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phantismaFandom: Kane RPS/Leverage RPS
Title: Slow Like Sunday Morning (Part One)
Pairing/Characters: Christian Kane/Steve Carlson, Timothy Hutton, Aldis Hodge, Jason Southard, Will Amend, Ryan Baker
Rating: NC-17 (for sex but also for theme and violence)
Word Count: 2983
Summary: Chris and Steve come together in Portland but all is not as it seems, and Chris isn't really sure what exactly is going on.
A/Ns & Warnings: THIS IS ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP FIC. Turn back now if this is not your thing. This began as comment fic and took on a life of it's own. First part of probably five.
Early in the evening everything was relaxed. The boys ordered pizza and hung out in his living room picking and playing video games while he headed back to the set to finish up his day. He found them all just sort of kicking back when he got home.
It was nice to have them all together again, and Will was settling in nicely. Chris was able to let go of the tension that had followed him home from the set, the looks, the innuendo. Aldis was the first to make the joke, that Chris was acting like he was rushing off to meet a long lost lover, not his music partner.
They were careful about it but it wasn't as if he was ashamed of what he had with Steve, it just wasn't anyone's damn business.
They guys knew...well Jason knew. Ryan suspected. Will, well, he'd figure it out fast enough. Chris settled in on the couch with his beer, leaning in to Steve who was way ahead of him in the beer department, and from the smell of his clothes he'd been smoking too, but he'd been there at home a lot longer too.
Jason was slaughtering Will on some game on the damn Playstation.
Steve put his arm around Chris, pulled him in close, kissed the top of his head. "Hey."
Chris leaned back into him more. "Hey yourself."
"Missed you."
Chris let his hand fall on Steve's thigh, rubbing it lightly as Steve's hand came over his shoulder onto his chest. Chris was vaguely aware of eyes on them, but at the moment, he was content. "Long day." He turned his face, eyes catching on Ryan's face, but Ryan looked away.
Steve kissed his cheek. "Mine," he whispered in Chris' ear.
Chris turned toward him, catching his lips. "Yeah."
"Mine." Steve nodded to himself and laid back against the couch, holding Chris to his chest. It was quiet. Comfortable.
It was so goddamn right that Chris felt his chest ache. He'd let himself believe he didn't need this…Steve, the guys, the music. Let himself think he could do it on his own. But this was so much like home, he almost couldn't breathe.
It was perfect.
And when the boys had all gone off to their hotels, and it was just Chris and Steve, and the barriers of clothing and watching eyes fell away Chris was going to show Steve exactly how much they had to make up for…and spend the whole night re-acquainting himself with Steve's body.
It meant dragging himself in to work the next day, hungover and exhausted, but Chris didn't care. Everything was back the way it was supposed to be. Steve was with him, the boys were together, they were making music and he was happier than he could remember being in a really, really long time.
That first weekend was amazing. Rehearsal went really well and led to drinking, and challenges of dexterity, and it was well after midnight when Chris finally dragged Steve out of there, because Chris had an early call, and they had a show the next night.
So, the first time Steve hit him, it didn't count. Not really.
It was an accident. They were both tired and cranky and half drunk and bickering over nothing and Chris was in the way and Steve was talking with his hands and it wasn't really a punch so much as his arm flying out and his closed hand connecting with Christian's face.
That's what Chris told everyone when he showed up with the start of a shiner on set, with a laugh about ducking and Steve's girly hands to go with it.
And they believed him. Because he was Christian Kane, and he knew how to handle himself, and no one was going to believe that anyone hit the man and didn't get pummeled into the ground.
Steve really didn't even realize how hard the hit had been until Chris came back from work that afternoon and took a shower to start getting ready for the show. Chris was just checking out the bruising in the bathroom mirror when Steve ambled in for his own turn in the shower.
"What happened?" Steve's voice was soft, his fingers softer as they tilted Christian's face toward him, brushing lightly over the bruising.
Chris pulled away and shook his head. "It's nothing."
"You do that on set?"
Chris frowned at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. "No, this is from last night."
"Last night?" Steve clearly didn't remember.
"You flailed, I didn't get out of the way." Chris shook his head and dried his face on a hand towel. "Told you, it's nothing."
"I'm sorry...I was so tired last night and Ryan gave me that tequila. I don't even remember getting back from rehearsal."
Chris frowned all the harder, even though it hurt his eye. "You weren't that drunk."
"Just tired. I'm fine now." Steve's arms slid around his waist and drew him in close. "Let me make it up to you?"
"Yeah? How?" Chris let himself get distracted by the light, teasing kisses as Steve started walking them out of the bathroom.
"We got time before we need to get to the club...and I should really take a look at that...kiss it better...and then check every other inch of you to make sure you're okay."
Chris let it go. It didn't count. Didn't matter. It was nothing.
Steve pulled him back into the bedroom, hands knocking the towel covering Christian's lower body away, touching, teasing until Chris is hard and then pushing him down onto the unmade bed.
Steve's lips started at his eye, kissing all around the tender bruise and down, over his chin, neck, onto his chest. Chris was just about to protest the slow, teasing pace when Steve surrounded his cock with wet heat and started humming around him.
That was enough to have Chris thrusting up, his hips leaving the bed until Steve's hands pressed him back down. "No cheating." Steve said, chuckling a little as he dropped his face down to the side of Chris' cock, nuzzling the skin, nipping tiny bites down to his balls.
"Fuck, Steve…" Chris reached for him, hand tangling in his hair and tugging him toward his cock.
"Eager?" His voice rumbled against Chris' skin, making him groan. "Want something?"
"Don't have all night, stop teasing!" Chris growled.
Steve chuckled again, but closed his mouth over his cock, sucking in as he moved, slowly taking more and more of him into his mouth. Chris could feel it coming. Steve's thumbs bit into his hips, leaving smudges of red that would blacken before the night was over. He moved faster, his head bobbing now as he pulled Chris closer and closer to the edge. Chris gritted his teeth as he came, pressing up against Steve's hands, the burn of his skin bruising adding to the sensation as he filled Steve's mouth.
Steve licked at him until Chris pulled him away. Steve stood up, grinning down at him. "I think you'll be fine."
"Huh?" Chris pushed up on his elbows, forgetting Steve was "checking him over".
The phone rang beside him and Chris leaned for it while Steve started pulling off his shirt. "Hey…yeah, no, we're almost ready." Chris said in response to Ryan on the phone. "Half hour."
He hung up and looked up to find Steve undressed and heading out the bedroom door. "Need to shower. Give me five."
Chris slid out of bed and headed for clothes. He almost wished he could get one of the make-up girls to come to the club and cover up the bruise for him. It was their first show together in a long, long time and he wanted it to be perfect.
Especially because they didn't know what to expect for an audience. He pulled on jeans and rummaged around trying to decide on a shirt while Steve showered. Half hour, and the club was a good twenty minutes away. They had to do sound check, then they should have time to grab some food.
He'd invited Tim and the cast to come out, and he knew Aldis would be there. He was nervous, and that didn't used to happen. Obviously he was out of practice.
His hair was a mess of curls, and he was out of time to try to tame them as Steve darted in to get dressed. "Lets get going before the guys start without us." Steve said, shoving his feet into shoes.
They grabbed guitars and headed for the door. It was show time.
The second time Steve hit him, it wasn't as much an accident, not quite as easy to blow off. There was a lot of tequila and beer. The show had been wild, the club packed, and after it took a lot to come down. It was him and Aldis and Steve and a bottle of tequila and a bottle of Jack and they were all more than a little bit drunk.
Aldis was laughing uncontrollably about something, leaning against Chris when Chris felt Steve's eyes. They were flashing angrily in his direction. Chris blinked and Steve had looked away, but he felt it still them.
"Get off me man." Chris said, pushing Aldis away.
"Oh, I'm cramping your style now?" Aldis asked, laughing at himself.
"You're cramping something." Chris responded, standing and letting Aldis slide down to the couch. "I gotta pee."
He bounced off the walls some on his way to the bathroom, still trying to figure out what had pissed Steve off. He took a leak and flushed, opening the bathroom door to find Steve standing there, his eyes angry. He grabbed Chris and shoved him into the wall. "You told me you weren't fucking any of them."
His voice was deep, the words slurring with the alcohol.
"I'm not, man, what?"
Steve's fist swung out and slammed into Christian's face. "Don't fucking lie to me."
Chris caught his hand before he could hit him again. "Not lying Steve. I'm not sleeping with anyone but you. Love you."
The anger softened and Steve backed off a step. He sagged against the opposite wall and rubbed a hand over his face. "Man, I'm fucked up."
Chris was a lot more sober than he'd been just moments before, adrenaline coursing through him. "Lets get you to bed then. You've got a flight out in the morning."
Aldis was passed out on the couch, and Steve crashed fast once Chris got some aspirin and some water into him and helped him to the bed. Chris sat on his side of the bed, rubbing at the spot on his jaw where Steve's punch had landed.
He'd never seen Steve like that. Drunk, sure. That he'd seen plenty. But this was…different somehow. Chris laid down and closed his eyes. He was pretty sure it was just the alcohol and adrenaline and getting back together like this after so long apart.
He would have to make sure he showed Steve how much he loved him, how much Steve meant to him, prove to him that Chris only had eyes for him, as stupid and cliché as that sounded. And he had just over two weeks to figure out exactly how to do that.
The next time it happened, Steve got off the plane smelling like beer, and Chris had had a long day on set, and still had another two hours of work to do. "You mind hanging at the set with me for a bit?" Chris asked nervously as he pulled out of the airport.
"Why?" Steve asked, frowning at him.
"Got to shoot a night scene with Tim. I can drop you at my place instead if you want. I'll only be a few hours."
"No, man, it's fine." Steve stretched and put a hand on his thigh. "You know I like to watch you work."
Still, the air in the truck was tense as Chris parked and climbed out. "I gotta change."
"I'll hang here."
Chris left Steve and darted into his trailer to change back into Eliot's clothes. When he came out Steve and Aldis were talking. Tim was beckoning Chris toward makeup. Chris tapped Steve's shoulder. "Make up."
"I'll take him up to a good viewing spot for the scene." Aldis said as Chris ducked around a piece of moving scenery and headed out to meet Tim. "You ready?"
"Me? You're the one who went running out of here to go pick up your band." Tim smirked and dropped into one of the chairs for a touch up.
"Just Steve. Ryan and Jason are flying in in the morning." Chris corrected.
"You guys want to grab some dinner after we finish up?"
"Yeah, I'd like that." Chris said, smiling at the girl who was finishing up his make up.
"Lets get through this seen then."
Chris could feel Steve's eyes on him through the whole thing and the couple of times he actually looked, Steve looked angry, though Chris couldn't place any reason for it.
When it was over and they were done, Chris found Steve and Aldis laughing together over something. "Hey, just let me change. I'll meet you in the parking lot." Tim said as he headed for his trailer.
"No sweat." Chris headed for his trailer, Steve following him.
"What was that about?"
"Tim invited us to go get something to eat."
"What if I don't want to?"
Chris turned to look at him, but Steve just shook his head. "Sorry, man. I'm tired and I was hoping it would just be us tonight."
Chris pulled Steve into the trailer, closing the door and pressing him into it. "As soon as we get home it will be…just you and me…and no early call times…no reason to get out of bed until the boys roll in…we can take our time and fuck each other's brains out."
"I like the sound of that." Steve's mouth chased after his until Chris let himself be caught, the kiss messy and hard.
"I need to change, wash up. Gimme a few minutes."
Dinner was accompanied by a bottle of wine, and then beer…and they followed it up with a stop at a bar around the corner from Chris' apartment where there were shots of tequila and Chris was more than a little tipsy when he got down from his bar stool and fell into Tim.
He was laughing and trying to get his feet under him when Steve fell into him, dropping them both to the ground. Steve's elbow landed in his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. "Mine." Steve growled…or Chris thought he heard Steve growl before Tim was helping them up.
"I think that's our cue to call it a night." Tim said jovially, gesturing to the door as he dropped a twenty on the bar.
They stumbled out into the night, Steve quiet and scowling. He had a death grip on Chris' elbow as Tim got into a cab. "Come on." Chris got them turned for home. Together they stumbled up the stairs and into the apartment, shedding clothes as they went until they were both naked as they hit the bedroom.
Steve was still quiet, his hands hard as he pushed Chris onto the bed. He didn't gentle, not even when Chris yelled because his grip was too tight and his fingers bruising. There was no banter, no playful foreplay. There was just Steve, pushing Chris face first into the bed and fucking into him with too little prep and not enough warning.
It was almost like he was being claimed. Steve grunted as he came, then fell off and rolled over. Chris didn't know what to make of any of it. He turned off the light and laid down beside Steve, not touching, not really moving. Just staring at the ceiling and wondering what in the fuck had gotten into Steve. Somewhere in the long hours between then and dawn, Chris dozed off and when he woke, Steve was spooned around him, head on Chris' shoulder, legs twined around his.
"Feels good." Steve murmured when he realized Chris was awake. "Like Sunday morning."
"Except it's Saturday." Chris responded dryly.
"Still feels good." Steve lifted his head, shaking blond hair out of his eyes. "I like waking up next to you. Makes the whole day better."
Chris exhaled slowly and nodded, relaxing into the warm feeling of a lazy day spent in bed with Steve…like they used to do back before the world got crazy on them. "Yeah…it does." His stomach rumbled and Steve chuckled, sitting up.
"Pancakes."
"What?" Chris reached for him, but Steve was already pulling on a robe that Chris had left at the end of the bed. "I’m gonna make you pancakes. Stay there."
"I'll help." Chris started to get up, but Steve shook his head and leaned in to kiss Chris, all soft and gentle and warm.
"No…I want to make you breakfast in bed, and then I want to lick you all over and make you remember what lazy Sunday mornings are for."
"It's still Saturday." Chris whispered, but he surrendered, laying back on the pillows and listening to Steve in the kitchen. It had been a long time since he'd had breakfast in bed. Longer still since it had been Steve that made it for him.
It didn't take long for him to start smelling coffee and butter melting. Chris closed his eyes and let himself drift on the warm feeling. For a long time he'd wondered if he'd ever get this back…this comfortable place where it was Chris and Steve, and the outside world could just disappear as long as they were together and had their music.
Steve was right. Slow, like Sunday morning. Nothing else mattered when it was just the two of them.
Title: Slow Like Sunday Morning (Part One)
Pairing/Characters: Christian Kane/Steve Carlson, Timothy Hutton, Aldis Hodge, Jason Southard, Will Amend, Ryan Baker
Rating: NC-17 (for sex but also for theme and violence)
Word Count: 2983
Summary: Chris and Steve come together in Portland but all is not as it seems, and Chris isn't really sure what exactly is going on.
A/Ns & Warnings: THIS IS ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP FIC. Turn back now if this is not your thing. This began as comment fic and took on a life of it's own. First part of probably five.
Early in the evening everything was relaxed. The boys ordered pizza and hung out in his living room picking and playing video games while he headed back to the set to finish up his day. He found them all just sort of kicking back when he got home.
It was nice to have them all together again, and Will was settling in nicely. Chris was able to let go of the tension that had followed him home from the set, the looks, the innuendo. Aldis was the first to make the joke, that Chris was acting like he was rushing off to meet a long lost lover, not his music partner.
They were careful about it but it wasn't as if he was ashamed of what he had with Steve, it just wasn't anyone's damn business.
They guys knew...well Jason knew. Ryan suspected. Will, well, he'd figure it out fast enough. Chris settled in on the couch with his beer, leaning in to Steve who was way ahead of him in the beer department, and from the smell of his clothes he'd been smoking too, but he'd been there at home a lot longer too.
Jason was slaughtering Will on some game on the damn Playstation.
Steve put his arm around Chris, pulled him in close, kissed the top of his head. "Hey."
Chris leaned back into him more. "Hey yourself."
"Missed you."
Chris let his hand fall on Steve's thigh, rubbing it lightly as Steve's hand came over his shoulder onto his chest. Chris was vaguely aware of eyes on them, but at the moment, he was content. "Long day." He turned his face, eyes catching on Ryan's face, but Ryan looked away.
Steve kissed his cheek. "Mine," he whispered in Chris' ear.
Chris turned toward him, catching his lips. "Yeah."
"Mine." Steve nodded to himself and laid back against the couch, holding Chris to his chest. It was quiet. Comfortable.
It was so goddamn right that Chris felt his chest ache. He'd let himself believe he didn't need this…Steve, the guys, the music. Let himself think he could do it on his own. But this was so much like home, he almost couldn't breathe.
It was perfect.
And when the boys had all gone off to their hotels, and it was just Chris and Steve, and the barriers of clothing and watching eyes fell away Chris was going to show Steve exactly how much they had to make up for…and spend the whole night re-acquainting himself with Steve's body.
It meant dragging himself in to work the next day, hungover and exhausted, but Chris didn't care. Everything was back the way it was supposed to be. Steve was with him, the boys were together, they were making music and he was happier than he could remember being in a really, really long time.
That first weekend was amazing. Rehearsal went really well and led to drinking, and challenges of dexterity, and it was well after midnight when Chris finally dragged Steve out of there, because Chris had an early call, and they had a show the next night.
So, the first time Steve hit him, it didn't count. Not really.
It was an accident. They were both tired and cranky and half drunk and bickering over nothing and Chris was in the way and Steve was talking with his hands and it wasn't really a punch so much as his arm flying out and his closed hand connecting with Christian's face.
That's what Chris told everyone when he showed up with the start of a shiner on set, with a laugh about ducking and Steve's girly hands to go with it.
And they believed him. Because he was Christian Kane, and he knew how to handle himself, and no one was going to believe that anyone hit the man and didn't get pummeled into the ground.
Steve really didn't even realize how hard the hit had been until Chris came back from work that afternoon and took a shower to start getting ready for the show. Chris was just checking out the bruising in the bathroom mirror when Steve ambled in for his own turn in the shower.
"What happened?" Steve's voice was soft, his fingers softer as they tilted Christian's face toward him, brushing lightly over the bruising.
Chris pulled away and shook his head. "It's nothing."
"You do that on set?"
Chris frowned at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. "No, this is from last night."
"Last night?" Steve clearly didn't remember.
"You flailed, I didn't get out of the way." Chris shook his head and dried his face on a hand towel. "Told you, it's nothing."
"I'm sorry...I was so tired last night and Ryan gave me that tequila. I don't even remember getting back from rehearsal."
Chris frowned all the harder, even though it hurt his eye. "You weren't that drunk."
"Just tired. I'm fine now." Steve's arms slid around his waist and drew him in close. "Let me make it up to you?"
"Yeah? How?" Chris let himself get distracted by the light, teasing kisses as Steve started walking them out of the bathroom.
"We got time before we need to get to the club...and I should really take a look at that...kiss it better...and then check every other inch of you to make sure you're okay."
Chris let it go. It didn't count. Didn't matter. It was nothing.
Steve pulled him back into the bedroom, hands knocking the towel covering Christian's lower body away, touching, teasing until Chris is hard and then pushing him down onto the unmade bed.
Steve's lips started at his eye, kissing all around the tender bruise and down, over his chin, neck, onto his chest. Chris was just about to protest the slow, teasing pace when Steve surrounded his cock with wet heat and started humming around him.
That was enough to have Chris thrusting up, his hips leaving the bed until Steve's hands pressed him back down. "No cheating." Steve said, chuckling a little as he dropped his face down to the side of Chris' cock, nuzzling the skin, nipping tiny bites down to his balls.
"Fuck, Steve…" Chris reached for him, hand tangling in his hair and tugging him toward his cock.
"Eager?" His voice rumbled against Chris' skin, making him groan. "Want something?"
"Don't have all night, stop teasing!" Chris growled.
Steve chuckled again, but closed his mouth over his cock, sucking in as he moved, slowly taking more and more of him into his mouth. Chris could feel it coming. Steve's thumbs bit into his hips, leaving smudges of red that would blacken before the night was over. He moved faster, his head bobbing now as he pulled Chris closer and closer to the edge. Chris gritted his teeth as he came, pressing up against Steve's hands, the burn of his skin bruising adding to the sensation as he filled Steve's mouth.
Steve licked at him until Chris pulled him away. Steve stood up, grinning down at him. "I think you'll be fine."
"Huh?" Chris pushed up on his elbows, forgetting Steve was "checking him over".
The phone rang beside him and Chris leaned for it while Steve started pulling off his shirt. "Hey…yeah, no, we're almost ready." Chris said in response to Ryan on the phone. "Half hour."
He hung up and looked up to find Steve undressed and heading out the bedroom door. "Need to shower. Give me five."
Chris slid out of bed and headed for clothes. He almost wished he could get one of the make-up girls to come to the club and cover up the bruise for him. It was their first show together in a long, long time and he wanted it to be perfect.
Especially because they didn't know what to expect for an audience. He pulled on jeans and rummaged around trying to decide on a shirt while Steve showered. Half hour, and the club was a good twenty minutes away. They had to do sound check, then they should have time to grab some food.
He'd invited Tim and the cast to come out, and he knew Aldis would be there. He was nervous, and that didn't used to happen. Obviously he was out of practice.
His hair was a mess of curls, and he was out of time to try to tame them as Steve darted in to get dressed. "Lets get going before the guys start without us." Steve said, shoving his feet into shoes.
They grabbed guitars and headed for the door. It was show time.
The second time Steve hit him, it wasn't as much an accident, not quite as easy to blow off. There was a lot of tequila and beer. The show had been wild, the club packed, and after it took a lot to come down. It was him and Aldis and Steve and a bottle of tequila and a bottle of Jack and they were all more than a little bit drunk.
Aldis was laughing uncontrollably about something, leaning against Chris when Chris felt Steve's eyes. They were flashing angrily in his direction. Chris blinked and Steve had looked away, but he felt it still them.
"Get off me man." Chris said, pushing Aldis away.
"Oh, I'm cramping your style now?" Aldis asked, laughing at himself.
"You're cramping something." Chris responded, standing and letting Aldis slide down to the couch. "I gotta pee."
He bounced off the walls some on his way to the bathroom, still trying to figure out what had pissed Steve off. He took a leak and flushed, opening the bathroom door to find Steve standing there, his eyes angry. He grabbed Chris and shoved him into the wall. "You told me you weren't fucking any of them."
His voice was deep, the words slurring with the alcohol.
"I'm not, man, what?"
Steve's fist swung out and slammed into Christian's face. "Don't fucking lie to me."
Chris caught his hand before he could hit him again. "Not lying Steve. I'm not sleeping with anyone but you. Love you."
The anger softened and Steve backed off a step. He sagged against the opposite wall and rubbed a hand over his face. "Man, I'm fucked up."
Chris was a lot more sober than he'd been just moments before, adrenaline coursing through him. "Lets get you to bed then. You've got a flight out in the morning."
Aldis was passed out on the couch, and Steve crashed fast once Chris got some aspirin and some water into him and helped him to the bed. Chris sat on his side of the bed, rubbing at the spot on his jaw where Steve's punch had landed.
He'd never seen Steve like that. Drunk, sure. That he'd seen plenty. But this was…different somehow. Chris laid down and closed his eyes. He was pretty sure it was just the alcohol and adrenaline and getting back together like this after so long apart.
He would have to make sure he showed Steve how much he loved him, how much Steve meant to him, prove to him that Chris only had eyes for him, as stupid and cliché as that sounded. And he had just over two weeks to figure out exactly how to do that.
The next time it happened, Steve got off the plane smelling like beer, and Chris had had a long day on set, and still had another two hours of work to do. "You mind hanging at the set with me for a bit?" Chris asked nervously as he pulled out of the airport.
"Why?" Steve asked, frowning at him.
"Got to shoot a night scene with Tim. I can drop you at my place instead if you want. I'll only be a few hours."
"No, man, it's fine." Steve stretched and put a hand on his thigh. "You know I like to watch you work."
Still, the air in the truck was tense as Chris parked and climbed out. "I gotta change."
"I'll hang here."
Chris left Steve and darted into his trailer to change back into Eliot's clothes. When he came out Steve and Aldis were talking. Tim was beckoning Chris toward makeup. Chris tapped Steve's shoulder. "Make up."
"I'll take him up to a good viewing spot for the scene." Aldis said as Chris ducked around a piece of moving scenery and headed out to meet Tim. "You ready?"
"Me? You're the one who went running out of here to go pick up your band." Tim smirked and dropped into one of the chairs for a touch up.
"Just Steve. Ryan and Jason are flying in in the morning." Chris corrected.
"You guys want to grab some dinner after we finish up?"
"Yeah, I'd like that." Chris said, smiling at the girl who was finishing up his make up.
"Lets get through this seen then."
Chris could feel Steve's eyes on him through the whole thing and the couple of times he actually looked, Steve looked angry, though Chris couldn't place any reason for it.
When it was over and they were done, Chris found Steve and Aldis laughing together over something. "Hey, just let me change. I'll meet you in the parking lot." Tim said as he headed for his trailer.
"No sweat." Chris headed for his trailer, Steve following him.
"What was that about?"
"Tim invited us to go get something to eat."
"What if I don't want to?"
Chris turned to look at him, but Steve just shook his head. "Sorry, man. I'm tired and I was hoping it would just be us tonight."
Chris pulled Steve into the trailer, closing the door and pressing him into it. "As soon as we get home it will be…just you and me…and no early call times…no reason to get out of bed until the boys roll in…we can take our time and fuck each other's brains out."
"I like the sound of that." Steve's mouth chased after his until Chris let himself be caught, the kiss messy and hard.
"I need to change, wash up. Gimme a few minutes."
Dinner was accompanied by a bottle of wine, and then beer…and they followed it up with a stop at a bar around the corner from Chris' apartment where there were shots of tequila and Chris was more than a little tipsy when he got down from his bar stool and fell into Tim.
He was laughing and trying to get his feet under him when Steve fell into him, dropping them both to the ground. Steve's elbow landed in his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. "Mine." Steve growled…or Chris thought he heard Steve growl before Tim was helping them up.
"I think that's our cue to call it a night." Tim said jovially, gesturing to the door as he dropped a twenty on the bar.
They stumbled out into the night, Steve quiet and scowling. He had a death grip on Chris' elbow as Tim got into a cab. "Come on." Chris got them turned for home. Together they stumbled up the stairs and into the apartment, shedding clothes as they went until they were both naked as they hit the bedroom.
Steve was still quiet, his hands hard as he pushed Chris onto the bed. He didn't gentle, not even when Chris yelled because his grip was too tight and his fingers bruising. There was no banter, no playful foreplay. There was just Steve, pushing Chris face first into the bed and fucking into him with too little prep and not enough warning.
It was almost like he was being claimed. Steve grunted as he came, then fell off and rolled over. Chris didn't know what to make of any of it. He turned off the light and laid down beside Steve, not touching, not really moving. Just staring at the ceiling and wondering what in the fuck had gotten into Steve. Somewhere in the long hours between then and dawn, Chris dozed off and when he woke, Steve was spooned around him, head on Chris' shoulder, legs twined around his.
"Feels good." Steve murmured when he realized Chris was awake. "Like Sunday morning."
"Except it's Saturday." Chris responded dryly.
"Still feels good." Steve lifted his head, shaking blond hair out of his eyes. "I like waking up next to you. Makes the whole day better."
Chris exhaled slowly and nodded, relaxing into the warm feeling of a lazy day spent in bed with Steve…like they used to do back before the world got crazy on them. "Yeah…it does." His stomach rumbled and Steve chuckled, sitting up.
"Pancakes."
"What?" Chris reached for him, but Steve was already pulling on a robe that Chris had left at the end of the bed. "I’m gonna make you pancakes. Stay there."
"I'll help." Chris started to get up, but Steve shook his head and leaned in to kiss Chris, all soft and gentle and warm.
"No…I want to make you breakfast in bed, and then I want to lick you all over and make you remember what lazy Sunday mornings are for."
"It's still Saturday." Chris whispered, but he surrendered, laying back on the pillows and listening to Steve in the kitchen. It had been a long time since he'd had breakfast in bed. Longer still since it had been Steve that made it for him.
It didn't take long for him to start smelling coffee and butter melting. Chris closed his eyes and let himself drift on the warm feeling. For a long time he'd wondered if he'd ever get this back…this comfortable place where it was Chris and Steve, and the outside world could just disappear as long as they were together and had their music.
Steve was right. Slow, like Sunday morning. Nothing else mattered when it was just the two of them.
