Fic: Always Cupid, Never Lover
Title: Always Cupid, Never Lover
Fandom: Castle
Pairing: Ryan/Esposito
Rating: R
Warning/s: The physical celebration of love. Sex
Author's Note:Written for bemineficathon, prompt: Ryan keeps finding Valentine's in his locked desk drawer.
The first valentine leaves glitter all over his desk.
Ryan pulls it out of the drawer, turns it this way and that, searching for a hint of its sender. There isn’t any. Which is too bad because he could use a date, his social life being somewhat lacking in the romance department as of late. He fingers the lacy edges. It’s obviously homemade, the cardboard cut unevenly and glue showing through in spots on the lace and Ryan grins at the effort that went into making the gift.
It isn’t until he gets home that he realizes that he found the valentine inside the only locked drawer of his desk.
***
Glitter clings to his shoes and pants, his hands and hair. Esposito sighs, picking at the annoyance stuck to his skin. He should have known this would happen.
He hadn’t said anything when she’d asked him to open Ryan’s desk drawer, her blush too cute to tease with more than a grin and really it’d been fun, watching his partner find the valentine and stare at it puzzlement for long moments. Though he’d been expecting the man to find him and show it off. Grunting, Esposito plops back into his chair, and watches the glitter spread from Ryan’s desk to his like a mini-plague. He frowns at the multi-colored bits of decoration in sudden distaste.
He hadn’t expected his stomach to clench when Ryan smiled at the valentine, a taste too close to jealousy coating his tongue. Staring off at nothing, he convinces himself the discomfort in his gut is only because he hasn’t received a valentine yet and has nothing to do with how long it’s been since Ryan’s smiled at him that way.
***
The second card isn’t homemade.
It features a classic image of Tweety-Bird, the cartoon character sending love to all that receive him. It’s childish and Ryan tilts his head in confusion. Despite its young, fun appearance, the handwritten message inside - Be Mine in strong, solid lettering - makes the card seem almost…harsh. He must be imagining the glint in Tweety’s eye. Dismissing the chill chasing his spine, Ryan places the new card in a different drawer, to better keep track.
He doesn’t mention either of the gifts to Esposito, choosing instead to wait until he’s gotten a third. No need to brag too soon.
***
There was something about the way that the second woman asked that made the corners of his mouth pinch. It was almost…entitled. Expectant. He shook it off quick, chiding himself for being petty and ridiculous.
Opening the drawer with his pilfered copy of the key, Esposito’d promised himself it was the last time. It really wasn’t right to dig through Ryan’s private drawer anyways, and there really wasn’t any reason to encourage the women either. The promise gave Esposito more practice at convincing himself of half-truths as he pointedly ignored the nagging voice in the back of his mind warning him of his lies.
Unfortunately, he hasn’t always been the most strong-willed and the third woman breaks his promise.
***
The third makes his hair stand on end and sweat break out on his forehead.
Once again it’s inside the locked drawer. The drawer doesn’t show signs of forced entry, which is troublesome on its own, the fact that he’s only left his desk for a few minutes since this morning - when his drawer was definitely empty of valentines - adding to the sense that something is very much not right. Though the card itself appears pretty harmless.
It’s moderately sized, blood red and shiny, the outside being a simple design of - he believes the word is embossed - hearts. This isn’t what makes his stomach flop heavily. It’s the message inside. Direct, blunt, it tells of possession, control, demands. It reminds him of the brothel full of dominas and the woman who needed her spiked boots untied. It isn’t his style of love.
The valentine never makes it to his apartment, finding a dumpster as its new home.
***
It doesn’t take long for the requests to become annoying. They all seem to believe its his job to deliver their silly little cards, as if he lives to play match-maker and it starts to get under his skin, edging deeper and deeper with each trip to Ryan’s desk. It doesn’t help that he still hasn’t received any cards himself.
He’s not sure why his desk has remained empty, or why the whole precinct has fallen for Ryan. It does appear to be the entire precinct as well, with his suspicion confirmed when Officer McEnroe shyly approached him in the locker room one Friday, blush running from the top of his cheeks to the base of his neck. The poor kid had stuttered so bad, complexion pale and eyes vaguely frightened, that Esposito couldn’t bring himself to mention that despite his knowledge of Ryan's slight leanings toward his own sex, he’s never known Ryan to actually date a man. Instead of trying to explain though, he’d simply taken the folded note from McEnroe and promised to never breath a word of it.
McEnroe quickly became the lead-in to a pattern. Requests start to come from both genders and a wide range of ages. The situation gets wilder every day, but the details don’t matter as much as the fact that he’s constantly running around for others now. Soon he’s getting asked two, three times a day to deliver. It’s then that he begins snapping at people.
***
Weeks go by and news of Ryan’s deliveries spreads. The rate of gifting increases steadily, up to the point that he’s getting three or four a day. All in the locked drawer.
Light pink with hearts, white with fake kiss marks, with real kiss marks, with sweet promises, with dirty wishes. Each is different and Ryan begins to wonder if he’s really this damn popular or if the precinct’s population of women have all gone crazy. Or perhaps it’s all a joke.
Once he begins receiving valentines from the men of the building - surprisingly less lewd than some of the ones from the women - the joke option seems more likely and so Ryan begins spying on the only suspect he has.
Esposito.
***
He can feel eyes on his back.
The sensation has followed him for the last three days, burning hot between his shoulder blades. Esposito sidesteps around a corner, stands stone still for the count of five then glances slyly back around the corner. Searching. Finding no one behind him, Esposito shakes his head ruefully. He’s getting paranoid with age.
***
It’s obvious something’s going on. Esposito’s constantly ducking into corners, checking over his shoulder at odd moments, standing too close to Ryan’s desk. Ryan knows about the key too. It all adds up and Ryan frowns at the floor, too lost in his own thoughts to realize that the conversation around him has stopped. The silence shouts for his attention.
“Wha?” Pulling out his patented confused face, Ryan glances up.
Castle’s smiling at him happily, fondness etched around his eyes. “The Old Haunt? To celebrate another case well solved!”
Beckett rolls her eyes at Castle’s enthusiasm. The common sight tugs a smile out to play on Ryan’s lips. “Sure man, sounds great!”
With that the group shifts, grabbing coats and phones, milling slowly toward the door. Ryan snags his coat off the back of his chair; pausing when he notices the space at his side is empty.
Esposito stalls, hanging back by their set of desks awkwardly. Ryan turns to face him, focused gaze holding the Latino steady. Ryan draws the tension out; certain Esposito can feel it building between them. He waits for the man to show he’s following. Esposito continues to hover, holding back from the rest of the retreating group. It hits Ryan then. Before he’s only half-suspected, but the denial dies under the weight of evidence. He rolls it around his head - Esposito’s the one placing the valentines in his desk, using the key Ryan knows he copied to hide them where no one else could stumble across them. Where he knows Ryan goes every day to store his private and important papers. It hurts that his partner would go through so much trouble to trick him and the joke just feels cruel now. There have been too many cards, and it’s apparent that Esposito wanted badly to build him up before confessing to the truth, that there’d been no true valentines. That it’d all been a joke. Normally, effort put into a prank would be appreciated but this time it’s gone too far.
There’s a sinking sensation in his chest and Ryan nods a quiet goodbye to Esposito, trailing Castle into the elevator.
He doesn’t go to the bar.
***
“I don’t think it’s funny.”
Esposito swivels in his chair to face the back of Ryan’s head. “What’s not funny?”
“When best friends play tricks on each other.” Ryan gestures toward the interrogation rooms, the reference to their current case clear - pranks gone wrong from the looks of things - but the light in the man’s eyes speak of a different matter altogether. Esposito fidgets nervously. He hasn’t played a prank on Ryan in months so it must be something recent, something only related to pranks through Ryan’s, at times, strange logic.
He shrugs. “I don’t see anything wrong with it, bro. As long as it doesn’t go too far. These jokers forgot where the line is. Or just didn’t care.” He waits to see if it sinks in, if Ryan gets that he’s saying he’d never cross that line with him, but the comment doesn’t seem to land right. If at all. Ryan spins back to his computer screen, frown marring his normally calm face.
Esposito sighs inwardly. Grabbing the reports Beckett’s waiting on, he stands, reviewing the last couple of weeks for a clue as to what’s upset his partner. The valentines enter his mind only briefly, dismissed almost immediately as a positive occurrence. Though Ryan has yet to bring them up. The lack of crowing over the displays of affection isn’t like his partner and it gives him pause. Esposito stops moving, standing still just long enough to catch Ryan’s muttered, “I think you’ve lost sight of the line.”
***
Esposito doesn’t understand the accusation in Ryan’s voice, the cause for anger, but he does understand that he’s somehow upset his partner. It sits high and heavy on his back, just at the base of his neck and no amount of exercise knocks the burden loose. Wiping sweat from his brow, Esposito strips down and climbs into his shower. The water’s spray clears the air, steam opening pores and cleaning out his body. Finally feeling refreshed, he closes his eyes and accepts facts. Esposito’s been nothing but a good boy for months, leaving no other option for Ryan’s disproval than the valentines. Combined with Ryan’s lack of bragging about the gifts it fits for a cause. Esposito still doesn’t understand why the man would be upset, or how exactly it’s connected to their prank-case, but ultimately it doesn’t matter. If Ryan doesn’t like him placing valentines in his desk for the men and women then Esposito won’t continue.
The decision brings relief with it and Esposito scowls at the emotion flooding his veins.
***
The valentines stop appearing.
***
They’re eating lunch at the Old Haunt a week later the next time the valentines are brought up. Ryan makes a shy comment, awkwardly trying to thank Esposito for ceasing the joke. Esposito quirks his head at his partner, confusion on his face completely missed by Ryan. Esposito pays for the meal, nodding vaguely at Ryan’s stumbled over words. They stroll out of the bar in companionable silence, heading back to the precinct.
Ryan thinks it’s all over.
***
Until February Fourteenth.
***
The last valentine isn’t actually a valentine. It’s really nothing more than a scribbled heart on a scrap of paper. But he thinks it’s cute and sweet anyways. Better than the others. Especially once he recognizes the style of writing that created the heart and the receipt it’s scrawled on. It erases the past few weeks in an instant, the reason behind the previous valentines no longer a concern. Ryan slips the tiny treasure into his pocket next to his keys, small smile tugging on his lips, plans for accepting the valentine in person forming with each step toward the giver’s home.
***
Why he gave into the urge to leave behind the piece of silly teenage stupidity is beyond him. Esposito lets the fridge door fall shut, his mind too distracted to shift through the contents of his kitchen, hunger paling in the face of his rising discomfort.
He takes a moment to hope that Ryan never finds the heart-decorated receipt. A knock at his door distracts him, yanking him away from self-pity.
***
Ryan places his own valentines on Esposito’s skin, his tongue drawing hearts and love around nipples and across ribs. His partner groans beneath him, fists clenched tight, jerking the sheet off the corners of the mattress. Ryan smiles against goose-pimpled flesh, infinitely pleased with himself. Scrapping his nails down to Esposito’s hips Ryan rises up to grin at the man’s closed eyes before bending down to lick a line up his partner’s dick.
He’s choking on cock, spit slicking his lips, the natural lubricant keeping his mouth from getting raw. His jaw aches after only a couple of minutes but he doesn’t stop, too wound up and eager for more. Fists clench in his hair, tugging in rapid jerks, trying to force him up and away. Esposito’s thighs tremble beneath his hands. Letting his body settle between Esposito’s legs completely, Ryan relaxes his throat. There’s a harsh growl somewhere in the distance, and Ryan strains his eyes toward Esposito’s face, trying to catch his expression. He can’t quite and he feels the loss as a physical wound.
Dropping the dick from his mouth, Ryan inches back up to kiss Esposito’s eyes open.
“Gonna watch you come.”
Esposito curses violently. His head lolls back and forth, Ryan’s hand squeezing the man’s cock in increasingly hard and fast pulses. Twisting his wrist on every upstroke, Ryan bites at Esposito’s jaw, relishing the feel of masculinity between his teeth. A sudden thought nags. Ryan rears back up, hand going still.
“Why’d you do it, Javier?”
Esposito’s eyes take a moment to steady on him, the barely open slits staring uncomprehending.
“Javier…” Ryan smirks. “Can you even understand me?”
“All I understand is that you’ve stopped.” Esposito glares, unsuccessful at appearing menacing. “You need to fix that.”
“Answer my question first.” Ryan resumes stroking briefly, the jerks to Esposito’s dick matching the rhythm of his words. “The. Valentines. In. My. Desk.” He stops again. “Why Javier?”
Frustration bubbles out of Esposito, and this time he does look somewhat menacing. “Damn lovestruck idiots made me okay! I was just doing them a favor.” He grabs Ryan’s hand. “Now get moving man!”
Ryan’s too surprised, then ashamed, to hear Esposito’s demand. It takes a smack upside the head to get him moving again. Ryan pushes the urge to apologize profusely away for later...when they’re not in the middle of having fun.
He darts forward to plant a kiss square on Esposito’s lips then slinks his body back down to finish the job. Wrapping his tongue as best he can around the thick dick in his hand, Ryan works his throat back open, swallowing repeatedly to massage the head. Esposito leaks down Ryan’s throat, salty taste almost missing his taste buds completely with how deep-seated Esposito’s cock is. Ryan keeps milking Esposito for all he’s worth, his partner’s dick swelling noticeably. Nails scratch at the nape of Ryan’s neck, a half-hearted warning as Esposito arches up sharply to bury himself to the hilt. Ryan takes it easily, just barely keeping from gagging on the thick liquid that fills his mouth.
Easing himself off Esposito, Ryan nudges at the man’s softened cock with his nose in delight at his achievement. He sucks one testicle into his stretched out and used mouth to suckle for a moment, catching his breath. Popping the testicle back out, Ryan rises to his knees. He straddles Esposito’s waist, balancing with one hand pressed to Esposito’s chest. The other reaches between his own legs and cups his balls. He only allows himself a harsh squeeze before he circles fingers around his dick and begins tugging. Pinching the head, he lets his eyes wander, mapping out Esposito’s bones and muscles, trying to decide what he wants to do the next time he’s in his partner’s bed. It’s a toss up between full on anal and simply playing with the man. Images of both rush through his mind and he shudders, hand stuttering on his dick. A hand that isn’t his presses hard knuckles a scant inch behind his balls and his vision whites.
Stars burst on the inside of his eyelids, breath stuck somewhere in his chest, pressure building until it’s nearly painful. Ryan isn’t sure how long he’s out for. When he comes back to reality he’s on his back with Esposito grinning down at him. The corners of his mouth are sticking together, come’s smeared across Esposito’s abs and there are teeth marks everywhere. A different sort of pleasure jitters in Ryan’s bones, happiness desperate to break out through his seams. He doesn’t feel safe to speak and so pulls Esposito down to raid his partner’s mouth. Tongues tangle sleepily, poking at teeth and gums, dipping and diving in mimicry of a larger event. Ryan lets his eyes stay closed as Esposito brushes lips against the outer shell of his ear. There’s a whisper of air, an amused laugh pushing enquiring words into Ryan’s shutting down mind.
“So, when do I get my apology?”
***
Ryan does apologize. So much so that Esposito resorts to tackling him to the floor and ravishing him for near two hours.
They spend the rest of the weekend exploring each other.
Fandom: Castle
Pairing: Ryan/Esposito
Rating: R
Warning/s: The physical celebration of love. Sex
Author's Note:Written for bemineficathon, prompt: Ryan keeps finding Valentine's in his locked desk drawer.
The first valentine leaves glitter all over his desk.
Ryan pulls it out of the drawer, turns it this way and that, searching for a hint of its sender. There isn’t any. Which is too bad because he could use a date, his social life being somewhat lacking in the romance department as of late. He fingers the lacy edges. It’s obviously homemade, the cardboard cut unevenly and glue showing through in spots on the lace and Ryan grins at the effort that went into making the gift.
It isn’t until he gets home that he realizes that he found the valentine inside the only locked drawer of his desk.
***
Glitter clings to his shoes and pants, his hands and hair. Esposito sighs, picking at the annoyance stuck to his skin. He should have known this would happen.
He hadn’t said anything when she’d asked him to open Ryan’s desk drawer, her blush too cute to tease with more than a grin and really it’d been fun, watching his partner find the valentine and stare at it puzzlement for long moments. Though he’d been expecting the man to find him and show it off. Grunting, Esposito plops back into his chair, and watches the glitter spread from Ryan’s desk to his like a mini-plague. He frowns at the multi-colored bits of decoration in sudden distaste.
He hadn’t expected his stomach to clench when Ryan smiled at the valentine, a taste too close to jealousy coating his tongue. Staring off at nothing, he convinces himself the discomfort in his gut is only because he hasn’t received a valentine yet and has nothing to do with how long it’s been since Ryan’s smiled at him that way.
***
The second card isn’t homemade.
It features a classic image of Tweety-Bird, the cartoon character sending love to all that receive him. It’s childish and Ryan tilts his head in confusion. Despite its young, fun appearance, the handwritten message inside - Be Mine in strong, solid lettering - makes the card seem almost…harsh. He must be imagining the glint in Tweety’s eye. Dismissing the chill chasing his spine, Ryan places the new card in a different drawer, to better keep track.
He doesn’t mention either of the gifts to Esposito, choosing instead to wait until he’s gotten a third. No need to brag too soon.
***
There was something about the way that the second woman asked that made the corners of his mouth pinch. It was almost…entitled. Expectant. He shook it off quick, chiding himself for being petty and ridiculous.
Opening the drawer with his pilfered copy of the key, Esposito’d promised himself it was the last time. It really wasn’t right to dig through Ryan’s private drawer anyways, and there really wasn’t any reason to encourage the women either. The promise gave Esposito more practice at convincing himself of half-truths as he pointedly ignored the nagging voice in the back of his mind warning him of his lies.
Unfortunately, he hasn’t always been the most strong-willed and the third woman breaks his promise.
***
The third makes his hair stand on end and sweat break out on his forehead.
Once again it’s inside the locked drawer. The drawer doesn’t show signs of forced entry, which is troublesome on its own, the fact that he’s only left his desk for a few minutes since this morning - when his drawer was definitely empty of valentines - adding to the sense that something is very much not right. Though the card itself appears pretty harmless.
It’s moderately sized, blood red and shiny, the outside being a simple design of - he believes the word is embossed - hearts. This isn’t what makes his stomach flop heavily. It’s the message inside. Direct, blunt, it tells of possession, control, demands. It reminds him of the brothel full of dominas and the woman who needed her spiked boots untied. It isn’t his style of love.
The valentine never makes it to his apartment, finding a dumpster as its new home.
***
It doesn’t take long for the requests to become annoying. They all seem to believe its his job to deliver their silly little cards, as if he lives to play match-maker and it starts to get under his skin, edging deeper and deeper with each trip to Ryan’s desk. It doesn’t help that he still hasn’t received any cards himself.
He’s not sure why his desk has remained empty, or why the whole precinct has fallen for Ryan. It does appear to be the entire precinct as well, with his suspicion confirmed when Officer McEnroe shyly approached him in the locker room one Friday, blush running from the top of his cheeks to the base of his neck. The poor kid had stuttered so bad, complexion pale and eyes vaguely frightened, that Esposito couldn’t bring himself to mention that despite his knowledge of Ryan's slight leanings toward his own sex, he’s never known Ryan to actually date a man. Instead of trying to explain though, he’d simply taken the folded note from McEnroe and promised to never breath a word of it.
McEnroe quickly became the lead-in to a pattern. Requests start to come from both genders and a wide range of ages. The situation gets wilder every day, but the details don’t matter as much as the fact that he’s constantly running around for others now. Soon he’s getting asked two, three times a day to deliver. It’s then that he begins snapping at people.
***
Weeks go by and news of Ryan’s deliveries spreads. The rate of gifting increases steadily, up to the point that he’s getting three or four a day. All in the locked drawer.
Light pink with hearts, white with fake kiss marks, with real kiss marks, with sweet promises, with dirty wishes. Each is different and Ryan begins to wonder if he’s really this damn popular or if the precinct’s population of women have all gone crazy. Or perhaps it’s all a joke.
Once he begins receiving valentines from the men of the building - surprisingly less lewd than some of the ones from the women - the joke option seems more likely and so Ryan begins spying on the only suspect he has.
Esposito.
***
He can feel eyes on his back.
The sensation has followed him for the last three days, burning hot between his shoulder blades. Esposito sidesteps around a corner, stands stone still for the count of five then glances slyly back around the corner. Searching. Finding no one behind him, Esposito shakes his head ruefully. He’s getting paranoid with age.
***
It’s obvious something’s going on. Esposito’s constantly ducking into corners, checking over his shoulder at odd moments, standing too close to Ryan’s desk. Ryan knows about the key too. It all adds up and Ryan frowns at the floor, too lost in his own thoughts to realize that the conversation around him has stopped. The silence shouts for his attention.
“Wha?” Pulling out his patented confused face, Ryan glances up.
Castle’s smiling at him happily, fondness etched around his eyes. “The Old Haunt? To celebrate another case well solved!”
Beckett rolls her eyes at Castle’s enthusiasm. The common sight tugs a smile out to play on Ryan’s lips. “Sure man, sounds great!”
With that the group shifts, grabbing coats and phones, milling slowly toward the door. Ryan snags his coat off the back of his chair; pausing when he notices the space at his side is empty.
Esposito stalls, hanging back by their set of desks awkwardly. Ryan turns to face him, focused gaze holding the Latino steady. Ryan draws the tension out; certain Esposito can feel it building between them. He waits for the man to show he’s following. Esposito continues to hover, holding back from the rest of the retreating group. It hits Ryan then. Before he’s only half-suspected, but the denial dies under the weight of evidence. He rolls it around his head - Esposito’s the one placing the valentines in his desk, using the key Ryan knows he copied to hide them where no one else could stumble across them. Where he knows Ryan goes every day to store his private and important papers. It hurts that his partner would go through so much trouble to trick him and the joke just feels cruel now. There have been too many cards, and it’s apparent that Esposito wanted badly to build him up before confessing to the truth, that there’d been no true valentines. That it’d all been a joke. Normally, effort put into a prank would be appreciated but this time it’s gone too far.
There’s a sinking sensation in his chest and Ryan nods a quiet goodbye to Esposito, trailing Castle into the elevator.
He doesn’t go to the bar.
***
“I don’t think it’s funny.”
Esposito swivels in his chair to face the back of Ryan’s head. “What’s not funny?”
“When best friends play tricks on each other.” Ryan gestures toward the interrogation rooms, the reference to their current case clear - pranks gone wrong from the looks of things - but the light in the man’s eyes speak of a different matter altogether. Esposito fidgets nervously. He hasn’t played a prank on Ryan in months so it must be something recent, something only related to pranks through Ryan’s, at times, strange logic.
He shrugs. “I don’t see anything wrong with it, bro. As long as it doesn’t go too far. These jokers forgot where the line is. Or just didn’t care.” He waits to see if it sinks in, if Ryan gets that he’s saying he’d never cross that line with him, but the comment doesn’t seem to land right. If at all. Ryan spins back to his computer screen, frown marring his normally calm face.
Esposito sighs inwardly. Grabbing the reports Beckett’s waiting on, he stands, reviewing the last couple of weeks for a clue as to what’s upset his partner. The valentines enter his mind only briefly, dismissed almost immediately as a positive occurrence. Though Ryan has yet to bring them up. The lack of crowing over the displays of affection isn’t like his partner and it gives him pause. Esposito stops moving, standing still just long enough to catch Ryan’s muttered, “I think you’ve lost sight of the line.”
***
Esposito doesn’t understand the accusation in Ryan’s voice, the cause for anger, but he does understand that he’s somehow upset his partner. It sits high and heavy on his back, just at the base of his neck and no amount of exercise knocks the burden loose. Wiping sweat from his brow, Esposito strips down and climbs into his shower. The water’s spray clears the air, steam opening pores and cleaning out his body. Finally feeling refreshed, he closes his eyes and accepts facts. Esposito’s been nothing but a good boy for months, leaving no other option for Ryan’s disproval than the valentines. Combined with Ryan’s lack of bragging about the gifts it fits for a cause. Esposito still doesn’t understand why the man would be upset, or how exactly it’s connected to their prank-case, but ultimately it doesn’t matter. If Ryan doesn’t like him placing valentines in his desk for the men and women then Esposito won’t continue.
The decision brings relief with it and Esposito scowls at the emotion flooding his veins.
***
The valentines stop appearing.
***
They’re eating lunch at the Old Haunt a week later the next time the valentines are brought up. Ryan makes a shy comment, awkwardly trying to thank Esposito for ceasing the joke. Esposito quirks his head at his partner, confusion on his face completely missed by Ryan. Esposito pays for the meal, nodding vaguely at Ryan’s stumbled over words. They stroll out of the bar in companionable silence, heading back to the precinct.
Ryan thinks it’s all over.
***
Until February Fourteenth.
***
The last valentine isn’t actually a valentine. It’s really nothing more than a scribbled heart on a scrap of paper. But he thinks it’s cute and sweet anyways. Better than the others. Especially once he recognizes the style of writing that created the heart and the receipt it’s scrawled on. It erases the past few weeks in an instant, the reason behind the previous valentines no longer a concern. Ryan slips the tiny treasure into his pocket next to his keys, small smile tugging on his lips, plans for accepting the valentine in person forming with each step toward the giver’s home.
***
Why he gave into the urge to leave behind the piece of silly teenage stupidity is beyond him. Esposito lets the fridge door fall shut, his mind too distracted to shift through the contents of his kitchen, hunger paling in the face of his rising discomfort.
He takes a moment to hope that Ryan never finds the heart-decorated receipt. A knock at his door distracts him, yanking him away from self-pity.
***
Ryan places his own valentines on Esposito’s skin, his tongue drawing hearts and love around nipples and across ribs. His partner groans beneath him, fists clenched tight, jerking the sheet off the corners of the mattress. Ryan smiles against goose-pimpled flesh, infinitely pleased with himself. Scrapping his nails down to Esposito’s hips Ryan rises up to grin at the man’s closed eyes before bending down to lick a line up his partner’s dick.
He’s choking on cock, spit slicking his lips, the natural lubricant keeping his mouth from getting raw. His jaw aches after only a couple of minutes but he doesn’t stop, too wound up and eager for more. Fists clench in his hair, tugging in rapid jerks, trying to force him up and away. Esposito’s thighs tremble beneath his hands. Letting his body settle between Esposito’s legs completely, Ryan relaxes his throat. There’s a harsh growl somewhere in the distance, and Ryan strains his eyes toward Esposito’s face, trying to catch his expression. He can’t quite and he feels the loss as a physical wound.
Dropping the dick from his mouth, Ryan inches back up to kiss Esposito’s eyes open.
“Gonna watch you come.”
Esposito curses violently. His head lolls back and forth, Ryan’s hand squeezing the man’s cock in increasingly hard and fast pulses. Twisting his wrist on every upstroke, Ryan bites at Esposito’s jaw, relishing the feel of masculinity between his teeth. A sudden thought nags. Ryan rears back up, hand going still.
“Why’d you do it, Javier?”
Esposito’s eyes take a moment to steady on him, the barely open slits staring uncomprehending.
“Javier…” Ryan smirks. “Can you even understand me?”
“All I understand is that you’ve stopped.” Esposito glares, unsuccessful at appearing menacing. “You need to fix that.”
“Answer my question first.” Ryan resumes stroking briefly, the jerks to Esposito’s dick matching the rhythm of his words. “The. Valentines. In. My. Desk.” He stops again. “Why Javier?”
Frustration bubbles out of Esposito, and this time he does look somewhat menacing. “Damn lovestruck idiots made me okay! I was just doing them a favor.” He grabs Ryan’s hand. “Now get moving man!”
Ryan’s too surprised, then ashamed, to hear Esposito’s demand. It takes a smack upside the head to get him moving again. Ryan pushes the urge to apologize profusely away for later...when they’re not in the middle of having fun.
He darts forward to plant a kiss square on Esposito’s lips then slinks his body back down to finish the job. Wrapping his tongue as best he can around the thick dick in his hand, Ryan works his throat back open, swallowing repeatedly to massage the head. Esposito leaks down Ryan’s throat, salty taste almost missing his taste buds completely with how deep-seated Esposito’s cock is. Ryan keeps milking Esposito for all he’s worth, his partner’s dick swelling noticeably. Nails scratch at the nape of Ryan’s neck, a half-hearted warning as Esposito arches up sharply to bury himself to the hilt. Ryan takes it easily, just barely keeping from gagging on the thick liquid that fills his mouth.
Easing himself off Esposito, Ryan nudges at the man’s softened cock with his nose in delight at his achievement. He sucks one testicle into his stretched out and used mouth to suckle for a moment, catching his breath. Popping the testicle back out, Ryan rises to his knees. He straddles Esposito’s waist, balancing with one hand pressed to Esposito’s chest. The other reaches between his own legs and cups his balls. He only allows himself a harsh squeeze before he circles fingers around his dick and begins tugging. Pinching the head, he lets his eyes wander, mapping out Esposito’s bones and muscles, trying to decide what he wants to do the next time he’s in his partner’s bed. It’s a toss up between full on anal and simply playing with the man. Images of both rush through his mind and he shudders, hand stuttering on his dick. A hand that isn’t his presses hard knuckles a scant inch behind his balls and his vision whites.
Stars burst on the inside of his eyelids, breath stuck somewhere in his chest, pressure building until it’s nearly painful. Ryan isn’t sure how long he’s out for. When he comes back to reality he’s on his back with Esposito grinning down at him. The corners of his mouth are sticking together, come’s smeared across Esposito’s abs and there are teeth marks everywhere. A different sort of pleasure jitters in Ryan’s bones, happiness desperate to break out through his seams. He doesn’t feel safe to speak and so pulls Esposito down to raid his partner’s mouth. Tongues tangle sleepily, poking at teeth and gums, dipping and diving in mimicry of a larger event. Ryan lets his eyes stay closed as Esposito brushes lips against the outer shell of his ear. There’s a whisper of air, an amused laugh pushing enquiring words into Ryan’s shutting down mind.
“So, when do I get my apology?”
***
Ryan does apologize. So much so that Esposito resorts to tackling him to the floor and ravishing him for near two hours.
They spend the rest of the weekend exploring each other.