You’re full. So very full. Not in the way that one would imagine, no, you’re not full in regards to ingesting food. You're full because of Colton. More specifically, Colton’s big, girthy cock that is currently thrusting in and out of you at a hard and fast pace. His tip reaches your g-spot at every thrust and each time he touches your special spot with his dick, your back arches, your body shudders in pleasure, and your eyes flutter shut despite Colton’s pleas for you to keep them open. Sweat rolls down your neck, down to your chest, ultimately ending up at your navel before being licked up by Colton. He leaves hickeys in his wake as he travels back up, nearing your face, but continuing his hard and fast thrusts.

His face hovers above yours, the tips of his shaggy, sweat-soaked hair brushes your face as he lowers his lips to yours, lightly kissing your nose and cheeks as he absolutely ruins you down below. Your inner thighs are bitten and bruised from his earlier scavenges, his “appetizer” before the meal. The sound of your moans and his groans fill the room along with the sound of your headboard banging against the wall, sorry neighbors. “Love, shit, love you’re so fucking tight, I- oh my god I can’t. Baby, you close?” You moan in response, senses overloaded by the overwhelming amount of pleasure.

Colton’s hand grips your chin, your eyes open quickly, “Words, love, I need words.” You start to speak but cut yourself off with a loud cry as Colton hits a particularly sensitive spot inside you. “God Colt, I’m close, oh baby I’m so close.” Colton quickens his pace, his cock stretching your walls in a way that is so delightful you can’t help but scream every time he pushes in oh so deep. His fingers trial down your body in a slow and gentle manner, dipping in between your folds, scooping up your wetness and using it as lubricant when he starts rubbing circles on your clit.

“Colton!” You screech! Your mouth falls open into an open ‘O’, your eyes screw shut, tension over taking your features as you start to feel your orgasm overtake your body. You moan loudly, your peak causes your toes to curl, your body to shake, and your hands to grip Colton’s biceps, leaving behind little crescent marks in your wake. Colton’s head drops to the nape of your neck as he releases his cum into you. His teeth bite into your neck as his hips stutter and slow. His breath is hot against you as he lets out a breathy laugh, something he always does after you have sex. He pulls out of you, causing the both of you to groan, he reaches down and pulls the condom off before tying it and tossing it in the general direction of the trash.

His body drops down on top of yours, his arms wrap around your warm, slick skin before he rolls you both over. Your head rests on his chest, his heart beats erratically in his chest. Colton’s arms are tight around your body, keeping you atop of him, he presses a kiss to the top of your head, a silent reminder of his love for you. The room is now quiet, no more headboard banging against the wall, no more moans, groans, and whimpers, no more obscenities being spoken. All that remains now is the aftermath of your sexual escapades, the smell of it hangs in the air. You shift atop of Colton, brushing his semi-hard dick enticing a whimper from him.

"I'm going out for a couple of hours!" You called upstairs, not bothering to wait for a response before you were out the door. You nodded along to your playlist as you drove out of town, trying to calm your nerves and keep from psyching yourself out of your plan. It shouldn't be this hard, you chided yourself. It was totally normal to not know how to skate. Hell, plenty of people probably never learned. 

It wasn't that you had never had the opportunity, it had just never seemed like something you should do. Whenever your dad mentioned skating, it was never an invitation; always "Your brother and I are going to the rink, why don't you spend some time with mom?" You didn't blame him. Your brother had wanted to play hockey since he was two; you had never shown the same interest. 

But now you were seventeen, and had grown up in a hockey family without ever learning to skate. You steeled yourself for the embarrassment of learning as you drove. You knew it was harder than it looked, and that it would take time to pick up, but you really, really weren't looking forward to embarrassing yourself. 

Whatever. At least you were learning. You parked at the sportsplex and leaned back in your seat, sighing. God, you needed to just suck it up. It wasn't a big deal. With a surge of willpower, you got out of the car and started walking to the entrance. 

It was the Sunday afternoon free skate and the people you spotted stumbling around the rink, grabbing onto the wall, gave you some small sense of comfort. You walked up to the skate desk and nervously swapped in your shoes for a pair of skates, lacing them up carefully before standing. You were more than a little wobbly, and could feel the extra inches the skates added to your height, but you pushed past the discomfort of the new feeling. 

You tried to walk as normally as possible to the door of the rink. Taking a deep breath, you placed one skate on the ice, then the other. You used the boards to give yourself a tiny push, until you were gliding very slowly, very shakily, across the ice. 

You fell in under twenty seconds.

Dragging yourself up using the boards, you gritted your teeth and tried to pick up a skate and follow the motion that always looked so simple from afar. Clinging to the boards for support, you progressed along the outside of the rink, trying to ignore the people speeding around the interior, especially the young kid who gave you a haughty look as he zipped past.

You fell nearly every time you tried to go without the boards. Your patience wore away slowly, but you kept at it, ignoring the dull aches that stayed as reminders of your failed attempts. 

You had come nearly an hour into free skate and, by the time you could go just barely a minute without the boards to cling on to, it was being announced over the loudspeaker that it was time to leave. 

You weren't done. Not nearly. You were frustrated and wanted so badly just to go home and cry, but you wished you could have stayed for longer. Even if it took hours, you wanted to learn. You wanted to rid yourself of the shame that overtook you when you stepped onto the ice. You unlaced your skates aggressively, kicking them off before you sank your head into your hands. 

You were nearly shaking from the mix of anger, frustration, and despair rising inside you. At least, until a warm hand settled on your shoulder. You raised your head from your hands and stared blankly as the guy cocked his head at you. 

"Sorry to bother you, but are you okay?" You let out a sigh, your nerves too frayed to put on a pleasant face for the stranger. 

"Yeah, fine." Your words were clipped. Silence fell for a second before you continued, letting your frustration bubble over to the surface. "I just--I never learned how to skate. And it shouldn't be this hard but it is and it's so goddamn embarrassing to have to go out there and not be able to even stay standing without the boards for support and I--" you broke off, shaking your head. "It sucks." You stiffened a second later, wide eyes rising to meet the strangers. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to say all of that, I'm just so frustrated..." He slid onto the bench next to you, careful to leave room between you. 

"No need to apologize. It seems like you're having a rough day." You laughed a little at that. 

"How could you tell?" 

He chewed on his lip for a moment, hesitating before he spoke. "I could help you out, if you want." 

You tipped your head in the direction of the empty rink. "Free skates over."

 He waved a hand.

"It's fine. The figure skaters are doing conditioning today so they aren't using it. Besides," he said, rising to his feet and taking a few steps over to wave at the guy behind the skate desk. "I know Kevin." He pointed to the rink, raising his eyebrows high in a silent question. Kevin narrowed his eyes, but nodded in some semblance of giving permission. "See?" The stranger turned back to you, grinning. 

Half of you wanted to just turn him down and just go home. The other half was won over by determination and maybe, just maybe, his wide, brilliant smile. 

"Okay," you agreed hesitantly, not entirely convinced of your decision. 

"Great!" He exclaimed, before walking to pick up one of your skates. "Look at this," he said. "The bottoms of these are laced way too loose." You went to grab the skate from his hand, but he moved it out of your reach. "Let me," he said, and you met his gaze for a half-second before nodding. 

He kneeled down and guided the skate onto your foot before starting to tug at the laces. "I'm Colton," he said, eyes never leaving his work. 

"Y/n," you responded quickly. "My--my brother plays and my dad used to, but I never learned to skate." You admitted. 

He nodded. "Your brother any good?" You jolted as he abruptly tightened the laces. 

"Yeah. He's getting drafted this year." You ran your gaze over the area, not quite sure where to look as Colton finished lacing up your first skate and moved to the other. "Are you trying to make the NHL?" 

You could just barely make out his smile from your angle. "Yeah. I've got a brother in the league, hoping to make it a family thing, you know?" 

"Who's your brother?" You asked, hoping he wouldn't mind the question. 

"Kirby Dach, he plays for--"

"The Blackhawks," you finished with him. "I've heard of him," you explained. You didn't know much about Kirby Dach, and definitely hadn't known that he had a brother. But you had heard of him, had seen him play once before, when the Blackhawks had come to town to play the Oilers. 

Just then, Colton sat back on his heels. 

"All good to go," he said, smiling. "Are you sure about this?" He added a second later, sensing your hesitation. "You can totally back out, it isn't a big deal."

 You shook your head. "I want to do this." You weren't going to sit around and let shame eat at you forever. You needed to learn, if only to appease yourself. He met your eyes for a second, apparently accepting whatever he saw there because the next moment he was standing up, grabbing the gear bag that you hadn't even realized sat next to the bench. He laced up his skates with a practiced, smooth, efficiency. You observed in silence until he stood. 

You followed him to the rink door, and watched with a slight sense of envy at how smoothly he transitioned between soft, padded floor and harsh, slick ice. 

He stood at the other side of the door, palms up as he waited for you to take his hands. You swallowed once and took them, letting his firm grasp stabilize you. 

"Okay, now step onto the ice." You did as he told you, trying to push away your nervousness as you got both feet onto the ice. You were sure you were gripping his hands too hard, but he kindly didn't comment on it. "Try and stand up straight," he said, and you did your best to straighten yourself, relieving some of the pressure you had put on his hands. 

"I'm going to pull you farther onto the ice, is that okay? You can just let yourself glide." 

You nodded, determined, and he started skating backward, bringing you alone with him. 

You bumped right into him as he stopped, not quite sure how to stop. Colton let out a laugh as he reestablished the distance between you. 

"Here, you ever skied before?" You nodded. "You can stop the same way on skates. Just make a V with your skates--yeah, just like that--I'm gonna pull you further and you can try stopping."  He started skating again and this time you were ready for it when he halted abruptly. You grinned up at him as you stopped, keeping a good distance from him. 

"Okay, now we're going to try skating." 

You chewed on the inside of your lip. "Okay." 

"Just try picking up one skate, then the other. You're gonna try to waddle like a duck." He watched as you followed his directions. "That's perfect. You don't need to pick them up very high." 

You knew your face was screwed up with determination and focus and you probably looked stupid, but hey, you had already made more progress than you had in the hour before. And you were skating, vaguely. It was awkward and slow and if you tried to do anything more you'd surely fall on your face, but you were doing it! 

Colton followed you, hands hovering nearby, ready to pull you up if you fell. You pulled your gaze from the ice to glance at him, unable to help yourself from admiring the strong, sharp angles of his face or the confident tilt to his lips, or -- you stumbled, your skate catching on something. You jerked your head forward right as you lost your balance, your breath escaping in a short gasp. Your feet had come out from right under you, but the harsh impact of the ice never came -- Colton's hands clamped down on your waist, effectively keeping you upright as your feet scrambled for purchase. 

Finally, you were able to steady yourself and felt Colton pull away. You stood fully, cheeks heating with embarrassment as you saw the glint in his eye. He'd undoubtedly realized what had caused you to break your attention from the ice. 

"You need to stay focused," he reminded you, skating lazily around you, clearly holding back a chirp with the way the corners of his lips twitched. "Especially when you're first learning." You nodded quickly, refusing to meet his eyes. 

"Can't impress anyone if you fall on your face after checking them out, eh?" Ah -- there it was. Of course he wasn't going to let you just sweep the whole thing under the rug. You said nothing in response, though you picked up a foot and started skating clumsily again, 

"I can't?" You asked, too late, but with a rush of confidence. "What about this?" You tripped dramatically, taking a half-second to hope that you had judged the distance right, and fell into Colton, his arms shooting out to grab you. 

"That," he laughed, "Might just work." 

Again, he helped you stand, but unlike last time he kept his hands on your waist. Despite the chill of the rink the air between you felt heated. He studied you carefully, as if he were searching for something in your expression. You were beginning to feel unreasonably exposed by the time he broke his gaze from you and turned away. He kept a hand on your waist, but maneuvered so that he was by your side. 

"Okay, we're going to try turning now." Right, you had only gone in straight lines so far. 

"Great," you replied, hoping it sounded cheerful enough. He walked you through it, calm and patient, and grinned when you successfully, albeit slowly, took a lap of the rink. 

"Congrats," he joked. "I think you're ready for the big league." 

"Maybe as a backup plan," you laughed. 

"You're gonna be skating circles around me in no time."

"You think?" You encouraged, biting back a smile as you skated to the boards, where he leaned. 

"Hell yeah. I'm a good teacher."

"The best," you reassured him, genuine despite your teasing tone. There was a beat of silence, and you forced yourself to speak. 

"Hey, uh" you forced out. "Would you maybe want to --" Nearby a door slammed open. 

"Dacher!" Someone called. "You in here?" 

Colton's head snapped up, landing on the guy peeking through the door on the far side of the rink. 

"Coming," He shot back, voice carrying easily to the other side of the ice. The door closed again and Colton cursed, shaking his head. "We have a team meeting," he groaned. 

"Oh, that's okay," you replied, trying not to let your disappointment show. You followed him off the ice, your words stuck in your throat. He quickly unlaced his skates, shoving them roughly in his bag before turning to you. 

"Are you free later?" He asked anxiously. "The meeting is only  a half-hour and I know that's, like, super long to just sit around but maybe--"

You cut him off with a smile, "I can wait in the lobby," You told him, then nodded to the door his teammate had come from. "Go, you're late." He nodded and turned, though not before you caught the brilliant smile flashing across his face. You smothered one of your own as he waved behind him and went through the door. 

And if a goofy grin crept onto your face while you were unlacing your skates -- well, no one but you had to know. Correction: you and Kevin, who seemed to be holding back laughter as you came up to return your skates. 

"He's a good kid," was all he said as he handed you back your shoes. You flushed, unsure how to respond. 

"Good," you replied, a beat too late, but he didn't seem to mind as he nodded approvingly and went back to scrolling through his phone. 

You paused. "Free skates over, shouldn't you have left?" 

"I've got the next shift at the snack bar," he grunted, not looking away from the screen. 

"Oh, okay." Relieved that you hadn't kept him overtime, you put on your shoes and headed into the lobby. 

You were on your second cup of hot chocolate when Colton came into the lobby, his teammates streaming out toward the exit behind him. He grinned widely as he spotted you, though it faltered as he drew closer, dropping completely as he halted a few feet from you. 

"Is that hot chocolate?" He asked, disbelieving. You nodded, taking another sip. "It's the middle of the summer!"

"And we're at an ice rink," you pointed out. "Hot chocolate is more than appropriate." Besides, the lobby was air-conditioned; the heat outside meant nothing. He shook his head, but stepped closer to the snack bar,

"One... hot chocolate, I guess," he told Kevin, who snorted in laughter but complied. 

"Just because I did doesn't mean you have to," you told him once he had sat down at your table, hot chocolate in hand. 

"It absolutely does," he insisted, half-smile playing across his lips. He took a sip, cursing as he burnt his tongue. 

"It's hot!" He gasped as he jerked away, setting the cup back on the table. 

"I mean, otherwise it would just be chocolate," you teased. 

"Hey, don't make fun of me, that hurt!" 

"Sorry, sorry," you surrendered. "I mean, it's not like anyone could have guessed that the hot chocolate would be hot."

 He narrowed his eyes. "I think I liked you better when you were falling over yourself trying to check me out." You rolled your eyes but were unable to prevent your smile. You knew any attempts to defend yourself would only end in more teasing, so you stayed silent. A few seconds passed as Colton blew cool air on his hot chocolate and set it down again. 

"Sorry I made you wait," he said, the humor dropped from his expression. 

"Don't worry about it," you reassured him. "How was your meeting?" Colton shrugged, relaxing into the back of his chair. 

"We just went over video and talked about who we're playing next week." 

"You didn't practice." You cocked your head, frowning. It wasn't a question, really, but you had said it like one.  

"In thirty minutes?" He laughed, "Definitely not." 

"You had a gear bag earlier, though." 

Colton's face lit up in surprise, "Oh, yeah. I was going to come in and do some drills beforehand." And instead he'd ended up babysitting you as you struggled to even stand on the ice without falling. Shame flooded your stomach. 

"If you still want to practice, I can leave," you offered quickly, rising from your seat and grabbing your now-empty cup in a sudden motion.

"Y/N!" His hand came to rest on your forearm, gently urging you to sit back down. "It's okay," he reassured you. "I don't want to practice." You hesitantly settled back in your seat.

"C'mon," he said casually. "Tell me about yourself." His gaze dipped down to where you still clutched your cup, like you were about to get up and run at any moment. "Please." You forced yourself to relax. You pulled your hand away from the cup and considered it for a moment. 

"You first," you decided. "Life story, go." 

He held your gaze for a moment before surrendering. "Okay, but I'm forcing you to tap in when it gets boring." 

"Of course," you agreed, smiling as he launched into a dramatic narration of his life so far. 

You sat in the lobby, trading stories, until long after Colton had finished his drink. It wasn't even dark yet, but you cursed anyway as you checked your phone and noticed the time. 

You looked back to Colton, apologetic. 

"I need to get home for dinner," you explained, a weight sinking in your stomach as you realized that you needed to leave. Colton's lingering smile faded, but he nodded. 

"Text me sometime?" He asked like there was a chance you’d say no. 

"Only if you give me more skating lessons." You answered. "I'm pretty sure I was promised the ability to skate circles around you." 

Colton grinned. "You've got yourself a deal." You stood, pushing your chair in, and Colton rose with you. 

"Thank you," he said quietly as you walked to the exit. 

You let out a startled laugh, "What for?" You asked, "You were the one who taught me to skate." 

"These past couple of months have been," he paused, looking for the right words. "I don't know, they've been weird for me. Like I've been on autopilot. Practice, eat, sleep, and stress over my draft ranking. Meeting you was...different," he explained. 

"In a good way, I hope," you quipped with a slight smile. 

He nodded. "In a good way,” he affirmed. “You helped." 

You stopped in front of your car and turned to look up at Colton. Seconds ticked away as you stood there, silent except for the jingle of your keys as you slipped them from your pocket. He was so close to you, smiling in a way that made you blush even though you didn't know why. You weren't sure how his eyes came to be filled with so much adoration in only a few hours together, but it sent your heart racing. The silence hung for a few moments before you sucked in a small breath and nodded to your car. 

"This is it, I guess." 

Colton blinked, glancing to look at your car like he was startled by your words. There was another beat of silence before you added quietly "Can I see you again?" 

Colton smiled, "I mean, you already know where to find me." He gestured back to the lighted sign of the sportsplex. You chewed on the inside of your cheek, feeling awkward as if you hadn't spent the last few hours getting to know the boy in front of you. 

"Thanks for the skating lesson," you said finally, as you turned to your car. 

"Thanks for the company," he replied, watching as you got into the car before walking farther out into the parking lot. 

You weren't sure why your heart was racing, but you fought to calm it as you buckled your seat belt and pulled away from the sportsplex. You turned down your music, instead choosing to let your memory revive every smile of Colton's and the way his face had lit up with delight every time you made a shitty chirp. You grinned out at the road ahead, unable to stop even if you wanted to. God, everything about Colton was...indescribable. Quite literally. There was something magnetic about him, something that spawned from the casual confidence he held himself with and the lighthearted chirps and the glint in his eye when he said something that he knew was clever. You couldn't stop thinking about him. About how his hands had ghosted your waist as you had skated and the patience he had shown with you. 

You were home before you even noticed, too lost replaying every moment of the last few hours. You knew you shouldn't, but you grabbed your phone as soon as you parked, and started a chat with Colton. 

You should have kissed me before I left you typed, bursting at the seams with newfound confidence. Colton only took a minute to reply, though it was long enough for you to debate throwing your phone through the car window. 

Sorry, knew that if you got a taste you wouldn’t have wanted to leave.

 You let out a long, exasperated sigh, even as you grinned wildly. You found that you could picture his face and body language as if he had said it to your face. 

Anyone ever told you how cocky you are? You replied back.

I'm not bragging.

You'll have to prove it to me sometime

He sent back a winky face.

Will do

You put your phone down, still smiling like crazy as you leaned back in your seat. You really wanted Colton to prove it to you. 

Your mom cursed beside you as the goalie stopped a shot from your brother. 

"Next time," your dad gritted out, sounding like he was going to burst a blood vessel. You tried to keep your face neutral as the puck was carried down into the d-zone. You felt a little guilty -- a lot guilty, actually, for not entirely cheering for your brother. Hell, you were hardly even watching him. Instead, your eyes had been fixed on a player from the opposite team all night. A player who was now skating to the penalty box, still arguing with the ref. You bit back a smile. 

Colton pulled off his helmet as he sat down, shaking his head like he couldn't believe he'd been called on the blatant trip. 

His eyes darted up to the stands and you tracked them as they scanned the crowd until landing on you. He threw you a Look, a get-a-load-of-this-guy type of glance. The corners of your lips quirked despite your best efforts, even as you rolled your eyes. 

You deserved that, you tried to relay silently across the ice. From the betrayed glare he shot you before turning his attention back to the ice, you figured he got the message. 

You let yourself linger on Colton for a moment -- the wild mess of wet hair that he brusquely combed back with his fingers, the energy and power loaded into his big frame. 

"What was that?" Your mom whispered, leaning into you. Your eyes shot back to the game, 

"Uh," you scanned the play, "Mike couldn't clear the puck." Like always. 

"Not that," she chided, "Him." You followed her wide-eyed stare all the way to the penalty box. "You know him?" She asked. You couldn't help your smile. 

"Yeah," you said distantly, watching Colton as he stood and prepared to leave the box. Your mom made a noise at your vague answer, but was quickly distracted by the action on the ice. A long pass from Mike landed on the stick of Nate, the top forward on your brother's team. He navigated smoothly around the other team's defense and moved in to take a shot -- only to get crashed into by another player. They fell into the goal in a heap, bringing it off its posts. It was only when Nate stood that you were able to spot the name on the back of the other player's jersey. 

You cursed under your breath, then again, louder, as players crowded together behind the goal. It took a few seconds of searching, but eventually you spotted your brother, holding Colton in a headlock in the middle of the scrum. Colton's eyes were wide in shock and, maybe, knowing him, delight. He started to laugh as the refs came in and broke it up. You weren't sure whether to laugh with him or hide your face in shame, but you settled on a mix of both, smiling into your hand as you turned away from the sight. 

"Come on, kid, tell em who's boss!" Your dad shouted, sending silent laughter shaking in your chest. 

"Yeah!" you called, smiling. "Get him!" There was no way that Colton should be able to hear you all the way on the other end of the rink, with half a dozen players chirping him at the same time, but you wished you could have seen the look on his face if he had. Colton returned to the box for the final few minutes of the third period, and was there when your brother's team failed to score a late game-tying goal. You didn't see him leave the box -- your parents already pulling you out of your seats and to the exit. 

While your dad complained about the game, you waited for players to file out of the locker room. It was Colton who appeared first, catching your eye and excusing himself from his teammates. Your parents weren't paying attention -- your mom on her phone and your dad talking more at her than to her-- so you walked to meet him. 

Grabbing a hold of his arm and turning so that you were by his side, you asked cheerfully, "Ready to meet the parents?"

Colton's jaw dropped. "Now?" He wheezed. 

"Why not?"

He sputtered. "I just -- your brother -- we won?"

"I'm sure there are no hard feelings," you told him with a smile. 

"You're the worst," he groaned as you began to pull him along. 

"I just want to be able to cheer for my boyfriend," you explained as you approached your parents. You stopped a few feet away and cleared your throat. It took a few seconds for both of them to look up, their eyes slowly settling on you and Colton. 

"Mom, Dad," you said calmly. "Meet my boyfriend, Colton." 

You watched as your dad took in Colton, and more specifically, his jersey. You hardly remembered to breathe as he surveyed him, before tipping his head back and letting out a round of booming laughter. 

"Your brothers gonna throw a fit," was all he said when he had stopped laughing. A little bit of the tension left your body. Colton stepped forward then, reaching out to shake hands with your parents. 

"Nice to meet you, Mr. y/l/n, Mrs. y/l/n," he said smoothly, polite like he hadn't just spent the past couple of hours chirping and shoving opposing players into the boards. Your mom hummed approvingly, shooting you a look that told you perfectly what she thought about Colton -- more specifically, about his looks. 

You all turned when your mom caught sight of your brother coming down the hall. You couldn't help but crack a smile at Colton's sudden stiffness. 

"This is more to torture him than you," you whispered, nearly missing his replying eye roll. "Maybe he has short term memory," you suggested.

"You love this, don't you?" He murmured, not taking his eyes off of your brother as he approached. 

"Maybe I like it a little -- that you're willing to do this for me." 

"You're worth it," Colton grumbled, like he was reminding himself more than you. You slipped your hand into his and squeezed. 

Ten feet away, your brother stopped dead. He looked the two of you up and down once, twice, met your eyes, and said,

"Hell no." 

You grinned. 

"Did you not see him earlier?" He asked incredulously, hardly acknowledging Colton. 

"Mhm."

"You're...what? Dating this guy?"

"Mhm." 

Colton's expression was pained, still locked onto your brother like he was trying to send him a telepathic apology. Your brother seethed, glaring at you like he wished he had deadly lasers for eyes. 

"You're such a pain in my ass, you know?" He told you, grumbling. You did know -- had been told it again and again. You took a certain amount of pride in it. With that, his gaze cut to Colton.

"That whole --" he roughly mimed the headlock he'd put Colton in earlier, "I'll let you consider that my shovel talk." You suppressed a laugh. Always trying to be intimidating, your brother. You were pretty sure that any other shovel talk he could try would end in him running out of threats and storming off to try and maintain his image. 

Colton nodded, lips quirking a bit at the corners. "Your team sucks," your brother added lamely. Colton pressed his lips together. He was trying so hard to suppress a chirp, it was actually sort of cute -- he was on his best behavior for you. You tugged at his hand, turning his attention to you. 

"We're gonna head home," you told him. Though this was absurdly fun for you, it was probably best to wait a while before forcing him into spending too much time with your family. "Call me later." He nodded, leaning in to you before throwing a glance to your family and pressing a chaste kiss on your cheek.

"I think they like you," you whispered, and he shot you a half-hearted glare. "They will," you promised sincerely, because even though you knew everything would be fine, Colton couldn't recognize how harmless your brother was, even if you'd told him at least a dozen times. 

Your parents waved him goodbye as you walked out. Your brother decidedly didn't and gave you the cold shoulder, simmering with anger. He'd come around quickly enough; even though he pretended to be a tough guy, you knew he couldn't ever stay mad. 

Colton texted you immediately after you got into the car. 

That was a disaster

It was funny you texted back, knowing his reply before you received it

To you, maybe

Think of it like a test You glanced around at your family as your dad started the car before finishing the text. You passed

I've never been good in school

There's a first time for everything

Admittedly, it had been a little mean of you. It was necessary, though. Colton would have been petrified and polite as a saint regardless of where or how he met your parents. You had wanted them to see more than just his best behavior -- even if you did really enjoy seeing him dust off his manners. 

Also, I don't think I could stand another game where I'm not allowed to react to all of the shit you do on the ice

I mean, you did shout for me to fight your brother, but okay

You sent back an ellipsis. 

Holy shit you traitor

He's my brother!

How dare you

If you hadn't gotten into a scrum with him there wouldn't have been any confusion

Wait do I have to avoid hitting him now?

Definitely not

Your advice is awful. I'm gonna avoid hitting him

You glanced at your brother. He gave you a sour look, and you realized you'd been smiling down at your phone. 

"Get over it," you ordered. "He isn't going away any time soon." 

"I hate the way he plays."

"You hate the way everyone on that team plays." He grumbled and quieted, realizing that he didn't have a good reply. 

I'll cheer for you next game

You think you could get away with wearing my jersey?

My brother would kill you.

Is that a yes?

Absolutely

Colton has never believed in angels, he never had a reason too, but that all changed when you walked into your shared apartment wearing his jersey. It hangs off your frame in a way that shows just how big Colton is compared to you, something that makes his brain short circuit. Colton can feel his heart start to race and his palms become sweaty, his adrenaline is already high from the team's win earlier in the night. Usually after a win Colton goes out with the guys and celebrates into the night, especially after a win like this, but this night is different. It’s different because he saw you, he saw you wearing his jersey with his name on your back and now all he can think about is you.

The moment you walk through the threshold Colton pounces. Like he literally jumps up from the couch, crosses the room in quick strides and takes your face in his hands and kisses the hell out of you. Your lips lock into a fiery kiss, your teeth keep bumping into one another but that doesn’t slow Colton down. He trails kisses to your jaw, sucking and licking the spot right below your ear. You moan loudly, your knees become weak, and all you can hear, think, smell, taste and feel is Colton. He moves from your jaw to your neck, leaving plenty of lovebites in his wake, he nips and bites which bring his favorite sound out of you; your gasp. He trails his hands down from your face to your hips, pushing you up against the wall and bringing his hips right against yours. You moan in response and grab Colton’s hand to put on your ass which he immediately squeezes.

Colton taps the side of your thigh twice and grunts “jump” into your ear, he catches you with ease and brings his lips back to your mouth. You bite Colton’s lip which brings out a groan that vibrates his body and yours. You release Colton’s lip and instead bring your lips down to his neck and shoulder, you nibble and lick and quite frankly ravish his neck. Colton shifts you in his arms and brings you away from the wall and down the hallway to the bedroom. He kicks the bedroom door shut once he walks the both of you inside and lays you down on the end of the bed. He unwraps your legs from around his back and pushes them wide so he can slip in between them. He sets his hand on your tights-covered knees and trails them up your thighs to your black mini-skirt, which he promptly yanks down once he reaches the waistband. He throws them somewhere behind him and focuses on rolling your tights down your legs, as well as, kissing down your legs.

You lay on your back and watch Colton as he gets to your ankles, pressing a kiss to each of your ankles before holding your foot and delicately pulling off the tights. Once they’re off his eyes flash to you and a big devilish grin takes over his face. He starts trailing kisses back up your leg, lightly nibbling and licking as he goes, and ducks his head under your (his) jersey. His kisses abruptly stop and he slowly brings his head out from under the jersey. He catches your eye and crawls on top of you, lowering himself just enough so you’re chest-to-chest but not enough so it would crush you. “Where are your panties?” You start laughing caught off guard from the question, “I didn’t wear any today,” you say through giggles. Colton smiles and kisses you tenderly before diving back down under your jersey again, time kissing your upper thighs and finally the place you want him most.

His tongue flattens against your core and laps at your juices, he flicks your clit with his tongue before giving it a tiny bite. You feel your high start to take over your body as Colton goes to town on your pussy, kissing, biting, and eating you out like a man starved. You let out a loud moan as your high rushes over you, your cum leaks out of you which Colton happily licks it up. You’re trying to catch your breath as Colt pops his head back out from under the jersey, your juices covering his mouth and chin. He leans back up to kiss you and you can taste yourself in the kiss. You cup Colton’s face in your hands, you drag him back with you as you scoot to the top of the bed. You start kissing down Colton’s jawline and neck, stopping at a few spots to suck and nibble at. Colton fumbles around, trying to get his pants off which you have to help him with, pushing them down his strong, muscular legs. Next you tug on his shirt, urging him to take it off. He throws both items behind him and reclaims your mouth in a fiery, passionate kiss, mumbling ‘I love you’ in between kisses.

You reach to the hem of the jersey ready to pull it off when a hand reaches out to stop you, “Keep the jersey on.” You look into Colton’s lust-filled eyes and begin to put together just how much this is turning him on. You smirk and nod your head before trailing your hand down his abdomen, down his v-line and right to where his thick, aching cock is. You rub him through his boxers causing Colton to shudder in response, “Stop, baby please, I won’t be able to hold it.” You chuckle slightly and whisper ‘good’ in Colton’s ear before lightly biting and sucking on his lobe. You yank Colton’s boxers down and grab ahold of his cock, dragging your hand up and down his length, aligning it with your dripping core. Colton’s breathing quickens as he leans forward to press a kiss to your lips, then nose, then finally a long, sweet kiss to your forehead. “You ready?” You nod in response, pushing your hips closer to his tip but Colton stops you, “I need words baby. Nothing is happening until you tell me with words.” You whimper in response to words, as weakly say “Yes! Please Colt, I need you.” He smiles and gives your forehead one last kiss before lying you down and pushing into you.

Involuntarily, your back arches in response to his lengthy girth filling you up, both of you releasing simultaneous moans. The sound of slapping skin fills the room along with grunts and groans. Colton’s hips snap back and forth, filling you up, leaving you empty, then back to filling you up. He brings his hand down and starts rubbing circles on your clit causing a white-hot rush to overcome you. Colton chuckles, “Already came?” You whimper in response and wrap your legs around Colt’s waist, ankles locking at the small of his back. He reaches over your head and grabs a pillow, shoving it under your hips all while continuing his thrusting causing you to moan. “Yeah? You like that? Does this turn you on? You wearing my jersey with my last name on your back? You’re my pretty girl and when I marry you, I’m gonna fuck the hell outta you.” You start to feel overwhelmed with the different angle Colton is now hitting coupled with his rubbing of your clit. You can feel your third orgasm start to take over, “C-Colton, I-I’m close.” This spurs Colton on, his hips snapping even faster now, “Cum for me baby. Let it go.” You do as he says. Your vision turns white, your body shudders and twitches, and you scream Colton’s name over and over and over again.

Colton’s release comes in response to yours, your pleasure is one of his biggest turn on’s. His seed fills you up as his fast thrusting turns into slower and more gentle thrusts. He stops moving his hips and ever so slowly starts pulling out of you which causes a whimper to leave your mouth. He chuckles at your whining and kisses you as an apology, he gets up and walks to the bathroom grabbing a soft towel and warming it with hot water. He walks back over to the bed, getting on his knees and looking down at you. Your hair is a mess, you have a blissed out look on your face, his jersey is pushed up to just under your boobs, and he can see your mixture of cum seeping out of your red and swollen pussy. He brings the towel to your core and gently cleans you up, pressing little kisses here and there. You hiss when he brushes your clit, “M’sorry baby.” When Colton finishes cleaning you he grabs the glass of water on the bedside table and gives it to you so you can have a sip. Then he grabs two pairs of boxers, one for each of you, and slips a pair on you before dressing himself. He lays back down next to you, bringing the covers up and over the both of you before wrapping you in his arms.

Your brand new apartment is filled with cardboard boxes, boxing tape and the scent of a lit eucalyptus candle. Your life has been a whirlwind ever since Colton got traded to Edmonton. First it was the shock of the trade, then it was telling all you friends and family, then it was packing up your entire life into cardboard boxes. Now, you sit in the middle of your new living room surrounded by half filled boxes that you are currently unpacking. Colton is sitting right next to you trying to put together your bookshelf, key word: trying.

“Fuck.” Colton seethes. You hold back a chuckle as you look over at Colton who is currently sucking on the side of his thumb. “I hit it with the hammer.” He says dejectedly. You can’t hold back your laugh anymore much to Colton’s dismay. He just smiles and shakes his head at your antics, finally feeling a twinge of happiness since the trade. He sets his tools down before he injures himself any further and makes his way over to you, plopping down at your side, wrapping you in a hug and giving you a sweet kiss on the cheek.

“You cold?” Colton questions. “Yeah a little bit. The heat hasn’t kicked in yet.” Colton gives you another kiss on your cheek before getting up and turning on your new fireplace. “Hey what were you thinking of putting on the mantle?” You smile softly and reach over to the box that is full of picture frames. “Well,” you start, “I have a few that I think would look good up there.” You reach into the box and grab a couple of pictures, one of you and Colton, one of you and your friends from back home and lastly, one of Colton and some of the Hawks.

You walk over to Colton with the pictures in you hand and a pep in your step. You hand them over one by one, each picture makes Colton smile fondly, especially the one of the two of you. When he reaches the picture of him and the Hawks his smile dims slightly, that sad feeling overtaking him. You notice the shift and mood in Colton which makes you take his hand in yours and give it a squeeze. A way of saying ‘I’m here for you’. He squeezes your hand back as he sets the picture on the mantle.

“I love you.” You say, giving him that little reminder you think he needs right now. He turns to face you and wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you so that your head rests in the junction between his neck and shoulder. “I love you.” He murmurs into your neck. You pull your head back to look Colton in the eyes, your arms still wrapped around his neck and his wrapped around your upper thigh. “I know that you’re gonna miss Chicago and the Hawks but here’s to new beginnings.” Colton smiles and kisses you deeply, his warm lips make your head spin.