Twenty-Six
OWEN
Qualifying is about to begin. No, I don’t know why we’re having a qualifying round when that was essentially what the entire season was, but meh.
I’m just a player. We’re up against the Florida Manatees for this round and I’m fucking thrilled, but I also know that it’s going to take me away from Zak for quite a while.
The games are being held in Toronto this year.
Not as far as it could be, but still plenty far.
And the end is an unknown number of games away.
They start in three days.
Zak and I have been talking about it. He’s been happily busy with his schoolwork, even though I know he’s not exactly enjoying it. I hear him scoff often and if I ask, he’s happy to tell me why what he’s reading is bullshit.
He seems to have gotten better at the internet since I catch him doing research often. Reading up on a topic that he’s learning about. Educating himself on the subjects assigned to him. I can’t be prouder of him.
Zak’s appeared far more relaxed since the evening that I came home early, and his friends were here. We stayed up late talking and eating. I allowed Gravity to buy dinner, but I provided dessert.
Edgar and Gravity ended up spending the night in the guest room and going home early the next morning, but Clarinda left that night to get home to her siblings.
They’re a happy, fun bunch and I can see the way they make Zak feel good.
He’s more relaxed and happier around them. They make him laugh often.
When we went to bed that night, he was smiling so fucking wide. He told me he loved sharing that part of his life with me. How they’re the most important people to him and he’s so happy that we get along.
Honestly, they’re good kids. All of them. Gravity has a kind of free spirit vibe to him. He’s got his hands in all kinds of things, which allows him an uncommon kind of freedom within the city for someone in his early twenties.
Clarinda is the complete opposite. She, like Zak, has been forced to grow up far too quickly. Her strength shines through every time she speaks because of it.
Edgar is their wild card. He’s hilarious and maybe a little absent-minded. But he has a big heart and lots of love to give. The guys he lives with sound like they could go on tour together and make a killing.
And then there’s Zak. Quiet and content to just listen with a smile on his face. Obviously fond and comfortable and ready to jump into a conversation should he need to, but would much rather listen.
It was probably during their visit that I realized how much I already love Zak Ashland. I already knew he was my future. My gut and heart had already told me so. But I hadn’t realized just how much I loved him until then.
I’m half asleep as I once again reminisce about three nights ago. The room is dark. The only sound is from a fan in the corner to create some constant white noise. Zak is asleep next to me, tucked into my side but curled up. I can feel his warm breath brush my skin.
Sleep is right there in the distance, but getting closer. The world around me feels far off as I float, ready to sink into a happy sleep.
Then Zak shifts, grunting in his sleep, and I’m immediately pulled out of it. My eyes blink and I roll sideways to pull him into my arms. Zak whines quietly.
At first, I think he’s dreaming, but when he stretches out his body and brings it against mine, I realize his whine is for another reason entirely. My boy is hard as fuck. Had he been dreaming?
I kiss his sweaty forehead, his fingers digging into my ribs as his hips rock against my thigh. “Owen,” he whispers.
The need in his voice makes me nearly groan. Fuck, he sounds so needy. So desperate.
“What do you want, sweetheart?” I murmur, bringing my hand up his spine and around the back of his neck. He shivers under my touch.
“Please,” he whines, his hips moving against mine.
“Need to get off, sunshine? Is that what you want?”
Zak nods.
I push his underwear off and then mine before bringing him to me, taking his mouth in mine as I press our dicks together.
We both groan, the sounds mingling and harmonizing like a sweet, sexy melody.
I love the way our bodies align. Like they were made for each other.
Have I ever felt that before? That another person was made specifically for me?
“Please,” he says again.
Rolling us over so he’s under me, I reach my hands above him and under the pillows. I usually have a bottle of lube stashed there somewhere. You never know when you might wake in the middle of the night with a hard dick and need to wank it out.
His knees spread, gliding up along my hips.
My weight on him brings our hard cocks together and in a choreographed move, we grind them together.
The sensation that zaps up through my body and settles in my balls makes me moan.
My hands pause in their search as I shudder through it.
Zak’s hands move to my ass, cupping it. Using me for leverage so he can move his dick against mine.
There’s too much friction, though. It’s delicious, but we need something to smooth out the rub a little. Between breathless panting and Zak’s whiny moans zinging through my body like jolts of lightning, I continue to reach all around us for that fucking lube.
I nearly shout when my fingers wrap around it, and I drag it to me.
Wasting no time, I flick the cap and get way too much into my hand.
There’s likely going to be a puddle on the bed.
I roll us again, bringing my hand between us to smear the jelly on our joined dicks.
The sweet, sliding sensation happens almost instantly and our moans change.
Keeping my hand around our dicks, I encourage him to orchestrate our dance. Zak’s knees dig into the bed, his hands tangle in my hair, and he fucks against me with determination. I keep my hand secure around our cocks, positioning my finger to glide over our heads every time his dick juts forward.
The motion is sweet. Erotic. Dizzying.
I know the moment his orgasm surfaces. His urgent thrusts stutter, his mouth falls open. He stills for just a second, then he’s shuddering as he spills all over us. Covering me in his hot, sticky ropes of seed.
The groan that rips from my mouth can only be considered a sound from our earliest ancestors. Not quite animal, but not entirely human. Nothing intelligible. Something more primitive and instinctual. Having him paint me with his release is so fucking hot. So damn intoxicating.
Zak continues to rock on me. His mouth moves against mine again, now sloppy and wet.
I roll us and continue to frot against him.
The heat builds. I stare into his eyes, loving the way he looks at me.
How his aroused stare courses through my body.
My balls tighten and I gasp through the first pulses of my orgasm.
He shivers under me, his hand joining mine over our dicks. His touch adds more pressure, another heat. My cock twitches, and every beat releases more cum.
And then I collapse to the side, pulling Zak with me so we’re chest to chest still. Our breaths tangle. Mingle. I’m breathing him in. He shivers against me, getting closer to keep our cooling bodies warm.
“Feel better?” I ask.
Zak nods. “I miss you touching me,” he whispers.
“All you have to do is tell me what you want.”
Zak doesn’t answer. I have a feeling he doesn’t like that part of this arrangement. We’ll talk about it. But I never want him to think that him being here requires any payment, least of all from his body.
I reach around the bed for something to wipe us off. I think it’s my underwear. Or maybe his. Doesn’t matter. I lazily and not very thoroughly clean us and wrap him in my arms, then fall asleep as soon as his breathing evens out.
* * *
My plane leaves at ten tomorrow morning. I watch Zak at the counter staring into my laptop as he works on something for school while I cook us dinner. It’s a light dinner because I have something planned for this evening. Something I asked Menlo and Linden to help me arrange.
Okay, I asked Menlo. But because he and Linden live together, there was no way to keep it from Linden and the big puppy wanted to help.
Glancing at the clock, I note that there are still a few hours before it’ll be ready.
Not that we couldn’t go up early, but I want to be sure the sun is completely down and the stars are at their brightest. I’ve been watching the weather for a few days now, hoping that we’ll have a relatively clear night.
Tonight should be completely clear. Not a cloud in the sky. It’ll be cooler because of it, but there are enough heat sources that I’m not overly concerned.
I take my time with dinner as if he’s cooking with me.
He’s taken note of when I get done a lot faster without him than with him helping, so I’ve consciously slowed my fucking roll.
I don’t want him to be discouraged. There are so many things he’s self-conscious about, so I work like hell to make sure cooking isn’t one of them.
Zak closes the laptop and pushes it away. He rests his chin on his palms. “How long will you be away again?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Don’t know. It’s the qualifying series. Best out of seven. If we win four quickly, there might be a few days’ break while we wait for the other team to make it through qualifying.”
“And whoever wins qualifying goes to the championship,” he says.
I smile. “Not yet. Then there are playoffs. First and second rounds. Then the conference finals. And then the championship—Stanley Cup.”
“That’s a lot of… steps.”
Chuckling, I nod. “If it was easy, it wouldn’t be worth fighting for.”
“Have you won before?” Zak asks.
“Nope.”
“I didn’t think so.”
I look at him with a brow raised and he immediately throws his hands up, eyes going wide. “I follow a hockey guy online now! So I thought that’s what I read. He says you’re really good, by the way.”
Laughing, I turn back to the stove. “Hockey guy?”