Fic: Making Good
Title: Making Good
Author: shana
Dedication: To liroa15
Disclaimer: They do not belong to me. Also, not true. I made it all up.
Pairing: Travis Ewanyk/Keegan Lowe
Rating: R
Word Count: 1080
A.N: For liroa15. For being the one who's gone through autograph lines with me, been deafened by me, and never asked to get off the ride.
It had seemed like a great idea when he made a bet with Lowesy about the outcome of their first pro series against each other. He was pretty confident it would be a spilt series, and nothing would come of the bet, and not having a bet with Lowesy would be unthinkable. Marty would never let him hear the end of it.
He knows about how AHL series go to know a lot of time the teams split their series. That's not what happened though.
The Checkers trounced them in the first game. He's actually a little embarrassed by the fact they didn't really show up for the season opener. The score line might have looked respectable, but it didn't feel that way from the bench. It felt every bit as awful as any big loss of which he's ever been a part, maybe even worse. He's lost his first two professional games.
But seeing Lowesy on the visitors' bench was another shock. He's never played against Lowesy in any sort of league play. Sure, he's played against Lowesy in practice and for fun, but never like this. And Lowesy's way more annoying when he's on the other team.
He's never lost to Lowesy with points and standings on the line. Sometimes, he and Lowesy have gotten drunk after a loss or a series of losses. And somehow, that's not an option anymore either because Lowesy just swept a series. Just swept him in a series.
And after all that, he's still got a bet hanging over his head. That'll be a lesson about making bets in the preseason to shut Marty up, unspecific bets too.
He sends Lowesy a quick text before he joins the rest of the guys in the showers. Lowesy should be heading back to Charlotte pretty soon, probably climbing on a bus in the next hour depending how long it takes for the guys get ready, press to wrap up, and the equipment to get packed up again.
They don't have that much time for him to make good on this bet.
He can't imagine there's much Lowesy could want from him in such a little amount of time. A touch of home maybe, but there's not even enough time for a buddy fuck.
He and Lowesy always fond other partners for this dance back in Juniors. They never had an opportunity, or more correctly a need, to find each other in the dead of night for release or comfort or even just a connection to humanity.
He's still got a towel wrapped around his waist when his phone buzzes with an incoming text.
Any empty rooms near u?
He counts the rooms he's pretty sure are empty up in his head. 3 how much space we need?
It takes a moment for Lowesy to get back to him. Probably he's texting with his Mom and Dad about his first pro wins. Not a lot. Some. Enuff for u to get on ur knees
Meet me in equip room at end of ur hall. 5 min ;)
The winking face was probably unecessary, but whatever. It's not like Lowesy doesn't know him. He'll know what Trav is actually trying to say.
Lowesy manages to get his ass to the equipment room in like four minutes. It's weird to see his dumb face in his track pants and Checkers t-shirt. Trav knows he looks practically the same, except his stuff is all covered in the Barons logo.
"You ready?" he asks, closing the door behind him.
"Well, it's not like I'm going to drop my pants and come like a fifteen year old."
"I heard that story."
"Yeah. Everyone did. Markie has a big mouth, the bastard."
"It's a good story," Trav protests.
"Only for Markie. Whatever, blow me, you cocky bastard. Make it quick because I've got a bus to catch."
"Yeah, yeah. Mark always said you were bossy," Trav grumbles.
"Time's wasting, pretty boy."
Trav sinks to his knees. The equipment room smells like hockey. He doesn't mind though. By this point in his life, it's almost a comforting smell.
Lowesy's track pants slide down easily, and Trav takes half a second to wonder how he should approach the situation. After a second of study, he decides to just swallow as much of Lowesy's dick as he can.
He gets most of it, and it earns him a chocked off moan while Lowesy snaps his hips forward.
Trav uses his hands to steady Lowesy's hips because the last thing he needs is to be chocking on Lowesy's dick after having to choke on losing.
He sets a quick, brutal rhythm. Lowesy's dick is sliding in and out of his mouth at an almost frantic pace, but Trav's never met a guy who didn't get turned on by winning. Trav can barely keep up, and he feels the drool dribbling out of the corner of his mouth.
Lowesy's hands fist in his hair, and that's the only warning he gets before Lowesy comes.
He pulls back and shoots Lowesy an evil look. "Warn a guy, you fucker. That's just rude."
Lowesy manages to look a little embarrassed. "Yeah, sorry about that."
"You always like that? No wonder Markie told everyone you go off like a fifteen year old. I was expecting it to take longer to get you off. I mean, this is good because we're short on time, but I didn't think someone your age would still be such a minute man."
"Fuck off. Winning's a really big turn on. Not my fault you don't know that."
Trav rises from his knees, flips Lowesy off, and wipes his hand across his mouth. He's pretty pleased with how quickly he's got his forfeit off the books. He and Lowesy are good again.
"You're going to have to hurry if you want to make your bus, even with how fast you came."
Lowesy swears, quickly pulling up his pants and running his hands through is hair.
"I look okay?"
"You look like you just got off. Don't think you can help that. Luckily, a lot of guys probably jerked off in the showers."
"Whatever. Should we up the stakes for the next series?"
"You're on. As long as we have time. Can't do a fuck with this much time. Now haul ass. I don't want to be getting any texts from you bitching about how you've missed your bus because you were feeling chatty after you got off."
After Lowesy's gone back to his teammates, Trav runs his fingers through this hair and heads back to the guys. He can deal with Marty now. He's made good on his bet.
Fini.
That's seven days done, and 5 to go!
S
Author: shana
Dedication: To liroa15
Disclaimer: They do not belong to me. Also, not true. I made it all up.
Pairing: Travis Ewanyk/Keegan Lowe
Rating: R
Word Count: 1080
A.N: For liroa15. For being the one who's gone through autograph lines with me, been deafened by me, and never asked to get off the ride.
It had seemed like a great idea when he made a bet with Lowesy about the outcome of their first pro series against each other. He was pretty confident it would be a spilt series, and nothing would come of the bet, and not having a bet with Lowesy would be unthinkable. Marty would never let him hear the end of it.
He knows about how AHL series go to know a lot of time the teams split their series. That's not what happened though.
The Checkers trounced them in the first game. He's actually a little embarrassed by the fact they didn't really show up for the season opener. The score line might have looked respectable, but it didn't feel that way from the bench. It felt every bit as awful as any big loss of which he's ever been a part, maybe even worse. He's lost his first two professional games.
But seeing Lowesy on the visitors' bench was another shock. He's never played against Lowesy in any sort of league play. Sure, he's played against Lowesy in practice and for fun, but never like this. And Lowesy's way more annoying when he's on the other team.
He's never lost to Lowesy with points and standings on the line. Sometimes, he and Lowesy have gotten drunk after a loss or a series of losses. And somehow, that's not an option anymore either because Lowesy just swept a series. Just swept him in a series.
And after all that, he's still got a bet hanging over his head. That'll be a lesson about making bets in the preseason to shut Marty up, unspecific bets too.
He sends Lowesy a quick text before he joins the rest of the guys in the showers. Lowesy should be heading back to Charlotte pretty soon, probably climbing on a bus in the next hour depending how long it takes for the guys get ready, press to wrap up, and the equipment to get packed up again.
They don't have that much time for him to make good on this bet.
He can't imagine there's much Lowesy could want from him in such a little amount of time. A touch of home maybe, but there's not even enough time for a buddy fuck.
He and Lowesy always fond other partners for this dance back in Juniors. They never had an opportunity, or more correctly a need, to find each other in the dead of night for release or comfort or even just a connection to humanity.
He's still got a towel wrapped around his waist when his phone buzzes with an incoming text.
Any empty rooms near u?
He counts the rooms he's pretty sure are empty up in his head. 3 how much space we need?
It takes a moment for Lowesy to get back to him. Probably he's texting with his Mom and Dad about his first pro wins. Not a lot. Some. Enuff for u to get on ur knees
Meet me in equip room at end of ur hall. 5 min ;)
The winking face was probably unecessary, but whatever. It's not like Lowesy doesn't know him. He'll know what Trav is actually trying to say.
Lowesy manages to get his ass to the equipment room in like four minutes. It's weird to see his dumb face in his track pants and Checkers t-shirt. Trav knows he looks practically the same, except his stuff is all covered in the Barons logo.
"You ready?" he asks, closing the door behind him.
"Well, it's not like I'm going to drop my pants and come like a fifteen year old."
"I heard that story."
"Yeah. Everyone did. Markie has a big mouth, the bastard."
"It's a good story," Trav protests.
"Only for Markie. Whatever, blow me, you cocky bastard. Make it quick because I've got a bus to catch."
"Yeah, yeah. Mark always said you were bossy," Trav grumbles.
"Time's wasting, pretty boy."
Trav sinks to his knees. The equipment room smells like hockey. He doesn't mind though. By this point in his life, it's almost a comforting smell.
Lowesy's track pants slide down easily, and Trav takes half a second to wonder how he should approach the situation. After a second of study, he decides to just swallow as much of Lowesy's dick as he can.
He gets most of it, and it earns him a chocked off moan while Lowesy snaps his hips forward.
Trav uses his hands to steady Lowesy's hips because the last thing he needs is to be chocking on Lowesy's dick after having to choke on losing.
He sets a quick, brutal rhythm. Lowesy's dick is sliding in and out of his mouth at an almost frantic pace, but Trav's never met a guy who didn't get turned on by winning. Trav can barely keep up, and he feels the drool dribbling out of the corner of his mouth.
Lowesy's hands fist in his hair, and that's the only warning he gets before Lowesy comes.
He pulls back and shoots Lowesy an evil look. "Warn a guy, you fucker. That's just rude."
Lowesy manages to look a little embarrassed. "Yeah, sorry about that."
"You always like that? No wonder Markie told everyone you go off like a fifteen year old. I was expecting it to take longer to get you off. I mean, this is good because we're short on time, but I didn't think someone your age would still be such a minute man."
"Fuck off. Winning's a really big turn on. Not my fault you don't know that."
Trav rises from his knees, flips Lowesy off, and wipes his hand across his mouth. He's pretty pleased with how quickly he's got his forfeit off the books. He and Lowesy are good again.
"You're going to have to hurry if you want to make your bus, even with how fast you came."
Lowesy swears, quickly pulling up his pants and running his hands through is hair.
"I look okay?"
"You look like you just got off. Don't think you can help that. Luckily, a lot of guys probably jerked off in the showers."
"Whatever. Should we up the stakes for the next series?"
"You're on. As long as we have time. Can't do a fuck with this much time. Now haul ass. I don't want to be getting any texts from you bitching about how you've missed your bus because you were feeling chatty after you got off."
After Lowesy's gone back to his teammates, Trav runs his fingers through this hair and heads back to the guys. He can deal with Marty now. He's made good on his bet.
Fini.
That's seven days done, and 5 to go!
S