Jonny likes it best after Kaner’s big games, when he’s still high off the adrenaline and spewing out dumb, embarrassing phrases like how that’s hockey, baby, and how he’ll shoot his load like he shoots the puck -
"Quick one-timer?" Jonny pulls off to say, sneaking in a few discreet breaths. His nose is kind of stuffy today.
"Fuck you, I can go all night long," Kaner says, thrusting his dick back in Jonny’s face so that it bumps against his lips, demanding.
Jonny rolls his eyes but parts his lips to the pressure. Kaner’s whining is not a turn-on.
His stupid running commentary while he’s getting his cock sucked kind of is, though. Usually he’s pretty quiet, quick enough to harden up and grind impatiently against Jonny’s thighs, open that obscene mouth of his and let jonny fill it up, but he doesn’t like to talk.
Jonny doesn’t, either, but he likes silence even less, so he’ll try to fill it up with awkward dirty talk that generally ends up with Kaner pushing him off to laugh and laugh. It makes Jonny flush and scowl, but it’s STILL better than nothing but sex sounds between them.
So nights like these are his favorite, when Kaner’s still so in the zone he’s just babbling whatever idiocy comes into his head, not even trying for filthy, most of it disjointed and ridiculous and taking Jonny back to the pleasant days of college when he spent his off days blowing a bunch of assholes who shared like ten brain cells between the lot of them.
"Aww yeah," Kaner says as Jonny slings an arm across his belly to keep him against the wall, and uses the other arm to tease his balls. "Fuck, that’s good," he says, and "I’m good, I’m the best.”
Jonny has to pull off again. “You’re really not.”
Kaner tries to guide his head back.
"Booooom, gonna break your heart, baby," he boasts, and Jonny snorts and bites down on the inside of Kaner’s thigh to hear his voice crack. It’s just a bit of punishment for being such an idiot, for not knowing that he could, that Jonny’s heart is his to break.
(Cue Tazer eye-rolling forever.)