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“Nicke, come sit,” Sasha says, nodding at the empty spot on the floor between his feet. Nicke comes obediently, sinking to his knees and only turning to actually sit down when Sasha rolls his eyes and makes circles with his hand. Nicke starts to ask what he’s doing, but before the words come all the way out, Sasha’s got his hands in the tangles mess of his curls and is massaging his head.
“Are you going to brush it for me?” Nicke asks softly, pushing up into Sasha’s hands like a spoiled kitten. Sasha smiles fondly and picks up the brush resting on the bed by his thigh.
“Only if you be good and sit still,” Nicke nods and folds his hands in his lap, settling in to let Sasha work the brush through the worst of the tears and tangles. Nicke’s content to sit there and doing exactly what Sasha told him to do until Sasha’s fingers catch and he pulls, drawing Nicke’s head back until Nicke can almost see his face. He apologises immediately, leaning down to whisper I’m sorry Solnyshko, was an accident. He kisses Nicke’s head and goes back to brushing like it’s nothing, but Nicke knows better. Nicke knows he picked the wooden brush for a reason and just the thought of it has him squirming between Sasha’s legs.
Sasha squeezes his thighs around Nicke’s shoulders in warning, telling him without words to sit still, and Nicke tries. Nicke tries so hard. But then Sasha smacks him lightly on the back of the shoulder because he wants him to move to the right and again on the side of the arm because he isn’t sitting still and Nicke can’t stay still anymore. He leans back into the v of Sasha’s legs and whimpers, pressing against his belly and looking right up into his eyes as he digs his nails into the bare skin of his thighs.
“Kolya, we have game soon. No,” Sasha says, not unkindly. Nicke whimpers again but nods and sits back up, willing himself to sit still while Sasha tugs the last of the snarls out of his hair. When he’s through, Sasha pulls him up and into his lap with a soft smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.
“After game I spank you with your brush, okay? But you have to be good until then,” Nicke groans and instinctively presses down into Sasha’s lap as he nods. Sasha groans and stills his hips with a heavy hand. Nicke leans forward until their foreheads touch and closes his eyes, whispering against Sasha’s mouth.
“We don’t play again until Monday if we win. I want to ride you when we get back, after my spanking,” Sasha’s grip on Nicke’s hips tightens and Nicke sighs, melting into Sasha’s chest.
“You spend all weekend in my clothes with my name on your back and no underwear so I can have you whenever I want. But game first,” Nicke nods, allows himself a few seconds to imagine the way Sasha’s sweats will feel against the bruised skin of his ass and drags himself to his feet.
If he spends the entirety of his warmup thinking about the low growl he knows rumbles through Sasha’s chest whenever he sees his name splashes across Nicke’s shoulders, or imagining the way Sasha’s fingers will feel in the soft fluffiness of his curls, or dreaming about the bubble bath he knows Sasha will draw for him, well, no one has to know.
When they take the ice, surrounded by blue, Nicke can feel the warm water in his bones and feel Sasha’s fingers massaging soap into his skin. It isn’t until the anthem starts that Nicke chases the last of the soft floaty feeling away. There will be time for fluffy towels and lotion on his skin later. Right now, he can hear the fans shouting over the anthem to make their presence known and he wants to win. He wants to win for them and for Sasha and for everyone who said they were out of time.
So he does.
Nicke wants to kiss Sasha in the middle of the ice when the final buzzer sounds. Wants to kiss him even more when he pulls the trophy out of the presenter’s hands and skates back to them with it. Sasha looks good. He looks proud and happy and Nicke can see how overwhelmed he is. He wants to kiss him until he stops trembling, until he knows it’s real.
But they have to get to the locker room first. Sasha might be all for making a scene and Nicke might be an exhibitionist, but there are some things better kept secret.
They make it exactly three steps inside the room before Nicke’s done waiting. He grabs Sasha by his jersey, backs himself up against the wall, and kisses Sasha until there is no air left between them. Behind them, someone whoops and lets out a shout. Someone else whistles, and someone tells them to get a room, though Nicke’s not sure who it is.
“Shut up,” Tom shouts, throwing something across the room. “They earned this and you know Papa’s been ready to go since Dad scored.” Sasha laughs but Nicke doesn’t. A flush of color breaks out over his face and spreads down into his neck. When Sasha notices he stops and arches an eyebrow. Nicke looks down at the crest on Sasha’s chest to avoid meeting his eyes and drops his voice to just more than a whisper.
“He’s not wrong, that was a beautiful goal,” and Sasha smiles with his whole face, teasing Nicke with a smugness to his voice.
“Oh, Kolya,” he says, his voice sugar-sweet, “You would have let me take you right there on the ice, wouldn’t you? So sweet, and soft, and ready. They’d have all gotten to watch. Gotten to see what a needy little thing you are.” Nicke raises his chin and looks him in the eye.
“I would have,” he concedes, holding Sasha’s gaze as it darkens to almost black. With his fingers wrapped around Sasha’s wrist, Nicke can feel his heart speed up, thrumming so fast he can’t tell one beat from the next. He means it and Sasha knows it. They make it through their media obligations just barely and this time when Sasha kisses him, he doesn’t stop. Even as the celebration goes on around them, they don’t stop. The boys studiously ignore the fact that Sasha’s hand is down Nicke’s pants and pretend they don’t hear him begging in broken Swedish against Sasha’s neck.
“Please let me cum, Sasha, please… I need to cum, I can’t…” Sasha soothes him with gentle Russian whispered against the fever-hot skin of his neck and Nicke barely has time to hide his face before he screams. It’s not a bitten-off or muffled scream like it would be if he had a pillow in his mouth. Sasha tightens his grip and makes him wait just a little longer and the second Sasha says he can, he cums all over his hand and lets out a scream that every single player in the room can hear. Nicke doesn’t expect them to cheer when he sags into Sasha’s chest and makes Sasha take all of his weight. Sasha sits them down and Nicke’s cheeks are burning when he leans in to whisper against his neck.
“You hear that, Solnyshko? They cheering for you. All for you…” Nicke wiggles in Sasha’s lap, still wearing his leg pads and barely keeping the whine out of his voice.
“I need them off,” Nicke begs, “I need out of my pads, I want more.”
“More, Kolya? But they’ll see you. Do you want them to see me bend you over?” Nicke’s still hiding his face in Sasha’s neck when answers.
“Yes, Sasha. Please, I don’t care if they see, I need it…” Sash hauls Nicke up and carries him to the showers still half dressed. Nicke likes knowing that they can see him, can hear him, but there are too many cameras—to many snapchats and Instagram stories and Facetime calls—for Sasha. No one gets pictures or videos of Nicke but him. Sasha shows them to Nicke later, the Snapchats and Instagram stories, and if you turn the volume up you can hear Nicke in the background, being fucked within an inch of his life against the shower wall. Braden even has the forethought to send Sasha—and only Sasha—a video of him picking Nicke up and carrying him away.
Nicke’s close by the time the vets gather in the doorway. They don’t pretend that it isn’t happening, instead they embrace it. Nicke can see some of them, like Braden, and can hear the others moving around. He knows they’re all there, knows they’re listening to every sound Sasha punches out of him when he pushes in. They get snaps of that too, the black screen in most cases, where all you can hear is the running water and the filthy smack off Sasha’s hips when they meet Nicke’s ass. Braden knows well enough, is trusted well enough, to film the whole thing and sends it in an encrypted email for Sasha to show Nicke when he’s snuggled into bed.
The boys aren’t passive about their observation, either, to Nicke’s embarrassment and delight. They taunt Sasha like they would on the ice, urging him faster and harder with variations on, ‘come on Alex, you can do better than that, he deserves it,’ and ‘it took you a decade, you better tear his ass up.’
Nicke’s not the only exhibitionist in the room and they know it as well as he does. Every taunt pushes Sasha faster, has him driving in harder and nailing Nicke’s prostate with precision. Sasha’s fingers are mean where they bite into his hips and Nicke’s barely clinging to the sounds of their words, vaguely aware that someone’s explaining subspace to Andre in the distance. The words cut off altogether when Nicke starts to make noise again, soft sounds falling from his lips in an incoherent string as his vision whites out and Sasha just keeps going. He screams again when he cums, Sasha’s name on his lips as he begs for him to cum. He’s crying and shaking and all he can hear is his own voice chanting over and over again, Sasha please, don’t stop.
When they finally emerge from the showers, the team cheers again, moved from their observation cluster and in various states of dress/undress as they work on getting ready to leave. Nicke’s being carried, loose and smiling and pliant in Sasha’s arms. Braden’s there when they reach Sasha’s stall, holding out a Gatorade and touching Nicke’s arm with gentle fingers to get his attention and help him drink. The room isn’t quiet when Sasha tucks Nicke into his stall, because the room is never quiet, but there’s something in the air, some reverence that makes it seem like the silence is the loudest thing in the world. Sasha looks to Holtby and asks him without words to stay with Nicke while he cleans up. Braden sits down on the floor in front of him before Sasha’s even started to turn away and talks softly to him while Sasha changes.
“Here, Nicky, open,” he coaxes, offering Nicke a piece of a protein bar from between his fingers. He’s coming back to himself slowly, but still floating in a blissed out haze as he accepts another swallow of Gatorade. Braden folds his long legs up and holds the bottle between bites so it doesn’t spill and tells him how happy Sasha looks because he knows it’ll make him smile. They talk about how well Nicke played and how excited Braden is for the next game and keep it simple so Nicke doesn’t have to think while he eats and nods along.
“It’s only Holts that can do that,” Tom’s telling Andre in the distance, “Alex trusts him. Anyone else tried to touch him or told him he was a good boy or fed him and there would be bloodshed.”
When Sasha’s dressed and Nicke’s eyes have gotten back some of their usual sharpness, Braden excuses himself, leaving Nicke to crawl into Sasha’s lap without an audience and making sure he leaves behind another Gatorade, just in case. Sasha pets Nicke’s hair and kisses his forehead.
“Should clean you up Kolya, so you can get dressed,” Nicke goes from clinging to Sasha like a favourite blanket to shaking his head against Sasha’s neck with a desperate whine and Sasha has to run his hands up and down the soft skin of his back for a few minutes to calm him down.
“What if I only clean up enough that you don’t mess up your suit and promise to mess you up again as soon as we get back to the hotel?” Sasha asks, pressing a kiss into Nicke’s temple. Nicke pulls back enough to gauge whether he’s serious and then nods. When he speaks, his voice is rough.
“Promise you will?” Sasha smiles and helps him stand.
“Of course, Kolya. You very good boy, ask so nice. I give you whatever you want.” The smile that spreads over Nicke’s face is soft and Sasha kisses him just because he can. By the time Sasha has Nicke back in his suit, he’s steady enough to stand on his own and nearly everyone else has already headed for the bus. On their way out of the arena, Nicke leans into Sasha’s side and looks up with a mischievous little smile on his face.
“Anything I want?” He asks softly, like he doesn’t believe it. Sasha nods and Nicke’s grin spreads until it takes up his whole face. “I want my spanking. And then you have to fuck me. And then I want my plug before we go to bed,” Nicke’s not whispering, not shy at all, and Sasha stumbles over his own feet. He has the forethought to stop a few feet from the bus and lean in before he answers.
“You want to keep it, don’t you Kolya? Keep all my cum inside you so you feel me when you move?”
“Put your phone on vibrate and put it under your pillow, then put these in,” Zhenya says as he passes our little packages of earplugs. Walks raises an eyebrow but TJ shakes his head.
“Don’t ask, just trust us, it’s the only way you’re going to get any sleep,” he takes the little package, tucks it into the pocket of his dress pants, and settles into his seat.
“You know at least one of them isn’t going to listen, right?” TJ says, leaning around the seat so hit Zhenya in the arm. They can see Nicke and Sasha coming, but they’re still far enough away that they won’t hear. Tom shrugs and drops like a lead balloon into his seat.
“He’ll either end up scarred or so turned on he won’t know what to do with himself. Frankly, neither are our problem. We warned them,” TJ shrugs and nods and sits back in his seat, chuckling to himself.
Outside the bus, whatever conversation Nicke and Sasha were having ends and they start walking again. Right outside the door, Nicke stops and presses Sasha up against the side of the bus for a kiss that’s bordering on filthy. He’s close enough that TJ can hear the words he presses into Sasha’s skin before he climbs onto the bus.
“I want kisses like that. I want you to make me cry and mark me so everyone knows you’re mine and I’m yours. I want to be full all night.”
“You said whatever I want, right?” Sasha nods, breathing hard into the space between them and using the elevator door behind Nicke’s back to support his weight.
“Anything you want, Solnyshko,” Sasha says earnestly, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of Nicke’s nose.
“I want you to stop talking and prove it,” he says, a playful challenge rising in his eyes. Sasha draws up to his full height and growls low in his belly. Just before the door opens, Sasha picks Nicke up and slings him over his shoulder. The players loitering in the hallway either look surprised or completely unfazed by the sight of a two hundred and twenty pound hockey played being thrown around. Most of the vets don’t even miss a beat in their conversations, looking up long enough to acknowledge what’s happening and then carrying on. Nicke claws at Sasha’s back all the way to their hotel room, tugging at Sasha’s jacket and shirt until both are out of the way and he can get his fingers on Sasha’s skin.
“In big trouble if you tear my suit, Kolya,” Sasha warns as Nicke’s hands settle on the skin of his lower back. Nicke shakes his head violently, tracing the shapes of his tattoos while he works on opening the door.
“Never, just want to touch you,” he says as the door opens and Sasha carries him to the bed. All the air rushes out of Nicke’s lungs with an ‘oof’ sound as he’s deposited on the bed and he’s making grabby hands when Sasha follows, blanketing his body in warmth.
Sasha takes his time getting Nicke back out of his suit, touches every mark left on his skin as he passes it. He sets his teeth into the bite mark on his shoulder as he pushes his shirt off of his arms and bites down until Nicke’s pulse is racing under his fingers. He presses into the bruises he left on Nicke’s hips as he strips him out of his slacks and digs his nails into his skin as he drags his boxers down. Only when Nicke’s completely naked and spread out on the bed does Sasha stop to suck a new mark into the sensitive flesh of his inner thigh, pushing his hips down into the mattress to keep him from squirming.
“Sasha, please… Didn’t ask for you to tease,” Nicke whines, reaching down to lace his fingers with Sasha’s.
“Don’t be a brat, Nicke,” Sasha says, mouth moving against Nicke’s overheated skin. He bites and sucks until he’s left marks in the shape of an ‘A’ on Nicke’s pale skin and then leans in to let his breath whisper over the head of Nicke’s cock.
“Say please for me, Kolya? Use your words and I’ll give you whatever you want,” he promises, looking up and meeting Nicke’s green eyes. The submissive part of Nicke wants to tell Sasha he’ll take whatever he wants to give him, but the other part, the part that’s desperate and needy, wants Sasha’s mouth too bad to listen.
“Please, Sasha…” he manages, digging his nails into the backs of Sasha’s hands, “I want you to suck my cock, please…” It’s broken and whiny, but it works, and Sasha swallows him down so fast he only has time to suck in a breath and shout his name. Sasha pins his hips down harder to keep him still and listens happily to the little sounds that fall from Nicke’s open mouth as he works, digging his tongue into the slit and teasing the head before he swallows him down again.
Nicke’s a mess almost immediately. He’s cursing in a jumble of every language he speaks and moaning loud enough that the boys still lingering in the hall can hear.
“You like that don’t you? You wanna cum a third time for me, Nicky?”
“Da, Sasha…” Nicke says softly, reaching down to tangle his fingers in Sasha’s hair. He expects Sasha’s mouth again, but it never comes, so he opens his eyes and looks down. Sasha’s smiling up at him and rubbing small circles into his hips with his thumb.
Sasha comes up his body so fast that Nicke has to blink owlishly at him for a few seconds and the kiss—when it comes—is enough to have him clinging to Sasha’s back, pulling him down and pressing up against him to take away all the empty space between them.
“Nicke, everyone can hear you Solnyshko,” Sasha scolds as he brings the brush down on the tender skin of Nicke’s thigh. Nicke cries out and curses and doesn’t even try to swallow the sound.
“I not counting, Nicky. What number we on?” Nicke answers in Swedish, panting and disoriented because Sasha’s hands aren’t on him anymore. Through the walls, Nicke can hear one of the rookies—he’ll remember which one is on that side eventually—and he knows that he’s got a hand wrapped around his dick just on the other side. It sends a curl of fire down Nicke’s spine to know he’s being heard, to know that he’s the reason for the high pitched whines and low curses coming through the walls. Sasha runs a blunt fingernail over the reddened skin of his ass and forcibly drags his attention back.
“What was that, Kolya? Know I’m not speak Swedish. Do I need to stop and take break until you can say in English for me?” Nicke growls low in his throat and raises his head defiantly, answering clearly in Swedish, then Russian, then English. He knows he’s toeing the line and he’s daring Sasha to do something about it. Instead of taking the bait, Sasha smacks hard over the scratch marks he left on Nicke’s ass and bites into the meat of his shoulder.
“Brat,” he sits back and Nicke hears it again, the restless shifting of the covers and the barely-muffled curses of an orgasm coming closer and closer. He pushes his ass back to get Sasha’s attention and whimpers.
“Sasha, Sasha, the rookie… Can hear him, he’s...” Sasha laughs and brings the brush down hard on the softest swell of Nicke’s ass.
“Let him listen. You so pretty, make best sounds,” Nicke listens hard to the sounds coming through the wall, drinking them in like they’re words of praise and letting them fuel the fire spreading in his belly. Nicke wants to touch, wants to wrap his hand around his dick and push into his fist every time Sasha’s blows move him forward, but he knows that isn’t allowed. He wants so badly to be good that he digs his fingers into the pillows and works so hard at staying still that his muscles shake.
Sasha spanks him until there are tears on his cheeks, running down his face and dropping against the sheets. And then, his mouth is on Nicke’s hole and he’s working him open with his fingers and Nicke feels like his whole body is on fire. Sasha pushes in just before he’s loose enough and it burns so good that Nicke’s arms give out and he buries his face in the pillows under him. It’s so easy to let Sasha take him apart, to just lay there and take it, so he does.
And when he comes untouched, Sasha follows him over the edge.
Nicke hasn’t even finished catching his breath when his plug slides in and Sasha’s plastered against his back.
“We did it, Kolya. We did it.”