Chapter Ten
Olle woke up early to the sounds of pots and pans being slung around the kitchen. He knew Alexei and Callum were responsible, and he could tell they were trying to keep it down, but they were hosting Thanksgiving dinner for their friends and most of the team tonight, so there was a ton of cooking to be done.
Olle tried to go back to sleep, pulling Jamie in tight against his chest and enjoying his warmth, smiling as he remembered the times one of them had woken up in the night and immediately crawled back into the arms of the other. Jamie had gotten up a few hours ago to go to the bathroom. When he’d come back, he’d buried his face in Olle’s chest and promptly begun snoring again.
Olle liked it. A lot. So much so, he was considering asking Jamie if he wanted to look for an apartment together. There was no rush, of course, since they were able to stay where they were for the rest of the season, and Olle was fairly confident both sets of doting billet parents would be cool with one or the other of them spending the night. But the privacy, the shared space, would be nice.
Less like dating and more like having a partner.
The question was if Jamie was ready for that. Again, there was no hurry, Olle reminded himself. It hadn’t been two months since they’d come to Moncton, and this season wasn’t even halfway over, so they had lots of time before they should worry about next season and where to live.
Olle knew what he felt, what he wanted, but he wouldn’t rush Jamie. He did want to tell Jamie how he felt, but he wasn’t sure if Jamie was ready for that, either.
Olle sighed. His brain was firing too fast for him to get back to sleep, and the noise from the rest of the house was going to steadily increase. It was only a matter of time before his conscience got the best of him and he would go help.
In the meantime, he wanted to start the day off right.
He wasn’t surprised when Jamie slept through Olle pulling his arm out from under his head and replacing it with a pillow. And he could see how, after Jamie had played his heart out for the last series of games, he might not wake up when Olle slithered under the sheets. But Olle was starting to worry when he had most of Jamie’s hardening cock in his mouth and still nothing.
Then a hand clenched tight into his hair.
“Jesus Christ,” Jamie gasped a moment before he sat up and the covers were thrown off Olle’s head.
Olle didn’t release Jamie’s cock from his lips, so it wasn’t like he could respond. He did smile, as best he could, which made Jamie groan again, louder.
All sound stopped in the kitchen for the span of one heartbeat, then resumed, louder than before.
Jamie’s eyes widened with alarm. Olle sucked harder, his cheeks hollowing as he dragged his lips up Jamie’s fully hard shaft.
Jamie’s mouth dropped open, his lips forming an ‘O’ in an excellent approximation of Olle’s. Olle was a little concerned about Jamie making a loud noise, but so was Jamie, apparently, because he flopped back down onto the bed and buried his face beneath a pillow he held in place with his entire arm.
Olle released Jamie’s cock with an obscene pop, chuckling as he licked down the shaft and buried his nose in the coarse hair at the base. He scratched the stubble on his chin along Jamie’s inner thighs and Jamie spread them, his knees coming up until his feet left the bed.
A shudder of desire worked its way down Olle’s spine, blood surging into his cock.
He ducked his head to suck and lick Jamie’s sac, relishing the whimpers leaking out from beneath the pillow as he tried different things. He sucked one ball into his mouth, curling his tongue around it, and immediately knew he’d found a winner. Jamie’s legs twitched, one heel planting on the ball of Olle’s shoulder as Jamie spread his huge, gorgeous thighs open further in invitation.
Olle licked and sucked, kissed and nibbled everything he could reach while Jamie made increasingly desperate noises into the pillow. His neglected cock leaked onto his belly, the head an angry red, the shaft riddled with veins. Olle almost felt sorry, but he was enjoying his explorations too much to stop. Not until he had tasted every inch of Jamie—or Jamie asked him to stop.
When Olle slid his tongue along the seam of skin behind Jamie’s balls, rubbing and teasing, Jamie’s foot dug into Olle’s shoulder and his ass lifted off the mattress.
Olle swiped the broad flat of his tongue over Jamie’s hole, his hands clamping around Jamie’s hips and holding him up when he shuddered and his foot slipped down Olle’s back. The faint taste of lube wasn’t great, but Olle licked again, groaning when he realized that Jamie’s rim was still a little swollen.
God, he’d done that.
Olle dove in, giving Jamie his enthusiastic attention until Jamie’s balls pulled up tight and he clamped a hand around the base of his cock. Then Olle backed off, nosing along the crease between Jamie’s thigh and ass while sucking one of his own fingers into his mouth. He eased Jamie back onto the bed, letting him settle before sliding his cock back into his mouth and pushing his slick finger into Jamie’s ass.
Jamie thrashed, his chest heaving as Olle thrust his finger gently and sucked Jamie’s cock as deep as he dared.
Jamie clamped the pillow over his face with both arms, arched his back clear off the bed, and came with a muffled cry.
Olle swallowed quickly, drawing out Jamie’s orgasm until he shivered. Olle let Jamie’s cock slip from his lips and lay panting between Jamie’s splayed thighs, sweaty and hot and so fucking turned on. He ground his hips into the mattress while he caught his breath, dizzily trying to figure out if coming on Jamie when he was semi-incoherent would be rude.
A pillow sailed over Olle’s head, then Jamie’s fingers threaded into his hair and tugged, towing Olle up his body and into a long, filthy kiss. Jamie hummed at the taste of his own come on Olle’s tongue and pushed at Olle’s chest until he fell back against the cool footboard.
Olle stared up at Jamie as he climbed between Olle’s legs, Olle’s cock sliding along Jamie’s warm skin, leaking and painfully hard.
The familiar snick of a cap sent a shiver down Olle’s spine.
Jamie pressed a kiss behind Olle’s ear. “You said you like it to burn a little, right?” A cool, slick finger slid from behind Olle’s tight sac to swirl over his hole.
He nodded, words failing him.
Jamie moved back far enough to see Olle’s face, a smile flashing at whatever he saw before he caught Olle’s lower lip between his teeth and slid two fingers into his ass.
Olle went off like a fucking rocket.
Ten minutes later, Jamie lay sprawled across Olle’s chest, his chin propped on his folded hands, listening to him talk about what he was going to ship home to his parents for Christmas.
A gentle knock on the door made them freeze.
“If you two are…ahem…awake now,” Callum began, lifting his voice to be heard over the snickering from several other people on the other side of the door, “I could use Olle’s help with the extra tables in storage.”
“Do you want me to shower first?” Olle asked.
“How is that even a question?” Rupert cried. Jamie didn’t think he was asking Olle.
“Give me ten minutes!” Olle called, laughing.
Jamie was about to roll off him but Olle cupped his hand around the back of his head and drew him into a kiss. They burned one whole minute before Jamie pulled away and Olle sighed with disappointment.
Jamie slid to the side and curled up with his head on the pillows. “You go shower, and I’ll dash home to clean up and change.”
“Do you want to spend the night again?”
Jamie caught his lip between his teeth. “Do you think it would be okay?”
“I’ll ask the Dads and text you, okay? If that’s a yes.”
“Yes. Yes, it’s definitely a yes,” Jamie promised.
“Good,” Olle said, climbing from the bed. He smiled down at Jamie, his long hair hanging half in his face. He was so beautiful it made Jamie’s chest ache.
Olle bent down and kissed Jamie’s cheek. “I love you.”
Jamie stared at Olle’s magnificent ass as he wandered into the bathroom like he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on Jamie. The door clicked closed, spurring Jamie to leap from the bed, torn between jumping into the shower with Olle and running home to pack a bag and come back as soon as possible. He stuck with the plan, but only because there was an entire household outside this room and he was certain Olle would never meet his ten minute commitment if Jamie went into that bathroom.
The distance from the bedroom to the front door was the closest Jamie had ever come to doing a walk of shame—except he felt absolutely no shame at all. He couldn’t wipe the grin off his face, though he did blush furiously at his audience’s obvious delight and amusement. Thank god the children were still downstairs.
When he got back to the apartment, Chris and Tim were curled up together on the couch, watching a cooking show and bickering about whether or not Tim should iron Chris’s shirt for the party.
“Yes, you should,” Jamie said as he jogged past them. “It’s your bosses’ party.”
“Have a nice night?” Chris shouted down the hall as Jamie ducked into his room.
When Jamie reappeared with a small duffel and darted to the laundry closet, Tim hooted with laughter. “I guess you did.”
“I definitely did,” Jamie agreed, the stupid grin back on his face as he shoved things into the bag. He was probably packing too much, but there was the party, and they didn’t have a game for two days, so while he wasn’t sure if he should stay that long, he wanted to have stuff in case.
Chris wandered down the hall and leaned against the dryer. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Jamie said back, flashing him a smile before turning for his room again.
Chris trailed in his wake. “You moving out?” he asked curiously as Jamie grabbed the toiletries kit he kept packed for road trips.
Jamie stopped what he was doing and turned to his friend. “What? No.”
Chris arched an eyebrow.
“I don’t want to move out,” Jamie said.
“Yet,” Chris added.
“Yet,” Jamie agreed, sharing a smile with Chris. He opened his mouth, and closed it again.
Chris nudged his arm. “What?”
“Would it be okay with you guys if Olle spent the night sometimes?”
“Sure,” Chris said easily. “But if he’s going to move in, he has to pay rent.”
“No. I don’t think—not yet. Not in the middle of the season. But maybe he and I will look at places for next season.”
“Oh, yeah?”
Jamie grinned. “Yes. I mean, I have to talk to him about it, but…”
Chris nodded. “Good for you.”
Jamie tackle-hugged Chris and held on tight. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Getting me here. With Olle.”
“I had almost nothing to do with you, and definitely can’t take responsibility for Olle. Rupert wanted you from the minute I mentioned you needed a move.”
“God, I’m so lucky he needed a winger.”
“No, dude. Haven’t you figured it out yet?”
Jamie let go and stepped back. “What?”
“I mean, yes, you’re lucky, but he’s doing it on purpose. Building a—okay, I don’t want to say a gay team, because obviously that’s not what it is, or all it is, and we have tons of straight guys still, but yeah, I told him what happened and he went after you like a dog with a bone.”
“Because I’m gay?”
“I mean, and because you’re a great winger, but a great winger who was outed and struggling. You needed help. And he took Olle because he figured out Olle was protecting you on the ice, taking all those insane penalties. Rupert didn’t know if Olle was gay or straight. He just knew he’d fit here with us.”
“For real?”
“Yes.” Chris laughed, sounding as incredulous as Jamie felt. “It’s crazy.”
“We’re winning,” Jamie said, almost defensively, not that Chris needed to hear it.
“We are. And we will. Rupert told me his theory is that teams are great when they play for each other. When they have a shared purpose. I think Vegas convinced him of it once and for all. The right mix of talent still matters, but to win and push and really want it, you have to have a reason. He believes we can win it all if we have that.”
“We do. Have that,” Jamie said, realization setting in.
“And we’re winning,” Chris agreed with a nod.
“Holy shit,” Jamie whispered.
Chris smirked knowingly and left him to his packing.
By the time Jamie was showered and dressed and had his bag by the door, he was itching to get going. Olle had texted to say he could spend the night again and Jamie wanted to see his bag on the floor next to Olle’s travel bags. His stuff mixed with Olle’s in the bathroom.
God, he had it so bad.
The second he could leave and not show up at the party absurdly early, he was out the door like a shot. He was across town, parked, and to Rupert and Callum’s door before panic set in. Shit, how was he going to explain bringing an overnight bag to Thanksgiving dinner?
Callum opened the door and smirked. “Jamie, so nice to see you again.”
Jamie shook Callum’s hand and smiled weakly, trying to figure out a graceful way to go back down to his car.
“Here, let me take your coat,” Callum said smoothly. “We’re stacking them on the bed in the guest room,” he explained, sliding the duffle bag from Jamie’s shoulder to his own and folding Jamie’s coat over his arm.
The guy was slick. Jamie smiled up at him gratefully. “Thank you so much for inviting me.” He wasn’t just talking about the party.
“I’m trying to decide at what point I should start charging rent.”
“I’m getting that talk a lot today.”
Callum chuckled and turned for Olle’s room. Jamie went to the kitchen to ask if Alexei needed help and was waved off, left feeling useless until Rupert asked him to answer the door.
Jamie took on welcoming duty for a while, taking turns ferrying coats to Olle’s room, all the while making lingering eye contact with his boyfriend—still loving that—while he manned the makeshift bar at one corner of the kitchen counter. The apartment filled with a good portion of the team, and two dozen other people Jamie had never met before. He tried to remember all their names, but it was a lost cause. Rupert and Callum were active members of the community, and there were people from all walks of life, from as far as Nova Scotia, Boston, and Montreal.
The conversation went from a din to a dull roar as the food was served and some of the guests enjoyed their second or third drink. Jamie gravitated toward Olle more and more, pleased when Olle was shooed away from the bar and encouraged to mingle.
Jamie chuckled at the face Olle made at the idea of mingling, guiding him toward a group of their friends to spare him the torture. Jamie listened with one ear as the guys razzed Olle’s man-bun and Chris’s unusually tidy shirt, and watched the party unfold.
Olle bumped his shoulder after a while, his voice low. “You okay?”
“Yeah. I’m fine. I was just thinking how lucky we are to have been traded here.”
Olle smiled. “Yes.”
Jamie watched Callum and Alexei bicker affectionately over the stove, clearly giving each other shit about something. Rupert wandered close enough to the kitchen to hear what they were saying, rolled his eyes, and walked away.
Jamie glanced at Olle and found he was watching Rupert as he moved around the room. “I’m not sure if it’s luck, though,” Olle observed.
“No. Maybe not.” Jamie agreed, stepping aside to let Oliver and his bestie rush by. When he moved back to Olle, he leaned in closer and brushed their hands together. “But I feel lucky. Luckier than I deserve, to have this team. And you,” he said.
Olle turned to him. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. If you hadn’t walked away this morning, I would have had a chance to tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
“That I love you.”
A smile lit up Olle’s face. Jamie thought anyone who saw him would be able to tell what was going on between them. He almost warned Olle, suggested he tone it down, but Olle shocked him by stepping closer and taking his hand. Then the other, his smile never dimming, his gaze never leaving Jamie’s face.
The conversations around them trailed off, their friends and teammates going silent. The whole party could have gone silent, for all Jamie knew. His entire world had narrowed down to Olle.
“This okay?” Olle asked, cheeks pink but voice steady.
“Yes. Yes. Are you sure?”
“I am,” Olle said. “I’m sure about you, and I’m sure about us, and I’m sure about this.” He cupped Jamie’s face in his hands and kissed him softly, sweetly, on the lips.
Jamie’s heart was full to bursting with joy, the future full of promise and hockey and love.
Then he and Olle were tackled by a dozen of the most ridiculous hockey players on earth, and that was pretty perfect, too.