It’s been a really long fucking day.
The kind that had started shitty and just kept getting worse.
His phone had updated overnight, turned off and hadn’t turned back on so he’d slept right through his meeting with Coach, hadn’t woken up until Jordie had come banging into the room- in the middle of a fantastic dream- and promptly kicked him out of bed because they were going to be late for practice too.
They’d ended up being late anyways because some jackass had shoved a nail in one of Jamie’s tires and they’d had to change it before they could go anywhere. Tyler had shown up at their door with a particularly vivid hickey on his neck, high up where anyone could see it, fucking preening when Jordie had chirped him about it while Jamie had ground his teeth together and tried not to say anything. They’d ended up running bag skates until they couldn’t feel their legs, only to discover that the showers had no water pressure or heat so it was a frigid drizzle or just go home smelling like something had died .
He opts for the frigid drizzle if only to get some of the sweat off, before he’s called in to pick up the meeting he missed with Coach and any hope of spending the afternoon sacked out on the couch with Marshal and Tyler promptly flies out the window.
“It’s cool,” Tyler reassures him but all Jamie can focus on is the purpling bruise. “I’ll make Rousse give me a ride.”
“I’ll text you when I’m home? I could grab a six pack and we could watch a movie.” It would at least make up for what has turned out to be a really shitty day. They could order in too, spend the evening on one of their couches, and yeah it’s not a date or anything but it couldn’t hurt to pretend for a little bit right?
But Tyler’s face does this complicated little frown and Jamie doesn’t want to hear whatever is about to come out of his mouth.
“Sorry man, I’ve got plans tonight. Tomorrow? Beer and pizza on me.” God and he looks so hopeful that Jamie can’t say no, has to paste a smile on his face and agree to it even though he knows exactly what Tyler’s plans are and how he’ll probably show up with a fresh hickey tomorrow.
He spends the meeting with Coach nodding along, agreeing that he needs to step up his game as Captain, that with some contracts up at the end of the year they’re going to have to watch everyone very carefully as they move forwards and it makes Jamie sick that some of his teammates won’t be returning the following year, even though he knows trades happen, have to happen, and he can’t control them.
By the time he gets home it’s pushing six and he’s exhausted. Jordie’s still out, the apartment dark. He leaves the lights off as he makes his way to the kitchen, methodically opening and closing the cupboards; he’s vaguely hungry but nothing is jumping out at him and he just doesn’t have the energy to make anything. He ends up with a bowl of cereal, leaning back against the sink, the setting sun shining in through the window providing enough light to eat by. After he rinses his dishes and heads for his room. He’s still sore from earlier and in a crappy mood so he strips, not caring where his clothes land as he makes his way to his bathroom. If there’s one thing he loves about their apartment its that he and Jordie don’t have to share bathrooms. Considering the small assortment of toys he keeps tucked under the sink in a discreet box, he’s thankful as fuck for that- Jordie can be a nosey shit. He considers pulling one out, something thick and long to work out the stress he can feel building along his shoulders and spine. It looks like he has the place to himself for the foreseeable future, no sense in letting the day be a complete waste. He pulls out his favourite- it’s seven inches, black and feels heavy in his hand when he closes his fist around it. Heat starts to curl in his stomach as he leaves it on a hand towel on the counter.
He gets the shower going, gets the temperature as hot as he can bare it and gets under the stream, nearly moaning at how good it feels on his tight, sore muscles. He scrubs his hair clean, lathers his hands up, his chest, dragging his hands slowly over his nipples, teasing himself as he slowly works lower.
He’s half hard by the time he closes his soapy fist around his cock, starting off with slow, long strokes that cover him base to tip. He bites his lip at how good it feels, keeps it slow and loose as the pressure of the day starts to slide off his shoulders.
There’s water based lube he keeps handy, and he squeezes some onto his fingers, rubbing them together to warm it up a bit before stretching, sliding his fingers between his cheeks and teasing along his rim. It’s easier when he props a foot up on the edge of the tub, though the curtain sticks to his skin where it touches. He ignores it, groaning as he slowly slides one long finger into his ass. It’s never as good as when his partner does it, but it still feels amazing. He knows some guys don’t like getting fingered but for Jamie it’s as good as getting fucked. He could do that now, just get himself off with his fingers but tonight he’s dying for something more .
He’s working up to a second finger, just barely teasing where his ass is stretched around his first finger when the fire alarm goes off.
It’s so sudden, so unexpected that he startles, wrenches his hand free and feels his feet come out from under him.
He hits the bottom of the tub hard .
His shoulder knocks against the edge, his head just misses the wall, and pain explodes up his spine from his tailbone where he landed. He turns the air blue with the storm he swears up.
The water is still pouring down on him, his ass to his shoulder is throbbing in what he knows is going to be a spectacular bruise and the alarm is still going . It’s clearly not from his apartment, which means some asshole managed to burn dinner probably in an attempt to ruin Jamie’s night too . He sits there, under the pounding hot water, and contemplates just ignoring it until it gets turned off and he can try and salvage what’s left of this day.
Someone starts pounding on his door.
He’s in a shitty enough mood that he lets them bang away at his door for a solid minute before even attempting to pull his sore body up off the bottom of the tub. By this time the banging has stopped and he assumes that whoever it was has decided to get out and wait for the fire department with the rest of the building. Niggling worry is starting to override his shitty mood and the idea that this might not just be someones burnt dinner is starting to sink in. If there really is a fire and he gets stuck in the apartment Jordie will never let him live it down. That more than anything else is what gets him to his feet, pulling back the shower curtain as the bathroom door bursts open and Tyler comes crashing in.
“Jamie, I’ve been trying to get ahold of you ! What the hell man, can’t you hear the alarm?” Tyler demands before he’s even come to a stop and there’s a long moment where they stare at each other before Tyler seems to realize that Jamie is naked . His eyes go wide, pinks cheek and his gaze darts away, landing on the sink and- to Jamie’s dawning horror- the dildo still resting on the counter.
He really didn’t think it was possible for Tyler’s eyes to go any wider.
By Tylers knees, Marshall pokes his head into the room, eerily calm despite the noise and completely oblivious to the rising tension.
Jamie is about two seconds away from spontaneously combusting from sheer embarrassment.
He can feel his cheeks flaming, knows he’s covered in a horribly patchy blush, can feel it spreading down his chest but it doesn’t matter because Tyler isn’t looking at him , his gaze flying everywhere except for Jamie and the dildo on the counter.
“What are you doing here Tyler?” He tries not to sound like he’s dying but he’s pretty sure he’s failed when Tyler’s gaze settles on him again. That seems to snap him out of whatever panic he’s fallen into because a moment later he’s tossing a towel at Jamie and manhandling him out of the bathroom, through his bedroom and out of the apartment altogether, Marshall trailing behind easily.
“Everyone else is smart enough to get out of a burning building,” Tyler mutters as he drags Jamie along by the hand. Jamie lets himself be towed, barefoot, his freehand clutching his towel in an attempt to keep it up. Mentally he’s still stuck back in the bathroom, panic thrumming through him. “You get left alone for an hour Jameson, an hour , and the building burns down.”
“That’s not my fault!” He manages to chime in but Tyler ignores him, dragging him down the stairwell and finally out into the hot Texan night.
A large crowd has gathered outside; Jamie hadn’t known they had this many neighbors. A few people glance over, and Jamie flushes, clutching his towel tighter. He spots someone with a cell pointed his way and he scowls, surprised when a moment later Tyler has shrugged out of shirt, holding it out.
“Sorry,” he glances back at the girl with the cell phone, frowning. “I wasn’t thinking, I should have let you grab some clothes.”
Jamie tugs the shirt on- it’s a little too small across the shoulders, sticks to his skin where he’s still damp, but it smells like Tyler’s body wash, is warm from his skin, and he appreciates it. At least he feels a little less naked. Tyler looks completely at ease in just his jeans and Jamie catches himself soaking up the display before him. Unfortunately his gaze drifts back up, lands on the hickey on Tyler's neck and his mood sours again.
“What were you doing?” He doesn’t mean to sound so gruff.
“Getting your dumb ass out.” Tyler gives him a look.
“You came up to my apartment in a fire instead of going outside like you were supposed to.”
“You weren’t answering your phone.” He shrugs then says, “But Marshall was such a good boy, weren’t you?.” He crouches down, scrubbing his hands through the labs fur, and apparently that conversation is over.
It turns out someone on the first floor burnt the tv dinner. It takes over an hour before they’re allowed back in, once its been proven that aside from a terrible smell on the first floor, there really isn’t any damage. Jamie is tired and sore and grumpy again by the time they get let back in so he’s ready to say fuck it and just head to bed. Tyler had gotten ahold of Jordie, let him know what was going on, and once they’d reassured him that it was fine, the building wasn’t burning down, he’d told them he was staying over at Daddys and he’d see them later.
At this point he’s just looking forwards to jerking off quickly and falling asleep, which is why it kind of puts a kink in his plan when Tyler makes it clear he’s following Jamie back up to his apartment. He makes them stop off to get Marshall fed and settled back at home before tailing Jamie back upstairs.
Considering Jamie’s keys are in the apartment it’s not such a bad thing. He’s never been so glad they exchanged keys.
“Give me a sec to get changed,” he throws over his shoulder as he makes his way to his room. He drops his towel, tugging on a pair of briefs, then hesitates, toying with the hem of Tyler’s shirt. He wonders if he can just talk Tyler into letting him keep it overnight without seeming like a creep. There’s something comforting about it, about how it smells like Tyler, that he’s craving after his shitty day.
There’s a knock on the door as he’s toying with the idea and then Tyler sticks his head in. He zeroes in on the shirt Jamie’s still wearing and it could be his imagination but he looks pleased .
“What?” He prompts when Tyler doesn’t say anything.
“I just like the way you look in my clothes,” Tyler shrugs, taking a step into the room. Jamie chokes on his tongue.
“ What ?”
“I mean, you can say no,” Tyler crosses to him, looking oddly hesitant for a moment. “But I’ve been into you for pretty much forever and if it’s one sided just say so, but I’m kind of hoping it’s not.”
“Tyler,” Jamie breathes, uncertain.
“I like how you look in my clothes, I like how you look out of them ,” Tyler waggles his eyebrows and it startles a laugh out of Jamie. “I like how you look when you’ve rolled out of bed and your hair is literally everywhere . I like, I love everything about you Jamie and I’m feeling a little hopeful right now.”
Jamie's breath catches at the earnest expression on his face. It takes no effort at all to cup Tyler’s face, to close the distance between them and press their lips together in a way that sets his blood ablaze.
His shitty day starts to look up when Tyler kisses him back.
Tyler hisses when his thumb brushes against the dark bruise on his throat. Jamie frowns, growls low in his throat at the mark and Tyler laughs, bright and addictive and says,
“If you hate it that much, how about you make one of your own?”
Jamie takes that as a challenge.
Jamie’s face down on his bed, panting, sweat cooling on his skin when he feels the bed dip as Tyler climbs back in. There’s the feeling of a wet washcloth brushed between his cheeks and along his thighs, lingering longer than is probably necessary, before it disappears and Tyler is there, shifting and squirming until Jamie is forced to wrap an arm around his waist, spooning up behind him.
He sighs happily, melting into the embrace and Jamie presses a sweet, gentle kiss to the sweaty curls at the nape of his neck. They lay there for a long moment, the night seeping in, sleep slowly tugging at Jamie making his body feel heavy and slow. He relaxes into it, content, when Tyler says:
“Sometime we’ve gotta get that toy out, I bet you look amazing fucking yourself with it.”
From there it’s a tough call between round two or smothering Tyler with the pillow until he shuts up.
He makes the right choice in the end.