I've been adding characters to this piece since February as I worked my way through the Game Changers series! I love how Ilya spent the books clocking every queer hockey player he came across and collecting them like Pokémon! 🌈
I dressed each character in the colors of the team they were playing for during their respective books! Plus Montreal!Shane+Boston!Ilya and Ottawa!Shane+Ottawa!Ilya versions!
Yesterday was my birthday today, so I finished this as a little gift to myself! I was going to wait until Ilya's birthday to post it, but honestly? Fuck it. Let's take a moment to appreciate Queer Fairy Godmother Ilya Rozanov!
Thank you for all the birthday wishes, and I hope everyone has a wonderful Pride Month!
I have a grudge against carrot juice. It´s got nothing to do about taste, ive never tried it. It's just that the existence of carrot juice feels inherently wrong.
TLDR: Troy sees Harris working and wants his attention. As always.
Word count: 1936
Rating: Mature
Summer used to be a season of two months of pure lust, secrecy and unrivaled need for Adrian Dela fucking Cruz. That was two years ago. Now, it was waking up too early for Troy’s liking due to Harris forgetting to close the curtains of the farm house’s master bedroom - of his and Troy’s bedroom. It still felt slightly surreal, mostly because it was, for both Harris and for Troy. Harris couldn’t believe he’d snagged Troy fucking Barrett and Troy couldn’t believe Harris stayed with him after the stunts he pulled.
Like now. Like the mischief that Troy’s head was being awoken by.
Click.
Troy’s head was on one of the, like, seven fucking pillows on the bed. The fan was whirring. It was a lovely temperature - not Florida beach hot, but not cold enough for the duvet to be over Harris. Courtesy of the perfectly tepid temperature, and Troy’s mission over the past 2 years of being with Harris and aiding him through his body issues, Harris was sat on top of the comfy but thin bed throw in nothing more than some very loose shorts and an open, thin, zip up hoodie.
Troy could eat him up, and he planned too.
Click, click. A brief pause of thought, then resumption of clicking and clacking of Harris’ fingers against the MacBook keyboard - a much deserved upgrade Troy had gifted Harris not long after the pair got together officially.
“Why’re you working…” Troy grumbled out, attempting to shuffle to stand up but his body was limp from sleep.
Harris glanced down at him, snorting. “Your hair is all spiky.”
“Don’t change the subject…” Troy pokes Harris’ thigh, smiling lazily up at him. Harris’ heart sped up slightly at Troy’s loving and relaxed smile. It used to be like pulling teeth to get that boy to smile when he joined Ottawa, now his smile (although it was generally a lot more reserved than it was currently) was plastered on at least four billboards deeper in the city.
Harris looked back up at his MacBook. It felt like torture, but he knew he couldn’t procrastinate this editting anymore. It was a team Q&A that the Centaurs had recorded before they got set loose for the summer two weeks ago. He really needed to get this video out. He’d hoped for it to have been out at the beginning of the week. It was now Thursday, and he was mentally cursing the Ottawa managers for signing so many fucking players.
“I need to get this done, Troy. People will start to think you lower my performance if I delay this stupid Q&A any longer.” Harris replies, a smile blooming on his face as he feels Troy move his head from the pillow to his thigh.
“Fine.” Troy attempts to sound agitated. It fails. That tone hadn’t been used by Troy for a long time now, it was unpracticed. Harris had loved it out of him.
A few minutes pass, Troy begins to come down to Earth from his deep sleep. His brain wakes up, and his body follows suit. Troy came to the realisation that his head was quite close to Harris’ crotch.
Clack. Click! … Click, click, click.
Troy raised his face from Harris’ thigh. His eyes fluttered up to Harris’ own green eyes. Troy had always thought his own eyes were quite grim until the past few years. Funny how Harris had loved that out of him as well. Troy blew hot air towards Harris’ crotch, “Really? Nothing?” He teases out to Harris.
Harris pauses what he’s doing, whatever he was doing, Troy wouldn’t be able to understand even if his head was completely clear, and not directing all brain power down to his dick and still waking up. His hands leave his MacBook’s laptop, allowing it to rest back against his knees.
“What’re you up to?” He inquires. The smirk Troy caught on his lips was louder than words - Harris knew exactly what was going on.
Harris’ hand goes to put the MacBook aside when Troy tuts. “Don’t procrastinate.” His words are muffled as he presses a kiss to Harris’ ample thigh, just below the seam of Harris’ shorts. Harris’s left arm falls to Troy’s back, his hand alternating between rubbing his back and his nape to his fingertips dancing in the bottom strands of his hair. It’d grown out slightly after playoffs ended.
“Troy…” Harris whispers out, closing his eyes and resting his head back against the headboard of their very fucking big bed. He was trying to calm both himself and Troy down. It seemingly wasn’t working as Troy sucks the skin into his mouth and presses his teeth onto the skin in a loving variation of threat and a low groan leaves his own lips.
Troy lets the skin leave his mouth with a saliva wet pop! and his eyes lock on Harris’.
“Laptop.” He grumbles out. He didn’t like his plans not going to fruition, and his plans were to completely and utterly distract Harris until he would feel like he was going insane without it.
By the look in Harris’ eyes as Troy peppers kisses on his thigh, it wouldn’t take long.
“Okay, okay.” Harris mumbles, trying to force his lidded eyes a little wider and fighting his body to focus on his work that was way overdue instead of the five foot and nine inches of muscle between his legs. Speaking of which, his mouth was kissing a path to the inside of Harris’ thigh.
Troy takes a more open mouthed kiss to Harris’ inner thigh, almost as a reward to Harris for attempting to refocus on his work. If he hadn’t been open mouth kissing Harris’ body, a proud smile would’ve danced across his face as Troy sees his cock twitch, through the unforgiving and stretchy fabric of Harris’ shorts, as it plumps with blood.
Clack……clack…click…
Harris was trying to focus on his work, he really was, knowing he wanted to satisfy Troy and whatever plan he had with him that involved him working and the fact that he really did have to get this stupid video edited.
Harris’ half hard cock lays heavy against the inside of his left thigh. Whenever Troy took a second to breath, pulling his face away from Harris’ body, Harris could feel his quickened breath against his dick - that’s how close his face was to it.
Harris’ cursor presses on a snippet of the Q&A, inserting a text bubble and beginning to type out the question on the card that Wyatt Hayes was currently reading from when he felt Troy’s hot mouth wrap itself around the head of his somewhat firm cock, that was now quickly stiffening in his mouth, through the fabric of his shorts.
“Troy, you can’t expect me to be able to focus like this…”
Troy’s blue eyes lock with Harris’ own green eyes, and god, did Troy look fantastic. His mouth licking and suckling at the tip of Harris’ cock through the fabric, smiling softly; his hair was unkempt - his crown had hair sticking up from sleep and the front of his hair was all rustled.
Troy rarely looked this relaxed, this beautiful. He often looked sexy, and attractive, but rarely beautiful.
Harris’ hand falls from the touchpad of his laptop to Troy’s hair. If it was already messed up, why not ruin it further?
His fingers card through the dark brown of his moderately thick hair. “Shit, Troy…”
With that encouragement, Troy’s lips unpuckered from Harris’ tip through the shorts, “Torture…”, to Harris’ disappointment. Troy’s nose brushes Harris’ thigh as his teeth pull down at the hem of the stretchy shorts. “Ah.” Harris mutters in understanding. He pushes the shorts down, helping Troy.
“Happy?” He inquires, getting met with a happy nod and quick inhale.
“Commando?” Troy blows out the air in his nose.
“It’s warm, for fucking once.”
“Ah.” One of the many things Troy had picked up from Harris over the past year and a half…
Troy’s eyes lock with Harris’ as his mouth lowers onto the tip of his cock yet again. It was already slightly wet from his suckling at it through his shorts a moment earlier.
“Better..” Harris says to the quiet room, his laptop forgotten on his knees.
Troy had never been bad at sucking dick, at all, but he’d gotten a lot better over the past year and a half and he’d learnt exactly how Harris liked it. Slightly sloppy and deep. Troy spat a bit of saliva onto the tip of Harris’ dick and then carried it down his length with his tongue until he fit all of him into his mouth, Harris’ cock just nudging at the back of his mouth.
The nice thing with Harris was that he didn’t have too much so that it was overwhelming but he had enough (and an amazing understanding of what to do with it) that he still made Troy feel full and satiated.
“Troyyy, shit, bud…”
And he was more than vocal enough to make Troy’s ego inflate like fuck.
Harris’ hand grabs at the ends of Troy’s hair slightly, probably accidentally, probably out of habit and satisfaction. There goes Troy’s ego. Again.
“Fuck, bud, yeah…” Harris groans as Troy’s cheeks hollow out around him. Harris’ head hits the backboard of the bed, yet again, but his eyes never leave Troy. He loved to admire Troy in this state, beautiful and affectionate. “Mhm, like that…” If his words would encourage him to continue, Harris would sing his praises until the sun burnt up.
Troy looks up at Harris through his dark eyelashes and winks slightly at him. He knew Harris was infatuated with his eyes. He didn’t personally understand the hype, but he was more than happy to let Harris dote on him. That was half the point of why he was sucking him off currently. Also for the fact that he found a weird satisfaction from being able to bring Harris ‘I love my job’ Drover away from his work that made his ego soar through the roof.
Harris’ hips jolted up. Troy paid the bucking no mind and snaked his hand under Harris’ leg and his middle finger traces up his perineum until it finds his sac by pure muscle memory as his eyes stay stuck on Harris’ and the beauty of his fucked out face.
Harris groans out again, loudly, of course. It was a blessing that the farm house was quite isolated from their neighbours.
Troy’s nose hits Harris’ pubis repeatedly as his mouth moves on him, his tongue becoming painted with Harris’ pre-come. Harris was never particularly slow to come, especially not with Troy’s mouth around him. That boy and his mouth infatuated Harris.
Harris grabs Troy’s hair particularly harshly. “Shit, fuck, bud, gonna come in a second, shh–shit!”
Harris warned him, but he knew Troy was unlikely to pull himself off by his own accord and that would go against Harris’ plans. He wanted to ruin that fucking beautiful hair. He pushes Troy’s head off him, much to his upset.
“Hey!” He complains before his mouth falls open with surprise as Harris’ come stripes into his hair and on his forehead.
“I–..” Troy grumbles at Harris. “I wanted that…” He mutters.
Harris grabs his chin with his left hand and uses his right hand to pat his now half hard dick against Troy’s sculpted cheek, “Why? Does that taste of apples too?” he teases.
“I wouldn’t be surprised.”
Harris smiles down at him. “That…was a pretty good distraction.”
“Return the favour?”
“Mhm.”
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Thank you so much to my beta readers @asmodeusmustdiexo and @nerdychick13 !!! my fics aren't particularly amazing, but my beta readers make them 1000000x better, so thank you, you guys!!
