Don't Close Your Eyes-Chapter 1
Title: Don't Close Your Eyes
Rating: PG-NC-17
Warning: Sex in later chapters. And other naughtiness.
Summary: Ville's a figure skater. Bam's a hockey player. When a injury forces Bam to quit the game, can Ville get him back on the ice?
Disclaimer: Don't know, don't own, didn't happen. Sorry.
Bam tightened the laces on his skates, flexing his toes inside. Good, they were just tight enough that he didn’t have to worry about them slipping, causing friction, and causing a blister. It was amazing how small details could add up to something major.
He snapped his helmet on and glided easily out onto the ice, stick floating before him. This was just a scrimmage, he reminded himself. This didn’t really count. There was no reason to get violent.
The ref blew the whistle and the games began. Bam felt his adrenaline start to flow almost instantly. He saw the puck, dived through it, pushing past the opposing team. He was vaguely aware of the boy on his left kissing the ice.
What did it matter? The only thing that was important was the puck. Winning was all that mattered. Getting what he wanted was the only thing he cared about, to hell with the consequences.
His trophy was there; the black rubber disk. He bent slightly, slapped it hard to his teammate nearest the net. He cheered loudly when his plan worked, and his teammate shot the puck into the net. The other team’s goalie was known for not being at the top of his game during the first few minutes.
Bam threw both fists into the air, relishing the good start to the game.
Unfortunately for him, that boy who had kissed the ice was one of those players who didn’t consider it a game until blood spilled on the ice. He saw bam and his eyes narrowed.
Target locked. He plowed straight for the smaller boy mowing him straight to the ground. Bam tried to turn at the last second, and all three hundred pounds of the other player landed directly on his upper body.
The sound of him crashing down onto the ice seemed to echo throughout the whole rink.
**
Ville Valo spread his arms out as he spun. He knew he’d have to clear the ice soon, let those hockey players have their little game. He didn’t much see the point in the vile sport.
Ice should be respected, should be revered. You should honor it with such things as he did, dancing delicately on skates. It wasn’t to be dirtied with all the blood and violence associated with hockey.
Those players gave all skaters a bad name. He sneered when he saw them sitting restlessly on the benches, in their jerseys and padding, eyeing him and snickering.
Ville knew what they were saying. Fag, queer, homo. He’d heard it all before. It stopped phasing him long ago. Reluctantly, he skated towards the other side on the rink and climbed out and onto one of the benches to undo his skates.
As much as he loathed the sport, he did want to watch the game. There was one reason and one reason only he stayed, and it wasn’t to count concussions.
The Reason had curly dark brown hair and big blue eyes. He was as vicious as the rest of them out on the ice, but there was something about him that Ville just couldn’t forget. Perhaps it was that he was so small, and moved with such grace out there, unlike the rest of those lumbering hippos.
He moved almost like he could have been a figure skater.
Ville casually strapped himself into his regular boots, tying the laces of his skates together. He leaned back.
Instantly, The Reason was skating like his life depended on it. Ville winced as he saw one of the burly players in different colors fall to the ice. He’d fallen enough times to know what hurt.
His heart stopped when he saw the fallen one stand up, skates slipping a little. He knew that this was going to end badly. Ville bit down as his lips as the fallen skater catapulted himself towards The Reason.
The way he fell to the ice made even Ville want to gasp in pain.
Rating: PG-NC-17
Warning: Sex in later chapters. And other naughtiness.
Summary: Ville's a figure skater. Bam's a hockey player. When a injury forces Bam to quit the game, can Ville get him back on the ice?
Disclaimer: Don't know, don't own, didn't happen. Sorry.
Bam tightened the laces on his skates, flexing his toes inside. Good, they were just tight enough that he didn’t have to worry about them slipping, causing friction, and causing a blister. It was amazing how small details could add up to something major.
He snapped his helmet on and glided easily out onto the ice, stick floating before him. This was just a scrimmage, he reminded himself. This didn’t really count. There was no reason to get violent.
The ref blew the whistle and the games began. Bam felt his adrenaline start to flow almost instantly. He saw the puck, dived through it, pushing past the opposing team. He was vaguely aware of the boy on his left kissing the ice.
What did it matter? The only thing that was important was the puck. Winning was all that mattered. Getting what he wanted was the only thing he cared about, to hell with the consequences.
His trophy was there; the black rubber disk. He bent slightly, slapped it hard to his teammate nearest the net. He cheered loudly when his plan worked, and his teammate shot the puck into the net. The other team’s goalie was known for not being at the top of his game during the first few minutes.
Bam threw both fists into the air, relishing the good start to the game.
Unfortunately for him, that boy who had kissed the ice was one of those players who didn’t consider it a game until blood spilled on the ice. He saw bam and his eyes narrowed.
Target locked. He plowed straight for the smaller boy mowing him straight to the ground. Bam tried to turn at the last second, and all three hundred pounds of the other player landed directly on his upper body.
The sound of him crashing down onto the ice seemed to echo throughout the whole rink.
**
Ville Valo spread his arms out as he spun. He knew he’d have to clear the ice soon, let those hockey players have their little game. He didn’t much see the point in the vile sport.
Ice should be respected, should be revered. You should honor it with such things as he did, dancing delicately on skates. It wasn’t to be dirtied with all the blood and violence associated with hockey.
Those players gave all skaters a bad name. He sneered when he saw them sitting restlessly on the benches, in their jerseys and padding, eyeing him and snickering.
Ville knew what they were saying. Fag, queer, homo. He’d heard it all before. It stopped phasing him long ago. Reluctantly, he skated towards the other side on the rink and climbed out and onto one of the benches to undo his skates.
As much as he loathed the sport, he did want to watch the game. There was one reason and one reason only he stayed, and it wasn’t to count concussions.
The Reason had curly dark brown hair and big blue eyes. He was as vicious as the rest of them out on the ice, but there was something about him that Ville just couldn’t forget. Perhaps it was that he was so small, and moved with such grace out there, unlike the rest of those lumbering hippos.
He moved almost like he could have been a figure skater.
Ville casually strapped himself into his regular boots, tying the laces of his skates together. He leaned back.
Instantly, The Reason was skating like his life depended on it. Ville winced as he saw one of the burly players in different colors fall to the ice. He’d fallen enough times to know what hurt.
His heart stopped when he saw the fallen one stand up, skates slipping a little. He knew that this was going to end badly. Ville bit down as his lips as the fallen skater catapulted himself towards The Reason.
The way he fell to the ice made even Ville want to gasp in pain.