Archive of Our Own

Halfway through putting on his favorite leather jacket, Ryan finds himself struck anew by how wonderfully soft the leather feels. It’s nearly hypnotizing, standing there in the front hallway, rubbing his thumb against the lapel. When he’s jolted back to attention by a key turning in the lock and the front door opening, Dan following in its wake, he has no idea how much time has passed. 

Dan takes one look at him and must see it in his face; he cuts straight to the heart of the matter, “Taco Bell time, huh?” and  grins knowingly, like it’s obvious that Ryan’s on a mission to find and devour a grilled stuft burrito. 

It’s probably something about his eyes – he’s definitely still a bit buzzed. See: why he’s about to head out to buy the crappiest quasi-Mexican food available within two miles of the house. So he shrugs, all what else is new?

Dan says, faux-solemn, “On your head be it,” But Ryan knows he’s not gonna judge; he’s just as familiar with the siren song of the munchies .

Ryan quirks a grin his way and the front hall sinks into companionable silence. Dan toes out of his shoes and takes off his jacket while Ryan finishes putting his on (the leather still feels great). Their hands brush over the key bowl, Dan dropping his in just as Ryan goes to grab the little LEGO figure keychain Spencer got him for his last birthday – and that turns into Dan pulling Ryan in for a kiss hello and goodbye that Ryan feels like letting drift on and on, just for the pleasure of having Dan’s mouth on his. Then his stomach growls, which is good, because if it hadn’t he might have forgotten his very important burrito quest entirely.

And that would have been tragic, even if the burrito is coming from Taco Bell and ending the kiss will also be tragic. As is, it takes him another minute or two to detach himself from Dan – and get around to patting down his pockets to check for his wallet and heading out to the car.

Later, when he’s sitting in line at the slightly further away Taco Bell – worth it for the above average drive-thru service and the fact that they never get his order wrong, even when he’s super baked - Dan calls to ask if Ryan can bring back a few of the crispy potato soft tacos. And Ryan just has to laugh, because he’d already factored a half dozen of them into his order; he knew Dan wouldn’t actually be able to pass up getting a little Taco Bell action of his own.

***

Ryan leaves the locker room feeling pleasantly tired and flushed with victory. Dan’s waiting for him in the hallway, leaning against the cinderblock wall in his jeans and leather jacket and boots, looking James Dean cool, like he could say ‘do you feel lucky, punk?’ and mean it. He’s brought the Ice Holes luck, anyway; this game, the first he’s attended, is the first they’ve won this season.

But when he unfolds himself from the wall, the illusion of cool vanishes, done in by his undeniably goofy smile.

 Ryan’s okay with that – he’d rather have the smile and the hug Dan gathers him into, skip the mussing of his still-wet hair. They’re a package deal, though, albeit not one that comes with  kissing at the moment. And that’s too bad, since right now Ryan doesn’t have words for how badly he wants to attach himself to Dan by the lips. For bringing them luck, sure – but also just for being himself. He isn’t going to; they’ve talked about it and agreed that as awesome as the rest of Ryan’s team is, they’re probably not ready for Dan and Ryan’s particular brand of PDA. 

And no matter how badly he wants to, Ryan’s not about to change things up on the spur of the moment.

He’s not interested in the drama not talking about it with Dan beforehand would bring. He may’ve thought that was just the way relationships worked back when he was a teenager, but he’s learned a thing or two about trust and communication since then. And with everything he has going on in his life these days, he doesn’t have time to not get it right.

So instead he shoulders his hockey bag and drags Dan out of the Valley Ice Center – celebratory drinks with the team await.

Their usual bar’s in a strip mall and not much to look at on the outside, but its beer selection is decent and it’s never short on seating, between the sea of battered two-tops and the ring of equally battered booths. The Ice Holes usually take over a couple booths. 

Ryan and Dan get squashed in together on one side of one of them. Being all up into Dan’s business helps some, but not entirely.  Instead, the more Ryan has to drink, the harder it is for him to remember that just up and kissing Dan isn’t actually on the agenda for the evening. Unlike telling endless hockey war stories.

Which are not as interesting as tour stories, Ryan is absolutely certain. But those aren’t supposed to be on the menu tonight, either, not if he wants his team to continue to consider him a relative nobody.

Three beers in, he gives up on paying attention and keeping his hands to himself and drags himself off to the bathroom, because it’s that or crawling into Dan’s lap. And that would be another wonderfully bad idea. When he comes back out, Dan’s there, leaning against the wall just like he had been back at the rink. It’s still a really fucking good look on him and a terrible idea to cross the hallway and kiss him. Ryan does it anyway.

He pulls back after one very thorough kiss, though, says, “Fuck, I’ve been wanting to do that all night.”

Dan smirks, “I could tell.”

Ryan has to check, then, ask Dan, “We still shouldn’t make a habit of this, though, right?”

Dan says, “What – getting really into the PDA where your hockey team could walk in on us? Probably not.” He looks like he wishes the answer were different just as much as Ryan does, though. So, Ryan thinks, probably someday they’ll decide to try being that brave.

Tonight, though, they’ll save the rest of the kissing for after they get home.

***

When Ryan drifts back to consciousness on the couch, half-covered by his most prized thrift store afghan, his first thought is to wonder why he can’t feel the earthquake that’s making his Christmas tree sway like the Santa Anas are blowing through his living room. A minute or so later, once his brain comes fully back online, it seems ridiculously obvious that there hadn’t been an earthquake. Particularly once he spots the glowing yellow eyes peering out through the pine needles, Captain Knots nesting inside the Christmas tree in such a way as to nearly completely unbalance the whole thing.

Unfortunately for the tree, Captain Knots seems content to stay where he is - and completely uninterested in coming out any time in the foreseeable future - but Ryan refuses to be defeated by a cat.

He tries the obvious answers first:  calling him by name. Going to the kitchen to get a handful of his favorite treats. Dragging the catnip mouse on a string back and forth beneath the tree. He’s on his knees singing a nonsense song about good kittens who come down from trees on their own to Captain Knots when Dan wanders in.

He’s also kinda wishing he was stoned; he bets he’d think this was a lot funnier that way.

Dan, on the other hand, is grinning like he thinks getting Captain Knots out of the tree is going to be fun – and saying, “You already tried reaching in and dragging him out.”

Ryan snorts. “Remember how I was really into how dense the needle growth on this one was?”

Dan nods.

Ryan continues, “Well, not so much any longer.” And holds up the hand he’d tried to grab Captain Knots with,  “Cat-fishing in that tree? Not a success.” Those needles were sharp - and he’s got the tender hand to prove it.

Dan looks like he’s just seen the light, though, says, “Water! Waterwaterwaterwaterwater- oceans of it!” and “You’ve got a SuperSoaker around here somewhere, right?”

Ryan nods, “Special Decaydance issue – it’s somewhere in the hall closet, I think.” And now that Dan has suggested it, he can totally see the genius of the plan – an ordinary training spray bottle wouldn’t do much to penetrate his stupidly dense tree, but a SuperSoaker water-cannon? That should send Captain Knots running.

It’s a good thing he has Dan around to be sensible. And, if the noises are anything to go by, pull everything in the hall closet out just to find one water gun. When he returns from filling it, the plan works like a charm. Captain Knots bolts out of his hidey-hole at the first pump of water; Ryan keeps the tree from falling over afterwards. And then Dan proves his genius even further by suggesting Ryan attach the tree to the wall so it can’t fall over.

While Dan is tracking some wire and a picture hook and a hammer, Ryan decides to see if the internet has any suggestions for things he could do to stop Captain Knots from climbing the tree again. And, well, boy does it - the first couple hits provide a goldmine of ideas: tinfoil around the trunk; orange or other citrus peels hung from the lower branches and scattered around the tree stand; netting; a liberal application of hot sauce; motion sensor activated squirt bottles.

When Dan finishes attaching the tree to the wall, Ryan’s got plans to make it the spiciest, sparkliest Christmas tree to ever  fend off a feline boarding party.

***

Dan’s phone goes off just as the plot of Yes Man is really starting to kick in. It blares out a ringtone Ryan knows means business rather than pleasure and Dan goes to take the call in Ryan’s kitchen while Ryan pauses the movie. He’s left sitting on the sofa, staring at the image of Terrence frozen in the middle of lecturing Carl on the merits of deciding to say yes. He’s suddenly far more aware of how warm Dan had been keeping the right side of his body.

He’s also thinking about the philosophy of trying to say ‘yes’ to life and how well he does at it. He’s definitely good at doing it when it comes to adventure – and while the break-up of The Young Veins had left him a little gunshy in regards to seizing musical opportunities, he feels like he’s begun to reestablish his equilibrium on that front.  He doesn’t think he’s become any more unwilling to be open to new friendships than he’s ever been. Saying ‘yes’ to doing good in the world has always been a priority, of course, but figuring out what things actually are good to say ‘yes’ to can be more difficult than any other decision – aside, perhaps, from deciding whether to say ‘yes’ to romance.

And he hasn’t done that since he and Z broke things off. 

He hasn’t been celibate or anything – he’s never cared whether having sex with somebody meant anything more than that they’d had a good time – but…he’s mostly been sleeping with Dan. In fact…he hasn’t slept with anybody but Dan in the past three months. He’s been hanging out with Dan the most outside of bed, as well. And he has to admit that when you put it all together like that, it sounds like they’ve stumbled into being something a little more serious than really good friends (with benefits).

He’s not sure if it’s love, yet, but it’s definitely headed for romance and – he’s surprised to find - he wants to say yes to it, to making a commitment to Dan, for real. As long as Dan wants to, too. He’d definitely never expected that when they first became friends – and he’s still standing there, feeling gobsmacked, when Dan wanders back into the room, clearly done doing business and equally clearly feeling good as a result.

Ryan summons up ordinary words from somewhere, enough to ask Dan, “Good news?”

And Dan nods, enthusiasm personified, “We’ve finally got studio time booked.”

Ryan knows what recording sessions are like when you’re working against the booked studio clock, so he tries to keep things light, only asks Dan, “Gonna still have time to jam while you’re recording?”

Dan, being Dan, takes him seriously. “With my boyfriend? Of course.”

And that leaves Ryan flatfooted and fumbling out, “…I didn’t want to assume.”

Dan crosses the room to him, scoffing,  “That we were dating? If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck…”

But if Ryan has learned one thing from life amongst traveling musicians it’s that, “We still needed to actually talk about it.”

Dan announces, unendingly cheerful, “Well, guess what? Now we have,” and swoops in to kiss Ryan’s protest that they haven’t, really, not in any detail, into oblivion. Ryan can’t say that he minds terribly much, though, not when it’s clear that Dan’s at least as all-in as he is.

***

Ryan’s lying on his back on his bed, the weight of Dan’s body pressing him down into the sheets. They’re  rubbing off lazily against each other, having the kind of unhurried sex weekday afternoons are perfect for, attention entirely taken up by each other. He thinks he can be forgiven for not noticing the bed dipping a little near the foot, not noticing anything unusual until there’s suddenly fur rubbing up against his inner thigh.

And also for startling a bit at that.

It’s not a particularly difficult leap of logic to get from mobile fur to cat, not when he knows the precise location of each of his and Dan’s four hands, so he’s already groaning, “Captain Knots,” as he pushes up on one hand to confirm that, yes, that is the furry member  of his household hanging out between their legs while they fuck. It’s a new one for him – but the utter unconcernedness of Captain Knots’ expression makes him laugh and ask Dan, “Well, is three a crowd?”

Dan twists to get a better look at the Captain, then shrugs, “Avoiding getting kicked is his lookout.”

Ryan takes one more look at how his cat’s positioned in relation to their legs, agrees, “He should be out of the danger zone.” And that’s that. 

Dan’s possibly the most laid-back person Ryan’s ever had sex with, so it’s easy enough to start right back up where they’d left off, Dan pressing Ryan back into the mattress and sliding smoothly into their old rhythm. Within minutes Ryan’s all but forgotten they’re sharing the bed with his cat, his attention once again taken up by Dan: the rock and press of his body, his hand working its way in to strip Ryan’s cock, his amazing, amazing mouth.

It’s all Ryan can do to provide a little counter-pressure of his own, pull Dan in by his bony hips and laugh, because there just isn’t all that much padding between them, never will be; laugh and bite at Dan’s red, red lips – and rock up against him. When he comes, finally, he kicks out at nothing and clips fur.

Captain Knots has long since departed in a whirl of offended fluff by the time Ryan gets it together enough to grasp that he had almost kicked his cat off the bed and laugh because, as he tells Dan, “You were right.”

Dan grins and says, “I know what you’re like,” and reaches over the side of the bed for the towel Ryan keeps there. 

They lie there afterwards doing something an awful lot like cuddling.  It’s surprisingly peaceful. Or maybe not that surprising, after all, since this doesn’t even come close to breaking into the top ten as far as weird circumstances under which he’s had sex go.