Chapter 16
DEVON
I grew up in Toronto. I understood lake-effect snow.
I didn’t remember that year, of course. But Mom told me about it. Reminiscing that she’d been stuck for nearly five days in the house where she’d been rooming. She’d gone stir-crazy.
The urge to ask her if she’d known my father back then had been strong, but I hadn’t. The look of hurt that crossed her face anytime I mentioned him had me, once I was old enough to understand, never saying his name again. I’d thought, when she was dying, that she might bring him up.
She never did.
After she died, when I hit my teen years, I wondered if she even knew who he was.
I’d never known her to be promiscuous, but then I was a kid and had no way of knowing for certain.
Maybe she’d slept around before she got pregnant and decided after I was born that she was done with that.
God knew I’d never met any men in her life.
If she had any lovers, she kept them far away from me.
She would’ve been too busy. Keeping a roof over our heads. Keeping me in hockey equipment.
As I lay on my hotel bed, trying not to think about Jack one floor above and two rooms over, I assured myself I wasn’t obsessed.
What are you up to? How’s the snow in Toronto?
Mickey
Check the fucking weather app. I’m busy.
Doing what?
Wouldn’t you love to know?
I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t care.
Fuck off. You barely texted me after you moved to the Grizzlies, and now all of a sudden, we’re best friends? Because you need a texting buddy? Avoiding something, or should I say someone, in particular?
You must be bored.
Why do you say that?
You’re texting in complete and grammatically correct sentences.
Fuck off, Devs.
Yet I knew he wasn’t really annoyed. If he didn’t want to text, then he wouldn’t.
You are my best friend.
The bubbles appeared. Then disappeared. Then appeared again.
I miss you. And not just your flogger.
I swallowed.
You could always move to Vancouver.
Most expensive city in Canada????
I laughed.
Uh, buddy, Toronto is the second most expensive…
Right. Because this was the most important thing in my life right now.
Are you missing him?
Don’t know what you’re talking about.
Don’t bullshit the bullshitter.
I swallowed, gazed toward where Jack’s room was, looked out the window at the falling snow illuminated by the parking lot lights, and sighed. I’d kept the drapes pulled back. Because I wanted to see the world. Snow dampened everything. Sound, light, and—most importantly—grief.
I miss my mom. She…
I couldn’t finish.
Would’ve been so fucking proud of you. And also would’ve told you to keep your nose clean. To keep your cock out of…
More bubbles.
I held my breath.
Is he fucking you or are you fucking him?
Thank God he hadn’t used Coach’s name. I kept my phone screen locked, but shit happened.
Seriously?
I pictured Mickey laughing his ass off.
Just making sure you weren’t—
Don’t say it. Don’t ever say it.
Certain words just weren’t okay to be tossed around as far as I was concerned. Not in jest, that was for sure.
I’m laughing my ass off.
Just as I’d suspected.
I really do have to take off. You going to be okay? I can cancel.
Nope. Go. I love you.
Right back atcha.
I put the phone down. Mickey had never come out and said he loved me.
I just sort of had always understood. One thing I’d learned from Mom’s death was that tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed.
I wanted Mickey to know that I loved him.
That I’d miss him like fuck if something happened to him.
That my life would be less worth living without him in it. So I told him I loved him.
He, in his own way, loved me back.
My phone buzzed.
Life’s too fucking short. If you want him…go for it. Hockey isn’t forever. Love is.
My heart seized even as a needle scratched across a record in my head.
Love?
I’d never told Mickey that I loved Jack. Like, at all. To the best of my recollection, I’d spent the entire discussion saying all the reasons why we couldn’t be together. Certainly nothing about how we could, should, or would.
My phone buzzed.
Where I expected to see Mickey’s name, though, I didn’t. I held my breath.
Jack
I need to see you. North stairwell.
First off? No. Second? How the fuck do you know which is the north stairwell? I mean, it’s not like you can actually see the sunrise in this godforsaken town. Fucking snow.
The stairwells are labeled on the map of the hotel. Haven’t you looked at yours?
I laughed. Incredulously.
Uh. No. Not to pass judgement.
Fuck off. I’m bored.
Are you kidding? The hotel television has, like, 500 stations. Including pay-per-view porn.
How do you know that?
You don’t get to be judgy.
You’re right.
Also Hairs. I left. Went to the gym until I worked myself into exhaustion. Didn’t help.
You weren’t interested?
No gay porn. If there had been, I would’ve turned it on next. In fact, I threatened to. I’m now blessedly alone.
For how long?
I rolled my eyes.
Who the fuck knows? I think they’re watching something in Saffron’s room. Porn in Russian?
Interesting choice.
Which is why I don’t trust Hairs not to return at any moment. He’s got the attention span of a goldfish.
On behalf of goldfish everywhere, I’m offended.
I waited.
Shit. That was out of line?
But totally true.
I got up and moved to the window. I gazed at the falling snow for another few seconds. The dark of night with the pink of the halogen light cast an eerie glow in the night. Then I shut the drapes.
I normally love snow. It reminds me of my mom.
Shit. Are you okay? Do you need me to come over?
Jesus. More than you’ll ever know. More than I’ll allow myself to tell you. I shouldn’t be thinking of Mom. Or maybe I should. Maybe she’ll help me stay focused on what’s important. And that wasn’t forcing Jack to his knees and having him suck my cock.
Thanks for the offer. I’m okay. And, uh, Hairs.
A long moment passed.
I’d risk it. We’d have a legitimate reason. You’re having a rough time. I’m holding your hand. We could.
No, Jack, we couldn’t. We can’t.
I considered for a long moment. What we could do. Oh, fuck it. Old school would work fine. I hit the button to call him on FaceTime.
His face filled the screen. “Is it wrong to say I wish I could give you a big hug?”
I blinked. “Don’t fucking make me cry. This is about me and what I’m going to do to you.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. But we don’t have much time. Strip. Then put your phone on the desk. Angle it so I can see the whole bed. You have earbuds?”
He nodded.
“Bluetooth?”
Another nod.
“Great. Put them in. I don’t want to be yelling.” And it had the added benefit of me literally being inside his head. No escaping me.
As he took time to get set up, I did a run to the bathroom. I pissed, washed my hands, threw cold water on my face, then brushed my teeth. So I wouldn’t have to fight Hairs for time to do those things later. Given that we were nearly at eleven o’clock, I just had no idea when he’d be back.
I slid under my covers, connected my earbuds, and snatched up my phone. To myself, I grinned. To Jack, I scowled. “Why are you not stroking yourself?”
“Because you didn’t tell me to?”
I arched an eyebrow, even though he likely couldn’t see me at this distance. “You mean you were actually obeying me?”
“Yes.” He said the word with absolute surety.
“Good boy. And you like being my good boy, right, Jack?”
“Christ, yes.”
“Did you turn up the heat in your room?” I asked the question as he shuddered.
“It’s warm. I’m hot.”
“Ah, so you’re shivering from desire, and not cold?”
“Yes.” More of a whisper.
“I like that. I never want you to be uncomfortable. Well…unless I do so on purpose.”
“Whatever you want, Sir. Just—” He rubbed his hand over his face. “I really need this, Sir. I’ve been going out of my mind.”
Aren’t we all? Fucking lake-effect snow. “Why are you going out of your mind? A little snow never—”
“Because I need you. I fucking need you. Commanding me. Dominating me. Fucking me. I need you inside my body. I need you to help me get out from inside my head. The thoughts—” He cut off.
“All about me?” Kind of flattering, but also vaguely concerning. I couldn’t be his be-all and end-all. We shouldn’t have even been doing what we were doing. Submission was fine—obsession was not.
“Yes.” He scrubbed his face again. “No.” He sighed. “I’m thinking about being stuck here and not even able to get to the rink. I’m thinking about injuries. I’m worried we’ll lose momentum. That the guys won’t be able to focus once we’re back in Abbotsford. That Vancouver will call you up—”
“Me?” We were getting off track, but I was flattered nonetheless. If I get called up to Vancouver…could we finally be together? I just didn’t know.
“Yes, you.”
I couldn’t see, but I was one-hundred percent certain he rolled his eyes. Because I know him that well. “Okay. Grab your cock at the base.” I squinted. “You’re hard, right?”
“Fuck. Oh fuck, yes.” His hand moved. He had a decent camera on his phone, but he’d forgotten to zoom, and I wasn’t going to remind him now.
“You like nipple play, right? When I squeeze them to the point of pain?”
He let out a long moan.
Fucking hell. He needs nipple clamps. Not the nice butterfly ones, either. Nope, alligator all the way. With a chain between them. I’d have to watch how long he left them on, but—
My cock stirred.
I eyed the door. Then I slid my hand down my body and under my sleep pants.
Only so I don’t come. Right. Like staving off an orgasm was what I really wanted.
“Right hand, right nipple. Squeeze. Keep stroking, southpaw. Although if you get close, I might have you switch up. Harder to come when your rhythm is faltering.”
“Ambidextrous with left hand dominating.”
“Oh really. You haven’t mentioned that before.” His labored breathing in my ear was the best fucking aphrodisiac ever. “You want me to recite French poetry? Will that derail you? Because you’re breathing awfully heavily. Don’t want you to come too soon. Hell, I might not let you come at all.”
“Please. I love your accent. I won’t understand…but would you?”
I had several to choose from. Ones I’d committed to memory. “I think you’ll like this one.” I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and sank into André Chénier.
Ainsi le jeune amant, seul, loin de ses délices,
S’assied sous un mélèze au bord des précipices,
Et là, revoit la lettre où, dans un doux ennui,
Sa belle amante pleure et ne vit que pour lui.
“Sir?” He gritted the words out—clear desperation in his voice. He’d released his nipple and was biting on his finger. All the while still stroking himself.
The temptation was to just continue to edge him. Forever, given how long snow in Buffalo would last. I held my cock firmly in my grasp. “Come, Jack. As if I were there and you were sucking my cock and I was letting you come. So do it—”
He went off like a geyser. His body stiffened, he let out a guttural moan, and then he was coming. Hard. I couldn’t see the jizz, but watching his body was a thing of beauty. As he panted. As he worked his way through the orgasm.
“You’re a good boy, Jack.” I think I might love you. I’d do anything to be with you. “Are you my good boy, Jack?”
“Yes, Sir.” He gulped air. “Thank you for letting me come.”
I chuckled. “Clean yourself up and go straight to bed. I suspect you’ll sleep tonight. Be a good boy—”
The click of the lock sounded, and then the door swooshed open. The shock was so great that I released my cock—who wasn’t particularly happy at this turn of events.
Upon meeting Hairs’s gaze, though, all thoughts of erections and happy endings fled.
He arched an eyebrow. “Who is a good boy?”
Jack’s breaths were still harsh in my ears and, of course, he couldn’t hear Hairs. “Gotta go.” I disconnected the call. “My friend. He won his hockey game tonight.”
“Your Toronto friend? I thought you said he didn’t play anymore.”
Great. Now you pay attention? Fucking brilliant. “Another friend.”
He let the door swish shut. “Oh. I didn’t realize you had more than one. Russian porn is amazing. You should see those positions. I wanted to jack off.” After giving me one very long look, he headed into the bathroom.
Panic surged in me.
Jack
Everything okay?
I didn’t answer. Instead, I powered down my phone, removed my earbuds, and turned off my bedside lamp.
Hairs was asleep long before I finally drifted off.