Archive of Our Own ^beta

Luka expects silence when he leaves the locker room. Team chemistry is on the up, but Luka’s taken enough hour long showers for his new teammates to pick up on the fact that he wants some time by himself. He gets it every time too. A small upside to having your life suddenly uprooted and becoming the victim of a smear campaign; people will unequivocally do anything you want.

He’s met with silence, but not solitude. Austin is there, leaning against the wall and looking as pitiful and crumpled as his frame will allow. He stares up at Luka as he walks in, and the weight of his gaze nearly makes Luka fall over.

This is not the kind of look Austin usually gives him. He’s usually all heat, pointed intensity that makes Luka’s toes curl in his shoes. Today, Austin’s gaze is vacant, pleading, and a little sad.

Luka gets it. 16 points, 3 rebounds, 3 assists. Not a staggering statline, perfectly fine and becoming of a third option, but nearly all of those points came when it was too late. It would bother him too, especially after a loss by this wide of a margin.

The first time Luka saw Austin like this, it was an accident. Austin had only mustered up 8 points versus a terrible Hornets team, and Luka watched wide eyed as Austin plastered himself over Jarred’s shoulders and back, murmuring into his ear. Luka had cleared his throat to let them know he’s there, and when only Jarred acknowledged him, he knew it was time to get the fuck out of there. 

Whatever Vando did to Austin cured him, because he comes back the very next night with 32 points. He looks lighter, happier, and has a better stretch of games. Until tonight, apparently. 

Luka’s not Vando, though. This kind of desire, this weighted intensity that Austin is pinning him with is so far from normal for them that it stuns him into not moving. Then it occurs to him that Austin’s so in his own head that he doesn't even realize he's looking at Luka like that. It's honestly quite funny, and Luka will make fun of him for it later when Austin rebounds and he's back in his right mind. More than anything, though, it's then that Luka decides that anything Austin wants, he will give him.

Aside from the rest of their series and playoff run seemingly hanging in the balance, Luka will admit to no one but himself that he's a little curious. There's always a little fire, a little competitive edge to Luka that he carries with him off the court, so persistent that no amount of dick or degradation or slaps across the face could put out. Austin’s always so rough with him, and the thought of Luka returning the favor just this once has the corner of his mouth lifting before he realizes that he's gotten carried away. Austin hasn't even said anything yet.

When he does finally start talking, his voice is barely more than a whisper. “You coming with me tonight?”

They do this sometimes, just hang out after games and get to know each other. Rui had insisted, calling it the right thing to do. It feels inappropriate after a loss of this magnitude, but Luka knows a line when he hears one. “Give me a minute,” he says.

Austin’s spine goes ramrod straight, like he was expecting Luka to say no. He watches in silence as Luka collects his things. He’s not paying attention at all; Luka has to physically grab hold of Austin and drag him to his car. 

The drive to Luka’s house is short and quiet, the air between them charged.  Luka is honest to god stunned by Austin’s sudden lack of physicality. He sits in Luka’s car with squared, perfect posture, looking at the same skies and highways he sees every night. It’s so different from how he was with Vando, Luka’s wondered if he’s read this all wrong. 

Above everything, it’s plain as day that Austin is nervous. The longer they sit in silence, he’s probably become more aware of his current mentality and is now too shy to really ask Luka to take care of him. He doesn’t know how to navigate it now that he’s dropped the ball on being needy and flirtatious from the start. Luka figures he’ll have to nudge him into it. Fine by him. Making anything into a game of push and pull is good to him.

They walk into Luka’s apartment in relative silence. He offers Austin a water, which he declines, and they walk to the living room. It’s so, so painfully awkward. Luka thinks briefly about turning on his console just to have some background noise, but he thinks better of it. He falls onto the couch and Austin follows him, a puppy following its owner. That’s a cute visual at least.

They’re sitting for all of three seconds before Luka rips the bandaid off. “Do you want to talk about that game?”

Austin bristles. “Not particularly,” he says, averting his gaze.

Luka gets the message loud and clear, but if he stayed within Austin’s comfort zone he would be failing him. He leans back, spreading his thighs wider, watches Austin’s eyes track the motion before he speaks again. “Do you think we had too much rest and didn’t do enough scrimmage, maybe?”

Austin makes a throaty, frustrated sound. It’s like music to Luka’s ears. “I don’t know,” he says, toying with hair at his nape that Luka knows he thinks has gotten a tad too long. “I don’t want to think about it.”

Luka wills himself not to smile as he makes a pitying, honeyed sound. “You just need to forget, hm?”

It’s a little too easy to drop a line on Austin and make him squirm. He realizes too late that he’s walked into a trap and he blinks slowly, eyes drifting up to Luka’s. He flushes a darling, pretty pink, but his words are honest even if they are quiet. “No, actually. I need to remember,” he coughs, clearly embarrassed to have to verbalize this, “you have to talk me through it.”

The first thing Luka registers is how desperate Austin has to be to admit that out loud. The second thing he registers is how cute it is. “How sweet,” he says, fully genuine, but Austin buries his face in his hands and makes a small sound, and Luka realizes how it could sound demeaning. Austin’s ears are pink so he must like condescension to some degree, and that is fascinating.

“Look at me,” Luka orders. It’s a testament to how gone Austin is that he obeys immediately, hands falling back into his lap with a quiet pat sound.

Luka turns his body to face Austin, shifting his hips to minimize the gap between them. He can see the exact moment Austin becomes aware of their size difference, his pupils widening as he bites the inside of his lip. He doesn’t move so Luka pushes it, daring to close the gap between them even more. He brings a hand to Austin’s arm, gentle, as if not to scare him. He trails his fingers down the contour of his tricep and up again, and is immediately amused to feel Austin flex. So far so good.

He grabs the front of Austin’s hoodie and tugs a little. Austin’s whole body pitches forward, clearly not expecting the contact, and his hand shoots out to stabilize himself on Luka’s thigh. Luka makes himself stay completely still, but Austin’s fingers dig into the muscle anyway, almost like he can’t help himself. He probably can’t, if the muted whine that escapes him is any indication. 

That little helpless mewl, in addition to the heat searing through Austin’s palms and into Luka’s skin, briefly renders Luka speechless. He has a sudden, maniacal urge to flatten Austin into this couch and fuck him brainless, but he can't. Not yet. Austin needs that little extra push before his eyes glaze over and he really loses control of himself.

“You can stop me if you want,” Luka says. He releases the grip he has on Austin’s hoodie, flattening his hand over the wrinkles he created. Austin arches into the touch a little, panting quietly. He’s perfect.

“Don’t want to,” he says, voice quiet. Austin’s skin is sticky with sweat as Luka drags his hand up to Austin’s neck, thumbs along his jaw, and Austin keens. “Please,” he says, breathless. 

Luka shushes him with a finger to his lips, but his heart goes still in his chest when Austin tips his head and sucks the digit into his mouth. It’s definitely not comfortable, Luka can feel his fingernail scrape the roof of Austin’s mouth, but he sucks harder, cheeks drawing in. Austin’s eyes turn wide, wet, and Luka is stunned by how suddenly trapped he feels. He’s the one who feels like prey despite Austin being the one who is so desperate to be taken. 

Austin whines at Luka’s inaction, reaching up to guide another one of Luka’s fingers into his own mouth. Luka allows his hand to be turned so his fingertips lay flat on Austin’s tongue, and he watches in awe as Austin slides himself down, taking the fingers deeper.

Fuck. “Fuck,” Luka says out loud, pulling his hand free from Austin’s mouth and grip. He’s not going to last at all if he has to sit here and watch Austin deepthroat his fingers. Austin makes a broken little noise as Luka stands, hands desperately grabbing for whatever part of Luka he can reach.

Luka’s kind of forgotten how vulnerable Austin is right now. “Shh, baby, come on,” he says, soothing, hands automatically going to pet over Austin’s hair. “Come on, I can’t fuck you on the couch, we have to go to the bed.”

The promise of going to bed together finally gets Austin to crack a small, victorious smile. He stands, draping himself over Luka’s shoulders in a loose hug. Luka returns it as best he can from this position, already feeling bad for what he’s about to do. When Austin leans into him, aiming to push them forward, Luka gets a hand on top of Austin’s head and pushes hard. Austin goes crashing to the ground, and he turns his confused eyes to Luka.

“No,” Luka says. “Crawl.”

Austin looks like Luka’s just said something ridiculous. Maybe he has. “Luka?”

“Crawl,” Luka repeats, taking a step away. Austin stays put where he is, his hands hovering in the air where they were just gripping Luka’s sweatpants. He’s so obedient, but he’s still staring blankly, like he’s still weighing the merits of the kind of humiliation he’s being faced with. Luka has to put the hammer down.

He kneels until he’s face to face with Austin again. He cups Austin’s face and leans in for a feather light kiss. Austin accepts it readily, leaning forward and tilting his head to meet him halfway. It’s barely more than a press of lips but he chases Luka’s mouth when he pulls away. Austin’s so unbelievably sweet like this that it makes Luka's stomach turn.

He keeps cradling Austin’s face as he talks. “You crawl to me, or you don’t get fucked.”

There’s a brief flash of desire over Austin’s features before desperation takes its place. He can’t even hide that he likes it. Luka’s so endeared.

He starts walking to his bedroom, and Austin is on his tail immediately, the faint sound of knees on the floor spurring Luka onward. It’s an insane confidence boost, having someone as usually nonchalant and headstrong as Austin crawling on his hands and knees just for Luka’s dick. They should do this more often, under less unfortunate circumstances.

Luka’s temporary apartment isn’t very big and Austin doesn’t have to crawl far, but Luka realizes a little belatedly that extraneous knee strain probably isn’t a great idea going forward in the playoffs. When he reaches his bed and turns around though, all concerns go out the window. Austin is right there in front of him, not even a wisp of a thought behind his eyes. His hoodie conceals the wiry muscles of his arms, but the little curve of his ass is visible over his shoulder. If that didn’t make Luka’s mouth water enough, Austin sits back on his haunches and Luka’s eyes immediately zero in on how Austin’s dick is tenting his shorts.

“Good dog,” Luka says, before he can really think about whether it's a good idea or not. Austin whimpers behind his closed lips, fingers twitching where they sit on top of his thighs, not daring to move. Still so disciplined, even in his obvious want. Luka can’t take it. “Fucking come here,” he says, hauling Austin up and onto his lap.

Austin immediately looks disappointed with being on top, but he moans quietly when Luka dives into his neck, kissing and sucking over what little exposed skin there is available. “Take this fucking shit off,” Luka demands, tearing Austin’s hoodie and shirt clean off him, both of them coming off in one move. His shorts are next, after Luka flips them over and Austin’s back bounces off the bed from the force. Austin lets himself be manhandled, his eyes dazed and unfocused. Luka doesn’t even mind the general quietness, but he doesn’t miss the chance to poke at Austin about it.

“So silent, baby,” Luka says as he takes his own clothes off. “Did I push you that far?”

It’s a joke, mostly. Austin’s voice is scratchy from lack of use. “Didn’t know if I was allowed.”

Luka finds himself wondering what in God’s name Vando does to Austin when they’re together. “I don’t know,” he teases, his hands finding the inside of Austin’s thighs and pushing them apart. “I think you got all worked up and you need me to get you out of that little head of yours.”

Austin’s only response to that is a moan, a breathy little thing that pitches into something louder when Luka presses the pad of his thumb over Austin’s hole. It’s only meant to be a ghost of a touch, something to hold him over while he rummages around for lube, but Austin’s hips shift, trying to entice him. “Please,” he whines.

“You want it like this?” Luka asks. He bends the first joint of his thumb, presses it against the entrance more insistently. Austin’s back arches beautifully, the yesyesyes that spills from his mouth more air than voice. 

Luka makes an executive decision then and there. He leans down and spits a mouthful of saliva onto where his thumb and Austin’s body meet. It only takes a little push for his thumb to slide into Austin’s ass, hugging it tightly. Austin wails, wholly unprepared, and Luka has to deploy his other hand to press Austin down into the mattress and calm his thrashing. 

He leans up to look Austin in the eyes, needing to be clear about what he’s willing to do. “I’ll be real with you, baby. There’s no way I’m fucking you without lube.” He expects the weak protest from Austin, but he shuts him up with a quick stroke over his insides. “The most you’re getting out of me is no prep.”

“No condom either,” Austin requests, and, well. The thought of a condom hadn’t even crossed Luka’s mind. He’s almost as bad as Austin is. Both of these requests are irresponsible, but if Austin thinks he needs it, then who is Luka to say no?

“No condom,” Luka agrees. He gently pulls his thumb out of Austin and grabs hold of his hip, flipping him over onto his stomach. Austin doesn’t argue the position, which Luka finds a little funny. He slots one of his pillows under Austin’s hips to keep them in a semi-raised position, turning to dig in his bedside table for his mostly untouched bottle of lube. When he turns back, Austin has raised his hips up higher, forcing his back into a deeper arch and letting his dick rest gently on the pillow instead.

Luka can’t help but stroke himself to the sight of Austin so open and ready for him. He swears to himself, tapping the wet head of his dick against Austin’s hole. He wants to tease a bit more, but he’s half delirious himself. He knows he’s not going to last, and when he pushes into Austin, deathly slow but in one unbroken motion, he confirms this.

Underneath him, Austin trembles like he’s never been fucked before, but he takes Luka’s dick beautifully. His hole opens right up for him and so do his vocal chords, a pitiful cry breaking into the air as he’s filled. Luka’s not much better off, his eyes falling shut as he takes in the feeling of tight heat suddenly enveloping him. Austin’s clenched down on him tight, but Luka still tries to move. It’s the wrong decision. He hasn’t topped in so long. Luka’s orgasm crawls up his throat so quickly it makes him dizzy, and he immediately stills to save himself from the embarrassment.

That preliminary thrust fucked a little squeak out of Austin, but after Luka stops, he makes an impatient noise. He starts to fuck himself back on Luka’s dick, and that, shamefully, awakens a little bit of Luka’s competitive spirit. If they’re going to have a quick-orgasm-off, Luka is going to win. He already knows what buttons to push, as Austin has handed them over on a silver platter.

He gets a firm, bruising grip on Austin’s hips, and pulls him back to sheath his entire dick inside. Without preamble, Luka starts to snap his hips forward as he yanks Austin back again and again, meeting him in the middle. Austin is lost to it almost immediately; not even sloppy wet sounds of too much lube is enough to drown out the sound of Austin’s near constant stream of moans. Luka changes his position a bit to be more comfortable to his own bad knees, and the change in angle draws a noise out of Austin that can only be described as halfway between a scream and a sob. It feels too good, too right to tear into Austin like this, and he’s barely even started.

“What's wrong with you, hm?” Luka asks. He doesn't really expect an answer, but he can hear Austin’s vocal chords straining to form something other than moans, so he leans closer. He drapes himself over Austin’s back and presses himself in further.

His mouth is right up against Austin’s ear. “What? Nothing to say for yourself? Only thing you were good for today was taking my dick?”

That makes Austin stir, back curving to make eye contact. Luka is satisfied to see his eyelashes damp. “No, Luka, I was trying, I swear, fuck--” he cuts himself off to choke on a whine when Luka thrusts in particularly hard, “I swear, the shots just weren't landing.”

The teasing edge bleeds back into Luka’s tone easily now. “Mine were.”

He props one leg up on the bed so he can dig into Austin deeper and really make a point. “My shots were landing because I’m a professional athlete. Yours weren't because you are a cocksleeve.”

Austin sobs into the sheets, but Luka barrels over him like he hadn't heard. “I shouldn't even be touching you. You're lucky I’m even fucking you after that lack of effort.”

Austin’s eyes fly open. “No!” he cries, clenching so tight around Luka it feels like the circulation to his dick is being cut off. “No, just…keep fucking me. Please.”

It shouldn't be so satisfying to hear. When Austin’s like this, he's too easy to pester, to rile up. Luka takes advantage of that, slowing to a stop, his smile too toothy to be anything but predatory. “Why should I do that?”

The sound Austin makes is almost inhuman. He turns back again, and Luka is fully expecting more puppy eyes and incoherent whining, but Austin sounds the most put together he has all night. “Please, Luka, I know you're mad at me. Need you to take your frustration out on me.”

Luka wants to contest that, say that it's a team game and they win and lose together, but it's Austin's turn to talk over him and start babbling. “Will you keep fucking me if I admit I’m a cocksleeve? I love getting fucked, I’m only good at taking dick, but I only want it from you.”

Luka has never had such words aimed at him, but they're sweet to his ears either way. “You mean that, baby?” he asks.

Austin doesn’t get to answer. Luka reaches over him and shoves his head into the mattress, cutting off any chance he had to speak. He whimpers, muted, and Luka chases his orgasm into Austin’s body, drilling him in earnest. A few firm thrusts  straight to Austin’s prostate finally gets the tears rolling down his face and dampening the bed, but it’s no deterrent to Luka at all. If anything he fucks Austin crueller, meaner.

He ignores it when Austin comes untouched, come splattering the pillow. Luka’s pace stays the same, but Austin doesn’t protest. He shifts his hips back weakly and clenches as much as he can. Luka is helpless to sensation, and he leans down to bite into the muscle of Austin’s shoulder as he comes, emptying himself into Austin’s body.

Luka knows how the rest of this is supposed to go. They’re supposed to lay for a minute and catch their breath together, then Luka is supposed to go get a cloth and wipe Austin down before gingerly guiding him into the bathroom for a shower. He’s done this before. He’s been on the other side of it, but he’s done it.

Austin is full of surprises. Luka collapses on top of him, and Austin reaches up to pet Luka this time. “Come on, get up.”

It throws Luka for a loop. “What?”

“Get up,” Austin repeats. “I have to get that out of me. We have practice tomorrow. JJ’s already pissed at me but he’s gonna be even more annoyed if I show up and can’t walk.”

Leave it to Austin to get fucked into a crystal clear state of mind. Luka cringes at hearing their coach's name while he’s still balls deep inside Austin, but there’s something he just said that needs addressing. “Baby,” Luka starts.

“I’m awake now,” Austin cuts him off. “You don’t have to…”

“I want to,” Luka argues. “You’re my baby until my dick and my come are both fully out of you.” 

Austin doesn’t seem to have a response to that. He must sense that whatever Luka wants to say is important, so he turns his head to look at him, eyes glittering. The sudden desire to kiss him is like a javelin to Luka’s chest, but he pushes that down. Austin’s awake, after all.

“Nobody is mad at you,” Luka says. “Not coach, not the fans, and not me. It’s one game out of seven, and you got into your rhythm later. It’s all about momentum.”

The redness that takes over Austin’s ears is endearing. “Thanks, Luka.”

He’s so cute. Luka pours it on some more. “We don’t even get to where we are without you.”

Austin smothers his smile into his hand. “That’s enough.” 

He pulls away from Luka, and Luka is treated to the sight of his come spilling out of him and onto the bed. His dick is soft now, but that image dares Luka to chub up again. “Christ,” he says.

Austin pays him no mind, sitting up and effectively cutting off Luka’s view. He looks down at Luka, tilting his head playfully. “You’re going to have to actually use your fingers to get that out of me, you know.”

Fucked out, needy, pathetic Austin is beautiful, but it’s nice to see him looking like himself. Luka cracks a smile. “Try not to beg for my dick instead this time, okay?”

When the shove Austin levies at Luka barely moves him, he sucks his teeth and moves to stand. When he gets two feet down and collapses to the floor three steps in, Luka laughs at him. When Austin finally reaches the bathroom and beckons for Luka, he follows.