Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandoms:

Heated Rivalry (TV), Game Changers | Heated Rivalry - All Media Types

Relationship:

Kip Grady/Scott Hunter

Characters:

Kip Grady, Scott Hunter (Game Changers)

Additional Tags:

Canon Compliant, post book one, Established Relationship, Kip Grady loves Scott Hunter, Scott Hunter Loves Kip Grady, Fluff and Smut, Rough Sex, Anal Sex, Aftercare, Safe Sane and Consensual, Top/Bottom Versatile | Switch Kip Grady, Top/Bottom Versatile | Switch Scott Hunter (Game Changers), Take me Home, New York Admirals (Game Changers), Good Friend Eric Bennett, night club, Happily Ever After

Language:

English

Series:

Part 11 of Incremental Gains

Stats:

Published: 2026-08-19 Words: 3,430 Chapters: 1/1

Take Me Home

Summary

The plan was to spend the evening out with friends. Enjoying the club scene Scott had never been brave enough to risk before coming out. But Kip was distracting, and tempting, and there were better ways to spend a night than disappearing into a crowd.

He’d always wondered what this would feel like.  Disappearing into a crowd.  Sure, the team went out to clubs after games.  Sometimes to celebrate, other times to forget a brutal loss.  Sometimes he thought their Defense just liked to be deaf for a few hours.  But where Mosher could find a dance partner anywhere he went and Polaski was happy to dance by himself to a beat no one else in the room could find, Scott had spent most of his time watching.  Nursing a beer at a tall table or leaning on an upstairs railing, head bobbing to the irresistible bass, but careful never to seem so into it that too many people felt the need to invite him to dance.

Warm hand gripping his own, Kip threaded their way through to what felt like the middle of the dance floor.  People and shadows every way Scott turned.  More bodies touching his than had happened outside of a hockey fight in years.

Coming to a stop, Kip turned around, his smile luminescent in the blue and red and purple lights.  Scott was sure his eyes actually sparkled, but that could just be the alcohol in his system.  Or the lust pounding in his ears.  Or the love.

God, he loved this man.

Stepping in as close as skin and clothes would allow, Kip wound his arms around Scott’s neck.  Grinning up into a kiss as they started to sway.  Helping Scott find the beat he’d spent so many years resisting.  From somewhere, a wolf whistle that sounded suspiciously like Benny’s cut through the air.

It wasn’t their first night out together.  He was pretty sure it wasn’t even their first night out at this club.  They’d won the Cup, the world knew hockey players could be gay, and Scott had spent more time willingly going to places like this with friends than he’d ever expected to in his life.  Before Kip, he’d really thought he was getting too old for this kind of an evening.

It turned out he was just doing it wrong.

The music changed, the beat shifting more than speeding up, and the hands that had been resting on Kip’s hips slid a little lower.  One sliding into the back pocket of Kip’s jeans before squeezing.

Breaking the kiss, Kip looked up at him with dark eyes.  “Oh, fuck yes.”

Scott smiled, feeling the blood in his veins start to pump.  “Yeah?”

Turning around, Scott’s hand sliding free, Kip pressed himself backwards.  His back flat against Scott’s chest in a way that made all of Scott’s nerve endings sing.

One hand up to catch in Scott’s hair, his mouth almost but not quite touching Scott’s jaw, Kip said,  “Keep up, OK?  You can do this.”

Because Scott was not the dancer of the two of them.  But when Kip wanted something, he went for it, and when he wanted Scott to dance, he found a way.  And when he plastered his body to Scott’s, hips grinding, back arching, hands touching whatever he liked, there wasn’t anything for Scott to do but keep up.

He wasn’t sure when his eyes closed.  He wasn’t sure how long they danced.  He was sure that it was Kip in his arms, Scott’s nose buried in his now sweaty neck.  Desire thundering in Scott’s ears the way a bass drum never could.

The hand in his hair tugged, sharp enough to get his attention but not enough to break the mood.  Shatter the spell Kip had placed over both of them.  Kip’s voice breathy in his ear.  “When we get home, you’re gonna fuck me, OK?”

Scott groaned against warm skin and he felt more than he heard Kip’s satisfied chuckle.

Even as Kip twisted to press a kiss to his cheek and continued.  “Like you mean it, Hunter.”  That intentional little hitch to his voice that Kip knew could undo him.  “Like you know I can take it.”

Scott’s hands had been sliding over Kip’s body.  Drunk on the feeling of this man he got to call his.  That everyone now knew was his.  Sliding down over Kip’s abs, Scott gripped Kip’s belt buckle with his right hand.  Forcing himself to stop short of what was suddenly an irresistible goal.

He trailed distracted, open-mouthed kisses up Kip’s neck.  Pressing a final, firmer one just under Kip’s ear.  “Or we could go home right now.”

“You’re not having fun?” Kip asked, and Scott’s pride purred at how wrecked his boyfriend already sounded.  The teasing, tempting, wonderful love of his life.  “It’s not even that late.”

“Pretty sure it’s very late,” Scott growled, and Kip shivered against him.  Rubbing his ass very much on purpose against places that were making it hard to think.

“If that’s what you want,” Kip said, eyelids fluttering as his head tilted back.  Giving Scott all the access he could possibly need to get them both in a lot of trouble.  “I could…we can always…”

“I thought you wanted me to fuck you,” Scott said, and Kip swore.

“Fuck.  Yes.”

Feeling daring in a way only being lost in a crowd ever inspired, Scott bit the soft part of Kip’s ear.  “Take me home, Grady.  Let’s get out of here.”

---

They’d behaved themselves in the car because Geoffrey didn’t deserve that kind of show, but at some point Scott’s neighbors were going to complain.

Pressed flat against the front door, Scott’s mouth hot against his, Kip held Scott’s head right where he wanted it.  Kissing Scott with all the ferocity he hadn’t been able to for the whole ride home, shamelessly making it incredibly difficult for Scott to input the code required to actually open the front door.

Finally, Scott broke the kiss, pulling back enough to growl softly and pin Kip to the door with his forearm.  “Wait.”

Which had been a much more reasonable request before that little demonstration of strength.

Eyes wide, lips parted, his own curls certainly a mess, Kip forced himself to focus on breathing for the few seconds it took Scott to type in the code.  The door handle tugged half-heartedly at Kip’s belt loop as it descended, and then Scott was pushing them both inside the apartment.

At which point Kip grabbed him again and got back to the business of messy, desperate kisses.

God, how did he land a man this hot?  Hot and kind and sweet and funny and fuck, Kip had done something right in another life.

Hands fisted in the front of Scott’s shirt, Kip tried to walk backwards.  Giving little tugs to try and get Scott to move.  But apparently his stunt at the front door had been too much.

With a yelp, Kip was hoisted off the ground, Scott’s gloriously large hands braced under his ass as Kip’s legs wrapped around his waist.  Scott’s mouth never leaving his.

Fuck, how’d he get so lucky?

Much happier to do things this way, Scott carried Kip to the bedroom.  Grinning into Kip’s kisses as Kip did his best to wiggle.  Not enough to risk being dropped, but his denim-clad dick was trapped in what was almost the best way, and if he could just get the right kind of pressure -

Scott dropped him onto the bed, beaming.

Sprawled out in a way that he hoped looked as shameless as he felt, Kip panted as he looked up at his boyfriend.  Tall and strong and very, very turned on.  “Hi.”

Very turned on, because instead of any kind of banter, Scott leaned over, half-crawling over Kip to press a demanding kiss to the side of his jaw.  “I believe you had a request.”

The smartass comeback tried to form.  It really did.  It made it as far as the back of Kip’s mouth.  And then the memory of Scott’s body pressed against his, Scott’s hands moving over him in a way that could have been possessive but wasn’t, of his denim-clad dick rocking unconsciously against Kip’s ass on a crowded club dance floor.

Not that long ago, it had been a daydream.  A wish, held at bay by the stupid rules of reality.  Something that a terrible part of him had whispered would never actually happen, right up until the day the Admirals won the Cup and Scott had literally pulled Kip out onto the ice.  And kissed him, there in front of everyone, like he was the most important and precious thing in Scott’s whole life.

It had happened.  This was real.  And now his boyfriend was sliding a leg between Kip’s thighs, pressing so gently, and Kip couldn’t help it.  His eyes rolling back in his head, he groaned as Scott chuckled, hips rocking just enough to make Scott’s thigh almost enough.

Another kiss.  Softer this time.  “You wanted me to fuck you.”

“Still do,” Kip gasped.  “Fuck, I still do.”

A quiet hum.  “Still want it hard?”

It almost felt like a convulsion, the way Kip’s body jerked at that gentle offer.  The way Scott could say something like that, with all the ferocity of petting a tiny kitten, and it did things to Kip’s insides that snarling the same words against his throat never could.

Not that he would stop Scott from snarling those words against his throat.

Scott’s hands were at his waist, the memory of Scott’s hand gripping his buckle tugging as much as the very real hand currently undoing his belt.  Scott’s leg still between Kip’s thighs and his mouth trailing lazy kisses over any part of him it could reach.

Fuck.

Forcing his thoughts back together enough to make his own hands move in useful ways, Kip made short work of Scott’s shirt.  Tugging it up and over chiseled abs and broad shoulders, his fingers momentarily distracted by the familiar coloring of a bruise.  Not earned in front of a roaring crowd - the regular season was still a few weeks away - but from a scrimmage game.  Maybe a fellow Admiral who missed on a full-throated pass at practice.

Scott caught his hand, kissing the tips of the fingers that had lingered.  “I’m fine.  I promise.”

He was, and Kip knew that.  And tomorrow he would be stubborn about ice packs and warming gel and taking it easy sometimes.  But for tonight, the very last thing Kip wanted was for Scott to take anything easy.

Least of all Kip.

Shirts, pants, shoes, socks - Kip thought he might lose it just from Scott peeling his briefs off.  The normal drag of soft fabric over skin so sensitive he thought he might cry.

Fingers tucked under the waistband in question, Scott leaned down and bit Kip’s hip.  Kip jumped, gasping in surprise, and suddenly all of his clothes were gone.

Scott grinned, tossing the black fabric in the vague direction of the laundry basket.  “Like taking out a splinter.”

“Weirdo,” Kip panted, already reaching for Scott again.  “Come here.”

Scott shook his head.  “Nope.”  He popped the “p” as he patted Kip’s leg.  “Turn over.”

It was a truly indecent sound as Kip did what he was told.

Braced on his hands and knees - he really would lose it if anything touched his dick right now - Kip watched as Scott moved around the bed to grab the lube from the bedside table.  Pale skin over flexing muscles.  A happy little grin as Scott caught him staring.  A little sway to his hips as he walked back.

Kip dropped his head as Scott’s hand found his lower back.  “Fuck….”

He groaned softly as Scott kissed the base of his spine.  The sound morphing into a longer, low kind of whine as Scott kept dropping kisses across his skin.  Short, sharp pants as fingers started to explore his ass, mapping familiar territory before one slipped inside him.  Slick and fast and wonderful.

“Oh,” Kip groaned.  Eyes closed, breathing already a mess, and as Scott worked him open for a second finger, Kip collapsed to his elbows.  His willing ass on full display for this man who was so very generously offering to fuck it.  “Oh, Scott…”

It was the kind of thing he could only notice in hindsight.  That Scott’s laugh when they were being intimate had changed over the years.  It had always been there - from their first night together, Scott had been a happy partner.  Always eager, always engaged.  Smiling at the slightest provocation, usually before pressing that smile to Kip’s in a kiss that came with wandering hands and happy little noises.

Fuck, he loved this man so much.

Tonight, on a night like this, after three years of hiding, Scott’s laugh was just as happy.  But that joy was laced through with just enough pride to make Kip’s heart ache.  A little bit of pseudo-selfish satisfaction that Kip was being useless as a partner and that was very much Scott’s fault.

By the time Scott got him up to three fingers, Kip was rocking against Scott’s hand.  Not enough that it counted as trying to fuck himself, but clearly demanding.  Clearly mindless.  Hopefully clearly helpless, because he appreciated the careful care of his ass, he really did.  But fuck, he liked it when he could still feel Scott the next morning.  All the aches and small pains that could come from being pounded into their bed by a man who was used to pounding people into the boards.  Scattered bruises from Scott’s fingertips, tiny red marks from Scott’s mouth littering his shoulders.  And oh, the memories alone were gonna get Kip off one day.  No hands, no mouth, nothing but the remembered feeling of Scott loving him.

Scott’s fingers disappeared and Kip let out an involuntary whimper.  Half despair, half anticipation.  “Scott, please…”

One hand on his hip to hold him still, the other hand splayed across Kip’s back.  A steady, divine pressure that held him to the bed as Scott pushed in.  Pushing down, that fucking fantastic strength pinning Kip in place as Scott filled him, filled him, filled him all the way up.

Kip’s hand balled into a fist in the bedsheets, his face mashed against the mattress as his eyes momentarily rolled back in his head.

Fuck, he loved this man.

“Kip?”

“Give me a minute,” Kip breathed.  More because he needed to stabilize than because he needed to adjust.  Then: “Give it to me, Hunter.”

A small, involuntary thrust.  “Kip -”

“Come on, Hunter,” Kip repeated the name on purpose.  Leaning into it as if he was still in charge of what was happening.  “Fuck me -”

He’d meant to say more.  He knew how much Scott could enjoy it when Kip was a little bossy.  Loved it more than was probably healthy the way Scott’s expression would go slack and his eyes would glaze over and his beautiful, wonderful boyfriend would disappear into the physical sensations pounding through them both.

But the use of his last name did things to Scott, and twice so close together was a choice Kip would have to make again.

Not tonight, though.  Tonight, Kip’s mind was the one going offline, because Scott had started to move.  A few, gentle thrusts.  Giving Kip that minute.  Then the pace picked up and before Kip could catch his breath Scott was taking him apart.  Thrusting into him with speed and strength and power, and speaking of.  The hand on Kip’s back had him absolutely trapped against the mattress.  Scott’s body weight involved just enough that, between his hand and the unrelenting treatment of his ass, Kip couldn’t have moved if he’d wanted to.

And fuck, he’d never wanted anything less.

“Jesus, Kip,” Scott breathed.  Or tried to, sounding out of breath.  “Fuck, this is.  You are.  Fuck.”

Eyelids fluttering closed, Kip moaned and whined and swore.  Nonsense tumbling out of him.  Brain fully fucking offline.  “That’s it, sweetheart.  Come on.  I can take it.  You can take it.”

“Can I?” Scott asked no one in particular.  His pace never slowing.  “Fuck, Kip, I -”

“Come on, baby,” Kip said.  His hips rocking back into Scott’s thrusts as best he could.  Sometimes nailing the timing and making stars dance behind Kip’s eyes.  “Fuck me, fuck, please, fuck, Scott.  Scott.  Sweetheart, please.  Please.”  Face mashed into the bed he was trapped against, Kip wouldn’t have been surprised to find he’d started drooling.  “God, please, Scott.  Please.”

There was that laugh again.  That beautiful laugh, from this beautiful man.

“Please what?  Finish you like this?” Scott panted.  “Kip, d…”

He could feel Scott shuddering from his own impending release, the hand on Kip’s back bearing a little more weight as Scott’s balance shifted.  “Just like this, babe.  Just like this.”

He’d pay Scott back later.  Lay his perfect boyfriend out on this same bed on that strong back of his.  Scott’s eyes crinkled at the corners because he’d always, always prefer sex when he could look Kip in the face.  Stealing kisses, trading smiles, brown eyes watching brown eyes as they took each other apart.

Maybe it’d even be slow, later.  Scott loved it a little rough, fucking Kip as hard as either of them could handle it, but his boyfriend did like it slow.  Gentle.  So sweet Kip didn’t think his heart could take it some nights.

He’d pay Scott back later for this whole evening, and when he was done, Scott would hold him so close Kip thought the other man might really be able to tuck Kip inside his heart.

But right now, Kip wasn’t going to do a damn thing except the one thing he could do, which was wail into the sheets as his release tore through him.  The mattress muffling nothing as Scott fucked him through it.  Building and building and letting go in one, endless, relentless feeling.

Behind him, Scott kept it up for as long as he could, his pace finally starting to falter before the hand on Kip’s hip clamped down, hard enough to bruise, as Scott roared through his own climax.  Kip moaning quietly at the feeling of Scott spilling inside him.  Filling him up one more time.

It’d be marginally less hot once his brain wasn’t swimming in chemicals anymore, because what a mess, but it was always pretty fucking hot.  Any way Scott felt like coming - in him, on him, for him - fuck, Kip would take it.  Relish it.  Mumbling heartfelt praise for Scott’s letting him be a part of it.

Fuck.

Scott’s hands landed on either side of him, having left Kip’s body for the first time since he’d disappeared from Kip’s line of sight.  Honestly, skipping the less than a minute it took to get the lube, for the first time in hours.  And if he’d had even a spark of energy left, that fact would have summoned one last moan.

As it was, Kip wasn’t sure he could summon what it would take to open both eyes at once.

“I do…like doing that.”  Scott laughed, almost confused by the good feelings swarming through him.  The lightest of kisses pressed against the top of Kip’s spine.  “And I love you.”

Kip found a spark to open both eyes.  “I love you, too.”

“Did we…even tell the others we were leaving?”

Another spark, the corner of Kip’s mouth lifting in a smile.  “Pretty sure they noticed on their own.”

“Should probably text them that we got home safe.”

“Scott,” Kip said, still boneless.  Unable to move anything below his neck.  “You should get a warm towel, and then you should give into that urge that wants to cuddle.”

Another, softer kiss.  This one lingering.  “I love you so much.”

His eyes rolled back again as Scott slid free.  Memories and chemicals and other brain things ringing the last little bit of pleasure out of the utterly mundane.  And Kip loved it.

Not as much as he loved the feel of Scott’s big hands cleaning him up.  Not as much as he loved the way Scott - gently, lovingly - manhandled him up the bed so they could be more comfortable.  Not as much as he loved curling into Scott’s chest, his head on Scott’s shoulder, his thigh across Scott’s thigh and his arm across Scott’s middle.  Not as much as he loved how Scott had to fight to pull the bedsheet up over them because the energy that let him clean up after sex had finally run out.

But he loved it.  Everything about it.  Their life, their home, the way they fit together.  The way he got to love Scott every single day.  And the way, every single day, Scott loved him back.