David doesn’t last much longer, comes with Jake shifting beneath him, oversensitive maybe. Jake pulls him into a kiss after, which is David mostly just panting into his mouth until he comes down, and they kiss slow and easy until David starts going soft, has to pull out, tying off the condom before lying down beside Jake.

“High five,” Jake says, after a minute, and David snorts.

“I’m not giving you a high five,” he says, when Jake raises his hand expectantly.

“That was awesome,” Jake says. “And you deserve a high five. Let’s go, David, high five.”

David rolls his eyes, but when Jake doesn’t show any sign of lowering his arm, reaches out and slaps Jake’s palm lightly.

“Good man,” Jake says.

“You’re an idiot,” David says, and it doesn’t come out as anything other than affectionate.

David drags himself out of bed after a few minutes, trying to right himself, wrinkling his nose at the state of his t-shirt, sweaty and filthy, lube and come drying on the hem.

“Borrow one of mine,” Jake says, and David goes to the drawers, finds one for their training camp, no different than David’s, just a size larger. It’s better than taking one branded with the logo of a team he’s never played for, or some plain one that might be one of Jake’s favourites, for all David knows.

He tugs his shirt over his head, replaces it with the near perfect match. When he turns around, Jake’s watching him, still in only a t-shirt, legs spread shamelessly.

“I don’t know how I’ll get this back to you,” David says, uncomfortable.

“Keep it,” Jake says. “We got a bunch. Hell, leave yours here, we can swap.”

David squeezes the shirt in his hands, then goes over to the hamper, puts it inside.

“I need to go back and pack,” he says, still looking into the hamper.

“Yeah,” Jake says. “I figured. C’mere.”

David turns, walks back to the bed, and when Jake reaches out, perches on the edge, he lets himself be drawn into a kiss, bracing his hand on the heat of Jake’s bare thigh.

“Gonna text you,” Jake mumbles when David pulls back. “You better text back.”

“Okay,” David says, tucks a strand of Jake’s hair, fallen into his eyes, behind his ear.

“Walk you to the door?” Jake asks.

“No,” David says. “You’d have to put pants on.”

“Nuh-uh,” Jake says. “Give everyone a show.”

David snorts, pulls back. “I have to go,” he says.

“I know,” Jake says.

“I really have—” David starts.

“I know,” Jake repeats. “Enjoy New York.”

“Enjoy Detroit,” David says sceptically, and Jake laughs, shoves at him.

“Get out of here, Chapman,” Jake says, a smile tucked around the corner of his mouth, and David does.

*

David gets into New York at five the next evening, phone buzzing in his pocket when he waits at baggage claim. home sweet home!, he gets, followed by, u get to nyc safe? :).

Yeah., he sends back, and tucks his phone back into his pocket, keeping his eye out for his suitcase. His phone buzzes again, and he doesn’t pull it out until he’s in the back of a cab, headed to his apartment.