by A. E. Wasp
“You are evil,” Alex said when he finally got his breath back.
Sergei flopped down onto his back. “I broke no rules. No hands under clothes, no touching below the waist, no touching myself when we are trying to have a serious conversation. I was not naked in your bed.”
“I can’t argue with that.” Alex punched him.
Sergei reached over to the nightstand for his phone.
“You’re checking your email now?” Alex asked.
“No,” Sergei answered and then took a picture of Alex covered in come and bite marks, his face and neck still flushed from his orgasm.
“That ought to get you more Instagram followers.”
“That will get me arrested,” Sergei muttered. He locked the phone and placed it back on the bedside table.
Sleep dragged hard on Alex’s mind. “Send it to me?” With a groan, he pushed himself up and off the bed. Drunk on sex, he staggered naked to the bathroom on wobbly legs. Sergei followed behind him.
They cleaned up as best they could, a process that would have gone much quicker if they hadn’t had to stop and kiss every thirty seconds, but neither one of them had any complaints.
Sergei collapsed into the bed with a groan.
Alex hesitated, picking his clothes up off the floor.
“Alex,” Sergei said without opening his eyes.
“Yeah?”
“Shut off light and get into bed.” His voice was laced with affection.
“Okay.” He shut the lights off and slid under the covers. Before he could even start to worry about anything, Sergei dragged him across the bed and spooned the hell out of him.
“Merry Christmas,” Sergei said with a kiss to his shoulder.
“Merry Christmas.” Despite all the questions racing around Alex’s head, sleep claimed him in mere seconds. I hope Sergei likes his present was his last clear thought.
17
Sergei
To say that Alex wasn’t a morning person would be a gross understatement. For a man who’d had to get up before the sun rose to get in training and practice for most of his life, he sure hated waking up.
When he had been a kid, it had taken an act of God and a thermos of coffee to get him out of bed.
Now, it was as if as soon as he no longer had to be up before dawn for training and practice, he’d sworn an oath not to get out of bed before ten o’clock. Sergei was normally at the gym by then.
So Sergei was understandably surprised when he woke up with the first rays of dawn on Christmas morning, only to find the bed empty. Not even the cats were there. Sergei had a memory of Alex getting up to let them in after they had scratched at the door for fifteen minutes straight. They must have been taking turns.
Sergei stretched out the aches in his shoulders. The memory of what he and Alex had done the night before sent a shock through his body. God, he’d had Alex’s cock in his mouth. It had been so long since he’d had the urge to do that and even longer since he’d done it. Years.
He groaned remembering Alex begging to suck his cock. That had been too much for Sergei, after he’d had the incredibly erotic experience of Alex writhing and moaning under Sergei’s hands and coming in his mouth.
Sergei’s cock stirred. Maybe when Alex got back from the bathroom, they could pick up where they’d left off. That would make it a merry Christmas for sure. Would Alex still have the marks of Sergei’s mouth on him? He hoped so.
Absentmindedly palming his cock, he waited for Alex to come back. After a few minutes, he realized he didn’t hear any movement coming from the bathroom—no sound of running water, none of the low singing Alex did without noticing, no footsteps. “Alex?” he called.
No answer. Strange. Oh, God. What if Alex had had second thoughts? Had Sergei pushed too far, too fast? He sat up so quickly his head spun. Whoa.
Worry started to creep in around the edges of his contentment. He put on a shirt and sweatpants, and went to find Alex.
The first place he checked was Alex’s bedroom. Empty. A little messy, with clothes strewn around the floor and a surprising number of towels tossed over the racks and backs of chairs. Sergei didn’t remember owning so many towels.
The aroma of something delicious cooking floated up the stairs, and if he listened closely, he could hear the faint sound of Christmas carols. Following the sounds and smells, Sergei made his way downstairs and into the kitchen.
Alex stood at the stove holding a spatula and singing along to the music. The cats lay next to the baseboard heater, wearing their Christmas sweaters and curled around each other as always.
Alex was also decorated for Christmas wearing a Santa apron over his pajamas. He smiled so brightly Sergei knew his fears were unfounded.
“Bonjour, mon chum, Joyeux Noël.” Alex turned to Sergei, a spatula in one hand and tongs in the other.
Chum? Did he mean chum like buddy or chum like boyfriend? Add that to the list of things Sergei wasn’t going to bring up right now.
“Good morning and Merry Christmas to you, too.” Sergei stood behind Alex and slid his hands around his waist. He bent down to nuzzle Alex’s neck. He loved how easy it was to tuck Alex up against his body. At almost a foot taller and easily sixty pounds heavier, he felt very protective of Alex, though he knew the man could take care of himself.
What had Alex called him? A caveman? Maybe he was.
Alex twisted out of his grip with a laugh. “You are going to make me burn the bacon!”
“I will buy more bacon,” Sergei promised, sliding his hands down Alex’s pants.
Alex smacked him with the spatula. “Arrête là! If you don’t stop, you will get no crêpes.”
Sergei yanked his hands out and stepped back. “Crêpes? Really?”
“Yes, really.” Alex turned back to the stove and flipped one of the aforementioned crêpes. “But if you don’t let me cook, you will have only burned crêpes, yes?”
Sergei backed up with his hands raised. “Please. I am sorry. I will not interfere. What kind of crêpes? Nutella?”
“As if I wouldn’t have Nutella and bananas.” Alex waved his spatula at the table where various condiments such as real Canadian maple syrup, Nutella, berries, and powdered sugar sat in a neat row. Sergei smiled to himself when he saw Alex’s beloved beaver pattern china on the table along with fancy glasses and a pitcher of juice.
“Coffee is made,” Alex said. “Go sit down, and I’ll bring you the first batch.”
Sergei got himself a coffee mug, checking the list of rules taped to the inside of the door as he did. It didn’t seem like there were any changes, thank goodness. After last night, he’d half-expected Alex to add ‘no blowjobs’ or something similar. Now since they weren’t off the table, maybe he could find a way to get them in that position again. Or a different position. He wouldn’t be picky.
Checking to make sure Alex was set with coffee, Sergei poured himself a generous mug and sat at the table as ordered. “You did not have to go to all the trouble. And so early in the morning. I did not think you capable of getting up so early.”
Alex wrinkled his nose adorably. “The first promise I made myself when I retired from skating was no more early mornings. It is my duty to figure skaters everywhere to sleep in as late as I can. I sleep for those who can’t.”
Alex slid one of the warm crêpes onto the plate in front of Sergei. ““Think of it as a Christmas present. I wanted to thank you for everything. And I know you love these.”
Sergei reached for the Nutella and bananas. He should probably have some protein first, but it was Christmas. If you couldn’t indulge on Christmas, when could you? “Does this mean if you hadn’t moved in, I would have no Christmas present? That is very sad.”
Alex slipped a few pieces of bacon onto the plate. Oh, bacon. That was protein. It counted.
“It’s very hard to shop for a millionaire.” Alex put his hands on his hips. “Maybe I could have gotten you an air freshener for your car? A Sergei Pergov bobblehead?”
> Grabbing Alex around the hips as he tried to walk away, Sergei pulled Alex onto his lap.
“Hey!” Alex steadied himself with an arm around Sergei’s neck.
“Eat.” Sergei held up a forkful of crêpes. Alex obediently ate it. As much as he hated thinking about Chuck at all, he finally got why the guy had done it. It felt good in a primal way to have Alex on his lap, sharing his food with him and feeling his skin. He really was a caveman.
“Oh, osstie,” Alex exclaimed jumping up. “I forgot to turn off the burners.”
After saving the house from potential immolation, Alex poured a fresh cup of coffee and dished himself a plate of crêpes and bacon. He sat across from Sergei with grin. “Don’t pout. If you’re good, after breakfast we can open presents.”
Sergei smiled. “So you did get me a present?” Christmas wasn’t a big deal in Russia, but Sergei had happily adjusted to the Western way of celebrating. He and Alex exchanged presents every year, either by mail or in person.
“Maybe. And maybe Père Noël left something in your stocking as well.”
“I was very good this year.”
“You were very good last night,” Alex said primly, then smiled and shoved a piece of bacon in his mouth.
Sergei grinned.
“You don’t think any less of me now, do you?” Alex fluttered his eyebrows at Sergei as if he were joking, but Sergei could tell his old friend was a little worried underneath the attempt at casualness.
He leaned forward and took Alex’s hand. “Nothing you do could ever make me think anything but good about you.”
Alex squeezed Sergei’s hand before pulling it free. Blushing, he looked down at his plate. “Yes. Well.” He poked his food with his fork. “Should we open presents now?”
“That sounds like excellent plan.” He stood up, grabbing the dirty dishes. “Let me load dishwasher and meet you in the den?”
Alex smiled. “Sounds perfect.”
And it was perfect. Alex was thrilled with the replacement china Sergei had found for his set. That earned Sergei a lap full of Alex and a deep kiss.
Alex had gotten him a boxed set of the most recent Louise Penny Chief Inspector Gamache books. Sergei had learned to read English and a bit about his new home with the help of the cozy mysteries set in Quebec. Alex knew they held a special place in his heart.
“Thank you so much. It is perfect.” Sergei put on his reading glasses to flip through the books.
Even the cats had presents. New sweaters, some catnip toys, and a new cat condo from Sergei that Alex had smugly predicted they would ignore. Sergei simply smirked and sprinkled some catnip on the highest platform.
“That’s cheating!” Alex protested as the cats rolled in the kitty drug, purring and coming within millimeters of falling off the cat tree.
Sergei laughed.
“Keep laughing and no tourtière for you.”
“There’s tourtière?”
“C’est vrai. Would I lie about that?” Alex looked offended.
Sergei stopped laughing. “When did you make that?” He looked around the room as if his favorite meat pie would suddenly appear in some corner.
“I didn’t,” Alex confessed. “My mother made it and mailed it frozen special delivery for you.”
“For us.”
Alex rolled his eyes and flopped down dramatically onto the couch. “No, she said specifically for you. I think she likes you best.”
Sergei nodded seriously and pulled Alex’s feet up onto his lap. “I am her favorite. I shoveled most snow.”
Alex tried to yank his feet away, but Sergei grabbed them tight. He settled for poking his toes into Sergei’s ribs. “You were like two feet taller than I was and much stronger.”
“Let me make it up to you. Do you want me to read to you?”
Alex crossed his arms over his chest with an exaggerated sigh. “It’s the least you can do.”
Sergei pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and covered Alex, tucking the edges tightly around him. “There. Close your eyes and I will tell you a story.”
He opened his new book and started to read. Alex was asleep within ten minutes.
18
Sergei
After the night of blowjobs, as Sergei liked to think of it, there hadn’t seemed to be much point in them sleeping in separate beds. He hadn’t realized how much he would love having someone next to him at night. No, not just someone, Alex.
He loved waking up next to him, if not exactly with him. He loved knowing Alex would be there when he came home.
The team might not have had games for a few days, but the obligations didn’t stop and Sergei was in and out a lot. He felt bad leaving Alex without a car.
Alex would never let Sergei buy him a car directly, but maybe if he bought one under the guise of getting a second, more reasonable car, Alex would consent to drive it. It wouldn’t be a total lie, driving the Mercedes only a few miles a day in downtown Seattle traffic got maddening. On a clear day, you could see forever, as the song went, and Sergei had to fight the urge to head for the hills himself.
He loosened his tie as he walked into the kitchen from the garage. Kicking off his shoes, he made a mental note to get a shoe rack. He’d made the same note a thousand times. Maybe he would mention it to Alex. He was much better at remembering things like that.
He was so ready to be home. The PR team had arranged for the team to make an appearance at an end of the year ceremony for some charity or another. Sergei felt bad for not remembering which one, but after all these years, they tended to blend. Like most of the players, Sergei had set up a fund to donate to his personal favorite charities. He paid much closer attention to those.
“Alex?” he called, stripping off his jacket and tie and hanging them on the back of a kitchen chair. The house was dark and quiet except for the low murmur of the television coming from the study.
They spent most of their time in that room, which was funny considering it was the smallest and darkest room in the house. But there was something so comforting about it. It was as if it were their secret cave where they could shut out the rest of the world, and who they were expected to be out in it, and just be themselves.
Torvill stopped eating and mrrowed up at Sergei. She wound herself around his legs, so he picked her up, nuzzling her head as she purred and rubbed against him. He carried her into the study.
The view from the doorway stopped Sergei in his track and made his heart grow three sizes like the Grinch in the movie Alex made him watch every year.
It wasn’t anything special or shocking, on the contrary it was the sheer domesticity of the scene that took his breath away.
Flames danced in the fireplace and colored lights twinkled in the tree. A spill of light from the table lamp illuminated Alex sprawled out on the couch. Wearing one of Sergei’s old t-shirts and the green and red plaid flannel pants he’d designated his Christmas pajamas years ago, he was eating Chinese food directly from the containers and watching television. His hair was piled in a messy bun on top of his head.
Sergei knew the shirt Alex was wearing was of his favorites to sleep in. Worn soft with age, it said Shut Your Five Hole on the front and had Sergei’s last name printed across the back. Sergei loved when Alex wore his t-shirts. And seeing his name and number plastered across Alex’s back made Sergei happy in a very possessive way.
“Where do you keep getting these from?” Alex had asked one day after Sergei had dropped off a half-dozen more shirts. “Do you buy them too small on purpose?”
Truthfully, sometimes he did. But he would go to his grave without telling Alex that. “The fans they send to me. Equipment reps, vendors.” It wasn’t a lie. “Everybody has shirt or water bottle or hat.” The hats he kept to give out to fans.
“They don’t know how massive you are?” Alex shad spread his hands to illustrate the width of Sergei’s chest.
“Maybe I look smaller on TV?”
“Maybe,” Alex had reluctantly conceded
, eyeing Sergei suspiciously.
Now, on the TV, a woman and her mother argued about whether or not the wedding dress made her look like a tramp. Though he might have phrased it more delicately, Sergei found himself agreeing with the mother that, yes, the dress was a little trampy.
Torvill meowed and jumped from his arm. The soft thump of her hitting the ground got Alex’s attention. A smile lit up his face when he saw Sergei.
Sergei’s day had been full of celebrities and professional athletes from several different Seattle teams. He’d been interviewed and photographed until spots floated in front of his eyes from the barrage of flashes.
But this, coming home to his best friend in the house they shared, was by far the best part of his day. Crossing the room in two long strides, he leaned over the arm of the couch to kiss Alex.
“Hey,” Alex said. “You’re back early. I didn’t expect you until later.”
Sergei sat on the couch. “I leave early. Pretend I have big headache and have to go home.”
“Was it that bad?”
Sergei shrugged. “Would have been better with you there. But when I ask, coach say no dates, no girlfriend, no boyfriend, no spouse. He say next time. So, I come home because I want to see you more.”
Alex sat up straight. “You asked the coach if I could come?”
“Yes?” Why was Alex so surprised?
“Because I’m your boyfriend?” Alex covered his mouth with his hand and tilted his head to look at Sergei. “You told the coach I was your boyfriend and that you wanted to bring me as your date.”
Sergei couldn’t read the look on Alex’s face, but there was no point in lying now. He knew it was too early for him to call Alex his boyfriend. Alex wasn’t ready. He was an idiot. “I am sorry. I should not have assumed. I am not rushing you. I promise.” To his surprise, Alex looked like he was trying to hold back tears. Now Sergei felt really bad. “I am sorry.” He started to stand up.
“No, no!” Alex threw his legs over Sergei to stop him from getting up. “I just…aren’t you nervous about being out to the team, about saying you are dating a man? It might not be the safest thing to do.”
