huh? Who set this up? Your pompous father, or your goody-two-shoes Mother? Huh? What do they want this time?!" Baby suddenly pushed Saint's chest, sending him staggering a few feet backwards.
"Baby!" Nickel hurried over and grabbed Baby's hand as he was about to charge toward Saint again.
"Calm down, Baby, we don't want a scandal on either of you. Right now, you two are the hope of our college –"
"That's the problem! It used to be me! Just me! What the fuck is he doing here? His parents must be trying to rile mine over something, I know those bastards," Baby huffed, clenching his jaws in unravelling anger.
Saint gently straightened his clothes, casually moving his hair away from his forehead as he strode toward Baby, his steel-grey eyes looking colder than the ice Baby had just left.
"You will mind your words, Baby. I might not be this calm next time –"
"What are you going to do, huh? Punch me?" Baby chuckled against Nickel's hold, "Oh, I forgot, you're mama's golden retriever, you'd never do anything to dent your family's fake perfect image." He stepped forward, leaning in to whisper in Saint's ear, "Here, in Westbridge High, I fucking rule. Watch your back, mama's boy." He patted Saint's shoulder and stepped back.
"You can return him now, coach, our school does not need him," Baby picked up his stick and walked over to his locker, roughly shrugging past Saint.
Saint glanced at the coach and clenched his jaw, trying his best to contain his anger.
"Saint, I'm glad you're being the mature one. I assure you, Baby will eventually come around and I know you two will make the best captain –"
"No, we won't –"
"You don't have a choice, Baby. Neither do I." Saint's calm voice cut in smoothly.
Baby paused, turning to face Saint, "Oh, I think you do. How about giving your daddy a call and telling him no for the first time?" He taunted, smirking.
Sain ignored him, pushing his hands into his pockets.
"He's right, Baby. He doesn't have a choice on this matter, either," Nickel confirmed.
Baby frowned, his face turning serious, "What do you mean?" He questioned.
"The Apex Hockey Consortium had requested that you two be put on one team for a year. They want to see how good a team you two can make. Succeed, and you two will be invited to join the club of your dreams," Nickel explained, looking from one captain to the other.
"You've got to be kidding me. THC? Why would they do that? I applied solo, not as a duo," Baby asked, balling his fists by his sides.
THC was the most prestigious hockey organisation in the whole world, getting invited to play for them has been Baby's lifelong dream, but, he was suddenly envisioning his failure as Saint has been added to the picture.
How was he supposed to be a team with the pride-loaded peacock?
"They want you two. They are all absolute peak of the sport. Very high-status. They have planted agents across the school to monitor your interactions, I advise you two to bury the hatchet, for your own good. One mistake, and you're put off the list, blacklisted, forever," Nickel patted Baby's arm, nodding at him in encouragement.
"I'll see you two tomorrow morning for practice. I'll let you introduce your co-captain to your teammates," Nickel said as he heard the victory shouts of boys approaching the locker room.
He quietly left, leaving the two Captains, to sort themselves out.
"Trust me, Baby. I don't want to be here, either." Saint smirked at Baby and stepped back to lean against a locker, his eyes flicking to the door that would soon be swung open by the guys.
Baby was frozen, shocked, he never expected his day to end with such tragedy.
'A year? I have to put up with this bastard for a year –"
His thoughts were interrupted as the door swung open and in trooped his teammates in uniform red jerseys, and Baby swallowed hard.
The hard part has arrived, the part where he suddenly introduces Sain, their three-year rival, as their new co-captain.
He knew that things were about to get messy from the moment he set his eyes on Saint's smug face.