Sunday Night - Roger's Room at Lammas Park - A Heated Confrontation
Roger brooded all day, thinking back over the last weeks since he'd met the real Adrian. The real one, not the cardboard cut out from his Hogwarts days. The one who said he wanted him and then turned cold and unfeeling and so damned close-mouthed about everything. Every time Roger tried to get close, tried to understand, Adrian shut him out. He
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But Roger's voice cut through his resolve and made him look anyway, their eyes locking. And once more Adrian knew exactly what was in his eyes, the pain and the pleasure and the longing and the... love, and yet he was unable to keep it out. He could only hope Roger didn't see it, hope that Roger would lose himself before he realised what he was seeing.
He reached up, one hand cupping Roger's face, soft parted lips against the pad of his thumb. Finally he spoke, a breathy whisper "Come for me, Roger..." he wanted it so badly as he strained to move with Roger, move into those hands.
*
Does he?
Could he?
For a moment it seemed so real, Roger felt so connected with Adrian, like they were together and everything made sense. He understood how silly he was being, pushing Adrian away while drawing him closer. Hurting him when all he really wanted to do was love him.
But then that moment was gone and Roger came, a silent scream contorting his face, the intensity of orgasm, straddling Adrian, spewing right on Adrian's stomach, marking him ... while being marked by him. He'd come on command after all.
But it wasn't real. Adrian was just a sexy man who loved sex ... with anyone. He didn't find Roger special. And until he did, Roger really wasn't interested.
Right, Roger? Right? You're not interested at all. It means nothing that you'd open a vein to see that look in his eyes. That you're even now plotting how to catch him unawares when he wakes in your arms in the morning.
"Striking," he whispered before letting himself go limp and crashing down onto Adrian's chest.
*
Adrian moaned low in his throat when he felt Roger's cock grow and pulse against his own, Roger's grip so fucking good and tight and just right. When Roger came, Adrian for long moments forgot his own pleasure, his thoughts, mesmerized by Roger's, his expression, the feeling of come on his belly, the soft words.
He was panting for breath when the strong sensations in his own body finally caught up with his mind, washing over him hotly and urgently as Roger collapsed on him. Roger's hands were still on him, on them, and Adrian bucked into them, moaning and murmuring almost incoherent words of pleasure, mixed with Roger's name, against Roger's cheek. His hands moving down to cup Roger's arse, fingers digging into the firm buttocks, pulling him closer, needing him closer as Adrian rocked their cocks together, closer and closer to his own climax.
Finally it crashed over him and he let out a low shuddery groan as he came, his hands sliding up over Roger's back to hold the man close. Adrian clenched his eyes shut again as he tried to regain his breath, regain his composure and deny his thoughts. They weren't there and he wouldn't listen to them. Only this was real, Roger in his arms, Roger's name whispered on his lips....
He didn't need his thoughts.
*
When Adrian gathered him close and held him tight, and came in his hands ... it was like another orgasm for himself, a shadow orgasm.
"Oh Adrian," he whispered.
Gods, my name, the way he says it. Oh god! his mind wailed, believing that it was true, it was all true. He loved Adrian and Adrian loved him. So simple, so clear.
Roger let his fingers relax from around their softening cocks. His breath huffed against Adrian's chest where he lay on him. He felt so good and relaxed, he wanted to drift off to sleep ... he felt so guilty for doing this to Adrian for forcing him ... he felt so confused by the force of his own jealousy. He'd never been jealous in his life, not like this.
But now, now that he'd done this ... what next?
You good as told him not to see anyone else ...
oh please shut up ...
Roger wearily snuggled his head into Adrian's armpit with a soft moan.
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He should leave. Truly leave. He'd really fucked it up for himself. The friendship ... the potentially brilliant team they could've been... the ease between them... his peace of mind and most likely also Roger's.
He wasn't sure he could stay at the Boarding house anymore. Stay close to Roger. Wasn't sure he could see him every day without going mad. Maybe he should just... ask if he could do something else for a year and join the next classes? He didn't want to leave the Auror force completely. He'd signed the contract, made the commitment and he would stick to that. But he couldn't do this with Roger around him. Not like this. Not anymore.
Idly, his hands stroked Roger's back, as he thought. He was worn to the bone, raw and aching on the inside. A dull pain that never stopped. He'd never felt like that and he hated it. Hated how weak it made him. Hated that he had no solution.
Hated Roger? He could never do that. He'd have to hate himself first then.
He knew his circular thoughts wouldn't make any difference because he wouldn't leave.
And he had to admit to himself that Roger's reaction to him fucking Remus Lupin, even though Roger didn't know who it had been, that reaction had felt good. Jealousy. If Roger was jealous and wanted him to himself, wasn't there more then? It wasn't as if he'd done it again. Not really. It had just... it had eased his mind for a brief moment in time and it had been good. But he wouldn't do it again. Not with Remus. Not with anybody else.
He sighed. He was so lost and there was no way home. No way to Roger.
He murmured, not wanting to break the spell, but he needed to know. "Are you okay?"
Are we going to be okay?
*
"Gods yes, I'm okay," Roger exclaimed in a muffled whisper from Adrian's arm pit. He realized that people usually asked that when they weren't.
Gods, I am so not up to talking right now.
He pulled his head up and asked, "Are you okay, love?" after deciding against apologizing again.
He lowered his lips to Adrian's side, where pectoral met arm, and kissed him gently, relishing the taste and scent and feel of Adrian's skin.
He wants to know where we go from here and I don't want to go anywhere. Can't we just stay right here?
*
No, he wasn't okay. Not even the soft touch of Roger's lips could change that. He felt good, physically. Very good even, with Roger heavy and warm on him, touching him.. But emotionally, he felt like he'd been run over by the Knight's Bus.
And again that word 'love'. He wasn't Roger's love. He was just a dream, something Roger could fantasize about in the night and pretend didn't exist during the day.
He shouldn't have asked. He should just have pretended to have fallen asleep. Should just have enjoyed.
Should he lie?
"I guess." Gods... that was the worst answer possible, and it had just... slipped out. He sighed softly and stroked his fingers through Roger's hair and over his ear, gently, and murmured "I'm okay."
*
Roger reacted without thought. The tone of Adrian's reply bypassed his higher brain functions and went straight ... somewhere. He rolled over and slid an arm under Adrian's back, the other over his chest, and held him tight.
"Give it time. It's gonna be all right," Roger whispered, kissing his chest and up to his neck gently. He slid his leg over Adrian and gave him a full body hug.
"It'll be good. We'll sort it out."
Just please, not right now.
"Stay here tonight."
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And he would give it time, and he hadn't even lost the hope yet, that it would be good, that they would sort it out. Even though, they never actually talked about just that. How to sort this out. How to make it better.
Things just happened and it was unstoppable. Just as unstoppable as his fingers combing through Roger's hair and his other hand just idly stroking smooth skin.
Perhaps he should just say it?
He inhaled and started speaking "I l..." He couldn't... couldn't face that rejection right now.
But he said he loves me... he loves me, why can't I say it back? because Roger didn't want to hear it. Didn't want the things that went with it. He wanted to pretend it was just sex for Adrian. Wanted to pretend it was just this.
But can't he see it?
"I'm staying."
*
Roger began to relax his tight hold and just enjoy Adrian's touch stroking his hair and back. It felt so good. He could ... he could get used to this. His mind began drifting.
He stiffened when Adrian spoke. What ...? But then relaxed. He was staying.
He kissed Adrian's neck softly and relaxed even more toward sleep.
Adrian wasn't relaxing beneath him. Roger pulled his arm out from under Adrian's back and snuggled close. He kissed Adrian's shoulder. Why was he still awake?
With a groan Roger struggled to rearrange himself and sit up. "Turn over," he ordered then leaned over the edge of the bed to find his wand. "I'll rub your back."
*
Adrian blinked his eyes open, not quite believing his own ears. Did Roger really want to rub his back now? Couldn't he just go to sleep so Adrian could have his own time of pretending? So he could finally say it, if only while the other man wouldn't hear.
He turned over on his stomach with a small sigh, not minding the drying stickiness on his skin. He couldn't care less about that. Willfully, he made himself relax against the mattress, turning his head so he could look at Roger searching for his wand. He couldn't help smiling lightly at the sight, couldn't help reaching out and running his hand down that smooth and gracefully curved back. He always had to touch, feel the warmth, feel Roger. He closed his eyes.
*
"Mmmmm," Roger purred at Adrian's hand stroking down his back. He leaned way out of the bed to reach his wand, and then straightened back up. First, he cast a quick scourgify on himself, then straddled Adrian's hips and pointed his wand at Adrian's back.
"Lubricatum stacta calesco."
A warm stream of rich earthy smelling oil of myrrh flowed over the shoulder blades in front of him. He let his wand drop and began gently massaging the oil all over Adrian's back with long wide sweeps of his hands. Next he ran his thumbs up either side of his spine, pressing firmly. After several of those strokes, he kneaded Adrian's shoulders and ran his thumbs up into his neck.
He felt like crying. Again. Gods. He'd never cried over anyone. Adrian was so beautiful. So wonderful. He had so many good qualities and was so fucking gorgeous, and tasted so good. He was sex on two feet.
And Roger was no good for him. As long as it's only physical, I can do this. Two young blokes ... doing sex. Experimenting. ... Maybe it will wear off ... Kernunnos, please, let it wear off. Let him lose interest in me. Why did you put us together? What does he see in me?
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But they always returned, his thoughts, his feelings... Why was Roger doing this? To make him fall asleep? He could already feel it creep up on him, steadily and unavoidable. He was so exhausted, mentally, feeling empty somehow, warped, bent out of shape.
Perhaps he should stay away from Roger tomorrow. Clear his head. Go for a long walk with the dogs... go home, even if it wasn't home anymore and he couldn't truly go there. But he missed it, missed having a home in his life. This wasn't home, this was pain. And home was pain too.
Roger could be home...
He swallowed, trying not to let the relaxation take his control away as he clenched his eyes shut and willed his mind away from... all of this.
Training... he had to be strong. He had promised Roger's mother he would take care of Roger, and he couldn't do that if he was weak.
But you can't take care of him like this either. He turned his head into the pillow beneath it, not caring that it bothered his breathing a bit. No, he couldn't take care of Roger like this. He'd get them both killed in the end, if this continued.
It would have to end, one way or other. He had to face the rejection and risk saying those fatal words to him. If Roger pulled away, so be it. He would let him and not pursue this again. It would be hell, but so was this.
Just not now. Not tonight.
The moisture he could feel on the pillow against his face, it was just sweat, it wasn't anything but sweat. He had to be strong.
*
When Adrian turned his head, Roger gave his occipitals a little attention, right where the neck met the skull. Starting there, he began a long stroke down the neck and over to the shoulder, repeating again and again before doing the same to the other side.
Roger wasn't a sensitive energetic healer, but he was certain Adrian released something that he hadn't during the hot passionate sex they'd just had.
"Breathe," he whispered. "Deep breaths."
He reveled in Adrian's musculature. It was so well developed, so perfectly shaped and proportioned.
What about tomorrow?
Well, first thing in the morning I'm going to suck him off before we run.
And after that?
We run, then breakfast, then training.
Dammit Roger, what are you doing here?
I don't fucking know! I just can't seem to keep my fucking hands off him!
You know where this is headed ...
Yes ... I know ...
His anus quivered in fright.
*
The pressure against his neck felt heavenly, chasing away tension in his muscles and turning them into warm goo. He refused to acknowledge the tears still leaking slowly and silently from his eyes. He was strong and he could do this.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow he could do this.
Adrian couldn't fight the warm soft blanket of relaxation and sleepiness he was increasingly wrapped in by Roger's hands and fingers, the soft words. He was breathing, slowly but not deeply. He knew if he did that, it would loosen him up and he would lose those precious shreds of control he had left.
The moisture against his face stopped meaning anything as his thoughts slowed down to a lazy painful slur inside his head, all of his remaining attention fixed on Roger's touches and his comforting weight.
Tomorrow was far away and not now, he would hold onto that thought alone. That was all that mattered in this moment as he reluctantly drifted towards sleep.
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He slid his body down Adrian's and pulled the covers over them, snuggling close. He really did like sleeping with Adrian ... among other things.
*
Through the haze of near-sleep, Adrian felt Roger settling in next to him, so wonderfully close and warm. More or less automatically, he rolled onto his side, pulling Roger with him, holding the man against his chest with an arm around his back. He could feel the slow breaths against his skin, could feel faint moisture dry on his cheeks.
Nothing else mattered as long as it was like this. Silent and warm and right, as it should be. He breathed out a soft sigh and let go, finally falling fully asleep, unaware that by moving and pulling Roger close, he had also moved Roger's head up on the pillow so he could feel the moisture.
Adrian slept, his expression relaxed, his breaths slow, his mind empty, waiting for dreams.
*
The way their bodies rolled and moved together into a perfect fit made Roger feel as though he could just die right now in bliss, utterly satisfied. Adrian's arms holding him felt so good, so safe and comforting.
But the pillow ... where Adrian's head had just been ... it was cool not warm. He rubbed his face into it. It was wet. Roger's eyes snapped open with the realization. Why is it wet? ... Oh no, .... I made him cry... I made him cry?
He resisted the urge to grip Adrian tightly and demand to know how Adrian felt, and why ... were they tears of relief? Certainly not tears of happiness. But ... if Adrian, the sex god just wanted sex ... and he'd just gotten a full share of it ... why would he cry? Roger pressed his face into the wetness on the pillow as though it could describe the emotions that had created it.
This changed everything; called into question every smug assumption Roger had made about Adrian and how he felt and why he wanted Roger. Why would he cry? Because he knows that ... what does he know? What does he want? It was maddening trying to figure Pucey out.
You're lying to yourself Roger. He told you he wants you.
And he just had me.
He wants you, Roger. You, not just your body.
And Roger felt like crying again. Why was it so painful? How could it be love if it hurt so much? How could he ever know that what was between them was truly love and not just lust?
You have to decide, Roger. Do you want to give this a chance, a real chance? You can't keep stringing him on like you're doing. It's not fair and it will tear you both apart.
Roger held very still and listened to Adrian sleep. He wrestled his demons for what seemed like hours, but finally, the peaceful sound of Adrian's breath lulled him into sleep.
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