[backdated to May, 2015; warning for locker room roleplay]
"No, Mum," Ryan says patiently, "we can have dinner whenever you want. You and Jeanne are in charge of the resort's kitchen, all right? Just decide what time you want us all in the dining room, and tell the kitchen manager. They'll take care of it."
"Oh, Ryan." Sofia Kwanten gives her son a bemused smile, but there's a glint of genuine worry in her eyes. "You can't do this, you know. The tallest poppies..." she tells him in a loud whisper, though there's no one else out on the wide balcony with them. The wide balcony of the Southern Ocean Lodge, looking out over a spectacular view of Kangaroo Island. A comparatively tiny island, to be sure, but as it's all theirs for the next few days...
"We can't what?" he prompts.
"You can't just... just... flash all Sam's money around like this," she insists earnestly. "Buying out an entire resort... It's just very Hollywood, isn't it? So attention-grabbing."
He sighs and leans on the railing, watching the waves crash on the shore below. "Believe me, it would draw a lot more attention if we went somewhere with other guests, who would be watching Sam like hawks. And they couldn't miss that I'm always with him, even when he's on holiday." He arches a saturnine eyebrow at his mother. "And anyway, this isn't nearly all his money. So just enjoy being Queen of the world for a few days, eh?"
"How's everyone doing out here?' Sam asks, coming out onto the balcony. "I brought some wine," he says, holding up a bottle, the stems of three wineglasses tucked between the fingers of his other hand. His dad and Ryan's are settled in at the bar, talking about sports, and his mum's having a pre-dinner nap, having taken advantage of the lodge's spa services.
Ryan immediately looks up at the sound of his husband's voice, and a smile blooms on his face. That thrill that twisted through him when he and Sam first met – yeah, it still gets him. "Wine would be great, thank you," he replies, reaching out to take the glasses.
Sofia plants her hands on her hips. "Boys, this isn't how you really live, is it? It's much too early in the day for wine."
"Mum, you're on holiday," Ryan reminds her, and pushes a goblet into her hand. "So be on holiday."
She sniffs in disapproval while Sam fills her wineglass, but then catches a pleading look from her son; and perhaps there's a tinge of warning mixed into that expression, too. "Oh, what the hell," she snaps, giving in and throwing back a large swallow of wine.
"No, we don't normally drink this early," Sam says, sipping at his own. "Normally I have to be at work at some crazy hour and Ryan's usually up before me." He smiles at his husband. "And usually when we do drink it's a beer or two with dinner and that's it. Wine is for special occasions," he adds, smile widening into a grin.
"See? Special occasions," Ryan agrees, putting an arm around his mum and gently hugging her to him. "Such as, being in charge of the biggest kitchen you've ever been in. You tell them what's what."
Sofia smiles and finishes off her glass, then pushes it at Sam. "Now I think you're trying to get rid of me. Very well, I'll go down and speak with the manager," she says, and kisses Ryan's cheek. "Do you know, was there anything in particular your mum wants, or likes?" she asks Sam.
"She's not eating red meat these days," Sam says, "and I think she has to be careful with garlic but other than that she's pretty easy to please."
"Right, then." Sofia kisses Sam on the cheek as well before taking herself off back inside, already turning recipes over in her mind.
Watching her go, Ryan tosses back his wine. Then he grins at his husband, sidling up to gently bump shoulders.
Sam grins back. "I got a kiss," he points out.
Ryan laughs out loud. "Yeah, she seems to have warmed up to you. That's good, because, well, because she's my mum. But..." he trails off with a shake of his head.
Sam laughs. "I know, you don't have to say it," he says, leaning in against Ryan. "Has she mentioned kids yet?" he teases.
"Only obliquely. She expressed her disapproval of Tim's latest, and said that for once she's relieved he hasn't knocked anyone up," Ryan answers, slipping his arm around Sam's waist. "And then she gave me a look."
"We'll get there," Sam promises. "We can watch Alex and Luke struggle for a bit and by the time it's our turn, we'll be pros." He laughs.
"Ohhh, god," Ryan groans, dropping his head to rest on Sam's shoulder. "They're due in just a few months, aren't they? Or, she is, anyway. What the hell will we get them for baby gifts?"
"A case of good scotch," Sam suggests with a grin.
Ryan laughs. "Scotch, that's all? You don't think we should go right to the heavy sedatives?"
"For them or the baby?" Sam deadpans.
Snickering, Ryan shrugs. "Good point." He lifts his wineglass and touches it to Sam's. "To... us. Is that too cliché?"
"Not at all," Sam says, clinking them gently together. "To us." He takes a sip and smiles at Ryan. "This place is amazing. Thanks for putting it all together."
Ryan beams. "I'm just so excited we could find a few consecutive days off in your schedule." He sips at his wine, and his expression turns more serious. "Do your parents think I'm too extravagant with your money?"
"They haven't said anything," Sam says, the thought not even having crossed his mind. "Why? Did your mum say something?" Christ.
Ryan does a sort of half nod, half shrug; it comes out looking more like an elaborate shoulder wiggle. "But... she knows me. She knows I don't love you for your wallet." He leans against the railing, putting his back to the sea in favour of looking at his lover. "But it would really bother me if your parents thought I was some gold-digger."
Sam shakes his head. "They know you too," he says, switching his wineglass to his left hand and wrapping his arm around Ryan. "They know we love each other, they know you take care of me, they know we do this stuff because we both want to."
Smiling again, Ryan nuzzles Sam's neck. "Thank you," he whispers in gratitude. He sighs happily. "God, I love you so much. And standing outside in the sun like this, touching you? It's almost as good as being home in Sonoma."
Sam grins. "Your mum drives me up the wall sometimes but I love being with our families, having them accept us the way they do." It makes him think even more about coming out.
"Thank you," Ryan whispers, again, because even though he doesn't expect to ever be forced to choose between his husband and his family, he's still grateful. His family is incredibly important to him, he's always been close with his mum, and if it were even possible for him to love Sam even more, the last words from Sam's lips would tip the scales.
"For what?" Sam says, setting his wineglass down and pulling Ryan in for a kiss.
Ryan lightly lays his hands on Sam's nape and kisses him again. "For being who you are," he says huskily. "For leaving me with no choice but to fall in love with you all over again, every day."
Sam grins. His hands slide down Ryan's back, thisclose to cupping his ass, and he glances at the glass behind them. All too aware of the bar on the other side. "You'd better find us a corner or closet before I scandalize our dads."
Snickering, Ryan kisses Sam one last time. "Do you think they leave the utility cupboards unlocked around here? We could recreate our wedding day!" Still laughing, he takes the wine bottle and heads back inside.
Sam nods at their dads as they pass by. "Everything good?" he asks.
"Brilliant," his dad responds, diving right back into the conversation with Ryan's dad.
Christ. "They're two peas," he tells Ryan, amused.
"Thank heaven for that," Ryan mutters with a grin. "Can you imagine how difficult it could be if our families didn't get along?"
"Ry!" his younger brother Tim calls from down the hall. "Those waves look good out there."
"Yeah." Ryan gives Tim a cheerful smile, and tries to angle his body so that his growing erection isn't quite so obvious. "They've got boards, you can ask at the concierge. Mind the rocks, though."
"Cool." Tim passes them with a snicker.
Apparently Ryan didn't quite manage the discretion he'd been trying for.
Sam laughs. "And people ask if I mind being an only," he kids.
"Ahhh, but just think! You're not now," Ryan says, clapping Sam on the shoulder. "You married into it, and so you're cursed with them as well." He laughs and then quickly puts distance between them when a resort employee turns the corner ahead of them.
Sam hadn't really thought of it like that before. Sure he'd known he has brothers-in-law now but that they're his siblings? "Shit," he murmurs under his breath.
"Yep." Ryan nods as the young woman passes them. "Dorky, graceless dumbasses that they are," he says, hands on his hips. "You now have a solid share in the family embarrassment."
Sam laughs then nudges Ryan forward. "You were supposed to be finding us a closet..."
"I don't think that..." Ryan frowns, trying another door, only to find that it's locked. Just like all the others they've passed. "Oh my god, I have an idea," he says suddenly, his face lighting up. He grabs Sam's hand and tugs him into the stairwell. Heading for the swimming pool.
Sam laughs and lets himself be tugged along, wondering what Ryan's come up with.
"Did you ever prefer a certain kind of porno?" Ryan asks over his shoulder, pleased when his card key grants them instant access to the furnished pool area. But he strides right past the water and pushes open the door to the men's locker room.
"Yeah," Sam says but it's not until they're in the locker room that things click. "This was yours?"
"This was... well, maybe one of them," Ryan answers, his smile edged with self-consciousness. "I mean, a bunch of other blokes, sweaty and half-dressed," he pulls off his t-shirt and tosses it into one of the empty lockers. "That one incredibly hot guy on the team who got me hard every time he grinned at me..."
Sam laughs. "And did he know how you felt?" he asks, shedding his shirt and then his cargo shorts in kind.
"Fuck, I hope not," Ryan says, but of course he's instantly distracted by Sam's Oh my god naked! body. Abruptly he looks away, pretending to dig through his locker, his face on fire. "I mean, I tried not to let on. Didn't want to fight him."
"Maybe he would have let you suck his cock anyway," Sam suggests, watching that flush spread down Ryan's throat.
"You think so?" Ryan looks over his shoulder, extremely careful to keep his gaze fixed on Sam's face. "And he wouldn't have tried to punch me later? Because I know I could've kicked his ass, 'cuz I was competing back then. Boxing." He turns to face his lover, leaning as-if casually against the wall. "But I just wanted to taste him, so bad."
"He might have, as long as you didn't try to out him to his girlfriend or the other guys or suggest in any way that you sucking on his cock made him gay," Sam says, amused, grabbing a bar of soap from the basket and heading for the showers.
"Uh... Uh-huh," Ryan mutters, craning his neck to watch as Sam rounds the corner and disappears from view. Then he kicks off his own shorts and shoes in a flash, coming close to tripping himself in the process. He grabs one of the travel-size courtesy bottles and practically skids into the shower room, quickly flipping on the taps. Close, but not too close, to where Sam is standing. "Oi, mate," he says, not even breathing hard when he holds out the plastic bottle, "shampoo?"
Sam gives Ryan a look. "Sure... thanks," he says, tentatively taking the bottle, the offer – and Ryan by extension – clearly odd. He half turns his back on the other man, soaping himself up completely, not an inch of his best-fucking-shape-ever body ignored.
Shit, Ryan thinks, feeling his face heat again. Fuck if he didn't have to run after the most gorgeous naked guy in the world; what was he thinking? He sneaks a furtive glance at Sam and swallows a groan, then turns his face to the hard spray in hopes of somehow concealing his arousal.
But Sam's been in enough gyms, locker rooms, showers, been around enough guys to have his gaydar pinging a fucking mile a minute. And there's no one else here. Nor is there likely to be. Eyes slitted almost closed, he turns, continuing to wash up, watching Ryan through his lashes. Seeing whether he takes the bait.
Turning so that he can soak his hair, Ryan's gaze skates casually past... And he does a sharp double-take. Shit! And, "Fuck!" he mutters, panicked. Because now he can't stop staring.
And now Sam opens his eyes fully, gazing back. Challenging the other man. "Like what you see?"
Ryan lifts his chin and attempts to play off his reaction with a shrug. "Nothing I haven't seen before," he says, smiling a little and letting his eyes linger on Sam's mouth.
"That's too bad," Sam says casually, putting the soap back on the shelf and reaching for the shampoo. "I could've sworn you looked like you wanted to be on your knees over here."
That comes as a hell of a shock, but even so, Ryan isn't just going to hit the tile – no matter how much he wants to. He does close in, though, prowling slowly nearer until he can reach out and just ghost his hand past that gorgeous cock. "And if I do want to? I'm not sure you look all that interested."
"Does it matter?" Sam asks, amused, although his cock gives a definite jerk at the near touch. "You're here and my girlfriend's not."
One corner of Ryan's mouth curves up. Now he does slowly, gracefully, fold to his knees. He keeps a wary eye out, alert for the slightest aggressive movement. Ready to protect himself in an instant. But even so, he doesn't hesitate; he's not going to blow this opportunity, so to speak. He closes his hand loosely around Sam's cock and licks out at the head.
Fuck yes. "Go on. Don't be shy," Sam teases, keeping Ryan shielded from the shower behind him.
The smirk in that rich voice just makes Ryan's smile widen. He flicks his glance up, then works his way down Sam's cock in a series of swallows, tasting him hungrily.
"Ah, fuck," Sam breathes, hands curling into fists as Ryan sucks him down. His girlfriend's good, better than a lot of women he's been with, but Christ, guys give the best fucking blowjobs.
Sounds like positive feedback so far. Ryan cups his other hand around that heavy sac, fondling it gently as he begins to rhythmically suck.
Christ. "I knew you wanted it," Sam slurs, pushing a little deeper, testing what the other man can take.
Yeah, and apparently this guy read him like a book... Ryan doesn't mind one damn bit. He slumps lower onto his knees so that he can drop his head back and swallow his luscious mouthful deeper.
"That's it," Sam urges, thrusting in, the guy's rock hard cock not escaping his notice for a second. "You fucking take it."
Sure, Ryan'll fucking take it. But he's not for a second giving up his hold on this guy's balls. An advantage like that? Fuck, no. He tugs them now – gently, sure, but noticeably. And starts to suck hard every time Sam pulls back.
"Hey..." Sam says at that, but he doesn't stop thrusting. He's too far gone, too close for that. Christ. "Fuck, I'm gonna come..."
Fuck. Yes. It's a triumph quite unlike any other. One last hard suck to the crown and Ryan pulls off entirely, tilting his face back to present a clear target.
Whatever Sam had expected, it wasn't that. Fuck. He grabs for his cock and aims true, spurt after spurt spattering Ryan's skin.
Every hot splash feels like a burn, and Ryan slowly smiles. Licking out he takes the flavor into himself, savoring it. Looking up at that gorgeous face from beneath his eyelashes.
Sam grins down at Ryan and holds out his hand, pulling his lover to his feet. "You are one hot mess," he teases, kissing Ryan anyway.
Ryan grins back and wraps himself around his husband, rubbing his cheek against Sam's to share some of the stickiness. "You are so sexy," he tells him, and steals another kiss. "So damn hot. You're, like, my own personal god. And I can follow you around and just," his hands slide possessively over Sam's ass, "just offer tribute whenever I feel like it. Or when you order me to."
Sam laughs. "I'm glad you feel that way," he says, cupping Ryan's ass in return. "Given how fucking sexy you are."
A soft moan in response to Sam's touch, and Ryan quickly scrubs a handful of water over his face before turning to devote himself to rubbing his whole body against Sam. "Please, Sir," he murmurs, his erection an undeniable spike of need slipping against his lover's hip. "Oh god, please."
"Go ahead," Sam nods, grin widening as he adds, "but only if you can do it like this."
"Mmm." Ryan hides a grateful smile in Sam's hair. "Yes, Sir. You know that I can." He braces his back against the wall for support then wraps one leg around his lover, bringing him in tight and leaving zero room for argument. He hitches his hips, rocking against Sam, using him and trusting that it's all right to work himself up to a fever pitch like this – that his Sir won't leave him hanging.
"Such a slut for it," Sam murmurs, leaning in, lips ghosting over Ryan's skin as his boy ruts against him. "Needy, filthy..."
"Unh, fuck yes." Ryan can hardly deny it now. After all this time. Now, when he's humping his lover like a dog in heat. Completely wanton and no fucking shame at all. "Oh god, Sir," he whimpers, desperation tingeing his plea as his whole body tightens with need. "Please, Sir. Please let me come."
"Do it," Sam growls, nipping at Ryan's jaw. "For me."
The edge of teeth is so slight, but Ryan knows it could be so much more... He lets the sensation spin through him and it carries him straight into the heart of the explosion. His shouts bounce off the wet tiles, too loud for such a close room, and still he rides Sam's hip, working out every single last fucking aftershock. Until all he can do is slump back against the wall and give his husband a lazy fuck-drunk smile.
"You look utterly debauched," Sam says with a grin. A rather pleased and very smug grin.
"Mmmm." Ryan's smile might even match Sam's for smugness. "That's because I'm an incredibly lucky boy, and I have a Sir who takes very thorough care of me."
"Very thorough," Sam agrees, leaning in for a kiss.