Percy shouldn’t have been surprised by the enthusiasm with which Holden kissed him back. It had been so long since they’d last been together like this, but the urgency remained the same. He could feel his stomach bottoming out as the other man chased his tongue with his own, heat building between his thighs as he hungrily swallowed Holden’s moans. Fuck. It had been as many years since he’d kissed anyone as it had been since he’d kissed Holden. Percy had lied through his teeth for years, swearing off dating and women under the guise that they were a distraction from the hockey, but the truth was there, buried underneath guilt and shame and something so visceral he couldn’t put a name to it. He had missed Holden with such a wild desperation that he’d never allowed himself to fully process the loss of him. It was easier to ignore it and bury it deep than to let it destroy him.
“Fuck, wow,” Percy whimpered. He could feel himself growing hard at the mere press of Holden against him, a growl vibrating in his chest as he drove his knee higher between Holden’s thighs, applying pressure where he thought the other man might appreciate it. The sensation went straight to his own cock, and he already knew this exact moment would stay with him the next time he was alone in the shower, fist between his thighs.
It was embarrassing to admit, but he’d never been with anybody before. Never with a man because he couldn’t allow himself to think like that, and never with a woman because he’d been too afraid, or maybe not afraid enough. He had no idea. He’d never known the press of a stranger grinding against his thigh, and had never felt the hard planes of a man’s chest pressed against his own. Not in any sort of sexual context, anyway. He’d gotten into scuffles on the ice, had even grown hard once or twice after a game against Holden, but it was nothing like this.
The closest Percy had ever experienced was all those years ago, the two of them tucked away in their shared dorm before things had fallen apart. Holden would step out of the shower with just a towel to preserve his modesty, Percy rooted to the spot as he struggled to work out where the best place to look was. He’d always flustered at the sight of his best friend, and neither of them could deny under oath the amount of nights they’d heard each other’s muffled whimpers and heavy panting as they got themselves off under the bedsheets. They might never have spoken about it, but they knew the truth.
With his back against the wall, Percy felt as though he’d handed over every ounce of control. He was putty in Holden’s hands, and he was certain the other man could do anything to him now and he’d fold, ready to do his bidding. He bucked his hips for the second time, enjoying the rush of heat that came with it, when a loud bang sounded somewhere in the distance, something akin to a door slamming. The sound was far out, but not enough for Percy’s liking as it jolted him out of his daze, snapping him back to reality.
Was somebody outside? Had they been caught?
Without thinking, Percy’s hands went straight to Holden’s shoulders, shoving the other man away as he scrambled free from their isolated corner, his skin flushed and clammy, fingers trembling. He glanced around them, searching for the disturbance, but found nothing. He could see nobody around, could hear no voices or footsteps. They were entirely alone, but it didn’t matter. The icy breeze suddenly reached him, washing over him and dragging him back to his senses.
“What the hell are you doing? Someone could see us,” he snapped, sending the other man an accusatory glare.
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