The Trade Deadline by A.L. Heard

Author:A.L. Heard [Heard, A.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9798991188104
Publisher: A.L. Heard

Chapter 23

Lars

Normally, Lars dreamed. He couldn’t usually remember a damn thing after, only the vaguest impression he’d been somewhere or doing something, but enough that he knew he’d dreamed. It was his marker for a good night's sleep.

Lars hadn’t dreamed much since Portland. And for a while before leaving Portland, too. He hadn’t been doing well towards the end. He’d wake up, feeling like he’d just closed his eyes.

Settling into Baltimore had helped a bit, though the start of the season made him dog tired, and any bad nights quickly stacked up to make him more and more exhausted.

Last night, he’d dreamed. A lot.

He had no idea of what. The only thing that lingered was the vivid sensation of skating and the clear brown of Ryan’s eyes, the rest of the details a murky mess that slipped away before he could try to grasp them. He was content with what he had, though, and he sighed as he burrowed deeper into his blankets to enjoy the last few moments of bliss before he woke up alone.

Of course, burrowing deeper into his blankets actually meant pulling Ryan closer to his chest and burying his face in his hair.

“Oh,” he gasped, disentangling the dreams from the memories of the very real night he’d spent with Ryan. He’d been half hard before, but the promise of a warm body sent a bolt of lust through him. Lars rocked forward, pleased to feel bare skin against bare skin, and slid his left arm up Ryan’s chest. He traced a nipple, felt Ryan shudder against him, and then continued upward until his hand rested lightly but possessively around his neck.

“Can I fuck you?” he asked as he mouthed at Ryan’s neck, alternating between sucking and kissing at the sensitive skin there. He kept thrusting, enjoying the feel of his cock sliding along the cleft of Ryan’s ass.

Ryan groaned, pushing back to meet Lars’s movements. His hand came up to hold Lars’s wrist where it held his throat. He didn’t pull him away or encourage him to tighten his grip, just stayed there like the contact grounded him.

“Please,” Lars whined. His fingers flexed and he could feel his cock leaking pre-come. “Can I fuck you?”

Ryan ground back against him harder than before, both their movements becoming more desperate. “If you want me to answer,” he grunted, “you’re gonna have to speak in English. I have no idea what you’re saying.”

More awake by the second, Lars forced his brain to switch gears. “Can I —” He gasped. “Can I fuck you?”

Ryan’s hips stuttered. “You can do whatever you want to me,” he gritted out eventually, “but I'm not gonna last long.”

Lars wouldn’t either, admittedly. Now that he’d shaken off more of his grogginess, he was also pretty sure he didn’t have condoms. He knew both of them were healthy—the team’s medical screenings assured that—but he wasn’t a fan of the mess. As he reluctantly let go of Ryan to roll towards the nightstand, he searched blindly for lube, not even convinced he had much of that.

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