[ Card Game ] - Lucic / Skinner
title : With Me
author : russiantorque & ndrng_cntrdctn
team / pairing : Carolina Hurricanes & Boston Bruins - Milan Lucic / Jeff Skinner
rating : PG-13
words : ~2,000
prompt : Jeff Skinner & Milan Lucic ; Incidental Contact ; Charades
EveningJeff Skinner stood outside the bar staring at the neon sign. The constant electric buzz sounded like a taunt.
You’re too chicken.
The game was over. He and his team would be flying back home in the morning. Boston was a nice city, but since they’d just won their second game against the Bruins, they weren’t all that thrilled about staying an extra night. And Jeff wasn’t particularly keen on the possibility of being recognized which, because of all the publicity he’d gotten last year, wasn’t such a long shot anymore.
Hands still in his pockets, he didn’t notice someone approach and stand next to him until a hand nudged his elbow.
“Hey.”
Jeff turned abruptly, more than he meant to, and came face to face with the absolute last person he expected, or even wanted, to see. Milan Lucic.
Milan ‘I’m-going-to-fuck-with-you-all-game’ Lucic. Or Milan ‘Look-into-my-gorgeous-fucking-eyes’ Lucic, Thank you very much.
“Uh...hey.” Lame. He ducked his head as soon as the words left his mouth and began picking at his fingernails, like there was something more interesting there than next to him.
“Good game tonight.”
Shit. Jeff felt his face grow hot at the mention of the game. He kind of wanted to curl up and disappear in the concrete.
EarlierJeff held his own on the ice, and pretty well for a kid of nineteen who hadn’t hit six feet. He passed pucks, took hits, scored goals. Tonight’s game was no different than any other game.
Until he came into contact with Milan Lucic.
Everyone knew Lucic was a rough and tumble sort of guy, someone you really wanted on your team but dreaded facing from the opposite side. If he didn’t make it to the penalty box at some point or another, or at least face the threat of being tossed in the penalty box, it was probably an off night. And he didn’t necessarily target players, he wasn’t trying to put the pressure on Jeff, but by the end of the night, Jeff was starting to wish he’d dipped out of the game with a cold.
It started in the second period, center ice, face-off.
Milan skated into position, tapped his stick on the ice a few times and of course Jeff looked up at him. What he wasn’t expecting to catch him dead in the eyes as Milan winked, fucking winked at him and through his own confused blinking and the shock of it, he nearly missed the face-off pass and landed straight on his ass.
The game went on and Jeff tried to put it out of his mind. Obviously Lucic was just trying to rile him up, catch him off guard, you know- those things hockey players do to piss each other off. He tried his best to get his head back in the game, keep his focus where it should be, and it worked. Kind of.
Third period rolled around and Carolina was up, 2-0. Jeff beat Milan to the puck in the corner- no icing- and he thought he’d be able to get the puck out and maybe make a scoring chance, but all the sudden there was a heavy weight on him and hot breath on the back of his neck.
“Hey.” Milan’s voice was dark chocolate, sweet cognac, thick cigar smoke.
Jeff pushed back, mostly in an attempt to get away and not at all because he was feeling a little threatened, but he couldn’t lift himself from the boards. The puck was trapped between their skates and he couldn’t move an inch and was that Milan chuckling softly in his ear?
He just about died on the spot. Hits, he could handle. Being battered across the ice, no problem. But being teased was an entirely different story. And it wasn’t just about the laughing or the touching or whatever Milan was trying to get across, it was the powerlessness of being trapped beneath someone so much bigger. If it came down to it, there would be no way Jeff could win in a fair fight.
And sure, he’d flirted around with members of his own team- it was kind of a requirement when you spent a good amount of time naked around each other- but it wasn’t something they did on the ice. And never with players on the other team (except for that one time in Vancouver)...
The rest of the night went the same way. Every opportunity Lucic got, he was right on top of Jeff. And damn it, he’d be lying through his teeth if he didn’t have a massive boner by the end of the night.
EveningAnd now, Milan Lucic was standing right next to him, close enough that he could smell the faint scent of soap coming from his skin. No cologne.
Son. Of. A. Bitch.
“Wanna get a drink?”
Of course, Jeff just happened to look up just in time to see Lucic tug on his lower lip with his teeth. And he’d be damned if that didn’t send a jolt of interest straight to his dick.
“Uh, um, I-” he started. Thankfully, Lucic, Sorry- Milan, held up his hand.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
Making his way to the door, Milan pulled it open and gently put his hand in the small of his back. Jeff felt a small blush creeping up his face like he was a damn virgin bride.
They found a table in the darkest corner, as far away from the wailing karaoke speakers as humanly possible. If Jeff was worried about being recognized, then Milan was practically a shining beacon screaming, “Look at me!” Fortunately, people either didn’t notice or didn’t care and with the exception of the waitress coming by to take their orders, they were left alone.
“You know I’m underage, right?” Jeff asked, fingers prying at plastic menu. He tried to avoid looking directly across at Milan, but it was hard.
Milan’s response was to laugh softly, “You know who you’re with, right? Drink your beer, Skinner. No one’s going to tell mommy on you here.”
He took the glass in his hand, about to bring it to his lips when he realized that Milan was holding his own glass over the center of the table. Oh. Their glasses knocked together and Milan winked at him for the second time, causing Jeff to nearly choke on the first sip of his beer.
Well that’s just great. Way to show him what a pro you are at this, Skinner.
“Talk to me,” Milan said, setting his glass down, “Tell me something about yourself.”
Jeff found himself at a loss, so he simply said the first thing that popped into his head- “Well, I like hockey. I mean, of course I like hockey, but you know- I like watching it too, sometimes. For a long time I wanted to do figure skating instead- silly, I know- but hockey just sort of happened and-”
He realized he was rambling and cut himself off, taking the moment to take a long drink and he tried to ignore the way Milan was leaning across the table, mouth curved into a smile and eyes just about sparkling. There was no way to tell if he was being made fun of or if Milan was actually enjoying this and it was frustrating.
“Don’t stop.”
Well, that was an answer.
Jeff talked for a while more, about what it was like to leave school and how his first full season just kind of exploded his entire life- how he doesn’t have time for anything other than hockey anymore and it’s weird that so many people like him and and he’s on television now, right alongside the big names like Staal and Ovechkin and Crosby.
“I know I’m not nearly as good as them yet, but I’m trying,” Jeff told Milan, drinking off the rest of his beer and sliding the empty glass to the end of the table. He was a little tipsy, not really used to drinking on an empty stomach and he knew it was loosening his tongue. “And Eric’s been really great to me too. I thought he was a jerk at first but-”
“I don’t wanna hear about him,” Milan interrupted, brow furrowing. “You’re with me, remember?”
You’re with me.
With me.
“Yeah, sorry.” Jeff couldn’t shake the feeling that he had maybe bitten off a little more than he could chew with this one. “Tell me something about you, it isn’t fair if I sit here talking all night.”
Milan’s grin widened, white teeth catching the light a little and he looked like a wolf. Or a tiger, or anything predatory, really.
“You really want to stay here all night? Because I had something else in mind.”
Jeff didn’t have a chance to react- a shift in his peripheral vision made him turn his head and hello, Captain Eric Staal, in the flesh.
“Eric! I-” He scrambled to get out of the booth, away from Milan and he didn’t even think about the fact that there were several empty glasses sitting on the table at this point. “It isn’t what you think, we’re-”
“Lucic.” Eric growled. “Wanna tell me what you think you’re doing?”
The way Milan stretched back in the booth, long arms raising above his head, made his shirt ride up and Jeff was trying really, really hard not to stare because now that he was standing, it was like all the alcohol went straight to his head and he never realized how tall Eric was.
Like really, really tall. Same height as Milan, but lankier- more slender.
“I think,” Milan started, “I’m trying to keep your girlfriend out of trouble. Wouldn’t want her to get lost or anything.”
Jeff scowled at Milan from behind Eric, but the captain just laughed it off.
“Not sure I believe that, about the trouble.”
“You should. I don’t think either of us want a problem, if you know what I mean.”
If Eric had hackles, they’d be prickling up ten ways from Tuesday. Jeff glared over Eric’s shoulder and shook his head, pointing at the door and then back to Eric. It might have made sense to someone, somewhere, but Milan just tilted his head quizzically, mouthing the word ‘What?’ in response.
“Take a seat, I’ll buy you a beer,” Milan offered instead, ignoring the exasperated look Jeff shot at him, “I can take care of you too, if you’re interested.”
Jeff blanched.
But it turned out that Milan knew what he was doing because Eric shook his head, “No thanks.”
Eric insisted on pulling Jeff aside before heading out, reminded him, “You’ve got my number, call if you need me.” And then Eric hugged him, pressed his mouth to Jeff’s forehead and patted him affectionately on the rump before heading out.
Watching Eric leave put a note of discord in the back of Jeff’s mind- the last thing he wanted was to disappoint his captain. But he didn’t seem to have a problem with this so...
“What do you say we get out of here?”
Milan’s hand came to rest on Jeff’s hip, curling into his side. His thumb slipped under Jeff’s thin shirt and rubbed small circles along his skin. The alcohol made the sensation more intense that it really should have been and Jeff arched into it.
“Got something in mind?”
The heat of Milan’s body pressed against Jeff’s and for the first time that night, Jeff could actually feel him- the knotted muscle of his chest and abs, the drag of his lips along his neck.
“I was thinking we could go back to my place and play it by ear,” Milan murmured, “If you think your beloved captain won’t mind.”
Jeff nearly forgot they were in a bar and caught himself at the very edge of what would have been a very, very embarrassing moan.
“Sounds like a plan to me.”
...
[ Hockey Card Archive ]
author : russiantorque & ndrng_cntrdctn
team / pairing : Carolina Hurricanes & Boston Bruins - Milan Lucic / Jeff Skinner
rating : PG-13
words : ~2,000
prompt : Jeff Skinner & Milan Lucic ; Incidental Contact ; Charades
EveningJeff Skinner stood outside the bar staring at the neon sign. The constant electric buzz sounded like a taunt.
You’re too chicken.
The game was over. He and his team would be flying back home in the morning. Boston was a nice city, but since they’d just won their second game against the Bruins, they weren’t all that thrilled about staying an extra night. And Jeff wasn’t particularly keen on the possibility of being recognized which, because of all the publicity he’d gotten last year, wasn’t such a long shot anymore.
Hands still in his pockets, he didn’t notice someone approach and stand next to him until a hand nudged his elbow.
“Hey.”
Jeff turned abruptly, more than he meant to, and came face to face with the absolute last person he expected, or even wanted, to see. Milan Lucic.
Milan ‘I’m-going-to-fuck-with-you-all-game’ Lucic. Or Milan ‘Look-into-my-gorgeous-fucking-eyes’ Lucic, Thank you very much.
“Uh...hey.” Lame. He ducked his head as soon as the words left his mouth and began picking at his fingernails, like there was something more interesting there than next to him.
“Good game tonight.”
Shit. Jeff felt his face grow hot at the mention of the game. He kind of wanted to curl up and disappear in the concrete.
EarlierJeff held his own on the ice, and pretty well for a kid of nineteen who hadn’t hit six feet. He passed pucks, took hits, scored goals. Tonight’s game was no different than any other game.
Until he came into contact with Milan Lucic.
Everyone knew Lucic was a rough and tumble sort of guy, someone you really wanted on your team but dreaded facing from the opposite side. If he didn’t make it to the penalty box at some point or another, or at least face the threat of being tossed in the penalty box, it was probably an off night. And he didn’t necessarily target players, he wasn’t trying to put the pressure on Jeff, but by the end of the night, Jeff was starting to wish he’d dipped out of the game with a cold.
It started in the second period, center ice, face-off.
Milan skated into position, tapped his stick on the ice a few times and of course Jeff looked up at him. What he wasn’t expecting to catch him dead in the eyes as Milan winked, fucking winked at him and through his own confused blinking and the shock of it, he nearly missed the face-off pass and landed straight on his ass.
The game went on and Jeff tried to put it out of his mind. Obviously Lucic was just trying to rile him up, catch him off guard, you know- those things hockey players do to piss each other off. He tried his best to get his head back in the game, keep his focus where it should be, and it worked. Kind of.
Third period rolled around and Carolina was up, 2-0. Jeff beat Milan to the puck in the corner- no icing- and he thought he’d be able to get the puck out and maybe make a scoring chance, but all the sudden there was a heavy weight on him and hot breath on the back of his neck.
“Hey.” Milan’s voice was dark chocolate, sweet cognac, thick cigar smoke.
Jeff pushed back, mostly in an attempt to get away and not at all because he was feeling a little threatened, but he couldn’t lift himself from the boards. The puck was trapped between their skates and he couldn’t move an inch and was that Milan chuckling softly in his ear?
He just about died on the spot. Hits, he could handle. Being battered across the ice, no problem. But being teased was an entirely different story. And it wasn’t just about the laughing or the touching or whatever Milan was trying to get across, it was the powerlessness of being trapped beneath someone so much bigger. If it came down to it, there would be no way Jeff could win in a fair fight.
And sure, he’d flirted around with members of his own team- it was kind of a requirement when you spent a good amount of time naked around each other- but it wasn’t something they did on the ice. And never with players on the other team (except for that one time in Vancouver)...
The rest of the night went the same way. Every opportunity Lucic got, he was right on top of Jeff. And damn it, he’d be lying through his teeth if he didn’t have a massive boner by the end of the night.
EveningAnd now, Milan Lucic was standing right next to him, close enough that he could smell the faint scent of soap coming from his skin. No cologne.
Son. Of. A. Bitch.
“Wanna get a drink?”
Of course, Jeff just happened to look up just in time to see Lucic tug on his lower lip with his teeth. And he’d be damned if that didn’t send a jolt of interest straight to his dick.
“Uh, um, I-” he started. Thankfully, Lucic, Sorry- Milan, held up his hand.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
Making his way to the door, Milan pulled it open and gently put his hand in the small of his back. Jeff felt a small blush creeping up his face like he was a damn virgin bride.
They found a table in the darkest corner, as far away from the wailing karaoke speakers as humanly possible. If Jeff was worried about being recognized, then Milan was practically a shining beacon screaming, “Look at me!” Fortunately, people either didn’t notice or didn’t care and with the exception of the waitress coming by to take their orders, they were left alone.
“You know I’m underage, right?” Jeff asked, fingers prying at plastic menu. He tried to avoid looking directly across at Milan, but it was hard.
Milan’s response was to laugh softly, “You know who you’re with, right? Drink your beer, Skinner. No one’s going to tell mommy on you here.”
He took the glass in his hand, about to bring it to his lips when he realized that Milan was holding his own glass over the center of the table. Oh. Their glasses knocked together and Milan winked at him for the second time, causing Jeff to nearly choke on the first sip of his beer.
Well that’s just great. Way to show him what a pro you are at this, Skinner.
“Talk to me,” Milan said, setting his glass down, “Tell me something about yourself.”
Jeff found himself at a loss, so he simply said the first thing that popped into his head- “Well, I like hockey. I mean, of course I like hockey, but you know- I like watching it too, sometimes. For a long time I wanted to do figure skating instead- silly, I know- but hockey just sort of happened and-”
He realized he was rambling and cut himself off, taking the moment to take a long drink and he tried to ignore the way Milan was leaning across the table, mouth curved into a smile and eyes just about sparkling. There was no way to tell if he was being made fun of or if Milan was actually enjoying this and it was frustrating.
“Don’t stop.”
Well, that was an answer.
Jeff talked for a while more, about what it was like to leave school and how his first full season just kind of exploded his entire life- how he doesn’t have time for anything other than hockey anymore and it’s weird that so many people like him and and he’s on television now, right alongside the big names like Staal and Ovechkin and Crosby.
“I know I’m not nearly as good as them yet, but I’m trying,” Jeff told Milan, drinking off the rest of his beer and sliding the empty glass to the end of the table. He was a little tipsy, not really used to drinking on an empty stomach and he knew it was loosening his tongue. “And Eric’s been really great to me too. I thought he was a jerk at first but-”
“I don’t wanna hear about him,” Milan interrupted, brow furrowing. “You’re with me, remember?”
You’re with me.
With me.
“Yeah, sorry.” Jeff couldn’t shake the feeling that he had maybe bitten off a little more than he could chew with this one. “Tell me something about you, it isn’t fair if I sit here talking all night.”
Milan’s grin widened, white teeth catching the light a little and he looked like a wolf. Or a tiger, or anything predatory, really.
“You really want to stay here all night? Because I had something else in mind.”
Jeff didn’t have a chance to react- a shift in his peripheral vision made him turn his head and hello, Captain Eric Staal, in the flesh.
“Eric! I-” He scrambled to get out of the booth, away from Milan and he didn’t even think about the fact that there were several empty glasses sitting on the table at this point. “It isn’t what you think, we’re-”
“Lucic.” Eric growled. “Wanna tell me what you think you’re doing?”
The way Milan stretched back in the booth, long arms raising above his head, made his shirt ride up and Jeff was trying really, really hard not to stare because now that he was standing, it was like all the alcohol went straight to his head and he never realized how tall Eric was.
Like really, really tall. Same height as Milan, but lankier- more slender.
“I think,” Milan started, “I’m trying to keep your girlfriend out of trouble. Wouldn’t want her to get lost or anything.”
Jeff scowled at Milan from behind Eric, but the captain just laughed it off.
“Not sure I believe that, about the trouble.”
“You should. I don’t think either of us want a problem, if you know what I mean.”
If Eric had hackles, they’d be prickling up ten ways from Tuesday. Jeff glared over Eric’s shoulder and shook his head, pointing at the door and then back to Eric. It might have made sense to someone, somewhere, but Milan just tilted his head quizzically, mouthing the word ‘What?’ in response.
“Take a seat, I’ll buy you a beer,” Milan offered instead, ignoring the exasperated look Jeff shot at him, “I can take care of you too, if you’re interested.”
Jeff blanched.
But it turned out that Milan knew what he was doing because Eric shook his head, “No thanks.”
Eric insisted on pulling Jeff aside before heading out, reminded him, “You’ve got my number, call if you need me.” And then Eric hugged him, pressed his mouth to Jeff’s forehead and patted him affectionately on the rump before heading out.
Watching Eric leave put a note of discord in the back of Jeff’s mind- the last thing he wanted was to disappoint his captain. But he didn’t seem to have a problem with this so...
“What do you say we get out of here?”
Milan’s hand came to rest on Jeff’s hip, curling into his side. His thumb slipped under Jeff’s thin shirt and rubbed small circles along his skin. The alcohol made the sensation more intense that it really should have been and Jeff arched into it.
“Got something in mind?”
The heat of Milan’s body pressed against Jeff’s and for the first time that night, Jeff could actually feel him- the knotted muscle of his chest and abs, the drag of his lips along his neck.
“I was thinking we could go back to my place and play it by ear,” Milan murmured, “If you think your beloved captain won’t mind.”
Jeff nearly forgot they were in a bar and caught himself at the very edge of what would have been a very, very embarrassing moan.
“Sounds like a plan to me.”
...
[ Hockey Card Archive ]