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Isn’t sure how he ends up here, legs spread wide, body shaking and losing all feeling in his arms as he props himself up to watch. Watch Ryan work his way up his legs with his mouth, teeth scraping slightly, marking pale skin. Leaving him red in different places, pink spreading across his chest, burning his cheeks.
“Relax, liefje.” His fingers brush against Harvey’s hip. Squeezes slightly, holds him still. Hushes against his thighs, plants kisses until the man beneath him is wet from more than just spit. Eager for something he’s never had. “Together, yes?”
Harvey was about to agree but the words are stolen from him, by the gentle press of fingers. Changes into a pump once he’s used to it, two turns into three and the Londoner is gasping. Tells Ryan to stop, but there’s no real conviction behind the word. Doesn’t mean it. Knows that any reservations he might have about what’s happening aren’t his own. Years of pretending he never wanted this seeping from his mind, reaching his tongue and slipping out without him trying.
“You want to?” Ryan’s fingers pause inside him and he feels empty suddenly even though they aren’t pulled away. Working him open. Wet and messy and still. Stopped because he’d said so. Asked. Told him to.
“No. Don’t.” Words come out in a whisper but they’re listened to. “Please don’t stop.” They don’t make sense from there as long, dutiful fingers are thrust deeper into him. Finds his own grasping onto the sheets, knuckles almost white. The only part of him that’s still pale, freckles even hard to see through blushed skin. The details of his tattoos merge into blurs of ink as he loses all sense of everything.
“I think you are ready for me now.” Said softly, warmth in the words as he leans over Harvey. Brings their mouths together and kisses him until even breaths fail him, too. “Yes?”
Nods because it’s all he can manage, lips wet and swollen from Ryan’s. Feels the bristles of his beard through his own. Leaving marks that’ll fade in places people can’t see. Can go back to pretending he’s someone else once they’ve gone, be the person his father moulded, share a bed with a girl that only exists so questions aren’t asked about him.
But for now, he lets himself get lost to the slow stretch as Ryan presses into him. Somehow more than his fingers but still not quite enough.
“Okay?” Ryan asks, thumb stroking Harvey’s cheek as if there’s tears there. There could be, he can’t feel anything but the sensitivity between his legs, the ache just beyond that and the softness that’s offered from big hands.
“Yeah, fuck…” Manages between the hot slide of Ryan’s cock inside of him. “Yeah. Please. Fuck me. Please?”
“I will.” He says after mumbling thick words in a language Harvey doesn’t understand. Can read the smile and chuckle that comes with them. “You have somewhere to be?”
“No.”
“Then I will take my time with you.” And he does. Is deliberately slow, each pull and push adding to the heaviness of Harvey’s need, wet at the tip and leaking onto his stomach. Ryan’s fingers skim over Harvey’s naval, he finds the trail of pre-come and promises, “I will take care of you.”
“Please.”
“No need for this with me.” Ryan’s fingers brush against his cock, and Harvey nearly bucks at the feeling. At another man’s hand around something only women have ever touched. Harvey isn’t sure he’s going to last. Thinks he’s coming undone and at the risk of falling apart at Ryan’s will.
“Ryan.” Says it again because of how good it feels in his mouth, how good it sounds to hear a man’s name from his lips. Thought it would weigh heavier on his tongue, like the chocolate he’d eat when his dad wasn’t looking, or the crisps he’d sneak to school when he was a kid. “Ryan.”
They find a rhythm of thrusting and grinding and kissing and sharing breaths and promises that sound like the truth. Harvey pulls Ryan into him, bodies flush together, the weight of the Dutchman on top of him feeling right.
He moans, a long low noise that gets caught in his throat until he finally comes between them without needing to be touched. Takes Ryan by surprise, feels the man stutter into Harvey’s ear before half formed words turn into staggered breaths as he finishes with slow thrusts.
“How was that for you?” It’s Ryan that speaks first, grins lazily and moves even though he’d rather stay in bed. Waits for an answer that’s all smiles before he leaves briefly, comes back with a wet cloth and a glass of water. Climbs back onto the mattress, Harvey moving with the dips from his weight that has them laughing.
“What you doing?” Harvey asks, can’t bring his hand to stop Ryan and the warmth that cleans tender skin that’s out of view.
“Taking care of you.” Wipes the younger man clean, any hints of them gone as quickly as they were put there. “I like this part.” Harvey watches and thinks that he does, too. The hands that move him where he’s wanted, the slow kisses he gets once Ryan’s finished. “Here.” Lies down behind Harvey and fits their bodies together, back to chest to hip. “Did I swallow your tongue?”
“No.” Harvey laughs, easy, real, quiet. “Fucked me speechless, innit.”
“I hope you let me do it again.”
Goes quiet then, listens to breaths and feels them against his skin. Barely there at all when sleep eventually comes. The lips pressed into his shoulder become slack and the hands lose whatever grip they had.
Let’s himself be held a little longer before slipping out of arms that don’t notice he’s gone. Pulls on his clothes that Ryan folded neatly on top of his own, his tidy squares slightly bigger than Harvey’s even with the younger man’s preference for baggy fits.
Does as he should, as he’s told by a voice that never truly leaves him and walks away from the bed he never wanted to get out of. Sneaks into the kitchen and finds a bottle of vodka, downs enough of it that there is a lingering burn in his chest and sting in his throat. Forces a temporary warmth inside of him though the rest of him feels cold. Knows the smell in his mouth will be enough of an excuse, a reasonable lie, for why he’s home late.
Will tell them he was out drinking with the boys, celebrating a win his family will think came on the field.
One that feels too much like a loss when he leaves.