Flyers Fic
Title: "Bitter Cold"
By: exigencyexit
Fandom: NHL
Team(s): Philadelphia Flyers
Pairing(s): Mike Richards/Joffrey Lupul
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: This story is fiction and not intended to harm or offend anyone. Used for entertainment purposes only.
Warnings: Smut. A little language. Total comfort!fic, btw, so it might be a little sappy. Maybe a little PWP.
Summary: Mike helps Joff with the pain.
Credit: There's just a need for some Richie/Joff comfort sex, that's all.
Author's Notes: I don't know. It is what it is, I hope you like it. ENJOY! *Edited a little by me.
While maybe Scottie Upshall was playing in Phoenix, enjoying the hot weather, a cold beer or two as well, Joffrey Lupul was covered under a cold blanket as he cursed the wrecked heater in his apartment. Two days and counting, he thought, and he wrapped the blanket tighter around his frigid body. It was a couple days after that first day of spring, and while the weather hadn't warmed up yet, Joff didn't think things would get that ridiculous. Reaching just about thirty-five degrees outside, with a breeze to make it worse, and he had a broken heater.
Joff wasn't having a good week. Hell, he wasn't having a good month.
The cell phone that sat on the nightstand was turned off and all lights were out. The blinds were closed, with only a little bit of light creeping through. Joff was supposed to be having his afternoon nap, that one he always had before a game. There wasn't a practice earlier, just a quick team meeting. He refused any invitations to grab some lunch, and instead stopped to pick up a salad to eat at home. The salad sat in the fridge, untouched.
He wasn't being miserable. In fact, Joff considered himself to be in a good mood as of recently, despite everything that had happened. Just earlier that morning, Joff talked to Scottie for a good hour, texted him right before the meeting, and then listened to a voice mail message before shutting the phone off. The battery was almost dead, his excuse, but Joff needed the piece and quiet and he would never admit to his best friends he didn't want to talk to them.
Joff pulled the blankets as he turned to face the other side of the room. He sighed, frustrated, and kicked at whatever was touching his foot. Wait, what?! Joff sat up abruptly and reached for a light. He clicked the lamp on, and once the light flowed into the room he saw what, or who, it was.
"Richie," Joff breathed.
"Hey."
Mike Richards climbed on to the bed, shoes and jeans already off. He pulled at Joff's blanket, pulled it back enough so he could get under it as well. "It's freezing in here," he said, and soon Mike was lying in Joff's bed next to him.
Joff relaxed and laid back down, facing Mike, just staring at him. Mike was staring back at him too, and taking notes. The captain had been keeping a close eye on his friend since Scottie's trade. There were a couple nights spent at his house, the bed shared with him and Jeff. Many dinners were spent eating out to keep away the lingering thought of only Scottie's shadow sitting back in Joff's apartment in his seat at the dining room table. Mike still roomed with Joff on the road, but ever since Scottie left the captain noticed Joff had a loss of an appetite for sex.
"You okay?" Mike's words were soft, barely spoken, as he looked over his friend. The heavy eyelids, day old stubble, dry lips. Joff was still riding the affect of Scottie leaving and Mike wasn't sure how much longer this would last. Joff even looked a little pale and maybe five pounds thinner. While his hockey playing wasn't being affected, his personal being was and Mike was worried.
"I'm fine, just..."
Mike reached out and placed a hand on the side of Joff's face. His face was warm, no fever, but at least the blood was still pumping in his body. The captain inched closer to Joff, hand sliding to the back of his neck, and soon Mike had his lips pressed against Joff's. At first, there was no reaction. Joff stayed still. Joff stayed quiet. But then, as Mike pushed with his tongue, prodded those pouty lips, Joff opened up and was kissing his captain back.
It lasted a couple of minutes. Joff's hands finding Mike's body, wrapping an arm around his waist to pull their bodies against each other. Mike's hand, the one on Joff's neck, found its way to the small of his back and underneath his t-shirt. There it was cold, no longer warn skin, but the blood was still pumping through him because soon Mike could feel Joff's half erect cock straining through his cotton pants.
"Just cold," Joff finished, the kiss breaking. They looked at each other. While through metaphors and sayings, it was heating up in the room, underneath the blanket Mike knew it was dead and frozen. He could see it in Joff's eyes, the loneliness, the sadness, and while it may be a hundred degrees in Phoenix, Mike was pretty sure Scottie was feeling the same bitter coldness. He could only help one, though.
"I'm so sorry, Joff." It wasn't about being a team leader but about being a best friend. "I'm here for you." Mike was holding Joff now, his head against his chest, but there were no tears that time. No tears from either one of them and Mike was sure that meant something.
Joff brought his head up, looked at his friend, and within the small light of the room he found Mike's lips. They started kissing again, hands fumbling over each other. Mike's landed at Joff's waist, pulling at his pants and slipping one hand inside. He brushed over Joff's erection, listening to the sweet moan that came deep from his throat. He swallowed that moan, gave one of his own, and soon Mike was stroking Joff till he was fully erect.
Their mouths broke apart, Joff turning to grab the lube from the nightstand. Mike came up behind him, pressed his erection against his ass, and things were decided on how it was going to happen. Joff was a natural bottom with Scottie, always, and sometimes it was just like that with Mike too.
Mike kissed his neck, little teasing nips and sucking behind his ear, a spot Scottie had showed him. His hand was still stroking Joff, still making him moan. Joff twisted his head, searching for a kiss and finding it, not noticing the lost contact when Mike's hand left. Instead he could feel his pants slipping off his hips, and then a lubed finger prodding at his ass. Their kiss broke, his head fell forward, and Joff pushed his ass against the finger. Two entered him, stretching him, and he moaned about as loud as he could.
"Does that feel good?" Mike was pushing three fingers in now, crooking them, brushing over spots that sent shivers through Joff's body. Joff pushed his ass back more, breathing hitched, almost ready to come without even being touched.
"Please, Richie..." Joff begged. He twisted his head again, looking up at Mike, catching his lips while he sneaked a hand between their bodies. Joff slipped his hand in Mike's pants, like the captain had done to him, and stroked his cock. He pulled it free from his boxers and positioned it against his ass. Joff needed Mike, he needed him now.
They were still kissing as Mike applied some lube to his own cock before slowly pushing it into Joff. The winger stopped, stopped his moving, stopped his kissing. Lying on their sides, back to chest, Mike slowly moved in and out of Joff. Mike had a hand on Joff's right hip, fingers gripping as he thrust into him. The bed creeked slightly, moving with them, and soon Joff could feel the heat and it was no longer cold in his bedroom.
"Fuck Joff, you're so tight..." Mike moved, increased his speed a little, thrusting in and out, in and out. He placed open-mouth kisses to Joff's neck down to his back, hand slipping from his hip to his cock. He brushed a thumb over the tip, teasing him, before fully grasping him, soon pumping him and matching his own rhythm. Mike moaned, head tugged down into a kiss as Joff had reached back to tangle his fingers in the captain's hair.
Both were getting the close. The thrusting increased. The kisses got more frantic. Still buried under the blankets, it almost felt like love-making when Mike told Joff how amazing he was. And then that was it, because Joff was over the edge and coming in Mike's hand. Semen spilled over him, onto the bed sheets and blanket. Mike cried out, "Fuck!" and he was coming too. His orgasm ripped through his body, warm seed filling Joff, and then he collapsed.
Once they got their breaths back, and the stars went away, Joff didn't turn. He could feel Mike moving around, hear him messing with the blanket, before reaching over and flicking the lamp off. Heat engulfed him as Mike pulled him close. Joff sighed, pushing back closer to him. When sleep finally caught up with him, catching Mike as well, a shower would have to wait until the alarm when off.
--END
By: exigencyexit
Fandom: NHL
Team(s): Philadelphia Flyers
Pairing(s): Mike Richards/Joffrey Lupul
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: This story is fiction and not intended to harm or offend anyone. Used for entertainment purposes only.
Warnings: Smut. A little language. Total comfort!fic, btw, so it might be a little sappy. Maybe a little PWP.
Summary: Mike helps Joff with the pain.
Credit: There's just a need for some Richie/Joff comfort sex, that's all.
Author's Notes: I don't know. It is what it is, I hope you like it. ENJOY! *Edited a little by me.
While maybe Scottie Upshall was playing in Phoenix, enjoying the hot weather, a cold beer or two as well, Joffrey Lupul was covered under a cold blanket as he cursed the wrecked heater in his apartment. Two days and counting, he thought, and he wrapped the blanket tighter around his frigid body. It was a couple days after that first day of spring, and while the weather hadn't warmed up yet, Joff didn't think things would get that ridiculous. Reaching just about thirty-five degrees outside, with a breeze to make it worse, and he had a broken heater.
Joff wasn't having a good week. Hell, he wasn't having a good month.
The cell phone that sat on the nightstand was turned off and all lights were out. The blinds were closed, with only a little bit of light creeping through. Joff was supposed to be having his afternoon nap, that one he always had before a game. There wasn't a practice earlier, just a quick team meeting. He refused any invitations to grab some lunch, and instead stopped to pick up a salad to eat at home. The salad sat in the fridge, untouched.
He wasn't being miserable. In fact, Joff considered himself to be in a good mood as of recently, despite everything that had happened. Just earlier that morning, Joff talked to Scottie for a good hour, texted him right before the meeting, and then listened to a voice mail message before shutting the phone off. The battery was almost dead, his excuse, but Joff needed the piece and quiet and he would never admit to his best friends he didn't want to talk to them.
Joff pulled the blankets as he turned to face the other side of the room. He sighed, frustrated, and kicked at whatever was touching his foot. Wait, what?! Joff sat up abruptly and reached for a light. He clicked the lamp on, and once the light flowed into the room he saw what, or who, it was.
"Richie," Joff breathed.
"Hey."
Mike Richards climbed on to the bed, shoes and jeans already off. He pulled at Joff's blanket, pulled it back enough so he could get under it as well. "It's freezing in here," he said, and soon Mike was lying in Joff's bed next to him.
Joff relaxed and laid back down, facing Mike, just staring at him. Mike was staring back at him too, and taking notes. The captain had been keeping a close eye on his friend since Scottie's trade. There were a couple nights spent at his house, the bed shared with him and Jeff. Many dinners were spent eating out to keep away the lingering thought of only Scottie's shadow sitting back in Joff's apartment in his seat at the dining room table. Mike still roomed with Joff on the road, but ever since Scottie left the captain noticed Joff had a loss of an appetite for sex.
"You okay?" Mike's words were soft, barely spoken, as he looked over his friend. The heavy eyelids, day old stubble, dry lips. Joff was still riding the affect of Scottie leaving and Mike wasn't sure how much longer this would last. Joff even looked a little pale and maybe five pounds thinner. While his hockey playing wasn't being affected, his personal being was and Mike was worried.
"I'm fine, just..."
Mike reached out and placed a hand on the side of Joff's face. His face was warm, no fever, but at least the blood was still pumping in his body. The captain inched closer to Joff, hand sliding to the back of his neck, and soon Mike had his lips pressed against Joff's. At first, there was no reaction. Joff stayed still. Joff stayed quiet. But then, as Mike pushed with his tongue, prodded those pouty lips, Joff opened up and was kissing his captain back.
It lasted a couple of minutes. Joff's hands finding Mike's body, wrapping an arm around his waist to pull their bodies against each other. Mike's hand, the one on Joff's neck, found its way to the small of his back and underneath his t-shirt. There it was cold, no longer warn skin, but the blood was still pumping through him because soon Mike could feel Joff's half erect cock straining through his cotton pants.
"Just cold," Joff finished, the kiss breaking. They looked at each other. While through metaphors and sayings, it was heating up in the room, underneath the blanket Mike knew it was dead and frozen. He could see it in Joff's eyes, the loneliness, the sadness, and while it may be a hundred degrees in Phoenix, Mike was pretty sure Scottie was feeling the same bitter coldness. He could only help one, though.
"I'm so sorry, Joff." It wasn't about being a team leader but about being a best friend. "I'm here for you." Mike was holding Joff now, his head against his chest, but there were no tears that time. No tears from either one of them and Mike was sure that meant something.
Joff brought his head up, looked at his friend, and within the small light of the room he found Mike's lips. They started kissing again, hands fumbling over each other. Mike's landed at Joff's waist, pulling at his pants and slipping one hand inside. He brushed over Joff's erection, listening to the sweet moan that came deep from his throat. He swallowed that moan, gave one of his own, and soon Mike was stroking Joff till he was fully erect.
Their mouths broke apart, Joff turning to grab the lube from the nightstand. Mike came up behind him, pressed his erection against his ass, and things were decided on how it was going to happen. Joff was a natural bottom with Scottie, always, and sometimes it was just like that with Mike too.
Mike kissed his neck, little teasing nips and sucking behind his ear, a spot Scottie had showed him. His hand was still stroking Joff, still making him moan. Joff twisted his head, searching for a kiss and finding it, not noticing the lost contact when Mike's hand left. Instead he could feel his pants slipping off his hips, and then a lubed finger prodding at his ass. Their kiss broke, his head fell forward, and Joff pushed his ass against the finger. Two entered him, stretching him, and he moaned about as loud as he could.
"Does that feel good?" Mike was pushing three fingers in now, crooking them, brushing over spots that sent shivers through Joff's body. Joff pushed his ass back more, breathing hitched, almost ready to come without even being touched.
"Please, Richie..." Joff begged. He twisted his head again, looking up at Mike, catching his lips while he sneaked a hand between their bodies. Joff slipped his hand in Mike's pants, like the captain had done to him, and stroked his cock. He pulled it free from his boxers and positioned it against his ass. Joff needed Mike, he needed him now.
They were still kissing as Mike applied some lube to his own cock before slowly pushing it into Joff. The winger stopped, stopped his moving, stopped his kissing. Lying on their sides, back to chest, Mike slowly moved in and out of Joff. Mike had a hand on Joff's right hip, fingers gripping as he thrust into him. The bed creeked slightly, moving with them, and soon Joff could feel the heat and it was no longer cold in his bedroom.
"Fuck Joff, you're so tight..." Mike moved, increased his speed a little, thrusting in and out, in and out. He placed open-mouth kisses to Joff's neck down to his back, hand slipping from his hip to his cock. He brushed a thumb over the tip, teasing him, before fully grasping him, soon pumping him and matching his own rhythm. Mike moaned, head tugged down into a kiss as Joff had reached back to tangle his fingers in the captain's hair.
Both were getting the close. The thrusting increased. The kisses got more frantic. Still buried under the blankets, it almost felt like love-making when Mike told Joff how amazing he was. And then that was it, because Joff was over the edge and coming in Mike's hand. Semen spilled over him, onto the bed sheets and blanket. Mike cried out, "Fuck!" and he was coming too. His orgasm ripped through his body, warm seed filling Joff, and then he collapsed.
Once they got their breaths back, and the stars went away, Joff didn't turn. He could feel Mike moving around, hear him messing with the blanket, before reaching over and flicking the lamp off. Heat engulfed him as Mike pulled him close. Joff sighed, pushing back closer to him. When sleep finally caught up with him, catching Mike as well, a shower would have to wait until the alarm when off.
--END