Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warning:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

Heated Rivalry (TV)

Relationship:

Kip Grady/Scott Hunter

Characters:

Kip Grady, Scott Hunter (Game Changers)

Additional Tags:

Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Scott Hunter (Game Changers), Omega Kip Grady, implied/referened Mpreg, Pregnancy Kink, Scenting, Mating Bites, Post-Episode: s01e05 I'll Believe in Anything (Heated Rivalry), Wild headspace, Just bonkers really

Language:

English

Stats:

Published: 2026-02-19 Words: 1,590 Chapters: 1/1

All the Dishes Rattle

Summary

After the Cup, everything is on the table.

Or: Scott is an intense guy. Kip intensely wants his babies. They’re done waiting.

Notes

I got a little high on my own supply with this one, no lie. This is the “Kip is just as crazy as Scott, actually” fic that’s been percolating since these kids moved in together after one date, filtered through the lens of Alpha/Omega.

Does this fic have any redeeming literary value? **raspberry noise**

Just enjoy the pheromones. Kip and Scott certainly are.

“This is gonna be a lot,” Scott says to him, nearly inaudible in the roar of the crowd. 

“I’m ready for a lot,” Kip shouts back. Scott reads the words off his lips with hot eyes and pulls him back in for another kiss.

*

A hundred reporters shout for Scott’s attention during the press scrum, everyone ignoring the gleaming cup set in the center of the table. Do they live together? Are they mated? Are they planning on kids? 

Soon, soon and soon, Kip thinks, watching on the monitors from the manager’s office.

Hair still wet from the showers, Scott is incandescent, grinning ear to ear. He leans into the microphone:

“I have no comments regarding my personal life at this time.” 

That’s right you don’t. Kip touches the screen over Scott’s face, the glass warm against his fingertips. We have some changes to make first.

*

Team security puts them in a car, and the five yard stretch of pavement to the curb is the most dangerous part of the night. Scott keeps a hand on Kip’s back like it’s held there by a magnet, and when some guy with a camera gets a little too in Kip’s face, Scott says, in a tone of voice that Kip has never heard before: “Take a big step back.” 

Everyone does. Scott gets them in the car.

If Kip wasn’t ovulating already he certainly is now. 

Scott’s apartment is dark and safe. A den. (They’re about to make it one, anyway.) 

They don’t make it much further than the front door. Scott pushes him up against the weird room divider shelf unit. A crash of ceramic lets them know that at least one designer-selected vase has fallen casualty to how bad Scott needs to have his mouth all over Kip, right now. The hard edge of the modular shelves bites into Kip’s shoulders. He pulls on Scott’s compression top hard enough to pop a seam. 

The phone rings (probably the tenth time out of about a million to come) and Scott yanks the landline connection out of the wall. The apartment falls silent, except for their heavy breathing. Except for the way their scent is screaming desire. 

“Ok, um. Wow,” Kip says as Scott sheds his shirt. “So I’m pretty sure we’re on the same page here, but I just wanted to clarify the order of events.” 

Scott pulls Kip’s belt free from its loops. “Mhm. I’m listening,” he promises, sliding eager fingertips under Kip’s jeans.  

“So.” Kip rolls his face against the dark thatch of hair on Scott’s chest. “Step one: I’m gonna go flush my birth control.” 

Scott tangibly shivers as his scent thickens in the room. He presses his mouth to Kip’s temple. “Keep talking.” 

Kip loops his arms around Scott’s lower back. “Step two: we fuck like wild animals, and you get your teeth in my throat.” 

“Fuck. Fuck, yes.” 

“Step three is a little complicated.” 

Scott nuzzles into Kip’s mouth, the light touch of his lips belying the heavy press of his hands. “Oh yeah?”  

“Yeah,” Kip murmurs. “It’s you, knotting me over and over until I’m so full that it takes.” 

Scott is the kind of guy who needs. So much. He needs, and he arranged his whole life to hide that need, so when he lets it out it’s like a black hole, beautiful and terrifying. Kip thought Scott was in need the first time he got to suck Kip’s dick, or the first time he fucked him. The first time Kip had fucked Scott, that was need, surely. (He’d begged. It was so beautiful. Harder. More. Please.)

It was nothing, not like this. Not the way Scott sucks in air like he’s in pain, like Kip is cutting it out of him. This, the biggest, darkest, most secret Need that even Scott “I’m asking for what I want” Hunter could never be selfish enough to demand from Kip, given the conditions it would be under. Could never even put to words in case it was slapped out of his hands. 

Scott stares at Kip with scared eyes and wants.  

He has no idea. Kip is going to fill him up, the whole bottomless pit of him, until there’s no space for wanting left. They’ve earned it, and Kip wants it, so Scott is going to have it. Kip clasps Scott’s face in his hands, pushing his thumbs through the bristly playoff growth.

“Step one first,” Kip reminds him, and after a long moment Scott breathes again, deep and shuddering. Nods. Laughs, even. 

“Yeah. Okay.”

*

“I’ll bleed for a couple of days, then go straight into heat,” Kip says while Scott watches him pop each little tablet from the blister pack with a possessive hand under his shirt. “So give that timeline to your publicist.” 

“Right.” Scott hooks his chin over Kip’s shoulder and kisses under his jaw. “We can still go for it, like, right now, though. Right?” 

“Oh, we definitely are.” Kip tosses the empty wheel in the bathroom trash. Scott gets two hands under his ass and lifts him like he weighs nothing. 

“Step two?” he double checks. 

“Step two,” Kip confirms. 

*

Scott carries him easily. He’s coming off a hard game so Kip can feel the shake in his biceps and quads, the harsh breathing that comes quicker when he’s running on empty. But Scott won’t drop him. 

Kip is going to make this man a father. 

He’s pretty sure that armed with that knowledge, Scott could lift a car off the curb right now.

*

“You have to tell me if I’m too rough. I want you so bad, I feel…I feel crazy.” 

Scott laid him out on the dining room table, of all places. Kip is not sure that said table is going to survive this encounter. And who cares? 

Not him.

“You can’t be too rough.” 

Scott chuffs against Kip’s breastbone, hard. Almost a snarl. “I can. I’m—” 

“I want bruises.” Kip gets a grip on Scott’s hair and pulls his head back, pulling a heady grunt from an Alpha forced to bare his throat. He crunches up to put his mouth there and scrapes his teeth against tender skin. “I want to give them back to you where everyone can see.” 

“Fuck.” Scott tugs him to the edge of the table so he can rut his covered erection into the heat between Kip’s legs. Kip holds on. He kisses where he just left the rosy mark of his mouth. Whispers into the skin, “I want you to bite down until it scars.” 

Scott’s eyes are rolling under closed lids. He’s struggling for control. “Baby—” 

Kip catches his mouth. Licks inside. Bites his bottom lip, hard. Scott trills into the pleasure and the pain in that deep rumbling register that Kip can feel in his bones.

“I’m crazy, too.” Kip promises when they break apart. And then, one more promise, because it’s their night and he wants Scott to hear it: “I am going to give you a family.” 

Scott pins him hard against unforgiving wood by the wrists, chest heaving like the breath is getting carved out of him.  

“You are my family.” Scott pushes their bodies together in that way he does, the whole of him heavy against Kip in a long, sinuous line. Like there’s not an inch of them he can stand to have not touching. “I should never have made you wait.” 

“We’re not waiting anymore.” Kip dips up for a kiss, and tips his head back, offering his throat. “Put your pups in me.” 

“Yeah. Jesus, yes.” Scott climbs fully onto the table to the sound of a dangerous creak. 

They take the risk.

*

“Step three,” Kip pants, getting fucked within an inch of his life with Scott’s jaw still locked into the raw ache high on his throat where no collar will hide it. “Step three, please—Alpha—” 

The scent is already unreal, and when Kip says that word it throbs through them both again. Scott can’t speak but it’s shouting from his pores, the promise that’s literally changing their blood chemistry. He pulls his hands from Kip’s hips, leaving the shadow of his fingerprints behind so he can work the full strength of his arm over Kip’s shoulders and force him down onto his swelling knot. 

It hurts, and it should, because they’re finally resetting the broken bone they let heal wrong. Scott manages to unlock his jaw and kisses Kip with a bloody mouth while he fills him up and they’re finally in the shape they were meant to be. 

*

They lay tied in the wreckage of the dining room table after the center leaf finally gives out under their weight. Kip thinks he might have a splinter somewhere unmentionable and he does not care. 

His eyes are hot, and Scott is hushing him, kissing over his cheeks over and over until Kip realizes it’s because he’s brushing away tears. 

“Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” Scott pushes his face into Kip’s, still spreading scent like they aren’t saturated in each other. “God, finally. I’ve got you.” 

His mate holds him, smoothing his hands over Kip’s belly and touching the new mark on his throat so, so carefully. Kip puts his face in Scott’s chest and breathes. 

Kip has been needing, too. 

Not anymore. 

First game of the season against Toronto. Kip is there with Scott’s reserved tickets. 

He’s wearing his jersey. 

He’s displaying his mark. 

He’s carrying his baby. 

The Admirals win the season opener on home ice.