Leave me breathless
Ilya Kovalchuk / Pavel Bure
NC-17, Fiction means this is made up
Ilya showers properly at home, so there is no one
there to see Pavel, hair slicked back dark otter pelt under the water, no one
to see them kiss, with mouths that taste ancient and muddied, like water from
the bottom of a well.
He just appeared five days after the Olympic break.
Didn't say anything, what Ilya was going to throw him out? Didn't explain why
he was there, just stood in the backyard staring into the sun drinking black
coffee.
He took the spare key when he left, came back a week
later and spent an hour talking about Martin Brodeur.
Ilya thought maybe it was a speech he had saved from
the Olympics. Why leave anything go to waste?
Pavel is the only one that makes Ilya feel like he has
to clean his place.
Ilya pretends to be asleep when Pavel comes in. He always parks his car in the
garage, will in fact take Ilya's out. He'll even back it in, so all Ilya has to
do to get to training is turn it on. If he is awake Pavel would just drink,
doze in the chair in the living room and be bright eyed and awake by the time
Ilya had stumbled up.
If he's sleeping Ð if he makes it seem enough like
he's sleeping Ð Pavel will slide into bed with him. Ilya will feel the smirk
Pavel aims between his shoulder blades. He'll hear Pavel roll his eyes even as
he opens his arms enough to curl around Ilya.
He's never next to Ilya in the mornings.
He'd have coffee on and have already dissected the
day, found it wanting and Ilya wouldn't even have made it to training.
Sometimes Ilya will look at the sunrise, bed empty,
Pavel watching BBC with the French subtitles in the other room - Ilya didn't
even know he got that channel until a week after Pavel had arrived. And wonder
if maybe the sun couldn't do him a favour and be a bit more perfect today, to
start the day off on the right foot.
Pavel will smile as Ilya pushes him against the
cabinets, and his kisses will taste thickly black and dark and chocolate and
coffee. And he never eats anything sweet that Ilya can see, so who knows where
that comes from?
Leaning back against the counter, letting Ilya kiss
him, letting Ilya's hands turn him and strip him. The tips of his fingers are
always slightly cool, and is it that the skin is thinner there? The pale pink
rims around his nails when Pavel closes his fingers over the back of Ilya's
hands.
An aggressive vulnerability laid back and open up for
him without Ilya even asking. The pitiless gentleness in the way Pavel treated
his body. It was like that story, where the pets were buried and came back as
another creature, like pod people or zombies, Ilya bites into the skin under
Pavel's adams apple, latches on until Pavel whines deep in his throat, the
vibrations ricocheting against Ilya's teeth. Won't resist, he'll just place his
hands gently on Ilya's shoulders, tip his head back and offer up his throat.
