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“You scored a goal.”
“Yeah?”
“And you just…” Zee made a bitten-off noise.
“I was with the boys. I just got to my room,” Ishir explained, and why was he even placating him? The disappointment in Zee’s voice shouldn’t cut him so deep.
There was a pause. “Oh. Yeah?”
“Yes. Jeez. Gonna put a tracker on me next, God.”
Zee made an interested sound. Ishir rolled his eyes.
“I’m tired. I’m gonna go to sleep,” Ishir mumbled.
“What? But you scored a goal.”
“I can pick someone up tomorrow.” He didn’t usually wait until the next day, but it happenedsometimes.
“But those aren’t the rules.”
“I kinda make the rules here,” Ishir said, but it sounded like a lie.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Zee insisted.
“Why? It’s the West Coast. Nobody knows shit about hockey here. It’ll be fine.” Ishir didn’t know why he was pushing. He didn’t actually want to pick up without Zee.
There was a long silence on the other side of the line. “You in your suit?” Zee asked.
“Yeah.”
“Okay. Take it off.”
Ishir’s pulse picked up. “And then what?”
“Take it off and I’ll tell you.”
Ishir didn’t hesitate further, placing the phone on the pillow and taking all his clothes off.
He was already half-hard, which was ridiculous. They hadn’t done anything. He hadn’t even been in the mood to jerk off a few minutes ago. A single order from Zee, though, and he was melting into a pliable, eager thing.
“Done,” Ishir gasped, embarrassingly breathless.
“You’re always so good, huh?” Zee teased.
Ishir didn’t care if it was a joke. The words filled him up anyway, making his cock twitch.
“You got a toy with you?”
“No,” Ishir said weakly.
“Why not?” Zee sounded like he was pouting.
“I don’t exactly bring my toys on roadies, Zee, jeez.”
“I mean, youcould,” Zee mumbled. “That’s fine, though. You’ve got lube, yeah?”
“Yeah.” Of course he had lube. He was a gay guy.
