Dany found himself pressed roughly against the now-closed door as Ilya held
him there, kissing him very firmly. “Hey, good game,” he said with a grin
as Dany blinked and tried to recover.
“It was.”
“You scored three times.” Ilya pressed closer, nibbling on Dany’s neck and
trying his hardest to melt into him.
“Yes, I did,” Dany agreed, running his fingers through Ilya’s dark hair and
sighing happily. “And we’re supposed to meet everyone else in half an
hour, buddy, so you’re going to have to stop now or we won’t at all.”
Ilya reluctantly backed away, but didn’t break the contact between them
entirely. Ilya was more dependent on physical contact than Dany
realized. Not that Dany was going to complain. “We do not have to go...”
“Well, I want to.”
Ilya sighed dramatically but his eyes revealed his amusement. “Oh, fine.”
Then he leaned in again to kiss Dany, this time sliding his leg in between
Dany’s and feeling the reaction he got with satisfaction.
“You are so evil,” the Canadian murmured, closing his eyes and tilting his
head back to rest against the door.
“I know.” Ilya slid his hand to Dany’s belt.
“What are you doing?” Dany said weakly, as his zipper was lowered.
“What do you think?”
“I think we’re going to be late?”
Ilya slid to his knees, looking up at Dany with a positively evil smirk. “Oh
no. We will not. You scored three goals. You get three rewards.”
Dany figured there was no way out of this and in just a moment he forgot that
he was trying to. He wasn’t sure how many minutes passed while he was
lost in pleasure, and he didn’t really care, either, as long as Ilya
didn’t stop.
Ilya slid up his body and kissed him deeply, then backed away, eyes
sparkling. “Adeen,” he smirked, as Dany recovered.
Finally getting his breath and legs back, Dany retreated to his bedroom to
change clothes, catching the keys Ilya tossed him when he returned. “What
did you mean, ‘adeen’?”
“Oh, you will see.” Ilya put on tinted glasses that were unnecessary because
it was dark and slid into the passenger’s side of Dany’s car, looking, to
Dany’s eyes (and the eyes of any sane person), extremely hot. “We are
going to be late but because you took long time to get dressed.”
“Well, if you hadn’t decided you couldn’t possibly last another couple hours
without ‘rewarding’ me...”
“Oh, you are complaining then?”
Dany grinned. “Well, no.”
“Ok then.”
“Hey, Ilya?”
“Hm?”
“I love you.” He glanced at Ilya, and saw him smile with contentment.
“Ya tozhe, Dany. Ya tozhe.” The silence for the rest of the drive was a very
comfortable one.
“Hey! The Dynamic Duo has decided to grace us with their presence!” Mike
Weaver called as they came through the door.
Ilya grinned. “Dany took very long time to make his hair pretty,” he said,
messing up the curls that Dany had spent about 10 seconds trying to
make ‘pretty’.
There was appreciative laughter, then Andy Sutton put his arm around Dany’s
shoulder. “Nice game, Heater, I think we owe you a drink or three.”
While the big defenseman led Dany towards the bar, Ilya took a seat next
to Slava Kozlov, content to chatter in Russian with his countryman for a
while. But he kept an eye on Dany the whole time. About an hour and a
half after they arrived, Dany headed for the back of the place alone, and
Ilya followed after a couple minutes.
The bathroom was empty except for Dany, at the sink, and Ilya made sure the
door was locked before stepping up behind him. Their eyes met in the
mirror, and Dany’s breath caught as he said, “Hey, Ilya.”
Kovalchuk stepped closer, his arms wrapping around Dany’s waist, one hand
cupping between his legs. The Russian nipped Dany’s earlobe and the
Canadian shivered, his cock stiffening. “Dva,” Ilya whispered huskily,
and Dany knew there was no way he was getting out of this one either.
It took about two seconds for him to stop considering trying.
Despite being rather disheveled, Dany returned to the bar and Ilya returned to
Slava’s table. Since they had the next day off, no one on the team had
any qualms about staying in the bar until last call and a bit beyond. It
was good team bonding, Ilya figured, watching a darts game that Dany was
currently losing miserably, probably because he was very drunk.
Then again, that wasn’t a very good excuse since his opponents were also
drunk. Ilya smiled to himself as he sipped his beer. It was only his
second, and since he was technically underage he figured he was lucky to
get away with that. Besides the bartender was going to kick them out any
minute now. He finished the beer as Dany wandered towards him, sighing
rather happily. Life was good right now. Dany was good, the team was
good. And under Bob Hartley, he was feeling a lot better about his play
and his role on the team. Before he was told he had to be unemotional, to
be responsible, to be North American, apparently. Coach Hartley just told
him he had to hustle, and that he could do very well.
He stood up and told Slava good night as Dany held out his keys. “Think you
better drive, buddy,” he said, smiling sheepishly.
Resisting the urge to kiss him right there, Ilya just put a hand on his back
to steer him outside and to the car.
He was just pulling onto I-85 through downtown when Dany’s hand was suddenly
resting on his inner thigh. Another moment and Ilya was squirming in the
seat. “Dany!”
“Yes?” he asked, blinking innocently.
“What are you doing? I have to drive you know.”
“You remember how the scoring went, Ilya? I scored…and then I scored
again...and then you scored.”
“Y-yes?”
Dany grinned, and Ilya gripped the steering wheel tightly with both hands and
tried not to run into anything.
Amazingly enough, he succeeded, and ten minutes later he pulled into Dany’s
driveway. Sighing in a mixture of relief and contentment, he looked at
Dany, who was licking his fingers and looking pleased with himself. Ilya
shook his head and buttoned his pants. “I hope your neighbors are asleep.”
In response, Dany just leaned over and kissed him deeply. Kovalchuk could
taste the whiskey he’d consumed, and while the taste of that liquor held
no particular appeal to him, it formed an intoxicating flavor when mixed
with Dany. “Inside, Ilya,” Dany finally whispered.
The Russian noticed Dany’s steps were pretty steady as they made their way
inside the house, and he handled the stairs without difficulty. He was
less drunk than Ilya thought. “So...” Ilya unbuttoned Dany’s shirt
slowly. “Tri. Kak ti khachesh?”
"Ya kha...kha...”
“Khachoo.” Ilya offered the word softly.
“Ya khachoo...tebya?”
“Is that question?”
Dany shook his head. “No. I want you.”
They didn’t really have to say anything else. Why bother with words when
actions speak even more volumes? And, more so than most, they had much
practice in understanding each other. So when Ilya cried out in Russian
and Dany in English, neither of them could understand the other, but then
again, they didn’t need to.
Comfortable in Dany’s embrace, Ilya exhaled, whispering, “Tri.”
“I think that counts as five at least,” Dany mumbled back and they both
giggled. A small moment of silence. “Hey, Ilya?”
“Hm?”
“Do you want to come with me to Miami?”
“I...”
“I mean...you don’t have to. If our positions were reversed, I don’t know if
I would want to be down there. But...I’d like it if you were.”
“I will think about it, Dan.”
“’kay.”
“Good night, Dany.”
“Night.”
They both slept easily.
Fin.