LET LOVE IN
Title: Let Love In
Authors: geekintehpink
Fandom: NHL > Boston Bruins
Characters: Glen Murray/Marc Savard
Word Count: 2,252
Rating: NC17
You're the only one I ever believed in
The answer that could never be found
The moment you decided to let love in
Now I'm banging on the door of an angel
The end of fear is where we begin
The moment we decided to let love in
Though the rest of the team was walking around with slumped shoulders and perpetual scowls on their faces, I noticed that Marc and I both had equally large smiles on. And it made me feel great, because that most likely meant that the communication between us would be silent. And the hotel room wouldn't be filled with that looming awkwardness that had come when I was in that slump. And the second bed wouldn't be used. And...God. This feeling was long overdue. I felt...useful. And like I hadn't let everyone down. Hell, coach had even told me that everyone had let me down. Which was something I had never heard. I made sure that I was quick to point out, though, that Marc had not let me down. And he was quick to agree with me on that, which was good. Because Marc didn't deserve any flack for that loss. He'd worked his ass off.
I looked at him with a grin as he straightened his tie and we made the quick walk across the street to the hotel that the team was staying at. We said our goodnights to PJ and Tim, who headed solemnly toward their room. They were both going through a rough time, which as I knew, being a Bruin, was something that was all but unforgivable by the Boston faithful. Not that it was anything against the fans, because half the time, I didn't forgive myself, either when I slumped like that. It was funny. Because five different reporters had asked me what it was that brought me out of that slump I was in. To be politically correct, I had said that it was the talk that I'd had with coach before the game. He'd told me that he had a feeling about tonight. Which was great, and it was a good ruse to tell the media so that I didn't have to come up with a lie on the fly, but that really wasn't what did it.
The night before, when Marc and I were laying in bed...just laying there, not doing anything special, just being entwined under the covers, I'd told myself something. I was going to break this. Get over whatever it was that was in my head and preventing me from being what Marc seemed to be convinced that I could be. I cycled through everything I had thought since the season began. The incident in San Jose and the one night stand with Tim Connolly; the fighting with Marc and the refusing his forgiveness, and then I realized something. In this whole thing, it had been my guilt that had prevented me from doing anything productive with myself. It had been my guilt, and my inability to forgive myself, regardless of whether or not Marc had forgiven me, that was keeping me from doing what I'd done in the past.
It had been one of those deep nights for me, really. Marc had fallen alseep almost instantly, mostly because it had been another emotional day, filled with 'what if' scenarios and promises of 'I'll still love you, and I'll never look at someone else.' And tears. God, there had been too many tears. And it had been exhausting. So, Marc had fallen asleep almost instantaneously that night, and I had been left there to think of everything that had happened over the past few years, really. From Joe to Izzy...to Sammy and Travis even, and the fact that...God, I had my perfect match, my natural center right here with me, and I still wasn't over it. I was still Mr. Misery and Woe, and I just...couldn't let it go. And after that, I just froze for a second. And asked myself why I couldn't let it go.
Marc wasn't Joe. At all. Marc wasn't Izzy or Travis or Sammy and he was doing what he was brought here to do. Doing what he had to do to stay here with me. As much as I'd loved him before, when he said that he did what he did because he wanted to stay here, with me, I loved him all that much more. I realized, right then, that as long as he was here? It was okay to let the past go. It was okay to just...be happy. Be Glen Murray. Not 'Joe's ex-lover' or 'pathetic Glen who is a shell of himself and relies on Travis and Sammy to put him back together.' Not even 'Izzy's Glen.' Marc let me be Glen Murray. My own man. Someone who wasn't identified by who I was with, but by what I did. And...right then, I wasn't doing much. So I needed to change that. To prove to Marc, to the fans, to myself even, that I didn't need someone else to define me. I had scraped together those two goals and that assist because Marc gave me the confidence and the freedom to do it.
I smiled as I closed the door behind me, and looked at Marc, who's bright blue eyes glistened with a hunger that suggested that he had something planned. But no. I needed to thank him. Show him that I saw all that he'd done for me, even unintentionally. I grabbed the do-not-disturb sign and reopened the door, hanging it on the knob and ascending upon Marc in a sort of slinking manner, watching as he followed me intently. He looked up and his eyes met mine, and we just stared at each other for a second. He was about to speak, but really, the moment didn't need words, especially since I knew he would ask me how I wanted him tonight. And I wanted to do what he wanted this time. I wanted to show him how much I loved him. “I love you...you know that?” I asked. I figured telling him was a good way to start.
He smiled up at me and put his hands on my chest, over my shirt. “I love you, too...I'm so proud of you, Glen-” he was about to continue, but I shushed him, as all I needed to hear was the 'I love you.' I started playing at the buttons on his suit jacket, and watching as his hands went to mine. Okay. Even keel was fine with me. As long as he was being rewarded too. I couldn't get enough of that hungry look in his eyes. The way he looked at me as though I was the only one in the world worth looking at. And it fueled me even more. I pushed his jacket over his shoulders and watched as he took his hands off of me for a second to allow me to remove the overcoat, and smiled at me. “I love it when you take control...” he half-gasped, not even realizing that he had just fueled me more, I don't think.
I turned him around and backed him the short distance between us and the wall, smiling down at him. Him first. Me later. I put my hands on his belt and looked down at him, leaning down a bit and pressing my lips to his and trailing a kiss down his jawline, and his neck. I listened to him speak. “Glen...I want you...” he cried, and I couldn't help but grin as I finally got his belt buckle undone. The button of his slacks and the zipper became quick work, and I watched like a pleased animal as his boxers came into view. His slacks stayed at his knees, and his boxers followed...and...there he was. I couldn't wait any longer. My hands and mouth were on him then...taking in the intoxicating flavor that I'd grown so accustomed to over the past year. I did all the things I usually did to drive him insane, watching in pride as he writhed and cried out for more. “G-Glen...please...”
I moaned around him when he made that noise, and ran hungry hands up the backs of his thighs and squeezing his ass cheeks, driving him deeper into my mouth. It wasn't like I wasn't already used to the size of him. But...the sound he made then? Was almost enough to bring me off on it's own. And the feel of him so far back in my throat was like a drug. I made a swallowing motion around his head, and listened to the escalating moans that made their way from his lips, which eventually formed into words. “Glen...baby, I'm about to...” he paused for a second, as though speaking the words had driven him breathless, and leaned his head back against the wall, finishing with an, “OH, GOD!” and exploding into my mouth like an overfilled water balloon.
I swallowed every last bit of it down, sucking him dry of every last bit that he had to offer, before slowly pulling my head back and glancing up at him as he leaned, absolutely dead weight, against the wall. I pulled myself from my knees and looked into his eyes, the ecstatic look there being exactly what I needed to see. “I love you, baby...” I spoke in a rasp.
“I love you too...” he looked at me with a hazy look in his eyes, though there was a latent predatory look that made my cock twitch even more than it already was. And I was about to ask what it was about when I felt him push me with all his might, tumbling me down to the bed and crawling over me, tearing at my shirt like a Tasmanian devil. I moaned already, though he hadn't even started yet, and he looked at me with a pleased look in his eye. “Good. I'm glad you're ready for this...” he chuckled a bit and tossed my shirt to the floor, making quick work of getting both of us out of our clothes, and to the nudity that we'd actually become accustomed to around each other. Once again, I prepared to open my mouth to ask a question, but he stifled me with a kiss, and I noticed a slight cringe, probably at the taste of his own seed on my lips.
But after this, he made his way down my neck, kissing along my shoulders and chest, pausing to lavish each nipple with a bit of attention. I loved the way his tongue worked it's way along the tender skin of my nipples, too. No one else had been able to do that, but...God knows he could. It sent little trails of fire through the nerves and thus, through the rest of my body, making my already throbbing cock yearn for him even more. “P-please don't tease me...” I whispered, trying as hard as I could not to thrust my hips upward and show him how desperately I needed him. But, I failed. And I watched as he grinned a little. “Wh-what?” I asked breathlessly, watching as the grin on his face grew. “Don't t-tease me, Marc...”
He smiled and continued his journey down, and I felt a wave of ecstasy as he started taking me in, and then did as only Marc could do to me. Running his tongue along my shaft, with his hands massaging my balls and gently pressing against my entrance. I have to admit, I hadn't expected this, but as one finger slid in, curling and brushing lightly against my prostate, I clung to the sheets like no tomorrow, as all the breath was stolen from my body. I tried to speak, to moan-anything, but nothing was there. This was...unlike anything I had ever felt before. And I didn't know how much of it I could take. I tried to warn him that I was about to be driven over the edge, but it came out as more of a silent scream. But he caught on. And increased the speed of his affections to my cock, at the same time, drawing back and brushing my prostate again. And I couldn't take anymore. I exploded into his mouth, throwing my head back against the mattress and crying out with whatever I had left in me.
I was out of it for what felt like forever, focusing on the mind-blowing orgasm my lover had just given me, but when I finally came to, I noticed that he'd scooted up to eye-level with me, and we were both underneath the blankets, with him laying against my shoulder, idly drawing circles on my chest. “So, the plan is...” I finally spoke, in a raspy tone that hardly sounded like my own voice, drawing Marc's attention to me. “I score two goals a game from here on out in the season, and we do this every night. Okay?”
Marc laughed and nodded his head, leaning against my shoulder. “I definitely don't have a problem with that,” he spoke in that post-sex rasp that I loved.
I reminded myself that this was okay; feeling this at ease, and just let myself fall into the moment, smiling and chuckling lightly along with Marc, running a hand through his hair. I reminded myself that this was how it was supposed to be. He and I, together, no nervousness about lack of production...just...being there. And it was an amazing feeling.
Maybe things didn't always have to be so bad.
There's nothing we can do about
The things we have to do without
The only way to feel again
Is let love in
lyrics by the Goo Goo Dolls
Authors: geekintehpink
Fandom: NHL > Boston Bruins
Characters: Glen Murray/Marc Savard
Word Count: 2,252
Rating: NC17
You're the only one I ever believed in
The answer that could never be found
The moment you decided to let love in
Now I'm banging on the door of an angel
The end of fear is where we begin
The moment we decided to let love in
Though the rest of the team was walking around with slumped shoulders and perpetual scowls on their faces, I noticed that Marc and I both had equally large smiles on. And it made me feel great, because that most likely meant that the communication between us would be silent. And the hotel room wouldn't be filled with that looming awkwardness that had come when I was in that slump. And the second bed wouldn't be used. And...God. This feeling was long overdue. I felt...useful. And like I hadn't let everyone down. Hell, coach had even told me that everyone had let me down. Which was something I had never heard. I made sure that I was quick to point out, though, that Marc had not let me down. And he was quick to agree with me on that, which was good. Because Marc didn't deserve any flack for that loss. He'd worked his ass off.
I looked at him with a grin as he straightened his tie and we made the quick walk across the street to the hotel that the team was staying at. We said our goodnights to PJ and Tim, who headed solemnly toward their room. They were both going through a rough time, which as I knew, being a Bruin, was something that was all but unforgivable by the Boston faithful. Not that it was anything against the fans, because half the time, I didn't forgive myself, either when I slumped like that. It was funny. Because five different reporters had asked me what it was that brought me out of that slump I was in. To be politically correct, I had said that it was the talk that I'd had with coach before the game. He'd told me that he had a feeling about tonight. Which was great, and it was a good ruse to tell the media so that I didn't have to come up with a lie on the fly, but that really wasn't what did it.
The night before, when Marc and I were laying in bed...just laying there, not doing anything special, just being entwined under the covers, I'd told myself something. I was going to break this. Get over whatever it was that was in my head and preventing me from being what Marc seemed to be convinced that I could be. I cycled through everything I had thought since the season began. The incident in San Jose and the one night stand with Tim Connolly; the fighting with Marc and the refusing his forgiveness, and then I realized something. In this whole thing, it had been my guilt that had prevented me from doing anything productive with myself. It had been my guilt, and my inability to forgive myself, regardless of whether or not Marc had forgiven me, that was keeping me from doing what I'd done in the past.
It had been one of those deep nights for me, really. Marc had fallen alseep almost instantly, mostly because it had been another emotional day, filled with 'what if' scenarios and promises of 'I'll still love you, and I'll never look at someone else.' And tears. God, there had been too many tears. And it had been exhausting. So, Marc had fallen asleep almost instantaneously that night, and I had been left there to think of everything that had happened over the past few years, really. From Joe to Izzy...to Sammy and Travis even, and the fact that...God, I had my perfect match, my natural center right here with me, and I still wasn't over it. I was still Mr. Misery and Woe, and I just...couldn't let it go. And after that, I just froze for a second. And asked myself why I couldn't let it go.
Marc wasn't Joe. At all. Marc wasn't Izzy or Travis or Sammy and he was doing what he was brought here to do. Doing what he had to do to stay here with me. As much as I'd loved him before, when he said that he did what he did because he wanted to stay here, with me, I loved him all that much more. I realized, right then, that as long as he was here? It was okay to let the past go. It was okay to just...be happy. Be Glen Murray. Not 'Joe's ex-lover' or 'pathetic Glen who is a shell of himself and relies on Travis and Sammy to put him back together.' Not even 'Izzy's Glen.' Marc let me be Glen Murray. My own man. Someone who wasn't identified by who I was with, but by what I did. And...right then, I wasn't doing much. So I needed to change that. To prove to Marc, to the fans, to myself even, that I didn't need someone else to define me. I had scraped together those two goals and that assist because Marc gave me the confidence and the freedom to do it.
I smiled as I closed the door behind me, and looked at Marc, who's bright blue eyes glistened with a hunger that suggested that he had something planned. But no. I needed to thank him. Show him that I saw all that he'd done for me, even unintentionally. I grabbed the do-not-disturb sign and reopened the door, hanging it on the knob and ascending upon Marc in a sort of slinking manner, watching as he followed me intently. He looked up and his eyes met mine, and we just stared at each other for a second. He was about to speak, but really, the moment didn't need words, especially since I knew he would ask me how I wanted him tonight. And I wanted to do what he wanted this time. I wanted to show him how much I loved him. “I love you...you know that?” I asked. I figured telling him was a good way to start.
He smiled up at me and put his hands on my chest, over my shirt. “I love you, too...I'm so proud of you, Glen-” he was about to continue, but I shushed him, as all I needed to hear was the 'I love you.' I started playing at the buttons on his suit jacket, and watching as his hands went to mine. Okay. Even keel was fine with me. As long as he was being rewarded too. I couldn't get enough of that hungry look in his eyes. The way he looked at me as though I was the only one in the world worth looking at. And it fueled me even more. I pushed his jacket over his shoulders and watched as he took his hands off of me for a second to allow me to remove the overcoat, and smiled at me. “I love it when you take control...” he half-gasped, not even realizing that he had just fueled me more, I don't think.
I turned him around and backed him the short distance between us and the wall, smiling down at him. Him first. Me later. I put my hands on his belt and looked down at him, leaning down a bit and pressing my lips to his and trailing a kiss down his jawline, and his neck. I listened to him speak. “Glen...I want you...” he cried, and I couldn't help but grin as I finally got his belt buckle undone. The button of his slacks and the zipper became quick work, and I watched like a pleased animal as his boxers came into view. His slacks stayed at his knees, and his boxers followed...and...there he was. I couldn't wait any longer. My hands and mouth were on him then...taking in the intoxicating flavor that I'd grown so accustomed to over the past year. I did all the things I usually did to drive him insane, watching in pride as he writhed and cried out for more. “G-Glen...please...”
I moaned around him when he made that noise, and ran hungry hands up the backs of his thighs and squeezing his ass cheeks, driving him deeper into my mouth. It wasn't like I wasn't already used to the size of him. But...the sound he made then? Was almost enough to bring me off on it's own. And the feel of him so far back in my throat was like a drug. I made a swallowing motion around his head, and listened to the escalating moans that made their way from his lips, which eventually formed into words. “Glen...baby, I'm about to...” he paused for a second, as though speaking the words had driven him breathless, and leaned his head back against the wall, finishing with an, “OH, GOD!” and exploding into my mouth like an overfilled water balloon.
I swallowed every last bit of it down, sucking him dry of every last bit that he had to offer, before slowly pulling my head back and glancing up at him as he leaned, absolutely dead weight, against the wall. I pulled myself from my knees and looked into his eyes, the ecstatic look there being exactly what I needed to see. “I love you, baby...” I spoke in a rasp.
“I love you too...” he looked at me with a hazy look in his eyes, though there was a latent predatory look that made my cock twitch even more than it already was. And I was about to ask what it was about when I felt him push me with all his might, tumbling me down to the bed and crawling over me, tearing at my shirt like a Tasmanian devil. I moaned already, though he hadn't even started yet, and he looked at me with a pleased look in his eye. “Good. I'm glad you're ready for this...” he chuckled a bit and tossed my shirt to the floor, making quick work of getting both of us out of our clothes, and to the nudity that we'd actually become accustomed to around each other. Once again, I prepared to open my mouth to ask a question, but he stifled me with a kiss, and I noticed a slight cringe, probably at the taste of his own seed on my lips.
But after this, he made his way down my neck, kissing along my shoulders and chest, pausing to lavish each nipple with a bit of attention. I loved the way his tongue worked it's way along the tender skin of my nipples, too. No one else had been able to do that, but...God knows he could. It sent little trails of fire through the nerves and thus, through the rest of my body, making my already throbbing cock yearn for him even more. “P-please don't tease me...” I whispered, trying as hard as I could not to thrust my hips upward and show him how desperately I needed him. But, I failed. And I watched as he grinned a little. “Wh-what?” I asked breathlessly, watching as the grin on his face grew. “Don't t-tease me, Marc...”
He smiled and continued his journey down, and I felt a wave of ecstasy as he started taking me in, and then did as only Marc could do to me. Running his tongue along my shaft, with his hands massaging my balls and gently pressing against my entrance. I have to admit, I hadn't expected this, but as one finger slid in, curling and brushing lightly against my prostate, I clung to the sheets like no tomorrow, as all the breath was stolen from my body. I tried to speak, to moan-anything, but nothing was there. This was...unlike anything I had ever felt before. And I didn't know how much of it I could take. I tried to warn him that I was about to be driven over the edge, but it came out as more of a silent scream. But he caught on. And increased the speed of his affections to my cock, at the same time, drawing back and brushing my prostate again. And I couldn't take anymore. I exploded into his mouth, throwing my head back against the mattress and crying out with whatever I had left in me.
I was out of it for what felt like forever, focusing on the mind-blowing orgasm my lover had just given me, but when I finally came to, I noticed that he'd scooted up to eye-level with me, and we were both underneath the blankets, with him laying against my shoulder, idly drawing circles on my chest. “So, the plan is...” I finally spoke, in a raspy tone that hardly sounded like my own voice, drawing Marc's attention to me. “I score two goals a game from here on out in the season, and we do this every night. Okay?”
Marc laughed and nodded his head, leaning against my shoulder. “I definitely don't have a problem with that,” he spoke in that post-sex rasp that I loved.
I reminded myself that this was okay; feeling this at ease, and just let myself fall into the moment, smiling and chuckling lightly along with Marc, running a hand through his hair. I reminded myself that this was how it was supposed to be. He and I, together, no nervousness about lack of production...just...being there. And it was an amazing feeling.
Maybe things didn't always have to be so bad.
There's nothing we can do about
The things we have to do without
The only way to feel again
Is let love in
lyrics by the Goo Goo Dolls