“Fucking Canadians,” Erik mutters. “You’re all crazy.”
I snicker. “Aww, is the big strong ice hockey player afraid of a little ice?” I go to give Erik a condescending hug, but he kisses me instead.
That’s one way to shut me up, and I don’t mind it. Not at all.
Nils and Silja head back to their place to get coats while Erik and I bundle up. Erik more so than me—I stop at a sensible jacket and a sweater underneath, and Erik puts on two more layers, a coat, and a scarf.
I have to admit, he’s sexy as hell even when he’s covered up, and the blue scarf brings out his eyes like nothing else. Still, I keep teasing him.
“You’re gonna be cold, Luke,” mutters Erik. “You need to dress properly. Bad weather doesn’t exist, only bad clothes.”
Letting out a scoff, I turn to face him. “The weather isn’t even bad, you’re just weak.” The sun is shining, there’s no horrible wind, and the air smells fresh. It’s beautiful.
Erik grumbles, but his soft smile betrays the act. “Come on, let’s explore Stockholm,” he says as Nils and Silja walk out of the building. “You’re going to love it, even though it’s cold as hell.”
Erik is right, and I do love Stockholm. All the pictures Erik sent me over the months don’t do the city justice, and the vibes are simply unmatched. As planned, we start the mini tour in Gamla Stan, the old city, where we wander around before dragging Erik onto a ferry so we can get a better view from the water. We do a ton of walking, go to a couple of museums, and I manage to fight jet lag.
At least until I get back to Erik’s apartment. I’m both buzzing and exhausted when I walk through his door, but the second my ass hits his couch, everything catches up to me.
“Jet lag is so trippy,” I say, yawning so wide that my jaw cracks. “It’s only three in Toronto, but I feel like I pulled an all-nighter.”
Erik squeezes my thigh. “Yeah, sightseeing is exhausting. Go shower first, and I’ll meet you in bed later.”
After brushing my teeth and slipping into Erik’s inviting bed, I wait for him so I can end our day on another good note, but my eyelids get heavier and heavier with each passing second. When I feel the covers rustle next to me, I’m almost asleep.
“Sorry, I’m way too tired to have sex tonight,” I mumble.
Erik runs his fingers through my hair, relaxing me even more. “Falling asleep next to you is already more than I could have hoped for. I’m all good.”
Even though my brain is all fuzzy from fatigue, it still manages to register my chest heaving at how goddamn sweet Erik is. “You’re amazing,” I say. “Morning head for you.”
He kisses my forehead, and I go weak. “Fuck, I'd love that. If you wake me up with a blowjob, I might never let you leave. Just make sure it’s after six and before noon.”
Those are the last words I register before I’m out like a light.
It’s still pitch black outside when I wake up, but this is Sweden, so it could be seven-thirty for all I know. I blind myself with my phone while checking the time, and in my jet lag-induced grogginess, I remember the promise I made to Erik last night.
His morning wood is so hard it’s tenting the heavy-ass duvet, and I slide under the covers to say good morning. Alarm clock? More like alarm cock.
Erik slept naked, so I’m fast to take the whole length of his dick into my mouth, sliding my tongue along the underside the way he likes. He stirs, his body reacting all the same, his breaths getting deeper and his limbs twitching gently. I pause, prompting a gentle sigh.
“Oh yeah, keep going,” Erik mumbles, his voice still husky. That’s all the encouragement I need. It isn’t long before his shaft pulses harder, and I slacken my jaw. He isn’t holding himself back like he usually does, so I have to do the heavy lifting for him, not that I mind.
I ramp up the pressure again and bring my hand into the mix, keeping a firm grip. It’s a noisy, messy affair, and Erik grunts as he gets into it. Dragging the blanket off of us, he brings a tired hand to my shoulder to rub it, appreciative and slow, and he mutters something unintelligible.
My jaw isn’t getting tired yet, but Erik deserves to come right when he fully wakes up. Sucking hard, I tighten my throat and he tenses up.
“Fuck! Luke, I’m gonna—.” At that, he bucks up and fires off into my mouth, hard and needy. I swallow his load, followinghis hips as they fall back onto the mattress. Erik lets out a deep, contented groan, and I straighten out to observe the wreckage.
Erik is hot all the time, but there isn’t much that compares to his relaxed, blissed-out body right after he busts a nut. Watching the rise and fall of his sculpted chest makes me work on autopilot, and I bring a hand under my pants to stroke myself.
I strip my shirt off before flopping back down onto the bed next to Erik, and he moves his face into the curve of my neck as I keep jacking off. The heat from his hard body pushes me over the edge, and he moans along with me when I shoot onto my stomach, the orgasm filling my mind and then clearing it.
“There’s no better way to wake up,” Erik murmurs, reaching for a pack of wet wipes from his nightstand. He lazily cleans me up before rolling over onto his stomach, planting a kiss on my lips, and resting his torso on mine. Then he falls back asleep, and I can’t blame him. It’s early, and he isn’t the one who’s jet lagged.
Slipping out from under his firm body, I put my shirt back on and stumble into the kitchen, opening the fridge to do an inventory check. There’s milk, cheese, and avocados, and when I open his pantry, I find eggs next to the bread. This should be enough, so I get to work.
As I’m plating the eggs, Erik sidles up and hugs me from behind, kissing the back of my head. I’m used to the hug—Erik sometimes did that when I cooked for him in Toronto, but the kiss is new. It’s warm, domestic, and definitely something I could get used to.
