It's About Discipline [Boyle/Prust, NC-17]
Title: It's About Discipline
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Brian Boyle/Brandon Prust
Word Count: ~1,300
Summary: An accidental touch is all it takes for Prust to completely forget his discipline.
Notes: for the prompt "film session" at pass_shoot_porn
Disclaimer: Extremely not true
It's About Discipline
He'd been paying attention-fully focused on the flickering screen for the tape session, hanging on Torts' every critical and constructive word about their play-but when Brandon shifted position on the floor and practically put his hand in Boyler's lap, his focus had shifted to the familiar lump he'd brushed against while trying to get untangled. Their eyes had met for a brief moment, and Brian's smile was equal parts coy and embarrassed. When the PK was over on the tape, and their line left the ice, Brandon shifted again, this time deliberately placing his hand in the gap between Boyle's legs.
"Prust," Boyle gasped softly, practically in Brandon's ear.
Brandon didn't say anything, he just moved his arm closer to Brian and pushed, rubbing against the bulge with his wrist-not the cleanest of techniques, but after a few rubs, there was a distinctive push back and it was obvious his wrist was having the intended effect.
Boyle leaned forward, crowding around Brandon's arm and putting his hand in deeper shadow. "What are you doing?" he whispered.
Brandon turned enough so that Boyler could see his smile, and then he turned his hand, cupping Boyle through his workout shorts.
"We've gotta keep the pressure on," Torts said. "You can't play halfway."
Brandon squeezed Brian's cock in response to emphasize that he's not about to play halfway.
"You're crazy," Boyle breathed.
"You're not telling me to stop," Brandon pointed out. He turned back to the film, trying to catch up to where they were-Torts had skipped ahead a bit, and the line was changing.
"Boyle? Boyle." Torts' eyes landed on them, and Brandon's hand froze for a moment.
"Don't let your size work against you," Torts continued. "You're a big man-a big man," he repeated after a chuckle rippled through the locker room, "and it's an advantage, so keep your discipline."
"Right," Boyle said, louder than he normally would. He pinched Brandon's arm, but his leg dropped open a little more, giving Brandon more access to his junk. Kinky, Boyler, he thought as he rubbed Brian's dick again more firmly.
"Prust," Brian hissed, though this time loud enough to draw Step's attention. He gave them the stink-eye before turning back to the film.
Brandon lightly moved his fingers over Brian's balls. "Hmm?" He turned, looking over his shoulder at Boyle. "You say something?" He squeezed and dragged his hand up, getting a choked off gasp from Brian that was covered by Torts snapping, "Pruster!"
Brandon jerked back around, his hand dropping Brian's prick.
"You also need a reminder about discipline?" Torts asked.
"Uh, no, Coach." Brandon ignored the cheeky comments in his head about Brian teaching him discipline.
"Then keep your mouth shut and listen up." He looked back to his notes and picked up where he'd left off-the power play Cally'd scored on; Brandon and Boyler weren't even on the ice, but the scolding was enough to get Brandon to sit up straight and keep his hands to himself through the rest of the film session.
When the lights came up, Brian had a towel in his lap. "Prick," he muttered.
"That a request?"
Boyle arched his eyebrow and then pulled his bag off the bench, meticulously sorting and stacking his belongings. Brandon snorted; he knew Brian's routine for distracting himself from a hard on.
The other guys started heading out-guys who'd already showered or could wait until they got home; guys heading to the trainer for some work-and Brandon headed towards the shower, tired of waiting for Brian's hard on to relax enough for him to stand. He was about halfway through his shower when DZ shut off his spray and said goodbye. Brandon had a few quiet moments alone before he heard footsteps.
"You forget your special flow shampoo," Brandon teased, facing the spray to rinse his neck and chest.
"No, DZ just finally left." Boyle's voice startled him, and when Brandon turned, Brian pushed him back against the wall, swiftly kneeling and taking Brandon's cock in his mouth.
"Shit! We're in the Garden!" Brandon hissed.
Brian sucked hard, drawing Brandon's cock half full before pulling back to speak. "Didn't bother you when the whole team was in the room."
Brandon chuckled and shrugged, for the first time feeling a little guilty for that. The feeling didn't last long, though, because Brian went down on Brandon again, and this time Boyle ignored Brandon's weak protest that someone could catch them, and he buried his nose in Brandon's short and curlies, his hands on Brandon's ass while he deep throated his teammate.
Brandon leaned his head back, water getting into his open mouth. He fisted Brian's hair, encouraging the blow job despite his protests. They were in the fucking Garden, and this was pretty much the hottest thing Brian had done in their short-lived relationship.
Brian squeezed and then released Brandon's ass with his right hand, and a moment later the sounds of an aggressive hand job drifted to Brandon's ears. The wet slap of skin on skin reminded him of the one time Boyle had fucked him, and the sound of Boyle's balls slapping against his ass-the memory was almost enough to make him come.
"Bri," he gasped, pulling him back by the hair. He pushed back into Brian's willing mouth, groaning when Brian hummed around his shaft. He thrust in again, holding tight to Brian's hair, making sure he knew exactly where Brian was so he wouldn't hurt him-best discipline in the world.
He didn't last long fucking Brian's mouth, listening to the hand job, and thinking about Brian's prick in his ass-but the crash was magnificent, and Brandon came in a flash of white behind his eyes, tugging Brian's hair back so he came partly on Boyler's face. With the cock out of his mouth, Brian groaned roughly, and within a few quick strokes was coming down his leg, the water diluting the thick strands and swirling them down the drain.
Brandon tugged on Brian's face, then his shoulders, and when it was obvious he couldn't get Brian to stand, he dropped to his knees as well and kissed him hard, licking his lips and sliding come into the middle of their kiss. When he finally pulled back, Brandon was breathing harder than he had at practice, more on edge than he'd been before his orgasm.
"And that," Brian said, his voice wrecked, "will give you something to think about the next time you start feeling me up in front of everyone." He tapped Brandon's nose and chuckled warmly.
"That was supposed to teach me a lesson?" Brandon blinked and then laughed. "To not do that?"
Brian squinted, water sliding over his cheek. "I think my message got lost in the middle." He waved it off.
Brandon just laughed again as he struggled to his feet, his legs a little wobbly without the adrenaline shooting through his system. "I'll try to remember the intent of the lesson." He took Brian's hands, pulling him up with him.
"I need a shower," Brian groaned, and then looked up. "Oh, hey, lucky coincidence."
Brandon snorted and then reached over to grab the shampoo. "Bend over, Frankenstein, least I can do after that. Fuck."
Brian grinned-pleased and shy all rolled into one. "Good?"
Brandon lathered up Brian's hair, giving him a good scalp massage as he did so. "Like always," Brandon said softly. He kissed a clean spot on Brian's forehead.
Brian raised his head at the gentle kiss, wrapped his arms around Brandon and kissed him, and if there had been something for Brandon to feel guilty about, he knew he'd been forgiven. The discipline not to do it again? That was a test that would come later.
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Brian Boyle/Brandon Prust
Word Count: ~1,300
Summary: An accidental touch is all it takes for Prust to completely forget his discipline.
Notes: for the prompt "film session" at pass_shoot_porn
Disclaimer: Extremely not true
It's About Discipline
He'd been paying attention-fully focused on the flickering screen for the tape session, hanging on Torts' every critical and constructive word about their play-but when Brandon shifted position on the floor and practically put his hand in Boyler's lap, his focus had shifted to the familiar lump he'd brushed against while trying to get untangled. Their eyes had met for a brief moment, and Brian's smile was equal parts coy and embarrassed. When the PK was over on the tape, and their line left the ice, Brandon shifted again, this time deliberately placing his hand in the gap between Boyle's legs.
"Prust," Boyle gasped softly, practically in Brandon's ear.
Brandon didn't say anything, he just moved his arm closer to Brian and pushed, rubbing against the bulge with his wrist-not the cleanest of techniques, but after a few rubs, there was a distinctive push back and it was obvious his wrist was having the intended effect.
Boyle leaned forward, crowding around Brandon's arm and putting his hand in deeper shadow. "What are you doing?" he whispered.
Brandon turned enough so that Boyler could see his smile, and then he turned his hand, cupping Boyle through his workout shorts.
"We've gotta keep the pressure on," Torts said. "You can't play halfway."
Brandon squeezed Brian's cock in response to emphasize that he's not about to play halfway.
"You're crazy," Boyle breathed.
"You're not telling me to stop," Brandon pointed out. He turned back to the film, trying to catch up to where they were-Torts had skipped ahead a bit, and the line was changing.
"Boyle? Boyle." Torts' eyes landed on them, and Brandon's hand froze for a moment.
"Don't let your size work against you," Torts continued. "You're a big man-a big man," he repeated after a chuckle rippled through the locker room, "and it's an advantage, so keep your discipline."
"Right," Boyle said, louder than he normally would. He pinched Brandon's arm, but his leg dropped open a little more, giving Brandon more access to his junk. Kinky, Boyler, he thought as he rubbed Brian's dick again more firmly.
"Prust," Brian hissed, though this time loud enough to draw Step's attention. He gave them the stink-eye before turning back to the film.
Brandon lightly moved his fingers over Brian's balls. "Hmm?" He turned, looking over his shoulder at Boyle. "You say something?" He squeezed and dragged his hand up, getting a choked off gasp from Brian that was covered by Torts snapping, "Pruster!"
Brandon jerked back around, his hand dropping Brian's prick.
"You also need a reminder about discipline?" Torts asked.
"Uh, no, Coach." Brandon ignored the cheeky comments in his head about Brian teaching him discipline.
"Then keep your mouth shut and listen up." He looked back to his notes and picked up where he'd left off-the power play Cally'd scored on; Brandon and Boyler weren't even on the ice, but the scolding was enough to get Brandon to sit up straight and keep his hands to himself through the rest of the film session.
When the lights came up, Brian had a towel in his lap. "Prick," he muttered.
"That a request?"
Boyle arched his eyebrow and then pulled his bag off the bench, meticulously sorting and stacking his belongings. Brandon snorted; he knew Brian's routine for distracting himself from a hard on.
The other guys started heading out-guys who'd already showered or could wait until they got home; guys heading to the trainer for some work-and Brandon headed towards the shower, tired of waiting for Brian's hard on to relax enough for him to stand. He was about halfway through his shower when DZ shut off his spray and said goodbye. Brandon had a few quiet moments alone before he heard footsteps.
"You forget your special flow shampoo," Brandon teased, facing the spray to rinse his neck and chest.
"No, DZ just finally left." Boyle's voice startled him, and when Brandon turned, Brian pushed him back against the wall, swiftly kneeling and taking Brandon's cock in his mouth.
"Shit! We're in the Garden!" Brandon hissed.
Brian sucked hard, drawing Brandon's cock half full before pulling back to speak. "Didn't bother you when the whole team was in the room."
Brandon chuckled and shrugged, for the first time feeling a little guilty for that. The feeling didn't last long, though, because Brian went down on Brandon again, and this time Boyle ignored Brandon's weak protest that someone could catch them, and he buried his nose in Brandon's short and curlies, his hands on Brandon's ass while he deep throated his teammate.
Brandon leaned his head back, water getting into his open mouth. He fisted Brian's hair, encouraging the blow job despite his protests. They were in the fucking Garden, and this was pretty much the hottest thing Brian had done in their short-lived relationship.
Brian squeezed and then released Brandon's ass with his right hand, and a moment later the sounds of an aggressive hand job drifted to Brandon's ears. The wet slap of skin on skin reminded him of the one time Boyle had fucked him, and the sound of Boyle's balls slapping against his ass-the memory was almost enough to make him come.
"Bri," he gasped, pulling him back by the hair. He pushed back into Brian's willing mouth, groaning when Brian hummed around his shaft. He thrust in again, holding tight to Brian's hair, making sure he knew exactly where Brian was so he wouldn't hurt him-best discipline in the world.
He didn't last long fucking Brian's mouth, listening to the hand job, and thinking about Brian's prick in his ass-but the crash was magnificent, and Brandon came in a flash of white behind his eyes, tugging Brian's hair back so he came partly on Boyler's face. With the cock out of his mouth, Brian groaned roughly, and within a few quick strokes was coming down his leg, the water diluting the thick strands and swirling them down the drain.
Brandon tugged on Brian's face, then his shoulders, and when it was obvious he couldn't get Brian to stand, he dropped to his knees as well and kissed him hard, licking his lips and sliding come into the middle of their kiss. When he finally pulled back, Brandon was breathing harder than he had at practice, more on edge than he'd been before his orgasm.
"And that," Brian said, his voice wrecked, "will give you something to think about the next time you start feeling me up in front of everyone." He tapped Brandon's nose and chuckled warmly.
"That was supposed to teach me a lesson?" Brandon blinked and then laughed. "To not do that?"
Brian squinted, water sliding over his cheek. "I think my message got lost in the middle." He waved it off.
Brandon just laughed again as he struggled to his feet, his legs a little wobbly without the adrenaline shooting through his system. "I'll try to remember the intent of the lesson." He took Brian's hands, pulling him up with him.
"I need a shower," Brian groaned, and then looked up. "Oh, hey, lucky coincidence."
Brandon snorted and then reached over to grab the shampoo. "Bend over, Frankenstein, least I can do after that. Fuck."
Brian grinned-pleased and shy all rolled into one. "Good?"
Brandon lathered up Brian's hair, giving him a good scalp massage as he did so. "Like always," Brandon said softly. He kissed a clean spot on Brian's forehead.
Brian raised his head at the gentle kiss, wrapped his arms around Brandon and kissed him, and if there had been something for Brandon to feel guilty about, he knew he'd been forgiven. The discipline not to do it again? That was a test that would come later.