Chapter Text
Are you really going through with this? Glowed at him from his phone screen. It was last text he received from his best friend after he explained the master plan for the night. Hayden set his phone down and stared at his reflection in the club’s bathroom mirror. The game ended an hour ago, so he his face was flushed and his hair was a little askew, but the Boston Bears jersey he wore proudly on his shoulders remained unrumpled.
His plan was flawless. Perfect. He’s been dying to meet Cliff Marleau in person. Hayden grabbed his phone and opened his conversation with Shane. Fuck off. You’re lucky you don’t have to be a puck bunny. Hayden hit send, settling into character as he ran a hand through his unruly post-game hair. His phone buzzed on the bathroom counter.
Neither do you.
That’s what makes it fun. Hayden sent back before shoving his phone in his pocket. He strode back into the club he decided to loiter in for the night. Bears were popular here - the hockey team, not those kinds of guys. Though, Hayden wouldn’t say no if he was propositioned by the right kind of Bear.
He’s reached a new kind of low, going as far as stalking his favorite player on socials to figure out where Cliff Marleau celebrated wins and licked his wounds after losses like tonight. Montreal owned the rink the entire game. Boston could barely keep up. The residual excitement vibrated under Hayden’s skin as he waited with anticipation. His eyes darted around the dance floor, eager for even a glance of his favorite Boston Bear after a game. “Hey,” the bartender said, wiping up a spill from someone’s drink. “Order a drink or waste another seat somewhere else. You’re taking my tips.”
“Vodka neat.” Hayden’s body froze immediately at the sound of the voice. The presence of the body appearing at his shoulder. “My friend will take a double on my tab.” Cliff stood inches away from him, smelling like a dizzying mix of woodsy pine and apricot. He nearly relaxed into Cliff’s chest when the man reached over to pay with his metal AMEX card.
“Oh my god,” Hayden said, remembering himself. He pulled away, hopefully before Cliff noticed the deep inhale to take in his aroma. “You’re Cliff Marleau.”
“I saw you at the game,” Cliff said, leaning casually against the counter. He took the glasses from the bartender and pressed Hayden’s into his hand for him. Hayden flushed at the realization he had actually seen the sign he spent an hour making, hot gluing sequins on poster board and waiting for poster-puff paint to dry. “You had that sign - what did it say?” Cliff clinked their glasses together and raised an eyebrow before Hayden sipped at his vodka. “Fuck me dry, Daddy Marleau?”
Hayden spit out his vodka all over the bar counter. “Sorry!” He exclaimed when the bartender shot him a dirty look. Cliff passed the man a fifty when he wiped up the mess. Hayden swung back the rest of his drink and swallowed thickly. He ran a hand through his hair, cheeks flushed under the glow of the LED lights, shaking his head clear. “No it - uh, it was - I’d suck you for a puck.”
“Is the offer still on the table?”
Holy fuck. Hayden’s thoughts went wild. He never thought this would really happen. Not in a million years. “You’re not serious.” Hayden said, nearly stumbling into Cliff’s chest.
“Deadly,” Cliff said, pulling Hayden close enough for him to get another whiff of the player’s cologne. “But the puck’s not in my pocket. I’d have to take you back to my hotel room.” The bass of the music blasting through the speakers vibrated in Hayden’s chest.
“Do you want to dance first?” Hayden asked hopefully, eyes lighting up with excitement as he glanced between Cliff and the dance floor. He tried to not pay attention to the way Cliff’s hand felt on his waist, a possessive claim to his body.
Hayden gleefully dragged his all-star hotshot to the dance floor. He rocked his hips against Cliff’s body, unashamedly throwing himself at the pro hockey player. The alcohol helped loosen any residual nerves Hayden had about finally seeing his favorite player in person.
Not only meeting, getting to feel him. Touch him. Hold him. Cliff’s hands wandered Hayden’s body like he owned it. If the last name across Hayden’s back, and the jersey he was wearing had anything to say about the matter Marleau already did.
The heat from the club buzzed comfortably under Hayden’s skin. The dance floor was packed enough for them to need to press together. That’s what he told himself as he threw himself at Cliff, straddling the man’s firmly cut thighs, his lap fitted to Hayden almost perfectly. Cliff held him like he was weightless, floating together on the dance floor. Hayden’s hips moved, grinding on Cliff as he eagerly pressed his face into Cliff’s shoulders, his neck, taking in everything he could.
There was no telling if he’d be able to experience this ever again. He hoped he would. Fuck, he was getting so hard grinding into Cliff's thighs like a bitch in heat.
By the time Hayden lost track of the number of songs they were dancing through Cliff dragged him through to the back of the club. “Where are we going?” Hayden asked, laughing as he followed Marleau eagerly. He held Hayden’s hand tightly, pulling him along, stopping every now and then to kiss him against the wall.
They stumbled outside, the chilly Montreal air cut through the booze and the buzz, sobering Hayden enough for him to question if this was still a good idea. If sucking off his favorite hockey player ever was worth the risk of - of the danger. Of getting caught. Being in trouble. Cliff must’ve sensed his hesitation, because he turned and held Hayden’s face in both of his hands. “You can always say no,” Cliff said firmly, eyes searching Hayden’s face for any doubt or hesitation.
Hayden’s hands wrapped around Cliff’s wrists, guiding one hand against his lips to slide his lips around the man’s thumb. He curled his tongue around it, sucking briefly before letting it slip free. Hayden met Cliff’s gaze, eyes soft and adoring, but firm and sure. “I could never say no to you, Clifford Marleau.”
A black Mercedes pulled up, Uber sticker proudly displayed in the windshield. Cliff opened the backseat for Hayden. “After you,” he said, following Hayden into the car.
The ride back to Cliff’s hotel was faster than Hayden expected. He stumbled out of the car first, waiting for Cliff to follow suit. “Holy shit,” Hayden said as he took in the larger-than-necessary hotel room. Cliff closed the door behind him, setting the deadbolt just in case. “They really do put you guys up in the nicer hotel rooms.” Cliff let out a loud laugh, then quickly crossed to pull Hayden in for a deep kiss on the lips.
Hayden couldn’t help but melt into it. Everything about tonight had been so incredibly perfect. Intoxicating. If they weren’t careful, he’d want to do it every city they played in. “Fuck,” Hayden gasped when Marleau finally broke off the kiss for air, leaving him panting.
“That good, huh? I bet my dick will taste better than my tongue, sweetheart.” Cliff said, one hand in Hayden’s hair. Hayden moved to pull off his shirt, but Cliff stopped him. “Ah - I didn’t say you could take this off did I?” He said, pulling down on the hem of the jersey. It was his jersey, Marelau’s. Hayden had purchased it for tonight to surprise him. It wasn’t supposed to be part of their game.
“No.”
“No, Sir.”
“No, Sir,” Hayden leaned in to kiss Cliff again, seeking comfort from his Bear. Cliff’s fingers tugged at Hayden’s hair with a soft tsking sound.
“It’s a good thing I found you and not one of the other guys,” Cliff said, amusement clear in his tone, heat flickering to life in his eyes. There you are, Hayden thought gleefully, recognizing the expression on Cliff’s face. “They’re not as nice as me.” He released Hayden from his grasp, leaving him exposed and alone as he drifted into the bedroom.
Hayden scampered after Cliff, eager to see what was in store of him.