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Barely twenty-four hours have passed since the All-Star game when Oliver hears a familiar sound at his front door. It’s late—a quick glance at his watch tells him it’s just past nine in the evening—and he hasn’t been home long. His flight got in at six, and it took an hour to get home. He had to make dinner and feed the dogs, and he’d finally been laying on the couch for some well-deserved rest when he’d heard the knock.
Oliver gets up slowly, taking his time as he wanders over to answer the door. He’s both surprised and not surprised to find Ryan on the other side. Oliver realises he probably looks different to what Ryan had probably expected, dressed down in boxer briefs and no shirt.
Ryan’s eyes catch on Oliver’s bare chest and he tries to divert his eyes, but not quickly enough. Oliver watches as Ryan takes him in—his hair a mess of curls, his nipples slightly hard from the chill creeping in from outside—and wonders if he’s going to say something.
Ryan seems to realise he’s been caught, shaking his head before offering Oliver a friendly smile. “Hey, man.”
“Hey,” Oliver says with a curious smile of his own in return. “What are you doing here? I didn’t think I’d see you this weekend.”
“Watched your game last night,” Ryan says, sounding maybe a little nervous but Oliver’s not sure. “You played really well.”
Did he though? He didn’t get to play much and he missed a shot.
“I guess,” Oliver chuckles. “My knee held up better than I expected, to be honest. Barely bothered me at all. I took it easy today, though, so I think that—”
“Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?” Ryan interrupts, seemingly distracted by his shirtlessness. “It’s still winter. Aren’t you cold?”
Oliver pauses, blinking in surprise as he looks down at himself.
“Oh,” he laughs awkwardly. “I was hot? I’ve got the heater on inside. I was just relaxing with the dogs, but I can go put a shirt on again if you—”
“No,” Ryan interrupts again before pausing for a moment, “I mean, it’s fine. You look—it’s fine.”
Oliver raises his eyebrow curiously. He wishes he could tell exactly what’s going through Ryan’s mind because he’s acting uncharacteristically weird as hell tonight.
“Thanks, I guess,” is the response he eventually settles on.
Ryan clears his throat, and Oliver realises they’ve been standing in the doorway of his house for a solid few minutes. He takes a step back, wordlessly inviting Ryan inside and shutting the door behind him.
When he turns, he realises there’s less than a foot of space between them.
God, Ryan looks good.
It’s not like he doesn’t know Ryan looks good, because he does. He definitely does. It’s incredibly distracting.
“So, um—” Oliver’s breath hitches as Ryan takes a step towards him, leaving all but no space. “Hey, you okay?”
Ryan nods, taking a final step forward resulting in them standing flush against one another. Oliver can feel his heart start to race.
They haven’t been this close in a few weeks at least, and Ryan’s presence is kind of overwhelming. Oliver watches as Ryan’s eyes rake over his body, taking every inch of him in, and tries his absolute hardest not to get his hopes up.
“Sorry,” Ryan says rather suddenly, and Oliver’s not entirely sure what he’s apologising for at first. Not until he feels Ryan’s lips land softly on his own.
It’s surprising, because they aren’t supposed to be doing this anymore.
Ryan was the one who insisted they couldn’t do this anymore, in fact.
Last time they did this was supposed to be the last time they did this.
Oliver can’t seem to help himself though, and he sighs as he pulls Ryan flush against him, relaxing easily into Ryan’s embrace. Ryan lifts a hand to his cheek, and Oliver’s heart skips a traitorous beat.
He reaches up to clutch at the collar of Ryan’s shirt, kissing the sound of surprise off Ryan’s lips as he steps back.
His back hits the door.
Heat takes them over, and Oliver can feel it in every press of their mouths together, every slide of their lips, and every drag of Ryan’s tongue against his own. He shivers, a soft noise escaping his throat as Ryan lightly catches his bottom lip between his teeth.
Oliver clutches at Ryan’s shirt with both hands, gasping lightly into Ryan’s mouth as Ryan presses him up against the door even further. He can’t get a word out between them until Ryan’s mouth finally relents, fingers twisting into his hair to tip his head back so he can get his lips on his neck instead.
“Fuck,” Oliver pants, his fingers sinking into Ryan’s hair and encouraging the open presses of Ryan’s mouth against his neck. “You should let me—”
Ryan cuts him off, swallowing his words with a kiss. “Yeah,” he breathes out.
And with that, Oliver kneels down with zero hesitation, switching their places and nudging Ryan’s hips back against the door. He sinks straight to his knees in front of Ryan and gazes up at him, his fingers sliding up tentatively over his jeans. He raises an eyebrow in question.
Ryan exhales raggedly as his eyes close. After a moment, Ryan slides his fingers to Oliver;s shoulder, then into his hair. “Do it,” Ryan whispers, and Oliver’s fingers fly to the front of his jeans, working them open in mere seconds.
Oliver doesn’t waste a single second as he pushes Ryan’s clothes out of the way. He finds Ryan half-hard already, and he’s quick to take him in hand, stroking him slowly to coax him to full hardness. His breath is hot against Ryan’s cock, his lips parting as his tongue sweeps across them in anticipation.
The tip of his tongue just barely slides against the head of Ryan’s cock, and Ryan moans softly. Oliver flicks his eyes back up towards him as he presses forward, his lips parting to mouth carefully down Ryan’s shaft.
Ryan groans, blood rapidly rushing lower through his body as he curls his fingers in Oliver’s hair. Oliver drags his tongue slowly up the length of Ryan’s cock, and Ryan has to bite back another sound in response.
He indulges Ryan for a moment—only a moment—closing his mouth around the head of Ryan’s cock and sucking lightly. Ryan moans again, and Oliver pulls off with a chuckle.
“You want it so bad, don’t you?” Oliver teases, his gaze locked onto Ryan’s as he shifts with what Oliver can only assume is a small amount of frustration. He can’t help himself. “Say please.”
Ryan groans, fingers tightening and loosening in quick succession in Oliver’s hair.
“Say please,” Oliver repeats, teasing his lips along the side of Ryan’s cock. “I’ll make it worth it, I promise.”
Ryan’s fingers slide to Oliver’s jaw briefly before tangling in his hair again. “Please, Oli.”
Oliver’s eyes sparkle, and he immediately swallows Ryan down. Ryan gives a low groan as Oliver takes him in deep, moans as Oliver works his tongue against him like he’s aching for it.
He is.
He has been for a while now.
Oliver’s hands slide up to clutch at Ryan’s hips as he sucks wetly around him, drawing back only so that he can slide down quickly again. He moans as he settles into a swift rhythm, all heat and no restraint. Ryan gasps at what must be an onslaught of sensation.
“Fuck,” Ryan moans again, and Oliver gives a low sound of encouragement as he swallows around him, impossibly hot.
“Jesus christ,” Ryan gasps as tension seeps throughout his body. “I can’t—I’m gonna—”
Oliver pulls off immediately, wrapping a hand tight around the base of Ryan’s cock. He ignores Ryan’s groan as he says, “Sorry, I’m not done with you yet.”
He gives Ryan a moment to calm down, but only a moment. In no time at all he’s back to blowing Ryan’s mind. Every one of Ryan’s greedy little sounds serves to encourage him more, and he presses in to take Ryan even deeper.
Oliver angles his head for more, and he thinks it must be obvious that he’s spent every moment since the last time they were like this dreaming about it.
Heat courses through him like fire when he thinks back to the last time his mouth was on Ryan’s cock. Rushed, desperate, worried about getting caught in his trailer. Only for Ryan to hurry out afterwards. Not exactly ideal.
This is different though. This is better.
He grips his fingers tighter on Ryan’s hips, sucking slowly around his cock now. He wants to take his time with this. He doesn’t want it to be over.
A deep, pleased moan works its way out of Ryan’s chest as he threads his fingers into Oliver’s hair again. “Just like that,” he breathes, running his fingers lightly through Oliver’s hair in response. “Just—fuck, you’re so fucking good at this.”
Oliver’s fingers twitch against Ryan’s hips. He slides his mouth down further on Ryan’s cock before drawing slowly back again. He’s sure he looks desperate, but he can’t bring himself to be embarrassed. Ryan looks just about as desperate as he does.
“Love your fucking mouth on me,” Ryan says heatedly. “Right where it should be. Nobody else should get to have you like this.”
And that’s when he realises what this is about. He should have known Ryan would notice when he followed Rome on Instagram. Jealous bastard. He wasn’t expecting him to show up on his doorstep hours later though. Oh well, he’ll take it.
Oliver pulls himself out of his thoughts and recommits to giving Ryan all his attention, swallowing Ryan down again and again as he encourages Ryan to thrust into his mouth. Ryan moans, his fingers tightening in Oliver’s hair as he proceeds to fuck his mouth.
A deep, hot satisfaction curls through Oliver as he looks up at Ryan again and sees the effect he’s having on him—his eyes closed, his mouth open, his head thrown back against the door—losing control. The sheer pleasure written on every inch of Ryan’s body leaves Oliver feeling oddly proud of himself. He realises he wants it written all over himself as well, and that’s when the idea hits him.
Oliver pulls back just long enough to ask, “You wanna come?” And when Ryan nods jerkily, he says, “Come on my face then.”
Ryan looks surprised, like he can’t believe this is actually happening, but he’s clearly not about to argue. “Whatever you want.”
“Want it so bad,” Oliver admits, breathless and full of desperation. He wraps a hand around Ryan’s cock. “Want you to mark me up so there’s no doubt I’m all yours. I know you want it too.”
Ryan’s hips jerk, and he pulls himself out of Oliver’s mouth in an instant, wrapping his fingers tightly around the base of his cock.
“Gonna come right now if you keep talking like that,” Ryan warns him, and Oliver just laughs as he bats Ryan’s hand away and replaces it with his own. He lightly glides his hand from base to tip.
“That was kinda my goal,” Oliver points out as if it should be obvious.
“Fuck,” Ryan moans, heat hitting him like a gunshot as Oliver strokes him more eagerly now. Ryan’s breaths come shorter yet, and Oliver can tell he’s already mind-meltingly close. “Fuck, fucking, fuck—”
“C’mon,” Oliver encourages him. “Want you to make a mess. Want you all over me.”
Ryan reaches down, knocking Oliver’s hand off his cock only to replace it with his own. He strokes himself hard and fast as his other hand moves to fist Oliver’s hair, tilting Oliver’s head upwards until he’s only inches away from the tip of his cock, and holds him in place.
Oliver’s lips part as he gazes up at Ryan, and he can’t help but sneak a hand into his own pants to take a hold of himself. He’s about to come himself.
“Fuck,” he whines, voice ragged as he strokes himself rapidly, watching Ryan’s face. His strokes are relentless, quicker and quicker, and he watches Ryan’s own strokes match his pace. “Fuck, please, please—”
Ryan cries out as his orgasm crashes through him, coming in hot, pearly streaks right across Oliver’s face. It clings to his eyelashes, paints his birthmark and his cheeks, and lands messily across his parted lips as Oliver gives into his own release. Ryan’s hand stays tense where he’s gripping Oliver’s hair, stroking himself firmly through the waves of his climax, wringing out every last drop against Oliver’s open, inviting lips.
***
Ryan pants harshly as the roaring heat in his ears begins to fade, appearing to slowly come back to the world around him as he opens his eyes. Oliver watches as Ryan looks down to see him still kneeling in front of him, looking beautifully obscene. He lets his gaze lift to meet Ryan’s, looking blissfully content as he licks his lips, catching Ryan’s come on his tongue.
Ryan blinks dazedly before dropping to his knees before him, reaching out to wipe a streak of come off of his birthmark. Oliver huffs out a laugh and Ryan can’t seem to help but join him.
“Fuck, Oli,” Ryan breathes out reverently, pressing forward immediately to claim Oliver’s lips gently. It’s sweet—far sweeter than he was expecting—and it throws him off a little. He was so sure Ryan would insist this was a mistake, but maybe that’s not the case after all.
As Ryan’s tongue slides across his bottom lip, begging for entrance, Oliver gives a soft moan as he lets him in. His fingers reach out shakily to curl into the front of Ryan’s shirt and pull him close, and Ryan lets himself be tugged forward.
“I really am sorry, man. I’ve been a real dick,” Ryan whispers as they part. “I don’t know why you put up with me, to be honest.”
Yeah he does. Oliver’s pretty sure he hasn’t exactly tried to hide the way he feels. It’s written all over his face most of the time.
Oliver shrugs, deciding honesty is probably the best way forward. “You know how I feel.”
“Yeah,” Ryan says softly. “I guess I do.”
Ryan stares at him for a moment.
“Stop looking at me like that,” Oliver mumbles, looking away. “I’m not one of your girlfriends, remember? You’re the one who said you didn’t want to—”
Oliver cuts himself off, closing his eyes briefly and taking a deep breath. He hates this, the vulnerability of it all. He feels like he’s on display.
“I don’t want you to be one of my girlfriends,” Ryan says, interrupting his thoughts, and the honesty in his voice has Oliver resisting the urge to flinch. But he’s left stunned when Ryan follows it up with, “What if you were my boyfriend instead?”
“What the fuck?” Oliver accidentally mutters.
Ryan looks a little surprised, but he recovers quickly.
“I’ve been thinking about everything, about us, since I said we couldn’t do this anymore,” Ryan says, looking him right in the eyes. “And I realised I was being an idiot. But I think I’d be an even bigger idiot if I didn’t bury my pride and admit I was wrong before it’s too late. I’m hoping it’s not too late.”
Oliver huffs out a dry laugh. “Really?”
He watches Ryan for any signs of insincerity, but he can’t find any. Huh.
“Yeah, really,” Ryan repeats, apparently missing any signs of his trepidation. “So what do you say? You wanna give me another chance?”
Oliver almost can’t believe he’s hearing the words, and in an effort not to give Ryan time to change his mind, he pulls him into a devastating kiss before he even realises he’s doing it.
Ryan pulls away sooner than he’d like though, and Oliver groans.
“Sorry,” Ryan apologises. “It’s just—that’s a yes, right?”
“Yes, it’s a yes, dickhead,” Oliver responds with an eye roll. “Now come here.”
Ryan tugs him back in, and Oliver goes easily. He sinks into it, shifting forward on his knees and—
“Shit,” he hisses, pulling back. “Stupid knee.”
Ryan’s eyes widen for a split second before they quickly fill with understanding.
“Here, let me—” Ryan cuts himself off, jumping to his feet and offering Oliver a hand. Oliver takes his hand, and lets Ryan pull him to his feet to save himself the struggle.
“God, my knee’s gonna be a nightmare on set tomorrow,” Oliver complains as he stands fully, stretching his leg out a few times. It’s definitely more painful than it was earlier in the evening, but it’s kind of his own fault. “I gotta think twice before I do this shit.”
He says the words, but he knows he won't.
“You could always blame it on the All-Star game,” Ryan offers, a thoughtful look sliding onto his face. “It’s not like anybody’s gonna assume it was because you were on your knees sucking—”
Oh, fuck off.
Oliver kisses him again to shut him up.