Hawks Are Meant to Fly

Jonathan or Jonny has promised tonight he’d let Patrick take the reins for once. The blond isn’t the best at taking control, but Jonny has faith in him and it will be great practice for his leadership role in the locker room. Plus, Jonny honestly doesn’t have a plan for the evening’s “fuck” event.

They don’t do this often, mostly because Jonny is anal (heh) about being 100% for practice, let alone games. But they have a four day break for Christmas that neither of them are going home yet. Patrick had expected day one to be lazing around half-heartedly chirping each other over Mario Kart and stupid fishing documentaries, but after practice Jonny grabs his wrist and wordlessly tugs Patrick into the bedroom which, Patrick is all about evening sex...or sex in general. Especially with Jonny.

He expects sloppy blowjobs a la last night, but instead in the center of the bed sits a bottle of lube and the plug Patrick had half-jokingly and mostly hopefully bought Jonny last month.
"I want…" Jonny bites his lip but stares at Patrick, dark eyes resolute. "I want you to do what you promised you’d do to me earlier."

Patrick feels a sharp tug of arousal low in his belly. He remembers it, clearly, working Jonny over slow, stripping him down and sucking his cock as a prelude, a tease, just little licks around the head and under the foreskin as he got the lube warmed in his palm, slicked his fingers.

Jonny’s hips had arched up, pressing into the light pressure of one finger at his hole until Patrick pushed in, slow, because Jonny was tight like a vice it had been so long, his hips twisting hungrily. Patrick went at his own pace no matter how Jonny’s body begged, fingers slick with almost too much lube, working Jonny with two and then three fingers stroking over his prostate until Jonny’s hole fluttered around him, hungry, drawing his fingers in like he needed more, more.

Jonny was thrashing on the sheets, his fingers twisted tight in the covers and his cheeks flushed blotchy red, mouth open in wordless, panting moans. He was gorgeous like this, so desperate for it, and Patrick couldn’t help but run his mouth, telling Jonny how he was going to fuck him so good tomorrow, how he was going to come inside him and then plug him up, keep him wet and sloppy and ready for Patrick all day.

"Shit, Jonny, it’s gonna be so good, babe." Patrick whispered, reverent, drawing Jonny in for a slow, hungry kiss because he hadn’t thought Jonny would actually want this.

He gets Jonny on his hands and knees on the bed and takes a moment to just look at him, taking in the dip of his spine and the perfect curve of his ass, running his hands over warm skin that’s just lost its summer tan. Jonny is gorgeous and he can’t believe he’s letting Patrick do this.

He opens Jonny up slow, reverent, until Jonny gets salty, complaining in his low monotone like he isn’t shaking, struggling to keep himself up, his back arching helplessly to get more sensation. Patrick just rolls his eyes and shuts Jonny up by sinking his teeth into the curve of Jonny’s ass, Jonny letting out a punched out gasp which… interesting. Patrick does it again, nipping at him farther down, alongside where his fingers are scissoring into Jonny, and Jonny moans, low and drawn out.

Patrick wants desperately to eat Jonny out until he’s wild for it, but at this point he doesn’t know if either of them can take any more teasing, Jonny’s cock heavy between his legs, the head a deep hungry red, slicked with precum, Patrick’s own dick smearing wetness into his boxers.

"Fuck me already," Jonny hisses out, and Patrick would laugh if he wasn’t so turned on that he was in serious danger of ending this party prematurely.

He takes a moment to enjoy the visual, the fat head of his cock pressing at Jonny where he’s pink and slick, the way Jonny’s hole opens around him, hungry. And then he fucks Jonny the way his body has been begging for it, pushing Jonny’s shoulders down into the bed and fucking him hard and fast.

"Fuck, baby, can’t believe you’re letting me plug you up. You’re gonna feel so good, ready for me," Patrick pants, pushing into Jonny harder until he’s whimpering. "That’s what you want, isn’t it, want to be ready for me to fuck you any time, want me in you always. Next time - next time, fuck, I’m gonna fuck you full of my come and then eat it out of you, and then I’m going to plug you up and take you out, show you off."

Jonny lets out a broken sob.

"Yeah, you want that? Think you can manage that, act like you aren’t plugged up, pretend you aren’t on the edge of coming with a plug nestled up against your prostate? You love it so much, you always want it, do you really think you could sit down in your suit and tie and act like everything’s normal?"

Jonny makes a wordless noise, pushing back into Patrick’s thrusts, and Patrick’s fingers tighten at Jonny’s hips as he slows his thrusts, rolling his hips in an insistent grind against Jonny’s prostate that has him thrashing, gasping open-mouthed and desperate into the pillow.

"You would try it for me, wouldn’t you," Patrick says, quiet, reverent, because Jonny would.

Jonny nods blindly, fingers tightening in his sheets. “Anything,” he gasps out, so open and trusting, and god, Patrick loves him.

"Come for me," Patrick says, and Jonny does.


Slowly, he rolls over to face Jonathan Toews, shifting closer to him. What now? Was Jonny even awake still? Patrick nudges at one of his friend's big shoulders, then, when his Captain doesn't move, he does it again, harder. One of Jonathan's hands flails, trying to slap the winger's hand away. Patrick hears a soft, 'fuck,' as Jonathan rolls over to look at him with an expression of horror, his mouth agape.

"You probably shouldn't just assume people are asleep, Jonny," the blond says with a chuckle.

Jonny's mouth closes. He opens it to say something, then closes it again. "You- I- Fucking hell," the brunette man sighs. "I'm so sor-"

Patrick shuts him up by wrapping a hand around the back of his neck and pulls him in for a proper kiss. Jonny's arm finds its way to the blond winger's waist.

Kissing Jonathan is like...nothing Patrick has ever experienced before. Patrick is overwhelmed with sensation, tasting his friend and Captain, feeling him, his smell, the little hungry noises he makes (that were way more of a turn on than they should have been). Patrick wonders how he has survived so long without him.

When he pulls away, reluctantly, Jonathan looks bewildered. And hot. His lips are all shiny and red, his face is flushed. His hair is tousled from where Patrick has run his fingers through it. He is breathless, his bare chest heaving with the effort to breathe. Patrick has the sudden urge to touch him, just get his hands all over his friend. Yeah, he had checked Jonathan Toews out before, post-game, but never like this. He looks so good. So maybe Patrick doesn’t have the best taste. It wasn’t like he hasn’t checked out Sharpy, Tyler or anyone else before. He isn't blind, the guy is an angel, but he has gone and fallen for his Captain and his best friend.

Jonathan raises his eyebrows. He looks like he wants to say something. Patrick reaches up, cradling the side of his face, running a thumb along his friend’s wet lips.

"That..." the brunette whispered against the blond's thumb. "You sure?"

Patrick just nods.

Jonny takes Patrick's face in his big hands, just like the blond has dreamed about. He focuses on what he has now. Jonathan's large, calloused, impossibly gentle hands, pulling him close. His mouth, moving against his own, sucking on his bottom lip and softly biting it. A squeak finds its way out of Patrick's throat. Jonathan smiles against Patrick's mouth. The blond opens his mouth against his friend's, licking at his lips, asking…no, begging for entry. His Captain lets him in, sliding their tongues together, eliciting a moan from Jonathan that goes straight to Patrick's groin. He hooks a leg over Jonathan's hip.

Abruptly, his Captain pulls away. Patrick looks at him questioningly (and sadly).

"Aren't you…" Jonny breathes out. "Don't you think you're moving on a little fast?"

Patrick shakes his head. Wasn't that up to him? "Want you," was all he says, placing a tiny kiss to the corner of the centre's mouth and presses his body up against him, to explain his intentions. Patrick finds he isn't the only one who is hard.

"Mmm," Jonny hums. "You too. But, I can't...it just feels wrong, but yet…so right. You know?"

Patrick doesn't know. He shakes his head, sliding his hands down Jonathan's back and into his boxers to cup a feel of his perfectly toned ass. It is majestic. He slides his hands around to the front. They couldn’t possibly stop now, when they were already in too deep and way over their heads. They were in love and there wasn’t much they could do to change that.

"I just...I just can't Kaner. Not tonight. I'm really sorry, but can you please just respect that?"

Patrick unhooks his leg from Jonathan's hip, and then rests his head against Jonny's chest. "Okay," he answers, removing his hands from Jonny's boxers (after giving his ass one last squeeze). Jonny hugs him close, kissing him sweetly once more. He apologizes again to Patrick, who just rolls over, pressing his back against Jonny's chest. He tucks his head under the Captain's chin. The older man wraps an arm around the younger man’s waist, pulling him closer.

“I forgive you Jonny, I understand.”

“Thanks Kaner. You’re the best.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Patrick winds their fingers together, holding their linked hands against his chest. He falls asleep to the feeling of Jonathan Toews, his best friend in the whole world, kissing the top of his head.


Patrick is rudely awoken by Jonathan's alarm. The older man untangles himself from his blond partner to hit it. He rubs Patrick's arm. "Come on. Optional skate. Up."

Patrick grunts and grumbles. "Optional, Jonny. Optional."

"Not for me. And you're coming."

"Five more minutes."

"Fine. Five."

Patrick pulls the covers around himself, rolling over and puts his face into the pillows, breathing deeply, smelling his friend. He rolls out of the big bed with a groan. He is suddenly very cold. Stupid Canadian, always has to be cold.

He is tired, as it was like the ungodly hours of the morning. Maybe dating the Captain wasn't the best idea Patrick has ever had, but his heart cannot deny his feelings for the man. He stumbles down the hallway, following the sounds of the brunette in the kitchen. He rubs at his face, yawning. He sees him, wrapped up in a dressing gown, his hair all stuck up on one side where he has slept on it, making coffee.

Somehow, his ass still manages to be perfectly curved, even wrapped up like that. Jonathan turns around and smiles fondly at Patrick. The blond has never seen his brunette friend smile like that. He likes it.

Patrick shivers. He goes over to Jonathan, tugging on the cord that ties his dressing gown and unties it. The Captain looks at him curiously.

"Cold." He slips his arms around Jonathan's waist and leans his head on Jonny's shoulder. The centre ties the dressing gown up around them both, wrapping his arms around his winger.

“Warm now?”

"Warm," Patrick sighs happily. “Jonny?"

"Hmm?" Jonathan hums. His voice is so deep, Patrick can feel the vibrations through his chest.

"Are you my boyfriend now?"

Jonathan Toews is quiet for a moment, winding his finger through a lock of Patrick's hair. Patrick hears him gulp. Nervous? Afraid? Of what though?

"I guess so. Yeah."

Patrick smiles into Jonathan's neck, changing his mind. Dating the Captain was and is the best decision he had/has ever made! He is madly in love with his friend and he doesn’t care who knows it, even if his friend had occasions where he didn’t “feel up to sex.” But Patrick Kane doesn’t mind, he can put up with it.

His heart wants Jonny and his heart will have Jonny.

As they remain in the kitchen area, making the breakfast together, both of them can’t help but talk about the fan signs at the game the previous night. The fans of Chicago can almost taste the romance between them.

They know and call for the bromance. On signs, many have the word “Kazer”. Kazer is Kaner and Tazer. Apparently it is their “ship” name. It basically means that they like Jonathan and Patrick together. Neither mind it and they often joke and laugh about it. In fact, they are laughing about it now as they make breakfast in the kitchen.

Notes

Yes, I ship Kazer indeed. Who doesn’t?? Who couldn't??
Honestly, who has a logical reason to hate on Kazer? Kaner haters? Jonny haters? Logical reasons to hate 'em? Nah.


Next up: Kessel...oh man... :(