Backdated Fic Take One
Money won out in the end, as it always does. Ryan went back to France. He forced himself to spend the entire trip rehearsing his speech in his head. It was all about how he didn’t want to make Hayden unhappy, and he didn’t come back to “fight for him” like some obsessed stalking ex-boyfriend, and nothing was worth fucking up his happiness or getting him in trouble. It was a pretty good schpiel, he thought. He had a lot of confidence in it. He might, if he drank an entire bottle of pepto-bismol beforehand, even be able to deliver a slightly modified version of it to Tove. For Hayden’s sake, and all.
All his hours of practice were for naught. He pulled up in front of the castle in his rental. Hayden was already flying out the front door, having seen the car pull up from the sitting room window. Ryan opened his mouth to start his speech right off, but Hayden reached through the driver’s window, grabbed Ryan by his shirt front, hauled him bodily upwards and halfway out said window, and had his lips resting on Ryan’s before Ryan had so much as finished taking his pre-schpiel deep breath. (What there was of it [the breath] was exhaled out Ryan’s nose, sailed down Hayden’s cheek and teased the corners of their lips before sliding off his jaw. It went on to be absorbed and photosynthesized by a willow tree. The tree probably would have been a bit startled at the sudden sensations of warm skin and soft mouths, and that unleashing, relaxing sense of a dreaded incident suddenly postponed that suffused it as it took in that particular bit of carbon dioxide, if it had not been a French tree, and accustomed to the feeling.)
Hayden adjusted his grip, sliding one hand under Ryan’s jaw, and wrapping the other around his back, pressing harder than he meant to, and making Ryan arch his back even further and tilt his head even more to continue accepting Hayden’s kiss. Ryan’s physical discomfort at being pressed against the ridge of the car window, back arched and torso twisted, probably played a part in his being the first to come back to his senses.
“Hayden…” He craned his neck even further trying to pull away; eased his hands from the grip they held on Hayden’s shoulders. “Sweetie!” Hayden just pressed harder against him, opened his mouth and let the tip of his tongue chase Ryan’s lips as he pulled away. “Baby, we can’t…”
“HAYDEN!”
Hayden released his grip on Ryan the moment he heard Tove’s voice, dropping him back into the car. Ryan’s back scraped the window’s edge, and he bumped his head so hard as he plopped back into his seat, that he sat there for a moment physically stunned. Hayden jumped up on and walked across the hood of the car, and slammed himself into the passenger seat. Tove, who had seen the car pull up from a hallway window, ran out the door and down the driveway.
Ryan noticed none of this until Hayden rolled up the windows and shrieked “Drive! Drivedrivedrivedrivedrive!” and Tove started pounding on the car door. Ryan hit the gas and took off.
Tove was left to kick the ground, bellow wordlessly, and storm back to the castle. Kate was leaning against the open door frame.
“Temper?” she inquired sweetly.
“Fuck off, SuperCunt.”
Kate just smirked and sauntered back into the house.
----
The scene in the driveway was followed by a lot of crying.
Hayden’s heart was pounding, partly from the thrill of rebellion, but mostly from Ryan’s presence. His lips tingled and his breath came short. He wanted to crawl into Ryan’s lap and bury his face in his neck and smell him and taste him and touch him. He was too overwhelmed to think. A few moments of blurry roadside fixed that, and Hayden’s thoughts returned in the form of, Why isn’t he looking at me?
Ryan continued staring straight ahead for almost the entire ride. He glanced at Hayden once, halfway to the motel they ended up at. Hayden took the glance as a good sign and reached over and laid his hand on Ryan’s thigh. Hayden sighed in pleasure from just that, just the feel of Ryan’s warmth on his palm. The tips of his fingers trailed up the inseam of Ryan’s jeans until Ryan twitched his leg and said “I’m driving.”
“So pull over.” Ryan took a shaky breath and complied.
The moment Ryan had the car in park, Hayden turned over and straddled his lap, tucked his head under Ryan’s chin and started to kiss his neck. His breath came deep and blissful. His half hard cock lay pressed against Ryan’s belly, and he ground down against him just once before he felt a single drop of moisture land just below his hear, and then another on his chin. He froze for a moment, and then carefully closed his lips over his teeth and pulled back, staring at Ryan’s tearstained face. He was trembling. His eyes were wide and frightened-looking. The sight made Hayden’s chest ache so badly he lost his breath, and before he could stop the thought, he wondered if that’s what he looked like for Tove.
“Baby, what’s the matter?” he asked. His hands twitched. He wanted to reach up, cup Ryan’s face and brush his tears away, but something stopped him. He wasn’t sure of his welcome in that territory anymore.
In any case, his voice startled Ryan back to his old self. He looked down, blinking quickly and said, “Nothing.” He brushed the tears off his face himself, and none too gently. “I just…uh….wasn’t expecting this. And I bumped my head back there.” He raised his eyes to Hayden’s again and smirked. “Thanks a lot, bitch.”
Hayden bit his lip. “Sorry. I was surprised to see you.” His hands came up then, reached behind Ryan’s neck and guided his head down so Hayden could reach back and kiss near the base of his skull. “Couldn’t wait,” he murmured against Ryan’s skin.
“Neither can I, treasure. Get off me so I can drive.”
Hayden smiled. He pulled back a little and ran the tip of his tongue over the shell of Ryan’s ear, breathing open-mouthed into it before turning around and over and sinking into his own seat again.
Ryan parked and went into the office to get them a room. About forty seconds after the office door shut, Hayden remembered his collar, panicked, and started frantically rummaging around in the car for something he could use to pick the lock. He found nothing. When Ryan got back in the car with the room key, he found Hayden red faced and slightly out of breath. He eyed Hayden up and down, reached over and laid his hand on his hot cheek.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Hayden leaned into the caress, turned his head and kissed Ryan’s fingertips. “I’m just excited. Can’t wait to have you in me.”
----
Ryan doubted the words the moment they left Hayden’s mouth. His doubt intensified when Hayden went into the bathroom as soon as they got into the room. Ryan didn’t really know what to make of the situation he found himself in. He loved Hayden, he was very sure of that. But he was equally sure he wasn’t Hayden’s first choice. That begged the question of why Hayden was in the motel with him. Maybe it was just for the punishment Tove would give him later. Ryan was nauseated at the thought, but he couldn’t do anything about it. He kept glancing at the queen sized bad and imagining Hayden in it with him, and he couldn’t bring himself to leave.
At a bit of a loss, he just took off his shoes and sat down on the bed. He maintained this position until he heard a series of slams from the bathroom, each one punctuated by a curse word, except for the last one, which was followed immediately by what sounded almost like a sob. He got up and went into the bathroom, too numb to come up with any horrible imaginings of what he might find.
Hayden was sitting shirtless on the toilet, red-faced with frustration and crying, one hand clutching the metal collar around his neck. When Ryan came in, he jumped up like a startled cat, and turned away muttering “Oh shit, no don’t look, please don’t look…. I don’t want...I….” Here he lost his breath completely and began heaving painfully in between unsuccessful attempts to form words.
Ryan cornered him in the shower stall and reached up to cradle his face, murmuring nothings and shushing him all the while. He buried his hands in Hayden’s hair and massaged his scalp, trying to sooth and comfort. When Hayden could breathe again, Ryan asked,
“What were you trying to do?”
Hayden tugged his collar and choked out words until he communicated that he had been trying to get rid of it. “Didn’t want you to see….” he kept panting.
Ryan gave Hayden the best smile he could manage under the circumstances, and kissed Hayden’s knuckles where they clutched the metal chain.
“It’s ok,” he murmured against Hayden’s neck, feeling something incredibly similar to hatred surging up inside him as he spoke. “It might be good for me, you know.” He pulled back to look at Hayden’s face, beautiful even when bright red and clearly in the grips of misery. On my account, Ryan couldn’t help but think. If it weren’t for me he’d be happy collared. He chose not to analyze that at the moment, and stroked his thumbs along Hayden’s eyebrows and across his temples. In a fit of romantic compulsion that he would never admit to having, he thought, Like pomegranate halves among thy locks… but he didn’t say that. What he said was: “It’ll help me remember.” He let his lips touch Hayden’s for a brief moment. Hayden closed his eyes and sighed.
“Remember what?”
Very, very quietly Ryan answered, “That you’re not mine, not really.” Hayden jerked backwards, bumping his head on the shower wall. “It’s ok,” Ryan rushed, “I want anything, any little bit you’re willing to let me have, I don’t need you to - ”
“Stop it!” Hayden was gasping again. He brought his hand up and started tugging the collar up over his chin. It was loose enough to hang down, so as to be easily concealed by a shirt. It took some maneuvering, was not very comfortable, and Hayden’s face was even redder when he was done, but the collar came off. Ryan took it and held it in his hand, looking down at it forlornly.
“How will you get it back on when we go back?” he asked. Hayden seized him by the back of the neck and brought his lips to Ryan’s.
“Don’t care,” he said, muffling the reply in Ryan’s mouth.
---
Things went smoothly getting out of the bathroom and onto the bed. They lay there for a small eternity, just kissing and stroking skin through clothing, before Ryan asked if he could take Hayden’s shirt off of him. Hayden said yes without thinking. Ryan pulled him into a sitting position, and lifted his t-shirt off and away. As the cloth slid over his arms he felt it catch just the tiniest bit. He had forgotten. He hadn’t told Ryan about those. He lowered his arms as quickly as he could, trailed his hands over his naked chest, hoping to be a distraction. Ryan wasn’t fooled.
“Lift your arms,” he said softly. Hayden froze. He honestly didn’t think he had the strength. Ryan took him by the wrists and did it himself. Hayden turned his head away and down, closing his eyes, waiting to be slapped, tossed off the bed, called a whore and freak. But all he heard was a wet sniffle. Ryan guided Hayden’s wrists to rest on his shoulders and stroked the underside of Hayden’s upper arms. There were small cylindrical wounds there: eight on one arm and nine on the other, partially healed, but looking like they would scar. Ryan’s cool fingertips brushed the bumps they made. Hayden kept his eyes closed.
“What….why….he….” Ryan choked on a single sob and quit trying to talk. Hayden struggled not to whimper, not to make it any worse. He ended up making a tiny humming noise before gathering the fortitude to reply,
“Caught me smoking,” in a very tiny voice. He didn’t plan to say anything more, but suddenly he found that the story was welling up behind his lips, trying to make its way out into the world, into Ryan’s understanding. He spent a moment biting it back in horror, but Ryan lifted his eyes to Hayden’s and the story won out. “I was in the garden, sneaking. Took me…. into the bedroom,” he whispered, breathing erratic, chest aching. “Tied me down, fucked me so only he came, and took…. my cigs and lit them all, one…at a…” the wheezing sobs from the bathroom returned. “…time…. and then…. while he… then he …then…”
Hayden stopped talking and gasped for breath. His mind just kept chanting, How can he touch you, you don’t have the right to anything so sweet, how can he stand to even look at you, you scarred, ugly faggot? How can you expect him to?
Nauseous, heartbroken, and sure that Ryan was about to get up and leave and never speak to him again, he started to beg. “I’m sorry, baby, please don’t, please don’t send me away, I’m sick, I know, but I….please…”
Hayden was so startled when Ryan touched him that he shut his mouth in shock. He jumped when Ryan wrapped his arm around his back, and again when Ryan pulled him close and their chests touched. Ryan wordlessly lay him back down, kissed his temples, his eyelids, his cheek, and his mouth; all cool and soothing kisses. Hayden’s breathing slowed and the pain in his chest eased with each one. Ryan snuggled into his side, and they rested for a moment, until Ryan sat up again, and took Hayden’s arms, lifted them and lay them on the pillow. Then he lowered his head and kissed the burns, pillowy lips pressing gently to each one and trailing over the cashmere skin between, trying to take away the sting and the memory: trying to kiss it all better.
----
All his hours of practice were for naught. He pulled up in front of the castle in his rental. Hayden was already flying out the front door, having seen the car pull up from the sitting room window. Ryan opened his mouth to start his speech right off, but Hayden reached through the driver’s window, grabbed Ryan by his shirt front, hauled him bodily upwards and halfway out said window, and had his lips resting on Ryan’s before Ryan had so much as finished taking his pre-schpiel deep breath. (What there was of it [the breath] was exhaled out Ryan’s nose, sailed down Hayden’s cheek and teased the corners of their lips before sliding off his jaw. It went on to be absorbed and photosynthesized by a willow tree. The tree probably would have been a bit startled at the sudden sensations of warm skin and soft mouths, and that unleashing, relaxing sense of a dreaded incident suddenly postponed that suffused it as it took in that particular bit of carbon dioxide, if it had not been a French tree, and accustomed to the feeling.)
Hayden adjusted his grip, sliding one hand under Ryan’s jaw, and wrapping the other around his back, pressing harder than he meant to, and making Ryan arch his back even further and tilt his head even more to continue accepting Hayden’s kiss. Ryan’s physical discomfort at being pressed against the ridge of the car window, back arched and torso twisted, probably played a part in his being the first to come back to his senses.
“Hayden…” He craned his neck even further trying to pull away; eased his hands from the grip they held on Hayden’s shoulders. “Sweetie!” Hayden just pressed harder against him, opened his mouth and let the tip of his tongue chase Ryan’s lips as he pulled away. “Baby, we can’t…”
“HAYDEN!”
Hayden released his grip on Ryan the moment he heard Tove’s voice, dropping him back into the car. Ryan’s back scraped the window’s edge, and he bumped his head so hard as he plopped back into his seat, that he sat there for a moment physically stunned. Hayden jumped up on and walked across the hood of the car, and slammed himself into the passenger seat. Tove, who had seen the car pull up from a hallway window, ran out the door and down the driveway.
Ryan noticed none of this until Hayden rolled up the windows and shrieked “Drive! Drivedrivedrivedrivedrive!” and Tove started pounding on the car door. Ryan hit the gas and took off.
Tove was left to kick the ground, bellow wordlessly, and storm back to the castle. Kate was leaning against the open door frame.
“Temper?” she inquired sweetly.
“Fuck off, SuperCunt.”
Kate just smirked and sauntered back into the house.
----
The scene in the driveway was followed by a lot of crying.
Hayden’s heart was pounding, partly from the thrill of rebellion, but mostly from Ryan’s presence. His lips tingled and his breath came short. He wanted to crawl into Ryan’s lap and bury his face in his neck and smell him and taste him and touch him. He was too overwhelmed to think. A few moments of blurry roadside fixed that, and Hayden’s thoughts returned in the form of, Why isn’t he looking at me?
Ryan continued staring straight ahead for almost the entire ride. He glanced at Hayden once, halfway to the motel they ended up at. Hayden took the glance as a good sign and reached over and laid his hand on Ryan’s thigh. Hayden sighed in pleasure from just that, just the feel of Ryan’s warmth on his palm. The tips of his fingers trailed up the inseam of Ryan’s jeans until Ryan twitched his leg and said “I’m driving.”
“So pull over.” Ryan took a shaky breath and complied.
The moment Ryan had the car in park, Hayden turned over and straddled his lap, tucked his head under Ryan’s chin and started to kiss his neck. His breath came deep and blissful. His half hard cock lay pressed against Ryan’s belly, and he ground down against him just once before he felt a single drop of moisture land just below his hear, and then another on his chin. He froze for a moment, and then carefully closed his lips over his teeth and pulled back, staring at Ryan’s tearstained face. He was trembling. His eyes were wide and frightened-looking. The sight made Hayden’s chest ache so badly he lost his breath, and before he could stop the thought, he wondered if that’s what he looked like for Tove.
“Baby, what’s the matter?” he asked. His hands twitched. He wanted to reach up, cup Ryan’s face and brush his tears away, but something stopped him. He wasn’t sure of his welcome in that territory anymore.
In any case, his voice startled Ryan back to his old self. He looked down, blinking quickly and said, “Nothing.” He brushed the tears off his face himself, and none too gently. “I just…uh….wasn’t expecting this. And I bumped my head back there.” He raised his eyes to Hayden’s again and smirked. “Thanks a lot, bitch.”
Hayden bit his lip. “Sorry. I was surprised to see you.” His hands came up then, reached behind Ryan’s neck and guided his head down so Hayden could reach back and kiss near the base of his skull. “Couldn’t wait,” he murmured against Ryan’s skin.
“Neither can I, treasure. Get off me so I can drive.”
Hayden smiled. He pulled back a little and ran the tip of his tongue over the shell of Ryan’s ear, breathing open-mouthed into it before turning around and over and sinking into his own seat again.
Ryan parked and went into the office to get them a room. About forty seconds after the office door shut, Hayden remembered his collar, panicked, and started frantically rummaging around in the car for something he could use to pick the lock. He found nothing. When Ryan got back in the car with the room key, he found Hayden red faced and slightly out of breath. He eyed Hayden up and down, reached over and laid his hand on his hot cheek.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Hayden leaned into the caress, turned his head and kissed Ryan’s fingertips. “I’m just excited. Can’t wait to have you in me.”
----
Ryan doubted the words the moment they left Hayden’s mouth. His doubt intensified when Hayden went into the bathroom as soon as they got into the room. Ryan didn’t really know what to make of the situation he found himself in. He loved Hayden, he was very sure of that. But he was equally sure he wasn’t Hayden’s first choice. That begged the question of why Hayden was in the motel with him. Maybe it was just for the punishment Tove would give him later. Ryan was nauseated at the thought, but he couldn’t do anything about it. He kept glancing at the queen sized bad and imagining Hayden in it with him, and he couldn’t bring himself to leave.
At a bit of a loss, he just took off his shoes and sat down on the bed. He maintained this position until he heard a series of slams from the bathroom, each one punctuated by a curse word, except for the last one, which was followed immediately by what sounded almost like a sob. He got up and went into the bathroom, too numb to come up with any horrible imaginings of what he might find.
Hayden was sitting shirtless on the toilet, red-faced with frustration and crying, one hand clutching the metal collar around his neck. When Ryan came in, he jumped up like a startled cat, and turned away muttering “Oh shit, no don’t look, please don’t look…. I don’t want...I….” Here he lost his breath completely and began heaving painfully in between unsuccessful attempts to form words.
Ryan cornered him in the shower stall and reached up to cradle his face, murmuring nothings and shushing him all the while. He buried his hands in Hayden’s hair and massaged his scalp, trying to sooth and comfort. When Hayden could breathe again, Ryan asked,
“What were you trying to do?”
Hayden tugged his collar and choked out words until he communicated that he had been trying to get rid of it. “Didn’t want you to see….” he kept panting.
Ryan gave Hayden the best smile he could manage under the circumstances, and kissed Hayden’s knuckles where they clutched the metal chain.
“It’s ok,” he murmured against Hayden’s neck, feeling something incredibly similar to hatred surging up inside him as he spoke. “It might be good for me, you know.” He pulled back to look at Hayden’s face, beautiful even when bright red and clearly in the grips of misery. On my account, Ryan couldn’t help but think. If it weren’t for me he’d be happy collared. He chose not to analyze that at the moment, and stroked his thumbs along Hayden’s eyebrows and across his temples. In a fit of romantic compulsion that he would never admit to having, he thought, Like pomegranate halves among thy locks… but he didn’t say that. What he said was: “It’ll help me remember.” He let his lips touch Hayden’s for a brief moment. Hayden closed his eyes and sighed.
“Remember what?”
Very, very quietly Ryan answered, “That you’re not mine, not really.” Hayden jerked backwards, bumping his head on the shower wall. “It’s ok,” Ryan rushed, “I want anything, any little bit you’re willing to let me have, I don’t need you to - ”
“Stop it!” Hayden was gasping again. He brought his hand up and started tugging the collar up over his chin. It was loose enough to hang down, so as to be easily concealed by a shirt. It took some maneuvering, was not very comfortable, and Hayden’s face was even redder when he was done, but the collar came off. Ryan took it and held it in his hand, looking down at it forlornly.
“How will you get it back on when we go back?” he asked. Hayden seized him by the back of the neck and brought his lips to Ryan’s.
“Don’t care,” he said, muffling the reply in Ryan’s mouth.
---
Things went smoothly getting out of the bathroom and onto the bed. They lay there for a small eternity, just kissing and stroking skin through clothing, before Ryan asked if he could take Hayden’s shirt off of him. Hayden said yes without thinking. Ryan pulled him into a sitting position, and lifted his t-shirt off and away. As the cloth slid over his arms he felt it catch just the tiniest bit. He had forgotten. He hadn’t told Ryan about those. He lowered his arms as quickly as he could, trailed his hands over his naked chest, hoping to be a distraction. Ryan wasn’t fooled.
“Lift your arms,” he said softly. Hayden froze. He honestly didn’t think he had the strength. Ryan took him by the wrists and did it himself. Hayden turned his head away and down, closing his eyes, waiting to be slapped, tossed off the bed, called a whore and freak. But all he heard was a wet sniffle. Ryan guided Hayden’s wrists to rest on his shoulders and stroked the underside of Hayden’s upper arms. There were small cylindrical wounds there: eight on one arm and nine on the other, partially healed, but looking like they would scar. Ryan’s cool fingertips brushed the bumps they made. Hayden kept his eyes closed.
“What….why….he….” Ryan choked on a single sob and quit trying to talk. Hayden struggled not to whimper, not to make it any worse. He ended up making a tiny humming noise before gathering the fortitude to reply,
“Caught me smoking,” in a very tiny voice. He didn’t plan to say anything more, but suddenly he found that the story was welling up behind his lips, trying to make its way out into the world, into Ryan’s understanding. He spent a moment biting it back in horror, but Ryan lifted his eyes to Hayden’s and the story won out. “I was in the garden, sneaking. Took me…. into the bedroom,” he whispered, breathing erratic, chest aching. “Tied me down, fucked me so only he came, and took…. my cigs and lit them all, one…at a…” the wheezing sobs from the bathroom returned. “…time…. and then…. while he… then he …then…”
Hayden stopped talking and gasped for breath. His mind just kept chanting, How can he touch you, you don’t have the right to anything so sweet, how can he stand to even look at you, you scarred, ugly faggot? How can you expect him to?
Nauseous, heartbroken, and sure that Ryan was about to get up and leave and never speak to him again, he started to beg. “I’m sorry, baby, please don’t, please don’t send me away, I’m sick, I know, but I….please…”
Hayden was so startled when Ryan touched him that he shut his mouth in shock. He jumped when Ryan wrapped his arm around his back, and again when Ryan pulled him close and their chests touched. Ryan wordlessly lay him back down, kissed his temples, his eyelids, his cheek, and his mouth; all cool and soothing kisses. Hayden’s breathing slowed and the pain in his chest eased with each one. Ryan snuggled into his side, and they rested for a moment, until Ryan sat up again, and took Hayden’s arms, lifted them and lay them on the pillow. Then he lowered his head and kissed the burns, pillowy lips pressing gently to each one and trailing over the cashmere skin between, trying to take away the sting and the memory: trying to kiss it all better.
----