Page 9 of Goaltender Interference

“Tell me to go.”

“Matt—”

“If you want me to go, tell me to go.”

Matt’s mouth set in the same determined way it used to look when they played each other, right after they’d broken up, like he was ready to crash the crease and fight Aiden at a moment’s provocation, like all he needed was a signal.

They’d done it, once, right after Matt got married, beat the shit out of each other before the linesman could get in betweenthem, kept fighting even then. Matt, focused only on Aiden and flailing, had blacked the linesman’s eye. They’d both gotten game misconducts. It was the only real fight Aiden ever had. After that, Matt barely even looked at him unless he was shooting on the net, and Aiden thought, every single game, about slashing his leg with his stick, giving him a shove, getting some kind of reaction, any reaction.

He never did.

Now Matt’s eyes fixed intently on Aiden’s face, the same look that used to make him shiver, like Matt could see right through him, like Matt knew everything about him and still desperately wanted to know more. Aiden licked his lips, trying to think of what the hell to say, but all he could do was lean forward and crush his mouth against Matt’s.

“Tell me to go,” Matt mumbled into the kiss.

You know I can’t,Aiden wanted to say, but instead, he walked Matt backward to the couch. It wasn’t a very comfortable couch, made more for aesthetics than with the expectation that anyone would sit on it, but it was wide enough.

He pushed Matt down to a sitting position. Slid down to straddle his lap. It was surreal how much time had passed but how his body still remembered so clearly doing this hundreds of times before, remembered exactly how it felt to press up against the hard length of Matt’s body.

“Aiden—”

“This is sogoddamnstupid.”

“Mm,” Matt agreed, because Aiden was kissing him again, because his hands were sliding under Aiden’s shirt, tugging it up.

“You shouldn’t be here. This is such a bad idea.”

Matt’s thumb caught against Aiden’s nipple, lightly, then a sharp press of his nail. He swallowed Aiden’s gasp with his mouth. Did it again. “Tell me to go.”

“I hate you,” Aiden said instead.

It didn’t sound convincing. He didn’t even mean it, not anymore, he was just so tired. It had been so long since he thought about this. It had been so long since he put it to rest. And now his entire body was on fire with the way Matt touched him, the way he touched Matt.

Matt, surging up against him eagerly, grinding his hips into Aiden’s. Matt’s hands, teasing and searching for the sensitive spots he still knew on Aiden’s body, laughing when he found them, and Aiden swore and twisted against him.

“I know,” Matt said.

Aiden mouthed at his jaw. Bit his earlobe, sucked it briefly and dug his teeth in again.

Matt groaned. “Fuck.God—I hated you, for so long, for so—”

“Matt, can we just—can you just—without—”

Matt stopped moving, his hands very still on Aiden’s collarbone, his neck. Then his thumb brushed a line along Aiden’s shoulder. His voice was scoured raw. “Whatever you want, baby.”

Aiden’s dick jerked, leaking, and Matt swore. Maybe Aiden should have been embarrassed, that he was still so easy for Matt’s endearments, Matt’s hands, but he was too busy exploring Matt’s body. The same boy he’d always known; the man he didn’t know at all. He was still just as responsive under Aiden’s hands, still just as eager, although Aiden’s fingers caught on old scars he’d never seen before, tracing the lines of them at Matt’s shoulder and his hip and his knee.

Impatiently, he tugged Matt’s shirt up and over his head, but he didn’t have much time to admire the view before Matt pushed Aiden off his lap and down onto the couch. They wrestled, flailing arms and limbs, the same way they always had. The only difference was that Matt felt heavier on top of him, pinning him down.

Maybe that was just Aiden, getting old and tired.

Aiden pushed experimentally at the hands circling his wrists, but there wasn’t a lot of give, and he wasn’t trying to turn this into a real struggle. Matt stared down at him with a wild, half-panicked expression, like if he looked away, Aiden would disappear. Aiden couldn’t tell him, in enough words, how he could never do that.

“Can I suck you off?” Aiden asked instead, a faint feeling of satisfaction when Matt swallowed hard. “You should do it like this. Hold my arms down, fuck my face, comeon.”

“Jesus Christ, Aiden, you haven’t changed at all.”

Matt pulled away to struggle out of his pants and boxer briefs, and then he was moving up Aiden’s body, dick nudging at Aiden’s lips, his hands pinning Aiden’s arms down again.

---