Rarepair Challenge // Accepting

for the rarepair challenge: pat maroon/jeremy swayman + biting?

rarepair challenge // accepting

bite down (till you hit something)

672 words, M for suggestive themes.

Pat thinks he’s going insane. 

No… no, he knows he’s going insane. 

Like most hockey players, he’s got a bit of an oral fixation. His is relatively manageable, the mouthguard is enough to satisfy him, but he does sometimes just like to bite things. It’s probably related to his guard dog status, but whatever. He’s not hurting anyone. 

But when he joined the Bruins, and watched Jeremy stick his tongue out to drag his jersey up into his mouth, to bite it and lift it- god. God damn. The first time he saw it up close, he had to stop himself from saying ‘fuck’ out loud. It was hot, Jeremy’s tongue was flexible. 

But the later in the season they go, the more Jeremy’s routine gets to Pat. There have been teammates with routines that made Pat do a double take before sure- stretching and working a muscle set that looked… suggestive at best. He’s glanced, then kept his thoughts to himself. 

But holy fuck. 

The tongue… and the bite. The bite. 

It’s a random one that breaks the camel’s back. Pat keeps his thoughts to himself for the game, for the post-game media, the team getting undressed and redressed. But when most people have cleared out, Pat- he needs. 

“Sway,” He calls out. Jeremy’s head swivels, and when he sees who’s calling him, he smiles up at Pat. “Hey, bud, what’s up?”

“Why- why do you do that during warmups?”

“What, the twitches? It’s a goalie warmup-”

“No, not that- the, the tongue, and the jersey bite.”

Jeremy blinks, blinks again. “Oh. Uh, I don’t know, I just-”

“You know what you look like, doing that, yeah?” 

Jeremy blushes a little, light pink dusting his cheekbones, but he smirks. “I don’t do it because of that, but yeah, I know.”

Pat steps closer, and Jeremy looks up again, eyes wide. 

“You look like- fuck, Sway, you really do look like a dog when you bite your jersey like that.” Pat croaks, stepping closer again. Jeremy’s brow furrows and he glances around at Pat’s face. After a moment, the confusion clears. 

“They call me bulldog for a reason.” 

Pat huffs, and his eyes drop from Jeremy’s face to his neck. His teeth ache. He licks his lips, and Jeremy watches, suddenly transfixed. They’re close now, chest to chest with Jeremy’s back resting on the wall. Pat makes a low sound in his chest, something like a rumble, and Jeremy answers with a whimper. Pat leans down, and Jeremy leans up, expecting a kiss, but is disappointed when Pat just nuzzles his cheek. He rubs his hairy cheek against Jeremy’s, and brings a hand up to cup the back of Jeremy’s head and neck. 

He leans further down still, and pauses right before sinking his teeth into the soft, pale skin of the front of Jeremy’s neck.

Jeremy gasps wetly, legs going weak, and his head goes limp against Pat’s hand. Pat rumbles again, digging his teeth in a little more, and Jeremy keens. Pat can feel the sound under his mouth, in his teeth, and he presses Jeremy back into the wall. 

Pat wants- god, he wants. He wants to dig in, rip and tear and relish in the squeals and moans he knows will come from the throat he’s ravaging. He wants to let go and rub his face all over Jeremy’s neck- leave him covered in beard burn that he’ll feel for days afterwards. He wants to lick over all the beautiful pale skin he can see. 

He wants it all. But for now, he’ll settle for biting a massive bruise into the skin, stake his claim on the pretty goalie. He works his teeth in a little more, feels Jeremy whimper again, and finally lets go. He leans up and has to hold Jeremy up before he falls. The poor goalie is dazed, eyes distant and dark and hazy, chest heaving with each breath. 

“Bulldog, eh?” Pat asks. He watches Jeremy’s throat bob around a swallow. His teeth ache.