by me
Rating: R, I guess. They say fuck a lot. Or, Erik says fuck a lot.
Summary: Bates/Erik stuff.
Notes: more shortness. I officially hate Gary fucking Roberts now. As do the rest of the fans. We booed him. A lot. He high-sticked Colesy in the face in the second period, and when he came back out on the ice, the BBC line was there, and Roberts said "What are you doing back out here? You should be getting some stitches, shouldn't you?" And my favorite sign in the ESA: "Hey, Gary, do you know what 'A' stands for?" We're going after him with a tenacity usually reserved for Scott Stevens.... And I am completely convinced that there's something wrong with Erik. He left at least one shift early. He's...off. I'm worried about him.
Bates watched worriedly as Erik slid into the front seat. He closed his eyes as Bates started the ignition and pulled out of the parking lot, then reached over blindly until Bates entwined their fingers. "Dammit. Dammit. Dammit."
"Baby, are you ok?"
"No," Erik muttered through clenched teeth. "No, I'm not fuckin' ok."
"Jesus," Bates muttered, and pulled the car over on the side of the road. "Come here." He pulled Erik into his embrace, stroking his hair. "It's ok, Colesy."
"No it isn't. We lost. We lost and we were supposed to win and I played like shit and Gary fucking Roberts is all over me all the fucking time and I fucking hurt, dammit!"
"Ah, Erik," Bates sighed. But there wasn't much he could say. 'We'll win Tuesday' was understood. 'You should be honored to have Gary fucking Roberts all over you' was kind of useless. Erik didn't believe him when Bates complemented his play. And there wasn't much he could do regarding the injury. So he settled for, "I love you, Colesy."
"I want to hurt him, Bates. Do you think O will let me?"
"I don't think Jeff will have a real say in the matter. But don't change the way you play for one guy. That's stupid."
"Yeah," Cole sighed.
"Can I drive now?"
Erik released him. "Yeah, yeah. I guess."
They passed the rest of the time in near silence. Bates followed Erik up to their room upon reaching the house. "Go to sleep, Erik."
"I want you, though."
"You're exhausted. And injured. You'll fall asleep on me."
"I will not." As if demonstrating, he pulled Bates over and kissed him deeply. The winger felt his knees and resolve weaken. That was common side effect of Erik's kisses.
"I guess...I could put you to sleep."
"I love you, too, Bates. Always."
Smiling, Bates pulled off Erik's shirt and pants, kissing his chest. Even battered, he was beautiful.
Erik tangled his fingers in Bates' hair as he pressed kisses down his stomach, and slipped off his boxers. Erik moaned. The pain was lessening with every tough. When he came, crying out, it was gone.
Bates crawled back up the bed, settling against Erik. The rookie reached across and curled his fingers around his lover's cock, pumping it until Bates came too. "It makes me feel better when you're close."
"I'm glad," Bates whispered, pulling the covers over them both and snuggling close, kissing Erik's neck and collarbone.
"Loveyousomuch."
Bates smiled. "Good night, Erik."
"Night," he breathed, and was asleep.