Page 124 of The Trade Deadline
“Don’t worry, you’re safe. I ordered dinner, and we can eat that first if you wanna pretend that’s why you’re here…” He trailed off, his expression all sorts of hungry that definitely had nothing to do with food.
“We can eat after.” He was going for nonchalant, but his need was too close to the surface, too long ignored to be easily hidden.
Ryan, as if somehow unaffected by their weeks apart, shot him a crooked smile. It was like when he winked at cameras but all the more potent for it being real. He crossed his arms over his chest and pretended to think it over. “I think I can live with that.”
Lars didn’t know who moved first. Within seconds he had his hands fisted into Ryan’s stupid Otters shirt and Ryan’s arms were circling him. His hands gripped his ass, pulling him close and Lars yelped.
Ryan froze. He’d been leaning in to kiss him but he stopped and frowned. “Are you hurt? I don’t remember any big hits on you in the Pythons series…”
“No. It’s not that.” His cheeks heated up, and he wasn’t thrilled to find out he could still feel embarrassed in front of Ryan. “I’m uhm…I have a plug in.”
The admission earned him a wide-eyed look. Ryan was speechless for a moment before he growled and started backing Lars towards the windows. “How long?”
Lars let himself be manhandled, trusting Ryan to guide him. “Since I left my condo.”
“It’s a two hour flight!”
“I had to add more lube,” he admitted. “Wanted to be ready.”
They hit the window. Ryan snuck a hand beneath the waistband of Lars’s pants, the stupid fancy slacks he’d been forced to wear, and pushed on the end of the plug through his boxers. Lars jerked into him, his dick fully hard and starting to ache as it strained against the zipper. He was also painfully aware of his button-down shirt, making him feel ridiculous when Ryan was in athletic shorts.
“Should I get more lube?” Ryan offered, his voice an octave deeper than it’d been a moment ago. “A condom?”
“Lube, yes,” he said as he pushed his ass back against Ryan’s hand. “Condom, no.”
Ryan sucked in a breath. They’d done that so rarely, only once before that stupid trade, for practical reasons. Right now, Lars honestly didn’t care how much of a mess they made. He wanted to feeleverything.
“Get undressed. I’ll be right back.”
Lars stripped in record time and tossed his clothes over the couch. He wasn’t sure what Ryan was planning, but he figured if he’d opted for the living room and not the bedroom, they’d be doing something more fun than fucking on the couch.
Ryan reappeared, naked and with a bottle of lube in hand. He was also rock hard; Lars licked his lips.
“You can suck me off next time,” Ryan said. “I’m not gonna last long enough to fuck you if you try right now.” Then his eyes drifted down and his brow furrowed. “You said you weren’t hurt.”
Lars looked down reflexively. There was a bruise, yellowing and ugly, along his left side. He’d blocked a shot and it had hit a spot between his shoulder pads and hockey pants. It had hurt like a bitch, but luckily it’d been near the end of the period: he’d managed to stay on his feet and saved the doubling over in pain for the locker room.
“It’s fine,” he said dismissively. “Almost healed. How do you want me?”
Ryan’s dark eyes were back on his in an instant. “Turn around. Hands on the window.”
Lars did as he was told. The city had a decent skyline, but he stopped taking it in the moment Ryan was behind him, a hand on his hip and his lips on Lars’s neck.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Ryan gritted out. “I like when your hair is long.” To prove his point, he grabbed a handful and used it to pull Lars’s head back. He kissed along his neck as he mumbled, “Getting a little too long, though.”
“How else would you manhandle me?” he challenged. He liked the feel of Ryan’s beard against his neck. Not normally his thing, but he enjoyed the added sensation since he couldn’t see Ryan. “You going to fuck me or what? I have dinner plans with a cute guy.”
“So impatient,” Ryan said, his warm breath making Lars shiver and his skin prickle.
A hand trailed down Lars’s back, pinched his ass, and then stopped at the base of the plug. He could feel Ryan’s thumb tracing it before he pushed it in deeper, then let up the pressure. He repeated the movement three more times before digging his fingers in and slowly drawing the plug out. Lars bit his lip, bracing for the feeling of emptiness only to moan when Ryan stopped at the widest part of the tapered plug before pushing it back in roughly.
“You didn’t think I’d make it that easy, did you?” Ryan asked. His voice was fucking sinful, and Lars was struck by the difference between this Ryan (confident, sexy as hell, bossy) and the Ryan he’d met in August (shy about his wants, trying too hard to please, weirdly genuine while being superficial). He’d thought that other version of Ryan was cute, but he would do absolutely anything this newer Ryan said. Hell, he’d endured the most physically uncomfortable flight of his life just to get Ryan’s dick in him faster.
“Don’t play hard to get,” he shot back. “I can feel your dick against my ass. You’re harder than I am. Use the lube and get in me.”
Ryan only chuckled, but he finally pulled the plug out. Lars clenched around the emptiness and sighed in anticipation of being filled again. He spread his legs further apart and placed his hands against the window to balance himself better. The glass fogged around his breath, momentarily obscuring the city from view. They could be anywhere, even back in Baltimore.
He heard the lid popping open. Imagined Ryan squeezing lube onto his fingers before slicking himself up. There was a brief moment, maybe two whole seconds, when Lars hoped Ryan would drag things out a little longer. Make him beg for his cock. It wouldn’t take much encouragement: Lars was so gone on Ryan, he’d be on his knees in a second, pleading in whatever language Ryan wanted.
