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The sounds of the Raider's goal horn and Kerkenkraft 400 blared through the speakers of Cliff's phone jolting him from his sleep. He needs to get up, he needs to start his game day routine. Get up, go for a run, get in an hour on the weights, make himself breakfast, review those tapes LeClaire sent him of Dykstra and Chouinard, he needs to shower, and get dressed in a game day suit before joining the rest of the team for the bus ride to TD Garden. But what Cliff really wants is to roll over and spend ten more minutes curled around Shane. And he can do that.
He rolls over expecting to find his boyfriend still asleep, but instead finds that the left side of his massive bed is empty and his slate gray sheets are cool to the touch. Cliff furrows his brows, not even opening his eyes, trying to figure out where Shane could have gone. He knows that Shane thrives off routine, that he loves routine, but in the two months they have been together Shane has never willingly gotten out of bed before six in the morning because he believes in the power of getting a solid eight hours of sleep.
Shane has a routine to ensure that he gets an optimal eight to nine hours of sleep.
So he can't think of a single reason that Shane isn't in bed with him, unless meeting Cliff's entire family yesterday had actually been to much and scared his boyfriend away. Which seemed highly unlikely because Shane had seemed like he genuinely enjoyed himself yesterday, hell Cliff had watched his mom, sister, and boyfriend experience a hockey induced, full on mind-meld while discussing this season's Hoarfrost's team roster.
Cliff's brain still isn't fully online, but he thinks he hears movement somewhere in the distance of his apartment, and he thinks he might be hallucinating because he is pretty sure he can smell maple syrup. It's what finally what convinces Cliff to drag himself out of bed to investigate the source of the scent and it's accompanying noises.
Cliff wasn't prepared for the scene he would find in his kitchen at six in the morning.
There was Shane making breakfast wearing nothing but a pair of tiny white briefs and a familiar blue hoodie. And fuck if the sight of Shane bent over Cliff's kitchen counter, reading something on his phone, didn't do something for him, but the sight of Shane in that hoodie stirred up something primal and possessive in him. Cliff crossed the padded across the kitchen silently, unintentionally sneaking up on his boyfriend, making him jump a little when Cliff wrapped his arms around Shane's middle.
"Good morning." Cliff rumbled, his voice low and husky from sleep as he pressed his body against Shane's as tightly as possible.
"Apparently." Shane replied teasingly with a little bit of a laugh, grinding his hips backwards against Cliff's erection, making him groan into Shane's ear.
"Are you wearing my shirt?" Cliff asks, and it's a stupid fucking question. He knows that Shane is wearing his shirt. It's his last name is emblazoned across Shane's shoulders right now. But Cliff can't resist the urge to tease Shane a little bit.
"Obviously." Shane replied dryly, still grinding his ass against his hard on mindlessly. "Now go away and go on your run, I should have breakfast done by the time you get back." Shane ordered, using his own bulk to attempt to shake Cliff off, but he just wrapped his arms more tightly around Shane refusing to be moved. He ground his hips forward making Shane gasp and shudder in his arms. He hooked his chin over Shane's shoulder, and looked down at what Shane had been so intently reading when Cliff walked in. It was a recipe for crêpes, if Cliff wasn't so turned on, he would be feeling a very different feeling that was much more soft and gooey.
"What if I'd rather eat something else for breakfast? Cliff asked, his voice low and rumbling as he continued the slow suggestive grind of their hips.
"My ass is not a healthy or balanced breakfast Mon loup." Shane replied dryly and fuck that should absolutely not turn Cliff on the way it does. "Besides you are the one with a no pre-game orgasm superstition."
Fuck! Shane is right, of course, he does have a strict no pre-game orgasm rule. He has never allowed himself to even masturbate for a solid twenty-four to forty-eight hours before a game because it makes him clearer, sharper, more aggressive. It's never been a hardship for him to go without an orgasm for a day or two before, but he's also never been in a serious relationship before. He's also never had Shane Hollander in his kitchen making him breakfast before a game before.
"Who says I have to have an orgasm this morning?" He asked, using his hold on Shane to maneuver him into facing Cliff.
"What did you have in mind?" Sane replied with a teasing grin as he wrapped his arms around Cliff's shoulders, tilting his chin up just enough to be an invitation for a kiss. Cliff didn't need to be asked twice, he tilted his own head forward capturing Shane's lips with his own. He didn't waste time with keeping the kiss sweet or slow. He slipped his tongue into Shane's mouth, using it to draw Shane's tongue into his own mouth. He let one of his hands drop down from Shane's waist, to cup Shane's cock through the tight, white fabric of his skimpy briefs, massaging it.
Cliff eagerly swallowed Shane's moan as he continued stroking his boyfriend's erection through the cotton fabric, working it until he can feel the front becoming damp with precum and Shane is panting in his mouth and writhing in his arms.
"Can I blow you?" Cliff asked, still stroking Shane's cock. It's not really want Cliff wants right now now. Shane looks so god damn gorgeous right now with his soulful brown eyes closed and his head tipped backwards in pleasure. His plush pink lips were parted as he let out breathy moans that went straight to Cliff's cock making it throb in his shorts. His skin had the barest hint of a blush that made his freckles stand out even more and it makes Cliff want to pull both their cocks out and take them both in his hand and stroke their cocks until they cum all over his hand and each others stomach.
The possessive caveman part of his brain also really wants to bend Shane over the counter so that he can enjoy the sight of Shane wearing Cliff's last name across his shoulder's while Cliff fucks him. But that can wait till later, after the Raiders match against Ottawa that afternoon. Maybe Cliff can convince Shane to wear this shirt to the match. But that's also a later thought. Right now he wants to suck his boyfriend's cock until Shane cums down his throat.
"Yeah, okay." Shane moaned and Cliff didn't waste anymore time. He dropped to his knees in front of Shane pulling out his boyfriend's cock. Normally Cliff likes to take his time to tease Shane, to really worship him. But he is to keyed up for that right now, and if only one of them is going to cum this morning then Cliff had better make sure it counts.
He sucked Shane to the base, bobbing his head quickly. He uses one hand to stroke Shane's cock in time with his mouth, making sure no part of Shane remains unstimulated. It's wet, and sloppy, and this is spit covering his chin making a mess of Cliff's short beard. But Shane is making the hottest moans from above him. Shane mutters filthy praise in French while pulling Cliff's hair with one hand, while his other clutches the counter for support.
The kitchen had quickly become filled with the sounds of Shane's low moans and the wet noises of his cock hitting the back of Cliff's throat as he worships his boyfriend's cock and Cliff loves it. Although a small part of him thinks that maybe blowing Shane in the kitchen first thing in the morning had been a bad idea because his cock is trapped inside his thin gym shorts, hard enough to pound nails, and leaking like he's a horny teenager.
Cliff buried his face in the the well groomed black curls of Shane's groin, moaning around his cock. He used his free hand to clutch the thick swell of Shane's muscular ass to keep from giving into the temptation to reach down and fist his own cock. Cliff has always loved this, being on his knees, using his mouth to pleasure his partners, but it has never been this good. He's so close that he thinks he could come from a still breeze or—
"Fuck baby," Cliff moaned pulling his mouth away from Shane's cock when his boyfriend gave his hair a particularly hard tug, "I really need you to not do that right now." His hips jerked mindlessly as his cock spurted out another bead of precum. God he really might cum in his pants just from having his hair pulled while sucking Shane's cock.
"Sorry." Shane panted apologetically, loosening his grip on Cliff's messy black waves, running his fingers through them with more tenderness than is expected for a morning quickie, before placing his hands on Cliff's shoulders. "Do you need to stop?" He asked breathlessly, moving like he was about to pull away from Cliff. Instead of answering Cliff used his hold on Shane to tug him back into place and wrapped his lips back around his cock swallowing it down to the root.
"Fuck!" Shane groaned loudly, clutching Cliff's shoulder, digging his nails into his skin deep enough that he hopes they leave marks, that they break skin. His moans grow louder, increasing in pitch and tone as Cliff swiped his tongue over the head of his cock, licking away the copious amounts of precum leaking from it, moaning from the taste.
"Gonna cum." Shane gasped, his hips rolling as Cliff bobbed even faster until finally Shane came down his throat with a loud drawn out moan. He swallowed every drop of his boyfriend's cum.
Cliff didn't stand up right away, remaining on his knees, keeping Shane in his mouth until Shane pulled away with a soft whine from over stimulation. He tugged Cliff back up to his feet going in for a kiss. It didn't last long before Cliff had to pull away, he was to keyed up and if he didn't stop kissing Shane he was going to cum in his pants.
"Fuck." Cliff moaned, his voice rough from the blow job he'd just given.
"Doin okay, Mon loup?" Shane teased, leaning in and pressing a quick kiss against Cliff's lips.
"There isn't a shower cold enough for how I'm doin right now." He grumbled making Shane laugh, before swatting at him.
"Hit the weights or something so I can make breakfast for you." Shane said pushing Cliff away. He allowed himself to be pushed out of his own kitchen, if only so he didn't give into temptation to bend Shane over the counter and make him cum a second time this morning.