Ice Cold - Chapter 24: Chapter 24

Landon Reilly
When I entered my room on Friday night after my hockey game, the last thing I expected to see was Wren sitting on my bed, shoes off, reading through one of my text books, but that was the sight that greeted me.
"How the fuck did you even get in here?" I asked, closing the door behind me and dropping my bag beside my closet.
I had gotten pushed around a lot on the ice tonight. My body ached and all I wanted to do was get in bed and finish up a paper I had due at midnight. But of course he always had to throw a wrench in my plans.
"Kyle let me in on his way out," Wren replied, not even bothering to look up at me. He was reading through my philosophy text book, clearly engrossed with whatever page he was on.
"And you're here because...?"
"Well, I'm supposed to get you to come out tonight, Stella's orders," he explained. "But I wouldn't mind staying in. It's not like Stella and Jess would notice if we were there anyway."
Jess would absolutely notice I was there considering the fact the last time I spoke to her I snapped at her and told her we weren't friends. But it wasn't like Wren knew that.
"I'm not going out tonight," I told him, sitting on the edge of my desk. "And you can't be here either. I have to do homework."
"You actually do your homework?"
I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, considering a stipulation of my sports scholarship is that I maintain decent grades."
"What constitutes as decent? C?" He shot me a look of disbelief.
I shrugged. "It's passing."
"It's mediocre."
Wren closed the book and got off the bed, opening my laptop that lay on the desk.
"What are you doing?" I asked, pushing off the desk and turning to face him.
"If you're aiming for a C, then you clearly need someone else to look at your work."
"You're not looking at my work."
I felt stupid enough around Wren, I didn't need to subject myself to seeing how much smarter than me he actually was without even trying. It was like a natural gift to him and his academics were important. For me, hockey was what was important while academics came second. I didn't need to put in full effort as long as my grades were good enough to keep my scholarship and keep me on the team. We had different priorities.
"Seriously, you have to go," I told him with a sigh. "I need to get this done. I have to leave early tomorrow for an away game."
"Just let me look at it," he pestered.
I groaned and leaned over to unlock my laptop. Wren shot me a satisfied grin.
"You're the most irritating person I've ever met, you know that?" I said as he took a seat on my desk chair.
"You can act like you're bothered by me all you want, but I know it's not true."
He hovered over one of the assignments open on my computer and glanced at me as if asking if it was the right one. I nodded and he opened it, taking time to read through the whole thing. When he was done, he immediately started typing.
"Wait," I said, putting my hand over his to stop him. "What are you doing?"
"I'm fixing it," he said, not looking away from the screen.
"I don't need you to fix it."
"You do actually," he said. "You're not citing things correctly and your sentences are too long."
I tried not to let the embarrassment show, so I looked away from him, glaring at the blank wall beside my bed.
Wren spent the next few minutes working on my paper, the sound of his typing drifting through the room. When he was finished, he tapped on my leg for me to look. I didn't notice much of a difference on the screen.
"What did you even do?" I asked. "That's the same as it was."
"No, it's not," Wren replied. "I corrected your citations and fixed the grammar and sentences. It'll make it at least go up a letter grade."
I gave him a blank stare.
"Maybe I'll do something nice for you if you finish it right now," Wren said after a moment, standing up from the desk.
"I don't want you to do anything nice for me," I grumbled, sitting down where Wren once was.
He put his hand on my shoulder, brushing his thumb against my neck as he leaned down to speak into my ear.
"Don't be like that," he whispered. "We both know you're lying anyway."
I shivered as he moved away, sitting back on my bed and flipping through my book once again.
It was hard to concentrate with Wren in the room, though I knew he wasn't paying any attention to me. I didn't like that he was behind me, that I couldn't see what he was doing. Every time I turned to steal a glance at him, he was in the same position propped up against my pillows with my philosophy text book in his lap.
When I finally did finish my paper, Wren knew instantly.
"You're done?" he asked. I nodded. "Let me see."
"You don't need to see," I snapped, saving my work and submitting it before he could do anything about it then spun around to face him.
Wren shrugged. "Fine. It's your grade."
"Yeah, it is my grade," I said, narrowing my eyes at him. "Did you get your fix of annoying me for the night or is there more?"
Wren grinned. "You're wound up really tight tonight. I can take care of that if you'd like."
Two parts of me were at odds. One part of me wanted to kick him out of the room and go to sleep, trying to forget he was even here to begin with. The other part, the stronger part, wanted to experience whatever it was he was offering.
This was the problem with getting involved with Wren. I hated him, wanted nothing to do with him, but I couldn't keep myself away. I hated him but I wanted him. He infuriated me at the same time he pleased me. The whole situation was contradictory and I had no idea what to think about it.
"Get up on the bed," Wren lightly demanded.
I got up from the desk chair but stopped myself short of getting on the bed like he wanted. I hated myself for almost obeying him.
"You're so..." I started.
"I know. I'm annoying and infuriating and insufferable," he finished for me. "I probably missed a couple, but I'm well versed on that. Would you like me to blow you or not?"
I nearly choked on air at his words. He looked at me expectantly, like he didn't just say something vulgar.
I was torn between pushing him out of here and just giving in. I never thought about going this far with Wren, about letting him see me so intimately. That was the scariest part about it, letting him see me so vulnerable. That and the fact that I didn't know if I could handle this, if I could keep my mind from going to a dark place.
We were silent for a moment, Wren staring at me while I stared at the empty spot on the bed I was meant to occupy. Wren looked like he was about to say something, so without thinking about it any further, I hopped up on the bed.
He raised his eyebrows at me, looking both surprised and satisfied.
Wren started by kissing me. He had his legs on either side of my hips, sitting in my lap as he brought his lips lightly down onto mine. His kiss was soft and freeing, like it was sucking my anxieties about the situation right out of me. My hands found their way to his hips on their own accord, going underneath his shirt and resting on his bare skin.
Wren's tongue popped out to meet mine and there was something so new about this sensation that I couldn't pinpoint. I had been kissed before, but his kiss was always different, always feeling like something else.
His lips moved down to my neck while his hands moved to my chest. I let out a content sigh, resting my head back against the wall with my eyes closed. It didn't make sense to me that the person who frustrated me and pushed my buttons the most was also the one that could relax me like this. My brain was filled with hundreds of different conflicting emotions about Wren.
His lips traveled from my neck to my jaw, then to my collarbone while his hands moved lower and lower on my body. Throughout this kiss, I had forgotten about what Wren was intending to do with me, but I became hyper aware of it when his lips left my body and he moved down on the bed so he would have better access to me.
Wren looked at me with raised eyebrows as he put his hands on the button of my jeans. He did nothing to undress me until I nodded at him. Then the button was popped open and the zipper pulled down. Wren pulled my pants down over my thighs but left my boxers on as he kissed up my stomach and to my chest then back down again.
"Do you want this?" Wren asked, his lips just below my navel.
I nodded at him and he shook his head with a grin.
"I'm going to need you to tell me you want it," Wren said, looking up at me.
I sighed. "Wren..."
"If you want it badly enough, you'll tell me," he replied, looking wicked and evil as he did. "Tell me you want me to suck your cock and consider it done."
I let out another sigh, wincing at his words. This should have been enough to snap me out of my bliss, to make me sit up and shove him off. I didn't need this from him, I didn't need it from anyone. But I looked down at him, saw the hunger in his eyes, the want and desire as he sat before me. And I knew we both wanted this as bad as the other. The tension between us was unbearable and this was how we could relieve it.
"I want you to," I started, grimacing at the vulgarity of his words.
It was hard for me to get the rest of the words out. It wasn't like I had never been vulgar in my life. I had plenty of times, but never with another man, never acting on the impulses that I was taught to ignore and fight against. But I had to say it out loud, not only because I knew I would lose in a battle of wills against Wren, but because I needed to be able to say it for myself, to move myself further into self acceptance.
"I want you to suck my cock, Wren," I said in a low tone. His eyes darkened, the hunger and desire in them increasing monumentally.
He pulled down my boxers and started stroking me, instantly filling me with pleasure. My breathing grew heavier as I watched his hand go over me again and again.
When his warm mouth welcomed me in, I jolted and let out a groan. My hands found their way into his hair, pulling him onto me with force. When he gagged, I instantly let go of him but he pulled off and shook his head, tugging my hands back to his hair before putting his mouth back on me.
Wren liked this just as much as I did. He moaned as I pulled on his hair, as I held his head against me and prevented him from moving, making him gag. He loved it and so did I. I loved seeing his wide eyes watering as he looked up at me with his mouth wrapped around me. There was something so sensational about having someone with such a loud and smart mouth look up at me like this.
When I finished, Wren kept his mouth on me, swallowing everything. He sucked on me until I winced and then pulled off, looking up a me with a wide, boastful grin. He pulled my pants back up for me and came to lay beside me.
I was still panting slightly when he laid his head on my shoulder, pulling my arm around him.
"Don't you want..." I began to ask, but Wren shook his head.
"That was all I needed right now," he said.
I expected to feel shame after the fact. I had thought I wouldn't even be able to look at Wren, that I would want him out of my presence as soon as it was over. But I didn't feel any of that. He lay beside me and I didn't feel revulsion.
"Stop shaking your leg," Wren said, placing his hand on my thigh that I hadn't even realized was moving.
My hands had somehow found their way back into Wren's hair, this time only twirling it against my fingers.
"Are you getting ready to kick me out?" Wren asked, his tone playful. But I knew he thought that was a possibility, that he was just lying there waiting to be screamed at and thrown out.
"No."
"Well, can you at least tell me what you're thinking?"
"No."
"Lance, if you hated it just tell me. I promise I won't be offended," he started. "Although, I don't know how you could. I give amazing head and you seemed to enjoy it when you were coming down my-"
"Shut up," I snapped, tugging forcefully enough on his hair for him to wince. "Do you have to ruin everything with your big mouth?"
Wren smirked. "Well, now you know one way to really shut me up."
I scoffed. "You're insane."
"That's a new one."
I felt heat rise to my face, but I felt far less embarrassed about Wren having my dick in his mouth than I thought I would. Maybe going to therapy had really been helping my anger and self acceptance even in such a short period of time.
Wren and I didn't speak for the rest of the night and I fell asleep with his head on my shoulder.
***
I woke up to my alarm at six in the morning, Wren's head still on my shoulder and my hand still in his hair. He had turned on his side some time during the night, his legs tangled with mine, his arm wrapped around my torso. He stirred at the sound of the alarm, blinking at me. I pulled my hand from his hair and tapped on his waist, willing him to untangle himself from me so that I could get out of bed. Wren rolled onto his back and watched as I left the bed.
I had to be at our team practice facility for seven for the team breakfast, then we had to leave the school by eight to head toward our away game at Quinnipiac to be there for ten and get in some practice before the game at one.
I left Wren in the room while I did what I needed in the bathroom. By the time I walked back into the room, my bed was made and Wren was up wearing one of my hockey sweatshirts.
"Hope you don't mind that I borrowed this," he said, looking down at the sweatshirt. "It's chilly out there this morning."
I clenched my jaw as I looked at him. I didn't like him in my clothes or making my bed. He just always had to command a situation even when it didn't seem like he was doing it. He was weird and bizarre and I didn't know what to think of him. He was unlike anyone I had ever known.
"Whatever," I muttered, starting to gather my things. "You need to go now."
When I said it, Wren was already moving toward the door. I didn't know why that made my stomach feel hollow. It felt better to be the one kicking him out rather than him being the one leaving.
"Last night was fun," Wren said as he opened the door. "We should do it again sometime." Then he was gone.
I watched the door in confusion for a moment. I didn't get how he could be so nonchalant, how he could do what we did last night and have it not matter in the slightest.
That was one of my fears when it came to Wren; that this would always mean more to me than it ever did to him. Everything we did would be something new for me while for him it was something he had experienced a hundred times. This was only fun for him because I was some sort of game to him, someone who played hard to get, someone who had no idea what he was doing.
I blocked out thoughts of last night as I finished getting ready and went to the team breakfast. I was one of the first people there besides the coaches and Rojas, who were standing in the corner of the room chatting. When they saw me, they immediately stopped and waved me over.
"Just the player we wanted to see," Coach Foreman said as I made my way over to them.
"Oh, is everything okay?" I asked, feeling anxious. The Coaches and Rojas didn't look like they were about to deliver me bad news, but I still felt sick at the thought of them talking about me without me being there.
"Shea is out today," Coach Foreman replied, referencing one of Rojas's linemates. "Nothing major. He's sick and can't play today. How do you feel about moving up to play Rojas's left wing?"
I was a natural center, as were many of the players who were forced onto wings when they got onto teams with better centers than them. I was lucky to keep my position as center in college, though I was rotating between third and fourth line. Playing on the first line was something I had always done, but never as a winger. This would be my only chance to play first line while Rojas was still on the team, even if I had to play a different position than what I was used to.
"I could do that," I said, glancing over at smiling Chris Rojas.
"Great," he said, clapping me on the shoulder. "You're going to do great."
The rest of the team filed into the room for breakfast shortly after and the lines were announced while we ate. First line had Rojas in the center with his usual right wing and me on the left. Cooper ended up getting my usual spot as center on the fourth line. He didn't get to play as often as I did, but when he did get to play it was usually as a winger on one of the bottom two lines, meaning when he was playing, I was usually having to play with him.
The thought of Cooper getting my place made my stomach turn. This made there be a possibility that they would permanently replace me with him and I could be the one shoved onto someone's wing.
I shoveled the rest of my food into my mouth and glared over at him.
As soon as we were let on the bus, I took a seat for myself, put my headphones in, and ignored my surroundings for the duration of the drive.