Hey, all! This is my first spn fic. I got the idea watching hockey one night. Enjoy!

"Novak and Winchester battle for the puck against the boards. The Islanders and Rangers are tied at two here with six minutes to go in the third period. Novak finally gets the puck free and gives it off to Streit who pushes it up the ice to Tavares. Tavares to Moulson. Moulson looking for an open teammate. Gives it to Andrew MacDonald in the corner. MacDonald mishandles the pass and it trickles to center ice! Nash is first to it with Tavares right there. Winchester flying down the right side. The Rangers have a two on one now. Nash slides the puck across for Winchester but Tavares tips it away! Gathered up by Moulson on the left side. He crosses center ice and passes to Novak. Novak over the blue line and snaps a shot from the point and SCORES! Castiel Novak has just given the Islanders a 3-2 lead with 3:45 to go in the third."

Dean leaned over, balancing his stick across his thighs as he looked over at Cas, a mixture of pride and anger welling inside him. There wasn't much time left to score one more to put the game into overtime, let alone score two to win. Games like these were always the most important in the regular season; the Rangers and the Islanders were both in the same division, and both called New York their home state. While division rivalries pumped up the other guys, Dean dreaded playing the Islanders. He and Cas would have to battle each other fiercely, sometimes hurting each other in the process.

Dean swung his legs over the wall and plopped down on the bench. "Don't worry, man. Still time for a comeback," one of his teammates said, slapping Dean on the back as the latter squirted water into his mouth.

"Then I wanna see your ass score one," Dean joked. Dean had both of the Rangers' goals that night, but that didn't mean he was done just yet. They both chuckled before turning their full attention to the game in front of them.

Cas couldn't see Dean from where he was sitting, but he knew Dean had that look on his face; the one that said, "Everyone get the fuck out of my way because I am not in the mood for this shit." The one that meant Dean was totally focused on the task at hand, and would barrel through anyone or anything that dared to cross his path.

Dean and his line were sent back in with just under two minutes left. The Rangers pulled their goalie and sent for an extra attacker at the minute mark, and Dean began to get excited. He could feel something big about to happen. After the Rangers inadvertently iced the puck, Cas and his line came out and prepared for the faceoff.

"Just 49 seconds left here at Madison Square Garden with the Rangers trailing 3-2. The Islanders win the faceoff. The puck comes to Novak who is just smashed into the boards by Winchester. Girardi and Moulson battle for the puck before Girardi deals it off to Richards. Richards is stripped at the red line by Carkner, and the buzzer sounds. Islanders win it 3-2 here at Madison Square Garden."

Later that night, Cas and his roommate, Andrew, were just settling into their room when they heard a knock. Andrew grinned when he looked through the peephole and opened the door invitingly. "Hey, Dean!" he greeted. "Great game tonight, man."

"Thanks, you too," Dean replied.

"Nah, man. Mishandled that puck. Johnny had to cover for me."

"Eh, no harm no foul," Dean replied easily. He spotted Cas changing from his post-interview button-up into a black Led Zeppelin t-shirt. Dean smirked as he recognized it as his own. "What's up, man?" he said. "You're the hero of the hour!" Cas laughed and they exchanged a part-handshake, part-hug.

"I'm off to see Olivia," Andrew announced, referring to his girlfriend. "I'm gonna stay at her place, so you can use my bed if you want, Dean."

"Thanks, man. Though I do recall living rather close by."

Andrew chuckled. "Hey, so do we all. But if they're paying for it..."

"Point taken," Dean replied. Andrew laughed and grabbed his bag before shutting the door behind him.

"You can go home, you know," Cas said, turning to Dean as they both sat on the edge of the bed. Dean and Cas shared a house in the Bayville neighborhood of Queens, halfway between Manhattan and Uniondale, where the Islanders played. Cas had been drafted four years ago by the Rangers, and after a year in the minors had been called up to the bigtime. Dean, in his third year with the team, offered his home to Cas as a rookie from Minnesota with nowhere to go. Their relationship evolved and they continued to live together, but when Cas was traded to the Islanders, they decided to move halfway between the two cities.

"Cas," Dean laughed, "why would I go home if you're here?"

"Well, I know how much you hate not sleeping in your own bed."

Dean made a face. "Not as much as I hate sleeping without you." Cas chuckled. "Besides, I hurt you. The least I can do is stay and take care of you," he continued as he pulled the t-shirt over Cas' head. He winced at the large purple bruise that covered almost all of Cas' right shoulder. Dean kissed it and stayed there. "I'm sorry," he said, his lips moving over the wound.

"It's OK, Dean. It's part of the game."

Dean looked up at him. "I never wanna hurt you."

"I know." Their lips met and Cas moved to kneel on the bed. He pulled Dean's shirt over his head and gripped his shoulder, kissing him harder, sucking and biting.

"Cas," Dean moaned. "Oh, Cas, I love you."

"Shh," Cas whispered, mindful of all his teammates in the rooms surrounding them. "I love you too," he added. "Get up."

Dean, his mind filled with images of what they were about to do, obeyed thoughtlessly. "What are you doing?" he asked when he saw Cas crouching down and pulling the bed backwards.

"I'm moving the bed so the headboard doesn't knock against the wall. Now help me."

Dean crouched beside Cas and they pulled the bed out about a foot. As soon as they were satisfied, Dean grabbed Cas by the front of his pants and pulled them together. "Cas, I need you. I need you so bad." Cas moaned and unbuttoned Dean's jeans quickly, yet moved slowly on the zipper, torturing Dean by brushing his knuckles over Dean's cock. Dean bucked his hips. "Cas," he urged.

Cas laughed as they finished undressing. "Hands and knees," Cas commanded as he pushed Dean onto the bed. He reached down to his bag and pulled out the lube he kept in a hidden inside pocket. He squirted some onto his fingers and Dean automatically spread his legs. Cas started with two fingers; they had sex so often that neither of them needed much preparation.

Dean bit his lip and scrunched his eyes tight, pushing back onto Cas' fingers. After about a minute of Dean rocking violently, Cas pushed a third finger in and Dean grunted. "Come on, Cas," he urged. He knew Cas was purposely not crooking his fingers to find his prostate, and it was irritating to no end. He just needed that little bit more and then-"Yes!" he cried as Cas finally, finally hit his spot.

He whimpered as Cas pulled his fingers out and lubed his cock. "Are you ready, Dean?" he asked in that gravelly voice, bending so his chest almost scraped along Dean's back.

Dean let out a short moan. "I could come just from your voice," he admitted.

Cas paused. "Should we test that theory?" he asked wickedly.

"Not now," Dean said, sounding pained. Without warning, Cas shoved forward and Dean just barely made it to biting his pillow before he let out a scream. "Cas, yes, fuck, fuck!" he screamed into the pillowcase.

Cas growled, a feral sound from deep in his chest, and grabbed the headboard for more support. "Dean," he said. "Dean, Dean!" He swallowed before continuing. "Tonight, that play with the puck against the boards, for a second I...I wanted to push back into you." He stopped to let out a short, high-pitched whine. "Sometimes I think about it. About you fucking me on the ice. We'd be so hot and sweaty that the cold wouldn't even matter. It would feel so good."

"Cas. Baby," Dean panted, fisting the sheet beneath him. Cas sat back and pulled Dean down so he was sitting on Cas' lap. Dean went momentarily blind with the onslaught of sensations, and he reached back to grab the back of Cas' neck. Cas placed a delicate kiss on Dean's shoulder, even as he continued to slam into the man above him. His abs rippled as he continuously shoved upwards, his head finally going back in ecstasy as Dean's hand dropped to stroke himself. "Cas. Cas, I have to-. Oh fuck I'm gonna-!"

That was all Cas needed as he came with a startling violence, flopping onto his back. Dean practically howled as he followed, slumping forwards with shoulders hunched. After catching their breath, they laid side by side, Dean moving until he was cuddled against Cas' chest. "You're warm," he said sleepily. "Feels nice."

Cas chuckled, tracing his short fingernails up and down Dean's spine. Dean arched back a little into the touch, making Cas smile. "Goodnight, Dean," he whispered, leaving a lingering kiss in Dean's hair.

"Goodnight, Cas," came the sleepy reply.

The next morning, Dean was being shaken awake vigorously. He moaned and tried to pull the blankets higher. "Dean, come on!" Cas urged. "Andrew is going to be here in twenty minutes. Get dressed." Dean then tried to pull Cas on top of him, but Cas got away. "Dean, we don't have time."

"Well whose fault is that?"

Cas rolled his eyes. "I promise when we get home we'll have all the sex you want, but now you have to get dressed."

"Ugh. Who cares if Andrew finds out?" When they were going to come out was an ongoing question between the two. They knew one day they would, they just couldn't decide when.

"I don't want him finding out by walking in on you fucking me senseless."

"Aw man, you were gonna let me top?!"


Dean huffed and rolled out of bed, pulling on his clothes before he and Cas pushed the bed back to its rightful place. Dean quickly unmade the unused bed and started to roll around in it, trying to make it look like it had been slept in. Dean had just rolled over onto his back when Andrew walked in. "What in the hell are you doing, Dean?" he asked, amused.

"Oh, ha. Just my impression of Sidney Crosby," he lied. Andrew burst out laughing and Cas let out a laugh as well.

"Good one, man. I'll be ready in ten," he added to Cas. Cas nodded and sat on the bed.

"I'm gonna get going, OK, dude?" Dean asked, making sure to keep his distance. He knew if he got any closer or walked to the lobby with them, he'd be all over Cas in a heartbeat, and then the whole city would know they were more than just friends.

"Sure thing. See you at home." He winked and Dean's breath hitched. Dean made a crude jerking off gesture before walking out the door, causing Cas to laugh.

Andrew, who had just stepped out of the bathroom, looked at Cas. "You guys are weird."