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A proposal

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players only. backdated to July 2015, a few weeks after the boys got a call from Ryan's ex.

warning for talk of cutting / knifeplay

Having just got off the phone with his agent, Sam grabs two beers from the fridge and plunks himself down on the couch beside Ryan. "Everest is going to open the Venice Film Festival," he says, handing one bottle over and cracking the other open for himself. "And they want me there."

Ryan reaches automatically for the bottle and his eyes go wide. "You're the fucking opener?" he asks, delighted. "Holy shit, Sam! That's fucking awesome!" He sets his beer aside in favor of throwing his arms around his lover's neck and giving him a big wet sloppy kiss. Maybe it's old hat for Sam at this point, but Ryan still gets excited about every one of his lover's victories.

Sam grins. "It's brilliant," he agrees. "And I was thinking about it. I want you to go with me."

"Oh yeah, of course! You know I love watching you work the carpet. Manipulate the press with every boyish grin until they start begging you to carry them off..." Ryan teases, thinking over a few instances in particular at different premieres. "And the afterparties, they mostly serve the top-shelf stuff. Gotta love it."

"That's not what I meant," Sam says, watching Ryan closely. "I want you to come to the premiere with me."

"Well, yeah. Who–?" Ryan cuts himself off, sitting back and shooting his lover a quizzical look. "Wait, I think I'm confused. Of course I'll come with you. What am I missing?"

"I want you to come with me," Sam repeats, smiling. "I want you to be my date, walk the red carpet with me." But... "I don't want us holding hands and I'm not even going to respond to anyone who asks me about you, other than to say you're my mate and P.A. but I want you there, by my side. They can throw out all the rumours they want."

His jaw drops, and Ryan searches Sam's face for any trace of teasing. But he finds none. "Your date?"

"If you're okay with the other stuff," Sam says, concerned he's asking too much of Ryan. "I'm not coming out. This isn't some huge fucking announcement. This is just me not hiding anymore."

This time it's Sam's beer that Ryan hooks and sets aside. He moves to straddle his husband's lap, his hands light on Sam's face. "That sounds like a pretty big way of not coming out," he says softly, his heart pounding like a hummingbird's wings. "And they won't let you take it back."

"I know," Sam says, and he does, "but I'm ready. At least for this step."

Ryan steadily watches his lover's eyes for a long moment more. Then he smiles shyly. "I would love to," he whispers. "I've dreamed forever of being able to stand next to you in front of everyone. To not have to struggle to hide how incredibly proud I am of you and all you are."

There's a twinge of guilt there. How could there not be? He's hidden Ryan away like he was some fucking dirty secret, something only to be admitted to on his own timetable. It doesn't matter that he was up front or that Ryan agreed. He's still been an asshole. "I'll make this up to you some day," he promises. "All this fucking secrecy."

"I hate it when you talk like that," Ryan sighs, gently combing through Sam's hair with his fingers. "You can't make something up to me because you've never done me wrong. And I understand why we need to keep things private." He breathes a kiss over his sir's lips. "I love you so much. You make me so incredibly happy."

"I'm glad because you're my whole fucking world. I'd fall to pieces without you," Sam says, brushing their lips together, his arms around his lover, holding him close, tight.

"No." Smiling again, Ryan shakes his head and revels in the feeling of being in his lover's arms. "Nope, even if you did ever fall to pieces – and it wouldn't be because of me – I swear I'll patch you back up again."

Sam grins. "That's because you take such good care of me," he says. "You realize we'll be followed back and hounded for days after we do this?"

His smile drops flat in an instant, and Ryan eyes Sam skeptically. "And you're sure you'll be all right with that? Sam, I know you fucking hate that intrusive shit. Don't take it on just if you think it'll make me happy."

"There's no just about it," Sam insists, his hands under Ryan's t-shirt now, stroking over his skin. "It's what I want too and I've resigned myself to dealing with the other shit. They can print whatever they want and when we don't respond, they'll get tired and go the fuck away."

Now Ryan tightly grips Sam's nape, and drops his forehead to rest against his lover's. "I love you so fucking much," he whispers. "I hope you realize how completely I mean it when I tell you that I'd do fucking anything for you. If you want this, Sam, then we will make it happen." He shuts his eyes tight against a sudden layer of dampness screening his lashes. "But I refuse to be your regret or your resentment, you know that." He sits back just enough to press his lips to his sir's. "And so it's your call. If you decide that, yes, this is absolutely how you want it to go down, then I support you one-thousand percent."

"You know me," Sam says with a smile. "I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't sure." His smile widens into a grin, a slight bit of mischief in his eye. "So... will you be my date for the premiere?"

Ryan ducks his head on a grin, his dimples winking. "Yeah. Yeah, I will. But don't think I haven't heard the rumours about you at school," he says, looking up in playful challenge. "You'll dress up, you'll look incredibly hot, and then... Hands-off, all night long." He sighs heavily.

Sam laughs then quickly schools his features. "But I'm saving myself for marriage."

"Ohh, god. Another one of those," Ryan retorts, and dissolves into laughter. "Oh my god, Sam! You know what we need to do? We should get you one of those purity rings to wear. Instead of your wedding ring."

"Definitely," Sam says, unable to stop laughing. "You know, though, anal doesn't count."

Ryan eyes his lover suspiciously. "And why not?"

"Because only pussies count when it comes to virginity," Sam says, regarding Ryan with mock disbelief. "Don't you know that?"

His eyes wide and full of wonder, Ryan sits back. "Holy fuck," he breathes, like he still can't quite grasp it. "That means... That means I'm still a virgin!"

Sam laughs. "I know. Isn't it great? You can put anything you want up your ass and it doesn't count. You're still pure as the driven snow."

Ryan bats his eyelashes. With enough make-up, he could probably pass for a Disney princess. "Pure, yes. Precisely. I revel in my untainted state." He narrows his eyes at Sam, a smile tugging at his mouth. "But doesn't that just make you want to corrupt me as much as you can?"

Sam grins. "Corrupt you absolutely?" he murmurs, tugging Ryan's shirt over his head.

"Um. I don't know. All at once?" Ryan asks, shivering just a bit. "I mean, if it's absolute corruption, then there will be nothing of interest to you for a next time, would there?"

"I'm not sure which of us you're underestimating there," Sam says with a chuckle, closing his mouth around a nipple and sucking roughly.

"No, I was... I was..." Ryan shudders as Sam's mouth makes him lose his grip on the conversation entirely. "Forgot the question," he mutters, rocking against his lover.

Sam smiles, scraping his teeth over one nub before moving to the other. Biting softly and then harder.

With a whimper Ryan grabs Sam's shoulders, digging his fingertips in to hang on. God, Sam knows how quickly this spins him out, how fast an assault on his nipples – and their rings – pushes him towards that desperate edge. "Sir," he whispers, beginning to frantically rub against his lover.

Sam doesn't respond. He just bites harder, moving back and forth between Ryan's nipples, the rings grabbed between his teeth and tugged.

Goddamn that's good. And it's more: Sam put those rings there. Ryan's first piercing, as well as all his piercings since – Sam owns every one. The knowledge adds a mental layer to Ryan's lust that just drives him mad. "Please, Sir!" he yelps, his muscles growing rigid as he struggles to be good. "Please, your boy is so close!"

"Then come, boy," Sam says, lifting his head. "It's not going to stop me from fucking you." His mouth – and teeth – already back on those rings.

Fuck, that's bliss – and exactly what Ryan wants to hear. He bucks against his lover once, twice, and then shoots hot all over Sam's t-shirt. Well, fuck it; at least Ryan's responsible for doing the laundry, anyway.

The aftershocks have barely begun to subside when he slips from Sam's lap and clumsily strips out of his jeans.

Sam's grinning at his boy's eagerness and obedience, the way both override any need to recover. He unzips his own jeans, shoving them down over his hips and kicking them free of his feet. "C'mere," he says, crooking a finger at Ryan. "I want you to ride me."

"Yessir," Ryan mumbles, the words slurred in his haze. He straddles Sam's thighs and smirks at the sight of his lover's cock. "Mine," he whispers, nipping at Sam's jaw before he reaches down and starts to work that gorgeous cock into his ass.

Sam groans at the first penetration, that tight heat making his head swim and his cock swell even further. He slides his hands under Ryan, spreading his cheeks, his cock going deeper.

With a gasp Ryan takes more. His own cushion of lust just got blown through, so even despite his hours-old prep it's impossible to ignore the damn burning in his ass. And he loves that he can give this to his sir. "Yes," he whispers, widening his knees further apart to give his stance more strength.

Sam nods. "Yeah. God. You feel so good," he breathes, pushing all the way in, cock snugged tight inside that incredible heat. "Mine."

Ryan groans loudly, stunned anew to be so thoroughly filled. Any movement he makes right now, all he can feel is Sam buried so deep inside him. "Yours to destroy," he whispers, his fingertips caressing his lover's face. "Please, Sir. Bleed your boy again soon?"

"You want that now," Sam asks, Ryan's certainly tight enough, lube barely still there, "or just soon?"

Ryan grins faintly, surprised by the question. "I'd rather soon."

"This weekend," Sam offers, licking up the side of Ryan's throat as he shifts and thrusts in again.

"Yes– Tha–" Ryan can't manage more words. He slides his hands along Sam's biceps, coiled muscle so powerful beneath his fingertips. And tightens his own muscles, working to make it as good as he can for his Sir.

"I'll carve my name in your skin," Sam promises, his thrusts starting to gain speed as he hurtles towards his own pleasure. "Label you." Another nip at Ryan's throat. "Sam's slut."

Ryan cries out, his head dropping back. Carve on him? "Fuckin' hell," he mumbles, desperately aroused. Frantically riding his sir.

"You gonna come for me again?" Sam growls, nipping even more sharply. "Come at the thought of me fucking you while I cut you, while I carve my initials, my name, into your skin..."

"Sir! Please!" Ryan feels like he's about to burst into flames. "Sir, my god, please, your boy needs you!"

"Come with me," Sam orders, giving in, letting the waves of pleasure crash over him, his cock spurting hot and thick inside his boy. Marking him. Claiming him.

Ryan wails, suffused by burning. His climax shocks through him and he feels like he's been ripped open. Raw and vulnerable, and gasping against Sam's throat.

Fuck. Sam shudders hard and wraps his arms around Ryan, holding him tight. "I love you," he whispers fiercely.

The closest thing to words that Sam gets is a vague mumble, any actual words smeared against his shoulder and far from recognition anyway. Ryan feels completely wrecked. And it's blissful to know that he can check out totally if he needs to, because his Sir has got everything handled.