Chris & Mishka - Part II

Chris patiently reached for him again and got shoved. “Okay!,” he said, raising his hands in protest. “KILL yourself! You’re a reckless fucking DRUNK, Tyler! I give up!...” He spun on his heels and headed towards the elevators again.

“Like you gave up on US, you FUCK?...’Cuz I don’t have a fucking PUSSY! And I can’t give Mom and Dad Von Blue some fucking grand kids!,” Tripp yelled after him.

Chris turned around and lunged at him, grabbing his muscular arm and twisting it behind his back. Tripp caught him by the throat with his free hand, and as Chris wrestled to remove it, he noticed tears in his eyes. He stopped coming at him, so when Tripp loosened the hold on his throat, he grabbed and pinned that arm too.

Tripp moaned in anger and grimaced, too drunk to get out of his friend’s hold. “I hate you!,” he yelled, unable to stop the tears from their descent down his cheeks. “Get the fuck off me, you bitch!” He struggled some more, but Chris held his arms tightly.

“Come on!,” Chris commanded, shoving his imprisoned ex-lover ahead of him. “Where’s your room?” Tyler stopped being difficult and began to walk. He reeked of Jack Daniels, puke and sex. Chris reached into his pocket and pulled out a green key to room # 256.

When they got into the elevator, Tyler broke free and fell back against the far wall. His chest was heaving as he glared at Chris. He looked like a runaway delinquent from the streets; a far cry from the magna cum laude Harvard grad, and star Crimson ice hockey defenseman he actually was! There were hickeys all over his neck and smooth chest. Chris examined them, picturing the two girls he mentioned earlier, with their slut mouths all over him...Then,...Drew crying out in virgin pain as Tripp did him doggie-style on the beach...

“Are you jealous?,” Tripp asked, taking notice and raising an eyebrow at him. Chris expressed his amusement with a boyish giggle. “Not really!...Been there,...” his eyes raked over Tyler’s delicious six pack, then over the light patch of hair beneath his belly button. “...done that,...” His shorts were hanging low enough to show some pubes, the little whore! Chris felt his cock begin to rise to attention, in the confines of the clean boxers he’d borrowed from Mishka. “...got a t-shirt...,” his voice toned down to a whisper, as Tyler began to rub his cock over his shorts. “Tyler, stop it!,” he ordered.

Tyler ran that naughty pierced tongue of his over his teeth and continued. “Mmmmmmm...You want this, don’t cha?...Yeahhhh...You know that no one can make you cum like I can...Don’t cha, Chrissy?...”

Thank God the elevator dinged and stopped for Tyler’s floor. “Come on, Janik! March!,” Chris ordered, taking charge of him once again. “What are you gonna DO to me?,” Tripp purred, starting to nod off on his feet. “You LOVE me...” He cracked up and threw himself against Chris, hugging him around the waist from behind.

“Yeah, I love you! Especially when you’re like this! Its sooooo much fucking fun! Let me tell ya!,” he cracked. He got the door opened and escorted Tripp inside. He barely unpacked. The bed was even still made.

Tripp stumbled onto the bed and sprawled out enticingly, opening his legs and stretching out his arms. “Mmmmm...Come here to daddy!...,” he slurred. Chris ignored him and went into the bathroom to see if he brought Tylenol with him. Sure enough he did! That’s one trick Chris taught him. If he came in wasted, take three Tylenol and drink two glasses of water. Then, TA-DAH, no hangover! He took a second to think about how cute it was that Tyler did that even after the break-up...And to realize how much he truly, deeply loved him...

His cologne bottle was on the side of the sink...’Mania’ by Armani. Chris hesitated at first, then picked it up and put it under his nose. God, how he missed this scent! The perfect one to be Tyler’s signature, sexy, spicy and sweet - just like him!...Memories of so much happiness began to flood him, like the time they went camping alone in New Hampshire for a weekend, and...

He denied those moments access to his heart! He thought that by placing the bottle back where he got it from and turning his back to it, he’d be able to lock them out. It was too late for that though...Tyler weaseled his way in to claim both of Chris’ ‘sensitive love muscles’ for his own four years ago... 

Feeling lonely and terribly confused again, Chris dragged his feet out into the room with a handful of Tylenol and a plastic hotel cup of tap water. Tripp was staring blankly at the ceiling. “Hey!,” Chris said, hating to admit to himself he was making sure that he hadn’t choked to death on his own puke and died. Tripp lifted his head and smiled at him. “Are you takin’ care of me, Blues Clues?,” he asked, sounding adorable. Chris hated when he called him that, but missed it after going three weeks without hearing it.

“Come here, Tyler! You stink! Come take these, then get in the shower...,” Chris said, playing dad for the billionth time in their history. “I smell like Drew’s ass - and pussy!,” Tyler exclaimed, in that cheerful way that people say inappropriate things when they’re drunk. Chris reached a hand out to him. “You reek of PUKE, Tyler!,” he said, wrinkling his nose. “Smell my cock!,” Tripp insisted, ready to take his shorts off.

Chris felt the jealousy sting him in every single pore. “No! I don’t care where you stuck your dick tonight! Now swallow these down and come into the bathroom!,” he said in a raised voice. He was not very good at acting tonight, dammitt! Tripp lost his footing when he got up, and knocked Chris backwards. Used to helping injured teammates off the ice, and being a solid 220 pounds himself at 6’3, carrying this big lug into the bathroom wasn’t a strain.

He sat Tripp down on the closed toilet so that he could regulate the shower and get him in there. Tripp started playing with his ass when he bent over. “Stop!,” Chris hissed, feeling his cock begin to twitch against the silk of Mishka’s boxers. His request was ignored. Tripp grabbed him by the hips and began to nibble his tight cheek through the back of his shorts. “Tyler!,” he moaned, grabbing a handful of his honey colored hair and pulling his face back. Tripp smirked up at him with that model gorgeous face of his. “You need a nice good tongue fuck, baby! Take your shorts off and gimme that ass!,” he begged. Chris usually did that in a heartbeat! Tyler’s talented tongue, French kissing his cum hole with that piercing, usually made him bust a nut in less than ten minutes. Then, he’d pound his slippery chute with that gorgeous cock of his until he came again…

Chris needed to get those thoughts out of his head - and fast! “No! Get up and get in here!…Come on, Tripp! You’re wasted!…And we broke up…I don’t know if I can…,” Chris trailed off, unable to complete the sentence that would have ended, ‘…have sex with you now and not hurt you again in a month…’

Tripp looked crushed. “Fine! Fuck you!…You and your fucking BITCH girlfriend!” He got up and pushed Chris’ hands away from himself, when Chris tried to steady him. He climbed into the hot shower and collapsed his toned, long-limbed body against the tile, letting the water rush over him.

Watching Tripp welcome the soothing feeling of the spray, arching back his neck and rubbing his chest muscles, was too fucking hot! Instead of leaving, Chris took a seat on the toilet, moving the curtain far enough back to enjoy the show. Tripp’s azure eyes snapped opened and looked at him. His lashes darkened and clumped from the water, making him look like a doll... 

“Ummm,...I think I should stay here and uhhh,...make sure you don’t pass out and hit your head or something...,” Chris said under his breath. What a fucking lie! Tripp began to soap up his hands, still watching Chris, then massaged the lather onto his smooth pecks. He was deliberately lingering on his nipples, which had already sprung to attention. Chris couldn’t help licking his lips, as a rivulet of soapy water started dripping from the piercing on his right one...That nipple, his tongue, his ears, and even his belly was pierced...He was such a naughty little boy...

Tripp’s rosy lips twisted into a devilish smirk, as he moved his soapy hands to his cock and began to play with it. He was more making love to it than washing it, knowing it was exciting his emerald-eyed ex-lover.

“I’m a little drunk here, Blue...Think you can help me out?,” he whispered, moving to the edge of the tub. He shook his hips from side to side, so that his soapy, eight inch meat baton waved enticingly in front of Chris’ mouth.

Wordlessly, Chris slithered closer to him, and grabbed his gorgeous pecker. “Oh, yeahhhh!,” Tripp moaned, as Chris began to pump his hand up and down his slippery rod. Way too hot to control it - and not wanting to - he grabbed Chris’ hair and pushed his face into his sudsy crotch. He longed for the heaven of those pouty lips...No one else’s mouth could to his cock what Chris’ could...

“Suck that cock, baby!...Suck it!...,” Tripp ordered, smacking it against his parted lips. Chris just stared up at him, making no move to do what he wanted. “Come ONNNN!,” Tripp cried, tugging on a handful of Chris’ chocolate curls and humping his cheek. Chris grinned up at him like a wicked little scamp, and pulled free from him. “You’re a little whore, Janik!...You know that?...”

Tripp giggled and began to soap up his hands again. “Yeahhhh!...And you fucking love it!...” He watched Chris’ eyes move to his tight, bubble butt, as he began to thoroughly soap up that area. “Yeahhhh, you LIKE that?,” he teased, giving his ass a playful slap for him. 

“Slap that ass for me, Tyler!...Mmmmm!...,” Chris purred, needing to grab the throbbing bulge in his shorts, that was begging for some attention. Tripp slapped his ass again, then kneaded its velvety globes, showing his horny buddy his sweet little asshole. Chris ran his tongue over his teeth, provoking Tripp to bite down on his lip and stick his ass out.

“Yeahhhh, show me that ass, baby!...Soap it all up for me...Let me watch you get it nice and clean...,” Chris said, releasing his pent up beast from the confines of his cargo shorts and beginning to whack it. He was too far gone now! He was going to try to just beat off, watching that fine piece of Ivy League ass he made cum almost nightly, sex it up for him. Man, was it gonna be hard not to touch him! But he had to control it, or they’d be doing something they shouldn’t!