Work Text:
“Jesus Christ, Kaner, what have you done?”
~
Sex magic was illegal, obviously. But so were a lot of things. Guns were illegal, and people still got shot, drugs were illegal and people still got high. So sex magic was illegal, but Patrick Kane was still here, slumping in the door of their hotel room, sweaty and wide-eyed and begging Jonny to fuck him. Technicalities didn’t really count for a lot in the face of that. Illegal or not, it was still happening.
“Jon...Jonny...please, c’mon, please, I need you to...”
Yeah.
“Seriously, did you do this to yourself? What - why would you...”
Pat’s eyes were huge, desperate, as he looked up into Jonny’s face.
“I need you.”
~
There was always the hospital.
Jonny paced the hotel room, trying to think, as Pat slumped against the wall and watched him with his sleepy blue eyes. His colour was high and his breath was coming fast and Jonny didn’t know what to do. The hospital would be at least somewhat equipped for this. They’d get him in isolation and they’d get a magician out and figure out a way to break the spell. It normally wore off anyway, in a few...days, Jonny guessed. He wasn’t exactly an expert. He did know that they had a game tomorrow, but this was Pat’s health, that was more...important...than the game. Right? Yeah, of course. Obviously.
He frowned. Pat was begging him now, and Jonny was still just pacing back and forth, hand running compulsively through his hair, looking back at him furtively. He needed to do something. Needed to call an ambulance, yeah, needed to - shit, stop Pat from reaching out as Jonny got too close and trying to unbutton his pants.
Yeah, Jonny, time to be a good person, here.
~
Except, except the game tomorrow, that was actually a pretty important game, they’d started to build some momentum and playoffs were creeping up on them and they really needed to keep it going with a win. And Jonny had to at least take into consideration what would be the best thing for the team, didn’t he? As captain, wasn’t that like, his duty? Yeah, it totally was. So he clamped his hand down on Pat’s wrist, trying to ignore the moan of pleasure Pat let out at the contact (at the same time trying to ignore the way the sound made something hot come to life low in his gut), and struggled to think things through.
“Pat, wait. Pat - Kaner! Shut the hell up, I need to think.”
“You need to fuck me,” Pat said seriously. Jonny shook his head in frustration, God, the way those words made his head spin, made him.... No. Just calm down, Tazer. What are your options?
Sex magic was normally pretty routine. Someone got dosed up - either they were cursed or they did it intentionally because they were fucking morons like his idiot best friend - and they needed to have sex. Sometimes with a specific person, sometimes with just, like, whoever, but it needed to be as quickly as possible or the effects lingered, intensified.. They’d get desperate. They’d lose their mind. Eventually, it’d start hurting and for a while it’d be pretty bad. Jonny had heard stories about sex magic gone wrong, everyone had.
But if they were kept in isolation, if there was a magician on hand, it eventually went away. That’s what he should be doing, calling the hospital and getting someone to come take care of Pat. He’d be okay in a few days. That was option one.
But then.
If the sex urges were directed towards a specific person (‘Jon, Jonny, please, I need you so fucking bad, come on, please’) and that person was willing, and there wasn’t any danger to the person who’d been hit - well there was a solution a lot simpler than a few days of agony in a locked ward. Simpler for both of them.
Jonny could do this. Pat was biting his lips, trying to hold himself still but unable to stop twisting his wrist in Jonny’s hand. His skin was hot, burning up, and the look in his eyes as he stared at Jonny’s face...
Well yeah, Jonny could do this. Could decide to, you know, take one for the team. Could put Pat out of his misery, spend a night fucking him senseless (for the team) and then get up tomorrow happy in the knowledge that he’d done his duty and Pat would be fine to play.
It was really hard being captain, sometimes.
“Jonny, I want you so bad. I’ve fucking wanted you forever. Need you now, need you to fuck me, take me, just...whatever you want, just please.”
Yeah. Really, really hard.
~
“Okay, Kaner.” The look Pat gave him was so hopeful, so ready, that Jonny decided to finally stop pretending that he hadn’t been hard in his briefs from pretty much the moment Pat had stepped through his door. Like, it was embarrassing being turned on by Patrick Kane, sure, but he was just going to have to deal with that tomorrow because Jesus Christ it felt good to be wanted that bad.
“Yeah?” Pat had been chewing and sucking on his bottom lip so much that it was all red and thick and shiny with spit. Jonny wanted to touch it, and then realised that he could - he could do all the things he wanted to, tonight. Fucking...finally.
He reached out a hand that felt heavy, clumsy, and pushed two fingers against Pat’s mouth, sliding them over his lip. “Yeah, Kaner. Come on, let’s...let’s do this.”
He also didn’t have to be smooth, which was a relief. Pat wouldn’t care, Pat was too far gone to care about anything except Jonny’s cock which...yeah. Yeah that was really doing it for Jonny. The cock in question throbbed a little, got harder still. Pat wasn’t the only one who was getting impatient.
Jonny took a deep breath. He could do this.
“Knees, Kaner,” he said, voice low and tightly controlled, and half a second later he was looking down at Pat and Pat was looking up at him with his stupid mouth hanging open and spit smeared on his cheek from Jon’s fingers.
Jonny swallowed.
“Think, for one second Kaner, I need you to think - what do you want?”
Pat blinked at him. Jonny actually felt kind of dumb, asking. It was obvious what Pat wanted. And it was obvious by now that Jonny really, really wanted to give it to him. But...in the deepest, darkest depths of his mind, Jonny had wanted to give it to him for a fucking long time. Pat’s face, with his stupid, sleepy eyes and his stupid fucking mouth, had popped into Jonny’s mind thirty seconds before coming approximately every single time he’d jerked off for like, the past three years. It was kind of overwhelming to be here with him, at last, and for these reasons. He just...he wanted to be sure.
He reached out his hand again, cupped Pat’s jaw. “Tell me.” He hesitated, then figured that if he was gonna go, he was gonna go all out. “Tell me nicely.”
“Uh,” Pat looked like he might have just come in his pants, which wouldn’t cure him or anything, it wasn’t as simple as that for someone who was under the influence of sex magic. It was like they had never ending reserves or something, until they started getting it from the person they needed. Also, it was fucking hot that Jonny could do that to Pat so easy, with just his voice, with just an order.
“Tazer - Jon, Jonny, please,” Pat whispered, and his voice was raw and broken. “Please, I need you. I need your cock, man, I need you in me. Oh god, Jonny, please...”
“Yeah, okay, Kaner,” Jonny breathed, and then he was fumbling at his zipper (about time, a small, traitorous voice in his head was saying), and Pat’s hands were getting in the way and taking over, and he was so eager, so desperate for it that it was all Jonny could do to slump back against the wall and concentrate on holding himself up as Pat got his dick out and...shit, yes.
Who knew Patrick Kane was good at anything other than playing hockey and embarrassing himself? Because Jonny wasn’t sure if it was just the magic or what, but holy shit, the kid could suck cock like a champ. He was all spit and warm pressure and deep moans and sloppy licks against the head of Jonny’s cock. Messy, obviously, and completely lacking in class and finesse, but still. Amazing.
“You’re really - shit that’s good, Kaner,” Jonny managed to gasp, running a shaking hand though Pat’s short, soft hair. Pat pulled off for half a second to smile up at him, eyes at half mast, lashes long and stupid and sexy.
“Keep talking,” he said, voice thick and hoarse already. Jonny clenched his fist, catching Pat’s hair between his fingers, and Pat grunted a little, eyes drooping shut, and got back to work.
“You want me to - fuck, Pat, you would be into fucking dirty talk, huh. You get off thinking about this? Thinking about my cock down your throat? Or just thinking about me bossing you around.” Jonny laughed a little, thumping his head back against the wall. “I boss you around all the fucking time, man. I love it. You always been into it this bad?”
Fuck, he was going to have to, like, not ask Pat questions, because that meant Pat had to pull off his dick to answer, which was just a tragedy as far as Jonny was concerned. But on the other hand...
“Always, Jonny.” He was rubbing his wet lips over the head of Jonny’s cock as he talked, like he couldn’t handle being out of contact with it even for a second. “Always wanted this.”
“Fuckin’...do it then,” was all Jonny could make himself say, and then Pat was swallowing him down, taking him deep, and that was obviously a practised move. So either Pat had taught himself to do this with, like, bananas or whatever (Jonny really didn’t need to think about Pat owning actual dildos at this point), or he’d done it before with other guys. Jonny frowned down at him, thinking about that, about Pat with someone else, learning how to suck cock like - like a pro.
He yanked his hand again, pulling Pat off, ignoring the part of him that cried out in protest. Something fierce was stirring in his gut, and it just got worse as he stared down at Pat’s red face and wet, swollen mouth.
Fuck.
“You do this with anyone else?” he asked harshly, twisting his fingers in Pat’s hair. Pat looked blank, staring up at him with huge eyes.
“I...what? Come on, Jonny, let me -” He strained back towards Jonny’s cock, but Jonny held him firm.
“Seriously, Kaner. You do this with other guys?”
Pat’s eyes cleared, a little, and he went still. “Yeah,” he whispered. “Yeah, but I always wished it was you.”
Jonny just looked at him, then, looked into his eyes. There was no more pretending, obviously. Jonny wanted this, wanted more than just a blowjob, wanted more than just to cure Pat and have him okay to play the next day. He wanted this.
Pat.
Shit. That was embarrassing.
“I wanna fuck you,” he said, as if just kind of figuring it out for himself. And he was pretty sure...yeah, it looked like Pat was coming in his pants again, teeth sinking into his bottom lip, eyes squeezing shut, hips stuttering forward like he was desperate for friction that wasn’t there. God, it was so - Jonny caught his breath as he watched, and his own cock spurted out a little precome in fucking sympathy. He wondered if he’d still be able to do that when the magic wore off, if he’d still be able to get Pat off with just his voice. He hoped so. He figured he could maybe at least spend a lot of time trying.
“Ugh, you just.” He hauled Pat up, pulled him in close. Pat was still hard, obviously, would stay hard until it was all out of his system. Jonny pressed his hand to the front of Pat’s jeans, felt the wetness, smirked a little at the way he shivered and winced.
“I’m gonna fuck you,” he mumbled in Pat’s ear. “And you definitely won’t be fucking thinking about any other guys.”
“What other guys?” Pat asked, like he was genuinely confused, and okay, Jonny felt a little stupid. Like, Pat was literally begging for his cock, it was a dumb time to start getting jealous about his other hookups.
But still.
“Come here.” He dragged Pat across the room to his bed and tumbled them both down onto it, pressing Pat into the mattress. Pat looked like he was maybe about to start hyperventilating, these dumb little moans escaping on every exhale, his chest heaving like he’d just gotten off the ice. Jonny held him down by his shoulders, settled his knees on either side of his hips, and let Pat arch up to rub their cocks together, struggling for friction. He thought he could probably keep them like that until Pat came again, it probably wouldn’t take long at all, but...no. He’d wasted enough time. Pat’s jeans were still mostly done up, seriously, what was Jonny even thinking?
“Take your pants off,” he said, and lifted his hips up just enough for Pat to obey, relinquishing his hold on his shoulders and fisting the pillow instead. Pat did as he was told (which Jonny could get used to), wriggling out of his jeans and kicking them to the foot of the bed, and then trying to half sit up so he could pull off his shirt, too. Jonny wasn’t gonna get in the way of that, so he sat back on his heels, watching, as Pat tossed the shirt onto the floor and flopped back onto his elbows, looking back at Jonny expectantly.
And Jon just about froze up because god...damn.
Pat was all flushed and sweaty, which Jonny had seen plenty of times before in the locker room, but now, Jesus, now it was all for him and it was kind of the best thing he’d ever seen in his life. He trailed a finger down Pat’s stomach, lower, down to his cock, all red and so fucking hard and wet with come.
“Fuck, Kaner,” he whispered, and touched just the head, just to see it jerk up and hear Pat’s pathetic little whimper. And then it was like a floodgate had opened, like Jonny had suddenly been hit with some sort of weird sex magic himself. He could feel the last shreds of his resistence crumbling away, along with his sanity.
“I’m gonna,” he warned, and Pat let his eyes drift closed again, lifting one leg to hook around Jonny’s waist. And Jonny was still wearing his own jeans, still had his tee-shirt on, but who the fuck cared? Pat was lying there open and begging for him. He really needed to get on that.
He reached up and shoved his fingers back in between Pat’s lips. “Suck,” he said hoarsely, thrusting in and out of Pat’s mouth. “Get them - get them wet.”
Pat’s eyes opened for a second and met Jonny’s. Jon wondered how lucid he was - how much was really getting through to him. Whether he’d remember all of this, remember the way he licked Jonny’s fingers, drooled spit onto them. Remember how his legs just fell apart for Jonny as Jonny brought those wet fingers down to his ass. Remember how he pleaded - yeah, Jonny, do it, fuck me - when Jonny pressed one finger against him.
“Are you.” Jonny hesitated, watching what he was doing like it was someone else, like it was a movie. Pat was so goddamn tight. This couldn’t actually be happening to him, right?
“Is this good?”
Pat actually laughed at him. He obviously couldn’t be that fucking doped up or spelled up or whatever if he could find time in his busy begging to be nailed schedule to laugh at Jonny. Jonny narrowed his eyes, and Pat just shook his head once, pressing his cheek into the pillow.
“So good,” he said. “So - shit, don’t stop. Want you. Want it.”
And then he was half sitting up again, which made the angle kind of awkward but whatever, because he was spitting on his own hand now and grabbing Jonny’s dick. And objectively that might have been kind of gross, sure, but it felt fucking good, and Jonny pumped forward into his grip a couple of times, letting out a few embarrassing whimpers of his own, before shoving Pat back down on the bed.
“Okay, I get it,” he said, hopefully sounding a lot calmer than he was. Pat grabbed Jonny’s biceps, fingers digging in, and chewed on his own bottom lip. Jonny thought, kind of hysterically, that maybe Pat needed something in his mouth, like maybe he should stop and get him a mouth guard or something. The way Pat’s bottom lip was all red and swollen, it was a valid fucking concern.
Okay. Seriously time to stop thinking. Instead, he sunk another finger into Pat’s ass and almost died with how awesome it felt. He thrust a little, gently, like he had when his fingers were in Pat’s mouth, and Pat’s grip tightened on his arms, digging in bruises that Jonny was going to feel for days. He thought it was good, though. No, fuck that, he knew it was good.
“Enough,” Pat hissed, wiggling his hips a bit. “Okay, it’s enough, I’m ready.”
Well, if he was sure...
Jonny wasn’t exactly an expert at this, but he wasn’t new, either. He pulled his fingers out and spat on them again, rubbed the wet around Pat’s ass, more spit, this time on his cock. He would have given a lot of money for some lube, but it wasn’t really something he packed for a road trip, and besides, he figured if he tried to get up from this bed Pat might actually try to strangle him.
So whatever, he’d done more with less and it wasn’t like Pat was complaining.
“Okay,” he said, lining up his cock. He leaned forwards, braced one hand on the pillow again. “Patrick, look at me.”
Pat did, eyes lidded and sleepy, pupils blown.
“Jonny,” he whispered. “Come on.”
And Jonny dropped his head and kissed him as he finally let his cock push forward into that tight, wet heat.
Pat made a noise of surprise, and it was even money whether it was from the kiss or the, you know, dick shoving into his ass. Jonny would have to go for the kiss, though, because that had surprised him, too. He’d just felt the need to...if he was gonna take Pat like this, he wanted to take all of him, and that meant, in whatever weird, twisted sex logic had overtaken him, kissing Pat like he owned him.
And that insanity lasted all of about fourteen seconds until he remembered what else he should have been worried about - lube was kind of optional, but for Jonny, a condom wasn’t.
“Shit,” he muttered to himself with feeling, pulling away from Pat’s mouth. This...wasn’t like him, he was normally careful about that kind of thing. And he knew he was fine, obviously, but who had any idea where Patrick had been, like if he’d even actually managed to get laid in the past few months, who the hell would want to actually have sex with Pat, who would choose that, what kind of -
“Hey.”
Pat slid his fingers up Jonny’s arm and over his shoulder, cupping the back of his neck. “Hey, it’s okay. There hasn’t been anyone else for...a really long time.”
So what, he was a mind reader now? Jonny blinked at him. It was possibly literally killing him that he wasn’t yet actively fucking Pat, like he could feel the heat around his cock, feel how good it was about to be, and yet he had to stop and deal with this. No wonder they’d made him captain. He should be fucking sainted.
“You seem...more yourself,” he said, voice only a little shaky. He looked at Pat closely. “Are you cured already?”
“If I say yes, will you stop fucking me? Because if so, no.”
Well he sounded cured to Jonny, but he also sounded like he didn’t want Jonny to stop. Okay, then.
“We should get a condom,” he said, but almost without his permission his hips had started pumping, and Pat was gasping and writhing up to meet him, and fine. Fine, Jonny could die of the syph or whatever other weird diseases Pat had picked up on the streets of Chicago, fine, as long as this never had to end.
“I’m not cured,” Pat was saying insistently, grabbing at Jonny’s ass and trying to pull him closer. “I’m really fucking not. Don’t you dare stop.”
Jonny hitched one of Pat’s thighs up around his hips and sank in as deep as he could, holding himself taut for a minute before pulling back and doing it again.
“You sure about that?” he asked, because he’d been working a thing before the sex magic had started leaking into his brain and making him all desperate, and he kind of wanted to get back to that.
“So sure,” Pat said, hands everywhere, now, clutching at Jonny, squeezing him, running over his back, stroking through his hair. “C’mon Tazer, get to it.”
Jon snapped his hips, slamming into Pat hard enough to shove him up the bed a little. “Who the fuck’s in charge here,” he asked, although it was obvious neither of them was, really. But Jonny was the one doing the fucking, and Pat was the one doing the begging, so Jonny figured he should at least give it a shot. Even if he did feel like he was losing his mind with how good it was.
And oh, Christ, it was good.
Pat was tight, so goddamned tight, squeezing around Jonny’s dick and hardly opening up for him at all. It was so intense it almost hurt, but Jonny didn’t care, actually kind of liked it, same as he liked the way Pat was scratching his back, digging more bruises into him. And he was giving as good as he got, his grip on Pat’s hips was going to leave marks for sure.
Which, wow, he really fucking liked that idea.
“I wanna do this all the time,” he said, panting, eyes locked on Pat’s. “Wanna keep you for my fucking self, wanna have this whenever I - whenever I fucking feel like it.”
“Shit, Jonny,” Pat looked like he was close to coming again. Apparently he really was into dirty talk. “Yeah, I’m yours, you know that.”
“Good.” Jonny let go of his death grip on Pat’s hip, reached for his cock instead. It was already wet with come and sweat and spit, and when Jonny started stroking his hand quickly up and down Pat’s eyes almost rolled into the back of his head.
“Make me come,” he begged, snapping his hips up and then back down onto Jonny’s cock. “Please Jonny, I’ll do anything, anything you want, I’ll be yours forever, just make me come.”
“Yeah, Patrick.” Jonny figured he wasn’t too far off himself, actually, not with Pat doing his little porn star act underneath him. He’d found a good rhythm, fast and hard and so goddamned deep, and he felt so good and suddenly he just wanted to -
“Pat,” he whispered, and shoved his free hand in Pat’s hair, grabbing a handful of curls and tugging. “Pat come here.”
And once more Pat did as he was told, reaching up as Jonny leaned down, crashing their lips together.
It was better than it had any right to be. Messy and too hard and Jonny thought maybe he’d split Pat’s lip but Pat was just whimpering and kissing him back even harder, shoving his tongue into Jonny’s mouth. Jonny let him, let him take over, let his own mouth go slack and open because he was so close to coming and oh shit, shit, he could feel Pat fucking exploding between them, feel it dripping over his hand, feel they way he went that much tighter around Jonny’s cock, feel it in the tenseness of his whole body.
Jonny was completely helpless, obviously, following him over the edge with a low, vital grunt that got lost in Pat’s mouth, swallowed up by Pat’s frantic kisses. It was like the world was ending around them, like the entire universe had stopped to wait, and nothing fucking mattered except the way Pat took everything he had to give and opened himself up for more.
In short, Jon had the best orgasm of his life while fucking Patrick motherfucking Kane. Jesus Christ.
“Jonny,” Pat whispered as Jonny slowed down, groaning softly, and eventually pulled out. “Oh shit, Jonny.”
“Yeah,” Jonny agreed, and rolled onto his back, waiting for his heart to stop trying to escape out of his chest. It was like little aftershocks were still racing through his body, and he was hyper-aware of all the places Pat was still touching him hip and ankle and elbow. All he could do was lay there and wait for everything to finish just...washing over him.
So obviously the first thing he did when he could breath again was hit Pat across the chest as hard as he could with the back of his hand.
"Sex magic? Seriously? You fucking idiot."
Pat just shrugged, rubbing his fingers idly over the mark Jonny had just left.
"I didn't hear you complaining too loudly when you were coming in my ass a minute ago dude," he said with a faint, smug grin.
Jonny blushed, because it was true, and hit Pat again because...well, because he felt like it.
Pat let him.
"What if I'd said no?" Jonny asked, frowning, his voice sounding loud and desperate and a little pathetic to his own ears. "You could have ended up in hospital."
Pat scoffed. "I knew you wouldn't say no. We've got a game tomorrow."
Jonny's frown deepened.
"Jesus Christ, Kaner," he sputtered, rolling onto his side to look into Pat's face, "You can't just - it's not like - "
He didn't know what he was even trying to say, except that it had something to with some things - not many, maybe just one or two - being more important than fucking hockey.
And like, he was only just figuring that out for himself, how could he possibly hope to explain it to Pat?
Pat, apparently, didn't seem interested in letting him even try. He blinked up at Jonny for a few seconds more, and then just launched himself at Jonny's face, smashing their mouths together and shoving Jonny down onto his back.
"Okay?" he said against Jonny's lips, cupping his jaw, pulling back for a moment to study him eagerly before diving back in.
"Fucking...Kaner.." Jonny mumbled into the kiss. He wondered if it was the magic again, if this was going to be his life from now on, Patrick Kane constantly hot for his dick. Jesus.
"You sure you're cured?" he asked suspiciously, wrenching his mouth away and holding Pat back by his shoulders.
Pat rolled his eyes. "Yes, you moron. I just...you know..." He trailed off, and let uncertainty show in his face for the first time that night, dropping his eyes.
Something in Jonny's heart twisted and throbbed, and he compulsively tightened his grip on Pat’s shoulders before reversing their positions, shoving Pat over onto his back and climbing on top of him, staring down into his face.
“Patrick,” he said firmly, and slid his fingers into Pat’s hair, tugging as he leaned down for a long, slow kiss, making it deep, trying to put everything he was feeling into it. Everything he couldn’t say in words.
When he pulled back, Pat looked kind of dazed and out of it and...happy.
“Okay?” Jonny echoed, swiping his thumb over Pat’s wet bottom lip. He figured he was asking a lot with that one word. His fingers were still in Pat’s hair, pulling harder now, insistent, and he let his full weight press Pat down into the bed. He wanted this, wanted Pat. Wanted everything.
Pat took a deep, shaky breath and smiled at him, every last trace of uncertainty erased. He wrapped his arms around Jonny’s shoulders, pushed his head against Jonny’s hand.
“Yeah, cap,” he said, licking his lips and letting his thumb catch the top of Jonny’s thumb. “Yeah, I mean whatever - whatever you want. I want it to. Not because of the stupid sex magic bullshit, but just because. Because I always have.”
Jonny’s heart twisted again. He closed his eyes, just let himself breath in Pat’s scent and feel his body, hard and open and trusting beneath him.
This... this was a horrible idea, and he was probably going to regret the hell out of it, and anything that started out with sex magic was bad news, and...
He opened his eyes and finally matched Pat’s smile with one of his own.
“Good, Kaner,” he said softly. “That’s good.”
And fuck everything.
It was.