BITTER FOR SWEET
Title: Bitter For Sweet
Authors: geekintehpink
Fandom: NHL > Boston Bruins
Characters: Glen Murray/Marc Savard
Word Count: 1,747
Rating: NC17
Can you tell me what stopped the rain?
Where is salvation? Science, saviors, tragedy?
May I lead the way into temptation?
Sirens screaming just for me and the void remains.
Would you save my life if you knew why this is the last time?
I'm leaving without you in silence.
Could you save my life had the boy that you knew not died?
This is the last time.
I'm leaving with out you in silence.
All throughout our showers post-game, all through the ride to his apartment building...all through the walk up to his apartment, I'd been promised that he would make the 'amazing game we had worth my while.' And yeah, I was looking forward to it. So, as I felt my back hit the bed, and the bed beneath me shift, I couldn't help but grin wryly as the face of the man I love appeared above me. God, there was something about that predatory look in his eye that gave me the chills, but...they were the type of chills that I wanted to keep. I put my hands on his chest and brushed along the smooth skin, grinning at the fact that his shirt was already off, and he seemed more than ready to go. I ran my hands along his back and looked into his eyes. “I swear to god, Marc, every time I think there's no way we could be more perfect for each other, we have a game like that...” I whispered.
He smiled a little as he made quick work of the buttons on my shirt. “I know what you mean,” he whispered, knowing that the sound of his voice in bedroom tones was enough to make me plead for him. “It's like we don't even need to talk to each other out there...we just...know where the other is supposed to be and we use that to our advantage...” he grinned proudly as he opened my shirt and pulled it out of the way. “I love that sometimes we don't even need to talk...it's just there...” he spoke softly, nipping at my neck gently. That was another thing we were good at silently communicating. Things we liked. And Marc knew every single thing to do to drive me out of my mind.
I swallowed a bit, trying to regain my breath, find where it had caught itself in my throat, but right when I thought I had it, Marc nipped at my neck again and took it right back away. “My fucking word, Marc, I love you so much...” I whispered to him, putting my fingers on his chin and steering him back up to kiss my lips again, grinning when he obliged and ran his hand along my cheek. It was crazy. After Joe, I vowed never to feel love again, let alone express it as freely as I did with Marc. But here I was, in love and happy, and I felt, for once, that what we had was unable to be tarnished. “Marc...Marc, wait...” I put my hand on his and stopped him, a small grin still on my face.
Marc looked at me, his eyebrow raised in confusion, as I don't think I had ever stopped him in the middle of-or, actually, it wasn't even the middle, more like at the beginning of-love making before. But there were a couple of things that I just...needed to know. They'd been bugging me since we got back together, and I had really just thought to ask him right then. He was looking at me expectantly, his eyes flashing with a mix of concern and passion in his eyes, but he was silent, waiting for me to speak up. “I know...this is a really, really stupid question, and it'll seem like I'm fishing for compliments and attention, but I need to know...” I smoothed his hair back and watched as even more concern befell those beautiful blue eyes. “...even with all I've been through. Like, with all that you've seen...how can you...how can you love me? I mean, everyone else thinks I'm damaged goods, and I expected no one else to love me after-”
Marc raised a finger and put it to my lips, shaking his head 'no.' “You're not damaged goods, Glen. The thing is? I see past it all. I see that...God, even though people have treated you like you're even lower than an amoeba? Even though you've hardly been given the love you deserve? You're still...God, you're an amazing man, Glen. You're...you're beautiful in every way a man can be. You know that...or, you should. You're kind and you're sensitive and generous...you're caring and you don't expect things in return when you give people things...” he paused, cupping my cheek in his hand and turning my head toward him. “I love that your eyes can always tell me what you're feeling, no matter what you say...” he took another short pause. “You know what's funny? Or...maybe not funny, but...it's something interesting that...I don't know how you'll react to it, really...”
I raised an eyebrow and waited for him to continue, watching as he shifted on the bed, to lay on his side and continue speaking. “You were always telling people that, like, the trouble on the ice was because of one of those 'mind-fuck, someone is in your head' type deals. Well, this is when it gets weird, because...” he bit his lip. “I knew, without you saying anything, that the someone was you. I knew that, like...you had to work through whatever it was that was bringing you down...that had been bringing you down since Joe left, and you would be back to you...” he paused, turning even redder and probably waiting for me to get mad. “I don't know what it was that finally got you through it? But...whatever it was, or whoever? I owe them a beer. Because now you're you again, and you're going to stay with me, and we'll grow old together...”
The thing is, most of the time, when people tried to get inside my head, I'd be furious, because no one ever got what I was thinking. They all claimed to, but no one understood. But with Marc, it was like he knew me inside and out. He could read my mannerisms like he was a psychic, and I fucking loved that I didn't always have to tell him every little thing. That he just knew. So, no, I wasn't mad, or freaked out, or anything. I was actually grateful. “Wow...” was all I could say, but I was sure that my smile told him that I was just as happy as I had been before. “You know...people trying to...do that...God, people who have known me longer than you have tried. And I've gotten so mad at them. But...God, Marc, you're amazing.”
“But...what I don't understand is...” he stopped mid-sentence and looked at me, as though what he was about to say had been bothering him for ages. “What I don't understand at all, really, is how someone like you...someone so kind and loving and sensitive...someone who deserves to be with their Prince Charming, can end up with someone as arrogant and cocky as me...” he bit his lip and looked away from me. “Someone who always puts themselves first...”
I stopped him by bringing him to me and kissing him, grinning a little bit. “Sure, you're arrogant...” I watched as he grinned a little, too. “And sure, you're a cocky son of a bitch. But, Marc...can you imagine if both of us were pushovers?” I asked, smoothing his hair back again and listening with a smile as that laugh permeated my ears once again. “Our line wouldn't click, because PJ is a pushover, too, and God knows we'd both be traded to Russia or Sweden, and we wouldn't be laying in bed together right now...” I touched my forehead to his. “And you're not selfish. Especially not when it comes to me. You're always thinking of me, Marc...and it makes me grateful to have someone like you in my-”
I was going to say more, but before I could, Marc's lips were covering mine, and his hands were running up and down my chest, as though we'd never done this before. That was another thing I loved. The fact that no matter how many times we'd been together, it always felt like the first time. There was hunger and passion between us, and every time Marc touched me, it felt like I could burst into flame. We both sat up, facing each other, and though our cocks both throbbed for one another, we made it last as best we could, pressing our lips together and taking a second to stare into one another's eyes, before hungrily tearing away the last layers preventing us from seeing each other fully. Seeing him exposed to me like that...God, it made me ache for him even more. But, I waited as long as it took him to prop himself up against the wall on his hands, with two feet separating himself and the cold drywall, before positioning myself behind him and running my hands up his thighs.
I leaned in close to him and watched as he turned his head to look at me as best he could, as I pressed lightly against his entrance, then reached my hands around to grasp at his cock gently, hearing him let out an unsteady breath, and letting out one of my own as I slid slowly, gently into him. And then the motions began. Rocking gently in unison, stroking him off to the tempo and style of my movements, all the while stealing bad-angle kisses and whispering hungry, sensuous nothings into his ear. And in a seemingly all too short few minutes, I heard Marc cry out, and felt the warmth of his release all over my hand, then took care to make sure that I got mine not too far afterward. When I finally felt the star-burst take over my own brain, we both collapsed, haphazardly, to the bed, and simply lay there for an unknown amount of time.
And when I finally caught my breath, I saw Marc peppering kisses against my shoulder. And the simplicity of it all was...beautiful. The fact that I could just lay in someone's arms, no words spoken, and still feel okay, feel the safety and warmth that Marc Savard brought to me, was absolutely beautiful. Something I wouldn't trade for all the money in the world. I leaned against his shoulder and reveled in the silence, neither of us willing to break it, this time. Besides, sometimes words just cluttered everything up.
Can you tell me what stops the pain?
Self medication? Science, saviors, tragedy?
How deep must we cut to reach sensation?
Find it. Bring it back to me where the void remains.
Would you save my life if you knew why this is the last time?
I'm leaving without you in silence.
Could you save my life had the boy that you knew not died?
This is the last time.
I'm leaving with out you in silence.
Walk with me my one and only find with me the end.
Walk with me my one and only; silence.
lyrics by Blaqk Audio
Authors: geekintehpink
Fandom: NHL > Boston Bruins
Characters: Glen Murray/Marc Savard
Word Count: 1,747
Rating: NC17
Can you tell me what stopped the rain?
Where is salvation? Science, saviors, tragedy?
May I lead the way into temptation?
Sirens screaming just for me and the void remains.
Would you save my life if you knew why this is the last time?
I'm leaving without you in silence.
Could you save my life had the boy that you knew not died?
This is the last time.
I'm leaving with out you in silence.
All throughout our showers post-game, all through the ride to his apartment building...all through the walk up to his apartment, I'd been promised that he would make the 'amazing game we had worth my while.' And yeah, I was looking forward to it. So, as I felt my back hit the bed, and the bed beneath me shift, I couldn't help but grin wryly as the face of the man I love appeared above me. God, there was something about that predatory look in his eye that gave me the chills, but...they were the type of chills that I wanted to keep. I put my hands on his chest and brushed along the smooth skin, grinning at the fact that his shirt was already off, and he seemed more than ready to go. I ran my hands along his back and looked into his eyes. “I swear to god, Marc, every time I think there's no way we could be more perfect for each other, we have a game like that...” I whispered.
He smiled a little as he made quick work of the buttons on my shirt. “I know what you mean,” he whispered, knowing that the sound of his voice in bedroom tones was enough to make me plead for him. “It's like we don't even need to talk to each other out there...we just...know where the other is supposed to be and we use that to our advantage...” he grinned proudly as he opened my shirt and pulled it out of the way. “I love that sometimes we don't even need to talk...it's just there...” he spoke softly, nipping at my neck gently. That was another thing we were good at silently communicating. Things we liked. And Marc knew every single thing to do to drive me out of my mind.
I swallowed a bit, trying to regain my breath, find where it had caught itself in my throat, but right when I thought I had it, Marc nipped at my neck again and took it right back away. “My fucking word, Marc, I love you so much...” I whispered to him, putting my fingers on his chin and steering him back up to kiss my lips again, grinning when he obliged and ran his hand along my cheek. It was crazy. After Joe, I vowed never to feel love again, let alone express it as freely as I did with Marc. But here I was, in love and happy, and I felt, for once, that what we had was unable to be tarnished. “Marc...Marc, wait...” I put my hand on his and stopped him, a small grin still on my face.
Marc looked at me, his eyebrow raised in confusion, as I don't think I had ever stopped him in the middle of-or, actually, it wasn't even the middle, more like at the beginning of-love making before. But there were a couple of things that I just...needed to know. They'd been bugging me since we got back together, and I had really just thought to ask him right then. He was looking at me expectantly, his eyes flashing with a mix of concern and passion in his eyes, but he was silent, waiting for me to speak up. “I know...this is a really, really stupid question, and it'll seem like I'm fishing for compliments and attention, but I need to know...” I smoothed his hair back and watched as even more concern befell those beautiful blue eyes. “...even with all I've been through. Like, with all that you've seen...how can you...how can you love me? I mean, everyone else thinks I'm damaged goods, and I expected no one else to love me after-”
Marc raised a finger and put it to my lips, shaking his head 'no.' “You're not damaged goods, Glen. The thing is? I see past it all. I see that...God, even though people have treated you like you're even lower than an amoeba? Even though you've hardly been given the love you deserve? You're still...God, you're an amazing man, Glen. You're...you're beautiful in every way a man can be. You know that...or, you should. You're kind and you're sensitive and generous...you're caring and you don't expect things in return when you give people things...” he paused, cupping my cheek in his hand and turning my head toward him. “I love that your eyes can always tell me what you're feeling, no matter what you say...” he took another short pause. “You know what's funny? Or...maybe not funny, but...it's something interesting that...I don't know how you'll react to it, really...”
I raised an eyebrow and waited for him to continue, watching as he shifted on the bed, to lay on his side and continue speaking. “You were always telling people that, like, the trouble on the ice was because of one of those 'mind-fuck, someone is in your head' type deals. Well, this is when it gets weird, because...” he bit his lip. “I knew, without you saying anything, that the someone was you. I knew that, like...you had to work through whatever it was that was bringing you down...that had been bringing you down since Joe left, and you would be back to you...” he paused, turning even redder and probably waiting for me to get mad. “I don't know what it was that finally got you through it? But...whatever it was, or whoever? I owe them a beer. Because now you're you again, and you're going to stay with me, and we'll grow old together...”
The thing is, most of the time, when people tried to get inside my head, I'd be furious, because no one ever got what I was thinking. They all claimed to, but no one understood. But with Marc, it was like he knew me inside and out. He could read my mannerisms like he was a psychic, and I fucking loved that I didn't always have to tell him every little thing. That he just knew. So, no, I wasn't mad, or freaked out, or anything. I was actually grateful. “Wow...” was all I could say, but I was sure that my smile told him that I was just as happy as I had been before. “You know...people trying to...do that...God, people who have known me longer than you have tried. And I've gotten so mad at them. But...God, Marc, you're amazing.”
“But...what I don't understand is...” he stopped mid-sentence and looked at me, as though what he was about to say had been bothering him for ages. “What I don't understand at all, really, is how someone like you...someone so kind and loving and sensitive...someone who deserves to be with their Prince Charming, can end up with someone as arrogant and cocky as me...” he bit his lip and looked away from me. “Someone who always puts themselves first...”
I stopped him by bringing him to me and kissing him, grinning a little bit. “Sure, you're arrogant...” I watched as he grinned a little, too. “And sure, you're a cocky son of a bitch. But, Marc...can you imagine if both of us were pushovers?” I asked, smoothing his hair back again and listening with a smile as that laugh permeated my ears once again. “Our line wouldn't click, because PJ is a pushover, too, and God knows we'd both be traded to Russia or Sweden, and we wouldn't be laying in bed together right now...” I touched my forehead to his. “And you're not selfish. Especially not when it comes to me. You're always thinking of me, Marc...and it makes me grateful to have someone like you in my-”
I was going to say more, but before I could, Marc's lips were covering mine, and his hands were running up and down my chest, as though we'd never done this before. That was another thing I loved. The fact that no matter how many times we'd been together, it always felt like the first time. There was hunger and passion between us, and every time Marc touched me, it felt like I could burst into flame. We both sat up, facing each other, and though our cocks both throbbed for one another, we made it last as best we could, pressing our lips together and taking a second to stare into one another's eyes, before hungrily tearing away the last layers preventing us from seeing each other fully. Seeing him exposed to me like that...God, it made me ache for him even more. But, I waited as long as it took him to prop himself up against the wall on his hands, with two feet separating himself and the cold drywall, before positioning myself behind him and running my hands up his thighs.
I leaned in close to him and watched as he turned his head to look at me as best he could, as I pressed lightly against his entrance, then reached my hands around to grasp at his cock gently, hearing him let out an unsteady breath, and letting out one of my own as I slid slowly, gently into him. And then the motions began. Rocking gently in unison, stroking him off to the tempo and style of my movements, all the while stealing bad-angle kisses and whispering hungry, sensuous nothings into his ear. And in a seemingly all too short few minutes, I heard Marc cry out, and felt the warmth of his release all over my hand, then took care to make sure that I got mine not too far afterward. When I finally felt the star-burst take over my own brain, we both collapsed, haphazardly, to the bed, and simply lay there for an unknown amount of time.
And when I finally caught my breath, I saw Marc peppering kisses against my shoulder. And the simplicity of it all was...beautiful. The fact that I could just lay in someone's arms, no words spoken, and still feel okay, feel the safety and warmth that Marc Savard brought to me, was absolutely beautiful. Something I wouldn't trade for all the money in the world. I leaned against his shoulder and reveled in the silence, neither of us willing to break it, this time. Besides, sometimes words just cluttered everything up.
Can you tell me what stops the pain?
Self medication? Science, saviors, tragedy?
How deep must we cut to reach sensation?
Find it. Bring it back to me where the void remains.
Would you save my life if you knew why this is the last time?
I'm leaving without you in silence.
Could you save my life had the boy that you knew not died?
This is the last time.
I'm leaving with out you in silence.
Walk with me my one and only find with me the end.
Walk with me my one and only; silence.
lyrics by Blaqk Audio