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I know you liked it.
[His voice is almost toneless when he makes the statement. Then there are deliberate flashes of Ryan's back on the desk, hips between Petre's legs as he rode him, shifting the desk with each thrust. He made sure Ryan's thoughts were vocal, made sure he was quiet so he could hear it all. They barely even got their clothes out of the way, didn't they. Rushed, sloppy, hard. No less amazing for it, because Petre knew exactly what he was doing and Ryan was more than willing to learn a thing or two.]
Aw. Looking for love.
[His voice is almost toneless when he makes the statement. Then there are deliberate flashes of Ryan's back on the desk, hips between Petre's legs as he rode him, shifting the desk with each thrust. He made sure Ryan's thoughts were vocal, made sure he was quiet so he could hear it all. They barely even got their clothes out of the way, didn't they. Rushed, sloppy, hard. No less amazing for it, because Petre knew exactly what he was doing and Ryan was more than willing to learn a thing or two.]
Aw. Looking for love.
[That keeps him from answering for several moments, clearly distracted by those thoughts-- he remembers it well enough himself, and having the memories pushed back into the front of his mind leaves him getting a bit lost in them at first, lip catching between his teeth as he sucks in a shaky breath.
It was good, really fucking good, and that's exactly the problem. That's not what he wants to think about right now, he can't afford the distraction--]
It's... it's not like that.
[His answer comes late, gaze still on anything in the room except Petre.]
Not love. Just- more than screwing around.
It was good, really fucking good, and that's exactly the problem. That's not what he wants to think about right now, he can't afford the distraction--]
It's... it's not like that.
[His answer comes late, gaze still on anything in the room except Petre.]
Not love. Just- more than screwing around.
[The thing is, he wouldn't really care. He has this, there's still the capability there for something this nice, and whatever else there might be-- it's the kind of thing he'll always consider a good sign.
Ryan's reluctant to let go of it and let things intensify the way John wants, not responding with the same intent at first; it's easy enough to spark his interest, though, and only a few moments pass before he's nipping at John's lip and sliding his hands down to grip at his hips.]
Little impatient, huh?
Ryan's reluctant to let go of it and let things intensify the way John wants, not responding with the same intent at first; it's easy enough to spark his interest, though, and only a few moments pass before he's nipping at John's lip and sliding his hands down to grip at his hips.]
Little impatient, huh?
I still have a lot to learn.
[He grins against Ryan's mouth, then pulls back, looking at him curiously.]
My eyes? [It's a thought from a few moments ago, but it's stuck with him. He's confident in his good looks overall (could stand to be taller, of course), but he doesn't see anything special about his eyes, which he knows he heard Ryan thinking about.]
[He grins against Ryan's mouth, then pulls back, looking at him curiously.]
My eyes? [It's a thought from a few moments ago, but it's stuck with him. He's confident in his good looks overall (could stand to be taller, of course), but he doesn't see anything special about his eyes, which he knows he heard Ryan thinking about.]
They're nice.
[It's a simple enough answer, a little absent; now that he's been prompted about that thought Ryan's staring into them again, reaching up to cup the side of John's face.]
You don't usually see blue ones that dark.
[He'd thought they were a different color at first, and he's willing to bet most others do, too. It makes it a sort of secret-- he's been near enough to know, paid enough attention, and there's a little sense of closeness in that.]
[It's a simple enough answer, a little absent; now that he's been prompted about that thought Ryan's staring into them again, reaching up to cup the side of John's face.]
You don't usually see blue ones that dark.
[He'd thought they were a different color at first, and he's willing to bet most others do, too. It makes it a sort of secret-- he's been near enough to know, paid enough attention, and there's a little sense of closeness in that.]
Oh. That, yeah. [That gets another little grin out of him.] Had a few people just say "Holy shit, your eyes are blue" when they noticed. They always look blue to me, but apparently not most of the time.
[They're his dad's eyes, but he won't say that: speaking of family always requires proprietary language - my dad, my mom - and they're not his as far as he's concerned, any more than he's theirs. A little flash of a face slips through, though, arrogantly handsome and much more rugged than John's, with those same dark, dark blue eyes and framed by equally dark hair. John doesn't take after his dad in any other feature.]
[They're his dad's eyes, but he won't say that: speaking of family always requires proprietary language - my dad, my mom - and they're not his as far as he's concerned, any more than he's theirs. A little flash of a face slips through, though, arrogantly handsome and much more rugged than John's, with those same dark, dark blue eyes and framed by equally dark hair. John doesn't take after his dad in any other feature.]
You have to be close to notice. That's probably why.
[He catches that image, has a pretty good idea of whose face it is-- but he's not about to comment, not on that kind of topic. Instead he simply lets his thumb brush wonderingly over John's cheekbone, another easy and affectionate little touch.
Kind of like how people don't notice the sky being dark blue, either, he muses idly, and then: ...fuck, that's dumb, don't think that out loud.]
[He catches that image, has a pretty good idea of whose face it is-- but he's not about to comment, not on that kind of topic. Instead he simply lets his thumb brush wonderingly over John's cheekbone, another easy and affectionate little touch.
Kind of like how people don't notice the sky being dark blue, either, he muses idly, and then: ...fuck, that's dumb, don't think that out loud.]
[petre bites his lip when ryan does the same, and it makes him look boyish, jovial, playful. Because thats all that this is - a game he's playing, still deciding what the winner gets.]
So - not a fuckbuddy, but not a boyfriend, either. Where does that leave you?
So - not a fuckbuddy, but not a boyfriend, either. Where does that leave you?
If it all works out? Leaves me happy enough with what I've got, hopefully.
[Ryan shrugs one shoulder, doing his best to look more casual than he feels-- and trying not to let anything else slip, despite that being a bit of a hopeless effort. He obviously has someone in mind, brief memories flicking through of them settled in his lap, kissing him; there's no face or voice, luckily, but that has nothing to do with his attempts to keep it quiet.]
[Ryan shrugs one shoulder, doing his best to look more casual than he feels-- and trying not to let anything else slip, despite that being a bit of a hopeless effort. He obviously has someone in mind, brief memories flicking through of them settled in his lap, kissing him; there's no face or voice, luckily, but that has nothing to do with his attempts to keep it quiet.]
[Petre doesn't need a face or voice. His jealousy makes him paranoid, and his paranoia points him to what should be obvious. He followed John to this room, one day. When John convinced him to lift the order and Petre convinced him he'd be locked in their bathroom for a long time.
Why else would he come here? Ryan's room. They have absolutely nothing in common. What the fuck does he have that makes him so special?
They're all thoughts that pour out, not explicitly, just in waves of emotions. Ryan should have no trouble piecing things together, though, especially when Petre presses his lips and purses them unpleasantly. Almost a contained little snarl.]
I hope you're very happy.
[Not quite sarcasm. His tone is quiet. Holding something back. Then his smile becomes cynical all over again, a snake holding still just before it strikes.]
Why else would he come here? Ryan's room. They have absolutely nothing in common. What the fuck does he have that makes him so special?
They're all thoughts that pour out, not explicitly, just in waves of emotions. Ryan should have no trouble piecing things together, though, especially when Petre presses his lips and purses them unpleasantly. Almost a contained little snarl.]
I hope you're very happy.
[Not quite sarcasm. His tone is quiet. Holding something back. Then his smile becomes cynical all over again, a snake holding still just before it strikes.]
[Those waves of emotion and the look on Petre's face tell him all he needs to know. He knows, or at least suspects-- Ryan had hoped he wouldn't, that they could keep it quiet, but he should have known that was bound to fail. He's too invested in John for it to escape his notice forever.
More than that, though, it worries him. He promised John more than once he'd stay out of whatever fucked up thing is going on between him and Petre, and if he's honest with himself? Knowing what Petre can do, the fact that they're alone here worries him more than anything.]
I don't know.
[The confusion there is genuine. Being around the guy does make him happy, he can't deny that, but he's not sure the affection's mutual-- and like hell he's answering that with a 'yes'.]
More than that, though, it worries him. He promised John more than once he'd stay out of whatever fucked up thing is going on between him and Petre, and if he's honest with himself? Knowing what Petre can do, the fact that they're alone here worries him more than anything.]
I don't know.
[The confusion there is genuine. Being around the guy does make him happy, he can't deny that, but he's not sure the affection's mutual-- and like hell he's answering that with a 'yes'.]
That's a shame.
[A lie that slips from his tongue like poison. But one doesn't need to read minds to know that - Petre is being abundantly deliberate. He hopes Ryan feels uncomfortable. Hopes there's guilt and shame. Anything that brings him down to the level where he belongs.]
But some people just can't figure out what they want.
[Had Ryan heard conversations between him and John, he'd know - Petre's accused him repeatedly of this. Not knowing what he wants. In reality Petre is only accusing him of not wanting the same things he wants. At least not yet.]
You're gonna learn you're better off without people that. Probably the hard way.
[He says that knowing perfectly well just how rotten he is, just how rotten John is in turn. They deserve only each other.]
[A lie that slips from his tongue like poison. But one doesn't need to read minds to know that - Petre is being abundantly deliberate. He hopes Ryan feels uncomfortable. Hopes there's guilt and shame. Anything that brings him down to the level where he belongs.]
But some people just can't figure out what they want.
[Had Ryan heard conversations between him and John, he'd know - Petre's accused him repeatedly of this. Not knowing what he wants. In reality Petre is only accusing him of not wanting the same things he wants. At least not yet.]
You're gonna learn you're better off without people that. Probably the hard way.
[He says that knowing perfectly well just how rotten he is, just how rotten John is in turn. They deserve only each other.]
Close.
[Yeah, that'd do it. Not that many people get close to him in any way. It's starting to hit him the same way it hit Ryan now, the odd intimacy of having an eye colour that requires close range examination and the fact that Ryan chose it as the part of his face he liked best. This is definitely someone who enjoys closeness, as much as John fears it.
The next thought, along with Ryan's warning to himself not to think it so that John can hear it. makes him laugh in spite of himself. He's still laughing when he bends to kiss Ryan again, but it gradually evens out so that he can kiss properly, without the earlier impatient heat but still very focussed and intent.]
[Yeah, that'd do it. Not that many people get close to him in any way. It's starting to hit him the same way it hit Ryan now, the odd intimacy of having an eye colour that requires close range examination and the fact that Ryan chose it as the part of his face he liked best. This is definitely someone who enjoys closeness, as much as John fears it.
The next thought, along with Ryan's warning to himself not to think it so that John can hear it. makes him laugh in spite of himself. He's still laughing when he bends to kiss Ryan again, but it gradually evens out so that he can kiss properly, without the earlier impatient heat but still very focussed and intent.]
I'm pretty sure you didn't come here to try to give me relationship advice.
[It's sharp, would be snapped if he'd said it aloud- but that's all to cover up the doubt. Ryan still remembers the last time he went over to their dorm room, making out on John's bed, bits of conversation in-between.
You're not gonna hurt me. John's voice, answered by Ryan's-
I don't want to hurt you. I won't.
And the part of the memory that sparked up that doubt: don't, this is so fucking perfect, Ryan, don't ruin it now-
All of that comes out far more coherently than he'd be comfortable with if he knew, but he's not really thinking about that.]
If this is all you wanted to talk about, I think we're done.
[It's sharp, would be snapped if he'd said it aloud- but that's all to cover up the doubt. Ryan still remembers the last time he went over to their dorm room, making out on John's bed, bits of conversation in-between.
You're not gonna hurt me. John's voice, answered by Ryan's-
I don't want to hurt you. I won't.
And the part of the memory that sparked up that doubt: don't, this is so fucking perfect, Ryan, don't ruin it now-
All of that comes out far more coherently than he'd be comfortable with if he knew, but he's not really thinking about that.]
If this is all you wanted to talk about, I think we're done.
[The laugh makes it obvious that thought had slipped out after all-- Ryan wrinkles his nose, but when John kisses him that faintly-amused annoyance quickly slips from his face. There's a soft, barely audible murmur against his lips, equal intent on his own side this time; it might not have the same lazy sweetness Ryan had started this all off with, but the lack of that impatience is still something he can definitely appreciate.]
[It's subtle enough that Ryan may not have noticed, but every time he makes an actual noise, John shivers just a little - it's so unexpected, and something about it is so genuine and raw when Ryan can't even speak, that it strikes him in a very deep place. Just the tiniest of murmurs hits him harder than the deepest, loudest moan from someone else, because Ryan couldn't fake that if he wanted to.
Part of him really, really wants to hear Ryan speak. It's not a fair wish, like having a friend in a wheelchair and wanting to go jogging with them, but he likes the gentle and slightly high-toned voice he hears in his head. He wants to feel the hot breath of it against his ear, feel the vibration of it in Ryan's chest when he's lying against him. Intimate things, like Ryan staring into his eyes until he noticed they were blue.
(shit that's not I can't think like) A nervous, broken edge of a thought, but he just slides a hand up Ryan's side and kisses him more deeply, trying once again to lose himself in the physical sensation. The hand slips up under Ryan's shirt, anchoring John with a flat press against his abdomen, and he shifts his hips a little to lean in a bit more closely.]
Part of him really, really wants to hear Ryan speak. It's not a fair wish, like having a friend in a wheelchair and wanting to go jogging with them, but he likes the gentle and slightly high-toned voice he hears in his head. He wants to feel the hot breath of it against his ear, feel the vibration of it in Ryan's chest when he's lying against him. Intimate things, like Ryan staring into his eyes until he noticed they were blue.
(shit that's not I can't think like) A nervous, broken edge of a thought, but he just slides a hand up Ryan's side and kisses him more deeply, trying once again to lose himself in the physical sensation. The hand slips up under Ryan's shirt, anchoring John with a flat press against his abdomen, and he shifts his hips a little to lean in a bit more closely.]
[He hasn't noticed it before, but he's paying enough attention to John this time that he does catch that little shiver-- it's an unexpectedly rewarding thing, getting that reaction from him, made just as frustrating for the fact that he can't control it. Even when he tries to do it on purpose he can never manage anything more than those small sounds, never words, can't tell John any of the things he wants to and let him hear how he feels in the subtle little wavers and inconsistencies; he can still hear Ryan's breath catch, the shaky way he exhales at times, but he's not going to hear that reflected in breathless murmurs rather than soft thoughts.
He doesn't push for an explanation when he catches that thought, trying almost as hard as John is to just focus on everything they're doing. His hand slides up to run through his hair again, slides down his jaw, fingers splaying gently over his throat to trace down it to his collarbone.]
-more.
[It's a simple demand, quick and to the point.]
He doesn't push for an explanation when he catches that thought, trying almost as hard as John is to just focus on everything they're doing. His hand slides up to run through his hair again, slides down his jaw, fingers splaying gently over his throat to trace down it to his collarbone.]
-more.
[It's a simple demand, quick and to the point.]
[Again, John smiles against his mouth, letting out his own little murmur at the warm path of Ryan's hand over his face and chest. More, huh? This time his hips move more pointedly, rolling down to create friction between them.]
I picked last time. What do you wanna do?
I picked last time. What do you wanna do?
[This is his room, he can kick out whoever he wants-- the stunned, almost angry look on his face lasts only a moment, though. Petre had made him invite him in when he didn't want to, and if he isn't ready to leave then there's nothing Ryan can do. Not when all it would take is giving him an order.
So he sits; he isn't moving to the bed, perching instead on his roommate's to keep some distance, and once he settles he watches Petre warily.]
...What else do you want.
So he sits; he isn't moving to the bed, perching instead on his roommate's to keep some distance, and once he settles he watches Petre warily.]
...What else do you want.
[He makes a gesture, hand lifting as though telling Ryan that it should be obvious. Isn't it?]
We're catching up. You're telling me exactly what you've been doing, and I'm deciding what I'm going to do about it. [there's only a beat before he suddenly looks down and reaches into his pocket.] Mind if I smoke?
[either way he's lighting that cigarette. Sorry, Ryan, your room's going to stink of tobacco.]
We're still working out the kinks, though. First you have to be honest with me. Or I can just figure out just how much you're going to regret not doing that.
We're catching up. You're telling me exactly what you've been doing, and I'm deciding what I'm going to do about it. [there's only a beat before he suddenly looks down and reaches into his pocket.] Mind if I smoke?
[either way he's lighting that cigarette. Sorry, Ryan, your room's going to stink of tobacco.]
We're still working out the kinks, though. First you have to be honest with me. Or I can just figure out just how much you're going to regret not doing that.
[That's a threat if he's ever heard one, and with how awful he is at lying... there's no choice but to tell the truth. Leaving the details out hasn't kept it from coming to this.]
--hanging out with John, mostly. Met him not long before I ran into you, the first time.
[And after a beat, he continues:]
And I know what's been going on with you two. What you've been doing to him. It's not his fault, I just- picked things up, he couldn't have hidden it-- we've talked, but I made him do it, alright? I asked about all of it.
[The least he can do is try not to let this come down too hard on John's head.]
...and I've been with him. Sort of. Not the same way as with you, nothing like that, but.
--hanging out with John, mostly. Met him not long before I ran into you, the first time.
[And after a beat, he continues:]
And I know what's been going on with you two. What you've been doing to him. It's not his fault, I just- picked things up, he couldn't have hidden it-- we've talked, but I made him do it, alright? I asked about all of it.
[The least he can do is try not to let this come down too hard on John's head.]
...and I've been with him. Sort of. Not the same way as with you, nothing like that, but.
You've been trying to fuck him, is what you're saying.
[voice deceivingly relaxed. His eyes are set on Ryan. He looks like he could burn through metal with his glare. How dare he. John was supposed to be his - and he was right. He was right to implant that order in him. He's fucking around with other guys while trying to shove him off. The thought makes him absolutely furious.
And he dared to say he proved himself. Lying son of a bitch.]
Do you do that to every boy that comes crying to you, or was he just special?
[voice deceivingly relaxed. His eyes are set on Ryan. He looks like he could burn through metal with his glare. How dare he. John was supposed to be his - and he was right. He was right to implant that order in him. He's fucking around with other guys while trying to shove him off. The thought makes him absolutely furious.
And he dared to say he proved himself. Lying son of a bitch.]
Do you do that to every boy that comes crying to you, or was he just special?
But-
[ looks up. no clouds. ]
They'll show up.
[ looks up. no clouds. ]
They'll show up.
[And again, Ryan can't look at him, not with that glare fixed on him. Avoiding his eyes won't make it go away, he swears he can still feel it, but seeing it is worse. His hands are in his lap, fingers laced together as he fidgets anxiously.]
It's not like that, I'm not-- we're just friends, alright, that's all. He never came crying to me, I told you, it slipped and I got the rest of it out of him, it... we just talked. He's the only one I really talk to.
[Ryan's not even sure why he adds that last part. Not to make any sort of point, he knows it's probably not what Petre wants to hear- but he'd been told to be honest. Decided to listen to that demand. It simply spills out along with the rest.]
It's not like that, I'm not-- we're just friends, alright, that's all. He never came crying to me, I told you, it slipped and I got the rest of it out of him, it... we just talked. He's the only one I really talk to.
[Ryan's not even sure why he adds that last part. Not to make any sort of point, he knows it's probably not what Petre wants to hear- but he'd been told to be honest. Decided to listen to that demand. It simply spills out along with the rest.]
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