Page 35 of Home Ice Advantage

For a second, Eric stared at his phone. Sullivan wasn’t the kind of person to pull stupid pranks, but it was still a weird request.What’s wrong with you?he asked, instead.

Just give me your fucking address, man. I’ve had a long day and I’m going to stop by.

YOU’RE going to stop by? MY house?

Yeah. Are you scared I’m gonna piss on your stoop or something? I’m house trained.

It was one of the things Eric had considered, but he wasn’t about to tell Sullivan that.No.He hesitated for a second. He still wasn’t sure what the hell was going on with the extracurricular activities. He still wasn’t sure how the hell he felt about it, other than annoyed that he was apparently fucking easy for it. He was annoyed he was even considering this.

He sent his address.

Was that so hard?Sullivan asked.

I’m going to rescind the invite if you can’t behave.

Sullivan wrote,LOL, and Eric had to stop to count to ten, pinch the bridge of his nose and move on.

Eric looked around at his apartment. It wasn’t as depressing as some places. He only had a galley kitchen, but he used it. He’d taken the time to actually hang some art, and he had some plants in the window he hadn’t killed yet. He had real furniture that wasn’t from IKEA. It had made many trips with him over the years, but it was still intact.

It had been a long time since he’d invited anyone he was sleeping with back here. It had been a long time since he’d had anyone except Petey over, and Petey didn’t give a shit if his coffee table was covered in papers and books that Eric always started with the intention of finishing. Petey didn’t care if there were pots and pans drying on the counter. Who was he kidding: Sullivan probably wouldn’t care about that, either. Eric racked his brain, trying to remember when he had changed his sheets last.

Maybe that was optimistic. Given the way the last few times had gone, the odds of Sully actually seeing his sheets were not certain.

In the end Eric settled for picking up the dirty clothes from the floor of his bedroom and throwing them in the laundry basket, kicking it into his closet and shutting the door. That’d have to do.

By the time he actually got a text that saidopen your door, it was even later. Later than he would normally be considering having someone over. He opened the door and said, “You couldn’t just find someone else to bother?”

Sullivan didn’t say anything at first, just frowned at him until Eric took a step back, letting him over the threshold.

“Look,” Sullivan said. He dropped his winter coat on Eric’s floor. He looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes, the T-shirt he was wearing under his jacket still stained and smudged from whatever he’d been doing before he got there. He took a deep, ragged breath, like if he didn’t plow on with what he was saying, he’d never get it out. “I don’t want to talk, I don’t want to think, I don’t want you to be fuckingniceto me. I don’t want to have to be mature, I just—I just—”

Eric stared at him. This was probably the least Sully conversation he could ever remember having. For the first time, he didn’t have that cheerful, cocky self-assurance he usually had, the aura of a guy who was used to the world giving him everything he wanted. Eric thought about asking him what he really wanted. Instead, it was like his body reacted without his brain’s input. He leaned down to kiss him, and Sully’s mouth opened immediately, eagerly, under his.

“You want me to be mean?” he asked, pulling away, trying not to laugh at the frustrated little noise that came out of Sully’s mouth. He put one hand against his chest, walking him backward toward the couch.

“Yeah, I—” Sully licked his lips. They were dry and chapped, a little red like he’d been chewing on them. Eric wondered what the hell he’d been doing on their day off that had him acting like this.

“Well. What if I don’t want to give you what you want?” Eric said, and pushed him down on the couch. “What if I decide I’m gonna treat yousonicely—”

“Aronson,”Sully snapped, from where Eric had pushed him sprawled on the couch, “I swear to god, can you turn it the fuck off fortwenty minutes?”

Eric choked on his own laugh, but more of them bubbled up behind. “Twenty minutes? Jesus, what kind of sex have you been having?”

Sully’s whole face was red, although whether it was humiliation or fury, Eric couldn’t tell. “Lately? Just on the desk at work. And twenty minutes was being generous.”

“Wow,” Eric said, moving forward, “don’t recall any complaints from you at the time, actually. It was mostly a lot ofcome onandoh my godandplease, eh?” When he got down on the couch to straddle Sully, trapping him in place, it took him a second to gauge whether it was the right move. Sully was built like a barrel, but Eric was a lot bigger. That didn’t stop Sully at all from trying to angle his head up for another kiss, but Eric pushed him back down. “Maybe I’ll just make you wait?”

Underneath him, Sully was already squirming, although there wasn’t much room to move. Eric could feel every movement of his body, his muscular legs shifting underneath Eric’s thighs, his heart beating a million times a minute against Eric’s chest, his dick already hard.

“You wouldn’t,” he managed, his voice a little strangled.

Eric shifted his arm up, his forearm pressing just so against Sully’s neck. He could feel the Adam’s apple bob. Sully’s little gulp of surprise. Ofnervousness. “You don’t know me at all. I can be really fucking patient. And somehow, I get the idea that you’re not very good at that, either.”

Sully didn’t answer immediately, just looked up, mouth twitching like he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to scowl or to smile. When Eric pressed his forearm down again, Sully said, his voice a little strangled, “Do you know how long it took me to crack a major league roster? I’m real patient.”

Instead of arguing, Eric shifted down. Even with the wrist against his neck, Sully kissed him eagerly, mouth open and sloppy, even though his breath felt ragged and strained. He was shifting again, seeking some kind of friction, movement from Eric, anything. His hand had moved around to try to grab Eric’s ass. As soon as he did it, Eric stopped moving. He pulled his mouth back.

Sully’s eyes flew open, the scowl back again. “Comeon,” he said.

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