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[personal profile] cupcakegirla
Title: Provocation and Motivation
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Jamie Benn/Tyler Sequin
Summary: Tyler is not so good at following orders, and really good at catching Jamie's attention.
Author’s Note: For Missesbean, who asked really really nicely. I can barely ever say no. I don't watch Hockey. I don't follow Hockey. Missesbean had to spam me with gifs/pics/vids/articles about these two so I could write them. I hope I did them justice. Sorry if I goofed on anything! Go read Missesbean's fic next. She writes a LOT of hockey stuff! :D

“Segs!” Jamie pushed through the crowd of bodies. It was hot, too hot, and Jamie was beat. He wanted to go back to the hotel and sleep until they had to leave for the airport in the morning. Instead he was searching the damn club for one missing center.

“Segs!” he shouted, backing away from a pretty blonde girl who had pressed herself against his chest, hands crawling around his waist like very affectionate spiders. He looked away from her smiling stiffly, eyes scanning, scanning, there! Two familiar arms were waving in the air a dozen people away. Thank God for distinctive tattoos.

Jamie peels the girl away, shrugging at her pouty frown, and moves quickly away. He’s in front of Tyler a minute later, and he fights to catch his breath at the sight of him. Tyler has his hands up, reaching for the ceiling, head tilted back, face red with heat and shiny with sweat. He’s dancing to the music, lost in his own little world, and Jamie has to fight the urge to join him there. That… would not be good.

He only notices the hands wrapped around Tyler’s hips when one slides forward and down, open palm pressing hard to the bulge at Tyler’s crotch. Tyler arches backward, a low moan escaping his throat. Jamie almost gives an answering moan but bites it back. That’s when he sees the man behind Ty, the man with his lips attached to the back of Tyler’s neck, tongue chasing a bead of sweat down the slope of his neck where it meets his shoulder. Jamie charges closer angry and jealous and exhausted.

“Hey! Segs!” he shouts over the pounding bass. “Segs!” he says leaning in closer. Tyler’s eyes ease open slowly, lids half mast, and a sloppy drunk smile slowly sliding over his features.

“Bennie! Captain, my Captain!” he says. “Dance with me! Wooo!!” he tosses his head back to yell and almost head butts the guy behind him in the face.

“Dude, watch it!” the man growls. Tyler frowns pulling away.

“Hey! No reason to be rude, Asshole!”

“Just protecting my investment! Are we going somewhere more private or what?” the guy asks, hands jerking Tyler back against his body. Jamie steps closer, but stops himself quickly because a second later Tyler is whipping around and shoving the guy away from himself.

“I don’t go home with fuck faces who are rude to my friends. You can go fuck your fist. I’m sure it’ll have a better time than I would!” Tyler shouts, face twisting in a scowl. The man stands up taller, body tightening with anger. Jamie reaches for Tyler.

“Come on, man! Let’s get out of here. It’s getting late,” he wraps his hand around Tyler’s arm, ignoring the way the younger man leans into his grip with familiarity. Tyler doesn’t look away from the other guy. Which is lucky because when the guy swings at them Tyler’s ready for it. He backs into Jamie, shoving him clear of the guys clumsy reach, and then charges forward, hands swinging. The guys is big, bigger than Tyler, but Jamie’s fairly sure that Tyler’s probably been in more brawls than this guy has. He is a hockey player after all. He lets Tyler get one, two, three good punches in, enough that the guy is down and in obvious pain, but not unconscious.

Then it’s Jamie’s turn to wrap an arm around Tyler’s waist. He tugs him into the crowd, disappearing quickly in just a few seconds before anyone can get a picture or God forbid a video of the altercation. He drags Tyler toward the exit, anger making his blood sing.

“Stupid, immature, arrogant little shit!” he sneers, pushing the back alley door open, and shoving Tyler out into the cold winter air.

“Hey! Come on Bennie! This wasn’t my fault! That guy had it coming!”

“You got cut from Boston because of this shit. Because you couldn’t keep it in your pants, and you kept embarrassing yourself and the team in public. Do you want to do it all over again!?” he asks. Tyler frowns, letting himself lean back against the brick wall of the club. He slouches there, pushing at his sweaty hair.

“Are you trying to protect me, Jamie, or…” he straightens up again, looking up at Jamie from under his eyelashes, a smirk pulling his lips up into a smile. “Or, are you just trying to keep me all for yourself?” Jamie shakes his head.

“Is everything about dick with you? Yours and apparently other peoples too? This is certainly a new development!” Jamie replies, moving away, arms crossing over his chest. Tyler arches against the brick, t-shirt riding up just a little around his waist.

“I’ve learned a hard lesson Jamie, about hiding in plain sight. But maybe I don’t want to hide anymore. Maybe I want to get laid once in a while!” he looks angry when he says it. Jamie frowns at him, shaking his head.

“There are subtler ways of going about it, Ty. I mean starting a damn fist fight in the middle of a crowded dance floor. Are you fucking stupid?”

“Maybe I’m just trying to get your attention,” Tyler says, and that’s when Jamie sees it. It’s in the clarity of his eyes, and the smoothness of his voice. Tyler isn’t sloppy drunk, he’s stone cold fucking sober.

“Oh,” he says softly. The grin that stretches across Tyler’s mouth is like a wet dream come to life. Jamie moves away from him, backing out of the alley toward the main street, eyes never leaving Tyler’s face. He watches Tyler’s face freeze and start to crumple with disappointment. Jamie shoves his hands into the front pockets of his shorts to hide his growing erection. “Are you coming? Or not?” he asks. He turns the corner before he can see the glee completely take over his face.

Jamie sits on the far side of the cab’s rear seat, and when Tyler tries to slide closer, glares him into moving further away. When the driver picks up his radio to talk to dispatch, Jamie leans over and says just loudly enough for Tyler to hear.

“Keep your mouth shut, and your hands to yourself. If we’re doing this, we are doing it my way,” he says before leaning back in his seat, eyes forward. He pointedly ignores the way Tyler’s hands go to a certain part of himself, glad only that it’s so dark in the backseat that there is little chance of the driver seeing.

Jamie makes a point of ignoring Tyler for the entire ride back to the hotel, and on the entire ride upstairs to their floor. He doesn’t even check behind himself when he heads for his room, but he knows Tyler’s there anyway, just behind his right shoulder. As soon as the door is open Jamie steps inside, waiting for Tyler to follow him in. He has the smaller man pinned to the wall before the door has even managed to click closed, one hand pinning him to the flower papered wall, pressing hard between his pecks, the other reaching down, feeling the hardness of his dick through denim.

“Next time you want my attention, send me a text. And next time you want to get fucked,” he leans closer, watching Tyler’s eyes dilate as his breathing quickens, “just ask.” He presses his mouth to Tyler’s in an aggressive kiss that has his head knocking back against the wall. Tyler’s hands tug at the hem of Jamie’s t-shirt, pulling at sweaty cotton, and sliding under, nails scratching at Jamie’s lower back, scrambling to pull him closer. Jamie releases his grip on his dick, sliding down and around to grip Tyler’s ass. One good tug from them both and they’re pressed together from mouth to knees, erections grinding where their hips meet, and causing them both to moan. They break apart panting and eager.

“I’ve been waiting for this,” Tyler says, licking at dry lips, and hands clutching Jamie tighter against him. Jamie presses in eagerly, watching Tyler’s head fall back, his eyes fluttering closed. One of Tyler’s legs pulls up letting Jamie’s body settle in closer, hips moving against Jamie’s rhythmically. Jamie bends toward him, his mouth moving across Tyler’s stubbled chin, down the length of his long neck, to lick and suck along his shoulder, hands tugging at his t-shirt collar to pull it out of the way.

“Gonna lick him all gone,” he says, letting himself bite just a little. Tyler squirms against him, making a small eager sound, that has Jamie’s dick getting that much harder in response.

Hands scramble a belts and zippers, and within a minutes they’re on the bed, skin to skin and mouth to mouth. Jamie pushes Tyler back to lay flat, hovering over him to tug his t-shirt off and away. Tyler reaches for him as he lays back down, hands tracing muscles and scratching through hair. The hungry look on Tyler’s face has Jamie’s hips stuttering down into Tyler’s with new urgency.

“What do you want?” Jamie asks, sitting back atop Tyler’s hips, weight immobilizing him, as he lets his hands slide across the whirls and lines of Tyler’s tattoos. He can’t stop himself from bending down, tracing a tree branch, the curl of a scroll with the tip of his tongue. He looks up to find Tyler staring, his mouth open, and his eyes wide. “Segs?” he asks. Tyler blinks at him, mouth lifting into a grin.

“Everything,” he says through bright white teeth, lips stretching into a hungry smile. Jamie shakes his head, equally amused and annoyed.

“You’re going to need to be a little more specific. We only have so many hours until we have to board the plane to go home,” he says.

“I want you to fuck me. Fuck me so hard I can feel it for the next three practices.”

“That, I can definitely do,” he reaches for his travel kit in the bedside table, finding a packet of lube and a condom.

“You’re such a fucking Boy Scout,” Tyler says chuckling, and running a hand through his sweaty hair, watching intently as Jamie opens the condom wrapper, tears open the lube.

“You’ll be glad when my dick’s up your ass,” Jamie replies, moving to kneel between Tyler’s spread thighs. He reaches for Tyler’s dick. It’s long and pretty, but not particularly thick. It fit his body type perfectly. Jamie’s dick was thicker, and uncut, with a purple swollen head. Tyler’s makes Jamie’s mouth fill with saliva. He wraps his hand around it, watches Tyler’s whole body undulate with a full body shudder. He pants, letting out a groan that has Jamie’s hand tightening in response. This sets off a full body reaction from Tyler, his hips arching up into Jamie’s hand, and his hands fisting in the sheets on either side of his head.

“Fuck! Come on, Bennie!” he begs. Jamie spreads lube on his fingers and reaches down to press one and then two inside of Tyler’s ass. Tyler squirms, eyes squeezing shut. “Yeah, come on… Come on!”

“Hold still,” he orders. Tyler lets out a little whine and presses down hard with his hips, pushing Jamie’s fingers deep. He lets out a long broken moan that turns suddenly into a desperate whine when Jamie pulls his hands away. Tyler’s left desperately clutching the sheets and eyes rolling in his head.

“Wha--? No! No! Jamie?!” Jamie pushes up, bracing himself over Tyler’s body and holding himself there so that no part of his body touches Tyler’s. He watches Tyler trying and failing to ignore the way Segs blinks up at him confused and more sober than Jamie could have expected.

“I told you to stay still. You never listen. You never do what anyone tells you to do. This is your whole fucking problem. But if you want this you are going to listen to me and do what I tell you to do!” Tyler pants up at him and nods, smiling just a little when Jamie lets himself lower down to lay stretched out atop him from head to feet.

Jamie takes control, and Tyler lets him. He lets Jamie roll him on to his stomach, hugs a pillow and spreads his legs. He moves like Jamie tells him too, hold still when he tells him too, pants and moans, and groans when he tells him too. Jamie stretches him slowly, using lots of lube and lots of fingers, rubs and fucks with his hand until Tyler is coming against the sheets with a cry, hips stuttering and hands clenching in the sheet. Jamie pats his shoulder, letting his hand press down the length of Tyler’s strong back.

“Good boy,” he murmurs, half joking, and laughs outright when he sees the grin spread across Tyler’s sweaty face. He’s pink with exertion, hair standing up every which way, and he looks completely wrecked. Tyler flips over, and reaches for Jamie, pulling him in closer with a hand on each hip.

“Come here,” he says, voice hoarse. Jamie presses close, his erection, painfully hard, pressing into Tyler’s left thigh. Tyler tugs him into a kiss, one hand going to the back of his head, hands threading through Jamie’s hair. Jamie eventually has to pull back to breathe. Tyler tightens his grip on Jamie’s hair and on the arm around his waist. “Please, Captain.” He bites at Jamie’s lower lip, tugging on it with his teeth. “Please, fuck me,” he begs. “I want you to.”

So Jamie does just as Tyler had asked. He rolls the younger man back onto his belly, pulls and positions him up on his knees, hands gripping the hotel bedframe, and slides home with a groan that feels like it comes from his belly. Tyler cries out, but he follows orders, for the first time ever. He stays still, and lets Jamie take what he wants.

It’s fast, and dirty, and loud. Jamie’s thrusts are hard and rough, and he knows he’s likely leaving bruises on Tyler’s hips but he can’t bring himself to care. When he feels himself getting close he shifts his wait to reach around and under Tyler’s hips. He reaches for his dick and starts to jack him off. Tyler’s shout of pleased reaction makes Jamie’s hips stutter, and pushes him even closer to the edge.

He barely manages to hold on until Tyler comes a second time. But once he has, Jamie can’t bear to hold back any longer. He comes groaning, and moaning, into the back of Tyler’s neck, teeth digging into the smooth muscle of Tyler’s shoulder.

Jamie collapses beside him, pulling Tyler in when he sluggishly rolls over and snuggles closer. Tyler drops his head to rest on Jamie’s shoulder and lets out an exhausted sigh.

“If all your orders were that much fun, I’d be more inclined to follow them,” Tyler says, beard scratching against Jamie’s shoulder. Jamie laughs, rolling his eyes at the ceiling.

“Maybe we can work out a reward system,” he offers. He practically feels the smile Tyler buries in his neck.

“I’d be willing to give that a shot. Especially if winning a game always ended like this.” The silence of the room is cut off by Jamie’s phone alarm going off. He groans, sliding out from under Tyler’s head to bend over the side of the bed. He snags his jeans off the floor and pulls free his phone from the pocket. 5:30AM. Fuck.

“Shit,” he says flopping back down to lay flat on the bed, turning his head to smile at Tyler in the half light of the hotel room. “Bus for the airport leaves in 30 minutes, and I bet you still have to pack,” he says. Tyler makes a face and Jamie laughs, sitting up and tugging at Tyler’s wrist. “Get showered and get packed, and if you’re back here in under 20, I’ll suck you off before we head down.”

Jamie hasn’t seen Tyler move that fast off the ice even once. Ever.

Maybe when it came to getting Tyler to do what he wanted, motivation was all that he would need to help Tyler be the hockey player Jamie knew he really could be. And he liked a challenge.

Tyler was back in 10, dripping wet, clothes hanging out of his bag, and dick already hard.


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