Page 43 of Game Misconduct

When he was lying down, Mike just stared at him for a minute, all of him, not quite believing that it was really happening. Before he could psych himself out too much he bent down and set his mouth against Danny’s collarbone, against the bruises there. It was a kiss, first, until he could feel Danny relax, and then he dug his teeth in hard and sucked, rewarded by an answering shudder that was definitely not relaxed.

He did it again, and again, hunting for the sensitive parts of Danny’s body. Digging his teeth in until he could feel Danny’s breath go out likehah ah ah. Everything was so sensitive. Nipples, obviously. Neck, yes. The curve of his ass, after Mike forced his leg up. His hip, right over the worst of the scars. Surprisingly, yes. Inside his thigh. Mike could lick and bite into any part of Danny’s body, and Danny groaned and shuddered and kept himself very still despite everything, despite the fact that his cock was leaking on his stomach, painting it with sticky streaks.

Danny’s eyes were screwed shut, and so Mike thought he could get away with teasing a finger inside of him, but the minute he tried it, Danny slapped him in the face so hard and so suddenly that Mike’s head rocked back. He shouldn’t have been so into it but it was just like every other fight they’d had on the ice, except now he was able to get what he really wanted. Would be able to get what he really wanted. Somehow Danny had just known—

“Jesus,” he gasped, dick jumping. Oh,Jesus.

“What did I tell you?”

“I have to—I have to say it.”

“And?”

“I didn’t say it.”

Danny was a picture, his body marked up with dark hickeys, his hair sticking up in all directions, sweating and trembling, and still staring at Mike like he would fuck him up if he didn’t listen. Which he could. Mike’s face stung and he was shivering now, as he licked his lips, tonguing the stitches there.

“And?”

“I want. I want to put my fingers—inside of you. I—want to fuck you with my fingers.”

Danny nodded and waved his hand vaguely at the end table, where Mike noticed lube and condoms for the first time, next to the whiskey. He was going to make a joke about how Danny had been waiting for him, how Danny had really expected a lot, but he couldn’t joke now. Everything felt weird and loaded and heavy. Both his dick and his head felt, like, hot and throbbing, dumb, moving only on instinct.

Mike fumbled clumsily, slicking his fingers up, but Danny’s hitch of breath when he slid them in, probably rougher than he should have, was worth the humiliation of having to ask. Of knowing that Danny was watching him, everything he did, his eyes hooded but open. And then it was just satisfying, watching Danny watching him, watching the way he reacted when Mike crooked his fingers up, trying to find a rhythm that felt good, watching the way he shoved back down on Mike’s hand, watching the way he twisted and swore when Mike slapped his thigh with his other hand, hard enough to make a cracking noise of skin-on-skin. Before he could do it again, Danny’s hand was around his throat, warm fingers flat against the inked ones. No one had ever touched him like that before and he swallowed hard against their weight.

“What did I tell you?” he asked again, his fingers pressing in, like Mike wasn’t doing anything to him at all.

Mike took his hand out of Danny’sassand was secretly kind of pleased when Danny made a wounded noise, even though his hand didn’t loosen one bit.

“I have totellyou,” Mike said, voice choked a little. He could feel his Adam’s apple bob against Danny’s relentless pressure, could barely talk or breathe, and he wondered if it was possible to be so turned on that you like. Astral projected or something. He didn’t entirely feel like he was in his body still. He was light-headed and grinning, stupid, loopy.

“You aresucha brat,” Danny said, and pulled him down by the neck into a kiss. Things got messy and frantic again as they rutted against each other and Danny’s tongue took him apart piece by piece and Mike panted, “I need to touch you, your dick, I need to touch your dick,” and Danny said, his fingers still resting on Mike’s throat, “Yes, fucking do it,” and reared up into Mike’s grip.

Mike wasn’t even touching himself, couldn’t even think about touching himself right now, he was so focused on Danny, on Danny’s body, Danny’s eyes. “God,” he mumbled into Danny’s mouth. “God, I’m not going to—I need to fuck you, Danny, I need to do itnow, youneedto let me up, I—god,god—”

“Yes,” Danny said, and let go long enough for Mike to fumble with the condom packet and roll it down, slick himself again. He could barely manage it with the way his hands were shaking so badly. But he did. He took a minute to look down at Danny, so thoroughly fucked up that Mike’s dick twitched again. Danny on his back, knees raised, his dick straining against his stomach, his eyes dark and his mouth swollen.

Mike pushed himself in, all at once, past the initial resistance of Danny’s body, knowing it was rough, knowing it was too fast, but Danny didn’t seem to mind, closed his eyes, breath going out in anoofnoise. It felt. It felt like nothing Mike could remember. He’d fucked other guys before, but this was different.

“Danny, Danny, I need to—I need to move.”

“Yes,” he breathed into Mike’s mouth, and so Mike did.

It took them a few awkward seconds to get the rhythm, but then Danny made another noise, one of those ragged, completely uncontrolled groans, and Mike knew he had it, and he thrust harder, faster, as Danny rose to meet him. Maybe it was just that he didn’t have to worry about hurting Danny, knowing Danny could take whatever he had to give. Knowing that Danny liked it just the way he did.

Or maybe it was just that Mike was completely losing his mind, moving on instinct, his hands braced on the headboard as his hips ground into Danny’s body. Maybe the shock of pleasure sparking up his spine, the way it felt to be inside of Danny, warm and tight, had made him lose it.

Danny’s head was thrown back on the pillow, his eyes screwed shut, his hair damp with sweat and his teeth digging into his lip, and Mike thought,I’m making him look like that, me, he looks like that for me, and he said, “I’m going to jerk you off,” and Danny said, “Ah, ah, ah—yes, yes, okay, Jesus, Mike, fuckme,” and Mike figured that was good enough.

It didn’t last long after that. He wanted to, but he couldn’t control himself, and Danny couldn’t either, apparently. He came in Mike’s hand with a noise like he was dying, come splattered on his abs, and Mike tried to stretch it out as long as he could, his hand still moving, but the way Danny shuddered, oversensitive and tortured, tipped him over the edge.

It seemed like he came for a really long time, shuddering, murmuring Danny’s name into his skin. He pulled out and half flopped, half fell on top of Danny’s sweaty, sticky body, and buried his face in Danny’s neck, mouth pressed against it. He didn’t say anything, because he didn’t trust himself to speak. Danny’s big hand splayed on his back, briefly, fingers stretched between his shoulder blades, and Mike could feel his entire body settling itself under the weight.

“Ugh, get up, or you’re gonna regret it,” Danny said finally, and Mike, with reluctance, pulled himself away and stumbled toward the bathroom to take care of the condom and wipe the worst of the mess off his stomach.

When he went back into the room, he saw that Danny had passed out. Mike just stood there staring at him for a minute. For such a strong guy, he looked strangely vulnerable like that, naked and splayed out where Mike had left him, his eyes shut and a small smile on his face. Mike’s chest did a little jump like his dick did sometimes. Like being horny except with...weird feelings.

Like Mike wanted to get back in the bed with him and wake him up and kiss him until he got hard again.

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