Hawks Are Meant to Fly

Jonathan and Patrick make it back to Chicago in one piece and shockingly in six hours. When they finally arrive, it is sundown and the temperature is a chilling 20 degrees. Patrick gets out of the car first and instantly shivers, rubbing his arms. Jonathan comes around the car and spots him.

“Cold, Kaner?”

“A little bit Jonny, a little bit.”

“Let’s get inside and get into the hot, steaming shower. That way Jonny can give it to you good!”

“Okay!”

They enter the house and walk into the bedroom. Then they both strip their dirty clothes and take to the bathroom and the shower, with Patrick chuckling the whole time.

“Here,” He rubs his hands over Patrick's chest, water running down, and pulls him in, so the back of the blond’s head is against his mouth. Jonathan holds him close, angling his head to talk low in Patrick's ear. "Still cold?"

Patrick brings up his arms to cover Jonathan's, leaning his head on the brunette's shoulder. "Uh...Warm me up."

Jonathan chuckles and kisses right below Patrick's ear, his teeth just scraping over his skin. He rubs circles all the way down Patrick's chest, over his belly and onto his thighs. He scratches up the blond's legs with his fingernails, coming close to where the winger wants his hands but not quite.

"Stop teasing me man," Patrick grunts, arching his back.

"Just doin' what you said, man," Jonathan says, rubbing over Patrick's hips now, like the blue-eyed winger can't feel him getting hard too.

"Fine," Patrick sighs, and tips his head back to rest against Jonny's shoulder. The rubdown feels good, chasing away the chill and the sting of a last-second loss, and between the centre's hands and the hot water falling on his chest he's getting dangerously close to falling asleep.

Or he would be, if Jonathan didn't slide one hand down to cup his balls, shifting at the same time to press against the crack of his ass.

Patrick could chirp his teammate here for getting ahead of himself, but he doesn't play around like that much anymore; they both know what they want and they don't have to pretend. That used to be almost the hottest part -- the dirty talk, testing each other, acting like if they didn't take it seriously then it wasn't really happening. Once in a while it still goes down like that, the whole evening one long tease, just to keep things interesting. But really, Patrick would rather have it like this, Jonathan's hand sure and steady on his body, both of them open about what they want.

The Captain shifts again, pushing his cock down to slide between Patrick's legs, right against his ass, as he gives Patrick a couple of tight, wet strokes. It feels good but the blond winger wants more, wants the brunette's body to overwhelm him, wants to take it. Not to get used, but to show Jonny how good he is, how their strengths work together.

"Yeah," Patrick groans, and leans forward, planting both hands on the wall. It pushes his ass against Jonathan in a way he can't misunderstand. Jonathan grabs Patrick's hips, pulling him in tight, and grinds against him once, running a finger down the knobs of the winger's spine.

"You sure?" Jonathan asks. They actually don't do this all that often; not much privacy on the road and it seems like they're always playing catch-up at home, trying to get enough food and sleep, keep in condition. Mostly they stick with stuff that's not going to give anybody a leg cramp the next day, blowjobs and handjobs and rubbing off on each other, so practiced and easy they could do it in their sleep and pretty much do, a lot of the time.

"Mm," Patrick sighs. "Just -- don't wanna think for a while, OK?"

There's a little pause. "Yeah," Jonathan says. "I got you."

They don't do this often either, let the brunette run the whole show. Patrick's been with enough guys who think just because he's small he's a wuss, or that he's happy acting like the chick. But the brunette's not an asshole like that, he isn't small and it took Patrick a few times to get him to quit trying to toss him around or just be the boss in bed all the time. (To be fair, Jonny would probably try to be the boss in bed with anyone, but still.)

It's what Patrick wants now. He's been playing on Jonathan's line a little more lately, but for the most part they aren't on the ice together anymore and it makes stuff like this easier. He doesn't have to worry about what's going to bleed over into their game, the way he used to. Jonny's good at topping the fuck out of him, and today Patrick wants to let him.

The Captain bends down and kisses his winger's shoulder, arms wrapping around Patrick's chest to hold him close. It's just for a second, and then he's leaning away and the blond hears him moving around the bottles in the soap rack.

He knows it's coming, spreads his legs for it, but Patrick still lets out a groan, teeth sinking into his lip, when Jonathan presses a finger against his hole. He's not slow about it, circling just once before pushing inside, crooking his finger so his knuckle presses down. His other hand's still tight on the blond's hip, and Patrick's grateful for that, the sensation helping hold him in place. Sometimes it's weirdly hard to just let go and let this happen, even though he trusts his Captain.

Patrick groans, soft and wordless, grinding his hips against Jonathan's hand. The brunette centerman opens him up good and slow, reaching up to stroke his back under the warm spray, and Patrick curls his fingers against the tile, feeling the sick chill of the loss leave him, the curling heat of arousal taking its place. He's so aware of Jonathan's fingers inside him, his hard-on brushing over the curve of his ass from time to time, the sound of falling water and his breath.

"Looking good, Peeksy," Jonathan murmurs. "Getting nice and loose for me, huh?"

He squeezes Patrick's ass with one hand, thumb pulling him open wider, and thrusts the three fingers inside a little harder.

"Fuck, I'm loose, I'm ready," Patrick groans. "Do it already."

"Or what?" Jonny says, still holding him in tight, and Patrick's suddenly aware, too, of how much he's at his Captain's mercy here. But that's what he wanted. What he craved.

"Or my back's gonna give out," he grumbles. It's a half-hearted chirp, his back is fine or it will be for long enough, but that's how he's got to ease himself into this.

"You'll be fine," Jonathan says, dismissively, and keeps finger-fucking him, still with that iron grip on his hip.

Patrick can feel himself sinking down, getting lost in the heat and the sensation, but it's not enough, not the big overwhelming feeling he was looking for. He can't get off like this either, and he finally shifts his hips again.

"Jonny," he says, hearing the first start of a breath-y catch in his voice.

"Patrick," Jonathan says back, the asshole.

"C'mon, man."

"Beg me," Jonathan says.

Patrick holds his breath, biting his lip. Over the years they've worked hard to keep the balance between them, ever since Jonathan Toews got the C, because he doesn't mind giving it up to him on the ice but it's different in bed. He knows Jonny really likes this, that if Patrick were somebody else he might push for it, try to be in control more. It's important to Patrick that he stand on his own here, and even more important that the brunette doesn't push.

The centerman's pushing now, and they both know it. He doesn't say anything else, doesn't make a move, but he's still not doing what Patrick wants either.

Patrick finally lets out that breath, long and slow, emptying his lungs. With the last of it, he just says "Please," low and urgent, pressing his hips back into Jonathan's hand.

And Jonny moves again, fingers stroking inside Patrick, pulling at his thigh. "Wider," he says. "Spread for me, Peeks."

Patrick groans as he does it, feeling like he's tipped over the edge into something deep and dark. Back before they got together some of his jerk-off fantasies went like this, just giving it up to the Captain, letting Jonathan yank his hair as he sucked his cock or shove his face into the hotel bed and then fuck him. It's not that he doesn't want it; he just can't let himself have it.

He's pretty sure Jonathan knows what a big deal this is, because he's careful and serious, hand stroking over Patrick's low back before taking hold of his hip again. When he leans in to press the head of his cock against Patrick's hole his voice is quiet and deep. "Gonna give you what you need, okay? Just lean in and take it, I got you."

Then he's sliding in slow, so Patrick feels every fucking inch of it. The blond bites his lip again, trying to hold in a long groan, because it's been a while and he's forgotten what a trip this is, how it makes him feel like nothing else does. Having to relax, having to wait until his body lets it happen. Having to let his best friend and lover in.

"Fuck," he finally breathes out, the word rough in his throat. He pushes his palms flat against the tile, leaning his weight onto them, shifting his feet. Jonathan's got this rocking, rolling motion going on, slipping inside little by little, and Patrick can see how this is gonna feel once he gets all the way inside, how the brunette's just gonna ride him, using all the power of his body.

"You good?" Jonathan asks, thumb swiping over Patrick's hip.

"Uh-huh," Patrick sighs. He isn't, not totally, but close enough. "You can get in faster, if you want."

"Yeah?" Jonathan says. There's a pause, and then suddenly that rolling motion is one snap of his hips, then another, pushing all the way until his hips are pressed against Patrick's ass. Patrick can't hold back a groan, taking it all at once like that, and for a moment he's breathless, grimacing as he tries to adjust. But Jonathan's pulling out now, and there's only a second to appreciate the relief before he's thrusting back inside and then doing it again, and again, harder every time.

Patrick hates being loud during sex. Well, that's not totally true -- he hates being loud like this, hearing gasps and whimpers coming out of his own mouth, bent over and taking it and hating it and loving it, all these mixed and fucked up feelings at once making him let out words he didn't even mean to say.

"Oh Jonny," he groans. "Oh Jonny -- oh, oh God...Jonny..."

It shouldn't be this good right away but it always is with Jonathan, like something about his dick was made just right for him. It's not the biggest and it's got this curve but when he lets him fuck him it's everything lights up, catching fire. And maybe they'd do this more often if they had the time and space, but it always leaves Patrick feeling so wrecked, like he gave up way more than just his body to Jonathan. He can't shut up when he's getting fucked like this, can't keep the balance that's so important, can't do anything but hang his head and moan for Jonny.

"That good?" the brunette demands, breathless, hips still snapping hard. "Takin' it like a pro, Kaner, right up your sweet tight ass."

Patrick's cheeks burn in the steamy heat of the shower. He knows what he looks like, and in the past he's stayed away from guys who want to treat him like the twink in a porno. But Jonathan never tries to, which is why Patrick lets him every so often.

"Give it to me," he pants, letting it happen, letting the scene play out. "Fuck, I need your cock, Jonny, right there, right there."

Jonathan digs his fingers in mercilessly and just fucking nails him, so Patrick's scrabbling at the tile and trying to stay upright, too gone now for anything but desperate gasps as the Captain slams inside again and again. It goes on so long, until his whole world is only this, Jonathan's hands on his body and cock stretching his ass, the water still falling on his back and the ache in his shoulders as he braces himself against the wall, the heat that's building up inside him.

It's getting to Jonny too, finally. He's saying stuff in a breathless monotone, mostly just "yeah, fuck, c'mon Peeks, take it," but then he groans "you close?" in this raspy, fucked-up voice that makes Patrick's toes curl.

Patrick can't do anything but groan back, low and needy, his whole body tense and straining into his teammate's thrusts. He wants it so bad, but he needs a little help, and he just hopes the brunette remembers that.

Jonathan does. He stops moving, hands sliding up Pat's stomach and chest to hook over his shoulders, and then he's pulling Patrick upright and turning to push him against the side wall, bending his own knees to keep from sliding out. Patrick lets out a startled noise at coming into full-body contact with the cold tile, and his low back aches at the way he's got to arch to keep Jonathan inside, but then Jonathan's calloused hand is wrapping around his cock and he squeezes his eyes shut tighter, smashing his face into the wall.

"Oh, yeah -- " is all he manages to choke out, and then he's coming. He's trapped between the tile and the Captain's strong body at his back, Jonathan panting hard in his ear as he shoots all over his hand, his ass clenching tight around the thickness of his cock. He can't even feel his own fucking legs by the end of it, and it's all he can do to keep standing as Jonathan groans, "Patrick, fuck, Peeks" and grinds into him a few times before letting out a strangled gasp and burying his face against Patrick's neck, shaking all over. Patrick can feel the wet, dirty flutter of Jonathan coming inside him, and the brunette's heart pounding against his back as he finishes.

They're both struggling for air like they've been double-shifting, but the endorphins are flowing and Patrick actually feels pretty great, the heavy weight of the loss gone and his body buzzing all over. It feels good to have Jonathan here too, still plastered up against him, and finally Patrick drops his head backwards onto the brunette's shoulder, feeling a big goofy grin creep across his face.

"Hi," he says, eyes still closed. He probably looks and sounds drunk, but whatever.

"Hi yourself," Jonathan says, still panting hard.

Patrick lies there for a minute longer, just appreciating the giddy flying feeling and how nice and solid Jonathan is, and then he pushes away from the wall, reaching for the soap.
The Captain reaches for him first, though, fingers sliding into Patrick's wet curls and turning his face around. The color's high in the centerman’s face, and his lips are parted with his restless breath. His eyes are bright, and he gives Patrick a soft, fond look, smiling faintly, before leaning in to press a kiss to the blond's mouth, as the winger winds his arms around the back of his lover's neck.

It goes on for a while, because Patrick finds he doesn't want to let go. He thinks back to the last time they kissed and he hates every time they did it quick like that when he wanted more. He can have it now, and he takes it, biting at Jonathan's lips, loving the way they get tender and full the longer they kiss, the way his Captain tastes, how he knows just the way Patrick likes it. It's the best thing about being with someone longer than a night or even a few months, getting stuff done the way he likes it, and he's going to take advantage of it when he can.

And this helps shift the balance back, Jonathan opening his mouth for Patrick push his tongue inside, letting Patrick kiss him, until the blond winger feels more like himself again. He gets what he needs, giving it up for a while, but now he needs to get back on even ground.

Finally Jonathan Toews takes a step back, still with that little smile. He turns the water off. “You good, man?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good. That’s just what Patrick Kane ordered, Jonny.”

“I know. You’re welcome. I told you I’d give it to you good, buddy.” He slaps Patrick on the ass, rather hard.

Patrick yelps and almost slips on the slippery floor, but he catches himself. He looks up at his boyfriend with shiny blue eyes and smiles. “You did. Thanks. I love you so much Jonathan.”

Jonathan grabs Patrick’s face with his fingers and pulls him up toward his own face. He presses his lips against Patrick’s once more, giving him some tongue play, which the blond doesn’t mind. The brunette then wraps his arms around him and gropes his ass, grabbing at him with his hands. Patrick chuckles at the touch.

“Jonny!”

“It’s just so great to have you back. I’ll never loose you again. Kessel will NEVER get you. You are mine.”

Patrick cocks his sweet smile and nods. “There’s no place I’d rather be.”

Notes

Kazer! <3
Okay, so there's about 4 or 5 more chapters left with this, just so you all know!! :)


Next up: Hawks and Leafs Meet Up On The Ice!!