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A blast of cold air followed Jack into the bar, and he saw a few girls glance over his way, tugging their skirts down over their bare legs. He ducked his head and kept walking, weaving his way through the crowd until he reached the tables in the back.
“Hey,” he said. He recognized Ro-Bear’s jacket slung over the back of the only empty chair, but Jack easily spotted him on the dance floor, looming head and shoulders over everyone else, so he didn’t feel bad about sitting down.
“Sup, Zimmermann,” Parkour said, grinning at him and slapping their hands together.
“You found the place alright, then?” Sonny said, sliding a beer over to him.
“Oh, that is just unfair,” Kent said, and Jack was painfully endeared by his pout and crossed arms where he sat wedged between Parkour and Sonny in the booth. “Zimms, help a bro out - I’m finally somewhere that I can legally drink, and these tools keep ordering me these awful pink drinks, it’s the least cool thing in the entire world.”
“A, you love the pink drinks and you know it,” Sonny said.
“And B, Zimmermann is a model citizen, don’t ask him to contribute to the delinquency of a minor, his little heart would break,” Parkour said.
Jack grinned and took a sip from his beer. “Sorry, Parse.”
“Uncool!” Kent said. “The last shot had, like, whipped cream on it. Goddamn liquid cupcake. I just want a beer, fuck.”
“Yeah, the whining is really convincing us of your emotional maturity,” Sonny deadpanned.
“I’m not whining,” Kent whined. “C’mon, Zimms. You know you want to.” A smirk quirked his mouth, too fast for anyone else to catch, but Jack saw and pressed his lips together.
Hard to deny that, he admitted to himself, and made a show of heaving a sigh and rising. “I’m getting my own drink. We’ll see how nice I’m feeling when I get there, kid.”
“Spineless,” Parkour called after him.
“Thank you!” Kent said, beaming at him.
By the time he got back, Parkour had vanished somewhere into the crowd and Ro-Bear had reclaimed his seat. Jack slid into place next to Kent and passed him a beer.
“Thank you,” Kent repeated, lower this time, eyes intent on Jack’s as he sipped from the bottle, throat working as he swallowed.
Jack held his gaze, only breaking it when Ro-Bear nudged him under the table.
“Didn’t see you come in,” he said to Jack, “but man, I am about to be your best fuckin’ friend. See that girl over there?” He pointed into the crowd, and Jack followed the path with his eyes. “She’s been asking about you all night. Hard ten, man, you are so very welcome.”
“Eh,” Jack said.
“Eh?” Ro-Bear said, gaping at him in comical disbelief. “What the fuck is eh ?”
“What I wouldn’t give to walk in his shoes for a day,” Sonny said, shaking his head.
Jack shrugged.
“That girl is not an eh, that girl is a - I hate you sometimes, you know that?” Ro-Bear said, also shaking his head. He drained the last of his beer.
“I didn’t realize you were having so much trouble getting it in,” Kent drawled. He set his chin on his hand and smirked at Ro-Bear. “Wanna talk about it?”
“Aw, fuck off,” Ro-bear said, making a face. “You two beauty queens can get bent.”
Sonny turned to look at the girl. “She looks kind of like Parse’s sister,” he mused. “Only… bigger tits.”
“Wow, do I not like the direction this conversation is going,” Kent said. “You say another word about Mags and I’m taking slapshot practice on your nuts.”
Jack sighed. “Yes, that girl is a hard ten. I’m just not looking to pick up tonight. Can we move on?”
“You’re crazy,” Ro-Bear said. “If I looked like you -”
“Yeah, Ro-Bear, we all know,” Sonny said. “You’d smash your way through the puck bunnies of North America like the goddamn black plague.”
“She asked about him like six times!” Ro-Bear said. “The words ‘I bet he’s got great hands’ came out of her mouth, I shit you not.”
“Alright, alright,” Jack said, irritated and wanting to change the subject. “I’ll find her later. Can we please move on?”
“How’s your thigh, Ro-Bear?” Sonny said, proving he was only a shithead about 80% of the time. “I appreciate the block, but next time try to use your glove, yeah?”
“Looks like a Jackson Pollock down there,” Ro-Bear said.
“I sincerely doubt that,” Sonny said. “You - alright, alright, I’m moving.” He pulled an exaggerated grimace, massaging his side, and got out of the booth to give Kent room to slide out. “Brat.”
“If you’re getting another drink, get me a -” Ro-Bear started.
“Nah, I feel like dancing,” Kent said. “Maybe Ms. Hard Ten’s feeling open-minded tonight.”
Jack shot him a sharp look, but Kent was avoiding his gaze. “Good luck with that,” Jack said.
“Thanks,” Kent said, and swaggered off into the crowd.
Jack leaned back and picked up Kent’s abandoned beer, taking a long drink.
Jack was still nursing his first beer when Jonesy collapsed into the booth next to him. “Dude,” he said, very solemnly.
“It’s that time of the night already, then?” Jack said, smiling at him. “Seems a bit early today.”
Jonesy waved one hand loosely. “Time zone difference. I’m running behind.”
“While I respect the attempt, you seem to have a fundamental lack of understanding of how time zones work,” Jack said.
“Huh?” Jonesy said.
“It’s eight in Vegas,” Jack said.
“I’m on Greenwich time, motherfucker,” Jonesy said. “Talk Parse to me.”
“Parse?” Jack said, eyebrows raised.
Jonesy sighed, uncharacteristically serious. “Look, we both know - we all know - if you were here two years ago, you’d be wearing the C, not him. But that’s not on him.”
“Okay…?” Jack said, genuinely confused now.
“He’s a baby, but he’s a good baby. He’s our baby. You can’t, like - he’s a good captain, alright?” Jonesy said. “He takes care of us. S’a big job! And he’s so little, you know?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jack said honestly. “Have I said something to make you think…?”
“No, no,” Jonesy said, frowning. “But you watch him like - like you don’t think he can do it. Like he needs looking after. And he can do it. He’s good at it. He’s a baby, but he’s our captain. You know?”
“That’s not how I watch him,” Jack murmured.
“Huh?” Jonesy said.
“Thanks for the input,” Jack said, louder. “I’ll think about it.”
“Cool,” Jonesy said, evidently satisfied by this. “Wanna play some pool?”
Jack shrugged, then noticed Kent slipping away from Ms. Hard Ten and heading away. “Gotta take a piss first. Later?”
“Sure sure,” Jonesy said, bobbing his head in a nod.
Jack made his way towards the bathroom.
Inside, he was pleased to find that it was a single stall, locking the door behind him before he looked up. Kent was leaning against the sink and smirking at him like the giant asshole he was.
“You looked like you were enjoying yourself out there,” Jack said coolly, approaching Kent and stopping a scant few inches away, hands braced against the sink on either side of his body.
Kent shrugged up at him. “Guess she likes my hands well enough,” he said.
“Guess so,” Jack said. He palmed the bulge in Kent’s pants gently, grinding with the heel of his hand. “You seem to like her well enough too. She get you hard grinding on you like that?”
He wrapped his other hand around the back of Kent’s neck, squeezing. God, he just wanted to mess him up, cover him in bruises all the way up his throat. Wanted Kent on his knees, mouth open, desperate to show Jack who he belonged to.
Kent went gratifyingly pliant in Jack’s hands, shivering against him. He braced himself against the sink behind him with both hands, hips jumping forward into Jack’s hand needily.
“No,” he said, “no, I swear, I was thinking of you, of what you might do to me tonight. Was imagining you following me in here, pinning me against the wall, opening me up with your dick. Wasn’t her, Jack, I swear…”
Jack leaned in, lips hovering close enough to feel Kent’s breath. “Stop,” he said, dropping his hand to Kent’s hip and forcing him to still. “You’ll take what I give you, and that’s it.” He knew Kent was trying to behave, but he couldn’t forget that moments before he had been grinding at another person on the dance floor, smirking at Jack over her shoulder.
“You want my dick tonight, baby?” he asked, rolling his hips forward and letting Kent feel how hard he was getting. “I don’t know if you deserve that, after teasing me like that.” He tightened his grip on Kent’s dick, all the more satisfying with his words still hanging in the air. “Or maybe I should give it to you hard. Make it hurt a little.”
Kent’s mouth fell open, his eyes going glassy. “Whatever you want,” he said, voice strained. “I wouldn’t mind if it hurt, I want your dick, I always - please, Jack.” His knuckles were white from his grip on the sink, muscles locked and trembling.
God, it was insane how far into his head Kent could go in moments like this. Jack had never seen anyone slip into that headspace so easily or stay there so well.
“Baby,” he said, so affectionate and so proud, thumbing at the corner of Kent’s open mouth. “You’d do anything I wanted, wouldn’t you? You’d let me give it to you anywhere I wanted. I bet you want it all the time.”
He closed his mouth over Kent’s and kissed him deep and wet and dirty, tongue fucking inside, before moving his mouth to Kent’s ear. “Ask me nicely,” he whispered.
“Please,” Kent said immediately. “Please let me have your cock, daddy, I’ll be so good for you, I want to be good for you.”
“On your knees,” Jack said.
Kent immediately dropped to his knees, fumbling open the zipper of Jack’s pants and pulling out his cock carefully. Jack wove his fingers through Kent’s hair, tugging his head back slightly, forcing his mouth open that much further.
Kent started slow, just nursing at the head of Jack’s cock, suckling on it and tracing his tongue over the underside where it was the most sensitive. He caught the base with his hand, holding it steady, getting it sloppy wet with spit before he took him deeper.
Jack kept his hand steady on the back of Kent’s head as he took him down, cock nudging at the back of his throat, pressing against the soft give of it. “Stop,” he said, holding him about halfway down on his cock.
He traced the hollow indentation of Kent’s cheek and felt the outline of his cock through it, then moved his hand down to Kent’s throat, holding the underside of it and feeling where Kent was straining to swallow around him. God, it was overwhelming.
“Good boy,” he murmured. “You’re doing so well for me. When I come, you’re going to hold it in your mouth so I can see how good it looks on your tongue before I let you swallow, yeah?”
Kent whined around his cock, turning sloppy and eager when Jack eased up his grip, pumping his fingers over the base where it wouldn’t fit into his mouth, spit coating his chin and hand.
Jack kept their eyes locked when he came, appreciative as ever at how innocent and debauched Kent could look at the same time, like no one else Jack had ever known. That sweet, pink blush, those big eyes, complementing the precome and saliva dripping off his chin…
God, this boy.
Kent caught all of Jack’s come on his tongue and looked up at him, mouth open, showing him the thick seed pooled there. His throat worked with a wet sound as he swallowed, but he didn’t drink any down.
“Keep it open,” Jack said, tugging down Kent’s chin with his thumb. It was one of the hottest fucking things he’d ever seen in his life, almost too much to handle after an orgasm like that.
“Okay,” he said, “swallow.” He pressed his fingertips to Kent’s throat so he could feel it work as he did. “That’s it, good boy.”
It was overwhelming to know that Kent was going to be walking around the bar, talking to their teammates for the rest of the night with Jack’s come inside him.
“I’m going to give you everything you want tonight, baby, back at the hotel, I promise,” he said, tugging Kent to his feet. “Gonna fuck your ass all night, you’re going to be full of my come. But right now, you’re going back out there with the taste of me in your mouth and you’re not going to be able to think about anything else, are you?”
“No, nothing,” Kent promised, little tears glinting at the corners of his eyes. “Promise, daddy.”
“God, you’re so perfect,” Jack muttered, shoving Kent against the sink and lifting his fingers to Kent’s mouth. “Suck, baby. You gotta get ‘em wet for me so I can put them inside you, yeah?”
Kent opened his mouth immediately, sucking two of Jack’s fingers into his mouth. He swirled his tongue wetly around them, holding Jack’s wrist so he could keep his hand still while he bobbed his head up and down. His hips hitched forward, the bulge of his cock straining against his pants.
“Good boy,” Jack praised, dragging his soaking wet fingers out of Kent’s mouth and stroking them over his chin. God, he looked so fucked out already and Jack had hardly touched him yet.
He shoved Kent’s pants and briefs down and off, coaxing one of Kent’s legs up and around his hips, holding him up with one arm around his back. He pressed his wet fingertips to Kent’s hole. “You’re so good for me, aren’t you, baby? God, sweetheart, I’m so lucky I have you.” He eased both his fingers in at the same time, Kent’s ass clutching and squeezing around them like he was trying to draw them as deep inside as he could.
“Thank you, thank you,” Kent said breathily, groaning and tossing his head back. He half slid down the sink, catching himself with both arms to keep from sliding more. “Thank you for letting me have your cock, and your come, thank you for giving me your fingers - thank you, daddy!” He rolled his hips down towards Jack’s hands.
Jack slipped in a third finger. “C’mon, honey, come for me, come on my fingers,” he murmured in Kent’s ear, shoving his fingers in hard, curling them right up against Kent’s prostate. “Come for your daddy, baby.”
He could feel the moment Kent started coming, clamping down so tight on Jack’s fingers he couldn’t even move them, just pressed them relentlessly into his prostate to milk even more come out of him.
Kent wrapped his arms around Jack’s neck, hanging off him like he was upright only from Jack’s arm around his waist. He pressed his face into Jack’s collar. “Fuck me,” he slurred. “Jesus, daddy.”
“You’re so good for me,” Jack said, brushing a kiss over Kent’s temple. He washed his hands behind Kent’s back, keeping one arm around him after and brushing his hair off his sweaty face with the other hand. “You good, baby?”
“‘M good,” Kent said. He rolled his head on his neck. “You know I was only dancing with her because you said -”
“I know,” Jack said. “Shh.” He nuzzled the curve of Kent’s cheekbone with his lips. “I’m not mad.”
“Good,” Kent said. “That mean you’re gonna keep buying me drinks tonight?” He smirked up at Jack. “I know how you get off on that.”
Jack bit down on his lower lip. “Maybe,” he said. “We’ll see.”
Kent snickered. “Yeah, we’ll see,” he mocked. He turned around, checking himself in the mirror as he fixed his clothing. “You didn’t mark me,” he said, seeming surprised and a little disappointed, tracing his fingers over the bare unblemished curve of his throat.
“We have the ESPN shoot on Saturday,” Jack said.
“Oh, fuck, right,” Kent said. “But after that?” He met Jack’s eyes in the mirror.
Jack drew him back against his chest. “After that, yeah.” He pressed a kiss to the top of Kent’s head. “After that, baby, you’re all mine.”