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hockey-fics · 5 years

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Just Once ~ Vince Dunn

Summary: Your history with Vince resurfaces when you both end up back in your hometown over the summer.

Word Count: ~3,500

Warnings: Drinking. Language. Talk of, references to, and insinuations of sex (basically, if you’re uncomfortable with sex this might not be for you but if you’re looking for smut this probably isn’t for you either).

A/N: This one might have a part two, because I’m not happy with the ending. (If a part two gets written I’ll leave an update here.) (I wrote part two! Here’s a link to it.)

*I also edited this about five minutes after writing it which makes for the worst editing, so I’m sorry about any mistakes*

Sitting on the tailgate of a truck backed up to a bonfire on the edge of the lake you glance around at the group of people. These summer moments, coming back to your hometown and reuniting with old friends, were the easiest way to bring you back to your high school years. There were differences now though, subtle, but there. The drinks, no longer stolen from parent’s kitchens or purchased with fake IDs, were a little more refined and flowed a little less quickly. Conversations took a more adult tone, less giggling and whispering. But being back here with these familiar people was like stepping into a time machine to a younger time, a simpler time.

“What’s your problem?” a voice asks, drawing you out of your thoughts. Turning your head you look over at Adam, the playful smile on his face bringing one from yourself.

“Nothing,” you tell him honestly, glancing back around again. “Just always feels so nostalgic coming back here.”

Adam nods, taking a drink from the plastic red cup he was holding, letting a moment of silence pass as he stands with you and takes in the growing number of people around the bonfire. Sudden yelling and cheering draws your attention towards the direction of the small dirt road that led to the water’s edge. It takes a moment for you to realize the reason behind the sudden uproar. Vince Dunn. Your eyes land on him, a beer already in his hand though he had only just arrived. Had this been any other year his arrival wouldn’t have created this much excitement. But this year was different. This year he was a Stanley Cup Champion and the fanfare from his friends from highschool was evident.

When you look away Adam is staring at you expectantly. “What?” you ask him.

“You two were...you were together for awhile, weren’t you?”

Laughing quietly you shrug, taking a sip of your drink. “Yeah. But we were teenagers,” you tell him, sneaking another glance at Vince.

Your history with Vince wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. You went to the same schools growing up, had classes together. But the classroom wasn’t the only place your feelings for him had developed. He was on the same hockey team as your brother and it was in the arena that you fell even harder for him. When you went to watch your brother’s games it was never your brother you were watching. At fourteen, under threat of your friends telling Vince about your crush on him, you had told him the truth. From there things went about as well as any teenage relationship ever goes. Rarely going a few months without some sort of threat of ending things before quickly running back to each other as if the relationship had any real-world repercussions. He had been your first in almost any first a person could imagine, including what you thought to be your first heartbreak at sixteen years old.

“Are you going to talk to him?” Adam asks, watching you closely.

“Maybe. He’s clearly a pretty popular guy right now,” you say, placing a hand onto the cool metal of the truck box behind you and leaning against it. “I didn’t realize he was going to be here.”

Adam chuckles, raising his eyebrows. “Were you not going to come if you had known?”

“I didn’t say that,” you state defensively, running your finger along the side of the can you were drinking from, collecting the condensation that had developed on it. When you look back over Vince is staring right back at you and you feel your heart skip a beat. Somehow six years later that childhood crush still had some sort of impact on you. He had grown into himself in a way that you had never imagined. He had filled out, grown up, and seeing him playing on your TV didn’t do him justice. After forcing a smile onto your lips to signify some sort of hello you quickly look away, stomach twisting into knots.

“Looks like you’re not going to get a choice about talking to him,” Adam says, taking a step away from you. Adam recognizes the looks of confusion on your face, nodding behind you before turning around and walking away.

“Hey,” Vince says when you look back in the other direction.

Swallowing a lump that had formed in your throat, you pull your arm from where it was propped behind you, sitting up straighter. “Hi,” you say quietly, feeling unusually uneasy in his presence. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that your skin suddenly felt warm, tingly, your stomach filled with same butterflies you used to experience around him all the time. But there was no way you should still be feeling those feelings around him again, after all this time. “Congratulations, winning the Stanley Cup, pretty impressive.”

“Thanks, yeah, it’s been incredible,” Vince says, moving closer to lean against the tailgate of the truck you were sitting on. “How’ve you been?”

“Pretty good.” Lifting the can of Nutrl you were drinking back to your lips you take a quick sip hoping the vaguely lemony vodka soda could take some of the edge you were feeling off. “Well, not as good as you’ve been, obviously.”

Vince chuckles and you watch him shuffle a little closer to you, slowly, like he was trying to do it without you noticing. Glancing down you watch his hand fiddle with the bottle of beer in his hands.

“How, um, how’s your mouth?” you ask, feeling antsy with the split second of silence that had fallen upon the interaction. You had watched him get injured during the playoffs and it had been harder to handle than you ever expected. You thought about trying to get in contact with him, sure that someone you knew would have an updated phone number. To see how he was doing, wish him well. But you had ultimately decided against it.

A smirk appears on Vince’s lips and you furrow your eyebrows, wondering what was going on in his mind. “It’s all fine now,” he tells you. “Why? Did you have something you wanted me to do with my mouth?”

Your look of confusion melds into an incredulous one as you let out a quiet laugh of disbelief. “Vince,” you exclaim, not believing he would say that approximately five minutes after talking again for the first time in years. “Not unless you’ve gotten better,” you add, not willing to let the moment slip by without some sort of retaliation.

Vince falters for a moment, suddenly not as confident as he had been just moments before. “It wasn’t good?”

You can’t help but laugh at the question. “It wasn’t bad, it just wasn’t great.” The smile on his face fades and you reach over, playfully hitting his arm. “Relax, Vince. We were teenagers.”

Vince cracks a smile, dramatically swaying as you make contact with him. “So you were watching then?”

“The playoffs?” you question, watching him nod in response. “Yeah, I did. I watch them every year though, don’t get too high on yourself,” you tell him with a teasing tone.

Vince laughs quietly, reaching up and running his fingers through his hair. The way he used to whenever he got nervous. Biting the inside of your lip you watch him, trying to figure out if it was still a nervous habit of his and if you were the cause of it this time.

Suddenly an arm is thrown over Vince’s shoulders accompanied by a loud cheering and a hand coming across and smacking him on the chest. “Fucking champion,” a very inebriated Ryan yells. Ryan had also been on the hockey team with your brother and Vince and even now was never one to pass on a party. “Can’t believe it, man. You won the fucking Stanley Cup. Fucking legend.”

Vince laughs, letting Ryan pull him aggressively into his side. “Hey, Ryan,” he says, not having the same level of alcohol flowing through his system. Vince glances back over at you, as if apologizing for drawing such a drunk Ryan this close.

Giving him a reassuring smile you hop off the tailgate of the truck. “Talk to you later.” Turning around you head towards the bonfire, finding a few of your friends to talk to, leaving Vince to deal with Ryan alone.

A couple hours and a few more drinks pass before you feel the presence of someone standing maybe just a little too close behind you. “Sorry we got interrupted,” Vince says.

“Ryan was pretty excited to see you,” you laugh, turning around to face him.

“He’s so smashed I’m pretty sure he would be excited to see anyone,” Vince chuckles, glancing around quickly. “You want to walk down to the lake?”

Every reason why you shouldn’t, starting with the fact that you were clearly still very much attracted to him, runs through your mind. “Yeah, sure,” you tell him, against your better judgment.

Walking along with Vince you head away from the bonfire, away from everyone else at the party, away from the comfort of knowing there were distractions at the ready if needed. “Is your brother around for the summer?” Vince asks.

“I’m sure he’ll come visit at some point, but he’s pretty busy with his new job,” you reply, walking along beside him at a comfortable pace.

Vince nods, gesturing towards the sand along the edge of the water. “You want to sit?”

Nodding you walk towards the water, sitting down on the last of the dry sand before it begins to get damp with the slow movement of the lake water. Pulling your legs up you rest your arms on your knees, watching the moonlight shimmering off the surface of the lake.

Vince sits beside you, closer than most people would probably sit beside just anyone. His hand lands on the sand behind you, leaning into his arm and gravitating towards you. “Are you here for the whole summer?” Vince asks.

“I’m not sure yet. I graduated this year so I’m still trying to figure out if I want to move back here or move somewhere new, try something different,” you tell him, glancing back up towards the bonfire. “I don’t think I’m the only one cherishing one last summer.”

“You graduated? Didn’t want to tell me that?”

Rolling your eyes you look back at Vince. “That’s not the big news between the two of us.”

Vince is quiet for a moment and you’re so acutely aware of everything happening in the moment that you don’t miss for a second when his eyes look down to your lips. “I want to celebrate you graduating.”

“Vince,” you whisper, his eyes now back on yours. “Vince, I’m not, we can’t do this.”

“Do what?” he asks with a smug smile, wanting you to say it. Wanting you to admit what you were thinking about.

“You’re even cockier now than you used to be,” you mumble, looking back out at the lake, intentionally avoiding looking back at him knowing he was watching you with a smirk on his face.

“I didn’t say anything cocky.”

“Didn’t have to say anything,” you say quietly, reaching over and picking up a pebble off the sand, tossing it into the lake. “It’s that stupid little look. It’s been six years and you’re still doing it. It’s not going to work though, so quit looking at me.”

“If it’s not going to work then why do I have to stop?” Vince counters and you roll your eyes, laughing quietly.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah, probably,” Vince concedes with a shrug.

There’s a couple moments of silence before you glance over at Vince, your eyes taking in his profile as he looks ahead of him at the lake. There had never been a time in your life that you would have been able to say you didn’t find him attractive. But now, underneath the moonlight along the side of this lake you’re not entirely sure you can think of a single person more attractive than he was to you.

Vince turns to look at you, smiling gently. Not a smirk but just a simple smile. “What?”

Sighing you shake your head, this time it being your eyes that glance to his lips. “I can’t tell you what I’m thinking, your ego is too big already,” you tease.

“Now I need to know,” Vince chuckles.

“No, you’ll be a dick about it,” you laugh, looking back out at the lake.

“Alright,” Vince says and you can tell by the tone in his voice that it wasn’t about to be that simple. “Were you thinking about how good I could make you feel? About my lips all over your body? Moaning my name? Begging-”

“Stop,” you giggle cutting him off before he could go any further, playfully shoving him away from you. “I was thinking about how hot you looked, that’s it, slow down.”

“That’s all? That’s disappointing.”

Reaching over hesitantly you slide your fingers down his forearm till your hand is in his, lacing your fingers between his. “You wanted to hear all the things I want you to do to me?”

Vince folds his fingers over your hand, thumb brushing against your skin. “Yes. Tell me.”

You feel warmth creeping across your skin, his focus locked entirely on you. “This is stupid,” you whisper, feeling a sudden wave of insecurity.

Vince lets go of your hand, his fingers moving to your jaw and turning your head to look at him. “Don’t say it then, just show me,” he whispers.

For a moment you don’t do anything, unsure what you should do. Because you know you shouldn’t do anything with him. You should pull back, go back to the bonfire, pretend whatever this moment was that you two were having hadn’t happened. Spend however long he was going to be back in town avoiding him. Because that would be easier, less complicated. But the feeling of his fingers still pressing gently against your face, the slight warmth radiating from his body, the lingering scent of whatever cologne he was wearing, the physical sensations overpower your mental rationality as you move closer. Your lips brush against his gently and you can feel that, at least for now, he’s letting you dictate the pace. He kisses you back the instant you progress beyond grazing his lips with yours. There’s a familiarity to the kiss even after all this time, though there is something different to it now. Whether it was from experience, age, or the fact that the motivating influence in the interaction was primarily physical now.

Allowing you to take the lead dissipates quickly. The kiss becomes quicker, more forceful, lips and tongue and teeth. When Vince pulls back you’re breathing a little heavier, heart beating a little faster. “Come here,” he mutters and his hands are on your waist, all but dragging you over onto his lap as you fumble from sitting beside him to straddling his lap. “That’s better,” Vince says, a smirk on his lips as his hands slide up your thighs to rest on your hips.

Choosing to ignore that comment you lean in, returning to kissing him with the same intensity as a few minutes prior. Though you hadn’t said so the position was better and you become even more aware of that as you slide your hands along his arms and to his shoulders, taking in how toned his muscles felt beneath the fabric of his light t-shirt. As your hands get to his shoulders you feel his fingers slip underneath you shirt, warm hands running along your bare skin.

“Hey, freaks,” a voice yells and it’s distinct enough from the rest of the background noise occurring around you that you immediately pull back from Vince. Your eyes focus over his shoulder on the figure standing a few feet from the fire, facing your direction. “Move further down the beach if you’re going to fuck, nobody wants to see it.”

Laughing nervously you lift your hands off Vince’s shoulders, waiting for him to take his hands out from beneath your shirt before climbing off his lap. “Are we going further down the beach?” Vince chuckles, watching you get to your feet quickly.

“Go ahead, but you’re going alone.”

Vince gets to his feet, brushing the sand from his clothes. “How about we just get out of here altogether instead?” he asks, arm sliding around your waist and pulling you back into him.

Taking a deep breath you try to find it in you to say no, the willpower to deny that he was the only thing you wanted in the moment. “Okay,” you whisper, as if it was less of a bad idea if you didn’t say it too loud. If you were quiet about it then maybe the possible negative outcomes from your decision wouldn’t be too loud either. “But we have to agree on something first.”

“What?” Vince questions, arm already dropped from your waist, his hand in yours instead as he pulls you along with him.

“That this doesn’t mean anything and it’s just going to be a one time thing.”

Vince looks over at you, seeming a little taken aback. “Alright, I can agree to that.”

His words should have reassured you, that you were both on the same page. But they didn’t. Or maybe it was you, that you really weren’t sure if it didn’t mean anything. Either way there was a slight unease about it, something telling you that it wasn’t going to be that simple. But that didn’t stop you as you left with him. And after you left his place that night you had every intention of it being done, had convinced yourself that even though it had been great, you weren’t going to do it again.

But it wasn’t two days later before you were back in his bed. Then the day after that and a couple days later as well. Two weeks of hooking up almost everyday later and your feelings of unease about the initial hookup not being just that had been realized.

“You could spend the night,” Vince suggests one night, propping himself up on his elbow as you had already started to get re-dressed. He had texted you earlier in the evening, asking if you wanted to come over. And of course you said yes because each time you slept with him it became harder and harder to say no. But up till this point you had held fast with your determination to not stay any longer than necessary. Get in, get out.

Pausing with your shorts in your hands you glance back to him. “Why?”

Vince hesitates before laughing quietly and flopping back down onto the bed. “Because you just leave so fucking fast everytime. It might be nice for you to just stay for a bit,” he says and it comes out sounding like a question, uncertainty in his words.

A teasing smile makes its way onto your lips as you drop your shorts back to the floor, crawling onto the bed. “Do you need to be cuddled after sex?” You tease, leaning over and kissing along his jaw as he continues to stare up at the ceiling.. “Want me to hold you till you fall asleep?”

Vince groans and turns his head to look at you. “I just thought you might want to stay, forget it, it doesn’t matter.”

Kneeling beside him on the bed you bite the inside of your lip for a moment in contemplation. A couple moments later you push the blankets back, slipping beneath them and laying down next to Vince.

“You’re so beautiful,” Vince says ever so quietly, the sudden affection making your cheeks flush with warmth.

“What’s your deal tonight?” you ask, turning your head on the pillow to look over at him.

Vince doesn’t say anything for a second but you can tell he’s holding something back. “Am I not allowed to call you beautiful?”

“You can call me whatever you want. You’re just being so affectionate tonight.”

“Do you like it?”

“What?” you laugh. “I don’t know, Vince. I guess so. None of it means anything though so it doesn’t matter.”

“It does mean something,” Vince mumbles, his fingers dancing across your bare thigh, pushing your shirt up as he slides his hand along your waist. “Let’s go on a date.”

Your heart skips a beat, air leaving your lungs not quite as steadily as normal. “What’s the point? How much longer do we even have with this? Before you go back to St. Louis and we don’t see each other again for six years.”

“Can’t we figure that out then? We’ve still got time right now. It’s one date, I’m not asking you to marry me.”

A smile graces your lips as you look over at him. “Okay,” you agree. “One date.”

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