Fic: Take You Away (4)
Title: Take You Away
Pairing: Kesler/Burrows, Lapierre/Bieksa
Rating: Explicit
Summary: Ryan is in love with Alex, mirrored by the way Kevin loves Maxim, and it's bad, so bad, to be able to see all the terrible places they could go.
ALSO I GOT AN ASSIST THIS MORNING. IT WAS GLORIOUS.
It was like RIGHTFUCKINGTHERE on the goal line. And just would not go over. So someone else tipped it in. But! ASSIISSTTT! And the guys kept making me be centre, so.
Second game since Tuesday, though, so. Super tired. But ASSIST!
Things have been different. Bad-different, miserable-different, Maxim avoiding his gaze and talking less -different. Kevin hates it, and hates being left alone to think about it, so when all the guys go out in Dallas, he goes too. No one’s gotten past their horrible loss; it wasn’t even tonight, it was two nights ago, back at home, the game that even Ryan’s hattrick couldn’t save.
He’s not actually having a good time, though. Maxim isn’t near him. And - and that’s it, Maxim isn’t right next to him, and it’s ruined Kevin’s whole night, just like it’s wrecked every day since he woke up thinking he’d have Maxim in his arms.
“Kev?” he hears, turns away from half-listening to Higgy and Schneids talk about - biking, or something; it’s the kind of conversation that makes him wish he’s had more than just one beer. When he looks over, though, it all falls away, because Maxim’s standing next to him. He’s spent the evening drinking with Bally and Kass and Mason, and Kevin’s been trying not to look over every two minutes.
But Maxim came over to him, and - and Maxim’s looking at him, gaze on his face, actually wanting his attention. Maxim touches his arm, so gentle. “I miss you,” he says, and Kevin can barely hear it, but he knows that’s what Maxim said, quiet and desperate. He’s speechless for a second, heart suddenly beating so much faster. He leans in to speak into Maxim’s ear, hand on his shoulder.
“What do you want, Maxi?” he asks, “what would make you happy?”
“You,” Maxim says, “just - you, oh, please.”
“Anything you want.” Kevin aches to give anything to him, but first - he wants Maxim to ask the world of him.
“I need you, Kev, please, I miss kissing you,” he breathes. Kevin’s open-mouthed in surprise, as Maxim looks up at him, a kind of longing on his face. “I really, really miss you,” he says, and when Kevin looks at him, all he can think about is how it felt to kiss him, how he should have taken longer, gone slower, memorized every last detail. And he’s - is he really - being handed the opportunity to do it over again, does he really get to kiss Maxim again?
“Let’s go,” he says, only pauses to throw down money on the table for their tab before he takes Maxim’s hand, “c’mon, Maxi.” He wants to kiss Maxim right now, because Maxim’s holding tight to his hand and following him out of the bar, staying so close.
The bar’s only a few blocks from the hotel so they start down the street; Kevin’s not ready to let go of Maxim’s hand yet, and he’s so relieved when Maxim doesn’t take his hand away.
“I just-” Maxim says, and his accent’s always stronger when he’s been drinking; it’s the sweetest thing Kevin’s ever heard. “I really missed you,” Maxim says, and it’s different, hearing it like this, just quietness around them. Kevin smiles, tugs Maxim into a doorway alcove they’re passing and kisses him up against the wall. Fuck, he’s missed this, it’s familiar and thrilling, even as it’s so new, he doesn’t know this nearly enough.
“Is this better?” he asks, and Maxim nods, clinging to his shirt.
“So much better, oh my God,” Maxim breathes, “please, please, more.”
“Anything you want, baby,” Kevin needs Maxim to be looking at him like this forever, because it’s just so bad, when Maxim doesn’t meet his eyes, leaves the room a little too soon, doesn’t ever touch him in any way. “Just tell me.”
“Just you,” Maxim clings a little tighter, like he’s afraid Kevin’s going to leave. Kevin strokes over the back of one of Maxim’s hands, smiles.
“You have me.” He leans in to kiss Maxim again, discovers that when he bites gently at Maxim’s lower lip, Maxim whimpers. “Maxi,” he pulls away reluctantly, “I don’t wanna stop kissing you, but - we gotta get to our room, or I’m gonna undress you right here.”
“I guess we can’t do that,” Maxim sighs out, “so, hotel. Yeah.” He tugs on Kevin’s hand, smiles up at him. “Please.”
Kevin leads him back out to the street, might be nearly dragging him along. He’s just - just really excited to get back, he gets to kiss Maxim again, so many times. “I can’t wait,” he says, “tell me what we’re going to do.” Maxim looks at him, a thrilled surprise on his face. Kevin grins; it almost feels dangerous, holding Maxim’s hand in the middle of Toronto, saying tell me what we’re going to do, people around them, only just far away enough that they can’t be overheard.
“I want-” Maxim starts, breathy and desperate, “I want you to fuck me, okay, please. And I want to kiss you, so much, I need it.” Kevin’s so, so glad they’re nearly to the hotel, because he can’t take this much longer, he needs to be kissing Maxim. “That’s what I want, we should do that, I really want you to fuck me - Kevin,” he says, squeezes Kevin’s hand, “I can’t - talk about this, it’s - just really hot,” he whimpers. “I can’t - can’t think about it and not get turned on, okay, I just - how far is the hotel?”
“I want you turned on,” Kevin tells him, rubs his thumb over the back of Maxim’s hand, “I love you turned on.” He smiles at Maxim, really loves the way Maxim whimpers. They’re finally at the hotel, thank God, and when they get to the elevator, Kevin presses it a hundred times until it comes.
“Didn’t you say something about wanting to kiss me?” he asks once the doors have closed after them, “so much? Needing to? Or did you change your mind?” He grins, seeing the way Maxim’s biting his lip and looking at him like they can’t get to their room soon enough.
“Ouais,” Maxim says, kind of hoarse, “need to, and want to, both.” Kevin pouts out his lower lip, runs his thumb over it, kind of really loves the way Maxim’s breath hitches. In the next half-second, Maxim’s pushed him back against the wall and crushed their lips together.
“I hope you didn’t change your mind about wanting me to fuck you,” Kevin says into his ear when they’ve parted, “because I’m really looking forward to it.” Maxim moans, turns his face against Kevin’s neck.
“Don’t make me come right here,” he whimpers, one hand tight in Kevin’s shirt, “I - I really want you to fuck me, because - I liked last time, a lot, but I still - want it, so much.”
“I’m glad you didn’t change your mind,” Kevin nuzzles at Maxim’s neck, wants to ask you liked it last time? How much? What part? Tell me everything, please, please.
They finally get to their floor, and the two minutes it takes to get into their room is too long to wait when Maxim’s holding his hand and looking at him like that. The second the door closes, Kevin pulls Maxim to him and kisses him hard.
“S’il te plait,” Maxim pleads, lips against Kevin’s, sounds desperate. Kevin guides him back to the bed, and Maxim scoots back onto it, reaches towards Kevin immediately. He tugs Kevin down with him, and oh, how Kevin likes this, likes Maxim needing him close, always pulling him in. It’s just - good, to feel wanted, there, because this is where he lives, in awe of Maxim.
“What do you want?” he asks as he unbuttons Maxim’s shirt, just wants to hear it so many times.
“You, you-” Maxim squirms out of his shirt, tugs impatiently at Kevin’s beltloop even as he leans up to kiss Kevin again, like he can’t decide what he wants, wants everything. Fuck, though, every time Maxim begs, Kevin just gets harder, and his jeans are getting painfully restrictive.
“Lemme just,” he gasps out, fumbles with the button on his jeans, pauses to yank his shirt off. He whimpers when he feels Maxim undoing his jeans the rest of the way for him, and even the momentary brush of Maxim’s fingers over his dick has him leaking into his boxers. “Gonna kill me, Maxi,” he groans, pushes Maxim back on the bed and leans over him to crush their lips together.
“S’il te plait, Kev, s’il te plait,” Maxim gasps, hips twitching up, “Oh, Kev-”
“’s okay,” Kevin kisses him again, then sits back to get his own jeans off, tossing them to the floor, Maxim’s following a moment later. Maxim pushes his own boxers off, and Kevin somehow manages to simultaneously stare and get his own off, throw them aside. He grabs the little bottle of lotion off the nightstand - he was trying to stack the bottles of shampoo and conditioner and lotion this afternoon, he was just so bored - and fumbles with the cap for a second. He needs, really needs, to be inside Maxim, but he goes slow, one finger at a time even as Maxim whimpers and pleads. “Don’t wanna hurt you, baby,” Kevin says, kisses Maxim’s inner thigh to steady him. Maxim makes a soft, gentle whimpering sound, a momentary pause in their burning need, and for a second, Kevin can’t move, can only stare at Maxim and can’t think anything but the amount I love him is crazy.
By three fingers, Maxim’s blatantly pleading s’il te plait more more over and over, so Kevin takes his fingers away. Maxim whines in protest before it turns hopeful and needy as he realises what Kevin’s doing. Kevin lines himself up, pushes in slow.
“Oh,” Maxim gasps, reaches for Kevin. Kevin catches Maxim’s hand in his own, presses a kiss to his palm. “More, please,” Maxim begs, so Kevin thrusts into him, slow at first. He changes his angle just a little and suddenly, Maxim’s moans are even more desperate, and he arches his back, hips twitching helplessly.
“Like that?” Kevin asks, as if it isn’t obvious. Maxim groans in response, the most encouraging thing Kevin’s ever heard. He thrusts in faster, harder, and it feels so fucking good, even better than last time because he catches every detail, everything about Maxim that’s telling him Maxim loves this. When he feels himself getting close, he wraps a hand around Maxim’s leaking erection, and it’s only a few strokes before Maxim’s coming with a loud cry, taking Kevin over with him.
Kevin grabs a thrown-aside t-shirt off the floor to clean up with, and afterwards, he pauses, thinks of last time and waking up alone. Maxim scoots closer, though, looks up at him with something like puzzlement, and when Kevin opens his arms to Maxim, the confusion vanishes. Kevin never wants Maxim to wonder why aren’t you expecting to hold me, and his heart kind of breaks over the way Maxim expected it, like last time never happened.
“Did you like this time or last time better?” Maxim asks sleepily after he’s situated, one arm wrapped around Kevin.
“I loved both, baby, which did you like better?” He cards his fingers through Maxim’s hair, wonder what Maxim’s thinking.
“I don’t know,” Maxim eventually says, “I’d need, um. More. Again.” Kevin laughs, hugs him closer.
“Anytime you want, Maxi,” he says, the truest thing he’s ever said. Really, this is just what he does, waits for Maxim to want him. It’s sad, it’s slowly breaking him into pieces, but if he sometimes ends up with Maxim in his arms, he’ll be all right.
0o0o0o0o0o0oo
Alex is quiet. Over the years, it’s taken Ryan less and less time to figure out when Alex is being unnaturally quiet, and by now, it’s nearly instantaneous, before Alex even has a chance to skip things he would normally say. Recognising it has never made knowing what to do any easier, though, just gives him more time to feel like the worst friend in the world. Alex has been quiet through the entire flight so far, leaned against Ryan’s side like he’s going to sleep, even though he’s been awake this entire time. Ryan wants so badly to pull Alex into his arms and kiss him and ask him what’s wrong, what he can do to make it better, what will make Alex happy. He can’t, though, because everything he’s allowed to do, it’s only under that flimsy premise of practice. He hates it, all the things that aren’t really his, everything that keeps him from kissing Alex without any excuses, without needing an explanation.
He’s almost worked up a way to ask is something wrong without needing to kiss Alex after he says it, but by then, they’ve arrived and Alex is standing up, his warm weight suddenly gone from Ryan’s side. He’s less than talkative during dinner with the team, too - it puts him at a level of talkativeness level with everyone else, so Ryan knows it’s not that something happened, but Alex is thinking about something, probably over and over. It always bugs him, how no one notices, that while he’s dropping silverware and fumbling things because he’s so focused on worrying, no one else has noticed a thing, like Alex talking with long pauses isn’t wrong.
Some of the guys go out to some bar after dinner, and Ryan’s relieved when Alex looks at him hopefully, gives him a half smile. When Alex is asking want to go out with them?, his smile is more excited than soft like this.
“Wanna stay in?” he asks.
“Sure,” Alex says, smiles like Ryan’s got the right answer. They head back to their room, and after changing clothes, Ryan climbs onto Alex’s bed, turns on the TV. “Is anything on?” Alex asks, following and sitting next to him. He scoots so close their shoulders are touching, and Ryan only barely resists reaching over and squeezing his hand.
“There never really is. You see anything?” he asks. Alex shakes his head no, but doesn’t offer a list everything he’d rather watch. This isn’t like when he’s tired, because he’d still be talking, yawning and meandering. Ryan bumps his shoulder against Alex’s, smiles at him, the closest he can get to tell me what’s wrong. Alex smiles up at Ryan, some of the tense thoughtfulness gone from his face. Ryan lifts his arm to the pillow behind Alex, hopes Alex will scoot in to cuddle against his chest. Alex does, shifts over to curl in against Ryan’s side. Ryan wraps his arms around Alex, strokes his hair.
“I’ve wanted to do this all day,” he admits. It feels like confessing something big, like in saying this he’s told every thought he’s had today, because it was all so centered around the need to hold Alex, be allowed to love Alex the way he wants to. Alex wraps an arm around him, makes a sweet little sighing sound as Ryan strokes over his hair. “How’re you feeling?” he ventures, and it’s probably saying too much, declaring I know something’s wrong, but he just needs to know, to make sure Alex is okay. Alex snuggles in closer against him, settles his hand on Ryan’s side just at the edge of Ryan’s shirt, two fingers curled up under it.
“Good now,” Alex says softly. It’s not the most encouraging thing Ryan has ever heard, but at least Alex is now, and maybe - maybe some part of that has to do with Ryan. It’s probably just - because touch makes people feel better, but maybe it’s because it’s him.
“Were you… not feeling good before?” Ryan asks unsteadily. Alex doesn’t say anything, just traces his thumb over Ryan’s skin under his shirt. “Alex?” he kisses the top of Alex’s head, wants so badly to nuzzle at his neck and kiss his cheeks, wishes it would make Alex feel better.
“I’m okay,” Alex says, so soft, but it’s not him, and Ryan’s never been more afraid of anything than Alex being too quiet.
“What’s wrong babe? You’re never this quiet,” he strokes Alex’s back gently, wants to hug him too tight and kiss him better.
“When are you going to - to be doing it?” Alex asks, doesn’t lift his head from Ryan’s chest, “to be asking out this - guy?”
“I’m not going to ask him out,” Ryan says, “I can’t.”
“I’m so worried he’ll hurt you,” Alex nearly whispers, looks up at him with concerned eyes. Ryan laughs sadly; there’s no real way to tell Alex it’s you, you hurt me every day because you don’t love me and oh, God, I wish you did.
“It’s okay, you know?” he says, “I’d rather be hurt by him than not have him in my life at all. I’d rather that than being happy with someone else.” Because - he couldn’t be happy with someone else, that’s the thing. It’s been this way for so long, and the longer he knows Alex, the more he falls in love.
“You must love him a lot,” Alex says. Ryan hugs him tighter, doesn’t know how Alex still hasn’t seen it, because he’s just so bad at hiding how much he loves Alex.
“I love him more than anything. I love him so much.” It’s the closest he’ll ever come to telling Alex I love you, the most important thing he could ever say, as important as it is impossible. “Are you disappointed in me?” he asks abruptly, because Alex is still quiet.
“What?” Alex looks up at him, confused, “why? How could I be this?”
“Because I’m still not able to… tell him.” It’s just - this is the premise of every time he’s allowed to touch Alex. What if every day they practice, Alex is finding him more and more pathetic?
“No, I am understanding. It sounds very hard.” Alex smiles at him a little, and he’s just - just so fucking perfect, his sweet sympathy that Ryan doesn’t even deserve.
“I wish he would ask me out,” Ryan blurts out. He wishes Alex would do it for him, wishes Alex even wanted to. “When we’re together and he’s close to me… all I can even think is I love you so much, I wish you were mine.” He sighs out a breath, strokes over Alex’s hair gently. He wants to think I don’t know how much of this I can take, saying I love you to Alex with only invisible meaning, but he can’t think that; he’ll suffer this forever, there will never be a point when it’s too much to handle, because Alex is always worth even more than the pain he doesn’t know he causes. “I wonder if he even knows.”
“Maybe he is loving you so much, he finds it difficult too,” Alex offers. Ryan can only laugh, even though it’s so impossible it hurts.
“No way he ever could love me,” Ryan squeezes Alex tighter in his arms a little. “You never answered my question.”
“What is your question?”
“I asked why you’re so quiet today,” Ryan reminds him gently. He wants to kiss Alex for the sweet confusion on his face.
“Because, I worry for you and this guy, if he is hurting you,” Alex says, and it hurts, how caring he is.
“I’m okay. I don’t want my problems to make you unhappy.”
“Your problems don’t make me unhappy,” Alex says, looks up at Ryan like he needs to understand this, “you being sad, this does.”
“I’m not sad, babe,” Ryan murmurs, “I’m holding you.” There’s no way he can communicate the extent of that, how impossibly happy holding Alex makes him. It’s just - this is everything he wants. More than touching Alex all over, this is what he wants, to be the only one allowed to do this.
“That’s good,” Alex tilts his head back against Ryan’s chest, doesn’t say anything more.
“Is anything else bothering you?” Ryan asks, but Alex shakes his head no. Ryan scoots down a little, until he’s even with Alex. “Alex,” he says softly, “d’you know how important you are to me?” He just needs Alex to know this, hopes so desperately he’s not what’s bothering Alex. Just - what if Alex won’t want to let Ryan touch him anymore, now that he knows Ryan’s love is hopeless? What if Alex feels used by him? Because - because maybe it looks like that, he doesn’t know this is all Ryan wants, that he’s the only one.
Alex surprises him by kissing him, quick and soft, and it’s a few moments before Ryan can even breathe again. “Does that mean yes?” he asks hopefully, “tell me you know.” Alex nods, his gaze falling again. “Do you - want me to stop?” Ryan ventures. God, that would hurt, to give all this up, but upsetting Alex would hurt so, so much more.
“Stop?” Alex echoes, and - and it’s not please hold me forever, Ryan. But - he’s never said that, anyways. Maybe this is it, maybe this is where it ends, because Ryan never deserved him and doesn’t even have the pretense of it now. Alex was only ever letting Ryan hold him to practice kissing the imaginary guy; maybe Alex thinks it’s pointless, now that he knows Ryan could never go through with it. It’s heartbreaking, but - maybe worst of all, it’s not surprising.
“But… no,” Alex says, nearly a whimper, and suddenly, Ryan’s pulse is racing.
“You don’t want to stop?” he asks hopefully, smiles when Alex shakes his head no. He pulls Alex back into his arms, and he missed holding Alex, in the ten seconds that he wasn’t. “I don’t ever want to stop,” he admits quietly.
“Then so don’t,” Alex says, sounds like he means it.
“I don’t want to stop kissing you either.” Ryan really hopes he’ll be allowed to kiss Alex right now, just really needs to do it again.
“Good.” He can’t decipher the tone, it sounds almost like relief, and whatever it is, it’s good. Ryan leans in to kiss him, and maybe this is the best way, holding Alex in his arms and kissing him deep and slow.
“Alex, Alex, Alex,” he gasps out, loves the way Alex moans, “I love kissing you, Alex,” he just needs to be aware of it, over and over, that this is Alex, his Alex, impossibly, perfectly. “There’s nothing I’d rather do,” he breathes, something shaky and nervous expanding in his chest. God, he just can’t stop saying things when he has Alex like this, it just tears him open and has him confessing so much, because it feels so right, everything he feels needs to bracket it so it feels like it’s really his, even if just for the moment.
“Me too,” Alex says against his lips. Ryan can’t - just can’t believe it, but he wants to, he wants it to be true. But how can Alex not know? Ryan’s been in love with him for so long, aches to tell him, and it’s just so present, he doesn’t know how it isn’t immediately obvious.
Alex slips his hand up under Ryan’s shirt, strokes down his side. Just this little touch makes Ryan shiver, and he’s wanted to put his hand under Alex’s shirt to touch his bare back, but it felt too forward, but oh, maybe it’s okay. He dares to do it now, and the sound Alex makes is amazing. God, Alex is just - just the sweetest, so perfect, he must have been just designed to be loved, to be adored like nothing else. He must need it, just part of being as amazing as he is, and maybe that’s why he lets Ryan do something he so clearly doesn’t deserve. If Alex wasn’t wasting all his time being charitable and spending time with Ryan, though, he’d surely have someone who deserves him, who could satisfy that need for Alex and actually be good at it, who wouldn’t have to devise plans to just be allowed to kiss him. Ryan can’t imagine anyone on Alex’s level, but then again, he didn’t think someone like Alex even existed before they met, so maybe it’s just not something he’s even capable of imagining, he’s so firmly on a lower level than where Alex lives.
The sounds Alex makes are driving Ryan insane, he’s whimpering and squirming under Ryan’s hands, kissing him with growing urgency. It has Ryan’s dick throbbing between his legs, and he really wants to touch himself to relieve the ache of it, but maybe Alex would find that weird, and he wants so badly to be allowed to kiss him. He squirms uncomfortably when Alex makes that little breathy sound, and his boxers are surely sticky with precum by now.
“You drive me crazy, Alex,” he whimpers out, tries to stop his hips from twitching. Oh, God, he’s wearing shorts, it must be so obvious - “nothing’s ever turned me on the way you do,” he kisses Alex harder, moans when Alex licks into his mouth. And fuck, Alex has slipped a hand down to his own crotch, pressing the heel of his hands against his erection, and Ryan groans involuntarily, hot and breathing hard just from seeing this. So maybe that means it’s okay - not like he could keep his hands off himself, he’s so hard it hurts, leaking steadily now, because holy fuck, Alex just lights him on fire. He rubs his hand over himself through his shorts, but that just makes it worse, teasing and not enough. Alex moans like this is somehow turning him on, too, and oh, God, Ryan can’t handle it. He shoves a hand into his own shorts to wrap a hand around himself, groans in relief. It’s getting increasingly harder to breathe, but he still can’t stop kissing Alex, and when he slips a hand down the back of Alex’s shorts, Alex groans out something unintelligible, kisses him desperately. Fuck, it’s all so good, he’s getting so close - and then, Alex pushes Ryan’s hand aside and replaces it with his own, and oh, God, good gets even better. Ryan gasps, his hips jerking up involuntarily. All too soon, he cries out as his orgasm hits him hard, and he can’t help but dig his nails into Alex’s wrist, his ass, back arching as he comes.
“So hot, Ryan, tabarnakkk,” Alex groans, kisses him hard.
“Alex, please, please, fuck me,” he begs, “please.” Alex has to press his hand against the base of his own erection, draws in a quick, shallow breath.
“Oui,” he says hoarsely, “oui, je veux, je veux tellement-” he draws in a shaky breath, “attends, we need-” Ryan lets him slide off the bed, just tries to remember how to breathe as Alex grabs one of the little lotions from the bathroom. He manages to get his shirt and shorts off even though he can barely think straight, because Alex is really going to do it this time, and Ryan really, really wants it, so bad, he wants Alex to want him like that, oh, does he? He has to, he’s really going to do it - Alex comes back to the bed and quickly strips off his shirt and his shorts before he climbs onto the bed, pushes Ryan onto his back to kiss him soundly. “I can? “Alex asks in between kisses. Ryan nods, can’t manage any words at all. Alex tilts Ryan’s knees apart, settles in between his legs. He slicks up his fingers, pushes in one so slowly.
“Oh,” Ryan manages, “more, more-” Alex slides in another finger, moans softly as he fucks Ryan slowly with his fingers.
“Calisse, I can’t,” Alex groans, “I can’t-” his dick twitches, leaking liberally. Ryan reaches to pull Alex down to him, kisses him.
“You can,” he counters, gets a hand between them to wrap a hand around Alex’s erection.
“Oh, oh, tabarnaaak, Ryan,” Alex grinds out, “no, don’t touch me, I’ll - I’ll-” Ryan loves the neediness in his voice. He thumbs over the head of Alex’s dick and Alex moans deeply. “Je peux pas - last, Ryan, I can’t-”
Ryan whimpers when Alex takes his fingers away, but then Alex is shifting in closer to him, slicking himself up.
“Oh,” Alex groans as soon as the head of his dick touches Ryan’s entrance, but then he cries out, his hand tightening on Ryan’s hip as he comes suddenly, rubbing helplessly against Ryan, just sliding over his entrance teasingly. “Ryan,” he says quietly, breathless and hoarse, “I told you, this will happen, I’m sorry-” Ryan smiles, though, pulls Alex down and kisses him.
“Next time, then,” he says, doesn’t mind at all because next time, oh, he gets a next time. “it’s just impossible to keep my hands off of you,” he says, grins up at Alex, “I’ll try harder next time.
“Well, non,” Alex says, flushing pink, “you do not have to be doing that.”
“If that’s the only way I’m ever gonna get you to fuck me, that’s what I’ll do,” Ryan kisses him again, loves that Alex smiles now. “Difficult as it’ll be to not touch.” He kisses Alex once more before Alex goes to grab a towel. He kisses Ryan as he towels him off, so gentle and sweet Ryan could almost cry from it. Alex kisses Ryan’s bent-up knee before crawling back up the bed to lie down next to him. Ryan gathers Alex in close, kisses the tip of his nose.
“Sometimes I think we’d be great together,” Ryan whispers, terrified of the words the moment he says them. Alex looks away, ducks his head and curls in along Ryan’s side. “More than sometimes,” Ryan adds, barely a breath to the words. All the time, always, I just want you, no one else, not ever, he can’t say. Alex buries his face against Ryan’s chest, and it’s with a growing feeling of sickening dread that Ryan just knows he said something wrong.
“Alex?” he ventures uneasily. Alex isn’t - isn’t saying anything, Ryan shouldn’t have said that, shouldn’t, shouldn’t even want Alex this much.
“What?” Alex says, so quiet.
“What’re you thinking?” he doesn’t even know what to hope for, wants impossible things like he always does, but he’d settle for anything that means he hasn’t ruined everything, just to know that he didn’t somehow hurt Alex.
“I don’t know,” Alex mumbles, “I’m just. So tired. I can’t think.” That doesn’t make Ryan feel any better, not at all, because - because Alex isn’t being Alex. He’s quiet, so quiet, he’s not smiling and being sweet and happy about everything, he’s not talking at all, and Ryan doesn’t know what to do. Whatever it is, though, it’s his fault, he knows it, can’t stand that.
“I’m scared,” Ryan whispers, holding Alex tighter against him. Alex lifts his head, looks up at him, so worried.
“Why? Ryan, why?” He strokes Ryan’s side gently, looking up at him with concerned eyes. Ryan looks away, swallows hard.
“It feels like - like you’re mad at me, or disappointed in me, or tired of me.” Fuck, please, let it be none of these things. He doesn’t know which would hurt the most, and oh, he doesn’t want to find out, please let him never find out.
“Ryan, I could never be any of these things,” Alex says quietly, “I promise.” But - but Ryan can’t believe it, he can’t, because he fucked up somehow and Alex is so quiet and goddamnit, he’s not going to cry, he’s really not, but - but fuck, Alex has to be angry at him, or think he’s a failure or just not want him anymore.
“Then why are you being so quiet today?” he asks, and his voice trembles, but he’s not going to cry, he’s not.
“Because, I telled you, I am so worried about you and this guy,” Alex says, touches one hand to Ryan’s cheek gently, “I want you to be happy, and I’m just worried for you, how sad it makes you.” He’s - fuck, he’s perfect, the sweetest person Ryan’s ever known, and God, he wishes Alex wanted him back.
“Please don’t worry,” he pleads, “I’m okay, really. He makes me happy a lot more than he makes me sad. He’s the best thing in my life.”
“That’s good,” Alex says softly. Ryan waits, doesn’t know what to do, just forces himself not to cry and waits for Alex to be Alex again. Alex doesn’t say anything more, though, just scoots back in close, buries his face against Ryan’s chest.
“Do you believe me?” Ryan asks. “I’m okay, Alex. Do you believe me?”
“Yeah,” Alex leans up a little to kiss Ryan’s jaw, just a soft brush of his lips. “Of course.”
“He’d never do anything to hurt me,” Ryan promises, and it hurts, telling Alex this is all the things you are to me, perfect, just perfect. “He’s so sweet to me, he’s - just perfect. I love him so much,” he says softly.
“Ryan,” Alex breathes out, “you deserve someone like this, who is perfect.” Ryan can only laugh, because there’s just no way he deserves Alex, he’s done nothing that could make him deserve perfection.
“Yeah, well, I don’t,” he says, hugs Alex tight against him, “but thanks for saying that.” He kisses the top of Alex’s head, wants so badly to kiss him everywhere, beg tell me what I could do to deserve you, I just love you so much. “You sleepy?” he asks. Alex nods, mumbles a little affirmative sound. “Let’s get under the covers,” he suggests, already tugging at them. Alex crawls under the covers, never stops touching Ryan as he does so. Ryan pulls Alex in close again, just loves this, always having Alex in his bed, something amazing that’s somehow his now.
“Goodnight, Alex,” he says softly, kisses Alex when he looks up like this is what he’s asking for. He’s not really tired, but he tries to be quiet so Alex can sleep. He just wants to stay up all night to memorise this, doesn’t want to miss out on even a moment of Alex in his arms. Ryan doesn’t know how this is his, how he’s lucky enough to feel Alex fall asleep in his arms and burrow in close against him, make whimpering little sounds until Ryan strokes his back gently. Somehow, Ryan has almost everything he’s ever wanted, and he may never hear Alex say I love you, say I’m yours forever, but at least he has this, at least he has something, and with Alex, he loves every little thing.
Pairing: Kesler/Burrows, Lapierre/Bieksa
Rating: Explicit
Summary: Ryan is in love with Alex, mirrored by the way Kevin loves Maxim, and it's bad, so bad, to be able to see all the terrible places they could go.
ALSO I GOT AN ASSIST THIS MORNING. IT WAS GLORIOUS.
It was like RIGHTFUCKINGTHERE on the goal line. And just would not go over. So someone else tipped it in. But! ASSIISSTTT! And the guys kept making me be centre, so.
Second game since Tuesday, though, so. Super tired. But ASSIST!
Things have been different. Bad-different, miserable-different, Maxim avoiding his gaze and talking less -different. Kevin hates it, and hates being left alone to think about it, so when all the guys go out in Dallas, he goes too. No one’s gotten past their horrible loss; it wasn’t even tonight, it was two nights ago, back at home, the game that even Ryan’s hattrick couldn’t save.
He’s not actually having a good time, though. Maxim isn’t near him. And - and that’s it, Maxim isn’t right next to him, and it’s ruined Kevin’s whole night, just like it’s wrecked every day since he woke up thinking he’d have Maxim in his arms.
“Kev?” he hears, turns away from half-listening to Higgy and Schneids talk about - biking, or something; it’s the kind of conversation that makes him wish he’s had more than just one beer. When he looks over, though, it all falls away, because Maxim’s standing next to him. He’s spent the evening drinking with Bally and Kass and Mason, and Kevin’s been trying not to look over every two minutes.
But Maxim came over to him, and - and Maxim’s looking at him, gaze on his face, actually wanting his attention. Maxim touches his arm, so gentle. “I miss you,” he says, and Kevin can barely hear it, but he knows that’s what Maxim said, quiet and desperate. He’s speechless for a second, heart suddenly beating so much faster. He leans in to speak into Maxim’s ear, hand on his shoulder.
“What do you want, Maxi?” he asks, “what would make you happy?”
“You,” Maxim says, “just - you, oh, please.”
“Anything you want.” Kevin aches to give anything to him, but first - he wants Maxim to ask the world of him.
“I need you, Kev, please, I miss kissing you,” he breathes. Kevin’s open-mouthed in surprise, as Maxim looks up at him, a kind of longing on his face. “I really, really miss you,” he says, and when Kevin looks at him, all he can think about is how it felt to kiss him, how he should have taken longer, gone slower, memorized every last detail. And he’s - is he really - being handed the opportunity to do it over again, does he really get to kiss Maxim again?
“Let’s go,” he says, only pauses to throw down money on the table for their tab before he takes Maxim’s hand, “c’mon, Maxi.” He wants to kiss Maxim right now, because Maxim’s holding tight to his hand and following him out of the bar, staying so close.
The bar’s only a few blocks from the hotel so they start down the street; Kevin’s not ready to let go of Maxim’s hand yet, and he’s so relieved when Maxim doesn’t take his hand away.
“I just-” Maxim says, and his accent’s always stronger when he’s been drinking; it’s the sweetest thing Kevin’s ever heard. “I really missed you,” Maxim says, and it’s different, hearing it like this, just quietness around them. Kevin smiles, tugs Maxim into a doorway alcove they’re passing and kisses him up against the wall. Fuck, he’s missed this, it’s familiar and thrilling, even as it’s so new, he doesn’t know this nearly enough.
“Is this better?” he asks, and Maxim nods, clinging to his shirt.
“So much better, oh my God,” Maxim breathes, “please, please, more.”
“Anything you want, baby,” Kevin needs Maxim to be looking at him like this forever, because it’s just so bad, when Maxim doesn’t meet his eyes, leaves the room a little too soon, doesn’t ever touch him in any way. “Just tell me.”
“Just you,” Maxim clings a little tighter, like he’s afraid Kevin’s going to leave. Kevin strokes over the back of one of Maxim’s hands, smiles.
“You have me.” He leans in to kiss Maxim again, discovers that when he bites gently at Maxim’s lower lip, Maxim whimpers. “Maxi,” he pulls away reluctantly, “I don’t wanna stop kissing you, but - we gotta get to our room, or I’m gonna undress you right here.”
“I guess we can’t do that,” Maxim sighs out, “so, hotel. Yeah.” He tugs on Kevin’s hand, smiles up at him. “Please.”
Kevin leads him back out to the street, might be nearly dragging him along. He’s just - just really excited to get back, he gets to kiss Maxim again, so many times. “I can’t wait,” he says, “tell me what we’re going to do.” Maxim looks at him, a thrilled surprise on his face. Kevin grins; it almost feels dangerous, holding Maxim’s hand in the middle of Toronto, saying tell me what we’re going to do, people around them, only just far away enough that they can’t be overheard.
“I want-” Maxim starts, breathy and desperate, “I want you to fuck me, okay, please. And I want to kiss you, so much, I need it.” Kevin’s so, so glad they’re nearly to the hotel, because he can’t take this much longer, he needs to be kissing Maxim. “That’s what I want, we should do that, I really want you to fuck me - Kevin,” he says, squeezes Kevin’s hand, “I can’t - talk about this, it’s - just really hot,” he whimpers. “I can’t - can’t think about it and not get turned on, okay, I just - how far is the hotel?”
“I want you turned on,” Kevin tells him, rubs his thumb over the back of Maxim’s hand, “I love you turned on.” He smiles at Maxim, really loves the way Maxim whimpers. They’re finally at the hotel, thank God, and when they get to the elevator, Kevin presses it a hundred times until it comes.
“Didn’t you say something about wanting to kiss me?” he asks once the doors have closed after them, “so much? Needing to? Or did you change your mind?” He grins, seeing the way Maxim’s biting his lip and looking at him like they can’t get to their room soon enough.
“Ouais,” Maxim says, kind of hoarse, “need to, and want to, both.” Kevin pouts out his lower lip, runs his thumb over it, kind of really loves the way Maxim’s breath hitches. In the next half-second, Maxim’s pushed him back against the wall and crushed their lips together.
“I hope you didn’t change your mind about wanting me to fuck you,” Kevin says into his ear when they’ve parted, “because I’m really looking forward to it.” Maxim moans, turns his face against Kevin’s neck.
“Don’t make me come right here,” he whimpers, one hand tight in Kevin’s shirt, “I - I really want you to fuck me, because - I liked last time, a lot, but I still - want it, so much.”
“I’m glad you didn’t change your mind,” Kevin nuzzles at Maxim’s neck, wants to ask you liked it last time? How much? What part? Tell me everything, please, please.
They finally get to their floor, and the two minutes it takes to get into their room is too long to wait when Maxim’s holding his hand and looking at him like that. The second the door closes, Kevin pulls Maxim to him and kisses him hard.
“S’il te plait,” Maxim pleads, lips against Kevin’s, sounds desperate. Kevin guides him back to the bed, and Maxim scoots back onto it, reaches towards Kevin immediately. He tugs Kevin down with him, and oh, how Kevin likes this, likes Maxim needing him close, always pulling him in. It’s just - good, to feel wanted, there, because this is where he lives, in awe of Maxim.
“What do you want?” he asks as he unbuttons Maxim’s shirt, just wants to hear it so many times.
“You, you-” Maxim squirms out of his shirt, tugs impatiently at Kevin’s beltloop even as he leans up to kiss Kevin again, like he can’t decide what he wants, wants everything. Fuck, though, every time Maxim begs, Kevin just gets harder, and his jeans are getting painfully restrictive.
“Lemme just,” he gasps out, fumbles with the button on his jeans, pauses to yank his shirt off. He whimpers when he feels Maxim undoing his jeans the rest of the way for him, and even the momentary brush of Maxim’s fingers over his dick has him leaking into his boxers. “Gonna kill me, Maxi,” he groans, pushes Maxim back on the bed and leans over him to crush their lips together.
“S’il te plait, Kev, s’il te plait,” Maxim gasps, hips twitching up, “Oh, Kev-”
“’s okay,” Kevin kisses him again, then sits back to get his own jeans off, tossing them to the floor, Maxim’s following a moment later. Maxim pushes his own boxers off, and Kevin somehow manages to simultaneously stare and get his own off, throw them aside. He grabs the little bottle of lotion off the nightstand - he was trying to stack the bottles of shampoo and conditioner and lotion this afternoon, he was just so bored - and fumbles with the cap for a second. He needs, really needs, to be inside Maxim, but he goes slow, one finger at a time even as Maxim whimpers and pleads. “Don’t wanna hurt you, baby,” Kevin says, kisses Maxim’s inner thigh to steady him. Maxim makes a soft, gentle whimpering sound, a momentary pause in their burning need, and for a second, Kevin can’t move, can only stare at Maxim and can’t think anything but the amount I love him is crazy.
By three fingers, Maxim’s blatantly pleading s’il te plait more more over and over, so Kevin takes his fingers away. Maxim whines in protest before it turns hopeful and needy as he realises what Kevin’s doing. Kevin lines himself up, pushes in slow.
“Oh,” Maxim gasps, reaches for Kevin. Kevin catches Maxim’s hand in his own, presses a kiss to his palm. “More, please,” Maxim begs, so Kevin thrusts into him, slow at first. He changes his angle just a little and suddenly, Maxim’s moans are even more desperate, and he arches his back, hips twitching helplessly.
“Like that?” Kevin asks, as if it isn’t obvious. Maxim groans in response, the most encouraging thing Kevin’s ever heard. He thrusts in faster, harder, and it feels so fucking good, even better than last time because he catches every detail, everything about Maxim that’s telling him Maxim loves this. When he feels himself getting close, he wraps a hand around Maxim’s leaking erection, and it’s only a few strokes before Maxim’s coming with a loud cry, taking Kevin over with him.
Kevin grabs a thrown-aside t-shirt off the floor to clean up with, and afterwards, he pauses, thinks of last time and waking up alone. Maxim scoots closer, though, looks up at him with something like puzzlement, and when Kevin opens his arms to Maxim, the confusion vanishes. Kevin never wants Maxim to wonder why aren’t you expecting to hold me, and his heart kind of breaks over the way Maxim expected it, like last time never happened.
“Did you like this time or last time better?” Maxim asks sleepily after he’s situated, one arm wrapped around Kevin.
“I loved both, baby, which did you like better?” He cards his fingers through Maxim’s hair, wonder what Maxim’s thinking.
“I don’t know,” Maxim eventually says, “I’d need, um. More. Again.” Kevin laughs, hugs him closer.
“Anytime you want, Maxi,” he says, the truest thing he’s ever said. Really, this is just what he does, waits for Maxim to want him. It’s sad, it’s slowly breaking him into pieces, but if he sometimes ends up with Maxim in his arms, he’ll be all right.
0o0o0o0o0o0oo
Alex is quiet. Over the years, it’s taken Ryan less and less time to figure out when Alex is being unnaturally quiet, and by now, it’s nearly instantaneous, before Alex even has a chance to skip things he would normally say. Recognising it has never made knowing what to do any easier, though, just gives him more time to feel like the worst friend in the world. Alex has been quiet through the entire flight so far, leaned against Ryan’s side like he’s going to sleep, even though he’s been awake this entire time. Ryan wants so badly to pull Alex into his arms and kiss him and ask him what’s wrong, what he can do to make it better, what will make Alex happy. He can’t, though, because everything he’s allowed to do, it’s only under that flimsy premise of practice. He hates it, all the things that aren’t really his, everything that keeps him from kissing Alex without any excuses, without needing an explanation.
He’s almost worked up a way to ask is something wrong without needing to kiss Alex after he says it, but by then, they’ve arrived and Alex is standing up, his warm weight suddenly gone from Ryan’s side. He’s less than talkative during dinner with the team, too - it puts him at a level of talkativeness level with everyone else, so Ryan knows it’s not that something happened, but Alex is thinking about something, probably over and over. It always bugs him, how no one notices, that while he’s dropping silverware and fumbling things because he’s so focused on worrying, no one else has noticed a thing, like Alex talking with long pauses isn’t wrong.
Some of the guys go out to some bar after dinner, and Ryan’s relieved when Alex looks at him hopefully, gives him a half smile. When Alex is asking want to go out with them?, his smile is more excited than soft like this.
“Wanna stay in?” he asks.
“Sure,” Alex says, smiles like Ryan’s got the right answer. They head back to their room, and after changing clothes, Ryan climbs onto Alex’s bed, turns on the TV. “Is anything on?” Alex asks, following and sitting next to him. He scoots so close their shoulders are touching, and Ryan only barely resists reaching over and squeezing his hand.
“There never really is. You see anything?” he asks. Alex shakes his head no, but doesn’t offer a list everything he’d rather watch. This isn’t like when he’s tired, because he’d still be talking, yawning and meandering. Ryan bumps his shoulder against Alex’s, smiles at him, the closest he can get to tell me what’s wrong. Alex smiles up at Ryan, some of the tense thoughtfulness gone from his face. Ryan lifts his arm to the pillow behind Alex, hopes Alex will scoot in to cuddle against his chest. Alex does, shifts over to curl in against Ryan’s side. Ryan wraps his arms around Alex, strokes his hair.
“I’ve wanted to do this all day,” he admits. It feels like confessing something big, like in saying this he’s told every thought he’s had today, because it was all so centered around the need to hold Alex, be allowed to love Alex the way he wants to. Alex wraps an arm around him, makes a sweet little sighing sound as Ryan strokes over his hair. “How’re you feeling?” he ventures, and it’s probably saying too much, declaring I know something’s wrong, but he just needs to know, to make sure Alex is okay. Alex snuggles in closer against him, settles his hand on Ryan’s side just at the edge of Ryan’s shirt, two fingers curled up under it.
“Good now,” Alex says softly. It’s not the most encouraging thing Ryan has ever heard, but at least Alex is now, and maybe - maybe some part of that has to do with Ryan. It’s probably just - because touch makes people feel better, but maybe it’s because it’s him.
“Were you… not feeling good before?” Ryan asks unsteadily. Alex doesn’t say anything, just traces his thumb over Ryan’s skin under his shirt. “Alex?” he kisses the top of Alex’s head, wants so badly to nuzzle at his neck and kiss his cheeks, wishes it would make Alex feel better.
“I’m okay,” Alex says, so soft, but it’s not him, and Ryan’s never been more afraid of anything than Alex being too quiet.
“What’s wrong babe? You’re never this quiet,” he strokes Alex’s back gently, wants to hug him too tight and kiss him better.
“When are you going to - to be doing it?” Alex asks, doesn’t lift his head from Ryan’s chest, “to be asking out this - guy?”
“I’m not going to ask him out,” Ryan says, “I can’t.”
“I’m so worried he’ll hurt you,” Alex nearly whispers, looks up at him with concerned eyes. Ryan laughs sadly; there’s no real way to tell Alex it’s you, you hurt me every day because you don’t love me and oh, God, I wish you did.
“It’s okay, you know?” he says, “I’d rather be hurt by him than not have him in my life at all. I’d rather that than being happy with someone else.” Because - he couldn’t be happy with someone else, that’s the thing. It’s been this way for so long, and the longer he knows Alex, the more he falls in love.
“You must love him a lot,” Alex says. Ryan hugs him tighter, doesn’t know how Alex still hasn’t seen it, because he’s just so bad at hiding how much he loves Alex.
“I love him more than anything. I love him so much.” It’s the closest he’ll ever come to telling Alex I love you, the most important thing he could ever say, as important as it is impossible. “Are you disappointed in me?” he asks abruptly, because Alex is still quiet.
“What?” Alex looks up at him, confused, “why? How could I be this?”
“Because I’m still not able to… tell him.” It’s just - this is the premise of every time he’s allowed to touch Alex. What if every day they practice, Alex is finding him more and more pathetic?
“No, I am understanding. It sounds very hard.” Alex smiles at him a little, and he’s just - just so fucking perfect, his sweet sympathy that Ryan doesn’t even deserve.
“I wish he would ask me out,” Ryan blurts out. He wishes Alex would do it for him, wishes Alex even wanted to. “When we’re together and he’s close to me… all I can even think is I love you so much, I wish you were mine.” He sighs out a breath, strokes over Alex’s hair gently. He wants to think I don’t know how much of this I can take, saying I love you to Alex with only invisible meaning, but he can’t think that; he’ll suffer this forever, there will never be a point when it’s too much to handle, because Alex is always worth even more than the pain he doesn’t know he causes. “I wonder if he even knows.”
“Maybe he is loving you so much, he finds it difficult too,” Alex offers. Ryan can only laugh, even though it’s so impossible it hurts.
“No way he ever could love me,” Ryan squeezes Alex tighter in his arms a little. “You never answered my question.”
“What is your question?”
“I asked why you’re so quiet today,” Ryan reminds him gently. He wants to kiss Alex for the sweet confusion on his face.
“Because, I worry for you and this guy, if he is hurting you,” Alex says, and it hurts, how caring he is.
“I’m okay. I don’t want my problems to make you unhappy.”
“Your problems don’t make me unhappy,” Alex says, looks up at Ryan like he needs to understand this, “you being sad, this does.”
“I’m not sad, babe,” Ryan murmurs, “I’m holding you.” There’s no way he can communicate the extent of that, how impossibly happy holding Alex makes him. It’s just - this is everything he wants. More than touching Alex all over, this is what he wants, to be the only one allowed to do this.
“That’s good,” Alex tilts his head back against Ryan’s chest, doesn’t say anything more.
“Is anything else bothering you?” Ryan asks, but Alex shakes his head no. Ryan scoots down a little, until he’s even with Alex. “Alex,” he says softly, “d’you know how important you are to me?” He just needs Alex to know this, hopes so desperately he’s not what’s bothering Alex. Just - what if Alex won’t want to let Ryan touch him anymore, now that he knows Ryan’s love is hopeless? What if Alex feels used by him? Because - because maybe it looks like that, he doesn’t know this is all Ryan wants, that he’s the only one.
Alex surprises him by kissing him, quick and soft, and it’s a few moments before Ryan can even breathe again. “Does that mean yes?” he asks hopefully, “tell me you know.” Alex nods, his gaze falling again. “Do you - want me to stop?” Ryan ventures. God, that would hurt, to give all this up, but upsetting Alex would hurt so, so much more.
“Stop?” Alex echoes, and - and it’s not please hold me forever, Ryan. But - he’s never said that, anyways. Maybe this is it, maybe this is where it ends, because Ryan never deserved him and doesn’t even have the pretense of it now. Alex was only ever letting Ryan hold him to practice kissing the imaginary guy; maybe Alex thinks it’s pointless, now that he knows Ryan could never go through with it. It’s heartbreaking, but - maybe worst of all, it’s not surprising.
“But… no,” Alex says, nearly a whimper, and suddenly, Ryan’s pulse is racing.
“You don’t want to stop?” he asks hopefully, smiles when Alex shakes his head no. He pulls Alex back into his arms, and he missed holding Alex, in the ten seconds that he wasn’t. “I don’t ever want to stop,” he admits quietly.
“Then so don’t,” Alex says, sounds like he means it.
“I don’t want to stop kissing you either.” Ryan really hopes he’ll be allowed to kiss Alex right now, just really needs to do it again.
“Good.” He can’t decipher the tone, it sounds almost like relief, and whatever it is, it’s good. Ryan leans in to kiss him, and maybe this is the best way, holding Alex in his arms and kissing him deep and slow.
“Alex, Alex, Alex,” he gasps out, loves the way Alex moans, “I love kissing you, Alex,” he just needs to be aware of it, over and over, that this is Alex, his Alex, impossibly, perfectly. “There’s nothing I’d rather do,” he breathes, something shaky and nervous expanding in his chest. God, he just can’t stop saying things when he has Alex like this, it just tears him open and has him confessing so much, because it feels so right, everything he feels needs to bracket it so it feels like it’s really his, even if just for the moment.
“Me too,” Alex says against his lips. Ryan can’t - just can’t believe it, but he wants to, he wants it to be true. But how can Alex not know? Ryan’s been in love with him for so long, aches to tell him, and it’s just so present, he doesn’t know how it isn’t immediately obvious.
Alex slips his hand up under Ryan’s shirt, strokes down his side. Just this little touch makes Ryan shiver, and he’s wanted to put his hand under Alex’s shirt to touch his bare back, but it felt too forward, but oh, maybe it’s okay. He dares to do it now, and the sound Alex makes is amazing. God, Alex is just - just the sweetest, so perfect, he must have been just designed to be loved, to be adored like nothing else. He must need it, just part of being as amazing as he is, and maybe that’s why he lets Ryan do something he so clearly doesn’t deserve. If Alex wasn’t wasting all his time being charitable and spending time with Ryan, though, he’d surely have someone who deserves him, who could satisfy that need for Alex and actually be good at it, who wouldn’t have to devise plans to just be allowed to kiss him. Ryan can’t imagine anyone on Alex’s level, but then again, he didn’t think someone like Alex even existed before they met, so maybe it’s just not something he’s even capable of imagining, he’s so firmly on a lower level than where Alex lives.
The sounds Alex makes are driving Ryan insane, he’s whimpering and squirming under Ryan’s hands, kissing him with growing urgency. It has Ryan’s dick throbbing between his legs, and he really wants to touch himself to relieve the ache of it, but maybe Alex would find that weird, and he wants so badly to be allowed to kiss him. He squirms uncomfortably when Alex makes that little breathy sound, and his boxers are surely sticky with precum by now.
“You drive me crazy, Alex,” he whimpers out, tries to stop his hips from twitching. Oh, God, he’s wearing shorts, it must be so obvious - “nothing’s ever turned me on the way you do,” he kisses Alex harder, moans when Alex licks into his mouth. And fuck, Alex has slipped a hand down to his own crotch, pressing the heel of his hands against his erection, and Ryan groans involuntarily, hot and breathing hard just from seeing this. So maybe that means it’s okay - not like he could keep his hands off himself, he’s so hard it hurts, leaking steadily now, because holy fuck, Alex just lights him on fire. He rubs his hand over himself through his shorts, but that just makes it worse, teasing and not enough. Alex moans like this is somehow turning him on, too, and oh, God, Ryan can’t handle it. He shoves a hand into his own shorts to wrap a hand around himself, groans in relief. It’s getting increasingly harder to breathe, but he still can’t stop kissing Alex, and when he slips a hand down the back of Alex’s shorts, Alex groans out something unintelligible, kisses him desperately. Fuck, it’s all so good, he’s getting so close - and then, Alex pushes Ryan’s hand aside and replaces it with his own, and oh, God, good gets even better. Ryan gasps, his hips jerking up involuntarily. All too soon, he cries out as his orgasm hits him hard, and he can’t help but dig his nails into Alex’s wrist, his ass, back arching as he comes.
“So hot, Ryan, tabarnakkk,” Alex groans, kisses him hard.
“Alex, please, please, fuck me,” he begs, “please.” Alex has to press his hand against the base of his own erection, draws in a quick, shallow breath.
“Oui,” he says hoarsely, “oui, je veux, je veux tellement-” he draws in a shaky breath, “attends, we need-” Ryan lets him slide off the bed, just tries to remember how to breathe as Alex grabs one of the little lotions from the bathroom. He manages to get his shirt and shorts off even though he can barely think straight, because Alex is really going to do it this time, and Ryan really, really wants it, so bad, he wants Alex to want him like that, oh, does he? He has to, he’s really going to do it - Alex comes back to the bed and quickly strips off his shirt and his shorts before he climbs onto the bed, pushes Ryan onto his back to kiss him soundly. “I can? “Alex asks in between kisses. Ryan nods, can’t manage any words at all. Alex tilts Ryan’s knees apart, settles in between his legs. He slicks up his fingers, pushes in one so slowly.
“Oh,” Ryan manages, “more, more-” Alex slides in another finger, moans softly as he fucks Ryan slowly with his fingers.
“Calisse, I can’t,” Alex groans, “I can’t-” his dick twitches, leaking liberally. Ryan reaches to pull Alex down to him, kisses him.
“You can,” he counters, gets a hand between them to wrap a hand around Alex’s erection.
“Oh, oh, tabarnaaak, Ryan,” Alex grinds out, “no, don’t touch me, I’ll - I’ll-” Ryan loves the neediness in his voice. He thumbs over the head of Alex’s dick and Alex moans deeply. “Je peux pas - last, Ryan, I can’t-”
Ryan whimpers when Alex takes his fingers away, but then Alex is shifting in closer to him, slicking himself up.
“Oh,” Alex groans as soon as the head of his dick touches Ryan’s entrance, but then he cries out, his hand tightening on Ryan’s hip as he comes suddenly, rubbing helplessly against Ryan, just sliding over his entrance teasingly. “Ryan,” he says quietly, breathless and hoarse, “I told you, this will happen, I’m sorry-” Ryan smiles, though, pulls Alex down and kisses him.
“Next time, then,” he says, doesn’t mind at all because next time, oh, he gets a next time. “it’s just impossible to keep my hands off of you,” he says, grins up at Alex, “I’ll try harder next time.
“Well, non,” Alex says, flushing pink, “you do not have to be doing that.”
“If that’s the only way I’m ever gonna get you to fuck me, that’s what I’ll do,” Ryan kisses him again, loves that Alex smiles now. “Difficult as it’ll be to not touch.” He kisses Alex once more before Alex goes to grab a towel. He kisses Ryan as he towels him off, so gentle and sweet Ryan could almost cry from it. Alex kisses Ryan’s bent-up knee before crawling back up the bed to lie down next to him. Ryan gathers Alex in close, kisses the tip of his nose.
“Sometimes I think we’d be great together,” Ryan whispers, terrified of the words the moment he says them. Alex looks away, ducks his head and curls in along Ryan’s side. “More than sometimes,” Ryan adds, barely a breath to the words. All the time, always, I just want you, no one else, not ever, he can’t say. Alex buries his face against Ryan’s chest, and it’s with a growing feeling of sickening dread that Ryan just knows he said something wrong.
“Alex?” he ventures uneasily. Alex isn’t - isn’t saying anything, Ryan shouldn’t have said that, shouldn’t, shouldn’t even want Alex this much.
“What?” Alex says, so quiet.
“What’re you thinking?” he doesn’t even know what to hope for, wants impossible things like he always does, but he’d settle for anything that means he hasn’t ruined everything, just to know that he didn’t somehow hurt Alex.
“I don’t know,” Alex mumbles, “I’m just. So tired. I can’t think.” That doesn’t make Ryan feel any better, not at all, because - because Alex isn’t being Alex. He’s quiet, so quiet, he’s not smiling and being sweet and happy about everything, he’s not talking at all, and Ryan doesn’t know what to do. Whatever it is, though, it’s his fault, he knows it, can’t stand that.
“I’m scared,” Ryan whispers, holding Alex tighter against him. Alex lifts his head, looks up at him, so worried.
“Why? Ryan, why?” He strokes Ryan’s side gently, looking up at him with concerned eyes. Ryan looks away, swallows hard.
“It feels like - like you’re mad at me, or disappointed in me, or tired of me.” Fuck, please, let it be none of these things. He doesn’t know which would hurt the most, and oh, he doesn’t want to find out, please let him never find out.
“Ryan, I could never be any of these things,” Alex says quietly, “I promise.” But - but Ryan can’t believe it, he can’t, because he fucked up somehow and Alex is so quiet and goddamnit, he’s not going to cry, he’s really not, but - but fuck, Alex has to be angry at him, or think he’s a failure or just not want him anymore.
“Then why are you being so quiet today?” he asks, and his voice trembles, but he’s not going to cry, he’s not.
“Because, I telled you, I am so worried about you and this guy,” Alex says, touches one hand to Ryan’s cheek gently, “I want you to be happy, and I’m just worried for you, how sad it makes you.” He’s - fuck, he’s perfect, the sweetest person Ryan’s ever known, and God, he wishes Alex wanted him back.
“Please don’t worry,” he pleads, “I’m okay, really. He makes me happy a lot more than he makes me sad. He’s the best thing in my life.”
“That’s good,” Alex says softly. Ryan waits, doesn’t know what to do, just forces himself not to cry and waits for Alex to be Alex again. Alex doesn’t say anything more, though, just scoots back in close, buries his face against Ryan’s chest.
“Do you believe me?” Ryan asks. “I’m okay, Alex. Do you believe me?”
“Yeah,” Alex leans up a little to kiss Ryan’s jaw, just a soft brush of his lips. “Of course.”
“He’d never do anything to hurt me,” Ryan promises, and it hurts, telling Alex this is all the things you are to me, perfect, just perfect. “He’s so sweet to me, he’s - just perfect. I love him so much,” he says softly.
“Ryan,” Alex breathes out, “you deserve someone like this, who is perfect.” Ryan can only laugh, because there’s just no way he deserves Alex, he’s done nothing that could make him deserve perfection.
“Yeah, well, I don’t,” he says, hugs Alex tight against him, “but thanks for saying that.” He kisses the top of Alex’s head, wants so badly to kiss him everywhere, beg tell me what I could do to deserve you, I just love you so much. “You sleepy?” he asks. Alex nods, mumbles a little affirmative sound. “Let’s get under the covers,” he suggests, already tugging at them. Alex crawls under the covers, never stops touching Ryan as he does so. Ryan pulls Alex in close again, just loves this, always having Alex in his bed, something amazing that’s somehow his now.
“Goodnight, Alex,” he says softly, kisses Alex when he looks up like this is what he’s asking for. He’s not really tired, but he tries to be quiet so Alex can sleep. He just wants to stay up all night to memorise this, doesn’t want to miss out on even a moment of Alex in his arms. Ryan doesn’t know how this is his, how he’s lucky enough to feel Alex fall asleep in his arms and burrow in close against him, make whimpering little sounds until Ryan strokes his back gently. Somehow, Ryan has almost everything he’s ever wanted, and he may never hear Alex say I love you, say I’m yours forever, but at least he has this, at least he has something, and with Alex, he loves every little thing.