Patrick gets shit, sometimes, from other doms. Usually it’s chirps from rival teams, just trying to get under his skin. In the room, it’s mostly good-natured teasing from one of the new guys, someone who hasn’t been around long enough to know better. It’s understandable, though. He and Jonny are private about their relationship, way more so than most couples, even couples in the NHL. Everyone tends to assume it’s because Jonny must be a “difficult” sub; how could he not be, with how bossy he is on the ice? He never stands down to anyone, circling opposing doms on the ice, throwing his gloves off and fighting if they piss him off too much. Jonny never kneels in public, doesn’t wear a collar, doesn’t call Patrick ‘sir’ or avert his eyes when they disagree. It’s all understandable, and yet...
“That’s so good, baby,” Pat murmurs, threading his fingers through Jonny’s hair, stroking it gently off his forehead. Jonny leans into the touch, bowing his head. His posture doesn’t slip an inch, though, a slight arch still in his back that accentuates his perfect ass. Jonny sighs contentedly as the pressure in Patrick’s touch increases, and Patrick knows he’s about thirty seconds from melting, would already be letting Patrick take more of his weight, except Patrick hasn’t told him that it was ok, yet.
‘Difficult,’ Patrick thinks, rolling his eyes internally. Jonny is the sweetest sub he’s ever known. When they first got together, Patrick was prepared for Jonny to be hard work. They’d never really talked about their relationships or hook-ups before; Jonny had always kept the details to himself, and proper decorum meant that Patrick couldn’t ask him, so Patrick was left working with assumptions and stereotypes.
He had been expecting Jonny to be a total brat on that first date, likely to fight him every inch of the way. He even took Jonny to a non-dynamic restaurant on purpose, because he didn’t want to make things awkward and emphasize their biology. When the waiter came around to take their orders, he gestured at Jonny to make his selection. Instead, Jonny deferred to him, letting Patrick order for them both. He blushed lightly when Patrick took a chance and started playing footsie with him, running one socked foot up Jonny’s shin under the table. When Patrick ordered dessert and it was served with two spoons, he was about to hand one to Jonny so that he could serve himself, but in the dim light of the restaurant, Jonny’s eyes looked huge and hopeful. Patrick scooped a serving of creme brulee into his spoon, lifting it towards Jonny’s mouth. He didn’t hesitate at all, leaning forward to let Patrick feed it to him. When he raised his eyes again, they were dark and glassy, and his words were slightly slurred when he told Patrick how good it tasted.
Patrick hustled them out of there, after that, leaving several hundred dollars in cash rather than wait for the check. He snuck an arm around Jonny’s waist on the way out, braced for Jonny to shrug him off, but Jonny leaned into him, letting Patrick bear his weight in a way he never did when they were traveling for the team. Jonny usually wouldn’t even let anyone carry his gear, not even when they were hazing the call-ups into carrying everyone’s bags, but here he was, trusting Patrick to keep him upright and steady. It was a heady realization, one that had Patrick’s chest filling with pride and the promise to earn the trust that Jonny was giving him.
Once, when they were rookies, Patrick had tried to open his car door for Jonny, still trying to practice the chivalry that his parents had drilled into him when it came to subs. Jonny had laughed out loud at him before shouldering him out of the way, using his bulk in a way that was rare for a sub, shaking his head as he opened his own door. That was the last time he tried to be a gentleman for Jonny.
Tonight, though, with Jonny acting every inch the interested sub, looking just a few purposeful touches away from sliding right into subspace while they walked back to the garage, Patrick decided to take another chance. He walked Jonny to the passenger door, glancing up at his face to look for any signs of dismay. Jonny’s expression was relaxed, though, pupils still wide enough that it was difficult to see his usual deep brown. Patrick kept a hand on the small of Jonny’s back while he opened the door, and then pushed his luck even further by offering Jonny his hand as he climbed into the Hummer. Jonny accepted it gracefully, steadying his weight on Patrick as he stepped up and settled into the seat.
“Thank you,” he murmured, voice pitched low and deep, a tone Patrick had never heard out of him.
“Of course, sweetheart,” Patrick replied, the endearment slipping out carelessly. ‘Shit,’ he thought, immediately kicking himself for getting familiar too quickly. But Jonny’s eyes fluttered closed, flush rising in his cheeks again as he relaxed further into the seat. Patrick hesitated for just a moment before deciding to go for it, grabbing the seat belt above Jonny’s shoulder and pulling it down. He buckled it firmly in place and then went one step further, tugging on it to test the give. Jonny made a satisfied little noise in his throat at the protective gesture, which lit Patrick up inside. He walked around to his side of the car, taking a few deep breaths to center himself before he hauled himself up into the driver’s seat.
Jonny’s eyes were half-lidded when Patrick glanced over at him. He focused on maneuvering the Hummer out of the garage and into traffic, but as soon as it was safe to drop a hand from the steering wheel, he did, placing it gently on Jonny’s knee. Jonny made that same satisfied noise again, this one almost like a rumbling purr. Patrick tightened his grip, stroking small circles into Jonny’s inner thigh, alternating with whisper-light touches that slowly worked closer and closer to Jonny’s hardening cock.
At every red light and stop sign, Patrick looked at Jonny, not even trying to hide it. He was waiting for a sign of discomfort, hesitation, anything to tell him to slow down or pull back. But Jonny looked looser each time, legs sprawling open, hands curling into fists at his sides. He was obviously trying to be still and not touch himself or Patrick, and Patrick was struck by just how well-behaved Jonny was being. If he were any other sub, Patrick would be pouring out praise as they drove, maybe starting to talk dirty, telling Jonny what he had in store for him when they got back to Patrick’s apartment. The fact that it was Jonny had overridden the fact that he was a sub, but based on how the night was going, Patrick had obviously let his assumptions lead him astray. Now that he realized it, though, Patrick was determined to fix it.
“Doing so well, baby,” Patrick said, fingers dancing over Jonny’s inseam. “You’re being so good, so perfect. Nice and easy for me, aren’t you, honey?” Jonny moaned at that, hips thrusting up and groaning louder when they caught on the restraint of the seat belt. “Does that feel good, all bound up in my car with my hand on your cock?”
“Yes, sir,” came the whimpered reply, and Patrick’s breath caught in his throat. Shit, they hadn’t even negotiated before dinner; Patrick never thought they’d get this far, especially not on the first date. He had to pull it back a little, needed Jonny to be a little more lucid before they actually did anything more than light groping tonight.
It was on the tip of his tongue to start bringing Jonny up; he couldn’t have gotten too deep into subspace yet, but when Patrick looked at him again, Jonny just looked so uncomplicatedly happy. He was the picture of a sub basking in the praise of his dom, mind empty except for that feeling of being owned. Patrick wasn’t used to seeing such a blissful expression on Jonny’s face. He hoped there would be a lot more nights like this in the future, and he wanted Jonny to have this for tonight. He wouldn’t forget to negotiate next time, but he could deal with blue balls for the night, if it kept Jonny looking that relaxed.
He kept his touches soft and calming after that, keeping up a light patter of praise that he didn’t think Jonny was actually hearing. When they got back to his apartment complex, Patrick helped Jonny out of the car and into the lobby of the building. Jonny leaned harder into Patrick now than he had on the way out of the restaurant, and Patrick sucked in a shocked gasp when Jonny nuzzled into his neck as they stood in the elevator. He was ready to gently push Jonny back, anticipating the nuzzling turning into heated kisses, but Jonny seemed satisfied with just the skin-to-skin contact. Patrick could hear him taking deep breaths, could feel Jonny’s lips skate across his neck every few seconds, and it was so easy to reach up and tangle his fingers in Jonny’s hair. Jonny hummed, pleased, and let Patrick take more of his weight as he relaxed further.
The sound of the elevator door opening startled Patrick out of the peaceful headspace he’d fallen into. Doms didn’t have the exact equivalent of subspace, but when the chemistry was particularly intense, the rest of the world could melt away, edges blurring, letting the dom focus all of their attention on their sub. Patrick rarely felt that way, had never made that profound of a connection with anyone, but he felt it now, shaking his head to clear his vision as they stepped out into the hallway.
Jonny followed him into the apartment, movements honey slow and languid.
“Come on, babe,” Patrick urged, taking Jonny’s hand and pulling him towards the master bedroom. Jonny had crashed at his apartment dozens of times over the years, usually making his way to the guest bedroom, or, on one memorable occasion, the pool table in the living room. He’d never slept in Patrick’s bed, though, which gave tonight a new level of importance. As they crossed into the bedroom, Jonny turned to him.
“How do you want me?” he asked, voice coming out a deep timbre that evoked images of bound hands and the intoxicating smell of a leather collar. Before Patrick could summon an appropriate response, Jonny folded at the knees, dropping gracefully down to the floor, crossing his wrists at the small of his back and bowing his head.
Patrick had always thought that when romance novels talked about ‘taking someone’s breath away,’ they were exaggerating. He was wrong. Watching Jonny kneeling for him, Patrick felt like someone had lit a match in his chest, a radiant glow starting in his heart but rapidly spreading through the rest of his body, coursing out with every heartbeat until his whole body was alight with it.
“Sweetheart,” he whispered, unable to break the moment by pitching his voice any louder. “Jonny, we need to talk about this first, baby.” Jonny tilted his chin up towards Patrick but didn’t say anything. “I want to, of course I want you, baby. How could I not?” The words were tumbling out of Patrick’s mouth now. “Want to make you feel so good. As soon as we talk about it, we’ll do anything you want, I promise.”
Jonny seemed to accept that, nodding at Patrick and not fighting back the way Patrick was afraid he might. He didn’t make a move to get up, though, seemingly content to remain on his knees at Patrick’s feet.
“Let’s get you up, honey,” Patrick told him, leaning down and cupping Jonny’s chin, tilting it up towards him. He watched as Jonny gave a full-body shiver, at the touch, the pet name, the position, or maybe a combination of all three. Patrick urged him upwards, and he went willingly enough, powerful quads flexing as he stood smoothly and walked over to the bed, sitting on the edge where Patrick directed him.
Patrick still couldn’t get over how different this whole evening was from what he expected. Jonny was such a sweet sub, going down so easily for him, accepting praise and touch from Patrick like he wanted nothing in the world but to make Patrick happy. There wasn’t a hint of the bull-headed captain who drove him crazy on the ice, but even floating in subspace, Jonny radiated an energy that was purely him.
Patrick stripped him slowly. Just because the evening wasn’t going to end with orgasms didn’t mean that he couldn’t keep teasing Jonny just a little. Patrick unbuttoned Jonny’s dress shirt, starting at the neck and exposing his chest inches at a time. He traced a finger over Jonny’s abs, marveling over the deep cuts of his six-pack. He couldn’t wait to get Jonny into bed properly. He was going to tie Jonny up and then lavish him with kisses, get Jonny so worked up that he was begging for Patrick to stop kissing him and start fucking him. It was going to be delightful.
For now, though, he contented himself with working the shirt off of Jonny’s sculpted shoulders and tossing it aside. He climbed onto the bed and settled behind Jonny, fingers tickling the short hairs at Jonny’s neck before smoothing down and rubbing at his shoulders in a gentle massage. He could tell the moment that Jonny felt Patrick’s hard cock rubbing against his lower back, because he moaned, then, pushing back into Patrick.
“You’re making me so hard, Jonny, being so good for me tonight,” he said, letting his tongue graze over Jonny’s ear as he spoke, sparking another shudder. “So proud of you, Jonny, such a beautiful sub. Just want to take care of you.” Jonny whined, trying to arch back into Patrick harder, but Patrick kept a firm group on his shoulders. “Soon, baby,” he promised. He dragged himself off the bed and knelt down, repeating the process for Jonny’s pants, slowly exposing Jonny’s gorgeous tanned legs. It took all of his considerable willpower not to just keep going, strip off Jonny’s criminally tight boxer briefs, get his mouth around Jonny’s cock, clearly hard and straining at the expensive black material. ‘Soon,’ he promised, himself, as well, as he pushed at Jonny’s chest, gently lowering him down to the bed.
He spooned up behind Jonny, encircling him within his arms. He gave in to temptation and rubbed himself against Jonny’s ass, just once, before whispering a quiet ‘goodnight’ into Jonny’s ear. He was already planning his first scene with Jonny, and his dreams that night were amazing. Waking up with Jonny in his arms, eyes bright and clear, no hint of uncertainty after the previous night, was far better than any dream could have been.