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seasidesandstarscapes · 7 months ago

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Right in the Numbers - Chapter 1

Summary:

Don is a major league hockey player with a secret. Sometimes, his paycheck goes to a specific camboy, a far-off fantasy that gets him through lonely nights. It's a great anonymous arrangement, until the camboy pops up as the new goalie for the season. Don is so screwed.

Rating: Explicit

Genre: Modern AU, Hockey, Camming, Strangers to Lovers, Friends with Benefits, Falling in Love, Porn with Plot

(and many more tags on AO3 lol)

Words: 3858

A/N: welp here it is. shout-out to @savvylittlecoxswain who was the main fuel and inspiration behind pretty much all of the hockey stuff that pops up in this fic!!!

AO3

Don’s friends are right, it’s always the quiet ones.

He’s been waiting for this all week, turning down plans because tonight is special. He even has money invested in this. Nothing outrageous of course, but it’d be enough to get a few raised eyebrows if his team ever found out.

Don settles against the headboard, pillows stacked behind him as he opens his laptop. A finger traces around his mouth while he brings up the website, anxiously watching the loading screen.

It’s not time to start yet but the chat is full force, just as excited as Don. He doesn’t really join in, not unless he’s just left a tip, and even then his nerves get the best of him.

The screen blinks and Don holds his breath as a face appears on the screen. The man on the other side is adjusting the camera, smiling and looking directly into the lenses.

If Don pretends, the smile is just for him.

He doesn’t know the man’s real name, but he has his own nickname for the streamer. B. Maybe it’s a bit simple but Don has his reasons.

“You all are begging for it,” B smiles at the screen, his eyes darting over to the chat.

Don rolls his eyes a little at the lewd comments, the over-the-top confessions of love. All B wants is the money and Don’s fine with that.

The string of his hoodie is now in his mouth as he watches B interact with the chat. His laugh is beautiful, smile so big and genuine. Don wonders what really makes B happy, what he does when he’s not camming.

“Well, it’s finally eight o clock,” B scoots back onto the bed. “DH22 bought tonight’s tier, so this one’s for you, baby.”

Don blushes. No one knows it’s him, B only knows him as a username, but it still feels so personal.

Dressed in just a white t-shirt and jeans, B sits back on his heels, legs spread so his erection presses against the restraining fabric. Don exhales sharply through his nose, his own cock stirring to attention.

B bites his lip, runs his hands down his sides, across his thighs.

“Been waiting for you all day,” B sighs. “Wanted to get off so bad.”

Don swallows, wonders if he should say something in the chat. He hesitates before throwing all hell to the wind.

But you didn’t, did you?

There is a ding on B’s end and Don realizes notifications for his responses are turned on.

“That’s right,” B pops the button of his jeans. “I was good for you.”

This is almost too much. With a swear, Don shoves his sweatpants and briefs out of the way, gives his cock a quick stroke. Meanwhile, B drags his zipper open, slides his underwear down just enough so the tip of his cock is peeking out.

“Since I was such a good boy, do I get rewarded?”

Fuck. Don is tempted to really drag this out, but B is the picture of sin.

Touch yourself nice and slow.

B groans with relief, pulls out his cock and teases with his fingers. He slides his hand lazily along the length, moaning and throwing his head back.

So perfect. Just for me.

Don wants to die. He doesn’t know why he typed that, barely remembers doing so.

“Yeah, I’m all yours,” B smiles. “Wish you were here to fill me up.”

Squeezing the base of his cock, Don holds off his impending orgasm. He can’t finish so soon, not when the real show is yet to come.

Can you finger yourself? Open up for me?

Any initial embarrassment is starting to fade. Don is safe behind a computer screen, he can be as filthy and demanding as he wants. After all, he did pay for tonight’s show.

“Oh fuck yeah,” B grins.

He strips out of his clothes, turns around so his back is to the camera. B flashes a smile over his shoulder, grabs a bottle of lube and coats his fingers.

“I bet your fingers are bigger than mine,” B sighs as he slides the first finger in. “God, you’d stretch me so good.”

Don can only dream and he moans as B falls forward, his ass and hole taking up most of the screen.

“Oh, fuck,” B whines, shoving more fingers into his tight hole. “Fuck me, D.”

Blood pounds in Don’s ears as he fists his cock. B is way too good at this. He’s a flirt, charming, and so incredibly hot. It’s no wonder he’s a top star in the cam world.

“Baby,” B pants, twisting just enough so the camera can catch his face. “Can I use my dildo?”

Don knows just which one B is going to use and he almost explodes at the thought.

Of course.

B lights up, reaches off camera to grab the toy. It’s skin colored and veined, exactly the same size as Don’s cock. At least, if he’s done his math right. He didn’t stay up until 5 after that live-stream for nothing.

The dildo slides easily into B and he sits up to fill himself all the way.

“Oh my god,” Don groans, squeezing his cock.

“Yes, D, oh fuck,” B moans as he lifts himself and slams back down. “Just imagine your hands on me.”

It would be better than his first goal. Better than making the leagues. Don’s hand is flying now and he doesn’t last as B fucks the dildo.

Don cries out as he comes, coating his hand, getting some on his hoodie. He pumps through the sensitivity, his ears filled with B’s moans and whines.

“I’m close,” B stammers.

Come for me then.

Don doesn’t know how he manages to type that and grimaces at his cum covered hand.

B adjusts his position so the camera has a perfect side view of him, dildo underneath him, cock bouncing against his stomach.

Becoming incoherent and babbling, B comes untouched, back arching, white ribbons spilling across his body and bed. B shakes through the orgasm, closes his eyes as he collects himself.

Good boy.

B smiles at the camera, faces it as he drags his fingers through the cum on his stomach and chest.

“Just for you, DH22.”

Thank you.

It’s cheesy but Don means it. Tonight was amazing and hot. Post-orgasm, B is beautiful, disheveled and smiling.

“I should be thanking you,” B laughs a little. “I hope you’ll be getting another tier again.”

He winks at the camera and Don heaves a sigh. He has to remind himself this is just a transaction, no meaning behind it. With a quick goodbye, Don leaves the chat, closes his laptop.

He needs a shower.

It’s the usual locker room camaraderie on this Monday and Don tries to tape up his stick without any interference.

He’s thinking over what he needs to focus on during practice when the locker room door opens. Ulbrickson walks in and everyone goes silent.

“I’m sure you’ve all heard the rumors and I’m here to tell you it’s true.”

There are glances exchanged, conversations to be had later, but for now the team keeps listening.

“So, while Morry is recovering, we have a new goalie. Don’t give him a hard time,” Ulbrickson says and opens the door.

The next person who walks in is a shorter man with dark hair and brilliant blue eyes. His stare is challenging, fiery, but Don’s heart is in his stomach.

It’s fucking B.

He’s seen this man naked, heard his voice during sex. And now here he is looking around the room and locking eyes with Don.

Don panics, stares at his feet. No, this can’t be. B is just a fantasy behind a camera, not right in front of him, real as can be.

“Name’s Bobby Moch,” B introduces. “No need to go easy on me cause I sure won’t with you.”

He flashes a grin then and the locker room relaxes, a few laughs here and there. Not that Don is feeling anything but abject terror. He might give himself away, might say the wrong thing during practice.

He looks up as Bobby approaches him and he thinks to run.

“Guess this stall is mine then?” Bobby points to the empty one next to Don.

Shit.

“Uh, yeah. I think,” Don mumbles, trying to focus back on his stick.

Bobby just shrugs and gets ready for practice by taking off his shirt first. Don wants the ground to swallow him up and he rushes through taping and getting fully geared up.

He’s just about to leave when a hand on his arm stops him.

“Always nice to meet a fan,” Bobby says quietly with a smirk.

Don’s eyes widen and he stumbles back before rushing out of the locker room. He’s so screwed.

He scrambles onto the ice, but even the comfort of his blades cutting into his turns don’t quell the storm inside of him.

It must be radiating because Joe comes over, nudges him.

“New goalie rubbing you the wrong way?”

Not quite, Don thinks. “What do you mean?” He tries to feign innocence.

Joe raises an eyebrow, laughs under his breath. “Haven’t seen you like this since Chuck gave you that drunk lap dance.”

Don doesn’t want to remember that night, especially with Bobby clamoring onto the ice. He’s a bulky form now, hidden behind the goalie helmet and Don breathes a sigh of relief. He doesn’t know if he could get through practice seeing Bobby’s face clearly.

“It’s nothing,” Don quickly says and Joe opens his mouth.

It’s then when Ulbrickson calls for drills. Thankful for this saving grace, Don gives Joe a small shrug, as if to apologize, though he’s not sorry at all. Right now, he just has to focus on the ice, the stick in his hands. He sees Bobby out of the corner of his eye but does his best to ignore him.

It goes fine until it’s time to practice scoring on Bobby. Don has no choice but to look at him now and hates how Bobby’s eyes bore into him. He must realize by now who Don is exactly. He can practically feel the number on his jersey screaming out to Bobby.

He doesn’t mean to take a backseat while the guys shoot pucks at Bobby, but right now he needs all the time he can get.

Bobby is a force to be reckoned with. No one can get a goal past him and now everyone is starting to doubt themselves. It’s Don’s turn at last, nowhere to run, and he swallows, tightens his grip on his stick.

Don inhales sharply through his nose, bats the puck a bit before he tries to pull a fast one on Bobby.

It doesn’t work.

Bobby blocks his puck, sends it scattering away with a hollow echo. It’s quiet in the arena and Don chews around the mouthguard.

Ulbrickson says something to the team but Don doesn’t hear it. He can only watch as Bobby gives him a smug grin, raised eyebrows challenging him.

Don’s hands are clammy, a lump has formed in his throat. He’s going to be off the team today at this rate. If all it takes is one man to throw him off his groove, Don can only imagine how the games will be.

Bobby moves out from the net, sidles in close to Don.

“DH22, huh?” Bobby’s voice is so quiet, Don has to strain to hear it. “I had fun with you last night.”

Don chokes on his own spit, eyes going wide as Bobby goes back to his previous position. Bobby is smiling like he’s won the Stanley Cup and Don wants to cry.

“You okay, Humesy?” Roger asks, skating up next to Don’s frozen form.

“Hm?” Don blinks.

His mind is a mess of confusion, horniness and god knows what else as Bobby’s words echo in his ears.

“You’re kinda blocking the way if we want to practice on Bobby.”

Don wishes Roger hadn’t said it like that and he winces as he skates to the side.

“Alright, give it to me, baby!” Bobby cajoles the team and gives Don a wink.

Maybe if he faints he can escape this cruel twist of fate.

“You think you can take all of us at once, Moch?” Chuck calls back.

The mental image in Don’s head is killing him and he panics when a hand lands on his shoulder.

“You don’t look so good,” Jim’s eyes shine with concern.

Shaking his head, Don forces a smile. “I’m fine. Great.”

Jim isn’t convinced, but he lets Don be as he joins the others. Even with eight guys scoring on him, Bobby manages to block most of the shots and Don thinks he sees a trace of a smile on Ulbrickson’s face.

If only he could feel the same way.

When they’re finished with practice, changing out of their uniforms for the day, Don nearly screams when Bobby sidles up next to him.

“Last game with the Preds, you played pretty solidly,” Bobby compliments as he strips himself down.

Don focuses on his stall, his chance to escape as Bobby keeps chatting, just standing around in his briefs. Sure, he’s seen Bobby with a dick up his ass but this is different.

“Think you could change it up a little though.”

“What does that mean?” Don frowns as his jersey drops to the floor.

Bobby laughs, clear and bright. “During practice. You went for your usual deke.”

He bends down and picks up Don’s jersey for him. Don tries to ignore the curve of his spine, the flex of his shoulder.

“That so?” Don mumbles as he takes the jersey from Bobby.

“Yeah. Well, I’m going to hit the showers. Wait for me?”

Don knows he should refuse. Should just run, but he just nods his head and settles into defeat. At this Bobby gives Don a wide smile and a slap on the back.

Well, actually he slaps his ass.

Before Don can say anything Bobby has already slipped away.

The sting of the slap sends a shiver along Don’s body. Already Bobby is comfortable with him and Don can’t find it in himself to be anything but enamored. He’s even tempted to follow Bobby into the showers.

Then, Don collects himself and he curses his growing erection.

He could run home and just take care of this on his own, but anticipation hangs in the air. Maybe Bobby has something else in mind. It’s stupid to hope but Don can’t help himself and he makes a grocery list in his head to ignore his hormones.

Bobby’s shower is quick and he seems pleasantly surprised to see Don waiting for him. Most of the team is gone by now and Bobby glances around before leaning close to Don.

“Your place or mine?”

Right here if they could.

But Don composes himself and shrugs. He couldn’t care less if this means what he thinks it does.

Bobby chuckles, drops his towel to change and Don is a tomato. He looks away, pretends he doesn’t already know where every freckle and mole sits on Bobby’s skin.

“Such a gentleman,” Bobby pulls Don from his mind.

Bobby is dressed now, jeans and a hoodie, and he pulls Don from the locker room. No one seems to notice to Don’s relief and before he knows it they’re at an unfamiliar car.

“Wait,” Bobby frowns. “Did you drive here?”

Don shakes his head. “I usually get a ride from one of the guys.”

“Oh good,” Bobby smiles as he climbs into the driver’s seat and motions Don to get in the car as well.

The first thing Don notices is how much the car smells like flowers. He spots the air freshener easily, a cartoonish daisy dangling from the rear view mirror. It’s rather cute.

Bobby’s eyes sparkle as they head off, but no words are exchanged. Don doesn’t even know where to start. A simple “Was I what you expected?” doesn't seem to cut it.

They pull into a parking lot and Don is in a haze as he follows Bobby up to his apartment. It’s spacious and clean, bright decorations that just scream for Don to look at them. He’s not surprised Bobby has such a nice place. He can only imagine Bobby’s supplemental income on top of being in major league hockey. And that’s the other thing.

“How has no one else found your channel?” Don blurts out before he can stop himself.

Bobby laughs with a shrug. “I’m sure they have, but there’s been worse scandals in the leagues. You saw me at practice anyways. They’d be idiots to cut me.”

Don supposes Bobby is right and apologizes for his abrupt question.

“It’s fine,” Bobby waves him off. “Always happy to educate.”

There’s no doubt of that in Don’s mind and he only registers he’s in Bobby’s bedroom when Bobby shoves him back onto the mattress. It’s softer than the camera makes it look and Don can see all the equipment and toys shoved to the corner of the room.

“Can I ride you?” Bobby climbs on top of Don, braces himself over him.

Don can only nod, still in disbelief he’s here. With his porn crush.

Bobby leans down and kisses Don deeply before he jumps off to strip out of his clothes. Don figures he better follow suit, but he feels awkward and gangly as his foot gets stuck in his jeans.

“Here.” Bobby helps Don with the last of his clothes before he’s attacking him again, kissing along his jaw and down his neck.

“Fuck, if I had known I’d be meeting you like this, I would’ve given you last night’s show free,” Bobby pants as he trails his mouth across Don’s chest.

Don moans, but whether it’s at Bobby’s words or his lips, he’s not sure.

“Can’t wait to get you inside me. Gonna be so good,” Bobby kisses Don’s stomach.

He goes lower, a ghost of a breath along Don’s cock. Don shudders, can’t even think of a single thing to say. He’s sure this is all just a dream.

A bottle of lube bounces next to him and Bobby sits at his waist.

“Finger me?” Bobby asks, his eyes begging, lip almost in a pout.

Don’s heart thuds in his chest and he sits up to crash into Bobby with another kiss as he opens the lube. Fingers coated, he traces his hand to Bobby’s hole, soaking in the shudder and bated breath Bobby gives him.

Licking his lips, Don prods with the first finger, watching Bobby’s face. His eyes roll up, he’s in pure ecstasy as Don pushes the digit further in. He’s fingered himself before and enjoyed it, but Bobby makes it seem like there’s no greater pleasure.

“God I knew it,” Bobby gasps. “Your fingers are so big.”

“I only have one in you.”

Bobby huffs with a grin and wraps his arms around Don’s shoulders. “You know what I mean.”

Don copies Bobby’s smile, kisses his collarbone as he slides another finger next to the first. Bobby bites down on his lip and Don worries Bobby will draw blood until Bobby lets out a heady moan as Don drags his fingers out.

“Please, please, I’m so ready,” Bobby grips tight to Don.

Better safe than sorry, Don takes the time to stuff Bobby three fingers full, dragging his fingertips along the inside of Bobby’s hole. His mouth marks up Bobby’s shoulders, neck, and Bobby makes no protest, only holding Don closer.

After a bit more fingering, Bobby whimpers, grinds his neglected cock against Don’s stomach. His impatience takes over and he lifts himself off Don’s fingers, shoves him to lay back on the bed.

Snatching a condom from the bedside table, Bobby drags it over Don’s cock, a prideful smile as Don arches off the bed. He’s not going to last long.

Bobby is careful as he guides the tip into his hole, discomfort only flashing once across his face. It takes more than one try, but once Bobby is fully seated, the two men groan in tandem.

“So much better than a dildo,” Bobby sighs as he wiggles his hips.

“Even better than the tentacle one?” Don quips under his breath but Bobby catches it all the same.

“Well, it’s close but I think you just edge out on top,” Bobby teases.

The two laugh which quickly turns into swearing as Bobby moves on Don’s cock.

Bobby’s hands splay across Don’s stomach, his knees taking the rest of the weight as he slides up and down the length.

Don grabs onto Bobby’s hips, thrusts each time Bobby comes down. Bobby writhes and moans, his eyes shut tight and fingers curling. Don refuses to miss a single second of Bobby, staring so intensely, he wouldn’t be surprised if Bobby caught on fire.

Bobby clenches around him and Don is lost. He can’t think beyond his release, what Bobby will look like when he comes. He’s seen it a million times, but this will outshine them all.

“Don,” Bobby moans, and Don sits up, holding Bobby tight against him.

Their movements are haphazard, yet steady and before Don knows it, he’s coming with a stuttered moan. Bobby keeps grinding against him, repeating his name and Don’s about to pass out when he feels warmth spill on his skin.

They hold onto each other, silence overtaking the room before Bobby pulls back with a brilliant smile.

“Damn, I’ve gotta have you on the channel sometime.”

Don blushes, unsure of what to say as Bobby peels himself off and stumbles to the hallway. Still in a bit of stunned silence, Don takes off the condom and silently thanks Bobby for the trash can that sits right next to the bed.

“Here.”

A washcloth smacks Don in the face and he rolls his eyes at Bobby’s laughter.

“You’re lucky I like you,” Don says as he cleans himself off.

“Fuck yeah, I am,” Bobby curls up next to Don, his body squeaky clean.

Don doesn’t ask and when Bobby takes the washcloth, sets it to the side, they lay back in the bed, tangling up in the sheets.

“So,” Bobby starts. “Is this cool?”

“The sex or…?” Don isn’t sure what Bobby is getting at and he prepares himself for the conversation to go any which way.

“I mean,” Bobby shrugs. “It’s kinda hard to date when we’re on the road so much. But I liked this.”

“No strings attached?” Don offers.

Relief washes over Bobby’s face and he nods. “I mean if it’s alright.”

“Fine with me.”

Don gets it. His last serious relationship ended in an all out war. He doesn’t need the drama and if this never happens again, then at least Don gets to say he slept with Bobby once.

If he’s being honest, this is freeing. Exciting even. There’s no risk of heartbreak and the day they have to say goodbye, at least it will be on good terms.

Yeah, Don thinks he can definitely handle this.

#coxstroke #bobby moch #don hume #bobby moch x don hume #don hume x bobby moch #salix's sideblog escapades #savvylittlecoxswain #y'all ready for this cause i sure aint

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