Chapter Seventeen

Third period. Two to one up. So close to winning, but still time for something to go wrong. Two to two and into overtime.

Canada was on home ice and though USA had the better team, they’d been on the back foot so many times. Dan was exhausted, couldn’t wait to find somewhere and just collapse, let the Olympics fade into a job well done. He would have a medal at the end of it—silver or gold—and right now, Dan would take either if it meant he could go to sleep.

Ian was on the ice, driving his way toward the net, and Dan was on edge. Their competition was still going on and though they were even, Dan wouldn’t have cared if Ian scored if it ended the game and gave them a medal, but the puck hit the post and Canada got the rebound.

“Fuck,” he said.

“Come on,” Rafael said, nudging his arm. “Still our shift to go.”

The second line came and went, and Canada was getting too many shots on goal. All it would take was one mistake, the goalie to let up just for a second. Then it was Dan’s turn to take the ice and he was there, skates touching frozen water and it was like he was back home, the sounds of the stadium fading away. Kayla was out there somewhere, Simon and Helena and Bobby, but Dan let them fade away too. He imagined it was Max in goal, always in goal because he was the youngest and the best at it, and he was skating down the ice, Rafael to one side, Alaric to the other, and the puck was sliding across the ice.

It hit the post.

Dan’s heart sunk.

The puck slid through the goalie’s pads and it was in the back of the net.

Holy shit.

He had scored a goal, in overtime, in the Olympics.

“Fuck!” Rafael screamed, slamming into Dan. “You did it! Holy shit, you did it!”

Alaric was next, then Swan, Ian, so many of his teammates and they’d won a gold medal.

“Oh, my God,” Dan said, clinging to Ian. “Fuck, man.”

Ian was grinning, shaking him. “You did it!”

Dan wasn’t quite sure how the rest of the time went; they’d won the medal, and the ceremony would happen right there on the ice, but it was like he was going through the motions, just waiting for something, even if he didn’t know what it was.

Behind the bench, his friends, his sister, were waiting for them, screaming and cheering in succession, but Dan couldn’t go to them, not yet. There was a lot of waiting around, a lot of organizing, but soon Team Canada were being given their medals, a lot of cheers for the home team and Dan was under no illusions that they’d be getting boos instead of cheers, but he didn’t even care.

By the time the medal was being placed around his neck, Dan clutched at it, not expecting to have ever wanted it as bad as he now did. It was a good weight, comfortable, and the only person he wanted to share it with was behind the bench. Photos were taken, teammates having screamed enough in his ear, Dan skated straight for the bench. There’d be media he’d have to do after scoring the winning shot, but he went straight up to the glass, to Kayla’s grinning face, to Bobby’s proud smile, and felt like a million dollars.

The screams were even louder up close, but both Kayla and Bobby pressed to the glass. It was Bobby Dan was looking at, Bobby that Dan grinned at when he held up the medal.

That was the picture that made the headlines that night, plastered over newspapers and magazines, all over the internet. Dan was staring at it an hour after the ceremony, dressed to leave the locker room, but unable to make himself leave. He was staring at the picture, at the obvious look on his face, besotted and in love. Most of the headlines were about sibling comradery—pictures side by side with Dan at Kayla’s performances—but there were others that matched up both Kayla and Bobby and wondering whether there was a burgeoning friendship there. Nobody explicitly said relationship, but Dan couldn’t help the word bouncing around his head.

The worst thing was not being scared about the prospect of people knowing but wanting it.

“Hey.”

Dan looked up to see Bobby in the doorway.

“How’d you get back here?”

“I have a pass,” Bobby said with a small smile. “Plus, Ian helped me get through the burly guys back there.”

Dan laughed gently, shoving his phone into his pocket.

“So,” Bobby said, coming toward him. “A gold medal.”

“Yeah,” Dan breathed, fingers itching to touch Bobby, to drag him down and kiss him. Conscious of just where they were, Dan stood slowly, rubbing his hands on his jeans. “Want to get out of here?”

Bobby’s smile was blinding. “We do have some celebrating to do.”

The celebrating was all that had been on Dan’s mind since the medal had been placed around his neck, and he was only too willing to follow Bobby from the locker room, threading through team members who were still cheering and celebrating. Dan felt giddy with it, couldn’t believe they’d won on Canadian soil.

The trip to his room seemed to take an age. Rafael had told Dan he would be making himself scarce and it was a conversation Dan would like to forget, even if he was grateful. Bobby shoved him up against the door, tongue already working its way into Dan’s mouth, hands shoving up under Dan’s shirt.

Dan tried to get the keycard in the door without looking, quite the challenge, but eventually, the familiar click of the lock opening broke through their making out and Dan shoved at the handle, the two of them tumbling inside.

Bobby laughed into his mouth as they worked at shoes and socks, shedding clothing as they made their way toward the furthest bed, Dan’s duvet still shoved halfway down in his haste to get to ready in the morning. He couldn’t even bother feeling embarrassed, just wanting to spread Bobby out on those sheets, touch him everywhere.

“You wanna fuck me?” Bobby said like it was nothing, and Dan groaned. “Or have me fuck you?”

Dan’s brain shorted out and it took him a while, staring at Bobby in wonder, to make up his mind. “Fuck me.”

Bobby swallowed thickly, his throat bobbing, but there was a small smile on his face, awed himself like he couldn’t believe Dan was letting him.

“I want to fuck you,” Dan said, testing the words in his mouth. Bobby looked just as interested in that, and he shoved up, kissing Dan hard. “But I like the idea of you—”

He didn’t know how to finish, but Bobby was already manhandling him, shoving his jacket off his shoulders.

“Leave your medal on,” Bobby said.

Dan nodded, licking his bottom lip. Bobby tugged at his t-shirt but waited for Dan to readjust his medal. It was cold against his skin and Dan hissed, but Bobby immediately touched it, fingers smoothing over the logo. Bobby’s eyes were on his chest, raised them slowly up to Dan’s chin, his face, and he lunged forward, kissing Dan hard. Dan took it, slipped his tongue into Bobby’s mouth and hauled him up, wanting him closer.

It was too much, skin singing with every touch, and Dan climbed onto the bed, having to separate just for a beat or two. He was reminded of the last time, Bobby hovering above him, and Dan closed his eyes, relished the touches, the words Bobby whispered against his skin.

Bobby’s fingers were on his sweatpants, pausing to press kisses against Dan’s stomach. His fingers were so close to where Dan wanted them that he found it difficult to breathe, wanted it all right now.

“Please,” Dan said. “Bobby.”

“I’ll get you there,” Bobby said, voice tight. He lowered the waistband of Dan’s pants, and Dan felt a flush of heat up his body. He hadn’t bothered to put boxers on after his shower at the rink, knowing exactly what he’d be doing. Bobby’s breath hitched, letting out a soft, “fuck.”

“All right?” Dan asked, nervous.

“Dan,” Bobby said, fingers sliding up Dan’s sides, feather-light and making Dan’s dick twitch. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

Dan swallowed. “I wanted you.”

“I wanted you too,” Bobby said, pressing a kiss to Dan’s thigh, tongue licking a stripe across Dan’s navel. He avoided Dan’s dick, even though it was filling quickly with every press of Bobby’s lips to his skin. It was all Dan could do not to thrust up toward his mouth.

“Bobby,” Dan said, touching Bobby’s face, thumb pressed to his bottom lip. “Are you going to—”

“I was gonna blow you,” Bobby said, and they’d done that so many times, Dan wouldn’t complain. “But I think I like making you wait.”

Dan groaned, closing his eyes. He dropped his hands to the bed, and Bobby chuckled lightly. There was the pop of a cap and Dan looked down to see a tube of something in Bobby’s hand.

“Lube,” he said. “It helps.”

“I know that,” Dan said, grinning. “It helps with hand jobs.”

“God,” Bobby said, eyes fluttering closed. Dan had imagined Bobby jerking off enough times to know what the expression looked like, liked to think that Bobby was doing the same with him. The visuals were intense, and Dan squirmed a little in embarrassment, unable to handle the idea of Bobby wanting him. When he met Bobby’s eyes, Bobby was staring at him, rubbing his fingers together, lube coating his hand, and then he slipped down between Dan’s legs. Dan sucked in a breath, letting it out slowly when Bobby rubbed at his hip. “Deep breaths, Dan. Don’t tense.”

Dan nodded, unclenching his hands. It helped to relax his body and he stared up at the ceiling, closing his eyes and telling himself that Bobby would take care of him, that it would be amazing no matter what.

At the first press of Bobby’s finger, Dan’s automatic reaction was to tighten up his body, but Bobby paused, giving him time to regain control.

“I’m okay,” Dan said, voice low.

“All right,” Bobby said, agreeably. His finger didn’t move, not until Dan had relaxed completely, breathing slow and easy.

It felt weird, like nothing Dan had ever felt before.

“It burns.”

“I know.” Bobby pressed a kiss to the head of Dan’s dick which had flagged a little. “if you don’t like it, we can stop.”

Dan didn’t want to stop. He wanted to be good at this. When he said so aloud, Bobby let out a little noise.

“You’re not bad at it if you don’t like it, Dan. I want to make this good for you.”

“I want to like it,” Dan pressed, but he promised that he would tell Bobby if he didn’t. Everything was so new, every touch so strange, but Dan wasn’t put off, he liked what they were doing, just the sight of Bobby between his legs, fingers rubbing against Dan’s perineum, slowly cupping his balls. Bobby’s finger was almost forgotten.

Almost.

The pressure increased.

“Bear down,” Bobby told him, rubbing soothing circles into Dan’s thigh.

Dan did as Bobby asked, and the pressure gave way to a little thrill of pleasure. “Oh.”

Bobby smiled, buried his finger to the knuckle. It was strange, Dan thought as he clenched down around Bobby’s finger, but it was a good strange. “Can you take more?”

“Yeah,” Dan said.

Bobby pulled back and whoa, fuck, there wasn’t anything earth-shattering about it except that Dan had never experienced it before, had never felt the burn of one finger and then the slide of a second, Bobby taking it slow.

“Fuck.” Dan clutched at the sheets, fisting them between his hands. “Bobby.”

“All right?” Bobby asked. It could have been annoying, have someone check on him so many times, but he was so attentive, so careful that Dan couldn’t find himself to hate it.

“Please,” Dan said. “I want more.”

Dan wasn’t sure if he did want more, or if he wanted to give it up completely, but then Bobby was pulling back. Dan expected him to try a third, but Bobby stuck with two, sliding them back in. This time he rubbed them gently against something and fuck, what the fuck—

“What was that?” Dan asked.

“That,” Bobby said, and Dan could hear the smile in his voice. “Was your prostate.”

Dan didn’t know what that was. Well, he had heard about it and knew it was there, but he didn’t know it could make him feel like that.

“Bobby.”

“It’s all right.” Bobby drew his fingers back, then rubbed once more at Dan’s prostate. He did it again and again. Each time a little shock of pleasure ran through Dan and he was groaning, body shaking with the effort of trying to keep still. “You can move.”

Even with permission, Dan didn’t. If he moved, it felt as if his whole body would fly apart and he’d never come together again. Bobby kissed the inside of his knee, the curve of his groin, slowly pulling back his fingers until they were hooked on the rim of Dan’s hole. Dan almost sobbed with the pleasure settling low in his belly and he whispered Bobby’s name, not sure he could make himself talk any louder.

Dan’s dick was hard again, curved against his belly and it twitched every time Bobby thrust his fingers in, rubbing against his prostate.

“You’re so hot,” Bobby said. “Look at you.”

Instead of shame, Dan felt a rush of pride and pleasure. Bobby was staring at him with awed affection and want, taking time to make it good for Dan. Having someone take care of him and want to make sure that he was cared for and having a good time was almost overwhelming.

Bobby pulled out, Dan immediately embarrassed by the whine he let out, but Bobby kissed him softly. “Hold on.”

Dan desperately wanted to get a hand on his dick, watching Bobby peel his clothes off slowly. He wasn’t putting on a show, it was too fast to try and make it sexy, but it still gave Dan a good view of his body, the slow expanse of revealed skin intoxicating. Stroking himself once, twice, Dan’s hips gave an involuntary hitch.

Pulling something from the pocket of his jeans, Bobby shuffled forward, back between Dan’s legs. The condom packet threw everything into stark reality; Bobby was going to fuck him. Dan closed his eyes, took a moment to breathe through his nose slowly. It was really happening, for the first time, Dan was gonna feel.

“Dan,” Bobby said gently. “You still with me?”

Dan nodded. “I still want it, Bobby, please.”

Acquainted with the size and girth of Bobby’s dick, Dan stared at it now, wondering if he could take something so thick and long. Given how he felt with Bobby’s fingers against his prostate, his legs quivered with the knowledge that Bobby’s cock would make it so much better.

Bobby was shifting his legs, bending Dan almost in half and God, his dick was right there, nestled between Dan’s ass cheeks, the head resting against Dan’s hole.

“Oh, God.” Dan fisted the sheets in his hands, closed his eyes against the burn and breathed through his nose.

“It’s all right,” Bobby soothed. “You’re doing so well.”

It seemed to take forever, and Dan was certain at one point he was going to shove Bobby away, but his body was accepting Bobby inch by inch. By the time Bobby was fully seated, Dan was shaking with emotion, pleasure pooling at the base of his spine, dick still hard against his stomach.

“Look at you,” Bobby said, eyes hungry as he raked them over Dan’s face, moving a hand down to brush one of Dan’s nipples.

Biting back on a curse, Dan jerked up against Bobby’s hand, intentionally allowing Bobby to shift inside of him and he let out a strangled sound, not that he would admit to it later. “Do that again. Move. Please.”

Bobby kissed the back of Dan’s leg, started to pull out. Dan wasn’t sure what he was feeling, only that he was full and stretched and his skin felt electrified as if every touch was going to make him cum.

Rolling his hips slowly, Bobby was whispering words to him that he couldn’t make out, could barely feel Bobby pulling out and pushing back in, just felt the pleasure of it, the burn of Bobby’s dick sliding against his skin.

It was better than everything else; better than Bobby’s mouth on him, better than Bobby’s fingers. Dan didn’t think it could get any better, but then Bobby shifted again as he pushed back, and pleasure shot down Dan’s spine, had him clutching at Bobby, letting out a whine that he couldn’t contain.

Bobby kept the pace, kept the angle and Dan was finding it difficult to catch a train of thought, to focus on anything that wasn’t Bobby’s cock rubbing over his prostate. Bobby had taught him so much in so little time and he wouldn’t ever forget it, not the way Bobby was pushing into him, not the look on his face as he planted sloppy kisses on Dan’s skin. Not the words Bobby was murmuring into his skin, talking a language Dan had no hope of understanding right then.

Dan’s dick had remained untouched for so long that it took the curl of Bobby’s fingers around it, solid and warm, for Dan to punch out a cry, body curling awkwardly, Bobby around him, in him, everywhere, and he was cumming over Bobby’s hand, gasping out breaths.

“That’s it,” Bobby said gently. “Fuck, Dan.”

Dan whimpered when Bobby pulled out, legs dropping to the bed, ache painful in his thighs. He was distantly glad that he didn’t have hockey to play anymore before Bobby was crawling up his body, hand on his own dick.

“Bobby,” Dan breathed, sated and happy, coming back to himself enough to wrap his own fingers over Bobby’s. It only took a few pulls; the arm Bobby was using to hold himself up quivering as if it was going to drop at any moment.

Bobby came with a soft cry of Dan’s name, and Dan felt it against his skin, unable to bring himself to care about where it was, only that he did that, made Bobby look at him like that. Bobby groaned, flopping next to Dan on the bed, unable to keep himself up anymore, one arm still pressed to Dan’s chest.

“So,” Dan said, grinning up at the ceiling.

Bobby chuckled, rolling over to rest his chin against Dan’s shoulder. His hand was on Dan’s heart, tapping out a rhythm Dan couldn’t identify against his skin. “So.”

“That,” Dan said slowly, dropping his eyes back to Bobby. He probably looked like an idiot, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. “Was amazing.”

“Not bad for a first time, huh?” Bobby kissed his chest above a nipple.

Dan huffed a laugh, pretended to think about it. “I don’t have much of a frame of reference.”

“You’re enough to give a guy some hang-ups about his prowess, Daniel.” Bobby was smiling, and Dan apologized with a soft kiss.

Dan felt sated and happy, boneless. He was content to stay where he was for the rest of the night and not move until the morning. It was a little gross, though, so he reluctantly grabbed a washcloth from the bathroom to clean them both off. Before returning it, he pecked Bobby on the mouth. “You were passable.”

Bobby was still laughing when he returned, but he shifted over toward the wall, giving Dan enough room to slip in beside him.

“These beds are not made for two people,” Dan grumbled, satisfied only when Bobby stretched out next to him, head pillowed on Dan’s arm and hand thrown over his chest. It felt right and had Dan’s skin tingling with want. His mind wandered to what it would be like after, whether he could ever have this away from the Olympics before chastising himself.

It didn’t matter what happened after, only that he had Bobby at that moment.