Explosions in the Sky (Schuyler/Kyle/Oliver) *WIP*
Story Title: Explosions in the Sky - Chapter Five (*WIP*)
Author's Name: rhombus_
Pairing: Schuyler/Kyle/Oliver
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: non-canon pairing
Summary: Summer/Fall 2009. Subtract Nick, add Schuyler.
Disclaimer: Characters ≠ mine.
Previous Parts:
Chapter One - Sauna Me
Chapter Two - Space/Time
Chapter Three - Experience: Part 1
Chapter Four - Experience: Part 2
Chapter Five - Bad Habits
Schuyler
That night at Rodi's, he'd told Kyle they should take things slow, whatever 'things' turned out to be. Kyle had agreed. Schuyler had definitely meant it, too.
At the time.
It had seemed like the right choice.
At the time.
Now he was thinking: Maybe not so much. Because all it had managed to do was trap Kyle under his skin. An itch he couldn't quite scratch. Every time he walked up the stairs of the ASH, every time he turned a corner, every time he closed his eyes... he thought about him. And it was damn annoying.
He tried throwing himself into his work, and it was a good distraction, at least during business hours. But as soon as that metaphorical steam whistle blew, he was all hot and bothered again.
Kyle was pretty much the first thing on his mind in the mornings, and the last thing he pictured at night. Plenty of evenings had been spent remembering their heated encounter in the steam room. God, how he'd hated Kyle then. Didn't make the experience any less satisfying. In fact, it had bettered his enjoyment. And reliving it with nothing but himself as a companion was not getting the job done.
If only he had gotten Kyle out of his system when he'd had the chance, then and there, on his couch with Ed Wood as a completely non-sexy but vaguely appropriate backdrop, this wouldn't have been a problem. He shouldn't have balked. Stupid, rookie mistake.
Now he was pinned under thoughts he couldn't control, helpless, and he hated the feeling.
It wasn't anything personal, though. He knew his mind's own traps. His own failings. It was all just a little too much like when he'd been consumed in the guilt of his mother's failings, caused mostly by his own stupid mistakes, and how that got all wrapped up with Starr Manning and wanting to right his mother's wrongs to somehow right his own wrongs and screwing it all up in the worst possible way like he probably should have known he would.
And always, in the back of his head, gnawing away like a starved monkey, was Vegas.
"Hey."
Schuyler jumped out of his chair at the sound Rachel's concerned voiced.
"What are you still doing here?" she asked. "Didn't your shift end-" She checked her watch. "-an hour ago?"
"Hmm?" If he looked as stupid as he sounded, he was in trouble.
"Uh oh," Rachel said, in that voice that knew things and was just unfair all around for the rest of the human race.
"What?"
"You're obsessing."
"Am... not." Good lord. He'd forgotten language.
"You, young man, need to get that girl out of your head." She walked over and playfully flicked him on the temple.
Sky opened his mouth to protest, but it just stayed there, a big, gaping hole in his head. "Oh. Um. Yeah. Gigi. Totally. Any, uh, suggestions?"
"You're in a rehab center, Sky. Pick a wall. You're sure to find some useful information on it somewhere."
"It's not like that," he said, a little too quickly. How to explain, without giving anything away? "It's more like... like chewing on your nails. You don't even know you're doing it, but you can't stop."
"Wow. Romantic. No wonder you're so happily in love."
"Shut up," he laughed. "And what about you and your overcrowded love life, hmm?"
He wasn't sure if his blatant attempt at changing the subject would work this time. It hardly ever had in the past. But Rachel just sighed, and sat miserably in his recently vacated chair.
"You wanna tell me all about it?" he asked, taking a seat on the couch. She looked up at him with a wry smile and warm, grateful eyes.
***
Talking with Rachel had been good. He'd been able to focus on something other than his own problems. It was like an extension of work, but without all the pressure of feeling like he could fail a fragile, messed up kid like Cole Thornhart or those like him at any moment.
But once they were down on the street and she walked away with a wave of the hand and a short goodbye, Sky was stuck again. Nowhere to go but home (where just the sight of his couch made him freeze in his tracks), nothing to do but think (and think about the man who'd been on his couch), and no one to talk to (why hadn't he made more friends in this town?).
The night was almost-warm and very balmy, and the walk back to the ASH a little too short. He climbed the stairs and stared at his door. The hallway was empty. No footsteps, no ambient noises at all. His eye caught the shiny reflection of the gold 15 just down the hall.
Stop it.
But he hesitated outside his door. Glanced down the hall again. If he didn't know better, he'd say he was waiting for something. Or someone. But he did know better. And that was totally not what he was doing. He was just spacing out for a little bit, but not in a druggy sort of way. In a it's-been-a-long-day-and-I'm-tired sort of way.
Except he wasn't all that tired. Physically, anyway. His heels were actually... Yep. They were bouncing.
"God... damn it," he muttered to himself before quickly storming down the hall. He stopped in front of Kyle's door, then remembered himself. It was a very short walk back to his own door, the key slipped in nice and easy, the door swung open on what seemed like newly oiled hinges. At last. He was home. Home sweet home. Couch sweet couch.
No sooner had his rear end hit the cushions than he sprang right back up, flew out the door, down the hall, and was in front of room 15 again. There was a rushing sound, like the loud thumping of music in his head, or maybe it was just the beat of his heart pounding in time with his fist on the door.
He hoped like hell Kyle wasn't home and this madness would pass before anyone was the wiser.
The door opened. Kyle looked at him with a lazy sort of stunned expression.
"Schuyler?"
"Hey," Sky said, still bouncing. "Can we talk?"
"Sure," Kyle said, gesturing him in. And then-oh, the bastard-then he smiled a lovely, sweet, un-Kyle-ish smile that completely melted Sky's resolve and talking became the very last thing he wanted to do.
"What's u-?" Kyle didn't get the chance to finish because Schuyler was all over him. Hands in his hair, tongue invading his mouth, teeth bumping, fingers grabbing wildly at fabric. It was madness, pure madness, and he smiled like a maniac when Kyle kissed him back and started tugging his clothes off too.
"Slow wasn't doing it for you, then?" Kyle murmured.
"Either is talking," Sky said, then attacked his mouth again. Which was kind of a lie, because that super low, purring quality to Kyle's voice hadn't gone unappreciated.
It was an ungraceful undressing and tussle to the bed, fueled by lust and desperation on Sky's part. And on Kyle's? Well, Sky wasn't quite sure. Kyle kissed him back as fiercely, was just as desperate to unbuckle Sky's belt as he was Kyle's, but had he been plagued by the same constant thoughts, the overwhelming hunger, the uncontrollable need that had taken hold of Sky over the past week? Or was this just a lark? A challenge? Or worse, nothing more than loneliness consumed by the nearest body of warmth?
Sky broke from the kiss, breathing hard. His hands still gripped the waistband of Kyle's pants. He kept his chin down and stared at the floor, trying to reign in his wild thoughts, gather control of himself again, maybe salvage whatever was left of his dignity and his sanity...
Kyle touched him softly on the cheek, urging him to look up.
He didn't expect to see warmth staring back at him. Confusion, yes, that was there too, and entirely predictable, but it was wrapped in a cloud of concern.
Sky shook his head because words escaped him and Kyle frowned but that wasn't what he meant at all so he used his lips to communicate that yes, this is what I want, don't mind me and my neuroses, and pressed them against Kyle's once more. This time a little less recklessly. With a little more meaning to match Kyle's own.
Fingers found their way to clothes again, and clothes found their way to the floor. Sky's back hit the mattress and he pushed himself back until his head reached the pillow and brought Kyle along with him.
This was a new kind of madness, just as urgent but not as distressing. He didn't like Kyle any greater than he had this morning, but it felt damn good to run his fingers up his warm side and to have that insistent mouth pull so temptingly against his. It was the frenzied emotions of the steam room combined with the slow-building familiarity of their go on his couch. Kyle was starting to feel... comfortable to him, his breaths and the feel of his skin and the way he would hang on to a kiss just an extra millisecond longer than expected.
Sky didn't know if he was ready to feel that kind of comfort with Kyle, of all people, but he didn't care anymore. All that mattered was that there was still fabric between them that needed to get gone fast. He started wriggling out of his underpants and Kyle's hand pushed under the waistband, helping them along. He was already hard and the touch of Kyle's fingers against his thigh sent even more blood pumping south. When Kyle's mouth descended his chest, his stomach, his pelvis, Sky's eyelids fluttered open and closed.
Kyle was clearly on a mission because he didn't waste any time getting to the main attraction. He kissed and sucked at the skin all along the shaft, finding and teasing a particularly sensitive vein on the underside. Sky made a noise then that surprised himself. It was the sigh of a man truly content, a bluebird on his shoulder as he sits with his back against a shade-tree. It must have surprised Kyle, too, because he stopped for a moment and glanced up with those dark, devilish eyes.
There was a smirk on his lips and victory in his gaze. "Let me show you how it's done." He wasn't even sure if Kyle had actually said it, but it didn't matter. It was written plain across his Cheshire-grinned face before he descended once more.
Sky let his head fall back and breathed out an unbelieving laugh.
That smug, cocksure bastard. They were still competing.
But, really, he'd sooner marry Rex than complain about a blowjob from someone who was clearly-"Fuck... fucking... yes."-clearly skilled at the task. Sky's eyes rolled back in his head and he reached behind him to grip the headboard or a pillow or anything at all it didn't matter nothing mattered not even breathing jesuschristsogood why hadn't they been doing this forever?
His thoughts tumbled all together and he gave up trying to separate them because Kyle was between his legs and his lips and tongue and fist were doing incredibly amazing things and thinking was not important to the proceedings at all.
Kyle worked him and worked him and worked him until he was ready to admit that Kyle had bested him. Fuck-he was halfway to admitting that Kyle had bested the whole damn world at giving head.
And it was enough to finally snap some sense back into his head-the one he used for thinking.
It would be so easy to give in and hand over the victory, but he wasn't gonna let that happen.
Kyle may have thought he won this round, but Sky still had his ace in the hole.
...So to speak.
***
Kyle
Kyle wasn't sure what was happening or why when Schuyler pulled away from him and started scooting further up the bed. It was probably better to just go with the flow as far as Schuyler was concerned. The guy had serious impulse control problems, which had led to some unpleasant and very pleasant confrontations in the past.
He watched, just a little bit dumbfounded, as Schuyler knelt at the top of the bed, his back to Kyle, exposing the long, tanned expanse of his body and perfectly shaped rear end.
"What are you-?"
"Do you have what we need?" Schuyler asked.
"What we need?" He knew he sounded like the village idiot, but Schuyler had caught him a little off guard.
"What we need if you're gonna fuck me right now."
Okay. A lot off guard. A noise came from Kyle's throat-or deeper than that, really; probably more like his stomach-that put a cagey smile on Schuyler's face.
He had to admit though, as all the blood rushed from everywhere to throw a kickass party downstairs, that he really liked this side of Schuyler. Not just the backside, but the hidden pushy bottom he'd apparently been keeping under wraps this whole time.
Plus, he needed this after the shitty day he'd had, and all the shitty news it'd brought with it. As he reached for the lube and condoms from his bedside drawer, he shoved the letter from LU-topped with the med school's dean's office letterhead-into the drawer in its place. Out of sight, out of mind.
With Schuyler impatiently waiting for him, he pushed away all of the day's defeats. It was something of a vice he'd fallen into over the years, he knew, but when the opportunity arose to smother the disappointments of the Pathetic Life of Kyle Lewis with some sweaty, hot sex, who was he to say no?
Some small part of him, quiet yet still annoying, whispered in his ear that it was... different with Schuyler somehow.
He thought back to their last encounter, how Schuyler had pulled away, almost as if he were scared.
He crawled up behind Schuyler and pressed an open-mouthed kiss on his shoulder.
"You don't have anything to prove to me, you know," he said.
"I know, Kyle."
"You're sure you want to...?"
Why the fuck was he trying to talk Schuyler out of this? Luckily, Schuyler saved him from his own sabotage.
"Told you," he breathed out, eying Kyle over shoulder with that same secretive smile. "Not my first time."
The deep dark blackness of his eyes and the wanton look in them snuffed out the sabotage right quick.
"We both know you're not some white knight," Schuyler continued lowly, "so you can quit acting like one. Now stop wasting my time before I put my clothes back on and walk out of here."
Fine then. Schuyler thought he was in charge here? That he was ready for everything Kyle could give him? Well, Kyle would give it to him all right, and leave him begging for more when it was all done.
He started slow, though, easing in to Schuyler and keeping a slow pace that would hold them both off for a while. Schuyler gripped the headboard with his hands and made appreciative noises, little grunts and words of encouragement, demanding Kyle "get to it already" and speed up or push in harder. But Kyle kept his pace steady. He reached forward and covered one of Schuyler's hands with his own, locking their fingers tight, while his other arm gripped Schuyler around the waist, holding their bodies close as he just barely pumped in and out.
On one unexpected and intense upward thrust, Schuyler let out a short gasp of pain. Kyle eased back gently and his hand drifted down to Schuyler's still-hard erection, giving it a few sure-fisted tugs to help distract from any lingering discomfort. Schuyler looked back at him with something like astonishment in his eyes. Almost like he had been expecting a further barrage of pain, rather than added pleasure.
Stacy must have done some real numbers on the guy.
He worked Schuyler's erection in a steady pumping motion, just slightly off the rhythm of his thrusts. Schuyler's breaths deepened and his gasps turned into low, growly moans. Kyle worked him until he felt Schuyler was close, very, very close, then abruptly stopped. Both his hand and his hips. Schuyler whimpered, much to Kyle's delight. He knew he could get him to beg.
But Kyle wasn't done with him yet.
In one swift action he had them flipped over on the mattress. Schuyler buried a groan into the sheets as Kyle buried himself deeper into Schuyler.
They switched positions a few more times, always at the moment just before Schuyler's imminent release. With each new angle Schuyler made a noise somewhere in between a moan and a delighted gasp, which convinced Kyle that Stacy hadn't been all that creative with her toy.
Kyle sat with his back propped against the pillows, Schuyler sitting on his lap away from him, allowing Schuyler to finally control the pace of their lovemaking. For at least a little while, anyway. Schuyler took advantage of it, bouncing on Kyle like he was the world's sexiest trampoline.
But Kyle was still in control. He maneuvered them once again. This time he lay on his back, Schuyler's stretched full across him, back-to-chest. Kyle kept both arms gripped securely around Schuyler's torso, pinning their upper bodies together while their lower halves bucked up off the mattress with reckless abandon. Judging by Schuyler's increasingly higher pitched groans, he liked this arrangement best so far. Kyle wasn't about to give him he wanted, though. Not yet. But soon. He moved them one last time, limbs bumping and lips meeting in a clumsy, lust-filled haze.
They ended up face to face, Schuyler on his back, his legs curled up behind Kyle. Which Kyle liked a lot, because it afforded easier access to Schuyler's mouth. He enjoyed kissing in general, and kissing Schuyler in particular. Something about his unrestrained, almost angry desperation was enticing beyond belief. That someone could be so desperate for him, again, after all these years, heated him up all over, made him thrust in harder, faster-finally-with a desperation to match Schuyler's own. He felt Schuyler's toes curl behind him, heard the hitching in his breath, knew he had found the right spot, knew Schuyler was oh so close to coming undone beneath him. He didn't stop this time.
Release came swift and hard. Schuyler's mouth opened wide and his eyes rolled back. Kyle leaned in and kissed his open mouth through his climax, tasting those warm gasps like honey on his tongue. Schuyler grabbed him roughly by the face, kissing him hard. He bit down on Kyle's lower lip, and it was enough to send Kyle crashing over the edge too.
Everything blurred out. For a few precious moments he was no longer Pathetic Kyle Lewis, blackmailer and former med student. He was Just Kyle, just a man who had satisfied another man to the point of silly, blissful looking grins. It had been so long since he'd felt that way. He liked being Just Kyle again for those few moments of afterglow. He liked it more than he could possibly say.
"Kyle..." Schuyler murmured, sounding half-asleep. Or just thoroughly, masterfully fulfilled.
"So," Kyle said, grinning; "on a scale of One to Stacy, where do I stack up?"
"Shut up," Schuyler chuckled.
"What? I really want to know."
"You already know, you smug bastard." Said almost like a coo.
"Yeah," Kyle agreed. "I kicked her ass."
Schuyler laughed a pretty amazing laugh and then he was on top of Kyle and they were kissing again.
There was something soft in Schuyler's kisses now, something vulnerable and sweet. Kyle thought he understood. Here was a man like him, lost and little bit broken and rejected by life. Both with past mistakes and ruined careers. Not quite knowing where they belonged. No family. Uncertain futures.
There was a connection forming, and he wasn't quite sure he wanted it. The last time he'd felt this way, on the precipice of something new and frightening and exhilarating, had been with Oliver. And lord knew that had not ended well. A total crushing defeat, more like. He never wanted to go through that again. Letting someone in and watching helplessly as they walked away with a bleeding chunk of his heart.
Not that he was in love with Schuyler.
But he was in very serious danger of growing attached to him.
***
Schuyler
"You're staring," Schuyler said. They were lying side by side in bed. The room was warm and dewy and it felt kind of great. "Do I have something on my face?"
"No, no. Nothing." Was Kyle blushing? "Sorry. Bad habit, I guess." The smallest of grins curled his lips.
Sky didn't actually mind. He was staring every bit as much as Kyle. Not that he'd admit as much.
"So... what's your deal, Schuyler?" Kyle said.
"My deal?"
"I mean, you obviously have no problem sleeping with men." He gestured casually between them.
"Obviously."
"And you've been with women."
"So?"
"So... I mean, do the women know? Does anyone know?"
"Stacy knows." So did a few other unsavory types from his old life.
"Does her sister know?"
A long silence settled between them, broken only by Kyle's good-natured scoff.
"I'm taking that as a no."
"It... never came up."
Kyle smirked. "I'll bet."
"I don't go around advertising it. But I don't exactly lie about it, either."
"Hmm."
Kyle had that distant look in his eyes again. The one that Sky was pretty sure he was starting to dislike. A lot. He'd figured out what it meant. What Kyle was thinking about. Who Kyle was thinking about. He still wasn't sure how much he liked Kyle, but he knew he liked Silent-Pining-Kyle less than the rest of him.
"So what's your deal, Kyle?" He nudged Kyle with a knee. It seemed to break the spell because Kyle was grinning again.
"You mean, how did I get to be such an amazing catch you can't keep your hands off of?"
Sky looked down and noticed with slight disturbance that he was indeed stroking Kyle's arm absently. He didn't stop, though. But he still felt the need to sting back.
"That, or, you know, the whole criminal rap sheet thing."
Kyle sighed, looking annoyed a few moments before sobering. "You know I was serious, right? That if Shane ever got sick again, I'd help in any way I could?"
"For a price."
"Whatever, man." He moved to get up, but Sky's hand landed strong on his arm, stopping him. Which was kind of a rascally thing for his hand to do without his permission like that.
"Hey, wait. I..." He considered his words, then settled on the truth. "I believe you."
"Look, I'm sorry. All I have are apologies, okay? I know I hurt people. I was desperate. I had no place to live, no money, no future... Not that I have one now, either."
"I thought you were in med school."
Kyle's mouth tensed. "Found out earlier. Got a letter from the dean's office. Disciplinary Probation. Indefinite, as far as I can tell. Not that I could afford tuition anyway, but still." He turned toward Sky and propped himself up on an elbow. "You know what's really messed up? Jessica Brennan, the woman who let me remind you stole a baby, and the people who helped her cover it up? They got off scot-free. Not even a slap on the wrist. Because they're Buchanans. Because they're important," he sneered.
Schuyler didn't offer him anything. No consolation or commiseration for his past misdeeds or the unfairness of Llanview's special brand of classism and nepotism-even if he felt it, just the tiniest bit, tugging at his ribs.
"I mean, I'm not," Kyle continued, on his back again, talking mostly to the ceiling. "Important. I wanted to be. I almost was, once."
"Yeah?" Sky said quietly, because Kyle's sadness intrigued him.
"Or I felt like I was, you know. And then..." He sighed, and it sounded both wistful and miserable. "And then I didn't anymore. Just like that."
"Med school?" Schuyler ventured again, even though he was pretty sure that wasn't what Kyle was talking about at all.
A short pause, then a very quiet, "Right."
Sky didn't believe him anymore than Kyle expected him to.
"Just another bad habit," Kyle said, not caring or noticing that it didn't follow the flimsy pretense they were both trying to keep upright.
For such a cocksure bastard, Kyle sure did seem to have some serious self-esteem issues. Schuyler offered up a distraction in the form of a kiss, but Kyle's eyes were glazed over and distant.
"Should I-" He cleared his throat, tried again. "Should I go?"
Kyle's eyes focused then, and he looked a little panicked, much to Sky's unforeseen pleasure.
"You don't have to," he said. "You could... stay?"
"All right," Sky said, suppressing a smile.
"We could have that talk you wanted when you first showed up."
Schuyler chuckled. "Yeahhhhhh. About that."
"What?"
"An elaborate ruse."
***
They didn't exactly cuddle. Neither of them seemed quite ready for that, but it was nice to have a warm body next to him in bed. He could count the number of times he'd been in that situation-sober-on one hand.
Despite his earlier theory, sleeping with Kyle hadn't exactly cleared him out of his system. He wasn't constantly dogged with wants and needs and urges all wrapped up in Kyle's smile and his smell and the feel of his hands. They were tempered now, but only because they were well fed. They'd be hungry again in the morning, but not starved, and maybe that was the difference. Maybe this could actually... work. Sleeping with Kyle had certainly released a lot of his pent up tension. And now he knew exactly how to scratch that itch if (when) it ever (absolutely) returned.
He glanced over. Kyle's lips were turned down in the slightest hint of a frown, even in his sleep. Something about that felt off to Sky. Like maybe there was more to this itch that he thought.
Schuyler reached for Kyle and tugged his sleeping body close. Kyle murmured some sort of sleep-babble, but happily, it sounded. Sky pulled him closer still. He smelled like hickory and danger and salt. Sky didn't know what was compelling him. It must've been some force working outside of his control, because he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Kyle's neck.
"You're important," he whispered.
(...TBC...)
Chapter Six - Butterfly Seven
Author's Name: rhombus_
Pairing: Schuyler/Kyle/Oliver
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: non-canon pairing
Summary: Summer/Fall 2009. Subtract Nick, add Schuyler.
Disclaimer: Characters ≠ mine.
Previous Parts:
Chapter One - Sauna Me
Chapter Two - Space/Time
Chapter Three - Experience: Part 1
Chapter Four - Experience: Part 2
Chapter Five - Bad Habits
Schuyler
That night at Rodi's, he'd told Kyle they should take things slow, whatever 'things' turned out to be. Kyle had agreed. Schuyler had definitely meant it, too.
At the time.
It had seemed like the right choice.
At the time.
Now he was thinking: Maybe not so much. Because all it had managed to do was trap Kyle under his skin. An itch he couldn't quite scratch. Every time he walked up the stairs of the ASH, every time he turned a corner, every time he closed his eyes... he thought about him. And it was damn annoying.
He tried throwing himself into his work, and it was a good distraction, at least during business hours. But as soon as that metaphorical steam whistle blew, he was all hot and bothered again.
Kyle was pretty much the first thing on his mind in the mornings, and the last thing he pictured at night. Plenty of evenings had been spent remembering their heated encounter in the steam room. God, how he'd hated Kyle then. Didn't make the experience any less satisfying. In fact, it had bettered his enjoyment. And reliving it with nothing but himself as a companion was not getting the job done.
If only he had gotten Kyle out of his system when he'd had the chance, then and there, on his couch with Ed Wood as a completely non-sexy but vaguely appropriate backdrop, this wouldn't have been a problem. He shouldn't have balked. Stupid, rookie mistake.
Now he was pinned under thoughts he couldn't control, helpless, and he hated the feeling.
It wasn't anything personal, though. He knew his mind's own traps. His own failings. It was all just a little too much like when he'd been consumed in the guilt of his mother's failings, caused mostly by his own stupid mistakes, and how that got all wrapped up with Starr Manning and wanting to right his mother's wrongs to somehow right his own wrongs and screwing it all up in the worst possible way like he probably should have known he would.
And always, in the back of his head, gnawing away like a starved monkey, was Vegas.
"Hey."
Schuyler jumped out of his chair at the sound Rachel's concerned voiced.
"What are you still doing here?" she asked. "Didn't your shift end-" She checked her watch. "-an hour ago?"
"Hmm?" If he looked as stupid as he sounded, he was in trouble.
"Uh oh," Rachel said, in that voice that knew things and was just unfair all around for the rest of the human race.
"What?"
"You're obsessing."
"Am... not." Good lord. He'd forgotten language.
"You, young man, need to get that girl out of your head." She walked over and playfully flicked him on the temple.
Sky opened his mouth to protest, but it just stayed there, a big, gaping hole in his head. "Oh. Um. Yeah. Gigi. Totally. Any, uh, suggestions?"
"You're in a rehab center, Sky. Pick a wall. You're sure to find some useful information on it somewhere."
"It's not like that," he said, a little too quickly. How to explain, without giving anything away? "It's more like... like chewing on your nails. You don't even know you're doing it, but you can't stop."
"Wow. Romantic. No wonder you're so happily in love."
"Shut up," he laughed. "And what about you and your overcrowded love life, hmm?"
He wasn't sure if his blatant attempt at changing the subject would work this time. It hardly ever had in the past. But Rachel just sighed, and sat miserably in his recently vacated chair.
"You wanna tell me all about it?" he asked, taking a seat on the couch. She looked up at him with a wry smile and warm, grateful eyes.
***
Talking with Rachel had been good. He'd been able to focus on something other than his own problems. It was like an extension of work, but without all the pressure of feeling like he could fail a fragile, messed up kid like Cole Thornhart or those like him at any moment.
But once they were down on the street and she walked away with a wave of the hand and a short goodbye, Sky was stuck again. Nowhere to go but home (where just the sight of his couch made him freeze in his tracks), nothing to do but think (and think about the man who'd been on his couch), and no one to talk to (why hadn't he made more friends in this town?).
The night was almost-warm and very balmy, and the walk back to the ASH a little too short. He climbed the stairs and stared at his door. The hallway was empty. No footsteps, no ambient noises at all. His eye caught the shiny reflection of the gold 15 just down the hall.
Stop it.
But he hesitated outside his door. Glanced down the hall again. If he didn't know better, he'd say he was waiting for something. Or someone. But he did know better. And that was totally not what he was doing. He was just spacing out for a little bit, but not in a druggy sort of way. In a it's-been-a-long-day-and-I'm-tired sort of way.
Except he wasn't all that tired. Physically, anyway. His heels were actually... Yep. They were bouncing.
"God... damn it," he muttered to himself before quickly storming down the hall. He stopped in front of Kyle's door, then remembered himself. It was a very short walk back to his own door, the key slipped in nice and easy, the door swung open on what seemed like newly oiled hinges. At last. He was home. Home sweet home. Couch sweet couch.
No sooner had his rear end hit the cushions than he sprang right back up, flew out the door, down the hall, and was in front of room 15 again. There was a rushing sound, like the loud thumping of music in his head, or maybe it was just the beat of his heart pounding in time with his fist on the door.
He hoped like hell Kyle wasn't home and this madness would pass before anyone was the wiser.
The door opened. Kyle looked at him with a lazy sort of stunned expression.
"Schuyler?"
"Hey," Sky said, still bouncing. "Can we talk?"
"Sure," Kyle said, gesturing him in. And then-oh, the bastard-then he smiled a lovely, sweet, un-Kyle-ish smile that completely melted Sky's resolve and talking became the very last thing he wanted to do.
"What's u-?" Kyle didn't get the chance to finish because Schuyler was all over him. Hands in his hair, tongue invading his mouth, teeth bumping, fingers grabbing wildly at fabric. It was madness, pure madness, and he smiled like a maniac when Kyle kissed him back and started tugging his clothes off too.
"Slow wasn't doing it for you, then?" Kyle murmured.
"Either is talking," Sky said, then attacked his mouth again. Which was kind of a lie, because that super low, purring quality to Kyle's voice hadn't gone unappreciated.
It was an ungraceful undressing and tussle to the bed, fueled by lust and desperation on Sky's part. And on Kyle's? Well, Sky wasn't quite sure. Kyle kissed him back as fiercely, was just as desperate to unbuckle Sky's belt as he was Kyle's, but had he been plagued by the same constant thoughts, the overwhelming hunger, the uncontrollable need that had taken hold of Sky over the past week? Or was this just a lark? A challenge? Or worse, nothing more than loneliness consumed by the nearest body of warmth?
Sky broke from the kiss, breathing hard. His hands still gripped the waistband of Kyle's pants. He kept his chin down and stared at the floor, trying to reign in his wild thoughts, gather control of himself again, maybe salvage whatever was left of his dignity and his sanity...
Kyle touched him softly on the cheek, urging him to look up.
He didn't expect to see warmth staring back at him. Confusion, yes, that was there too, and entirely predictable, but it was wrapped in a cloud of concern.
Sky shook his head because words escaped him and Kyle frowned but that wasn't what he meant at all so he used his lips to communicate that yes, this is what I want, don't mind me and my neuroses, and pressed them against Kyle's once more. This time a little less recklessly. With a little more meaning to match Kyle's own.
Fingers found their way to clothes again, and clothes found their way to the floor. Sky's back hit the mattress and he pushed himself back until his head reached the pillow and brought Kyle along with him.
This was a new kind of madness, just as urgent but not as distressing. He didn't like Kyle any greater than he had this morning, but it felt damn good to run his fingers up his warm side and to have that insistent mouth pull so temptingly against his. It was the frenzied emotions of the steam room combined with the slow-building familiarity of their go on his couch. Kyle was starting to feel... comfortable to him, his breaths and the feel of his skin and the way he would hang on to a kiss just an extra millisecond longer than expected.
Sky didn't know if he was ready to feel that kind of comfort with Kyle, of all people, but he didn't care anymore. All that mattered was that there was still fabric between them that needed to get gone fast. He started wriggling out of his underpants and Kyle's hand pushed under the waistband, helping them along. He was already hard and the touch of Kyle's fingers against his thigh sent even more blood pumping south. When Kyle's mouth descended his chest, his stomach, his pelvis, Sky's eyelids fluttered open and closed.
Kyle was clearly on a mission because he didn't waste any time getting to the main attraction. He kissed and sucked at the skin all along the shaft, finding and teasing a particularly sensitive vein on the underside. Sky made a noise then that surprised himself. It was the sigh of a man truly content, a bluebird on his shoulder as he sits with his back against a shade-tree. It must have surprised Kyle, too, because he stopped for a moment and glanced up with those dark, devilish eyes.
There was a smirk on his lips and victory in his gaze. "Let me show you how it's done." He wasn't even sure if Kyle had actually said it, but it didn't matter. It was written plain across his Cheshire-grinned face before he descended once more.
Sky let his head fall back and breathed out an unbelieving laugh.
That smug, cocksure bastard. They were still competing.
But, really, he'd sooner marry Rex than complain about a blowjob from someone who was clearly-"Fuck... fucking... yes."-clearly skilled at the task. Sky's eyes rolled back in his head and he reached behind him to grip the headboard or a pillow or anything at all it didn't matter nothing mattered not even breathing jesuschristsogood why hadn't they been doing this forever?
His thoughts tumbled all together and he gave up trying to separate them because Kyle was between his legs and his lips and tongue and fist were doing incredibly amazing things and thinking was not important to the proceedings at all.
Kyle worked him and worked him and worked him until he was ready to admit that Kyle had bested him. Fuck-he was halfway to admitting that Kyle had bested the whole damn world at giving head.
And it was enough to finally snap some sense back into his head-the one he used for thinking.
It would be so easy to give in and hand over the victory, but he wasn't gonna let that happen.
Kyle may have thought he won this round, but Sky still had his ace in the hole.
...So to speak.
***
Kyle
Kyle wasn't sure what was happening or why when Schuyler pulled away from him and started scooting further up the bed. It was probably better to just go with the flow as far as Schuyler was concerned. The guy had serious impulse control problems, which had led to some unpleasant and very pleasant confrontations in the past.
He watched, just a little bit dumbfounded, as Schuyler knelt at the top of the bed, his back to Kyle, exposing the long, tanned expanse of his body and perfectly shaped rear end.
"What are you-?"
"Do you have what we need?" Schuyler asked.
"What we need?" He knew he sounded like the village idiot, but Schuyler had caught him a little off guard.
"What we need if you're gonna fuck me right now."
Okay. A lot off guard. A noise came from Kyle's throat-or deeper than that, really; probably more like his stomach-that put a cagey smile on Schuyler's face.
He had to admit though, as all the blood rushed from everywhere to throw a kickass party downstairs, that he really liked this side of Schuyler. Not just the backside, but the hidden pushy bottom he'd apparently been keeping under wraps this whole time.
Plus, he needed this after the shitty day he'd had, and all the shitty news it'd brought with it. As he reached for the lube and condoms from his bedside drawer, he shoved the letter from LU-topped with the med school's dean's office letterhead-into the drawer in its place. Out of sight, out of mind.
With Schuyler impatiently waiting for him, he pushed away all of the day's defeats. It was something of a vice he'd fallen into over the years, he knew, but when the opportunity arose to smother the disappointments of the Pathetic Life of Kyle Lewis with some sweaty, hot sex, who was he to say no?
Some small part of him, quiet yet still annoying, whispered in his ear that it was... different with Schuyler somehow.
He thought back to their last encounter, how Schuyler had pulled away, almost as if he were scared.
He crawled up behind Schuyler and pressed an open-mouthed kiss on his shoulder.
"You don't have anything to prove to me, you know," he said.
"I know, Kyle."
"You're sure you want to...?"
Why the fuck was he trying to talk Schuyler out of this? Luckily, Schuyler saved him from his own sabotage.
"Told you," he breathed out, eying Kyle over shoulder with that same secretive smile. "Not my first time."
The deep dark blackness of his eyes and the wanton look in them snuffed out the sabotage right quick.
"We both know you're not some white knight," Schuyler continued lowly, "so you can quit acting like one. Now stop wasting my time before I put my clothes back on and walk out of here."
Fine then. Schuyler thought he was in charge here? That he was ready for everything Kyle could give him? Well, Kyle would give it to him all right, and leave him begging for more when it was all done.
He started slow, though, easing in to Schuyler and keeping a slow pace that would hold them both off for a while. Schuyler gripped the headboard with his hands and made appreciative noises, little grunts and words of encouragement, demanding Kyle "get to it already" and speed up or push in harder. But Kyle kept his pace steady. He reached forward and covered one of Schuyler's hands with his own, locking their fingers tight, while his other arm gripped Schuyler around the waist, holding their bodies close as he just barely pumped in and out.
On one unexpected and intense upward thrust, Schuyler let out a short gasp of pain. Kyle eased back gently and his hand drifted down to Schuyler's still-hard erection, giving it a few sure-fisted tugs to help distract from any lingering discomfort. Schuyler looked back at him with something like astonishment in his eyes. Almost like he had been expecting a further barrage of pain, rather than added pleasure.
Stacy must have done some real numbers on the guy.
He worked Schuyler's erection in a steady pumping motion, just slightly off the rhythm of his thrusts. Schuyler's breaths deepened and his gasps turned into low, growly moans. Kyle worked him until he felt Schuyler was close, very, very close, then abruptly stopped. Both his hand and his hips. Schuyler whimpered, much to Kyle's delight. He knew he could get him to beg.
But Kyle wasn't done with him yet.
In one swift action he had them flipped over on the mattress. Schuyler buried a groan into the sheets as Kyle buried himself deeper into Schuyler.
They switched positions a few more times, always at the moment just before Schuyler's imminent release. With each new angle Schuyler made a noise somewhere in between a moan and a delighted gasp, which convinced Kyle that Stacy hadn't been all that creative with her toy.
Kyle sat with his back propped against the pillows, Schuyler sitting on his lap away from him, allowing Schuyler to finally control the pace of their lovemaking. For at least a little while, anyway. Schuyler took advantage of it, bouncing on Kyle like he was the world's sexiest trampoline.
But Kyle was still in control. He maneuvered them once again. This time he lay on his back, Schuyler's stretched full across him, back-to-chest. Kyle kept both arms gripped securely around Schuyler's torso, pinning their upper bodies together while their lower halves bucked up off the mattress with reckless abandon. Judging by Schuyler's increasingly higher pitched groans, he liked this arrangement best so far. Kyle wasn't about to give him he wanted, though. Not yet. But soon. He moved them one last time, limbs bumping and lips meeting in a clumsy, lust-filled haze.
They ended up face to face, Schuyler on his back, his legs curled up behind Kyle. Which Kyle liked a lot, because it afforded easier access to Schuyler's mouth. He enjoyed kissing in general, and kissing Schuyler in particular. Something about his unrestrained, almost angry desperation was enticing beyond belief. That someone could be so desperate for him, again, after all these years, heated him up all over, made him thrust in harder, faster-finally-with a desperation to match Schuyler's own. He felt Schuyler's toes curl behind him, heard the hitching in his breath, knew he had found the right spot, knew Schuyler was oh so close to coming undone beneath him. He didn't stop this time.
Release came swift and hard. Schuyler's mouth opened wide and his eyes rolled back. Kyle leaned in and kissed his open mouth through his climax, tasting those warm gasps like honey on his tongue. Schuyler grabbed him roughly by the face, kissing him hard. He bit down on Kyle's lower lip, and it was enough to send Kyle crashing over the edge too.
Everything blurred out. For a few precious moments he was no longer Pathetic Kyle Lewis, blackmailer and former med student. He was Just Kyle, just a man who had satisfied another man to the point of silly, blissful looking grins. It had been so long since he'd felt that way. He liked being Just Kyle again for those few moments of afterglow. He liked it more than he could possibly say.
"Kyle..." Schuyler murmured, sounding half-asleep. Or just thoroughly, masterfully fulfilled.
"So," Kyle said, grinning; "on a scale of One to Stacy, where do I stack up?"
"Shut up," Schuyler chuckled.
"What? I really want to know."
"You already know, you smug bastard." Said almost like a coo.
"Yeah," Kyle agreed. "I kicked her ass."
Schuyler laughed a pretty amazing laugh and then he was on top of Kyle and they were kissing again.
There was something soft in Schuyler's kisses now, something vulnerable and sweet. Kyle thought he understood. Here was a man like him, lost and little bit broken and rejected by life. Both with past mistakes and ruined careers. Not quite knowing where they belonged. No family. Uncertain futures.
There was a connection forming, and he wasn't quite sure he wanted it. The last time he'd felt this way, on the precipice of something new and frightening and exhilarating, had been with Oliver. And lord knew that had not ended well. A total crushing defeat, more like. He never wanted to go through that again. Letting someone in and watching helplessly as they walked away with a bleeding chunk of his heart.
Not that he was in love with Schuyler.
But he was in very serious danger of growing attached to him.
***
Schuyler
"You're staring," Schuyler said. They were lying side by side in bed. The room was warm and dewy and it felt kind of great. "Do I have something on my face?"
"No, no. Nothing." Was Kyle blushing? "Sorry. Bad habit, I guess." The smallest of grins curled his lips.
Sky didn't actually mind. He was staring every bit as much as Kyle. Not that he'd admit as much.
"So... what's your deal, Schuyler?" Kyle said.
"My deal?"
"I mean, you obviously have no problem sleeping with men." He gestured casually between them.
"Obviously."
"And you've been with women."
"So?"
"So... I mean, do the women know? Does anyone know?"
"Stacy knows." So did a few other unsavory types from his old life.
"Does her sister know?"
A long silence settled between them, broken only by Kyle's good-natured scoff.
"I'm taking that as a no."
"It... never came up."
Kyle smirked. "I'll bet."
"I don't go around advertising it. But I don't exactly lie about it, either."
"Hmm."
Kyle had that distant look in his eyes again. The one that Sky was pretty sure he was starting to dislike. A lot. He'd figured out what it meant. What Kyle was thinking about. Who Kyle was thinking about. He still wasn't sure how much he liked Kyle, but he knew he liked Silent-Pining-Kyle less than the rest of him.
"So what's your deal, Kyle?" He nudged Kyle with a knee. It seemed to break the spell because Kyle was grinning again.
"You mean, how did I get to be such an amazing catch you can't keep your hands off of?"
Sky looked down and noticed with slight disturbance that he was indeed stroking Kyle's arm absently. He didn't stop, though. But he still felt the need to sting back.
"That, or, you know, the whole criminal rap sheet thing."
Kyle sighed, looking annoyed a few moments before sobering. "You know I was serious, right? That if Shane ever got sick again, I'd help in any way I could?"
"For a price."
"Whatever, man." He moved to get up, but Sky's hand landed strong on his arm, stopping him. Which was kind of a rascally thing for his hand to do without his permission like that.
"Hey, wait. I..." He considered his words, then settled on the truth. "I believe you."
"Look, I'm sorry. All I have are apologies, okay? I know I hurt people. I was desperate. I had no place to live, no money, no future... Not that I have one now, either."
"I thought you were in med school."
Kyle's mouth tensed. "Found out earlier. Got a letter from the dean's office. Disciplinary Probation. Indefinite, as far as I can tell. Not that I could afford tuition anyway, but still." He turned toward Sky and propped himself up on an elbow. "You know what's really messed up? Jessica Brennan, the woman who let me remind you stole a baby, and the people who helped her cover it up? They got off scot-free. Not even a slap on the wrist. Because they're Buchanans. Because they're important," he sneered.
Schuyler didn't offer him anything. No consolation or commiseration for his past misdeeds or the unfairness of Llanview's special brand of classism and nepotism-even if he felt it, just the tiniest bit, tugging at his ribs.
"I mean, I'm not," Kyle continued, on his back again, talking mostly to the ceiling. "Important. I wanted to be. I almost was, once."
"Yeah?" Sky said quietly, because Kyle's sadness intrigued him.
"Or I felt like I was, you know. And then..." He sighed, and it sounded both wistful and miserable. "And then I didn't anymore. Just like that."
"Med school?" Schuyler ventured again, even though he was pretty sure that wasn't what Kyle was talking about at all.
A short pause, then a very quiet, "Right."
Sky didn't believe him anymore than Kyle expected him to.
"Just another bad habit," Kyle said, not caring or noticing that it didn't follow the flimsy pretense they were both trying to keep upright.
For such a cocksure bastard, Kyle sure did seem to have some serious self-esteem issues. Schuyler offered up a distraction in the form of a kiss, but Kyle's eyes were glazed over and distant.
"Should I-" He cleared his throat, tried again. "Should I go?"
Kyle's eyes focused then, and he looked a little panicked, much to Sky's unforeseen pleasure.
"You don't have to," he said. "You could... stay?"
"All right," Sky said, suppressing a smile.
"We could have that talk you wanted when you first showed up."
Schuyler chuckled. "Yeahhhhhh. About that."
"What?"
"An elaborate ruse."
***
They didn't exactly cuddle. Neither of them seemed quite ready for that, but it was nice to have a warm body next to him in bed. He could count the number of times he'd been in that situation-sober-on one hand.
Despite his earlier theory, sleeping with Kyle hadn't exactly cleared him out of his system. He wasn't constantly dogged with wants and needs and urges all wrapped up in Kyle's smile and his smell and the feel of his hands. They were tempered now, but only because they were well fed. They'd be hungry again in the morning, but not starved, and maybe that was the difference. Maybe this could actually... work. Sleeping with Kyle had certainly released a lot of his pent up tension. And now he knew exactly how to scratch that itch if (when) it ever (absolutely) returned.
He glanced over. Kyle's lips were turned down in the slightest hint of a frown, even in his sleep. Something about that felt off to Sky. Like maybe there was more to this itch that he thought.
Schuyler reached for Kyle and tugged his sleeping body close. Kyle murmured some sort of sleep-babble, but happily, it sounded. Sky pulled him closer still. He smelled like hickory and danger and salt. Sky didn't know what was compelling him. It must've been some force working outside of his control, because he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Kyle's neck.
"You're important," he whispered.
(...TBC...)
Chapter Six - Butterfly Seven