Page 39 of Two Guys One Puck (Gods Versus Monsters Hockey #2)

THIRTY-NINE

SEABORN

B oth the Monsters and The Gods have our semi-final games tomorrow at Summerset. If we both win we play each other. I don’t know how we lucked out. It’s not on home ice, that’s not allowed, but at least we don’t have to travel far just across the city.

It’s a long week waiting to see him again. We talk but it’s still strained. I just need him face to face so we can feel normal again.

“I’m skipping the team dinner tonight. Can you make an excuse for me?” I casually drop on Wolfe Thursday afternoon.

Both him and Archangel slow motion turn in my direction, horror movie style.

“Excuse me?” Archangel asks.

“What he said, only I can’t do it with as much cunt.” Wolfe crosses his arms.

“I have something I need to do.” I don’t really want to tell them what I have planned because I’m pretty sure they’ll object.

Archangel studies me, and I try to keep everything off my face like Ktytor told me to. “What are you hiding? Because if I were you, I’d just tell the team I was going to see my dad. You have like the free excuse for the rest of the season card.”

“Shit.” Why hadn’t I thought of that? “It’s bad fucking karma to use my dad when nothing is going on.”

“We’re your best friends. Do you hate us?” Wolfe asks.

“Says the two people leaving me out for months.”

They exchange a glance.

“That’s what I thought. Make the damn excuse for me. These aren’t mandatory, and I’m tired. I need to sleep well so I play well.”

“Fine.” Archangel says but gives me the ‘I’m watching you’ finger.

Ktytor: I’m risking my life on the subway. Google tells me I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.

Seaborn: You live in Boston.

Ktytor: I am under the ground.This is not normal.

Seaborn: Is it worth being fucked?

Ktytor: When you put it that way.

Seaborn: what did you tell your team?

Ktytor: To mind their business.

I walk to the stop to meet him. I’m paranoid since everyone has a camera nowadays, and we don’t exactly blend in at our size, but I’m too hyped up to not. He shakes his head when he spots me, and we don’t say a word as we fall in step back to my place.

I jump him as soon as the door closes behind us, hands going everywhere.

He attacks my mouth, making sure I feel every part of him while he does. I pin him to a wall and grind against him. I try to detangle myself long enough to get a word in but he’s got my dick out and he flips us around dropping to his knees before I can tell him dinner’s in the oven and nearly done.

“Holy fuck.” I can’t focus on anything but his lips stretched around my cock.

He doesn’t even look up, taking me deeper into the back of his throat. I nearly come it’s been so long.

I tug at his hair. “Food is almost ready.”

He comes off my cock for only long enough to say, “Good. I’ll finish you, and then we can eat.” Then I’m right back in his throat.He must have been practicing. It’s like his damn gag reflex is gone.

“Fuck. You should not be so good at this.”

He swallows around me and slides off to tease his tongue over my slit. “I don’t do anything by half measure.”

“I’m not mad.” I lean against the wall, legs barely holding me up.

Something in my brain triggers hearing the door click closed, but I don’t react fast enough.

“I KNEW IT.” Wolfe’s voice is right next to us.

Ktytor jumps back, and we both scramble to right our clothes. When we’re decent, we find Wolfe and Archangel standing there, arms crossed, smug as fuck.

“I told you the big one is a stalker,” Ktytor says.

“Why the fuck are you here and not at dinner?” I ask, annoyed.

“Because we knew you were up to something, but we didn’t know it would be this bad!” Wolfe gestures between us.

“When we saw you walking towards the station, we thought you might actually be going home, and then we saw him.” Archangel points at Ktytor.

“You were stalking me?”

“I can’t believe you’re still seeing him!” Wolfe tries to turn it back on me, but I’m not having it.

“I can’t believe you stalked me,” I throw back.

“It had to be done, and what we found is worse than anything we ever expected!” Wolfe does look a little traumatized.

“If you didn’t want to see gay sex, maybe you shouldn’t have followed me.”

“I’m not even mad about seeing two dicks!” Wolfe starts.

Archangel cuts him off. “You’re not?”

“That doesn’t matter. We are here to focus on Seaborn!” Wolfe says, ignoring Archangel’s objections. “You two can’t keep doing this.”

“Why?” Ktytor asks. “It hurts no one unless you’re jealous because you want him.”

Wolfe goes a little pink. “It is not that. We are worried about him.”

“Right… this seems more than worry. Is weird. Like codependent. I think in your country, you say something like… get therapy.”

Archangel scoffs, and Wolfe doesn’t make eye contact.

“I need to get dinner out of the oven and come down Ktytor’s throat. Can you two fuck off?”

“The team isn’t going to trust you if they find out what’s going on.” Archangel tries a different angle, and it stings.

“I’ve helped us win two of three times playing them. You don’t think that speaks for itself?”

“You weren’t fucking him the whole time,” Archangel replies.

“I mean, he basically was,” Ktytor says before I can stop him.

Archangel and Wolfe turn on him.

He shrugs. “Are we done? I’d like to make sure Ronan doesn’t get blue balls.”

“He uses your first name?!” Wolfe says like that’s some great sin.

I bit back a laugh. “We can talk later.”

Wolfe sighs. “We are talking later.”

“Okay, big guy.” I slap his shoulder.

Archangel follows him out.

“I told you they’re gay.”

“Archangel is, yeah.”

“No, like I said, them together. Gay, yes?”

“No.” I turn like I could see their retreating forms outside. “Not at all.”

“Then why do they act like that?”

“Act like what?”

“Codependent.”

I shrug. “I don’t know. They’ve been best friends since they were kids.”

“Interesting.” Ktytor laughs and tugs at his medal. “At least they are gone, no?”

“Yes.” I watch his hands, glad they look better than the last time I saw him. “What’s the medal around your neck? Is it for a Saint?”

“Yes. My mother gave it to me when I was a boy.” His fingers brush it again. “How did you know?”

“My mom used to wear one. Her and dad’s families are both Catholic.”

“Ah, yes, we are Orthodox. But the lore is the same.”

“Lore?” I laugh. “I guess that works. Who is it?”

“Olga of Kyiv.”

“I don’t know that saint.”

“Sad. She is a saint in Catholicism, too. She is the patron saint of defiance and vengeance. She took over rule for her young son after her husband’s murder and avenged his death quite gruesomely. Her brave spirit is the one my people carry in this war.” His fingers brush over it.

“My mother used to wear Joan of Arc. I have it. I don’t wear it because I’m scared of losing it. May I?”

He waves me forward, and I pick it up, leaning forward to take a closer look.

“It’s beautiful.” I brush my lips over his throat. “I missed you.”

Ktytor threads his fingers into my hair. “I missed you too.”

I kiss and suck my way up to his ear. “We should eat before I fuck you right here.”

“I wouldn’t say no.” Ktytor laughs as I pull back.

“I have a pasta bake in the oven our nutritionist helped me with, and the timer is going to go off any second. I am not letting it burn!” I grab his hand and tug him towards the kitchen.

“Do you think the big goalie and the bitchy one left for real?”

“What? They left?” I laugh, opening the oven to check the pasta.

“Seems suspect.”

“Why?” I get the salad out and stir the sides, overwhelmed by all the steps but doing okay so far.

“The Angel one is too nosy, and the goalie follows his lead.”

“It’ll be fine. We aren’t fucking on the counter.” I wink.

“I thought we had to eat,” he asks playfully.

“We are.” I point at him with an oven mitt before I pull the bake out.

“Looks shockingly edible. I’m impressed.”

I smile even if he’s negging. “Thank you.”

I get a couple of plates out and let him dish his out.

We sit next to each other at the counter.

“Are you worried what your team will think?”

I think it over for a few minutes. “No. I think I’ve proved myself. And we only have a few games left.”

“Your coach won’t care?” he asks, and it’s cute he cares this much.

“No. Are you worried about your team?”

He laughs. “No. They know I’m the best.”

“I don’t think best is what they are saying,” I laugh, trying not to spit out my pasta.

Ktytor glances at me. “Yes, is true. I’m hot, too. You’re welcome.”

“That’s not it.” I’m full-on laughing now but thankfully swallowed.

He fully turns on his stool. “What do you think they call me, Коханий?”

“They call you a psycho,” I say playfully.

“And they’re right. But you’re such a sweetheart. It almost hurts me to corrupt you.” Ktytor pats my cheek.

“Fuck off.” I roll my eyes, fighting a smile. “I’ve heard you call me worse.”

“Like what? I’m so nice to you.”

“What did you call me… a man whore?”

“Now you’re my man whore. Yes?”

“All yours, and I’m going to take it out on your mouth and then your pretty hole later.”

Lust flickers in his eyes. “I will win the championship and then get fucked by my boyfriend. I can’t think of a better day.”

I growl. “You’re not winning.”

“Okay, Коханий.”

“What happened to Сонце?” I ask because he’s used this new word a couple of times.

“You figured it out. What fun is that?” He grins like an ass.

“I like you calling me Sun.”

“How did you figure that out anyway?” he asks, amused.

“Reddit. And lots of Google searching.”

“You don’t have life, do you?” He stabs at his pasta.

“When I’m determined, I get what I want. And I want to know what the new one means.” I return to my food.

“Is better, trust me.”

I almost laugh. “I don’t trust you.”

“I know, but you have no choice.”

“Why won’t you tell me?” I hate and love his games, but fuck, they make me hard for him. It must be brain damage.

“If you lose, I’ll tell you to cheer you up.” He makes a kissy face at me.

“Dick,” I mutter.

“Not dick. Boyfriend, yes?” he says through a laugh.

“Is that what the word means?” I smile against my will, hating that I’m giving him the damn satisfaction.

Ktytor shakes his head. “No, it doesn’t mean that, but I think boyfriend is better to call me than dick. No?”

I shake my head because I walked right into that one. “It is better.”

“So this is yes, right? Because I promise my jealousy is only getting worse from here, so is better to have rules. I make no jokes about killing.”

“What are those rules, exactly?” I ask like I don’t know what he wants.

“Don’t play me, Seaborn.”

“Does that mean only you get to touch me?”

“It means no one else better touch your cock. Is mine.” Ktytor glances at my dick and slides a hand around my thigh. “You understand?”

“It’s all yours. And I’ll use it to help console you after your loss tomorrow,” I say putting my hand on his.

“I’m not going to lose.”

“Good luck with that,” I mutter.

“I don’t need good luck. You keep the luck. It might help you.” Ktytor takes my fork out of my hand.

“I wasn’t done.”

“You can finish after you fuck me” He nips at my jaw.

“You’re right. I’m done. Let’s go to my room.”

“No. We’re fucking in the kitchen because your roommates pissed me off.” He sits on the counter and opens his knees.

“Fuck. You’re right.”