***
Okay. From all the talk in the locker room, I know that Steve has pretty much finished performing his duty as Captain for what happened during that game with the Blues. Or should I say, that train wreck with the Blues. I’d been in games that turned into battles before, but that one was right up there with the best of them. And like every time one of us, well, misbehaved, it was Steve’s job to punish us. Not with fines and bullshit like that. Oh no. We, like the rotten little children we are, get spanked when we make our team look bad by taking our game to its lowest common denominator.
I know, I know. Spanking seems like an odd way to discipline grown men. But you’d be surprised what it can do for a team. As any little kid will tell you, the humiliation is worse than the pain, and it’s enough to make a guy consider his actions next time he gets a little hot on the ice. And, shit, this is a little hard to explain. It’s really an almost loving gesture in our case. I know how fucked up that sounds. I guess you’d have to take part to understand. It’s a way for Steve to punish the members of his team when he has to that’s very intimate, and almost parental. No one has ever been hurt by it. It’s never done in anger. It sort of reinforces the idea of a family unit. I defy you to find a team that’s as close as ours.
But for those of us who prefer it that way, there’s nothing parental about it at all. It’s a method of punishment that can be very, very erotic. For those being spanked as well as the spanker. I’ll tell you as someone who knows. Steve enjoys his duties as Captain. Very thoroughly. Which, of course, makes my current situation even more irritating. But I’ll get to that in a minute.
That game, Jesus. It wasn’t just one or two guys that lost their control out there. It was pretty much the whole damn team. As a result, there was a roomful guys sitting down very carefully the next day. Quite a few of them had stupid grins on their faces to match. Byk was a good example. I think if he keeps badgering Joey about teaching him to fight Joey might give in and give him an extended lesson. Heh. Poor kid. Some didn’t look so pleased. Most simply took it in stride.
How did I handle it, you ask? Well, I can’t answer that question for you. And that’s because I haven’t been taken to task as of yet. It’s been a week and he hasn’t even spoken to me about it. In fact, he hasn’t spoken to me at all.
A week!
I assumed he’d get to me pretty quickly. I did have a hand in starting the whole thing. I swear, though, I didn’t slash Nash in the face on purpose. Really. Well, I didn’t mean to hit him that hard anyway. At least not in his face. Everything just got way out of hand. Add emotion to adrenaline and anything can happen. I feel bad about it now… what? I can feel bad about things. And I do feel bad about that.
This is all beside the point, though. The point is, everyone else has gotten to be spanked so why haven’t I, dammit? Fuck, that’s the best part of starting something on the ice! Why do you think Darren does it so damn much? Anyone who heard him on the radio giggling like a fangirl over the possibility of he and Stevie being lovers could give the answer to that one.
A week. A week of waiting. I wish I had the balls to bring it up but I don’t. I know that he hasn’t forgotten about me. I got the “look” after the game just like everyone else. But unlike everyone else, I wasn’t invited up to his hotel room to take part in the due punishment that comes from thugging it up on the ice. As the days have gone by I’m pretty sure my frown has become a permanent part of my expression.
I want what’s coming to me and I want it now.
~~~
It’s after practice and I’m unlacing my skates. I’m half listening to the noise in the locker room around me, most of which consists of laughter coming from where Darren sits. I glance up. Byk, sporting a beauty of a shiner, is glaring over at Mac, who only laughs harder. I grin. I guess Joey finally got tired of hearing it and gave the kid the lesson he’d asked for.
Suddenly, a shadow falls over me and my grin fades. I look up to meet a pair of calm brown eyes. There is, as usual when he’s at work, no strong emotion in them, yet I shiver. I’m shirtless, my shoulder pads hanging ragged in the locker behind me, and the bare skin of my chest and arms prickles as he looks down. How does he fucking do that to me? All he has to do is watch me and my heartbeat begins to rush.
Well, fuck me if I’m going to let him know that.
“See anything you like?” I wink at him and flash him a smile.
“Stay. I want to talk to you alone.” And without another fucking word he walks away. Just like that!
This is not lost on everyone else, and now the locker room noise is a symphony of whistles and snickering and “Ooooh, somebody’s in trouble!” Blood rushes to my cheeks, and the fact that now I’m actually blushing only makes me more enraged.
“Fuck you guys,” I mutter, rising to my feet and peeling off the gear and clothing on the lower half of my body. More laughter ensues. Even Byk is laughing at me. Dicks.
I try to ignore them, and with all the dignity I can find I make my way to the showers. Once there I shut my eyes and attempt to use the hot water to wash away all the uneasiness that’s in me now. Steve’s NEVER spoken to me like that before. “Stay.” Like I was his dog or something. Does he want me to sit up and beg, too? Maybe he should just put a collar on me and have done with it.
Hmm… Stevie… collar… begging… ah fuck. I should know better than to conjure images like that in the showers at the Joe. I glance around. I’m the only one in here, fortunately. I’m half-erect already and that’s as much as I intend to get… for now. So, I just wash the sweat off and try to think about other, non-Stevie things.
….Unfortunately, though, that proves too hard (pun intended) to do, because I know very well what Steve wants to “talk” to me about. It’s finally time for him to punish me for what I did in that game. Finally. After a week of waiting… unable to stop myself, I picture what’s going to happen. Before I know it, half-erect is a distant memory and my cock is throbbing more hotly than the water surrounding me. I reach down without meaning to and stroke myself a few times. A shudder runs through me and I bite my lip.
I resist the command my cock is giving me to wrap my fist around it, and pull with a firm grip. No, I don’t want to come yet. Not like this. Steve wants to “talk to me” and I am going to enjoy that to its fullest. With a quick motion I turn the handle on the shower from red to blue. I let out a small shriek as the soothing water becomes pinpoint streams of liquid ice. My cock indignantly assumes the at-ease position before going into full retreat. My skin cries out angrily and I shiver. Suddenly, over the rush of the water I can hear snickering. I whip around, and the snickering turns to laughter.
Goddamn it. Who else but Kirk, Kris, and Darren. Fuckers.
“Water a little cold?”
“Nah, he’s always that big.”
“Having a little private time in the showers, Bren?”
I glare at all three of them.
“I was until you fuckers came along. Show’s over, you perverts. Get the fuck out of here.”
Still laughing, the three of them leave. Intending, no doubt, to spread the word about what I was, uh, doing in here. Whatever. Screw them. I have plans tonight.
I turn off the freezing water and walk back out to the locker room, a towel wrapped decorously around my waist. I don’t walk around naked throughout the entire dressing area, unlike some others I could mention. Ahem, NICK, ahem. The man has no shame. Then again, he has nothing to be ashamed of… Homer is a lucky man.
I get dressed, avoiding the snickers and insults aimed at me from the few guys still left in the room. I just collect my things, and wander out to the lounge with the couch and the TV. I hang out there, waving goodbye to a few of the trainers and the suits as they leave. Eventually, the building quiets, and except for the ever-present footsteps of the security guards I am alone.
Well, not quite.
“Brendan.”
I stand up from the couch and turn around slowly. Steve is standing there, in khakis and a polo shirt. God, he looks so dignified and professional. I have this sudden urge to grab him and pull the shirt from where it’s tucked into his pants. You’re still a player, Steve, I’d growl as I pressed my lips to his. You’re not a GM yet so quit dressing like one…
“Bren?”
I snap out of my daze.
“Yes, Steve?”
He looks at me calmly. Calmly, always so calm. Well, not always. Let’s see if we can’t change that right now…
“I suppose you know why I asked you to stay behind.”
I nod, not trusting myself to speak.
“Well, let’s do it then.”
He moves around, and sits down on the couch, never taking his eyes from mine.
“Come here.”
I move quickly, maybe too quickly since his lips twitch into a small smile. I kneel onto the couch and move so that I’m lying outstretched across Steve’s lap. I shift a little as my erection presses down onto him. Yeah, I’m hard again. Can you blame me? The leather of the couch is cool against my face and I wait.
And wait. And wait, and wait, and… what the fuck?
“Uh, Steve?”
“Yes?”
“Umm… are you going to do this or not?”
Suddenly, from the man who’s calm, so calm, I hear the most amazing sound. A giggle.
“Steve?”
His giggle turns into a laugh. I can feel his body moving beneath me.
Jesus Christ. What the fuck is up with everyone laughing at me tonight??
“Steve, what? What is it? What’s so damn funny?”
“You,” Steve continues to chuckle. “You’re so funny. In all the years I’ve been doing this, I’ve had a lot of guys who’ve enjoyed it, but none as much as you.”
He nudges his leg up a bit and I bite my lip.
“Oh, and I’m not just referring to that. It’s a whole mindset with you. You are more into this than anyone I’ve met. You know I’m right, Brendan. I see the light in your eyes every time you leave the ice after you fight someone. You do it more for what happens after the game then defending the pride of your team during the game.”
I shrug. No use in denying it.
“I’m not the only one who does.”
“No one enjoys it like you, Bren. And that’s why I made you wait.”
Huh?
“You… you mean you…”
“Yep. I’ve been watching you pout for a week. I haven’t had as much fun all year.”
I sputter and Steve laughs again.
“You made me wait on purpose just for fun? You… I can’t believe you…”
I try to get up and Steve pushes me back down. I squeak as my face hits the couch again.
“Ooh, but you’re so cute when you pout, Bren.”
I scowl, but before I can respond Steve’s hand smacks my ass and my breath comes out in a rush.
“Ooh…” Steve laughs at the sound and I’d scowl again but fuck did that feel good…
He continues to spank me, firm and even hits that produce a sharp pain but an even sharper pleasure. I push my hips down into Steve’s lap so that my cock is moved with each hit. I hear Steve gasp slightly at my movements. I don’t think it’ll be long before he’s as hard as I am.
Finally, he hits me one last time as hard as he can, and I cry out. Steve has more strength than most people realize. Damn, more than I realize sometimes.
“Done,” Steve says. He’s a bit breathless. From the hitting alone, I’m sure. Yeah right. I roll onto my back, not leaving his lap. I look up and see that his head is tilted back, his eyes half shut. Oh yes. He enjoys his job. Thoroughly. As if his cock pressing into the small of my back wasn’t enough proof of that.
“Not quite,” I smile up at him, stroking the front of my jeans.
Steve aims his half-lidded gaze at me and gives me a slow smile. A heat runs through me. Jesus, those eyes…
I sit up, staying in Steve’s lap, and he puts his arms around me. He tilts his head and I lean in for the kiss. I love the taste of him, so hot, so… so Steve. And so familiar. Kissing him is like coming home. My body is tingling as we finally break the kiss.
I give him a grave look.
“You know, I can’t believe you, Steve. You have one twisted sense of humor.”
“How is that?” Steve pulls his shirt over his head, and I follow suit.
“You didn’t talk to me for a week,” I pointed out. I unzip my jeans, unbutton them, and pull them down, wriggling to stay on my knees.
“So?” Steve is scooting out of his pants and boxers, and the two of us must look pretty odd, doing a strange wriggling dance as we shed ourselves of our clothes while not moving from the couch.
“So? I’m your lover. You know, the whole sex-on-a-regular-basis thing? You cut me off for a whole week just to watch me get upset.”
“Pout,” Steve corrects me, grinning tightly. “You weren’t upset, you were pouting.”
“Fine, whatever,” I mutter. I reach for his cock, jerking him gently. He moans and my hips arch forward just from the sound. God, I’ve missed that.
“But… a whole week?”
Steve grinned. “It wasn’t easy,” he admits. I lick my lips as he thrusts slightly into my hand. “But it WAS funny. Everyone else thought so, too.”
I glare and he laughs. Bastard. If he wasn’t so cute I’d let him have it.
He takes hold of my hand, stilling our movements, and he looks seriously at me. You know, only Steve could manage to look so solemn when we’re minutes away from an orgasm.
“I didn’t just do it for my own amusement, Bren. The waiting period was your real punishment.”
I blink at him.
“Spanking you isn’t really a punishment; especially since we’re together. Making you wait while I took care of everyone else was. And I hope you’ll remember that the next time you decide to take your aggressions out on the ice.”
He has a point. Much as I hate to admit it.
I nod.
“Okay, Steve.” And I really do mean it. Yeah, I have been pouting. But it was mostly a front to hide what I was really feeling. Steve and I, we’re more than just lovers. We’re friends. He’s my Captain, too, so I accept his punishment.
But I missed him, dammit.
He seems to understand even though I’ve only given him two words and a nod, and he smiles at me.
“I know it’s in your bag. Get it.”
I grin. He knows me only too well.
I reach for my bag, which is still sitting on the floor next to the couch, and dig through one of the side pockets. My balance sways and Steve grabs my hips to hold me steady, laughing as he does. I somehow manage not to flip us onto the floor, and I right myself with lube in hand.
I capture his lips with mine, and in between kisses and small gasps I coat his cock with the lube, warmed in my hands. We have a hurried conversation in whispers.
“Did you-”
“Yeah. Door’s locked. Are you-”
“Do it, Steve. It’s been so long-”
“Only a week.”
“Feels like a year.”
“Raise up.”
I position myself above him, and together we maneuver so that the tip of his cock presses into me. Carefully, I settle my weight down onto his lap. I grit my teeth.
“Okay?”
“Yeah… I… Stevie, I…”
“Shussh. I know.”
At last he’s fully inside of me and we begin to move. He thrusts slowly, almost gently inside me, holding my hip with one hand as he jerks me off with the other. I give what can best be described as a whimpered moan. I really, really missed him.
My nerves ignite as he hits my prostate. I call his name. He jerks harder as I grip both of his shoulders, arching my body back. Yeah, I know that he knows. But I have to say it anyway.
“Steve… missed you…”
Steve cries out and, again with a strength that would surprise many, he pulls me tightly against him. He fills me just as I explode, all the tension of the whole week releasing as I cover our stomachs with cum.
We gasp, and our muscles twitch, as we ride out our orgasms together. Steve puts both hands on either side of my face and brushes me with his lips. My forehead, my nose, my chin, my lips.
He smiles.
“I missed you, too, Bren.”
I smile back at him. I’m shaking still, and I can’t even begin to hope that I look as fucking beautiful as he does right now.
“Don’t save me for last next time, okay?”
He chuckles.
“I thought there wasn’t going to be a next time. You’re supposed to behave, remember?”
He wraps his arms around me. I rest my cheek on the top of his head as he absently strokes my ass.
“Okay, Steve. I’ll be good. No problem.”
Steve doesn’t stop laughing for ten minutes.
I suppose it’s just my day to be laughed at.
As laughing boy continues to hold me close, stroking my back, I realize that that’s not such a bad thing, really.
After awhile, I laugh too.
***
