Tumbling Down: Part 17, Romance, R/NC-17
Part Seventeen
“Mmm…”
I sighed contently as a hot stream of water hit the back of my neck. The glass door of the shower fogged up as steam rose from the heated water, soothing my tired muscles; washing the dirt and sweat from my skin. I ducked my head beneath the pounding spray, closing my eyes as the water slicked my hair, plastering it against my forehead. My body ached with the pleasant burn of exercised muscles, and the familiar throbbing brought a small smile to my lips.
Nikolai and I had been going back to Nationwide for training, hitting the bikes, the weights. We had been going for almost a week, prompted by Nikky’s restless desire to get back into shape. He felt sluggish, he said; trapped in a body that felt weighted, slow. Since he was still Blue Jackets property-at the time of the accident, he still had two more years on his contract-he was willingly permitted to practice at Nationwide, practice with the team. My own contract status was a bit hazy-I was technically an unrestricted free agent, but had still been contemplating hockey and its place in my life; whether I wanted to continue with it. If I had been going to re-sign I’d planned that it be with Columbus, but then the crash happened, and I lost my concern for…everything.
Mostly Nikolai and I had been using the exercise machines: the bikes, the cross trainers, the weights. Often we worked out alone, while the team was off on a roadtrip, or just trying to stay out of their way, but sometimes we practiced along with them. Skating, shooting, handling pucks; basic skills in hockey. Nik took to the idea instantly, and participated eagerly in the demanding practices. The guys were careful with him, gentle, but he was eager to remember and comfortable on the ice, body recalling without too much difficulty just what hockey felt like.
His English was steadily improving, too, facilitated by contact with our friends. It was halting and tentative, and he fumbled over his words, but it was understandable. Having Nikky around for skates and training days energized Rick and Rusty, and they, along with Gilbert and occasionally Ole-Kristian, tried to spend as much time as they could with him. Going out to lunch, to movies, shows, playing the occasional game of football-soccer-and of course a favorite, paintball, they dragged us both or even just Nik alone to do activities outside of the apartment. I still took him to see our old intimate haunts-Tchaikovsky, Stravinsky, Davydov-but the guys added another dimension. They introduced Nikky to the new; I helped him to remember the old.
I’d also been dealing with getting Nik situated in his old life again. Technical issues, everyday issues, matters like old bills and the lease on his apartment; renewing his license to make sure he could still recall how to drive in America. His bank account had been shut down; he’d left control to me in case anything ever happened to him, and I’d done the same-but I had never touched it. I’d just given him one of my credit cards when we’d gotten back from Yekaterinburg. But it rubbed Nikky the wrong way to always be ‘mooching’ off me, despite the fact I repeatedly said I didn’t mind-so we got it all figured out, with just about everything back to normal, save our careers and our personal lives.
But it was good, seeing Nikolai being independent again. It gave him a tremendous boost of confidence and self-assurance to be doing things ‘normally’; things he would have been doing otherwise if not for the crash and his memory loss. The simple delight he got from just going on his own to the store to buy groceries never failed to amuse me, seeing that silly grin on his lips when he walked in the door.
The water had cooled and I adjusted the temperature, heating it up again. The drain made a little whirlpool at the bottom of the tub that swirled round and round, little white soap bubbles disappearing through the ring of metal. I rested my palm flat against the wall and tilted my head down, watching the small tornado at my feet, water raining down in a simulated torrential storm.
There were still things about Nikolai that surprised me. Changes in little things that threw me off; his dislike of peanuts and peanut butter, which he used to be fine with eating, his intolerance of having the apartment temperatures too high or too cold… Little things, insignificant things, that I’d once taken for granted but now had to stop and do a double-take about. I needed to take Igor’s advice closer to heart-to open my mind to a Nik just slightly different from the personality that I remembered.
…but, then, some things hadn’t changed at all. I could still remember that night, almost two weeks ago now, where Nik had been pressed beneath me on the couch… God, I shouldn’t have moved so fast for him, but the sounds he had been making, the whimpers, had just gone straight to my head. They’d brought up old memories both in my body and my mind, recalling all those times we had made love; slow and languid, hot and heavy. The crash had taken that, that intimacy, and there was an ache twisting my insides that went deeper than just to my dick. It was a raw ache, a painful ache, one that missed the ability to touch; to feel. To touch Nikolai, and have him touch me in return. I missed being able to hold him, being able to touch him in such a way that made his head fall back in pleasure, his fingers curling in the sheets-his grey eyes darken to midnight black. I loved the Nik I was presented with now, laughing and spirited and energetic, but I also wanted that other Nik: the one whose voice could drop to a husky, sultry baritone…whose passion for life was converted to the same in bed, fiery and alive.
Whose want for me transcended physical boundaries; who reiterated the emotions deep in my chest, deep in my soul, and made me feel more complete than I had ever thought would be possible. They say that men don’t have a deep emotional attachment to sex, but-when I’m with Nikky like that, connected to him like that… There isn’t any greater emotional high. Seeing him lying beneath me, bronze skin glistening with a sheen of sweat, his neck arched and bared in a gesture so trusting it takes my breath away. Seeing his eyes, soft and loving; feeling his hands caressing my shoulders as he encourages me to move, his head falling back as pleasure consumes us both...
Nothing can top that. Not a single thing.
“Mind if I join you?” Nikolai’s voice whispered in my mind’s ear, the memory of it making me shiver. Strong arms wrapping around me as he stepped up close, mouthing the water on my skin as he pressed his chest flush against my back; nuzzling my ear. His fingers trailing down my body, running along rivulets of soapy water-touch light as the brush of a butterfly’s wings.
And slowly, agonizingly, I led my own hands down that same path.
“I always think about doing this with you in the showers after games,” he chuckled as I’d gasped, his fingers, cool in contrast to the hot water, curling around my shaft.
My own fingers were hot as I wrapped them around myself.
“Hitch would have an apoplectic fit,” I replied breathlessly, closing my eyes, letting my head fall back on his shoulder. Strong, firm; supporting my weight as I leaned into his touch.
“Doubt that. He’s run into Rick and Rusty having sex so many times he’s probably used to it by now. Poor guy.”
I closed my eyes, biting my lip as my own strokes grew stronger, quicker.
“Please stop talking about our coach. It’s not exactly something I want to think about-ah!-when I’m…when I’m getting-off…”
“Sorry,” Nikolai chuckled. I knew he wasn’t, devilish as he is, but I let it pass as he licked my neck, lapping at the water that was still pounding down on us. Touching me firm and expertly, knowing just how to make my body spasm in his grip; make my toes curl against the blue-white tile.
“Nik,” I whispered aloud, head hanging as pleasure surged through my veins. The weight of the water was almost crushing, droplets lashing at my skin like acid rain. But still the pleasure grew, mounting, rising, and a moan forced its way out through my lips.
“You’re so cute like that, you know?” Nik’s eyes were crinkled at the corners, laughing at me, his mouth turned up and the sweetest, purest smile on his lips. I glared, though it came out more like a sulky pout, and threw a wadded-up tissue at his head. It missed by a large margin and he didn’t even bother to dodge.
I whimpered, stroking faster, fisting harder; swallowing against the lump in my throat.
“We need to get a house some day,” Nik said speculatively, running a finger down my bare chest, making a trail through the sweat on my skin. “Going back and forth between our apartments is too troublesome. After games and roadtrips, I want to know we have a real home to go back to…”
I let out a long, low groan, breathing in air with sharp pants and harsh gasps.
“I don’t care what those bastards say,” he said fiercely, grabbing my hand, tilting my head up from its dejected slump. “They’re full of shit anyway. You’re the kindest, gentlest man I know, Sergei. You’re sweet and lovable, and you’re the person that I love. You’re the only person that I love. That I’ll ever love.”
I threw my head back, mouth open wide in a silent scream as the force of my orgasm tore through me. White light burst beneath my eyelids in a shocking wave, shaking my body like a sapling caught in a hurricane, and I slowly, slowly fell to my knees, hand sliding down the wall. The tile was hard, unforgiving porcelain, and the shower spray battered my sensitized skin with sharp pinpricks of sensation. I stared at the blue and white tile beneath me, choking for breath, my vision blurred, water streaming down my cheeks.
And I felt desolate.
-
“Mmm…”
I sighed contently as a hot stream of water hit the back of my neck. The glass door of the shower fogged up as steam rose from the heated water, soothing my tired muscles; washing the dirt and sweat from my skin. I ducked my head beneath the pounding spray, closing my eyes as the water slicked my hair, plastering it against my forehead. My body ached with the pleasant burn of exercised muscles, and the familiar throbbing brought a small smile to my lips.
Nikolai and I had been going back to Nationwide for training, hitting the bikes, the weights. We had been going for almost a week, prompted by Nikky’s restless desire to get back into shape. He felt sluggish, he said; trapped in a body that felt weighted, slow. Since he was still Blue Jackets property-at the time of the accident, he still had two more years on his contract-he was willingly permitted to practice at Nationwide, practice with the team. My own contract status was a bit hazy-I was technically an unrestricted free agent, but had still been contemplating hockey and its place in my life; whether I wanted to continue with it. If I had been going to re-sign I’d planned that it be with Columbus, but then the crash happened, and I lost my concern for…everything.
Mostly Nikolai and I had been using the exercise machines: the bikes, the cross trainers, the weights. Often we worked out alone, while the team was off on a roadtrip, or just trying to stay out of their way, but sometimes we practiced along with them. Skating, shooting, handling pucks; basic skills in hockey. Nik took to the idea instantly, and participated eagerly in the demanding practices. The guys were careful with him, gentle, but he was eager to remember and comfortable on the ice, body recalling without too much difficulty just what hockey felt like.
His English was steadily improving, too, facilitated by contact with our friends. It was halting and tentative, and he fumbled over his words, but it was understandable. Having Nikky around for skates and training days energized Rick and Rusty, and they, along with Gilbert and occasionally Ole-Kristian, tried to spend as much time as they could with him. Going out to lunch, to movies, shows, playing the occasional game of football-soccer-and of course a favorite, paintball, they dragged us both or even just Nik alone to do activities outside of the apartment. I still took him to see our old intimate haunts-Tchaikovsky, Stravinsky, Davydov-but the guys added another dimension. They introduced Nikky to the new; I helped him to remember the old.
I’d also been dealing with getting Nik situated in his old life again. Technical issues, everyday issues, matters like old bills and the lease on his apartment; renewing his license to make sure he could still recall how to drive in America. His bank account had been shut down; he’d left control to me in case anything ever happened to him, and I’d done the same-but I had never touched it. I’d just given him one of my credit cards when we’d gotten back from Yekaterinburg. But it rubbed Nikky the wrong way to always be ‘mooching’ off me, despite the fact I repeatedly said I didn’t mind-so we got it all figured out, with just about everything back to normal, save our careers and our personal lives.
But it was good, seeing Nikolai being independent again. It gave him a tremendous boost of confidence and self-assurance to be doing things ‘normally’; things he would have been doing otherwise if not for the crash and his memory loss. The simple delight he got from just going on his own to the store to buy groceries never failed to amuse me, seeing that silly grin on his lips when he walked in the door.
The water had cooled and I adjusted the temperature, heating it up again. The drain made a little whirlpool at the bottom of the tub that swirled round and round, little white soap bubbles disappearing through the ring of metal. I rested my palm flat against the wall and tilted my head down, watching the small tornado at my feet, water raining down in a simulated torrential storm.
There were still things about Nikolai that surprised me. Changes in little things that threw me off; his dislike of peanuts and peanut butter, which he used to be fine with eating, his intolerance of having the apartment temperatures too high or too cold… Little things, insignificant things, that I’d once taken for granted but now had to stop and do a double-take about. I needed to take Igor’s advice closer to heart-to open my mind to a Nik just slightly different from the personality that I remembered.
…but, then, some things hadn’t changed at all. I could still remember that night, almost two weeks ago now, where Nik had been pressed beneath me on the couch… God, I shouldn’t have moved so fast for him, but the sounds he had been making, the whimpers, had just gone straight to my head. They’d brought up old memories both in my body and my mind, recalling all those times we had made love; slow and languid, hot and heavy. The crash had taken that, that intimacy, and there was an ache twisting my insides that went deeper than just to my dick. It was a raw ache, a painful ache, one that missed the ability to touch; to feel. To touch Nikolai, and have him touch me in return. I missed being able to hold him, being able to touch him in such a way that made his head fall back in pleasure, his fingers curling in the sheets-his grey eyes darken to midnight black. I loved the Nik I was presented with now, laughing and spirited and energetic, but I also wanted that other Nik: the one whose voice could drop to a husky, sultry baritone…whose passion for life was converted to the same in bed, fiery and alive.
Whose want for me transcended physical boundaries; who reiterated the emotions deep in my chest, deep in my soul, and made me feel more complete than I had ever thought would be possible. They say that men don’t have a deep emotional attachment to sex, but-when I’m with Nikky like that, connected to him like that… There isn’t any greater emotional high. Seeing him lying beneath me, bronze skin glistening with a sheen of sweat, his neck arched and bared in a gesture so trusting it takes my breath away. Seeing his eyes, soft and loving; feeling his hands caressing my shoulders as he encourages me to move, his head falling back as pleasure consumes us both...
Nothing can top that. Not a single thing.
“Mind if I join you?” Nikolai’s voice whispered in my mind’s ear, the memory of it making me shiver. Strong arms wrapping around me as he stepped up close, mouthing the water on my skin as he pressed his chest flush against my back; nuzzling my ear. His fingers trailing down my body, running along rivulets of soapy water-touch light as the brush of a butterfly’s wings.
And slowly, agonizingly, I led my own hands down that same path.
“I always think about doing this with you in the showers after games,” he chuckled as I’d gasped, his fingers, cool in contrast to the hot water, curling around my shaft.
My own fingers were hot as I wrapped them around myself.
“Hitch would have an apoplectic fit,” I replied breathlessly, closing my eyes, letting my head fall back on his shoulder. Strong, firm; supporting my weight as I leaned into his touch.
“Doubt that. He’s run into Rick and Rusty having sex so many times he’s probably used to it by now. Poor guy.”
I closed my eyes, biting my lip as my own strokes grew stronger, quicker.
“Please stop talking about our coach. It’s not exactly something I want to think about-ah!-when I’m…when I’m getting-off…”
“Sorry,” Nikolai chuckled. I knew he wasn’t, devilish as he is, but I let it pass as he licked my neck, lapping at the water that was still pounding down on us. Touching me firm and expertly, knowing just how to make my body spasm in his grip; make my toes curl against the blue-white tile.
“Nik,” I whispered aloud, head hanging as pleasure surged through my veins. The weight of the water was almost crushing, droplets lashing at my skin like acid rain. But still the pleasure grew, mounting, rising, and a moan forced its way out through my lips.
“You’re so cute like that, you know?” Nik’s eyes were crinkled at the corners, laughing at me, his mouth turned up and the sweetest, purest smile on his lips. I glared, though it came out more like a sulky pout, and threw a wadded-up tissue at his head. It missed by a large margin and he didn’t even bother to dodge.
I whimpered, stroking faster, fisting harder; swallowing against the lump in my throat.
“We need to get a house some day,” Nik said speculatively, running a finger down my bare chest, making a trail through the sweat on my skin. “Going back and forth between our apartments is too troublesome. After games and roadtrips, I want to know we have a real home to go back to…”
I let out a long, low groan, breathing in air with sharp pants and harsh gasps.
“I don’t care what those bastards say,” he said fiercely, grabbing my hand, tilting my head up from its dejected slump. “They’re full of shit anyway. You’re the kindest, gentlest man I know, Sergei. You’re sweet and lovable, and you’re the person that I love. You’re the only person that I love. That I’ll ever love.”
I threw my head back, mouth open wide in a silent scream as the force of my orgasm tore through me. White light burst beneath my eyelids in a shocking wave, shaking my body like a sapling caught in a hurricane, and I slowly, slowly fell to my knees, hand sliding down the wall. The tile was hard, unforgiving porcelain, and the shower spray battered my sensitized skin with sharp pinpricks of sensation. I stared at the blue and white tile beneath me, choking for breath, my vision blurred, water streaming down my cheeks.
And I felt desolate.
-