All Chapters of Pucking Around with Fate: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

POV: Dual, Khyle and Gunner"Gunner! Watch it!"The last time Gunner had checked, he'd been moving forward. And then suddenly, he was stumbling backward, a sharp wrenching on his arm the source of his unplanned change in direction.The whoosh of cold air and deafening roar of a city bus flooded his senses, the thick smell of exhaust passing through his lungs and out again in a thick plume. And there was pain in his arm. He turned and glanced down before looking up into the face of one very agitated orangette. Khyle's hold on the peak of his bicep was harsh, fingers curled into his hoodie and digging through it to reach him in a crushing grip. It felt desperate.Gunner's world snapped back into focus, realizing all at once what had almost happened to his body while his brain was off on vacation.He'd thought he hadn't lost his situational awareness, but he'd been mistaken. It was back. Or it had never left. The sensation of going numb to practically everything around him when Khyle was

POV: Dual, Khyle and GunnerGunner had expected to have to work hard to leash his temper, but remarkably it hadn't come to that yet. He knew there would be sparks, their natural impulses inevitably leading to each of them mounting a verbal assault on the other. He just hadn't anticipated enjoying it. Not in the slightest. But without the immediate stress of the game on his back, he was finding Khyle tolerable.Brunch accomplished and both men refueled, they let themselves move with the flow of the city, walking for a while, stopping at stores, making small talk. Nothing deep. Nothing personal. It was like neither of them was ready to go there just yet. After an hour, the breeze picked up suddenly and it started to snow.Khyle checked his phone, searching the weather as they walked."They didn't call for this," he muttered."Pfft. They never get it right," Gunner grunted."If we were that bad, we'd be out of jobs." Gunner looked up and shrugged."We kinda are though, aren't we."Brown

POV: Dual, Khyle and GunnerHe couldn't fathom how the great Santos Khyle, supposed famed high scorer, could possibly be as inept at pool as he seemed to be. People at their caliber, with their sharp reflexes, heightened senses, and natural athleticism, tended to excel at sports in general. But Khyle sucked. In fact, he sucked so spectacularly that Gunner had conceded to let him have a freebie shot every time he missed. As would be expected, Khyle being a man with degrees of pride that Gunner was beginning to get a handle on, it did not go down well. But after one round of the torturous game on even ground, Khyle ate crow and took the deal, and allowed Gunner to rack them up again.They were already on their third game. Khyle would not give up so easily."How did you ever not learn how to play pool?" he queried, brow set in a pose of disgust."I just didn't," the orangette retorted flatly. Khyle was blushing like a scarlet sunset as he bent over to take his shot, a strained expression

POV: Dual, Khyle and Gunner"I don't do on-the-spot interviews," the bluenet growled firmly.He hadn't particularly snapped at the man, but his voice carried a clear warning that sent the reporter bolting straight to the relative safety of Khyle.The man was clearly hungry for a story of some kind if he was hassling the two of them on their day off. Maybe it was a slow news day. Khyle's mood was actually fairly light today, given his company, so he shrugged his agreement and obliged the eager reporter, willing for now to entertain the man's questions. He wanted to give him some credit, hoping he was just looking for a comment on the recent game they had won, since it had ended their long streak of misery. But somehow he doubted it."Can you tell the people what it is about you two that makes you fight with such passion?"Khyle cringed at the strangely worded question, but he tried his best to answer as neutrally as possible."Well, not really. But we're putting the effort in and just

POV: KhyleThe road trip had gone well.That was the clean version of it, the one Khyle would have given to a reporter or a teammate who asked with the specific polite casualness of someone who wasn't particularly invested in the answer. The longer version was more complicated, which was becoming something of a theme in his life.They had won. Two games in two nights, away from home, against teams that had been giving the Reapers trouble all season. Khyle had scored in both. Not spectacular goals, nothing that would end up on a highlight reel or get called as a three star, but clean and important and his. The kind of goal that happened when a player stopped fighting himself and just moved. The locker room had been loud both nights, and he had let himself be loud with it, because he deserved that, and because the alternative was standing in the corner processing feelings while everyone else celebrated, which was not a viable option.He had not called Gunner from the road. He had though