17. Kingston
They were at morning practice, and Kingston was supposed to be on the ice with the rest of the guys running drills, but that was before Riley Evans had smirked at him during Coach Sullivan’s powwow in the locker room.
Which was how Kingston ended up in one of the larger changing stalls with his pants down and Riley’s hand on his cock.
Riley. Riley. Riley.
Kingston hated that stupid name, but it didn’t stop him from moaning it when the owner of said name dragged his thumb through the pre-cum dribbling from his slit, circling it in the slow, torturous way that never failed to drive him crazy.
Kingston found an old bruise he’d left on Riley’s neck and bit down, stifling his loud cries and moans as his eyes locked onto the door.
The changing stall they had commandeered was more like a small room with a bench to sit on, a toilet, and sink included.
It made it a very convenient spot to fool around, but there were still people lurking nearby.
Teammates. Staff. Coaches. Doctors. Owners. Any of them could be standing right outside the door, unaware that there were two dumbasses behind it, touching each other’s dicks.
They could get caught. Someone could hear them, or Coach could send one of the guys to come looking for them, but Kingston didn’t give a fuck.
“You’re so hard,” Evans whispered, his breath hitching when Kingston clenched his jaw, digging his teeth in deeper. “Does the thought of someone catching us turn you on, Kingston?”
Bastard.
Kingston had told Evans not to use his name outside of their apartment, but the cocky motherfucker refused to listen.
Evans hummed, and his cum-soaked hand slid down the length of Kingston’s cock, teasing him. “What kind of dirty talk do you think guys use when they fuck? Can I say you’re wet? Because that’s what you are.”
Kingston growled around the hot skin in his mouth, cursing Riley with everything he had, wondering how the guy was awkward and clumsy with his advances everywhere but the damn bedroom.
He couldn’t talk about his feelings or ask Kingston for a kiss, but he had no problem running his mouth while he jerked him off.
And Kingston never thought he would reach the point where he was tired of handjobs, but he was.
Two weeks—two fucking weeks they had been experimenting. Kingston wasn’t complaining about the obnoxious number of orgasms he’d had, but he would like to…get off in other ways?
He had tried throwing hints at Riley that he wanted to do more, but so far, it wasn’t working.
Riley talked like he knew what he was doing, but the minute Kingston resigned himself to getting fingered or doing something else that wasn’t making out or handjobs, Riley muttered bullshit about not wanting to hurt him and brushed him off.
Kingston didn’t think it was possible to be sexually frustrated when his balls had never been emptier, but he was, and it pissed him off.
“You’re quiet,” said Evans, his warm breath tickling Kingston’s ear. “Too angry to answer, kitten?”
Kingston detached his teeth and pulled his fist back, aiming a punch for Riley’s head—that never landed.
His fist was caught, and his arm was twisted until he was forced to go with the momentum or risk injuring himself, and Kingston spat a curse as his chest was slammed onto the counter beside the sink, knocking a gasp from him.
Kingston glared at Riley’s reflection in the mirror, anger burning through him when he spotted his sexy smirk on his equally sexy face. He was dead once they were on the ice, but for now—
“Love seeing you in this position,” Riley said, using his weight to pin Kingston to the counter while his hand returned to his cock, this time stroking faster.
“Love watching your back muscles flex when you come. Love digging my thumbs into the fucking dimples above your ass. Did you know you have those?”
No, Kingston couldn’t say he’d ever checked out his own ass. Girls didn’t say much about his body other than when they were complimenting his cock and big muscles. Riley liked those, too, but he also liked to ramble about stupid shit, like his freckles, soft skin and now dimples.
“Wish you were wearing your gear,” Riley continued, unaware that Kingston was barely listening to him as his second orgasm of the day began to peak, turning him stupid. “Wanna come on your back and mop it up with your jersey. Send you to do drills while you’re drenched in me.”
Sick fucker.
Riley was a possessive guy, and his ideas to claim Kingston were becoming more and more ridiculous.
He’d lost count of how many times their teammates had teased him about the bruises covering every inch of his body, especially the bite marks on his neck.
They thought he was dating a woman with a sadism kink, and even though Evans was almost as bruised as he was, no one had put two and two together yet.
Yet.
Kingston didn’t give a fuck if they knew he and Riley were screwing because the orgasms were worth it. The chemistry on the ice was worth it, too. Why worry about what other people thought when fucking his rival solved all of his problems?
So, Kingston moaned, hips wiggling and bumping against the bulge poking him in the ass to get payback for the awful dirty talk. He didn’t want the first time he took a dick up his ass to happen in public of all places, but maybe if he frustrated Riley enough…
His scheming came to an abrupt halt when Riley switched his technique, hand pumping in earnest now as he rocked his hips while panting loudly in Kingston’s ear.
He didn’t know what it was about being pinned and licked by a man that did it for him, but Kingston was trying his best not to brood over it.
He didn’t want to think, he wanted to feel. He wanted to do something that made him happy for once, and if happiness was being dominated by a possessive, sexy man who was shit at dirty talking, then so be it.
“You’re about to come, I can feel it,” Riley said in a shaky voice. “You’re so fucking hot. We should do this before every practice. Make a tradition out of it.”
Kingston wanted to answer Riley with violence, but the asshole was right; he was close. The slick sound of skin on skin, Kingston’s muffled moans, mixed with the excited panting of the man behind him, made for a dizzying combination.
Riley was still talking, but Kingston wasn’t listening.
The next stroke pushed him over the edge, aided by the sensation of a kiss pressed to his shoulder.
Black spots danced in front of his eyes, and Kingston squeezed them shut before he could get too dizzy, legs shaking as Riley pumped him through his orgasm until he was feeling boneless and empty.
“Oops, you made a mess,” Riley said, chuckling softly before nipping Kingston’s ear. “Want me to carry you to the bench so I can clean us up?”
Kingston didn’t want to clean up. He could feel that Riley was still hard from where his cock was poking him in the ass, and that meant they had one more mess to make.
Nervous butterflies squirmed inside Kingston’s stomach, but he held his ground as he pushed off the counter and turned in Riley’s arms, glaring at his smirking face before he began to lower to his knees.
He had never sucked a dick before, but how hard could it be?
“Nope, we’re not doing that,” said Riley, placing his non-cum covered hand on Kingston’s shoulder. “I’m good. You sit while I clean, and then I’ll leave so you can have a few minutes to…reorganize yourself.”
Kingston drew in a deep breath through his nose and held it, wanting so badly to pull his hair out. He was starting to wonder if Riley was attracted to guys, or if he was attracted to the power he held over Kingston.
What kind of guy turns down a blowjob?
Riley’s expression remained firm—until he realized that Kingston was actually mad and not just grumpy.
“You’re quiet,” said Riley. “What’s wrong?”
Kingston let out the breath he’d been holding and gripped the edge of the counter behind him. “Do you want to fuck me?”
Riley’s eyes, which were brown in the red colour of the room, widened as if Kingston slapped him. His brow furrowed as he glanced down at his hand that was covered in cum, looking like a man who was lost.
“Of course I want to fuck you,” Riley said, his gaze dragging slowly up Kingston’s chest, to his mouth, and then his eyes. “Not here, but maybe when we go home—”
“Maybe?” Kingston didn’t smoke, but he needed a fucking cigarette. “We’re not dating, and there’s no relationship, so why haven’t you asked to fuck me once during the last few weeks? It’s not like there’s a reason for us to go slow.”
Riley shrugged in a way that resembled Jake, looking pouty and dejected. “I know that. Sorry if I’m nervous about hurting you since you tend to swing punches before using your words.”
Kingston wasn’t a reader, but it had taken one Google search to look up the process of gay sex and feel comfortable enough to try it. Was Riley illiterate?
“We’ve agreed that I’ll be the one taking it, so why the fuck are you panicking?
” Kingston asked, hating how his face flushed at the admission.
“All you have to do is help me with the stretching and then put your cock in me. You don’t have to do all the cleaning prep or worry about pain, so what the hell is the issue? ”
Riley tilted his head, and a strand of dark brown hair fell over his eye, tangling in his lashes.
“I’m not trying to be difficult, Kingston.
I’m not hesitating because you’re a man; I’m hesitating because it’s been a while since I’ve had sex, and I don’t want the first time I fuck you to be horrible.
The handjobs are easy and fun, but it’s hard to fuck those up. ”
Again—Riley acted like a meek little shit whenever they weren’t fucking, but this was getting ridiculous. It was just sex.
But Kingston had a backup plan, and it came in the form of a gorgeous autistic man and his pretty boyfriend.