Hi there, friend. My heart would sing for Kit/Jade + making ice hockey sexy sexier. Kit is super into watching Jade skate, turns into temperature play. Cold noses and fingers. Warm mouths etc. Warm cocoon of them versus the chill of the world vibe. I appreciate your thoughtfulness!
I don't know that this is a warm cocoon, but it's certainly ridiculous hockey flirting and I hope that's what you're into.
+
Kit pulls her helmet off before she’s all the way over the boards. She twitches her lips into a grimace that turns into a grin, as her mouthguard pops out and she chews down on it, hard. “Top shelf,” she crows, as she slides down to the bench.
Her hair is sweat-slick, a mussed tangle of nonsense that’s sticking to her neck, falling in front of her eyes. She tosses her head like a dog, as though she’s shaking the joy of her victory down through the whole of her body, right into her skates. A towel appears in her hand; she runs it roughly over her head like she’s fresh out of the shower.
She gives her mouthguard another zealous, joyful chomp. Looks over her shoulder, and it’s only a glimmer - a flash of a glance in the direction of Jade with her clipboard, arms crossed. Anyone who didn’t know might think she was stretching out her arm, working through a knot in her shoulder before she got ready for the next play.
Jade catches Kit’s wink.
Jade feels the familiar, complicated blend of desire and infuriation skitter through her, a fire that warms her from within no matter how cold the ice gets.
+
When the game is over, Kit’s still riding high from her victory. She plays well, plays serious, and that goal - top corner, a path right between the glove and the pad - gives her a little extra something that lingers until the final buzzer.
She takes her time in the locker room. The rest of the team packs up: skates off, pads away, equipment ready to be sharpened and cleaned and everything else it needs. Kit lingers in her shirt and leggings, that colour still high in her cheeks, her victory still bright in her eyes.
Jade is outside the locker room, when Kit finds her, grinning.
Cocky.
She’s so fucking pretty, when she grins at Jade crooked like that.
“You saw, right?” Kit says. She’s bouncing on her toes. She’s chewing gum, somehow, as though her jaw didn’t get enough of a workout from her mouthguard. It’s the only thing about her that smells good; the gentle spearmint cuts through the smell of cooling sweat and hockey pads and the inside of her skates. “On the replay?”
“I saw,” Jade replies. Her voice is tight. She’s trying so hard not to look approving, or indulgent.
Kit fingers the zipper on Jade’s jacket. Drags it one inch up, two inches down. Does something with her eyebrows and her gum that Jade *knows* makes all the girls who are easily impressed by hockey players *very* impressed. “You were into it, right?”
Jade is, as always, of two minds.
“You were lucky the goalie wasn’t paying attention. He was slow on his glove side tonight.” The words are the right words. A coach’s words. The tone is too warm, too indulgent.
Kit’s grip on Jade’s zipper tightens. “Yeah, but I got the job done.”
Jade sighs. She means it to be a stern sigh, the sigh of a professional giving advice. “Your game needs consistency. Not every shot is going to be lucky every time. You have to -“
Kit steps into Jade’s space, a cloud of heat and sports and hazy adrenaline, her eyes already unfocused on Jade’s mouth. The hand on her zipper turns into a fist. “Oh, I can be consistent,” she says.
Jade rolls her eyes. “Just because you can hit the broad side of a barn -“
“Get the job done, didn’t I -“
“You need discipline-“
“Not what you said on the weekend,” Kit says. She snaps her gum, as punctuation.
Jade sighs. “That is, in fact, what I said on the weekend. On and off the ice.”
Kit’s other hand cups Jade between her legs. “Nothing but net,” she croons, and she sounds so proud of herself, so high on her own victory and her own success and Jade’s ears burn at the *intimate* full body sense of how badly she wants to fuck Kit in spite of it all.
“That’s basketball,” Jade says. “Keep your stick on the ice.”
Kit cups, presses, the heel of her hand strong and perfectly firm against Jade’s cunt. Jade bites back the moan she can feel coming, before Kit can get the satisfaction of hearing it. “If you want my stick,” Kit says. “We’ve gotta go back to my place.”
Jade sighs. “You’re ridiculous.”
Kit presses again, grinds up with her palm, finding the moan that Jade can’t quite contain. “You’re into it.”
Couldn't decide between these two awesome graphics @greyheadedjaco made for the story @tanthamoreland and I write, so for now both work. Hazel goes back and forth with her look throughout the story, so having two fits lol. Huge thanks to @greyheadedjaco for these :).
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