2minsforslashing | I have returned!

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Title: On or Off The Ice?
One-shot.
Author:

bad_bad_books
Rating: NC-17...sweet fucking :)
Pairing: The delectable Thomas Vanek and Maxim Afinogenov! If you saw their goal the other day against the Capitals, you know why! ;)
Disclaimer: They are definitely a pair on the ice, no doubt, but I can't say myself if they really are a pair off. As in, I don't know them or own them. Doy.
AN: YESH! It's me again! I've come back with some lovely Maxi and Tommy for you all!

Max chewed his way through a bag of chips as Tom stashed his dirty jersey and shorts in the hamper, pausing his finger over the 'play' button on the VCR remote.

Lindy'd sent them home with a few highlights from the last few games; their homework, basically, was to skim through the plays and see what they'd done wrong or could've done better.

Max, with his love of hockey and recently abysmal personal life, had absolutely no problem with this. Tommy, however, was another story; he criticized his own playing enough without having to see it up close and personal on screen and being required to pick it apart.

So, to make it a little more fun, they'd decided to watch together...on the same couch...barely able to be six inches apart.

If Max knew what Tom was thinking as he changed into a pair of light flannel pajama pants and a black undershirt, he was sure the Russian Mafia would be after him tomorrow. Being on the same couch with Max, who'd also changed into flimsy pjs, was going to be pure torture.

Max was as usual totally oblivious as Tom ran in and flopped onto the couch, his head landing on his linemate's shoulder, face buried in the gray tee he wore. Tom breathed in Max's scent with delight, but only as long as it took to pull himself up, not wanting to make the other man suspicious.

He should've known Max wouldn't even notice; the Russian simply turned to face the television, asking, "We watch the game now?"

Tom sighed dejectedly. "Yeah, push play."

"Okay." Max pressed the right button and stared intently at the screen. Tom tried hard not to, but he ended up staring more at Max as he watched than at the screen.

Max's eyebrows were furrowed, his lips pursed, his nose crinkled in an adorable way that only he could manage, and he was muttering to himself in Russian, now and then pointing at the screen. He was in his own world and he was beautiful.

As the first game's highlights ended, Max's attention finally waned; he blushed deeply and muttered, "What," when he noticed Tommy's eyes on him.

Tom's interest piqued; was it possible Max could feel the same as he did? There was only one way to find out!

He took a chance, praying to every deity he could think of that he wasn't about to screw up his relationship with one of the greatest friends and teammates he'd ever had.

"I was just debating whether or not we were a better team on or off the ice."

Tom gave Max a subtle leer as he said this, and the reaction pleased him immensely; Max started to stutter and he turned a red at least three shades deeper than before, shifting his eyes toward and away from Tom quickly and nervously.

"N-Not sure what you mean by this, Tommy." The way his accent deepened in his anxiety and how he barely made his way through the easy pronounciation of Tom's name were almost Tom's undoing; he was just too damn cute for his own good.

Tom inhaled deeply as he thought of what to say, stealing a few chips from Max's bag and being careful not to touch him, not yet.

"Well...we're mates, right, Max?"

Max nodded dumbly, robotically eating chips from the bag and staring at Tom.

"On and off the ice, right?"

Another nod and more stolid shoveling from the bag.

"So which are we better at? I was just wondering."

Max actually looked to be thinking about that one as he pushed away the half empty bag, rolling his eyes to the ceiling and biting his lip in thought.

"I think...we are better as teammates than off the ice, but only because we could be better if..." Max hurriedly ended his statement, flushing if possible, another shade deeper red. He grabbed a handful of chips and stuffed them in his mouth, as though to keep himself from talking anymore.

Tom leaned forward unconsciously; either he was very delusional or Max had been about to say he wanted him. Either way, he could only figure it out if Max finished what he was going to say.

"Better if what, Maxi?" He peered curiously at Max through dark lashes, playfully prompting Max to finish with his eyes and the affectionate nickname.

Max melted. "Better if...we're lovers." He snapped his mouth shut with an audible click, eyes wide at what he'd just admitted, and made to get up.

Tom yanked him back down. "Is that what you really want, Maxi?"

Max nodded but said nothing; it appeared he thought he'd said enough without digging a deeper grave. His eyes were still the size of saucers, electric blue with shock and amazement, and just a little faded with nervous fear.

Tom couldn't stop the wide grin spreading across his face. "Kiss me, then, silly." He winked and Max's jaw dropped.

Max totally forgot not to talk. "Wh-what? I kiss you? N-Now?"

Tom nodded sincerely. "If you don't, I assure you I will."

Max smiled and leant forward just the teeniest bit to caress Tom's lips lightly with his own, pressing gently once, twice, then pulling away.

It was sweet and tender and shy and so very Max, which was the best part. Tom opened his eyes slowly and met the timid ones of Max.

"That was perfect," he whispered, afraid to break such a moment. Then a smirk replaced his grin. "Dare to kiss me a little harder than that?"

Max's answering smirk was incredibly sexy as he lost all inhibitions, pulling Tom's mouth back to his by the back of his neck and latching onto Tom's lips, probing and exploring and tasting all in one. Their tongues were tangling before long; quickly though, their breath grew short, and they were forced to part, both smiling.

"Hard enough, Tommy?", Max challenged, blue eyes alight with a fire that one only usually saw on the ice right before he and Tom used their practically telepathically in sync actions and scored yet another lightning fast goal.

Tom crawled over Max, making sure to rub and tease as much as possible, and sat square on his hips. Twin erections encased in flannel met and both men groaned, bucking just a little without a thought.

"I can think of something much harder, Maxi," Tom retorted teasingly, rolling his hips and loving the flutter of lust in those blue eyes. He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it who knew where, backing off just slightly so Max could do the same.

Tom was surprised not to see sparks, so electric it felt when the naked skin of their stomachs and chests touched. They ground against each other again, heads falling forward to rest their foreheads together as they panted and moaned their pleasure.

"I want you naked," said Max, and Tom took a minute to enjoy such a bold statement from such a normally shy man, but only a minute, before he was quickly fulfilling his linemate's request, pulling down his flannel pants and throwing them aside. There had been no need for boxers; Tom had only planned to watch the game highlights with Max and then go to bed. Tom thanked God for his comfort-craving nature now, as the usual hindrance of underwear didn't exist.

Tom nodded at Max and Max slyly tugged his own pajamas down with a lasvicious swipe of his tongue across his lips, and eyes that could melt the thickest steel.

Their lips latched onto each other again, and they kissed for a long while without needing to do more, hands wandering and eyelids fluttering as they merely brought pleasure through such a connection.

It wasn't enough anymore after they pulled away, though. Making a mental note to call Stani and thank him for holding his bachelor party at his house, Tom slid reluctantly away from Max, kissing him once, twice, thrice before finally, with a whine, racing into the kitchen and digging through his junk drawer for the only condoms and lube in his house, already missing Max's mouth as he sorted through the rubbish to find the supplies.

He let out a triumphant yelp as his hands found what he was looking for and sprinted back into the living room where a naked, wanton Russian with sultry lips and innocent blue eyes waited, narrowly missing a coffee table in his eagerness. He dropped the rubbers and lube on the table and pounced on Max again, attacking his lips fiercely with a relieved moan.

When they were almost blue with lack of oxygen, they finally broke the kiss. Panting, Tom grabbed the box of condoms and tilted a questioning brow at Max, shaking the box in indication.

Max nodded, taking it upon himself to grip the box and find a rubber from it, then sheath Tom in the latex and rub cold gel over him, giggling at the little gasps and whines Tom let forth at the first touches Max administered to his aching cock.

His shyness and anxiety only returned when Tom coated his fingers and moved them down to the pucker between the firm globes of Max's ass, gently teasing it before actually slipping inside.

"I never do this before, Tommy," he whimpered, biting his lip as Tom slipped another finger and scissored a bit, preparing him deftly and gently.

Tom stretched to push his lips against Max's again, softly and sweetly. "I know, Maxi. I haven't either. But we'll get through it together, okay?"

Max nodded with a shy half-grin and kissed Tom again once before his eyes snapped shut and his hips bucked automatically as Tom brushed his gland. "What...that?", he gasped, rolling his hips against the pleasant sensations sweeping his body.

Tom chuckled, scraping his fingernails lightly over it again and watching Max's whole body jerk. "That, Max, is your prostate, or sweet spot."

Max started to buck harder, impaling himself further in hopes of hitting the spot again. "I...like. Do...again," he panted, giving Tom irresistible puppy dog eyes.

Tom obliged happily, sliding his fingers in and out quickly, making sure to press Max's prostate every time. After a while, Max was whining and begging for more in his adorable broken English, his body arching as his spot was hit over and over again.

Tom pulled his fingers from Max's body and kissed him sweetly. "Ready?"

Max didn't know sexual terms, so he simply said what he thought would work. "Love me, Tommy."

Tom swallowed. "Already do, Max," he mumbled as he slipped inch by inch into Max's warm and welcoming body.

He stopped at the hilt, taking deep breaths to keep his control as Max wiggled around with low, pained groans, trying to adjust.

After a full two minutes of Max's unmoving consent, Tom asked, "Okay?"

Max nodded, reaching around to wrap his arms around Tom's neck and arching into every slow, steady thrust Tom gave. "Oh...Tommy...yes," he murmured quietly as they moved together.

Tom kissed Max's neck, pressing his face into the warm, sweaty skin and inhaling the scent of sex and something uniquely Max. "Mm, I know, Max. So good."

They didn't last long; first timers who are so worked up usually don't. Their orgasms weren't explosive, but they were the best either had had. With a soft moan of Tom's name, Max's warm wet come splashed against his chest and Max fell into Tom's arms, even as his own climax washed over him, his hips jarring Max's a few times as he rode out the waves of ecstasy.

When it was over, both of them wished it wasn't. Tom thought hard of everything he could to arouse himself again, but try as he might, he was too tired to go again just yet. He didn't want the night to end though; he'd dreamt of Max like this with him for so long that letting go of the reality might just kill him.

Max felt the same. He was mentally searching through his limited English, trying to find the words that would persuade Tom to let him stay.

Neither of them were very graceful with words, so it wasn't a huge surprise when both of them blurted,

"I stay?"

"Will you stay?"

at the same time.

They laughed like the best friends they were and shared a long kiss before scrubbing themselves down, and, leaving the video still ready to play the second game's highlights, slugged up to Tom's bed.

They fell onto the mattress and rolled into each other's arms. Tom kissed the back of Max's neck and wrapped his arms around his waist, squeezing him tight to reassure himself he really wasn't dreaming.

Max sighed contentedly and snuggled further into Tom.

"...So now what do you think?" Tom's question broke the peaceful silence.

Max's nose wrinkled in adorable confusion. "What I think 'bout what?"

Tom laughed, pressing his still swollen lips to Max's cheek.

"Are we a better pair on or off the ice?"

Max smiled, brushing his hand across Tom's cheek, blue eyes twinkling.

"I say definitely off."

***

Plotless, fluffy smut for the win! :D. Leave me some love, darlings!

Current Mood: discontent
Current Location: Room
Current Music: Lawn mowers.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

1stcomesthefall.livejournal.com

Plotless, fluffy smut FTW for sure!! Great job, I love this! :D

From:

slasher48.livejournal.com

Hehehe, yesh. Aw, thank you!

You write Marc and Sid?! AHHH. I love that pairing! O.O

Nice icon btw ;) Groooowl.

And CONGRATS ON FC :D *hands you cookies*

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