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), Ilya Rozanov, Shane Hollander

Additional Tags:

Minor Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov, Rimming, Anal Sex, Anal Plug, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, (as a fantasy only), Scott Hunter Loves Kip Grady, Kip Grady loves Scott Hunter, Top Scott Hunter (Game Changers), Service Top, Bottom Kip Grady, Domestic Fluff, Canon - Game Changers Series & Heated Rivalry (TV) Combination, Post-Book 6: The Long Game (Game Changers)

Language:

English

Series:

Part 2 of love that is weighted in gold

Stats:

Published: 2026-01-25 Words: 2,837 Chapters: 1/1

making promises I can keep at night

Summary

“What are we talking about?”

“Scott Hunter’s dick,” Ilya immediately says and Shane sighs, looking deeply resigned.

“That’s not technically true,” Kip offers but Ilya shakes his head at him.

“Was about to find out how many inches.”

-
Picks up the fantasy described at the end of shimmers that innocent light back but can also be read as a standalone.

Notes

“What is with helicopter husband tonight?” Kip startles when Ilya Rozanov seemingly manifests out of thin air right next to him, foregoing any pleasantries in favor of…well, being Ilya Rozanov.

Kip has already forgotten what the good cause of the event that they’re at is, but it’s something that has all kinds of vaguely MLH-adjacent people dressing up nicely and most importantly, opening their wallets.

“What?” he asks like he has no idea what Ilya means.

“Hovering,” he clarifies and yeah, Kip knows how that metaphor works, thank you. “Protecting, like you’re pregnant wife.”

“I – what?” Kip tries, he tries really hard to look like he has no clue whatever they might be talking about, but the way his face heats and his eyes suddenly avoid Ilya’s probably says otherwise.

“Ah. Is sex thing?”

Kip clears his throat and takes a sip of his drink. For all of Scott’s apparent hovering, where is the man now, when Kip could actually use some backup? (On stage, waiting to give a speech, unfortunately.)

Because Ilya is right, of course, with all his observations. Scott hasn’t been able to keep his eyes or hands off Kip all night, glued to his side and standing up straight like he’s marking his territory anytime someone comes close.

It doesn’t seem unreasonable to feel a little possessive, Kip thinks, when only a couple of hours ago, Scott had him bent over the kitchen counter, whispering all kinds of filthy things into his ear until he came inside him and then plugged him up before going out.

Kip definitely had some interesting feelings come up when they did the same thing in reverse a few months ago in the privacy of their Ottawa hotel room. But Scott wanted to show him off and, well – every now and then, Kip really doesn’t mind being arm candy at boring hockey events.

And he also appreciates Scott playing bodyguard just a little bit, because what he does not need is being jostled in a crowd while the plug in his ass moves every time he so much as shifts his weight.

Plus, it’s kind of nice, actually, being doted on this way. He can feel the heat in every touch, see the love in Scott’s eyes. Not that Scott isn’t very attentive and very much into him all the time, but having it dialed up to eleven like this while they’re out in public gives him a little extra thrill.

He must look downright dreamy about it all, because Ilya’s eyes soften a little bit, even while the assessing gaze that might as well be some sort of sex-attuned x-ray vision stays sharp.

“Big plans after? Or big plans already happened?” Ilya ponders and Kip decides it might be fun to engage with the bait he’s continuously being thrown just a little bit. If he manages to make Ilya Rozanov blush, he’ll go down in the hockey hall of fame somewhere, or at least Scott will appreciate the story. Besides, even if Scott doesn’t want to hear it, Ilya definitely wouldn’t have kicked him out of bed, pre-Shane era. Which makes a little teasing kind of fun, now that everyone is long and happily off the market.

“Who says it can’t be both?”

“Oh?”

“I mean, anything is foreplay to you two, as far as I can tell. Surely you can appreciate pre-gaming and…post-gaming.”

Ilya grins at him, looking very entertained and not flustered in the least.

“You are more fun without old man around.”

Kip laughs and puts his drink down on the bar so he can politely clap at the correct moment when random MHL official #5 finishes introducing the speakers.

“You have no idea how wrong you are about that.”

“So, what, you get home. You tell him get on his knees…?”

Kip clears his throat and tries to will away the flush coloring his cheeks. Maybe he bit off more than he could chew, trying to out-innuendo Ilya. The guy is nothing if not direct.

And also, that’s actually what might happen. Kip is really in the mood to be spoiled tonight, and Scott is never one to deny him. Maybe a slow blowjob to start them off, get just a little messy…

On stage, Scott is waiting his turn, shaking hands with some of the other speakers, and keeps shooting Kip longing looks across the room.

“He wants you. Very bad,” Ilya says conversationally and Kip gives him a smile.

“Yeah, same.” Scott in a nice suit is hardly a novel sight at this point, but one he appreciates nonetheless. Where Kip sometimes feels a little stifled and like he’s experiencing an unwelcome flashback to his cater waiter days, Scott can make wearing his Armani look as natural as his jersey, like he belongs in it.

“I am never sure which one of you –“

His question is cut off by Shane’s arrival and Kip watches Ilya’s face turn perfectly pleasant within half a second.

“Hi, Kip, good to see you. What are we talking about?”

“Scott Hunter’s dick,” Ilya immediately says and Shane sighs, looking deeply resigned.

“That’s not technically true,” Kip offers but Ilya shakes his head at him.

“Was about to find out how many inches.”

“Ilya,” Shane admonishes and Ilya looks very pleased with himself.

“How’s your dog, Ilya?” Kip asks, because whatever little game he was going to get into with Ilya, poor Shane does not deserve to have to endure. As planned, Ilya is immediately distracted and Kip gets to see cute photos of Anya. Everyone wins.

---

After the speeches are finished, Kip whisks Scott away as soon as he reasonably can. They slip out the service entrance to the side and right into the back of the car that’s waiting for them.

Scott looks like he wants to climb right into Kip’s lap for the entire car ride home, but only just restrains himself (which their driver probably appreciates).

Instead, he puts one hand on Kip‘s knee in what would be an innocent gesture, but they’re so attuned to each other by now that Kip can tell how turned on he is by the way he breathes; that he knows the way Scott scratches his fingers over the fabric of Kip‘s dress pants means that he’s barely keeping it together.

“How are you feeling?” Scott asks and Kip hears: How does that plug in your ass feel? Were you thinking about me fucking you earlier the entire time we were there? Are you going to let me take you apart when we get home?

“Good, it was a nice event.” Kip has no idea how the event was. „Ready to go home though. You?”

“Oh yeah, I’m ready for bed,” Scott says with an almost entirely straight face and Kip turns his head to look out the window, hiding a smile. Subtle, his man is not.

The elevator up to the apartment is a blur of hot touch and hungry kisses, Scott crowding Kip against the mirror at the back like he can’t wait the thirty seconds it will take them to get to their place. Kip loves when Scott kisses him like this, so hot and alive, like he wants to swallow him whole.

“Drove me crazy all night.” A warm hand on the small of his back, sliding down to cup his ass as they enter the apartment.

“I didn’t even do anything,” Kip laughs and happily lets Scott manhandle him straight to the bedroom.

“You don’t need to,” Scott says, lips dragging over Kip’s neck and jaw, blindly unbuttoning his shirt while Kip tries to do the same for Scott. It’s a wild tangle of hands for a moment but eventually they manage, falling onto the bed stripped down to their underwear.

“What did you think about?” Kip asks, “When you were up on stage?”

He’s pretty sure he can imagine, but he enjoys coaxing Scott into talking. Loves his voice dropping rough and deep when he’s turned on, telling Kip about all the things he wants to do to him.

Scott kisses him again, pressing him into the mattress and grinding his hips down against him.

“Your ass,” Scott says and Kip can’t help the little giggle that bubbles out of him. Scott does need a moment to get warmed up sometimes; it’s honestly all kinds of adorable.

“Anything…specific?” he prompts.

“Fuck. Turn over.”

Scott pushes up to his knees on the bed to give Kip enough space to roll onto his stomach and Kip stretches out underneath him, pillowing his cheek on folded arms.

“I wanna eat you out so bad,” Scott whispers, his breath hot against the back of Kip’s neck. He reaches down to pull Kip’s boxer briefs down over his ass. “All I could think about all night.”

It sends a shiver down Kip’s spine and he arches his back, pushing his ass up against Scott. They both groan when the movement presses the hard line of Scott’s cock against the base of the plug still inside Kip.

“Fuck,” Scott says again, quickly helping Kip take his underwear all the way off. “Couldn’t stop thinking about this either.” He presses his fingers against the plug and Kip feels it move inside him. “How does it feel?”

“I – tried not to think about it too much,” Kip replies and then can’t suppress a whimper when Scott pulls on the plug’s handle, then pushes it forward again. “I just – I wanted you to touch it just like this.”

“God, baby,” Scott groans and presses wet, open-mouthed kisses to the back of Kip’s shoulder, his fingers still playing with the plug. “I wanted to. Wanted to touch you so bad.” He pulls it out of Kip all the way this time, slow and careful as the widest part stretches Kip out and he lets out a high, throaty sound.

“Wanted to get on my knees for you right there. Put my mouth on you.”

So, what, you get home. You tell him get on his knees? Ilya’s voice echoes in Kip’s head and it nearly makes him laugh because he knows how much Scott would hate that. Nobody’s fault if the guy can read a vibe though.

“Put my tongue inside you.”

“Please,” Kip breathes, pressing back into Scott’s touch where he’s cupping the globes of his ass, squeezing flesh and muscle, bordering on painful in the very best way. He’s laying a hot trail of kisses down Kip’s spine and it feels like worship.

“Can’t fucking get enough of you,” Scott says and then spreads Kip’s cheeks apart with both hands to bury his face between them.

For a long time, Kip thought he wasn’t really into being eaten out. To this day, he still remembers the first time some guy tried it on him at the tender age of 21 and how spectacularly underwhelming it felt. Like someone was making a very lackluster effort at, well, licking his ass.

Of course, it turned out to be nothing like that with Scott. It’s still the mental aspect more than the physical sensation that does it for him, really, but he absolutely loves it now. The thrill of feeling exposed, the raw intimacy of it, the way Scott is as passionate and enthusiastic about it as he is about everything they do.

Kip can’t stop the little moans that keep spilling out of him, and he desperately needs more friction, more something. But when he makes even the smallest attempt at rutting against the mattress, Scott stills his hips and chides him with a little tap of his fingers on his ass.

“I’ll take care of you,” he says roughly, “don’t you worry.”

“I’m not worried, I’m just horny,” Kip sighs, but keeps still as directed. Scott laughs and gives the swell of Kip’s ass a teasing little bite that makes him yelp. Then there’s the familiar sound of the lube bottle being snapped open and squeezed, and Kip groans in anticipation.

“Yeah?” Scott asks, a tinge of amusement in his voice as Kip quickly scrambles up onto his knees and hugs a pillow to his chest, getting into position maybe a little too eagerly.

“Fuck yeah, come on.”

The world narrows down to nothing but Scott when he pushes into Kip, slow and easy. He pauses once he’s fully inside and folds his body over Kip’s, strokes his hands up and down his sides, places warm kisses between his shoulder blades. Connecting.

“Always feel so fucking good,” Scott mutters against the skin of Kip’s back as he starts moving. “Thought about this too. You, just – out there. Open and ready for me. Full of –”

He breaks off on a groan when Kip starts pushing back to meet his thrusts. Fantasy and reality are swimming together in his head, the entire night’s tension peaking, unfurling, surrounding them like a physical thing. And Kip wants all of it at once, needs it all, needs for Scott to make him completely fall apart.

“I kinda wanted – wanted you to take me to the bathroom. Just fuck me right there. And then put the plug back in –”

The sound that tears out of Scott’s chest is more sob than anything else and his hands grip Kip’s hips hard for better leverage, the sounds of harsh breaths and wet skin slamming together filling the room. Kip can feel it everywhere in his body, pressure building and his muscles locking tight.

“Anyone could walk in. I want them to – want them to see – fuck.”

Scott pulls out of him and Kip is about to find some very strong words to protest that, but has already been flipped onto his back before he can think of any.

Scott is kneeling over him, his legs either side of Kip’s, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath he draws. He looks wild like this, his hair a mess, cheeks flushed with exertion, and Kip can’t imagine anything more beautiful. He knows the soft light coming through the window is anything but natural, just New York being New York no matter the hour of the day or night. But in Kip’s romantic mind, it’s nothing but the full moon illuminating Scott’s form right now, all soft and smooth skin over hard muscle, and all his.

Scott stares at him with his eyes dark and his mouth half-open as he wraps one hand around Kip and the other one around himself, jerking them in the same punishing rhythm that immediately has Kip clawing at the sheets beneath him. He kicks his feet as much as he can, locked in place between Scott’s knees as he is; feeling his toes curl and flex, and he wants to spread his legs but he can’t, he can’t, he wants to –

“Fuck.” Kip’s eyes might actually roll back in his head when he comes, Scott stroking him through it, groaning right along with him as wave after warm wave hits his stomach.

“Come on,” Kip rasps as soon as he finds his words, still feeling punch-drunk from his orgasm, “come all over me.”

Scott stutters out one more uneven breath, throws his head back, and covers Kip’s chest in his come.

---

One very perfunctory clean-up attempt with some of the tissues they keep by their bedside later, Scott flops down across the bed next to him and puts his head on Kip’s belly, looking up at him with a soft expression in his eyes. He makes a very content little sound when Kip starts running his fingers through his hair.

“Love you,” Kip says and, embarrassingly, his voice almost catches on the words because they don’t even come close to what he’s feeling right now. That oxytocin high just doesn’t get old.

“Love you more.”

“The most,” Kip croons back at him, because being cheesy together is not-so-secretly one of the great pleasures of his marriage and he doesn’t care what anyone has to say about that.

Scott tilts his head to press a little kiss to Kip’s skin and then nuzzles his nose against the soft hair on his stomach, breathing him in. “You smell good.”

Kip laughs, the vibrations in his stomach jostling Scott’s head a little. “Maybe you do love me more, because I know for a fact that’s not true right now.”

“Eh. Depends who you ask.” Kip keeps stroking his fingers through his hair, over his cheeks and down the curve of his shoulder, and Scott closes his eyes. “Did you have a good night?”

“Best boring MLH event I ever went to,” Kip says and taps a finger against Scott’s nose.

---

“Why is Rozanov sending me chirps at one AM?” Scott asks the next morning, scrolling through his phone with one hand while the other is buried in Kip’s hair, softly rubbing his scalp where he’s still half-dozing with his head on Scott’s chest.

“He texted me hope you didn’t break your hip and a bunch of peach emojis. That guy is so weird.”