FIC: 2UP (Zac Dalpe/Anthony Stewart (Carolina Hurricanes), 2100 words, R-rated)
Title: 2UP
Pairing: Zac Dalpe/Anthony Stewart
Word Count and Rating: 2170 words, R
Notes: For pass-shoot-porn, on
just_katarin's prompt of "Second Chances". Thanks to doctor_denmark for checking this over for me and being the most reassuring of humans. <3 Anthony Stewart's couch is totally fictionalised here, because I have scrolled through all of the twitter in the world and do you think I could find that photo again? Fuck no. Oh well. :D?
Summary: Video games, beer and flirting with Anthony Stewart. There's a lot of reasons Zac Dalpe's gonna miss Raleigh.
* * *
"So. We should fuck," Zac says, and Anthony blinks because that's not at all what he was expecting to hear. They're in the middle of a Super Mario tournament, for fuckssake.
"Say what?" he says, because sure, he's been flirting with the kid, but from what he can see the kid flirts indiscriminately with everyone, like it's just for fun and not like it actually means anything. Which is cool, Anthony can get behind that.
Zac shrugs, and rolls onto his back on the couch, hitting the pause button and letting the controller drop, looking up at Anthony. He's leaning over with a fresh beer in each hand, the one he'd been about to hand over dripping condensation, and the couple of seconds it takes for him to work through the shock turn into a neat semicircle of damp marks on Dalpe's t-shirt. He doesn't seem to notice, though.
"I'm getting sent back to Charlotte tomorrow," Zac says, "so who knows when we'll get another chance."
"Is this your version of the Top Gun speech? Because it's the AHL, not fucking, I don't know, who were they even fighting? I don't think it's exactly a lose-you-forever situation."
Okay, it's also possible he's been watching the same reruns on AMC as Dalpe, but never let it be said he's not going to roll with the punches. So to speak.
"But you want to, right?" Zac's still looking up at him, eyes wide and guileless as he sprawls on Anthony's couch.
Anthony doesn't bother pretending like he's not watching the way that Zac's shirt is riding up around his ribs or the careless way his legs are spread, ankles hanging off the end of the sectional.
"Maybe," he says, and pops the cap off his beer, taking a long drink. "You really want to talk about this now?"
Zac tries to pout, sitting up again with his legs tucked under him and his back to the TV. He reaches over and snags the other beer out of Anthony's hand, taking a healthy swallow.
"Not really," he says. "I didn't think talking was exactly our strong point, so I figured we could just move straight to blowjobs and then you could drive me to the airport tomorrow."
There's probably logic in there somewhere, but it's escaping Anthony right now. Not that he really needs the logic.
"Wait, so first you want me to go down on you, and then get up at the buttcrack of dawn to drive your ass around? You're not selling this one real well, Dalpe."
Zac licks his lips, and then reaches behind himself to drop his beer onto the coffee table, not looking away from Anthony.
...he only just manages to not knock it over, but Anthony's a nice guy, he's not going to mention that, and it's not like he didn't get pretty shitty carpet downstairs for a reason.
"Come on, man," Zac says, kneeling up, and this time he gets his fingers curled around Anthony's forearm, tugging him closer.
Anthony might have twenty-some pounds on him, but 'willing' does a lot of the extra work there, and the back of the couch isn't all that high anyway. He climbs over -- smooth, totally smooth, Zac isn't snickering at all, and even if he was it's not for long -- and shoves Zac back down flat onto his back.
It's something of a scramble for a minute -- Zac doesn't seem to know what he should be doing with his legs, and Anthony's happy to solve that problem for him by kneeling over top of his thighs, resting back on his heels, and by the time no one's in danger of falling off the couch any more they're both breathing a little hard.
"I knew this was a good idea," Zac says, and smug's a good look on him.
"Lot of talk, not much action," Anthony says, shifting deliberately, enough to know just how into this Zac is. "So why now?"
"Merry Christmas?" Zac tries, and starts untucking Anthony's shirt.
"Still a couple days away," Anthony says, and starts unbuttoning Zac's jeans. "And you got me video games. Thanks again, by the way."
"Uhh, early birthday present?" Zac says, and gives up on subtle, just shoving his hands down the back of Anthony's pants, groping his ass and pulling him closer.
"You'll probably be back up here again by then anyway," Anthony's compelled to point out, not even sure why he's still talking, but he's not going to be the last one to shut up, that's for damn sure. "You know they'll probably call you back before the New Year."
"Never know," Zac says, but he doesn't look as upset as he might have done.
He keeps telling anyone who'll listen that he's okay with pinballing between Charlotte and Raleigh the way he has been this season, and Anthony actually believes it. The kid's too cheerful for it to be otherwise, and he's so fucking excited to be playing in the NHL that it's contagious. Okay, so Anthony's only really got a couple seasons on him there anyway, but it's definitely one of the reasons he likes spending time with him.
What he's doing with his hands right then is rapidly overtaking that as Anthony's number one reason to hang out with him though, because fuck, that feels good.
"Uh huh," Anthony says, but then he has to move, because both of them need to be more naked for this; he's too damn old to fuck around in jeans and sweats. Thank god the couch is leather, too, because he's sure as shit not going to be bothering to make it upstairs to a bed. Not any time soon, anyway.
"I mentioned I put out on the first date, right?" Zac is saying. "You don't have to take this so slow."
"Your hand was just on my dick and we haven't even kissed yet," Anthony points out, quite rationally. "And shut up, I'm taking your pants off now." He's already dealt with his own, and it's not like Zac's not getting an eyeful. And enjoying it, if the extremely obvious hard-on in his briefs is anything to go by.
"Awesome," Zac says, and wriggles, and nearly kicks him in the knee, totally counterproductively. Someone needs to cool off a little, and it's not Anthony.
"You could be more helpful," he says, yanking Zac's jeans over his ankles, finally, and then crawling between his legs. He gets his hands on his hips and yanks him up so that Zac's wrapping his legs around Anthony's waist, and then he leans in, letting their combined weight sink back into the couch as he goes for a kiss.
The dick-on-dick part of the move goes awesomely.
The making out part is less spectacular, because Zac tries to tilt his chin up, anticipating, and Anthony knocks his chin into Zac's teeth, and they both flinch back with instinctive "Ow!" and "Fuck!"s.
"That went better last time," Anthony says, rubbing his chin -- they didn't draw any blood, which means it basically doesn't count.
"Yeah, until Skins barged in. Happy Hallowe'en to everyone," Zac agrees. "So let's just do this now and not actually wait another month where we pretend nothing happened when we could be getting laid."
"You still don't think he saw anything?" Anthony asks, although he's less interested in the answer now because Zac has a hand on his hip and it's sliding around and over his abs. That one could go north or south and Anthony's happy either way. He rocks his hips forward just a little, encouraging, and Zac hisses and bites his lip.
"He was blitzed," Zac says after a second, and oh hey, he picked south. Awesome. "I don't think he saw anything but his bed and the bathroom."
"I would've tried again," Anthony says, in the interests of fairness, and also because he has approximately two minutes of coherancy left anyway, "but I thought you were just drunk and flirting with everyone."
"Nope," Zac says sunnily. "Only guy I wanna play doctors and nurses with is you."
"Oh god, were you saving that?" Anthony asks, after a second, his own hands twitching as he takes that comment in. "That's terrible. I think you just ruined twitter. And fuck you, I'm not wearing a nurses outfit. Ever."
"I bet someone would photoshop that," Zac says, thoughtfully; way too thoughtfully for someone who's got a guy Anthony's size on top of him. He's clearly going to have to work harder.
"You're not that dumb," Anthony says, and wraps his hand around Zac's dick, circling his thumb just under the head, rubbing just hard enough to make him gasp and shut up.
"You mentioned blowjobs?" he adds a few minutes later, when he's got finger-shaped bruises starting to form on his biceps, and Zac's a panting wreck under him, his hair starting to go darker blond with sweat and his face flushed obviously pink.
"Get me off first," Zac tries to bargain, but he's not particularly threatening when he's wearing full gear on the ice; there's no way he can get there when he's naked and moaning every other word. Which isn't to say that Anthony's not enjoying every second of this.
"Mmm," Anthony says, and leans in to kiss him again, and this time they line it up properly. It's hot and wet and exactly what Anthony wanted, and he keeps stroking Zac the whole time, just this side of enough.
"Okay, seriously," Zac says, one hand still firmly anchored on Anthony's upper arm and the other around the back of his neck, fingers rubbing over the skin and pushing up to his hairline. "I'll blow you tonight and tomorrow, just- let me come, c'mon, please."
"Deal," Anthony says, because shit, that's not exactly a bargain he has to think all that hard about, even though it's not like he doesn't plan on reciprocating.
He tightens his hand around Zac's dick, just enough, and shifts his weight again so that they're pressed closer together, so he's getting more friction himself, letting them move. Zac doesn't take all that much longer to come, and Anthony's probably going to give him shit for that later, too; it's not like he's not old enough to drink both sides of the border already, for fuckssake.
But then again, maybe not. Apparently Zac's one of those guys who gets a little more buzzed when he comes, because he doesn't take more than a couple of breaths to recover enough to shove Anthony away and onto his back, and if he's half as good at giving head as he is at running his mouth in other situations then Anthony'll take that trade happily.
"Pull my hair and I'll bite," Zac says, which is, okay, just asking for it, so Anthony tugs at a few strands of hair just behind Zac's ear, and earns himself a hard enough bite on the inside of his thigh that he curses and jumps.
Zac doesn't fool around after that, though, just gets himself settled between Anthony's legs, squirming around so that he's balanced on his elbows comfortably. He's straight from go to whoa there; gets a hand around Anthony's dick to guide himself and gets his mouth right on. He sucks hard and fast, and he's definitely done this before, because Anthony's too busy reminding himself he's not an eighteen year old anymore either to actually do much to chirp him.
The way his ass is sliding uncomfortably on the leather of the couch helps to distract him some, but it's not enough to offset the visual, and watching Zac's head bob up and down while he enthusiastically sucks Anthony's dick combines spectacularly with feeling Zac enthusiastically suck his dick and frankly, he thinks he's doing pretty good to be able to warn him to pull off in time.
Zac sits up enough to finish him off with his hand, and Anthony doesn't even care that he wipes his hand off on what he's pretty sure was his shirt. That's what he has a washing machine for, right?
"Uh oh," Zac says a few minutes later, after they've disentangled enough to reach down to the carpet to try and find clothing, although getting off the couch still seems like it might be altogether too much effort. He's leaning awkwardly down into the space between the couch and the coffee table, and his shoulders have gone noticeably tense.
"What?" Anthony asks, because that can't be a good sign.
"I think there's... beer on your Nintendo remote," Zac says after a second.
He sits back up again, and this time narrowly avoids kneeing Anthony in the kidneys. Anthony's still feeling pretty zen about things. God knows the console's seen worse.
Zac sucks his thumb, makes a face, and then grins down at Anthony again. "Okay, yeah. Definitely beer."
"Please tell me you didn't lick my NES controller," Anthony says, not actually sure how he feels about that.
"So," Zac says brightly, still naked, perched on Anthony's increasingly messed up couch, his shirt and underwear crumpled up in one hand. "How do you feel about round two?"
* * *
Also on the AO3 here!
This entry also posted at dreamwidth.
comments/ view comments at dreamwidth.
Pairing: Zac Dalpe/Anthony Stewart
Word Count and Rating: 2170 words, R
Notes: For pass-shoot-porn, on
just_katarin's prompt of "Second Chances". Thanks to doctor_denmark for checking this over for me and being the most reassuring of humans. <3 Anthony Stewart's couch is totally fictionalised here, because I have scrolled through all of the twitter in the world and do you think I could find that photo again? Fuck no. Oh well. :D?
Summary: Video games, beer and flirting with Anthony Stewart. There's a lot of reasons Zac Dalpe's gonna miss Raleigh.
* * *
"So. We should fuck," Zac says, and Anthony blinks because that's not at all what he was expecting to hear. They're in the middle of a Super Mario tournament, for fuckssake.
"Say what?" he says, because sure, he's been flirting with the kid, but from what he can see the kid flirts indiscriminately with everyone, like it's just for fun and not like it actually means anything. Which is cool, Anthony can get behind that.
Zac shrugs, and rolls onto his back on the couch, hitting the pause button and letting the controller drop, looking up at Anthony. He's leaning over with a fresh beer in each hand, the one he'd been about to hand over dripping condensation, and the couple of seconds it takes for him to work through the shock turn into a neat semicircle of damp marks on Dalpe's t-shirt. He doesn't seem to notice, though.
"I'm getting sent back to Charlotte tomorrow," Zac says, "so who knows when we'll get another chance."
"Is this your version of the Top Gun speech? Because it's the AHL, not fucking, I don't know, who were they even fighting? I don't think it's exactly a lose-you-forever situation."
Okay, it's also possible he's been watching the same reruns on AMC as Dalpe, but never let it be said he's not going to roll with the punches. So to speak.
"But you want to, right?" Zac's still looking up at him, eyes wide and guileless as he sprawls on Anthony's couch.
Anthony doesn't bother pretending like he's not watching the way that Zac's shirt is riding up around his ribs or the careless way his legs are spread, ankles hanging off the end of the sectional.
"Maybe," he says, and pops the cap off his beer, taking a long drink. "You really want to talk about this now?"
Zac tries to pout, sitting up again with his legs tucked under him and his back to the TV. He reaches over and snags the other beer out of Anthony's hand, taking a healthy swallow.
"Not really," he says. "I didn't think talking was exactly our strong point, so I figured we could just move straight to blowjobs and then you could drive me to the airport tomorrow."
There's probably logic in there somewhere, but it's escaping Anthony right now. Not that he really needs the logic.
"Wait, so first you want me to go down on you, and then get up at the buttcrack of dawn to drive your ass around? You're not selling this one real well, Dalpe."
Zac licks his lips, and then reaches behind himself to drop his beer onto the coffee table, not looking away from Anthony.
...he only just manages to not knock it over, but Anthony's a nice guy, he's not going to mention that, and it's not like he didn't get pretty shitty carpet downstairs for a reason.
"Come on, man," Zac says, kneeling up, and this time he gets his fingers curled around Anthony's forearm, tugging him closer.
Anthony might have twenty-some pounds on him, but 'willing' does a lot of the extra work there, and the back of the couch isn't all that high anyway. He climbs over -- smooth, totally smooth, Zac isn't snickering at all, and even if he was it's not for long -- and shoves Zac back down flat onto his back.
It's something of a scramble for a minute -- Zac doesn't seem to know what he should be doing with his legs, and Anthony's happy to solve that problem for him by kneeling over top of his thighs, resting back on his heels, and by the time no one's in danger of falling off the couch any more they're both breathing a little hard.
"I knew this was a good idea," Zac says, and smug's a good look on him.
"Lot of talk, not much action," Anthony says, shifting deliberately, enough to know just how into this Zac is. "So why now?"
"Merry Christmas?" Zac tries, and starts untucking Anthony's shirt.
"Still a couple days away," Anthony says, and starts unbuttoning Zac's jeans. "And you got me video games. Thanks again, by the way."
"Uhh, early birthday present?" Zac says, and gives up on subtle, just shoving his hands down the back of Anthony's pants, groping his ass and pulling him closer.
"You'll probably be back up here again by then anyway," Anthony's compelled to point out, not even sure why he's still talking, but he's not going to be the last one to shut up, that's for damn sure. "You know they'll probably call you back before the New Year."
"Never know," Zac says, but he doesn't look as upset as he might have done.
He keeps telling anyone who'll listen that he's okay with pinballing between Charlotte and Raleigh the way he has been this season, and Anthony actually believes it. The kid's too cheerful for it to be otherwise, and he's so fucking excited to be playing in the NHL that it's contagious. Okay, so Anthony's only really got a couple seasons on him there anyway, but it's definitely one of the reasons he likes spending time with him.
What he's doing with his hands right then is rapidly overtaking that as Anthony's number one reason to hang out with him though, because fuck, that feels good.
"Uh huh," Anthony says, but then he has to move, because both of them need to be more naked for this; he's too damn old to fuck around in jeans and sweats. Thank god the couch is leather, too, because he's sure as shit not going to be bothering to make it upstairs to a bed. Not any time soon, anyway.
"I mentioned I put out on the first date, right?" Zac is saying. "You don't have to take this so slow."
"Your hand was just on my dick and we haven't even kissed yet," Anthony points out, quite rationally. "And shut up, I'm taking your pants off now." He's already dealt with his own, and it's not like Zac's not getting an eyeful. And enjoying it, if the extremely obvious hard-on in his briefs is anything to go by.
"Awesome," Zac says, and wriggles, and nearly kicks him in the knee, totally counterproductively. Someone needs to cool off a little, and it's not Anthony.
"You could be more helpful," he says, yanking Zac's jeans over his ankles, finally, and then crawling between his legs. He gets his hands on his hips and yanks him up so that Zac's wrapping his legs around Anthony's waist, and then he leans in, letting their combined weight sink back into the couch as he goes for a kiss.
The dick-on-dick part of the move goes awesomely.
The making out part is less spectacular, because Zac tries to tilt his chin up, anticipating, and Anthony knocks his chin into Zac's teeth, and they both flinch back with instinctive "Ow!" and "Fuck!"s.
"That went better last time," Anthony says, rubbing his chin -- they didn't draw any blood, which means it basically doesn't count.
"Yeah, until Skins barged in. Happy Hallowe'en to everyone," Zac agrees. "So let's just do this now and not actually wait another month where we pretend nothing happened when we could be getting laid."
"You still don't think he saw anything?" Anthony asks, although he's less interested in the answer now because Zac has a hand on his hip and it's sliding around and over his abs. That one could go north or south and Anthony's happy either way. He rocks his hips forward just a little, encouraging, and Zac hisses and bites his lip.
"He was blitzed," Zac says after a second, and oh hey, he picked south. Awesome. "I don't think he saw anything but his bed and the bathroom."
"I would've tried again," Anthony says, in the interests of fairness, and also because he has approximately two minutes of coherancy left anyway, "but I thought you were just drunk and flirting with everyone."
"Nope," Zac says sunnily. "Only guy I wanna play doctors and nurses with is you."
"Oh god, were you saving that?" Anthony asks, after a second, his own hands twitching as he takes that comment in. "That's terrible. I think you just ruined twitter. And fuck you, I'm not wearing a nurses outfit. Ever."
"I bet someone would photoshop that," Zac says, thoughtfully; way too thoughtfully for someone who's got a guy Anthony's size on top of him. He's clearly going to have to work harder.
"You're not that dumb," Anthony says, and wraps his hand around Zac's dick, circling his thumb just under the head, rubbing just hard enough to make him gasp and shut up.
"You mentioned blowjobs?" he adds a few minutes later, when he's got finger-shaped bruises starting to form on his biceps, and Zac's a panting wreck under him, his hair starting to go darker blond with sweat and his face flushed obviously pink.
"Get me off first," Zac tries to bargain, but he's not particularly threatening when he's wearing full gear on the ice; there's no way he can get there when he's naked and moaning every other word. Which isn't to say that Anthony's not enjoying every second of this.
"Mmm," Anthony says, and leans in to kiss him again, and this time they line it up properly. It's hot and wet and exactly what Anthony wanted, and he keeps stroking Zac the whole time, just this side of enough.
"Okay, seriously," Zac says, one hand still firmly anchored on Anthony's upper arm and the other around the back of his neck, fingers rubbing over the skin and pushing up to his hairline. "I'll blow you tonight and tomorrow, just- let me come, c'mon, please."
"Deal," Anthony says, because shit, that's not exactly a bargain he has to think all that hard about, even though it's not like he doesn't plan on reciprocating.
He tightens his hand around Zac's dick, just enough, and shifts his weight again so that they're pressed closer together, so he's getting more friction himself, letting them move. Zac doesn't take all that much longer to come, and Anthony's probably going to give him shit for that later, too; it's not like he's not old enough to drink both sides of the border already, for fuckssake.
But then again, maybe not. Apparently Zac's one of those guys who gets a little more buzzed when he comes, because he doesn't take more than a couple of breaths to recover enough to shove Anthony away and onto his back, and if he's half as good at giving head as he is at running his mouth in other situations then Anthony'll take that trade happily.
"Pull my hair and I'll bite," Zac says, which is, okay, just asking for it, so Anthony tugs at a few strands of hair just behind Zac's ear, and earns himself a hard enough bite on the inside of his thigh that he curses and jumps.
Zac doesn't fool around after that, though, just gets himself settled between Anthony's legs, squirming around so that he's balanced on his elbows comfortably. He's straight from go to whoa there; gets a hand around Anthony's dick to guide himself and gets his mouth right on. He sucks hard and fast, and he's definitely done this before, because Anthony's too busy reminding himself he's not an eighteen year old anymore either to actually do much to chirp him.
The way his ass is sliding uncomfortably on the leather of the couch helps to distract him some, but it's not enough to offset the visual, and watching Zac's head bob up and down while he enthusiastically sucks Anthony's dick combines spectacularly with feeling Zac enthusiastically suck his dick and frankly, he thinks he's doing pretty good to be able to warn him to pull off in time.
Zac sits up enough to finish him off with his hand, and Anthony doesn't even care that he wipes his hand off on what he's pretty sure was his shirt. That's what he has a washing machine for, right?
"Uh oh," Zac says a few minutes later, after they've disentangled enough to reach down to the carpet to try and find clothing, although getting off the couch still seems like it might be altogether too much effort. He's leaning awkwardly down into the space between the couch and the coffee table, and his shoulders have gone noticeably tense.
"What?" Anthony asks, because that can't be a good sign.
"I think there's... beer on your Nintendo remote," Zac says after a second.
He sits back up again, and this time narrowly avoids kneeing Anthony in the kidneys. Anthony's still feeling pretty zen about things. God knows the console's seen worse.
Zac sucks his thumb, makes a face, and then grins down at Anthony again. "Okay, yeah. Definitely beer."
"Please tell me you didn't lick my NES controller," Anthony says, not actually sure how he feels about that.
"So," Zac says brightly, still naked, perched on Anthony's increasingly messed up couch, his shirt and underwear crumpled up in one hand. "How do you feel about round two?"
* * *
Also on the AO3 here!
This entry also posted at dreamwidth.
comments/ view comments at dreamwidth.