Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/956099.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Original_Work
  Relationship:
      OMC/OMC
  Series:
      Part 5 of throw_up_your_fists,_throw_out_your_wits
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-09-05 Words: 3551
****** my cowardice and your bad timing ******
by youcouldmakealife
Summary
     Nikita’s amusement is always at Luke’s expense.
Notes
     Title is from The Wombats' "Our Perfect Disease".
     Thanks to Clo for repeatedly calling me a monster. Made me know I was
     doing a good job.
See the end of the work for more notes
No matter what else Sidorchuk can fuck up for Luke, he can’t make sucking cock
anything but good. Luke likes this, he’s always liked it, he’s always going to
like it, and Sidorchuk’s the closest thing he has to familiar, the taste on his
tongue, the stretch of his mouth always the same, the impatient handling of him
that Luke allows because he likes it. Back when he was a kid he would have
taken anything to please Sidorchuk, but now he takes his own pleasure, and
nothing more.
But he likes all of this; his knees aching on the hardwood floor, Sidorchuk’s
hand cupped around the back of his head, the taste in his mouth, the way it
will linger, the way he’s going to feel raw and used, which seems about right.
At a certain point it isn’t Luke’s show anymore, Sidorchuk’s fucking his mouth
with short, sharp thrusts, and Luke lets his eyes fall shut and takes that too,
gags on him, which probably only turns both of them on more.
Sidorchuk says something Luke doesn’t hear, then pushes him off his cock, hand
against his forehead. Luke glares up at him, licks over his lips, Sidorchuk’s
eyes following the path.
“Let me fuck you,” Sidorchuk says, obviously not for the first time.
“No fucking way,” Luke says.
Sidorchuk sinks to his knees, mouth pressed against Luke’s jaw, his cheekbone,
temple. Luke doesn’t push him off because, well. He doesn’t know why. He just
doesn’t.
“Please,” Sidorchuk says, directly into Luke’s ear, and Luke shivers. “Let me
fuck you.”
Luke can’t even remember the last time he was fucked. It takes a leap of faith
he isn’t exactly willing to give, and it isn’t something that can comfortably
be done bar bathrooms, he knows, since he’s fucked twinks up against the
stalls, and it’s like a fucking yoga routine.
Luke’s fucked Sidorchuk too, a couple times, like Sidorchuk’s been trying for
penance or something. He doesn’t care, as long as he can have him.
The last guy to get his cock into Luke was Sidorchuk. And isn’t that a sad
fucking thought.
“Fine,” he says, finally. “Fine.”
*
Luke lost his virginity, or whatever remained of it, on his cramped billet bed.
It probably would have been better in a hotel bed, at least there’d be a bit
more room, but his billet parents had to head out of town because one of their
moms was sick, or dying, or something, and there was no hockey on the immediate
horizon, and Luke felt a little bit like a dick that he was excited to have
them gone because of a sick old lady, but it wasn’t enough to keep him from
inviting Nikita over for the night.
Technically he could have done this anyway, no one would think it was that
weird that two guys from the same team were sleeping over at each other’s
houses, but his door didn’t lock, and his billet parents were kind of overly
helpful, so they’d probably be stuck playing video games or something while
eating carrot sticks and then jerking it once Luke was sure the MacArthurs were
asleep. That’s not even as much as they usually get up to after school.
Hell, Luke doesn’t even know if Nikita likes him all that much, outside of the
sex thing. Nikita’s definitely into fucking around with him, there’s no
mistaking whether he wants Luke or not, but for someone Luke spends a hell of a
lot of time with, he’s sort of absent, in his own head a lot, and Luke can’t
figure him out. When there isn’t anyone else around, they’re all over each
other, and when there are other people, Nikita does his own thing in proximity
to Luke. Luke doesn’t know if he’d even want to play video games, or just hang
out, though he keeps himself from asking all the time, wants to so badly,
because he wants Nikita around all of the time.
But Luke had mentioned his place being empty, and Nikita’s eyes had gone sharp,
interested, and that evening he shows up at Luke’s door with a backpack like
it’s a study sleepover or something, whatever he probably claimed, but for all
Luke knows it’s just hundreds of condoms and some economy lube.
Turns out it’s a strip of condoms and a snap-top bottle, along with a change of
clothes, because Nikita is smarter than Luke is about those kinds of things. He
doesn’t find that out right away, though, first ends up getting off against the
wall in his hallway, back pressed to it, leg hooked around the back of Nikita’s
calf while Nikita jerks him off inside his sweats, and then when he’s come
lazy, pliant, he lets Nikita shove him down to his knees, fuck his mouth, choke
him on his cock.
They microwave mini pizzas, eat them at the table, and Luke feels almost shy
sitting across the table from Nikita, come drying tacky inside his boxers,
Nikita unaffected as always, but he knows what’s going to happen, he’s pretty
sure he knows, Nikita wanted time to do it right and they have all night with
no hockey or chaperones or anything, and Luke keeps glancing at the bag,
glancing at Nikita’s face, a little red because he can’t stop thinking about
it, is half hard in his sweats just eating a fucking mini pizza because he
wants Nikita’s cock in him and he thinks he’s going to get it.
He doesn’t think he eats any faster than usual, but he still has to stare down
Nikita while he eats his food in the slowest fucking manner possible, mentally
willing him to go faster, because the more Luke waits, the more nervous he
gets, right now, and he doesn’t want to chicken out. Doesn’t think Nikita would
actually call him on it, but he’d hate himself for it, begging for weeks and
then changing his mind at the last second.
Finally, finally Nikita finishes, and it’s all Luke can do not to grab him by
the wrist and drag him upstairs, and Nikita clearly can tell, because he looks
amused. Nikita’s amusement is always at Luke’s expense.
Nikita’s brought the bag, which is good, because Luke forgot it, and Luke looks
at him, and then the bag, stalled for a second, before he just tugs his shirt
off, because whatever, he’s not embarrassed about his body, he has no reason to
be embarrassed about his body, and that tends to speed things up a bit.
It works, since by the time he’s got his shirt off, Nikita’s stripping too, so
Luke just gets on with it, until he’s down to his boxers, shivering a little
even though the house is heated. He hesitates on them, until Nikita raises an
eyebrow at him like a dare, and then he drops those too, goes to sit on his
bed, scratching at where some come has dried, tacky, on his hip.
“Did you--” Luke starts, but Nikita’s already going through the backpack,
coming out with a bottle of lube and a strip of condoms. Luke is never going to
be able to look at it sitting under Nikita’s desk again, will be getting
distracted in English by not only Nikita, but also Nikita’s bag. Like Luke
really needed more to be distracted by.
Luke doesn’t know what to ask, then, like, is he supposed to say ‘how do you
want me’ or some shit? He’s watched a ton of porn, but he hasn’t exactly been
in this position before. Nikita goes to sit beside him, and Luke swallows,
thinks of the one thing that does usually happen, and leans in to kiss him, but
Nikita’s already moving, mouth against the rabbit fast beat of Luke’s pulse,
his tongue a hot line against Luke’s throat.
Luke focuses on that, and on reminding Nikita that he better not leave another
fucking hickey, because the guys have literally just stopped asking him if he
has some secret girl, because clearly she really likes him. Nikita hums against
his skin and gets a hand around Luke’s cock, wet with lube, which Luke didn’t
even notice him opening, but could not be more grateful for, because Nikita’s
hand is slick and fast on his skin instead of the tight, almost painful drag
he’s learned he likes a little masochistically.
“Stop,” Luke says, “I’m gonna--Nikita, c’mon.”
“Go ahead,” Nikita says, a little muffled, then licks a line up Luke’s throat.
“I like it when you are sensitive.”
Oversensitive, really, when every fucking move sends sparks through him and he
isn’t sure if he enjoys it or it hurts, but it’s not like he can stop himself,
Nikita’s hand not slowing down at all, and when he nips at the bob of Luke’s
adam’s apple, Luke can’t help but come in his hand.
Nikita wipes his hands off on Luke’s sheets, and Luke half-heartedly scowls at
him because that means he’s going to have to do laundry before the MacArthurs
get back.
“Need break?” Nikita asks. He sounds all concerned and nice about it, but he
probably knows there’s no way Luke’s going to actually take him up on it.
“Bring it,” Luke says, and Nikita laughs.
“Spread your legs,” he says, low, and Luke does, gets that mix of shame and
pleasure he always does when he’s spreading his thighs the second Nikita asks,
that feeling growing when Nikita slides down the bed, gets on his belly between
Luke’s thighs.
Luke instinctively tries to close his thighs, cheeks heating, but Nikita holds
them open, leans in, mouth brushing Luke’s balls, and Luke isn’t going to do
anything to stop that, too sensitive or not, so he relaxes.
He can hear the bottle, and he takes a breath. It’s not like they haven’t done
this before, Nikita gets his fingers in him all the time, whenever they have
time for more than a quickie before the MacArthurs come home from work, Nikita
ends up fingering Luke, Luke pushing back against him, trying to take more.
Luke didn’t know he could like anything as much as getting fingered, can’t
believe that there’s something actually better than getting his cock sucked.
And Nikita’s good with his fingers, has managed to figure out exactly how to
get Luke off fast, or tease him until he can’t take it, knows how to make him
beg.
So he doesn’t know what’s different about this time, except that instead of
just begging to get fucked, he’s going to actually get fucked, and he’s been
building it up in his head. Also Nikita’s cock is really big, there’s no
denying that one. But Luke’s a fucking hockey player, he’s taken a little pain
before, and for less fun reasons than finally getting fucked.
The first finger’s easy, though Luke feels it more, everything so sharp when
he’s still coming down from his last orgasm. The second’s almost too much, and
Luke has to restrain himself from reaching down and grabbing Nikita’s wrist, so
it’s good that he stays at two for awhile, until it’s less along the sharp line
between pleasure and pain, and more the warm stretch Luke’s used to. It’s when
Luke finally starts pushing back against his touch that he adds the third,
presses a biting kiss to the inside of Luke’s thigh while Luke adjusts, watches
himself stretching Luke open, and Luke always wonders how interesting it could
actually be, but he can barely look at Nikita sometimes because it’ll make him
go off too soon, is completely mesmerized by his hands, the dusting of hair on
his chest, his nipples when they go tight and almost too sensitive to touch. If
Luke is even half as interesting to Nikita as Nikita is to him, and he doubts
that, he gets why Nikita watches him like that. Luke would do it more if he was
brave enough.
“Niki,” Luke manages, “c’mon.”
Nikita looks up. “No one has ever called me that,” he says.
Luke goes pink. Pinker. Something. It’s weird to suddenly be embarrassed when
someone has three fingers in your ass. And over a freaking nickname. “Is it
okay?” he asks, finally.
Nikita pulls out his fingers, slow, and the only reason Luke isn’t begging for
them back is because he knows something else is coming. That or ‘Niki’ is some
super rude thing in Russian and Nikita’s about to walk out on him. But he hopes
it’s the first.
“Sure,” he says, offhand, and Luke exhales, relaxes until he hears the foil
wrapper, the snap top again, and closes his eyes. “If you not want,” Nikita
says, sounding kind of hesitant for the first time.
“I do,” Luke says. “Just, slow?”
He sounds like a fucking blushing virgin. He sort of is, but this is fucking
pathetic.
“Slow,” Nikita agrees, seriously, and then he’s nudging up against Luke’s hole,
blunt hardness, and Luke shuts his eyes again as Nikita inches into him, feels
like he’s burning up from the inside out, he’s so full, and it hurts but it’s
amazing, like getting fingered but more overwhelming, and it’s Nikita in him,
which means something. Luke doesn’t know what it means, exactly, but it’s
definitely something.
Nikita doesn’t move once he’s in him completely, waits for him to adjust, seems
like he’d be fine continuing to wait, so Luke hitches his calves up around
Nikita’s waist, says, “Okay,” maybe a little bit before he’s actually ready,
but he doesn’t want Nikita thinking he’s a wimp about it, and he kind of likes
it when it hurts, as long as it feels good too.
Nikita starts slow, like Luke asked for, but when he drags up against Luke’s
prostate he doesn’t want slow anymore, just wants to feel him, wants to feel
him for days, skate onto the ice and feel him, sit in English and feel him,
watch the girls relentlessly flirt with him and know what they don’t, that
Nikita had spread him out on his mattress and fucked him until he begged. And
he does, asks for harder and faster, and then, when Nikita won’t oblige, he
fucking begs, getting hard again, breath hitching whenever Nikita rubs up
against the spot in him.
Nikita doesn’t slap Luke’s hand away from his cock when he gets a hand on it,
maybe because he has to use both arms to brace himself on either side of Luke,
chest gone slick with sweat as his hips steadily work to take Luke apart. Luke
jerks himself off at the same pace, and when the rhythm starts to falter, goes
uneven, Luke speeds up, because he knows that means Nikita’s going to come in
him. For a second he stupidly wishes that there was no condom, that he was
about to come hot inside Luke, that Luke would be able to feel it. He still
knows when Nikita’s coming inside him, he goes still, lip between his teeth,
and Luke can’t feel it, exactly, but just the thought, Nikita being in him,
Nikita coming in him, makes it easy to stripe his belly with come, recover,
breathless, under Nikita, who pulls out after a minute, groaning and nudging
Luke over so he can lie down.
There isn’t really room for the both of them, it’s a single and they’re not
exactly small guys, but Luke doesn’t mind having every part of his body pressed
against or overlapping a part of Nikita’s. He turns onto his side, rests his
head on Nikita’s shoulder, lips brushing his skin, and Nikita pats him on the
head a couple times.
They sleep, and when they wake up, they do it all over again.
*
Luke needs to be firmer about not letting Sidorchuk in his bedroom. He didn’t
even have the excuse of getting fucked, last time, but this time he’s
rationalizing it by the fact there’s no lube in the living room and his knees
aren’t really interested in rugburn, or any extended time on hardwood.
Since that seemed fine to him when it involved sucking Sidorchuk’s cock, even
he knows that’s a bullshit excuse. At least it’s better than the motel beds,
which remind him of their roadtrip explorations every time.
Luke grabs lube and a condom from his bedside table, though he has to check the
expiry date first, because he doesn’t bring guys home. The condoms are fine,
the lube half empty, and Sidorchuk’s face goes a little tight when he sees it,
something Luke takes pleasure in and isn’t about to ruin by mentioning that he
has a habit of fingering himself, and jerks off lubed up anyway. Not like
Sidorchuk gave a shit when he was jerking Luke off on a regular basis.
Once he’s handed them off, Luke strips off his shirt, boxers, gets onto the
bed, hands and knees, doesn’t bother to watch Sidorchuk strip. Less he sees of
him the better, the best thing to do is treat this like an anonymous thing and
know, however much of a bastard as Sidorchuk is, this isn’t going to haunt him
in the morning except in the way that Sidorchuk always haunts him in the
morning.
“Turn on your back?” Sidorchuk says.
“Nope,” Luke says, and Sidorchuk sighs but doesn’t ask again, palm rubbing
Luke’s flank like he’s a fucking skittish horse that needs calming, before two
slick fingers breach him. And Luke wasn’t ready for that, doesn’t finger
himself enough, doesn’t get fucked, but he’s not going to let that fucker know,
so he just exhales, watches his hands, fisted in the comforter already. He
doesn’t even know how he’s supposed to wash this thing if he comes on it.
Luke’s just adjusting to the fingers, finally, the stretch starting to burn
pleasantly like he always loved, like a muscle pushed hard, when Sidorchuk
presses a kiss against the small of his back and Luke tenses up, the stretch
painful all over again.
“I’m not your fucking girlfriend, you don’t have to get me in the mood,” Luke
says, strained. “Just fuck me and then get out of my house.”
Sidorchuk mutters something in Russian that is no doubt uncomplimentary, but he
pushes a third finger in fast enough, and slides his fingers out completely
before Luke has adjusted properly. Good. It’s going to hurt, which is going to
remind Luke of what a fucking idiot he was to agree to this.
Soon enough Sidorchuk’s nudged against him. This bit always hurt a little at
first, it didn’t matter how much Nikita stretched him first, and sometimes that
part lasted forever, something about it just fucking fascinated Nikita, he
could finger Luke for hours, make him come all over himself over and over until
he was a sobbing mess, and then finally fuck him. It’s humiliating in
hindsight, but at the time Luke had fucking loved it.
“Do it,” Luke says between gritted teeth, and the first push in him is a sharp,
burning stretch. Luke always wanted Nikita to break him open, tear him apart,
and that hits a little too close to home. He’s good at that. He’s always been
good at that. That was another thing Luke wanted from him that he shouldn’t
have.
Sidorchuk doesn’t move at first, apparently something in him still good enough
to stall, but Luke doesn’t want that, not from him, so he urges him along,
sharp tongued, until Sidorchuk finally moves, the drag painful, Sidorchuk too
big, too much, but Luke closes his eyes and takes it until it finally gets
good, until it hits that edge of pain and pleasure that he loves, and he shifts
back against it, doesn’t care if Sidorchuk thinks he’s being slutty, let him
think that, let him think Luke’s a slut for everyone, not just him. It’s close
enough to the truth, even if no one else has ever been inside.
Luke shouldn’t be hard, but he is, like the pain was part of the point, and he
gets down on one elbow so he can get his hand around his cock, almost wants
Sidorchuk to try to slap his hand away so that Luke has an excuse to break his
fucking nose. He doesn’t, though, and Luke comes first, with Sidorchuk still
inside him, should make him pull out, Luke still unsure to this day whether he
likes it or not, and today isn’t any different, Luke wincing because
everything’s too much, too soon, but Sidorchuk finishes quickly, pulls out and
discards the condom before he lies down beside Luke. Luke waits until his
breathing slows to almost normal, because he’s going to let the man catch his
breath at least, he’s not a fucking monster.
Sidorchuk’s shifted close, too close, his body heat warming Luke from the
inside out, when he finally starts to breathe normally. “Okay,” Luke says. “Get
out.”
Sidorchuk rolls over to look at him.
“You got what you wanted,” Luke says, enunciates every fucking word. “Now get
out.”
Sidorchuk gets up, and Luke closes his eyes, listens to the sound of him
buckling his belt, the pad of footsteps towards his front door, and he waits
until he’s positive Sidorchuk’s gone before he gets up to lock the door behind
him.
End Notes
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