Rating: NC-17
Original Date of Completion: September 2004
Pairing: Andrew Ference/Kris Beech
Disclaimer: I own nothing, unfortunately. This is all fiction, conjured in the confines of my demented little mind (several times, in fact). That means this is FAKE, and you can't sue.
Notes: I figure this takes place sometime in 2002, when both players were still part of the Pittsburgh Penguins organization.
*************
Andy's POV
I hate shopping. There is nothing longer, or more boring on Earth. Not a triple overtime game, not three consecutive history tests, not even the neutral zone trap. Shopping is by far the longest, most boring, worst activity ever. And that's just shopping by yourself. When you do it with others, most specifically significant others, it gets even worse. I’m talking like a New Jersey vs. Minnesota Stanley Cup Final, with Celine Dion singing in the background is a joy in comparison. If I didn't have a game tonight, I'd kill myself, because I'm suffering through that right now. I think I'd rather have Celine, at least with her I'll only leave with bleeding eardrums. With this shopping, I'm not sure I'm ever going to leave. I may die here, in this chair, waiting for my boyfriend to decide on a simple pair of slacks. But I guess this is what I get for dating someone so pretty. Why, why didn't I just date Aubin when he asked?
Oh, right, the ugly. I can't decide right now if that would be worse than this, though. Death by shopping is not the way I want to go. I always figured on some big loud kind of death, doing something reckless I shouldn't be doing like rock diving, or surfing. Instead, it looks like I'm going to go slow and quiet, sitting next to a bin of marked down bikini briefs. Hmm, those are kind of nice, I wonder what Kris would look like in them...
...Dear God, I MUST get out of this store.
"Kris," I shouted in the direction of the changing room. "What's the hold up?"
He sighed in annoyance. "Just a second, I'm trying on one more pair."
I sighed, slumping back in my chair and bouncing my head off the edge. I'd heard that at least five times today, every time after I asked what was taking so long; if I didn’t know better I'd think he was a robot only programmed to try on pants and say that same thing over and over. Were that the case, I'd just find his switch and turn him off and be on my merry way. Unfortunately, things aren't that simple, I only know how to turn Kris ON. So it looks like I sit here and slowly die, because he can't decide on one. fucking. pair. of. pants. I'm so getting back at him for this, if I survive. Hell-o Wrestlemania.
The creak of the changing room door snapped my head up, and expectantly I turned toward the sound. He stepped out slowly, glancing at himself in the mirror, then at me. I smiled as best I could, hoping against hope that would convince him they were fine, but alas I quickly failed. He frowned, turning back to the mirror, while I could do nothing more but sigh in frustration.
"What's wrong with these?" I asked, standing up and walking over to him.
"I don't like the way they make my ass look," He replied, turning around and staring at his ass in the mirror.
I rolled my eyes and patted him on the ass. He squeaked softly, blushing faintly as he batted my hand away. I grinned, glancing around us before I kissed him on the cheek. "I think they make your ass look nice,"
He rolled his eyes, stepping away from me and walking back to the changing room. "You're just saying that so we can get out of here quicker,"
I frowned as I watched him step back into the changing room and close the door before I had a chance of rebuttal. He was right, of course, but I had planned to lie my ass off until we got to leave. He didn’t even give me a chance, though, the bastard, he read me like a book. That (ignoring current circumstance) was the only bad thing about being in a long term relationship; they always knew when you were lying. But for the sake of my sanity this time, I really needed to.
We'd been here for God knows how long, waiting for him to buy a simple pair of slacks for a dinner party we had IN A WEEK. Ten different pairs, and all of them had something wrong with them. Did he have some kind of ass deformity that I just never noticed? I mean granted, I didn't look there terribly often, my attentions were focused elsewhere most times, but I think I'd remember something like that. I think the more likely scenario was he just wanted to kill me, and I wasn't far from that. But dammit all, I refused to die The Gap. I had to get out of here, even if it called for drastic measures.
"Kris?" I sighed, tapping on the door. "I think we'd better get a move on, before they arrest me for loitering,"
"I'm not leaving until I find something that doesn't make my ass look so weird," He snapped back in obvious annoyance.
I heard zippers being undone and quiet cursing from inside the dressing room, and I shook my head with a light snicker. I knew now what I had to do, there only one thing I COULD do in this situation. I had to convince him there was nothing wrong with his ass, or on my epitaph it was going to say "Andrew Ference: Fell into The Gap". That would be just fine for some guys, but not for me, I had friends that were going to kick my ass for even being in this store. I had to show him his ass was fine, and there was only one surefire way I knew how to do that. Fortunately for me, we were alone back here.
"Let me in," I said, pulling on the door handle.
He sighed. "Why?"
"Because I'm going to help you. I can always sneak underneath the door if you don't open it,"
I heard him sigh again, but the door opened quickly. I stepped inside the cramped box, and grinned when I saw him. He stood before me in just his boxers, slacks of various colors draped around the room, and forming a mountain on the bench. That threw a wrench into my initial plans, but I was always quick to improvise. Stepping forward, I slipped my arms around his waist, and pushed him softly against the side wall. He gasped quietly, his eyes widening, but still with a faint twinkle in them. I smirked, laughing quietly, and brought my lips to his ear. I licked slowly along the outline, nipping at the lobe, and he shuddered against me. His arms slipped then around my neck, and I grinned against his neck.
"I think I've figured out what the problem is," I whispered into his ear.
"What's that?" He whimpered softly as I nibbled down his neck, squeezing a hand at my shoulder.
I pulled free from his touch, my hands still at his waist, and flashed a wicked grin. "It's not the pants," I said with a shrug, tucking my fingers past the waist of his boxers. "It's these."
His eyes widened at the words, but before he could object, I shoved the boxers from his hips. He gasped my name, his hips arching forward and pressing against me. I grinned wickedly at that display, slipping a hand down to wrap around him. He moaned softly as my fingers curled around him, laying his head back against the wall. I stroked my fingers slowly, loosely along the length of him, eliciting soft moans from him with each movement. This had absolutely nothing to do with my plans, but I couldn't help myself for a couple of reasons. One, he was too much of a tightass (in the not good way) to be completely accepting of my plans without a little loosening up first. And two, he had too nice of a cock to keep my hands off of when in its presence.
Sharing a locker room with the guy was Hell sometimes, believe me. Lucky for me, though, he was never one to object. Most of the time it was HIM who wound up wanting (read: begging for) more. Unfortunately though, I didn't have time to wait for that today, we were in a public changing room after all. And while I get off on the thrill of public sex as much as the next guy, it's probably not the smartest thing to do in The Gap. It's much more suited for like, Wal-Mart.
"Andy," He whimpered, clutching a hand at my shoulder, digging his nails in slightly. "Can't do this here..."
He trailed off as my hand squeezed around him, his eyelids fluttering shut. I grinned again, keeping my firm hold on him, and leaning in to kiss him deeply. He moaned against my lips, returning both arms around my neck and pulling me to him to further the kiss. I resumed my earlier stroking momentarily, letting our kisses dictate the pace before stilling my hand at the head. He thrust his hips forward, attempting to stroke himself, but only succeeding in increasing my grip around him. It was that which broke the kiss, and groaning his head fell back against the wall, while I just snickered.
"Oh no, we're going to do this here," I whispered throatily, almost growling. "I'm going to SHOW you your ass is fine, so maybe we can get out of here this century. Turn around."
He hesitated momentarily, running his teeth over his bottom lip, but a tight squeeze from my hand sent him into motion. He grabbed my wrist, keeping my hand on him as he turned away from me, then used that grip to pull me to him. I obliged, grinding my hips against him. He moaned softly in response, wiggling his hips back against me and slipping a hand back into my hair. I buried my face in his neck, sucking and biting at the skin as I dug into my pocket and pulled from it a small tube of lube. We were far beyond the point in our relationship where condoms were needed, so I carried this instead. Sure he was a tightass, but he was easily convincible, so I carried it with me just in case of a moment like this. I was pretty damn glad right now that I had.
Working quickly, I unbuttoned and unzipped my pants, easing them and boxers down just past my cock. Kris grew impatient, pushing his hips back against me and tugging at my hair. I growled softly, biting at his neck as I poured the lube into my hand and stroked it hurriedly over myself. Once properly coated, I nudged up against his opening, slipping my hands to his and pressing them against the wall.
"Brace yourself, Pet," I growled softly against his ear, pressing hesitantly forward. "Can't take long to show you."
He simply nodded in reply, moving his hands up to grip the top of the wall. My hands slipped then to his waist, squeezing his hips gently as I pushed slowly into him. He whimpered softly, pushing back against me, his grip tightening on the wall. I sucked softly at his neck, pulling him back against me as I pushed steadily forward. I quickly reached the hilt, biting down on his neck to stifle my moans. He whimpered again, clenching lightly around me and wiggling his hips just slightly. I bit back a moan from that, digging my nails into his hips to keep from thrusting, wanting to give him time to adjust. That proved unnecessary, however, as only seconds passed before he was moaning for me to continue.
I was quick to oblige, wiggling out to the head, then thrusting deeply back. He moaned softly, his back arching, and he clenched tight around me. With a growl, I pulled out again, thrusting harder back against the vice around me. His moans deepened, and he clenched tighter, holding the grip as he wiggled back against me. I muffled my own moan against his neck as I settled into a fast, hard rhythm. Slipping a hand up to his mouth to silence him, I wrapped my other around his cock, stroking swiftly against our rhythm. He moaned boisterously from the feelings, the vibrations thundering around me, and he slipped into rhythm with me; he clenched tight with each thrust I made, and moved his hips in time with mine.
I was lost easily in the pleasure, reveling in the sensations shooting through my body, loving just as much knowing he felt the same. It was an all too brief pleasure, though, as orgasm quickly crept up on his both. My thrusts became harder, more erratic, his hips bucking back against me, my strokes slowing to match. That was a pleasure I couldn't endure long, and I lost it first, squeezing him hard as I shot deep inside him. He yelped from my grip around him, but came nonetheless, biting down on my hand as orgasm overtook him.
Spent, gasping for breath, I leaned into him, wrapping both around his waist. He wiggled back against me, moaning contentedly, and laying his head back on my shoulder.
"Believe your ass is fine now?" I asked, nipping at his earlobe.
He nodded, shivering slightly. "You're pretty convincing,"
I snickered softly, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "Think I can convince you to let us get the hell out of this store now?"
"No," He giggled softly, shaking his head. "YOU still need pants..."
He trailed off, craning back and flashing a grin as he clenched tight around me. I moaned deeply, burying my face against his neck, and tightened my arms around his waist.
"Wal-Mart here we come."
END.
© 2004 Triple X
