17. Ben
BEN
Fraser gets three steps into my condo before he stops.
I lock the door while he peers down the hall at the two unpacked boxes in my second bedroom.
“How long have you lived here?”
“Long enough.”
He looks at the bare kitchen counter. “Did you own anything before you got traded?”
“It came furnished.”
“I can tell.”
I invited him here to suck his cock. He walks farther into the room anyway, taking in the television, the empty shelves, and the pair of running shoes beside the door.
“It’s temporary,” I say.
Fraser turns toward me. “So is a hotel. They still put lamps in those.”
“There are three lamps.”
“Those belong to the team.”
I cross the room and catch the front of his shirt. “Do you want to keep counting my furniture?”
His grin appears before I kiss him. “Depends what you invited me over for.”
I put my mouth over his.
His grin is still there, and I feel it against my mouth. I catch his jaw and kiss him harder until he opens for me.
Fraser’s hands go under my T-shirt. Mine find the hem of his hoodie. We lose each other’s mouths long enough to pull clothes over our heads, then his back hits the wall beside one of the team-issued lamps.
“Careful,” he says when it wobbles. “That’s one-third of your personal style.”
I bite his lower lip.
The joke ends in a rough sound. That’s better.
His hoodie and shirt land in the middle of my otherwise empty floor. Bare skin and dark ink take over the gray wall, and I push him harder against it.
I slide my palm over the tattoo along his ribs. Fraser shivers, then catches the back of my neck and pulls me in again. His tongue sweeps into my mouth. One of his thighs pushes between mine while he palms me through my sweatpants.
I’m already hard. He rubs the heel of his hand over the head until I thrust against him.
“Is this what you invited me over for?” he asks.
“Some of it.”
“You going to show me the rest?”
I walk him backward. The couch catches him behind the knees, but he grabs my shoulders before he falls and takes me down with him.
I land between his legs. Fraser laughs into my mouth. I want him under me on my couch while I get my hand into his jeans.
The button comes open. I drag down his zipper and push my fingers inside. His cock is hot through his underwear, the fabric damp at the head.
Fraser’s laugh cuts off.
I rub my thumb over the wet spot. “What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“You were saying something.”
He bucks into my hand. “I was asking why you’re still wearing pants.”
He shoves at the waistband of my sweats. I lift enough to let him push them down, and his hand closes around my cock before I settle over him again.
The first stroke is slow. He watches my face while he does it, mouth parted from kissing me. I hold his stare and move with his fist.
His thumb slides through the precum on the head and starts toward his mouth.
I grab his wrist before he can lick it off and suck his thumb between my lips.
Fraser goes completely still.
Then he groans and kisses me, openmouthed and wet, while I work his thumb with my tongue. His cock jumps under my hand. I squeeze through his underwear and get another groan.
I like what happens to him when I stop letting him talk.
He pulls his thumb free and shoves my shoulder. “Move.”
I don’t. “Why?”
“Because if you keep doing that, I’m going to come in my jeans like I’m sixteen.”
I squeeze him through his underwear. “That would save time.”
“Asshole.” Fraser rolls us. My shoulders hit the cushions and he follows me down, dragging his mouth along my jaw. By the time he gets between my knees, his lips are swollen and my cock is slick from his hand.
He looks up at me and licks the head.
It’s one slow pass, barely enough pressure to count. He knows exactly what he’s doing. I reach for his hair, but he pulls back before my fingers close.
“You said it would save time.”
“Nolan.”
His eyes flash, then narrow as if that will hide it.
He opens his mouth and takes me deep.
My fingers knot in his hair. Wet heat closes around me, and his tongue presses hard underneath while he sucks his way back up. He doesn’t look away. My cock slips from between his lips with a soft, obscene sound.
“Still want me to hurry?” he asks.
I push the head against his mouth.
Fraser grins and takes me again.
I hold his head where I want it and roll my hips. His lips stretch around me. Spit slips down my shaft onto his working fist, making every stroke slicker, noisier. The sight of him kneeling in front of my empty shelves with my cock in his mouth sends a hard rush through me.
With his jeans still open, his hips move against the edge of the couch every time he sucks me down, chasing pressure he isn’t getting.
I don’t want to wait my turn.
“Get up here.”
He pulls off, breathing hard. “I’m busy.”
I catch him under the arms and drag him onto the couch.
“Jesus, Pope.” He has to brace a hand against the back cushions to keep from landing on me. “Use your words.”
“Turn around.”
His mouth curves after one blink. “Oh.”
Fraser kicks his jeans and underwear the rest of the way off.
I barely have time to push my sweatpants down before he swings a leg over me facing the other direction.
His knees sink into the cushions on either side of my shoulders.
His cock hangs inches above my mouth, flushed dark at the head and shining where he leaked through his underwear.
I put both hands on his ass and pull him down.
His whole body jerks when I take him into my mouth. A curse lands hot against my cock before his lips close around me again.
Every time Fraser starts sucking in earnest, I hollow my cheeks or drag my tongue over the head and his mouth falters. When he takes me deep enough to make my thighs tense, I tighten my grip on his hips and do the same to him.
He moans around my cock. The vibration goes straight through me.
I suck him harder to make him do it again.
Another broken sound muffles against my cock, followed by the scrape of his fingers against my thigh. I take him deeper to hear it again.
I pull back to work my tongue under the head. Saliva spills over my lips and runs onto my chin. Fraser lifts his hips after me, trying to stay in my mouth while he drags his own mouth up my cock.
“Fuck,” he says against the head. “Ben.”
I take him all the way down.
His hand clamps around the base of my cock. He stops sucking, forehead pressed to my hip, and shudders above me while I hold him there. My eyes water. I don’t care. His thighs are shaking beside my head.
I let him slip from my mouth with a wet gasp.
“You stopped,” I say.
He turns his head enough to bite the inside of my thigh. “Give me a second.”
“No.”
Fraser laughs once, breathless. Then his tongue presses flat to the underside of my cock and follows it to the tip.
The laugh disappears from me.
He takes only the head and sucks hard. His fist twists below his mouth, tight and slick. I dig my fingers into his ass and take his cock again.
He jerks forward. My cock slides deeper between his lips.
Fraser sucks me in fast, greedy pulls while his hips push against my mouth. I can’t keep my hand still on him anymore. I use my fist where my lips can’t reach and taste salt every time his cock drags over my tongue.
The couch shifts under us. My heel knocks one of the remote controls to the floor. Fraser nearly slides off my chest, catches himself, and never takes his mouth off me.
That almost makes me laugh. Then he hums around the head and I can’t breathe.
“Nolan.” I pull at his hip. “I’m close.”
He only sucks harder.
My warning turns into a groan. I thrust up, once, and come into his mouth.
Fraser’s throat works around me as his body goes tight. The next pulse spills over his tongue when he makes a wrecked sound and pushes his cock deep into my mouth.
I grab him tighter and suck.
He comes with his hips in my hands. Heat hits my tongue.
Some runs from the corner of my mouth when he jerks again, but I keep him there and swallow what I can.
Above me, he loses the seal around my cock.
My come streaks his lower lip and drips onto my stomach while he breathes through the last of it.
For a few seconds neither of us moves.
Then Fraser lifts his head. “Did you just come on your own couch?”
My mouth is still around the head of his cock. I give it one last slow suck.
His arms buckle.
“Fuck.” He catches himself on my thighs. “Okay. Point made.”
I let him go. He turns carefully and crawls down my body until we’re face-to-face. His chin is wet. So are my mouth and half my chest.
He looks at the mess between us. “We’re getting disgusting at this.”
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “You’re the one who stopped sucking.”
“I was coming.” He wipes his thumb over my chin.
“Excuses.” I catch his thumb in my mouth before he can answer.
Fraser kisses me.
His tongue pushes deep, tasting himself, then drags over mine until I can taste myself too. I hold the back of his neck and keep him there. He settles half on top of me, still breathing hard, his softening cock slick against my stomach.
We kiss until neither of us has enough air. Fraser finally reaches between the cushions for his T-shirt. His hand lands in a damp spot beside my hip.
He looks at his palm. “Your couch is going to have a personality now.”
I laugh. His grin comes back, slower this time, and he bends to kiss me again.
We clean up and find our clothes. Fraser leaves his jeans on the floor and sits beside me in his boxer briefs while I turn on the game. It’s midway through the first period, tied at one.
“Who are we rooting for?” he asks.
“Nobody. We need both teams to lose.”
“That’s not how hockey works.” Fraser reaches for the remote.
“It should be.” I let him take it.
He turns up the volume. His bare thigh stays against mine. A minute later, his hand slides under the waistband of my sweatpants.
I’m soft. He holds my cock loosely while we watch a defenseman miss an easy clear. I reach into his underwear and do the same.