Puck Shots, page 12
I pull him against me, his hard cock pressed up against mine, and I lift my hips as I squeeze his ass again.
He moans.
“Oh, yeah.”
My cock pulses, begging for more friction. I lift my hips again, and his suction on my neck strengthens as he grinds against me. One hand grips the back of my neck, the other on my hip, encouraging me on.
“Cos,” I sigh, and his grip tightens.
His mouth comes away with a sort of pop as the suction is released. I bet there’ll be a pretty solid mark there in not too long. He hovers above me, with that cheeky smirk I’ve come to love.
“Can I kiss you again?” he asks, and I nod, but instead of moving to my lips, he pushes up, straddling my legs, tight round ass resting on my throbbing cock.
“Umm, what…”
“You said I could kiss you.”
“Yeah, but then why…?”
He lifts the hem of my shirt slowly, his hungry gaze following it up, the backs of his fingers brushing gently against my skin and sending ripples of pleasure through me. My cock pulses, and one of his eyebrows picks up.
“If you liked that, you’re going to love this,” he says, and he lifts my shirt up over my chest.
He sweeps his fingers down my chest.
“I love these tiny freckles,” he says, licking his lips and then leaning forward to swipe his tongue over my hard nipple.
“Holy fuck,” I breathe, gripping the bedcovers at my side.
“That’s exactly what I like to hear. Don’t hold back.”
“Won’t someone hear me?” I ask, and he peers up at me through thick lashes.
“Most of the house is empty, but if you’re worried, I can put on some music, too.”
“Yes, please,” I say, and he reaches into his back pocket, pulls out his phone, and a few seconds later, the campus radio station is playing through the room. Loud enough to mask our voices but not so loud that he wouldn’t be able to hear me. He gently tosses it to the floor beside the bed.
“Now, where was I?” he asks, leaning forward again and sucking my nipple into his mouth completely.
“That’s so…good,” I sigh, and when he grinds his ass in circles on top of my groin, I can’t hold back and moan again. “Oh, god.”
“Hmmm, you taste so good,” he mumbles, sliding his tongue over to my other nipple, circling the bud with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth.
I close my eyes, trying to maintain a semblance of control, but my cock is about ready to explode with him grinding his ass on top of me. I breathe slowly, trying to hold my composure, as he moves his kisses down my chest, his ass lifts off my groin, and the mattress shifts as he makes his way down. I’m half convinced I’m dreaming and worry that if I open my eyes, I’ll find I’m alone, and this was all in my head, but then he unbuttons my jeans and my eyes fly open.
It’s not a dream. Cosmo is hovering above my waist, his perfect lips kissing along my V as he unzips my jeans.
“I want to taste all of you,” he says between kisses.
“I’m not sure I’ll last long,” I admit, and he licks his lips.
“That’s okay, I’m pretty sure I’ll come the second I have you in my mouth.”
I sweep my fingers through my hair. “Oh fuck. See? You saying stuff like that’s just going to make me come sooner.”
“Just make sure you’re in my throat when you do.”
He grabs the waist of my jeans and pulls them down, my underwear going with them until they’re wedged under my balls, and he’s hovering over my leaking hard cock.
“Fucking perfect,” he says, gripping my base. He holds my stare as I grip the bedcover, and he runs his tongue up the length.
“Oh yeah,” I moan, and he circles my cockhead with his tongue, then swallows me deep into his throat. I white-knuckle the covers, hips rising to meet him as my toes begin to curl. The heat of his mouth, the suction, and swirl of his tongue combined has waves of electricity pulsing through my body.
“Fuck, Cos, oh god, that’s good.”
He sucks me deep, releasing briefly only to take me deep into his throat again. It tightens around my cock head, and my balls pull up tight. I can’t hold back anymore. I explode. His free hand slides under my ass and grips me tight, pulling me to him with every pulse of come, swallowing every drop until I soften slightly in his mouth.
“Did you come, as well, or can I taste you now, too?” I ask as he sits up, still straddling my legs.
“Stay there, I’ll come to you,” he says, and he stands on the bed, unzips his pants and shoves them all the way down. His perfect hard cock is glistening with precome, balls tight, shaven, and perfect, hovering above me.
“Are you just going to stand there teasing me with your perfect cock?” I ask.
“You think my cock is perfect?”
“Looks pretty perfect from here,” I say with a grin. “I might need a closer look though, just to be sure.”
“How close?” he asks, stepping out of the confines of his pants and moving up the bed.
“Close,” I say, reaching down and holding his ankles gently as he takes another step.
“How about this?” he asks, hands on hips, head turned to one side, chest puffed up like he’s some superhero posing for the camera.
“Still not close enough. My eyes aren’t very good, remember.” I chuckle.
“You’re wearing your glasses.”
“Yeah, but it’s an old prescription,” I say, and I slide my hands up the sides of his legs. “I want to be close enough to taste you.”
“Ohhh,” he says with a smirk, and then he lowers himself to his knees, straddling my shoulders with impressive flexibility, his balls hovering just above my chest, cock in perfect position.
“How about this?”
“Perfect,” I say and then bring my hands up, grab his ass, and lean in and suck his cockhead into my mouth.
“Oh, fuck, Eli,” he groans, and I squeeze his ass, pulling him forward and deeper into my throat. His salty precome makes me want more, more of his cock, more of his taste. I want him to fuck my mouth harder, faster, but I also want this to be good for him.
I pull him against me, forcing his cock deep into my throat. I make sure to stay relaxed, keeping my throat open and swallowing a little when his cock head is deep enough that it pulls on him and he groans louder, gripping the bed head behind me.
“Oh god. I’m not going to last long if you keep doing that. “
He pushes back, withdrawing almost all the way, and I take the opportunity to circle his cockhead with my tongue.
“Fuck, Eli. Fucking hell, that’s so good.”
“Mmhmm,” I replied, pulling him deep again.
I peer up through my lashes just as he lowers his head and lets out a whine, watching me suck him deep into my throat again. Little noises and gasps coming from him with every thrust. When it looked like he was too close, I pull off and turn my head and my attention to his balls for a moment, sucking one softly into my mouth before swiping my tongue up his length and taking him again. The delicious sound of his moan urging me on.
“Don’t tease me like that again,” he groans, but that makes me only want to do it more.
My wet dream of us together doesn’t compare to actually having him, and I will do everything I can to make this last as long as possible. I come off again, and he whines.
“Please, with a cherry on top—ohhh that’s good, too,” he says, eyes fluttering closed as I suck and draw one of his balls down a little. He brings a hand down to grip himself, and I reach over and swat him away.
“No touching,” I say, and he bites his lower lip, pleading gaze boring down on me. “I promise, I won’t tease you anymore,” I say, and to prove I’m telling the truth, I take his leaking hard cock deep into my throat again, swallowing his cock head the way he likes and making his fingers white-knuckle the bedhead as a rolling growl escapes his lips.
I love that I’m making those sounds come from him, that I’m making him so hard that his cock is practically throbbing in my mouth as his balls get tighter and tighter.
“Fuuuuck, Eli, oh god. Oh yeah. Fucking mother of a fucking, oh holy hell.” He cries out as I repeat the move over and over. “Oh god, I’m going to come.”
I make a noise that I hope he takes as approval and dig my fingers deep into the cheeks of his ass, so there’s no confusion about how much I want to taste him.
The first hot, salty bursts hit the back of my throat, and I swallow them along with his cockhead, and when he coats my tongue on the way back, it’s perfect. Salivating, I swirl his come around his shaft as he explodes more with each thrust until he’s completely spent.
He slips free and swings his leg over to move to lie beside me.
“You are going to have to teach me how to do that,” he says through heavy breaths, one hand resting against my chest. “I’ve never come so hard. I should kiss you more often.”
“You totally should,” I reply with a grin, and he leans forward and kisses me again, his tongue forcing its way past my lips, mixing the taste of us together and holy fucking hell it’s better than anything I’ve ever had in my mouth. I grip the back of his head, deepening the kiss as he pulls me to him, repositioning himself to lie under me as he shoves my jeans further down. The heat of his naked body pressed fully against me like a wall of fire, sending electrical pulses through every cell.
He breaks our kiss for a moment, gaze moving from my eyes to my glasses that have slipped halfway down my nose.
“Here,” he says, reaching up and taking them off, gently placing them on the bedside.
“Now, where were we?” he asks, and I lean in close, rolling my hips a little as I do, his cock shifting to wedge right beside mine.
“I think here is pretty good,” I reply, and then I move in and kiss him again.
***
The rest of this week flies by in a blur of perfect moments in public mixed with the most mind-blowing hookups in the world in private. Things like meals together, or with the guys in the house, playing chess, and Cosmo helping quiz me on the biomechanical principals for class, become the things we basically used to fill the time needed to catch our breaths. He still has training most days and his own classes, too, but when he’s not there, he’s with me and it feels amazing.
“That was great,” I call out to him as he perfectly lobs the puck over the head of Chang, landing it right on the ice in front of Luka, who sends it into the net. It’s a risky play. There is no official rule against doing it, but the player has to be careful not to use their hand or high stick it illegally. I was actually able to mirror a lot of the calculations between this play and the lacrosse overhead pass Sam has me working on. But I won’t tell Cosmo that.
“Still feels a little stilted,” he replies, and I shake my head.
“You’ve got the moves down now. When you’re in the game, they’ll come like second nature to you, just wait and see,” I try to reassure him, but he tightens up a little and shrugs. He’s been doing that more and more lately. Mostly whenever anyone mentions the scouts or his chances of getting drafted. It’s like his body wants to curl in on itself and just disappear. I should know. It’s the same way I used to be wherever I was forced into social settings. I found my way of coping; the little label origami I use to keep my focus and my fingers distracted. Maybe Cosmo needs something like that to help him through.
I catch him rubbing the spot on his wrist where he draws the lightning bolt. Maybe that is his way of coping. If it is, it’s not working so great anymore.
“Luka, lets run it again. It has to be perfect,” he yells, and they both return to starting positions. They both look exhausted, but since the list of players to watch came out with their names on it, it ignited an even greater intensity to their sessions. The coach doesn’t really like them doing extra training on top of his planned sessions, but he gets why they’re doing them and so resigned himself to sending a trainer in after an hour or two to force them to call it quits.
They run it three more times together, only landing it once when Luka calls it a night and heads for the showers. Cosmo isn’t done yet, and as I watch him push himself harder and harder, the gap between the guy on the ice and the one who laughs at my terrible jokes grows wider, but I can’t fix him. He isn’t a problem I need to solve. So I don’t try. I just sit there, cheering when he gets it and trying not to mirror his disappointment when he doesn’t.
15
Cosmo
I’ve been pushing myself hard all week to get ready for this next game. More so since the NHL CSS list of Players To Watch, came out. Scouts at the games is one thing but being actually named in a list of players they’re tracking makes me more nervous than I thought it would. There is just so much riding on this. My whole future in fact. Coach thinks the advisors will come sniffing around now, too, but he also made it clear he wants our focus on this season. On making the Frozen Four and possibly winning the whole thing. That’s what I want, too, because as devastating it would be to not get drafted, It would be totally shit to lose the season on top of it.
“Did you see the media box is packed?” Luka asks, pointing up into the stands to where the media and scouts all sit ready for the match to begin. It’s like having a giant beacon bearing down on you with them all in one spot. Like I get it, they have a clear view of the rink from there, but fuck, what a way to put the pressure on. But that’s what hockey is. Pressure. Pressure to get the puck first, pressure to get up to the cage, to score, to win. My brain starts spiraling, and I strip off my gloves, shoving them under my arm before tracing along the lightning bolt I redrew on my wrist this morning.
“You look a bit green, you okay?” Luka asks, and I swallow the lump that’s risen in my throat, but my mouth is dry and it doesn’t budge much. I trace over the bolt again. My finger brushing lightly over the black ink as I try to quiet the racing thoughts of impending doom.
“Looks like your boy’s here,” Luka says, and my eyes immediately shoot up and follow his stare to where Eli is sitting. He’s three rows back, his glasses perched on the end of his nose. The second he locks eyes with me and smiles, the noise in my head silences. How does he do that?
“You can’t say he isn’t your boy anymore. Is that your jersey he’s wearing?”
“Yep,” I beam, loving the way it looks on him. He’s practically swimming in it, given its size. Thankfully, he tried it on after it was washed or I doubt it would be smelling all that nice. I sweat like a motherfucker out there on the ice.
The cool air fills my lungs as I skate out to starting positions, and when the whistle blows, my nerves fall to the back of my mind, my focus entirely on the play. We win the opening face-off and Rover has the puck. He passes to Luka, and I shoulder the player guarding me and take off as Luka sends it. I pick up and zoom up the side, but there’s two of them coming at me, so when I spot Tyler on my right I shoot it over. He collects, fakes out one defender, then shoots. The puck bounces off the goalie’s skate and is picked up by the opposing team. Not the greatest start but at least we’re at their end. Luka has them tied up in the corner, sticks and skates clawing for the puck. The number twelve elbows Luka in the face but Luka shakes it off but this guy mustn’t want to play today because he drops his gloves and grabs Luka by the collar of his jersey before laying in three quick punches. I rush over. The crowd is cheering and hollering like a jungle roar egging him on. The whistles are already blowing before I get there. I pull the number seventeen out of my way and then get between the number twelve and Luka.
The linesmen get between us and take him over to the side of the rink. I turn to Luka.
“Dude, what the fuck was that?”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Well something set him off.”
Luka smirks.
“What?” I ask, and he leans in close.
“He asked me if I liked the D, too, just like you. So I asked if he was hitting on me because he smelled delicious.”
I burst out laughing.
“You fucking didn’t?”
“What? He did. He hit me against the wall and I got a lung full.”
“Dude, you are so gay.”
“Straight guys can like smelling other guys.”
The speakers sound and call the penalty.
“Number twelve, red, five minutes for fighting and a game misconduct.”
Their supporters don’t like that, but what did they expect? The rules are pretty strict in the NCAA. No goons here. You throw a punch; you pay the price. I might have been quick to get between them but I wasn’t going to actually do anything except block. I can’t exactly impress the scouts from back in the locker room now, can I?
“Look at that. I scored us a power play.” Luka laughs.
“Now don’t waste it,” I reply, and we head into position for the face-off.
The second the puck drops, Rover sends it to Chang, who sends it back to Luka, then it’s over to me. I send it over to Rover again, then move across the ice, but when Rover tries to pass to Luka, their number seventeen collects it and makes a dash up the ice. I fly after him and am right there with him in what feels like two seconds. He looks for somewhere to send it, but my stick comes down, and with the steal, I spin and take off back up the ice. I could try for a slapshot, but Luka is moving up the left side with no one guarding him. I shoot off the puck to Luka, he flicks it into the back of the cage. The horn sounds, and I collide with him and Rover a second later.
“Wooo, nice shot, Luka,” Rover cheers.
“Thanks to Flash’s steal.”
“Group effort, guys,” I reply, scanning the crowd for Eli. He’s on his feet clapping with the other supporters, a huge proud smile on his face, and my chest swells at the sight of him. The coach calls out a fresh line, and I find I’m watching Eli more than the game as I catch my breath and wait for the next change up.
***
“You played so well,” Eli says when I find him after the game waiting outside the rink.
