Chapter 9 #2
He can’t say it; he doesn’t dare, so Sander kisses him.
And Niillas answers with a pleased sound low in his throat, almost a growl, and kisses him back.
Claiming. Possessive. Demanding everything Sander has to give.
Sander opens eagerly, letting Niillas deepen the kiss until he’s dizzy with it.
And when they finally break apart, Sander feels like he’s ready to combust and collapse.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you,” Niillas says. “Watching you on the ice, in the locker room, at uni, trying not to stare—”
Sander grins, delighted.
“I’ve been staring, too,” he admits. “Constantly. Hoping I was doing it subtly.”
“You weren’t exactly subtle, Captain. But I thought you were just sizing up the competition.”
Sander shakes his head, giddy with excitement.
“I’ve been looking for a clever way to get you to notice me.”
Niillas sinks to his knees, a wicked grin on his face, and Sander’s breath catches.
“I notice you. From the first day. I’ve always noticed you.”
He presses a gentle kiss right next to Sander’s cock.
“Oh god—”
“How could I not? So gorgeous, so clever, so brave. Challenging a stállu, outwitting a creature from the old days.”
“I wasn’t brave,” Sander murmurs, leaning back against the tile. “I was terrified.”
Niillas’ hands land on his hips, positioning Sander just where he wants him.
“Bravery isn’t the absence of fear.” Niillas rests his head against Sander’s hipbone, his breath ghosting against Sander’s straining cock. “It’s doing what needs to be done despite it.”
Sander threads his fingers through Niillas’ wet hair, black like ebony, using the touch to steady himself.
“I-I had a good reason to be brave. I was afraid for you.”
Niillas’ grin widens, and Sander has the feeling that his canines look sharper than they should.
“I’m very hard to hurt.”
“Still couldn’t take the risk.”
“Fool.”
Niillas licks a broad stripe from the base of Sander’s cock to the tip, and Sander’s legs nearly buckle.
“But a brave fool who deserves a reward.”
“Reward?” Sander all but whines.
Instead of answering, Niillas licks him again, slow and sensual, his predatory gaze still fixed on Sander when he swallows him down, and all rational thought leaves Sander.
The next minutes blur in a haze of pure pleasure. The heat of Niillas’ mouth, his hands keeping Sander steady, the warm water caressing his body along with Niillas’ tongue, and just a hint of teeth.
Sander moans and squirms, his hands buried in Niillas’ hair, and Niillas hums around him, one hand slipping from Sander’s hip to cup his balls.
“I’m close,” Sander manages between incoherent moans, tugging slightly on Niillas’ hair to make him release him.
But Niillas clearly has other ideas, because he takes Sander in deeper, nose nudging against the wet curls of Sander’s pubic hair.
“Niillas—”
The feeling is delicious, all-encompassing, and as Niillas lets his hand wander further between Sander’s legs, just a hint of pressure against his hole…
Sander comes with a strangled wail, his knees finally buckling under him, but Niillas is there. One forearm on Sander’s hips, pinning him in place against the tiles, a fingertip sliding inside Sander, and Niillas sucking every last drop of cum from Sander’s twitching cock.
Sander whines in mindless pleasure, and Niillas drags the moment on for what feels like forever.
Only when Sander’s whines turn distressed from oversensitivity, Niillas retreats. His eyes are dark with lust, and he rises gracefully, giving Sander a taste of himself when he presses him more firmly against the wall and kisses him.
“You good?”
“More than good,” Sander breathes against Niillas’ lips.
Jesus, when has he ever experienced something this hot?
“I’m not done with you yet.”
Huh?
Niillas turns him around, the hard line of his cock pressing against Sander’s ass, sliding between his cheeks.
“Not going to push inside you. But I want you to hold still while I take my pleasure. Can you do that, Captain?”
“Please.”
Sander turns his head to offer to be kissed while Niillas rubs shamelessly against his ass. It feels incredible to be held in place by Niillas’ strong body, to feel his obvious arousal, and to let Niillas use his body for his pleasure. Sander can’t wait to have Niillas inside him.
“Fuck me properly next time.”
Niillas’ thrusts stutter, and then he’s coming all over Sander’s ass and lower back.
“Hell, Sander.” Niillas bites down hard on his shoulder. “You can’t just say things like that.”
“Why not?” Sander mutters, suddenly boneless and sleepy and utterly content.
“Because my bear takes you at your word.”
“Your bear…cute,” Sander slurs, drunk with pleasure and Niillas’ touch. “I’m counting on it.”
He can sense the moment the truth of his words register because Niillas relaxes, curling his whole body around Sander. They stay like this for a long time, just breathing, and Sander feels utterly and completely safe.
They wash each other with reverent touches afterward, both still overwhelmed that they’re allowed this. And when they finally emerge from the shower, Niillas wraps him in a soft towel, and holds him close some more.
Perfect.
Right.
“I didn’t know that shower sex could be a quasi-religious experience,” Sander mumbles when they’re finally back in the kitchen, and he fumbles with the coffee machine.
Niillas grins, looking him over like he wants to devour him.
“Okay, coffee and food first, and maybe then I can show you another spiritual awakening.”
Karo whines reproachfully from where he’s curled up on the rug under the table, looking perfectly at home already.
“We need to get him checked by a vet,” Niillas says, crouching down to scratch behind Karo’s ears. “Make sure he’s healthy.”
“I can make an appointment,” Sander says automatically, and Niillas only nods, not commenting on the fact that they’ve gone from allegedly hating each other to fucking and shared pet parenthood in less than 24 hours.
They settle together on the plush kitchen sofa with their breakfast, companionable and close, and Karo positions himself hopefully at their feet. Breaking off a piece of his salmon sandwich, Niillas offers it to the dog, who accepts it with delighted eagerness.
“So much for not feeding him your sandwich,” Sander teases.
“He deserves a treat. He’s been through a lot.”
Sander considers the truth of that. Karo had died, probably defending Marta from the stállu, and had been trapped between worlds for who knows how long. Now he’s here with them, solid and real and wagging his tail over bits of Niillas’ sandwich.
“Do you think Marta is really gone?” The question slips out before Sander can stop it.
Niillas is quiet for a moment, his expression thoughtful.
“I think the veil was thin enough for Karo to slip from whichever place he was trapped in. Maybe Marta was able to leave, too. I felt her essence unravel under my claws after all.”
“I hope she found peace,” Sander says, suddenly sad.
“She tried to kill you.”
Niillas doesn’t seem inclined to forgive her anytime soon.
“She was scared and alone and desperate. I can’t hate her for that.”
Throwing an arm over Sander’s shoulder, Niillas pulls him closer.
“Your compassion is going to get you into trouble.”
“Already has, apparently.”
Niillas huffs the same annoyed sound he makes as a bear, and Sander chuckles.
“This ends now,” Niillas grumbles, taking a huge bite of his sandwich and surrendering the rest of it to Karo.
They eat in comfortable silence for a while, and Sander marvels at how easy this feels. No pressure to fill every moment with conversation, no need to perform or lay on the charm. Just being.
Once they’re sufficiently stuffed with cinnamon buns, Sander gets up and pulls Niillas to the living room, Karo trailing at their heels.
Sander’s exhaustion is suddenly catching up with him, the adrenaline of last night and the exhilaration of Niillas’ proximity finally giving way to a bone-deep tiredness.
He collapses onto the couch, pulling Niillas with him.
“How about we stay here till practice tonight?”
Niillas arranges Sander comfortably in his arms, pulling a wool blanket over them both.
“Not sure yet if I’m letting you practice today.”
The statement has heat gathering low in Sander’s belly, but he’s currently too tired to act on it, snuggling closer to Niillas instead.
“You want to watch something while falling asleep?” Niillas asks.
Sander puts The Breakfast Club on TV, his eyes already drooping, and Karo jumps onto the couch, curling into a ball at their feet. The rightness of it all overwhelms Sander.
“Sleep, I’m right here,” Niillas mumbles against his hair, and Sander finally surrenders to exhaustion. The last thing he registers is Niillas pressing a kiss to the top of his head and murmuring something in a language Sander doesn’t understand.
It sounds like a promise.