Page 82 of Home Ice Advantage

And then, before he could even think about it further, they were kissing. He wasn’t sure whether he had leaned forward first or whether Ryan had, but it didn’t matter. There was Ryan’s mouth, familiar and warm and giving under his. There were Ryan’s eyes, already closed, his eyelashes thick against his cheek. There were Ryan’s hands, slipping up to take either side of Eric’s face in his hold. There was Ryan’s tongue, insistent and hot and wet against Eric’s.

When they finally pulled away for air, Ryan said, “I told my dad to fuck off. It didn’t go that great. But I did it.”

Eric, who had been trying to figure out how he was going to maneuver Ryan back toward the bedroom, laughed. It wasn’t what he’d been expecting, but it was just...they’d both grown so much, just from knowing each other.

“Look at you, baby,” he drawled, “first you’re waiving guys, then you’re standing up to your dad? What got into you?”

“I just had, I don’t know. Enough. There’s a time and a place for it,” Ryan said. He’d shifted closer on the couch, so he was practically sitting in Eric’s lap. It was easy to gather him in for another kiss. “And anyway, there’s something else I’d like to get into me.”

“Smooth, Sullivan. Really smooth.”

“Thanks, I thought so,” Ryan said, his hand slipping underneath Eric’s shirt to touch his abs, the hair trailing down them, to rest on his hip underneath the waistband of his sweats. “I’m serious, though. It’s been a long fucking day and I want to—I don’t know.”

“You?” Eric asked. He was teasing, both the words and the fact that he wasn’t giving Ryan what he wanted, which was for Eric to touch him. He could feel Ryan practically vibrating waiting for the inevitable. “Ryan Sullivan, not knowing what he wants?”

Ryan flushed, which was both funny considering everything they’d done together since they hooked up the first time, and completely adorable. “I know what I want, I just don’t know how to say it.”

“Try,” Eric said. He wasn’t really teasing anymore. It was mostly because he couldn’t hide the emotion in his voice, as embarrassing asthatwas. “If you want something, tell me.”

“It’s stupid, but I can’t stop thinking about it, really. You know, we never actually ever talked about what this was. With us,” Ryan said. He looked up at Eric, face serious, searching. “I know you’re staying. And that’s all I can ask for. But I want—more. Maybe it’s a little fast, maybe it’s not, but I’ve never been the kind of guy to not be sure of things. And I’m sure of this. I’m sure ofyou.”

Still sitting in Eric’s lap, Eric could feel Ryan’s whole body tense, like he was expecting anything except the only thing Eric could do at this point in the cycle of knowing and falling in love with Ryan Sullivan, which was agree to give him anything he wanted.

“Are you asking me to be your boyfriend or something?” he managed, mostly because his mouth felt too dry, and his default reaction to these sorts of things was to make a joke of it.

“We’re too old for that shit, Eric. But my something. Partner. I don’t know.”

“Partner?” Eric tested it out. It still sounded awkward and strange, but Ryan in his arms felt familiar and easy, and that was the important thing. “I’m giving you a hard time—yes, I know, I’m going to give you a really hard time in a minute—but if that’s what you want, if that’s what would make you happy? You can call me whatever you want. And I’ll be there.”

Ryan smiled suddenly, so broad and proud that Eric could see the flash of his teeth. This time, he did shove his fingers in there, choking back a laugh at the way Ryan’s eyes flew open in shock, then lidded when he realized what Eric had done. Groaned when Ryan’s hot tongue slid around the pads of his first two fingers, a parody of the way Ryan would have sucked his dick. Even that sent a jolt of pleasure right down his spine, all of his nerves tingling in awareness, like they were specially attuned to the tiniest movements Ryan made.

“You want to take this to the bedroom?” Eric asked, because he really didn’t want to try fucking on Ryan’s terrible IKEA couch.

“Mhm,” Ryan said, the sound buzzing around Eric’s fingers. He pulled away far enough so that he could actually talk again, shifted himself so he was sitting on the couch again and Eric could move freely. “And that’s not the only thing I want.”

“A hard time?”

“Holy shit, he pays attention,” Ryan said, laughing. Despite the laugh, his eyes were huge, pupils dilated, and he licked his lips when he looked down and saw the outline of Eric’s erection beneath the sweats. “A hard time. Fuck me until I can’t remember my own name. You know the drill.”

“Pretty tall order,” Eric said, sliding off of the couch and holding out his hand. Ryan took it, so Eric pulled him to his feet. “Hope you’re not disappointed if I can only get you to temporary paralysis, eh?”

“I’ll withhold criticism until afterward,” Ryan said, lifting his chin.

In Ryan’s shitty little bedroom, with its low ceilings and dark windows and cramped furniture, Eric watched hungrily while Ryan stripped off his shirt and then shucked his pants and boxers, eyes hot and intent. It was kind of insane, how perfect he looked naked, like he could step back on the ice tomorrow and still hold his own against guys half his age. Short but solid. The gray hair spread across his chest, down his arms and thick thighs. And lower. Heavy balls and his thick cock, curving upward, hard just thinking about what Eric was going to do to him.

Goddamn, it was ridiculous that Eric got to see him like this, that no one else did anymore.

Eric followed suit, hastily wriggling out of his shirt and pants while Ryan pulled the blankets back on the bed. Somehow, his apartment always felt ten degrees colder than it did outside, at least until they warmed themselves up another way, and Eric was happy enough to pull them back up once the bed was shifting under the weight of both of their bodies.

It got desperate and messy very quickly, Ryan moaning when Eric dug his teeth into his shoulder; Ryan’s hands scrabbling along his back; Ryan’s mouth opening eagerly under Eric’s; Ryan’s dick leaking in Eric’s hand; Ryan’s breath panting raggedly in Eric’s ear while Eric tried to keep it together long enough to say something coherent. He wasn’t succeeding at all. His chest felt like it was going to burst right open and the words coming out of his mouth were an unorganized mess, a stream-of-consciousness narration about how good Ryan felt under him and also, unfortunately, how excited he was to continue coaching with him.

“Wait, what?” Ryan gasped. His mouth was hanging open, his eyes unfocused, and his hips were still making aborted little thrusts into Eric’s fist. “Coaching? That’s what you’re going with?”

“Pretty sure you’re into it,” Eric mumbled into his neck. “I was looking into new papers about neuroplasticity yesterday...”

Ryan groaned again then, his eyes slipping shut. “Jesus, you know just what to say to me.”

“I thought we could maybe switch up the positioning for the drills for the F1 facing a defensive-zone swarm—”

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