wish I could blow u under the table
Connor gets the text message at their team dinner back home after their successful road trip—most recently, a win (and 4-point performance by Connor) over Ottawa—at a fancy steakhouse with an indoor koi pond next to the bar. It’s definitely fancy, and definitely not a place where Connor should be getting—or answering—any sexts. His phone is on 12%—but that’s besides the point.
Ryan doesn’t look up at Connor’s sharp inhale, smiling a bit at something Drai is saying. Connor purses his lips and tries to keep his mind clear, but it’s Ryan, and he’s happily flushed with a few glasses of wine and perfectly cooked steak, looking too sweet and too good and too perfect for Connor’s current mindset.
fuck, me too
i’d do it if Drai wasn’t telling me about his fav meal from home. can’t pass that convo up
if u score tmrw i’ll give u a special surprise after ;)
mm u don’t have to bribe me to get me in ur bed
it’s not bribery, it’s a promise
but just imagine me on my knees as u eat ;)
And because Ryan himself put that image in Connor’s head, it sticks like glue, and with Connor’s imagination—
Well. Ryan is far less innocent than he looks, so it’s not the first time he’s been sexted at the dinner table.
Connor’s not sure if that’s something to be proud of or not.
fuck u omg
have fun w that XP
Connor looks up from his dim phone and glares, trying to resist adjusting his belt as Ryan carefully avoids his gaze.
fuck u so hard
Connor watches as Ryan glances down, bites his lip hard, and tucks his phone in his pocket for the rest of the meal. Connor smirks to himself and feels just a bit more satisfied.
* * *
"Do it," Connor says the moment they get inside his apartment. "Do it, oh my god."
"Desperate," is all Ryan says, dropping to his knees right there by the front door. Connor watches as deft fingers undo his belt and zipper, tugging down his dress pants and boxers to mid-thigh. His stomach is in his throat, body prickling with warmth and desire and need—
Connor is so glad they skipped out on celebratory drinks.
Ryan hums as he wraps his lips around the head of Connor’s dick, hand holding it in place as he sucks hard. Connor’s hands scrabble at the wall behind him, breath hitching in his throat when Ryan grips one of Connor’s thighs with his free hand to keep him still.
"Ry—" Connor gasps as Ryan leans forward, takes more into his mouth. Ryan looks up at him through his eyelashes—it’s a signature cliche move, but it gets Connor weak every time—and hums again, grabbing Connor’s hand and bringing it to his head.
Ryan lets his eyes close slowly as Connor tightly grips the strands of hair Ryan’s been letting grow—Connor thinks it’s for this specific reason; Ryan has always liked his hair pulled. He bobs his head slowly, hand squeezing at the base of Connor’s dick every now and again to change it up; fast, then slow, then another slow buildup to fast, and slow once more.
Connor groans when Ryan slows down yet again, squirming in place against the wall. "Come on, Ry," he whines shamelessly, and Ryan pulls off enough to say, voice the slightest bit scratchy,
The mix of heat and tight wet pressure is enough to bring Connor to the edge quicker than—well, he’s always fast, but it’s not his fault he’s desperate. Ryan was sending him a complete fucking offer at the dinner table; and egging Connor on, too. He’s been hard for a whole fucking hour.
Ryan moans around Connor’s cock when Connor runs his fingers through Ryan’s soft hair, tongue hungrily sliding up and down the shaft before he mouths at the head and goes down again, dangerously close to deepthroating.
Connor is going to die.
"Gonna kill me, fuck," Connor breathes, pulling Ryan’s hair harder with both hands as Ryan decides to go for broke, grabbing Connor’s hips and sinking all the way down on his cock. Apparently Ryan doesn’t think it’s dangerous.
Connor moans as he feels Ryan’s mouth tighten around him, the head of his dick bumping the back of Ryan’s throat. Ryan doesn’t choke, and that might just be the hottest thing Connor’s ever seen as he chances a look down. Ryan’s eyes are squeezed shut, dark eyelashes damp and hair a mess from Connor’s fingers, and red mouth spread so, so wide around Connor, taking him so deep and good.
Connor reaches down with one shaky hand to trace the shape of himself on Ryan’s cheek as he swallows, then again, and one more time.
"Fuck fuck fuck—" Connor can’t say more than that, other than moaning Ryan’s name embarrassingly loud as he comes in the delicious warmth of Ryan’s talented mouth. Ryan takes it perfectly, like always, swallowing everything like he was made to be between Connor’s legs. He pulls back and sucks lightly at the tip until Connor squirms away and pants, "fuck, too much, too much".
Connor slumps against the wall, staring at the opposite one with a blank stare as he tries to find his regular heartbeat. There’s a soft groan from below him, and he looks down to see Ryan still on his knees, hand down the front of his pants.
"Up," Connor says, and Ryan looks up with a desperate look in his dark eyes. "I wanna—"
Ryan immediately jumps up, pressing Connor into the wall and kissing him hard. Connor tastes red wine and just a tang of salt, trailing his fingers down Ryan’s arm until his hand is wrapped around Ryan’s on his dick.
Ryan pants out soft curses onto Connor’s lips, jerking him off together until he comes with a breathy cry, Connor’s name in his mouth and Connor’s tongue in his mouth as he comes down.
Ryan doesn’t exactly place all his weight in Connor’s arms when he comes to, but he definitely loses all the tension and stress he’d been carrying. Connor is about to chirp him when Ryan mumbles, "I scored too. Wanna eat me out?" and the teasing jab dies in his throat.
Connor is definitely charging his phone up all the way before the next team dinner.
* * *
"Holy shit, Davo," Jesse grins, accent thicker than usual as Connor sips on the fanciest thing on the drink menu, courtesy of Nursey. "Holy fucking shit, you so good."
"Mm, yeah," Connor says, smiling at him while his mind drifts to things more...interesting. No offense, Pulju, but thinking about Ryan’s texts is just a bit more satisfying.
since u get all the reward tonite, i’ll b at ur place when u get back
u gave me an extra key, txt me when ur almost home
can’t wait ;)
"Dude, you alive?" Nursey thumps him on the best and revives him from his Ryan-induced haze, but Connor only shakes him off.
"Did you get learn about that thing called personal space?" He chirps, but Nursey just laughs.
"Nah, never heard of it," he grins, and Jesse laughs along, scooting a little closer as Nursey presses his cheek to the side of Connor’s hair, yelling in his ear about why Ryan went home early. "Know anything about that, Davo?"
Connor would flush deep red if he wasn’t already flushed from the alcohol and heat of the room, mind drifting to what Ryan might look like when he opens his bedroom door.
Maybe he’s stripped down to nothing, stretched out casually like he’s got no better place to be. Or maybe he’s wearing Connor’s jersey, jacking himself off slowly, edging himself until Connor arrives. Or maybe he’s on his hands and knees, three slick fingers inside himself—they’ve never done that, but Connor thinks he’d like to try.
"Someone’s out of it," Kass laughs as he walks by Connor to get to Looch, who’s engaged in a conversation with Larsson about trades. Connor bites his lip and finishes off his drink before he slides off the bar stool.
"Ditching us already, Cap?" Nursey asks loudly, still half-hanging on him.
"I just have to...make an important call," Connor tells them lamely, waving as he hurries out into the chilly air.
His Uber can’t get here any faster.
b there in under 15
* * *
Whatever it was that Connor had thought up, Ryan completely shatters his expectations.
He’s stretched out on the bed in tight black briefs, legs crossed at the ankle as he stares down at his phone. There’s a sleep mask on the table next to him, along with a new bottle of lube and a strip of condoms. Besides a lamp and an open tissue, the table is clean.
"You—hi," Connor says, mouth suddenly dry as he shuts the door behind himself and shrugs his jacket off onto a chair.
"Hi." Ryan sets aside his phone and watches as Connor unties his tie, tosses it aside, and crawls onto the bed to meet Ryan in the middle. Ryan’s arms naturally come up to wrap aroun Connor’s neck, lips meeting smoothly yet desperately, wet and deep with the tiny perfect tinge of restraint.
"You should take these off," Connor murmurs when he takes a breath, hand palming at the front of Ryan’s briefs. Ryan inhales, shifts his hips, and undoes the first button on Connor’s shirt.
"Fix this, then we’ll talk," Ryan answers breathlessly, and Connor doesn’t think he’s been able to strip faster.
When he finally pushes his boxers to the floor, Ryan lets out a soft groan of approval and kicks off his own, dropping them off the side of the bed. Connor leans down again to kiss Ryan, the slide of their hard cocks together making them both hiss.
"You—fuck, babe," Connor hisses, reaching down. Ryan smacks his hand away and kisses him hard, tongue pushing past Connor’s lips as he puts everything into it.
"I wanna show you," Ryan tells him between gasps for breath as Connor bites his way down Ryan’s neck, leaving little marks that will only last till the morning. "I wanna show you something."
"Anything, babe, you can show me anything." Connor punctuates his words with a sharp suck at the base of Ryan’s neck, pulling up to look him in the eyes.
Ryan pushes him off, directing Connor to lay on his back while he arranges himself over Connor’s hips. "You wanna—" Connor’s next words never come out as Ryan reaches behind himself and pulls out a small black plug, which—holy fuck, Connor did not know he was into that. A whole new world just opened up, and he is so fucking ready to explore it (no pun intended).
"You should fuck me," Ryan says almost conversationally, crawling over to the table. He sets the plug on the napkin, handing Connor the bottle of lube and a condom as Connor gapes through a wave of intense arousal.
"Like this?" He manages to get out. Ryan only smiles, a soft little thing as he takes the lube right back out of Connor’s still hand and pours a little into his own. The tube is forgotten as Ryan jacks Connor’s cock, rolling on the condom and adjusting his position over it as he sinks down onto the thickness.
Through the burst of wild pleasure and heat, Connor sees Ryan slide the sleep mask over his own eyes, hands propped on Connor’s chest. His fingers spread wide as he slowly rises up, a moan escaping his chest when Connor tightly grasps onto his hips to steady him.
"Yeah, babe, fuck," is all Connor can say as Ryan soon switches from bouncing to rocking, grinding Connor’s dick deep inside. The swivel of his hips has always mesmerized Connor, but this is otherworldly. If he dies right here, right now, with Ryan riding him to heaven and back, he’d be 100% fucking okay with it.
"Just—" Ryan spreads his knees farther apart as he rises up, letting out a high-pitched moan when he settles back down. "There, fuck, yeah," he murmurs over and over, sitting up and rocking down into Connor, over and over and over again.
Connor’s never seen anything better than a red-cheeked, open-mouthed, loud and desperate Ryan fucking himself down on Connor, and he probably never will—not until Ryan raises the Cup above his head and Connor is allowed to kiss him on center ice. But until then—this is perfect.
"Oh my god," Connor moans as Ryan’s hands slide higher up, palms rubbing over his nipples. "God, yes, wanna come."
"Yeah?" Ryan’s voice comes out as a whine, dimples prominent as his face scrunches up. "You wanna come, Connor? This gets you off?"
Connor only groans in reply, and as Ryan reaches for his own dick, Connor slides his hands down to squeeze Ryan’s ass. Ryan clenches down as he strips his dick with a sweaty palm, thighs flexing with every move up and down, and that’s it.
Connor fucks up Ryan’s rhythm as he holds tight and pushes up into Ryan’s tight, gorgeous ass, coming about two strokes before Ryan does, all over his hand and Connor’s abs. He couldn’t care less about the mess as Ryan rubs it into his skin, still instinctively rocking forward and backward a bit, Connor’s dazed eyes focused on Ryan’s mouth.
"I’m lucky," Ryan says, voice deep and throaty from his groans as he strips off the sleep mask. Connor doesn’t answer, and Ryan rolls off him, taking off the condom and tossing it onto the tissue. "I just—you know? I’m lucky." He flops on his back and sighs, throwing an arm over his face.
"I’m just luckier, I guess," Connor grins up at the ceiling, eyes sliding shut as he reaches over to lace his fingers with Ryan’s. "So fucking lucky."
He looks over to see Ryan crack another smile, his dimples big and bright. "The best." Connor smiles back and squeezes his hand once, silently saying Love you, and Ryan squeezes it right back as if to say Love you more.
The crazy thing is, Connor really believes it.
* * *