(fic) Bloom
Title: Bloom
Pairing: Kyle Wellwood / Wade Belak
for the hockey_fc rookie-mentor challenge
Disclaimer: this is a work of fiction
Rating: NC-17
Bloom
With guys, Wade likes it hard, rough to the point of breaking. Women he likes it to be tender, likes their skin and the way his hands look against the round parts of their bodies. Loves the way his hands can cover a woman’s whole breast, the way his palms curve in the hollow of their hips. But not guys. He likes it on the hard edge of walls and limits.
He loves the way bruises start out pink and almost seem to shine from the sweat on a man’s skin. And by the next morning when Kyle is undressing in the locker room Wade loves the way the contusions stand out darkbright on his skin. Obscene and beautiful, desire and intent.
Kyle’s skin is pale enough - on his shoulders and on his thighs - that the marks are obviously from fingers. And Wade is sure sometimes if he looked hard enough he would see his fingerprints like ink stains on Kyle’s flesh.
They fade in the same way; the purpleblack softens to a smudge then lingers in smears and pinpricks of colour for a few days afterwards.
It’s usually Matt who notices, or if everyone notices it’s Matt who will call attention to it. And Wade will make eye contact with Kyle long enough that the smaller man’s fading blush will bloom anew.
Wade was pulled up short, the fourth time they fucked. It had been against the wall of Kyle’s room and their hands slapping into the walls scrabbling for grip and Kyle’s lower back had all kept hitting the light switch. And the room had flickered with their breath and Wade’s hips against Kyle. Black to white, light to dark.
Mats had pulled Kyle aside - it was Pavel this time that made a pointed comment about the kind of people Kyle must be dating - and Wade had lingered to hear what he said. Mats had been concerned, tired to wave him away, but Wade could use his excuse of being team enforcer to hang around.
Kyle had gone scarlet, insisted that it was mutual that it was ok. And he looked so miserable about being questioned that Wade was ashamed of everything. Even things he'd only thought and never even suggested. He promised himself that he wouldn’t go near the kid again.
But the next night when Kyle asks for a ride home Wade agrees in an instant.
They get back to Kyle’s house and Wade had said: ‘I won’t do anything you don’t want.’ And Kyle had flushed and mumbled he ‘wanted it the way it had been just fine.’
Wade hadn’t entirely believed him, the way he’d been fiddling with the edge of the cloth on the table in the kitchen.
Wade had pulled him to the bedroom and slide down on his knees in front of Kyle, whose eyes had opened huge like a Japanese cartoon.
‘Whatever you want’ Wade had said and wondered how many spans of Kyle’s palms it would take to cover his back in welts made of hand prints. How hot the skin would be, how it would feel to lie on the cool sheets with Kyle draped over his back breathing hot air onto his neck.
‘Some time.’ Kyle finally says. When Wade looks up, Kyle’s hand under his chin tilting his head back, ‘sometime, yeah.’ Kyle smiles and Wade looks up further to his eyes, glittery in the light, wild the way they never looked in a locker room.
Kyle grinned so that most of his teeth showed and slid his leg over Wade’s hip until his foot was resting against the middle of Wade’s back.
Wade smiles then as well, low and not much like a smile at all. He stands up, one hand under Kyle’s ass, one hand against the wall for leverage.
Kyle puts his fingers on Wade face and sighs when Wade shoves them back against the wall harder than he really has to.
‘Doesn’t just have to be your hands’, Kyle says, ‘you can use your teeth.’
Pairing: Kyle Wellwood / Wade Belak
for the hockey_fc rookie-mentor challenge
Disclaimer: this is a work of fiction
Rating: NC-17
Bloom
With guys, Wade likes it hard, rough to the point of breaking. Women he likes it to be tender, likes their skin and the way his hands look against the round parts of their bodies. Loves the way his hands can cover a woman’s whole breast, the way his palms curve in the hollow of their hips. But not guys. He likes it on the hard edge of walls and limits.
He loves the way bruises start out pink and almost seem to shine from the sweat on a man’s skin. And by the next morning when Kyle is undressing in the locker room Wade loves the way the contusions stand out darkbright on his skin. Obscene and beautiful, desire and intent.
Kyle’s skin is pale enough - on his shoulders and on his thighs - that the marks are obviously from fingers. And Wade is sure sometimes if he looked hard enough he would see his fingerprints like ink stains on Kyle’s flesh.
They fade in the same way; the purpleblack softens to a smudge then lingers in smears and pinpricks of colour for a few days afterwards.
It’s usually Matt who notices, or if everyone notices it’s Matt who will call attention to it. And Wade will make eye contact with Kyle long enough that the smaller man’s fading blush will bloom anew.
Wade was pulled up short, the fourth time they fucked. It had been against the wall of Kyle’s room and their hands slapping into the walls scrabbling for grip and Kyle’s lower back had all kept hitting the light switch. And the room had flickered with their breath and Wade’s hips against Kyle. Black to white, light to dark.
Mats had pulled Kyle aside - it was Pavel this time that made a pointed comment about the kind of people Kyle must be dating - and Wade had lingered to hear what he said. Mats had been concerned, tired to wave him away, but Wade could use his excuse of being team enforcer to hang around.
Kyle had gone scarlet, insisted that it was mutual that it was ok. And he looked so miserable about being questioned that Wade was ashamed of everything. Even things he'd only thought and never even suggested. He promised himself that he wouldn’t go near the kid again.
But the next night when Kyle asks for a ride home Wade agrees in an instant.
They get back to Kyle’s house and Wade had said: ‘I won’t do anything you don’t want.’ And Kyle had flushed and mumbled he ‘wanted it the way it had been just fine.’
Wade hadn’t entirely believed him, the way he’d been fiddling with the edge of the cloth on the table in the kitchen.
Wade had pulled him to the bedroom and slide down on his knees in front of Kyle, whose eyes had opened huge like a Japanese cartoon.
‘Whatever you want’ Wade had said and wondered how many spans of Kyle’s palms it would take to cover his back in welts made of hand prints. How hot the skin would be, how it would feel to lie on the cool sheets with Kyle draped over his back breathing hot air onto his neck.
‘Some time.’ Kyle finally says. When Wade looks up, Kyle’s hand under his chin tilting his head back, ‘sometime, yeah.’ Kyle smiles and Wade looks up further to his eyes, glittery in the light, wild the way they never looked in a locker room.
Kyle grinned so that most of his teeth showed and slid his leg over Wade’s hip until his foot was resting against the middle of Wade’s back.
Wade smiles then as well, low and not much like a smile at all. He stands up, one hand under Kyle’s ass, one hand against the wall for leverage.
Kyle puts his fingers on Wade face and sighs when Wade shoves them back against the wall harder than he really has to.
‘Doesn’t just have to be your hands’, Kyle says, ‘you can use your teeth.’