Tyler thought things would be different in Dallas. He just had no idea how different it could be.

“We-ell,” Tyler says, drawing the word out, “I mayhaveaccidentallygottenmarried.” Jamie stares out at the Pacific Ocean and seriously considers throwing himself in.

Ninety percent of everyone's problems could be solved by a robot that just texted NO to hockey players on a regular basis. Unfortunately, Sidney didn't have a robot.

Jamie accidentally discovers Tyler's profile on JizzHands.com. A situation develops.

He doesn't want to go back to the minors, or fucking get kicked out all together, so he's got to get this right. He's going to be perfect even if it kills him.

Tyler is an excellent bro, and he endeavors to provide excellent bro action.

You are not your biology. Tyler’s mother had told him that so many times growing up. When he told her he wanted to play hockey but was afraid to go up against so many alphas. You are not your biology. When an alpha triggered his heat during a scrum and Tyler had to be carried off the ice, fever already burning up his bones. You are not your biology. Tyler wishes he could believe her.

Alphas aren't allowed to exhaust themselves by fucking an omega in heat during the playoffs. There are sex machines for that.

Jamie remembered the first time he spoke to Tyler Seguin, or rather, Jamie remembered the first time Tyler Seguin spoke to him. He hadn’t even been fully aware of the situation, sitting and waiting for their names to be called at the All-Star Game, even then he’d kept catching himself glancing at Tyler from across the room even though he hadn’t meant to. It was just that Tyler Seguin happened to the the best thing he had ever smelled in his life. “Look, I’m sure you’re nice guy and all, but I don’t really do Alphas, you know? You’re all way too demanding and stuck in your ways so I’d appreciate it if you’d stop looking at me like you’re a starving dog and I’m a steak okay?” Tyler had said.

Sid and Tyler come together at Worlds to win gold, commiserate about falling for unattainable teammates, and comfort each other with their dicks. However, when they come home those teammates might not be as unattainable as they thought and are getting the wrong idea.

This time yesterday, Jamie was picking Tyler up from the airport. It's been six hours since Nill called her and said, "Hey, looks like you're in town, can you come in today?" and five since Jordie texted help I have a wardrobe emergency. Half the notifications on Tyler's phone are Snapchats from Brownie, presumably 50/50 dogs and blurry dick pics. This is Tyler's life.

Tyler gets traded to Dallas on a Thursday.

In retrospect, Jordie realizes Jamie’s coming out might have been a much bigger deal to him than Jordie had let him make it. Jamie is trans. Jordie doesn't care, and he will murder everyone that does. (POV Jordie)

Tyler winked at him. "Hey, want me to act all demure and nervous about it? That could be fun." The mind boggled. "No," Jamie said firmly.

Tyler has gone so long without touching an alpha that it's starting to have a negative effect on him. Good thing Jamie is always willing to help him out.

“How much is bail set for?” Jamie asks without hesitation and not even a hint of sleep in his voice. Fucker. “I’ll get Jordie to do a transfer. Whatever it is, we’ll get you out.” Tyler thinks it’s commendable that he doesn’t cut the call then and there. Then again, once word gets out that Sidney Crosby is possibly broken, Jamie and Jordie are the last chance he has of actually making it back across the Atlantic alive. Or alternatively, Tyler Seguin Worries That He Broke Sidney Crosby In Prague With Indelible Ink.

Jordie is a totally supportive brother, which is why he's hiring Jamie a stripper.

"Hey, so," Tyler says when the marks on his ass have faded to a gross yellow-green. "Next time, you wanna make out first?"

It’s okay to be a wolf in the NHL now. That’s what everyone tells Dylan, anyway. To Podfic: "I Love the Riddles That You Speak" & "Race Like Falcons to Crash and Burn"

The girl on Tinder is typing again. why don’t you show me how good you are with a cock Tyler coughs and drops his phone. That’s—wow. He did not expect her to go there.

“Did, uh,” Jamie asks, “did this ever happen when you played this game with Brownie?” “Nope,” Tyler says.

Tyler Seguin is a very good wedding planner. Which is why he’s not freaking out that Jamie Benn of the Dallas fucking Stars is sitting in his office.

After the body issue comes out, Tyler only gets one tweet about his junk. It’s a chirp about the proverbial dick-to-ducky ratio in the web-only behind-the-scenes shower pictures. The stupid fake Stanley Cup ass tattoo gets way more attention than anything else, other than the fact that he’s naked in front of a camera. That’s how he wants it: people talking about what he does, not who he is. In which Tyler is trans, and Jamie isn't. A story about coming out, or not; breaking up, or not; and bunching mox. Or not.

Tyler realizes there’s something wrong with him when he’s thirteen years old.