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Michal stops outside Alex’s room and looks around. He knows most of the team has already gone to dinner at the restaurant in the hotel, though after the loss the last thing any of them want is to be cooped up but going out isn’t an option.
There’s the sound of someone in the room and Michal glances around one last time before knocking and hoping it’s Alex inside and not Sasha. He has no idea how he would explain away his presence outside their door when he should be with the others.
Luck is with him though because it’s Alex who opens the door, hair damp and dressed like he has no intentions of the leaving the room for the rest of the night. He stares at Michal for a moment in surprise before catching his elbow and drawing him into the room.
Michal doesn’t get a chance to get any enjoyment out of surprising his captain as Alex presses him back against the door. A hand curls around his hi and then Alex is kissing him, nipping at his lower lip. There’s an edge to the kiss, a hunger Michal knows has to do with the loss.
He arches against Alex, hands tight on his shoulders, fingers digging in. He’ll give Alex whatever he wants, all he has to do is ask.
As quickly as it starts Alex gentles until they’re exchanging short kisses, Alex’s hand flexing on his hip.
Alex draws back, resting his forehead against Michal’s collarbone, breath hot even through his shirt. Michal twines his fingers through Alex’s hair, cradling the back of his head. He cants his head, Alex’s hair soft against his cheek but he doesn’t say anything.
To drag the defending champions into overtime like that had been good, had served as a fuck you to all their detractors who had said the game would end with Boston smashing them. And the goal had been a fluke, an unlucky break and they’d all already talked to Holtby, for all the good it had done.
Michal rests a hand on Alex’s lower back, rubbing at the dip of his spine. “Eat?”
Alex pulls back, pressing against his hand, some of the wildness gone from his eyes. “No. Not feel like food.”
Michal nods. He understands the feeling, the knot in your stomach after losing a game, especially the important ones, that makes even thinking about food impossible. Despite the fact he hadn’t even played this game he feels the same way and has since he had to be helped off the ice against Florida.
The loss is bad but it’s only the first game. They still have a chance and Boston had better watch out because this loss has only served to motivate them.
Alex tilts his head towards the beds and Michal nods and follows. He doesn’t think anything is going to happen. Alex looks exhausted and Sasha could come back at any time which is a possible trauma he doesn’t want to deal with.
Sasha’s side of the room is nominally clean compared to Alex’s, the comforter pulled up. Alex flops back on his disaster of a bed, arms out flung, eyes closed.
Michal stops at the edge of the bed and looks, gaze following the line of Alex’ arm, up his throat to his face. He wants to crawl into the bed, press his lips to the underside of Alex’s jaw, wants to curl against the big body and pretend the game didn’t happen, even if it wasn’t that bad in the long run.
Alex’s eyes slit open and Michal is pinned in place by the vibrancy of colour and the intensity of his gaze. “Michal.”
He shudders at the way Alex says his name, dark and low like velvet, compelling. Michal kicks his shoes off, hands dropping to his belt and he glances at the door because yeah, Sasha.
“Don’t worry about Sasha. He know and not care.” Alex stretches and Michal can’t take his eyes off the flex of the other man’s body, gaze lingering on his hips and heat rises to his cheeks when he realizes Alex is watching him.
A grin twists Alex’s mouth and there’s an edge to it. “Promise when not on road. Sasha hate being locked out and not want to listen to him complain.”
Michal nods and undoes his belt, shoving his pants down and working his socks off. He climbs on the bed with every intention of settling close when Alex cups the back of his neck, tugging him down for a kiss.
Braced with a hand in the rumpled sheets on the other side of Alex’s body Michal licks into his mouth, warmth flaring in the pit of his stomach.
Alex rests his free hand on the small of his back, pushing and Michal bows to the pressure until he’s half splayed over Alex, can feel the beginning of Alex’s arousal against his hip.
With a bitten off curse Alex pulls out of the kiss and tucks his face into the curve of Michal’s neck. “Make it hard to say no Michal.”
Michal can’t help his snort of laughter because hard isn’t a problem for either of them. The hand on his back flexes and he relaxes, brushing the line of Alex’s jaw. “Too much?”
His only answer is a low hum he takes to be a negative and Michal presses his face into Alex’s neck and drifts off.
-----
There’s a hand on his shoulder shaking him and Michal groans, not wanting to get up. He’s warm and comfortable and Alex feels so good against him.
The thought of Alex brings everything coming back, Boston and the game, seeking Alex in his room.
It takes a moment more for his brain to catch up completely, that if he’s in Alex’s room there can be only one person the hand belongs to. Michal tips his head just enough to see and sure enough Sasha is standing over them, smiling faintly.
Heat rushes to his cheeks and he ducks his head. It doesn’t matter that Sasha knows and doesn’t care. Being caught sprawled all over Alex by his best friend is mortifying.
The hand on his shoulder moves upward, tugging at his hair. “Neuvy, need to get up. Perry wonder where you at dinner.”
Groaning Michal buries his face against Alex’s throat. He’d been hoping no one would notice his absence, chalking it up to odd goalie habits. Of course his luck wasn’t running that way though.
He shifts, moving to get up when Alex’s arm tightens, holding him and a calloused hand catches his chin, pressing upwards, Alex taking his mouth in an easy kiss.
Sasha makes an impatient sound and Alex pulls back, pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of Michal’s mouth. “Lucky you not walk in on good time Sasha.”
Blushing at Alex’s words Michal can’t help but lean down for another kiss, if only so Alex can’t make his embarrassment worse.
Michal slides from the bed, studiously avoiding Sasha’s gaze as he redresses. Supportive or not it’s still embarrassing and a little awkward. He sneaks a last look at Alex who is watching him with hooded eyes and a smile. Ducking his head he scoops up his shoes and makes for the door.
The hallway is mercifully empty. Being caught leaving Alex’s room would be hard to explain, especially with as rumpled as his clothing is.
Michal unlocks the door and Perreault looks up from the TV with a frown. “Where did you get off to when we went to dinner?”
Dropping his shoes at the foot of his bed Michal sits down. Part of him wants to say “sleeping half on top of Alex” just to see Perreault’s reaction. The greater, smart part of him clamps down though because it’s a stupid thing to say and he doesn’t think his language skills are enough to turn it into a joke.
“Was thinking. Forgot dinner.” His answer seems to satisfy Perry who goes back to the TV with a nod. Michal flops backwards and misses Alex’s warmth.