Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Rick Nash/Nikolai Zherdev
Original Date of Completion: July 2004
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I own no one, but if you do, I'd like to place a bid. This is all fake, conjured in the confines of my demented little mind. That means fiction, and that you can't sue me.
Notes: This takes place in April, sometime before Easter. Rusty=Rusty (Rostislav) Klesla, Pascal=Pascal Leclaire, Syracuse Crunch/Columbus Blue Jackets goalie, Astro=Astroglide personal lubricant
**************
"They're crooked," Pascal informed, tilting his head to the side as he looked over the sight before them.
Rusty took a few steps back, surveying the sight in front of them with an appraising eye. It didn't take much to see that 'they' were indeed crooked, but that was of little consequence. In fact, to Rusty, that made the sight all the better. What he saw before him was something he had never really expected to see, but now that he had, it exceeded any expectations. He and Pascal had toiled for many long minutes to bring it to fruition, and now that their efforts had paid off, Rusty couldn't hide his satisfaction. Because the sight before them was one neither man would ever forget; Rick Nash, the leading goal scorer of the NHL, wearing only pink rabbit ears on his head, with an Easter basket hanging from his neck.
"That's even better," Rusty said with a grin. "He's twice as gorgeous now, don't you think?"
Pascal roared in laughter, nodding his head. "Oh yes, gorgeous. Si beau."
Rick glared at the two of them. "I hate you both so much."
That sent both men into laughter, Pascal collapsing onto the bed in giggles as Rusty reached to the dresser for his camera. Rick grumbled at their mocking, flipping them a quick finger and turning his head. He had known from the beginning the treatment he'd receive this day, but there was no way to avoid it. It was a Blue Jacket tradition, a delayed rite of passage from rookie to sophomore. He had thought early in the season that he'd avoid the humiliation suffered by those before him, with their 2003 first round pick remaining in Russia. But in December, Nikolai Zherdev had come to Columbus, and once legal issues had been resolved and his stay was assured, Rick had quickly realized that the Easter tradition stayed with it. He would have to suffer the same torture Pascal had felt the year before, under the gleefully evil direction of Rusty Klesla, with whom the tradition had started. That's what led him to his current position, sitting in Rusty's bedroom in appallingly pink rabbit ears, with a basket of much more than candy hanging from his neck waiting to be delivered to Zherdev.
"Oh cheer up," Rusty spoke through his laughter, his accent thickening as he tried to compose himself. "The bunny always gets the first thank you,"
Rick grinned despite his humiliating state, his mind traveling back to the last year, when the Astro Bunny had visited his door. He had known nothing of the tradition before that day; with Leclaire remaining in the minors and Klesla tightlipped about his escapades. Rick had been completely surprised when he'd opened his door to find the two of them standing there, Leclaire in the same garb that Rick now wore, with Klesla grinning maniacally behind him, holding a paintball gun to the goalie's back. Leclaire had blushed bright enough to match the ears, mumbling in French as he handed the basket off to Rick and explained the tradition, adding in perfect English at the end "Rusty is a sick fuck." Klesla had laughed, grinned, and agreed before pushing them into the house, guarding the door with the gun and demanding they 'get to work.' Rick, who'd been in a daze throughout all the proceedings to that point had come to life then, grinning as he grabbed Leclaire by the ears and dragged him back to the bedroom, where Klesla followed with a camcorder and documented as a tradition was continued.
That was the same general plan they expected to follow tonight, though none of them knew exactly how Zherdev would react. The language barrier had kept all of them from learning much of their Russian teammate, most of all Leclaire who still struggled with his own barrier. But none of them expected much resistance; two paintball guns and a naked Rick Nash carrying a basket of lube, condoms and assorted sexual paraphernalia could be mighty convincing. The choice remained Zherdev's in the end, of course, but in the three previous years, the tradition had yet to be broken. And all three men knew Zherdev was not the type of teammate that would let a tradition die.
"If I DON'T," Rick spoke as he stood. "I am hurting you both to the best of my ability,"
The other men gasped in mocking, Rusty rolling his eyes as he stepped across the room, and Pascal clutching his chest in fake pain.
"Even me, Rick?" Leclaire asked, feining innocence, even batting his eyelashes for added effect. "We both know this all started with RUSTY,"
Across the room, Klesla grinned maniacally, tossing a tan colored trenchcoat over to Rick, snickering at the glare he recieved for it. He smirked at the forward as he walked back across the room, and clapped a giggling Pascal on the shoulder.
"You don't need to worry anyway, Pascal. All he'd do is pound on your back until you fell down, it wouldn't hurt,"
Pascal collapsed again to the bed, lost in a fit of giggles, while Nash glared continually at Klesla, grumbling as he slipped the trenchcoat on.
"I hate you so, SO much,"
Klesla grinned, snapping another picture before slipping the camera into his pocket. He stepped over to where Rick stood, patting the younger man playfully on the cheek, and laughed as Rick growled in objection. "You won't when this is over. Trust me,"
* * *
"Have I told you today how much I hate you?" Rick grumbled as he stepped from the car.
"Only 300 times, you big baby," Pascal laughed, shoving him playfully toward the sidewalk. "I did it last year, and didn't whine as bad as you are,"
Rusty snickered as he walked to the back of his car, quickly popping open the trunk. "No, but you blushed like a little girl getting her first kiss,"
Pascal shot him a glare, and Rick roared in laughter, appreciative that the mocking was for once that day off of him. It didn't last long however, Rusty returning things to normal when he pulled two paintball guns from his trunk. Rick's laughter ceased instantly, Pascal's glare morphing quickly to a sinister smile, and Klesla himself, just as he had for most of that day, simply grinned. He tossed the second gun to Leclaire, then dug back into his trunk, this time pulling from it a camcorder. Now armed with all the weapons they needed, he slammed the trunk shut, setting the camera down onto the closed lid. He nodded at Leclaire, and simultaneously both men cocked their guns. Rick gulped at the display.
"Alright Astro Bunny," Rusty snickered, grabbing up the camcorder. "Time to glide on down the bunny trail."
Rick sighed in defeat, hanging his head as he walked toward Zherdev's apartment. Behind him, Klesla and Leclaire snickered, guns pointed squarely at his back as they followed. Were they not his wardens, leading him down the Glide Mile, he could almost feel sorry for them. They'd both suffered the same humiliation in years prior, and that was something he wouldn't wish even on them. He did however understand the importance of tradition, so despite his objections he would do all in his power to keep the tradition alive. And he'd do it knowing that next year, he'd be the one with the gun while Zherdev took his turn as the Astro Bunny.
That was enough to get him through this experience on its own, but there was more than that going through his head as he walked the steps up to Zherdev's apartment; the memories he had of his visit from the Astro Bunny last year, and the memories he had snuck of Zherdev in the locker room. Together, those things were enough to make the humiliation worth it. Or at least he hoped. The final answer, of course, still depended on Zherdev.
"This is going to traumatize him beyond repair," Rick grumbled, shucking off the trench coat. "He's going to run screaming all the way back to Russia, and it will be all your fault,"
He tossed the coat back at them as their laughter started, fidgeting a bit and trying to cover himself with his hand. That was met with disapproving jeers from his companions, Leclaire even reaching forward to nudge his hand away with the tip of his paintball gun. Rick squeaked at the contact, jumping back from it and into Klesla. Rusty snickered slipping his gun arm around Rick's waist and pulling him back so their bodies were flush. Rick glanced back at the older man in question, not struggling to get free until he saw Rusty's other hand lift above him, a ball of pink cotton held in its grasp.
"No fucking way," He growled through gritted teeth, still struggling against Rusty's hold. "You are not gluing ANYTHING to my ass,"
"Relax, it's tape," Rusty snickered, nodding at Leclaire as he tightened his hold on Rick's waist.
Pascal nodded in response, giggling and moving quickly in front of Nash. With an evil grin, he aimed his gun, straight at Rick's cock, resting a finger on the trigger. Rick's eyes widened in horror, his struggling stopping in an instant. He glanced apprehensively between the two men, first at Leclaire then back at Klesla before whimpering softly in defeat. He slumped back against Klesla with a sigh, and shook his head as their laughter again sounded.
"Good boy," Rusty said through his laughter, running his hand over Rick's back. "You wouldn't be much of a bunny without a tail."
With that he pressed the cotton to Rick's skin, centered right below his waistline, and slid a finger over the tape to secure it. Once secured, he released his hold on Rick, then stepped back to survey his work. Rick stood now just as he had before, naked spare a pair of pink rabbit ears on his head, and the basket hanging from his neck, but now with a fluff of cotton taped to his backside. That was the final touch needed to make the costume complete; the Astro Bunny was now ready for his mission. All that remained was sending him on his way.
"Okay, bunny boy," Rusty spoke with a grin, grabbing his camcorder from where he placed it on the stair railing. "Get to knocking,"
Leclaire hopped quickly to his feet, stepping out of Rick's way and motioning to the door with his gun. "Or else," He giggled, aiming his gun again at Rick's crotch.
Rick ignored the threats this time, taking a deep breath as he walked up to the door. Releasing it with a slow sigh, he rapped his knuckles hard against the metal, stepping back when he heard a string of Russian shouted from the other side. He bit his lip nervously, glancing back at the men behind him, seeing nothing but paintball guns and smug grins. He shook his head and sighed, returning his gaze to the front just in time to see Zherdev open the door. And for the second time that day, he found himself gulping.
"Hey, Nik," He laughed nervously, fidgeting slightly. "Uh...Happy Easter?"
Zherdev stared in silence, eyes wide with a mixture of shock and confusion, and muttered a faint curse in Russian. Despite not knowing what he said, Rick blushed furiously, turning away from Zherdev in an attempt to escape his embarrassment. He made no progress however, as he was met with the aimed paintball gun of Leclaire, pointed again at his crotch, and a wicked grin from Klesla from behind his camera. He sighed deeply, mumbling a faint plea of release, only to find himself pushed back at Zherdev with resounding laughter.
"You know the rules, Rick," Rusty said through his laughter, poking Rick with his gun. "You have to explain everything, THEN you can leave if Z wants you to,"
Leclaire grinned. "But only if WE allow it."
Rick sighed deeply again, turning slowly back to face Zherdev. He feared the further reaction of his younger teammate, the look he might see on his face, but he realized once turned completely that there was no reason to; Zherdev's face wasn't the first thing to be seen, instead was the black of his hair, his face much lower as his eyes were focused intently below Rick's waist. A blush spread quickly over Rick, nearly dark enough to match the ears he wore, and he fidgeted nervously as he stood beneath Zherdev's gaze. Behind him the laughter slowed to snickers, and then to an anxious silence as they all waited for Zherdev's reaction. It was slow in coming, further torture for Rick that day, but eventually Zherdev's face returned level to their's. He smiled weakly, glancing nervously between the three of them, then hesitantly tried to speak.
"What...this...is?" He asked quietly, pausing with each word to properly translate to English.
Rick smiled weakly, shooting a quick glance back at the men standing behind him, then took a deep, slow breath. "It's...uh...sort of a team tradition," He explained, laughing nervously, running his teeth over his bottom lip. "Every year the first round pick from the year before has to dress up like this, and uh...deliver a basket of...stuff, to the newest pick for Easter. To welcome him to the team..."
He trailed off, his eyes dropping to the ground, his face flushed with embarrassment. Zherdev stood bewildered, his eyes still on Rick, trying to process what he had just heard. Understanding English was rarely a problem for him, he'd understood every word Rick had spoken, but when all was put together he just didn't understand. He hadn't understood much of the recent moments, from Rick's appearance, to the gun held by Leclaire, to the camera held by Klesla. Coupled with the words Nash had spoken, he was at a loss to explain anything that was going on. That left him with only one choice; play the innocent foreigner and ask them to explain.
"I...do not...understand," He spoke hesitantly, glancing between the three of them. "Please...tell me?"
Klesla grinned, jabbing Rick in the side with his gun. "Just show him the basket, that always works."
Rick nodded slightly, biting his lip as he stepped closer to Zherdev. He unhooked the basket from his neck, handing it hesitantly to his younger teammate, and swallowed over a lump in his throat.
"A basket of...stuff," He repeated, dropping his eyes to the ground in another furious blush.
"Tell him who you are," Pascal giggled, poking Rick with his gun just as Klesla had.
Rick sighed deeply. "The Astro bunny," He mumbled, hesitantly lifting his eyes back to Zherdev's.
Zherdev arched an eyebrow in confusion, uncertainly glancing down at the basket he'd been handed. A faint blush spread over his cheeks as he saw its contents, until his eyes caught glimpse of the small red bottle, and all at once everything became clear. He grinned slightly at the realization, grabbing the bottle from the basket before setting it on the table near his door. He glanced again between his teammates, first at a grinning Klesla, then a giggling Leclaire, before locking his eyes onto a blushing Rick Nash.
"Astro?" He asked, holding up the bottle in his hand. "Bunny?" He pointed at Rick.
Rick, still blushing, bit his lip, nodding slowly in reply.
"Welcome...me...to team?" Zherdev spoke softly with a grin, stepping closer to Rick.
"Yeah," Rick replied, still a bit hesitant. "It's...tradition,"
Zherdev grinned, slipping an arm around Rick's waist to pull him closer. The contact sent a shudder coursing through Rick, and he leaned into him, dipping his head slightly. Zherdev siezed that opportunity, leaning up and brushing his lips gently over Rick's. Rick whimpered in response, pressing closer to Nikolai, and Nikolai simply smiled.
"Tradition...is good," He spoke quietly, stepping backward into his apartment, curling a finger at Rick to follow.
"Or at least it will be." Rusty said with a grin, nudging Rick with his gun.
Rick followed quickly after Nikolai without a word, paying not even a glance back at the men standing behind him. That mattered not to them, as they followed anyway, snickering at Rick's sudden eagerness. Despite his many objections, they had expected no less from him, nor from Zherdev. Because beneath it all, both were still men, teenage boys who like any others, could be completely driven and controlled by their hormones. That was a fact that was banked on, when the tradition had first been started with Klesla those four years ago. So far, it had yet to be proven wrong.
Once inside, the games were ended quickly, Zherdev discarding the rabbit ears as he pulled Nash back to his bedroom. Rick grinned and ran a hand through his hair, happy to be rid of 2/3 of the costume, and said a quick "thank you" before he found himself pushed onto the bed. He gasped in surprise at that, but the gasp morphed immediately to a low growl as Nikolai peeled off his shirt. He grinned at Rick as he tossed it away, causing Rusty to duck as he entered the room and the fabric to hit Pascal. He voiced his objection from behind the cotton, to the tune of laughter from the others, before silence took over as Zherdev crawled onto the bed and drove his lips onto Rick's.
Rick whimpered into the kiss, arching into Nikolai as their skin touched and the kiss deepened. Their lips mashed together in a passionate fury, tongues writhing roughly against each other while hands explored bodies. Rick's hands were quick to find their way to Zherdev's waist, and easily he disposed of the shorts he wore, rubbing his hand appreciatively over the now bare skin. Nikolai smiled into the kiss, deepening it further as he wriggled free of the fabric, shifting so his rapidly hardening cock brushed over Rick's. A low moan resonated from both men, as well as the audience watching intently behind them; Pascal sitting now in a nearby chair, while Klesla stood against the door, camera still in hand. The subjects of their viewing had all but forgotten their presence in the room, lost in their passion and lust, but that was of little consequence to anyone. All that mattered to all four men was what happened on that bed; the continuation of a tradition, and one hot memory for all involved.
Reluctantly breaking their kiss, Nikolai trailed his lips down Rick's jaw to his neck, licking and nipping gently along the skin. Rick whimpered faintly from those feelings, slipping a hand into Nikolai's hair as his lips traveled lower. Teeth scraped gently over collarbone, followed quickly by a soothing tongue, Rick's whimpers gaining volume with each touch. His back arched as Nikolai's tongue traced over his chest, and he moaned deeply as it flicked over one nipple, then the other on its trek downward. Nikolai smiled against the skin of his stomach with that sound, continuing downward still, trailing wet kisses along Rick's abs. Once reaching his navel, Nikolai traced his tongue slowly over the skin, delving into it for the briefest of moments before licking lower once more and finally tracing over Rick's pulsing shaft.
A loud, deep moan filled the air with that contact, though Nikolai was unsure from which man it had come. It's origin hardly mattered however, it still served as the encouragement he needed to continue. Grinning up at Nash, he licked slowly down the underside, earning another course of moans for his actions. That only served to increase his grin, and swiftly he licked back up and wrapped his lips around Rick. Nash cried out in pleasure, thrusting his hips up and slipping a hand into Zherdev's hair. His fingers brushed gently through the dark locks as Nikolai bobbed his head, slipping low each time to swallow around him. Rick shuddered from that feeling, writhing slightly and thrusting up into his mouth. Nikolai moaned softly around him, holding his hips down with one hand while the other slipped down to his balls. He squeezed them gently as he bobbed, increasing his suction and Rick's moans at the same time. But that lasted only briefly as his hand slipped from Rick's balls, traveling lower until a finger pressed at Rick's opening, and his moans became whimpers of encouragement.
"Please, Nik," He gasped, wiggling back against Zherdev's hand.
"Yeah, please Nik," Klesla said hoarsely, both hands wrapped around the camera to keep it from shaking.
"Yeah, please," Leclaire whimpered, fidgeting in his chair.
Nikolai grinned wickedly at their pleads, giving a quick nod before reaching for the bottle of lube he'd held earlier. He wasted no time in pouring it's contents into his hand, blowing over it to warm it before slipping a slick finger easily into Rick. He gasped at the sudden intrusion, but quickly relaxed, moaning as the finger was thrust and wiggled inside him. Leaning down to kiss along Rick's stomach, Nikolai continued to gently thrust his finger for just a moment, then pressed a second finger into him. Rick moaned deeply, his muscles clenching tight around Nikolai's fingers, his back arching as they were thrust and scissored inside him. It didn't take long of that for Rick to relax, and with one last kiss to his stomach, Nikolai let his fingers slip from Rick and quickly stroked the remaining lube over himself.
Their watching teammates whimpered in anticipation, fighting to keep their hands off themselves, off each other, as was the rule for those in their position. There were no such rules for the others however, and Rick took advantage of that, stroking himself as Nikolai thrust gently into him. Moans again filled the air, from all four men this time. Nikolai especially, as Rick clenched tight around him with each thrust, his hips moving as he stroked himself. That movement set their pace, both men settling easily into rhythm. From there it was a whirlwind of passion, their pace quickening with each thrust, with each moan. The build up he'd suffered through that day quickly became too much for Rick to withstand, and he lost it first, arching his back high as he came onto his own chest. That sight, and the moans playing at his ears simply pushed Nikolai further, his thrusts gaining in force and speed. That was a pace he couldn't handle for long, and with a growl he thrust once more into Rick, then submitted to orgasm.
Sated, he slipped slowly from Rick, collapsing next to him on the bed, turning on his side to face him. Rick turned his head and grinned, still heaving to catch his breath. The humilation of Astro Bunny had paid off in the end, just as Pascal and Rusty had promised. And just as they'd promised, the bunny had gotten the first thank you, though a bit differently than he'd expected. That hardly mattered, though, all that did was what happened, the tradition was continued; Zherdev had been welcomed to the family.
"Welcome to Columbus," Rick chuckled softly, flashing a lopsided grin. "Five months late,"
Zherdev laughed, shaking his head slightly. He still wasn't sure he understood exactly what had went on that day, why the costume or basket was needed to welcome him that way, or why the welcoming took place once their season was over. But he had accepted long ago that there was no explaining some things his teammates did, especially these particular three. He didn't waste the time now, and today he didn't care to try anyway. He understood tradition, and what had come from it that day, and that was all that was important right now. He'd worry about the rest later.
"Thank you," Nikolai laughed. "I am...happy to...be here,"
At the foot of the bed, Klesla cleared his throat. Both men glanced up, eyes widening with what they saw. There Rusty stood naked, camera long since discarded, while Pascal struggled to shuck his clothing behind him. As good as the events of that day had been for Zherdev and Nash, they'd been equally as much torture for Leclaire and Klesla. But that was a part of the tradition, a part they respected for the afterward; for the chance to do their part in the welcoming.
"You thought you were happy before..." Rusty whispered with a grin, slipping a leg over Zherdev to straddle him.
"Just wait until we're done," Pascal giggled as he crawled up beside them.
Zherdev glanced between the two of them, then at Rick, before letting a grin spread over his lips. "Tradition is good. Tradition is VERY good."
Rick laughed, grabbing the bottle of lube from the bed. He handed it to Nikolai, and patting his hand flashed a grin "You have no idea..."
END
© 2004 Triple X
