Long Way Home (3/3)
Dec. 22nd, 2008 01:03 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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2minsforslashingTitle: Long Way Home
Pairing: Ty Conklin/Marc-André Fleury
Rating: hard R, eventually
Disclaimer: No Penguins, past or present, belong to me. Any events portrayed herein occurred only in my imagination.
Summary: Ty explores the paths that brought he and Marc together.
Word Count: 2272
Author’s Notes: I must admit, I am still a novice at writing explicit pr0n. It has taken many months of trying (and lots of encouragement from ma copine et beta extraordinaire![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
eggybread) to get to where I can rate a fic ‘R’. Hope everyone is patient with my effort. :)
Ty had a date circled on his calendar ever since he put the damn thing up on his bedroom wall, and it had nothing whatsoever to do with Veterans’ Day.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008.
And the funny thing is that he didn’t even know why. Sure, he wanted to catch up with old friends – some of the best friends he’d made in his career, in fact – but he didn’t have other reunion dates circled. October 5 and November 17 were just days on the calendar, even though two of his other former teams would be visiting the Joe then.
Ty told himself that those teams were too far back in his past. That the connection between he and they was simply not as strong.
Ty lied to himself.
And as the day neared and the local hype grew, it became clearer just why he was lying. It seemed to him that the promos of the rematch began to run on every channel, and each time he’d catch one, there was a puck sliding past Marc, shot by one of his celebrating new teammates. All the emotion of those days came trickling back, culminating in a night of dreams featuring lost smiles and tear-filled brown eyes.
But that emotion was nothing compared to the jolt Ty received in the wee hours of Sunday morning, when he opened his front door to that familiar grin, back in full force.
“Surprised?” Marc had asked him, once he’d recovered enough to invite him in.
He tried to stall, to cough, to grin sheepishly, but knew that Marc would see through all that. Honesty just seemed to be the best choice.
“Of course I’m surprised,” he replied as he took Marc’s overcoat and hung it next to the door. “Didn’t know you’d be in town quite so early.” The words sounded stilted in his ears, as if he were trying to keep Marc at arm’s length. And that was the last thing he wanted to do.
“So, Ty, where can a guy get a good breakfast here? The food on the plane was awful.”
Food. Airline food. Breakfast. Yeah, we should eat something, keep up our strength…
“Ty…?”
He’s here. He’s really here, in my living room, standing here as if he lived here. We’re both here, together. Together.
“Ty!”
Marc’s raised voice brought Ty out of his reverie. “Sorry. It’s just… just good to see you. Guess I didn’t expect you… The guys… they didn’t come with you? I mean, you didn’t come with them – you came alone? ‘Cause you said that the food was bad, and it’s never bad on team flights…”
“You’re rambling.”
I know.
The rambling was replaced with silence, as the words simply wouldn’t come. Stay with me. Don’t leave me. Sorry I left you. I miss you. He wanted to blurt them all out at once.
“Ty – you all right? You want to get some breakfast?”
“I’m not letting you back outside.”
And then no more words were necessary, as Ty bridged the distance between himself and Marc, pulling him closer, wrapping hungry arms around the still slightly chilled younger man. Before he could think straight, he felt Marc’s long fingers grasp the back of his head, gently pulling it back, cradling it as he lowered his lips to meet Ty’s.
Oh god oh god oh dear god what am I doing
But he found himself responding to the pounding of his pulse, the insistence of Marc’s kiss, the tightening in his shorts. There was no turning back, no second-guessing. Whether this was good for the team (whichever team!) or bad for either man’s concentration – it just didn’t matter. All that mattered to Ty was that Marc keep doing what he was doing.
Ty knocked off the hat Marc was still wearing, was always wearing. Seemed a shame to cover up that lovely hair, he thought as he threaded his fingers into its depths. Not like Marc could return that particular favor…
Their mouths parted and Marc’s lips found Ty’s stubbled cheek, his jawbone, up to his earlobe before Ty lost the will to think. He felt cool air swirl across his chest and glanced down to find his t-shirt had crawled up to his underarms, Marc’s eager hands exploring and tantalizing, drawing mindless groans from Ty.
This can’t be right. Feels too good to be right. We’re betraying… someone. New teammates, new employers, former and current.
But all the waiting, the denial of what Ty had been feeling almost since Day One of camp in ‘07, the knowledge that if it had been wrong back then, it would have been even more of a betrayal – all of it crested within Ty like a tsunami.
This was right. Right in a way that perhaps it wouldn’t have been before. And as he pulled Marc’s lips back to his own, pulled the younger man closer and felt the swelling desire arise between them, he knew that they had been through enough waiting.
Up the stairs they went, leaving pieces of clothing like a trail of bread crumbs in their wake. Will I need to find my way back…? Ty’s hand found Marc’s, though – the hand that could find Marc in a blackout. He tugged Marc forward, through the bedroom door, over to the low, stark bed, still rumpled from Ty’s aborted night.
“Were you ready for me?” Marc asked.
“Ready?”
“No one else here.” Marc’s eyes were full of wonder, as if he imagined Ty to have a much fuller love life.
Ty dropped Marc’s hand and cupped his cheek instead, trembling a bit as Marc leaned his head into the touch. “There’s no one else I want here.”
Marc misinterpreted his shiver. He gathered Ty closer, leaned in and whispered, “Bed would be warmer…”
Very little convincing would have been necessary to nudge Ty in that direction. A glance at Marc’s face was all it took. But a question bubbled into his mind, one that once realized, required it to be asked. “Did you come all the way for this?”
“For this?” Marc pointed at the bed. “Non. For this?” He grinned and tugged gently at Ty’s proud manhood. “Non. And not even for this.” He pulled Ty into a demanding embrace and plumbed Ty’s mouth with his darting tongue. Ty felt Marc’s fingers travel down, down his back and sides, down to clutch at his ass and pull their hips closer, hardness meeting hardness.
“Not for this, Ty…” he murmured against Ty’s lips. “I came for you.”
Ty’s gut flipped, almost as if he’d been instantly transported onto a fighter jet. He wanted to jump around like an idiot, hoot his joy at the top of his lungs, dance a jig. But instead, he wrapped one arm protectively around the back of Marc’s head and one leg around both of Marc’s before dropping them both to the Asian-style low mattress behind them.
“Are you trying to beat your competition a couple days early?” asked Marc, a wicked glint in his eye.
“You aren’t my competition now. And beating you is the last thing on my mind.” Ty looked down at Marc, drank in the body he’d seen so often last year, familiar as his own. But something had changed… His fingers danced across Marc’s biceps, his shoulders, traveled down to his pecs. “Worked out a bit over the summer?” he asked, leaning down to brush the top of Marc’s shoulder with his lips.
“It helped… easier to deal with…” Marc stumbled with the words, or the emotion, or possibly the feel of Ty’s mouth on his hardened nipple. “You were right… that night… Fuck, Ty, don’t stop…”
It was Ty’s turn to smile as the passion within Marc bubbled to the surface. More than just the obvious signs – an erection is rather unmistakable – but the catch in the younger man’s breath, drops of sweat beading on his skin, his soft, sing-song moan as Ty’s hands roamed lower and lower. They all set off a spark within Ty, one that matched Marc’s fiery gaze.
“How… how do you want this?” whispered Ty, wishing he didn’t have to spoil the moment with the mundane.
The younger man grinned in response before unexpectedly taking a firm hold and twisting, flipping their positions. Once on top, Marc slid down Ty’s body, wasting no time before encasing Ty’s shaft with his eager mouth.
Backflips, Ty thought incoherently. His body jolted with the energy to run sprints, skate suicides, turn backflips. But he remained on his back, fingers clutching the sheets in an attempt to keep control.
Onward Marc went, taking him all the way in, shattering Ty’s resolve, sending him into the stratosphere. As he approached the spark-filled summit, he felt pressure at his opening as Marc’s long fingers slid in, stretching and twisting and making way. Before he knew it, Marc was above him, dark eyes glowing with desire, hips nudging, coaxing. There was pain and pressure and it filled Ty, drawing out his climax until he wondered if breath would ever return. Marc had made Ty his own, a fact made more apparent by the teeth sunk firmly in Ty’s shoulder, the mark of the Flower.
And when any other sane man would be easing back from the precipice, Ty felt himself climbing higher, risking it all to match his partner’s passion. He heard a voice in his ear, urging him on in smooth and liquid French, and oh, that voice could rip right through him as it called him farther, lifted him higher, until at last it broke under the strain. He heard his name called out, over and over, as Marc’s final thrusts rammed home.
Later, when Ty lay flat on his back watching the sun peek through the blinds, Marc’s voice still echoing in his ears, he wondered why. Not just why they’d waited, but why they’d stopped waiting. All the rationalization of the rightness of their actions nudged at him. He felt buried in a sea of thoughts and musings, barely noticing Marc’s head rising up from the pillow beside him until he spoke.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
What could he say? We shouldn’t have done it… Shoulda just let it alone… Why now…? Why not then…? Marc wouldn’t understand it and he’d think Ty regretted what they’d done. But before he could respond, Marc leaned in close and captured his lips.
Ty tried to talk through the kiss. “Why’d you—?” But Marc’s mouth laid smooth pressure and the words came out disjointed. “Should… can’t forget… don’t regret…”
“What you did for love?” Marc sang, grossly out-of-tune.
Ty grinned in spite of himself, all questions about right and wrong vanished under the gleaming smile of his partner. Marc had it right.
He really had done it all, every path he’d followed and each step he hadn’t taken, everything for the past year, all for love. “You nailed it, my Flower.”
Marc’s voice sizzled in Ty’s ear. “Not all I nailed…”
If Ty had needed any encouragement to spend the next few hours re-discovering the joy they’d just shared, Marc had surely given it to him. He grinned widely. “You know, turnabout is fair play.”
Marc lifted himself up on one elbow to stare back at Ty. “Another one of those American phrases that doesn’t make any sense to me. What does turning around in a circle have to do with playing fair?”
“Turn over and I’ll show you…”
Hours later, after he had shown him and they lay spent in the afterglow, Ty noticed the room had rather swiftly darkened. As magical as the day had been, it was fast coming to a close, and Ty really didn’t know what to think. Was it better to just close the book here, leaving a tidy ending? Or could he fit their few stolen moments into his already-too-full life?
He felt Marc roll over in bed next to him, felt Marc’s hand searching for something as he slept. But when their two hands met, Marc’s grabbed and held on fast to Ty’s, as if he wanted to keep him close.
Ty pulled their clasped hands out from beneath the covers, reaching with his other hand toward his bedside lamp. He wanted to see how their fingers fit perfectly together, how surprisingly soft Marc’s palms were. And all the while, through all Ty’s manipulation, Marc’s fingers still quested for his own.
Even in sleep, he wasn’t letting go.
So rather than losing himself in logical thought, he lost himself in pondering the man lying next to him, the one who’d stolen his heart. He watched him breathe. Watched him fall deeper into sleep. Watched him begin to dream and smile, and realized that he still hadn’t slackened his firm grasp on Ty’s hand.
How could he even consider turning his back on what they’d found?
He switched off the light, allowed his eyes to accustom to the darkness, snuggled closer to Marc. There was no need to make the decision right this second, anyway. He sighed in resignation and the sound roused his partner. Marc’s round liquid brown eyes reflected the available light as he looked first at Ty’s face, then at their still-clasped hands.
“Désolé, mon âme. Were you trying to go?”
He doesn’t realize what he’s asking. Honestly, though, is it just that simple? Getting out of bed, getting out of his life, leaving him behind – I don’t want to do any of them.
Ty smiled and kissed the hand he held, watched as Marc’s smile mirrored the moonlight, sparkled like the stars.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Pairing: Ty Conklin/Marc-André Fleury
Rating: hard R, eventually
Disclaimer: No Penguins, past or present, belong to me. Any events portrayed herein occurred only in my imagination.
Summary: Ty explores the paths that brought he and Marc together.
Word Count: 2272
Author’s Notes: I must admit, I am still a novice at writing explicit pr0n. It has taken many months of trying (and lots of encouragement from ma copine et beta extraordinaire
eggybread) to get to where I can rate a fic ‘R’. Hope everyone is patient with my effort. :)Ty had a date circled on his calendar ever since he put the damn thing up on his bedroom wall, and it had nothing whatsoever to do with Veterans’ Day.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008.
And the funny thing is that he didn’t even know why. Sure, he wanted to catch up with old friends – some of the best friends he’d made in his career, in fact – but he didn’t have other reunion dates circled. October 5 and November 17 were just days on the calendar, even though two of his other former teams would be visiting the Joe then.
Ty told himself that those teams were too far back in his past. That the connection between he and they was simply not as strong.
Ty lied to himself.
And as the day neared and the local hype grew, it became clearer just why he was lying. It seemed to him that the promos of the rematch began to run on every channel, and each time he’d catch one, there was a puck sliding past Marc, shot by one of his celebrating new teammates. All the emotion of those days came trickling back, culminating in a night of dreams featuring lost smiles and tear-filled brown eyes.
But that emotion was nothing compared to the jolt Ty received in the wee hours of Sunday morning, when he opened his front door to that familiar grin, back in full force.
“Surprised?” Marc had asked him, once he’d recovered enough to invite him in.
He tried to stall, to cough, to grin sheepishly, but knew that Marc would see through all that. Honesty just seemed to be the best choice.
“Of course I’m surprised,” he replied as he took Marc’s overcoat and hung it next to the door. “Didn’t know you’d be in town quite so early.” The words sounded stilted in his ears, as if he were trying to keep Marc at arm’s length. And that was the last thing he wanted to do.
“So, Ty, where can a guy get a good breakfast here? The food on the plane was awful.”
Food. Airline food. Breakfast. Yeah, we should eat something, keep up our strength…
“Ty…?”
He’s here. He’s really here, in my living room, standing here as if he lived here. We’re both here, together. Together.
“Ty!”
Marc’s raised voice brought Ty out of his reverie. “Sorry. It’s just… just good to see you. Guess I didn’t expect you… The guys… they didn’t come with you? I mean, you didn’t come with them – you came alone? ‘Cause you said that the food was bad, and it’s never bad on team flights…”
“You’re rambling.”
I know.
The rambling was replaced with silence, as the words simply wouldn’t come. Stay with me. Don’t leave me. Sorry I left you. I miss you. He wanted to blurt them all out at once.
“Ty – you all right? You want to get some breakfast?”
“I’m not letting you back outside.”
And then no more words were necessary, as Ty bridged the distance between himself and Marc, pulling him closer, wrapping hungry arms around the still slightly chilled younger man. Before he could think straight, he felt Marc’s long fingers grasp the back of his head, gently pulling it back, cradling it as he lowered his lips to meet Ty’s.
Oh god oh god oh dear god what am I doing
But he found himself responding to the pounding of his pulse, the insistence of Marc’s kiss, the tightening in his shorts. There was no turning back, no second-guessing. Whether this was good for the team (whichever team!) or bad for either man’s concentration – it just didn’t matter. All that mattered to Ty was that Marc keep doing what he was doing.
Ty knocked off the hat Marc was still wearing, was always wearing. Seemed a shame to cover up that lovely hair, he thought as he threaded his fingers into its depths. Not like Marc could return that particular favor…
Their mouths parted and Marc’s lips found Ty’s stubbled cheek, his jawbone, up to his earlobe before Ty lost the will to think. He felt cool air swirl across his chest and glanced down to find his t-shirt had crawled up to his underarms, Marc’s eager hands exploring and tantalizing, drawing mindless groans from Ty.
This can’t be right. Feels too good to be right. We’re betraying… someone. New teammates, new employers, former and current.
But all the waiting, the denial of what Ty had been feeling almost since Day One of camp in ‘07, the knowledge that if it had been wrong back then, it would have been even more of a betrayal – all of it crested within Ty like a tsunami.
This was right. Right in a way that perhaps it wouldn’t have been before. And as he pulled Marc’s lips back to his own, pulled the younger man closer and felt the swelling desire arise between them, he knew that they had been through enough waiting.
Up the stairs they went, leaving pieces of clothing like a trail of bread crumbs in their wake. Will I need to find my way back…? Ty’s hand found Marc’s, though – the hand that could find Marc in a blackout. He tugged Marc forward, through the bedroom door, over to the low, stark bed, still rumpled from Ty’s aborted night.
“Were you ready for me?” Marc asked.
“Ready?”
“No one else here.” Marc’s eyes were full of wonder, as if he imagined Ty to have a much fuller love life.
Ty dropped Marc’s hand and cupped his cheek instead, trembling a bit as Marc leaned his head into the touch. “There’s no one else I want here.”
Marc misinterpreted his shiver. He gathered Ty closer, leaned in and whispered, “Bed would be warmer…”
Very little convincing would have been necessary to nudge Ty in that direction. A glance at Marc’s face was all it took. But a question bubbled into his mind, one that once realized, required it to be asked. “Did you come all the way for this?”
“For this?” Marc pointed at the bed. “Non. For this?” He grinned and tugged gently at Ty’s proud manhood. “Non. And not even for this.” He pulled Ty into a demanding embrace and plumbed Ty’s mouth with his darting tongue. Ty felt Marc’s fingers travel down, down his back and sides, down to clutch at his ass and pull their hips closer, hardness meeting hardness.
“Not for this, Ty…” he murmured against Ty’s lips. “I came for you.”
Ty’s gut flipped, almost as if he’d been instantly transported onto a fighter jet. He wanted to jump around like an idiot, hoot his joy at the top of his lungs, dance a jig. But instead, he wrapped one arm protectively around the back of Marc’s head and one leg around both of Marc’s before dropping them both to the Asian-style low mattress behind them.
“Are you trying to beat your competition a couple days early?” asked Marc, a wicked glint in his eye.
“You aren’t my competition now. And beating you is the last thing on my mind.” Ty looked down at Marc, drank in the body he’d seen so often last year, familiar as his own. But something had changed… His fingers danced across Marc’s biceps, his shoulders, traveled down to his pecs. “Worked out a bit over the summer?” he asked, leaning down to brush the top of Marc’s shoulder with his lips.
“It helped… easier to deal with…” Marc stumbled with the words, or the emotion, or possibly the feel of Ty’s mouth on his hardened nipple. “You were right… that night… Fuck, Ty, don’t stop…”
It was Ty’s turn to smile as the passion within Marc bubbled to the surface. More than just the obvious signs – an erection is rather unmistakable – but the catch in the younger man’s breath, drops of sweat beading on his skin, his soft, sing-song moan as Ty’s hands roamed lower and lower. They all set off a spark within Ty, one that matched Marc’s fiery gaze.
“How… how do you want this?” whispered Ty, wishing he didn’t have to spoil the moment with the mundane.
The younger man grinned in response before unexpectedly taking a firm hold and twisting, flipping their positions. Once on top, Marc slid down Ty’s body, wasting no time before encasing Ty’s shaft with his eager mouth.
Backflips, Ty thought incoherently. His body jolted with the energy to run sprints, skate suicides, turn backflips. But he remained on his back, fingers clutching the sheets in an attempt to keep control.
Onward Marc went, taking him all the way in, shattering Ty’s resolve, sending him into the stratosphere. As he approached the spark-filled summit, he felt pressure at his opening as Marc’s long fingers slid in, stretching and twisting and making way. Before he knew it, Marc was above him, dark eyes glowing with desire, hips nudging, coaxing. There was pain and pressure and it filled Ty, drawing out his climax until he wondered if breath would ever return. Marc had made Ty his own, a fact made more apparent by the teeth sunk firmly in Ty’s shoulder, the mark of the Flower.
And when any other sane man would be easing back from the precipice, Ty felt himself climbing higher, risking it all to match his partner’s passion. He heard a voice in his ear, urging him on in smooth and liquid French, and oh, that voice could rip right through him as it called him farther, lifted him higher, until at last it broke under the strain. He heard his name called out, over and over, as Marc’s final thrusts rammed home.
Later, when Ty lay flat on his back watching the sun peek through the blinds, Marc’s voice still echoing in his ears, he wondered why. Not just why they’d waited, but why they’d stopped waiting. All the rationalization of the rightness of their actions nudged at him. He felt buried in a sea of thoughts and musings, barely noticing Marc’s head rising up from the pillow beside him until he spoke.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
What could he say? We shouldn’t have done it… Shoulda just let it alone… Why now…? Why not then…? Marc wouldn’t understand it and he’d think Ty regretted what they’d done. But before he could respond, Marc leaned in close and captured his lips.
Ty tried to talk through the kiss. “Why’d you—?” But Marc’s mouth laid smooth pressure and the words came out disjointed. “Should… can’t forget… don’t regret…”
“What you did for love?” Marc sang, grossly out-of-tune.
Ty grinned in spite of himself, all questions about right and wrong vanished under the gleaming smile of his partner. Marc had it right.
He really had done it all, every path he’d followed and each step he hadn’t taken, everything for the past year, all for love. “You nailed it, my Flower.”
Marc’s voice sizzled in Ty’s ear. “Not all I nailed…”
If Ty had needed any encouragement to spend the next few hours re-discovering the joy they’d just shared, Marc had surely given it to him. He grinned widely. “You know, turnabout is fair play.”
Marc lifted himself up on one elbow to stare back at Ty. “Another one of those American phrases that doesn’t make any sense to me. What does turning around in a circle have to do with playing fair?”
“Turn over and I’ll show you…”
Hours later, after he had shown him and they lay spent in the afterglow, Ty noticed the room had rather swiftly darkened. As magical as the day had been, it was fast coming to a close, and Ty really didn’t know what to think. Was it better to just close the book here, leaving a tidy ending? Or could he fit their few stolen moments into his already-too-full life?
He felt Marc roll over in bed next to him, felt Marc’s hand searching for something as he slept. But when their two hands met, Marc’s grabbed and held on fast to Ty’s, as if he wanted to keep him close.
Ty pulled their clasped hands out from beneath the covers, reaching with his other hand toward his bedside lamp. He wanted to see how their fingers fit perfectly together, how surprisingly soft Marc’s palms were. And all the while, through all Ty’s manipulation, Marc’s fingers still quested for his own.
Even in sleep, he wasn’t letting go.
So rather than losing himself in logical thought, he lost himself in pondering the man lying next to him, the one who’d stolen his heart. He watched him breathe. Watched him fall deeper into sleep. Watched him begin to dream and smile, and realized that he still hadn’t slackened his firm grasp on Ty’s hand.
How could he even consider turning his back on what they’d found?
He switched off the light, allowed his eyes to accustom to the darkness, snuggled closer to Marc. There was no need to make the decision right this second, anyway. He sighed in resignation and the sound roused his partner. Marc’s round liquid brown eyes reflected the available light as he looked first at Ty’s face, then at their still-clasped hands.
“Désolé, mon âme. Were you trying to go?”
He doesn’t realize what he’s asking. Honestly, though, is it just that simple? Getting out of bed, getting out of his life, leaving him behind – I don’t want to do any of them.
Ty smiled and kissed the hand he held, watched as Marc’s smile mirrored the moonlight, sparkled like the stars.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
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no subject
Date: 2008-12-23 06:12 pm (UTC)A Flyer fan?? Dis-moi que c'est pas vrai!! ;)
no subject
Date: 2008-12-25 01:45 am (UTC)Certains joueurs québécois? Oui je comprends parfaitement ;)
Yes, a Flyers fan... I love them, family name thing. Let me explain:
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Date: 2008-12-25 01:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-25 01:54 am (UTC)