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“It’s us, Rook. Yeah, there are some cracks, but it’s still standing strong, refusing to fall, refusing to give up. I refuse to give up on us, baby.”
“It’s…gorgeous,” Ryan whispered, wrapping his hands around Hayes’s back and pulling him forward so he could kiss it. “I love it.”
“Right over my heart. It belongs to you, anyway, Rook. It always has.”
Ryan deftly flipped Hayes over onto his back, climbing on top of him. He leaned down to kiss the tattoo once again, then moved up to Hayes’s lips and planted a series of soft kisses against them. “Hayes?”
“Yeah, Rook?”
“I’m ready.”
“Seriously? Are you for real right now?” Hayes asked, unable to contain his excitement.
“Yeah. Forget the past. I’m proud of you, I love you, and there’s no one who even comes close to you, Tyler. Not even fucking close. I wanna be your boyfriend again. Is that OK with you?”
Hayes laughed as he squeezed the life out of him. “Fuckin’ right it is!”
They lay there together, crying against each other for a bit, totally lost in the rhythm of the other one’s breathing.
Ryan finally let go and sat up, Hayes following suit. “So, uh, what are we gonna do?” Hayes motioned in the direction of the spare bedroom. “With him.”
Remembering their romp in the back of the Jeep, Ryan exhaled, then slid a hand slowly up the front of Hayes’s chest, across the tattoo, and stopped at his throat. He wrapped his fingers around it and squeezed lightly, but firmly, then pressed his forehead against his boyfriend’s. “What we’re gonna do with him is have some fun. Maybe the two of you should work together to show me just how sorry you really are.” Ryan tightened his grip. “And we’re not stopping until I’ve been convinced. Understood?”
Hayes, wide-eyed, nodded obediently.
“Good.”
Amends? (28)
“Have you never dried and put away fuckin’ dishes before, man? Jesus,” Hayes bitched, as TK was taking his sweet ass time. Hayes wound up the dish towel, waited for TK to reach up into the cabinet to put the plates away, and rat tailed him right on the ass with a loud snap.
“Shit!” he screamed, dropping to the floor. “Oh my God, it feels like I’ve been shot!”
Hayes stood there, doubled over and giggling, then wound up the towel again and got into a defensive stance as TK scrambled to his feet.
“Oh, it’s fucking on now, bitch,” TK warned, balling up a fist and punching his other hand before taking a run at Hayes.
Hayes juked around the island as TK came crashing into him, knocking him backward into one of the stools as they and it all fell to the ground with an obnoxious thud.
“Yo! Can you morons, like, not destroy my kitchen, maybe?” Ryan yelled from the living room upon hearing the commotion.
“Sorry!” TK yelled, still straddling Hayes and sliding his hands up the front of his chest under his shirt. He rocked his hips slightly into his teammate’s when he felt his dick getting hard but was quickly met with resistance.
“Come on, Teek. Don’t.” Hayes said quietly, gripping TK’s forearms with both hands and attempting to push him away.
“Seems like you, uh, want me to,” TK observed with one more painfully slow roll of his hips before climbing off Hayes and standing up. He reached a hand out and helped him to his feet.
“He might,” Hayes said, motioning toward the bulge in his pants. “But I can’t.”
“What? You two back together?”
Hayes nodded.
“Good. I’m happy for you,” TK said flatly.
Hayes rolled his eyes as TK picked up the stool and restored it to its original position. “Yeah, it really sounds like it.”
“I am, baby. I just…” He paused, heading back over to the dish drainer, picking up a towel, and beginning to dry a pan.
