2minsforslashing | Clearer in the Winter (Reply)

Title: Clearer in the Winter
Rating; Warnings: NC-17. Sssmmmuuuttt
Pairing: Max Talbot / Petr Sykora
Disclaimer: If this is true...I really don't even think I want a part in it.

Part two of four season themed chapters.
Fall | Winter | Spring | Summer

Comments: Ummm...yeah. once again, hats off to

nofaves for her envelope pushing in Pens bdsm. And of course, to

more_unknown, the reason things like this don't just stay in my head and instead find their way onto shameful, shameful paper.

I still hadn’t learned to tell when it was coming. After so long being around someone you know when something is off, you know when something just isn’t right. The only problem is that something is always off with Petr. Only no else notices. They don’t know the things he looks at with those same eyes, what he laughs at in that same way. If they did, maybe they’d be as unnerved around him as I was.

Cleaning off the snow on my car windows was the most vulnerable part of my days, standing in the parking lot in my space near his, where he knew I would be. It was the easiest time for him to catch up with me. I made it a point to get out of the locker room as quickly as possible after practices and games, but couldn’t stop myself from clearing my windshield a little too slowly for a quick escape, glancing over my shoulders, afraid. And maybe something else.

It never came with a warning. Some days he would already be waiting near my car. Some days he would walk out just after me, asking me what my hurry was. Some days he didn’t show. Those were the most common, and the worst. As much as I wanted to dread seeing him standing there in the snow next to my car, steam rising off of his still-wet hair, looking at me expectantly, I felt abandoned when he wasn’t. I wanted to ask him why he picked the days he did and why he left me some days, not understanding what I had done wrong.

“What took you so long?” I looked up from my keys that I had been fumbling through to see him standing there. The pit of my stomach dropped. I sighed in relief. I didn’t understand a fucking thing about myself.

“Didn’t know I had anyone waiting for me.” He was mocking me, of course. I had been the first person out of practice. Or at least I had thought I was.

He laughed, walking around to the driver’s side door of my car. “I’ll drive.” He held his palm open for the keys. I threw them over, hesitating slightly. This was a new one. I wanted to ask, but I knew I wasn’t supposed to. Wasn’t allowed. I climbed into the passenger seat, trying to convince myself that nothing out of the ordinary was going to happen. Maybe we were going to Eat ‘n’ Park; I was kind of in the mood for pancakes. Something told me not to get my hopes up.

We ended up at a Holiday Inn just outside of the city. I didn’t get it, because we always had my house to go to if we needed to be alone, and I started to get a little nervous as we walked into the lobby. Every once in a while he would do something new that scared me, something that went beyond my limits. He had done it last time, had tied me to my bedpost, blindfolded, and left me. He came back what must have been hours later and gently tried to calm me down, tried to stop my panicked tears, wipe away the traces of blood from my strained wrists. The rest of the night he just laid there with me, not asking for anything. I wasn’t sure if it was remorse or pity or something else that I couldn’t understand. I didn’t care. I had started to realize that I really had gotten myself into this and that I was staying in it for a reason. Some part of me loved every bruise, every abuse, every fucking kink he exploited. I just didn’t want to be alone.

Apparently this had been planned beforehand, as Petr just gave them a name and got a key in exchange. That was weird to see, as I usually got the feeling that our little run-ins were mostly improvised. Knowing he had considered a plan of action beforehand was strange. It was like our first night together. Like he had to come up with a way to make sure he was right about something, had to be more in control than normal just to test the waters. I wondered why he never just asked me but then remembered that the only times we spoke as equals were in the locker room or after whatever was planned had already transpired.

The room was your average hotel room. I looked around and thought of every hotel room murder scene I had ever seen on television shows. CSI. Without a Trace. Dexter. I’d believe Petr had it in him. I turned to him, grinning, thinking of him with his own television show, but stopped smiling when I saw the look on his face. It was a look I had rarely seen him with, one I had never seen him with when we were alone. He looked nervous. I was immediately nervous myself. “Hey, is everything okay?” I moved a foot forward to walk closer to him, but couldn’t bring myself to keep going. I had no idea what was coming.

“Everything’s fine.” He sounded mostly sure of himself. He stood awkwardly for a moment, looking at me, and then walked over to the bed and sat down, taking off his shoes. He tossed them to the corner, followed by his socks. I kicked my own off as well, unsure of what was going on. I sat down next to him. He looked over at me with another face I had never seen him with, but one I understood. He wanted me to kiss him. I leaned in, half expecting him to pull away and laugh at me, but instead met his lips. He responded, kissing me back less aggressively than I was used to, but still warmly and enthusiastically. He softly nipped at my lower lip and sucked lightly, and shifted his body closer to mine.

His actions were so familiar to me, so much like every woman I’d ever taken to bed. My instincts told me that he wanted me to take charge, but my rational mind told me that there was no way it was possible. Instincts, however, always win. I found myself gently guiding him back onto the bed, appreciating this new way of feeling him, the gentle pressure of his tongue, the warmth of him under me, the ability to explore his body with my hands. I helped him out of his shirt and ran my hands over his chest, looking down at him, both confused and wanting. He looked like he might feel that same way.

Being reassured that I was doing what was expected of me, I fell more into my role, kissing him harder, taking the time to find his own weak spots. Just below his jaw bone on the right. Just above his adam’s apple. Right at the base of his neck, that was his favorite. With every brush of my lips, every flick of my tongue, I found something new. What would make him gasp in surprise, what made his hands tightly grip my waist, what made his hips arch into mine. The sort of knowledge I had never been afforded when tied to his headboard, begging for mercy.

I started unbuttoning my own shirt and he reached up to help, tentatively undoing each button he came to. I met his eyes several times, responding to his anxious expression by kissing him reassuringly. With my shirt gone I could feel his chest rising and falling under mine and knew he was breathing heavily. His skin was warm, inviting. I took my time exploring with my hands, with my mouth, while he lay still, occasionally twitching in surprise. I returned to his lips and kissed him softly as I reached down with one hand and expertly removed his belt, unfastening his pants so he could kick them away and onto the floor, so that I could resume my place on top of him.

I kissed him some more before reaching down to my own belt when I felt him suddenly grasp my wrist tightly. I stopped, momentarily dazed, and wondered if he was going to turn the tables now, if this was just a game. I looked to his face. He was biting his lip and his eyes were clenched shut. He was holding his breath. “Petr, did I do something wrong? Did I hurt y-“

“Stop. Stop. Get off of me.” He squirmed out from beneath me and quickly stood beside the bed, palms to his forehead. He sighed and dropped his hands and stared at me for a second before looking away. “I can’t do this.”

I nearly stopped breathing, horrified. I thought that it was the end, that I had finally done something wrong enough to turn him away for good. I swallowed, hard. “Can’t do what?”

He looked at me again, stared at me. His eyes were wild. “I can’t…I thought I needed to do this. Maybe I still do. But Max, if this is what you fucking need I don’t know if I can do it.” I didn’t understand, and my face must have told him that. He paced a little as he worked out what he was thinking, trying to put it into coherent sentences. “Last time…I thought I took it…I didn’t know if you could handle that. I thought I might…I thought that you might-“

“Leave?” It was a bold assumption on my behalf. To say he feared me leaving was to say there was something to leave. That it was more than an occasional fuck. But it looked like I had gotten it right, as he nodded absent mindedly. “I was fine.”

He still looked flustered. “You can’t fuck me, Max. Don’t ever think you can ever fucking do anything to me unless I tell you to.” I wasn’t sure if he was actually talking to me or just saying things out loud to say them. Either way it hurt. He looked at me and saw that, too. “I’m sorry. That’s just…it’s not who I am. And I don’t want you to leave, but I can’t do that to keep you. I care about you, but I can’t be that person.”

I sat quietly for a moment, trying to let him sort out what he was thinking. Trying to sort out what I was thinking. I liked the feeling of him beneath me, yeah. I liked being the one to say what was next. But it was no different than every other sex I’d had in my life. I could be out picking up women after every game if I wanted to. Instead I stood outside in the cold, in hopes Petr would come and take me home, tell me what to do, show me who to be. “I don’t want you to be that person anyway.” It was the fucking truth, as much as I hated to admit it to myself. I needed this.

He looked at me as though he were trying to figure me out. “You’re sure?” He said it as though he were surprised, as though he expected everything to end right there in that hotel room. I nodded firmly, now sure of myself even if I was afraid of what I was saying. His usual calm demeanor returning slowly, he nodded as well. “Okay.” He said it simply, as though he had just made a very important decision. I hoped it was in my favor, whatever that meant.

He walked forward, kissed me, and I was relieved. Even though it had only been a few minutes, tasting him was comfort I had momentarily feared I wouldn’t have again. I had been more afraid of losing that comfort than admitting to myself that I needed it, and knowing that he still wanted me was all that I cared about. He was forceful, his hands holding tightly to my arms, his mouth crashing into mine. If for only a minute my head was clear of questions. I was his as he wanted to use me and I couldn’t care less what that entailed.

He reached down and quickly removed my already unfastened belt from its loops in one fluid movement, making a faint snapping noise. Of course I knew it would happen, but when he pulled my arms behind me I still felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand. He tightly drew the leather around my wrists, maybe too tightly, but I wasn’t in a place to complain. He kissed my throat, ran his hands over my chest, an almost blissful look on his face. He was afraid he had almost lost something, too.

We found our way to a wall, something I had learned to both love and hate. Him, pushing up against me, biting, grabbing, exploring. The mild discomfort caused by my hands against the wall was well worth it in the end, as long as I could feel him pressing into me, as long as I could feel that desire. We fed off of one another in that way, played off of one another’s passion, got lost in it briefly. I felt his hands everywhere but still wanted more. He ground his hips into my thigh, letting me know that he wasn’t just fucking around this time, letting me feel just how serious he was. He bit my earlobe a little harder than I imagine he’d meant to and let out a throaty noise inspired by me pressing my thigh back into him. He took a few deep breaths before letting out a single, throaty word. “Knees.” It was just short of coming out as a snarl.

I lowered myself, carefully, not very steady without my hands. I stumbled a little, hit my knees hard. When I finally steadied myself he had just finished kicking his boxers to the side and his cock was hard and ready and close. I felt a wave a nerves momentarily; I had never done this before. He didn’t wait to hear about any of my reservations, just used his hand to guide me closer. There was a moment of hesitation while he adjusted to the feeling of my mouth, the warmth around him. I took the chance to observe that it was strangely erotic, having him in my mouth, feeling him shudder when I moved my tongue across the tip. The nerves started to leave just in time for him to adjust and begin taking movement into his own hands.

At first I kept my head above water, trying to focus on breathing, trying to keep myself still so he could take what he wanted from me as he thrust with increasing fervor. I caught my breath where I could; the deeper he went the fewer and further between my opportunities came. My eyes watered, and my balance wavered. I was glad he couldn’t see me, his hands planted on the wall behind me for his own balance. I had to look completely tragic. I could almost forget my own problems as I heard his breathing become more labored, sharp noises escaping him, his one hand dropping to twist into my hair to involve me further.

I knew he was about to finish and tried to prepare myself for it, but wasn’t quite ready when he came, unintelligible noises accompanying his orgasm. I tried to swallow, sputtered, managed handle most of it. I looked around on the floor for a stray article of clothing to try and clean my mouth with. Nearby were his discarded boxers, and I awkwardly moved towards them and leaned into them against the floor, trying to look like I hadn’t just had my mouth fucked vigorously.

“What are you doing?” He laughed tiredly. He knelt down and gently untied my arms. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, not because there was anything left to wipe away but just as a general instinct. I wiped my cheeks to clear any stray tears from them watering. “Are you okay?” he put a hand on my shoulder and I reluctantly turned. He stooped his head to catch my eyes. “Max?”

I ran my hand over my face again. “I’m fine. Just had to, you know, collect myself or whatever.”

“Why aren’t you looking at me?” I shrugged, not sure how to explain the feeling that had washed over me. He stood up again, grabbing his boxers and putting them on. He walked to the bed and sat down. “Come here.” I listened, standing to walk over and join him on the bed. He put a hand on my face and turned me to look at him. He looked at me as though he understood what I was thinking. Maybe he did. “Don’t ever be ashamed of what we do here. You have nothing to feel guilty about, not ever.”

I shrugged again, not really sure how to react to what he was saying. I guessed that was what I was feeling. Shame. I couldn’t really explain it to him, but he looked like he was expecting something from me. “Okay. I mean, yeah. I just…sometimes it’s weird to have you see me like this.”

He leaned forward and kissed me on my swollen lips and pulled away smiling. “You think I’d do anything if I didn’t want to see you like that? You’re fucking hot. Seeing you helpless makes me want you that much more.”
I laughed, supposing it was true. “I guess if I’m in this and I want it…” I paused for a second thinking about what I was trying to say. “I want this. I guess if we both want this I need to not worry about it. Not be afraid to let you see me. Yeah.” I finished articulately.

He nodded, grinning. “Yeah.” He laughed for a second and then looked me over, eyes smiling. “I want it. I think that’s pretty clear though.” We sat there awkwardly for a moment longer before he looked at me expectantly. “So?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?” He just looked at me some more. I worried that he was expecting something from me and I was letting him down by not knowing. “What?”

“You want blown or what?” he said it like it was the first thing on my mind. I coughed a little, inhaling my own saliva, not even being in the same universe as thought as he was. I made a noise, kind of an embarrassed ‘what?’ not knowing what else to do. “You didn’t think I was just going to leave you like this, did you?” He was grinning crazily, realizing what he had done.

I was honest to fucking god confused. Yeah, actually, I did kind of think that I was on my own. “I didn’t think…” I squinted at him with a confused smile. He had already started to unbutton my pants, and leaned forward to kiss me, still grinning into my lips.

“You think I’d ever pass up an opportunity to make you beg?” The words shot through me like electricity. I didn’t know how his words could get to me like that. He bit softly at my throat and slid his fingers under the waist of my pants, guiding me back onto the bed. I lifted my hips to help him slide them off of me. He slowly crawled on top of me, my smile fading into nervous expectation. He kissed along my collarbone, my shoulders, fingers dancing around the elastic of my boxer briefs. He traveled down my chest, leaving cool spots in all of the places his lips and tongue touched. I could hardly stand every movement; the mood had changed so quickly. I could feel myself swelling against him. He had that effect on me without even trying. When he was, I was helpless

He pulled at the elastic, removing my boxer briefs from the picture, and I could feel his hot breath against me. I was very aware of his every movement, and almost left my own skin when I felt his tongue firmly press against the base of my cock, trailing its way slowly up towards the head. My toes curled, my eyes fluttered shut, my whole body went rigid. I heard him laugh slightly before taking me all the way in, encompassing me in his hot mouth, flicking his tongue against all the right places. I raised my hips to come closer, and he stopped immediately.

“Don’t.” He said firmly, waiting a moment before returning to where he had been, except this time with me controlling my impulses. It was hard, almost impossible to keep myself still but I knew he would stop if I did. I pressed my head back into the mattress, gripped the comforter, clenched my teeth, anything I could to stop myself. The closer I got to the edge the harder it was to control. It was torture.

“Petr…” I hissed it, clenching my eyes shut as hard as they would go, the electricity running through me all building up until I knew exactly what was going to happen. He made no effort to stop, only kept moving in the same patient rhythm he had the entire time, until I couldn’t hold on anymore. I heard myself make an animalistic noise as I came, one from somewhere deep, somewhere I hadn’t felt in a long time. I laid panting, sweating, blinded as he slowly finished and laid down next to me, the familiar terrible grin on his face. “Thank you,” I managed, wrapping an arm around him.

He laughed and turned into me, curling up against my chest as I lay there, staring at the ceiling. I really hadn’t expected that to be a part of our relationship, hadn’t seen it coming at all. When I looked over a few minutes later and realized that he had drifted off, I smiled, realizing that I still had a lot to learn about whatever was going on between us. It was the first time I let myself think about how much I wanted to figure it all out.