Page 74 of The Trade Deadline
Ryan groaned, pushing back to meet Lars’s movements. His hand came up to hold Lars’s wrist where it held his throat. He didn’t pull him away or encourage him to tighten his grip, just stayed there like the contact grounded him.
“Please,” Lars whined. His fingers flexed and he could feel his cock leaking pre-come. “Can I fuck you?”
Ryan ground back against him harder than before, both their movements becoming more desperate. “If you want me to answer,” he grunted, “you’re gonna have to speak in English. I have no idea what you’re saying.”
More awake by the second, Lars forced his brain to switch gears. “Can I —” He gasped. “Can I fuck you?”
Ryan’s hips stuttered. “You can do whatever you want to me,” he gritted out eventually, “but I'm not gonna last long.”
Lars wouldn’t either, admittedly. Now that he’d shaken off more of his grogginess, he was also pretty sure he didn’t have condoms. He knew both of them were healthy—the team’s medical screenings assured that—but he wasn’t a fan of the mess. As he reluctantly let go of Ryan to roll towards the nightstand, he searched blindly for lube, not even convinced he had much of that.
The bottle was sadly almost empty. No penetration just yet, but he had a Plan B.
Slicking himself up, he rolled back towards Ryan and nudged his thighs apart. He pushed his dick between Ryan’s thighs, sliding easily along his perineum and balls.
“Fuck,” Ryan hissed.
“I love making you swear,” Lars said. He wrapped a hand around Ryan’s waist to grip his cock. He nosed along Ryan’s neck and (in his opinion, very admirably) kept still. “May I?” he asked as he drew his hand slowly up and down Ryan’s dick with a loose grip.
“Please,” was the only response he got, an open invitation.
Lars accepted enthusiastically, adjusting Ryan’s left leg to gain better access as he thrust between his thighs and jerked Ryan off, all while kissing along his spine and devouring his musky scent. Ryan grew tense and his breathing grew ragged. He reached back to thread his hand in Lars’s hair, pulling slightly and moaning as he did it. Lars had never had a hair-pulling kink before, but he was quickly developing one.
“Come for me?” he whispered. Ryan nodded.
He saw Ryan’s orgasm the second before his hand was covered in come: Ryan’s eyes fluttering closed as he bit his lip and his whole face went slack. Lars stroked him through it, then shifted his hand to Ryan’s hip so he could thrust more roughly into his tight warmth. He came a moment later, his own release spilling on the sheets next to Ryan’s.
“We should get cleaned up,” Ryan said, his voice absolutely wrecked. Which wasn’t fair. How was Lars supposed to function when he knew Ryan sounded like that after sex?
“Shower?” he said instead. His own voice wasn’t much better, but he seemed to be a little more capable of movement as he started nudging them apart.
“ ‘mkay.”
The shower was more functional than anything else. They indulged in a few kisses before quickly washing up. They had to get to the rink in an hour, and that didn’t leave them enough time to fool around again.
“You can borrow some clothes,” Lars said when Ryan started pulling on the same outfit he’d worn on the plane yesterday. He hadn’t brought up his duffle bag, though if he packed like Lars did, there probably wasn’t much left clean after a week on the road.
Ryan gestured to his faded Blue Crabs shirt. “Trade my team shirt for yours?”
Fair. Lars didn’t think he owned a shirt that didn’t have some hockey logo branded on it. “It’d be cleaner,” he offered.
“I won’t be wearing it long.”
Lars’s brain supplied a very helpful, detailed image of Ryan taking off his clothes again and all the things he could do to him, before the words clicked. He frowned. “Coach said it’s an optional skate. You don’t have to suit up.”
“And I always skate,” Ryan said simply. He’d finished pulling on his hoodie and had collected his keys, wallet, and cell phone.
“Aren’t you tired?” Lars didn’t understand why he kept pushing. Normally he didn’t give a shit if his teammates did or didn’t participate in optional training, or if they were tired. They were all tired, after all. It came with the job. But itbotheredhim that Ryan might be overexerting himself.
There was a hint of frustration in Ryan’s gaze now, and Lars wished he hadn’t said anything. “I’m fine,” he insisted. “We slept well, didn’t we? I gotta skate, anyway, or I’ll have toomuchenergy.”
“Yeah, I understand that,” Lars conceded. Sometimes the best thing to do was keep moving. He also knew Ryan overworked himself because of his perceived low position on the team. While it personally drove him crazy, he didn’t think it was really his place to say anything.
They drove separately, with Lars even waiting a few minutes after Ryan left before following. Although he doubted anyone would notice, it was already suspicious that Ryan was wearing the same clothes he had on yesterday. There were definitely dots to connect, and there’d be more if they kept this thing between them going, so it didn’t hurt to be a little cautious early on.
They maintained the very delicate blend of time together and time apart at the rink. Easy enough since Lars didn’t participate in the skate, instead opting to work with the trainers and get a quick run in. Even when the caterers served lunch, they ate at the same table but with several people between them. Too far away for Lars to stretch his feet and tangle his legs with Ryan’s like he wanted to; he had to settle for spending a good five minutes imagining it. It also pleased him that he could resist temptation. Maybe he really had learned from last time. He must have: Ryan was waaay more enticing than any of his previous hookups.
It was part of why he was excited to get Ryan alone again, and he finally cornered him on the way out to the parking garage to do just that.
