Chapter 37
THIRTY-SEVEN
Ryan
“You know,” Connor says to me as we face each other at the dot. I can barely hear him due to the sound of their fans roaring across the stadium. “I’m glad you guys won the last two games. It would have been a shame for this to have ended so quickly.”
“Yeah,” I say, smirking. “A real shame. With any luck, we’ll be back here again for game seven. A nice little treat for your fans.”
Connor lifts his gaze and stares right at me. There’s a challenge in his eyes as well as his easy smile. “Don’t go getting too cocky, Ryan,” he says then drops his gaze back down and wins the fucking face off.
“Goddamn it,” I grumble and go chasing after him.
I keep my eyes on the puck as the Blizzards move it back and forth between them. I’m waiting for the moment when someone passes it back to him so I can either intercept it, or level Connor to the ground.
Personally, I’d rather intercept the puck. Yes, I’m all taped up and feeling pretty good, but I’m not sure if my ribs can handle another hit from Gavin Marshal. There’s only so much the body can take.
But it looks like I will get a break, because Brandon, in a bold move, has poke-checked the puck out of Tavish’s possession. I see him take a second to track where Gavin Marshal is, then make the assessment he’s far enough away from me to pass the puck through traffic onto the edge of my stick.
I’m the farthest away from everybody and able to go on the breakaway towards the Blizzards’ net. It’s a one-on-one moment. Me against Ander Bouchard while everyone else tries to catch up with me and the puck.
He gets into position and stares me down. I know I can beat him. I’ve done it before. I can do it again. Out of the corner of my eye, I see that Brandon has caught up with me; he’s way off to the side and heading towards the net, to a place Ander isn’t looking.
With Ander distracted, his eyes tracking me, fully expecting me to make the move, I fling the puck to the wall behind the net and to the right.
Brandon makes a beeline for it, gets possession of the puck, then while Ander is figuring out where it went, Brandon skates with the puck behind the net and wraps around it to slip the puck in at the post on the left side.
“Oh, you little shit!” Ander yells out when he realizes what his brother just did.
Brandon cackles as he skates past him, making his way to me for a celebratory hug. That slick little wraparound goal is going to be running on everyone’s highlight reel for the rest of the week.
“Come on,” I say to Brandon as I pat him on the head. “Let’s go get your fist bumps from the team.”
Brandon is smiling from ear to ear as we skate down the line together. It’s the happiest I’ve seen him on the ice this entire series so far. When we take our seats on the bench, he looks at me.
“We might actually be able to win this,” he says.
“Fuck right we can,” I say and nudge him with my shoulder. “Keep hitting goals like that, there’s no stopping us.”
Brandon
Unfortunately, it turns out that there was stopping us.
After my goal, my brother locked in and didn’t let another one through. Then, of course, Connor went on a run and scored twice. They took game five two goals to one.
“We’ll get them in our barn,” Ryan says when we get back to our hotel room.
The team is spending the night in Buffalo, then flying back to St. Louis first thing in the morning. Luckily, we have two full days off before game six back at home. We need it. And I definitely think Ryan’s ribs need it. Even if he played tonight like he was perfectly fine.
He probably is. But I can’t help but be worried about him. I guess we’ve found the one downfall to dating your teammate. When one of you is injured, it’s hard to turn that worry off. It’s more personal than if we weren’t something more to each other.
“I’m just glad we can get some rest,” I say, sitting down on the bed.
This is by far and away the most hockey I’ve ever played and every part of me is exhausted.
Don’t get me wrong, I love every minute of it.
But I’m used to being in the off season by now.
And I know Ryan is too, since he’s never made the playoffs before in his career.
Crazy that we get to experience this first together.
He walks up to me and loosens my tie, then slips it over my head. He lets it dangle from his wrist while he unbuttons my shirt.
“Shouldn’t I be doing this for you?” I ask.
“Why?”
“Because you’re the one who can barely lift your arms over your head right now.”
“Not true,” he says. “That tape job they give me really helps.”
“Thank God for tape, then.”
He smiles at me and huffs out a laugh. “It is a life saver right now. You’ll be amazed at everything I can still do.” He slides my suit jacket off my shoulders then pulls my dress shirt open.
“Really?” I lift an eyebrow at him. “Did the trainer tape your dick up too?”
“Fuck off.” He laughs and steps backward. As he does, he loosens his tie, then begins to unbutton his shirt. He gestures at me. “Get the rest of that off. I have some energy left to burn.”
Ryan
Normally after a loss, the last thing I’m feeling is horny.
But tonight, that is not the case. Maybe it’s all the emotions in the air, the stakes of the Stanley Cup, the fact that I think I’ve been running on pure adrenaline these entire playoffs.
Whatever it is, there’s something flowing in my veins that has me wanting a win in a far more primal way.
Or maybe, it’s just Brandon.
It’s funny, we’ve been legitimately inseparable for months now.
I’m pretty sure the only time I’m not with him is when one of us is taking a shit.
But even still, with how busy we’ve been, with all the travel, with us literally falling asleep the moment our heads hit the pillow each night, sex hasn’t been as frequent as one might think.
So, whatever, we lost. It’s fine. As long as we don’t lose the next one we still have a chance. And maybe what we need is to release some of this pent-up energy. For as exhausted as I am, my entire body feels like it’s buzzing constantly.
“Much better,” I say to him once he’s down to just his briefs.
He eyes me up and down. His eyes linger on my pants. “You’re a bit behind.”
“In a hurry, much?”
“Rich coming from you. You’re the one who started stripping me naked before the door even shut.”
I undo my belt, then the button of my pants, and zipper, letting my pants fall to the floor. I step out of where the fabric pooled at my feet and walk to him. “What can I say? I’ve been dying to get naked with you for days now.”
Brandon looks up at me from where he’s seated on the edge of the bed. He looks so tired. His eyes are heavy. He’s got a cut on his chin. His hair is too goddamn long. But he also looks sexy as hell. These last few weeks have done his body a lot of good.
Don’t get me wrong. He was already fit when he was called up.
But now, he’s packed on a few more pounds of muscle.
His pecs have become larger and defined.
His shoulders are rounder, and his arms have new bulk.
His abs. My God, do not get me started on his abs.
His midsection looks like it’s been carved into every gay man’s wet dream of a torso.
All of this, and I haven’t even touched on his stellar ass and thick, thick thighs.
“Look at you,” I say to him.
“Look at me.” His eyebrows rise. “Look at fucking you.” He smirks at me. “And for once this week I’m not talking about that big-ass bruise on your ribs.”
“Thank Christ,” I say, as I bring my hand to his chin. “I’m so sick of talking about it.”
I tip his chin up and he licks his lips. Thoroughly crowding his space, I dip down and kiss him, deep and slow. It’s been too long since we’ve done this. I want to luxuriate in it, but I fear this will be over quickly given the fact we haven’t done it since winning in Dallas.
But then again, the off season is almost here.
And once it arrives, we’ll have all the time in the world to savor each other.
To move at our own pace. To not hurry anything.
These past three months, we’ve been moving at breakneck speed.
For the first time in my life, I’m genuinely looking forward to the summer.
Looking forward to having him with me to share it with, cup win or not.
As I continue to kiss him, I lay him down on his back. Together we make our way more to the middle of the bed and pull and kick our underwear off. It’s clumsy and sloppy, and mostly limbs banging around, but it’s also so us.
Now fully nude, pressed against me, I can feel how warm Brandon’s skin is. How solid his body is. How stable, steady, and reassuring the physical presence of him is.
I can also feel how fantastically hard his dick is as it presses against mine between our bodies. That feeling alone is enough to get my already hard cock twitching with the need to be touched by either one of us.
“Where’s the lube?” Brandon asks. His voice is muffled by my neck. It vibrates through my whole body.
“In my bag,” I laugh as my hips thrust against his body, sending a jolt of pleasure through me with the way our erections glide together.
“Poor planning on your part.”
“No shit,” I say, then regrettably crawl off of him to fish the travel-sized bottle of lube out of my duffle bag.
When I get back to the bed, he’s looking up at me hungrily. There’s some desperation in his eyes which look bright blue and less full of the heavy weight of exhaustion they held minutes ago.
I pop the bottle cap open and pour a generous amount of lube into my palm, then smear it up and down my erection, giving myself a good coat. With what’s left in my hand, I rub it around his, then slot myself back between his legs so I can bring our dicks together.
His eyes close as I begin to move at a slow and steady rhythm. A small sigh escapes his lips. “Fuck, that’s good,” he says as his hips thrust to meet mine.
Yeah, it is. This right here is exactly what I needed. One of life’s simplest pleasures, when you’ve found the right person to share it with.
But as predicted, I’m not going to be able to draw this out. I can already feel my orgasm building. It’s fine. This summer there will be plenty of days to fill with long, leisurely sex. Tonight is for resetting all systems by enjoying the quick pleasure we can draw out of each other’s bodies.
I pick up my pace and grip us firmer so there’s no way we can slip apart in my hand. I can feel my orgasm building. I’m right there and I’d love for nothing more than for us to reach bliss together.
“Are you close?” I ask.
“Very,” he says, moaning.
“Me too,” I say, my voice strained as the pressure builds.
Seconds later, I feel the first spurt come from me, followed immediately by his.
I stroke us through it and look down between us as I watch us make an absolute mess of his abs that before this even started I wanted to run my tongue all over.
No better time than now. I let go of our dicks, crawl down his body, and lick him clean. He laughs through it all.
“Stop that,” he wheezes. “You’re tickling me.”
So I do and rise to get a warm towel to finish the job.