Backdated Fic Take Two
Mar. 22nd, 2003 12:56 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
scarylullabiez“Come on now, precious, I said I was sorry…” It was Ewan’s voice. It was followed by a series of small wet smacking sounds that made Ryan want to throw up, punch things, and kill himself. He turned around and fled to the room he and Hayden shared.
He went straight to the shower and turned the water up as hot as he could stand. He took deep haggard breaths under the spray, trying to calm his churning stomach and aching chest. You knew this was how it would be, he told himself. You knew this was coming, stop being a fucking baby.
After his shower, Ryan stared at his naked body in the full length mirror on the bathroom door. The sight made him think, an activity he was learning to hate. He kept trying to rationalize that it wasn’t him, that nothing about him was particularly lacking. Some people just weren’t the monogamous type. Lots of people, actually, most mammals. But he couldn’t help it. It felt like something was wrong with him. It felt like he wasn’t enough.
He let his hands come up to touch his stomach, and then trailed them up over his chest, trying to imagine how he felt to Hayden. It was painfully obvious to him that he wasn’t anything that would present competition to the various persons who showed an interest in Hayden. Hayden could have anyone he crooked his little finger at.
Ryan wanted to be different from all of them, somehow. He wanted Hayden to remember him more vividly, he wanted to measure up or surpass them, if it was possible. He snorted. Fat chance. He didn’t have anything to offer up against Ewan McGregor, let alone the combined force that was Ewan McGregor and Jude Law. He consoled himself by reflecting that you’d have to be one hell of a singular lover to compare to what amounted to one unit, with two mouths, two cocks, and four hands.
He loved Hayden, and he was pretty sure that Law and McGregor didn’t, but he wasn’t romantic enough to really believe that that counted for much in the sack to anyone other than himself.
He concluded his musing by reasoning that maybe it wasn’t a competition. Maybe he could just… show a desire to improve… and maybe Hayden would appreciate the effort. There weren’t any other viable options anyways. He turned around and got back in the shower.
Hayden trudged up the stairs. He, like very other inhabitant of the limelight, loathed days like today. It felt like being attacked, like being the only soldier in a fortress, standing guard on the battlements, watching the disgustingly huge enemy army surround you and come marching towards you at their own arrogant, leisurely pace. You were going to be shredded anyways, but you couldn’t help but frantically keep your guard up, constantly look for escape that never presented itself. He had told everyone that Ryan wasn’t feeling well to spare him the stress. He was hoping, in the very secret bit of his heart where he wished for disgustingly selfish things, that Ryan might be feeling a little better today. That he might be up for a little something tonight. Hayden hated that Ewan and Jude had been the last people to touch him. He was eager to change that, but Ryan hadn’t been up for much since the hospital and trip.
Hayden opened the door to the room they shared and slipped inside. He lost his breath at the sight that greeted him.
Ryan had removed all the upper layers of bedding from the bed. He lay under a thin white sheet that may as well have been soaked through the way it seemed to cling to his body. Hayden’s eyes followed the shadows that outlined Ryan’s thighs until the sheet gave way to bare skin just above Ryan’s hip. He was curled up; lying crooked on the bed so that his head was still near the head of the bed, but Hayden could see most of his belly and chest clearly. The room was chilly and Ryan’s nipples were hard. Hayden let his eyes linger on Ryan’s clavicle and neck, paused on his glossed lips, before traveling up to his eyes, which were bright, aware, and focused on Hayden; but half-closed in what was probably supposed to look like pleasure. The overall effect was one of a conscious, but not at all ineffective, attempt at seduction. Something was decidedly off.
“Hi.” Ryan’s voice was pitched so low and quiet that Hayden’s comprehension of the word felt like telepathy. “Come here.” Hayden was about to, when something flickered on Ryan’s face, something changed. “Please?” he added.
Hayden knew that tone of voice. He was intimately familiar with it, and the intention behind it. It was something you practiced, something you did when you were trying to become every fantasy your partner has ever had. He shook the feeling off. Ryan wasn’t that desperate for love. Ryan was prideful, he’d never do… that.
Hayden smiled and went to kneel on the bed. He leaned forward, hoping for a little kiss, and Ryan met him half way. He arched up, propped himself up on one arm, tipped his head back and opened for Hayden.
There were little laps from Ryan’s tongue, the kind meant to entice Hayden to lead the kiss. Ryan’s neck was arched, offering his throat, and Hayden’s hands came up to support him there, stroking and almost massaging the tendons and muscles in Ryan’s neck. Ryan whimpered. It was so sweet and so good that Hayden couldn’t help but be reminded of coaxing flowers open, taking the smallest sweetest sips of nectar. He giggled into Ryan’s mouth.
“I’m so gay,” he said, trying not to take any part of his mouth away from Ryan’s any more than was necessary for speech. And speaking of flowers…. “You smell fantastic,” he breathed. He pulled away from Ryan’s lips to bury his face in Ryan’s neck. Ryan smelled like musk and spice and tonka. Like everything Hayden wanted to do to him. His skin was so, so soft, he felt like a newborn almost.
Ryan made no reply to the gay comment, but lifted the hand that was not supporting his torso to skate up Hayden’s thigh and tug very gently on a belt loop on his jeans. Hayden took the hint and straightened up to undress. Ryan smiled up at him and lay back on the bed, watching him through hooded eyes and breathing hard through his mouth. The sense of wrongness returned suddenly, making Hayden pause, making his stomach feel like a lead weight. He looked at Ryan, lying in wait. Suddenly he needed touch, he neede reassuring. He knelt back on the bed, shirtless now, and bent his head to Ryan’s belly. He kissed Ryan’s stomach as softly as he could, and then dipped his tongue into Ryan’s navel. He took a deep breath. Ryan’s belly had been perfumed as well, only there he smelled like opium and caramel.
Hayden straightened up suddenly and bit his lip. He felt as though something was very wrong, but he wasn’t truly convinced until Ryan, in response the sudden lack of attention, sat up looking faintly panicked. The expression on his face made Hayden want to cry. His erection wilted. He’d been right. Ryan was doing that thing.
“What’s the matter?” Ryan’s voice was soft, but had an edge. “Do you….I mean, don’t you…. like mm… it?” Hayden shook his head, close enough to crying to be afraid to speak. He watched while Ryan turned to let his legs fall off the opposite side of the bed. He didn’t appear to have the energy for any more movement than that. “I’m sorry,” he whispered after a moment. “I’ll go.” He reached for a pair of pajama pants on the easy chair near the bed.
He went straight to the shower and turned the water up as hot as he could stand. He took deep haggard breaths under the spray, trying to calm his churning stomach and aching chest. You knew this was how it would be, he told himself. You knew this was coming, stop being a fucking baby.
After his shower, Ryan stared at his naked body in the full length mirror on the bathroom door. The sight made him think, an activity he was learning to hate. He kept trying to rationalize that it wasn’t him, that nothing about him was particularly lacking. Some people just weren’t the monogamous type. Lots of people, actually, most mammals. But he couldn’t help it. It felt like something was wrong with him. It felt like he wasn’t enough.
He let his hands come up to touch his stomach, and then trailed them up over his chest, trying to imagine how he felt to Hayden. It was painfully obvious to him that he wasn’t anything that would present competition to the various persons who showed an interest in Hayden. Hayden could have anyone he crooked his little finger at.
Ryan wanted to be different from all of them, somehow. He wanted Hayden to remember him more vividly, he wanted to measure up or surpass them, if it was possible. He snorted. Fat chance. He didn’t have anything to offer up against Ewan McGregor, let alone the combined force that was Ewan McGregor and Jude Law. He consoled himself by reflecting that you’d have to be one hell of a singular lover to compare to what amounted to one unit, with two mouths, two cocks, and four hands.
He loved Hayden, and he was pretty sure that Law and McGregor didn’t, but he wasn’t romantic enough to really believe that that counted for much in the sack to anyone other than himself.
He concluded his musing by reasoning that maybe it wasn’t a competition. Maybe he could just… show a desire to improve… and maybe Hayden would appreciate the effort. There weren’t any other viable options anyways. He turned around and got back in the shower.
Hayden trudged up the stairs. He, like very other inhabitant of the limelight, loathed days like today. It felt like being attacked, like being the only soldier in a fortress, standing guard on the battlements, watching the disgustingly huge enemy army surround you and come marching towards you at their own arrogant, leisurely pace. You were going to be shredded anyways, but you couldn’t help but frantically keep your guard up, constantly look for escape that never presented itself. He had told everyone that Ryan wasn’t feeling well to spare him the stress. He was hoping, in the very secret bit of his heart where he wished for disgustingly selfish things, that Ryan might be feeling a little better today. That he might be up for a little something tonight. Hayden hated that Ewan and Jude had been the last people to touch him. He was eager to change that, but Ryan hadn’t been up for much since the hospital and trip.
Hayden opened the door to the room they shared and slipped inside. He lost his breath at the sight that greeted him.
Ryan had removed all the upper layers of bedding from the bed. He lay under a thin white sheet that may as well have been soaked through the way it seemed to cling to his body. Hayden’s eyes followed the shadows that outlined Ryan’s thighs until the sheet gave way to bare skin just above Ryan’s hip. He was curled up; lying crooked on the bed so that his head was still near the head of the bed, but Hayden could see most of his belly and chest clearly. The room was chilly and Ryan’s nipples were hard. Hayden let his eyes linger on Ryan’s clavicle and neck, paused on his glossed lips, before traveling up to his eyes, which were bright, aware, and focused on Hayden; but half-closed in what was probably supposed to look like pleasure. The overall effect was one of a conscious, but not at all ineffective, attempt at seduction. Something was decidedly off.
“Hi.” Ryan’s voice was pitched so low and quiet that Hayden’s comprehension of the word felt like telepathy. “Come here.” Hayden was about to, when something flickered on Ryan’s face, something changed. “Please?” he added.
Hayden knew that tone of voice. He was intimately familiar with it, and the intention behind it. It was something you practiced, something you did when you were trying to become every fantasy your partner has ever had. He shook the feeling off. Ryan wasn’t that desperate for love. Ryan was prideful, he’d never do… that.
Hayden smiled and went to kneel on the bed. He leaned forward, hoping for a little kiss, and Ryan met him half way. He arched up, propped himself up on one arm, tipped his head back and opened for Hayden.
There were little laps from Ryan’s tongue, the kind meant to entice Hayden to lead the kiss. Ryan’s neck was arched, offering his throat, and Hayden’s hands came up to support him there, stroking and almost massaging the tendons and muscles in Ryan’s neck. Ryan whimpered. It was so sweet and so good that Hayden couldn’t help but be reminded of coaxing flowers open, taking the smallest sweetest sips of nectar. He giggled into Ryan’s mouth.
“I’m so gay,” he said, trying not to take any part of his mouth away from Ryan’s any more than was necessary for speech. And speaking of flowers…. “You smell fantastic,” he breathed. He pulled away from Ryan’s lips to bury his face in Ryan’s neck. Ryan smelled like musk and spice and tonka. Like everything Hayden wanted to do to him. His skin was so, so soft, he felt like a newborn almost.
Ryan made no reply to the gay comment, but lifted the hand that was not supporting his torso to skate up Hayden’s thigh and tug very gently on a belt loop on his jeans. Hayden took the hint and straightened up to undress. Ryan smiled up at him and lay back on the bed, watching him through hooded eyes and breathing hard through his mouth. The sense of wrongness returned suddenly, making Hayden pause, making his stomach feel like a lead weight. He looked at Ryan, lying in wait. Suddenly he needed touch, he neede reassuring. He knelt back on the bed, shirtless now, and bent his head to Ryan’s belly. He kissed Ryan’s stomach as softly as he could, and then dipped his tongue into Ryan’s navel. He took a deep breath. Ryan’s belly had been perfumed as well, only there he smelled like opium and caramel.
Hayden straightened up suddenly and bit his lip. He felt as though something was very wrong, but he wasn’t truly convinced until Ryan, in response the sudden lack of attention, sat up looking faintly panicked. The expression on his face made Hayden want to cry. His erection wilted. He’d been right. Ryan was doing that thing.
“What’s the matter?” Ryan’s voice was soft, but had an edge. “Do you….I mean, don’t you…. like mm… it?” Hayden shook his head, close enough to crying to be afraid to speak. He watched while Ryan turned to let his legs fall off the opposite side of the bed. He didn’t appear to have the energy for any more movement than that. “I’m sorry,” he whispered after a moment. “I’ll go.” He reached for a pair of pajama pants on the easy chair near the bed.
