this is a long one, fair warning
when wyatt’s alarm goes off, thomas wishes for the sweet release of death. while sleeping next to wyatt never fails to help him feel more rested, he is exhausted down to his dna. he lets out a long, truly pitiful groan, burying his head into the back of wyatt’s neck. wyatt turns off the alarm and for a few blissful seconds, thomas deludes himself into thinking they can spend the rest of the day, the rest of their lives, in this bed. wyatt, on the other hand, is in game day mode. he sits up, turning to look back at thomas with a small smile before heading off into the bathroom. thomas lounges for a few more minutes then drags himself from the warmth and comfort of sheets that smell like wyatt to go make breakfast.
morning skate is pretty uneventful. mostly because the guys are struggling to make anything happen. wyatt and a few of the other guys are in their heads, hyperfocused on the game later. thomas and the rest are too damn tired and are attempting to conserve their energy for tonight. when they make it back to the locker room, everyone showers as quickly as they can, eager to get home and take a nap before they have to be back. thomas catches wyatt’s eyes as he gathers his stuff, sees the question in them, and nods.
the ride back to wyatt’s is silent. when they arrive, wyatt immediately goes into the den to put film on to review. thomas veers toward the kitchen. wyatt always gets a chef during playoffs to meal prep for him, so making lunch is a simple matter of heating up carefully measured portions of protein. thomas can hear the film playing, knows that wyatt is sitting on the couch, leaning forward, fully immersed, despite having already seen the footage probably a million times. he brings his plate to him, and they eat in silence. wyatt watches the film, thomas watches wyatt. he notices the way his brow seems to grow more and more furrowed. how tight is jaw is. how stiff his posture is getting.
thomas cares about hockey. it’s practically his whole life. he loves it, even when it doesn’t necessarily love him back. but his overthinking and anxiety comes after the games. going over every single time he touched the puck, every penalty, every missed shot. sometimes, the overwhelming feelings will come on mid-game but for some reason, he is pretty calm before. sure he gets a little nervous or worried, sometimes excited. but all manageable. wyatt becomes a different person before the games. no matter how big or unimportant the game is, wyatt is like a machine who’s only purpose is to stress about hockey. thomas has watched it for years, has tried to help before, but this time, it’s different.
he grabs the remote off the coffee table and turns the tv off, causing wyatt to whip his head accusingly in his direction. “come on,” thomas says, grabbing wyatt’s arm. “rest. now.” wyatt opens his mouth to argue, but thomas shakes his head and pulls him along. “just for a little while. all the game film in the world won’t help you if you’re exhausted on the ice.”
they climb back into wyatt’s bed, facing each other this time. thomas lets his hand drift up to wyatt’s cheek, tracing his thumb over his cheekbone, ignore the feeling of wyatt’s horrible playoff beard against his palm. “sorry, i just-”
“i know,” thomas interrupts. “don’t apologize. just…rest, okay? just for a little while?” wyatt nods. and thomas closes his eyes, letting sleep drag him under.
when he wakes up, he reaches absently across the bed, his fingers closing on empty sheets. he cracks open an eye and finds wyatt’s side of the bed abandoned. he sighs, pushing himself up and grabbing his phone off the nightstand. wyatt must have plugged it up when he snuck out of the room. he checks the time. a decent nap with plenty of time before they have to head back to the aac. he rubs his face roughly, trying to wake himself up, knowing he’s gonna need to be on his best game when he leaves the room.
he makes his way to the den and finds wyatt pacing in front of the tv, the game film on, but muted so as not to wake up thomas. he watches from the hallway as wyatt paces one way, looks up at the tv, and then turns muttering to himself about what he saw. and then again. and again. back and forth. thomas lets him get five more reps in before stepping into his path. wyatt jumps, completely lost in his brain. he looks awful. he’s been biting his lower lip, his hair is completely unruly and he’s got a bit of a crazy look in his eyes.
“you’re up,” he says, looking guiltily from thomas to the tv and back. “i’m sorry, tom, but i couldn’t sleep.”
“are you okay?” thomas asks.
“i’m fine,” wyatt says, shrugging. he looks to the tv just in time to see a goal being scored by the avs and he lets out a scoff. “whatever, like that’s so impressive. i mean, it’s just that…”
and suddenly wyatt is ranting. his words are fast and angry, to the point of near incoherence. thomas tries, he really does, to keep up but wyatt is moving between thoughts nonsensically, the flow of his conversation perfectly illustrating the spiral that’s been going on his brain all day. thomas isn’t sure how long he talks, but the longer it goes on, the more worried he gets. this season has been wyatt’s best and he knows that people are relying on his friend in an extreme way, so the light break from sanity isn’t surprising. that doesn’t mean thomas has to like it.
eventually, wyatt stops to suck in a deep breath. “i have to shower.” he mutters, then continues his rant. thomas follows him to the bathroom, his breath catching when he walks in to find wyatt stripping his clothes off without much thought. thomas stares, greedy and struggling for breath, and makes a conscious effort to ignore his growing erection. wyatt climbs in and turns on the shower. the sound of the water drowns out his voice so that thomas only catches a word or two but he stays in wyatt’s line of sight. even with the hot water steaming up the glass door of the shower, thomas can see enough to drive him crazy. it’s nearly impossible to stay focused, his attention drifting and catching on wyatt’s body every few seconds. which is why, when wyatt sticks his head out of the shower and says, “hello are you listening to me?” thomas nearly jumps out of his skin.
“yeah, yeah of course, it’s just kinda hard to hear over the water.” thomas says, crossing his arms over his chest.
“okay so then come in here.” wyatt says, like it’s so obvious. like it’s nothing. thomas takes a deep breath. he’s trying to kill me. “come on, tom, i need your thoughts on this part.”
in absolute awe that this is his life, thomas abandons his clothes on the floor and steps in to the shower with wyatt, standing behind him. close, but not touching him. he forces himself to listen to wyatt; to focus on hockey; to answer wyatt’s questions and match his musings with his own. he takes the soap from wyatt with barely any skin to skin contact, manages to actually wash himself and answer wyatt in intelligent, full sentences. he completely ignores his now painfully hard dick, because the last thing wyatt needs right now is to add thomas’s desire to his overcrowded brain.
it takes a while but eventually wyatt tires himself out. he trails off on a sentence and then lets out a deep sigh, and tilts his head back letting the water flow over his face. thomas waits a moment, making sure he isn’t just preparing his next monologue and then tests the waters. “i think that might be a new record,” he says quietly and wyatt chuckles.
“i think you’re right,” wyatt responds, and he sounds more like himself. “holy fuck i’m ridiculous.”
“well if it makes you feel any better, i don’t think the length of time you talked is the most ridiculous thing to come out of this.” tom mutters, his eyes falling on wyatt’s ass mere inches from his still hard dick.
“really? then what is?” wyatt says clueless and fucking adorable, leaning back. thomas steps forward without thinking, letting wyatt’s head fall back against his chest. the only problem is that brings wyatt’s body into contact with thomas’s. wyatt lets out a surprised noise and stands back up, spinning to face thomas. “oh fuck, tom, i’m sorry! i didn’t even think…oh my god, wow okay yeah, you’re right. i’m ridiculous and i’m so fucking sorry. i am just so in my head.”
“shhh, it’s fine.” he turns wyatt back around, in part so he can let the water wash over his face again and also so he doesn’t have to look at thomas’s erection while he’s spiraling.
“i don’t know why i feel like this. it’s so much worse than it’s ever been. i feel like i’m going crazy.” wyatt mumbles, his head tilting back and then snapping up again. thomas steps forward and pulls him gently against him again, standing a little awkwardly to avoid contact below his chest. if wyatt is annoyed or uncomfortable with thomas’s situation, though, he sure isn’t showing it. he just leans further back, propping himself up with thomas. wyatt’s mouth is slightly open, water trickling into it and every so often he takes his bottom lip or the inside of his cheek between his teeth. “even now my fucking brain is reeling. what’s wrong with me that i have a hot as fuck guy naked and hard behind me in the shower and i can’t stop thinking about face off percentages?”
“you’re passionate.” thomas says, “nothing wrong with that.”
“something wrong with me.” and now his thumbnail is suffering through his teeth.
“don’t say that.” thomas says, his voice firm. he reaches around to grab wyatt’s wrist. “and don’t bite your nails.”
wyatt sighs, chooses to bite his lip again instead and then leans back further into thomas. his ass brushes thomas’s dick, and suddenly an idea pops into his head. his breath skips a little, and he opens his mouth to offer it to wyatt but then stops himself, mulling it over, trying to look past the initial thought to the motivations behind it. wyatt senses the change in him and tilts his head so he can look up at thomas from his resting spot on his chest. “what is it?”
“i, uh, well i had an idea, but i think it was stupid and probably super wrong and selfish.”
“what’s the idea?” wyatt asks curiously, unaware of the war raging in thomas’s brain.
“well, it was actually more of a theory.” thomas says, and now wyatt is standing and turning to look straight at thomas. “just something i thought might help.”
“let’s do it.” wyatt says immediately.
“well…” thomas falters, suddenly feeling a little nervous that this might be too far. but wyatt is chewing on his lip again. “do you trust me?”
“what? of course i do.” wyatt says instantly. he brings his hands up to either side of thomas’s neck.
“no, i mean like really trust me. like you know i wouldn’t force you to do anything you didn’t want to do or anything you aren’t comfortable with. and that no matter what i would always take your comfort and boundaries more seriously than anything else. you know that, right?”
“yes, i know all that,” wyatt says, “but i will admit this is kind of freaking me out.” he brings his thumb back to his mouth, and before he can start biting it thomas has made up his mind.
he grabs wyatt’s shoulders and turns them, guiding him gently on to the stone bench set into the back wall of the shower. wyatt sits and looks up at him, and thomas has to turn his back for a moment. he takes a second to turn off the water, gathering himself and then turns back to wyatt. “i want you to stay still, okay? this isn’t about me. i have a theory about something that might help you calm down. at least a little.” wyatt’s eyebrows furrow a little but he nods. “open your mouth wyatt.”
he does. instantly. and thomas wants to drop to the ground and kiss the ground around his feet. that level of trust is more intoxicating than any drug on planet earth. he has to take another minute to regroup and wyatt just stays sitting, mouth open waiting patiently. thomas approaches him slowly, reaches out to run this thumb along his cheekbone, then his jaw and finally his lip. wyatt’s tongue pokes out to meet his finger and thomas’s theory gains a little traction. he slips his thumb into wyatt’s mouth and wyatt closes it instantly. he runs his tongue along thomas finger, bites it gently, sucks. “open again please.” wyatt does hesitate this time, a sort of panic entering his eyes. “it’s okay. i know. trust me.” slowly, wyatt opens, allowing thomas to slip his finger out.
he takes a deep breath and grabs the base of his cock, rubs the head against wyatt’s bottom lip. wyatt whimpers and moves his head to take thomas into his mouth, deep and fast, but thomas places a hand on his shoulder and pushes him back as gently as he can. “no, that’s not what this is, wyatt. remember just stay still. i’m not doing this so i can cum. i mean, let’s be honest i will, but that’s not what it’s for. this is part of my theory, and i promise it will make sense. just…just stay still okay?”
“okay,” wyatt says, in a small voice, looking up at thomas from beneath his eyelashes.
thomas starts again, rubs the head of his cock against wyatt’s lip and then pushes it slowly inside. wyatt whimpers as soon as the weight hits his tongue. “close your eyes,” thomas says through a grunt. wyatt does and thomas pushes a little further into wyatt’s mouth. he stops with more of his dick out of wyatt’s mouth than in, but this isn’t about him. as crazy as it may sound, it really isn’t. he braces himself with his forearm on the wall of the shower and watches as wyatt’s inhales though his nose become more even and measured. when his breathing turns normal for the first time all day, or at least as normal as it can be with your mouth full, he opens his eyes and looks up at thomas, who is watching everything very closely. his tongue runs along the bottom of his dick and thomas mutters a curse. “more?” thomas whispers and wyatt swipes his tongue over the head of his cock in answer. thomas pushes in a little more, gasping. it’s not hard to tell when he gets the perfect amount in because wyatt’s eyes flutter closed. thomas stills, letting his cock twitch in wyatt’s mouth, letting wyatt hold it there for as long as he wants. slowly, as thomas’s grip on his self control frays more and more, wyatt’s shoulder relax. the tension fades from his body, and he lets out a whimper. then his eyes slowly open and he looks up at thomas again, only this time there is no question hidden behind the blue. instead, there is gratitude. thomas registers it about one second before he registers that he is about to cum. his eyes widen in shock and he tries to pull away, but wyatt knows thomas just as well as thomas knows him, and he bobs his head forward, taking thomas deeper, the head of his dick brushing the back of wyatt’s throat at the same moment thomas explodes. wyatt watches thomas the whole time, and thomas feels like he might die. like this orgasm with this man might actually kill him.
wyatt waits until the last of thomas’s cum lands in his throat before he pulls back. he releases’s thomas dick long enough to swallow and take a few deep breaths and then he pulls it back into his mouth, just a little, running his tongue over it in different patterns, causing thomas to grunt and curse and his hips to jerk once or twice. they stay like for a while. even as thomas’s dick grows softer and his breathing returns to normal. wyatt’s eyes are closed again and every so often, he will whimper and run his tongue over thomas again. eventually, thomas, runs his hand through wyatt’s, hair, pulling his head back until only the head of thomas’s dick remains in his mouth. his eyes open slowly, and thomas smiles at him.
“as much as i want to let you take as long as you need, there is a possibility i will get hard again. and we do have somewhere to be soon.” wyatt sighs out of his nose and slowly opens his mouth. his head falls forward to rest against thomas’s stomach, and he is more relaxed than thomas has ever seen him before a game. “how do you feel?” thomas asks, lightly scratching his back.
“calm.” wyatt answers. “like someone muted my brain.”
“glad to know my theory was accurate.” thomas whispers, and wyatt laughs.
“i don’t fully understand what just happened,” wyatt mutters, shaking his head, his hair soft against thomas’s skin.
“you put things in your mouth a lot. especially, when you’re anxious. it’s a coping tool, i think. i don’t know the psychology behind it but i just thought maybe…”
“you were right. thank you.” wyatt says, and he stands, a little shaky but with a smile on his face. “should i feel embarrassed about this?”
“okay, let me rinse off and then we can go.” wyatt says, placing a kiss on thomas’s chest before sidestepping him to reach for the water.
“rinse off? we just showered.” thomas laughs. wyatt turns to him, his cheeks almost as pink as thomas’s usual shade, and looks down, and that’s when thomas notices the cum on wyatt’s stomach. his eyes widen and he tries to remember seeing wyatt touch himself, but- “okay now that you should be embarrassed about.”
“shut up, tom,” wyatt orders. but thomas is smiling so wide he feels like his face might crack in half.
thomas teases him about it the entire way to the arena.
i mean completely untouched, johnny.
i didn’t even notice, how is that possible?
maybe it’s not about having something in your mouth at all, maybe my dick is magic.
wyatt groans and blushes. thomas grabs his hand from his lap and places a kiss on his palm to assure him he’s joking. they pause and smile at each other before getting out of the car. and a few hours later, they both have their best games of the season and the dallas stars have a spot in the western conference finals.
*ahhhhh sorry this took so long to post!! i’ve been toying around with how i would introduce wyatt’s oral fixation since before i even started publishing this. i just hope i did it justice. ik this one is long so i appreciate you guys reading it. i really hope you like it!! more to come!!*
vaporwave
izzy806
kianamaiart
2087
andulkaphoto
pixelskylines
