Miluji tě, Vladimir (2/2)
Title: Miluji tě, Vladimir (Part 2 of 2)
Characters/pairings: Vladimir Sobotka/Marc Savard/David Krejci/Milan Lucic
Rating: NC-17
Time: 2008/09 season
Summary: Drunk and horny, but they never expected this...
Disclaimer: A fictional story, told only for entertainment purposes
"Wait, what did you say?" Marc Savard hit the pause button on the TV remote and James Bond stopped in mid-punch. He turned to stare at David Krejci, who was sprawled on the lounge chair in the corner of the living room, Milan Lucic stretched out on the floor below his feet. Vladimir Sobotka, who had been in the kitchen, suddenly appeared in the doorway, his eyebrows raised.
"I said," Krejci replied, grinning, "that it wasn't just his knee that had Crosby limping around in Montreal. How much did you see of Chara when you weren't at the Bell Centre?"
"I don't believe it!" Savard exclaimed. "Are you serious?"
"Dead serious," David replied, his dancing eyes betraying his words. "Zdeno spent the All-Star weekend fucking the living shit out of Sidney Crosby."
Milan snorted. "Nicely put, Krech."
"I learned from the best, Looch," David replied, kicking his roomate affectionately between the shoulder blades.
"How the worm has turned," Savard said. Sobotka cocked his head, his eyes questioning. "Old expression, Vladdie. It means... how things have changed."
Satisfied, Vladimir nodded and went back into the kitchen. Marc hit play and the movie resumed.
"David, do you still have some slivovice?" Vladimir called.
"Over the sink," David replied. "You can bring me some too. Savvy, Looch?"
They shook their heads; Marc was working his way through a bottle of wine and feeling little pain. Milan emptied his fifth Sam Adams and let out a tremendous belch. Vladdie reappeared with two brimming glasses and tacked across the room to hand one to David.
"Careful!" Krejci said, reaching up. "I don't know if you should be mixing this with wine, Vladimir."
"Done it before," Sobotka said, falling onto the couch beside Savard and squinting at the screen. "I don't understand this movie at all."
"You gotta pay attention," Lucic said. "It would help if you understood poker, Vladdie."
Sobotka made a face and took a drink. "Stupid game."
Savard reached out and mussed his hair; Vladimir moved closer and Marc put an arm around him. For once, it was nice to be able to display some real affection outside the bedroom. Krejci's apartment was a welcome haven. He nuzzled Vladimir's ear and was rewarded by a shoulder hunch and a snicker. "Want a taste?" Vladdie held up his glass. Marc shook his head. "No thanks. That stuff'd probably take my head off. I already think I'm gonna have a hangover. Thank God we have a late practice."
Krejci slithered down out of his chair as the movie drew to a close and draped himself on Lucic's back, biting at his neck. He whispered something in Milan's ear, and the rugged wing laughed and flipped over, catching the slight center in his arms. "You and what army?" he asked, wrapping his legs around Krejci for good measure. He glanced up at Marc and Vladimir on the couch and grinned. "As always, guys, the guest room is yours."
Krejci staggered to his feet and moved uncertainly down the hall toward the bedroom; Savard could hear him unbuckling his belt as he went. "David, wait until you're lying down before you take your pants off!" he heard Lucic cry, then the door slammed shut.
Marc chuckled and pulled Vladimir into his lap. "You want to use the guest room, or go home?" he asked.
"Want you," Vladdie said, his kiss interrupted by a loud hiccup.
"No argument," Marc gave Vladimir a gentle shove and tried to rise to his feet, finally managing with a hand from Vladdie. "Shit, I'm fucked," he said.
"Not yet," Sobotka giggled. He turned and started down the hall, then somehow tripped over his own feet and fell to his left, his shoulder slamming against David's bedroom door. It popped open and he fell face-first through the doorway.
"Vladdie!" Marc cried, not sure whether he should laugh or be alarmed. He hurried to the door and stepped through the frame, then stopped short at the sight of Sobotka on the floor and a naked Krejci slipping off the bed and kneeling next to him, reaching out, concerned.
"Vladimir?" he asked, and then he too froze as Sobotka lifted his head. They stared at each other for a long moment, and Marc could see David's eyes widen. He glanced up at Milan, who was sitting on the bed, apparently hypnotized by the scene.
"Vladimir," David whispered, and reached out to his countryman with both hands, gripping him by the shoulders and pulling him up to a kneeling position. Another frozen moment that seemed to stretch out forever, and then they were kissing, their lips slamming together, hands coming up to tangle in each other's hair, a stark contrast of blond and dark. A moan came from the bed, and Marc wrenched his eyes away from the two Czechs; Milan was kneeling, his hand on his cock, mesmerized.
Finally Sobotka broke the kiss; giving Krejci a small shove, he staggered to his feet and started to back up, shaking his head. "No, David," he whispered, reaching behind himself, his hands frantically searching for Savard. "No... please.... don't...." Marc stepped forward and slid his arms possessively around Vladimir's ribs as David got to his feet and followed, apparently not hearing a word. He stopped, his face inches from Vladimir's, and Marc could see drunken desire in his eyes. David's lips twitched, and then he dropped to his knees and pulled at Vladimir's belt buckle.
"David!" Vladimir cried, but he made no move to stop him, only leaned back against Marc and gripped the veteran center's hips as Krejci yanked his pants down to his ankles and ran his tongue along Vladdie's throbbing shaft. Marc's arms tightened convulsively around Vladimir as he felt his own cock grow rock-hard.
Krejci licked deliberately around Sobotka's testicles, then kissed the inside of his thighs. He moved his tongue to the head of Vladdie's cock, licking delicately at a drop of pre-come, then closed his lips around it. Vladimir shook in Marc's arms, whimpering as David worked his magic, then stiffened and cried out as his shaft disappeared down David's throat. Marc shook in response as he watched, unable to look away, holding onto Vladimir for dear life as David deep-throated him. Krejci's long fingers dug into Sobotka's hips as his young teammate's pelvis bucked and his cries escalated in the throes of orgasm. His knees buckled and Marc started to lose his grip, but suddenly Milan was there, catching Vladimir in his arms and carrying his spent body to the bed.
David remained on his knees in front of Marc, his head down, chest heaving, as Marc watched Milan stretch Vladimir out on David's massive bed and clamber up beside him. Krejci then stood up, and before Savard knew it, the Czech had him in his arms and was pressing his lips against his. Marc opened his mouth reflexively and David shoved his tongue inside, sharing the strong, familiar taste of Vladimir with him. Marc's mind reeled as he felt David's naked body press against his, their cocks grinding together through a layer of clothing. This cannot be happening. It's another one of my crazy dreams. I don't have David Krejci in my arms; he's nothing but a fantasy...
Then, suddenly, Krejci wasn't in his arms anymore; Marc blinked for a moment, confused, before he realized David had dropped to his knees once more and was pulling at his belt, unzipping his jeans... "David, Jesus, you... ahh!" Krejci had wasted no time, taking his shaft in up to the hilt in one quick motion. His hands automatically tangled in David's dark hair and his eyes slammed shut, but not before he saw Milan kissing Vladimir deeply as he disrobed his teammate.
Marc wondered vaugely how the hell David did that before he told himself to just stop thinking, that this wasn't a night for thinking, that thinking was going to get all of them in a hell of a lot of trouble. Murmurs and whimpers coming from the bed finally forced his eyes open and he watched as Lucic ran his tongue along Sobotka's heaving ribs, Vladdie's hands pulling at his hair. His own hands pulled at Krejci's locks, and David slowed his pace deliberately as his roommate reached for the lube on the nightstand and moved down between Vladimir's legs. He ran his large hands down the backs of Sobotka's thighs, deliberately shoved his feet in the air, lined his cock up and pushed, hard.
Vladimir shrieked. Marc flinched. David jerked convulsively, then lifted his head off Marc's cock, licked his swollen lips and looked back over his shoulder, where Lucic was buried deep inside the whimpering Sobotka. Standing abruptly, David went to the bed, climbed on and clamped his lips over Vladimir's. Marc felt an almost dizzying flash of deja vu, but then Krejci picked up the bottle of lube and held it up in invitation, his naked ass filling Marc's vision.
Milan was pumping hard, making the bed shake, as Vladimir clawed at his back with one hand and pulled at David's hair with the other. Marc wasted no time; lubing his cock quickly, he climbed onto the bed and shoved it into David's beckoning opening. Krejci broke the kiss with Sobotka and dropped his head to Vladimir's shoulder, biting hard. Released, Vladimir filled the room with his cries, a loud counterpoint to Milan's heavy breathing as the massive wing slammed into him. Savard set yet another counterpoint, driving Krejci hard; blood started to ooze from Vladimir's shoulder as David's teeth clamped down. Marc wondered if Vladdie even felt it; his eyes were glazed as his back bowed under the power of Milan's thrusts. He didn't know if it was the look in Vladimir's eyes or the muscles of Krejci's ass or the sight of blood that did it, but the orgasm took him by surprise, nearly knocking him off the bed with its power. He cried Vladimir's name as he spurted into David's ass, wondering if Vladdie even heard him. Probably not, as Milan groaned aloud, deeply, like a wounded lion, his hips bucking as he emptied himself, the tremors rattling all of them.
David raised his head, blinking, then kissed Vladimir's wounded shoulder as Marc rolled off his back and landed with a thump on the floor. Milan groaned loudly and sat back, stretching his arms toward the ceiling. "You OK, Vladdie?" he asked, surprisingly softly.
Vladimir nodded and winced, reaching for his shoulder. "Savvy?" he asked.
"Right here," Marc said, climbing back onto the bed as David moved out of his way. "Ouch," he said sympathetically, looking at the teeth marks marring Sobotka's flesh. He then glanced at Krejci and stopped dead as he saw David's throbbing erection staring him in the face. "Krech," Milan said, reaching for his partner, but Vladimir touched his arm. "David," he said, quietly. "Pojd' sem."
Savard and Lucic moved back as Krejci climbed down the bed to Sobotka's side. The young center reached up and put his hands behind David's neck, pulling him close. "Miluj mě," he whispered.
"Vladimir," David whispered back, moving between his countryman's legs, kissing his chest. "Vždycky tě budu milovat." He ran his lips down Vladdie's body, kissed his hips, his thighs, all the way down to his toes. Sobotka opened his legs wide, then wrapped them around Krejci's waist, lifting his hips, and closed his eyes. "Prosím, David. Prosim."
Krejci slipped inside in a single thrust, his pelvis locking into Sobotka's like a key sliding into an old, familiar lock. They moaned in concert, then moved together, panting, murmuring in Czech, their lips on each other's bodies, every nerve ending ablaze. Vladimir's legs thrashed, David's hips thrust, their chests heaved, neck tendons bulged. Vladimir's cock grew rock-hard again as David moved inside him, and his nails scored gashes across his teammate's back. Marc and Milan watched, unable to tear their eyes away, as their own cocks swelled and their eyes dialated and their breathing grew ragged. And by the time David cried out in orgasm, Milan was on top of Marc, shoving his massive, swollen cock in hard, and Marc's head was spinning with the sheer insanity of it all as he told himself he'd wake up soon and find it all a dream.
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Marc woke up, his head singing a high, discordant chord as he tried to open his eyes. They seemed to be glued shut. He ran a shaky hand over his face and finally pried one eye open, wondering where the hell he was.
David Krejci was lying next to him in the semidarkness, eyes closed, breathing evenly, with what had to be Milan Lucic's large arm snuggled around him possessively. Savard tried to move and halted when every muscle in his body screamed in protest. So it wasn't a dream. Jesus God. He managed to turn his head around, and found the rest of the massive bed empty. "Vladdie?" he whispered hoarsely, but there was no answer.
Oh, Vladdie. Please tell me you're still here. He slithered out of bed and staggered to the bathroom, then crept quietly into the hall, closing the door behind him, and went to the guest bedroom. He found Vladimir in bed, curled up into a tight ball, shivering in distress.
"Vladdie," Marc whispered, trying to put his arms around him. "What's wrong?"
"What's wrong?" Vladimir was on the verge of tears. "Marc, I'm so sorry, all my fault, it's all my fault, please don't hate me, please, please, I'm so sorry..."
"Shush," Savard said, in the sternest tone he could muster, afraid Vladimir was about to go into hysterics. "Shush, Vladdie."
Vladimir shushed, sniffling in an attempt to hold back the tears. Marc lay back, staring at the ceiling. wondering how in hell he could comfort Vladimir besides telling him the obvious truths. By the time they'd all fallen into a sodden sleep, he'd lost track of who had fucked who, and how many times. He'd never experienced an orgy before -- Orgy? Was that what this was? An actual orgy? -- and certainly never one with three fuckin' 21-year-olds. Never again. Jesus.
He started to tell Vladdie that it was nobody's fault, and everybody's, and they'd been drunk and horny and crazy and they all wanted each other and they couldn't help it when he stopped short, realizing what had just happened. He'd woken up next to David Krejci, the hidden object of his desire for months, and had seen... a young teammate. Nothing more, and nothing less.
He turned over and looked at Vladimir. Vladdie looked back, his blue eyes brimming with unshed tears, his angelic face filled with anxiety. And Marc felt... love. Unadulterated, unconditional love.
How to comfort him? Marc was stumped. How can I explain this? How empty and inadequate words are, when it comes to sharing the secrets of the heart. How can I make him understand, let him know he is my world, go beyond the roteness of "Miluji tě"?
You can stop hiding, that's what. Once and for all, stop playing it safe behind a foreign language. Grow up, own up and face the truth. Or the truth is, you'll lose him.
"Vladimir," he said, cupping the young Czech's chin in his hand, looking into his eyes. "I love you. Do you understand?"
Sobotka's eyes, if possible, grew even wider; a couple of stray tears leaked out. He reached out and touched Savard's face. "Home," he whispered. "Family. Love. Sex. Everything, I understand, yes. You love me."
"Don't forget hockey," Marc said, pulling Vladdie into his arms, smiling as he pressed his lips against the youngster's forehead.
"Hockey, yes," Vladdie said. "Never forget. I love you, Marc."
"I love you, Vladimir."
Characters/pairings: Vladimir Sobotka/Marc Savard/David Krejci/Milan Lucic
Rating: NC-17
Time: 2008/09 season
Summary: Drunk and horny, but they never expected this...
Disclaimer: A fictional story, told only for entertainment purposes
"Wait, what did you say?" Marc Savard hit the pause button on the TV remote and James Bond stopped in mid-punch. He turned to stare at David Krejci, who was sprawled on the lounge chair in the corner of the living room, Milan Lucic stretched out on the floor below his feet. Vladimir Sobotka, who had been in the kitchen, suddenly appeared in the doorway, his eyebrows raised.
"I said," Krejci replied, grinning, "that it wasn't just his knee that had Crosby limping around in Montreal. How much did you see of Chara when you weren't at the Bell Centre?"
"I don't believe it!" Savard exclaimed. "Are you serious?"
"Dead serious," David replied, his dancing eyes betraying his words. "Zdeno spent the All-Star weekend fucking the living shit out of Sidney Crosby."
Milan snorted. "Nicely put, Krech."
"I learned from the best, Looch," David replied, kicking his roomate affectionately between the shoulder blades.
"How the worm has turned," Savard said. Sobotka cocked his head, his eyes questioning. "Old expression, Vladdie. It means... how things have changed."
Satisfied, Vladimir nodded and went back into the kitchen. Marc hit play and the movie resumed.
"David, do you still have some slivovice?" Vladimir called.
"Over the sink," David replied. "You can bring me some too. Savvy, Looch?"
They shook their heads; Marc was working his way through a bottle of wine and feeling little pain. Milan emptied his fifth Sam Adams and let out a tremendous belch. Vladdie reappeared with two brimming glasses and tacked across the room to hand one to David.
"Careful!" Krejci said, reaching up. "I don't know if you should be mixing this with wine, Vladimir."
"Done it before," Sobotka said, falling onto the couch beside Savard and squinting at the screen. "I don't understand this movie at all."
"You gotta pay attention," Lucic said. "It would help if you understood poker, Vladdie."
Sobotka made a face and took a drink. "Stupid game."
Savard reached out and mussed his hair; Vladimir moved closer and Marc put an arm around him. For once, it was nice to be able to display some real affection outside the bedroom. Krejci's apartment was a welcome haven. He nuzzled Vladimir's ear and was rewarded by a shoulder hunch and a snicker. "Want a taste?" Vladdie held up his glass. Marc shook his head. "No thanks. That stuff'd probably take my head off. I already think I'm gonna have a hangover. Thank God we have a late practice."
Krejci slithered down out of his chair as the movie drew to a close and draped himself on Lucic's back, biting at his neck. He whispered something in Milan's ear, and the rugged wing laughed and flipped over, catching the slight center in his arms. "You and what army?" he asked, wrapping his legs around Krejci for good measure. He glanced up at Marc and Vladimir on the couch and grinned. "As always, guys, the guest room is yours."
Krejci staggered to his feet and moved uncertainly down the hall toward the bedroom; Savard could hear him unbuckling his belt as he went. "David, wait until you're lying down before you take your pants off!" he heard Lucic cry, then the door slammed shut.
Marc chuckled and pulled Vladimir into his lap. "You want to use the guest room, or go home?" he asked.
"Want you," Vladdie said, his kiss interrupted by a loud hiccup.
"No argument," Marc gave Vladimir a gentle shove and tried to rise to his feet, finally managing with a hand from Vladdie. "Shit, I'm fucked," he said.
"Not yet," Sobotka giggled. He turned and started down the hall, then somehow tripped over his own feet and fell to his left, his shoulder slamming against David's bedroom door. It popped open and he fell face-first through the doorway.
"Vladdie!" Marc cried, not sure whether he should laugh or be alarmed. He hurried to the door and stepped through the frame, then stopped short at the sight of Sobotka on the floor and a naked Krejci slipping off the bed and kneeling next to him, reaching out, concerned.
"Vladimir?" he asked, and then he too froze as Sobotka lifted his head. They stared at each other for a long moment, and Marc could see David's eyes widen. He glanced up at Milan, who was sitting on the bed, apparently hypnotized by the scene.
"Vladimir," David whispered, and reached out to his countryman with both hands, gripping him by the shoulders and pulling him up to a kneeling position. Another frozen moment that seemed to stretch out forever, and then they were kissing, their lips slamming together, hands coming up to tangle in each other's hair, a stark contrast of blond and dark. A moan came from the bed, and Marc wrenched his eyes away from the two Czechs; Milan was kneeling, his hand on his cock, mesmerized.
Finally Sobotka broke the kiss; giving Krejci a small shove, he staggered to his feet and started to back up, shaking his head. "No, David," he whispered, reaching behind himself, his hands frantically searching for Savard. "No... please.... don't...." Marc stepped forward and slid his arms possessively around Vladimir's ribs as David got to his feet and followed, apparently not hearing a word. He stopped, his face inches from Vladimir's, and Marc could see drunken desire in his eyes. David's lips twitched, and then he dropped to his knees and pulled at Vladimir's belt buckle.
"David!" Vladimir cried, but he made no move to stop him, only leaned back against Marc and gripped the veteran center's hips as Krejci yanked his pants down to his ankles and ran his tongue along Vladdie's throbbing shaft. Marc's arms tightened convulsively around Vladimir as he felt his own cock grow rock-hard.
Krejci licked deliberately around Sobotka's testicles, then kissed the inside of his thighs. He moved his tongue to the head of Vladdie's cock, licking delicately at a drop of pre-come, then closed his lips around it. Vladimir shook in Marc's arms, whimpering as David worked his magic, then stiffened and cried out as his shaft disappeared down David's throat. Marc shook in response as he watched, unable to look away, holding onto Vladimir for dear life as David deep-throated him. Krejci's long fingers dug into Sobotka's hips as his young teammate's pelvis bucked and his cries escalated in the throes of orgasm. His knees buckled and Marc started to lose his grip, but suddenly Milan was there, catching Vladimir in his arms and carrying his spent body to the bed.
David remained on his knees in front of Marc, his head down, chest heaving, as Marc watched Milan stretch Vladimir out on David's massive bed and clamber up beside him. Krejci then stood up, and before Savard knew it, the Czech had him in his arms and was pressing his lips against his. Marc opened his mouth reflexively and David shoved his tongue inside, sharing the strong, familiar taste of Vladimir with him. Marc's mind reeled as he felt David's naked body press against his, their cocks grinding together through a layer of clothing. This cannot be happening. It's another one of my crazy dreams. I don't have David Krejci in my arms; he's nothing but a fantasy...
Then, suddenly, Krejci wasn't in his arms anymore; Marc blinked for a moment, confused, before he realized David had dropped to his knees once more and was pulling at his belt, unzipping his jeans... "David, Jesus, you... ahh!" Krejci had wasted no time, taking his shaft in up to the hilt in one quick motion. His hands automatically tangled in David's dark hair and his eyes slammed shut, but not before he saw Milan kissing Vladimir deeply as he disrobed his teammate.
Marc wondered vaugely how the hell David did that before he told himself to just stop thinking, that this wasn't a night for thinking, that thinking was going to get all of them in a hell of a lot of trouble. Murmurs and whimpers coming from the bed finally forced his eyes open and he watched as Lucic ran his tongue along Sobotka's heaving ribs, Vladdie's hands pulling at his hair. His own hands pulled at Krejci's locks, and David slowed his pace deliberately as his roommate reached for the lube on the nightstand and moved down between Vladimir's legs. He ran his large hands down the backs of Sobotka's thighs, deliberately shoved his feet in the air, lined his cock up and pushed, hard.
Vladimir shrieked. Marc flinched. David jerked convulsively, then lifted his head off Marc's cock, licked his swollen lips and looked back over his shoulder, where Lucic was buried deep inside the whimpering Sobotka. Standing abruptly, David went to the bed, climbed on and clamped his lips over Vladimir's. Marc felt an almost dizzying flash of deja vu, but then Krejci picked up the bottle of lube and held it up in invitation, his naked ass filling Marc's vision.
Milan was pumping hard, making the bed shake, as Vladimir clawed at his back with one hand and pulled at David's hair with the other. Marc wasted no time; lubing his cock quickly, he climbed onto the bed and shoved it into David's beckoning opening. Krejci broke the kiss with Sobotka and dropped his head to Vladimir's shoulder, biting hard. Released, Vladimir filled the room with his cries, a loud counterpoint to Milan's heavy breathing as the massive wing slammed into him. Savard set yet another counterpoint, driving Krejci hard; blood started to ooze from Vladimir's shoulder as David's teeth clamped down. Marc wondered if Vladdie even felt it; his eyes were glazed as his back bowed under the power of Milan's thrusts. He didn't know if it was the look in Vladimir's eyes or the muscles of Krejci's ass or the sight of blood that did it, but the orgasm took him by surprise, nearly knocking him off the bed with its power. He cried Vladimir's name as he spurted into David's ass, wondering if Vladdie even heard him. Probably not, as Milan groaned aloud, deeply, like a wounded lion, his hips bucking as he emptied himself, the tremors rattling all of them.
David raised his head, blinking, then kissed Vladimir's wounded shoulder as Marc rolled off his back and landed with a thump on the floor. Milan groaned loudly and sat back, stretching his arms toward the ceiling. "You OK, Vladdie?" he asked, surprisingly softly.
Vladimir nodded and winced, reaching for his shoulder. "Savvy?" he asked.
"Right here," Marc said, climbing back onto the bed as David moved out of his way. "Ouch," he said sympathetically, looking at the teeth marks marring Sobotka's flesh. He then glanced at Krejci and stopped dead as he saw David's throbbing erection staring him in the face. "Krech," Milan said, reaching for his partner, but Vladimir touched his arm. "David," he said, quietly. "Pojd' sem."
Savard and Lucic moved back as Krejci climbed down the bed to Sobotka's side. The young center reached up and put his hands behind David's neck, pulling him close. "Miluj mě," he whispered.
"Vladimir," David whispered back, moving between his countryman's legs, kissing his chest. "Vždycky tě budu milovat." He ran his lips down Vladdie's body, kissed his hips, his thighs, all the way down to his toes. Sobotka opened his legs wide, then wrapped them around Krejci's waist, lifting his hips, and closed his eyes. "Prosím, David. Prosim."
Krejci slipped inside in a single thrust, his pelvis locking into Sobotka's like a key sliding into an old, familiar lock. They moaned in concert, then moved together, panting, murmuring in Czech, their lips on each other's bodies, every nerve ending ablaze. Vladimir's legs thrashed, David's hips thrust, their chests heaved, neck tendons bulged. Vladimir's cock grew rock-hard again as David moved inside him, and his nails scored gashes across his teammate's back. Marc and Milan watched, unable to tear their eyes away, as their own cocks swelled and their eyes dialated and their breathing grew ragged. And by the time David cried out in orgasm, Milan was on top of Marc, shoving his massive, swollen cock in hard, and Marc's head was spinning with the sheer insanity of it all as he told himself he'd wake up soon and find it all a dream.
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Marc woke up, his head singing a high, discordant chord as he tried to open his eyes. They seemed to be glued shut. He ran a shaky hand over his face and finally pried one eye open, wondering where the hell he was.
David Krejci was lying next to him in the semidarkness, eyes closed, breathing evenly, with what had to be Milan Lucic's large arm snuggled around him possessively. Savard tried to move and halted when every muscle in his body screamed in protest. So it wasn't a dream. Jesus God. He managed to turn his head around, and found the rest of the massive bed empty. "Vladdie?" he whispered hoarsely, but there was no answer.
Oh, Vladdie. Please tell me you're still here. He slithered out of bed and staggered to the bathroom, then crept quietly into the hall, closing the door behind him, and went to the guest bedroom. He found Vladimir in bed, curled up into a tight ball, shivering in distress.
"Vladdie," Marc whispered, trying to put his arms around him. "What's wrong?"
"What's wrong?" Vladimir was on the verge of tears. "Marc, I'm so sorry, all my fault, it's all my fault, please don't hate me, please, please, I'm so sorry..."
"Shush," Savard said, in the sternest tone he could muster, afraid Vladimir was about to go into hysterics. "Shush, Vladdie."
Vladimir shushed, sniffling in an attempt to hold back the tears. Marc lay back, staring at the ceiling. wondering how in hell he could comfort Vladimir besides telling him the obvious truths. By the time they'd all fallen into a sodden sleep, he'd lost track of who had fucked who, and how many times. He'd never experienced an orgy before -- Orgy? Was that what this was? An actual orgy? -- and certainly never one with three fuckin' 21-year-olds. Never again. Jesus.
He started to tell Vladdie that it was nobody's fault, and everybody's, and they'd been drunk and horny and crazy and they all wanted each other and they couldn't help it when he stopped short, realizing what had just happened. He'd woken up next to David Krejci, the hidden object of his desire for months, and had seen... a young teammate. Nothing more, and nothing less.
He turned over and looked at Vladimir. Vladdie looked back, his blue eyes brimming with unshed tears, his angelic face filled with anxiety. And Marc felt... love. Unadulterated, unconditional love.
How to comfort him? Marc was stumped. How can I explain this? How empty and inadequate words are, when it comes to sharing the secrets of the heart. How can I make him understand, let him know he is my world, go beyond the roteness of "Miluji tě"?
You can stop hiding, that's what. Once and for all, stop playing it safe behind a foreign language. Grow up, own up and face the truth. Or the truth is, you'll lose him.
"Vladimir," he said, cupping the young Czech's chin in his hand, looking into his eyes. "I love you. Do you understand?"
Sobotka's eyes, if possible, grew even wider; a couple of stray tears leaked out. He reached out and touched Savard's face. "Home," he whispered. "Family. Love. Sex. Everything, I understand, yes. You love me."
"Don't forget hockey," Marc said, pulling Vladdie into his arms, smiling as he pressed his lips against the youngster's forehead.
"Hockey, yes," Vladdie said. "Never forget. I love you, Marc."
"I love you, Vladimir."