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Fortune Says

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2008-2009 Season


Patrick rolled his eyes as Erica showed him yet another prom dress he did not approve of. Since her boyfriend was a senior, Erica (far too young for Patrick's peace of mind) got to go to their high school senior prom as his date.


"Literally Erica, show me another dress with a slit that high and I'm hanging up."


"Patrick, seriously, you act like you're not a 19 year old boy. Long sleeves is NOT a thing for prom." She huffed and swung her hair out of the way. "Don't you have, like, a teammate that can give me their unbiased opinion?"


"Fuck no." Patrick answered, eyes cutting over to Captain Serious.   Jonny was blaring some sort of Canadian pop music so loud that Patrick could hear it through his expensive DJ looking headphones. Patrick was not leaving the room to make his phone calls, that was stupid. Jonny's roadie rituals were so freaking annoying. Completely silent visual exercises? Ugh.


"Whatever." Erica said, closing the magazine and dropping it somewhere out of view of her skype camera. "You suck. And now, instead of getting a say, you're going to have to deal with anything I pick."


Patrick stuck out his tongue and Erica, crass little shit, flipped him off.


"Alright, mom will kill me if I don’t help her with dinner, again. Love you!"


"Love you too." Patrick watched, oddly homesick as she waved goodbye and turned off the connection.


Patrick sighed. This would normally be the time, on a roadie, when he would turn to his roommate and try and figure out what they were gonna do to entertain themselves. Even stupid shit like playing cards or trying to co-announce a hockey game on mute. But... it was Jonny….. so, definitely not happening.


Patrick didn't know what he had been expecting when it came to Jonathan Toews. He knew his hockey was sick, he was a good ole Canadian boy and that his last name was pronounced weird. He certainly hadn’t known if he'd like the dude, but he wasn't expecting to hate his guts.


Being roommates at home and the road and being lineys on top of that didn't help. Literally, they were so in each other's space it was suffocating. Off the ice, they were constantly at each other's throats, chirping in the locker room a little too shy of mean. The older guys told them to play nice and not be so competitive. "Same team boys." Sharpy kept reminding them.


But really, Jonathan was an uptight, closed lipped, asshole that thought he was Patrick's coach or something. The dude constantly tried to redirect his play, asserting a control that he never earned. Seriously, Patrick was the number one draft pick, he scored goals like other people popped tic-tacs, so shoot him if he wasn't a little more humble and a little less ticked off by Jonathan's constant critiques.


And now, sitting in the bed just beside him in Boston made Patrick all the more irritated. A part of him wanted to wander down the halls to some of the other guys' rooms like he had in the past but a part of him also wanted to do something more low-key.


Frustrated, Patrick ran his hand through his curls. His options were limited.


"I'm using the shower, you need the bathroom?"


Captain Serious flicked his eyes to the bathroom door and looked at Patrick like he knew exactly why he would be in there. "No."


No. Not, nah man or, go ahead dude...just no. Asshole.


Patrick took some deep breaths as he undressed. He let the shower run for a bit to warm up. While waiting, he tried to stir up a good fantasy. Patrick, unknown to basically all the guys on the Blackhawks, was into girls and guys. For the most part, he preferred women, pretty brunettes, athletic, with nice tits. But, every now and then, he wanted to scratch another itch.


In his other hockey leagues he knew the bros who were down to swap handies or blowies, and even some guys that let Patrick stick it in. But a rookie in the NHL was no place for Patrick to be testing the waters, see who might be a bro on the down-low. Instead, Patrick thought about that actor Jessica was obsessed with, gorgeous dark skin, tight body, always playing the lead in sick action movies. Yeah, that would do fine.


Just as Patrick felt ready to step in the shower, he realized he forgot his shaving kit in his luggage. He slung a towel over his hips and opened the bathroom door. He was not prepared for what he saw on the other side.


Jonny was leaning over the edge of the bed, away from Patrick, rummaging through his bag for something. His laptop had shifted slightly in his lap, angling it toward Patrick.


And well, it definitely wasn't netflix...


It was porn. And not just any porn, gay porn (and bad gay porn!). Patrick squinted, jock gets edged by coach. Ewwww.


But also... shit.


It happened in a second--Jonny's head whipped around and he pulled his laptop tightly back into place. "What the fuck, Kaner!" He growled. But Patrick could see how his tan skin flushed and his eyes skirted away.


Patrick had a few choices. He could throw Jonny a weird look and ask him what got his panties in a twist and generally pretend he didn't see anything. He could ignore it flat out and just grab his shaving kit and get on with his life. Or....


"Edging, huh?" Patrick cocked his hip into the frame of the bathroom door.


"Shut the fuck up dude." Jonny spit defensively.


Patrick wasn't buying. They were both rookies, in each others space nearly 100% of the time. Jonny would be a very convenient male hook-up, even if Patrick hated his guts. "Dude, you may not want to hear this, but that page looked amateur as fuck. You want the good stuff, look up Dr. Cumcontrol."


Jonny blinked up at him owlishly, mouth parting and then shutting again, "What--"


"Seriously, bro, way better." Patrick winked. He readjusted himself over his towel and closed the bathroom door. He didn't want to freak Jonny out, he seemed like the type that would lock his dick up forever if he thought Patrick was in any way fucking with him.


Patrick's smile spread wider at the thought of Jonny hesitantly googling Dr.Cumcontrol, finding the (much better) videos that were there and reaching down to cup his cock. Yeah, yeah, Patrick stepped in the shower and mirrored with his own dick what he thought Jonny might do with his. Slow, if the dude was into edging, teasing. Patrick was (and maybe would always be) in the hard and fast category. But taking it slow, building it up, that was good too.


He rubbed his thumb just under the head, shivering when he remembered that Jonny’s cock was uncut. He would totally pinch that shit, make it hurt a little, before sliding it down to reveal the sensitive head. His hand sped up on its own accord, muscle memory thinking this was going to be a run-of-the-mill wank. He pulled off when he got too close--hand scratching against the hotel tile. "Fuck." He moaned. Jonny, despite his annoying personality, would look so hot, needy and turned on while he got edged. His abs would flex and he'd probably get that vein in his neck from being tight all over.


Patrick tried to last, he really did. But after 10 minutes he gave up and groaned his way through a rough hand job that felt like it took the life out of him by the time he was coming over his fist and down the drain. Shit.


Patrick stayed in the bathroom for another ten minutes, but let the shower run. He toweled off and brushed his teeth and checked if any of the pimples along his jaw, where his chin strap sat, needed to be treated with toothpaste. He hadn’t got his shaving kit after all so he sorta just loitered in the bathroom, wanting to give Jonny ample privacy. When he deemed that he had given Jonny enough time, he shut the shower off by way of warning, and flushed the toilet for good measure, and turned on and off the sink faucet before opening the bathroom door.


Jonny was in bed, laptop away, headphones off, lights off. Punk.


Patrick didn't try and stay quiet while he changed into sweats, even turning on the lamp on his bedside table so that Jonny had to really act if he was going to continue pretending he was sleeping.


"So," Patrick started, once he was settled down into his bed, "how'd you like it?"


Jonny kept his back turned, stubbornly refusing to answer.


"Bro, I can tell you're not sleeping. You have like, a light snore when you are. Come on, did you like it?"


Jonny grunted and sat up, eyes gloriously pissed, "What the fuck do you care, Kaner? Like why, what, what the fuck are you trying to do here?"


Patrick shrugged one shoulder, "Just trying to help a bro out man."


Jonny narrowed his eyes, scanning over Patrick's face like he could detect any deception or ulterior motives. Patrick sighed and turned on his side, hand coming up to support his head. "Look, every now and then I like to hook-up with guys. I'm not trying to like, blackmail you, I'm just trying to subtly let you know I'd be down once and a while but you're too fucking uptight to take the hint, clearly."


Being suddenly reminded why Jonny annoyed him so much, Patrick flopped onto his back. He literally never had to work this hard at a hook-up. Sometimes a dude from another team would just look at him and next thing Patrick knew he was getting blown by a Swedish enforcer in the equipment closet.


"You, uh, hook up with guys?" Jonny asked, voice small like a kid.


Patrick glanced over, "Yeah. Guys aren't my main dish, but I get a craving for it every once and a while." Patrick rearranged his pillows, "What about you bro, are you like way closeted or just bi?"


"Uh." Jonny blushed, again, and looked over his covered thighs like they held the answer to all life's questions. "I have sex with girls."


Which, was not an answer.


Patrick looked at Jonny closely, the tight set of his shoulders, the pinching between his eyebrows. Oh, OHHH. Jonny was maybe very closeted. Like maybe he had never even touched another dude’s dick. Patrick really wasn't trying to be some dude's counselor. Especially not for an asshole like Jonny. But then Patrick thought back to how Jonny never seemed to have any fun, how he got all tense and moody when Patrick tried to pat his back or hip check him or share his beer, how he fluctuated between blank face serious to hulk angry over seemingly nothing. How that one time, after Jonny's first goal in his first game in the NHL, some of the boys had taken them out and elbow jabbed Jonny saying he should pick-up and Jonny sorta just sighed, drained the rest of his beer and said "yeah okay" like he was going to walk the Green Mile. Yeah, if Patrick was that sexually frustrated, maybe he'd be a raging asshole too.


"Okay... but like, you'd prefer guys?" Patrick tried.


Jonny didn't look at him, "No. Yes. Whatever, I'm not having this conversation with you of all people." He turned his back and curled into himself a little.


"Whatever bro." Patrick was just trying to help, jeez. Instead of letting his anger flare out though, Patrick clamped it down and willed himself to say, "So, if you ever want to trade handies or blowies just let me know dude. It's cool if you're not into it, but just thought I'd offer." And left it at that.





They didn't talk about it, at all, for two weeks. They didn't fight as much though. Sometimes, Patrick would want to chew Jonny's head off, but he'd stop himself, skate away. His tolerance for Jonny had improved, even if Jonny's mood hadn't really.


Patrick was certainly a locker room favorite, he knew that, could tell with how the boys joked and chirped and generally bro-loved on him. Maybe Jonny thought he couldn't have that, being gay and shit. So Patrick turned up the flirt, made references to real men knowing where the prostate was, and generally tried to make the locker room a little more gay-friendly.


"Yo peekaboo!" Seabs shouted one day between periods. "That number 52 looks like he'd suck your cock if you let him." Seabs was laughing fondly, probably making reference to how number 52 kept muttering "damn" under his breath when Patrick would execute a sick deke on him.


"You think he'd be any good?" Patrick answered.


Seabs chuckled, "From the way he skates, probably spends a lot of time on his knees."


Patrick nodded genuinely, "Thanks for the heads up bro, always looking out."


Seabs started to laugh but then kinda stopped himself, "Oh shit peeks, you into that shit?"


"Don't get any ideas old man, you couldn't keep up with this." Patrick smiled, full and easy. He totally understood he had the luxury of dating girls and enjoying it, unlike some people. He didn't care if the boys were a little suspicious, if he let them see being gay or hooking up with dudes didn't wig him out.


Nobody made a big deal of it, just kinda smirked or chuckled or rolled their eyes. But Jonny looked like he was going to drop gloves and punch someone out. Patrick shook his head, he really couldn't win with the dude, like ever.


The third period was a little scrappy and very dirty. The refs weren't calling much all game so the Red Wings knew they could try underhanded moves to trip them up. But Patrick wasn't worried, him and Jonny scored one each in the final period, bringing the score up to 5-2.


Patrick wanted to go out, make the older guys sneak him in somewhere so he could dance and pick-up. But, they were on back-to-backs and there was no way the captains, let alone Captain Serious were gonna be down. Patrick pouted his way back to the hotel.


When they trudged into their room, Patrick sort-of face planted onto his bed. He really needed to consider pacing himself, not going so hard during a game they were already winning. Like, Patrick wanted to be a contender for the Calder one day, but he needed to bring it back a little.


He groaned and sat up, intending to get one of his icy/hot patches for his knee. But, Jonny was kinda shuffling by the TV, hands in his sweats and mouth pursed.


"You good, bro?" Patrick tried, totally not in the headspace to play 'what is Jonny thinking.'


"Would you really hook up with Ericsson?"


Ericsson? Patrick cocked his head, confused.


Jonny's eyes went flat. "Number 52."


"Oh. Yeah I would, if he swung that way." Patrick stretched out his knee, maybe he needed to spend more time in cool down.


"You don't think he does?" Jonny tried to appear more casual by leaning against the desk/ console thing but Patrick could tell how nervous he was.


"Nah." Patrick caught the strap of his bag with his fingertips and pulled it over. “He was just being a good sportsman, like how any us would be with Crosby.”


Jonny nodded but still looked confused, “But if he did, swing that way, you would?”


Patrick sighed and looked up from his rummaging. Jonny’s mouth was still twisted up and he looked so fucking lost, Patrick took pity on him. “Yeah, I’ve done it in the past. Like, not in the NHL but when I was with the Knights and on my other teams. Its not that hard to keep it on the down-low."


Jonny kept silent nodding and looking down at the carpet and generally being awkward as fuck. Two weeks ago, Patrick had sworn to leave it alone, not make Jonny feel pressured to confront his homosexuality. But, sitting on the bed, watching him struggle, Patrick made one last pass. "What? You thinking you're interested now?"


Jonny's back straightened and his jaw clenched. But he didn't look away and he didn't tell Patrick to fuck off.




Patrick stood up and closed the space between them. Jonny watched him closely, but didn't move from leaning against the desk and didn't uncross his arms (bare arms, Patrick might add, over his bare chest). "Not gonna say I'm a bonafide pornstar, but I know my way around a guy's dick. I'd make it good for you Tazer, take it slow, tease you, suck it real good."


Jonny's eyes couldn't focus on one place on Patrick's face. They kept jumping from his eyes, to his mouth, to somewhere along his jaw. He swallowed, and then exhaled. "Yeah, okay."


Patrick could feel his eyebrows shoot up. There was a large part of him that thought none of that was going to work. A cocky grin split his face, showing all his teeth, "Yeah?, Seriously?"


Jonny rolled his eyes, annoyed. "Yeah. seriously." He mimicked.  He pushed passed Patrick and sat on his bed. Pissy and haughty. But then, when he sat down, that lost look came back, "So how are we doing this?"


Patrick was so giddy he couldn't even play it cool. Personality aside, Jonny was a fiiineee piece of ass. Literally, his ass was amazing. And Patrick had snuck a peek, his dick was pretty too. "You just sit back and try not to come too fast. I'll blow your dick and your mind."


"You're so fucking..." He didn't finish the sentence, just moodily shucked off his pants and grumped back down, looking like he was all inconvenienced or something.


Patrick flipped the top lock on the door, knowing from experience it was better to do so. He then stripped out of his tracksuit, undershirt, socks. He debated weather to just pull his cock out over his boxers, but decided to take those off too. Jonny watched him the whole time, tight and anxious. He wasn't even half hard.


Patrick sunk to his knees between Jonny's slightly parted legs. That earned him a surprised expression from Jonny at least, then ever so slightly, his mouth parted with want, legs opening ever so much. Patrick rubbed at Jonny's gorgeous fucking thighs, kneading the thick muscle willing them to loosen.


"Wait." Jonny instructed. And Patrick looked up from his deep study of Jonny's hardening dick. Oh. Jonny's aroused face was Patrick really hoped he wasn't punking out. "Here." Jonny passed him a pillow.


Patrick nodded gratefully, "Good looks, bro." He tucked the pillow under his knees and focused his attention on the thick piece of uncut meat in front of him.


He tried to think of how Jonny would want it, how he would have imagined it. But that took too much brain power and Patrick was pretty sure Jonny had never gotton a blow-job from a guy so... Patrick was gonna be the baseline. Better to use tricks he was good at than try and get unsuccessfully creative.


First, he licked a stripe from the base of Jonny's dick to the tip. Jonny groaned like he had been punched in the gut. When Patrick looked up, Jonny was already panting, eyes filled with so much pent up desire it was hard to look it. Patrick continued, a few more licks, light, teasing, base to tip. He gently pulled back the skin around the head, getting turned on by Jonny’s sensitive hisses. When the pretty tip was free, Patrick flicked his tongue in and out of Jonny's slit until his hips pumped up uncontrollably and he muttered "sorry, sorry" under his breath.


After a few more exploratory swipes of the tongue and open mouth kisses, Patrick turned his attention to Jonny's heavy balls, lapping at those too. He even cupped them, rolled them, and dragged his finger down the sweet spot that felt like being stroked from the outside.


"Shit, Kaner, you gonna suck it?" Jonny asked above him, voice wrecked and needy already.


Patrick smiled up at him, making eye contact and keeping it. He held Jonny's pretty dick with one hand and guided the head into his mouth. He sucked firmly on the head for a few seconds, lavished in Jonny's broken gasp, and then kept stuffing his mouth with Jonny's cock until it hit the back of his throat. He did that a few times, in and out, sucking, swiping his tongue, all slow and measured.


Jonny cursed in French and shoved a fist into his mouth.


Patrick pulled off. "I'm gonna get you in my throat, but don't fucking choke me, alright?"


"No, no, I wouldn't."


Polite, weird ass Canadian boy. Patrick popped him back in his mouth and then took a deep breath and lowered his head until Jonny's cock went to the back of his throat and down. Patrick felt his eyes water, his throat constrict. He pulled off with a gasp, sucking in breaths. When he peered up at Jonny, he looked amazed, dazed out.


"Again?" Patrick asked, voice already hoarse as fuck.


Jonny blinked, "Yeah, fuck, yes, but..." Jonny bit his lip. "Can I touch you? Like your head, is that cool?"


"Course." Patrick answered all easy. "Just let me pull off when I need to."


Jonny looked horrified, momentarily. "Of course Peeks, I wouldn't..."


"Hey," Patrick shrugged "some people are into that." He dove back in, letting the musk and taste of Jonny make his own dick twitch with want. Speaking of... Patrick stroked himself slowly, enjoying the weight of Jonny's hand in his hair and his cock on his tongue. Mmmmm it was nice. Patrick deep throated for a few more minutes, getting competitive with himself, trying to stay down longer each time. The final time he pulled off, Jonny was shaking and stopped him before he went in again.


"No, I, I can't its too much, I don’t want to..."


"I get it." Patrick whispered and nuzzled into Jonny’s dick, nosing along the straining shaft. "Just fuck my mouth, shallow, so that I can jack off."


Jonny's eyes widened more, somehow. But he nodded and followed Patrick's instructions. He held Patrick's head, probably more gently than anyone Patrick had ever done this for, and started pumping his hips. That freed up Patrick’s right hand, and Patrick could turn his thinking off while he focused on getting himself there. He really did miss this. Girls were great, sexy as fuck. They were all so different too in how they wanted it, but soft, all the same. Guys were... rough and powerful. Like Jonny could totally choke him if he wanted to, shove his dick down Patrick's throat and not let Patrick off. It was thrilling and hot. Patrick looked up at Jonny when he felt his orgasm coming. Jonny's head was tipped back, abs tight and mouth open, a fucking beauty, really. How had Patrick never really noticed? Also, all that naturally olive skin, so unfair.


Jonny body tensed impossibly tight, muscles quivering. He was obviously very, very close.


Which... right, they hadn't discussed the finale.


Patrick didn't much care, his own dick was aching, angry and wet at the tip, just wanting release. He moaned around Jonny's cock, fully aware that would add sensation, sure enough, Jonny groaned in response.


"Close, Peeks, I'm..."


Patrick didn't hear the rest, if there was any, because a couple of things happened in sequence. Patrick came over his hand and onto the grey hotel carpet and shortly after that Jonny came partially in Patrick's mouth and partially down his chin in a broken "fuck, sorry, shit." type of moment.


Patrick swallowed. Jonny stared.


"So for future reference, I don't mind if you come in my mouth so long as you're clean." Patrick slumped back on the floor, stretching out his legs and leaning against the bed opposite Jonny's.


"Holy shit." Jonny looked totally fucked out and glazed over. Patrick remembered that feeling. That first blowie from a guy.


"Right?" Patrick rubbed a hand down his face, getting the last of Jonny's come and wiping it on the carpet. He also cracked his neck from side to side.


Jonny kept watching him, staring, dumbfounded. Dick still hard.


"Whoa bro, your dick takes a while to go down. Bet some dude will get a real kick out of that someday." Patrick stood, stretched his knees some and tilted his head to the shower. "You coming?"


Jonny’s body seemed to follow on autopilot but the whole time his face looked like he was expecting to wake up from a really fucked up dream. Patrick got the shower nice and hot and grabbed a bar of soap from the sink counter. The hotel shower was relatively big, all stand up and clear glass, so it wasn’t too much of a squeeze for two hockey players to be in there at once. Patrick encouraged Jonny to dip under the spray while he soaped up and then they switched. Patrick kept things casual, for the most part. He copped a feel of that ass though, because he wasn’t a saint.


Like a wild pitbull, Jonny growled something and hid his face in the water.


They didn’t talk much when they got into their own beds. Patrick felt loose and content, nothing like sucking a cock to relax a guy. He hoped Jonny felt the same, and wasn’t over there brooding in his bed. Patrick was confident in his cocksucking skills but significantly less confident in all things Jonny.


And, the next morning was…business as usual, sadly. And every morning after that for the next two weeks were worse still.




Patrick couldn’t figure out if Jonny was reeling from some self-hatred backlash or if he just actually wished legitimate death on Patrick. The latter wasn’t totally inconceivable.


Jonny was worse than ever at practice and at home. He actually started putting all of Patrick’s stuff that he left around the apartment throughout the week ( shoes, keys, I-pod etc) in front of his bedroom door every weekend like a passive aggressive bitch.


Patrick’s demeanor had never allowed him to take the high road, act superior and undisturbed. So he called Jonny out, told him to fuck off and stop being so anal fucking retentive. And Jonny screamed back until they were shoving each other and slamming doors.


Of course, their play didn’t suffer. Like, at all. Which was even more annoying because Coach just kept muttering about their insane line chemistry and how the rink was going to be filled with banners by the time they were through. If the Blackhawks kept them both, of course.


Almost two weeks after the blowie that apparently ruined Jonny’s life and obliterated any chill he might have had, Patrick scored his first hat trick in the NHL. They were still in the pre-season, but Patrick’s heart felt like it was going to burst all the same.


Even moody, brooding, Jonny Toews couldn’t have touched Patrick’s high. He skated a lap, starry eyed and so fucking proud while hats and hats dropped onto the ice. Patrick could taste all the reasons why he lived away from home and worked with coaches and trainers instead of doing normal high school things like getting too drunk at parties and going to prom. He remembered, as he grinned at the jumbo screen, why he loved hockey. It made him shake because he didn’t realize that he needed reminding, which made him want to hold onto the feeling of pure elation forever.


After, the boys brought him and the rookies out to celebrate. Sharpy intended to get them good and drunk, ‘use that teenage liver.’ Patrick never stopped smiling, always had a drink in his hand, and found everyone around him hilarious and charming as hell. He even felt generous enough to lean into Jonny once and give him a heads up about a guy on the other team that had wandered into the bar. Patrick was 99.9% sure he would be down. Jonny, of course, just clenched his jaw and stared straight ahead. Patrick shrugged, no one could say he didn’t try.


He went home with a pretty girl who said she played tennis on her college team. And, although a little sloppy, Patrick was sure he showed her a good time. God, he loved how girls sounded right before they got off, so much sexier than men. Like an art form, a gorgeous graceful art form that had a direct line to his cock.


In the morning, she happily signed an NDA in exchange for Patrick’s signature on a picture of him that she printed off the internet. Patrick laughed because she was clearly low on red ink so his jersey came out almost a magenta pink. After a little small-talk with her and her roommates and some coffee, Patrick called a cab and tried not to look so shameful when he made the walk back to his and Jonny’s shared apartment.


Jonny was on the couch when he walked in, and didn’t even turn his head to acknowledge him. The place was spectacularly spotless, and…Patrick craned his neck down the hallway to confirm that yes, all his shit was sitting in a pile outside his door.


Fucking…. If Patrick hadn’t just gotten laid, he’d start a fight. Instead he sighed, grabbed a bottle of blue Gatorade out of the fridge, and slumped down on the opposite end of the sectional from where Jonny was trying to burn a hole into the tv with his death glare.


“How was the rest of the night?” Patrick asked, figuring it was safe territory.




Patrick rolled his eyes. “What happened after I left?”


“Everyone got drunk, left with someone or went home.” Jonny answered curtly, like Patrick was ruining his day, maybe even his week.


And that right there, that was enough to pierce his post-fuck glow. “What the fuck is your problem dude? What the fuck have I done to you in the last 24 hours that you feel the need to be this rude ass dick?”


For the first time in all the times they fought, Jonny actually looked…ashamed. He sagged a little into the couch, “You haven’t done anything Kaner. Sorry.”


“Then what’s the deal? Like, for real, just tell me so that I can not do whatever it is that I’m doing that pisses you off.”


Jonny deflated, flopping his head over the back of the couch. “There’s nothing you can do about it, Kaner, just drop it, eh?”


“No dude, you’ve been pissy as hell since that Red Wings game, come on spill man.”


“You know what,” Jonny reared, “You’re not entitled to everything alright? I don’t have to tell you what’s been bothering me just because you asked.”


Patrick knew he was awakening the hulk, knew in his core it would end in a screaming match, but he was just so fucking tired of Jonny harshing his vibe. “Bull fucking shit Jonny you brood and mope and act like a dick and you know who gets to deal with that the most? Me! Jesus we need to get you fucking laid already.”


“You fucking asshole...” Jonny threw the remote down on the couch and turned angrily toward Patrick. “You prance around making gay jokes, hooking up with whoever you want, and you have no idea how fucking privileged you are. Some of us can’t have everything we want and it fucking sucks when dicks like you act like it’s so easy, like everyone should just be getting everything they want all the time.”


Patrick threw his arms up, “Oh boo-hoo, I’m a hot NHL player that doesn’t have enough game to pick up. Newsflash Jonny, you don’t need game. You’re a rich, hot athlete that speaks French! If that’s not fucking privilege, I don’t know what is.”


“You are so fucking infuriating.” Jonny growled, hands clenching at his sides like he was stopping himself from punching Patrick in the face. “I can’t just pick up, bro. Its not that fucking simple.”


“Ugh, it literally is, bro. I told you about that dude last night and you totally shut it down.”


Jonny really started fuming then, eyes murderous. “Yeah, and what would I do with him Kaner, huh? My entire fucking gay sex experience includes, oh lucky fucking me, you. Of all assholes, you. Crisse!”


Patrick opened his mouth to retort, something like you’re only so lucky, but stopped. He hadn’t really thought about it that way. Like, he knew, kinda abstractly that Jonny probably hadn’t done anything with guys. But Patrick had forgotten the nervousness, the awkwardness, the fear that he had when he first started. It was so long ago, that it was all practiced for him now, second nature. Grab a guy, figure out what you’d both like, do it, peace out. But Jonny was.. shy, Patrick knew that. And also unable to be anything less than perfect at anything he did.


The guilt must have shown on his face because Jonny just shut down and said, “Yeah, exactly.”


Okay, so. Patrick needed to not spend the rest of the year (possibly the rest of his career) with a dude that was all angsty and brooding and shit. To do that he needed to get said dude laid. To do that, he needed to get that dude comfortable with his body and other dudes’ bodies in a sexual way.




“Alright. I get it.” Patrick pressed his lips together, “So look—“




“You haven’t even heard my idea!”


Jonny flattened his glare, “I know that face and it’s gonna be a stupid fucking idea.”


“Wrong. I was going to say that we need to do some tutoring man. Like, get you all knowledgeable and shit on gay sex and then I can teach you some tricks for picking up dudes on the DL and then problem solved.”


Jonny’s expression was a cross between clear concern for Patrick’s mental health and general disgust. “You want to tutor me on gay sex?”


“Yeah. Like get all the awkward shit out of the way. You don’t even like me, have nothing to prove to me, so, it’s cool right? We’ll fool around and then you’ll be a butterfly ready to spread your wings.”


Jonny sank down into the couch and held his head in his hands. “Crisse you’re a lunatic and an asshole.”


“Is that a yes?” Patrick smiled, the please give me my way smile. Patrick waited Jonny out, watched the internal dialogue play across the scrunch of his eyebrows and the twist in his jaw. But Patrick could tell, even as the credit rolled on whatever documentary Jonny was watching, that Jonny knew Patrick had a point.


“Yeah, alright.” Jonny looked up, annoyed but also… thankful? “I feel like I’m gonna regret the shit out of this.”


Patrick laughed, cackled really. “Well, I definitely won’t.”




Jonny wanted to start with a hand-job. Said, that’d probably be what he started with when he did it for real. Patrick happily obliged him.


Patrick got Jonny to agree to strip his bed and put a spare sheet down because lube...gross. It was clear from the start that Patrick still needed to be the one to take the lead. So Patrick straddled Jonny's (still gorgeous) thighs, leaner now that the pre- season bulk had burned off some. Jonny started off tight, hesitant, clearly debating every move including (but not limited to) where to put his hands.


"Just do what you want, man. I'll tell you if I'm not into it."


Jonny nodded, jaw set firmly like it did when he was trying to learn a new play or work on his shooting. He started touching Patrick's thighs, caressing up the jut of his hips, stroking over his ribs, and dragged his thumbs over Pat's nipples.


"Fuck." Patrick muttered and shivered.


Jonny raised his eyebrows and did it again. Patrick rolled his hips, eyelashes fluttering. His nipples were definitely sensitive. Guys and girls had told him over the years that his seemed more sensitive than most other people they'd been with.


"You're sensitive here." Jonny commented. Like he was making an observation on someone's stick handling. Patrick grunted in response. Jonny kept playing, pinching and rolling expertly. “Thought that might only be girls.” Oh, yeah, Patrick shouldn’t forget that Jonny was no virgin.


Patrick laughed, “You calling me a girl, asshole?"


"I like it." He said lowly. Patrick opened his eyes, and watched Jonny watching his body. "They get hard and pebbled and your dick's already leaking."


Patrick moaned and clutched Jonny's shoulders. "Tazer." He breathed, not sure if he was asking for more or for him to get his hand around their dicks already.


Jonny blinked at him, mouth open and already panting a little, “What do I…? I mean, how do you want it, exactly?”


Patrick started to move but Jonny stopped him.


“No, just, just tell me.”


Patrick nodded. How could someone learn if you were doing it for them all the time? “Like, I’m gonna get my dick right up to yours and then you wanna, kinda, jack us both off together. Oh, and lube man.”


Patrick shuffled ever so slightly and they both groaned in unison.


“Fuck.” Jonny muttered, hands squeezing around Patrick’s hips.


“I know, like why do dicks touching feel so good?” Patrick gasped out. Jonny chuckled. Chuckled, and it had no right to be sexy. “Dude,” Patrick commented while Jonny uncapped the lube with one hand, “you’re hot as fuck all mellowed out and hot for it.”


“Idiot.” Jonny shook his head and Patrick had a retort, he really did, but Jonny’s big hockey hand was wrapping around both their dicks and Patrick couldn’t really breathe too well. “Good?” Jonny asked.


Patrick moaned, “Shit, yes.” And then, “But like tighter—yes. Fuck yes, like that.” Patrick actually, honest to God, whimpered once Jonny got his rhythm started.


“Come closer.” Jonny instructed. But because Patrick was NOT in a headspace to understand vague commands, he clarified, “lean your chest over.”

And oh, fuck yeah. Jonny started flicking his tongue over Patrick’s nipples, and taking each one into his mouth, biting and sucking it deeply. Patrick was shaking, body so perfectly overstimulated all he could do was clutch the back of Jonny’s head, arch his back, moan broken little sounds.


“Tazer, I’m fucking close, so...” Patrick’s abs tightened in acute pleasure as Jonny gave a particularly hard squeeze to the heads of their cocks.


“Yeah, Peeks, come on, you look so fucking good like this. Your nipples are all red, bet they’ll be sore as fuck tomorrow.”


And… dirty talk from Jonathan Toews was an unfair advantage. Patrick couldn’t defend himself because he was too busy blinking away the wetness under his eyelashes and spurting ropes of come over his and Jonny’s dicks.


Jonny tipped his head back and grunted, bringing himself there with a few more firm strokes that had Patrick yipping with the type of stimulation that fucking hurt.


But fuck it was worth it.


Leaning back, breathing hard, and watching Jonny’s chest rise and fall as he sucked in air and looking at Patrick like he was stoned out of his god damn mind… yeah. Nice.




Once they replaced Jonny’s bedding and decided what to order for dinner, Patrick was the one to get them talking about it.




Jonny arched an eyebrow, face attempting to be blank (but haha, Patrick could still see the glow on his face from their earlier activities).


“Like,” Patrick tried again, “What’d you think?”


Jonny scoffed into his water, “It was good, obviously.”


“Dude. Come on, play along please.”


Jonny sighed, but licked his lips. “I liked it. I guess I didn’t—“ He stopped, scratched his neck to think for a minute and then continued, “I guess I just realized sex is sex, you know? Like, yes you have a dick but somethings translate.”


Patrick’s grin widened, feeling like a proud coach. “Definitely. Dirty talk? 10 out of 10 dude. And body awareness, like you—“


Jonny threw a pillow from the couch at Patrick’s face to effectively shut him up from the full review he was prepared to give of Jonny’s performance. Patrick dissolved into giggles and threw the pillow back and before they knew it they were wrestling on the couch, laughing every time Patrick tried to finish his review and Jonny tried to cover his mouth.


The delivery man saved them, but Patrick was still chuckling and breathing hard as he paid the man with crumpled bills.


“There’s fortune cookies right?” Patrick checked. He wasn’t going to make the man go back for fortune cookies, but he wanted to prepare himself ahead of time for disappointment if that was how it was going down.


“Yes sir.” The guy smiled widely when Patrick tipped him and gave a sort-of half-nod of his head in thanks.


“Don’t know why a Thai restaurant has fortune cookies to begin with.” Jonny commented from the kitchen as the door closed.


“Cuz, they know what we want.” Patrick quipped back, turning to bring the food in. Jonny was leaning with his forearms on the counter. His eyes lacked their usual tight lines and lazer death glare. Suddenly, Patrick was struck by Jonny, loose limbed and crocked grin. Hot. Damn.


“Bro, you’re fucking hot.” Patrick commented, setting the brown paper bag on the island. Jonny started getting out plates and forks for them (because Jonathan Toews would not eat out of an aluminum take out container, thank you).


“You keep saying that like this suddenly happened.”


Patrick laughed. He was funnier too! “I just mean, like when you’re not looking all serious and shit. It’s a good look on you.”


Jonny got quiet, mouth firm (not in an angry way, in a thoughtful way, Patrick could tell the difference now). “I’m not—I think I’m the type of person that you have to get to know.” Jonny shrugged one shoulder and paid very close attention to scooping the whole grain rice on his plate.


Patrick probably shouldn’t have, he had no idea if Jonny was into it, but he acted on instinct and craned his neck to press his lips against Jonny’s. It felt nice, kissing him like that, feeling the way his lips were limp and surprised at first but then alive and kissing back. Patrick was an overtly touchy person in general and hugging or kissing someone on the cheek was kinda his only way of showing them comfort. After, he smiled widely and took his plate to the couch.


They put on the Sabres game (hah! Jonny didn’t even complain) and ate in silence for a few minutes.


“So kissing guys…” Jonny started, awkward and clunky.


Patrick glanced over and then pursed his lips. How? How did Jonny become all rigid and uptight again in a matter of minutes? “I kiss guys.” Patrick’s clarified, totally getting Jonny’s point. “But if you’re hooking with guys in the NHL, I’d be careful with it.”


Jonny nodded and (thankfully) relaxed back into the couch.


After they woofed down a little more than their macro carb amounts. Patrick demanded they go through his family’s fortune cookie ritual as usual.


He shook the fortune cookies in his hands and dropped them on the coffee table. After careful inspection, he determined which one was pointing at Jonny and which one was point at himself.


“I can’t believe you use that end.” Jonny muttered.


“Its literally the shape of an arrow dude, get over yourself.” Patrick would not entertain the fact that Jonny thought that the fortune cookies with the two pokey ends facing him meant that the cookie was his. No way.


Patrick held his fortune up to his head, “Okay, what’s my question? What should I ask…. Um… oh!... Am I going to keep playing for the Chicage Blackhawks in three years?

Patrick hurriedly cracked the cookie open and unfolded his fortune—“Your ability for accomplishment will follow with success.” Patrick grinned, “I’m taking that as a yes.”


Patrick motioned at Jonny and bounced forward on the couch cushion, “Come on dude, do yours.”


Jonny sighed, “um—“


“Hold it to your head dude, do it right, man.”


“You’re fucking insane.” Jonny griped, but he brought the unwrapped cookie to his forehead and held it there. He twisted his mouth in thought, “Will I ever fuck someone more attractive than Patrick fucking Kane?”


Patrick gripped his chest in mock-hurt. “You ungrateful asshole.”


Jonny bit off half the cookie and chewed it while he opened the little white paper “Fortune says…You will be successful in love.


Patrick barked in laughter. “Fucking beauty fortune. You should take that as a hell fucking yes.”


Jonny quirked a suspicious eyebrow at the little slip, “This shit is so stupid.”


Patrick threw a soy sauce packet at him.




Jonny had an amazing next game. Which meant Patrick had an amazing next game. They couldn’t go out and celebrate because they had early morning practice for a game the following day. But Patrick had energy to burn. So as soon as Jonny shut their apartment door, he blurted out, “You wanna continue sex ed classes tonight or what?”


Jonny rolled his eyes and didn’t answer. Just took off his shoes and hung up his coat and shuffled down to his room. Before Patrick could get too bummed, Jonny emerged from his room in sweats hung low on his hips. “Yeah, alright.” He answered.


“Yes!” Patrick fist pumped. Actually fist pumped. He laughed too when Jonny thunked his head against the wall and muttered in French.


Patrick kinda jogged down the hall to his room and Jonny yelled after him “But I have demands.”


“For sure bro, you earned it!” Patrick called back and stripped out of his game day wear.


When he re-emerged, Jonny was fiddling on his phone, bare chested and sprawled out on the couch. “So,” He said without looking up. “I think we should just talk some things out first.”


Patrick’s face fell. He didn’t want to talk, he wanted to have orgasms. Jonny must have glanced at his expression because he added, in a tisking tone, “I mean more planning not like… not like a talk talk.”


Oh, well, Patrick was pretty sure he could do that. “What’s up bro?” He climbed into the recliner beside the spot where Jonny sat.


Jonny wordlessly handed over his phone, which was open to the notes app.


Patrick read the note over quickly, all the while wondering how this type of thing came to be expected with Jonny. Like, of course the dude made a list. Patrick was honestly surprised there wasn’t a spreadsheet with expected completion dates and shit.


Blow Job

Fingering (both ways)

Anal Penetration (both ways)

Rimming (both ways)


“Those, uh, are the things I want to try before I, play the field or whatever.”


Patrick read them over, seemed all par for the course if not pretty basic shit. Also Anal Penetration? Jesus Jonny. And in any case, there was only one thing on there he hadn’t tried but he was willing to do it so…. “Looks good to me.”


Jonny looked supremely un-amused. “Play along, Kaner.” He said, echoing Patrick’s earlier words.


“What? Like we can definitely do all those things. The only thing that I can’t give pointers on his rimming, cuz I’ve never done that or had that done to me, but like, I’m still down so yeah, good.”


Jonny nodded, jaw set. “Good.”


Patrick handed back the phone, not making a single chirp about the background. A shot of Wayne Gretsky lifting the Stanley cup was akin to a picture of the Virgin Mary on a prayer candle.


Before Patrick could say anything, Jonny spread both his arms across the back of the couch and in a very confident, sultry voice said, “Come over here.”


And Patrick obeyed. He crawled out of the recliner and into Jonny’s lap face split into his I’m Currently Getting Lucky grin.   Jonny’s hand quickly came around the back of his neck, squeezing and pulling him down. And before Patrick could even wipe the smile from his facing, Jonny was kissing him. His lips and tongue flooding Patrick’s senses, asserting pressure and pleasure and skill. Whoa. But Jonny was an excellent kisser.


They parted briefly for air, and that was the first moment that Patrick noticed he had been grinding against Jonny’s crotch. There was a little wet patch on his sweats and he could feel Jonny’s hardened cock straining beneath him.


“Fuck Jonny, you’re such a fucking good kisser.”


Jonny huffed a little laugh, “I spent a lot of time making out in high school cuz you know, wasn’t that into girls.”


Patrick probably felt more sad about that than he should have. Jonny would hate him if he knew Patrick was feeling anything akin to pity for him. But like, Patrick could see hot jock Jonny trying to avoid a lackluster sexual experience by committing to extra-long make-out sessions.


“Well,” Patrick offered instead, “time well spent, bro.”


“Thanks.” Jonny leaned his head back against the couch, eyes hooded but body so nice and loose. “It isn’t weird for you when you hook up with someone and don’t kiss them?”


That made Patrick pause. The first two times they hooked up they hadn’t kissed, and it wasn’t weird for Patrick, exactly. It just wasn’t as full as it could have been. “I like kissing when I’m hooking up with anybody but like, it doesn’t bother me really if the other person isn’t into it.” Patrick didn’t understand it himself, like what the fuck is the difference between a dude’s dick in your mouth and his tongue, but men and homosexuality was a tricky thing sometimes, especially with athletes.


“It bothers me.” Jonny offered.


“Then you should definitely keep kissing me dude, or at least let me get these sweats off.”


Jonny pulled him back down and slotted their mouths together, slower this time, more exploratory. Patrick moaned when Jonny slipped his tongue in, and again when he sucked on Patrick’s bottom lip.


“I definitely want a blow job.” Jonny panted when they pulled apart again. “But I don’t want you to come like before. I want you to wait so that I can suck you off.”


“Ugh, fuck.” Patrick shivered. “Yes, okay.” And slithered down Jonny’s body to his knees on the floor.


“Dude. You have to be more careful.” Jonny grabbed a couple pillows from the couch and handed them down.


Patrick stuffed them under his knees gratefully. “I know, I just get caught up, plus this angle is the best.”


“Really?” Jonny asked thoughtfully, hand already reaching to pull his sweats down to free his cock.


“Well, I like it better. You can decide how you like it.” Patrick sat back on his heels until Jonny’s sweats were out balled up beside him on the floor.


From the start, Jonny got a good grip on his hair. “Start slow.” Jonny requested, body still slouched and head resting back.


Patrick shuddered with anticipation. Something about the difference between Jonny’s usual demeanor and the man in front of him, so relaxed, so comfortable just ready to sink into a good blow job. It made Patrick whimper while he gently suckled Jonny’s cockhead.


“I’ll get you, I promise.” Jonny reassured. But Patrick hadn’t doubted him.


He went slow, soft, letting the moisture build in his mouth until his own spit was dripping down his chin. He moved down at that languid pace and back up again. Jonny didn’t seem to be in any rush, just kept gathering the moisture that dripped down and jacking himself until his fist bumped Patrick’s lips.


Patrick sunk into. He let his mind wander, eyelashes fluttering closed. Sucking cock, especially like this, could do that to him sometimes—got him fuzzy and warm. Down and up and down again. The next time Patrick was fully aware, he noticed Jonny’s hand cupping his jaw, his thumb tracing the stretch of his lips over Jonny’s dick.


He was slurping around the head, tongue licking the slit when Jonny asked, “You’re jaw hurt?” Voice raspy and so fucking sexy.


Patrick almost shook his head but was with it enough that he pulled off and said, “Nah, I’m good.”


“You good if I go harder for a bit?”


“Mmm-hmmm.” Patrick opened his mouth and shut his eyes, tongue out like Jonny was going to come on his face.


“Fuck.” Jonny guided his cock in and held Patrick’s head still while he humped in and out of his mouth. “You’re so fucking hot Kaner, taking me cock slow and easy. Bet your jaw is gonna ache tomorrow.”


Patrick moaned and blinked up. Something in his eyes, or maybe just the angle of watching your dick disappearing into someone’s mouth while they watched back, had Jonny cursing in French and coming in Patrick’s mouth.


Patrick swallowed once and kept collecting Jonny’s load. Before he swallowed that, Jonny stopped him, “Wait, don’t. Let me see it first.”


Patrick easily complied, opening his mouth so Jonny could see his own come on Patrick’s tongue. “Fucking gorgeous.” Jonny muttered and his dick did this pulsing thing and added a few beads of come over the head. Patrick swallowed and then leaned forward to collect the little drops that remained.


“Shit.” Jonny breathed, hand scratching through Patrick’s hair.


Without the distraction of Jonny’s cock, Patrick became suddenly aware of the aching in his sweats. He needed stimulation on his dick, right the fuck now.


“Tazerrr.” He whined.


Jonny was still breathing hard and although he felt like he would die if he didn't come in the next 10 seconds, Patrick was determined to give the dude a minute. To distract himself, he rubbed his face against Jonny's inner thigh, feeling feverish. At this rate, Jonny would only have to lick his dick once and he'd shoot off.


"Peeks, Peeks, come on, come up here."


Patrick blinked, Jonny was trying to pull him up on the couch. Once his body got the memo he followed Jonny's hands. Suddenly, Patrick was thankful that they both agreed a deep sectional couch was a must for their apartment. They had gone halvsies on it and Patrick was never more thankful as he was now--watching Jonny have the room to spread Patrick's thighs and settle himself between them.


"Just, uh, tell me if there's anything--"


"Tazer," Patrick interrupted, "you could probably breathe on my dick right now and I'll come." Patrick shivered and stretched his leg to rest along the backside of the couch. Jonny sucked in a breath.


"Fuck, okay."


Patrick thought maybe he would need a little more encouragement but one second Jonny was hooking his hands up under Patrick's thighs and the next he was sucking on the head of Patrick's dick.


"Holy fuck, dude." Patrick's body jerked at the stimulation. Jonny was holding him, had him positioned, like he would... eat out a girl. Patrick was ridiculously turned on by it.


"Too much?" Jonny asked. His lips were already moistened and little red from being stretched.


"No, its just, I'm so fucking close. It's good. It's good." Patrick groaned as Jonny bobbed down, sucking Patrick's cock until it bumped the back of his throat and then pulling up again. It was definitely a little frantic, maybe too eager and pretty sloppy. But it was so good. Patrick had never thought to lay someone out like he was, but it was fucking hot. He could rake his blunt nails through Jonny's short hair, down his back. He could pump his hips a little without it being too much.


Any other day, Patrick might have been embarrassed by how quickly he felt his balls tighten. But he tugged at Jonny's hair urgently and Jonny got the message. He pulled off, one hand pumping Patrick's cock and the other rubbing his balls.


"Fuck yesss." Patrick arched his neck back and felt his cock jerk, spilling his load over his stomach and thighs.


He needed a minute.


He was breathing hard and totally boneless. All he could do was whimper when Jonny, very hesitantly dragged his tongue through some of Patrick's come that had landed on his hipbone. He made a little thinking sound that had no right to be cute and shrugged a shoulder.


"Not so bad?" Patrick asked, eyes smiling.


"Uh, yeah not bad. I still don't know if, uh… maybe next time I'll see if I like it shooting in my mouth but the taste is fine." Jonny rubbed his hands up and down Patrick's thighs, "You good?"


"So fucking good dude, like I'm not moving for at least 10 more minutes." Patrick smiled dopily, legs still splayed in the exact position they were in when he came.


Jonny's lips quirked in a fond looking smirk and leaned over to kiss him. Patrick hummed happily, enjoying the smooches that helped elongate his afterglow. And the kiss was... sweet, relaxed. It didn't have that edge like before, when they were both rearing to go. Patrick remembered, vaguely, about something one of his old teammates used to say when Patrick would chirp him about his super serious, monogamous relationship at the tender age of 16. The dude would just laugh and say something like you'll see, even shit like kissing is different with someone you actually know. Patrick thought maybe he was starting to understand that a little. And him and Jonny only barely liked each other.


"I'll do you a solid, Kaner." Jonny said when he pulled back and trotted off to the bathroom and returned with a (warm!) washcloth. He even went so far as to wipe Patrick down himself, being extra gentle around Patrick's spent cock.


Patrick offered his fist in thanks and Jonny rolled his eyes but fist-bumped him back.


Later, when Patrick was slow blinking at the TV, curled up under the blanket from the back of the couch, Jonny asked, "So, how'd I do then?"


Patrick uncurled the blanket enough to say, "'s'was awesome. You're a natural cocksucker." And then snickered when Jonny threw a piece of gluten free, salt-free, fun-free popcorn at him.


"Seriously, you asshole."


Patrick thought about it and then said, earnestly, "It was good, dude. Like try not to rush it next time, maybe go a little slower but like, a mouth on a dick is gonna be amazing any way you cut it."


Jonny hummed. Patrick could practically see him re-playing it, imagining himself slowing down, re-interpreting Patrick's reactions.


Patrick unraveled a leg from inside his blanket cocoon and nudged Jonny with his foot, "Hey, like dude, you're really hot and good at sex, any guy is gonna be so into it you probably wont have time to do anything fancy. And when you do, you'll be dating that person and then it'll be different because you'll be doing shit just the way they like it."


"What's the way you like it?" Jonny countered, ever the perfectionist.


"Me?" Patrick absently scratched at his chest, "I like hard sucking, not too deep, with a fast moving hand. And the slit, obviously, getting the balls a little is nice too."


Jonny arched an eyebrow, "Not deep?"


"Nah, I like the pumping more." Patrick poked Jonny with his toes, "What about you?"


"I liked it deep, but I, uh." He clammed up, face flushing a bit and hand rubbing the back of his neck.




"I like controlling it more, like when I fuck your mouth and you just have to take it. Ugh," Jonny scrubbed a hand over his face, "this is so fucking weird to say out loud."


Patrick laughed, "Dude, feel free to fuck my face, I like that too. But, definitely clarify that with people because someone might not like it." Patrick was going to leave it at that but then remembered, "You liked seeing your come in my mouth."


Jonny thunked his head against the back of the couch and then sorta lolled to look at Patrick again, "Yeah. I like that you swallow it, but I think, I'd like it if like, I could--"


"Come on my face?" Patrick offered.


"Yeah." Jonny sagged. "But I'm not saying that--"


"Nah dude, you can. That'd be hot." Patrick smiled. This arrangement was going to get him so. many. orgasms. He was fucking stoked. They talked a little more, shop talk about the team and the upcoming game. Patrick offered to throw the popcorn bowl in the dishwasher and Jonny folded up the blanket. It wasn't until he was setting his alarm, that Patrick realized he had a full, civilized, bro-like conversation with none other than Captain Serious Jonathan Toews. Who would have fucking thought?




The next day in the locker room. The very next day, Jonathan Toews chirpped Sharpy--something about boys from Winnepeg--and it was so dry and fucking hilarious that the whole locker room roared with laughter. Sharpy was startled into silence from the sheer unexpectedness of it, which conjured a whole other round of chirps and imitations of Sharpy's face.


"Good one, kid" Sharpy said, eyes proud like a father.


It was the start of a new era, one that Patrick was happy to say did not involve calling Jonny Captain Serious behind his back. He was just Tazer or Taze and although never rowdy or loud, he was more open, with a dry sense of humor that could literally dead the room with tear-jerking laughter.


Even though it was probably completely unearned (but maybe not) Patrick took some credit for the turn around. It wasn't all rainbows and butterflies either, they still fought like cats sometimes. But they rebounded faster and Patrick found himself "hating" Jonny less and less because of their fights. Sometimes, Patrick even liked the fighting. He liked that they had gotton to a place where they could yell and blow off steam and still order food together after it was all said and done.




Two weeks after that ground-breaking chirp, Jonny approached him about another item on his list.


Patrick was minding his own business, scoping out the fridge for the hummus he was positive they had kicking around somewhere, when Jonny wandered into the kitchen.


"Hey, Kaner."


"Yeah?" Patrick asked, hand rummaging past the salsa, and half filled bottle of pasta sauce.


"Wanna let me finger you tonight?"


Patrick's head shot right up, hummus completely forgotten. He looked at Jonny over the refrigerator door, "Hell yeah, you can fuck me too if you're interested."


Jonny's eyebrows shot up, and he asked "Yeah?" so fucking eagerly that Patrick chuckled, hand coming up in a loose fist to cover his mouth.


"Yeah bro, why not? We have like two days before our next game." And who was anyone kidding, they weren't getting the cup this year. But next year, next year they could.


Jonny rubbed his palms against his sweats, "Okay, sweet. So like..."


"Lemme see," Patrick chirped, "I think I can squeeze your dick in now, if it's available." Patrick hadn't eaten anything since dinner and then he used the bathroom and even took a shower. His hair was still wet at the nape of his neck. Pretty perfect conditions for a good fuck, if you asked him.


"Tabernak. I hate your guts." Jonny snatched the half drunk bottle of water off the table (maybe just to have something to snatch) and trudged off to his room. He didn't shut the door though, left it open like he knew Patrick would be following him, dick already perking with interest. It'd been over a year since his ass was pegged--about time Patrick thought as he jogged and catapulted himself on Jonny's bed.


"We should strip this." Patrick said, starfished on Jonny's plush duvet. "Lube gets everywhere."


Jonny just threw a clean top sheet at Patrick's face in response.


Patrick laughed, rolled of the side of the bed and helped Jonny drape it over everything. Patrick wasn't sure it wouldn't seep through, but it was kinda cheap feeling almost polyester maybe? but not straight cotton, so maybe he was wrong. Patrick shrugged, satisfied that he wouldn't be the one sleeping in come if things went array, and stripped out of his boxers and sweats.


When he looked up, he saw Jonny, still in his black breaks (ass filling them out obscenely well), collecting some items from the dresser.


"I've got water-based lube and lambskin and latex condoms--preferences?" Jonny asked matter of factly.


Why that got Patrick hot, he literally had no idea. It was probably the least romantic thing anyone had ever said to him. But it was Jonny, being matter of fact about sex, and confident and absurdly hot in black boxer briefs.


"Bro, if you're clean you can definitely tap this bareback." Patrick felt his dick chubbing up so he reached down to give it a squeeze.


Jonny tried to appear unimpressed, but his pupils were dilated and he did that thing were he touched the tip of his tongue to the side of his mouth. "If I'm clean? What about you?" He challenged.


"Dude, I get tested after every hook-up. Come on bro, think more highly of me please." Patrick spread his legs, giving Jonny a little glimpse of his hole.


Jonny rolled the lube bottle between his hands, thinking. "Yeah, alright." He paused, a thought occurring to him and asked, "You don't care if I, uh, finish inside--"


"Whichever. But like, after I come I don't move for at least 10 minutes so if your spunk leaks out on your bed, that's your risk." Patrick hooked both arms behind his head.


"You are so..." Jonny started, knee crawling over to Patrick with the lube in his hand.




Jonny shook his head as he leaned in to kiss Patrick. Deep and wet and promising, Patrick moaned into Jonny's mouth. Grade A kisser, God damn. While Patrick was distracted with Jonny exploring his mouth with his tongue, Jonny had somehow uncapped the lube with one hand, squeeze some out, and warmed it up because Patrick was utterly surprised when he felt the wet tip of Jonny's finger stroking over his hole.


Patrick shuddered and whined, already getting antsy by Jonny's teasing strokes.


"Easy." Jonny said. He was looking at Patrick while the tip of his finger was edging inside. "You are so easy."


"Oh, totally." Patrick agreed, and canted his hips so that Jonny got the cue that he wanted to move things along.


It was a short tumble into mindless lust from there. Jonny scooted down and got his mouth on Patrick's nipples and sucked and abused them until Patrick's skin flushed with heat and his thighs quivered with need. Jonny also sunk his finger into Patrick.


"Fuck, Peeks you're tight." Jonny cursed, added more lube and kept pumping his finger in and out.


"'s been a while. I can take it, though." Patrick focused on how full and stretched he felt with one finger, tried to remember having a dick in him and then remembered that Jonny's 20 year old dick was supremely more impressive than the 17 year old dick he had in him a little over a year ago.


He must have shivered or clamped down because Jonny stopped, finger buried to the last knuckle and asked, "You okay?"


"Yeah," Patrick answered honestly, "I'm just suddenly remembering that you have a big dick."


Jonny choked on a laugh. "I'm at least very patient. Unlike you." Jonny's eyes focused on Patrick's straining cock, leaking at the tip with just one of Jonny's fingers in his ass.


"Shut up and give me another." Patrick demanded.


Jonny huffed but moved fully between Patrick's legs. He looked so determined. It only made Patrick’s lust burn hotter. He started talking, running his mouth to distract himself from the fact that while he was a super easy lay, he was an especially easy lay for Jonathan Toews.


"You're good at this. Like fingering, its... you're well-versed, clearly."


Jonny smiled, "This is one of those things that translates." He added a second finger and slowly started scissoring Patrick open. Jonny's brow furrowed and he added, "But I've never, like, rubbed someone's prostate. But I read a diagram so I think if I…"


"Yes, fuck, yup there!" Patrick moaned, hips humping up into the air and body tightening.


"Shit." Jonny looked like he was going to swallow his tongue. "Was that... too much, or?"


"If you could just like circle it, not tap it, but like--" Patrick arched his neck. Jonny was perfectly coachable. Just a couple breathy instructions and Patrick grinded down on his hand like a dog in heat.


"Yeah?" Jonny checked in, sneaking a third finger in when Patrick was too busy getting his mind overloaded with prostate stimulation to care about the burn and the stretch.


"Yes, but like, hold up, I need a second." Patrick breathed, fisted the sheets to keep his hands off his cock. He was not coming before he had Jonny's thick pole inside him, no way. He needed to be hot and worked up to take that thing, at least this first time.


Jonny focused on stretching Patrick out, spreading his three fingers, adding lube. Patrick in turn focused on the little slice of pain, the stretch of his rim as Jonny manipulated it to widen further still. Patrick grunted every time Jonny spread his three fingers out wide and he hissed when Jonny tried to sneak his pinky in but it was too tight.


Jonny angled the heel of his hand up so that it rubbed against Patrick's balls, giving him something bright and pleasurable to focus on while he kept working of Patrick's ass.


"Dude, tell me if your wrist gets tired." Patrick said, realizing that he was sorta putting a lot of pressure on Jonny's hand and Jonny needed his hands for his career.


Jonny mumbled a “its fine” eyes raking over Patrick’s body.


“Okay, okay, I'm ready" Patrick stuttered out after however many long minutes of Jonny’s careful stretching. Jonny withdrew his fingers gently. Patrick took a second to breathe before hitching himself up and onto his belly. He got on his knees and arched his back, like he knew guys liked it (himself included) and buried his face in his folded arms.


"Like this?" Jonny whispered behind him, hand rubbing along Patrick's lower spine. He shivered, and didn't have it him to be embarrassed by it.


"Yeah, this is good for leverage." And it felt a little less vulnerable too. Patrick wasn't totally convinced that Jonny wouldn't be like painfully sweet every time Patrick winced or screwed his face up. Stupid Canadian boy.


Patrick breathed out when Jonny's hands circled his hips and moaned lowly when Jonny's thumb did one last trace of his rim, probably adding just a bit more lube.


And then there was the burning stretch of the head of Jonny's cock, insistent and impossible. Patrick felt himself bite his lip against the sensation.


"Pat, I can't..." Jonny stuttered out and then, "You have to tell me if it’s..."


Patrick braved a peak over his shoulder. He wasn't surprised by the pornworthy image of Jonny struggling with his base instincts, trying not to just own Patrick's ass. The image burned bright arousal in his belly.


Even though he knew his voice would give him away, he owed it to Jonny to be there with him on this, his first time doing this with a dude, "Slow's good right now. Hurts a little but it'll go away."


He felt Jonny's hands rub along his side, cajoling and apologetic, "Want me to pull out?"


"Nah." Patrick arched his back a touch and pushed out, "Keep it coming big guy."


"You are such an idiot." Jonny retorted but Patrick could hear the relief in his voice. Patrick knew from experience, it sucked to go this slow, to be so careful. Your brain wanted nothing more than to rut into that tight heat.


Finally, a little after Patrick started to wonder if he could really take all of Jonny, he was all the way in, deeper than anyone had ever been. They groaned in unison and Patrick felt wrecked before it all had really started.


Jonny mouthed at the back of his neck, insistent lips and hands encouraging Patrick to loosen, to turn. Jonny draped himself over Patrick's back, cock grinding gentle circles in his ass. Patrick lifted his head and looked over his shoulder and Jonny was there waiting for him, eyes glazed over but concerned.


"'m okay, 'm okay, it's a lot, but its good." Patrick tried to explain.


Jonny kissed him, shoved his tongue inside Patrick's mouth like Patrick imagined he wanted to shove his cock inside his ass.


“Peeks can I, I, crisse,--“


“’m good, come on Jonny fuck me. I’m ready.”


Jonny groaned and took a firm grasp of Patrick’s hips. He thrust forward experimentally, thick cock grazing Patrick’s prostate. Patrick couldn’t help but moan, and it felt like the flood gates were open.


Jonny started fucking him. Snatching his hips forward in nice deep strokes that made Patrick spread his legs and arch his back.


“Fuck Jonny, just like that, shit.”


“You're so fucking..." Jonny kissed him again.


"What?" Patrick prompted, needing the distraction.


"Pretty." Jonny whispered against Patrick's neck. "Your eyes get all wet at the rim when, when you--"


"Yeah, fucking always happens." Jonny groaned and started little thrusts that had no right to hit Patrick's prostate dead on. "The stimulation makes them water." Patrick gasped and cursed when Jonny finally picked up that he was doing something good back there.




"Mmmm." Patrick slid into it, let it wash over him. He was so fucking full, but it was good. His cock perked up again. It had flagged a touch when Patrick was busy getting split the fuck open on Jonny's dick. "Fuck me Tazer." Patrick commanded, sure of himself, "do it, I'm good now."


Jonny did him the favor of not asking again. Just started long, full thrusts that caused Patrick to grunt and bury his head in his arms. It wasn't until Patrick started pushing back, using his forearms to fuck himself on Jonny's cock that Jonny started truly fucking him. He wasn't savage, but his strokes were powerful, unrelenting--they punched broken moans out of Patrick that mingled with hissed curses. It was too much and so fucking good.


"Fuck, Tazer, fuck fuck fuck." Patrick shook and whimpered, feeling too overstimulated to even reach for his own dick but so needy for it he couldn't keep the sounds inside.


"Peeks, you ready? Want me to..."


"Yes, fuck please Tazer." Jonny groaned deeply and then reached around Patrick's hips to cup his leaking cock.


"Fuck, you're so hard." Jonny jerked him, mercifully. Not with intention to tease or last or finesse, with the tightness and strength of getting Patrick to shoot off. Which he did. Promptly.


Patrick might have broken his back with the exaggerated arch he pulled, but he half wanted to fuck into Jonny's hand and half wanted the prostate stimulation to stop--so his body sorta hitched up on his knees, head thrown back. When it was done, he sagged like a sack of potatoes into the bed, feeling heated and raw all over.


"Peeks." Jonny's voice was strangled and so tight, "I, do you need…?"


"No," Patrick rasped, body too limp to even lift his head, "Finish, bro. Do it, finish inside me. Do it how you want to."


"Crisse." Jonny cursed but started viciously pumping his hips, drilling Patrick's boneless body. It was a lot, probably too much. But Patrick could take it, and did. He was still a little post-orgasm floaty though so there were a number of whimpers and whines that he really wished he could have helped. But if Jonny noticed, it only helped him get there faster. Before it became too too much, he tightened his grip on Patrick's hips and shoved as deep as he could possibly go, groaning like he was about to die.


"Tabernak de mi calue."


"God bless you." Patrick joked, his mind still a bit hazy but coming to.


"Shut up." Jonny begged, "And how do you even have brain cells?"


Patrick snickered and rubbed his face against the sheets, "I've always had more than you anyway."


Jonny bristled and stretched out along Patrick's back mouth kissing the flesh behind Patrick's neck. His cock started to slip and Patrick shivered at the sensation.


"You good though?" He asked between sucks. Patrick blinked a few times, caught up the nice feeling of Jonny's body over his, the dull throbbing of his rim, and the totally wonderful afterglow of a great fuck.


"'s real good, dude. Excellent fucking work."


"Usually don't come so fast." Jonnny explained apologetically


Patrick wanted to say something like, that's what happens when you fuck the gender you're attracted to but was supremely distracted by the obscene squelching sound of Jonny pulling his cock out and the resulting wetness that leaked out his ass.


"Holy shit dude your load is massive."


Patrick didn't think he remembered that from blowing Jonny, he did have to swallow twice but that didn't seem like too much.




"Like I'm soaked as fuck." Patrick explained.


Jonny groaned but reached down to spread one of Patrick's cheeks. "It's leaking out all over you." Jonny whispered, voice dangerously aroused.


Patrick couldn't say why, just kinda acted on instinct. He was apparently a porn star in another life because he reached behind himself and dragged two of his fingers through the mess around his ass. He brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked on them. They tasted like lube, gross, but also Jonny.


"You're a fucking slut." Jonny commented, but his voice was all dazed out and awed.


Patrick flipped onto his back and smiled, knowing what Jonny was going to do when he shrugged and said, "I like eating your come."


Jonny growled and pounced forward, mouth devouring Patrick's.


If Patrick had to rate himself, he'd say he was pretty much nailing the whole teach Jonny the ways of sex thing. Like gold stars all around. Best. Idea. Ever.





The next day after practice, Patrick lounged next to Jonny on the couch. A hockey game played back noise to Patrick cruising facebook and Jonny reading…whatever the dude read.


“We’re like, a third of the way through your list bro.” Patrick noted off handedly. He could not for the life of him make another 4 letter word with the letters provided.


Jonny hummed his agreement.


“You been good with everything so far?” Patrick asked, eyes still on his computer. Jonny was not communicative about the sexual side of their relationship. He couldn’t shut up about Patrick’s meal plan, his time on the ice, his fucking stuff all over their apartment. But the sex stuff he stayed silent on.


“It’s fine.”


Fine?” Patrick looked up and glared. “Jonny, come on dude, we can barely watch TV without you like criticizing every commercial! This is real life dude, we can like adjust and shit. Whatever you’re into.”

Jonny rolled his eyes, attitude so fucking superior. “I get that Kaner. But we haven’t done much. I’m not fucking hoarding complaints or some shit.”


“You have zero thoughts about what we did last night? Really?”


Jonny twisted his mouth, guilty fuck. "I think I want to fuck you the other way, play with your nipples, see your face. It was good. I mean, if you prefer it that way, its good, but--"


"We can do it however, bro. But like, give me a few days." Patrick joked.


"No, of course, I didn't mean like.... Also, if you didn't want--"


Patrick had to cut him off, he looked so ridiculously like a floundering fish it was almost painful. "Dude, seriously, it was good. My ass is sore, which is like totally normal, you'll see. But I'm still down to fuck as evidence by the buckets of come you have splashed across the sheets in your hamper right now."


Jonny breathed out. "Okay."


They fell into amicable silence. What were the penguins even doing? Literally couldn't pull a play together to save their lives.


Jonny spoke up again, mouth twisted, "What does it mean, when your, uh sore?"


"Uh.." He was going to be an ass, say some smug comment, but then he stopped himself. Jonny wanted to know because, he'd never done this and if Patrick made a joke now, he'd get all moody and sensitive. "Well, I guess it might be different for different people but, my lower back gets tight, my tailbone and shit too. But my hole feels...I dunno, aches kind of? But like, when you've worked a muscle really good and you have to lay off it not like... pain exactly."


Jonny was watching him intently, lips parted.


"Can I..." He closed his eyes and shook his head.


Patrick legitimately did not know what he was going for so said, "Can you what?"


"Nevermind, forget it." Jonny moved to collect their empty Gatorade bottled but Patrick grabbed his arm.


"What, dude? You're dick was in my ass yesterday, don’t get prudish now."


"I just wanted.." He clenched his jaw and the muscle spasamed. He sighed but looked Patrick in the eye when he said, "I just wanted to see it, is all."


Patrick scrunched his eyebrows, "My ass?"


"Yeah, whatever, don't--"


"Sure. Like now?" Patrick clarified, hands already hooked on his waistband.


"Um... Wait, seriously? That doesn't freak you out?" Jonny eyed him suspiciously, hand still carrying the empty Gatorade bottle.


"Nah, its not that weird dude." Patrick shrugged off his sweats and turned on the couch so that his front was leaning over the back. He spread his legs--suddenly cognizant that this was not sexy with his tube socks on.


Jonny sunk to the floor behind him, hands coming up to gently cup Patrick's cheeks and spread them.


"Crisse." He muttered. Patrick watched him, saw how his eyes got focused and all... mesmerized? and it seemed like he reached out unthinkingly to stroke his thumb over Patrick's rim. Which fluttered under the attention.


Jonny sucked in a breath and looked... aroused!


"What do you see?" Patrick asked, voice pitched low with an attempt to be sexy.


"Its." Jonny cleared his throat, "red and a little swollen. It looks like its been..."


"Fucked stupid by a huge dick? Yeah, that's accurate."


And then.. and then Jonny fucking leaned in and dragged his tongue over Patrick's sensitive, swollen, puffy hole and sent a direct lightning bolt to his cock.


Patrick moaned like a whore and thunked his forehead against the back of the couch, "Fuck, Jonny."


He kept doing it, tongue lapping and lapping until they were both panting. "There." Jonny finally said, "Now it looks wet too."


"Fucking shit, Jonny that's so hot." Patrick could feel his skin breaking out in goosebumps and sweat breaking along his brow,


"You want me to stop?"


"What the fuck? No!" Patrick growled, hand finding his dry cock.


Jonny moved from behind him, sending in an alarming draft of air that had Patrick making grouchy noises over his shoulder. But Jonny was jogging back before Patrick could get too irate, and grabbed Patrick's hand to squirt cold lube into his palm.


"Does it hurt?" Jonny asked, thumb stroking reverently over Patrick's hole.


"Nah, not really, I mean sorta but then it feels good too... I don't know how to explain it, just fucking eat me out already." Patrick shuddered as he palmed the head of his cock. Jonny had squeezed too much lube in his hand but it was fine, he could work with it.


Jonny chuckled before diving back between Patrick's cheeks to slurp and flick his tongue against Patrick's abused hole. He wasn't lying, the stimulation did hurt in a way, but it felt good in the way fiddling with a tooth ache felt good..... and so fucking arousing. Because of the use from the night before, Patrick figured he was more aware of his rim. It seemed like every pass of Jonny's tongue felt amplified somehow. Or maybe that's how rimming always felt, Patrick wouldn't know.


But Jonny wasn't done with that, course he wasn't. He started making long stripes with his tongue over Patrick's taint, over his balls, swirling around the rim of his hole to do the hole process again.


"Shit, Jonny." Patrick moaned, his hand speeding up. He'd never…how could he have guessed he'd be so fucking into rimming? "I'm close." Patrick warned.


"Wait." Jonny demanded and reached around Patrick's moving hand because there was no fucking way Patrick was listening. He squeezed Patrick around the base of his cock and Patrick cursed him colorfully for it.


"You fucking--"


"Not on the couch." Jonny explained. He used his body weight to muscle Patrick onto his back. He bent Patrick's hips up, folding him almost in half and got Patrick's legs hooked over his shoulders. Patrick was stunned into submission. Jonny was between his legs, spreading his cheeks and lapping at his hole fucking eating him out. Patrick tentatively ran his hands through Jonny's hair and then fisted it when Jonny moaned his approval. It was all way too much, feeling Jonny between his legs, watching him, being bent in such a way that he couldn't move--only jack himself fiercely.


"Holy fucking--" That was all Patrick could manage before he was shooting his load over his own stomach, vision whiting out, muscles spasaming, cock twitching severely in his hand. ‘


Holy fucking was right. Patrick's mind was officially blown--somewhere over the back of the couch for sure.


Jonny popped up from between Patrick's legs after a few seconds, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.


Patrick grabbed at Jonny--his shoulders, behind his neck and even though Jonny tried to pause, tried to say something with his face all Canadian boy worried, Patrick was kissing him, tasting himself as nasty and dirty and slutty as that was. When they pulled apart, Patrick said, "You should definitely come on my face."


Jonny moaned and shoved his tongue back in Patrick's mouth while he fumbled with the string on his basketball shorts. They pulled apart for the mere seconds it took Patrick to slink a little down the couch and for Jonny to shed his loose shorts. And then without any direction from either party, Jonny executed the kind of line communication that Patrick always knew they were capable of. He essentially read Patrick's damn mind--just hiked one foot on the couch, leaned his hips forward and started pumping his cock right over Patrick's upturned face.


"Your mouth was made for cocksucking, you know that?" Jonny muttered, hand pulling back up by his foreskin to reveal an already moistened tip.


"Jonny, Jesus, let me at least get it wet for you." Patrick offered, wincing at the dry tug that Jonny was working with there.


Jonny fisted the base of his dick and took a couple deep breaths before saying, "Open up for me Kaner."


And Patrick was into that. He was into the confident almost forceful way that Jonny fed his dick into Patrick's mouth, pulled it out and rubbed it on his lips, leaned forward and up so that Patrick could lick energetically around the shaft and base and take some laps to Jonny's balls too.


Jonny stroked himself, not as fast as Patrick would have, but rough instead. Patrick busied himself with sucking on Jonny's balls, his hands steadying Jonny around the backs of his thighs. Really, there should have been absolutely nothing sexy about a dude's balls. But somehow, Jonny's sac was like a fucking lollipop to Patrick, he just kept wanting to suck and lick and watch Jonny fall apart. He watched him quiver and grunt and curse in French until his cock was red and aching and ready to mark Patrick up.


"Open your mouth." Jonny demanded, voice so deep and gravely.


Patrick tipped his head back, mouth open and tongue out like he was trying to catch snowflakes. He blinked once, and got a beautiful image of Jonny's hand flying over his cock and his jaw so tight the vein in his neck was bulging and he blinked again and felt the hot spurts of Jonny's load painting his cheeks, his upper lip, landing on his tongue and dripping over his chin.


Patrick instinctively swallowed and licked his lips, but he left the rest for Jonny to look at. Jonny groaned and shoved the tip of his (still hard) dick into Patrick's mouth to suck the remaining come off of.


"You're such a slut." Jonny said, but it sounded fond and sweet.


"Mmmm." Patrick felt floaty again, like he did after the night before or when Jonny fucked his face. He didn't come but his dick was definitely considering another round in a few more minutes. He was just apparently high on Jonny's cock and fabulous Canadian dirty talk.


Jonny took care of clean up. He gently wiped off Patrick's face and his stomach. He passed over Patrick's hole and between his thighs with a softness that almost put Patrick to sleep. But he didn't fall asleep because he knew if he stayed awake, Jonny would kiss him all sweet like.


He was right, of course. Jonny crawled back onto the couch and pulled Patrick into the space between the back of the couch and his body and started slowly pressing his lips against Patrick's and tracing his tongue inside, sucking on Patrick's bottom lip and letting their tongues stroke over one another.


Jonny tried to stop a couple of times but Patrick got whiney and handsy that Jonny relented and kept up the make-out session.


"Come on dude, you can't tell me you're not hungry."


A part of Patrick wanted to say nu-uh, he wasn't and drag Jonny back down.... but then his stomach grumbled and he was found out.


Jonny laughed. "What if I say we can order from that fried chicken place?"


That got Patrick's attention, he perked up, "And the brussel sprouts?"


"Yeah, alright." Jonny acquiesced.


And really, Jonny could come on Patrick's face any fucking time if it meant Jonny being all loose and flexible and sweet.



 They spent a solid three weeks dancing around Jonny bottoming. Patrick wasn’t in any rush— the abundance of hand jobs and blow jobs and the occasional fuck kept him satiated.


Unfortunately, Jonny acted like he was on some kind of timeline. So, Patrick knew, headed to his birthday when they had a two day break that Jonny was going to go for it.


”This is NOT a birthday present, asshole.” Jonny clarified.


Why that was important, Patrick didn’t know. He nodded, hands in front of him, “Wasn’t assuming anything, bro.”


Jonny nodded firmly, eyes laser sharp.


Patrick kinda liked how Jonny expressed nervousness like other people did irritation. You'd think the dude was getting chewed out by coach, not stripping down to be fucked.


"Quit acting like you're about to walk the green mile, dude." Patrick tisked. He rolled the lube bottle back and forth between his hands to warm it up.


"Fuck you." Jonny spat and narrowed his eyes at Patrick's dick like it was offensive.


"Dude." Patrick shook his head. "You don't have to want this. Like. Some guys aren't into getting fucked at all."


"I know that." Jonny growled. "I have to know for myself."


Patrick sighed. Competitive motherfucker. "Just tell me if you're not feeling it, bro. I might not be able to keep it up if it's like, a burden for you or some shit."


"You wouldn't be able to keep it up?" Jonny raised a challenging eyebrow. "That's pretty weak Kaner."


"Shut up." Patrick squirted some lube in his hand, testing it. It was plenty warm enough. He lightly pumped his dick, getting it all the way hard and glistening. Whatever people said about him, they were always fucking right about him being a show boat. "How do you want it?"


Jonny wrinkled his nose. "I want to see your face. But, I think my groin will hurt if I'm on my back." This clearly troubled Jonny. And, naturally, made Patrick laugh out right.


Patrick reveled in the way Jonny only glowered harder. His jaw clenched unhappily and his dick remained determinedly soft. "Sorry dude but please, act a little like this is fun. Fuck. It's easy, just fucking ride me. Done."


"I've never done that before Kaner. Stop being a shit-head." Jonny huffed...and actually sounded pissed.


Patrick cocked his head, voice coming out sharpened. "I haven't fucking forgot that you haven't done this before. Lots of guys think it’s easier to start on top, dude. Its better that way so you can go at your own pace."


Jonny looked at the hardwood, jaw working over. "I'm-not-gonna-be-good-at-it-like-that asshole" He muttered.


The comment--my dick is going in your ass, what more do you need to know--died on Patrick's tongue. He looked at how tight Jonny was all over, like maybe he would snap like a toothpick if Patrick pushed him. Honestly, Patrick predicted he was two more comments away from storming out, cursing Patrick well and good and stomping off somewhere.


Patrick decided he was going about this all wrong. So Jonny wanted to talk strategy, wanted to know before he did, that shouldn't have been a fucking surprise. It wasn't a hardship either, they had time.


"Look." Patrick sat next to Jonny at the edge of the bed. "I'm gonna make sure you're ready for it, okay? I've been dying to get my fingers up inside you for fucking months dude. Imma make sure you like that part at least. And then..." Patrick sucked in a breath, "And then when you're on top, you just lower your weight, that's it. You'll know pretty quick if you want to keep going."


Jonny's mouth twisted. "What if I..." Jonny licked his lips. "What if I can't get it all the way in, because of my ass?"


Patrick bit the inside of his cheek. He would NOT laugh or make a chirp--not any single one of the fucking thousands of chirps that threatened to spill out. "Once you're far enough down, I can keep you spread, I wont have to hold my cock the whole time." And it would be so fucking hot too--keeping Tazer's gorgeous ass open for him to sink down further on Kaner's cock.


"You're into this." Jonny observed, eyes watching Patrick's cock twitch. Like it was fucking news.


Patrick scoffed, "Dude. Your ass."


Jonny shook his head. The barest beginnings of a smile curving his mouth. "Fine, come on, finger me."


Patrick grinned, "Yeah, that's right baby, talk dirty to me."


Patrick would be lying if he said that his fingers instantly and magically made Jonny moan like a whore. He was all stiff and controlled breathing for the long minutes it took for Patrick to work his hole up to two fingers. Damn shame too because had Jonny been into, Patrick would have had jack off material for years. Beacause, Jonny's ass. Seriously, Patrick had to keep one hand pushing along the inner curve of one cheek just to be able to get enough room to work. Fucking hot.


They were quiet. Initially, Patrick tried his usual dirty talk. All true things about how gorgeous Jonny looked underneath him, how good Patrick could make him feel. That... didn't do anything for Jonny. Major disappointment.


Patrick decided, as his own dick flagged, that he was going to wait until he could get to Jonny's prostate with two fingers before deciding whether or not to call it quits--for both their sakes. As Patrick gently guided his fingers into Jonny, curving them down--


"Fuck, fucking!" Jonny yelped, body pulling away and shivering.


Thank God and the universe for the prostate. All Hail.




"Shit, is that--when I do that to you, do you…"


Patrick chuckled, "Yeah bro, why do you think it's so good."


Patrick became very well acquainted with Jonny's prostate. He stroked it, tapped it, circled, pressed it down and released. Jonny shook and moaned through it all. He also cursed in French, demonstrating the excellent work Patrick was putting in.


"How do you like it best?" Patrick was genuinely curious, from his view of the line of Jonny's back and the quivering of his thighs there didn't seem to be an obvious contender.


"Tapping it." Jonny huffed out, "But for longer."


Patrick tried that, pressing down and releasing in quick succession. He kept going, longer than he would have thought to do instinctively. But Jonny's hole just clamped down, his head hanging in deep groans.


Since the open ended communication was working for Jonny, Patrick kept trying it. "You ready for more, Jon?" He whispered gently.


And whoa, whoa, that did work for Jonny--like--although Patrick couldn't see it, he could feel Jonny's cock twitch.


"Yeah Kaner, come on."


Well then, sir yes sir. Patrick scissored his two fingers, loosening up that pretty pink rim to accept a third finger. He added more lube, got back at that prostate, and pumped and pumped until he could spread three fingers a little while it was inside. "Taser?" Patrick questioned, making sure his voice was like, zero amounts pushy, "You ready?"


Jonny looked over his shoulder, eyelids hooded, "Yeah Pat, lay down, I'm good."


Patrick smiled happily. Would fist pumping in bed be well received? He ignored that thought to focus on scrambling down as Jonny hitched back on his heels. Patrick spread out on his back, getting the chance to see Jonny's flushed cheeks and glistening chest for what felt like the first time in a long time.


"Jonny." Patrick whined and made gimme reach movements at him. When Jonny smiled and leaned forward, Patrick pulled him down for a kiss. A wet, dirty, awesome kiss that had way too much tongue but was exactly what Patrick needed. Jonny gave him some weight, just how he liked it and kinda let his body rub against Patrick's.


"Keep that dick up for me." Jonny demanded--bossy like he had done this a million times. Well. He apparently had Patrick's number because fuck his balls ached sharply at Jonny's words.


Patrick reached a hand around his dick. He let his forefinger and thumb act like a ring at the base, his palm pressing down along his hair there. He squeezed--hoping to hold off for as long as Jonny wanted him hard.


Jonny smeared some lube on Patrick's cock and Patrick whimpered. "Too close Jonny, you're so fucking hot."


Jonny grinned evilly and swung his leg over Patrick. Like cruel sex god from Canada he rolled his hips a few times, making sure that Patrick's dick, where it rubbed against the cleft of Jonny's ass, could really feel it.


"Fuck! Jonny, stop, I can't--" Patrick choked.


"Come on Kaner, you're gonna come before you're in me?"


"I fucking hate you and your freaky magic bubble butt." Patrick growled, head thunking back into the pillows.


And then... and then, Patrick's brain all but short circuited because Jonny just grabbed Patrick's dick, right under the head and guided it between his legs to his opening. There was one release of breath--all the time Patrick got to process how hot it was to watch Jonny do that, and then Jonny pushed, bore down and the crown of Patrick's dick popped past Jonny's tight ring of muscle.


Patrick arched his neck and shouted like he was in pain, he also made sure to squeeze tightly where his own hand was still holding the base of his cock. "Wait, wait, wait." Patrick panted, even though Jonny wasn't moving.


Jonny held, smirking like an asshole, thighs fully extended.


"Whenever you're ready Peeks."


Patrick felt the sweat along his hairline, this holding back an orgasm business was fucking work.


When Patrick thought that his eyes weren't going to roll back into his skull, he nodded shakily at Jonny. Jonny, who slowly sunk down, inch by inch on Patrick's cock until his ass cheeks bumped Patrick's hand.


"Gonna need you back in this Peeks." Jonny reminded Patrick gently. Because, so sorry, Patrick's mind was blown out somewhere on the headboard probably. God, Patrick didn't even know what he was saying--probably embarrassing babble at how good Jonny always makes him feel.


Patrick's hands shook slightly as he released his dick and reached out to get a handful of both of Jonny's toned ass cheeks. He spread them, like he promised Jonny he would when they started this whole thing. Jonny nodded approvingly and dropped the rest of his weight down. They both groaned.


"Your dick is so fat, it'll probably get my prostate every time." Jonny commented, in that weird scientific observation tone he could manage during sex that Patrick was always mystified with. Jonny seemed fascinated with the discovery and started rotating his hips, experimenting with how it felt with Patrick's dick in him.


"Seriously, dude. Like no fucking joke, I'm gonna come way too fast here."


Jonny stilled, "For real?"


"Yeah, i can't, you don't understand--" Patrick struggled


"Don't understand what it's like to be in a dude bare?” Jonny's eyebrow arched challengingly.




Jonny laughed, "You're just easy for it Kaner. You got all hot fingering someone else's prostate."


Patrick rubbed his hands up and down Jonny's ass, squeezing, he ran them up to his waist and back down to his ass.


"It's not my fault." Patrick pouted genuinely, "You're so fucking... you know."


Jonny's smile softened, "Hold out for me, Peeks. Make it good for me like you said."


Fucker. Patrick gulped but metaphorically squared his shoulders and nodded seriously.


Jonny uncharacteristically took mercy on Patrick and started easy with slow small rolls of his hips. It worked for both of them. Jonny was right, Patrick's dick was fat enough to really get a dude's prostate and Jonny was working himself through the stimulation.


"Yeah." Jonny groaned "You're always so good for me Kaner."


"Mmmph" Patrick's grip tightened on Jonny's ass and he wondered briefly if there would be bruises there in the morning.


"Alright Peeks" Jonny warned before putting a little more force to his grind, rising up and dropping down hard.


Patrick dropped out of consciousness. Like he was there and could tell you basically what happened but everything was so intense and hard and wonderful and fast that...he wouldn't consider himself a reliable reporter. Jonny's hands slipped along Patrick's abs where they were placed. His thick thighs doing all the work for both of them, pumping him up and down Patrick's cock. Patrick was sure the chanting was him, "Jonny, Jonny, Jonny, please."


Jonny just grunted--neither permission nor acceptance. Although Patrick feared he would come too soon, he didn't need to worry. Jonny's mouth parted and one sweaty hand moved from Patrick's abs to Jonny's dick and tugged twice, three times, and on the fourth pull Jonny came--hot semen painting Patrick's front.


Patrick had been working so hard to hold off basically from the start that he came tumbling after Jonny--thighs tight with lifting his hips what little way they could go off the bed.


Their combined panting sounded like a team bag skate. Harsh and shuttered as their lungs worked to get oxygen to their bodies. Patrick thought maybe the room would smell like sex for days.


Jonny's hole clenched with an aftershock and they both hissed. Patrick had to admit, it was really really painful on his hella sensitive dick.


"Jonny, I gotta--"


"Yeah. I got it." Jonny eased up and back, letting Patrick's softening dick slip out. He no sooner released Patrick, when he crashed beside him on the bed, legs tangled with Patrick and upper body twisted so his face could plant in the pillows.


Patrick exhaled. His body thrummed with so many good things and he had this weird off-handed thought that if Jonny was the only person he could fuck for the rest of his life he wouldn't be mad about it at all. There were so many... possibilities. Patrick shook his head remembering a. hockey and b. Jonny was some serial monogamist who was basically bidding his time before snagging the perfect trophy WAG... well HAB? Husbands and Boyfriends? He'd have to work through that idea. And C. it was Jonny... yeah, thought dismissed.


"On top was a good play, Kaner." Jonny commented to Patrick's right.


Patrick chuckled, "Orgasms make you a nicer asshole." Because, historically, Jonny was too competitive to admit that anyone was right about anything apart from him.


"Shut up. All I'm saying is, clearly you knew you were gonna do, like, zero fucking work. So good job with the set up."


Patrick went to hop on a chirp--something about how having a dick that good did take work but then he realized that Jonny was... totally right. Kaner hadn't even gotten his hand on Jonny's cock to help him along, let alone his feet on the mattress to pump his hips--NOT a beauty move. Actually, Kaner was kinda a selfish fuck and that made him feel shitty because it was Jonny's first time.   Since he definitely wanted to get his dick back in Jonny at some point if the option was on the table, Kaner made the effort to fork over a decent apology. "I know, my bad. Next time bro, I'll be prepared, alright? I wont leave you hanging again, promise."


"Shut up Kaner." Jonny rolled over onto his back.


"No, I mean it, dude." Patrick shifted on his side, so that he could look at Jonny's face. "I'm usually pretty... I mean, we can do it more...equally next time... or however you want it."


Jonny's eyes scanned Patrick's face. As a hockey bro, making sure someone wasn't faking them out or chirping them was second nature. Jonny especially needed help in that arena because he was a robot that took most statements literally.


"It was fine, Patrick." Jonny answered seriously.


Patrick felt his face fall, disappointed to hear his theory confirmed. "I'm sor--"


"No," Jonny interrupted, "I mean it was good. Peeks, I, uh, liked how we did it. You know I like... I mean you probably have noticed that I like to take the lead. It was fine that you didn't, you know, do more than you did, was all I meant to say."


Patrick scrunched his eyebrows--his post orgasm brain trying to make sense of Jonny's staccato comment. He filed it away to unpack later and settled for, "Okay."


Jonny huffed. "Stop it Kaner, I liked it okay? My balls actually hurt when I came. Stop..." Jonny waved his hand at Patrick's everything, "Moping or whatever."


Patrick grinned, oddly happy about the fact that using his dick as directed by Jonny got him so fucked up that he was willing to profess how good the sex was. Patrick waggled his eyebrows, "What I'm hearing is, you've got American come leaking out of your ass and you really like it."


Jonny shook his head at the ceiling, jaw working so hard to keep the smile from his face. He looked constipated. Hah! "You're fucking ridiculous, God."


Patrick cackled.




While Patrick believed that he was an excellent teacher, he had to admit that Jonny was an equally excellent student. He actually thought about the sex, like not when he was masturbating, and planned shit. It seemed to Patrick that he got off on the planning as much as the execution. He also did homework and research!


Patrick loved it. It meant many more orgasms (creative ones) that Patrick hadn't even anticipated. And, although never said aloud, Jonny was helping Patrick learn a thing or two also.


Like the time Jonny and Patrick were watching an episode on the travel channel of good eats in Nashville. Jonny had insisted on the show because they were going back to Nashville soon and would actually have time to try some of the places with the guys. It was all casual, normal roommate stuff until Jonny turned to Patrick and said, "Hey can I try something?"


Patrick thought for a second he meant another show but quickly caught on, nodding excitedly.


"Come here," Jonny patted his lap. Patrick eagerly crawled over, body positioned to straddle Jonny before he interrupted with, "No, the other way."


Patrick hadn't done it like that before. But he turned and swung his leg over, resting his ass in Jonny's lap and his back against Jonny's broad chest. "Like this?"


"Yeah." Jonny confirmed, husky in his ear. "Wanted to see what it would be like with our heights."


Jonny sucked kisses along the side of Patrick's neck. Patrick hummed happily, content to let Jonny proceed with his sex experiments. Jonny's hands groped Patrick all over, dragging a tongue over his nipple, a hand down his abs, a palm pressed to his dick, squeezing it through his sweats. Patrick's breathed harshly, mouth parted in pleasure.


"Now the only other question is if my dick is long enough to fuck you like this."


Patrick scoffed, "Please. You're such an arrogant shit. You know it is."


Jonny smiled against Patrick's neck, "I figured it would be." Jonny rubbed Patrick over his sweats and asked, so nonchalantly, "Wanna try it?"


Patrick nodded enthusiastically. He had cleaned out this morning, having anticipated that they would be doing something since they had the next day off in their schedule and they were at home for the following game. Patrick scrambled to get his briefs and pants off while Jonny chuckled and simply pushed his down a little, pulling his cock out over the lowered waistband. And, the fucker, had clearly planned the whole thing out because he retrieved the lube bottle that was stashed in the couch cushions.


"You're gonna get it all over your sweats." Patrick panted in warning as Jonny reached around to finger him.


"I don't give a fuck Peeks." And Jonny really didn't because he fingered him for forever. Or at least until the end of the episode. He tried to make comments too, get Patrick engaged in the show just to flaunt how Patrick was high as a kite on lust and Jonny was still with it.


"Whoa, look at that Sundae Kaner. That's got your name on it." Jonny teased, three fingers rubbing Patrick's prostate.


"You're such an asshole." He gasped, body quaking, skin already sticky with sweat. "Fucking get your dick in me, Tazer, come on."


A few minutes later, Jonny did. Patrick had to lean forward a little, feet pressed to the floor and lower back arched so that Jonny could sink in deeper and get settled. But once that massive cock was situated, Jonny pulled him back so that he could roll his hips from underneath--more stroking than pumping. Every time Patrick tried to help, add some force to it, Jonny twisted Patrick's nipple and told him to just fucking take it. So Patrick sort of just leaned there, against Jonny, arms wrapped back around Jonny's neck and feet just touching the floor.


A whole other episode passed by like some kind of count down.


Patrick had never felt so needy in his fucking life.


"Tazer, Jonny, come on, can't, it feels--"


"Shhh." Jonny hushed again. He leisurely squeezed lube in his palm and massaged it into Patrick's aching balls. He dipped down, feeling where their bodies connected, where Jonny split him open.


Patrick arched, whining feverishly. "Please, just do it, do it."


"You really want it Peeks?"


"Yes! Fuck, come on." Patrick shouted, hot and angry and horny.


"Alright get off." Jonny gripped Patrick's hips.


"No! I need--"


"Shh, I'm gonna turn you around, get off." Jonny explained firmly. Patrick huffed and growled while Jonny directed him through it and it felt horrible to be empty for the precious seconds it took for him to turn back around and get his knees planted on the couch. Jonny smiled smugly up at Patrick. But he couldn't keep the need from his face when he pushed his dick back into Patrick and Patrick lowered down on it--muttering and shaking the whole way.


"There you go." Jonny praised. "Now you can get it, do it has hard as you want. But hands on the back of the couch, Peeks."


Patrick would not be told twice. He gripped the back of the couch, trapping Jonny's head between both of his arms and used it for leverage to drive his body down on Jonny's cock as hard as he needed. He noticed, fleetingly, that his ass kept hitting the cotton fabric of Jonny's sweats, where they were pushed down Jonny's thighs instead of bare skin.


The force of impaling himself down on Jonny's cock pushed out cut-off moans from Patrick's throat and broken chants of "fuck yes fuck"


Jonny squeezed his ass, gripped Patrick's hips saying, "That's it Peeks, there you go."


It was exactly perfect, a balming pleasure, until Jonny reached between them grabbed Patrick's dick, thumb gently stroking caressing the spot under the head that was the most sensitive. Patrick shouted out in shock. Jonny didn't mind him, just ran his thumb into Patrick's slit, pressing down, making it hurt. Patrick sobbed and shook his head, "Tazer, no, its--"


Jonny snickered, "Your tip is practically purple Peeks. Come on, let it go."


Jonny licked his thumb and brought it back to circle the head, just around the slit. Circling and circling and circling. His other fingers held firmly to the shaft right below the crown, but he didn't jack him off.


It didn't matter, Jonny was right. Patrick came silently, for once. He sucked in a tight breath and then his body seized up. He could feel his mouth open, head tipped back like he was trying to catch snow flakes. He didn't even realize that Jonny was fucking up into him until he heard him groan and felt him sag into the cushions.


Holy shit.




It would be a small miracle if Patrick could move his muscles in a few days let alone the next hour.


They stayed there long enough, heaving and kissing, until things got uncomfortably dry and gross.


Patrick was genuinely concerned he might tear when Jonny pulled out because the lube had absorbed a lot and Patrick was already aching.


Jonny basically carried him to their jet tub and although it was barely big enough, he got in with him when the water was going and hot.


They replicated the position on the coach, Patrick's back to Jonny's front. Patrick's head lolled against Jonny's shoulder, his mind so fucking fuzzy.


"You okay, Peeks?" Jonny held him tightly.




"Come on, Peeks, you good?"


Jonny sounded slightly concerned, which is not how anyone should sound after holding off an orgasm for basically an hour and a half and then coming buckets inside another human being.


"M'good." Patrick mumbled, eyes droopy.


"Is this helping?" Jonny ran his hand over Patrick's front and he couldn't tell if Jonny meant the water or the cuddling.




"Crisse, you're out of it this time."


Patrick sighed, "S'good."


Jonny didn't let Patrick sleep by himself. He followed Patrick to bed, forced him to drink water that would definitely make him pee in the middle of the night and wrapped himself around Patrick's body like a deadly octopus.


"Peeks, Kaner, wake me up if shit gets weird." Jonny warned seriously.


What shit? Patrick shrugged and borrowed down. He was so fucking cold all of a sudden. Jonny seemed antsy for something to do so he turned his head and asked, "Can you get me'some sweats and a hoodie?"


"Course." Jonny jumped into action and for all Patrick could track materialized sweats that got tugged onto Patrick's body and a hoodie that he shoved over his head.


"Thanks." Patrick flopped down to the mattress.


"You're still shivering." Jonny observed, tightening his arms.




As expected, Patrick woke up in the middle of the night blearily stumbling toward the bathroom. When he finished, just shaking his dick out but still half asleep Jonny was suddenly in the fucking doorway.


"You good?"


Patrick jumped 10 feet out of skin, "Fuck dude!" Jonny just waited, eyes round and searching. "I'm fine. Just had to pee. Jesus, warn a dude."


Patrick tried to shuffle toward the sink but Jonny stopped him, grabbed his chin and looked at his face. He saw something he needed to see there because he just sighed, relieved and kissed Patrick on the mouth. "You're sweating in that, want a t-shirt?"


Patrick blinked, "Yeah, sure, thanks."


Jonny nodded and disappeared into Patrick's bedroom.


"Weirdo." Patrick muttered and washed his hands.


The next morning, over a very delicious egg white and spinach and cheese omelette, Patrick asked Jonny about it, "You were freaking out last night bro."


Jonny's chewing slowed and he glanced at Patrick and down again. "You were kinda out of it."


Patrick snorted, "For like 20 minutes dude. Sorry if an hour long fucking can put a person out for a minute."


Jonny stilled, fork loaded with a forgotton bite. "You were like that for over an hour, Peeks." He said it softly, carefully, like Patrick would blow up about it.




"I, uh, read that sometimes that happens to people. When the sex is... intense. Were you scared?"


Patrick scrunched his eyebrows trying to remember, "Nah, I just felt high as fuck, far away." Patrick looked up, "It wasn't like that for you?"


Jonny shook his head once.


"Well. As if you needed more to stroke your fucking ego now you have a drug dick that gets people high." Patrick teased but Jonny didn't laugh.


"We gotta be careful Peeks. If you're like prone to that type of reaction to shit." His voice sped up, "Because people say its not the same all the time, like it can make your body do weird things and with hockey--"


"Whoa. Whoa, Tazer ease up." Patrick put his hands out, "I'm fine. Its not a big deal. Seriously, I actually, like, feel really really good."


Jonny eyed him speculatively, "Yeah?"


"For sure. You'll see. I'm gonna be so on tonight, I can feel it."


Jonny acted cagey for the rest of breakfast but thankfully lightened up when they got on the ice for warm-ups. Patrick was in a very good mood, despite Jonny's mother henning and his energy clearly got people amped. And after lunch and their nap, Patrick proved it to Jonny. A four-point game. Two goals for Patrick and two assists. After the final goal, when Jonny put it in the net. Patrick stayed where he was on the ice, arms outstretched and shit-eating grin on his face. Like, come'on right? And Jonny was shaking his head when he crashed into him.


"Whatever you did, Kaner, keep it up." Sharpey said, towel smacking Patrick around the back of the head. "And maybe share the secret." The other guys hawed their agreement a scattering of seriously Kaner, and yeah dude really.


Patrick laughed, truly entertained, "It's a pretty lengthy process. You fuckers couldn't take it." And Patrick grinned down at his skates when he heard Jonny choke on his gatorade.




It was nearly Christmas, the Chicago winter really setting in. They were doing better than people thought they would, but getting to the cup was a slim chance. But, Patrick and Jonny were at least sure now that they weren’t getting sent back down.


Patrick was just minding his own business, watching Pitbulls and Parolees and generally trying to ignore the compulsion for the cereal stashed in this room (because Jonny would throw it out if it were anywhere else, motherfucker), when Jonny came out of his room, sat on the couch beside him and said, "Wanna fuck me tonight?"


Patrick choked on his tongue, had to cough for air in a struggle to say, "Fuck yes, dude."


Jonny looked at him like he was considering taking the offer back. The look was only slight dimmed by Jonny's clearly freshly washed hair, springing out in all directions. Why he showered when he was going to take another one in an hour struck Patrick as odd but hey....his dick in Jonny's ass.


"Um... did you want to... now?"


"You can finish your show, I'll be in my room." Jonny stood up, bare feet padding along the rug and down the hall.


What a fucking power move. If Patrick cared about shit like dignity he would be all wound up. Like would not finishing the show make him look too thirsty? Was it a test or whatever, like how bad do you want to hit it? Meh... Patrick was getting so hard already, thinking about Jonny smiling smugly because he knew that even if Patrick did stubbornly finish the episode he would only be thinking about sinking into Jonny's gorgeous backside.


"Fucking asshole." Patrick muttered as he scampered to Jonny's room.


Jonny was reading... reading! And he looked up with a smirk, "It already finished?"


"Re-run." Patrick huffed out. Jonny's steady gaze called bullshit so Patrick amended, "Dude, stop acting like your ass is less interesting than animal planet programming, Jesus.”


Jonny smiled in that way that reminded Patrick of a mountain lion or a wolf or something that was about to eat something else. It really got Patrick hot, apparently, because he was sort of squirming in the doorway.


"Get undressed." Jonny demanded and rested back into the pillows like he expected a show.


No problem. Patrick knew what he looked like and had been undressing in front of people since basically birth. He stripped out of his shirt by pulling on the space he could reach just behind his neck. His sweats and boxers went together and all three items got to hang out as a pile on the floor. His dick was fully hard--antsy motherfucker.


Jonny's eyes swept over him, paying particular attention to the way his cock jutted straight out and kinda up because Patrick was so fucking hot for Jonny.


Jonny was already bare-chested. So he swung his legs over the side of the bed and shucked off his sweats. When he leaned back against the pillow he spread his legs too and Patrick knew his mouth was open, lips shining from licking and biting them. Jonny was a vision, hard bronze body, hockey thighs for days, and... oh.


Patrick groaned, Jonny had already lubed his ass. It still looked a little tight, especially because Patrick was on the thicker side, but fuck that meant that Jonny was probably getting himself ready in the shower, planning this out.


"Dude," Patrick whined and jerked forward but stopped himself before he took a full step. It felt like...well Patrick always assumed that when they were doing it like this, which was usually, that Jonny called the shots.


"Come'ere peeks." Jonny said softly.


Patrick stopped himself from sprinting to the bed, waiting for Jonny's silent instructions. Jonny smiled encouragingly when Patrick crawled over him and then he gripped the back of Patrick's head so hard and yes, Jonny kissing him, yes it kept being so good. Patrick licked into Jonny's mouth hungrily wanting to show him how turned on he was.


Jonny pulled away first, thumb stroking the cords of Patrick's neck, "Get me good and ready Peeks, then I'll let you get it."


Patrick sucked in a breath. A part of him wanted to scream how the fuck am I suppose to do anything but mount you right now, but another part, the larger part wanted to show Jonny how good he could make it, that he'd be worth it. Patrick liked when things were hard, (heh no pun intended) when things were difficult and he had to be good at them, had to earn them.


Patrick was gonna foreplay the shit out of Jonny.


First, he sucked bruises along Jonny's neck, love bites that Jonny would have for a few days and remember how good Patrick could give it to him. Jonny liked when Patrick played with his nipples, bit them and sucked them red but it didn't get him as hot as biting his hip bones. Patrick went to town on those, on the V of Jonny's lower abs. Everytime he dragged his teeth along them, Jonny sucked in a breath or swore.


Patrick glanced up before he went lower, wanting to see Jonny, make sure it was right. Jonny smiled lazily back at him, arms pillowed behind his head. Patrick took it as approval and spread Jonny's legs wider.


"Fuck Jonny.' Patrick blinked and shook his head. It was overwhelming sometimes, sex with Jonny.


"Come on Peeks, you're always bragging how you use that mouth on girls. You gonna give me less than your best here?"


No. Absolutely not. Jonny deserved the best out of everything because he wanted it that way and worked for it and fucking earned it. Patrick dove right for Jonny's hole, lube be damned.


"Crisse." Jonny swore just as Patrick's mouth was filled with Jonny and strawberries?


Jonny must have used flavored lube because he knew...was going to make Patrick do this...ugh Patrick moaned against Jonny's skin. He rushed to grip both hands on Jonny's thighs so he didn't so something stupid like touch himself.


"You're so hot for this Peeks." Jonny observed, breath airy. He scratched Patrick's scalp and gripped Patrick's hair.


Patrick tongue fucked Jonny's hole and lapped at his balls, sucked the crown of his dick and back again until his jaw was aching and his face was a fucking mess. Jonny's thighs quivered by the end and he kept muttering the hottest things. Like, fuck yeah just like that Peeks, gonna let you fuck me soon, promise, so hot when you're into it, fucking easier than a porn star.


Jonny pulled him off just as Patrick though either his jaw was going to lock or his dick would explode. Patrick looked at Jonny, waiting.


"Shit Peeks..." Jonny kept staring at Patrick and ran his thumb over his swollen mouth. "Go get the lube, its in the bathroom. Wipe your face too."


Patrick hopped right into action, quickly wiping his face on the towel on the counter and snatching the lube from the on suite. He scurried back in and knelt back between Jonny's thighs. Waiting.


"You're so fucking good at this Peeks. Crisse you don't even..." Jonnny cleared his throat. "Stretch me out a little more. I'll tell you when I'm good."


Patrick nodded obediently. He squirted the lube between his fingers and tried to warm it up a touch before smearing it onto Jonny's hole. He repeated the action with a little more and slid two fingers in at once. Everything smelled strongly of strawberries and sex and Patrick added his tongue to his fingers because his neck was too hot and his head was too fuzzy and his answer to that was to just keep moving. By the time he got the third in there, he was rubbing Jonny's prostate and groaning everytime Jonny's hips ground down on Patrick's hand.


When Patrick got it together enough to watch....Jonny had both hands pressed against the headboard but his eyes were watching Patrick, mouth open and panting, but eyes lazer focused.


Jonny smiled slowly. "You're pretty patient when you wanna be Peeks." Jonny commented. He patted the bed, "Come lay down."


Patrick gently pulled out his fingers. He had a moment, not wanting to be rude and wipe it on Jonny's sheets. Instead he sucked on his fingers, it was flavored lube anyway and nothing that wasn't already in Patrick's mouth.


Jonny shook his head, "Jesus Kaner, stop watching porn, you're ridiculous."


Patrick shrugged. He really didn't watch that much porn. They moved at the same time, Patrick laying down on the propped pillows Jonny left behind and Jonny, wet dream Jonny, swinging a leg over Patrick's thighs and fucking sitting on his groin.


"Fuckkk" Patrick groaned, nothing had touched his dick in like hours and then Jonny fucking touched it with firm heavy pressure.


"You gonna hold out for it, Peeks? Can you?" Jonny teased and rolled his hips foward and back again.


"You asshole, holy fuck." Patrick gripped Jonny's thighs and squeezed his eyes shut. Looking at Jonny wasn't helping.


Jonny chuckled and leaned off. It was a small kindness because moments later he was back and squirting stawberry lube into his hand which promptly and not very gently pumped Patrick's cock, and palmed the head. Patrick crunched like he'd been punched and opened his eyes to be greeted with Jonny's sociopathic smile.


"Don't fucking come until I've got mine." Jonny instructed firmly.


"Jonny." Patrick gasped, wanting to stall him to beg him for something... but Jonny just kept smirking, rising up on his powerful thighs and guiding Patrick's pulsing dick to his entrance--wet with lube and Patrick's fucking spit.


The first breach was a white out but Patrick had to watch, had to see Jonny sinking down. He was in control, always, but there were little flickers of how good it felt, how Patrick's thick dick made it easy for him to rub his prostate, especially if he angled his hips forward.


"Jonny." Patrick gasped again as Jonny sunk all the way down, "holy fuck, holy fuck."


"Shhhh. Calm down Peeks, just get me off and you can get yours."


Patrick whimpered. Focusing... was so difficult right now. Like, not coming was enough on his plate in his humble opinion.


Jonny fucked himself lazily on Patrick's dick. But he dirty-talked him hard and shameless.


"Such a thick dick Kaner--pretty much made to be some dude's toy I think." or "You're taking it so good Peeks, letting me get it first."


Patrick actually sobbed, broken because the stimulation, Jonny's...everything, and also he didn't want to fail.


Jonny leaned down. His height meant that he didn't have to pull off Patrick's dick at all to kiss him--filthy but also encouraging.


"So good Peeks. I'm gonna go harder, okay?"


Patrick nodded, grit his teeth and prayed.


Jonny used the power of his quads to fuck himself so hard his dick bounced. Patrick's hand twitched in desire to reach for it, to tug the foreskin back and pump it.


"Don't." Jonny warned. "I'll tell you when."


Patrick moaned. He felt his body flush deeper. When Jonny actually let him come, he thought maybe his dick would break from the force of it.


Jonny's harsh breaths and the squelching of where they were connected captured Patrick's attention for a few precious seconds. A few moments after that, Jonny groaned low and said, "Now Peeks, finish me off."


Patrick spurred into action. He fisted Jonny how he liked it and pumped, a little odd from his angle below. Jonny was sweating, a light sheen that made him look like a model. Closer still, Jonny shouted, fucked into Patrick's hand as much as Patrick's dick would allow and then came all over Patrick.


"Yeah." Jonny whispered as his hips slowed. "So fucking good, Peeks." Jonny rubbed his hands along Patrick's chest. He shivered and tightened a couple of times with what Patrick assumed were aftershocks. "How do you want to finish?"


Patrick whined and squeeze Jonny's hips tightly. "Fuck, Jonny, inside, can I? Is it too--" Patrick really couldn't with words. It felt like, it felt like Jonny was rewarding him. Letting him choose how to get off because he held out so good for Jonny. Such a fucking turn on.


"Course Peeks, but I can’t go hard." Jonny looked sad about that, like he would if he could.


"No, s'okay, 'm so close Jonny, let me--"


"Yeah, do it."


Patrick planted his feet on the mattress, impressive because Jonny was 200 pounds of fucking muscle and started pumping his hips in short strokes. Jonny hissed once but really it was maybe 4 or 5 pumps before Patrick's brain was coming out of his dick into Jonny's ass. Fuck. holy. fucking shit.


He could barely catch his breath. His calves were close to cramping because he fucking siezed when he came. And then Jonny was pulling off his dick making everything cold and unpleasant.


"Shit." Patrick growled at the same time Jonny barked, "fucking cheap flavored lube."


They both grumbled and muttered but eventually laid down side by side.


"I gotta fucking shower." Jonny wiped his face. Patrick didn't like the idea of that exactly. He shifted and tried to figure out how his after glow was slipping into something weird. "You okay, Peeks?" Jonny leaned up on one arm.


"Um, can you like--" Patrick shifted again uncomfortably. Jonny felt too far away. Like they were connected and sharing something that felt huge and amazing two seconds ago and now Jonny was going to leave and shower. Like, Patrick's stomach rolled. "I dunno, kiss me?"


Jonny kept staring, his sharp gaze taking in details that Patrick was sure he wouldn't even notice. Maybe Jonny was gonna chirp him, say that Peeks was such a girl for wanting to cuddle after. But he did, actually. He felt...untethered, which was too profound a feeling for after a very good fuck.


"Sorry, I'm being fucking werid." Parick's hands were shaking. Him and Jonny seemed to notice it at the same time.


"No peeks, it's normal. It's fine." Jonny shoved himself up against Patrick and wrapped his arms around him and started kissing him nice and deep and slow. That was much better. The impending nausea started receding and Patrick felt himself sigh into Jonny's mouth in relief.


Fuck...maybe Jonny could cure cancer with his kiss damsels in distress awake like all the prince charmings.


Jonny moved so that he was basically laying his full weight on top of Patrick, rested only on the forearm position to the left of Patrick's head. "Feeling better?"


Patrick nodded. "That was fucked bad."


"Shut up Kaner. It's expected. I should have... you're more sensitive to it I think.”


Patrick scrunched his eyebrows. He had questions, he was sure of it.


"I'll explain later. Come shower with me."


And yes... that was good, Patrick's dick had drying lube on it.


In the morning, over breakfast, Patrick had the good sense to ask about the night before. The weird feeling he had gotton after was so disturbing that remembering it made his stomach turn.


"So, I feel like you know what happened. Before." Patrick asked between mouthfuls of spinach omelet. They didn't have practice until the afternoon and Jonny had cooked which meant Patrick was well slept, recently orgasamed, and well-fed and had time to start putting the puzzle pieces together.


Jonny sighed and set down his fork. He turned the T.V. on mute and fixed this certain stare on Patrick. Patrick hadn't managed to label it yet but it basically meant--alright, i'm gonna lay some shit on you and you have to focus really hard because its important.


"I think you were in something called sub-space." Patrick opened his mouth to let all of the words and questions aggressively tumble out, but Jonny cut him off by saying, "It happens when people play with the power dynamics during sex. Its the D/S in BDSM if you want to google it or whatever."


"Wait. wait." Contrary to apparently Jonny's belief, Patrick knew what kink was, okay, he just hadn't gotton around to trying it. "Have you been domming me without explicit permission bro? That's messed up."


"Why, have I done anything you haven't liked?"


"Hey! That is not a valid counter argument! Shouldn't we have, like--" Patrick racked his brain for the appropriate language. His cousin was doing an Anthropology capstone on the BDSM community in Pittsburg. "Like, checks and balances or something?"


"A safe word?" Jonny supplied haughtily. "I didn't think we were straying that far from vanilla stuff but..." Jonny glanced away guilty. "Last night you were a little out of it."


"Um yeah... I was all needy and weird!" Patrick exclaimed, suddenly very ashamed of the way he acted, now that he thought about it in the light of day.


"No." Jonny growled fiercely, "you weren't weird. It was my fault. I shouldn't have--" He huffed. "Look, I've tried this stuff with girls before, a little, but you're the only person that I've pushed the envelope with so I'm still figuring shit out."


"Okay." Patrick breathed, "But I’m not a fucking a sex doll, dude. Like, bring me in on the convos you're clearly having with yourself."


"I know, you're right." Jonny agreed quickly.


Patrick took another bite of his omelet, letting his thoughts go over the sex he had with Jonny. He wondered how much of it would be classified as non-vanilla to someone who knew what they were looking for. He wondered mainly how long Jonny was thinking of it that way, how long before he was going to loop Patrick in. It was unsettling, very un bro-like to think that Jonny was trying things and didn’t even think he should fucking tell Patrick about it.


"Look." Jonny interrupted his thoughts, his face firm and serious. "I'll understand if you want to stop or pause shit. I know that I shouldn't have..." Jonny trailed off. He looked lost and a little sick, frankly.


Patrick chewed, considering that. He didn't really want to stop having sex with Jonny. But he was still mad that he was low-key trying kink without his consent.


"It wasn't right that you thought you could like, keep practicing your dommy skills without me knowing about it."


Jonny nodded shakily, "I know."


"Okay. Then no, I don't need to break or whatever. We can keep trying shit out. I mean, obviously I like it. But, don't fucking leave me in the dark about shit."


"I won't." And Jonny whispered softer again, "I won't Peeks, I promise."




Patrick pulled out his phone and after a minute he heard Jonny un-mute the T.V. He started googling sub-space and kink lists and how to start BDSM. The internet was filled with too much shit, it was overwhelming. So he texted Leah instead and asked her to give him some links about BDSM because he was interested but wanted to do it safely, thank you very much.


She responded back quickly, Oh my god yes, yes, where do I even start and then said she'd send three links to his email.


Good. That handled, he started thinking about practice, what he needed to work on. The coaches were still working on his and Jonny's line chemistry, trying to get it right. Jonny always said that if Patrick stopped being cocky, he'd be able to actually improve their flow. Patrick stood to reason that if Jonny loosened up a bit, started getting more creative, THEN their flow would be perfect.


"Peeks." Jonny called. Patrick looked up and noticed that Jonny was standing in front of him, hand outstretched. "I can take your plate if you're done."


"Uh... yeah. Thanks."


Jonny quirked the side of his mouth up--maybe somewhere it was considered a smile? A small one for sure. "Thank you too. I mean, you know, for giving me another shot."


Patrick grinned widely, "Water under the bridge dude. But you're cooking the next two weeks."


Jonny nodded complacently and walked toward the kitchen.





The problem was, they never talked about it and they didn’t have sex either. As trivial as it sounded, 5 days went by without so much as a blowjob. Patrick hadn’t noticed how much sex they were having until there was apparently a full stop hold.


They were set to get on the road that night and Patrick was enough of a low-life to corner Jonny in their hotel room.


They had decided pretty early on that sex on the road would be kept to a minimum. 1. Because they had to focus on their jobs and 2. Because of privacy and the fucking prank masters (i.e. Sharpey and Seabs).


“Have you just decided to lock up your Dom dick or what?” Patrick asked as they stripped out of their clothes.


Jonny’s eyes widened and then slanted with anger. “No.”


“Then why haven’t we fucked this whole week?” Patrick demanded.


“It’s been four days you fucker. I’m trying to give you a little space, jesus.” Jonny grouched, arms crossed over his bare chest.


“I don’t want space, I want orgasms.” Patrick stomped over to his bed and sat with his legs folded underneath him. “So. We need to have like a dos and don’ts talk about kinky sex. Make our boundaries clear and shit.”


“Right now?”


“Yeah.” Patrick smiled.


“Fine.” Jonny grumbled and didn’t bother putting sweats over his black boxer briefs.


They looked at each other in silence for nearly 30 seconds.


“So…” Patrick prompted.


“You started this conversation, Kaner. You didn’t have a fucking agenda.”


Patrick smiled cheekily. “Um…not really. That opener was all I had planned.”


Jonny rolled his eyes and reached for his phone on the bedside table. He silently thumbed the screen. “Alright, I’m sending you a kink sheet. Answer the questions on your own and then we’ll compare after.”


“Kay.” Patrick waited for his email to ding and then pulled out his tablet to look at it. He settled back against the headboard. As he got into his email, he glanced over at Jonny who was decidedly not doing his own worksheet over there.


“Are you just going to make me do this?” Patrick questioned.


Jonny shook his head and looked up from packing his bag. “Mine is already filled out. I’ll send it to you after you do yours.”


“Over achiever.” Patrick mumbled. But then he was totally absorbed in a very extensive kink sheet that included things that he had to google on his phone. Like, golden showers and wax play and sounding.


It took him an hour.


When he was finished he sent it to Jonny’s email. Thought for a second how screwed they would be if they were ever hacked but shrugged his shoulders.


“What now?” Patrick asked after skimming over Jonny’s list. Nothing on there surprised him at all. A lot of maybes and in the future. He hadn’t wanted to do any of the spanking or ‘impact play’. He’d be into bondage, but it wasn’t a deal breaker.


“We should discuss safewords.” Jonny was still looking at Patrick’s list.


“Seriously? We aren’t gonna do any of the scary shit. How about I say ‘stop that asshole’ and you listen.”


Jonny raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him. “We should have some kind of signal, I think.”


“You’ll know if I want you to stop.” Patrick stood up and stretched. He couldn’t explain it exactly, but a safeword felt a little…formal, official. He liked the laid back way they were trying things out. He liked that it felt intimate that it felt natural almost. It was hard to find the words.


Jonny clearly did not agree with him on this point. But, maybe he was still feeling chastised from their conversation earlier in the week, because he just nodded.


Also, he agreed to exchange blow jobs even though they were on the road.





It was a bad game. Passes weren't connecting and bad calls kept their line a man down. Jonny was in his head by the second period and Patrick had been thrown from before that because he left his lucky half dollar in his travel duffel at the hotel. Plus, Sharpy and Abby had fought and Dunc's stick snapped at the end of the first.


Patrick really hated the Bruins sometimes. Also—February was killing his soul. How? How did guys make it through post-season, let alone the regular season?


All in all, Patrick couldn't blame Jonny for fuming on the bus ride home and marching straight to his room when they got back to the apartment. Patrick figured that was fair. Except... He didn't handle stress that way. He needed someone else. Someone to hash it out with, someone to fight with even. Hell, someone to fuck it out of his system. Patrick stewed on the couch, the T.V.'s blank screen glaring at him.


Just when he had worked himself down to the point of calling one of the boys or even one of his sisters, Jonny shuffled into the open kitchen, head down and ignoring Patrick entirely. It stung and angered Patrick all at once.


Patrick opened his mouth to speak, to pick an argument. But stopped himself in time. What was he really mad at Jonny about? Not attending to his needs? Jonny could barely handle his own. Patrick sighed and tilted his head back, closing his eyes to the ceiling. He was better than this. He was better than the moisture tickling the rim of his eyes. He just... he was still figuring out his process for this stuff. For the part of the work when you sucked so hard you had to fall back on pre-determined routines so that you didn't get in a slump and pouty and moody and generally self-destructive. A ritual, like how he had with the boys on the KNIGHTS. Pizza, two beers, and some shitty action movie or sometimes a funny kids movie.


Jonny's hand on his arm startled him. "You okay, dude?"


Patrick looked at him for a long moment, saw the tightness around his mouth. He wanted to be a better person that could put another person's needs above his own but... he definitely wasn't. "Not really." He answered, "I'm trying to figure out how to not be so pathetic right now."


Jonny snorted, "Same."


His thumb started digging into Patrick's shoulder, rubbing up his neck, running firmly to the base of his skull. Patrick groaned body thrumming with the need to do something. "Hey, can I suck your cock?"


Jonny's hand stopped, "Why?"


Why? Patrick arched an eyebrow incredulously, "Um... it'll make me feel better?"


"How does sucking cock make you feel better?"


"I dunno, sometimes I can like, clear my mind. Not think about shit. I guess I should really say can you fuck my mouth, that works best actually." Patrick rubbed a hand over his eyes, getting oddly irritated and restless. Maybe he should just go to bed.


"Patrick." Jonny's stern voice and use of his full name demanded Patrick's attention, "There's something I did want to try, it was on my kink list. I think it'll help. But, I want you to say yes because you're interested not just because you want to not think about things for 10 minutes."


"What is it?"


Jonny scratched the back of his neck absently, he did that when he was thinking, "Edging."


"I don't think I could, like focus that hard right now."


"No I mean," Jonny huffed, "I mean, if I edged you."


Patrick blinked, mind calling up videos he had watched in passing. They definitely got him hot but he never fully imagined himself being on the receiving end of something like that. But then, the idea of just lying there and letting Jonny take him there, get him all frustrated and worked up... yeah, that could work. "Okay, yeah. But like, I don't want to not come, sometimes people leave--"


"No, Pat, no I wouldn't do that to you. You put that as a hard no on your list."


"Sweet." Patrick quirked his mouth, a memory passing through his mind from that hotel room months ago. What would have happened if Patrick never went back for that shaving kit. "Almost full circle."


Jonny's brow furrowed but then smoothed over with understanding, "Yeah, kinda." He smiled encouragingly and stood up. "Come on, Pat, Let's strip down and get you on my bed."


Patrick nodded, hands tugging his sweatshirt off over his head, taking his shirt with it. He glanced over at Jonny who was watching him curiously.




Jonny pressed his lips together, "Its just, I didn't mean..." He hesitated, "Nothing. I was just thinking. Finish what you're doing, I'm going to get the bed ready."


Patrick nodded, too wound up or too tired to try and decipher Jonny’s Jonnyness. He left his clothes in a pool on the couch seat and, naked as the day he was born, wandered down the hall to Jonny's room.


Jonny had.... lit some candles and put the lamp that was usually on his nightstand over on his dresser. He was also stripped down to those damn black briefs. Jonny motioned for him to lie down. Once his head hit the pillow he started to feel better. Jonny was going to do whatever he was going to do and Patrick didn't have to think about it at all.


Lube in hand, Jonny crawled over Patrick and lay on his side beside him, one beef arm resting just above Patrick's head. Jonny left the lube bottle somewhere between their bodies because he had a free hand and it ran soothing strokes from Patrick's abs, over his chest, and back again. Patrick didn't remember closing his eyes. But when Jonny's lips parted his own he was taken aback by it at first. But then it was nice, so fucking nice, to just give it up to Jonny, let him have whatever he wanted.


"Bend your knee." Jonny instructed, mouth so close to Patrick's. Patrick bent the leg that Jonny pushed at, feeling the air from the room pass over his exposed balls and cock. Jonny's hand came next, wet and warm and teasing, soft strokes around his balls, a little squeeze at the base and a loose hand up the shaft and around the head. Patrick moaned when Jonny thumbed the slit and whimpered when he did it again, and again, and again.


"Fuck Jonny."


"Shhh." Jonny hushed. His thumb circled Patrick's crown, pressing around the sensitive glands and making Patrick's hips jerk.


Time started slipping after that. He couldn't tell if it was a few minutes or twenty. But Jonny just kept stroking him, sometimes firm and tight like he was going to let Patrick come but then he'd go soft and feather light to bring Patrick back from the edge. He also sucked the shit out his nipples, made them aching and sore because he kept nipping at them and rolling them with his teeth. Jonny said things, soothing things, and at one awful point kissed the edges of Patrick's eyes and Patrick tasted saltiness when Jonny kissed him right after.


It was too much. And kind of perfect.


"You look so fucking hot right now. Your dick is the reddest I've ever seen it. Does it hurt?"


Patrick licked his lips, "Need it, Jonny, I'm so... I need you--"


"I know Pat, calm down." Jonny scratched his nails over Patrick's balls and he whimpered. "You'd look so good with a cock ring. You've got the perfect cock for it." Jonny dragged the tip of his pointer finger up Patrick's shaft and around the head.


"Nnn, I can't Jonny, I can't, please." Patrick begged. But he didn't try and reach for himself, he knew not to do that. But Jonny could give him relief and Jonny would, he said he would, if Patrick was good and held out. But it was so hard, he was so hard and he just needed...


"You're doing so fucking good Pat." Jonny whispered. And to his horror, Patrick felt Jonny's finger, wet with lube, circle his hole.


"No, no, Jonny I can't--"


"You can Pat, you know you'll like it." Jonny readjusted Patrick's bent knee and with little warning after that, slotted his finger inside. Patrick keened, neck arching off the pillow. He couldn't handle the stretch, the added stimulation he was already so close, wavering.


Patrick panted and moaned and whimpered like a whore when Jonny added a second. Jonny was kind enough to make it burn. Patrick needed the little edge of pain to keep his orgasm at bay.


"Fuck Pat, you're feeling good, aren't you?"


Patrick whined, delirious with his need to come, "Jonny please!"


"Okay Pat, okay, you can come whenever okay? Whenever you need to." Jonny started circled his prostate, firm punishing circles that made Patrick's body shake and his chest arch.


Even when he hissed and shivered, Jonny didn't let up, just kept rubbing, sometimes tapping. Patrick was gasping, his eyes were definitely watering and there was one moment of clarity when he realized that Jonny was going to make him come like this. That Patrick was going to have to hump Jonny's hand like a dog in heat to get off because Jonny wasn't going to touch his cock. The thought alone was almost enough but then, Jonny fucking surged up and fastened his mouth over one of Patrick's nipples. Sore from before, Patrick didn't stand a chance when Jonny took one between his teeth and bit down. Patrick screamed and his body seized and honestly, blacked out a little but he was coming so fucking hard. Ropes and ropes of come that were literally shooting from his dick. And then Jonny was there stroking up to finish, touching his super sensitive fucking cock with his non dominant hand and making it hurt just enough that he milked a few more smaller squirts from him.


Patrick blinked his eyes open to see Jonny pumping his dick over Patrick's abs.


"No, Jonny, lemme--"


"Shh" Patrick watched the dribbles of pre-come spill over the head of his very hard cock. "I'm good, just... keep looking like a fucked out slut."


Oh. That was hot. In a way that shouldn't be hot to someone who just had an orgasm to end all orgasms.


"But," Patrick whined, "Let me eat your come at least."


"F-Fuck." Jonny stuttered, and then knee walked up so that he was pumping his cock over Patrick's face. Patrick loved this, loved the slutiness of it and how hot Jonny got. Before he could think too much about whether Jonny would mind him tonguing the slit, Jonny was cursing in French, shuddering all over and splashing come over Patrick's nose, open mouth, tongue and chin. Patrick waited, knew that Jonny liked to just look at him for a minute. "So fucking hot Pat, like you're such a natural whore for it."


Patrick shivered and opened his eyes blearily. Could he...?


"Yeah." Jonny said sitting back on his hunches. "I wanna watch you eat it."


Patrick swallowed, and made show of licking his lips. Jonny, fucking Jonny, scooped some of the come from Patrick's chin and nose cheeks and shoveled it in his mouth with two fingers. Patrick moaned, incredibly turned on, and sucked.


"Tabernak cule you were born to make porn."


Patrick smiled goofily, "I'm so much better than porn."


"Yeah." Jonny agreed easily. Hah. Edging orgasms made him loopy too!


Later, when Patrick was kinda high and sleepy and pleasantly wrapped up in Jonny's bed, and properly hydrated, and warned extensively about endorphins and endorphin drop and how sometimes people felt a little weird after (and Patrick had mumbled something about being a professional athlete and knowing about how endorphins work, asshole) and that he had to communicate things, especially if something felt weird... Patrick was pleased to find that Jonny was returning to bed with his laptop. But he was also looking shy and guilty as fuck.






Jonny rubbed the back of his neck, eyes so forlorn he looked like he actually killed a puppy. "Um, I kinda... did something."


"Okay. Did you kill a puppy or what?"


"No! Fuck you Kaner, like seriously, I did something that's... not okay and its something that I know you can be pissed about, but I want you to know that it doesn't--- I mean--"


"What did you do?" Patrick scrunched his eyebrows, a little annoyed that the glorious afterglow he was feeling was starting to fray around the edges. "You don't have like an STD or something, right?"


Jonny looked horrified and deeply offended, "Dude. No. What the fuck, I'd never--"


"Then what, bro?"


"I kinda-filmed-us-while-we-were-doing-our-thing-just-now-I'm-really-fucking-sorry-seriously-fuck."


Uhhhh..."Wait, like, you videotaped all that?" That was so hot, Patrick always wondered what his O face looked like.


Jonny bit the inside of his cheek and nodded, "I don't know what I was… I just, look we can delete it right now if you want. Like I can do that right now, I should have done it before but I wanted to prove to you that I was doing it so that's why, I'm sorry Patrick that was so fucking--"


"Lemme watch it!" Patrick interrupted gleefully. Jonny definitely should have told him, and not been shady and shit, but he guessed right so Patrick would only give him a little shit. Like bring it up tomorrow and watch Jonny hang his head and then Patrick would make him pay for breakfast for three days.




"Fuck yeah, I wanna see my o-face. I wanna see YOUR o-face." Patrick hummed excitedly and slid closer to Jonny, rubbing his cheek on his shoulder.


"Okay, yeah." Jonny pulled up the window on his computer and with just a little nervous glance at Patrick, pressed play. The camera was set on the dresser against the wall that was facing them—so it got their profiles. Suddenly it made sense why Jonny had stayed to Patrick’s side to finger him.


First off..."We're so fucking hot." Patrick watched, dazed, as Jonny kissed him, teased him, spewed dirty talk that had Patrick's eyes squeezing and opening, his mouth panting and open. And Jonny. Fucking Jonny's cock was a thing of legend, a beautiful thing that should be written into ancient song. His hands too.


"Did you like that?" Jonny asked seriously about the fucking ache job he was doing to Patrick's nipples in the video.


Patrick nodded fervently and then they were off--analyzing the video like game tape. Commenting and sometimes rewinding when they wanted to show the other some exact thing. Patrick explained that he loved when Jonny just went to town, made all the decisions, it got him out of his head. Jonny said he was a little nervous at points, scared by how much he was pushing Patrick--he said that about the part when he was slotting his finger inside. When Patrick had clearly said no, but also said yes? Because he was grinding his hips and generally looking totally fucked out.


"You said no, but I knew, well, I thought--"


"No, no, it was good. Don't. It was exactly what I wanted I just, the no wasn't really a no--fuck that sounds so fucked up." Patrick struggled.


"This is why we need a safeword Patrick."


That could be good, Patrick thought. Because looking back, watching the tape, he wanted Jonny to do all the things he did and honestly, more. "I see that. Cuz like, I would have been down for you to stick your dick in me."


Jonny paused the tape "After your orgasm?"


Patrick shrugged, "I mean I think in the moment I would have said no, but not like, no, no, you know?"


"Yeah." Jonny responded, head shaking and smiling and then a few seconds later said, "I need to get you nipple clamps. Dude, you'd be a mess." They both watched as (videotapped Jonny) dove for Patrick's nipples, abs just brushing Patricks’s dick and Patrick literally shot his load everywhere.


"What are those?" Patrick asked curiously. He thought he knew, based on information here and there and the actual name.


"Holy fuck, wait, lemme get them up."


Jonny furiously googled and then pulled up google images and some videos and....Yes. That. Patrick would probably cry, but he imagined the constant pressure, the nip of metal even, the way he always thought getting them pierced would feel but never got the chance to know because of hockey.


"Jonny" Patrick whimpered, "I want you to fuck me."


Jonny looked over, hand hovered over his Amazon Prime cart. "Yeah?" He pulled down the blankets and saw Patrick's renewed hard-on.


"Yeah, and don't stretch me more, I want it to burn a little and also... I'll say... penalty if I want you stop."


"You are a total, fucking, shithead." Jonny was smiling though, hand already grabbing for the lube.


"What? That's no where near stop or no or whatever. That's perfect."


Jonny was good and pushed the blankets and sheets away.


"You need some more lube." Jonny explained when two of his wet fingers grazed over Patrick's hole and then returned to shove more slick inside. Patrick watched everything hungrily, eyes tracking as Jonny slicked up his own cock. Before he was done, Patrick reached around to the back of his legs and pulled them up to his chest.


"Make it hurt a little." He instructed in a soft voice, "I mean, like, really do me."


Jonny positioned himself between Patrick's groin, eyes serious, "Penalty, okay? Say it if you need it."


Patrick nodded vigorously and then watched a little nervous and lot excited as Jonny just lined up his dick. His huge fucking beast of a dick.




"Shh." The head of Jonny's cock popped into Patrick's wet hole, stretching and burning and generally adding all this sensation that Patrick actually whimpered and squeezed at Jonny's shoulders. But Jonny didn't go slow--he didn't slam in, either, that probably would have been bad. But he just pushed on, through Patrick's little hisses and whimpers and "oh fuck shits". And then, without any sweet nothings, or gentle stroking, or check-ins, he started fucking Patrick. Like shoving his cock in hard and deep, making Patrick yelp and his body push up on the bed.


It hurt. But it also kinda made it feel like Patrick would fly apart, like he would shatter into a million pieces if Jonny kept fucking him this rough and this good. Patrick shivered, his tongue thickly whining, "Jonny it's too much."


"I know Pat, but take it for me." Jonny kept pounding him, huge fucking dick stretching him, hammering over his already sensitive prostate and pushing him to another level entirely.


But Jonny's fingers were locked with his own and then his mouth was fucking Patrick's, and suddenly it was taking him higher than even his orgasm had. "Jonny, I need, I can't--"


Jonny owned his ass. Fucking reamed it. Probably as hard as he ever had. So Patrick was a little surprised when he let up a bit and looked down, body shining with sweat, both of them panting like they did when they just skated a shift. "Wanna watch you come on my dick Peeks" He snatched his hips forward to prove his point. Patrick gasped, body thrumming.


"Jonny, I need you, tell me..." Patrick panted. Fuck language. Fuck language so hard, when was the human species going to figure out telepathy?


"What? Tell you what a slut you are? How fucking good you are at taking cock because you're so easy for anything. For pussy and for dick and for anything anyone wants to do to you?"


And yesssss. Yes. Yes. Patrick moaned, high and needy body getting flooded again with those endorphins. So good, it was so so good.


"I could probably fuck you all night and you'd just keep begging for it, wanting it, even when you were sore and hurting."


Patrick gasped, body tightening. He could see that, see just being kept naked and ready for Jonny's dick whenever Jonny wanted to use him. He came thinking of that, hand on his cock, feeling Jonny brutalizing his hole and imagining him doing it all day and night. He didn't shoot off like before, not enough come in the tank, but there was a surprising amount that spilled over his dick.


And then Jonny was groaning and slamming deep and coming inside of Patrick's ass.


They both couldn't really breath for a while. Patrick was floaty and dazed and seemingly fucked out of his mind. But that was okay because Jonny was only fractionally better. His mouth never stopping its flattering comments, its open mouth kisses.




One of the last lessons that Patrick taught Jonny was how to pick up other athletes. How to tell if they might be down or not. Patrick advised Jonny that he should go for guys that are also closest so that they have something to lose too.


“That guy?” Jonny asked one night after what was one of their last games of the season.


Patrick glanced over at Seguin and chuckled. “Yeah, he’s definitely down. Good eye.”


Jonny nodded.


“Gonna go for it?” Patrick asked. A little thrown by the feeling in his throat about it. Maybe because that would really mark the end of the year. Him and Jonny had kinda been barreling through the season and it seemed like the summer was going to be a natural end for…whatever they had going on.


“Nah. Not my type.” Jonny shrugged. He scrubbed the towel through his wet hair—spiking it up and making him look even younger then 20 years old.


Patrick rolled his eyes. “Second lesson. Don’t be so picky dude.”


Sharpy walked behind them just as Patrick spoke. He snorted, “That’s like telling water not to be wet.” Patrick laughed and elbowed his ribs. “What’s Toews being picky about now?”


“Dinner. You coming?” Patrick answered smoothing.


“Nah. Got to get back to the wife.” He smiled and patted both of them on the back.




They didn’t renew their lease for the next year. Jonny wanted an echo-friendly, high architecture place that was close to the rink. Patrick wanted to live in something upscale and downtown.


Their apartment didn’t have much in it—not having had time to add more than those initial ikea splurges.


“You want the couch?” Jonny asked.


Patrick laughed into his hand. “I’ve got plenty with your DNA on it, dude.”


“If I get rid of the couch, you have to deal with the dinning room table.”


“Fair deal, bro.” Patrick was going to craigslist that shit and wouldn’t have to lift a finger.


Patrick went to grab two beers out of the fridge, intending to initiate one last tribute fuck on the couch. As he closed the door, he reminded himself to take all the shit off the refrigerator before they left. He scanned it over—a couple of cards from their moms, take out menus, and… Patrick smiled.


“Hey!” He called to Jonny.


“What?” Jonny appeared behind him, elbows leaning on the island.


“First, wanna fuck one last time on the couch? And, remember these?” Patrick ran his finger along their fortunes. “Your ability for accomplishment will follow with success” He made his voice deeper and more profound sounding. “Oh, and, You will be successful in love.”


Jonny smiled back at him. “Been a hell of a year, huh?”


Patrick looked suggestively from Jonny’s broad shoulder to his hands. “Not over yet, dude.” Patrick grinned.

Chapter Text

2009-2010 Season

When Patrick got back from the summer, he felt loose and young and excited to get back to work.  There were maybe more incriminating photos of him than his agent and the front office would have liked, but he didn't regret being in his 20s and having some fun.  His mom already abashed him enough.  At the end of it though she agreed, he traded his teenage years and his 20s for hockey and sometimes it was fine if he tried to get a little of it back.  Just not so documented...maybe.


He'd slept with girls--more than a few.  And although there were some nights that he thought he'd like to pick up a dude, there weren't any that tempted him when he went out scoping and even some old buddies that Patrick thought might be down didn't get him going.


Girls were good.  Girls were fun, soft, sharp tongued and well... boobs.  Though Patrick considered himself an ass man more than anything, there was nothing quite like watching a pretty girl's tits bounce while they fucked.


Jonny and him texted throughout the summer.  Not everyday or anything but here and there.  Jonny always managed to get a good chuckle out of Patrick anyway.  Enough so that the sharp spy eyes of his sister noticed.


"Who are you texting?"  Jackie asked after dinner one night.


"Just Jonny."  Patrick answered between laughs.  Jonny texted him a video of him wake surfing and then his brother David sent him the outtakes with a message: his pride is so fragile he tried to kill me for these.


Patrick replied to Jonny's text with: Form needs work, bro


And Jonny responded: Fuck you, you fucking try that shit asshole.


When Patrick looked back up both Jackie and Erica were watching him closely.




"Nothing."  They said in sing-song unison and walked off murmuring to each other in some secret sister language that Patrick could never decipher.




When Patrick got back to Chicago he wasn't at all surprised to discover that Jonny had done some hooking up of his own.


Well.. more like a couple of guys and one in particular that he was still texting. Freak.


What did surprise Patrick was that Jonny hadn't really mentioned it.  He skidded around the edges of it over the summer but never divulged. He told him that he had come out to his parents and David, that some of his friends knew too and that he was picking up but...the details never came.  Something about that nagged Patrick a little.  Nagged him enough that he asked on their first pre-season game in Philly.  They were going to be road roommates for the next 5 years until they could negotiate for single rooms.  Patrick didn't mind, there was familiarity in the routine.


"How come you never told me about your summer fling?" Patrick was finicking with the pillows before their pre-game nap and trying to sound as casual as he meant it.  He imagined that Jonny might misinterpret his question if he wasn't careful about his tone.  Patrick wasn't like, jealous or anything. He was... well scared, actually, that touching Jonny's dick meant that they couldn't be close friends too.


"Uh." Jonny stalled and when Patrick looked back at him he gulped and looked away, "I dunno, wasn't sure you'd be interested."


"Why? Cuz it's not hockey related?"


"No."  Jonny answered slowly, "Because..." He stuttered to a stop and Patrick could see as clearly as if Jonny has said it aloud that Jonny thought Patrick would be uncomfortable by it.  And not like, in a jealous ex-lover way.  In a homophobic asshole way.


"Dude. Fuck you. I'm not some jerk that touches someone’s dick and then pretends to think gay shit is gross."  Patrick spit, genuinely angry, actually.  He sort of surprised himself with how hurt he actually was and Jonny seemed surprised too because he didn't say anything until Patrick was getting into bed and setting his alarm.


"Sorry Kaner."  Jonny mumbled. "I didn't, I wasn't... I just figured it was better to be on the safe side is all."


Patrick sighed, "It's fine." And then, because maturity was still something of a life goal of Patrick's, he shut his eyes and turned his back on Jonny.


The flyers could suck Patrick's dick.  Fucking refs.  Fucking Philly fans.  Fucking 2 game loss. Patrick used to like the color orange.


When they got on the flight home, Jonny collapsed in the seat next to Patrick's. They didn't say anything until the plane was in the air and even then they both weren't inclined to talk.  A few minutes after the seat belt light went off though, Jonny turned to Patrick, "I know you're pissed but I'm glad you said something."


Patrick continued to bite at his lower lip but he looked over at Jonny too, "Yeah?"


Jonny nodded, "I want us to be cool... I'm always thinking about how much is too much with friends and family and shit.  Like, at what point will things be weird or whatever."


"Okay." Patrick nodded, realizing that he probably should have not been a selfish ass about the whole thing.  He still liked pussy.  Jonny couldn't say the same.  And maybe it would hurt more if Jonny tried to be all in with a friend and then they freaked out when Jonny’s sexuality became more than an abstract thing.


Patrick was tired and dejected for reasons other than Jonny. But maybe Jonny felt insecure because he hurriedly added, "We met on a charity thing I did when I popped back here to buy my place."


Patrick smiled softly at Jonny--too exhausted to give it full energy. "Age?"


Jonny rested back against the seat, "21."




"Uh, student? But, uh, nursing.  I was at the Children's hospital thing." Jonny fiddled with his phone and then passed it over to Patrick.


It was a zoomed in shot of Jonny taking a picture with some hospital staff and kids and there's one guy standing next to Jonny that, Patrick will admit, was fucking smoking.


Patrick whistled. "Never thought I'd approve of your taste in anything."


Jonny smiled and nudged his knee against Patrick's, "I have excellent taste."  He added smugly and leaned his neck back with his eyes closed.


"No you don't dude."  Patrick motioned to himself, "Case and point."


Jonny eyed him. "You have your moments, Kaner."


It was so genuine that Patrick couldn't even chirp him back. Just held up a fist and said, "Thanks, bro."




As far as Patrick could tell, Jonny never settled down with the nursing student.  He didn't hide the information when Patrick would ask after it, but he barely ever offered either.  Patrick didn't know if that was typical of Jonny or if he was still testing the waters on what his friendship with Patrick would take.


So, Patrick felt caught off-guard when Jonny abruptly asked, "Have you ever liked the idea of being choked?"


Patrick sputtered with the Gatorade sip he had tried to take, "What the fuck?"


Jonny shrugged, "It was something that... came up recently."  Jonny's mouth twisted and he mumbled, "You're the only one I feel like I can talk to about this shit."


Patrick exhaled, "How'd it come up?"


"Dude I was with. He, uh, asked for it during and I hadn't really thought of it."


"Did it get you hot?" Patrick hedged, because Jonny was already doing some weird shuffle dance that typically indicated guilt.  I.e. splurged on macros two days in a row.


"Kinda." Jonny licked his lips as he sat on the edge of the bed, "But not all the way, you know?  Like, just kinda holding someone down with my hand there."


Patrick imagined the scene.  Not having seen this dude, he imagined himself instead.  Rough sex was something both he and Jonny enjoyed and Patrick didn't have any hang ups when it came to choking on cock.  He pictured Jonny drilling into him, pounding him, pinning him with his body.  He thought about Jonny grasping him by the throat, squeezing--not to seriously restrict airflow but to show that he could, that Patrick was so fucked up with it that he'd let him. Yeah...


"It's hot dude. I mean, your way. I don't think I could fight the urge to try and get you off me if I really couldn't breathe."


Jonny nodded.


Patrick shifted, his sweats doing little to mask the fact that--no surprise--Patrick was hard. He basically did a visual exercise in getting fucked, who could blame him?  But Patrick did blame Jonny and since he readily admitted just seconds earlier that he was casually fucking people... He had better help a bro out.


"Dude. Not cool."


Jonny's head snapped up and Patrick winced at the wording.  Jonny was still skittish about the whole is this too gay shit. But he quickly took in Patrick's posture, his spread legs, the leer on his face. "Are you fucking kidding, Kaner?"


"Come on, show me how'd you do it. You can't just get a dude thinking about getting it from you and then leave him hanging."  Well, technically Jonny could, that was like the whole basis of consent. But that wasn't the point here.


Jonny didn't even fight it any harder.  He focused his eyes, quirked his mouth into that smug grin and stood in front of Patrick, forcing him to crane his neck to look up. His hand bolted out to grip Patrick by the throat and Patrick could feel the vibrations of his whine run along Jonny's palm.  It made his eyes flutter.

"Sometimes I wonder if I could fucking talk you into an orgasm. You're so fucking greedy for it."  Jonny squeezed, letting Patrick really feel it. Patrick would have said something to that, but he couldn't really with Jonny's hand around his throat and that caused Patrick to roll his hips. 


"Get your dick out."  Jonny demanded.


Patrick fumbled as he reached inside his sweats, struggling to push is briefs and sweats down far enough so that Jonny could see.


"Yeah, now work it.  Dry like that, don't go easy."


Patrick groaned. He tugged on his cock, wincing at the friction, panting at how good it felt anyway, or because of it. Jonny held onto his throat but his eyes tracked Patrick's movements.


"Wonder what it's gonna feel like when you come.  You're always loud." 


Patrick shuddered, still working himself.  He collected the precome leaking out of his slit and tried to convince himself it was actually getting his dick wet enough.


"It's getting kinda red, Peeks."  Jonny observed cruelly,  "I like how it looks like that."


Patrick wasn't going to last to begin with, but definitely couldn't begin to try when Jonny started licking into Patrick's mouth--hand still secured around his throat. Between plunges of tongue, Jonny said filthy things against Patrick's mouth, "Such a whore throat. Fucking slut. Wonder what you'd look like gagging on my cock with a dildo in your ass. Wonder how many times I'd have to fuck your throat raw before you have no voice left at all."


Patrick came all over his sweats.  He was shivering and moaning and thankful that it was all muffled by Jonny's tight hold on his throat.


"Don't stop touching yourself until I've got mine."  Jonny growled.


Patrick whimpered, dick over sensitive and twitching.


"I'm serious Kaner."  Jonny shoved his cock into Patrick's mouth, getting it wet enough to help him pump what got left outside.  He collected all the spit from where it leaked from the corners of Patrick mouth.  He didn’t take long either.  But it felt like it did because Patrick's eyes were watering with the pain of touching his dick after he'd come.


"That's it, that it."  Jonny cooed.  Patrick heaved in air and collapsed back on the bed.


"Shit Tazer." His voice did sound scratchy.


Jonny kissed his face, the corner of his eyes, brushing light fingers along the column of his throat and whispered nice things until Patrick could grasp onto what he said.


"So pretty."


"Me?" Patrick challenged.


"When you cry." Jonny clarified and kissed Patrick again. They both went through their nap routine, moving around each other with practiced ease. Patrick didn’t mind when Jonny hogged the sink to wash his face.


"Thanks man."  Patrick said with feeling, once he was changed and getting into bed. Orgasms typically lead to fucking prime naps.


"I got you, Kaner."


Patrick smiled as he turned off the light. "Never doubted it."




They ended up setting up a weekly lunch date.  The time moved around, depending on their schedule.  But they went out to grab food or ordered in.  Just the two of them.  The routine felt good, natural.  And slowly, Jonny started opening up about things that maybe he felt he couldn't share with anyone else.


"Wait, wait" Patrick asked during one of their lunches, "You actually let the dude stay for two days, what the fuck?"


"His flight was canceled, I'm not an asshole!"  Jonny defended


"You actually are an asshole, asshole.  But like, you know that was totally a play right?"


"No it wasn't."  Jonny grouched, "What the fuck do you know anyway?"


Patrick sighed, rolled his eyes, and started on a lengthy analysis of the dude's behavior, using evidence and points to demonstrate that the dude was trying to like, work his way into Jonny's interest.


Jonny didn't admit that Patrick was right, of course.  Just sort of chewed his nasty health wrap and said, "Maybe."




It was well into the season and Patrick knew that Jonny hadn't picked up in a while.  They were on a circus trip and he hadn't mentioned anyone he was eager to get back to. They had a day before Boston and no one was trying to go out more than maybe some dinner.


"Hey. Hey!" Patrick called.  Of course, Jonny had his very fancy and expensive noise canceling headphones in.  Only one thing to do about that. Patrick got a good grip on one of his pillows and gleefully whipped it at Jonny's face.


"What the fuck Kaner!" Jonny growled, clutching his computer like he didn't back everything up on the cloud and couldn’t afford another. But his headphones were down around his neck and that was all that mattered.


"Hey, you wanna?"  Patrick grinned, a please have sex with me leer, really.


"Wanna what?"


Patrick sighed.  Jonny look genuinely confused.  Patrick heaved himself up, making sure to sound equal amounts exasperated and amused. He shrugged off his sweats and briefs, "You wanna fool around, idiot."


"Oh." Jonny swallowed eye focused on where Patrick was giving himself a couple leisurely pumps. "Yeah, I guess. What were you thinking?"


Patrick shrugged, his cock plumping up.  Something about talking this straight forward about sex with Jonny was a total turn on.  Gone were the shy and unsure days of old.  This Jonny was confident, and assertive, and fucking ripe.


"I mean, your mouth is always on the table in my opinion." Patrick ventured.  He sorta missed the way Jonny kissed him.  It felt close and intimate and real in a way kissing strangers could never be.


Jonny smirked, cocky shit that he was. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he leaned back against his hands and spread his thighs. "Your mouth is a good option too."


Patrick thought about it, a good throat fucking.  Jonny was good for it, would get Patrick off after.  But he was kinda in the mood for something less floaty and more energetic..


"There's no reason why we can't have it both ways."  Patrick settled, mind made up.


Jonny's eyebrows perked up in interest, "You better get up top then, there's no way I'm doing that much work."


Patrick grinned, "Cuz you're getting old?"


"Cuz my body mass is higher than yours."


"Jerk." Patrick accused as he crawled over to get some Jonny smooches.




"Shithead." Patrick stuck his tongue out on that one.


Jonny laughed, hands clutching at Patricks hips as they straddled his own, "Slut." He whispered against Patrick's mouth.  And fuck, Patrick shuddered.


"Yeah."  He agreed easily and ground his ass down against Jonny's thickening shaft. "You get me that way."


Jonny groaned and attacked Patrick's mouth, forcefully unleashing all his beautiful skill.  Which, really Patrick should give out medals because Jonny's mouth did things worthy of the Stanley Cup of kissing.


It took a little coordination; Jonny had to stuff an obscene amount of pillows behind his neck and upper shoulders to make up for the height difference.


"Crink in you neck, seriously? You're just saying that shit because you don't have enough core strength to basically hold a standard crunch." Patrick chirped.  Patrick thought that Jonny's high maintenance-ness should really be a turn off and yet...  His dick was definitely still interested.


"There." Jonny sighed, finally appropriately propped.  Patrick scoffed and hooked his leg over.  He shivered, the exposure and the sheer slutiness of the position caused goosebumps to pop up along his arms and legs.


"Got a perfect view of this tight hole."  Jonny whispered.  Patrick could feel the breath he used to say it dance along his rim.


"Fuck."  Patrick groaned. He dropped his head along Jonny's hip bone and just like, took a minute.


Jonny took two handfuls of Patrick's cheeks, squeezing the muscle, releasing and slapping lightly again. "Kaner, your skin gets so fucking red, like immediately."  He slapped his ass again almost to prove his point to himself.  Patrick certainly couldn't see it. But the quick sting of the slaps kinda stirred his balls and his cock started to fill. "Come on Kaner, get to sucking, this was your idea."


Patrick moaned, body already heated. He nosed along the base of Jonny's cock and started licking him there.  He made sure to make his strokes firm, wet, getting Jonny ready.  Before he could make it to the tip though, Jonny fucking spit into his hole and then licked his rim.


Patrick's hips rolled, unintentionally grinding his ass into Jonny's face.


"Hey. Don't be a jerk."  Jonny growled, fingers digging into Patrick's ass.


"Sorry, fuck sorry.  It's...."


"Shhh, I get it. But hold still, yeah?"


Patrick nodded and sucked in a breath.  To distract himself he fastened his mouth around Jonny's tip, careful to be gentle with the foreskin until Jonny was a little further along.  He formed his mouth into the perfect shape for a gentle suction and moaned like an actual whore when Jonny started lapping at his balls and dipping his thumb into Patrick's hole.


Patrick tried to focus.  He really fucking did. Like, he made great attempts to deep throat Jonny before he got too turned on by what Jonny was doing behind him.  Patrick even choked himself on Jonny's cock, trying to keep it in his throat.  But the feel of Jonny's mouth on him, his hole, his sack--


Patrick started to loose it. He quivered and shook, his cock leaking onto Jonny's abs. 


"Oh hell no. You can't move for at least ten minutes after you come." Jonny said, hands keeping Patrick's hips from pumping backward. He reached down and held up the base of his cock, "finish sucking it."


Patrick whimpered --body thrumming with his arousal. Jonny's mouth, his dirty talk seemed to always get him ruined just right. 


When he was sure that he could coordinate his muscles, he greedily sucked down Jonny's dick. The tip was already wet and Patrick made sure to get his tongue in there. Jonny's deep groan spurred him on and he bobbed his head to give Jonny the hard suction he liked.  Jonny's fist was working the base, tight short pumps that bumped Patrick's lips.


"There you go, that's it. Gonna shoot down your throat." Jonny moaned.


Patrick could feel the way Jonny's hand clenched and unclenched around the muscle of his ass like he wanted to shove Patrick's face down. 


Instead he gripped his four fingers along Patrick's tailbone and shove his thumb inside Patrick's hole. He hooked it up to give Patrick something to clench around.


"Your hole is as greedy as your mouth."


Sure enough, Patrick felt his hole tighten and release distracting him enough to choke on Jonny's cock.


"Jonny." He rasped, body too hot and needy.


"Little more Kaner. I'll get you."


Patrick whined but took Jonny back into his mouth. His jaw ached and his eyes burned a little but Jonny was pumping his cock with purpose and before Patrick could be moved to beg, Jonny was shooting into his mouth and down his throat.


Patrick choked on that too, but didn't stop suckling until he felt Jonny's mouth on his balls.  


Jonny's dick was still hard and Patrick just needed something... he latched his mouth back onto it, holding it there.  Jonny grunted but didn't demand he pull off.  Patrick suckled with his mouth as Jonny played with his ass.


Patrick hadn't realized how he'd been going without--greedy hole begging to have something inside--until Jonny slotted a spit-slick finger inside his ass.


"Jonny," Patrick gasped, suddenly needing more than he ever would have predicted, "I need, do we have...."


"Yeah, right here. It's not flavored though, that's why I was holding off." Jonny came back to him with two thick fingers forcing their way inside Patrick's tight channel.


"Nnnnn." Patrick arched his back even more, skin flushed and and balls aching. Even though it had been over a year, Patrick wanted, "Wish you could fuck me."


"Damn Kaner, you really do need it huh." Jonny sounded as high as Patrick felt.


But, like a true bro, Jonny didn't make him beg for it. He pushed Patrick a little further down so that he could really put force behind his fingers. Before too long, he added another, spreading his three fingers wide and chanted yeah yeah yeah when Patrick shook and sobbed.


The prostate stimulation was overwhelming and Patrick couldn't even begin to control how his hips must have looked simultaneously seeking and shying away from Jonny's insistent fingers.


"Jesus Pat, your fucking hole is trying to swallow my hand." Jonny marveled, wrist probably working really fucking hard to pump in and out of Patrick with that much force. "Think you can take another?"


Patrick whined, so fucking turned on by the idea. "Please Jonny."


"Yeah, let's see." Jonny slowed it down, focused more on the stretching and effectively drawing out what was bound to be the most intense orgasm Patrick had in months. Patrick could feel Jonny's pinky dancing around his rim, teasing the sensitive flesh and encouraging it to give.


But..."Jonny, your hands..."


"Shhh, you're gonna open right up for me, right Kaner? No trouble at all." As if to emphasize his point he pulled back and pushed all four fingers deeper into Patrick's ass. And then, "I'm all in Pat, never seen you this fucking loose, wonder if you'd still feel my dick if I fucked you right now."


Patrick cried out, completely taken by the image of Jonny's huge dick slipping out of his hole because it was too sloppy. Then he imagined what someone would see if they came in. He must have looked like such a whore for Jonny, begging for four fingers and maybe even more. Patrick clenched down, felt the burst of prostate stimulation, heard Jonny curse in French and then immediately climaxed.


"Fuck." Pat gasped, how the fuck did that happen?


"Fuck, Kaner, did you just fucking... you've never." Jonny reached down to cup Patrick's dick, seeking the evidence and Patrick whined at the sensation because... because... his dick was still hard! "Shit, you fucking did, you're such a whore for it."


Patrick was still shaking. Body seemingly as shocked as him that something deep in his ass could make him come so powerfully without pumping his dick. Without getting his dick involved at all, actually.


"Do you want me to..." Jonny moved his fingers questioningly.


"No, no, just a, just a few seconds... I..." Patrick's hole was still fluttering, clenching up with aftershocks that he hadn't felt the likes of since that first year he learned how to jack off, under the covers when he was sure everyone was sleeping. It was deeper somehow, more looming, like he could feel it inside.


"Shhhh." Jonny soothed and rubbed his free hand along the base of Patrick's spine. "Just tell me when, no rush."


After a few more moments, Patrick nodded against Jonny's legs. Jonny gently pulled his fingers out and wiped them along the top of the bedspread. From his vantage point, Patrick could see that Jonny was half hard. Patrick could barely move, limbs heavy with his climax but still shaking with need--it was an odd internal opposition.


""you'should fuck'me." Pat slurred.


"Pat," Jonny warned, "You just had your first prostate orgasm. Maybe I should just give you a hand job and put your ass to bed."


By some miracle, Patrick lifted his head, "Fuck me," he demanded, "fucking do it, come on."


"Kaner," Jonny growled, "Its gonna take me a little while to come."


"Good." Pat lifted his chin in a challenge.


"Crisse." Jonny huffed, dick fattening up. He pushed Patrick further down the bed and pulled his legs underneath him. Patrick got up higher on his knees, but had to keep his forearms on the bed, not trusting himself to be able to hold the more challenging position. He heard Jonny squirt the lube in his hand and caught a glimpse over his shoulder of him pumping his dick, spreading the lube around and getting himself ready. Patrick was glad Jonny didn't try the whole condom shit.


Patrick widened his stance, "Come on Tazer."


"Fucking bossy slut." Jonny complained but then pressed the head of his dick into Patrick and didn't stop sliding in until Patrick felt their hips bump. He went in so fucking easy.


"Fuck that's hot." Patrick gasped, amazed by how deep and hard Jonny could go from the start.


Jonny just grunted behind him and pumped his hips harder.


"Does it hurt?" Jonny asked, breath labored. He was gripping Patrick's hips and pounding into him.


Patrick glanced at his white knuckle grip of the bedspread. Yeah it fucking hurt. Patrick's hole was throbbing already and his prostate caused him to muffle shocked yelps every time Jonny's big dick grazed it. But the pain was sweet too, in a way, it was edgy and dark and thrilling. Patrick trusted Jonny enough that he knew that if it became too much, he could just tell him to pull the fuck out and finish some other way. But for now, Patrick fucking loved it.


"Yeah, it does. But it feels good like that." Patrick answered finally, voice hitched and breathy. "Really fucking good Tazer."


"Shit." Jonny groaned. "You're such a slut Pat."


Patrick sobbed and pushed back, eager to take as much of Jonny as he could. But then, Jonny reached around and squeezed Patrick's dick.


"No! Jonny I'll come."


"That's the idea." Jonny chuckled and didn't stop jacking Patrick's leaking cock.


"But.." Patrick gasped, body trembling, "I won't be able to.." But it was lost, it felt too fucking good to have his ass filled with Jonny, his prostate aching with abuse and his cock pumped just right. He shot off so hard his slit burned a little.


And Jonny was still fucking him. He followed Patrick as he collapsed forward and humped the shit out of his ass.


Patrick whimpered, "Jonny, I can't..."


"Little more." He huffed and grunted as he really drilled into Patrick, hips bouncing off and punching out the breath from Patrick's lungs.


When Jonny came, his mouth was against Patrick's ear panting, "Fucking perfect slut."


Patrick felt Jonny's body tense and his ass filled with hot semen. They both gulped in air, bowled over by the force of their orgasms. They stayed like that for who knows how long.


"Fuck Pat, M'sorry, lemme get off."


Patrick hissed and cursed when Jonny pulled his dick out. It fucking hurt, like in a non-sexy way and his lower back was going to be such a mess with the way Jonny had just used him.


Jonny scrambled off the bed at the sound of Patrick's pained breathing. He returned quickly with a glass of water and a tube of something.


"Fuck Kaner. I got carried away, you alright dude?" His hands gently massaged Patrick's lower back.


Patrick, for his part, had to concentrate really fucking hard to lift his head and not choke on the water Jonny got him.


"I'll live. Ass hurts like a mother fucker, though."


"Can I look? I got a washcloth and some neosporin."


"Yeah, but I can't.." Patrick shifted, his thighs fucking killed from holding the same position for so long. He flopped gracelessly onto his side and stretched. "Shit." He cursed as his tailbone shot off a jab of pain. Patrick rolled onto his back and pulled his thighs to his chest. "Can you see?"


When Patrick glanced up, he saw Jonny's lips pressed together in a concerned line. They looked at each other but before Patrick could grope for reassuring words, Jonny lurched into action. He carefully dragged the warm washcloth Patrick's hole and between his ass cheeks and inner thighs. Champion that he was, Jonny also had a dry towel to catch all the moisture that would just dry sticky otherwise. And whoa, Mr. boyscott, Jonny produced wet wipes from some magical stash and really wiped at Patrick's hole, since Jonny's come was still coming out.


Patrick hissed and whined, "Stings." He pouted both at the towel and the wet wipes.


"Sorry." Jonny mumbled, cheeks flushed with embarrassment or guilt or both. "You look pretty raw, Pat." Jonny warned as he rubbed around some neosporin.


"More than normal?"


"Yeah, um... here." Jonny leaned across Patrick to the bedside table. He snatched his phone and angled it at Patrick's hole.


"Are you seriously about to sext yourself right now?"


"Shut up, it's so you can see." Jonny snapped a few pics and crawled to lay beside Patrick, offering him the screen.


Patrick stretched out his legs and focused on the picture. Well.... that was oddly hot and alarming at the same time. His hole was raw. Red and swollen and gaping--like Patrick tried to clench it closed but it ached when he did that so he stopped. "Damn." He managed.


"There's no blood." Jonny whispered, clearly abashed. "But it's never been that puffy after, I don't think."


"I'll pop some Advil. It'll be fine."


"But practice tomorrow, maybe you should--"


"Jonny, please, stop freaking out. I'm sure it'll be fine. Who knows, maybe it will make me horny and we'll win the game on Friday because of my raging testosterone and mad stick handling skills. It's fine, stop freaking out."


Jonny deflated beside him. His face warred between supreme irritation and shame. "How long do you think you'll feel it for?"


Patrick thought about it and shrugged, "Dunno, maybe a few days. You got it pretty good, man."


Jonny groaned and threw a hand over his eyes. "I'm annoyed by how hot that is." He grumbled.


Patrick laughed, "Me too. Like, send me that pic dude."


"Seriously?" Jonny asked, speculative eyes peeking him from the side.


"Yeah. It's my ass, it's not as creepy as the fact that you are definitely saving that shit."


"Course I'm saving that shit, I did that shit." He preened. They both looked at each other for a second and then busted out laughing. Patrick laughed because of how supremely competitive that sounded. And with some odd fondness that swooped in Patrick's belly, Patrick tugged at Jonny's neck and pulled him down for a kiss. A wet one, with tongue.


"Thanks man, I needed that."


Jonny grinned, "I needed it too, I think."




Things got hard that season.  Because Patrick was hungry for the Art Ross, for the fucking Cup and Jonny was right there with him.  Patrick pushed it, really went for every game.  Jonny was there with him, trying to control the ice, fighting Patrick on the bench, sometimes fucking him to blow off steam on the road.  It wasn't like rookie year, but it was good in it's own right.  They were just so focused, so ready for it.


And they did it.


Patrick made the goal in the shoot-out that won them the Stanley Fucking Cup!


One of Patrick's thoughts, as Jonny skated toward him with the cup held high over his head was: I bet Tazer would totally blow me for that goal.


It didn't happen that night out--celebrating their win and not the night after either.  But the third night, back in Chicago before the parade the next day.  Jonny came over to pick up some book he swore he let Patrick borrow last YEAR and Patrick, who hadn't ever let the thought out of his mind said, "Hey, how happy are you that I scored that last goal?"


Jonny's eyebrows scrunched and his lips pursed but he kept rummaging around Patrick's bookshelf. "Uh, very happy. What the fuck kind of question is that?"


"I just think captains should reward their players, when they do something that good."  Patrick goaded.


Jonny's neck snapped up and his eyes locked with Patrick's.  Patrick made sure everything laid bare on his face.  How horny he was, how he'd been low-grade hard thinking about Jonny giving him a congratulatory suck job for the past three nights.  He readjusted himself in his sweats.


Jonny's eyebrows rose. "There's no I in team, Kaner. What makes you so special?" Jonny challenged.


Patrick smirked and swaggered over to the couch.  He relaxed in it with a sigh, legs spread, "Cuz there's only one player I know of on the team that would give their captain a return blowie to congratulate him on a job well done."


"Oh so that's the play here? Get on my knees cuz you did your job out there?"  Jonny's eyes narrowed but his face flushed with want.


"Come on Tazer, you know how deep I can take it."


"What makes you think I don't have someone who can take it just as good?"  Jonny's snarked.  It stung a little but in no way deterred Patrick. 


Patrick blinked and changed tactics.  He hadn’t intended to play dirty, but Jonny forced him to it. "Come on Jonny, please.  Been thinking of tasting you since we won.  I want to come in your mouth and I want you to fuck my throat. Please? Won't feel right otherwise."


"You fucker." Jonny spat, hands working his sweats and briefs. His cock was hard--it could get harder, certainly, but it was obvious that Jonny was just as into it as Patrick was.


Jonny didn't make it easy.  He was savage about it, using the leverage of the back of the couch to fuck Patrick's mouth.  They had to work for a good angle but finally Jonny's down stroke bumped the back of Patrick's throat perfectly and he swallowed and Jonny was in.


"Yeah, Crisse, take it Kaner."  Jonny panted, dick twitching in Patrick's mouth. Patrick cupped himself, pressed down, tried to keep his needs in check.  Jonny was good for it.


After Jonny came down Patrick's throat, groaning like he was shot and Patrick swallowed greedily, he rested his head against the back of the couch.  He licked his lips, chasing Jonny's taste and they started at each other.  Patrick was still jonsing.


"You got such a good mouth Kaner."  Jonny said, thumb tracing over Patrick's swollen lips.


Patrick whined but Jonny didn't make him beg.  He kissed him, demanding and sure and Patrick's chest tightened. He felt so full, brimming with pride for winning the cup and for winning the cup with Jonny.


"Want me to suck you?" Jonny checked, already shoving Patrick down on the long sectional, spreading one of his legs over the couch's back.


"Yeah." Patrick nodded adamantly.  It'd been way too long since Jonathan Toews brought him to orgasm.


"Alright Peeks, hold up, alright?" Jonny shuffled off the couch and jogged away down Patrick's hall.


"What the fuck? Tazer, you asshole!"  Patrick growled out.  In the 60 seconds or so that Patrick lay naked, splayed, and alone, the cool air between his legs did nothing to make his dick soften. Shithead.


Tazer came jogging back-- dick jostling and he waved whatever he had been looking for in front of Patrick's face.


"Oh fuck."  Nipple clamps.  Patrick hadn't used them since the last time Jonny put them on him.


Jonny hummed, pleased.  He didn't ask, didn’t need to.  Just licked his forefinger and thumb and toyed with Patrick's right and left nipple, pebbling them up. Patrick started panting, his body anticipating the sweet sting. Patrick yelped when Jonny attached the first, having forgotten the sharp bite. By the second he was moaning, rolling his hips, almost overloaded. The clamps applied a constant, aching pressure that always made Patrick pant and hump like a dog.


Jonny twirled the chain between the two clamps and tugged lightly. Patrick shivered. "You're gonna feel this under your jersey tomorrow."


If you ever asked Patrick, he'd outright deny that the following drag of Jonny's tongue from the base of his cock up to the sensitive underside of the crown and in the slit did not actually make him come. Jonny barely had Patrick stuffed all the way inside, hand pumping when Patrick promptly emptied his load.


Jonny smirked cockily after, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, "Been that long Kaner? Or just that long since it was that good?"


Patrick, stupid and loopy, said, "Haven't had it better than you yet, to be honest."


Jonny stilled. "Peeks--"


Patrick sighed, "Not trying to be a shit, it's just fact."


Jonny swallowed. "You ready to get those off" he changed the topic, eyes pointing to the clamps.


Patrick scrunched his nose, "This part sucks"


"I know Peeks" 


When Jonny removed them, he made sure he was kissing Patrick-- soothing him and silencing him at the same time. Patrick whimpered as the blood filled back into his nipples, and whined when Jonny rubbed his thumbs over them. Jonny kissed him through it and even stayed the night.






Patrick was there when Jonny met Lindsey. 


Him and Jonny were doing a Blackhawks photoshoot over the summer--some Stanley Cup redemption campaign with Jonny wearing the C and Kaner literally instructed to "smile like a cocky shit".  Lindsey was there for an Armani colon photoshoot.  He was shirtless but still looked better dressed than maybe Patrick had ever been.


Patrick noticed the dude, obviously.  He scanned him once, noted that he was pretty as fuck with natural blond hair and deep blue eyes and almost as tall as Jonny—toned legs going for days. But being too slim to be Patrick’s type, he focused on the protein bar they had allowed him to eat between shots.  Jonny had wondered over to the water cooler where Lindsey was already hanging out.  Patrick had minded his own business, quite honestly not giving any of it a second thought.  But when Jonny got called back over to the shoot with his face split in a goofy grin...Patrick knew Lindsey was going to be different than that nursing student, or the gym bunny, or the professional skier.


Patrick remembered looking back at Lindsey.  He took in his striking profile, the way he carefully refilled his water cup, the way he looked refined, and pretty, and well-mannered.  And Patrick realized that Lindsey was going to be different because he was the first guy Patrick thought might be good enough for Jonny, in all the ways that Jonny would especially care about.


When they wrapped up the shoot, Lindsey caught Jonny on the way out, saying something that Patrick couldn't catch.  Jonny walked over to him and...yeah... Patrick watched as Jonny clearly put Lindsey's number in his phone.


"Je te parlerai plus tard, Jonathan"  Lindsey shouted after them, and even waved at Patrick.


Oh. Damn.


As they walked to the car Jonny said, "He's French." and smilingly boyishly added, "But I'm not gonna hold it against him."


"What's his name?"  Patrick asked, grinning at Jonny's stupidly excited face.




"What the fuck kind of name is that?"


"Shut up, it can be a guys name too, asshole."


Patrick laughed and saved his name chirps for another time, "He's hot, man."


"Right?"  Jonny beamed.


Patrick's chest felt suddenly tight with fondness.  And really, there was only one answer to that, "He has vision problems?"


"Uh, no, why?"  Jonny's brows furrowed, and the smile never actually slipped off his face.


"Just wondering what he sees in you." Patrick joked, cackling at his own chirp.


"Shut the fuck up, Kaner."  But Jonny must have been really stoked about Lindsey, because there was absolutely no bite in his voice at all.





Jonny never brought Lindsey to their weekly lunches.  Said the lunches were tradition, had to be untouched, said they didn't want to mess with the good energy.  Jonny would turn something like lunch into a devout ritual.


That meant that Patrick had to meet Lindsey out a lot.  At parties, mostly.  But sometimes at Jonny's place when they were watching a movie.


Jonny still wasn't out to the team.  So Patrick kinda represented his entire friend group.  Lindsey though, was out everywhere, especially social media.


During one such movie hang out, Lindsey met Patrick at the door, smiling warmly and kissing Patrick on the cheek as was his tradition.


"Jonny is in a mood."  Lindsey's eyes twinkled as he took Patrick's jacket and hung it up.  Patrick rolled his shoulders because, Patrick had been hanging his jacket up at Jonny's a whole year before Lindsey even met Jonny.  Lindsey continued, "They want to paint a mural of him in Chicago and his mom wants him to agree but he absolutely hates the idea."  He whispered the tale lowly, his accent adding a layer of sweet gossip to it all. 


Patrick chuckled, "Oh, Lindsey, this is so epic."


"I thought you would enjoy it." Lindsey winked.


"Enjoy what?" Jonny rounded the corner--face most certainly raging as Lindsey had prepared him for.


"Making you watch Cars 2!"  Patrick shoved the gluten-free, alcohol-free, fake beer at him.  He had to drive like 7 miles out of the way for them.


"I'm not watching a fucking kids movie Kaner, come on."


"Whoa, dude, ease up, stop acting like people are going to paint a mural of you without your permission."


Jonny's eyes turned thunderous.  Patrick roared with laughter.


"Lindsey. Tu lui a dis?"


Lindsey was cackling right along, "Qui, et?"


"Now mom, dad, no fighting when we have company."


Jonny turned on his heel and stomped off.  Lindsey and Patrick wiped literal tears of laughter from their eyes.




Deep into the season (a pretty fucking successful season, Patrick might add) Jonny picked him up because Lindsey was co-hosting a party with his housemates.  Patrick felt like he hadn't seen Jonny in ages.  They caught up in the car--chirping each other viciously.


When they arrived, they sought Lindsey out first.


"Hi boys!"  Lindsey smiled, kissed Jonny on the mouth and Patrick on the cheek. "Let me get you drinks!  Oh, and thank you for taking off your shoes."  He smiled sweetly at Jonny, like the fact that he remembered warmed his heart.  Patrick filed it away for later chirping material.


After he set them up with drinks, Lindsey was called away to greet another guest.


"Don't worry, we're big boys."  Jonny assured him.


Lindsey smiled--and he did have a gorgeous smile--Patrick didn't blame Jonny for being sprung, and flitted away with promises to return.


Patrick grinned at Jonny silently.


"What?" Jonny asked, eyes cutting and suspicious.


"Nothing, nothing Jonny you just..." Patrick licked his lips "You look good, with Lindsey, you two are like a good pair, celebrity royalty or something." 


"Oh. Uh... it's not really like that but we have a good time." 


"I bet." Patrick deadpans.


Jonny laughs. "Yeah, no, it's good for now."


Patrick tried to shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right.  Jonny was happy, loose, dating a gorgeous model of a man (like an actual model) and was certainly a far cry from the 19 year old rookie that Patrick remembered having a serious stick up his ass.  But, still, Jonny seemed.... a little...unfulfilled? Patrick shook his head.  He was happy for Jonny, he was not going to start being a total dick and be jealous of him.  Jonny had someone in his life, someone really good for him and Patrick needed to not feel sorry for himself that he didn't have the same.  Plus, he was like, in his 20s, he didn't want to think about that.  Jonny was a weird monogamist or whatever. 


One of Lindsey's friends cut-in, asking Jonny about something they must have talked about before.


Patrick jumped into the party, not wanting to hold Jonny back.  He schmoozed some very beautiful people and ultimately found some chick's personal jewelry maker to kick it with.  She reminded him of his sisters-- smart, funny, and just this shy of bossy.


"So you... play with sticks for a living?" Amanda chirped (chirped!) when he asked if being a jewelry maker entailed more than putting beads on a string with like a charm.


She was cute, petite, pretty eyes and a sultry smile. She had this great laid-back vibe, beachy hair and a (very nice) collection of cool looking bangles.


"Could I get your number?" Patrick asked before he turned in.  Jonny was looking seriously invested in a conversation in the kitchen and Patrick had about expired an hour ago.


"No dick pics."  She warned seriously and her bangles jingled when she pointed her finger at him.


"No, course not."  Patrick waited a beat while he pulled out his phone, "Just below the chin ab shots, obvi."


"Dude." Amanda looked severely unimpressed, "Do not go through the trouble of raiding google images, thank you."


Patrick laughed. "I actually want to commission some jewelry, Ms. dirty mind, in exchange for maybe some nice seats to a hockey game?"


"Is that so?"


Patrick smiled, "I have three sisters and I never have time to shop during the season."


Her mouth curved with amusement and Patrick decided that it was his favorite expression so far.  "That might be more than one hockey game, honey."


"Seriously? How much is your shit?"


She laughed and pulled out a card, "My website is on there.  I think the cheapest thing I make is maybe... $115.00?"


Patrick whistled, "Damn girl. Well done."


"Why else do you think I'm even at this party"  Her smile dimmed a touch, turning to something fond, "Sometimes, I actually miss the days when I was selling shit out of my trunk."


Patrick thought about that. "Yeah, I know what you mean. When I was little, when there were so many levels of new ice to hit, every time I got on the ice it was like the first time.  But where do you go from the NHL and a Stanley Cup win? More wins, obviously, but it isn't as pure as that original... hunger."


Amanda was watching him steadily, her eyes incredibly sage-like for someone who was maybe 23, "Exactly. One minute I was struggling to pay rent and getting friends of friends to help me with my website and then, bam, a celebrity wears my shit and suddenly it became more..."


"Complicated." Patrick offered


"Complicated." She agreed. "But, I'm not complaining."


"No, no," Patrick looked over to Jonny who seemed to sense him and gave him a nod to the door.  Patrick nodded back. "I'm not complaining either."


"You headed out?"


"Yeah, we've got practice tomorrow.  But I can hit you up, yeah?" Patrick smiled fully, the I'm cute and you know it smile.


"Hit me up? Seriously?"  She laughed, "Yeah, we'll figure something out for your sisters."


"Right. Exactly."  Patrick smirked.





The first time him and Amanda fucked, Patrick immediately ranked it in his top 5 for sex with girls. And it was the first time!


Amanda was a little pushy in bed, which Patrick enjoyed immensely.  She instructed him to finger her while they made out and Patrick got to feel every little incremental increase in wetness.


"Fuck girl, I wanna taste this pussy already."  Patrick growled


Amanda's mouth curved into a sassy grin, "Yeah? Well get to it, get down there and eat me out and if it's good enough I'll think about letting you stick your dick in."


Patrick groaned and licked and sucked his way down her body.  Her pretty shaved pussy was already gleaming and Patrick just hooked her legs over his shoulders and dove for it, slurping and licking until he heard her sharp gasps.  She got a good grip on his hair and grinded into his face.


"Yes, there, fuck!" she moaned.


She kept him there until his jaw ached and until she came in a shaking, loud, gorgeous arch.


Patrick pulled off and wiped the back of his mouth, "Make the cut?"  His dick strained upward away from his body, fully hard and ready to go.


"It was alright."  She joked and then tossed him a condom from her bedside drawer. "Now, go slow, I want to come on your cock so don't fucking shoot off before I'm there."


Patrick laughed at her directness. "You just tell me when you want me to drill you hard."


"Oh my god, you are a bad porn film!"  She helped him position her legs back over his shoulders, "Get in me already."


Patrick did not deny her.  Just spread her open, smooth and hot, over his cock. Patrick didn't even mind the condom. "Fuck, Mands."  He grit his teeth against the desire to pound in.


"Yeah, fuck, your dick is like, perfectly fat."  They groaned together when he was fully in and then rocking back and forth real easy.


When she came, her neck and chest curved in the most graceful arch.  They came down panting and when he pulled out to deal with the condom, she patted him on the shoulder saying, "Well done. How do you feel about post-fuck tacos?"


He knew they had some good times ahead of them after that.




Everything was so easy with Amanda.   

They kinda skipped the whole formal dating thing and went straight to casual sex and sleepovers.  She was the bro-est non-athlete he had ever met. She was kinda a persistent backpaker at heart.  She traveled a lot of the winter (grumbling about the cold and the ways it killed her soul) and usually he was traveling too so it worked out.  She'd randomly snap him nasty burns she had gotton while doing fucking metal making and shit and he'd send he even nastier pictures of his bruises after games.


They met up in California when the Hawks played the Kings and Patrick was supremely happy to find out that their approach to beaching was identical.  Beer, sun, volleyball, and watermelon.  Always watermelon. She never got mad or snippy when he went a bit of time on a roadie without calling.  They just seemed to pick up where they had left off. 


Amanda had an ex-girlfriend, which came out in some story she was telling him over sushi. Patrick told her that he'd been an equal opportunist lay since he was 15.


"Seriously? That's so hot." And then she got this look, this downright scary predator look and said, "So... that means I can break out my strap on?"


Patrick barked out a laugh, startled, "Uh..." He imagined her fucking him and something about it didn't quite work. Like she needed to be bigger, stronger...that's what he always liked about dick and why he never really cared for the twink body type.   "Maybe we can start with prostate stimulation?"


She smiled happily, "Okay."


Before Patrick knew it, they were coming up on 6 months and the Blackhawks were in the run for the cup again. He said as much over the phone.


"We've kinda been hooking up for a minute, Mands."


She chuckled, "Yeah, and?"


"I just, like, have never managed this before."  Patrick shook his head and turned to Jonny who was trying to be nice and have headphones on, "Jonny! I made it kinda 6 months with a girl."


"Good for you?" Jonny responded, one part amused and one part haughty.


"He's so rude Mands."


"I'll beat him up."  Amanda promised, and then swore colorfully. "Fuck, the beads I ordered from Morocco got held up in Customs. They're beads!"


"Maybe they have cocaine in them."


"Shut up."


"So, wait, do we have to do anything for 6 months? Like do I send you something?" Patrick wondered while he rummaged for some Advil in his toiletries bag. He wanted to steal Jonny's again but twice in one road trip got him snippy.


Amanda laughed, "No, hun, you only do weird shit like that when you're dating someone."


Wait. "We're not dating?"


"No, dude, we're regularly hooking up but we're not like monogamous and serious."


Patrick straightened up, his eyebrows furrowing. "Do you want to be that?"  His stomach started knotting... this was not the conversation he had meant to have when he started down this road. Now he had gone and started something that could fuck up this glorious whatever they had that had made it 6 months.


Amanda just giggled, "No, dude, I'm very happy with what we've got going on.  Stop freaking out, we're going to be the same way after six months as we were after 4.  Except, I expect a picture with that trophy you try and win every season."


"The. Stanley. Cup."  Patrick hissed, but he was smiling too because he knew she did that on purpose. "I'm getting you shit from the next Claire's I pass, you jerk."


She cackled on the other end, "Have fun tomorrow. Love you!"


"Bye, love you too."  Patrick said and turned to Jonny to ask for his Advil.  He was sitting up, watching him... concerned?


"You, uh, you okay?" Jonny asked


"Yeah, bro, why?"


"Oh, it uh, just sounded like a serious conversation." Jonny ducked his head and rubbed the back of his neck. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop. Sorry."


"Nah its cool."  Patrick suddenly remembered that he had thrown his Advil on the outside pocket of his duffle bag.  Yes! He bee-lined for it.


"So, are you and Amanda official now?"  Jonny asked with Patrick's back turned, "You can use my Advil if you want."


"Nah, I got it. Ha!"  Patrick opened the tricky top and popped two out. "No, we're keeping it casual. We're always on the same page about that stuff." Patrick sighed gratefully at the fucking bullet that he shot at himself and then avoided.


"So you, like, hook up with other people?"


Patrick swallowed down the two pills, chugging the rest of his Gatorade. "Um, I guess theoretically we can but we kinda both don't have time but like if she did I also wouldn't be pissed and I think that's vice versa." Patrick flopped on his bed, breathing out happily when the pillows were actually a perfect level of firmness.


Jonny nodded, eyes serious. "That's good, Pat.  I'm glad you found something that works for you."


Patrick looked over.  Jonny so rarely called him Pat that it added a somber tone when he did. "Thanks man. Amanda's great.  And hey, Lindsey's great too, yeah?"


The side of Jonny's mouth tipped up, "Yeah, Lindsey's pretty cool."


Well alright then.




They lost to the fucking Penguins that season.  But they were so close and Patrick knew, deep in his chest that they had it in them to go all the way again.


Patrick bought a house on a lake and planned to spend most of his summer enjoying it.  Jonny planned a trip to Peru with Lindsey while he was shooting a gig out there.


Patrick assumed they wouldn't talk much. So they planned a few more lunches before they parted ways.


"Train hard, Kaner."  Jonny said as they paid the check at their final lunch. "Don't be a fucking lake bum."


"I'll train hard if you stick to your freak diet while you're in fucking Peru, how's that?"


"A lot of their food is fish based, plus they fucking grow Quinoa there, dude."


"Yeah, and now because of jerks like you that shit is too over-priced for Peruvians to even afford, dickface, so you'll probably be eating rice and shit!"


Jonny narrowed his eyes, obviously hating that Patrick knew something about Peru that Jonny didn't.  Jonny had become like a weird expert on ancient Incan civilizations because, like the psycho that he was, he planned to to hike the Inca trail. The front office was not happy about it, at all.


Patrick smiled, "I'll send you the article.  Have an awesome time bro."


They hugged it out and parted ways.


"Next year, eh?" Jonny smiled at him and Patrick realized in this swoosh of emotion that he’d miss Jonny over the summer.


“Yeah, for sure. Catch you in August.” Jonny hooked his arm around Patrick’ neck and pulled him into a hug.





It happened in the middle of the season. Patrick didn’t think he’d been so angry and petrified at the same time.


Jonny took a high hit during the Sharks game and Patrick wouldn’t have thought anything of it except he skated right to the bench, barely on his legs.


Being a natural nosey asshole, Patrick met Jonny at the hospital after the game.




Time would tell how bad, Jonny had to monitor it. The fucking shithead was already trying to convince the medical team that he could play in the next game.


Thankfully, they were on back-to-backs so Jonny couldn’t do stupid shit like try to prove to himself that the symptoms weren’t that bad. Patrick only ever saw him this controlling and uncooperative when he was really fucking scared. That made Patrick really fucking scared too because Jonny was so typically unflappable in most situations.


When they arrived back in Chicago, Jonny didn’t want Patrick to drive him home. But Patrick knew Lindsey was on a job in Mexico, Andre wouldn’t be able to get to Chicago until the next day and Patrick had his own key to Jonny’s place after that one time he got locked out and left a spare with Patrick.


Jonny tried to grouch with false bravado that he could have totally driven himself home. But a few minutes in—he had to close his eyes because the movement of the road got him nauseous.


“You’re not fucking babysitting me, asshole.” Jonny tried to shove Patrick back through the front door when they arrived.


“Dude. Would you stop, please. I can’t with this ‘I don’t need help shit’, you literally took 30 seconds to find your light switch. Come off it.” Patrick’s anger must have shown on his face. With the minimal awareness Jonny was able to cultivate, he picked up on that at least.


Patrick stayed at Jonny’s that night. He fetched him water, and closed his blinds, and made sure all his lights were dimmed low. Jonny responded to the whole thing with outright death glares. He made sure Andre was called and that she was on her way before Patrick had to leave for Nashville.


When Patrick asked, Jonny told him that Lindsey was on back to back jobs and pulled up the get well soon video from Cancun that he had sent Jonny. Patrick knew then that Jonny hadn’t told him how serious it was. Jonny still couldn’t look at the T.V. without getting a headache.


They lost in Nashville. But won in New York and Columbus. They kept the winning up against The Blues and Detriot but started a massive loosing streak against The Stars at home.


Jonny got into a car accident before the game.


The media wouldn’t stop asking about Toews and even Seguin looked a little apologetic as he shook Patrick’s hand in the line.


After an embarrassing loss to The Ducks (the ducks!), they were at home for a game against Toronto. Patrick was fucking relieved. The coaches were trying him on as a center—a position that was so unnatural to Patrick it felt like learning hockey all over again. He wanted to sleep in his own bed if he was going to work that hard. He also wanted to see Jonny, if only to tear him a new one about the fucking accident. Even his sisters were asking after him, sensing like the rest of Chicago that the injury was more serious than the front office let on.


By the time Patrick got home, a call from an unknown number came through on his cell.


“Hello?” He answered wearily, half-way stripped down for a shower.


“Patrick? This is Andre.” Andre’s pretty accent and firm tone came through the line.


Patrick’s spine straightened, “Yeah, it’s me. Everything alright?”


Andre sighed. It sounded so much like Jonny’s exasperated sigh that Patrick smiled despite his worry. “Jonathan is being difficult. I thought seeing a friend might help.”


“Let me guess, he’s not letting you do anything for him without a fight.” He was already calculating how long his shower would take and how quickly he could get over to Jonny’s place.




“I can be over an hour, if you think it’ll help.” Patrick offered.


“Yes that would be wonderful.”


“Alright, see you soon.” Patrick hustled through his shower and getting changed. He imagine Jonny trying to do illogical things like lifting weights, or going for a jog, or watching a stupid fishing documentary.


Driving his fucking car.


By the time Patrick was pulling into Jonny’s driveway, he was actually pissed as fuck at the dude. What kind of guy is so insufferable after two weeks that his own mother called for back-up?


Patrick stomped through the front door on fire and was completely unsurprised when Jonny’s white hot fury met him that the door.


“She shouldn’t have fucking called you.” Jonny growled at Patrick, who was barely two steps in his foyer.


“Well apparently you are so much of a fucking monster that she had to call reinforcements. What’s your deal dude? You have a fucking concussion, can you let people help you please?”


Jonny reared back, clearly angsting for a fight. Patrick hadn’t remembered him this burning since rookie year. “What the fuck do you know, asshole? I have been letting people help me, I know myself and I know my fucking limits.”


“Your limits? Then why the fuck is your totaled car all over The Chicago Tribune right now?” Patrick shouted back.


“Go the fuck home, you have your own shit to worry about! I don’t need to hear shit from you too!”


“My own shit? What shit?”


“Your fucking game, dude. Try skating like you’ve played hockey before and pull your weight at the center.” Jonny spit back.


Oh. No he fucking didn’t. “I would fucking punch you right now if you didn’t have a fucking traumatic brain injury you self righteous prick. And who do I have to thank for being in the center right now, huh?”


“I didn’t give myself a concussion, you dick!”


“No you didn’t! But you have one now so stop trying to fake it till you make it and deal with it. Jesus, I never thought you’d be this fucking lazy. Super weak bro. You’re trying to, like deny it’s even a thing.”


“Get out of my fucking house, Kaner. I didn’t ask you to come and I don’t need your fucking medical advice.”


“I’m not leaving bitchface. Andre invited me and she like gave birth to you so she has seniority here.” Patrick raised his voice, “Andre! Feel free to take a break from your asshole son, I’ve got him.”


Jonny’s eyes turned murderous.


Andre peaked around the corner, her purse and jacket in hand. “I’m going to pick up a few things from the market. Patrick, do you like duck?”


“Yup. Love it.” Patrick smiled brightly.


“Very well. Don’t kill each other please.” Andre kissed Jonny on the cheek (the dude stayed stoic and unresponsive) and she did the same to Patrick.


They fumed at each other for the long seconds it took for Andre to walk past them in the foyer and calmly shut the door behind her.


“Jonny.” Patrick rubbed his face and switched tactics. Jonny responded well to taking care of other people as a means of taking care of himself. It was worth a shot. “Will you please just do as your told with this shit. I want you back before the playoffs. We need you better, I need you better. You’re right, I’m a fucking shit center.”


Jonny looked away and rubbed the back of his neck. “You don’t know how fucking infuriating this shit is. I can’t even fucking cook without getting a headache. I don’t want to be like—“ He covered his mouth with his hand.


“Crosby is still the best fucking player in the league. Concussion or not.” Patrick stepped forward and tentatively ran his hands up and down Jonny’s arms. “If anyone can get back on this ice before playoffs, you can. But you have to do it right or you’ll be out again. You need your brain for hockey, idiot.”


Jonny’s jaw clenched. “I can’t believe my mom called you.”


Patrick shrugged. “You have to know how impossible you are.” Patrick exaggerated his pathetic yawn but probably didn’t have to exaggerate the slump of his body. Fighting with Jonny right after an away game was not wise. “I need a post-game nap. And then food. And then you have to help me with this stupid center position because it’s killing my fucking soul.”


Jonny rubbed the back of Patrick’s head. “You’re doing fine. I didn’t mean—“


“Oh my god stop, you look constipated when you apologize. Come on.”


They snuggled in Jonny’s bed. Patrick forced Jonny to big spoon him and convinced him not to set an alarm. Said they would “awaken to the smell of delicious duck”. Jonny rolled his eyes but complied.


When they woke up, it was dinnertime. The darkness and the room disoriented Patrick, but Jonny’s tightening arms reminded him why he was there.


“You ready for food?” Patrick whispered, voice raspy with sleep.


“Yeah.” Jonny rumbled.


Patrick turned in Jonny’s arms. Jonny’s eyes were closed, dark lashes casting shadows over his cheeks. When his eyes blinked open, Patrick stared back feeling like a moment was happening, something looming and yet fragile at the same time. The fight was out of Jonny’s eyes now, replaced by a firm determination that Patrick had seen before.


“Thanks for coming.” Jonny’s open palm dragged over Patrick’s arm, past his shoulder, until it rested cupping his jaw.


“Course Jonny.”


Then Jonny kissed him on the mouth. Nothing sexy or lust filled. A thank you, more than anything. Maybe an apology too. Patrick kissed back, feeling a tingling in his stomach but nothing further south.


When they emerged downstairs—Patrick’s ridiculous hair untamed and Jonny’s bashful shuffling, Andre didn’t comment on their behavior. She just smiled and told them to sit and put duck and vegetables and whole grain rice in front of them.


She nodded along when Jonny gave Patrick pointers on his game, and smiled when Patrick chirped Jonny for just being jealous that Patrick is a way hotter center than Jonny could ever be.


“I’d take better over hotter any day, dipshit.” Jonny retorted.


“Of course you would.” Patrick rolled his eyes at Andre who patted him on the back of the hand like one might pet a dog, good boy.


Jonny was out 22 games in total.


He came back for the miserable games against the Coyotes and then the season was over—they were out of the playoffs. Patrick had never been so relieved for something in his life. Even though there were whispers of a lock-out, Patrick knew Jonny would be back in it. He was rusty when he returned this season, but he’d be so on for the next. They were going back for the cup and Patrick wasn’t going to hold anything back. They had it in them to bring a hockey dynasty to Chicago, and Patrick intended to do it.


Chapter Text

2012-2013 Season


The lockout was announced and no one was surprised. Patrick’s agent had already lined up a team that he could play for abroad. Both his agent and Jonny agreed that Patrick was not disciplined enough to train on his own during the months off.


“Come on, Kaner.” Johnny said, “Tell me right now that after the summer you aren’t itching for a game.”


“We would do pick-up games.” Patrick argued half-heartedly.


Jonny slanted him with a disbelieving look, “Kaner, you live for the competition. That’s when you perform the best. You can’t get by on pick up games, are you serious?”


“Okay know-it-all, what about you? You can’t tell me you’re any different.” Patrick scoffed.


“Are you kidding? I would go abroad in a heartbeat.” Jonny gestured to his head, “But this isn’t a hundred percent yet.”

Patrick clenched his jaw—the memory of that game flashing bright. It fucking ruined so much. It was still ruining things, even now, even after so much lost time.


“And besides,” Jonny continued, smiling like he knew what Patrick was thinking, “I am very disciplined when I train on my own. I’ll be a beast when you get back.”


Patrick smiled. Thinking of how good Jonny was with his meal-plan, how he mother-henned the rookies and gave Patrick disapproving looks when he bought them alcohol. He imagined Jonny sending him videos when he did something particularly impressive in the gym. Patrick wondered if Lindsey would join him sometimes, keep him company. For whatever reason, Patrick felt jealous about that thought—he almost wanted to say that he could stay and be good if Jonny and him were roommates again.


But that wasn’t right.


“Alright, alright. I’ll tell Brisson to call Biel.”



Patrick's mom came with him to Biel. At first she said she would go with him just to help him set up, do a little vacationing since the girls were grown and could handle themselves. But, it became clear that she wanted to make it an extended trip.


"I just never get to see you these days." His mom said. Her expression had a bittersweet quality to it—the same one she wore when she was looking back at family Christmas photos.


"She wants the trip to Europe I never gave her!" His dad shouted from the kitchen.


His mom rolled her eyes, "I wanted to go to Italy for our honeymoon. Not the entirety of Europe. Italy!"


"Well. We had fun in Hawaii, I think." Patrick’s dad rounded the corner with two blue moons and handed one to Patrick as he said, "Just let her come Patty, she'll nag you to the grave if you don't."


Patrick's mom shoved his dad's shoulder, "Enough from you."


Patrick's dad grinned at him and winked. "She's fun to travel with, I promise."




Surprisingly, it was easy to fall into a routine with his mom. She had been to so many games over his career that he forgot what it was like to have her around for things unrelated to hockey. Like finding a place to buy groceries or visiting the neighboring towns around Switzerland. She sort of quasi-adopted Seguin and made him join them for dinner a few nights a week. She was surprisingly chill about him going out and even, horrifically, DDed him and Seguin home one night from the bars. No one recognized him in Switzerland--it was a blissful relief.


She was also there the night that Seguin and Patrick got drunk on his back porch and Seguin got to talking about Jamie Benn and he missed him and how "that dude it going to fucking kill me."


Patrick was tipsy for sure, had been looking at the twinkling lights of Biel and thinking about the Chicago skyline. He was not so loaded, however, that he couldn't put the pieces together. "You and Benn have something going on?"


Seguin blinked at him, eyes foggy and young. "No. But sometimes I think..." Seguin shook his head and took another pull from his beer. "Don't listen to me Kaner, I'm saying weird fucking shit." He giggled nervously. But Patrick had known him long enough that he could tell it wasn’t his normal goofy-laugh, the one that rolled in his throat. It was something tight and anxious.


Patrick's mom was reading a book on the other end of the porch, but he knew she could hear him anyway especially if she was doing that creepy mother thing where she could hear you curse from miles away.


"I've hooked up with people in the NHL before. You gotta be careful with it, but, it’s not a terrible idea."


Seguin's eyes snapped to Patrick's, more alert than a drunk person should be capable of. "You and uh T--"


"Yeah." Patrick cut him off. "It was good. It worked out. But someone has to put their neck out."


Seguin chuckled. "That was definitely you, asshat. You probably bullied the dude into it."


"Nah. Everyone wants a piece of this." Patrick smirked and motioned to his body, waggling his eyebrows for effect.


Seguin laughed with him. But after another sip of beer, his eyes turned somber. "Its different for me." He cleared his throat, eyes slanting to Patrick with so much vulnerability. "It'd be messier."


Ah. So Seguin had feelings. That was a little snag, a lot to put at stake. "Then it’s even more worth the shot. You can't spend your life wondering, dude." Patrick took another pull from his beer, surprised that at how much he believed his own words.


Seguin sighed, head rolling back on his chair, one arm crossed around his middle. "You're right, you're right."


Patrick's mom flipped a page in her book and the Switzerland air smelled like the bakery down the street. Memories of Jonny flitted in Patrick's mind. It was good, what they had going. No one would every fully understand what it was like to be a professional athlete, a hockey player, one of the best in the league. But Jonny did--he understood better than anyone else possibly could. And, while the beginning was rough, Patrick liked Jonny, respected him, enjoyed his company. The sex was other level and...yeah. Patrick hadn't ever thought to regret it. He treasured it, actually. Having someone on the team that he knew he could bring anything to.


"You never wanted more with.... with him?" Seguin wondered and watched Patrick's face intently.


Patrick licked his lips, bit the inside of the bottom one and released it before saying. "We've got other things going right now. But who knows, right?" And once again, the answer surprised the shit out of Patrick. Like what the actual hell? But… he did sort of always think that maybe. Maybe, he and Jonny would eventually pick things back up again. Maybe not exactly like it was before but they were different, more mature. Patrick would want to, one day. The thought startled him enough that he cleared his throat and offered to call Seguin a cab.


Seguin bro-hugged him at the door and called out into the apartment to thank Patrick's mom for the food.


When Patrick stepped inside, his mom was cleaning off the cheeseboard and wiping down the counter. She looked up at him when he stepped past the doorway. He shuffled a bit, struggling with the words he knew he should say. There was no way she hadn't heard, he should explain--


"We've known about you being with boys since you were 16, darling." His mom smiled, her eyes so much like Ericka's. "I have to say I had my suspicions about Jonny, but didn't know for sure."


Patrick wrestled with his lips--a nervous habit that got worse with his mom. "Yeah." To Patrick's utter shock, his throat was tight. He'd never actually said anything to his parents about liking guys and he suddenly felt little and scared.


"Sweetheart." She chided him as she pulled him into a hug. "It's okay. It's okay." She rubbed his back in calming circles and Patrick actually fucking cried. Cried because he didn't realize that he'd been avoiding this--always thinking that maybe there would be a girl wearing his ring at the end of the day and the rest of it would be irrelevant. It didn’t matter that she was inches shorter than him now. She was still his mom and he felt 11 years old when his coach said if he didn’t fill out more he might not get to play professional hockey.


She was crying too. Patrick noticed when he pulled back.


"I like Jonny." She stated simply. Which was so far from the point Patrick actually choked on his laugh.


"It's not like that, mom."


"Oh." She blinked a little but smiled brightly again. "Well. If it were, you'd have our approval. He's got a good head on his shoulders and anyone would be lucky to have him." She smirked and added, "You're alright too."


"Wow, thanks mom." Patrick laughed (more like a shaky intake of breath) and went out to the porch to collect the beer bottles so that he could dump them and recycle them. When he returned he added, "I wasn't, I didn't think you'd be...mad or anything, I just..." Patrick didn't really know but for a long time he didn't think it was worth mentioning. It was something he figured out on his own and something that he figured his parents never needed to know about. But with Seguin sitting there, struggling with all the ways it might not be okay, Patrick felt like he had to say something, make it okay for him to want who he wanted.


"We're weren't offended, hun. Just curious." His mom smiled softly, almost to herself. "I had suspected for a while."


"Before high school?" Patrick quirked an eyebrow, he didn't have any particular memories of liking guys before 14.


"Oh definitely." His mom smiled to herself. "You’d watch all the princess movies with the girls and all of you would compare who you thought the cutest princes were and you would argue so hard for Kocoum who wasn't even a prince."


"He was definitely the hottest Disney character." Patrick defended, the old argument coming to his lips before he could stop it.


His mom's eyebrow quirked, challenging, "You weren't shy about your opinions then, either." She ran her fingers through his short curls, "And I don't know, I thought that maybe, you'd like boys or boys and girls. All I know is you genuinely thought he was cute and that probably meant something."


Patrick shook his head, "Or, I was in a house with only girls who dictated every movie we ever watched and all the discussions ever."


His mom laughed loudly. "I was willing to wait for it to pan out."


They finished up in the kitchen. Patrick emptied the trash and brought it out and his mom tidied up the porch and turned off the lights. When she asked, Patrick confirmed that he was going to take a shower, so she used the restroom first. As she was turning in and Patrick was grabbing his towel from his room, she wished him goodnight.


"See you tomorrow, hun. Love you."


"Love you too."


She smiled warmly and shut her bedroom door. It was only when Patrick stepped into the shower, hot water relaxing his muscles that he realized that things were going to be totally normal between them. That she still loved him and probably his dad would too. That their catholic upbringing might have had some bearing on their moral values but very little on their views of Patrick sleeping with guys. Patrick leaned his forehead against the tile and exhaled. He hadn't realized he was worried about it, couldn't even imagine what others guys went through, what Jonny went through. His breath stuttered to think of Seguin in the All-Star locker room, wanting a dude from another team and not knowing if that would be okay.


Patrick figured it was high time to contact You Can Play when he got back to Chicago.


After he showered, exhausted from the drinking and the crying, he laid on his bed and stared at the ceiling.


There was only one thing that was going to make him feel better. But he was uncomfortable enough by the idea that he stalled out.


20 minutes passed and he caved, thumb scrolling through his contacts until he landed on Jonny's name. He hit facetime and wasn't surprised that Jonny picked up on the second ring. It was only 7:00pm, Jonny was likely finishing dinner.


"Sup." Jonny's face was lit with blue--probably from the T.V. and he looked like he was eating some disgusting health food.


"Hey." Patrick tried for a watery smile.


"Everything good?" Jonny's jaw stopped chewing and it looked like he was analyzing Patrick's face.


"Yeah. I, uh, just came out to my mom?"


Jonny swallowed. His big eyes rounded with concern, "How'd it go?"


"Good. Really good. She already knew. It wasn't a big thing, really. I just..." Wanted to tell you. "I just thought about how maybe I was an asshole when you told me you came out to your parents.   I didn't know--"


"It's fine. It actually kind of helped that you acted like everything was going to be fine." Jonny blinked, his eyes sharpening, "You cried?"


Patrick laughed into his hand, "Yeah. Totally did."


"But everything's alright?" Jonny cocked his head. Patrick smiled at him, remembered that he did that when he was trying to sort something out that wasn't quite making sense.


"Yeah. It's good. It's good." Patrick sighed back into his pillows. "Want some Biel gossip?"


Jonny's mouth quirked, "Yeah, what's up?"


"Seguin's totally got the hots for Benn. He fessed up tonight."


Jonny rolled his eyes. "Old news. Spotted that from a mile away."


"You never said anything!" Patrick responded, affronted. "How did you know?"


"Kid's obvious." Jonny scoffed, all superior like he was suddenly the expert on guys on the down-low. “He had crush eyes over Benn the entire all-star weekend.”


"Whatever. Crush eyes? You dork."


They talked for another hour and then Patrick had to end the call because getting to bed at 2:00am with a 10am practice was not a great way to start the day.


"Heard the lock-out will be ending soon." Jonny said before Patrick ended the call.


"Fucking finally. I miss real peanut butter. And avocados." Patrick grouched.


"We'll grab lunch at Mari's when you're back, yeah?"


"Yeah, for sure dude."


Jonny's mouth formed that constipated half smile that Patrick kinda loved. Only those very versed in anything Jonny would recognize it as a smile but it totally was one. It was the best kind of one because he only used it when real shit had been discussed and he wanted to like, show how much he appreciated it.


"Night Tazer."


"Night Peeks, talk to you later."





The lockout felt long after that. Benn was playing for a team in Germany and invited Seguin to visit him shortly after his and Seguin’s conversation on the porch. From the ridiculous grin that Seguin wouldn't stop sporting whenever he looked at his phone--something had changed.


When Patrick asked, Seguin blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. "It wasn't pretty, dude. I got drunk and kind of attacked him with my mouth." Seguin shrugged, face split so wide in a smile. "He said he'd been thinking about it for a while."


While a nice ending to an otherwise sad and angsty build-up--Patrick had to selfishly admit that it made Biel and the lockout all the more depressing. Seguin spent every collection of off days hopping on a train to Germany and Patrick wasted way too much time stalking Jonny and Lindsey's instagram accounts.


Lindsey had a public insta account, where Jonny only ever appeared once. (Which was a funny picture because Lindsey acted like he had randomly met Jonny out in Chicago, got an autograph and a picture and generally made it seem like Jonny was some cute, unobtainable straight guy that wasn't afraid to take a picture with a gay dude. Excellent chirping material all around). Lindsey also had a private account, where him and Jonny were sickly handsome in beautiful places around the world. The friend list was limited to Jonny's family, Lindsey's roommates, Patrick and fucking T.J. Oshie.


When the deal finally came through marking the end of the lockout--Patrick couldn't pack fast enough. He thought maybe his mom felt the same because she didn't even extend her trip and badger Patrick's dad to finally come out to Italy like she had originally intended.


"It'll be good to be home." She sighed as she hugged him. They were on separate flights out.


"Thanks for coming mom." And Patrick really really meant it.




Jonny couldn't pick him up from the airport because he had some charity event downtown. Sharpy scooped him in his dad car, smiling when Patrick rolled his eyes.


"Peekaboo, we missed you!"


Patrick smiled as he slid into the SUV, tired but so glad to be back.


"Thanks for getting me. How have things been with you, dude?"


Patrick was of course in a group chat with some of the boys, so had some sense of general life updates. But Sharpy was good and rattled on about the kids and Abby's new gardening project and how some of the boys in Chicago came by to help them get everything together. "Oh, and the girls want a dog. So we'll probably be getting one of those soon." He rolled his eyes.


"What a perfect Canadian boy." Patrick chirped.


"Are you kidding? Perfect Canadian boys move back to Canada."


"Like you wont eventually." Patrick shook his head. Even Jonny probably wouldn't stay state-side. For all his complaining about American politics and America’s determination to not be a part of the global community.


Sharpy just smiled, "Glad to have you back Kaner. Jonny was no fun without you."




Sharpy shook his head. "Oh, but it was so much worse than we thought it would be. His eyes were crazy for the first two months, like Kaner, he was laying down cardio gauntlets to the younger guys, the trainers had to tell him to cut it out. When he came to my house, he made my kid get on his back while he did laps!" Sharpy gestured around the steering wheel, "Had to sit him down and tell him to knock it off."


Patrick wheezed with laughter. "He's so ridiculous."


"Don't know how you put up with him."


Sharpy didn't come up after dropping Patrick off. Said he was sure Patrick wanted to unwind on his own. Patrick was thankful--happy to be back in his shower, be able to sit on his couch. The hours flew by unexpectedly--what with Patrick showering, making a grocery list, getting his phone and computer back on his wifi and napping of course--which was going to be totally shit for his jetlag.


Someone knocked on his door just as Patrick was debating whether he should order-in or muscle up and go shopping.




Jonny's voice rumbled through the door, "Kaner."


Patrick opened the door smiling, and pulled Jonny into a hug as Jonny crossed the threshold. "Dude, I thought you had your thing."


"Yeah I finished up. Was fucking starving. Wanna get food?"


"Fucking yes dude, I've got nothing here." Patrick took in Jonny for a minute, scanning over his broad shoulders his sun-kissed skin (a sin given that it was October in Chicago). "You bulked out, dude. You look great."


Jonny smiled crookedly, "I really pushed it. The trainers are happy."


"Where we headed?" Patrick asked, voice raised as he trailed back to his bedroom for different pants and shoes. He could hear Jonny trailing him down the hall.


"We have to jump right in, so maybe real-strict on the meal plan."





They decided on a nicer spot. The kind of place that asked them if they preferred black or white napkins. For the privacy and the ability to special-order, it was worth all the extra-stuff. People were buzzing in Chicago because the lockout had ended and the Blackhawks looked really good--it meant more reporters and fans would be looking for them. Patrick shared their optimism, feeling this tingling energy like they could do it again, like they would do it again. He said as much to Jonny.


Jonny nodded into his menu, "I get you. We've got a tight first and second line. Everyone's looking good health wise."


Patrick raised his eyebrows, "You included?"


Jonny met his gaze, eyes appropriately somber, "I took care of it, Kaner. I'm good to go."


Patrick scoffed, "You sound like a mob boss."


After they ordered and got a fair amount of shop-talk out of the way, Jonny asked, "How's Amanda? You haven't mentioned her much."


Patrick shrugged one shoulder, "She came out to Biel for my birthday and said she would come out again but then her schedule was too tight for another visit through." Patrick bit his lip, struggling with the words that he wanted to say but was unsure if Jonny would understand. "I, um, I don't think we'll be together too much longer."


Jonny paused with his water glass mid-air, but recovered quickly and took a sip, "Why not?"


"Just a feeling." The waiter came with their food, setting each of their plates down expertly. He checked if they needed anything else, smiling professionally the whole time.


"So, uh," Jonny started, looked awkward as hell, "You still want to be in it, but you think she doesn't?"


"Sort-of. It just feels like we've run our course. I dunno, I sound stupid. She just visited in Biel and, I dunno, it was more friendly than anything. We'll see. She's coming in a few days--she's not one to let things sit there and I know she felt it too."


Jonny nodded, fork and knife cutting his chicken. "You seem... at peace with it, I guess."


Patrick smiled around the bite in his mouth. "It wasn't anything serious. But I do care for her, we're friends for sure. So, I guess I'm hoping that part of it can continue at least. It's never been messy between us so I don't want it to be now."


They were both quiet for a couple of beats.


Attempting to get back into conversation and genuinely curious, Patrick waggled his eyebrows and asked, "What about you and Linds? I saw you two went to fucking Hawaii."


"We had fun." Jonny smirked, "He was shooting there so I got to do some exploring on my own. I made a new record with these hiking guides. Fastest tourist they every took hiking the Waimano Falls Trail." He beamed, so fucking proud of himself.


"That's because I wasn't there to beat you."


"Fuck you, you lazy fuck, you'd have quit half-way through to find a fucking bar." Jonny challenged.


"Not if it meant beating you! Besides, I've got the build for hiking. I'm leaner. Got better lung capacity." Patrick cackled as Jonny's expression turned combative. There were few things in the world that were more enjoyable than riling up Jonathan Toews. He was still so easy for it.


"Yeah, but you hate cardio. You're all sprint, no marathon." And Jonny was legitimately debating Patrick's ability to beat him on some hiking trail in Hawaii that Patrick had never even heard of before dinner. Patrick had no idea if he could have actually beaten Jonny or not, but he knew if he were there, he would have made Jonny really work for it.


"What was your time? I'll have to go and do it myself next off-season."


Jonny twisted his mouth. "You'll just say that you beat me. There's no quality control at all."


"Oh my god, dude, you could be lying right now about even finishing the trail--"


"I finished!" Jonny looked so affronted, Patrick laughed outright.


"Well the point is, how do I know that? I have to take your word for it." Patrick gestured with fork and knife still in his hands. "Do the guides, like keep a log of their best performing tourists? Otherwise, it's just what you say they said."


Jonny aggressively chewed his asparagus. "I'll go with you." He decided with finality. "That way we both know the other didn't cheat."


"Fucking christ you're so fucking crazy." Patrick grumbled. And it wasn't lost on him that Jonny had conveniently diverted the topic of Lindsey entirely. Patrick figured that Jonny didn't want to make him feel bad after what he shared about Amanda. Especially if him and Lindsey were going strong. Another time, Patrick intended to get the update.





The training schedule was demanding from the top. The season was shortened and teams had to hustle to fit the games in. Patrick didn't hate the idea--he was a game oriented player, needing the pressure to heighten his performance. Jonny was a practitioner, rote repetition until he could do it every time, including game time. The UC felt good around them both. They skated a few warm-up laps, shoulder to shoulder not saying a word. There was this clicking in his chest, this settling.


Coach Q watched their practice with a critical eye and a dim smile.


They were good. The extra time had given enough of a recovery to some of their key players that they were more than ready for the season. Shortened schedule or not, the Stanly Cup was there for the taking.


After practice, Jonny and the guys wanted to grab lunch--kind of a core group only. Hossa, Duncs, Sharpy, Seabs, Shawzy, and Bolligs. They shot the shit--exchanging chirps and barbs. Seabs got in a long back and forth with Duncs about Patrick's time in Biel. Essentially all mom jokes that Patrick had to get dramatically defensive about on principle. His mom was the shit—he felt the need to defend her awesomeness and her honor.


"You sleeping easier now that Kaner's back in the nest, Tazer?" Hossa teased.


"Tazer's prodigal son, returned!" Shawzy jumped in.


Bolligs scoffed, "Prodigal son? More like old wife. These two are gonna be at each other's throats by the end of next practice."


The guys hummed in agreement. Sharpy, bastard that he was said, "They like it though."


"You guys are giving the media everything they fucking want." Duncs shook his head and smiled.


"Now. Stop making excuses Duncs." Kaner cut in. "Jonny and I are hotter than all you shitheads. That's why we get media time." He grinned arrogantly.


Hossa booed, "Bullshit, when Sharp puts on a turtle neck, you two are left in the dust."


"All hail the turtle neck." Bolligs and Shawzy toasted at the same time, then snickered like kids to each other.


"That's an unfair assessment Hossa." Jonny quipped back--tone so serious and dry. "None of you have seen me in a turtle neck."


"Turtle neck off!" Patrick shouted. And they divulged into all the ways that they intended to assess level of attractiveness via turtle neck wearing abilities. Essentially, Patrick, Jonny and Sharp would have to wear turtle necks for the rest of the fucking season. One measure was going to be complements by Lulu, the UC janitor, and Paul the back door security guard who always greeted them with a serious of motivational pep talks mixed with dad compliments. Another would be likes on instagram.


Naturally, their antics devolved from there and Patrick was still smiling when he got in his car to leave.


Jonny texted him when Patrick was on the way home. He didn't check it until he crossed the threshold to his apartment.


Sharpy may have the turtle neck on you. But you rock a henley like nobody else on the team.


Patrick smiled, responding: haha thanks bro. And for the record--you'd win a topless contest any day.


You know it. Jonny replied instantly.


Patrick wasn’t proud of it. He didn’t know what it meant—maybe didn’t want to know what it meant. But something about seeing Jonny, about thinking of him without a shirt had Patrick digging through his computer for the video file from rookie year. He brought his computer to the bedroom and stripped down. It had been charging while he was out so he didn’t need to rummage around for his charger.


He knew there was something wrong about it, but he watched their video with the expressed intention of getting himself off to it. He cupped his cock, already filled and wet at the tip by the time he pressed play. And he fucking started jerking himself off to a 20-year-old Jonny giving him a beautiful edge job those years ago.


Patrick’s eyes fluttered, trying to pull up the memory for himself.


He massaged his balls, felt how high and tight they were. He stroked his thumb on the underside of his cock and watched Jonny suck and bite at his nipples, ached to feel it again. God, Jonny got him so good, made it so good for him. Patrick groaned and squeezed his fist tighter around his cock.


Then, then, Patrick heard his own voice come through the video. A broken, “Nnn, I can’t Jonny, I can’t, please.” His mouth was open, his lips reddened and puffy, his eyes glazed over. God he looked so wrecked, so needy.


And then Jonny nuzzled against Patrick’s cheek, looking at him so proudly. His voice was raspy and low but Patrick had his volume turned up so he could hear when Jonny said, “You’re doing so fucking good Pat.”


And Patrick came so fast he yelped in shock.


So. There was that.





Amanda didn't tell him when her flight landed, said she had to do a couple of things. She asked if Patrick was around in the afternoon, asked if she could come over then.


It was the closest to a "we need to talk" conversation than anything Patrick had ever heard before.


Patrick put some thought into it, after his conversation with Jonny. Had really tried to nail down what felt different. And if Patrick were being honest--if felt like Amanda wasn't fully there with him anymore. Like maybe there was someone else and everything she did with Patrick didn't feel as right, as shiny, and fun. Amanda certainly hadn't been looking for anyone. But she was out a lot, friendly, gorgeous.


By the time Amanda walked through his front door, unlocked as he had promised, Patrick knew what she was going to say.


She knew that he knew. She followed him to the couch, one they had fucked on just before he left for Biel, and instead of sitting beside him, she climbed onto his lap.


"I'm gonna miss you." She whispered.


"Well, fuck I'm not dying you're just leaving me." Patrick was surprised to find that despite his voice sounding shaky, he wasn't shattered by her graceful bow out. Not in the ways an outsider might expect.


Amanda sighed sadly.


"So, who are they?" Patrick asked. Despite it all, Amanda was a friend and he hoped after a little time they could still be friends.


Amanda smiled, her eyes lighting. Her bracelets jingled as she slide sideways so that her bum was on the cushion beside Patrick's but her legs were still draped over his lap. "She's my forever girl. I just know it."


Patrick nodded. "How?"


She pushed her hair back and rested her cheek against the back of the couch. "Have you ever met someone that you know you could wake up to everyday?" He warm brown eyes bore into his.


Patrick was about to shoot something snarky back like, well, if I had then why are we here right now? But he paused instead. He thought about Johnny once like that. Not exactly in those terms but...he could kiss Jonathan Toews for the rest of his life. If the universe gods came down in all their glory and said that he could only kiss one person for the rest of his life, Tazer hands down. No one made him feel like Johnny did while they kissed him and, even if there were better out there, Patrick wouldn't feel like he'd settled. If he was metaphorically forced to make that deal, which he wasn't. Patrick swallowed at the unwelcome revelation.


"I get it." He settled on. "So what's her deal?"


Amanda laughed, "Are we seriously having this conversation. I was like, ready to cry."


"Nah." Patrick shook his head, "It's never been like that with us Mands, and I'm not trying to make it like that now."


She nodded, that gorgeous flirty smile making her eyes dance. "She's a tattoo artist and a graffiti artist and she's a bad ass and she makes me want to like buy a house so that she can do bad ass graffiti all over it."


"Holy shit, you're sprung girl."


"Totally." She bit her lip. "I'm making a line of jewelry named after her. It's horribly edgy and alternative."


Patrick's eyebrows shot up. Because Amanda, beachy California-native, Ms. my style is global-chic get it right, was replaced by a total idiot in love. "You're so love dumb right now."


"Sure am."


Patrick bumped her shoulder, "Sounds worth it though."


"For sure."


They took some time, going through the good stuff. Really, Patrick realized partway through reminiscing about her friend's party in Pilsen that one time, that there weren't really any bad times. There were a few challenges with the distance and coordination and some frustrating moments of, what the fuck I thought you said google said this ice cream place was open late you idiot.... but overall...


"Hey, do you think it's weird that things were never...hard. Like, with us?"


Amanda quirked her lips. "No. I think it just means we both knew it wasn't serious."


Patrick bobbed his head in agreement. Amanda had always been easy to be with, to go out with, to fuck. But somewhere along the line Patrick forgot that everything that he'd ever loved, that had ever been worth it, had been so fucking hard sometimes. Hockey, mostly. But some of the relationships he had with friends, his family....Johnny.


"You're right, Mands. You're totally right."


She smiled so wide Patrick thought her eyes were gonna disappear. And then she pecked him on the lips--a see you later--more than anything.


"We're gonna be friends." She stated firmly as she stood, hands on her hips, bracelets chiming.


"We already are, you freak."




Patrick spent the rest of the evening staring at a blank T.V. screen and trying to contemplate the meaning of life as he knew it. Mostly, he tried to figure out a. why did he let Johnny convince him to keep honey nut cheerios in his pantry instead of lucky charms and b. how the fuck did he actually feel about said Jonathan Toews.


Initially, his body supplied a shiver of way to fucking uptight but ass that don't quit—as a general synopsis. But his chest. Something lodged in his chest begged further contemplation. Like...Johnny wasn't the hottest guy in the world. But Patrick couldn’t remember one of their sexy times without getting pretty hard pretty fucking fast. Johnny was also fucking annoying as fuck, uppity and particular and bossy. But that was kinda hot too? Also his kissing, Patrick had to revisit that realization and spend a few good minutes pulling up the sensory memories. The way his lips were firm and controlling but... caring? Patrick was also pretty sure that he'd try any kinky thing in the fucking book if Johnny were the one doing it with him.


Was Patrick.... did Patrick....


Maybe Patrick liked Johnny, like more seriously than he thought? He decided the only thing to do was to investigate this possible issue, starting the next day at practice.





That plan was only slight de-railed because apparently his teammates were nosey mother fuckers that already knew that Amanda was with someone new.


"Kaner, bro, real sorry, that chick she's with looks crazy as fuck." Duncs tried to console him.


"No worries dude, I'm good."


"Course you are, bro, course." Hozzy kept patting his shoulder like at any moment Patrick would break down.


Patrick chanced a glance around. Everyone except Johnny looked like they were having a pity party for him. Well, points to Johnny then for knowing him better than anyone on the team (which wasn't a real accomplishment but whatever).


"Guys, I'm serious. Amanda and I had an understanding, we're good."


Sharpy, bless his motherfucking bro heart of hearts shouted from his stall, "Peeks just wants us to forget that Amanda's new chick looks like she can beat someone up better than Kaner can.”


"Damn straight she can Sharpy." Patrick wiggled his fingers like he was doing a jazz move, "I've got soft hands, bro."


The room laughed a little too loud, trying to encourage the chirping as opposed to whatever emotional break-down they expected him to have.


Before getting on for warm-ups, Johnny pulled beside him, voice pitched low, "You good, Kaner, really?"


"Yeah." Patrick smiled. "I'm fine."


Johnny nodded and squeezed his shoulder, "You free to grab food after then?"


"No fucking vegan, dude. I'm a man suffering from heartbreak, right?" Patrick winked, a shit eating grin splitting his face, mouth guard sticking out right in the middle.


"Yeah, yeah, milk it while you can Kaner." Johnny skated off smirking.


So there was that little thing to add to the one really made Kaner feel as light as Johnny did. Granted, there weren't many people that could get him seething with anger and Johnny was in that category too. But...maybe the complexity was what made it good?


He didn’t really get the chance to explore his feelings for Jonny. They were quickly on the road with a back-breaking schedule that had him and Jonny passed out when they weren’t playing hockey.


And then just 10 games into the season—the news came.





His mom told him that she thought he'd rather know as soon as they did.


She was right, she knew that he'd have been angrier if she had kept it from him. The news made his chest ache and for the first time in a long time, maybe ever, he wondered what it would be like to just not go to The Show. To refuse to go, shrug his shoulders and go to the hotel and stay in bed. But that would mean letting the team down, Q and Johnny. He wouldn't do that, of course, but... everything felt so far away.


His mom said they found him at home. They thought it was a heart attack since he was in good health otherwise. Patrick had a ticket for him at their next home game.




Patrick didn't remove his head from the bathroom wall. He thought, randomly, that the tile could use some updating since the grout was all gross behind the sink.


"Pat." Johnny repeated. Voice gentle but firm. "You're mom just texted me. Coach is gonna give you some time, alright, but we're starting warm-ups in twenty."


Patrick sighed, felt the air release from his lungs and couldn't help but notice how fucking depressing it sounded. He thought about being on the ice, having to be so fucking focused, so on. It made him tired, and that made him want to cry.


"Kaner, please look at me." Johnny begged. Something in his tone, maybe the fear in it made Patrick pull back a bit and blink up at Johnny. His eyes were round and worried and Patrick had one awful moment where he thought about pushing at Johnny's chest, saying something shitty because just the look on his face was making his breath shake with emotion. And it pissed him off.


"Look. Kaner, hey no, look at me." Patrick glanced back, eyes a little unfocused, "I met Don a few times, I'm not saying I know him, I don't, you know that. But, I knew him enough to know that the best thing you could do for him his score him a couple goals. Maybe a hat trick even. He'd want something like that, an NHL goal in his honor. He'd, he'd like that I think."


"Johnny--" Patrick croaked. And fuck him, really, because Patrick had almost gotton to the point of not choking up but Johnny looked concerned and was talking about Don, about grandad, because he was actually fucking gone. Patrick thought that if he could just say some things to grandad, he would feel so much better. Like he could still be dead after, but he wanted to say goodbye, to tell him all the things in his heart. To thank him for everything, but especially hockey.


Johnny had his glove tucked under his arm and just as Patrick catalogued that detail he felt Johnny's bare hand brush against his cheek. "A pair of goals, Kaner, for Don, alright? You can do that easy."


Patrick swallowed around the lump in his throat and nodded. "Yeah, easy."


Johnny smiled wide, "That's right, that's good."


"Johnny?" Patrick blinked at the water along his lash line. "Can you, just tell everyone, I can't--"


"Of course. I'll let the boys know. Warm ups in twenty, yeah, you'll be there."


Patrick forced himself to take a deep breath. He didn't know about the goal thing, though Johnny was right, that would be exactly how Don would solve this problem. Say something like, "Chin up kid. You wanna do something nice for me? Win The Cup." He'd said a variation of that before, when Patrick had wanted to get him a retirement home on the lake.


"Yeah, I'm coming Taser." And then, to get himself off the unsteady ground added, "Someone's got to make you look good out there."


Johnny's eyebrows jumped a little and he smiled crocked, "Please. You owe all your pretty stats to me."


He got the pair of goals, an assist too.


And he kissed his hands and pointed up (cuz a person like grandad definitely went to heaven) and felt a little something break inside him. Grandad was gone.


Media was total shit after. The dam had broken, the numbness, and when the reporter asked, Patrick was too raw to hide the truth of it. Straight fucking bare-faced crying. And somehow he couldn't find it in him to be ashamed.


Johnny directed him through cool down. Kept a warm hand on his shoulder as he guided him through the airport. They were flying back from L.A. that evening, thank fuck. Jonny sat next to him on the plane and he couldn’t say a single fucking word. The guys on the team were quieter, out of respect, despite the 5-3 win.


Jonny drove him home from the airport since they had carpooled in. He ordered them some food on speaker phone, holding the steering wheel with one hand. The food was there when they got to Patrick's condo.


Patrick wasn't hungry, just exhausted at the thought of how fucking sad it was all going to be. His phone rang with his mom's number on the caller ID


Patrick stared at the phone, wondered how many times he could ignore it before she got worried. But Johnny, reliable, good boy Canadian Johnny, swiped the call open. "Hey Mrs. Kane"


"Oh, Johnny, is Patrick there?"


"Yeah, he's here. We were just unpacking some food." Johnny pulled out some plates from the cabinet and Patrick shook his head. Like literally, the containers they came in were already dirty. The dude was so fucking crazy.


"Good, good, I'm glad."


"Did you want to talk to him?"


Johnny made like he was going to inch the phone over to Patrick but then his mother said, "No, hun, I'm glad you're there with him, I didn't want him to be alone. Just, let him know that we're planning the funeral for a few days from now, it will fall just before the Coyotes game. If he can't get out of practice, we'll figure something out, alright. Just wait until after he's eaten. He can call me later."


"No problem Mrs. Kane, we'll figure it out. I'm sorry that….I'm just sorry, I guess." Johnny had finished opening all the cartons and waited with his hands resting on the island.


"Thank you darling, I know. Love both you boys okay."


After she clicked off, Johnny looked at Patrick, seemed to look at all of him at once. His posture on the bar stool, his hands folded in his lap, and most of all his face. He assessed him for a long time, it felt, until finally he started making him a plate.


Patrick pushed around his rice, took a couple bites of the broccoli and chicken. Johnny ate silently across him, hunched over his plate. Eventually, Johnny got them water and Gatorade. And a little after that, Johnny let Patrick be done eating, even though half his grilled chicken was left and most of his brown rice.


"Pat," Johnny said after he dropped the plates in the sink, "Just tell me what you need and I'll be able to help you with it. I'm a little outta my depth, I don't know... I just want to help."


Patrick looked over at Johnny. He was nervously scratching the back of his neck and his face was all pinched and tense in a way that somewhat resembled their rookie year. Patrick wanted to help Johnny, but helping Johnny would mean knowing how Johnny could help him and Patrick had no freaking clue.


"I'm just gonna head to bed, I think. You've been great dude, this" Patrick gestured to the food, "was good man, I appreciate it."


"Okay." But Johnny looked down, like he failed some kind of test.


Patrick couldn't really take that type of look on top of the whole grandad just died thing so he quickly offered, "You can watch a movie with me or something until I fall asleep."


"Yeah?" No one could say the boy wasn't eager. It actually made Patrick feel a little better. Somethings weren't changing. Johnny was still his friend, still awkward and well-mannered and well-meaning.


Patrick nodded and turned toward the bedroom, "Just... leave everything. I'll deal with it later."


"Sure." Johnny grabbed two gatorades from the fridge and followed Patrick down the hall to his room. The cleaning service had made his bed, thank god, Patrick was pretty sure he had needed to wash the old sheets. He didn't waste time with brushing his teeth. Just quickly stripped down to his briefs and climbed across the bed toward the pillow end. He tugged at the duvet, annoyed and frustratingly close to tears when the covers wouldn't pull down. Johnny was there though, untucking them from under the mattress in their fucking crazy military hold.


When he was finally under the covers, their cool weight settling him a touch, Patrick closed his eyes and listened to Johnny. The rustle of his sweats, his breathing. Patrick wondered if he was going to take off his shirt.


Patrick cracked his eyes open as Johnny slid in next to him. Yup, nope, only briefs.


"Uh, this okay?" Johnny hedged


Patrick just nodded, though it wasn't okay. Johnny was there, beside him, warm bronze skin within reach but...


"But, can you like..." Patrick huffed and tugged at Johnny's arm, gesturing for him to scoot over. Patrick shimmied down a little and, using the same grip, shifted Johnny's arm over his shoulder.


Johnny sighed, body sagging and readjusted them minutely so that Patrick was effectively curling around Johnny's chest. A familiar hand grazed through his hair and down his back and all of a sudden Patrick didn't want to watch a stupid fucking movie, he wanted Johnny to shove his tongue down Patrick's throat. He was all fucked up, Patrick knew, but Johnny wanted to help him and Patrick needed him to make it all go away for a second.


Johnny looked down at him as he shifted up and Patrick didn't waste a second in securing a grip behind Johnny's neck and pulling his mouth down. Johnny gasped, or maybe Patrick did, and then there was glorious tongue.


Johnny pulled back first and Patrick growled in frustration, "Kaner, do you, I mean are you s--"


"Johnny. I don't want to think right now, okay, I need to get out of my fucking head, just do that thing you do with your mouth."


Johnny's lips quirked. The concern melted off his face. "Alright, Peeks, I got you."


And Johnny kissed him. Like before but a 1,000 times better. Maybe it wasn't better, maybe it was always this good and Patrick had forgotten. Some nights he wondered if he had made it up, how good he remembered Johnny's kissing. But he hadn't, he knew now, he hadn't at all. Patrick moaned and shifted restlessly. Before he could even start to think about what more he wanted, Johnny was moving them, mouth never quitting, but body nudging and directing until Patrick was beneath Johnny's bulk. Caged down and held safe.


They kissed and kissed and kissed. Mouths moving fervently and then slow and sensual, and back up again.


"Johnny" Patrick whined, when the bulge in his briefs throbbed. "I want you to fuck me."


Johnny leaned back a little, his mouth bruised and swollen from the fucking work it just did. "When's the last time you cleaned out?" Johnny asked, hand grazing Patrick's ass over the briefs. Well... fuck. He hadn't done that since... well, since they were fucking around.


He must have been pouting or something, because Johnny chuckled and said, "Don't worry, there's always a way."


Johnny reached over, without having to look, and fished through Patrick's end table. The left one, where he kept his good lube. Fucker still remembered.


Johnny kicked back the duvet and usheredd Patrick onto his side, "Wha--"


"Shhh, I got you. Get these off." Johnny snapped the band of Patrick's briefs.


Patrick huffed, but was able to shimmy out of them, leaving them pooled by his feet in a jumbled ball. When he was back fully on his side, Johnny slid in behind him, bare cock hard and bumping against his ass and lower back.


"Leg up." Johnny instructed, hand pushing Patrick's top leg into a right angle. "I'm gonna get you nice and messy Peeks." Patrick moaned and turned his head, delighted when Johnny's lips were already there, filling Patrick with sensation while Johnny applied the lube between his thighs, over his balls, and even along his crack.


"Seems excessive." Patrick joked.


Johnny chuckled. He got his arms tightly around Patrick chest, kinda holding him real strong and said, "Keep those pretty thighs tight for me Peeks." He slotted his cock between Patrick's thighs, the blunt head dragging over his taint along the underside of his cock.


Patrick groaned, and tipped his had back over Johnny's shoulder. "Fuck."


"There you go, there you are." Johnny unlocked a hand from somewhere and secured it on Patrick's hip. He occasionally dipped down to squeeze both their cocks when they were lined up.

The glide was so good--probably just enough to get him there, but slowly, tortuously. The position and the build was so fucking Johnny that Patrick had to smile and pump his hips in a silent demand for more.


"Shhh" Johnny hushed, "You're working too hard for it. You don't trust me to make it good? To get you there?"


Patrick moaned, hand clutching the pillow he was on. "Yeah, Johnny, please."


“Shhh.” Johnny ran a hand down Patrick’s sweat-lined flank and moved to rest over his lower abs.


Patrick’s eyes were closed and the lights off—all he focused on was the feel of Johnny gliding between his thighs, dragging over the tight skin of his cock. Their combined heavy breathing and his own clipped moans felt amplified in the dark.


Pretty soon, all he could think about was how badly he wanted to come.


Patrick reached back to run a hand behind Jonny’s head, pulling him close so he could feel Jonny’s breath tickling his neck.


“Needed this so bad.” Patrick heard himself whimper—the truth uncontained in his lust.


“I know Peeks. I got you.” Jonny rumbled. And then, “You close babe?”


Patrick nodded vigorously, “Yeah, Tazer, right there.”


Jonny reached down and cupped the head of Patrick’s cock, applied pressure to the sensitive slit and glands. In the next few pumps, Jonny’s cock caressed his balls and that was it. Patrick shuddered through the best orgasm he had in over a year.


Patrick maintained enough presence of mind to keep his thighs tightened for Jonny to finish. He was surprised by how much he wanted that, wanted to hear Jonny’s deep groan—feel how his body tighten.


He came saying, “Fuck Peeks, fuck.”


Patrick shivered when he felt Jonny’s come splash between his thighs, along his taint, even dampening his sac.


Before his eyes blinked too heavily with sleep, Patrick gripped Jonny’s forearm. Jonny was bunching himself up to go to the on suite, no doubt. “Stay.” Patrick demanded. Then, feeling the stickiness between his thighs, clarified. “The night.”


“Course Kaner. I’m just getting a washcloth.”




Exhausted from the game, and the emotional rollacoaster of the day (one that he knew he would be on for the next few days), and then the sex—Patrick promptly passed out.





Patrick sighed, the guilt having quickly become too much for him to ignore. "Hey," Johnny looked up from the frying pan. "I'm sorry if I, you know, fucked things up with you and Lindsey."


When Patrick blinked awake that morning, the first few streams of light blinding him, two things came to him in quick succession: his granddad was dead and Jonny had cheated on Lindsey with Patrick the night before. And…Patrick had all but demanded it—selfishly begging Jonny for something he had no right to at all.


Johnny's eyebrows rose and then furrowed. He turned toward the stove and started pushing around the vegetables he was sautéing. "You didn't." He said softly.




Patrick thought maybe he was missing something. Johnny definitely seemed to care about Lindsey, like they traveled around the world together and had tons of ridiculously cute pictures on instagram. Lindsey was nice and Johnny typically didn't try to be an asshole. So. Reason would stand that by cheating on Lindsey, Patrick had a hand in messing things up with them... presumably.


"Stop overthinking it dude." Johnny's voice rang out. "We've never been sexually monogamous."


"Sexually monogamous?" Patrick whispered as opposed to…?


"Yeah, like we can have sex with other people but not date them." Johnny clarified, face still turned away.


"But," Patrick should have filtered, should really learn how to do it someday. "You don't have sex with other people. I mean like, you as in you Johnny--"


"Yeah." Johnny sighed, turned off the burner and looked at Patrick. "We've just always had that arrangement."


"Does he fuck other people?" Patrick's asked, voice hitching higher in its confused state.




"Dude. That's fucked up." Patrick commented. Because Johnny was looking back at him calm, and sad, and resigned? Like what the fuck? He agreed that they can have sex with other people when he didn't actually want to have sex with other people??


"Shut up Kaner." Johnny responded. But there was no bite to it, just this empty string of words.


"Johnny, I'm not... like, I'm being serious. Why don't you tell him you prefer monogamy, in all its forms." Patrick growled, oddly angry for Johnny. "And, don't fucking lie and say you don't!"


Johnny bristled, "You don't get to be judge and jury here when you don't know shit! Calice de Tabernak!"


"I don't know shit? I know you Johnny! We've literally fucking talked about this. Why are you trying to be sketchy with me, bro?" Patrick yelled back.


"Fucking..." Johnny huffed, hands set on his hips and face turned to the side. "Look," he said, eyes snapping back to bore into Patrick's, "What Lindsey and I have is... it's temporary, like, we both know we're not in it for the rest of our lives. So, if he wants to fuck around while he's on jobs or if I'm in the mood to pick up on a roadie then it’s all good. But I wouldn't, that wouldn't work for me if it were someone I was with, with. Crisse!"


Johnny turned away and started aggressively plating the sautéed vegetables and seared fish, leaving Patrick to digest what he just said. How were Lindsey and him not serious? Like they did all sorts of things together and took pictures and traveled together. But they didn't live together, Patrick realized. Like after 2 years and shit they still had separate apartments. But that didn't necessarily mean..


"Will you drop it, please?" Johnny hissed.


"I just didn't… I guess I just thought that you and Lindsey were like this perfect match, okay? Fucking forgive me if it takes me one god damn minute to process things here."


Johnny set Patrick's plate in front of him and leaned over his own on the opposite side of the island. "You think we're a perfect fit for each other?" Johnny asked, face still angry but amused too.


"Well, yeah." Patrick readjusted his snap-back and picked up his fork, "Like Lindsey is all fancy and good mannered and he, you know, speaks French, and dude is fine and has a job that pays well. And he's, I don't know, particular like you, likes things a certain way, likes things to come out nice so... it seemed, legit, is all."


Johnny stared at his plate, jaw chewing slowly. "You think that's what I'm looking for?"


"It's not?"


Johnny swallowed and took a drink from his water glass. "Not really." He laughed but his eyes were so fucking hollow.


"Oh." Patrick swallowed a broccoli, "What do you want then?"


"Someone.." Johnny licked his lips and looked up at Patrick, "Someone easy." He finished.


They stared at one another; Patrick's fork half piercing a piece of fish. Easy... Johnny had called him easy before. Always implied it. Patrick didn't think it was a good thing, exactly, or something that Johnny liked particularly. But Johnny said it like... like maybe he'd want to be serious with someone like Patrick. Maybe even...


"Like me?" Patrick asked, voice all hopeful and young.


"Yeah Patrick. Someone like you." And he didn't move. They both didn't, just kept looking at each other. Patrick could do so many things. Laugh and say something like, oh, you'll never find someone as awesome as me. But he didn't want to say something like that. He wanted... He wanted Johnny.


"Like me, me? Not just someone like handsome, and swaglicious and--"


"Yes Patrick you, Crisse, you idiot."


Patrick grinned widely. Johnny wanted... him. Like to date? or be with or whatever. But like him. It made Patrick's heart swell. Haha to those perfect little trophies like Lindsey, Johnny wanted someone easy, an ultra-bro, a lazy mouch of a roommate.


"Is that," Johnny's face got all scrunched as it cycled through emotions too fast, "Is that something..."




"Yeah?" Johnny looked... shocked, frankly.


"I mean, I've never done something serious before. You know that, obviously. You'd have to be patient and like not think I know what I'm doing. But I'd want to do that, with you. I've been all low-key jealous of Lindsey and shit, trolling his instagram. Since Amanda, I've been..." Patrick lowered his voice "thinking about you and basically using that video we made as jack off material.” Jonny’s smiled curved so high. Patrick wasn’t finished, he had to get it out. “And then when Amanda and I broke up she asked me if I'd ever been with someone I thought I could wake up next to until the end of time or whatever and I... well I thought of you. So, yeah, I want to date you? Is that what we'd call it? But..."


"But what?" Johnny asked, expression guarded.


"But, let's just wait. A little bit. Because I'm all fucked up about my granddad and my head's not right and I'm pretty sure that I'm all in but I don't want to fuck with you if in 2 months I'm not, so… can you, would you wait or..."


"Holy fuck, you're hopeless." Johnny teased, but it was all breathy and sweet.


Patrick smiled goofily. He'd be embarrassed or shy even if it wasn't Johnny. Johnny knew what he was getting and he still wanted it. Even admitted to wanting it. Hah! "Yeah. But you'll help me. You'll make sure I don't fuck it up, right?"


Apparently they weren't eating anymore. Johnny leaned over, forearm sliding their plates to the side. He wrapped one hand around Patrick's jaw and pulled him in. "Yeah Pat, I wont let you fuck it up. Don't think you really can, honestly."


And then Johnny was kissing him. All hungry and pent-up and meaningful.


"Sweet" Patrick breathed, body thrumming.


They finished eating, and rinsed the dishes, and loaded the dishwasher. They also curled up on the couch together and kissed when Patrick got up to use the bathroom and when Johnny returned from getting them water. Johnny made then talk about a plan of action like the serious dork he was. It was agreed that no sex would be happening while Patrick was processing recent events and getting back on his feet, so to speak. Johnny would be handling his shit with Lindsey and then they'd revisit the whole dating-for-real thing. They kissed goodbye at Patrick's door with his face turned up and his body riddled with butterflies. He felt like he was on the verge of something, like right before he was drafted. He felt guilty too though, for being so excited when he hadn't even buried his fucking grandad yet. And then sad, because Jonny would never meet his granddad when he was more than just Jonny’s friend.


"Two months." Johnny confirmed as he shrugged on his jacket


"Well... roughly." Patrick bartered "Take or take a few weeks."


"Fine. 6 weeks you deserve at least that much time to think about it." Johnny pushed, eyes so serious.


Patrick pouted. He sort of wanted Johnny to come back in and kiss him and take him to bed and ruin his sheets. But Johnny also said he wouldn't let Patrick fuck it up... so they should follow Johnny's lead on it. "Fine." He muttered sullenly. "6 weeks."






Jonny couldn't come to the funeral with him.


That was okay, actually, because Patrick kept near-crying—eyes welling and throat clicking with emotion. People said consolatory shit to him and he thought maybe he responded right... but it was all a blur.


Thank fuck for his sisters--who sort of amassed a puppy pile around him when they got home and holed up with him in the basement when everyone else was on the first floor eating food and making weird fucking small talk. He never appreciated his parents more for fielding them all. Some of them had wanted to talk to Patrick about the Blackhawks season…like no.


"So, what else is new, you know beside this terrible awful thing that just happened." Eicka asked, knees up to her chest.


Patrick sighed. He didn't remember ever feeling this tired. His bones were tired, his muscles felt like poured concrete. "Actually," he forced his tongue to say, "Jonny and I might be a thing."


Jackie scoffed, "That isn't something new Pat."


"What does that mean?" Patrick asked, affronted. It came out more mellow than he intended.


"You two have been circling each other since rookie year." Ericka confirmed.


Patrick's brow furrowed. "We were hooking up but we weren't a thing."


The girls literally sighed in unison. Jessica, the nicest of the evil band of sisters touched Patrick's arm, "You've been in love for forever, Pat. But I feel like you've just realized it. I think," She played with a piece of her hair and looked contemplative, "Maybe Jonny knew sometime after rookie year, but definitely WAY before you."


Well then. So many things were happening in his brain. First, Love? LOVE--that was a big word. It maybe scared him even though he kinda knew in this vaguely certain way that he would be ready to use it someday, probably sooner rather than later. And his sisters were such assholes, who doesn't give a literal brother a heads up about him being in love. What the actual fuck. So those thoughts were happening but, grief man, made it all seem loopy and not as severe.


"Well," He drawled in conclusion. "Then my point stands. Jonny and I are apparently finally acknowledging that we're a thing and since the question was what else is new, my answer is still acceptable."


Ericka twisted her mouth. "Fine." And then, delayed as fuck her eyes lit up and she said, "Spill the details. How did this acknowledgement finally happen?"


Jessica and Jackie leaned in like vultures and Patrick was thankful that they weren't talking about how much they fucking missed grandad anymore and Patrick wasn't thinking about how if Jonny were here, he’d feel so much better.




Jonny picked him up from the airport. Patrick didn't care about the 6 week shit, he held Jonny's hand over the gear shift the entire way back to his apartment. He solemnly avoided any conversation about how Jonny’s conversations might have gone with Lindsey because he was pretty sure once the funeral fog faded, he’d feel a little guilty about it all.


"I told the girls about you." He said out the window, still tired and sad but feeling more like himself now that he was back in Chicago with Jonny.


"What'd they say?" Jonny smiled at him softly. Patrick studied Jonny’s profile for a second, the harder cut of his jaw, the growing beard. He'd matured, Patrick realized suddenly. They were like, grown guys now. Their boyish looks had aged into something more handsome.


"They weren't surprised. They said I've been, uh, low-key down for years."


Jonny chuckled and took his hand away to switch lanes but brought it back to Patrick’s. "Nah, I've been monitoring. I think you only started thinking about it after Amanda."


Patrick gaped at the side of Jonny's face. He now had firm evidence that he should provide to Sharpy of how Jonny was actually telepathic. Like how did he know that?


But also, "Wait, you've been monitoring?"


"Didn't want to make my move too soon, scare you off."


A bright flare of anger slashed through Patrick’s receding haze and suddenly he was so fucking pissed at Jonny. After everything..."So, like always, you decided to keep information that is about me, from me?" Patrick thought they had addressed this issue back when Jonny was trying to be Patrick's Dom in the bedroom without Patrick's fucking permission!


"Hey," Jonny answered, "It was information about me that had to do with you but that you didn't have a fucking right to, ease up asshole."


"Uh, no, fuck that. Why didn't you tell me? Like, you just were fucking, lurking around, what the fuck is that?"


"I was living my life with you as my friend, not fucking lurking around you fucking shithead. I just knew that you weren't ready to hear about my fucking feelings so I sat on them." Jonny aggressively crossed to the outer lane, passing other vehicles.


"And how did you know I wasn't ready to hear about it?" Patrick seethed.


Jonny stayed quiet, jaw clenching.




"Fine." Jonny ground out. "Maybe I was too chicken-shit to put myself out there. But I think if you weren't being such a fuckface right now you’d admit that you hadn't been thinking of me like that."


Patrick rolled his eyes. "Fuck you Jonny. You think you know everything! Like, maybe I wasn't thinking of you like exactly in these terms but I don't think a little fucking honesty would have hurt the situation. I fucking thought, back in rookie year, that if I had to be stuck kissing one person for the rest of my fucking life that I would choose you. Rookie year! You fucking prick. So, yeah, fuck you, you fucking knew. Bullshit."


Jonny had pulled into Patrick's garage and Patrick aimed to fling the handle open really fucking aggressively but Jonny stopped him with his hand.


"You thought that rookie year?"


Patrick eyed him. The asshole had the nerve to look hopeful, even a little dopey.


"Yes." Patrick spit out. "See? You don't know everything." Patrick tugged his arm away and crossed it like a child.


"Peeks," Jonny breathed and leaned for him but got caught by his seatbelt. "Fuck this fucking--"


Patrick couldn't help it. It was too much, he started laughing. Jonny was cursing at his seatbelt like a teenager trying to round first base and Patrick couldn't be angry anymore. It bubbled up unexpected and spilled over until he was laughing and crying and Jonny was laughing too, head tipped back against the headrest.


"I'm sorry I didn't declare my feelings for you." Jonny said once their laughs died down. "If it makes you feel better, I didn't start having them until after The Cup win."


"Yeah?" Patrick wanted to know this part.


Jonny nodded. "You held that cup up and all I wanted to do was kiss you." Jonny gulped, "And then we hooked up and you said," he cleared his throat, "you said that you hadn't had anyone better and I thought me too but was too scared to say it."


Patrick sighed. "I wanted to suck your cock so fucking bad. I just wanted, I dunno, I wanted to be with you that night I guess and I just translated it into sex, like usual."


Jonny barked a laugh. "Yeah that's probably right."


"Come make out with me?" Patrick asked hopefully. They were both idiots, but no day like the present to start changing your game.


Jonny cut the engine. "Yeah, okay."


Naturally, it was Jonny's mouth and kissing so....that meant that Patrick couldn't help but drop to his knees in front of Jonny’s spread thighs. His cock, gorgeous as ever, had Patrick’s jaw aching within a few minutes. Jonny’s capable fingers, danced along the stretch of lips, running through the spit that accumulated there. Jonny’s eyes were so fucking dark—Patrick couldn’t look away. Arguably, it was the most intense blow-job Patrick had ever given.


And, well, maybe sucking cock was getting ahead of the 6 week schedule but it all sort of started that way, those years ago so Patrick couldn't help but feel anything other than glee and arousal when Jonny's gorgeous dick slid down his throat.


"Always so good Peeks" Jonny said, like he had before, so many times before. This time though, Patrick saw the meaning in it, the admiration and something deeper.


Jonny nudged Patrick toward the bedroom, encouraging him to shed his clothing. And when Patrick flopped back on the bed, he was still licking his lips, chasing the taste of Jonny in his mouth both new and so familiar. And then, whoa, hey, Jonny had learned some new things over the years. Like holy shit suction, tongue--did he always do it like that?


Patrick watched between his knees as Jonny hollowed his cheeks. Somethings were the same, like how Patrick's legs were draped over Jonny's shoulders or how Jonny was trying to win some kind of dick sucking competition. Patrick groaned when Jonny pressed his thumb firmly against Patrick's entrance. He didn't try and push inside or stretch the rim, just added firm pressure, making Patrick imagine what it would be like to be filled up while Jonny was doing this to him.


He came in Jonny's mouth, completely without warning. Not beauty. But all Jonny did was swallow, wipe his mouth, and run his hand up the center of Patrick's chest until it curved around his jaw. He kissed him slowly, letting Patrick come down easy.


"Sorry," Patrick rasped when Jonny laid beside him "haven't had a guy sucking my cock since..." Well, since Jonny, actually.


Jonny smiled and rolled onto his side, arm propped up to support his head. He was back lit and the sun cast a hazy glow around his body. With that and the bronze skin--Patrick almost wanted to hate how pretty he was.


"Did you ever think that the kissing is so good because it’s us?"


Patrick pressed his lips together, sadly unable to take the freebie, "Nah, you have skills man."


Jonny smirked, "I mean, yes. But, I've liked kissing you best out of everyone I've ever kissed. That probably means something, eh?"


Patrick smiled. There was something so natural about being with Jonny. It wasn’t like they were picking up where they left off rookie year because their relationship as friends had developed so much farther than that already. It felt new and exciting and yet at the same time comfortable and familiar.


It was hard to ignore, though, that Jonny (and Patrick for that matter) had been with someone else right up until 5 days ago.


“Is everything all good with Lindsey?” Patrick forced himself to ask. Needing to know. He liked Lindsey, had always respected him.


“Yeah. I told him that we were picking things back up again and that we were doing it more seriously. He said he understood.” Jonny scraped a hand over his face. “It’s not perfect or clean like with you and Amanda but he’s not like… trying to burn all my shit.”


Patrick played with his bottom lip—licking and biting at it. “But, uh, I thought you two had an understanding.”


“We did.” Jonny flipped on his side and looked at Patrick, “the last 6 months he’d been hinting at maybe changing that understanding. I think he wanted to take things to another level but I knew I had feelings for you, so I avoided those conversations.” Jonny smiled weakly, “But even with it being a hard conversation, he said that he was happy that uh, we were trying things. He, uh, said he could tell I cared a lot about you.”


“Did he know about us from before?”


Jonny nodded, “He guessed after the first few times he met you. And I told him we hooked up rookie year.”


“He guessed about us?” Patrick arched an eyebrow but his lips curled in a slow smile.


“He said there was something about the way we interacted that was more intimate than just teammates.” Jonny’s body made a phantom of a shrugging motion. “I’ve always been attracted to you.”


Patrick grinned widely. “Well. Obviously.”


Jonny’s wide hand pushed at Patrick’s face. “You’re a fucking shit.”


“Yup.” Patrick confirmed. And with a tone equally as fond as Jonny’s had been added, “And you’re an asshole.”


Jonny rolled his eyes. But his smiled never faded.





By some books, it could be said that the 6 weeks basically…didn’t happen.


To be fair, Jonny and Patrick were still road roommates and they were in each other’s spaces for essentially three weeks straight after Patrick returned from his grandad’s funeral.


Patrick obviously had to get his mouth all over Jonny’s.


There was also no way that Patrick was going to pass Jonny showering just 15 feet away from him without ducking in and sucking his beautiful cock. Likewise, Jonny would come up behind Patrick while he was washing his face and suck at his neck, run his thumbs over Patrick’s nipples. Say fucking shit like, “Love that I get to do this now.”


They slept in the same bed every night on the road. And, when they weren’t too bone-tired, swapped hand jobs and blow jobs.


One memorable night, high off another straight win, Jonny laid Patrick on his belly with his hips high in the air. He told him to keep his hands in the sheets and then slurped viciously at Patrick’s unsuspecting hole. He lapped and licked like Patrick was his prize after the hard-fought win.


In only minutes Patrick begged, “Tazer, I can’t hold out. I gotta. I gotta.”


“Jack yourself Peeks, wanna feel you come on my mouth.” Jonny replied, voice so deep, Patrick shivered at the sound of it alone. The cool air whipped at his hole and Patrick blinked fiercely to coordinate his limbs. He had to reach deep between his legs to catch some of the wetness that Jonny had generated to pull at his cock.


Jonny groaned behind him, “So fucking hot, Peeks.”

Patrick collapsed forward when he came. Jonny snatched his hips though, making Patrick keep his knees under him and his ass high. He pushed at Patrick’s lower back so that his hole was exposed to the hotel air.


“Right there. Gonna come all over this hole.” And Patrick whined and arched further. Jonny’s hot semen felt like a searing mark on his spit-chilled entrance. He could feel Jonny dripping down toward his balls.


Caught up in the feeling, Patrick almost missed the sound of Jonny snapping his i-phone.


“You fucking kidding?” Patrick growled.


“Nope.” Jonny crawled up the bed and showed Patrick the image on the phone. And…yeah. It was hot as hell. Jonny’s white spunk marking Patrick’s dark pink hole. “That’s all mine now.”


Patrick grinned—“You’re such a fucking cliché.”


Jonny shrugged, completely unbothered.




By some twist of fate, the Blackhawks had a “long” stretch at home. 2 days off and one home game. As he and Jonny shuffled off the plane, unspokenly going to Jonny’s house where he most certainly had food, Patrick nudged Jonny’s shoulder meaningfully.


Jonny caught Patrick’s eyes and wiped the corners of his mouth. “Tomorrow.”


Patrick nodded. It was high-time Patrick had Jonny inside him, filling him up. As they climbed into bed, groggily shuffling and trying to get comfortable, Patrick said, “Wanna feel you tomorrow. I’m probably as tight as the first time we fucked.”


Jonny groaned against the top of Patrick’s head. “Don’t fucking say that shit.”


“It’s true. I haven’t been with a guys since.”


Jonny stilled behind him, hand splayed flat on Patrick’s belly. “You wanna work up to it? I don’t mind bottoming.”


Patrick scoffed, “Um. No. I mean after yes, but I want to bottom first.”


“Slut.” Jonny whispered into Patrick’s ear. And despite the deep ache of his muscles, the drooping of his eyelids, Patrick’s dick twitched.




Patrick didn’t waste any time. Just about as soon as he woke up—late given that they finally had an off day—Patrick rolled out of bed to the bathroom. He had some…things to take care of if he was planning on bottoming for Jonny’s big fucking dick. Jonny snuffled a little when Patrick dipped out of bed but stayed sleeping for most of the time that Patrick was in the bathroom.


“Peeks?” Jonny groggily called, as Patrick was brushing his teeth. His hole still drying from…what Patrick was doing before.


“Whaa?” Patrick spit before daring to say anything more. Jonny hated it when he got toothpaste on the sink and didn’t wash it off.


Jonny pushed the door to the bathroom open, standing disheveled and sleepy and so fucking adorable. “Why you up so early?”


Patrick rinsed his mouth as Jonny reached for his own toothbrush. “It’s after 10, dude. Why are you up so late? We have plans.”


Jonny fumbled the toothpaste. “Already?”


“It’s tomorrow, dude. I’ve been up for a half hour already.” Patrick arched his eyebrows suggestively. Jonny was very aware of the work Patrick had to put in this morning.


“Crisse. Shouldn’t we talk first?” Jonny lathered his toothbrush and ran the water.


Patrick rolled his eyes. “After. Fucking first. I’ll be in the bedroom.”


Jonny smiled as he turned on his electric toothbrush. Patrick shuffled to the bedroom and stripped off his boxers. He snooped around Jonny’s bedroom until he found his sex stash. Under the bed, Jonny seriously? He was just laying some of the plugs out when Jonny re-entered the bedroom. He crawled onto the bed, looking down at Patrick who was cross-legged on the floor.


That lazer look never did lighten. Patrick could feel Jonny clocking his every movement.


“I was just thinking a little prep would probably be good.” Patrick smiled nervously. He rubbed the back of his neck, oddly shy. Jonny would typically call the shots, sexually, would always know what Patrick wanted. But Patrick wanted to be clear this time. “I, uh, wanna go rough.”


Jonny stayed silent. He just leaned over the bed and ran his fingers over a red plug with a black handle. “I never used that one. I always thought I’d maybe use it on you.”


“Blackhawk colors, Jonny? Jesus Christ you’re ridiculous.”


Jonny shrugged, tipping his head slightly toward his shoulder. “How do you want to start?”


Patrick chewed on his bottom lip. “I don’t care about any of the other stuff, I just wanted…”


“Okay.” When Patrick glanced up Jonny was smiling. “Come up here.”


For all Patrick wanted a deep, rough fuck, Jonny dragged out the prep. He kissed Patrick for what felt like hours and after several frustrated attempts from Patrick to get things moving, migrating to leaving love bites all over Patrick’s chest, nipples, stomach and thighs.


“Jonny, come on.” Patrick growled when all he did with his lubed fingers was rub his thumbs along Patrick’s rim.


“You said you didn’t care about the other stuff.” Jonny shot back, the tip of his thumb dipping inside.


“I hate you.” Patrick whined and then moaned loudly when Jonny slide his pointer finger inside of him in one swift motion.


“Let me enjoy this Peeks.” Jonny said softly and added both fingers to Patrick’s tight channel. “Love how slutty you get for it.”


Patrick arched his head restless. Jonny was determinedly avoiding Patrick’s prostate. He fingered and stretched Patrick with just two fingers for so long that by the time he slipped a third one in, Patrick almost didn’t notice.


“Mmmmm good.”


Jonny chuckled. “Ready for a little stretch?”


Patrick nodded, “Yeah, come on.”


Jonny reached for the plug beside them. He circled it around Patrick rim, giving him a good sense of how wide the flared head was. It wasn’t going to be as big as Jonny but it would be a stretch from Jonny’s few fingers moments before.


Patrick was plenty wet, so the plug went in smooth with that delicious burn that Patrick liked. It also flared out over Patrick’s prostate, which Jonny ruthlessly abused by rocking it in and out and in and out for a solid few minutes. It left Patrick gasping and rocking his hips and saying things like “Fuck, Jonny want you in me.”


“Come on ride it out, Peeks. Lemme watch you rub your prostate with it.”


Jonny always knew how to completely wreck him. Patrick shamelessly pumped his hips, working them so that he could feel the weight of the plug against his sensitive insides.


Jonny encouraged him on, made him shudder and whimper with the things he said. Things like, you gonna work my cock like you work this plug? And could watch you needy like this forever.


After way too much time, Jonny shifted, nudging Patrick's hip so that his body turned over.  Patrick got his knees under him, thinking that Jonny was going to take him from behind.  Patrick blinked, disoriented when Jonny laid beside him on his back face split in an arrogant grin.




"You're climbing on top, Peeks.  We can still do it rough like this."


Patrick pouted.  It was so much more work than he had anticipated. "Jonny." He whined, even as his body hooked a leg over to straddle him.


"Come on Peeks, wanna watch you fuck yourself on my dick.  Watch how thirsty you are for it."  Jonny's hands skimmed up and down Patrick's body, squeezing his asscheeks and pulling him so that his wet entrance dragged along Jonny's dick.


Jonny released his hands and reached for the lube on the bed.  He squirted some into his hand and, after urging Patrick high on his knees, reached down his body to wet his cock.  He kept a firm hold of the base and said, "I'll even hold it up for you."  Patrick stuck out his tongue when Jonny smiled like an asshole.


Patrick huffed, attempting to seem put out.  But he wanted Jonny inside him way more than he wanted to argue.  So, he shifted back, lining up his hole with the head of Jonny's dick--still larger than the plug Patrick took just moments before.  Jonny must have glided his fist up, because suddenly Patrick could feel his hand there apply more pressure so that Patrick could sink down and feel the moment Jonny popped through his tight ring of muscles.


"F-fuck."  Patrick stuttered.  Somehow lowering his body weight from this angle made the fullness right there in his consciousness. "Shit, fuck."  Patrick cursed, his knees already trembling as he tried to sink down at a measured pace. Patrick hung his head and panted, focusing on each inch as it split him open.  Jonny's hands were back on his hips, holding not forcing, and suddenly Patrick was flush, fully seated against Jonny's hips.  "S' so different like this."  Patrick trembled.


"Fucking gorgeous, Peeks."


Patrick moaned.  He rolled his hips experimentally, feeling how Jonny's large cock rubbed against all the right places.  If he leaned back, Jonny's cock pressed deeply against Patrick's prostate--sending pulsing pleasure through his body.


When he blinked his eyes open, mouth still panting as he got used to the sensation of having Jonny inside him again, Jonny stared back at him.  His hand skated up Patrick's hips, higher until he could stroke his thumbs over Patrick's nipples.


Somehow, looking at Jonny, watching him want Patrick, watching him look so hungry for it, it made Patrick's need to fuck ratchit higher. "I want, I want--"


"Com'on lift up on your knees."  Jonny instructed.  Patrick felt him plant his feet firmly on the bed, ready to snatch his hips upward with the powerful force of his legs.


It took them a couple of strokes to find a rhythm that maximized the amount of force they were able to get while still being sustainable.  Patrick kept shifting his hands around, not sure if he liked gripping Jonny's lower abs, Jonny's knees, or one hand on both. "Jonny." Patrick whimpered brokenly,"Jonny." His breathing was staccato, pulling in breath and releasing it harshly.


"So fucking hot, Peeks.  You're fucking abs right now."


Patrick looked down, his stomach was crunching with each pump of their hips.  With the sheen of sweat that had accumulated, it looked like he was in the middle of a hard work-out. Patrick's dick slapped against his belly as he forced himself down on Jonny again and again and again.


"Missed this."  Patrick gasped out.  It felt so right, so fucking good.  This was Jonny underneath him, inside him, holding him.


Abruptly, Jonny disturbed their rhythm by surging up and kissing Patrick, wrapping his arms around Patrick's back and devouring his mouth.  Patrick's dick rubbed tantalizingly against Jonny's lower abs.


"Missed this too."  Jonny rumbled when they broke apart. "You're so fucking--"


"What?"  Patrick whispered, his breath ragged from panting earlier.


Jonny gently held Patrick to him as he leaned them both.  He managed to have his dick only slip slightly when Patrick's back hit the bed behind him, head just barely missing the end of the bed.


"So fucking perfect for me Peeks."  Jonny kissed him, arms brackets around Patrick, hips slowly rolling in and out of him.


They didn't finish it rough.  They finished it deep and slow and disgustingly sweet.  Kissing and arching into each other.  For the first time ever, Patrick didn't care that Jonny was drawing it out because he wanted it to last too.  Wanted to feel this for as long as he could.


When Patrick couldn't hold out any longer, when he started sobbing desperately into Jonny's mouth, Jonny pulled back slightly and angled his hips up.


"Jonny" Patrick whimpered, his prostate bolting with pleasure as Jonny's cockhead hit it square on.


"Finish yourself off, Peeks. Lemme see you."  Jonny instructed.  Patrick shuddered because he could tell Jonny was close to.


He gripped his cock, weeping profusely, and started tugging.  Patrick had been riding the edge for so long that his orgasm crashed over him, making him shake and press his eyes closed against the force of it.  He could feel Jonny fucking through Patrick's spasms, taking his own.  And just as Patrick opened his eyes, almost able to take a full breath, Jonny groaned low and came inside him.


"Yeah."  Patrick smiled dopily. "get me soaked."


Jonny chuckled into Patrick's neck, pulling away smiling. "You're ridiculous."  But he kissed Patrick too, slow and wet, his cock still hard because it took forever to soften. 


Patrick felt sex high and a little fuzzy so maybe that was why he said, "You're still the only person that’s ever fucked me bare." 


Jonny's dick twitched, Patrick could feel it. "Fucking shit Peeks."  Jonny cursed.


"It's true." Patrick whispered.


It was startling when Jonny locked eyes with him, staring at him with that lazer focus that earned him his nickname. "Good."  He said finally, like the most cliché boyfriend ever.  But Patrick liked it, more so than he would have predicted. Because, Patrick had been Jonny’s first everything and that thought sent this shiver of possession and ownership through him. He liked seeing those feelings reflected in Jonny’s eyes. Liked knowing he understood that too.




“We should talk about stuff.” Jonny grunted, foot hooked around Patrick’s at his dining room table.


Patrick was swiping through his phone, trying to keep up with the somewhat regular news from the Kane family. Jonny was doing…scheduling things with his PR events.


“Stuff?” Patrick challenged.


Jonny’s response glare was perfectly flat and unamused. Patrick cackled.


“Yes. Important things. Like what are doing? What are we calling this? What are out parameters or whatever?”


Patrick frowned. “I thought we were dating?” Jonny made it sound like they had to determine some kind of arrangement. Patrick may act like a whore in bed but he wasn’t actually one.


“Yeah, but what does that mean? For us, I mean.” Patrick really hated how gorgeously wide Jonny’s eyes got when he was trying to be earnest. It was distracting as fuck. Jonny sighed, “For starters, are we going to be monogamous?”


“Um. Yes.” Patrick answered firmly. “That isn’t something that’s negotiable for you.” And actually, “You said that you wouldn’t want to be an open relationship with someone your with with and I thought that’s what we’re fucking doing.”


Jonny’s eyes narrowed, “I’m not trying to be a dick, Kaner. I’m trying to make things clear. You dated a girl for over a year and you two were basically a long-term hook up. You almost had a panic attack when you made it to your 6 month anniversary and thought she wanted a fucking label or something. Excuse me for trying to clarify what you fucking want.”


“I wasn’t fucking with Amanda and you know it, asshole.” Patrick clenched his phone tighter in his fist, causing the screen to click off when he hit the side button.


“How do I know that? You were basically dating without calling it that. She met your family and traveled with you and slept with you…like I’m just trying to put things out there. You wanted that style of relationship with her, you seemed really happy with it, so I’m not trying not to, to assume anything.”


Patrick’s eyes slanted. He felt angry but he wasn’t sure why. Jonny made sense, Amanda and his relationship was definitely unique to say the least but she wasn’t Jonny and Patrick thought they already established this.


“Amanda and I didn’t have a future. That’s why we kept it casual.” Patrick settled on.


“And we do?”


Patrick blinked. “Yes, Jonny. That’s… the point of this.”


“Okay.” Jonny breathed out and looked down at the table, “Okay good.” Then, “So we’re completely monogamous, long-term dating. What about the team?”


Patrick pressed his lips together. He had been thinking about this. Back when him and Jonny were just boning, it made absolutely no fucking sense to tell anyone besides his sisters about it. But now, with the team, how him and Jonny were kinda cornerstones and all settled in with some of the guys… Every time Sharpy waggled his eyebrows and asked after a new girl or Hossa joked about Patrick being able to pick-up…it’d feel like lying.


“I’d like to tell some of the guys. But, uh, I kinda don’t know what they’d say. We’d have to consider that and the whole media image thing.” Patrick scratched his beard. He was sick of it already. “We should definitely call Brisson and maybe your mom?”


Jonny watched him, held his silence for longer beats than normal conversation etiquette allowed.


“Dude? You gonna say something?” Patrick poked. He looked like Jonny might actually be freaking out or having a silent seizure or some shit.


Jonny cleared his throat. “I just.” He shook his head, “I just didn’t realize you were already that serious about it.”


“You aren’t?” Patrick crossed his arms, feeling as awkwardly vulnerable as when Rebecca Ogcamo told him she wasn’t interested in being his girlfriend because she was taller than him and more interested in soccer than hockey.


Jonny laughed—a clipped out jerk of a sound that wasn’t fucking funny at all. “Patrick. Are you fucking kidding me? I’d ask you to move in with me if I thought you wouldn’t freak out.” He clenched his jaw and blushed, probably realizing what he said.


It was…a surprise for sure. Patrick was absolutely no expert on relationships but wanting to move in with someone seemed like a big leap to make after approximately 7 weeks of dating. But. Jonny and Patrick had lived together before and with hockey, had basically lived with each other for an accumulation of 5 months out of the year for the past three years. It would be different in the sense that they were an item…but really that was kind of semantics. Bottom line, they would be sharing space, splitting bills, fucking and fighting, and waking up to go to the same job. Full circle really.


Patrick shrugged. “We’ve already lived together.”


Patrick was absolutely positive, based on the way Jonny’s jaw hung open, that the dude had a mini-stroke.


And, that night, Jonny blew him so fucking good, came on his face after and said dopey shit like, “We’re gonna be so fucking good together Peeks” and “One day everyone in Chicago is gonna know you’re mine.”




The problem with telling the team, was that they’d have to also address the whole Jonny is gay and we’re not talking about it Blackhawks locker room rule. Like, people joked on Tazer and bro-loved on him and mouthed off to him—but no one (not since rookie year) asked him about his love life.


The guys knew, but didn’t know. It was delicate and in keeping with locker room etiquette and supremely unhelpful overall now that Patrick and Jonny had to essentially come out and then disclose their relationship status.


They decided on a rip the band-aid approach at Sharpy’s house with Hossa, Duncs, Seabs, Shawzy and Bolligs. They figured if it all went to shit, they could just quickly turn tail for Jonny’s place.


Patrick told Abby in advance that there would be some “Truth bombs” and to “Maybe have the kids down before we come over?” Like the beautiful woman that she was, she only asked, “Would 8:30 be okay? They’ll be down for sure then.”


Since Jonny made everything either ultra-serious this is life or death or very fucking awkward avert gaze at all costs, Patrick insisted on taking the lead with the boys even though Jonny tried to argue that he was the captain and should, like, suffer these types of conversation as part of his duty.


They argued for exactly 30 minutes because they were baking chicken and the timer went off when Jonny slumped against the counter and agreed to let Patrick do the talking.


Patrick decided to start with, “You guys know Jonny’s gay.”


Jonny raised his eyes to the ceiling and the boys acted like they were posing for a fucking painting—totally motionless. Patrick could have heard the girls tossing in their sleep upstairs if he had listened hard enough.


He forged on, “And I’m bi. I think I’ve been obvious about that. So, we wanted you all to know that we’re dating now. So. Don’t be assholes about it. Keep your mouths shut to the media. And don’t ask us about our new girlfriends—er—partners in front of the other boys in the locker room.” He rested his hands low on his hips. “Questions?”

Aside from Abby who was smiling widely and who promptly and appropriately said, “Congratulations!”


Everyone else dissolved into low and urgent muttering—


“Sharpy said they boned rookie year and would get back together by the end of the season.”


“But I said that they were already together since Kaner missed Detriot for the funeral.”


“Don’t forget Bolligs logged over under by April.”


Patrick turned to Jonny and grinned winningly. He did a superb job, thank you. And, Jonny only looked mildly constipated. Wins all around.


Seven pairs of questioning eyes turned to them.


Patrick sighed. “We hooked up rookie year but got together on…erm—“


“March 19th” Jonny supplied.


“Right, then. And it’s very serious and legit now.” Patrick nodded. “So. That’s it. We’ve, uh, got dinner plans.” Patrick wasn’t above fleeing. Not at all.


“Hey. Kaner, Tazer” Sharpy halted Patrick’s retreat attempts. “Congratulations. We got your back in the room. Don’t worry about it.”


“Thanks Sharp.” Jonny answered. He managed to sound cool and collected and confident. All the Cs, because he had the C—hah! Patrick chuckled to himself.


“Jonny, hate to break to you, but you sure about throwing your chips in on Kaner here?” Hossa joked, making a rude not-all-there motion with his hand.


“Shut the fuck up Hossa.” Jonny barked without skipping a beat, “Try getting your goal point average to look like Kaner’s. Maybe someone would date you then too.”


Everyone oooed and hissed playfully. Awwww Jonny’s gonna get all don’t talk about my man like that, and ooooo Jonny’s into that Kaner weirdness.


Patrick’s cheeks ached from smiling when they finally made it to their car.





There wasn't much time, with the condensed season. The regular season ended shortly after they told the boys they were together. And then Patrick and Jonny were full press until June. Head down, getting home half-alive, dreaming of hockey plays.


Patrick could feel it in his bones. Could taste the win when they entered the finals in June.


They never left Jonny's apartment when they weren't at the UC or in Boston. They had barely enough energy to do more than cuddle half the time.


But it was an unspoken understanding. And it felt nice not to feel like he had to make an effort when Jonny was right in the same boat with him.


Patrick wanted to end the series in Chicago. But, the fucking Bruins were good and just as thirsty for a win. Equal rivals for sure. As much as he had a spot in his heart for Seguin— he didn’t so much as grab dinner with the dude during any of their away games in Boston.


Seguin didn’t text him either.


Patrick was glad for it. Because he gave absolutely zero shits when they won at TD garden—A crazy game, that they tied up and WON in the last two minutes. He could feel how stunned every Bruins fan felt, in Boston on their ice and Patrick found it glorious.


They did it. The start of their dynasty.


Patrick took so many photos his eyes crossed and his jaw ached. The sweat inside his pads, and along his forehead grew cold and uncomfortable, the adrenaline wearing off.


Him and Jonny were distracted by their families for a while, but there was one moment, after a photo (hell probably during there were so many snapping around them) when Jonny said low in his ear, “gonna fuck you so fucking good later.”


Patrick stuck out his tongue, eyes smiling.



After the blurry post-game partying and the many post-cup interviews and several wonderful and partially drunken sexapades with Jonny, Patrick finally had the chance to get back to his place.


He had been basically living with Jonny since his granddad died, so parts of his place seemed so foreign to him. Him and Jonny really needed to decide on the living situation. It kinda made no sense for Patrick to keep his place at the The Towers.


Patrick packed some stuff, put some other things away, made a mental note about furniture he wanted to keep and what he could sell or donate. As he was tossing things out of his fridge, pulling the trash over to him for easier execution, a brown paper bag slipped from behind the trash.


Patrick recognized it instantly as a delivery bag. As he opened it, seeing the broken fortune cookie and soy sauce packets, Patrick remembered that Jonny had ordered him food after that terrible game when he got the news. Patrick or Jonny must have folded the back and rested it near the trash for recycling.


With a stray thought, Patrick reached into the bag to pull out the fortunes. He shook them in his hands and dropped them on the counter. The only thing keeping them together was their plastic wrapping. Patrick did his best to make out their shape and pick the one pointing to him. He held the fortune to his head, all the usual questions will we win the cup? Will I get MVP? were obsolete.


Patrick bit at his lips, “Is Jonny my forever dude?” He settled on. Because his sisters always asked romantic things and their fortuntes were funny to listen to afterward. Patrick’s hands sorta shook when he opened the wrapping though, crumbs getting everywhere.


You already know the answer to the question lingering in your mind.


Patrick flipped it over and barked aloud when he saw: Lucky Numbers: 03 19 88 10 13 15


Patrick stuck it behind a magnet from Switzerland for safe keeping.




Planning for the summer was an interesting affair. First, because Patrick really wanted to be with Jonny the entire time but second because he wasn’t used to considering someone else’s plans while making his own. Jonny smiled softly through Patricks ranting attempts at equity.


“Er. I mean, you don’t have to see my parents yet if you don’t want to? We could just go to Hawaii like we said, hang there and then do our separate things. And then back in Chicago for training and pre-season. I think my mom would like to see you, it’s not like I don’t think we’re there yet in the relationship, I just—“


“Peeks. We’ll spend a couple weeks with your family and then a couple with mine and then Hawaii and back for training. It’s fine.”


“Okay, good. Good.”


Patrick managed to sort of completely block out the fact that he was meeting the parents in a super real sense until Jackie so arrogantly pointed it out a week into their time on the lake.


“Are you serious, Pat?” She scoffed when his face twisted in dismay.


“What? This is a big deal!”


“And him meeting us wasn’t?” Jackie arched a very judgemental eyebrow.


“That’s different. He’s met you. We’re a chill family, very easy going. His parents are, are, fucking serious fucking people. His mom runs his PR! She’s seen all my shit on deadspin.” Patrick’s eyes scanned back and forth as he jumped from the thought of Andre staring him down with contempt, to constipated silent dinners, to Jonny’s father shaking his head in disappointment in the kitchen where he thinks Patrick can’t see him.


“You are such an asshole. Meeting us was a big deal!” Jackie hissed, offended and completely unhelpful.


“Jackie!” Patrick nearly shouted.


“Stop fighting right now.” Donna barked as she carried the tray of watermelon out to the patio table. Jonny trailed behind her, smiling widely at something Erica was telling him. His bathing suit was still on, slung low on his hips with a loose tank covering what Patrick knew was a bronze stomach and chest. The thought of them last night, Patrick’s pale skin contrasting bright against Jonny’s deeper coloring, flashed across his mind. He squirmed in his seat, distracted.


Jackie elbowed him. “It’s going to be fine. You’re a pro-athlete, stop looking so scared shitless and grow a pair.”


Patrick glared and Jessica, who had caught just the tail-end of the argument, nodded encouragingly like Jackie was making perfect sense.




They fought the entire way to Winnipeg.


"Would you stop being a fucking prick already. I came out to them years ago, they're not gonna make you feel weird." Jonny spat defensively.


Patrick crossed his arms. Really, Jonny was being insensitive, like why did Patrick have to spell shit out all the time? "Um, but Lyndsy was all modely and bilingual with manners and, like, your parents have probably seen my shit all over deadspin. Stop being a jerk and just like, tell me I'm awesome, Jesus."


Jonny's silence frightened Patrick. So much so, he wouldn't allow himself to look over at him. Nope, he looked straight ahead at the fucking blank movie screen.


"Babe." Jonny sighed. Patrick bit the inside of his cheek and kept his eyes dead ahead. They were flying on a Tuesday and there was no one behind them in first class. "My parents know you. They like you. They are very familiar with the hockey player territory. My mom runs my fucking PR. Like, you don't.... Peeks look at me."


Patrick glanced over, arms still crossed.


Jonny smiled softly. "They're really happy for me, okay. It's gonna be totally fine. They..." Jonny twisted his mouth.


"What?" Patrick demanded.


"They liked Lyndsey, okay. They thought he was nice but they also could tell I wasn't in love with him and my mom has always said that I needed someone to even me out, or whatever." Patrick snorted. ‘Or whatever’ was an understatement. "Anyway," Jonny growled. "when I told her about us she... I dunno, she was happy. She said she was glad that it was you, okay? And look, I actually don't give a fuck what they say because we're together now. So that's it."


Patrick smiled. He breathed in and out and tipped his head against the headrest. Jonny was going to make everyone in his life like Patrick through sheer force of will.


"My family likes you too." Patrick offered.


"Yeah, obviously." Jonny replied. Annoyingly confident. "Jackie says we better have mixed gender wedding parties because otherwise it wouldn't be fair if David's in it but your sisters aren’t."


Patrick swallowed. His sisters had this way of like...jumping way down the road with a lot of things. "And that....didn't freak you out?"


"No." Jonny shrugged and then reclined his seat, apparently done reassuring Patrick. "She's right anyway. I think that would be a good idea."


"No, Jesus, no, Jonny, like marriage... er, I mean marrying me. That wasn't like weird, was it?"


"No." Jonny looked over at him, stare sharp and serious, "Does it freak you out?"


Patrick blinked. It's not that the thought hadn't crossed his mind, it had flickered on the edges sometimes. Like when he thought about Jonny's concussion and how if that happened again Andre was still his Healthcare Proxy. But he hadn't assumed it was a sure thing, exactly. He was hopeful, of course. But anything could happen... life had thrown better people than them curve balls.


"This is why I keep things from you." Jonny rolled his eyes and started clicking around on the screen. Patrick could see how tight his jaw was set, though, how his hand had curled around the armrest.


"Fuck you. I'm not freaking out. I just didn't realize you were like a sure thing. Give me one fucking second, asshole." Patrick punched his arm for good measure.


Jonny scoffed, "Between the two of us, I'm definitely the sure thing."


"What? Are you fucking serious? I'm the easy one, you're always saying that." Patrick narrowed his eyes.


"Oh my fucking god Patrick shut up and watch a movie and get some sleep. I don't want to be fighting when they pick us up from the airport." Jonny shoved his neck pillow around him and manipulated it until he was satisfied.


"Fine. Fuckface. But for the record, I want to pick out my own ring. So don't, like take creative control over that part because you're a monopolizing control freak sometimes, you know that?"


Jonny's eyes were closed but he smiled and said "Fine." really angsty like.


"Fine." Patrick spit back and reclined his chair back to match Jonny's.


When Patrick felt like he was just drifting off, headphones blocking everything out except for the pop rock hits of Walk the Moon, he felt Jonny squeeze his hand. He blinked his eyes open in time to see Jonny kissing the back of his hand and smiling at him.


Patrick smiled back. Their hands were separated and appropriately distanced when the stewardess came to ask them about drinks. Patrick realized as Jonny ordered him a water and an orange juice that there might be a time when people knew about them, when people would know that Jonny was not only taken for good, but taken by Patrick. The thought flopped his stomach and made his heart race.


But he liked the idea.



2013-2014 Season


Their sixth month anniversary fell in the middle of pre-season.


Jonny wanted to celebrate with a scene in which he rode Patrick's dick while Patrick had  vibrating plug in his ass.


Patrick agreed to do it, obviously.


He thought better of it though when he was sweating in the sticky September heat in Chicago, watching Jon's bronze body rolling his hips above him.  And that fucking vibrating plug shifting from a low thrum against his prostate to an almost unbearable pulsing--controlled of course by Jonny's remote.  Jonny smirked and swiveled his hips smugly every time Patrick cried out and whimpered broken pleas.


"Jonny, I fucking can't, I fucking.."


"Shhh Peeks, you're doing so good.  Need a break?"


Patrick growled at Jonny's controling grin, "No, you fucking--no, let me finish."


"I'll let up, Peeks."  Patrick whined high and needy when Jonny stopped moving above him, just settled his tight wet het around Patrick.  Before Patrick could even voice a complaint, however, Jonny reached behind him, errily finding Patrick's hole with swift precision.  Patrick thought for one grateful second that Jonny was pulling out the plug...but the bastard was just moving it, pulling it out and fucking it right back in. Patrick's hips burst up with the sensation, curses rolling off his tongue. Jonny perched on his dick, but still fucking him with the toy. Patrick’s eyes rolled back, the fuzzy haze of being forced to submit fogging his brain.


"Shhh, Peeks, ride it out.  I can tell you love it, I can practically feel your dick throbbing."  Jonny whispered, his strong arms jerking the plug (still vibrating) in and out, in and out, in and out.


"Jonny, Jonny, I can't--"


"Okay, babe."  Jonny shoved the plug back in, set the fucking thing on a high setting, and then went to town on Patrick's dick.  His breath labored with the force of him coming down in it.  He yanked his cock as he did and the image alone could have been Patrick's undoing but all of it was just so hot.


"If you come," Jonny warned, breath harsher by his panting, "I'm not turning the plug down until I'm finished."


Patrick groaned, head rolling back and he spilled himself inside of Jonny.  Didn't stand a fucking chance.  Fucker probably was saving that line on purpose.


If there was one thing Patrick knew about Jonathan Toews--he was a man of his word.  Jonny didn't even touch the remote once Patrick's body sagged beneath him.  He just kept getting it, riding Patrick's softening dick, making him feel the pulsing of the plug against his over-sensitive insides.  He came a deep grunt and fell forward to shove his tongue in Patrick's mouth through his aftershocks.


But...the plug still pulsed aggressively inside and Patrick couldn't.


"Jonny."  He gasped desperately. Penalty itched at the back of his throat, "It's too much."


Jonny lifted his head. A brief flash of confusion and then full realization before he fumbled for the remote. "Shit babe, sorry.  I got it, I got it."


The relief was so sweet, Patrick actually sobbed.  All his nerve endings were firing off especially as Jonny slipped off his soft dick.  And Patrick could swear he felt the phantom of the plug vibrating his insides. "You okay, Peeks, too much?"


"M'good, M'good."  Patrick reassured, body shivering still from the stimulation, mind high and doped out.


"I'll take it out, just give me a second."


Patrick shook his head. "No, leave it, it'll feel too...empty I think."


"You sure?"


Patrick nodded.  He needed to come down by degrees. "Yeah, come kiss me."


Jonny chuckled. "I will, lemme get a washcloth."


Patrick pouted.  Jonny laughed warmly as he popped into their on-suite and back, wiping them both down.




After, when Patrick was subdued but alert. He shuffled around the closet for Jonny’s actual gift.


“You said nothing serious.” Jonny accused. Sounding legitimately angry about not getting his share of the gift giving.


“I lied.” Patrick shrugged. “Plus, this is for both of us.”


He placed the box in Jonny’s lap. He got it professionally wrapped and was feeling supremely proud and excited about it.


“’s heavy” Jonny commented. “And big.” His hands deftly tore at the edge of the paper, doing it all controlled and logical so there weren’t shreds everywhere. Patrick’s leg jiggled.


Jonny slid the canvas out.


They both stared at it. Patrick taken aback by the beauty of it even though he knew what to expect. Amanda had gotten him in touch with a dope mixed media collage artist. With the help of the girls and his mom, he collected different things and handed them over to her. Ticket stubs, photos, articles, replications of their jerseys, everything. But most importantly. The fortunes.


The artist had layered the pieces together so beautifully. She painted over some of the article clippings with a replication of one of Patrick’s favorite photos of them, after a cup win. She had collaged over the numbers on their jerseys with real embroidered ones—probably from a kid’s jersey or something.


The fortunes were highlighted, standing out in their own way. Jonny’s finger traced over, You will be successful in love.


“This one?” Jonny asked, voice low and raspy. His finger touched the backside of Patrick’s fortune that had their lucky numbers displayed.


Lucky Numbers: 03 19 88 10 13 15


“It was with the food you bought me that night, that night my granddad died.” Patrick cleared his throat. “I found it way later.”


“What’d you ask?”


Patrick leaned his shoulder against Jonny’s. They both stared at the large canvas on Jonny’s lap. “If you were my forever dude.”


“What’d it say?”


Patrick licked his lips. “It said yes.” He nudged his nose into Jonny’s throat, “and these were on the back. The date we started dating, according to you.” 03 19 Jonny scoffed. They had a difference of opinion on that one. “Our numbers, 19 and 88 and the years we won the cup.”


“15?” Jonny finally turned to him, eyes round and beautiful.


“The next one.” Patrick said, not an ounce of teasing in his tone.


Jonny nodded back just as seriously.


“It’s gorgeous Peeks.”


Patrick swallowed, “Now we just gotta get a place for it.”


Jonny smiled. “The realtor said she has some places for us to see on Wednesday.”


Patrick leaned in, mouth always eager and hungry for Jonny. “Good.” He whispered against Jonny’s lips.



Chapter Text

June 18, 2015


Patrick pressed his legs together just to feel the resistance of the spreader bar.  His ass rolled in the air as he shuddered through his arousal, his hole clenching around the black and red plug in his ass.




"Fucking slut." Jonny grunted behind him.  He told Patrick to be fucking patient, but it felt like he'd been arranging something back there forever and Patrick couldn’t help his heightening horniness when they haven't had a single chance to really play since the cup win. Not with their families hogging their attention and definitely not with the parade tomorrow....


"Sometime this fucking century, dude."


Jonny slapped him pretty across Patrick's ass.  He lurched forward on his forearms with the force, eyelashes fluttering as the zing tingled up his spine, his hole once again trying to suck the plug further inside his ass.


Finally, finally, Jonny pressed his thighs against the back of Patrick's and draped over his back, "I'm not touching your pretty pink dick so you better come on my cock or I'm not helping you come at all."


Patrick whined, body heating. 


He would be pissed but, he'd much rather be fucked than have his dick tended to--if that was the game Jonny wanted to play tonight.  Patrick hadn't particularly cared about the specifics.  They had agreed before the season that they would both pick something in a scene to wait to use until they won the Stanley Cup or never be able to use it ever in life.  High stakes for a good cause.  Patrick had chosen a spreader bar--having fantasized about being left wide open for Jonny to plow for however long Jonny felt like leaving him for.  Jonny, never to be outdone, wanted to film the whole thing, which effectively took filming off the table for the rest of their fucking lives if they didn't win the cup. Patrick had pushed back, you know, just in case. Jonny had glared back at him, daring him to defy the fortunes and the hockey gods.  Patrick shut his mouth.


Obviously that wasn't a concern anymore.


Jonny yanked the plug out, jolting Patrick and making him yip.  Jonny said it would be like this--warned him in case it wasn't what Patrick was feeling tonight.


Gonna use you so hard Pat.  I just want, I want to go rough, leave my mark, make you hurt a little. 


How could Patrick have said no?


True to his word, consistent as the sun rising in the east, Jonny shoved his dick inside--plunging deep and powerful (thanks to the prep of the plug) and making Patrick scream.  It did hurt, felt raw and rough and so much.


Three Stanly Cups didn't come without pain, Patrick figured the celebration sex should have an element of that as well.


Jonny fucked Patrick like an animal when he wanted it like this.  He pounded him so that their skin slapped almost as loud as Patrick's punched out moans.  Jonny grunted when he was in this mood and ran his mouth a little mean and so fucking good.


"Gonna ruin this fucking hole, Kaner.  Gonna fucking make it so that you can't shit, can't sit, can't fucking move without feeling it.  Want you to remember how I tear this up, make you swollen and sore.  You only get your ass high in the air like a bitch for me."


Patrick whined and rubbed his face in the bedding.  So much.  Jonny knew how to get him so high off his dick.


Patrick felt his body shaking with anticipation.  His hole already ached a little and his thighs pulsed with the effort of receiving Johnny's relentless thrusting.  Jonny made sure to graze his prostate, keeping his cock wet at the tip, leaking, but not quite at the edge.


Patrick whimpered.  He wanted to come, knew that Jonny would make sure of it, but he didn't think he could wait--his hands twitched where they were tangled in the sheets.


"You're not fucking touching your dick, slut.  Good sluts come on a cock."


Patrick cried out and then nervously licked at his lips.  He didn't think he could come like this, not with the way that Jonny was seeking his own pleasure fucking him too hard and deep and selfish.


"Jonny."  Patrick whined.


Jonny just gripped Patrick's hips, bruising them up like he liked and drilled in.  Patrick could tell he was close and his heart starting fluttering, his belly swooping nervously even as Jonny cursed, groaned like someone punched him in the gut, and filled Patrick's ass up.


Patrick's whole body thrummed—aching with need and low-grade pain.  His dick pulsed, wanting release.  Patrick's eyes were probably wet at the edges, “desperate tears”, Jonny called them.


"Shhhh."  Jonny cooed, voice deep and sated. "It's okay baby, you need help don't you?  You couldn't quite come, could you?"


Patrick shook his head. "Please, Jonny, don't make me wait."


"No, baby.  I wouldn't.  You earned a nice orgasm like all those other guys on the team.  I know what a slut like you needs."  Jonny's hands caressed over Patrick's back, his ass, the back of his thighs.  He felt something nudge at his hole, the familiar feeling of silicone at his rim. "I know exactly what you need."


Jonny clicked something and suddenly Patrick was filled again so shocking fast that he shouted and tried to instinctively close his legs to move away.  But with the spreader bar—fuck, he couldn’t. He shivered as his desire bloomed. "Fucking, Jonny, wha..."


"Shhh.  Just take it baby.  You need another round, that's all.  I'll make sure you get what you need."


That fucker.  Jonny had talked so longingly about getting Patrick a fucking machine, had showed Patrick all the mini ones and medium sized ones.  Patrick kept putting it off, referencing the summer when they would have more time.  The unmistakable whirring and long strokes of the dildo filled Patrick's ears.  Patrick could barely breath through his arousal.


"It has so many features."  Jonny added conversationally and Patrick wanted to get his voice together to growl at Jonny because he knew exactly what that fucker was going to--


"Fuck,fffuck, you fucker."  Patrick collapsed fully into the bed, ass still up getting abused by the fucking machine that clearly had a vibrating dildo attachment that was absolutely annihilating his prostate.  He gasped through the pleasure-pain, through the haze of his raw hole combined with his electrified prostate.


Jonny appeared at his side, mouthing his jaw, thumbing his tears. "Tell me how it feels."


"Hurts."  Patrick choked. "It's everywhere, I can't, I can't--" but it was lost.  He felt his dick throb with how hard he shot off, jerking against the air. Jonny waited until the absolute last second before turning the thing off--he left the dildo settled inside. Thankfully, it wasn't sending off deep vibrations anymore that made Patrick's eyes cross.


Patrick was breathing harder than an overtime game. 


Jonny rubbed at his sides, even palmed his dick to hear Patrick yelp and bare his teeth. "Feeling good baby?"


"Fucking hate'you."  Patrick slurred, body loose, the only thing propping it up was the fucking machine.


"Catch your breath, baby.  It's not over yet."


"Jonny, I can't--"


"I don't think it's fair that you get all the fun.  My ass might feel left out.  I want some of that action too."


Patrick could not possibly fathom a world where his dick was ready to get hard for Jonny any time this year let alone in the next hour.


"I'm thinking I'll ride you, get the clamps on your nipples and use them like reigns.  That would be hot. You'll probably pass out."  Patrick's body responded even though his mind screamed at the impossibility of it. "But, I'll give you a minute.  I have to prep first."


Patrick sucked in gulps of air as he reacquainted himself with his body.  His thighs killed, fighting to press together and curl up.  Not to mention his hole, that still stretched over the dildo.  It throbbed, a low thrumming of pain that kept Patrick's mind from settling.


Patrick’s body could handle a lot, but the position he was in, what with being fucked two straight times, was killing his lower back.


“Jon” he called, voice rasped to hell.


Jonny came quickly, wide dark eyes full of concern, “Too much?”


Patrick nodded, “My back—“


“I got you.” Jonny whispered and Patrick heard him releasing the Velcro of the spreader bar, rubbing at where there were surely lines in his skin. “Deep breath.”  Jonny instructed. Patrick winced as he slowly slid out the dildo.  Things weren’t as wet at the start and there was a drag that Patrick would have grumbled about except he was blissfully free and his body just slumped forward in relief. “All good?”




“Good.” Jonny smile wickedly “Now, start acting like the good little slut that you are and get that dick hard.”


“Mrump.” Patrick replied petulantly.


Jonny chuckled and spread out beside him. Patrick watched, how could he not? When Jonny grabbed the lube, testing it in his fingers and then reaching down between his muscles thighs. 


“Oh fuck, you asshole.” Patrick cursed. Because be was definitely going to have to prop himself on one elbow to get the best view.


“Yeah.” Jonny’s eyelashes fluttered when he slid a finger inside himself. Patrick clamped his own home- still gaping from being fucked stupid.  He tried to imagine the tightness from only an hour before— the press and push.  Jonny worked himself slowly, so fucking patient.


He watched Patrick watching him. 


“You like what you see.” Jonny stated. “You like watching me, even when I’m not working you over.”


“I’ll always like watching you.” Patrick answered softly.


Jonny smiled broadly and leaned up to slot their mouths together.  Jonny didn't always kiss him when they were sceneing like this--he said it broke the illusion.  Like the idiot that he was, Jonny couldn't kiss mean, only perfect and loving.  Patrick sighed into it.  When they broke apart, Patrick kissed along Jonny's jaw, lapping at the sweat at his neck, tasting the little noises he made through the vibrations against his throat. 


Yeah, he was going to get hard again.


"You're always calling me the porn star, but look at you."  Patrick marveled.  Jonny's bulk burned off with the season and he was cut and lean down to the V of his hips. Patrick licked his lips.


"You are a porn star because of that right there." Jonny chuckled.  Patrick's eyebrows drew together and Jonny answered, "Because you're always so hungry for it.  Like you haven't had it in months event though you just got fucked two times straight."


Patrick slid his eyes sideways on Jonny-- "You're a sex maniac too! You love to get off together watching our own films!"


Jonny's laughed hitched in his throat--probably because he was rubbing his prostate. "I didn't say I wasn't kinky.  But you're insatiable. You need it so bad, all the time.  I can tell sometimes, when we've gone too long without a good fuck that you get antsy, you start trying to choke yourself on my dick."


Patrick closed his eyes. That was...true, he guessed.  He just hadn't put that together exactly. There were definitely times--whether because of the schedule or injury or both that Patrick went stretches without getting fucked.  He definitely noticed the tension building, he didn't realize it was so obvious.


"Yeah, fine. You win. I'm the sex addict."


Jonny leaned to the side and nudged his nose along Patrick's face. "Only for my dick."  And he withdrew his lube slick fingers from inside himself to play with the head of Patrick's semi-hard dick.  It twitched to life as Jonny stroked over his glands, the sensitive underside.  Patrick jerked when Jonny dragged his nail over the slit, pressed into it.  "Got a pretty cock, Peeks."


Patrick smiled.  His cock was nice.  Perfectly decent size not like Jonny's hellion monster dick.  Patrick's was cut nice, he knew it.  It jutted straight up, no curving business and had a nice mushroom head when it was hard.  That was the part Jonny liked the best, said it looked so hot on camera.  Patrick shivered.  Fuck he was going to get to watch this whole thing back. Jonny played dirty and wet his two fingers with lube, scooping his hands down to play with Patrick's abused entrance.  He pet the rim, prodding it gently and sliding in and out shallowly.  Patrick groaned, the ache was just right, like pressing into a bruise.


"Slut.  Hardened right up when I play with your fucked out hole."  Jonny shook his head. "Maybe I should fuck it again."


Patrick's dick twitched.


Jonny chuckled, "We'll see, maybe I'll finish inside you and plug you up."  He sat up, muscles seemingly fully functioning, unlike Patrick's and shoved Patrick onto his back.  Patrick's hands found themselves on Jonny's upper thighs as he straddled Patrick, propped high on his knees.  Cruelly, he gripped Patrick's dick and popped the sensitive head right against his rim, baring down roughly so that Patrick's whole body tensed up and he shouted.


"Fuck, Jonny."


"Kept it tight for you."  Jonny smiled wickedly and slowly sunk his body down, dragging his clinging, wet, hot insides down, down, down until his hips sat flushed with Patrick's.


Like a magician performing his final trick, Jonny fucking materialized nipple clamps from somewhere behind and down him on the bed.


"Thought I forgot?"  Jonny smiled at Patrick's dropped jaw.  He hadn't moved yet, just grinded his hips in teasing circles.


He leaned forward, their height difference enabled him to keep the majority of Patrick's dick inside as he opened the metal, clothespin style clamps.  They were Jonny's favorite because the teeth had ridges that left impressions on Patrick's nipples for at least a day. 


Patrick's grip tightened around Jonny's thighs, "Just fucking do it you sadist asshole."


Jonny grinned widely. He attached them with clinical precision, tugging gently at the long chain between them and watched as Patrick arched and gasped in the pain-pleasure mix that got him really fucked out.


"That was the shot right there.  I'd fucking make so much money selling video of your tits getting abused."


Patrick whimpered, his eyes leaking with tears. Johnny kept his hand flat on Patrick's chest, the cold chain just underneath.  He started lifting himself, small rolls that was basically just allowing him to rub his prostate with Patrick's cock. His nipples were two bright spots of pinching pain that balanced out the way Jonny's beautiful ass worked his dick.


Patrick sunk deeper into his high, floating in the sensation and overwhelmed by the throbbing of his hole as it clenched around emptiness, the tightness around his dick, the constant pain of his nipples--it circled him higher and higher and higher.


He lost time.


Jarringly, it felt like a slap when Jonny tugged the clamps again. Patrick cried out and whimpered—his attention snapping right to Jonny.  Jonny was riding him hard now, sweating and releasing little grunts. "Yeah, there you are."  His hand stayed flexed around the chain.  Jonny's tongue darted out, pressed against side of his mouth and his eyes danced as he slowly pulled the chain, kept pulling it, and pulling it and Patrick's eyes widened with realization as his sensitive nipples stretched and he had to arch his chest to keep them from feeling like they were going to rip off.


"Moan pretty for the camera baby."


Patrick did moan, shuddering as he came--the sensation flattening him.  Jonny was kind enough to let the chain go as he collapsed backward.


By all accounts, Patrick felt mostly passed out--or in that drowsy state where attending to his surrounding fully was completely out of the question.  He whined as cold air hit his softening dick but his displeasure was short lived because...


"Jon'y wha--"


"Shhh baby."  Jonny's cock slid gently inside him, filling him up for a third time. He fucked in deep and strong into Patrick's weak body. "Fucking love fucking you like this. You're too messed up to stop me and you love it." Patrick's dick dribbled the last of his come, getting pushed out by Jonny's big dick. 


"Yeah, babe fill’me up again. Want it." Patrick slurred, hips rolling slightly off instinct alone.


Jonny thrust hard a few times and then groaned as he lurched forward, covering Patrick with his bulk. "So good, perfect fucking hole."


Jonny crushed the nipple clamps and his still hard dick pulsed inside.  Patrick just had to take it because his body would be non-functioning for at least an hour.  They were both breathing heavy, harsh sounds against the quiet.


It took a minute for them to come down.  Jonny's dick was a nice timer in that regard, taking longer than average to soften. Jonny rolled off to the side and, without warning, which was best, released Patrick's nipples from the harsh pinch of the clamps.


Patrick hissed.


"I know, I know."  Jonny sucked them into his mouth, gently lapping his tongue over each as the blood flowed back in.  He sucked each one deeply to hear Patrick whine high but soothed them with his tongue and lips. "Nice red, puffy little tits to match your swollen red hole."  Jonny rubbed each nipple with his thumb and all Patrick could do was smile dumbly at him.


"Hurts."  Patrick said eloquently. He referred to everything, not just the nipples that Jonny loved to torment.


Jonny cuddled him for a minute and then left him with the promise of coming back. "Just give me a second."  He said when he returned and started moving Patrick's legs so that they were bent and wide, leaving them there.  He told him to look and Patrick did, completely unsurprised to see that Jonny was taking pictures.  He slid Patrick's plug in, the red and black one and did some more arranging. Patrick clenched around the silicone, comforted that it was smaller than Jonny's cock and the dildo but big enough that his hole didn't ached being left open. Jonny asked Patrick to left his chin, snapped more photos.  He got in close, pointing the camera up the curve of Patrick's chest. "You're gonna love these."  He said as he urged and basically dragged Patrick to their bathroom.


The tub was still filling up but it didn't matter, Jonny helped Patrick in and then climbed in behind him.  Patrick's neck lolled backward and he watched the tap run through hooded eyes.  He was absently glad that Jonny got the thing special order.  Two hockey dudes in a tub would otherwise be a squeeze.  With the Jacuzzi sized tub, Jonny had room to touch all over his body, sloshing the water around.  Jonny loved this too, loved that Patrick couldn't bat his hands away, couldn't close his thighs against Jonny's fingers stroking around the plug, palms rubbing over his chest and nipples.


Jonny said once, shrugging, fucked out sluts are arguably hotter than regular sluts.


Getting Patrick fucked out was always Jonny's goal. Patrick sighed.  He wasn't complaining.


"You good?"  Jonny asked against his ear.




Three cup wins, a gorgeous boyfriend, a good career, amazing sex, summers off, awesome family...Patrick was beyond good.




Later, Patrick stirred in bed, coming into full consciousness.  Jonny's arm was around him and he was flopped mostly onto Jonny's slightly twisted stomach.  Jonny's laptop was off to the side and he was looking at it.


"Thirsty." Patrick pouted. 


Jonny turned to look at him, smiling. "Back?"


Patrick nodded.  Jonny moved his laptop and reached out to the nightstand, producing Patrick's water bottle. Patrick gulped greedily at it, eyes closed. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and didn't have to ask as Jonny grabbed the water bottle back.


"What'are you doing?"  Patrick shivered.  He wanted to be under the covers and started clawing at them until Jonny sat up, holding the laptop in one hand to flip the blankets down with the other.  Patrick cobbled inside, sighing happily as he settled against the pillow.  Jonny slipped in as well and Patrick pressed close against his side.


"Editing the film."


"Already?"  Patrick rolled his eyes.


Jonny reached back out to the nightstand and tossed Patrick his phone. "You're welcome."  Patrick put in Jonny's code 1988, fucking sap.  He tapped on the photos icon and whoa.. holy fuck there was like 30.  Patrick started thumbing through them greedily from most recent to earliest. Jonny captured him, mouth parted and body loose --his hole on full display with come leaking out.  A few with the plug in.  He scanned back and found that Jonny had taken shots of him on the machine, wrapped up in the lust haze of being fucked a second time straight.  Before that, he had captured some after Jonny had finished with him but before the machine. Jonny even snuck some right before he fucked Patrick, his pale ass contrasting with the black of the spreader bar.


"Nice."  Patrick whistled, already going through each of them again, zooming in on his face, nipples, the sticky white leaking out of his ass.


Jonny smiled as he shut his laptop down. "Ready for bed?"


Patrick nodded. He passed Jonny's phone back and blinked his eyes as Jonny clicked off the light on the nightstand. "What are we even going to do the next time we win?"


"We'll think of something."  Jonny murmured as settled into the bed, arms tightening around Patrick.


"We should start pacing ourselves. I mean, we have like more cups to potentially win, anniversaries, our wedding night!"  Patrick nodded to himself, he was onto something, "We have to space things out."


Jonny stilled beside him, "Well," He drawled slowly, all careful like when he wanted to say something but thought Patrick would bite his head off for it. "What kind of timeline are we talking?"


Patrick scrunched his eyebrows, "Dude, the rest of our lives!  That's a fucking long time.  Like, what, 60, 65 years? That's so fucking long."


Jonny stayed quiet, clearly not grasping the gravity of this situation. He cleared his throat. "One date at a time, Patrick.  We have to pick a wedding date first."


Patrick hummed his agreement. "True." And then, "When are you going to propose? Not like date, or anything, but like ballpark because then it's what? A year to plan the wedding?  Maybe more? Obviously has to be in the summer."


Jonny reached behind them and their bed flooded with light. "I'm not having this conversation in the dark."  Jonny grumped and peered down as Patrick squinted up. "When do you want to get married?"  His eyes focused tight, the scariest fucking shark eyes and Patrick had this feeling like maybe Jonny had thought of this and was actually taking this conversation very seriously.  He was a kink mastermind after all.


"I haven’t really thought about it."  Patrick shrugged, "Right after hockey?"


Jonny's mouth twisted, "I don't like having something to look forward to after hockey...that's, that's bad energy, we should want to be in it for as long as possible."


Patrick nodded, he liked the sense of that.  Having a wedding after they retired would feel like a celebration of sorts. Plus, he wanted to be married when he skated on the ice for the last time, like he was taking something with him off the ice and into the rest of his life. "Yeah, okay so.  Well, let's work backward.  Next summer for a wedding is out because your brother is getting married and it's my parent's 30th.  So the summer after that puts us at 2017?"


Jonny mulled it over "Think we'll make it to 2019?"


"What the fuck, think we'll make it? Yeah we fucking will. If you don’t get another fucking concussion!"


Jonny rolled his eyes—it was an old argument. "Then, August 8, 2019. That's our wedding date."


Patrick blinked, stunned. "You've...already thought of this."


Jonny nodded once.


Patrick swallowed down.  Okay, he wasn't going to get choked up about that.  That was like the fucking sappiest thing Jonny had every done.  Moving right along, "So that gives you like, three years to propose, without a ring because I'm picking my own ring." Patrick reminded dutifully. "And because you are very insistent on getting to propose first even though I think that coin toss was rigged. I can be romantic as fuck you know."


Jonny laughed but sort of scoffed in the middle. "Shut up. Crisse."


Patrick smiled into Jonny's mouth. Their lips moving so easily with each other.


"Summer 2019."  Jonny confirmed seriously, like Patrick was going to forget and miss the entire year or something. 8.8.19, sounded beautiful AF--and probably like the most inconvenient day of the fucking week.  Jonny would. But also...the date would be right whether by the weird international way of writing dates or the American way.  Smart. Jonny definitely already thought of that.


"Yeah, exactly."  Patrick licked his lips, smiling cockily. "You ready to get rid of that stupid fucking last name?"


Jonny's jaw clenched "Asshole."  He mumbled as he switched off the light.  And then, breathy and hot and right against Patrick's ear, "I'll take your last name if you take mine."


Patrick shivered--imagined just for an impossible moment that he was skating around with Jonny's last name on his back with 88 right below.  Fuck, he wanted to get that shit made even if it wasn't NHL merch.  Patrick sorta really wanted it to be NHL merch. He'd broach that conversation with Jonny later.  Like, what was coming out after a career of three cup wins (at least)?  They could handle it. Plus, they were under contact through 2022.  Patrick was going to prepare his argument which would mainly consist of how their framed jerseys would look so freaking cute on their wall all like... Kane 88, Kane 88, Kane 88 and then BAM Toews 88 and Jonny's would be all Toews 19, Toews 19, Toews 19 and Kane 19.  That'd be perfect.  Fucking hyphenated names on a jersey were way to fucking much.  And then up in there would be a wedding photo with 8.8.19 in big font and also that piece of artwork that he got Jonny. Yup. yup. It was happening.


"Go to sleep." Jonny commanded, snuffling.


Patrick smiled and kissed Jonny's arm. Plus, Lake Toews would basically be named after Patrick if Jonny changed his name. Ha! Patrick vibrated happily.