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Deryk never really thought riding with Kris to a practice would be a big deal, especially since the first few rides were nice. It showed they were kind of serious, and it saved Deryk an early morning trip to his apartment to change and drive alone to Southpointe. And after a particularly nice win at home, and a bit of lovin’ last night, Kris was in a great mood.
He actually hums a little tune while getting his gear, which makes Deryk smile and he can’t resist wrapping his arms around his boyfriend’s waist while he poured coffee, nuzzling into the groove between Kris’s neck and shoulder, kissing the vibrating coils of his throat, making it stutter.
“Fuck,” Kris murmured, leaning back into Deryk’s strong body, twisting his head to nuzzle into Deryk’s temple, practically purring with delight. His accent sounded heavier than usual and he rocked his hips back, and let his eyes flicker closed. Deryk grinned at the instant response he had on Kris, his teeth grazed across a sensitive spot, making the other man groan and sink back, fingers gripping the edge of the counter. However, Kris must’ve noticed the glowing green numbers on the stove and yelped, pushing himself out of Deryk’s arms, much to a soft protest at the sudden lack of heat.
Kris just smiled sadly, leaning up to kiss Deryk’s cheek in consolation, which made him glare. Piss poor comfort if you asked him, but Kris was flitting away, so Deryk continued to get ready.
It took a few minutes to head out of Kris’s house and out to his black SUV. They eased to relaxed, casual chatter within the first few minutes and once they entered a stretch of road, Kris carefully reached over, one hand still on the wheel and tangled his fingers in Deryk’s, lifting them to armrest between them, and left Deryk grinning. Things like this, so mundane and human, made warmth flutter in Deryk. Being a hockey player, many of them were dehumanized, focusing only on the game and crush of bones under them.
Kris had not seemed to lose the liking of just light, intimate touches, although they had their share of rough, complete and utter drunk fucking. But that’s beside the point. As they stopped at one of the many lights scattered about before Southpointe, Kris reached out to turn on the radio.
“Pop music?” Deryk questioned when he flipped it to 96.1 KISS, raising his eyebrow at his smiling boyfriend. Kris grinned, running a hand through his dark hair, winking at Deryk.
“Of course, perfect before practice,” He stated simply, squeezing Deryk’s hand and lifting them to kiss his knuckles through a smile. Deryk rolled his eyes, using his free hand to reach out and change it. He was met by a sharp stinging in his hand.
“Ow!” He complained, realizing Kris had swatted his hand away.
“My car, my music,” Kris said, leaning back. So, Deryk gave him a half-glare, although it lacked venom and held a hint of fondness. Deryk, in turn, leaned back and grumbled to himself, to listen to the utter shit coming from the speakers.
“Word on the street that you got something me-me. Magical, colorful, Mr. Mystery. I’m intrigued for a peak.” Deryk’s head snapped around to look at Kris wide-eyed. The brunette French-Canadian only gave him a sly smile, hitting the gas and beginning to very softly sing the words.
“Come on baby, let me see, what you hiding underneath,” Kris murmured provocatively, eyes flickering down to Deryk’s jean-covered crotch, tongue flicking out to languidly suck at his lower lip, eyes dark with lust.
“Oh my god,” Deryk felt blood rush down to his cock, instantly becoming hot under Kris’s stare.
“Are you brave enough to let me see your peacock? Don’t be a chicken, stop acting like a beotch.” Each word was laced by the distinctively French accent, making every word simmer and boil low in Deryk’s stomach, and he couldn’t help but whimper. Fuck.
Too soon they pulled into the parking lot of Southpointe, and Kris took a spot near the back, and unbuckled his seat belt. Deryk was barely scrambling for his own when Kris was leaning over their linked hands and catching Deryk’s lips in a fierce, fiery kiss. His other hand came down to palm his hard bulge in Deryk’s pants, fingers closing around and kneading.
Within a few seconds, Deryk was reduced to a whimper of need. “Don’t be a shy kind of guy, I know it’s beautiful,” Kris whispered, voice breathy and panting against Deryk’s mouth. Deryk’s free hand reached up to tangle in Kris’s perfect hair, dragging him down for another rough kiss.
But too soon was the weight of Kris’s palm was gone and Deryk found his hips roll forward, pointlessly humping the air, hoping for more friction. Pleasure boiled low in his stomach and he found himself panting and whimpering in an embarrassingly high and needy way.
Kris pulled away, and Deryk was forced to release him. “After practice,” he promised, licking his lips, causing a pang to throb in Deryk’s throbbing cock.
“You’re evil,” he whispered, slumping back as even Kris’s warm hand slid from his. Kris just laughed softly and hopped out of the car to grab his stuff from the back.
Deryk had two options. Jack him off here and be okay for the rest of practice. Or be on edge the entire practice and had mind blowing sex at home.
Deryk hopped out of the car to follow Kris.
After changing into gear and doing morning stretches, Deryk and Kris were divided for drills, before the defense kind of got to goof around. It didn’t happen so often, but it was the end of practice and well, why not? Deryk was glad, and had been hard through the entire time. Each time he shifted from one skate to another, his jock rubbed against his erection. Kris grinned at him every time he glared at the other brunette.
Kris had been devious the entire practice, and every time he got close to Deryk, he began to hum Peacock under his breath and gave Deryk a sly smile. That alone was enough for Deryk tense up and feel even closer to the edge. Eventually, Max must’ve heard Kris humming the tune for the erotic song, every time he passed Deryk; his grin grew until it literally filled his entire face with smugness.
And, when just when Deryk thought he could ignore his over-simulated dick, he felt something bounce off his shoulder. Turning, he saw a puck land at his feet and a mischievous looking Kris gazing at him with dark, lustful eyes. Kris began to skate around him and Deryk swiped him with his stick.
“Oh he’s going to get it,” Deryk thought, and Kris skated away towards the boards, flicking another puck towards Deryk, making him slide it quickly away. He found himself moving backwards as Kris agilely moved through the lines of players to the corner, flicking another stray puck at Engel.
From then, they circled closer, and shoved chest to shoulder, Kris grinning up at him. Engel grabbed Kris’s stick, dragging him closer and he absently knocked at Kris’s skates with his own stick. Kris swiped at Deryk’s head with a gloved hand, shoving him down and they laughed, dragging each other away and towards each other.
A few chuckles emanated from behind them and Deryk looked up to see an amused Max smiling with Sid and Geno. Engel grinned, stick trying to knock Kris’s feet from under him. “I want my heart-throbbing, ground shaking, show stopping amazing!” Kris voice turned singsong and they ended up with arms crossed over one another, Deryk reaching out to gently knock at Kris’s chin, jerking him backwards.
Together, they moved towards the wall, wrenching each other this way and that. It wasn’t exactly gentle, but not enough to hurt either of them. Deryk had Kris’s arm extended at his chest and soon enough, they ended up backed up to the boards, Deryk gripping the collar of Kris’s jersey, yanking it up over his face.
But, Kris got enough momentum and surged up, knocking them both to the ground with an oof! Kris’s weight was settled on his middle, pressing down and creating friction on his hard dick. Kris looked down at him, eyes a little wild and Deryk fought to elevate the pressure, bringing him closer to the edge.
“Kris,” he panted, unable to keep from smiling up at the sweaty, gorgeous face of his boyfriend’s face.
“Oh my god, no exaggeration,” with each word, he punctuated it, but sinking down and rocking down onto his waist.
“No,” Deryk whispered and lurched up, but Kris landed on top of him, grinning like a mad man and Deryk landed face down, body flush against the cold ice. But with another movement, they flipped over so Deryk was on top and Kris lay against the ice, legs wrapping around Engel’s waist.
The edge of his skate brushed against his crotch, making him shiver and try to wrench away, but Kris held on. Then Deryk was aware of pucks flying towards him, pressing against his side and the familiar scratch of skates on the ice as Brent began to reach out and prod them with his stick. “I just shed a tear, I am so unprepared,” Kris whispered, mouth close to Deryk’s ear.
Deryk whined softly and Kris chuckled, arms going slack in the arm hold around Deryk’s neck. He slowly flipped himself up, sliding onto his knees, watching Kris splayed out in front of him with a huge grin on his face. Deryk slid one skate up, and Kris twitched, hands reaching down to protect his crotch.
“Asshole,” Deryk muttered, and skated off, leaving Kris to get up, but he didn’t get far before Kris caught up to him and laughed.
“You got the finest architecture.” Kris said simply, grinning madly and Deryk flushed, skating away from Kris.
The End.