20 Halak - 02 : Storm
Title : Storm
Author : Russian Torque
Team/Pairing : Montreal Canadiens - Halak/Price
Words : ~1,400
Overall Rating/Warning : NC-17 - Explicit M/M
02 | storm | 04 april 2008The storm hits suddenly, a torrential downpour of icy, hard rain that sends Jaro and Carey running at a full pelt the seven blocks back to Jaro’s place.
Jaro scrambles through the front door first, his wet shoes slipping on the hardwood floor. He lands on his butt just as Carey slams the door closed behind him with a burst of chuckles.
“Oh shit, you okay?”Carey manages to snort out, grasping Jaro’s sopping wet sleeve to pull him to his feet. The shift in weight causes him to lose his own balance, however, and he ends up on the floor of the cramped hall right next to Jaro, almost in tears with laughter.
Jaro doesn’t look amused. He’s soaked to the skin, his shirt clinging to his chest and jeans heavy with water. “You say you check weather,” he grumbles, leaning down to wrestle with his shoes, “Said, ‘No Jaro, of course it not rain today. Walk to movie place great idea.’ Is your fault movie was late to begin with.”
Carey rolls his eyes, but he moves over to help Jaro with his other shoe.
“Well, it looked nice enough when we left,” Carey grumbles. He gets a glare in return. “At least we made it to the movie place and back.”
Once Jaro’s shoes are off, Carey sits back on his haunches and peels off his shirt. It lands with a splat when he tosses it to the side and then he goes to work on his belt, prying at the wet leather ineffectually with his fingers.
The sound of a second wet plot draws his attention back up to a now bare chested Jaro fumbling with his own clothing and the sight sparks the mischievous demon of lust in him. He slaps Jaro’s hands away, replacing them with his own to yank his belt out roughly. Jaro makes a sound of protest, but it melts into a sharp yelp when his bare skin makes contact with the cold floor.
Carey knows Jaro well enough to know he isn’t staying down without a fight, so he uses all the dirtiest tricks in the book to keep him where he is. His teeth find the delicate skin beneath Jaro’s ear and he nips down a little harsher than he should, leaving an angry red mark in his wake. His thigh is pressed up between Jaro’s legs, starting a gentle teasing sort of pressure there while he continues struggling with his belt buckle.
The reaction in Jaro is instant- the Slovakian goalie keens, clenching his fist in Carey’s hair and dragging his mouth up for a searing kiss. Carey’s mop of hair is dripping cold water all over both their faces, but neither of them particularly care at this point.
“Wanna fuck you right here,” Carey grits out between his teeth. He hoists Jaro’s thigh up to his hip with one hand to grind against him and Jaro’s cheeks flush red with arousal. “Take off your pants.”
It’s an order, not a request, and Jaro scrambles to get them off. His jeans are wet and sticking to his skin like something awful, but he manages to undress completely. By then, Carey’s finally got his belt off and he’s messing around with his wallet and mumbling under his breath.
“Carey,” Jaro breathes, “You take off pants too?”
The taller goalie shakes his head as he pulls a foil square from the inner folds of his wallet with a triumphant smirk. “Too much work,” he explains, resuming his former position between Jaro’s legs. He leans down for another kiss, his hands wandering down to Jaro’s hips to pull him onto his lap.
He takes a few minutes just to get Jaro comfortable because all they’ve got is a condom and the last thing Carey wants is to hurt him but the mere idea of leaving Jaro long enough to go find some form of lubrication makes him feel like he’s suffocating.
So he does the next best thing and slides two fingers into Jaro’s mouth, dipping them under his tongue and as far back as he can reach because he knows Jaro loves it. Once they’re thoroughly wet, he trails them down to Jaro’s hole, rubbing small circles against the tight pucker. When he presses both in at once, Jaro squirms against him with a whine.
“Good?” Carey asks.
Jaro doesn’t speak his response, simply nodding his head and letting his eyes fall closed while he adjusts to the stretch.
Carey rolls his hand slowly, pushing in to the second knuckle and back out until Jaro’s pressing against him wantonly. He uses his free hand to search around the floor for the condom and rips it open with his teeth. The sound makes Jaro’s slide open, tamed into an unreadable expression.
With some amount of hesitation, he slides his fingers out to roll on the condom and reposition himself. It isn’t nearly enough preparation, but Jaro isn’t arguing and Carey isn’t about to let up. He wants this too much to even think about stopping.
Jaro’s different than other people Carey’s had the pleasure of fucking. He keeps his eyes open and as he pushes into the slender Slovakian, they’re wide and liquid blue and just a bit too vulnerable for this to be just another fuck. They make Carey feel like he’s committing some grave skin, but it’s just too good to fight off temptation this time around.
Carey’s jeans chafe up against Jaro’s thighs every time he moves his hips and it’s probably going to leave some kind of rug burn-like rash from the friction. Jaro can be a little kinky sometimes though, so he doesn’t try to reposition himself.
He just buries his face in Jaro’s neck in an attempt to mask a pleasure filled moan, “You okay?”
It’s difficult to keep the pace from getting away from him, especially when Jaro rocks his hips against Carey’s enticingly. Being so deep inside his smaller lover is sensory overload every time, like forgetting how to breathe and every touch burns.
Jaro’s lips part in a gasping moan when Carey’s teeth find a particularly sensitive spot on his neck, blood rushing to his cheeks in a blush and all the muscles in his already tight body flex. It’s too much even for a lover as attentive as Carey and the Canadian speeds up his thrusts, one hand curling around Jaro’s thigh to find a better angle.
He finds what he’s looking for quickly and doesn’t lose it- the sight of Jaro unwinding, grinding against him wantonly is something Carey wants to burn in his mind forever along with those piercing blue eyes.
When he finally reaches between them with his free hand to palm Jaro’s length, he's silently thankful for deciding not to nail him from behind so he can watch the play of pleasure across Jaro’s features when he comes. It’s absolutely sinful- the way Jaro throws his head back and shouts Carey’s name, his hand darting out to clamp on Carey’s wrist and nails digging deep into his skin.
It’s enough to send Carey over the edge with a choked whimper because as much as he wants to make this last, the sensation of Jaro clenching around him is his undoing. Waves of pleasure rock his body and he seeks out Jaro’s mouth blindly, wanting to taste his lips until he finally goes limp with satisfaction. Then, he can do little more than simply collapse haphazardly, just barely managing to keep from crushing Jaro under his weight.
As romantic as fucking, completely soaked, in the hallway can be, Carey isn’t one for afterglow and he shoots Jaro a supremely cocky grin that makes the Slovak roll his eyes. He pulls out slowly, careful not to hurt Jaro, and ties off the condom, tossing it in the general direction of the package it came in before rolling over onto his back next to Jaro. It’s a cramped fit, but neither of them really cares.
“That was different,” Jaro rumbles when he’s finally able to speak again. He turns his head to look over at Carey whose eyes are already half-lidded from the exhaustion of both sprinting in the rain and the filthiest sex either of them have indulged in for a while.
He wasn’t expecting a response at this point, but Carey surprises him. “‘s good different,” he mumbles, “Next time we can do it on the porch.”
Jaro snorts in disbelief, but after watching Carey doze off for a few minutes, he gets the feeling that being with Carey means that just about anything is possible.
X x X x X
Other Parts :
[ 01 | breakdown | 07 oct 2009 ]
[ archive ]
X x X x X
Author : Russian Torque
Team/Pairing : Montreal Canadiens - Halak/Price
Words : ~1,400
Overall Rating/Warning : NC-17 - Explicit M/M
02 | storm | 04 april 2008The storm hits suddenly, a torrential downpour of icy, hard rain that sends Jaro and Carey running at a full pelt the seven blocks back to Jaro’s place.
Jaro scrambles through the front door first, his wet shoes slipping on the hardwood floor. He lands on his butt just as Carey slams the door closed behind him with a burst of chuckles.
“Oh shit, you okay?”Carey manages to snort out, grasping Jaro’s sopping wet sleeve to pull him to his feet. The shift in weight causes him to lose his own balance, however, and he ends up on the floor of the cramped hall right next to Jaro, almost in tears with laughter.
Jaro doesn’t look amused. He’s soaked to the skin, his shirt clinging to his chest and jeans heavy with water. “You say you check weather,” he grumbles, leaning down to wrestle with his shoes, “Said, ‘No Jaro, of course it not rain today. Walk to movie place great idea.’ Is your fault movie was late to begin with.”
Carey rolls his eyes, but he moves over to help Jaro with his other shoe.
“Well, it looked nice enough when we left,” Carey grumbles. He gets a glare in return. “At least we made it to the movie place and back.”
Once Jaro’s shoes are off, Carey sits back on his haunches and peels off his shirt. It lands with a splat when he tosses it to the side and then he goes to work on his belt, prying at the wet leather ineffectually with his fingers.
The sound of a second wet plot draws his attention back up to a now bare chested Jaro fumbling with his own clothing and the sight sparks the mischievous demon of lust in him. He slaps Jaro’s hands away, replacing them with his own to yank his belt out roughly. Jaro makes a sound of protest, but it melts into a sharp yelp when his bare skin makes contact with the cold floor.
Carey knows Jaro well enough to know he isn’t staying down without a fight, so he uses all the dirtiest tricks in the book to keep him where he is. His teeth find the delicate skin beneath Jaro’s ear and he nips down a little harsher than he should, leaving an angry red mark in his wake. His thigh is pressed up between Jaro’s legs, starting a gentle teasing sort of pressure there while he continues struggling with his belt buckle.
The reaction in Jaro is instant- the Slovakian goalie keens, clenching his fist in Carey’s hair and dragging his mouth up for a searing kiss. Carey’s mop of hair is dripping cold water all over both their faces, but neither of them particularly care at this point.
“Wanna fuck you right here,” Carey grits out between his teeth. He hoists Jaro’s thigh up to his hip with one hand to grind against him and Jaro’s cheeks flush red with arousal. “Take off your pants.”
It’s an order, not a request, and Jaro scrambles to get them off. His jeans are wet and sticking to his skin like something awful, but he manages to undress completely. By then, Carey’s finally got his belt off and he’s messing around with his wallet and mumbling under his breath.
“Carey,” Jaro breathes, “You take off pants too?”
The taller goalie shakes his head as he pulls a foil square from the inner folds of his wallet with a triumphant smirk. “Too much work,” he explains, resuming his former position between Jaro’s legs. He leans down for another kiss, his hands wandering down to Jaro’s hips to pull him onto his lap.
He takes a few minutes just to get Jaro comfortable because all they’ve got is a condom and the last thing Carey wants is to hurt him but the mere idea of leaving Jaro long enough to go find some form of lubrication makes him feel like he’s suffocating.
So he does the next best thing and slides two fingers into Jaro’s mouth, dipping them under his tongue and as far back as he can reach because he knows Jaro loves it. Once they’re thoroughly wet, he trails them down to Jaro’s hole, rubbing small circles against the tight pucker. When he presses both in at once, Jaro squirms against him with a whine.
“Good?” Carey asks.
Jaro doesn’t speak his response, simply nodding his head and letting his eyes fall closed while he adjusts to the stretch.
Carey rolls his hand slowly, pushing in to the second knuckle and back out until Jaro’s pressing against him wantonly. He uses his free hand to search around the floor for the condom and rips it open with his teeth. The sound makes Jaro’s slide open, tamed into an unreadable expression.
With some amount of hesitation, he slides his fingers out to roll on the condom and reposition himself. It isn’t nearly enough preparation, but Jaro isn’t arguing and Carey isn’t about to let up. He wants this too much to even think about stopping.
Jaro’s different than other people Carey’s had the pleasure of fucking. He keeps his eyes open and as he pushes into the slender Slovakian, they’re wide and liquid blue and just a bit too vulnerable for this to be just another fuck. They make Carey feel like he’s committing some grave skin, but it’s just too good to fight off temptation this time around.
Carey’s jeans chafe up against Jaro’s thighs every time he moves his hips and it’s probably going to leave some kind of rug burn-like rash from the friction. Jaro can be a little kinky sometimes though, so he doesn’t try to reposition himself.
He just buries his face in Jaro’s neck in an attempt to mask a pleasure filled moan, “You okay?”
It’s difficult to keep the pace from getting away from him, especially when Jaro rocks his hips against Carey’s enticingly. Being so deep inside his smaller lover is sensory overload every time, like forgetting how to breathe and every touch burns.
Jaro’s lips part in a gasping moan when Carey’s teeth find a particularly sensitive spot on his neck, blood rushing to his cheeks in a blush and all the muscles in his already tight body flex. It’s too much even for a lover as attentive as Carey and the Canadian speeds up his thrusts, one hand curling around Jaro’s thigh to find a better angle.
He finds what he’s looking for quickly and doesn’t lose it- the sight of Jaro unwinding, grinding against him wantonly is something Carey wants to burn in his mind forever along with those piercing blue eyes.
When he finally reaches between them with his free hand to palm Jaro’s length, he's silently thankful for deciding not to nail him from behind so he can watch the play of pleasure across Jaro’s features when he comes. It’s absolutely sinful- the way Jaro throws his head back and shouts Carey’s name, his hand darting out to clamp on Carey’s wrist and nails digging deep into his skin.
It’s enough to send Carey over the edge with a choked whimper because as much as he wants to make this last, the sensation of Jaro clenching around him is his undoing. Waves of pleasure rock his body and he seeks out Jaro’s mouth blindly, wanting to taste his lips until he finally goes limp with satisfaction. Then, he can do little more than simply collapse haphazardly, just barely managing to keep from crushing Jaro under his weight.
As romantic as fucking, completely soaked, in the hallway can be, Carey isn’t one for afterglow and he shoots Jaro a supremely cocky grin that makes the Slovak roll his eyes. He pulls out slowly, careful not to hurt Jaro, and ties off the condom, tossing it in the general direction of the package it came in before rolling over onto his back next to Jaro. It’s a cramped fit, but neither of them really cares.
“That was different,” Jaro rumbles when he’s finally able to speak again. He turns his head to look over at Carey whose eyes are already half-lidded from the exhaustion of both sprinting in the rain and the filthiest sex either of them have indulged in for a while.
He wasn’t expecting a response at this point, but Carey surprises him. “‘s good different,” he mumbles, “Next time we can do it on the porch.”
Jaro snorts in disbelief, but after watching Carey doze off for a few minutes, he gets the feeling that being with Carey means that just about anything is possible.
X x X x X
Other Parts :
[ 01 | breakdown | 07 oct 2009 ]
[ archive ]
X x X x X