*throws hands up in defeat* I just ... argh ... *tears at hair* I don't even know anymore, okay? For
boltschick2612, who is the worst best enabler possible ;)
Second in the
We were Emergencies-verse. It has also been split (again!), for reasons ;)
Disclaimer: So incredibly false. Any resemblance to actual names, places, people, etc., is entirely coincidental. Title and summary comes from the Lana del Rey song, Radio.
My Body's Sweet Like Sugar Venom
Ryan Malone/Vince Lecavalier; NC-17
Pick me up and take me like a vitamin/ 'cause my body's sweet like sugar venom
My Body's Sweet Like Sugar Venom
Vince leaned in closer to glare at his reflection. He was sure if misery was to take human form, it would be him in that exact moment. It had been a little over a month since he had come back from New York, and he was still trying to come to grips with the realization that Brad and him were … well, over.
Being without that one steady constant in his life was an uncomfortable, disconcerting feeling to say the least. It was even more disconcerting thinking about Brad, and Hank's hands touching him.
Vince spent a good chunk of his time since returning from New York thinking about what Brad was doing. He knew Brad was going to be in the Hamptons for a while. For the first week, or so, Vince had stared at his cell phone, fingers hovering over the text message screen, resisting the urge to text him.
I keep thinking about what you're doing.
Vince had deleted the sentence, over and over again, until he finally grew frustrated and slid his phone away.
He heard his phone buzz. Vince picked it up and read through the text illuminating his screen.
Glancing one more time at the mirror, Vince grabbed his keys and headed for his car.
-»«-
If he was honest, Vince was kind of glad Steven had asked him to come over. Even if it was just Steven wanting to run a couple things by him when he went to New York to help with the CBA negotiations.
The distraction was welcome, and Steven was good company, but Vince still felt like he was a million miles away. He was just about ready to leave when his eyes landed on the table near the entrance.
It was an insignificant thing, or rather, picture, but it still niggled at him. Ryan Malone giving the camera an almost Chesire cat-like grin. Vince didn't know what it was about Ryan's smile in that picture, but still … it was enough to make him angrier than he had been over the course of this past month.
Vince gritted his teeth, and smiled at Steven. "Malone still lives here, right?"
"Yeah. Yeah, he still does," Steven said. His tone casual.
Vince resisted the urge to ball his hands into fists as he said his goodbye to Steven and stepped into the warm Tampa sun.
Ever since Ryan had pushed him away on that late afternoon day, Vince had been stewing over what he could only surmise was rejection. Except, he was quite sure he saw a restrained need in Ryan's gaze as he left his place. Then again, he could have just been reading too much into it. After all, that was one of the things Ryan was good at. Keeping his emotions restrained when he needed to. May as well tape a sign proclaiming as much to the back of Ryan's helmet.
Vince barely realized he was storming over towards Ryan's, until he glimpsed the numbers of Ryan's address. Seriously, who the hell did he think he was? Starting something with him, only to get all chicken, and slam on the brakes. Seriously, how dare he.
He may have kissed Ryan first, but Vince knew almost instinctively Ryan kissed him back. However brief it may have been. Still … he had kissed him back! And, he wanted to act like it never happened.
Vince was calling bullshit on that right here and now. He stood outside Ryan's door, where he hesitated for a moment, before his fist came up and was banging on the wood.
He continued banging on the door for at least a full minute, all the while wondering why he chose to pound on Ryan's door with the hand he injured earlier in the season, before he heard the lock click.
"Vince? What the hell?"
Vince ignored Ryan, and shoved his way inside before Ryan could say anything. He had gotten about ten steps inside, before he heard the door click shut. He turned on his heel, the rage clouding his vision as he glared at Ryan. Hard.
"What the hell is wrong with you, Malone?"
Vince watched as Ryan's lips twitched, before a smirk edged its way onto his lips.
Fucker was enjoying this, Vince realized, which only served to anger him further. He balled his hands into fists, and stood rooted to his spot. "You're enjoying this aren't you?"
Ryan blinked, and stood there for a full minute before he realized what Vince was talking about. He watched as Vince's dark eyes surveyed him. Watched as Vince's eyes stopped briefly on his mouth before they became very interested in the floor. Ryan chuckled as he brushed past Vince and headed to the kitchen. He kept his back to Vince as he opened his fridge and pulled out a bottle of water.
"You want water?" Ryan had his head half-turned towards Vince, that infuriating smirk still on his lips.
Vince's fingers were gripping the doorframe so hard, his fingers were numb. Ryan's blasé attitude was really pissing him off. It only served to double his anger.
"No, what I want is for you to tell me what the hell your problem is," Vince said through gritted teeth, as he crossed the floor to Ryan. He had a finger raised, and poked Ryan's chest with it as he stared at him. "Seriously, who the hell do you think you are?"
Ryan smirked. "I'm Ryan Malone. Left winger for the Tampa Bay Lightning. Son of Gregory Malone -"
"Cut the crap." Vince's eyes flashed with anger. He was practically trembling with rage. "You invite me over, let me see you vulnerable for like a minute, and then you just …" Vince whirled and pressed his hands against a nearby chair. "I mean, why did you even bother letting me see that side of you if you were just going to … I mean, for fuck's sake, Malone, am I not worth it?"
"Right," Ryan started, "I forgot. You're always worth everything."
Slowly, Vince turned, eyes narrowed dangerously. "Are you trying to be funny, Malone?"
Ryan let out a short bark of laughter as he headed towards the kitchen's exit. "Never, Captain. I'm always the picture perfect image of sincerity."
Vince reached a hand out and grasped Ryan's wrist. "We're not done, yet, Malone."
Ryan stopped dead in his tracks, his cornflower blue eyes remote and stormy as he reached a hand out, fingers curling around Vince's wrist. "You're in my house, Captain."
"Which means what, exactly?"
Ryan extricated his wrist from Vince's grasp, and ran his finger down Vince's cheek, before he backed Vince up against the doorframe. "You play by my rules, Sunshine." He had the palm of his hand pressed against Vince's shirt front, as he smirked, and raised an eyebrow. His eyes were alight with amusement, as his fingers thumbed the tiny plastic buttons on Vince's shirt.
Vince swore he bit his bottom lip in two as he felt his heartbeat quicken at the warmth Ryan's hand sent through his system. They were the same height, but for some reason, Vince felt like he was shorter than Ryan in that instant.
"Cat got your tongue, Captain?" Ryan dipped his head slightly, his nose nuzzling the side of Vince's neck.
"Why'd you invite me over that day, Malone?" Vince managed to get out.
Ryan laughed, the puffs of air tickling Vince's neck and collarbone. "You already know the answer to that."
The way Ryan was looking at him made him feel like he was watching a jungle cat stalk its prey. He raised his chin slightly, his lips catching on Ryan's chin. "And if I told you I didn't?"
Ryan sighed, his infuriating, toe-curling smirk back on his lips. "You're a bad liar, Captain."
"Humour me, then, Malone."
Ryan stepped away slightly from Vince then. "You kissed me first, Captain," he said in a tone that suggested Vince wasn't actually going to get a direct response.
"You kissed me back!" Vince shouted.
"Maybe in your dreams," Ryan whispered.
"We must have been sharing dream space then," Vince snarled, fisting his hands in Ryan's shirt.
Ryan's lips twitched. "Sure, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night, Vince."
Vince wanted to shake Ryan he was so angry. "Why didn't you just let things happen that day when I was here?"
It was silent for a few minutes, the low hum of Ryan's kitchen appliances the only noise that could be heard. They were nose to nose, sizing each other up. Ryan's eyes flickered dangerously, his mouth set in a thin line.
Eventually, he sighed, and leaned in closer, bracing his hands on either side of Vince's head. His signature smirk was back, Vince realized, after his thoughts cleared. Ryan's smirk was both infuriating, and knee-melting.
Ryan's lips hovered a few inches over Vince's, his breath tickling Vince's as he finally whispered, "You don't get to make the first move, Captain."
Vince barely had time to register the full range of what Ryan had just said, before he felt Ryan's fingers tangling in his hair, his lips crashing down onto his.
Ryan wasted no time after the initial press of his lips against Vince's. His tongue violently shoved its way into Vince's mouth, as he pressed Vince back against the doorframe. Vince felt the wood digging into his spine, as he groaned against Ryan's mouth. Fuck. Ryan kissed like a house on fire. His hands fumbled briefly on Ryan's shirt front before they clawed their way through Ryan's hair. He felt as Ryan's hips pushed against him, and he pushed back harder.
Eventually Ryan broke the kiss, his teeth nipping lightly at Vince's bottom lip. "You know you're not leaving this time, Vince." His voice was low, full of delicious promise. Vince whimpered despite himself.
Ryan had one of his hands pressed against Vince's hip. The heat from his hand felt like it was burning through the fabric, branding his skin. Vince felt every muscle in his body tense, and he shuddered. He bit his bottom lip, and felt his cock twitch.
Damn it.
Vince let out the breath he didn't even know he was holding in, as he felt Ryan's thumb make a lazy circle over his hipbone.
"Turn around, Vince," Ryan whispered. The sound of his voice breaking the silence that had fallen between them. Vince eyed Ryan defiantly, and he watched as Ryan rolled his eyes.
"Don't think I won't make you turn around," Ryan whispered, voice sounding like silk over skin.
Slowly, Vince swallowed around the lump in his throat, and his eyes never leaving Ryan's, he turned, keeping his hands pressed against the doorjamb. Vince felt as Ryan's thumb slid over his hips. He could feel the heat of Ryan's gaze on his back. He wanted to stop this; knew he should, but Vince couldn't seem to get his lips to say the words. Every muscle in his body was tensed. He felt like he did when he was standing at centre ice, waiting for the puck to drop. The heat from Ryan's hand was scorching. It made his knees shake, and grip the wood harder.
Ryan's hand eventually moved from its spot on Vince's hip. Vince bit his lip so hard he was sure he tasted blood, and he trembled as he felt the tips of Ryan's fingers dip slightly past the waistband of his jeans.
"Oh, fuck," Vince groaned, as his eyes closed.
Ryan removed his hand, before both his hands slid up Vince's back. They eventually came around and began undoing the buttons of Vince's shirt.
Vince's hands were resting on the wood, his nails scraping against it. "You're a fucking tease," he choked out, as Ryan slid his shirt down his arms.
All Vince got in reply was a low chuckle from Ryan. "Are you going to complain?"
The tone of his voice was enough to send a shiver through Vince's spine. He almost didn't realize Ryan had stepped away and was grasping his hand as he led him to the bedroom.
Vince barely had time to register what was happening, before he felt Ryan pushing him on to the bed. Vince went willingly, and watched as Ryan disappeared into his closet for a moment, before he came back, a pale blue silk tie in his hand.
He towered over Vince as he let the tie slide from his grasp to spill over the bed in a puddle of blue silk. The tie, Vince realized, was the same shade of Ryan's eyes. For some reason, it caused his knees to shake, and he was grateful he was sitting down. He swallowed, watching Ryan's expression. It changed by a degree or two, and Vince found he had nearly bit his lip in half just wondering what the hell was going on in Ryan's head.
Ryan had his hands clasped behind his back as he stared down at Vince. His eyes were neutral and distant. Cornflower blue eyes surveyed Vince, before they slid to the tie. Vince reached a hand out, curling his fingers around Ryan's hipbone. Ryan's eyes briefly flitted to where Vince's hand was resting, before they locked on Vince's. Vince tugged gently on Ryan's hip with his hand, inching Ryan closer to him. He finally slid his hands to Ryan's upper arms, pulling him down slightly. He nuzzled his nose against Ryan's neck, breathing in Ryan's scent.
Ryan smelled like fresh linen, and finely milled soap. Vince could get high off the scent. "This is …" Vince's voice trailed off as he let his lips travel up to catch on Ryan's copper curls. He slid a hand around Ryan's waist, his fingers moving up and down Ryan's spine.
"… what you've been wanting since you came back from New York," Ryan whispered, the tip of his tongue running over Vince's bottom lip, before he pushed Vince slightly away, his hands were curled around Vince's upper arms, which effectively created some space between them.
"Don't …" Vince managed to get out, voice breathless.
"Don't what?" Ryan had his eyebrow raised, and he looked rather … smug.
"Don't … don't … fuck, Malone ..."
Ryan laughed as he slid one of his hands down Vince's chest, trailing over his abdomen, and then down to the fly of Vince's jeans.
Vince jumped slightly as Ryan stroked him through his jeans. He trembled under Ryan's touch, and dug his hands into his upper thighs as Ryan continued to stroke him.
"Fucking shit," Vince groaned, "don't you dare … stop." He was arching his hips up, trying desperately to create more friction between Ryan's hand and his cock.
Ryan had his other hand tangled in Vince's hair, as he yanked Vince's face up towards his. He pressed a kiss to the shell of Vince's ear, before he whispered, "You seem to have forgotten something, Captain."
Vince whimpered as he felt the pressure from Ryan's hand ease. Ryan's hand was still fisted in his hair, his teeth nipping at Vince's ear. "You're playing by my rules this time."
Ryan moved so quickly, Vince was breathless for a moment. He let out a strangled cry as Ryan gently but firmly pushed him. Vince scrambled briefly against the sheets as Ryan's hand curled around his arm, and tugged him towards the headboard.
"Jesus shit," Vince managed to get out, biting his bottom lip as Ryan's fingers were back to grazing his stomach.
Ryan kept his eyes locked on Vince's as he reached down to undo Vince's belt. The buckle made a soft clicking noise as Ryan managed to get it undone.
"One handed," Vince observed, "I'm impressed, Malone."
Ryan smirked as he left the belt undone, and undid the button on Vince's jeans, his eyes never leaving Vince's. "Smart ass," he muttered, tugging the fly on the denim down. Vince was about to say something about Ryan's ass, when he felt Ryan yank his jeans off.
Ryan shifted his position, bringing his knee up to widen the cradle of Vince's legs. Vince still had his boxers on, but Ryan seemed almost disinterested in their presence. He had his knee rubbing against the crotch of Vince's boxers, which had Vince jerk his hips. His hands grappled blindly at Ryan's arms, and he let out a noise that sounded pathetically close to a plea.
"Oh, fuck …" Vince moaned as Ryan moved his knee slightly, the rough denim creating a delicious friction against the thin fabric of Vince's boxers. Vince raised his head slightly, mouth catching on Ryan's chin.
Ryan's lips were in a thin line, his brow furrowed in concentration as he pressed a hand to Vince's shoulder, pushing him against the mattress. He moved his knee again in that maddeningly slow circle, and Vince let out a strangled cry, which was muffled shortly after by Ryan kissing him. It was a messy clash of tongue, lips, and teeth. Vince was quite sure he tasted blood in his mouth. He whimpered as Ryan bit down gently on his lips, and bucked his hips.
Ryan chuckled, as his hand skimmed down to press on Vince's hips, halting his movements. "What's the matter, Captain?" he asked, the tips of his fingers dipping slightly into the waistband of Vince's boxers. "Richards good at setting fires and not bothering to put them out?"
Vince had his eyes screwed shut, his teeth biting on his bottom lip so hard, he tasted blood. "Malone, I swear to God …" He rocked his hips against Ryan's knee. Vince was way past the point of caring how he looked in that instant. He just wanted Ryan to hurry the fuck up, because damnit all to hell, he was going way too slow. "Too … too … slow … fuck … come on, Malone, just … fuck ..."
Ryan ducked his head, his mouth pressed to the shell of Vince's ear. "If you want me to fuck you like how you and Brad used to fuck, I think you'll be sorely disappointed."
Vince's eyes were blinking rapidly as Ryan's slightly gravely voice continued to whisper overly dirty, filthy things against his ear. Somehow Vince had managed to hook his leg around Ryan's, and was rutting desperately against Ryan's knee, all the while trying to get Ryan to hurry the fuck up.
"What makes you think I … I want that," Vince gasped, as he ground against Ryan's knee.
"If you wanted me to fuck you like Brad would, you'd be with Brad right now." Ryan moved his knee then, robbing Vince of breath. It was enough to make him forget to hold on just a little longer …
Vince's eyes went wide, and he bit down on his bottom lip, as he dug his fingers into Ryan's arm. "Fucking shit, Malone … I - wait -"
He was a quivering, boneless mess as he shuddered his release, gasping for air in mouthfuls. When his vision finally cleared, he was greeted with the sight of Ryan looking at him, amusement flickering in his blue eyes.
"So," he started, easing his knee away from Vince. "The great, and all powerful Captain of the Tampa Bay Lightning trembles and falls apart under me."
Vince glared at Ryan, the retort he had dying on his lips as Ryan slid off the bed, before he pulled his shirt up and over his head. Ryan kept his eyes trained on Vince as he slowly undid the top button of his jeans. He was lowering the zipper slowly, the hot blue of his irises had Vince frozen. Ryan balanced on his right leg as he yanked the left side of his jeans down. He repeated the motion on the other leg, before he left the denim on the floor. His boxers were the last article of clothing to go, as he slid his fingers into the waist, and jerked them down over his hips, cock, legs, before kicking them aside.
Vince blinked as he took in Ryan's naked form. "You have so many …"
Ryan smirked, as his eyes assessed the ink. "Yeah. It's kind of … well, I guess you could say it's kind of a bad habit."
Vince was chewing on his now raw lip as he went over Ryan's words in his mind. "Bad habit?"
Ryan shrugged, stepping closer. "People say they're addicting."
"Do you believe that?" Vince reached a hand out to Ryan, trying to pull him closer.
"I can see it, yeah," Ryan said. "It's a rush." His hand reached towards Vince, and Vince's heart skipped a beat as he watched Ryan stretch his hand out.
Instead of grasping Vince's hand though, Ryan picked up the silk tie, and weaved it between the webbing of his fingers. Vince swallowed, his eyes never leaving the tie.
"Feeling the needle pierce your skin is like … it's like riding this thin line between pleasure, and pain."
Ryan's blue eyes were dark with arousal as he unravelled the tie. He repeated the pattern one more time, letting the ends flutter down his sides. He stepped into the space between Vince's legs. His eyebrow gave a slight perfunctory movement, and he rested his hands on his hips. "You can touch, if you want."
"Turn around," Vince whispered. Ryan let out a low laugh, and obeyed. He felt Vince's fingertips press against the sides of his vertebrae, before Ryan felt the pads of his fingers tracing the outline of his back. Vince's touch was light, but intent.
Ryan felt his cock twitch, going from half-hard to being hard enough to cut glass in less than a minute. When he felt a warm gust of air against his spine, he bit down hard on his bottom lip.
"I like this one," Vince mused, fingers tracing over Ryan's skin.
Ryan shifted out of Vince's grasp so fast, Vince barely realized Ryan had taken hold of both his wrists and was currently wrapping the blue silk around them.
"What are you -" Vince's questioning tone was cut off by Ryan pressing a finger to his lips.
"You'll see." Ryan's tone was light, skirting the edges of lust. Vince was powerless to do anything, as he watched Ryan bind his wrists.
"This is not -"
Ryan leaned in closer, tongue running over Vince's bottom lip. "Relax, Captain, we're just getting started …"