Page 52 of Bro Code

“Yes. Come on, Louis.” He thrust faster, veins standing out on his neck as he watched Louis frantically stroking himself. “Come all over yourself for me like a needy little slut.”

Louis gasped. He came so hard he shouted, and his whole body seized as his cock jerked and spasmed, sending ropes of come all over his chest, face, the sheets, everywhere. He heard Riley bark as he thrust hard again, pulsing inside him. Riley kept going, fucking them both all the way through it, until Louis’ legs gave out and his feet slipped off the headboard.

Riley tumbled forward and sideways over him, making a surprised noise as his dick popped out. They ended up in a mangled pile with Louis’ legs sandwiched to his chest and Riley half tangled in them, and didn’t move for a long time. Louis finally had to whack Riley on the ass, because he was afraid his ribs were going to snap. Riley crawled off him and flopped onto his back.

“Was that okay?” he said to the ceiling.

Louis nodded and croaked, “Oui.”

He wanted to tell him it was so much more than okay. That it was honestly some of the best sex he’d ever had, and he wasn’t sure what that meant. That he was…proud of Riley for winning the face-off tonight, and he wasn’t sure what that meant, either. That he loved watching him fuck almost as much as he loved watching him skate, and if he got to do both of those things for the rest of his life, he probably wouldn’t be mad about it.

They got up and cleaned up, and Louis got in the shower. To his surprise, as he stepped in, Riley came in right behind him.

It was hours before Riley left, and when he finally did, Louis didn’t want him to go.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Riley

The Kings game was the last day of the West Coast tour, but they had one more stop to make in North Carolina before they went back to Montreal.

Riley felt exhausted, but good. Louis’ idea for the face-off had worked, and he’d used the chanting thing too. Track track track, on every stride. He wasn’t sure why it worked, but he wasn’t worried about that. It worked. That was all he was worried about.

Well, that, and Louis.

Louis hadn’t said anything about his mom since that day he’d followed Riley into the locker room. Riley wasn’t sure if that meant everything was fine or not. He kept looking for opportunities to bring it up, but he wasn’t even sure he should ask about it. Louis was probably stressed enough about sneaking around behind Holly’s back, without having to be reminded of what was going on back home.

So he just kept an eye on him. Was he drinking enough water? Had he eaten? These were things Riley could watch without tipping Louis off that he was keeping tabs on him. He secretly refilled his water bottle and always brought snacks for both of them when they met up.

He scheduled a solo skate at the North Carolina arena the afternoon before the game, and when he arrived Louis was already there. Louis looked up as he heard the door, and as their eyes met, a small, secret spark jumped between them. Heat shot up the back of Riley’s neck, and Louis smiled and looked away.

Ten minutes later, Riley was on the ice warming up. Louis came to the dashers with his tablet, and set it on top of the gate. Riley circled and came to the wall.

“I want to try something.” Louis turned the tablet so Riley could see. Pointless, because Riley couldn’t understand any of it, but he leaned in anyway.

“You’re flinching sometimes when a player comes up behind you,” said Louis. “Which may be why your passes aren’t always connecting.” He pointed at some Klingon on the screen, and Riley nodded in a way that he hoped said, Ah, yes, I see. “I think we need to simulate the conditions somehow,” said Louis. “Force you to ignore what’s in your peripherals.”

“Okay. How are we gonna do that?”

“The only way I can think of is to throw stuff at you.”

Riley laughed. “Uh huh.”

“Is that weird?”

“Actually, no. They do it for guys who are coming back after concussions and stuff.” He hiked his thumb at the equipment closet. “I bet there’s a bucket of tennis balls in there.”

They dug out some tennis balls, along with some foam footballs (which Louis insisted on calling American footballs) and a couple of soccer balls (which were just footballs). They piled it all on the bench, and then Louis stood looking at them with his hands on his hips, chewing his lip.

Riley flipped up his visor and leveled his gaze. “You realize you have to be on the ice for this.”

“What?” Louis’ head whipped around.

“You’re not gonna be able to do anything from back here.”

“That’s not true, I can stand behind the dashers–”

Riley shook his head. “I don’t think that’s gonna work. Have you ever skated before?” Louis’ face had gone slightly ashen. He looked past Riley at the ice and shook his head. Grinning, Riley flipped down his visor. “Well, mon ami, there’s a first time for everything.”