Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Heated Rivalry (TV)

Relationship:

Kip Grady/Scott Hunter

Characters:

Scott Hunter (Game Changers), Kip Grady

Additional Tags:

Manhandling, CMNM | Clothed Male Naked Male, Restraints, Handcuffs, Orgasm Edging, Orgasm Control, Rimming, Begging, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Cuddling & Snuggling, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping

Language:

English

Series:

Part 2 of Appeasing the Hockey Gods

Stats:

Published: 2025-12-22 Words: 3,042 Chapters: 1/1

Another Way to Worship

Summary

If you've read Appeasing the Hockey Gods - this is Scott worshiping Kip for the Hockey Gods. Kip offers up Anything Scott wants. And what Scot wants is to tie his man up and worship him, until Kip is begging to come.

If you haven't read Appeasing the Hockey Gods - this is Scott tying Kip to the bed and worshipping Kip ;) but also go read Appeasing the Hockey Gods for the fluffy coming out before this scene that has way to many weird Smoothie names.

Notes

Honestly don't know how this happened. Finished Appeasing the Hockey Gods and then these boys just started going at it.

The game following Scott coming out to his friends was one of the best. They all were at the top of their game. And they pulled out a win with Kip in the stands. 

Now, the ride back to Scott's apartment was charged with a different kind of energy. Not the relaxed, post-game camaraderie, but a taut, humming wire of adrenaline and relief. Scott had been teased in the locker room by Carter and Greg about going to see his special someone and Scott was thrilled by being able to answer in the affirmative. 

He was thrilled to be able to rest his hand on Kip's thigh, after having him come to the game and use his tickets, and it was driving him crazy that Kip had covered his hand with his own, and was playing with his fingers, stroking each one with one hand while also letting their finger lace  together with the other. They didn't need to speak. The electricity humming between them said it all of what tonight was about to become. 

They barely made it inside the door. The second it clicked shut behind them, Scott had Kip pinned against the wall, their bodies pressed together from chest to knee. The kiss wasn't gentle; it was hungry, a devouring, desperate thing. Scott's hands were everywhere, tangled in Kip's hair, gripping his shoulder, sliding down to grab a handful of his ass and pull him impossibly closer.

"Oh my God, Scott," Kip gasped when they finally broke apart, both of them breathing hard. "I am so proud of you. You have no idea. That was… you were incredible. I'm so happy."

He was still talking, a stream of proud, happy words pouring out of him, but Scott wasn't processing the sentences, just the tone. The love. He bent and scooped Kip up, one arm under his knees, the other around his back, lifting him with the easy strength of a professional athlete. Kip let out a surprised laugh, his arms winding around Scott's neck.

"Anything you want tonight," Kip whispered against his ear, his breath hot. "Anything at all. You name it."

Scott carried them toward the bedroom, stopping to press Kip against the doorframe for another searing kiss. He pulled back just enough to look into Kip's eyes, the frantic energy from moments before banked into something else, something deeper and more intense.

"Tonight," Scott said, his voice a low, possessive rumble that vibrated through Kip's entire body, "I want to worship you."

The words hung in the air between them, heavy with meaning. Worship. It was a word that implied reverence, devotion, a complete and utter surrender to another's divinity. 

And in that moment, with Scott looking at him like he was the only thing that mattered in the universe, Kip felt divine.

Scott carried him to the bed and laid him down gently, a stark contrast to the rough, desperate urgency from earlier. 

Scott knelt on the bed beside him, not touching yet, just looking. His gaze was a physical caress, hot and heavy, cataloging every inch of Kip's body as if seeing it for the first time. 

He reached out, but instead of touching, he hooked a finger in the hem of Kip's shirt. "This," he murmured, "needs to go."

He slowly, painstakingly, worked the shirt up and over Kip's head, tossing it aside. His hands went to the button of Kip's jeans, and he made quick work of them, pulling them off along with his underwear until Kip was completely bare, laid out against the dark sheets.

Kip instinctively moved to sit up, to return the favor, to strip Scott of his own clothes, but Scott placed a firm but gentle hand on his chest, pushing him back down. "Uh-uh," he said softly. "Not yet. Tonight, I'm looking."

He looked his fill, his eyes tracing the line of Kip's collarbones, the dusting of hair on his chest, the lean muscles of his stomach, the strength in his thighs. 

"You have no idea, do you?" Scott asked, his voice thick with awe. "How much I like this. All of this." He gestured vaguely at Kip's body, a sweeping, reverent motion. 

"The way you feel, the way you taste, the sounds you make when I touch you. It's... incredible."

He leaned over Kip, reaching into the nightstand drawer. He pulled out two long, silk scarves, a deep, dark blue that would look stunning against Kip's skin. Kip's breath hitched, his eyes widening as understanding dawned.

"Will you be good for me, Kip?" Scott asked, holding up the scarves. "Will you let me worship you?"

A slow, teasing smile spread across Kip's face, a flicker of his usual irreverence returning. "I don't know," he said, his voice light. "I thought you only worshipped the Hockey Gods."

Scott chuckled, a low, warm sound that sent a shiver down Kip's spine. He moved to tie the first scarf around Kip's wrist, securing it to the bedpost with a practiced knot. 

"Oh, my darling," he murmured, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the inside of Kip's wrist. "The Hockey Gods need to be appeased through ritual and sacrifice." 

He moved to the other side, tying Kip's other wrist to the opposite post, stretching his arms out above his head. He paused, admiring his handiwork, the sight of Kip spread out and waiting for him. 

"You," he whispered, his lips brushing against Kip's ear. "You will be worshipped. And the joy we find... that will be our offering to them."

The words, spoken with such conviction, sent a thrill through Kip. "Good?," Scott said, a satisfied smile on his face as he watched Kip's reaction. 

Kip tested the restraints, the silk a soft, unyielding pressure against his skin, before answering “Good,” with his own smile.

He was completely at Scott's mercy, and the thought was terrifying and exhilarating in equal measure.

"Now, where was I?" He settled back on his heels, his eyes roaming over Kip's body with a hungry, appreciative gaze. "Ah, yes. The worship."

He started with a kiss. It wasn't a frantic, desperate kiss like the ones from before, but a slow, deliberate exploration. 

He kissed Kip's forehead, his eyelids, the tip of his nose. He traced the line of his jaw with his tongue, then moved to his neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin there, leaving a trail of marks that would be a visible reminder of this night.

Kip was already writhing, a low whine building in his throat as Scott's lips and tongue mapped the territory of his chest. He bucked his hips, seeking friction, seeking more, but Scott was maddeningly elusive, always pulling away just before Kip could find the relief he craved.

"Patience," Scott chided gently, a smirk playing on his lips. "We're making an offering, remember? It takes time."

He finally pulled away, standing up beside the bed. Kip watched, mesmerized, as Scott began to undress himself. He didn't rush. He peeled off his shirt, revealing the hard, muscular planes of his chest and stomach, the scars and bruises that were a map of his career. 

He unbuckled his belt, the slow slide of leather through denim a provocative sound in the quiet room. 

He pushed his jeans down, then his boxers, until he was standing there, completely nude, a statue of masculine perfection bathed in the soft moonlight.

Kip couldn't tear his eyes away. He had never been able to tear his eyes away not since their first night together. 

But this was different. This was a deliberate display, a slow, confident unveiling. And as Scott stood there, his body a study in strength and grace, Kip felt a surge of desire so intense it was almost painful. 

He spread his legs, a silent, subconscious invitation, an acknowledgment that Scott belonged there, between his thighs.

Scott saw the gesture, and a slow, predatory smile spread across his face. He moved back to the bed, crawling onto it with a fluid, animal grace. He didn't settle between Kip's legs, though. Instead, he knelt beside him, his hands starting a slow, deliberate exploration of Kip's body. 

He traced the line of Kip's collarbones, then moved down, circling a nipple with a fingertip, watching as it pebbled under his touch. He leaned down, taking it into his mouth, sucking gently, then biting down just hard enough to send a jolt of pleasure-pain straight to Kip's groin.

He repeated the action on the other side, then moved lower, his hands and his mouth working in tandem. He traced the lines of Kip's ribs, the dip of his navel, the sensitive skin on the inside of his thighs. 

He was methodical, relentless, a study in controlled arousal. 

He was appreciating every inch of Kip's body, committing it to memory, and the attention was both intoxicating and maddening.

Kip was a writhing, whimpering mess. He pulled at the restraints, the silk a frustratingly soft, unyielding pressure against his wrists. 

He wanted to touch, to feel, to reciprocate, but Scott had denied him that, and the denial was a powerful aphrodisiac. 

He was completely at Scott's mercy, and the thought was both terrifying and exhilarating.

"Scott, please," he begged, his voice a ragged, breathless plea. "Please, I need..."

"I know what you need," Scott murmured, his lips brushing against the head of Kip's cock. The contact was fleeting, a ghost of a touch, but it was enough to make Kip cry out. "But not yet."

He moved lower, bypassing the one place Kip desperately wanted him to go with a deliberate slowness that bordered on cruelty. 

Scott's lips ghosted over the sensitive skin of Kip's inner thighs, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. 

He nipped at the tender flesh there, soothing the marks with his tongue, his eyes fixed on Kip's face, watching as Kip's eyelids fluttered and his breath hitched. 

He was a predator savoring his prey, and the knowledge that he was the cause of Kip's unraveling.

He settled between his legs, pushing them wider, opening him up, exposing him completely. The position was vulnerable, intimate, and Kip felt a flush of heat crawl up his neck, a mixture of embarrassment and raw desire. He was completely Scott’s, laid bare for his perusal, and the thought was both terrifying and exhilarating.

And then he began to worship in earnest. 

His tongue traced a path from Kip's perineum to his entrance, a slow, deliberate exploration that made Kip's entire body go rigid. 

The touch was electric, a jolt of pleasure that shot straight up his spine. It was a possessive, claiming gesture, a silent declaration of intent that left Kip breathless and wanting.

He circled the tight furl of muscle, teasing, tasting, before finally, finally pushing inside. The sensation was overwhelming, a wave of pleasure so intense it was almost painful. 

Kip's back arched off the bed, a choked sob tearing from his throat. 

His hands, still bound to the bedposts, clenched into fists, the silk a frustratingly soft, unyielding pressure against his wrists. He wanted to touch, to feel, to reciprocate, but Scott had denied him that, and the being at Scott’s mercy was driving Kip mad.

Scott worked him with his tongue, a slow, maddening rhythm that was designed to drive him wild. He was methodical, relentless, a study in controlled arousal.

He would pull back, letting Kip cool down, before diving back in, his movements more demanding, more intense. It was a torturous, exquisite cycle of pleasure and denial, and Kip was lost in it, a ship tossed on a stormy sea of sensation.

He could feel the tension coiling in his stomach, a tight, hot knot that pulled tighter with every pass of Scott's tongue. He was teetering on the edge, the pleasure so sharp and all-consuming it was almost frightening. 

He tried to hold on, to make this moment last, but Scott seemed to know. And he pulled away the final time before the rhythm could become faster, more demanding.

A sharp, broken cry tore from Kip's throat as he was left tittering on the edge. 

Scott answered with gentle cooling kisses to the inside of his thighs and then worked his way back up his stomach and chest to lay kisses all over his face. 

When Kip was back to the relaxed but still wanton heap. His mind went blissfully, wonderfully blank, the world dissolving into a haze of white light and pure sensation.

That’s when Scott finally added a finger, then two, the stretch a delicious, burning ache that made Kip's toes curl against the sheets. 

Scott's fingers were thick and long, his movements confident and sure. He crooked them just so, finding that spot inside Kip that made him see stars, that sent jolts of white-hot pleasure ricocheting through his entire body. 

He was building him up, stoking the fire in Kip's belly, pushing him closer and closer back to the edge, only to pull back at the last moment, leaving him gasping and frustrated, his body thrumming with unfulfilled need. 

Over and over, he brought him to the brink, now on his fingers working in a maddening, expert rhythm, only to deny him the release he so desperately craved. 

It was torture, the most exquisite, soul-shattering torture Kip had ever experienced. His mind was a haze of pleasure and desperation, his body a live wire of sensation. 

The silk restraints chafed against his wrists, a constant reminder of his vulnerability, of his complete and utter surrender to Scott's will. 

"Please, Scott, please," Kip begged, his voice a ragged, breathless plea, his body trembling with the force of his need. "I can't... I can't take anymore." 

He was close, so close, the pleasure coiling in his gut like a spring, ready to snap. He needed to come, needed it like he needed to breathe, and Scott was the only one who could give it to him.

"Shh," Scott murmured, withdrawing his fingers and moving back up Kip's body. He captured his lips in a searing kiss, a kiss that was full of possession and promise. "I've got you."

He positioned himself between Kip's thighs, the head of his cock nudging against Kip's entrance. He looked down at him, his eyes dark with a mix of love and lust. "You're mine," he said, his voice a low, possessive growl. "All mine."

And then he pushed in, a slow, relentless slide that filled Kip completely. He paused, buried to the hilt, giving Kip a moment to adjust to the overwhelming fullness. The sensation was incredible, a perfect, stretching burn that grounded them both.

"Scott," Kip whispered, his hands clenching and unclenching in their restraints. "Please... move."

And move he did. 

He started with a slow, rolling rhythm, a deep, possessive grind that hit all the right spots. He was in complete control, setting a pace that was designed to drive them both wild. 

He watched Kip's face, his expression a mask of intense concentration, as if he was memorizing every flicker of pleasure, every gasp and moan. 

The pace was punishing, a relentless assault on Kip's senses that pushed him closer and closer to the edge. 

He could feel the tension coiling in his stomach, a tight, hot knot that pulled tighter with every powerful roll of Scott's hips. He was teetering again on the brink, the pleasure so sharp and all-consuming it was almost frightening. 

He tried to hold on, to make this moment last, but Scott finally didn’t stop. He kept his pace, going faster and harder “Go on, come for me.”

And then he let go.

He grabbed Kip's hips, holding him in a bruising grip as he drove into him, hard and fast. 

The bedframe slammed against the wall, the sound a rhythmic, percussive beat that underscored the frantic, desperate energy of their coupling. 

The room was filled with the sounds of their lovemaking, the slap of skin on skin, their ragged breaths, their sharp, broken cries. 

It was a wild, untamed thing, a beautiful, messy, perfect collision of bodies and souls.

And then, with a final, brutal thrust, Scott came, his body shuddering with the force of his release. 

He collapsed on top of Kip, his head buried in the crook of his neck, their bodies slick with sweat. 

He was a heavy, warm weight, a welcome anchor in the aftermath of their shared storm. 

For a long moment, they lay tangled together, a mess of sweaty limbs and ragged breaths. The only sound in the room was the frantic thumping of their hearts, gradually slowing, synching into a single, steady rhythm. 

The air was thick with the scent of sex and sweat, the musky, intimate perfume of their shared pleasure.

Eventually, Scott stirred, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the damp skin of Kip's shoulder. 

He carefully shifted, untying the silk scarves from Kip's wrists. The skin there was red and raw, a visible reminder of their passionate encounter. 

Scott took each of Kip's hands in his, gently massaging the feeling back into them, then brought them to his lips, pressing a soft, reverent kiss to each wrist.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft, a stark contrast to the rough, demanding tone he'd used moments before.

"Better than okay," Kip murmured, a lazy, contented smile spreading across his face. 

He felt drunk, sated, and utterly, completely claimed. He reached up, tracing the line of Scott's jaw with a fingertip. "You, Scott Hunter, are full of surprises."

Scott rolled onto his side, "Good, surprises?" pulling Kip into his arms. 

"The best, next time I'm tying you up and you can be the offering to your Hockey Gods." Scott couldn't help the blush at the thought and if his cock twitching was anything to go by he was absolutely interested in Kip's offer. 

He buried his face in Kip's hair, inhaling the scent of him, a mixture of his shampoo and their shared musk. "I love you," he whispered, the words a raw, vulnerable confession.

"I love you, too," Kip whispered back, his heart swelling with a wave of affection so intense it was almost painful. He snuggled closer, burrowing into Scott's embrace, feeling safe and cherished and loved.