Page 48 of Home Ice Advantage

“We can do that later. I want to see the movie.”

And like many things that Sully did, Eric found himself giving in. Sully shifted off his lap and wormed his way under Eric’s arm, and surprisingly enough, it wasn’t actually all that bad to just sit like that. Now that the shaking had subsided and he was fully acclimated to a room with heating, holding Sully was like having a miniature furnace tucked against his body.

There wasn’t much left in the movie, just the final climactic scenes. The guilty verdict, Cates’s allocution, the sentence of $100, Jennings’s collapse. Sully watched anyway. Eric realized he’d had a hand tangled in Sully’s hair and moved it away. By the time Spencer Tracy had started ripping into Gene Kelly’s cynicism, it felt much later than it was.

Nobody to mourn you, no one to give a damn. We are all alone.

“Jesus,” Sully mumbled into Eric’s side, as Gene Kelly asked who else would defend his right to be lonely, “some cheerful holiday viewing.”

“Mm,” Eric agreed. It hit him, right then, thathespecifically wasn’t alone, for the first holiday in quite some time. The realization was a little shocking. “Hey,” he said, shifted so he could tip Sully’s chin up with two fingers. “Do you want to come to bed?”

Sully smiled, slow and sleepy. “Thought you’d never ask.”

Somehow, the sex was different this time, too, just as slow and sleepy as Sully’s smile. Eric could barely get his clothes off because Sully wouldn’t stop kissing him, wouldn’t stop touching him. For all of the desperation in his voice when he’d first shown up on Eric’s doorstep, that seemed to have faded away, replaced with the sort of confidence and surety that Eric recognized from his playing days.

Eric let him do it, let him take his time exploring what their bodies could do together. The force of that admiration, the intense study that Sully had about everything in his life turned just on him. It was a lot. But instead of being overwhelming, it was justgood.

For once, Eric didn’t feel the need to tease him or push him. He didn’t have to do that. That wasn’t what this was about, as weird as that seemed. It had been a damn long time since he’d had sex like this, and part of him didn’t even know how to react.

“Can I—” Sully asked, eventually.

“Can you what?”

“Fuck you? I really want to.”

Eric exhaled. They’d switched it up often enough already. He genuinely didn’t have strong preferences about positions; he enjoyed Sully pretty much any way that they did it. It felt different tonight, though, and he didn’t know why. It felt bigger to say “yes,” and it felt almost vulnerable to let Sully do this now. But Sully had shown up on Eric’s doorstep and Sully had trusted Eric with his family and Sully was slowly opening Eric up like a goddamn textbook.

Sully, kneeling over him, said, “You good?”

“Get it over with,” Eric said, pulling him back down into a kiss.

“Wow,” Sully mumbled around his tongue and his teeth, “not a very enthusiastic endorsement, huh—”

“Fuck me, you gigantic baby. Do you want me to tell you how good at it you are?” Sully’s ears went a bit pink, and Eric laughed. “Shit, you do?”

The thing was. Once they actually started, once they got into the rhythm of it. Eric was having a hard time stringing together his thoughts, coming up with anything to say except “Fuck, Sully, like that, like that, like that—” and having a hard time doing anything except grabbing onto any part of Sully that he could reach.

Inside of him Sully felt overwhelming, thick and almost uncomfortably full, but so fucking good. Above him, Sully’s serious face, pained and twisted like he was trying so hard to hold himself back, sweat beading his forehead, in and out of focus whenever he managed to coordinate himself to smash a sloppy kiss against Eric’s mouth. Eric reached up again and touched his cheek.

“What—what?” Sully managed.

“You’re very good at fucking me,” Eric said, and Sully came with a stupid little groan.

His whole body seized up, collapsed on top of Eric, and he gasped, “Oh my god, I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Eric said, wincing a little as Sully pulled out. He pushed himself up into a sitting position, even though his whole body was still trembling on the edge. “You can make it up to me.”

Sully didn’t answer, just looked up at him with a question in his eyes. He went down easily enough when Eric pushed a hand at his chest, then flinched when Eric shifted and straddled his thighs. “What are you—”

“Jerking off on you, obviously.”

Sully’s eyes, still a bit post-sex sleepy, opened wide with surprise, but he didn’t pull away. He licked his lips, watched while Eric took himself in hand. Even though he was spent, his gaze was still so fucking hungry that Eric knew he wasn’t going to be able to last long.

He didn’t. He forced his eyes open when he came; watched his come striping Sully’s broad chest. Sully’s little exhale when he did it was irresistible and before Eric could spend too much time thinking about it, he had leaned forward and they were kissing again, the kind of slow, devouring kiss that annihilated all thought from his head, even the exhaustion from the late night and getting thoroughly fucked.

Eventually, Sully pulled away and said, “That was pretty hot, but, uh, it’s getting kind of disgusting now—let me up.”

Instead of answering, Eric smeared his hand through the mess on Sully’s chest, ignoring his yelp of dismay and disgust, the sudden shift of his muscle as he tried to use a wrestling throw to toss Eric right off of the bed. The element of surprise worked in his favor.

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