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:

Oral Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, Scott Hunter Loves Kip Grady, Kip Grady loves Scott Hunter, Scott Hunter Needs a Hug (Game Changers), Soft Dom Kip Grady, Blow Jobs, POV Scott Hunter (Game Changers)

Language:

English

Series:

Part 2 of moments I play in the dark

Stats:

Published: 2026-02-13 Words: 3,708 Chapters: 1/1

pull me like a ripcord

Summary

“When you walk through this door? It doesn’t matter what happened on the ice.”

Scott wants to argue and he knows Kip can tell. He needs to remember all his mistakes so he can analyze them and learn and do better, isn’t that what people say? Learn from your failures. Work on your weak spots. Improve. Try harder.
 

-
Scott Hunter is good at asking for what he wants. He is terrible at asking for what he needs.

Notes

Scott Hunter is good at asking for what he wants. He is terrible at asking for what he needs.

That would require admitting he needs things from other people, and he doesn’t. He’s fine.

See, it’s okay for others – for Kip to need Scott to take him out of his head, to take care of him that way sometimes. Scott likes doing that; he had no idea sex could have that effect on people, could be used like that. He’s learned a lot with Kip.

And does it sound good, feeling the way Kip clearly does whenever they do that kind of thing? Sure. Scott would probably like it, he can admit that much.

But it’s not like he needs it. It’s not like he’d want to make Kip go through all that effort just to give him a moment of quiet in his head.

(It’s not an effort.)

(Kip would probably love to do it.)

So, yeah. It’s a moot point. He’s not going to ask.

---

If sometimes Scott gets a little glimpse of what it might feel like, well. That’s just a lucky coincidence.

If his brain goes “!!!” and then completely shuts off when Kip playfully collapses on top of him getting into bed after a late night one time, putting his full body weight on Scott and knocking the breath out of him, well. It’s nice that that happened. It’s even nicer that Kip was so tired he nearly fell asleep there, a dead weight on him for several minutes. But it doesn’t mean Scott needs to explore that further. It’s just science, it’s why people like weighted blankets.

And if his heart does a funny little flip in his chest that one time when he’s kneeling on the floor putting together the new coffee table and Kip is standing next to him reading out the instructions so that Scott has to crane up his neck to look at him, and then Kip reaches for him and cups his face and tips his chin up – that’s also just a nice, coincidental thing that somehow occurred and that Scott happened to enjoy. And maybe he replayed in his head a few times – okay, many times – after. It’s not like he’s going to actively angle for that kind of thing though.

Also, if he feels like his entire body positively melts whenever he puts his head in Kip’s lap when they’re on the couch together and Kip runs his fingers through Scott’s hair and gives him a little scalp massage – that’s perfectly natural to enjoy. Anyone would like that. It’s just relaxing and probably has nothing to do with the way Kip will tug on his hair ever so slightly and tilt his head back so that he can lean down for a kiss and Scott feels completely safe and surrounded by him. And every now and then, he gets fed little snacks. Who wouldn’t enjoy that?

Kip sometimes gives Scott a private little smile in these moments, like he has him all figured out. Like he’s just waiting for Scott to say the word.

And it makes Scott think that Kip could just – do something. Or just tell Scott to do something. He could just give him what he thinks Scott needs, and they wouldn’t have to talk about it, he wouldn’t have to ask, to admit –

But that’s probably sort of the point. He trusts Kip with everything; he should be able to trust him with this. And he does, it’s not that. It’s more that Scott doesn’t trust himself. What if he opens up something he can’t contain? What if that carefully constructed house of cards he lives in, where he doesn’t need anyone or anything and people lean on him, not the other way around – what if all that comes crashing down if he cracks the wrong door open?

---

Scott eventually gets his wish granted.

He’s tearing himself apart after a lost game – it was stupid, so stupid, he could have made that shot but he just wasn’t fast enough, and maybe everyone is right, maybe he’s lost it this season (he knows he hasn’t). His team depends on him, this entire city depends on him (they don’t), and he’s letting them down.

He doesn’t deserve the C on his jersey, doesn’t deserve the money they pay him, and he’ll just have to work harder, be better, maybe if he works hard enough, he can make up for it, for being such a disappointment to everyone (he isn’t), because at least he needs to try –

“Scott.” Kip’s voice somehow manages to break him out of his thoughts and Scott can tell by the look on Kip’s face that he’s been trying to talk to him for a while now.

Scott is sitting on the bed in his underwear; he’s supposed to go to sleep, but how can he when all his body wants to do is run, when it vigorously requests punishment to quiet the voices in his head.

He’s only here because Kip is here and coming home to Kip is more important than anything. Normally he’d be on a treadmill somewhere, and maybe that’s what he should have done. At least for a little bit until he went home and burdened Kip with his foul mood and his doubts and his failures, at least until his legs would have hurt enough and his lungs would have burned enough to drown out his thoughts.

Because the thing is, it works. It’s a tried-and-true process. He knows he’s spiraling, he’ll push himself past his limits so that he can sleep and then the next morning, he’ll do better. He’ll be sore and tired and determined. It’s what pushes him forward, what makes him a good athlete, what has had him breaking records and winning trophies all his life.

“Scott,” Kip repeats and he sounds…not annoyed, exactly, but serious. “Get into bed.”

Scott wants to argue with that, because it’s not like he’ll be able to sleep anyway; he’s too wired and still too deep in his head and what’s the point of anything?

“I need you to stop tearing yourself apart,” Kip says softly and something inside Scott shifts a little bit. He feels ashamed suddenly, for being so self-absorbed. If there is something Kip needs, Scott wants nothing more than to deliver it. Unfortunately, it conflicts with his process, in this case.

Scott’s brain stalls for a moment and Kip solves that problem by staring him down with gentle, patient eyes until he complies and lies down on top of the covers at least, half-propped up on a pillow behind him.

Kip climbs onto the bed after him and gets right on top of him, sitting on Scott’s thighs.

And Scott really does love this, the solid weight of Kip on him. He may be shorter than Scott, but he is strong, heavy when he wants to be. Broad shoulders that could carry the weight of the world if they needed to (he should never have to). Arms that Scott would probably write sonnets about if he had a way with words.

“I don’t want you to do that anymore,” Kip says quietly and oh, he’s playing so dirty. I want. I need. He takes both of Scott’s hands and laces their fingers together, pulls one of them to his mouth and kisses Scott’s knuckles.

Scott swallows hard and closes his eyes. It’s almost too much to look at Kip. He’s circling around the edges of an ancient wound, could be splitting Scott open any moment. And Scott can’t do that, can’t let him, but he can’t bear disappointing Kip either. More stalling.

“Stop that,” Kip admonishes. “Look at me.”

He does.

“When you walk through this door? It doesn’t matter what happened on the ice.”

Scott wants to argue and he knows Kip can tell. He needs to remember all his mistakes so he can analyze them and learn and do better, isn’t that what people say? Learn from your failures. Work on your weak spots. Improve. Try harder.

“Are you gonna let me take care of you?” Kip asks and a part of Scott wants to say no, not right now, not over this. A bigger part of him wants to let go and lean into what he’s been fighting for weeks now, wants to let him see everything and help Scott carry it. He wants to give himself over into Kip’s hands, strong and solid like the rest of him. Perfectly capable of holding Scott steady, if only he’ll let him.

He breathes through the feeling and finally falters.

“Would you?” Scott feels his voice shake.

“Sweetheart, of course. Whatever you need.” Kip has been gently, absently massaging Scott’s hand, stroking over his knuckles, pressing on the heel of his palm. Scott didn’t know it’s even possible to carry tension there, it’s usually up in his shoulders, but – apparently, yes. It feels nice anyway.

“I just – I can see some things that you like, but you’re gonna have to tell me. What is it for you? What does it? Do you want – pain?” Kip sounds a little hesitant at the prospect.

Scott thinks about it for a moment. It is his go-to on days like these after all, pain and exhaustion until his body shuts down enough so he can sleep. It works. But is that what he wants? From Kip?

“No,” he says softly. “Not pain, just –”

Just love me, he wants to say, but that’s maybe a little vague. How good and easy would it be now if they’d actually talked about this at some point, if Scott had ever thought about what he needed before and not waited until the very last moment? But he hasn’t, and so he says the first thing that pops into his head, before even thinking about whether it makes sense.

“I think I just…need to be still. I need to – not run. Don’t let me run.”

“Okay,” Kip breathes. “Yeah, we can do that. Let me…”

Kip climbs off Scott’s lap and motions for him to sit up. He squeezes in behind Scott to sit up against the headboard, his legs either side of Scott’s hips, arms coming up around his chest.

He has (purposely? – probably) trapped Scott’s arms against his sides and arranges their bodies until Scott has slid down so low that he can rest his head back against Kip’s shoulder. Finally, Kip hooks his feet over Scott’s legs, spreading his knees apart.

Well, Scott definitely can’t run anywhere like this. He can still feel the anxiety, thrumming away under his skin, but there’s a bit of a distance now. More interesting things to focus on, like the way he feels both kind of trapped and safely held with Kip’s arms tightly around him like this; and spread open in a way that feels more vulnerable than it usually does.

And maybe he can’t move his body much, but he can turn his head to the side and tuck his face against Kip’s neck, inhaling his familiar scent. The stubble on Kip’s jaw presses against Scott’s forehead like this, dragging in a pleasantly prickly way when he rubs his nose into Kip’s skin.

“Feel okay?” Kip asks and Scott nods.

Kip’s hand comes up to the side of Scott’s neck, his thumb stroking over his pulse point, where he knows Kip will feel his heart still beating too fast, his blood pumping too forcefully.

Barely perceptible, Kip starts swaying them from side to side. Just a tiny, fluid movement, but something to help Scott feel less rigid in his shoulders.

They just breathe together for a few minutes before Kip moves his hand and presses the heel of his palm down over Scott’s sternum, fingers splayed wide and resting over his collarbones.

Scott stutters out a breath against Kip’s skin and lets his body sort through the input. For a split second, his initial reaction is alertness, the sensation of pressure on his chest never usually a good sign, but then it pretty much immediately turns into a safety signal. Whatever happens, Kip will hold him together.

After a few moments, Kip moves his hand up, and that – his palm on Scott’s throat, his fingers taking hold of his chin and tipping Scott’s head back –

Scott, in what feels like a bit of an overreaction but is entirely outside of his control, starts panting, his eyes wide and searching for Kip’s.

“Hey, hey”, Kip soothes, “I just wanted to kiss you.”

And Scott wants to explain – he’s not distressed by any of this, he just got wildly turned on much too quickly. But the way Kip smiles at him and then bends down to kiss him – he probably knows exactly what’s going on.

Scott drinks in Kip’s kisses like the first drop of water in a desert, the way Kip’s hand still rests on his throat making him almost dizzy with all the ideas he has about that.

“Oh sweetheart,” Kip says softly when they break apart. “You do need this. Why didn’t you say?”

Scott closes his eyes and wants to hide his face against Kip’s shoulder again, but Kip isn’t letting him, his grip on Scott’s jaw gentle but firm. He feels exposed, but it’s not uncomfortable.

“I don’t know,” he finally says. “It’s hard to – hard to ask.”

Kip rewards him for the admission with more kisses, his other hand coming up to Scott’s chest. Scott draws in another sharp breath when Kip’s thumb drags over his nipple, raising goosebumps on his skin.

“I think next time you feel like this” – and to his credit, Kip doesn’t say next time you fail and then lose your shit about it, because he doesn’t talk to Scott the way Scott talks to himself – “I’ll make sure I’m waiting right at the door. And when you come in…”

Scott tries to squirm a little, straining his neck for another kiss, but Kip doesn’t let him.

“I want you to take your clothes off and get on your knees for me.”

The sound that makes its way out of Scott’s throat is positively pathetic with how much he wants that right now.

“I’ll let you suck me off and all you need to think about is being good at that.”

“Let me,” Scott repeats in a whisper. It comes out rough. Kip doesn’t usually talk like this, act like this; it has Scott feeling so needy for him. That sincere, entirely gentle way he exerts control is so intoxicating. “Please.”

Because that is all Scott wants, to show Kip he is good at giving him pleasure; this isn’t something he’s ever failed at or not given his absolute all and he knows he can do it well, so well if Kip wants him to, if he lets him, if – if he makes him. The thought makes him shiver.

Kip kisses his temple and releases his hold on Scott, letting him turn to lie on his front between Kip’s spread legs. Scott presses wet kisses to the inside of Kip’s thigh, rubs his face against his erection through the thin cotton of his boxer briefs. It’s easier to ask when he’s already here, already feeling like this. Still, he can’t look at Kip when he does.

“Can you –” he starts quietly, staring at the shape of Kip’s cock where his underwear stretches over it, and Kip runs his fingers through Scott’s hair. He’s so patient with him. “Will you make me?”

Kip’s reaction to it is somewhat unexpected, the sound that comes out of his throat strangled, full of want, and it makes Scott feel hot all over. His sweet Kip, who’s always lovely and perfect, wants this from him, too. Seems to enjoy that side of Scott and doesn’t find it burdensome. It’s almost too much to even comprehend.

Kip buries both hands in Scott’s hair, tugs him into place and down, Scott’s nose pressed up into the cotton-covered crease of Kip’s thigh where his scent is strongest and he can breathe him in as deeply as he wants to, Kip’s cock rubbing against his cheek where Kip is rocking his hips forward against his face.

Scott wants Kip’s underwear out of the way, wants to tear it off with his teeth if he needs to, because he can do better than this, he’s going to do so well if Kip will just let him prove it; now that he knows that Kip likes this –  

Thankfully Kip doesn’t make him wait too long, dropping his hands only long enough to take his cock out of his boxer briefs before they are back in Scott’s hair, pulling him back in.

“Tap me if you need a break,” Kip says breathlessly and drums his fingertips to Scott’s shoulder twice. Scott repeats the motion on Kip’s knee to confirm.

And then, yes - Kip doesn’t go easy on him, but he does go slow. Pushing Scott’s head down and forcing himself deep into his throat, bit by bit, thrust by little thrust, helping Scott give his very best.

Every thought in his head is long forgotten when Kip starts moving Scott’s head up and down to meet the movements of his hips; all he can focus on is breathing and trying to relax his throat, wrapping his lips tightly around the base of Kip’s cock to give him as much sensation as he can everywhere.

“Look at you, you take it so well for me.”

Kip is moaning beautifully, babbling a little bit the way he tends to, and it’s all praise for Scott.

“You’re so good at this, so good, I fucking love your mouth.”

He makes Scott pull back to give him a second to breathe properly, his eyes heavy-lidded as he stares at Scott’s mouth, slipping his thumb inside for Scott to suck on. Scott gives it the same effort he just gave Kip’s cock, his tongue hot and eager all over salty, callused skin.

Kip makes an amused little noise and slides his fingers back into Scott’s hair, locking eyes to check in, and Scott nods. He doesn’t need any more breaks, he just needs to make Kip come.

The sounds that fill the room are slick and obscene when Kip starts fucking his mouth again, and Scott loves how messy it feels, spit at the corners of his mouth and tears stinging in his eyes; real, concrete proof of just how much he wants to make Kip feel good.

He can soon feel Kip’s fingers tense in his hair, his thighs starting to shake in a very familiar way, and Scott can’t stop himself from moaning around him, his fingers pressing hard into Kip’s quads.

Kip’s hips stutter and then he’s cursing and panting, coming down Scott’s throat as he holds his head firmly in place. Scott is breathing through his nose as deeply as he can and he feels heady, so greedy for it, like Kip is giving him a reward for how well he has done.

He doesn’t move for another moment even as Kip lets go of him, his hands aimlessly running over Scott’s shoulders, the back of his head. Scott feels him soften on his tongue and finally pulls off, swallowing every last drop. He goes back to kissing on Kip’s inner thighs, the sensitive skin around the base of his cock, nuzzling into neatly trimmed hair.

Kip hums, a soft and content little sound, and nudges Scott’s shoulder. “Come up here, babe.”

Scott pulls Kip's boxer briefs back up for him and then complies, making a little detour for a kiss before he puts his head down on Kip’s chest and listens to his heartbeat as it slows back down into a steady, comforting thump. It’s quiet in the apartment, their breathing the only sound against the constant hum of background noise the city produces. Kip wraps his arms around him and kisses the top of his head.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, that was – yeah. So okay.”

Kip must be able to feel how hard Scott is, right against his hip with the way they’re lying, and he presses back against him a little bit. A question, an offer. Scott laughs, suddenly nervous.

“Actually.” He clears his throat, then starts again. He never says no to Kip. So this is new. “I don’t wanna come?” It sounds like a question, but he’s very sure of it.

“Okay,” Kip simply says, giving no clue as to whether or not he thinks that’s weird. Is it weird?

“I, uh –” Scott can’t find the words he needs. Kip puts one hand to the back of his neck, grounding.

So instead of explaining himself, Scott just breathes through the awkwardness that’s begun creeping in and asks the one question he really needs the answer to. “Would you like that?”

Kip laughs and presses another kiss into his hair.

“Let me think,” he starts playfully and tilts his head to the side as if he’s in deep thought. “Do I want you hard for me all night? And then fuck you first thing in the morning when, based on past experience, you wake up so horny you can’t even see straight? Mhmm…”

There’s no real heat in Kip’s words, not like he’s trying to be dirty – he’s sweet and light and maybe getting a little sleepy, but Scott can practically feel his eyes glazing over with how good it sounds to him. Yes, that’s exactly what he wants.

He wants to prove himself, to endure for Kip, to suffer just a little bit in a healthier way than he usually would on a night like this, to fall asleep looking forward to the morning instead of just feeling a vague sense of relief that he’s survived the night.

Maybe Kip will even make it a little more difficult for him, touch him and kiss him before they fall asleep, maybe some more during the night if they both wake up, maybe even in Scott’s sleep, oh, please – to keep him attentive and frustrated, but never quite giving him enough.

It sounds like the most delicious torture to Scott’s ears.

He wants and wants and yes, he needs.