Shrinking into his shell for another night alone, Fedor tugged at the laces to his skates. Sweat dripped off his brow more from the strain of trying to keep the doubts out of his mind rather than from the grueling game.

The game they had won, thanks in no small part to the man that made being on the ice all the more hot.

A man that wouldn't notice him, probably not even if he was older, faster, and played for Detroit.

The younger Fedorov yanked so hard he broke a lace, then let his head sink into his hands. Thoughts pressed hard and threatened to push in. He needed a cold shower before he let himself think anymore.

As he stood, he was suddenly aware he hadn't been alone in the lockeroom.

Standing across the room, studying Fedor with quiet, even blue eyes was Brendan Morrison. Part of the pressure in his mind, and definitely part of the reason he erected this shell, these protective walls every night.

When he spoke, Mo's voice was uncharacteristically soft. "Penny for your thoughts, Feds?"

He shook his head, sweaty strands clinging to his forehead.

Mo pressed on. And took a step forward. "Come on, Fedor. Level with me, man. I mean... I wouldn't be here if I wasn't ... shit, not worried, like... concerned. I mean... do you know what I mean?" His own English suffered as he tried to make himself clear.

Fedor shook his head again, but managed to utter the words, "Just thinking."

Mo once again moved closer. He took a deep breath as he took a step and seemed to regain his confidence. But his voice stayed soft. "That I could see. But you don't look good, man. You haven't for a little while."

"Of course I don't look good to you!" As soon as the words were out, Fedor's face flushed and he tried to push past Bren. But the center was quicker and pinned the young rookie up against some lockers.

`Now hold on a minute! I'm trying to tell you I'm here to talk... because I care– or I'm worried. Or something. Why are you being so–?"

"I'm not being `so'." Struggling against Brendan's grip, Fedor tried to calm himself even as tears pricked at the edges of his eyes. It was frustrating to be so close but so fucking far. "I just have thoughts, they press on my mind. It's nothing. I will figure it out. I just need a shower."

Brendan held him tight. "Thoughts? Feds, what kind of thoughts are making you so upset?"

He again shook his head, trying once again to press the chaos in his mind down. "It's nothing. It's just... the game, the team, and sometimes my personal thoughts. It's just pressure and sometimes I– Mo, please, let me go."

"You'd rather feel pressure like this?"

Brendan barely let himself think, instead he just boldly reached out, wrapped his hand around Fedor's cock, and began tugging at him.

The younger man let his head fall back for a moment in pleasure. Just as Brendan's name formed on his lips, Fedor jerked his head upright and flushed a deeper shade of red. "No! No– I cannot because tomorrow will come!"

Giving Bren a vicious shove, Fedor booked past him and headed straight for the showers. Brendan stood, stunned, for a few moments. As steam started to swirl around his feet and calves, he found his voice.

"Da fuck?" Brendan knew he was addressing an empty room, and he was glad for it. Although sincerely confused about Fedor's urge to bolt, the initial reaction couldn't be ignored. Fedor had enjoyed being touched, and more importantly– being touched by _Brendan_.

There was no way Mo was going to let that go. So, he was glad for the empty locker room because a plan started to form. After locking the door, he rooted around in Jovo's locker. He knew he would find what he was looking for in– ah-ha!

Fedor had struggled free –not easily, but too easily for any real convincing to go on. If Brendan was going to get him to open up, he would need Fedor to be his captive audience for longer than a few strokes.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Immediately flipping on the shower faucet to full heat, Fedor turned away and peeled off the rest of his gear so that he could get properly cleaned up –and get away from whatever _that_ was. Brendan might be teasing, he might be serious, but Feds wasn't in the mood to be made fun of. So just in case it was a rib, he decided to do the safe thing and walk away.

Stripped down to his boxer briefs, he grabbed a towel and headed toward the water's spray. The moment the water's pressure was adjusted the way he wanted, Fedor felt two strong hands cover his mouth and eyes and pull him back against a wall of man. Fedor's first response was panic, but the familiar feel of rough skin broke through his confusion and told him not to fight.

A gag slipped into his mouth, and a blindfold prevented his sight. Suddenly, something soft but tight clasped his wrists together in front of him. He was now bound and gagged, and the time to fight back was definitely passed. Despite being at the mercy of whoever was behind him, a sense of safety settled on him and he instinctively trusted in what was about to happen.

A part of the young winger was hoping that his instincts were right: that he knew exactly who was behind him. A part of him continued to be worried. Still, there was something exhilarating about this. After all, it was all his thinking and running that prevented him from getting a real answer– ever. At least now the ability to run was taken away from him; all responsibility was taken away from him. He had nothing but the hope that he could believe in the hands that he was in.

The hands were brutal against his soft flesh, roaming everywhere before finally settling on his hips. One hand steadied Fedor's hip as the other wrapped around him for support.

"Lean forward," a raw and stormy voice commanded.

When Fedor paused, the hand left his hip and suddenly jerked painfully back on his hair, "I said lean!" His deep grumble echoed through the tiled room. The hand around Fedor's waist tightened, forcing his ass against a swelling cock.

Fedor obeyed, and the water from the shower head cascaded over his body. As the liquid dripped off of his toned muscles, the man used his free hand to rub it all over his now hot skin. He paid special attention to Fedor's pale ass, pinching and then slapping it.

This earned a little yelp from his prisoner, and a cruel chuckle from him. "Sensitive, huh? Let's see where else...."

With those words and brutish force, his hand kneaded at Fedor's chest. The man rolled each nipple between his thumb and finger, making his captive moan and arch his back.

The unseen man suddenly grabbed Fedor's balls and started rolling them, massaging, encouraging Fedor to strain against him.

"Like that, huh?," were the only words of warning as he squeezed the sensitized mound of flesh hard.

In truth, he liked that too, and had by now become very hard, so it was somewhat painful. Fedor whimpered through the gag, and the strong man's coarse hands continued to violate his body until finally Fedor was set up straight and he let go.

Fedor heard the sound of a zipper and rustling fabric, and then suddenly the hands were back on his hips and thighs. He felt the soft smooth skin of a thick amazing dick rubbing against his bare ass. Again, using one arm around his waist to steady him, he commanded, "Spread your legs. I want to sink into your tight little ass."

Remembering the painful hair pull, he did as he was told this time. Fedor felt two fingers of the free hand slide down his ass crack and push almost tenderly at the ring of muscle. The man spread his callused fingers, spreading Fedor's hole open. He was leaning into the water again, being steadied only by this faceless aggressor. In one bestial movement, the unseen man sunk his entire length into Fedor's tight tunnel. The Russian man gasped through his gag, the invasion and speed bring a wonderful mix of pleasure and pain. The unseen man groaned loudly and let his head fall down between Fedor's shoulder blades.

Finally adjusting to how tight this virgin ass was, especially from this angle, he pulled back and thrust even deeper. As he moved, he ran his tongue along Fedor's spine, licking and biting his skin. Bracing himself against the wall with the free hand and holding Fedor's hips still in place, the man set a carnal pace. He grunted as he pounded into Fedor, faster and faster and almost brutishly. Every time he ferociously sank into the unyielding hole, he struck Fedor's prostate with the head of his dick before plunging the rest of the thick member farther into his tight body.

Fedor began to shake and moan, and the man ran his free hand over his lower back. As he felt Fedor clench around him, he roughly massaged his lower back. A moment later, Fedor's cum arched from him, hitting the tiles. The man then raked his hand to Fedor's ass, and plunged his index finger between the round globes. This excited the Russian even more, prolonging his eruption. Fedor screamed through the gag, encouraging the man to move more rapidly and savagely. When he felt Fedor's tight ass struggle to claim his pulsing cock, he gave a few last thrusts and exploded inside of his new lover. Their liquids mixed together as they ran down Fedor's strong legs.

Panting and grunting, the two stayed like that for a moment. When the man began to soften he pulled out of him, kissing his shoulder. He took out the gag and removed the blindfold.

Fedor looked down at his hands, "Fuzzy cuffs? Are you kidding me?"

The rough, now wet, hands turned him around. Brendan's face was flushed with the power of his orgasm. He leaned up and passionately kissed his captive before unlocking him. "Get showered, Feds. I have a surprise for you." As if that wasn't a surprise enough.

Twenty minutes later, Brendan and Fedor were cuddled up on top of a large soft blanket and under another one. He had taken him to a hilltop to watch the stars, and sleep under them. Warm and safe in his arms, Fedor was starting to figure out that he would follow Brendan to the ends of the earth.

As they snuggled together, Brendan whispered against Fedor's messy waves, "I knew I had to do something drastic. I hope it wasn't overboard."

Fedorov turned in his arms and met his teammates eyes. A rarity to find them completely sincere, he couldn't help but tease, "And if I said you did? What would you do then?"

"Figure out a way to make it up to you." Bren smirked back.

"Ok, well, that frightens me more. But... no. No need. I think I very much enjoyed that."

Brendan pulled his new lover closer. "Yeah? Think you'd like to enjoy it again some time soon?" Fedorov just nodded, and began to look distracted again. "Hey, stick with me. What's on your mind?"

"I just don't understand why such extreme? I mean... cuffs? A gag? I'm not noisey! That's Trevor!"

"Because I knew I had to get you to quit making up excuses on why to run away. I knew how I felt, and I was pretty sure I knew how you felt. I wasn't wrong, was I?"

Fedor shook his head. "No, you're not wrong. You make me happy."

Brendan raised his eyebrows at that one. "Yeah? Hmm. That's new. But I'm glad. I don't want you to run away from me anymore, ok?"

"But... tomorrow... when we have a team meeting...." Feds looked confused, and very much like he had just made a beautiful mistake.

Brendan stroked his hair until Feds could listen. "Tomorrow I'll be here. And the tomorrow after that. And I mean it, ok? Everything I said... everything I did."

"Ok. And I will figure out ways to make you happy, too."

Mo continued to smile at the sweet Soviet kid. "Oh yeah? How long until you give that up?"

"I won't give up! I'll spend the rest of my life figuring out ways to make you happy."

"Ha. That's a long time."

"I know. And I want to spend it with you." The seriousness of his words started to weigh in on Brendan, and he leaned back a little. After all, this was a kid– a beautiful, talented kid. There was no reason he needed to be tied down to a sarcastic brat pushing 30.

"Don't let your mouth write checks your ass can't cash."

"My ass is good for it, I swear."

They both broke out into huge grins, effectively ending the conversation. Mo was surprised –and delighted– to find humor bubble so quickly to the surface. Fedor on the other hand, was so relieved that he could finally just be himself with the very man he wanted to be with. The pressure was off, the chaos seemed at least calmed, and he had never felt so comfortable.

*~*~* fin *~*~*