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Jere could make whatever kind of content he wanted with whoever he wanted, as long as he sent it to Bojan for approval first before it went online. That was the deal.
That had been the deal since even before the advent calendar, when “OnlyFans” was just a joke and Jere was teasing music video content with Tommy Cash.
“Bojan must see this!” Jere had been so giddy, half-naked behind the shower curtain with his new playperson, desperate to share his fun. Tommy had questioned it at first (surely Jere and Bojan weren’t actually together like the press liked to hint?) but Jere hadn’t been apologising to Bojan or reassuring him or checking boundaries; he had been enthusiastically sharing. And Bojan had asked for more.
Häärijä had known the deal from the start. Even with all this distance between them and no guarantee of when they would see each other next, he knew that Bojan would be an integral part (Jere’s favourite part, he suspected) of the making of the calendar. Every scene they did, Jere would disappear immediately afterwards to show his Bojan; to make sure Bojan would be the first person to enjoy the bare cheeks and the moaning audio and the suggestive positioning.
And the stuff that not even Jere was brave enough to make public, the stuff that Jere and Häärijä would work on together alone after Mikke and Jukka had finished filming for the day.
So when Pekka Rinne mentioned an interest in getting in on the deal, Jere had to be very clear about the terms and conditions of the arrangement.
It was very important that the rest of the band were out for the night. They had already had to reschedule once when the guys had bailed on the pub quiz and Bojan couldn’t get any reliable alone time, and tonight he was certain it would be safe.
“Can you text me when you’re on your way back?” Bojan had tried to sound casual, keeping his voice low.
“Why? Oh,” Kris caught on. “You’re having Jere-time tonight?”
Bojan: Don’t start without me x
Bojan texted as soon as the apartment door was locked, four sets of footsteps heading down the stairs and out of the building. He wanted to make himself comfortable for this – it was kind of a big deal. For months now, he had enjoyed photos and videos from his Jere whenever he had been working on one of his projects and the ones from the last couple of weeks were particularly exciting due to who he was playing with.
But tonight was special.
Tonight was the first time he would be watching live.
Jere: Too late 🔥🔥
Jere sent a photo.
Bojan’s thumb shot to open it and he was immediately assaulted by the slightly motion-blurred image of Jere craning his head back to allow Pekka’s outstretched tongue access to his neck. Jere was making his pleasure-face, open-mouthed grin and softly closed eyes, while Pekka was making aggressive eye-contact with the camera.
Fuck.
He stopped in his tracks a moment, taking in the scene. The collar of Jere’s shirt was visible; they were just warming up, waiting for him. Teasing.
Bojan wriggled his pants off and swapped his t-shirt for Jere’s jersey (which he kept hidden under the bed to avoid inappropriate comments from the guys). In just this and his boxers, he climbed under the covers in front of his laptop and was ready to play.
Calling Jere Pöyhönen...
…
…
“Bojan!” Jere’s voice came tinny through the laptop speakers.
“Hey, Jere,” he replied, the image of his own face glowing from the corner of the screen. “Hey, Pekka.”
“Bojan,” Pekka said. “I wanted to thank you for letting me play with this sassy little piece of meat.”
Maybe it was how he always associated it with Jere but something about the Finnish accent was so sexy. Through the grainy image, Bojan could see Jere’s shirt move as the goal-keepers hands slid underneath it, caressing Jere’s torso while he positioned the camera.
“Stop it, Pekka,” Jere barked, in bratty faux-aggression. “Bojan is here. He is most important.”
“And his dick’s gonna go soft if you keep making him wait.”
This was so different to what they had done before. Bojan always loved hearing Jere describe the antics he got up to, either during a call (with Jere setting the scene by recreating all the sound effects), in message form (Bojan trying to keep a straight face as he read them while going about his day, praying no one could look over his shoulder or read his mind) or in pictures and video clips (which he’d keep saved in a secret folder and go back to again and again).
He loved to see Jere’s pleasure, to know he was being treated well and kept satisfied, and it gave him no end of a buzz to know that Jere was thinking about him the whole time, always eager to share with him.
But this… to see another man’s hands on him in real-time, to experience every little involuntary gasp and twitch as Pekka roamed his body…
“Hope you don’t mind we started warming up already.”
Bojan could see exactly how warmed up Pekka was. The pair were on Jere’s bed, the image made all the more vivid by Bojan’s memories of having been right in that spot himself once upon a time, with the camera positioned on the side table. Pekka was knelt slightly to the side and just behind Jere, grinning over his shoulder, the outline of his sizeable erection pressing against his pants clearly visible even in low definition.
“I couldn’t help it,” Pekka went one, his lips raking against the back of Jere’s neck. “Look at him. So fucking gorgeous.”
Bojan was looking. Jere’s lips were flamingo-pink in the way they always were after making out and his black hair was scruffed up, his fair roots just showing through. A strong light source from somewhere glinted off his piercings and the body that Bojan knew very well was tanned and solid was currently drowned in an oversized shirt, making him appear even smaller and more edible than ever next to the large, athletic musculature of Pekka’s frame.
From the fragments of their play that Bojan had already seen, he was about to see Jere ruined.
“I know, right? Eye candy to make your mouth water.”
“You are such a lucky man, Bojan. If this was mine, I’d be on this ass like five times a day.”
“You boys embarrass me!” Jere giggled. He was so fucking cute.
“Red-faced already, Jere?” Bojan teased, getting comfortable. He didn’t normally get chance to participate in Jere’s sessions this way, but it was an easy enough transition to make. “And he’s barely even touched you.”
“Should I touch him a little more?”
There was no point wasting time. Everyone knew what they were all here for.
Pekka put his hand into Jere’s sweatpants and Bojan watched Jere fall back against him as he moaned, letting this older man hold up his weight. He could see Pekka’s hand begin to move rhythmically underneath the fabric as his stroked him and Bojan – in bed hundreds of miles away – shuffled to do the same to himself, his right hand slipping underneath his boxers.
He cleared his throat, feeling his heart rate increase as the men on screen began to undress each other. Pekka lifting Jere’s shirt up over his head, and then his own. Jere peeling down his own sweatpants with a seductive wiggle at Pekka’s instruction. And Bojan’s own face looking up at him like a pervert from the corner. That was ruining the mood somewhat. He closed it.
Bojan’s eyes skimmed over Jere’s body, reminding himself of every curve and detail. Pekka was clearly enjoying the view himself, his face so close to Jere’s crotch as he edged his boxers down that he could have done it with his teeth.
The tan-line was comically obvious, his skin Thai-golden across the plumpness of his bitable belly and hips, then Finland-pale leading down to the edge of his pubes and that freckle that Bojan had fallen in love with almost as suddenly as he had fallen in love with Jere himself.
When Jere’s underwear where bunched around his thighs, Pekka placed a hand on the back of Jere’s neck and pushed him down onto all fours. This was the dominance that Bojan loved to see, so big that he could easily manhandle his precious little Jere, while still trusting him to indulge him in all of his needs. Jere was on his elbows, staring dreamily into the camera while Pekka disappeared somewhere in the background.
“How was your day?” Jere asked him, as casual as if this was any other phone call.
“Good, thanks. Song writing is going well and Jan made us the most amazing breakfast with bacon and avocados.”
In the background of the shot, Pekka reappeared. Bojan watched him smooth his hands over Jere’s bare backside.
“I love breakfast. Oh!” Pekka dipped his head to be obscured behind Jere’s butt and it took Jere a second to regain his composure. “Which song are you working on?”
“The one I sent you yesterday.” Jere’s face was contorting slightly as he listened. “And we’ve also made progress on one of the pieces from December, the one we thought we were going to have to shelve.”
“That’s great, Bojan. I-” he gasped. “I’m so proud of you.”
“How about you, Jerč? How’s your day going?”
Bojan could see exactly how Jere’s day was going, butt-naked on all fours, getting his ass-eaten by a hockeystar while on video-chat to his Bojan.
“Good,” he breathed, adding a few extra syllables to the word. “We go to- ah! Me and Jesse, we go- We-”
Bojan loved watching him struggle. He stroked at himself languidly, watching Jere wet his lips with his tongue, letting his head hang for a moment before throwing it back as his body attempted to deal with the sensations that were happening to it.
“Where did you go today, Jere?” Bojan pushed. His arousal was obvious in his hand but not enough to make his voice crack. “I didn’t quite catch that.”
Jere’s eyes found the camera but he only managed a single word before Pekka’s hand reached around for Jere’s dick and made him moan, his eyes losing focus into the pleasure-face that Bojan loved.
Jere called Pekka’s name, visibly pushing his hips back against his partner’s tongue and Bojan’s balls tightened. He needed to slow down. His hand stilled, desperate not to have too much fun too soon, desperate to savour this. His right hand gripped around the base of his erection. His left hand took a screenshot.
“He’s so sensitive,” Pekka’s voice was further away from the mic but clearly raised, targetted at Bojan. He lifted his head away from Jere’s ass and Bojan could see wetness glistening around his mouth in the same bright light that made Jere’s piercings shine. “Just begging for some cock in him. What’s the matter, Jere?” He turned his attentions to the naked man beneath him. “Your man not feeding you enough?”
Something shivered like ice through Bojan’s core, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. He could feel the skin of his arms prickling and wondered if he had ever been harder in his life.
Through the screen, he watched Pekka pull Jere’s boxers all the way off and reposition him. The camera jostled and soon, Bojan was looking at the side of Jere’s face. He was facing Pekka’s crotch, the front of his trousers straining.
Bojan already knew that Pekka was big. Jere had insinuated it from the day after their hockey game and the proof had been there from the first photoset that Bojan had been blessed with, fresh from their OnlyFans set. He also knew that Jere loved the challenge of it, as though taking something this big was something he could win at.
Still, when Pekke took his cock out of his pants and pushed the head of his erection against Jere’s cheek, the visual of it made his mouth run dry.
“Show him how much you’ve been practising.”
All at once, there was a fist in Jere’s hair pulling his head back, forcing his jaw to hang open. Bojan had a moment of fear for his Jere’s well-being until Jere’s tongue thrust itself from his mouth, hungry and eager. How he missed Jere’s tongue. It deserved all the cock in the world.
Pekka didn’t ease him in gently, only dragging his tip of his dick over Jere’s tongue and lips a few times before pushing himself into his mouth.
There was something about seeing nude, teased, sensitive Jere being used like this by someone twice his size and still half clothed that stoked the fire in Bojan’s gut. It was the vulnerability, the trust, the hope.
Jere was doing brilliantly.
Pekka was grunting animalistically and the back of Jere’s throat was making a lewd, wet, choking sound as Pekka’s cock forced into him again and again. Bojan shut his eyes for a moment to appreciate the noise.
He opened them when the rhythm changed. Pekka was pushing past the back of Jere’s throat, using his fist to force his head down. It was making him gag and Bojan could see from this side profile how his throat stretched each time.
By the time Pekka pulled away – audibly close to his orgasm - Jere’s face was red, his eyes watering and thick ropes of spit dribbling from his mouth. He wasn’t wearing his stage make up which was a shame. Maybe Bojan would request it for next time.
Pekka’s face flashed up close to the screen as he bent over to speak directly to Bojan. His eyes were dark, his mouth hungry. A handsome man by all accounts.
“You’ll enjoy this.”
The camera jostled again. Jere was turned around on his knees so his sweet little ass was facing the camera, his balls tight. Pekka spread his cheeks a little for Bojan to see and Jere was writhing his hips in the way he always did when he was desperate to be fucked. Bojan’s cock remembered that wiggle, the way Jere would bury his face in his hands waiting for attention, his little asshole clenching in anticipation.
He was stroking himself fast again, remembering what it felt like to grip his fingers into the hairy backs of Jere’s thighs, when Pekka returned to the camera, fully nude now with his balls hanging free. His dick was already slippery-sweet and in a moment Jere’s ass was too, Pekka’s fingers playing in and around his little pink hole. Anyone would think it looked far too tight and innocent to take on something like Pekka’s cock.
But those people didn’t know Jere like Bojan did.
Pekka gave his veiny cock a couple of strokes with a big, rough hand as he lined himself up.
“Say ‘please’.”
Jere did.
And again, and again, between some of the most obscene moans Bojan had ever heard come from him as Pekka’s cock pushed into him, disappearing little by little, shallow at first and then more and more and more and more.
The movement paused as Bojan saw Pekka’s body stretch as he reached for more lube, but by the time he turned back to what his was doing...
“Oh.” There was an amused tone in the hockey player’s voice. He gave an evil-sounding laugh as his own hips were still while Jere was pushing himself back onto Pekka’s cock over and over, fucking himself.
Pekka picked up the camera and Bojan had a blurred, sweeping view of Jere’s room for a fraction of a second before the monitor was filled with Pekka’s perspective of what was happening. The shot was looking down at Pekka’s cock filling Jere’s ass, Jere resting on his elbows in the way Bojan knew so well. His back was covered in sweat that Bojan could almost taste, and the freckles that Bojan had mapped so many times he could draw them in his sleep, all on the ruined bedsheets and creaky mattress that Bojan knew smelled of sex and of Jere (and wasn’t that the same thing, really?) and Bojan swore he could feel the heat of Jere’s body around his own cock as he fucked into his own fist.
Screenshot.
Bojan watched Pekka drizzle lube onto his dick and Jere’s movements sped up instantly and his body drank it in.
Screenshot.
The bottle was cast to the mattress and Pekka used his now-free hand to smack Jere’s ass, almost hard enough to leave a red imprint.
Screenshot.
Smack.
Screenshot.
“Sorry, man.” Pekka’s voice was strained with his arousal as the camera moved again and Bojan found himself watching from the side again. “Need my hands.”
No longer worried about filming, Pekka returned to gripping at the meat of Jere’s hips. He was fucking him fast now, the slapping of skin against skin loud through the speakers, and pushing Jere’s face down into the pillow, just off-screen. His ass cheeks were red now and Bojan kept getting a flash of Jere’s hard little dick every time Pekka slammed himself in to him.
Pekka’s words were slurred and distorted through the speakers but he said something that might have been “I’m gonna fill your man with cum”. His hands were out of shot but Bojan could see the veins in his forearms throb with tension is he gripped maybe into Jere’s hair, maybe around his neck.
And then Pekka’s hips were jarring and his breath came out as a ragged moan.
He pulled away and it took a breath for his panting to break into a grin. Even overcome with his orgasm, he was strong enough (or Jere was already ruined enough) to pull Jere’s hips towards the camera.
“I wish I could taste this every day, Bojan,” he said. Jere was still gaping, clenching (screenshot), dripping lube and cum and Pekka was playing his fingers into the mess (screenshot), smearing it across Jere’s skin. “If you ever get bored of him, he’s mine.”
The fire in Bojan’s gut roared. Because the truth was that he would never not be in love with Jere Pöyhönen. And he didn't have to say it in words; Jere knew. Whether Jere would get bored of him was a different matter, but that wasn't a bridge they had to cross (hopefully) any time soon. All that mattered was right now, this moment. They were making it work.
Jere’s face came in to view. He eyes were wet and heavy-lidded, red lines across his skin from the creases in the pillow.
“You still having fun, Jerč?”
Jere didn’t seem able to form words but nodded enthusiastically.
Pekka moved behind him and pulled him into his lap, letting him lean back against his chest and reached around to give Jere’s dick the attention it had been waiting for all night. Slow at first, soft, teasing, while Bojan had the best view in the world of Jere’s ravaged body, his legs spread, his face blissful, reaching his arms up (those biceps, that armpit hair – screenshot) to stroke any part of Pekka’s face he could reach.
Jere looked so warm and safe against Pekka’s chest, Pekka kissing at his ear, yet so profoundly exposed, his body and his pleasure on show for Bojan’s amusement.
Bojan matched Pekka’s movements on his own erection, hot and hard and so, so ready, trying to wait. He sped up when Pekka did, the increase in pitch of Jere’s moans making his cock throb wildly in his hand, the power building in Bojan’s hips as his body got closer and closer to losing control. He was salivating, the bedsheets hot against his skin, his mind completely immersed in the scene in front of him.
Pekka must have felt the change before Bojan could see it, the grin spreading across his face just before Jere’s eyes shot wide. His mouth opened and he jerked, the muscles of his core clearly no longer under his control and Pekka’s arm pinned around his chest to hold him close as he was about to cum, nowhere left to go but over the edge.
Jere reached a hand towards the camera and focused his gaze.
“Bojan…”
The flames of Bojan’s orgasm licked over neck to toe, emptying himself hot and sticky across the covers, doing everything he could not to roll his head back and lose himself, not to miss a single second of watching Jere’s dick pulse, spurting cum all up his body and all over Pekka’s big hand as he milked his release from him. Bojan’s head swam with the sudden weightlessness as euphoria pulsed through his body.
“Bojan.” His name again, softer this time, as Jere was beginning to regain control of his lungs.
Bojan was still panting, aching and sensitive everywhere, watching Jere’s giggle return and Pekka smooched kisses against his neck.
Screenshot.
“Nice to meet you, Bojan,” Pekka said casually, just as they were about the end the call. The pair had covered their nakedness with a duvet and Bojan was hydrating, the cool water an elixir down his throat.
“You too, Pekka,” he said, putting his water back on the side table. “See you next time.”
Jere promised to call him in an hour or so when they were both showered and Pekka had gone home.
“You can have him stay the night if you want,” Bojan had offered. “You know I don’t mind.”
“No, no, no,” Jere had pouted, Pekka shrugging in the background. “Tonight is special. I want to be with you.”
But now the call was ended and suddenly Bojan was alone and hundreds of miles away and the band would be back in a few hours. He needed a shower and to change the sheets (he didn’t care what Kris would think – let them joke and tease as much as they wanted).
It might have been a lonely moment, if it was anyone else. But Jere's love was still warm in his veins and no matter how many miles were between them, that would always be the case.
He was just about to jump in the shower when his phone buzzed.
Jere: 💚❤️
Bojan: ❤️💚