Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

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

Relationship:

Kip Grady/Scott Hunter

Characters:

Kip Grady, Scott Hunter (Game Changers)

Additional Tags:

Kip Grady loves Scott Hunter, Scott Hunter Loves Kip Grady, Cock Warming, Blow Jobs, Orgasm Denial, Subspace, Face-Fucking, Light Dom/sub, Sexting, Soft Dom Kip Grady, POV Scott Hunter (Game Changers)

Language:

English

Series:

Part 4 of moments I play in the dark

Stats:

Published: 2026-03-04 Words: 4,302 Chapters: 1/1

leaning into me like it's an art

Summary

“Can I sit with you?” Scott asks. “I won’t distract you.”

It’s a code for something specific that they’ve done before, or at least it is to Scott, but Kip also seems to get it right away. He gives him a warm smile and then spreads his legs wide, an invitation.

-
Kip needs to study and Scott needs to calm down. They find a pretty good compromise that works for everyone.

Notes

Scott has been doing really well, learning to ask for what he needs from Kip. Most of the time, he doesn’t technically even have to, because Kip can often read his moods from the smallest things. The way he sighs a little deeper or walks a little faster. When he’s fidgeting more or his voice sounds a little off.

But Kip still makes him ask; waits so patiently until Scott says the right words and then rewards him for it tenfold. And Scott finds a lot of ways to talk around what he actually wants to ask for, but that still seems to count.

Like now, when Kip is sitting on the couch in the middle of a pile of – stuff. Books, laptop, highlighters, notepads. He’s got his glasses on and looks deeply focused on whatever he’s reading, the scratchy sound of pencil on paper occasionally disrupting the silence when he scribbles something into the margin or takes a note. Twice now, Scott saw the tip of his tongue peek out, pressing to his upper lip in concentration, which he always finds unbearably adorable.

So he really doesn’t want to break Kip’s focus, but…he’s itchy. Not physically, but in his mind, deep under his skin, even behind his eyeballs, it feels like. The kind of feeling that makes him want to scratch himself raw, mentally.

It’s not even that anything specific happened. He should be enjoying his day off after a string of way too many away games. And he did, they did, earlier. Kip had classes in the morning and Scott only got back to the city around midday, so they went out to the park and got a late lunch from a food truck. Because they do stuff like that sometimes now. Outside. Together. Scott is still nervous about it, but the world hasn’t ended yet, so he’ll try to take that as a good sign. It was nice, sitting in the sun and just talking about their week.

But now, with Kip’s attention on his homework and not on Scott anymore – the itchiness.

They stayed in Pittsburgh last night and the hotel gave him a room right opposite the elevator. The soft little ding it made every few minutes, every time the doors opened, will probably haunt Scott’s dreams for the rest of the week, because it felt like nails on a chalkboard against his raw nerves. And it was too hot in there, too. He couldn’t figure out the aircon panel with its twelve different buttons and didn’t want to look stupid and have to call reception about it, so he just had a bad night’s sleep instead, feeling sweaty and sorry for himself.

Minor annoyances, maybe, but the season is coming to a close and the Admirals are having to fight hard in the playoffs this year. Every game could be the last; absolutely no one sees them winning the Cup. They’ve been playing well, others have just been playing better. Or at least that’s what Scott said in the post-game interview yesterday, willing himself to believe it.

Anyway. There’s Kip, holding the cure for what ails him, and Scott could just ask. He’s going to. In a minute.

He goes to the kitchen first and cuts up some fruit to put on a little plate for Kip, a study snack that isn’t in any way an excuse to disturb him. Just being thoughtful. He adds a couple of pieces of dark chocolate and a handful of nuts. There, balanced.

Kip looks up from his book when Scott walks over, rubbing at his eyes under his glasses.

“Hey, thank you.”

He takes the snack plate and tilts his head up for a kiss. Leaning over the back of the couch, Scott obliges more than happily, all the while trying not to be too obvious, too needy. He’s not even sure why.

“You okay?” Kip asks and Scott takes a breath. He can do this. He’s not bothering Kip. Everything is fine.

“Yeah, uh. Can I sit with you?” he asks. “I won’t distract you.” It’s a code for something specific that they’ve done before, or at least it is to Scott, but Kip also seems to get it right away. He gives him a warm smile and then spreads his legs wide, an invitation.

“Of course you can. Come here.”

Scott can feel his shoulders relax already, that first obstacle cleared. He did it. He asked. He walks around the couch until he’s standing right in front of Kip and then sinks down, folding himself into the space between Kip’s spread knees.

It’s not exactly the most comfortable position, with Scott’s long legs always somehow in the way, but he knows that won’t even matter in a minute. He rests his head on top of Kip’s thigh, cheek pressing against the soft gray cotton of his sweatpants.

Kip strokes his hand through Scott’s hair and gives his shoulder a little squeeze, then goes back to his reading. Scott closes his eyes, letting the sound of Kip’s even breathing and the occasional rustle of a page being turned ground him. He smiles when he hears the soft crunch of Kip biting down on a slice of apple a moment later, followed by chewing.

He still doesn’t really understand why he likes this so much, or likes any of the things that make his brain go wonderfully silent. In theory, yes, he gets it – he read all about it when Kip first asked. In practice, he knows what’s needed to do it for Kip, too. But the actual experience of being on the receiving end himself is still completely different. Something as simple as sitting at Kip’s feet shouldn’t be able to quiet the buzzing in his head like this. (However, he’s extremely glad it does.)

After a few more minutes, Scott feels something being pressed to his lips, a grape. He opens his mouth obediently, making sure his tongue touches Kip’s fingertips just a little when he takes it from him. Kip makes a small humming sound and strokes Scott’s cheek, then goes back to reading again.

Scott doesn’t want to think about hockey, and while what he wants or not sometimes means very little to his brain, when he’s here with Kip like this, he knows he doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to. His mind drifts, replaying their day together instead. The way Kip looked, so happy to just do something simple together, and so gorgeous with the sun on his face. How one day, he’ll be able to hold his hand when they’re out like this; he doesn’t know how yet, but he’s going to make it happen eventually.

After some more quiet reading, Kip feeds him a piece of chocolate, letting Scott lick his fingers where it has melted against his skin just a little bit. It’s enough to make Scott feel warm all over, his body already anticipating what usually follows having his brain shut off like this. But there’s no rush to it. He’d be happy to sit here all night if that’s what Kip wants.

With a content sigh, Scott turns his head to the side until it’s resting against the crease of Kip’s thigh, his face close to the outline of his dick in his sweats, warm and still soft where Scott’s nose presses against it.

Kip inhales audibly and spreads his legs a little wider.

“Thought you weren’t gonna distract me,” he says, his voice warm and amused.

“I’m not,” Scott promises, and means it. He just wants to be close, to breathe Kip in, to feel warm and intimate and connected. Everything else is up to Kip.

“I know,” Kip replies and strokes his hair again. “You’re being very sweet for me. But – I’m almost done with this chapter anyway and I just need to finish watching a video lecture after that. So. You’re actually okay to distract me a little bit, if you want.”

“A little bit,” Scott repeats, feeling pleasantly fuzzy between Kip’s touch, his voice, and his smell surrounding him. Pheromones, his brain supplies, and Scott doesn’t remember how exactly all of that works, but Kip must surely have the very best ones. 

He keeps listening to the rustling pages, the scratchy sounds of Kip’s pencil, the occasional soft chewing noises for a little longer, before Kip puts the book aside and opens his laptop.

Scott tilts his head up to look at him, smiling when the way his nose and lips drag along Kip’s cock through the fabric make him twitch just a little. He asks permission with his eyes, and Kip grants it with a small nod.

When the video starts playing, Scott pulls the front of Kip’s sweatpants down, very pleased to find he isn’t wearing anything underneath them. Which shouldn’t be as exciting as it is, given that they see each other naked all the time. But still. It feels like a little secret, only for Scott to discover.

The sweats are loose enough that they mostly stay out of the way when Scott leans in to press a kiss to Kip’s skin, mouthing around the base of his cock. Kip makes a pleased little sound in his throat, but doesn’t react any further.

And the thing is – Scott loves when Kip is hard for him. Obviously. He’s only human. But this, being so close when he’s still soft, still a little smaller, is so incredibly intimate that it actually has Scott a little obsessed. Granted, the moment usually doesn’t last long (and the feeling of Kip getting hard against his tongue is always an exquisite pleasure in itself), but while it does, his heart feels incredibly full.

Kip sighs, low and a little breathless, when Scott takes him into his mouth. The lady in the video is explaining something about the composition of Renaissance paintings and Scott thinks that surely, there must be paintings just like this. The connection he feels to Kip right now is so fundamental, so deeply human, that he’s certain people in any time period would have understood it, would have seen the beauty and the art in it.

Scott rests his temple against Kip’s skin and keeps his mouth and tongue very still. Only a small distraction is allowed, after all. He feels his eyes slip closed when Kip puts his hand back into Scott’s hair, rubbing soft little circles into his scalp.

“Feels really good,” Kip whispers and Scott takes a deep breath through his nose, the warmth in his chest expanding at the praise. He will stay right here, like this. Keeping Kip company, keeping him warm and safe and loved while a comfortable sense of peace wraps around Scott’s mind. He doesn’t really notice when his jaw starts aching or his left foot falls asleep; doesn’t even really notice how hard he already is. He’s just floating.

---

It can’t have been more than fifteen or twenty minutes by the time the video finishes and Kip, who has been sitting very still, closes his laptop and looks down at Scott. He’s half-hard in Scott’s mouth by now, and with his focus not otherwise occupied anymore, there’s a subtle shift to the mood in the room. Scott changes positions so that he’s kneeling between Kip’s legs rather than sitting on the floor.

“You look so good like this,” Kip whispers, his previously gentle touch turning to little tugs on the hair at the nape of Scott’s neck. Scott hums around him, soaking up the praise, and starts moving his tongue, his lips, the gentlest little sucking motion.

Kip sighs and puts his other hand to the back of Scott’s head, rocking his hips forward. Scott feels him grow harder in his mouth and adjusts his angle, taking Kip deeper.

“This what you want, baby? For me to fuck your mouth like this?”

Just hearing the words makes Scott shiver and he wants to agree, but with his mouth full, the only sound that comes out is more of a whimper. His breathing picks up when Kip scoots forward on the couch, closer to the edge so he can plant his feet more firmly on the floor, thighs bracketing Scott’s shoulders.

“Hands behind your back, please,” Kip says, always so soft-spoken even when they’re like this. Scott complies, wrapping the fingers of his right hand around his left wrist. It has him a little wobbly on his knees, but Kip will hold him steady if he needs it.

He knows that Kip likes that he doesn’t have to push Scott hard. He could though, and that’s the thought that gets Scott all hot and flustered sometimes.

Kip is strong, maybe stronger than Scott this late in the season, when he’s already lost most of the muscle he put on the summer before and his body tries to revert back to its natural lanky state. Kip bulks up much easier and Scott loves both how sturdy he is and how gently he uses his strength.

Because that’s what Kip says he likes, having that power over Scott without having to take it. And he really doesn’t; he could reduce Scott to this anytime with just a look – pliant and hazy at his feet and desperate to please him. Scott is so glad he’s letting it happen, these days.

Kip is holding his head in both hands now and starts pumping his hips, shallow and careful at first. He strokes his fingers over Scott’s jaw, where it feels tense and a little sore after already holding Kip in his mouth for so long.

“So good for me,” Kip says quietly, and Scott glows with it; it’s all he wants to be. Things become so simple when he’s down like this, there’s nothing but Kip and doing his very best to make him feel good. Scott is so hard in his own sweats by now that it’s bordering on painful, but he knows, he knows – nothing will be done about that anytime soon.

“So sweet and still and quiet.” Kip is starting to sound a little breathless, a little gone himself. “But the best part –”

He pulls almost all the way out, locking eyes with Scott before he pushes back into his mouth, to the very back of his throat, and Scott sputters and breathes through his nose frantically. There’s spit collecting at the corners of his mouth, it’s all so messy and he loves every inch and every second.

“The best part was that you asked.”

Scott can feel his cheeks heat, and he makes a plaintive sound in his throat, coming out strangled around Kip’s cock. He likes that he doesn’t have to say anything. And he likes that, despite asking Kip for it in the most roundabout way, he’s still proud of Scott for it. For coming to him, for not waiting until he couldn’t stand it anymore like that first time.

“I know, sweetheart, I know.” Kip strokes his cheek again, pushing into his throat and making Scott tear up with it. “But I like – when you ask for what you need, oh fuck.” His voice breaks and he makes a high breathy sound, thrusts speeding up.

Scott listens to Kip’s moans, so hard now that he’s aching, but it’s not even to get off. He’s aching to have Kip take his pleasure from him, to use his body like this, in whichever way he wants.  

“Oh my God.” Kip’s mouth sometimes runs off without him a little when he gets close and Scott loves it, loves hearing him talk without a filter. “Fucking – take it, I love you so much, fuck. You look so good, your fucking – mouth, oh God.”

Scott can’t stop the noises spilling out of him when Kip starts coming down his throat, pulling back to fill his mouth and then make a mess of his cheek and chin with the last of it. Scott’s entire body is trembling in sympathy, in desperation, his fingernails digging into skin where he’s still holding on to his wrist behind his back.

Kip’s hands drop to Scott’s shoulders and he leans into him, his body curling around Scott’s head, pressing close and whispering to him; it’s praise and love and a little bit of filth, still.

Scott carefully moves his jaw back and forth, the stiff joints cracking and slowly loosening up again. His eyes flutter closed again when Kip starts kissing his face, forehead and temples and then the corner of his mouth. He can feel Kip’s thumb swipe over his chin, collecting some of the mess, and Scott opens his mouth for him, greedy for another taste already. Kip lets him lick his fingers for a bit and then wipes the rest of it off with a tissue from the box on the coffee table.

“That was amazing, you’re so amazing,” Kip whispers and Scott leans into him, light-headed and fuzzy and God, so hard. “Let’s get you to bed, baby.”

---

There’s a set rule for nights like these now, after they both enjoyed it the first time: Scott doesn’t get to come.

He likes the certainty of it, and he likes knowing that Kip will make it as difficult as possible for him, because that’s what Scott prefers. He likes taking his body to its limits, and this specific one is arguably the healthiest and most fun one he has discovered so far. And it can pushed.

Which is exactly what Kip is doing now. He’s been rubbing Scott through his boxers, so slowly, ever since they got into bed. Scott feels like he’s burning up from the inside out.

“You’re so wet for me,” Kip whispers and presses two fingers into the little patch of precome soaking through the cotton. Scott feels a sound tear out of this throat that he didn’t even know he was capable of making.

“Please,” he rasps, “please, Kip, oh God.”

Everything inside him is coiled tight, from the pressure in his throat to the full, heavy feeling in his balls. He feels like he might combust if Kip so much as looks at him too long.

Kip gives him a squeeze and runs his thumb over the head again, spreading wetness over the fabric, and Scott nearly wails.

“That’s not really what you want though, is it?”

And that’s an out he’s being given, if he really needs to come then Kip will let him, won’t make him suffer any more than Scott actually wants to.

He shakes his head, taking a few heavy breaths in an attempt to regain any sort of control over his body.

“No. No, but –“ He knows he sounds pathetic and he feels it, but it’s easy now, when he’s feeling like this, to ask, to beg. Kip’s touch is absolute torture and he’s begging for more. “Please don’t stop. Just – just a little more.”

Kip kisses him then, so very sweetly. And it would be calming, if not for his hand slipping into Scott’s underwear at the same time, fingers wrapping around him and slowly pumping up and down.

“Keep begging, baby.”

Scott sobs, turning his head into Kip’s shoulder. “Please,” he says again, the word slowly losing its meaning to his ears with how often he’s been repeating it. “Please.”

Kip keeps jerking him, so very slowly that he’s not even in danger of getting close, and he’s floating more freely than he knew he could. He’s so far down inside himself, but also outside himself, everywhere at once.

And it doesn’t feel embarrassing, the way he pleads and writhes and cries out, because if this is what Kip is making him do, then this is exactly what Kip wants from him. He doesn’t have to think about that, and he doesn’t have to be ashamed. He’s free.

---

Scott doesn’t remember falling asleep, but he’s pretty sure it was more of a case of passing out from exhaustion than anything else. It’s definitely no surprise he woke up hard either, after the way Kip took him apart last night. The memory sends a pleasant shiver through him.

And as much as he loves nights like the last one, he also really likes the morning after. Because that’s always when Kip rewards him for all his patience and – where is Kip, actually?

Scott rolls over onto his back to find the other side of the bed empty and sits up.

“Babe?”

“I’m so sorry,” Kip yells from behind the bathroom door, “I’m so late!”

He comes out a moment later, wearing only his boxers and, for some reason, one sock, his hair still wet from the shower and dripping all over his shoulders.

“Uh,” Scott says, his brain still in the very early stages of booting up for the day. He is hard and Kip is almost naked, surely the words that just came out of Kip’s mouth don’t match whatever is meant to happen next…?

“Oh, sweetheart,” Kip sighs, darting over to give him a quick but surprisingly filthy kiss, and then running off again, presumably to find some more clothes to put on. Which is going in an entirely wrong direction.

“Jerk yourself off, I’ll finish you,” he calls over his shoulder and that casual, pragmatic tone probably shouldn’t do anything for Scott, but – well. Maybe he likes being managed, a little bit. Or maybe he just likes doing whatever Kip tells him to.

Either way, it’s an absolute relief to wrap his fingers around himself with a clear goal in mind. He kicks the covers off and then then also takes off his boxers for good measure. Who needs art school, he tries to think at Kip very loudly. We have art at home (and it’s me, naked in bed).

However, either their usual telepathy isn’t working this early in the morning, or Kip is just diligent about his education, because he doesn’t magically materialize back in the bedroom.

Resigning himself to his fate, Scott goes for the quick and efficient approach, stroking himself fast with the ring formed by his thumb and index finger pressed as tight as he can stand it. He thinks about last night, about blowing Kip on the sofa, about the way he talked to him in bed after…

“Kip?” Scott calls again, sounding strained this time.

Kip appears in the doorway, almost fully dressed (now including both socks but still missing one shoe) and his face goes slack when he sees Scott, spread out and hard for him.

“Fuck,” he says quietly, walking over to kneel on the bed between Scott’s spread legs. “You look…”

He doesn’t finish that thought, instead pulling Scott’s hand away and taking him into his mouth.

“Oh God,” Scott groans. Kip’s mouth feels like heaven after the build-up of the past twelve hours, and he’s not holding back at all, taking him deep right away, hollowing his cheeks and bobbing his head vigorously. Scott can feel every muscle in his body tensing up, hands grasping uselessly at Kip’s shoulders and his heels digging into the mattress.

“I’m so –”

…close, he doesn’t get to say anymore, before he’s coming into Kip’s eager mouth, his body shaking through the pulses like it’s never going to stop.

Kip is breathing heavily through his nose, swallowing Scott down like he wants to suck him dry, and then pulls off with a wet sound.

“Jesus. I really gotta go.” He presses a kiss to Scott’s lips and just stares at his face for a second like he can’t make himself move. “Fuck. Love you.”

“Love you,” Scott replies groggily, watching Kip turn and rush towards the front door. “Don’t forget your shoe.”

Scott sinks back into his pillow and closes his eyes. What a morning.

A bit later, he’s woken up from a very unintentional little nap by his phone buzzing on the bedside table and sees a whole barrage of messages coming in. It happens sometimes when Kip texts him on the subway and they only get sent once he has a better signal again.

Kip [7:49]: Sorry to love you and leave you like that, I forgot to set my alarm for class

[7:50]: Promise I’ll make it up to you later!

[7:52]: The subway is a really weird place to be half-hard at 8 in the morning btw. There’s a woman opposite me eating a very smelly cheese sandwich, and a drunk guy looks like he’s about to start licking the handrail. None of which is sexy.

[7:53]: But I can’t stop thinking about you. You have no idea how hot you were last night. The way you looked at me, my God.

[7:54]: I just wanna edge you for hours. Until you cry because you need it so bad.

[7:54]: I’m not even usually like that?? But you make me insane with all the things I wanna do to you. And I love that you trust me with it.

[7:55]: Also doesn’t help that I can still taste you in my mouth.

Scott scrolls up again to reread the messages, his heart pounding in his chest. If he hadn’t just come earlier, he knows he’d be rock hard right now. He’s still trying to come up with a reply when another message comes in, a photo this time.

It’s a picture of Kip’s legs under his desk at uni, knees spread wide and one hand resting high on his thigh. Wish you were (right) here, the caption says.

Scott rolls over onto his stomach and hides his burning face in the pillow. He remembers being worried Kip wouldn’t even be into this a few months ago, but now? Now, he’s created a monster. And he finds that he doesn’t mind it one bit.