Falling is Like This, Part IV
Title:: Falling is Like This
Author: speakingwosound
Pairing: Nick Leddy/Jeremy Morin
Rating: NC-17
Words: 24, 500
Summary: Nick Leddy is gay. He’s also on the brink of making it to the NHL. He thinks he’s reconciled these things. Until he meets Jeremy Morin.
Disclaimer: Not real, sadly.
A/N: Takes place between Rookie Development Camp in June and World Junior Champions in January. I’ve kept it mostly accurate, although I’ve fudged a bit on the types of players that show up at Rookie Development Camp. Just go with me for that, yeah?
Part I-III
Part Four. Regular Season. October-December, 2010. Chicago/Rockford, IL.
Nick is nervous as he stands on Jeremy’s doorstep in Rockford. Things had been great in Chicago, but, as he had suspected, Soupy had healed and Nick had gotten the call into Coach Q’s office this morning. They’d been very nice about it, flattered him, tried to sell Rockford as if Nick hadn’t known this was coming, hadn’t been planning on it all along.
It was all a bit quicker than he had expected, though. He had thought that he’d get a few hours to pack up, thank Duncan for housing him, say a quick good bye to the guys, but the coach in Rockford wants him to play in the game tonight. So Nick had made the short drive to Duncan’s while Duncs and Seabs were at practice, thrown his clothes into a couple of bags, and hopped onto the thruway.
And now, here he is, on Jeremy’s doorstep, completely unsure if he’s wanted and/or expected. There hadn’t been time to send him a text to say that he’s coming. There’d been no evidence over the last few weeks that he’s unwanted, but there hadn’t been a lot of evidence to the contrary, either.
They had been really good, in the beginning. They had texted often, called every few days. But, distance is hard and things got busy and the conversation slowed. It takes Nick a couple of days to answer texts, and about half the time when he calls, Jeremy sends him straight to voicemail. When they do talk, it’s pleasant and fun, so Nick knows that there are no hard feelings but, well, it’s hard when they’re so far apart. And he just doesn’t know how Jeremy will react to him being here, on his doorstep, with a black and red Blackhawks equipment bag and two suitcases.
He sighs and sucks it up and rings the doorbell.
“Coming, coming.” There’s some banging from inside, and then the door’s opening and Jeremy’s there. “Nick?”
“Hey.” Nick frowns. “Coach Peters didn’t tell you I was coming, did he?”
“Um, no?” Jeremy rubs his head, as if trying to remember if he’d forget something like that.
“Well, I’m, um, gonna be here for a while.” Nick glances at his luggage. “Mind if I stay here? At least ‘til I find my own place?”
“Ahh,” Jeremy shakes his head, before smiling at him and grabbing one of his suitcases. He doesn’t ask why he’s here, doesn’t ask what happened, just smiles at him as if he’s happy to see Nick. “Of course. Sorry, you surprised me.”
“Thanks.” Nick smiles back at him. “I really appreciate it.”
“I was just on my way to practice. Drop your bags and you can come with.”
“Cool.” Nick drops his things and throws his hockey bag in the back of Jeremy’s Forrester.
Introductions are less awkward than Nick had worried they’d be. He knows a lot of the guys from either rookie camp or training camp, and there’s less ribbing about being sent down than Nick had expected. Although, he supposes he should revise his theory, since they’re pretty much all in the same boat, having fun in Rockford while biding their time to get to the NHL. They all understand how this works, and it’s extremely rare to go directly from amateur to the NHL, unless, of course, you’re a superstar like Jonathan Toews or Patrick Kane, and it’s just not fair to be compared to them.
The day goes by quickly, and Nick is too busy adjusting to the pace of the AHL game and trying to fit in in the locker room to be worried about Jeremy. And he seems okay, taking some sort of pride in being the guy who knows Nick well enough to show him around. Jeremy scores a goal during the game, too, so he’s even happily chatting on the car ride back to his apartment.
“Um, I’m gonna show you your room, then I’m gonna take a shower, okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, sounds good.” Nick follows him down the hallway to the guestroom. It’s small, but there’s a bed and a dresser, and Nick takes the time to put his clothes away. It helps settle him, remind him that this is his new home, and the quicker he finds some equilibrium, the better.
He’s feeling okay, after a shower, and he pulls on a thin pair of sweats and a t-shirt before making his way to the living room. Jeremy is already there, dressed mostly the same way, curled into a corner of the couch with an Xbox controller in his hands. When he hears Nick come in, he pauses his game and turns.
“Find everything okay?”
“Yeah, um, amazingly. You’re all set up here.”
Jeremy blushes. “My mom visited in October. It was empty except for the TV, and she took my paycheck and set up the place. Couch, beds, things in the kitchen I’ve never seen before.”
Nick laughs, taking the other side of the couch. “My mom’d do the same thing.” He sits on the other controller and fishes it out. “Playing NHL11?”
“Yeah.” He blushes a bit. “I’m playing Toews.”
Nick laughs. He’s missed Jeremy. More than he’s allowed himself to admit. “Okay. Can I be Lidstrom?”
“Sure.” Jeremy quits his game and starts up a new one, an epic match between Chicago and Detroit that goes the equivalent of two playoff seasons and a fake Winter Classic. Jeremy wins, though it’s close.
Jeremy shuts down the game and fiddles with the controller in his lap. It’s late, way past midnight, and the silence is oppressive. Nick really wants to go to bed, but he doesn’t know how to do it without making the awkwardness worse, and he doesn’t want to do any damage that will prove irreparable later.
“Um-“ Jeremy glances at him, but he looks away quickly, his cheeks tinged read and his teeth worrying at that spot on his bottom lip. Nick’s too tired to hide what that does to him and he stares at the spot.
“Nick?”
“Fuck it,” Nick whispers, pushing his controller to the ground and stretching across the couch to kiss him. Jeremy sighs into his mouth, his entire body going limp under Nick’s. Nick slips a hand under Jeremy’s back, adjusting them so that they’re spread out along the couch, Nick’s knees on either side of Jeremy’s thigh, his erection brushing against Jeremy’s hip.
When Nick pulls away, resting his forehead against Jeremy’s shoulder as he pants for breath, Jeremy’s hands shake loose and hold tightly to Nick’s hips as if Jeremy can keep him there with just his fingertips. Jeremy presses up against Nick’s dick with his hip, sighing happily. “You still want me.”
“What?” Nick breathes deep, raising his head to look at Jeremy, and he’s shocked to see Jeremy’s eyes closed, a shy, awed expression on his face.
Jeremy opens his eyes slowly, languidly stretching beneath Nick. “It’s been weeks and, well, out of sight out of mind, you know?”
Nick shakes his head. He’s way too fucking worn out for this conversation. “No, I don’t, I - Jeremy?”
Jeremy frowns, bringing one of his hands up to caress Nick’s jaw. “You’ve been in Chicago, a star, and you’re an attractive guy. I’m sure there were plenty of men throwing themselves at you. I’d understand if-“ Jeremy swallows. “I’d understand.”
“I’m not a star.” Jeremy’s face falls and, right, that’s not the part that Nick’s supposed to be focusing on. He gathers his thoughts, leaning all his weight on his right arm so that he can run the other through Jeremy’s hair. “Hey, I didn’t, okay? I didn’t even think about it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” Nick ducks his head, his throat suddenly going dry and he licks his lips. This feels like a monumental conversation, one that they should have had a long time ago, and he really, really, doesn’t wanna fuck this up. “I couldn’t get you out of my head.” Jeremy shakes his head, but Nick just nods. “Yeah, you were all I thought about, I swear. You and hockey.”
Jeremy stares at him for a long, tense moment, and Nick can’t shake the feeling that this is a test of some kind and, after all that they’ve been through, if he doesn’t pass, he might just get thrown out on his ass for good. He holds still, nothing more than his thumb moving across Jeremy’s forehead, trying to tell him everything through his touch and his body and the fact that he’s here, now, and if he still doesn’t know what exactly it is that he’s promising Jeremy yet, he knows that he’s promising something.
It must work, somehow, ‘cause Jeremy loosens below him, sinking into the couch and gripping Nick’s hip, hard. He pulls Nick down, kissing him with something a little bit more than he has before, and, when they break apart to breath, Jeremy drops a hand down to cup Nick.
“I want you,” he whispers, grinning.
Nick’s mind melts. “Yes,” he hisses, pushing into Jeremy’s touch, humping his palm for a second until he can get his mind to work again. He presses their foreheads together, exhaling slowly. “Have you, um, have you ever-?”
Jeremy bites his lip and Nick drops his chin to lick that spot. Jeremy laughs, his cheeks flushed as he looks straight at Nick. “Yeah. A couple times, but, um, it’s been awhile?”
It’s a question and Nick just grins at him. “Okay, okay. Slow, good. Lube?”
“In the bedroom.”
Nick grins. “Your mom put that there, too?”
Jeremy blushes deeply, his whole neck going red until it disappears under his t-shirt, and he shoves at Nick to get him up and off the couch. “Fuck you,” he whispers, but he pulls Nick in for one more kiss once they’re sitting up and Nick just chuckles at him.
They race to the bedroom, laughing at making quick work of their clothes along the way. They’re both down to their underwear by the time they tumble onto Jeremy’s bed, and Nick settles himself between Jeremy’s thighs, sitting back on his heels and getting the chance to properly look at him for the first time.
They’re both still young, with lots of filling out to do, and most of their weight comes from height and not muscle. But they’re still hockey players, and Nick is transfixed by the way Jeremy’s taught stomach contracts with each breath.
“Nick?”
“Hmm?”
“Do something.”
“Right.” Nick grins at him, pressing forward for a kiss, before trailing his lips down Jeremy’s chest. He takes Jeremy’s left nipple between his teeth, squeezing tightly until Jeremy whines deep in his throat and Nick lets up, soothing the angry-red nub with his tongue.
His original intention was to tease every inch of Jeremy he can reach, but Jeremy is already writhing below him, and his own cock feels painful in his briefs, so he decides to adjust his plan.
“Lube?” Jeremy asks, and Nick nods.
Jeremy reaches for the bedside table, his long muscles stretching towards it, and Nick has to drop the heel of his hand hard into his own dick, willing himself to take a few steps back from the edge.
“Okay?” Jeremy asks as he settles back against the pillows, the lube and condoms in a pile next to him.
Nick groans, leaning down to kiss him. “I’m not gonna last too long this time.”
Jeremy grins, pressing up against him. “Get moving, then.”
“Pushy.” Nick nips at Jeremy’s lip before he settles back on his heels. He reaches for the waistband of Jeremy’s briefs, urging him to lift his hips so that Nick can pull the fabric off and drop it to the floor somewhere behind them.
Nick reaches up for the lube, making sure that Jeremy watches him coat his finger with it before taking Jeremy’s dick in his hand and giving it a couple of good, hard tugs. Jeremy’s eyes slip shut, a moan slipping past his lips, and Nick uses the moment to drop his finger and push it past the first wall of muscle.
Jeremy tenses for a moment, but Nick holds still, allowing Jeremy to adjust to the intrusion. Jeremy is tight and hot and Nick thinks of things like blocking shots and disallowed goals and the drive between Chicago and Rockford, until he’s sure that he’s not going to finish right now, long before they’re done.
Jeremy reaches for him, wrapping his fingers around Nick’s bicep and urging him forward. Nick opens his eyes, leaning up to kiss him, close-lipped, as he pushes his finger in. Jeremy’s breath hitches, but he doesn’t flinch away, and Nick bends his finger, stretching, pulling, until, without moving his lips away, he slips in a second one. This one is easier, Jeremy’s body already open and willing and the scissoring makes quick work of his muscles.
Nick sits back again, reaching for the lube and looking at Jeremy. “A third?”
“Yeah,” Jeremy breathes, adjusting the way he’s sitting on Nick’s fingers before sinking further into the pillows. Nick pulls his fingers back and pours a liberal amount of lube over them, before pushing three in. Jeremy tightens for a second, grimacing, and Nick frowns. It takes him a couple of minutes of twisting and scissoring before he finds the spot and Jeremy keens, his back arching up off the bed and his eyes slipping shut.
Nick keeps the angle, hitting it again and again, relentless, and Jeremy’s body twists in his arms, a thick layer of sweat gathering on his chest as he pants and breathes out, “Stop, stop. Nick-“
“Okay,” Nick pulls back, caressing Jeremy’s sides with his messy fingers, urging him to slow and relax. “I’m here.”
“God, Nick, that was, fuck. I had forgotten - Jesus, what’s your dick gonna feel like?” Jeremy opens his eyes and the question is so innocent at this moment that Nick chuckles.
He scoots back just long enough to pull his own briefs to the ground before grabbing a condom and the lube and spreading it liberally over himself. He lifts Jeremy’s calves to his shoulders and presses forward. “Okay?”
Jeremy’s eyes are half-lidded as he glares up at him. “Yes, fuck, do it.” Nick can’t really tell what mix of arousal and fear it is, but he’s too far gone to make any other allowances than to go slow as he pushes into Jeremy’s body. It opens for him, tight and hot and, fuck, almost more than Nick is prepared for.
It’s not particularly good. They’re both nineteen years old, relatively inexperienced, and after months of wanting each other this way, it was never meant to last long. But, Nick’s fingers dig deep bruises into Jeremy’s thighs, and Jeremy’s drops a hand over his eyes as Nick pounds into him, and it’s the best they’ve ever had.
Nick can barely hear anything over the rush of blood in his ear, but he’s determined to hear that keening sound again. He twists his hips and yes, there it is, Jeremy’s entire body going still under him as he arches off the bed, wrapping his arms around Nick’s neck and pulling him down for a hot, wet, kiss.
“Please, please, please,” he whispers into Nick’s mouth, and Nick shifts his weight onto one hand so that he can drop the other between their bodies. It only takes a couple of tugs and Jeremy spills over their chests, Nick’s name on his tongue as he holds on tightly to Nick’s back.
Nick holds him, kissing along his jaw and keeping up a steady rhythm with his hips. Jeremy groans, pressing his hands to Nick’s lower back and urging him forward until Nick stills, pumping deep and long, biting down on Jeremy’s lip as he moans out his name.
Nick turns his head to kiss Jeremy as he eases away, helping Jeremy’s legs fall loosely to the bed. Nick stumbles up, disposing of the condom and grabbing a washcloth from the bathroom. When Nick returns, Jeremy has already turned back the covers, and Nick cleans them quickly before throwing the cloth to join the pile of clothes on the ground, and slips into bed.
“We need to do that again,” Nick sighs, curling up behind Jeremy and pulling him tight.
“As many times as we can,” Jeremy breathes.
***
They hold true to Jeremy’s wish. In the month after Nick arrives in Rockford, they settle into a good routine. A routine that mostly consists of hockey, pizza, beer, Xbox, and sex, but a routine none-the-less. Nick never moves out of Jeremy’s apartment and, if anyone asks, he says he’s just staying in the extra room. It sounds economical, with their salaries, to be saving money with a roommate. Everyone’s kind enough not to point out that rent in Rockford, IL isn’t exactly steep.
They also make a concerted effort to hang out with the team. Not only to defray any possible hints as to the real nature of their relationship, but also because Rockford is beginning to feel like home and Nick’s starting to feel like he wouldn’t mind spending a couple of years here. It’s a nice town, a good group of guys, and he feels himself getting stronger, both mentally and physically, every game he plays.
The weather’s starting to change as November sets in. Flurries are in the air, but Nick’s still holding out on wearing a jacket, as if maybe he has a chance of holding out longer than the Mid-West winter. He does give in to Jeremy, though, by pulling his Rockford hoodie on over his t-shirt before they get into the car and make their way over to Beach’s.
The thing about Rockford is that over half the team is still under-aged, and even though they could find a bar willing to look the other way, the Rockford media tends to treat the team like the up-and-coming stars that they are. Beach always seems to have a solution to the problem, though, with an endless supply of alcohol that no one bothers to question. They just nickname his house The Speakeasy and it’s an unspoken rule that, whenever they have a couple days off between games, the guys all head over there.
“Let’s make it an early night, yeah?” Jeremy stops at a light and looks over at Nick.
Nick raises an eyebrow. “Why?”
Jeremy grins and turns back to the road. “No reason.”
“You’re such a fucking liar.” The light turns green and Nick reaches his hand over to rest on Jeremy’s knee. “Have other plans?”
Nick’s hand inches up his thigh and Jeremy’s breath hitches. “Nick-“
“Yeah?”
Jeremy takes a hand off the wheel to cover Nick’s and keep it from roaming further. “Just a couple hours, okay?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Nick grins, taking his hand back as they pull up in front of Beach’s place.
Beach’s just renting the house, hoping, like they all are, that their Rockford residency will prove short-lived, so it’s sparsely furnished. But half the team is already here, hanging around the couches drinking beers and cheering on an Xbox tournament.
“Leddy, Mo.” Beach meets them at the door, squeezing both their shoulders. “Good. We need you.”
“What?”
“We’re getting killed.”
Nick looks over at the couch and Brian Connelly ushers him over. “Leddy, good.” Nick leaves Jeremy with a quick shoulder squeeze at the doorway and takes the beer Brian hands him. “I need you on my team.”
“Who’re we playing?”
“We’re reenacting the Eastern Conference playoff series. We need you to play Mike Green.”
Nick takes the controller and squeezes onto the couch between Brian and Igor Makarov. “I playing Ovie. I am terrible.”
Nick laughs, clicking through the options and setting up his player. Jeremy takes up a seat at the other end of the couch, accepting a controller and setting up as a forward on the rival Montreal Canadiens.
Nick grins at him. “Think you’ll make a better Canadien than a Blackhawk?”
Jeremy flips him off. “If you do Green better than you do Lidstrom.”
Nick laughs and focuses in on the game. He’s downed two beers before he realizes that Jeremy is gone, Brandon Pirri playing his controller. Nick doesn’t think much of it. Jeremy hadn’t been playing all that well, and the guys tend to be just as competitive about Xbox hockey as they are about real hockey, so Nick just assumes that Jeremy called it a loss and is skulking outside with a basketball or something.
“Nick.” Nick feels a hand on his arm and he glances at Jeremy out of the corner of his eye.
“Hey, I’m almost done with this game. Wait a sec?” Nick asks, not taking his attention away from his animated player.
“We’ve gotta go.”
Nick is utterly focused, otherwise he would have taken head of the tone in Jeremy’s voice. “Can’t. We’re playing a tournament.”
“I know, but, Nick -”
“Just a little bit, okay? We only got here an hour ago.” Nick presses down hard and scores, throwing his hands into the air. “Plus, I’m winning.”
“I really have to go.”
Igor pauses the game and looks at them. “I will drive Nick home. Later. If he not want leave.”
Jeremy pauses, and Nick finally turns to look at him, really look at him, and he feels like the absolute worst boyfriend ever. “No, no, it’s okay. Pots can take my place.” He climbs over the back of the couch, handing his controller over to Potulny and dragging Jeremy out of the house.
“I’m sorry, I just-” Jeremy stops at the bottom of the porch steps, digging his hands into his pockets.
“Hey,” Nick takes a step closer, aware of their entire team on the other side of the windows. “What happened?”
Jeremy looks down at his feet. “I’ve been called up.”
“What?”
“I got the call, a few minutes ago.”
“Jeremy, that’s great.”
“Is it?” Jeremy kicks at the frozen ground with his sneakers. “I mean, it is, of course it is, but-” He gestures between them and Nick sighs.
He’s not going to have this discussion here, where they have to talk in code and half-finished sentences. Last time they had a discussion of this magnitude, they had been worn out and exhausted on Jeremy’s couch, forced into it by circumstance, and even if that had ended well, Nick is determined to do it right this time.
“Give me the keys.”
Jeremy doesn’t argue as he hands them over. The ride is quiet, Jeremy with his head in his palm, staring out the window, and Nick rests his hand on Jeremy’s knee, squeezing. Jeremy puts his hand over Nick’s but he doesn’t do anything more than rest it there.
When they get home, Nick lets them in, going straight to the couch and pulling Jeremy down. Jeremy looks terrified, curling in on himself against the armrest, and biting his lip. Nick sighs. “You’re an idiot.”
Jeremy frowns. “I-”
Nick reaches for him, wrapping his fingers around Jeremy’s ankle. “Maybe I should have told you this a long time ago, but I honestly thought that you’d have it figured out by now.”
“What?”
Nick makes sure that Jeremy’s really paying attention before continuing. “I really like you. Have since the moment me met. And that means-” Nick caresses the inside of Jeremy’s ankle with his thumb, “that I don’t want anyone else. And if that means that we have to do the long distance thing for a while, well, that’s what iPhones and laptops are for.”
Jeremy lets his breath out with a loud, “Oh.”
“Yeah,” Nick nods. “You hadn’t figured that out yet?”
“I-” Jeremy swallows. “I was hoping, but-” he shrugs. “You didn’t ask me to wait last time.”
Nick shrugs. “We weren’t really anything yet, last time.”
Jeremy glances down at his hands. “I would have said yes, if you had asked.”
Nick freezes. It’s the first time Jeremy’s said something like that. Of course, Jeremy had waited for him, but Nick had never been sure whether it was on purpose, or whether it was more due to lack of options. This, knowing that Jeremy had made a choice, to wait it out, wait for him - Nick’s stomach flips.
“I’m sorry.” Nick whispers, wishing that there was more of Jeremy to touch than his ankle. “I should have, but, I didn’t know and I was - Well, all that matters is that I’m asking now. And I’m telling you that I’m with you, in every sense of the word.”
“Good.” Jeremy smiles, uncurling himself from the corner and kissing Nick, hands on both sides of his face. “Good, ‘cause I’m saying yes now, too.”
Nick grins. “You’re a romantic.”
Jeremy punches his shoulder. “Asshole. We were having a moment.”
Nick laughs, pulling him closer. “Yeah, yeah.” He rests their foreheads together. “You’re gonna do great in Chicago.”
And he means it, with everything he has, but, fuck, he’s going to miss him.
***
R u free 2day? @ 2?
Y. why?
Good. C u then.
Nick waits for another text, but it’s a pretty futile process. He knows by now to expect short, cryptic texts from Jeremy when he’s in the locker room or on the road or any other event that means that nosey teammates like Seabs and Kaner are around.
Giving up, Nick drops his phone to the coffee table and wanders into the kitchen. For the first few days after Jeremy had left, the apartment had felt big and foreign and echo-ey. Nick had considered getting his own apartment, or at least moving into the guestroom, but that had felt stupid. Even if Jeremy’s name is on the lease, Nick’s clothes take up half the drawers and at least a third of the closet space.
Nick’s started inviting the guys over, too. Jeremy had always been a little paranoid, as if any of their teammates are observant enough to realize that there are two toothbrushes in the master bathroom. Of course, in the ten or so days that Jeremy’s been gone, no one’s asked those questions, but Nick has a master plan anyway. One where he laughs it off and tells them that he didn’t waste a lot of time moving his things into the bigger bedroom the moment Jeremy was gone. Throw in a phrase like ‘while the body was still warm,’ a little self-deprecating humor, and it’d all be good.
Nick contemplates jerking off in the shower, but it was a hard practice and he can’t decide if he has the energy. Instead, he dries off quickly and crawls into bed with every intention of waking up long before 2 o’clock.
He doesn’t quite calculate the level of his tiredness, though, ‘cause he wakes to the incessant beeping of r u there? texts. He swears, kicking off the covers and pulling on a pair of sweats as he dives for the desk and signs on to Skype.
“Hey.” Nick runs a hand through his hair, trying to smooth it, but it’s pretty much a lost cause. “Sorry, I kinda overslept.”
“It’s okay.” All Nick can see is Jeremy’s face, but he looks shy and nervous and it’s been a while since Nick’s seen him like this. “If you wanna go back to sleep, I, um, I didn’t mean to wake you. We can do this later.”
Nick shakes his head, yawning widely. “No, no, I’m up now. What’s up?”
Jeremy fidgets, his face blushing furiously. “Well, I, ahh, I had an idea.”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t know if you’d be into it. I don’t know if I’m into it -” Jeremy stops, his whole face red, and Nick clues into what he’s talking about.
“You want to have video sex?” He blurts, and he didn’t really mean to sound so incredulous, but he would have bet his entire NHL career that Jeremy would never be the one to initiate this.
“No.” Jeremy pauses. “Well, yes, but it’s a terrible idea. Forget it. I’m sorry.”
“Jeremy, stop.” Nick takes a deep breath, letting it out to make sure that he’s done wanting to laugh. “Sorry I laughed. I just never figured you’d suggest it.”
Jeremy shrugs. “Sharpie and Abby are out for the afternoon, and I’m-” He stops, his whole face going even redder than before.
“Horny?” Nick supplies, and Jeremy looks horrified, before biting his lip and nodding. Nick grins. “Me too.”
Jeremy takes a deep breath. “Thank god. So this isn’t a terrible idea?”
“It’s a great idea.” And it is. The closest they’ve gotten to anything indecent lately is the naked picture Nick had sent to celebrate Jeremy’s first NHL goal. It was a nice gesture, he thought, except that he hadn’t taken into consideration the fact that Jeremy was probably out celebrating with the likes of Kaner, Seabs, Sharpie, and it had almost ended in disaster. Nick should know by now that the sexy, suave boyfriend is a role he was just never meant to play.
“Okay. Good. Um-” Jeremy bites his lip again. “How do we do this?”
Nick shrugs. “I don’t know.”
“Haven’t you done this before?”
“No. Have you?”
“No,” Jeremy practically squeaks, before putting a hand over his mouth and blushing.
Nick ignores him, glancing around and trying to figure out how best to work this. Nick doesn’t want this to look like some trashy porno, just hands slapping on skin and fake moans coming from disembodied heads somewhere off screen. But he also doesn’t want to just see Jeremy’s face and have to guess at what he’s doing by the way his left eyebrow twitches or something.
He finally settles on pushing his chair back a little bit and angling the computer. It’s not perfect, but at least they can see most of each other’s bodies and they’re not cut off at the neck. “This okay?”
“Yeah,” Jeremy breathes, pushing his chair into the same position and already sounding into it. Nick follows Jeremy’s eyes to where they’re staring at Nick’s bare chest. He hadn’t bothered putting a shirt on, and now he’s glad he hadn’t.
“Tell me what you want,” Nick urges.
Jeremy pauses, glancing around him and Nick has the insane urge to do the same, even though he lives alone now and no one could possibly be here. Finally, though, Jeremy settles in and says, his voice wavering a little, “Touch yourself, like I would.”
“Like this?” Nick asks, running a hand along his collarbone, down his bicep, before tweaking a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “Oh,” he breathes, arching up and almost letting his eyes slip closed.
“Yes,” Jeremy whispers, squirming in his seat and Nick nods at him.
“Take off your shirt.” Jeremy complies, pulling it over his head and throwing it away, somewhere beyond the realm of the computer screen. “I want you to rub yourself, through your pants. Yeah, like that.”
Nick mirrors the movements, dropping his own hand into his lap and pressing, hard. He moans, arching into it. He’s gotten pretty used to his right hand but, somehow, this feels different, better, good.
“I - I wanna see you.” Jeremy pants and Nick grins.
“Me too.” He lifts his hips, pulling his pants to the ground and Jeremy’s eyes widen for a moment, watching as Nick’s dick bounces against his stomach, a drop of pre-come already smearing across his abs. He doesn’t touch himself for a full minute, just stretching back in the chair and letting Jeremy look at him, until, of course, it starts feeling kinda weird and voyeuristic, and he wraps his hand around his dick in some attempt to cover it.
“Now you. Jeremy, please.”
“Right, right.” Jeremy smiles, that shy little smile that settles Nick and makes his stomach roll all at the same time. He’s really missed Jeremy’s body, and his mouth goes dry as Jeremy’s sweats and briefs hit the floor. His dick is only visible for a second, before Jeremy fists it, but Nick burns the moment into his mind.
“You’re- fuck, Jeremy, you’re so hot.”
Jeremy flushes, and, even through the computer, Nick can see that it travels all the way to his knees. “You, too.” Jeremy arches into his fist, dropping his head back and looking at Nick through half-lidded yes. “The things you do to me, Nick. I don’t know if you’ll ever - fuck.”
Nick moans. He can almost forget that he’s here, alone, when Jeremy’s here, invading all his senses, and Nick does forget that it’s his own hand tugging and pulling and when Jeremy comes, jerking into his own fist and calling Nick’s name, Nick tumbles right after.
“That was-” Nick smiles at him, slow, sated. “Jesus, Jeremy, that was the best idea you’ve ever had.”
“I try.” Jeremy laughs, blushing even after what they’ve just done, and Nick wouldn’t trade him in for anything.
“You better go, before Sharpie gets home and finds you like this.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Jeremy reaches out of the screen to grab his briefs, before returning and cleaning himself up. “Call me after your game?”
“Yes. Definitely.” Nick reaches over and turns off the computer. He knows he should clean up or something, but there’s still a couple of hours before he has to be at the rink, so he just stumbles over to the bed and falls instantly back to sleep.
***
Jeremy’s back in Rockford a few days before Christmas. He had been playing well, and rumors had been flying around about a long-term stay, perhaps into January and forcing him to miss his last World Junior Championships. On the phone, though, Jeremy had seemed unconcerned, just wanting to play his game and be the willing pawn. So, when Hossa, Kaner, and Tazer all get better and healed just before the holidays, Jeremy dutifully comes back to Rockford and happily settles back in.
In fact, it’s taking Nick longer to adjust than it is Jeremy. Not in a bad way, just in the little hint of surprise he gets every morning when he rolls over and Jeremy is there, mouth open, sleeping peacefully. Or in those moments, every once in a while, where it’s quiet and the apartment feels empty, and he looks over at the other end of the couch where Jeremy’s reading The Hockey News, and Nick has to reach out and touch his foot to remind himself that Jeremy’s really here.
Nick doesn’t wonder about any of these things this morning. He wakes up feeling good, like his life is on track and he’s exactly where he’s always wanted to be, even if nothing about this is where he had seen himself six months ago. It’s like Christmas morning when he was seven and his parents would make him wait upstairs until it was 7 o’clock, except that they aren’t here and Nick knows many pleasant ways to wake Jeremy up at 4 am that won’t leave him angry and grumpy.
Grinning, Nick ducks under the covers and kisses his way down Jeremy’s sleeping body, gently pushing on his hips ‘til he’s lying on his back. Nick waits a moment, making sure that Jeremy is still sleeping, before working Jeremy with his hands, slow, long tugs until Jeremy is hard.
Jeremy makes a little whine, his hips pushing closer to Nick, but Nick knows by now that Jeremy has a hard time discerning between dreams and realities when he’s in this half-way place between sleeping and waking, and Nick takes full advantage of his position, lowering his mouth and tonguing the head of Jeremy’s cock.
Nick takes his time. He rarely has the opportunity to go this slow, when their hormones are sleep-stunted and he can lick and nip every inch of Jeremy’s cock, taking notes of every moan and hitched breath it earns him. He spends an inordinate amount of time on the skin where Jeremy’s cock and balls meet, fascinated with the way the skin curls and bunches.
“Tease.” Jeremy’s voice is rough and when Nick looks up, Jeremy’s head is lifted slightly from the pillow, his hair tousled and his eyes groggy with the remnants of the sandman. If Nick was pressed, and only under sheer duress, he would have to admit that this moment is it, when Jeremy is the most beautiful to him, and he has to tamp down on the feelings threatening to spread too quickly through his body.
“Morning.” Nick murmurs, biting lightly at the little roll of skin under his mouth.
“You woke me up for this?”
“You want more?”
“Uh huh.”
Nick grins, rising on his elbow just enough to swallow Jeremy whole. Even after all these months, Jeremy isn’t expecting it, and his hands flutter to Nick’s head, tangling in the hair that Jeremy has convinced him to grow a little longer again.
Nick hollows his cheeks, slipping a finger in to caress along Jeremy’s cock, before he slips it, wet and slippery, behind Jeremy’s balls. He caresses along the tight ring of muscles, tantalizing circles until Jeremy arches his own hips and angles them so that Nick has no choice but to slip inside.
Jeremy groans, pulsing in Nick’s mouth and holding Nick down, fucking his mouth with that slow, early Christmas morning laziness that has Nick grinning around him and humming contentedly. This is so much better than the video games his parents used to leave outside his door, Santa scribbled on the tags, and meant as distractions until it’s late enough that normal people are willing and able to trudge downstairs to the real presents.
Jeremy grunts, urging Nick’s attention back to him, and Nick grins around his cock. He shifts on his elbow until he can get a better angle with his finger, taking Jeremy’s cock to the hilt and bending his finger to rub against his prostate. Jeremy shouts, his back bowing off the bed as he comes, deep and hot down Nick’s throat.
“Merry Christmas,” Nick whispers, moving up Jeremy’s body and kissing him, his mouth still warm and salty and Jeremy thrusts his tongue in, moaning in a half-hearted attempt to get it up again.
It’s actually a couple days before the actual holiday. With the World Juniors starting the 26th and both their parents wanting them home for the actual itself, Nick and Jeremy had made a pact to use this one, rare day off to have their own celebration, door locked, cell phones off, and no plans to get out of bed until they leave for the airport tomorrow morning. But when Jeremy lets his head fall back against the pillows, looking up at Nick with a blissed, happy grin, and murmurs, “Merry Christmas,” Nick gets the feeling again, the one he feels all the way down in his toes, and he vows to have Christmas before Christmas every year for the rest of his life.
The feeling’s a little too much, the way Jeremy’s looking at him a little overwhelming, and Nick clears his throat. “Want a present?”
“Do I have more than one?”
Nick raises an eyebrow. “Greedy bastard, eh?”
“No, it’s just, if I only have one, I can wait.” Jeremy backtracks quickly, and Nick rolls his eyes, leaning forward for a quick kiss. He leans over the side of the bed, shivering as the quilt drops to his lap and the cold air teases at his skin. He grabs the gaudily wrapped green and red box and drops it quickly into Jeremy’s lap before burrowing back under the quilt and rubbing his arms.
“Open it.”
Jeremy doesn’t have to be told twice, sitting up and ignoring the cold air as he tares into it. “You didn’t?” He laughs, a real, deep, down in his chest laugh. “You remembered.”
“That you wanted to live in Minnesota ‘cause you have an unhealthy obsession with The Mighty Ducks?” Nick raises an eyebrow. “Something like that’s kinda hard to forget.”
Jeremy turns it over in his hands to read the back and Nick leans forward to kiss his hip, the only part of him that he can reach while still laying down. “It’s the whole trilogy,” Nick offers. “Even the terrible second one where they have to play Iceland. As if Iceland produces good hockey players or something.”
Jeremy laughs, setting it aside and scooting down in the bed to kiss him. “Thank you.”
“You wanna watch one?”
“Now?”
Nick shrugs. “Sure. Although, I’d prefer the first. It’s the best.”
“But-” Jeremy stammers. “We’re naked.”
“So?”
“So, they’re like, eight in that movie. Isn’t that perverted?”
“I wasn’t planning on jacking off while watching it.” Jeremy blushes and Nick sits up. “Wait, wait, did you use to -? While watching-?”
“No, no.” Jeremy protests. “Well, sort of?” He tries to pull the quilt over his head, but Nick wrestles him for it, straddling Jeremy’s body so that he can’t get away.
“What do you mean, sort of?”
“It’s really embarrassing.”
“Even better.”
“Nick, please.” Jeremy squirms, but Nick holds tight and Jeremy finally gives up, closing his eyes as if, maybe, if he can’t actually see Nick, this will somehow be less bad. “My first crush was on Charlie. So, I’d, you know, imagine things, in the shower.”
Jeremy is so red that Nick’s not sure he won’t combust right here, and he knows that his own laughter isn’t helping but, Jesus, this is too precious, and he rolls to the side, bringing his knees to his chest as he laughs. “Your first fantasizes were about Charlie Conway?”
Jeremy crosses his arms, looking down at him and huffing. “It’s not that bad.” But Nick doesn’t stop laughing and Jeremy prods him with his foot. “Who was yours?”
Nick stops, taking a deep breath. “Nick Lidstrom.” It’s Jeremy’s turn to laugh and Nick tackles him to the bed. “Fuck you, at least mine was a real person.”
Jeremy pauses, taking deep breathes as he tries to regain the ability to speak. “Yeah, but, is that why you play him on the Xbox all the time?” Nick blushes and Jeremy grins. “That’s kinky.”
“Fuck you.” It’s all Nick can think of to say to get out of this, and it’s not much, but Jeremy stills enough for Nick to lean down and kiss him. Hard and full and all the things he’s not ready to say yet, and when he pulls back, Jeremy’s just smiling at him as if he understands all of it, even the bit about Nick not being ready yet, so he just arches his hips a bit to push Nick off and to the bed next to him. They settle against the pillows and Nick kisses his shoulder. “Ready for your real present?”
“Only if I can give you yours first.”
“Okay.” Nick’s never been one to be humble about presents. He loves them. Loves receiving them, loves getting them, and he’s practically bouncing on the bed as Jeremy rummages around in the bedside table and deposits a smallish square box in Nick’s hands.
It’s a watch. Beautifully crafted and exactly what Nick would want if he was buying something for himself. “It’s perfect.” He lifts it out of the box and clasps it to his wrist, holding it out to admire it.
“Really? I wasn’t sure. But Sharpie said you’d like it.”
“You asked Sharpie about what to get me?”
Jeremy shrugs. “You’re hard to shop for.”
“Thank you.” Nick leans forward to kiss him. He doesn’t know if it’s for the watch, or for being comfortable enough with this to mention it to someone else, even if Sharpie does already know about them. It still means something. It still means a lot.. “Your turn.”
Nick had had a hard time shopping for Jeremy, too. He had wanted something more intimate than a flannel shirt or a pair of jeans or something, but jewelry’s hard. A watch is perfect, but Nick hadn’t thought of it, and he had spent hours in a jewelry store in downtown Rockford looking at men’s bracelets and things.
Finally, he had settled on a simple silver chain, like most of the guys wear. On the end of it sit two charms: a silver rendition of the Blackhawks Indian head and the number 27 that Jeremy wears when he’s up in Chicago. He’s never seen Jeremy wear anything around his neck, but Nick just hopes that that’s because he doesn’t have anything to wear and not because he has something against them.
Nick’s still worried that it’s too much, and he takes a big sigh of relief when Jeremy immediately slips it over his head and looks down at it as if he can’t take his eyes away. “I love it.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.” Jeremy’s still looking at it, playing with it between his fingers. “Nick?”
“Yeah?”
Jeremy looks at him, worrying his lip, and taking a deep breath. “My parents are going to be in Buffalo, at the World Juniors. I want you to meet them.”
Nick almost chokes on the breath he inhales too fast. “Meet them, meet them?”
Jeremy nods. “Yeah.”
“Okay.” It’s not a step that Nick ever thought Jeremy would take first. It’s one that Nick would have taken a long time ago, except Jeremy’s so skittish about people finding out, and Nick hadn’t wanted to push, but, the truth is, this means more to Nick than anything else Jeremy could ever give him.
Part V-VI
Author: speakingwosound
Pairing: Nick Leddy/Jeremy Morin
Rating: NC-17
Words: 24, 500
Summary: Nick Leddy is gay. He’s also on the brink of making it to the NHL. He thinks he’s reconciled these things. Until he meets Jeremy Morin.
Disclaimer: Not real, sadly.
A/N: Takes place between Rookie Development Camp in June and World Junior Champions in January. I’ve kept it mostly accurate, although I’ve fudged a bit on the types of players that show up at Rookie Development Camp. Just go with me for that, yeah?
Part I-III
Part Four. Regular Season. October-December, 2010. Chicago/Rockford, IL.
Nick is nervous as he stands on Jeremy’s doorstep in Rockford. Things had been great in Chicago, but, as he had suspected, Soupy had healed and Nick had gotten the call into Coach Q’s office this morning. They’d been very nice about it, flattered him, tried to sell Rockford as if Nick hadn’t known this was coming, hadn’t been planning on it all along.
It was all a bit quicker than he had expected, though. He had thought that he’d get a few hours to pack up, thank Duncan for housing him, say a quick good bye to the guys, but the coach in Rockford wants him to play in the game tonight. So Nick had made the short drive to Duncan’s while Duncs and Seabs were at practice, thrown his clothes into a couple of bags, and hopped onto the thruway.
And now, here he is, on Jeremy’s doorstep, completely unsure if he’s wanted and/or expected. There hadn’t been time to send him a text to say that he’s coming. There’d been no evidence over the last few weeks that he’s unwanted, but there hadn’t been a lot of evidence to the contrary, either.
They had been really good, in the beginning. They had texted often, called every few days. But, distance is hard and things got busy and the conversation slowed. It takes Nick a couple of days to answer texts, and about half the time when he calls, Jeremy sends him straight to voicemail. When they do talk, it’s pleasant and fun, so Nick knows that there are no hard feelings but, well, it’s hard when they’re so far apart. And he just doesn’t know how Jeremy will react to him being here, on his doorstep, with a black and red Blackhawks equipment bag and two suitcases.
He sighs and sucks it up and rings the doorbell.
“Coming, coming.” There’s some banging from inside, and then the door’s opening and Jeremy’s there. “Nick?”
“Hey.” Nick frowns. “Coach Peters didn’t tell you I was coming, did he?”
“Um, no?” Jeremy rubs his head, as if trying to remember if he’d forget something like that.
“Well, I’m, um, gonna be here for a while.” Nick glances at his luggage. “Mind if I stay here? At least ‘til I find my own place?”
“Ahh,” Jeremy shakes his head, before smiling at him and grabbing one of his suitcases. He doesn’t ask why he’s here, doesn’t ask what happened, just smiles at him as if he’s happy to see Nick. “Of course. Sorry, you surprised me.”
“Thanks.” Nick smiles back at him. “I really appreciate it.”
“I was just on my way to practice. Drop your bags and you can come with.”
“Cool.” Nick drops his things and throws his hockey bag in the back of Jeremy’s Forrester.
Introductions are less awkward than Nick had worried they’d be. He knows a lot of the guys from either rookie camp or training camp, and there’s less ribbing about being sent down than Nick had expected. Although, he supposes he should revise his theory, since they’re pretty much all in the same boat, having fun in Rockford while biding their time to get to the NHL. They all understand how this works, and it’s extremely rare to go directly from amateur to the NHL, unless, of course, you’re a superstar like Jonathan Toews or Patrick Kane, and it’s just not fair to be compared to them.
The day goes by quickly, and Nick is too busy adjusting to the pace of the AHL game and trying to fit in in the locker room to be worried about Jeremy. And he seems okay, taking some sort of pride in being the guy who knows Nick well enough to show him around. Jeremy scores a goal during the game, too, so he’s even happily chatting on the car ride back to his apartment.
“Um, I’m gonna show you your room, then I’m gonna take a shower, okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, sounds good.” Nick follows him down the hallway to the guestroom. It’s small, but there’s a bed and a dresser, and Nick takes the time to put his clothes away. It helps settle him, remind him that this is his new home, and the quicker he finds some equilibrium, the better.
He’s feeling okay, after a shower, and he pulls on a thin pair of sweats and a t-shirt before making his way to the living room. Jeremy is already there, dressed mostly the same way, curled into a corner of the couch with an Xbox controller in his hands. When he hears Nick come in, he pauses his game and turns.
“Find everything okay?”
“Yeah, um, amazingly. You’re all set up here.”
Jeremy blushes. “My mom visited in October. It was empty except for the TV, and she took my paycheck and set up the place. Couch, beds, things in the kitchen I’ve never seen before.”
Nick laughs, taking the other side of the couch. “My mom’d do the same thing.” He sits on the other controller and fishes it out. “Playing NHL11?”
“Yeah.” He blushes a bit. “I’m playing Toews.”
Nick laughs. He’s missed Jeremy. More than he’s allowed himself to admit. “Okay. Can I be Lidstrom?”
“Sure.” Jeremy quits his game and starts up a new one, an epic match between Chicago and Detroit that goes the equivalent of two playoff seasons and a fake Winter Classic. Jeremy wins, though it’s close.
Jeremy shuts down the game and fiddles with the controller in his lap. It’s late, way past midnight, and the silence is oppressive. Nick really wants to go to bed, but he doesn’t know how to do it without making the awkwardness worse, and he doesn’t want to do any damage that will prove irreparable later.
“Um-“ Jeremy glances at him, but he looks away quickly, his cheeks tinged read and his teeth worrying at that spot on his bottom lip. Nick’s too tired to hide what that does to him and he stares at the spot.
“Nick?”
“Fuck it,” Nick whispers, pushing his controller to the ground and stretching across the couch to kiss him. Jeremy sighs into his mouth, his entire body going limp under Nick’s. Nick slips a hand under Jeremy’s back, adjusting them so that they’re spread out along the couch, Nick’s knees on either side of Jeremy’s thigh, his erection brushing against Jeremy’s hip.
When Nick pulls away, resting his forehead against Jeremy’s shoulder as he pants for breath, Jeremy’s hands shake loose and hold tightly to Nick’s hips as if Jeremy can keep him there with just his fingertips. Jeremy presses up against Nick’s dick with his hip, sighing happily. “You still want me.”
“What?” Nick breathes deep, raising his head to look at Jeremy, and he’s shocked to see Jeremy’s eyes closed, a shy, awed expression on his face.
Jeremy opens his eyes slowly, languidly stretching beneath Nick. “It’s been weeks and, well, out of sight out of mind, you know?”
Nick shakes his head. He’s way too fucking worn out for this conversation. “No, I don’t, I - Jeremy?”
Jeremy frowns, bringing one of his hands up to caress Nick’s jaw. “You’ve been in Chicago, a star, and you’re an attractive guy. I’m sure there were plenty of men throwing themselves at you. I’d understand if-“ Jeremy swallows. “I’d understand.”
“I’m not a star.” Jeremy’s face falls and, right, that’s not the part that Nick’s supposed to be focusing on. He gathers his thoughts, leaning all his weight on his right arm so that he can run the other through Jeremy’s hair. “Hey, I didn’t, okay? I didn’t even think about it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” Nick ducks his head, his throat suddenly going dry and he licks his lips. This feels like a monumental conversation, one that they should have had a long time ago, and he really, really, doesn’t wanna fuck this up. “I couldn’t get you out of my head.” Jeremy shakes his head, but Nick just nods. “Yeah, you were all I thought about, I swear. You and hockey.”
Jeremy stares at him for a long, tense moment, and Nick can’t shake the feeling that this is a test of some kind and, after all that they’ve been through, if he doesn’t pass, he might just get thrown out on his ass for good. He holds still, nothing more than his thumb moving across Jeremy’s forehead, trying to tell him everything through his touch and his body and the fact that he’s here, now, and if he still doesn’t know what exactly it is that he’s promising Jeremy yet, he knows that he’s promising something.
It must work, somehow, ‘cause Jeremy loosens below him, sinking into the couch and gripping Nick’s hip, hard. He pulls Nick down, kissing him with something a little bit more than he has before, and, when they break apart to breath, Jeremy drops a hand down to cup Nick.
“I want you,” he whispers, grinning.
Nick’s mind melts. “Yes,” he hisses, pushing into Jeremy’s touch, humping his palm for a second until he can get his mind to work again. He presses their foreheads together, exhaling slowly. “Have you, um, have you ever-?”
Jeremy bites his lip and Nick drops his chin to lick that spot. Jeremy laughs, his cheeks flushed as he looks straight at Nick. “Yeah. A couple times, but, um, it’s been awhile?”
It’s a question and Nick just grins at him. “Okay, okay. Slow, good. Lube?”
“In the bedroom.”
Nick grins. “Your mom put that there, too?”
Jeremy blushes deeply, his whole neck going red until it disappears under his t-shirt, and he shoves at Nick to get him up and off the couch. “Fuck you,” he whispers, but he pulls Nick in for one more kiss once they’re sitting up and Nick just chuckles at him.
They race to the bedroom, laughing at making quick work of their clothes along the way. They’re both down to their underwear by the time they tumble onto Jeremy’s bed, and Nick settles himself between Jeremy’s thighs, sitting back on his heels and getting the chance to properly look at him for the first time.
They’re both still young, with lots of filling out to do, and most of their weight comes from height and not muscle. But they’re still hockey players, and Nick is transfixed by the way Jeremy’s taught stomach contracts with each breath.
“Nick?”
“Hmm?”
“Do something.”
“Right.” Nick grins at him, pressing forward for a kiss, before trailing his lips down Jeremy’s chest. He takes Jeremy’s left nipple between his teeth, squeezing tightly until Jeremy whines deep in his throat and Nick lets up, soothing the angry-red nub with his tongue.
His original intention was to tease every inch of Jeremy he can reach, but Jeremy is already writhing below him, and his own cock feels painful in his briefs, so he decides to adjust his plan.
“Lube?” Jeremy asks, and Nick nods.
Jeremy reaches for the bedside table, his long muscles stretching towards it, and Nick has to drop the heel of his hand hard into his own dick, willing himself to take a few steps back from the edge.
“Okay?” Jeremy asks as he settles back against the pillows, the lube and condoms in a pile next to him.
Nick groans, leaning down to kiss him. “I’m not gonna last too long this time.”
Jeremy grins, pressing up against him. “Get moving, then.”
“Pushy.” Nick nips at Jeremy’s lip before he settles back on his heels. He reaches for the waistband of Jeremy’s briefs, urging him to lift his hips so that Nick can pull the fabric off and drop it to the floor somewhere behind them.
Nick reaches up for the lube, making sure that Jeremy watches him coat his finger with it before taking Jeremy’s dick in his hand and giving it a couple of good, hard tugs. Jeremy’s eyes slip shut, a moan slipping past his lips, and Nick uses the moment to drop his finger and push it past the first wall of muscle.
Jeremy tenses for a moment, but Nick holds still, allowing Jeremy to adjust to the intrusion. Jeremy is tight and hot and Nick thinks of things like blocking shots and disallowed goals and the drive between Chicago and Rockford, until he’s sure that he’s not going to finish right now, long before they’re done.
Jeremy reaches for him, wrapping his fingers around Nick’s bicep and urging him forward. Nick opens his eyes, leaning up to kiss him, close-lipped, as he pushes his finger in. Jeremy’s breath hitches, but he doesn’t flinch away, and Nick bends his finger, stretching, pulling, until, without moving his lips away, he slips in a second one. This one is easier, Jeremy’s body already open and willing and the scissoring makes quick work of his muscles.
Nick sits back again, reaching for the lube and looking at Jeremy. “A third?”
“Yeah,” Jeremy breathes, adjusting the way he’s sitting on Nick’s fingers before sinking further into the pillows. Nick pulls his fingers back and pours a liberal amount of lube over them, before pushing three in. Jeremy tightens for a second, grimacing, and Nick frowns. It takes him a couple of minutes of twisting and scissoring before he finds the spot and Jeremy keens, his back arching up off the bed and his eyes slipping shut.
Nick keeps the angle, hitting it again and again, relentless, and Jeremy’s body twists in his arms, a thick layer of sweat gathering on his chest as he pants and breathes out, “Stop, stop. Nick-“
“Okay,” Nick pulls back, caressing Jeremy’s sides with his messy fingers, urging him to slow and relax. “I’m here.”
“God, Nick, that was, fuck. I had forgotten - Jesus, what’s your dick gonna feel like?” Jeremy opens his eyes and the question is so innocent at this moment that Nick chuckles.
He scoots back just long enough to pull his own briefs to the ground before grabbing a condom and the lube and spreading it liberally over himself. He lifts Jeremy’s calves to his shoulders and presses forward. “Okay?”
Jeremy’s eyes are half-lidded as he glares up at him. “Yes, fuck, do it.” Nick can’t really tell what mix of arousal and fear it is, but he’s too far gone to make any other allowances than to go slow as he pushes into Jeremy’s body. It opens for him, tight and hot and, fuck, almost more than Nick is prepared for.
It’s not particularly good. They’re both nineteen years old, relatively inexperienced, and after months of wanting each other this way, it was never meant to last long. But, Nick’s fingers dig deep bruises into Jeremy’s thighs, and Jeremy’s drops a hand over his eyes as Nick pounds into him, and it’s the best they’ve ever had.
Nick can barely hear anything over the rush of blood in his ear, but he’s determined to hear that keening sound again. He twists his hips and yes, there it is, Jeremy’s entire body going still under him as he arches off the bed, wrapping his arms around Nick’s neck and pulling him down for a hot, wet, kiss.
“Please, please, please,” he whispers into Nick’s mouth, and Nick shifts his weight onto one hand so that he can drop the other between their bodies. It only takes a couple of tugs and Jeremy spills over their chests, Nick’s name on his tongue as he holds on tightly to Nick’s back.
Nick holds him, kissing along his jaw and keeping up a steady rhythm with his hips. Jeremy groans, pressing his hands to Nick’s lower back and urging him forward until Nick stills, pumping deep and long, biting down on Jeremy’s lip as he moans out his name.
Nick turns his head to kiss Jeremy as he eases away, helping Jeremy’s legs fall loosely to the bed. Nick stumbles up, disposing of the condom and grabbing a washcloth from the bathroom. When Nick returns, Jeremy has already turned back the covers, and Nick cleans them quickly before throwing the cloth to join the pile of clothes on the ground, and slips into bed.
“We need to do that again,” Nick sighs, curling up behind Jeremy and pulling him tight.
“As many times as we can,” Jeremy breathes.
***
They hold true to Jeremy’s wish. In the month after Nick arrives in Rockford, they settle into a good routine. A routine that mostly consists of hockey, pizza, beer, Xbox, and sex, but a routine none-the-less. Nick never moves out of Jeremy’s apartment and, if anyone asks, he says he’s just staying in the extra room. It sounds economical, with their salaries, to be saving money with a roommate. Everyone’s kind enough not to point out that rent in Rockford, IL isn’t exactly steep.
They also make a concerted effort to hang out with the team. Not only to defray any possible hints as to the real nature of their relationship, but also because Rockford is beginning to feel like home and Nick’s starting to feel like he wouldn’t mind spending a couple of years here. It’s a nice town, a good group of guys, and he feels himself getting stronger, both mentally and physically, every game he plays.
The weather’s starting to change as November sets in. Flurries are in the air, but Nick’s still holding out on wearing a jacket, as if maybe he has a chance of holding out longer than the Mid-West winter. He does give in to Jeremy, though, by pulling his Rockford hoodie on over his t-shirt before they get into the car and make their way over to Beach’s.
The thing about Rockford is that over half the team is still under-aged, and even though they could find a bar willing to look the other way, the Rockford media tends to treat the team like the up-and-coming stars that they are. Beach always seems to have a solution to the problem, though, with an endless supply of alcohol that no one bothers to question. They just nickname his house The Speakeasy and it’s an unspoken rule that, whenever they have a couple days off between games, the guys all head over there.
“Let’s make it an early night, yeah?” Jeremy stops at a light and looks over at Nick.
Nick raises an eyebrow. “Why?”
Jeremy grins and turns back to the road. “No reason.”
“You’re such a fucking liar.” The light turns green and Nick reaches his hand over to rest on Jeremy’s knee. “Have other plans?”
Nick’s hand inches up his thigh and Jeremy’s breath hitches. “Nick-“
“Yeah?”
Jeremy takes a hand off the wheel to cover Nick’s and keep it from roaming further. “Just a couple hours, okay?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Nick grins, taking his hand back as they pull up in front of Beach’s place.
Beach’s just renting the house, hoping, like they all are, that their Rockford residency will prove short-lived, so it’s sparsely furnished. But half the team is already here, hanging around the couches drinking beers and cheering on an Xbox tournament.
“Leddy, Mo.” Beach meets them at the door, squeezing both their shoulders. “Good. We need you.”
“What?”
“We’re getting killed.”
Nick looks over at the couch and Brian Connelly ushers him over. “Leddy, good.” Nick leaves Jeremy with a quick shoulder squeeze at the doorway and takes the beer Brian hands him. “I need you on my team.”
“Who’re we playing?”
“We’re reenacting the Eastern Conference playoff series. We need you to play Mike Green.”
Nick takes the controller and squeezes onto the couch between Brian and Igor Makarov. “I playing Ovie. I am terrible.”
Nick laughs, clicking through the options and setting up his player. Jeremy takes up a seat at the other end of the couch, accepting a controller and setting up as a forward on the rival Montreal Canadiens.
Nick grins at him. “Think you’ll make a better Canadien than a Blackhawk?”
Jeremy flips him off. “If you do Green better than you do Lidstrom.”
Nick laughs and focuses in on the game. He’s downed two beers before he realizes that Jeremy is gone, Brandon Pirri playing his controller. Nick doesn’t think much of it. Jeremy hadn’t been playing all that well, and the guys tend to be just as competitive about Xbox hockey as they are about real hockey, so Nick just assumes that Jeremy called it a loss and is skulking outside with a basketball or something.
“Nick.” Nick feels a hand on his arm and he glances at Jeremy out of the corner of his eye.
“Hey, I’m almost done with this game. Wait a sec?” Nick asks, not taking his attention away from his animated player.
“We’ve gotta go.”
Nick is utterly focused, otherwise he would have taken head of the tone in Jeremy’s voice. “Can’t. We’re playing a tournament.”
“I know, but, Nick -”
“Just a little bit, okay? We only got here an hour ago.” Nick presses down hard and scores, throwing his hands into the air. “Plus, I’m winning.”
“I really have to go.”
Igor pauses the game and looks at them. “I will drive Nick home. Later. If he not want leave.”
Jeremy pauses, and Nick finally turns to look at him, really look at him, and he feels like the absolute worst boyfriend ever. “No, no, it’s okay. Pots can take my place.” He climbs over the back of the couch, handing his controller over to Potulny and dragging Jeremy out of the house.
“I’m sorry, I just-” Jeremy stops at the bottom of the porch steps, digging his hands into his pockets.
“Hey,” Nick takes a step closer, aware of their entire team on the other side of the windows. “What happened?”
Jeremy looks down at his feet. “I’ve been called up.”
“What?”
“I got the call, a few minutes ago.”
“Jeremy, that’s great.”
“Is it?” Jeremy kicks at the frozen ground with his sneakers. “I mean, it is, of course it is, but-” He gestures between them and Nick sighs.
He’s not going to have this discussion here, where they have to talk in code and half-finished sentences. Last time they had a discussion of this magnitude, they had been worn out and exhausted on Jeremy’s couch, forced into it by circumstance, and even if that had ended well, Nick is determined to do it right this time.
“Give me the keys.”
Jeremy doesn’t argue as he hands them over. The ride is quiet, Jeremy with his head in his palm, staring out the window, and Nick rests his hand on Jeremy’s knee, squeezing. Jeremy puts his hand over Nick’s but he doesn’t do anything more than rest it there.
When they get home, Nick lets them in, going straight to the couch and pulling Jeremy down. Jeremy looks terrified, curling in on himself against the armrest, and biting his lip. Nick sighs. “You’re an idiot.”
Jeremy frowns. “I-”
Nick reaches for him, wrapping his fingers around Jeremy’s ankle. “Maybe I should have told you this a long time ago, but I honestly thought that you’d have it figured out by now.”
“What?”
Nick makes sure that Jeremy’s really paying attention before continuing. “I really like you. Have since the moment me met. And that means-” Nick caresses the inside of Jeremy’s ankle with his thumb, “that I don’t want anyone else. And if that means that we have to do the long distance thing for a while, well, that’s what iPhones and laptops are for.”
Jeremy lets his breath out with a loud, “Oh.”
“Yeah,” Nick nods. “You hadn’t figured that out yet?”
“I-” Jeremy swallows. “I was hoping, but-” he shrugs. “You didn’t ask me to wait last time.”
Nick shrugs. “We weren’t really anything yet, last time.”
Jeremy glances down at his hands. “I would have said yes, if you had asked.”
Nick freezes. It’s the first time Jeremy’s said something like that. Of course, Jeremy had waited for him, but Nick had never been sure whether it was on purpose, or whether it was more due to lack of options. This, knowing that Jeremy had made a choice, to wait it out, wait for him - Nick’s stomach flips.
“I’m sorry.” Nick whispers, wishing that there was more of Jeremy to touch than his ankle. “I should have, but, I didn’t know and I was - Well, all that matters is that I’m asking now. And I’m telling you that I’m with you, in every sense of the word.”
“Good.” Jeremy smiles, uncurling himself from the corner and kissing Nick, hands on both sides of his face. “Good, ‘cause I’m saying yes now, too.”
Nick grins. “You’re a romantic.”
Jeremy punches his shoulder. “Asshole. We were having a moment.”
Nick laughs, pulling him closer. “Yeah, yeah.” He rests their foreheads together. “You’re gonna do great in Chicago.”
And he means it, with everything he has, but, fuck, he’s going to miss him.
***
R u free 2day? @ 2?
Y. why?
Good. C u then.
Nick waits for another text, but it’s a pretty futile process. He knows by now to expect short, cryptic texts from Jeremy when he’s in the locker room or on the road or any other event that means that nosey teammates like Seabs and Kaner are around.
Giving up, Nick drops his phone to the coffee table and wanders into the kitchen. For the first few days after Jeremy had left, the apartment had felt big and foreign and echo-ey. Nick had considered getting his own apartment, or at least moving into the guestroom, but that had felt stupid. Even if Jeremy’s name is on the lease, Nick’s clothes take up half the drawers and at least a third of the closet space.
Nick’s started inviting the guys over, too. Jeremy had always been a little paranoid, as if any of their teammates are observant enough to realize that there are two toothbrushes in the master bathroom. Of course, in the ten or so days that Jeremy’s been gone, no one’s asked those questions, but Nick has a master plan anyway. One where he laughs it off and tells them that he didn’t waste a lot of time moving his things into the bigger bedroom the moment Jeremy was gone. Throw in a phrase like ‘while the body was still warm,’ a little self-deprecating humor, and it’d all be good.
Nick contemplates jerking off in the shower, but it was a hard practice and he can’t decide if he has the energy. Instead, he dries off quickly and crawls into bed with every intention of waking up long before 2 o’clock.
He doesn’t quite calculate the level of his tiredness, though, ‘cause he wakes to the incessant beeping of r u there? texts. He swears, kicking off the covers and pulling on a pair of sweats as he dives for the desk and signs on to Skype.
“Hey.” Nick runs a hand through his hair, trying to smooth it, but it’s pretty much a lost cause. “Sorry, I kinda overslept.”
“It’s okay.” All Nick can see is Jeremy’s face, but he looks shy and nervous and it’s been a while since Nick’s seen him like this. “If you wanna go back to sleep, I, um, I didn’t mean to wake you. We can do this later.”
Nick shakes his head, yawning widely. “No, no, I’m up now. What’s up?”
Jeremy fidgets, his face blushing furiously. “Well, I, ahh, I had an idea.”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t know if you’d be into it. I don’t know if I’m into it -” Jeremy stops, his whole face red, and Nick clues into what he’s talking about.
“You want to have video sex?” He blurts, and he didn’t really mean to sound so incredulous, but he would have bet his entire NHL career that Jeremy would never be the one to initiate this.
“No.” Jeremy pauses. “Well, yes, but it’s a terrible idea. Forget it. I’m sorry.”
“Jeremy, stop.” Nick takes a deep breath, letting it out to make sure that he’s done wanting to laugh. “Sorry I laughed. I just never figured you’d suggest it.”
Jeremy shrugs. “Sharpie and Abby are out for the afternoon, and I’m-” He stops, his whole face going even redder than before.
“Horny?” Nick supplies, and Jeremy looks horrified, before biting his lip and nodding. Nick grins. “Me too.”
Jeremy takes a deep breath. “Thank god. So this isn’t a terrible idea?”
“It’s a great idea.” And it is. The closest they’ve gotten to anything indecent lately is the naked picture Nick had sent to celebrate Jeremy’s first NHL goal. It was a nice gesture, he thought, except that he hadn’t taken into consideration the fact that Jeremy was probably out celebrating with the likes of Kaner, Seabs, Sharpie, and it had almost ended in disaster. Nick should know by now that the sexy, suave boyfriend is a role he was just never meant to play.
“Okay. Good. Um-” Jeremy bites his lip again. “How do we do this?”
Nick shrugs. “I don’t know.”
“Haven’t you done this before?”
“No. Have you?”
“No,” Jeremy practically squeaks, before putting a hand over his mouth and blushing.
Nick ignores him, glancing around and trying to figure out how best to work this. Nick doesn’t want this to look like some trashy porno, just hands slapping on skin and fake moans coming from disembodied heads somewhere off screen. But he also doesn’t want to just see Jeremy’s face and have to guess at what he’s doing by the way his left eyebrow twitches or something.
He finally settles on pushing his chair back a little bit and angling the computer. It’s not perfect, but at least they can see most of each other’s bodies and they’re not cut off at the neck. “This okay?”
“Yeah,” Jeremy breathes, pushing his chair into the same position and already sounding into it. Nick follows Jeremy’s eyes to where they’re staring at Nick’s bare chest. He hadn’t bothered putting a shirt on, and now he’s glad he hadn’t.
“Tell me what you want,” Nick urges.
Jeremy pauses, glancing around him and Nick has the insane urge to do the same, even though he lives alone now and no one could possibly be here. Finally, though, Jeremy settles in and says, his voice wavering a little, “Touch yourself, like I would.”
“Like this?” Nick asks, running a hand along his collarbone, down his bicep, before tweaking a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “Oh,” he breathes, arching up and almost letting his eyes slip closed.
“Yes,” Jeremy whispers, squirming in his seat and Nick nods at him.
“Take off your shirt.” Jeremy complies, pulling it over his head and throwing it away, somewhere beyond the realm of the computer screen. “I want you to rub yourself, through your pants. Yeah, like that.”
Nick mirrors the movements, dropping his own hand into his lap and pressing, hard. He moans, arching into it. He’s gotten pretty used to his right hand but, somehow, this feels different, better, good.
“I - I wanna see you.” Jeremy pants and Nick grins.
“Me too.” He lifts his hips, pulling his pants to the ground and Jeremy’s eyes widen for a moment, watching as Nick’s dick bounces against his stomach, a drop of pre-come already smearing across his abs. He doesn’t touch himself for a full minute, just stretching back in the chair and letting Jeremy look at him, until, of course, it starts feeling kinda weird and voyeuristic, and he wraps his hand around his dick in some attempt to cover it.
“Now you. Jeremy, please.”
“Right, right.” Jeremy smiles, that shy little smile that settles Nick and makes his stomach roll all at the same time. He’s really missed Jeremy’s body, and his mouth goes dry as Jeremy’s sweats and briefs hit the floor. His dick is only visible for a second, before Jeremy fists it, but Nick burns the moment into his mind.
“You’re- fuck, Jeremy, you’re so hot.”
Jeremy flushes, and, even through the computer, Nick can see that it travels all the way to his knees. “You, too.” Jeremy arches into his fist, dropping his head back and looking at Nick through half-lidded yes. “The things you do to me, Nick. I don’t know if you’ll ever - fuck.”
Nick moans. He can almost forget that he’s here, alone, when Jeremy’s here, invading all his senses, and Nick does forget that it’s his own hand tugging and pulling and when Jeremy comes, jerking into his own fist and calling Nick’s name, Nick tumbles right after.
“That was-” Nick smiles at him, slow, sated. “Jesus, Jeremy, that was the best idea you’ve ever had.”
“I try.” Jeremy laughs, blushing even after what they’ve just done, and Nick wouldn’t trade him in for anything.
“You better go, before Sharpie gets home and finds you like this.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Jeremy reaches out of the screen to grab his briefs, before returning and cleaning himself up. “Call me after your game?”
“Yes. Definitely.” Nick reaches over and turns off the computer. He knows he should clean up or something, but there’s still a couple of hours before he has to be at the rink, so he just stumbles over to the bed and falls instantly back to sleep.
***
Jeremy’s back in Rockford a few days before Christmas. He had been playing well, and rumors had been flying around about a long-term stay, perhaps into January and forcing him to miss his last World Junior Championships. On the phone, though, Jeremy had seemed unconcerned, just wanting to play his game and be the willing pawn. So, when Hossa, Kaner, and Tazer all get better and healed just before the holidays, Jeremy dutifully comes back to Rockford and happily settles back in.
In fact, it’s taking Nick longer to adjust than it is Jeremy. Not in a bad way, just in the little hint of surprise he gets every morning when he rolls over and Jeremy is there, mouth open, sleeping peacefully. Or in those moments, every once in a while, where it’s quiet and the apartment feels empty, and he looks over at the other end of the couch where Jeremy’s reading The Hockey News, and Nick has to reach out and touch his foot to remind himself that Jeremy’s really here.
Nick doesn’t wonder about any of these things this morning. He wakes up feeling good, like his life is on track and he’s exactly where he’s always wanted to be, even if nothing about this is where he had seen himself six months ago. It’s like Christmas morning when he was seven and his parents would make him wait upstairs until it was 7 o’clock, except that they aren’t here and Nick knows many pleasant ways to wake Jeremy up at 4 am that won’t leave him angry and grumpy.
Grinning, Nick ducks under the covers and kisses his way down Jeremy’s sleeping body, gently pushing on his hips ‘til he’s lying on his back. Nick waits a moment, making sure that Jeremy is still sleeping, before working Jeremy with his hands, slow, long tugs until Jeremy is hard.
Jeremy makes a little whine, his hips pushing closer to Nick, but Nick knows by now that Jeremy has a hard time discerning between dreams and realities when he’s in this half-way place between sleeping and waking, and Nick takes full advantage of his position, lowering his mouth and tonguing the head of Jeremy’s cock.
Nick takes his time. He rarely has the opportunity to go this slow, when their hormones are sleep-stunted and he can lick and nip every inch of Jeremy’s cock, taking notes of every moan and hitched breath it earns him. He spends an inordinate amount of time on the skin where Jeremy’s cock and balls meet, fascinated with the way the skin curls and bunches.
“Tease.” Jeremy’s voice is rough and when Nick looks up, Jeremy’s head is lifted slightly from the pillow, his hair tousled and his eyes groggy with the remnants of the sandman. If Nick was pressed, and only under sheer duress, he would have to admit that this moment is it, when Jeremy is the most beautiful to him, and he has to tamp down on the feelings threatening to spread too quickly through his body.
“Morning.” Nick murmurs, biting lightly at the little roll of skin under his mouth.
“You woke me up for this?”
“You want more?”
“Uh huh.”
Nick grins, rising on his elbow just enough to swallow Jeremy whole. Even after all these months, Jeremy isn’t expecting it, and his hands flutter to Nick’s head, tangling in the hair that Jeremy has convinced him to grow a little longer again.
Nick hollows his cheeks, slipping a finger in to caress along Jeremy’s cock, before he slips it, wet and slippery, behind Jeremy’s balls. He caresses along the tight ring of muscles, tantalizing circles until Jeremy arches his own hips and angles them so that Nick has no choice but to slip inside.
Jeremy groans, pulsing in Nick’s mouth and holding Nick down, fucking his mouth with that slow, early Christmas morning laziness that has Nick grinning around him and humming contentedly. This is so much better than the video games his parents used to leave outside his door, Santa scribbled on the tags, and meant as distractions until it’s late enough that normal people are willing and able to trudge downstairs to the real presents.
Jeremy grunts, urging Nick’s attention back to him, and Nick grins around his cock. He shifts on his elbow until he can get a better angle with his finger, taking Jeremy’s cock to the hilt and bending his finger to rub against his prostate. Jeremy shouts, his back bowing off the bed as he comes, deep and hot down Nick’s throat.
“Merry Christmas,” Nick whispers, moving up Jeremy’s body and kissing him, his mouth still warm and salty and Jeremy thrusts his tongue in, moaning in a half-hearted attempt to get it up again.
It’s actually a couple days before the actual holiday. With the World Juniors starting the 26th and both their parents wanting them home for the actual itself, Nick and Jeremy had made a pact to use this one, rare day off to have their own celebration, door locked, cell phones off, and no plans to get out of bed until they leave for the airport tomorrow morning. But when Jeremy lets his head fall back against the pillows, looking up at Nick with a blissed, happy grin, and murmurs, “Merry Christmas,” Nick gets the feeling again, the one he feels all the way down in his toes, and he vows to have Christmas before Christmas every year for the rest of his life.
The feeling’s a little too much, the way Jeremy’s looking at him a little overwhelming, and Nick clears his throat. “Want a present?”
“Do I have more than one?”
Nick raises an eyebrow. “Greedy bastard, eh?”
“No, it’s just, if I only have one, I can wait.” Jeremy backtracks quickly, and Nick rolls his eyes, leaning forward for a quick kiss. He leans over the side of the bed, shivering as the quilt drops to his lap and the cold air teases at his skin. He grabs the gaudily wrapped green and red box and drops it quickly into Jeremy’s lap before burrowing back under the quilt and rubbing his arms.
“Open it.”
Jeremy doesn’t have to be told twice, sitting up and ignoring the cold air as he tares into it. “You didn’t?” He laughs, a real, deep, down in his chest laugh. “You remembered.”
“That you wanted to live in Minnesota ‘cause you have an unhealthy obsession with The Mighty Ducks?” Nick raises an eyebrow. “Something like that’s kinda hard to forget.”
Jeremy turns it over in his hands to read the back and Nick leans forward to kiss his hip, the only part of him that he can reach while still laying down. “It’s the whole trilogy,” Nick offers. “Even the terrible second one where they have to play Iceland. As if Iceland produces good hockey players or something.”
Jeremy laughs, setting it aside and scooting down in the bed to kiss him. “Thank you.”
“You wanna watch one?”
“Now?”
Nick shrugs. “Sure. Although, I’d prefer the first. It’s the best.”
“But-” Jeremy stammers. “We’re naked.”
“So?”
“So, they’re like, eight in that movie. Isn’t that perverted?”
“I wasn’t planning on jacking off while watching it.” Jeremy blushes and Nick sits up. “Wait, wait, did you use to -? While watching-?”
“No, no.” Jeremy protests. “Well, sort of?” He tries to pull the quilt over his head, but Nick wrestles him for it, straddling Jeremy’s body so that he can’t get away.
“What do you mean, sort of?”
“It’s really embarrassing.”
“Even better.”
“Nick, please.” Jeremy squirms, but Nick holds tight and Jeremy finally gives up, closing his eyes as if, maybe, if he can’t actually see Nick, this will somehow be less bad. “My first crush was on Charlie. So, I’d, you know, imagine things, in the shower.”
Jeremy is so red that Nick’s not sure he won’t combust right here, and he knows that his own laughter isn’t helping but, Jesus, this is too precious, and he rolls to the side, bringing his knees to his chest as he laughs. “Your first fantasizes were about Charlie Conway?”
Jeremy crosses his arms, looking down at him and huffing. “It’s not that bad.” But Nick doesn’t stop laughing and Jeremy prods him with his foot. “Who was yours?”
Nick stops, taking a deep breath. “Nick Lidstrom.” It’s Jeremy’s turn to laugh and Nick tackles him to the bed. “Fuck you, at least mine was a real person.”
Jeremy pauses, taking deep breathes as he tries to regain the ability to speak. “Yeah, but, is that why you play him on the Xbox all the time?” Nick blushes and Jeremy grins. “That’s kinky.”
“Fuck you.” It’s all Nick can think of to say to get out of this, and it’s not much, but Jeremy stills enough for Nick to lean down and kiss him. Hard and full and all the things he’s not ready to say yet, and when he pulls back, Jeremy’s just smiling at him as if he understands all of it, even the bit about Nick not being ready yet, so he just arches his hips a bit to push Nick off and to the bed next to him. They settle against the pillows and Nick kisses his shoulder. “Ready for your real present?”
“Only if I can give you yours first.”
“Okay.” Nick’s never been one to be humble about presents. He loves them. Loves receiving them, loves getting them, and he’s practically bouncing on the bed as Jeremy rummages around in the bedside table and deposits a smallish square box in Nick’s hands.
It’s a watch. Beautifully crafted and exactly what Nick would want if he was buying something for himself. “It’s perfect.” He lifts it out of the box and clasps it to his wrist, holding it out to admire it.
“Really? I wasn’t sure. But Sharpie said you’d like it.”
“You asked Sharpie about what to get me?”
Jeremy shrugs. “You’re hard to shop for.”
“Thank you.” Nick leans forward to kiss him. He doesn’t know if it’s for the watch, or for being comfortable enough with this to mention it to someone else, even if Sharpie does already know about them. It still means something. It still means a lot.. “Your turn.”
Nick had had a hard time shopping for Jeremy, too. He had wanted something more intimate than a flannel shirt or a pair of jeans or something, but jewelry’s hard. A watch is perfect, but Nick hadn’t thought of it, and he had spent hours in a jewelry store in downtown Rockford looking at men’s bracelets and things.
Finally, he had settled on a simple silver chain, like most of the guys wear. On the end of it sit two charms: a silver rendition of the Blackhawks Indian head and the number 27 that Jeremy wears when he’s up in Chicago. He’s never seen Jeremy wear anything around his neck, but Nick just hopes that that’s because he doesn’t have anything to wear and not because he has something against them.
Nick’s still worried that it’s too much, and he takes a big sigh of relief when Jeremy immediately slips it over his head and looks down at it as if he can’t take his eyes away. “I love it.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.” Jeremy’s still looking at it, playing with it between his fingers. “Nick?”
“Yeah?”
Jeremy looks at him, worrying his lip, and taking a deep breath. “My parents are going to be in Buffalo, at the World Juniors. I want you to meet them.”
Nick almost chokes on the breath he inhales too fast. “Meet them, meet them?”
Jeremy nods. “Yeah.”
“Okay.” It’s not a step that Nick ever thought Jeremy would take first. It’s one that Nick would have taken a long time ago, except Jeremy’s so skittish about people finding out, and Nick hadn’t wanted to push, but, the truth is, this means more to Nick than anything else Jeremy could ever give him.
Part V-VI