Tenny kept kissing him; fast, small little nibbles, grinding their foreheads together, mashing their noses. His breathing was audible and vocal, not like he felt good, but was in pain.
Reese didn’t like that at all. Sex was supposed to be fun, and satisfying, and not painful, no. So much else was. Recreation was supposed to be just that, he’d learned.
He lifted his arms, and started to close them around Tenny, planning to reel him in for an embrace.
But Tenny jerked backward. “Shit,” he muttered, and, shakily, nearly falling, he leaped off the bed.
Reese sat upright, reaching, trying to catch his gaze.
But Tenny ducked his head and went into the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind him.
Reese let his hand fall. Sat a moment, frowning to himself.
Beside him, Stephanie said, “Heh.”
~*~
Tenny came out of the bathroom ten minutes later, dressed in sweatpants and carrying a damp cloth that he handed to Reese. Stephanie was up and about, moving with her usual post-hookup efficiency. Once the sex stopped, she was a whole different person, and Reese was deeply appreciative of the way she didn’t place any demands upon them. She took her clothes and shoes and ducked into the bathroom. A moment later, the shower cut on.
Reese cleaned up as best he could with the cloth, and then flopped back, flat-out on the bed. His skin was cooling, and in a few minutes, he’d be chilled and pull up the blankets, but for now, he was lax, and tired, and comfortable.
Except that little voice in the back of his head telling him something wasn’t quite right.
Tenny puttered around the room, gathering their clothes and folding them on the dresser. He trashed the condom wrappers and squeezed a spritz of air freshener.
Finally, when it couldn’t be avoided any longer, he stretched out on the bed beside Reese, like usual.
In the bathroom, the water shut off. A few minutes later, Stephanie emerged, her face scrubbed clean of makeup, hair twisted up into a clip, dressed and presentable. “Thanks, boys,” she called over her shoulder as she headed for the door. “That was fun.” She gave them a quick wave, and was gone.
Only then did Reese turn his head on the pillow and say, “Are you okay?”
Tenny lay with his hands folded behind his head, staring at the ceiling, hair slicked back off his face, profile limned in lamplight. He had a very straight nose, and defined brow ridges. His mouth, when he wasn’t making faces, which he always seemed to be doing, was soft and pink.
His throat jumped as he swallowed, before he answered. “Yeah. Just tired.”
Reese continued to stare at him, trying hard to read this strange mood that had come over him. He was good at reading emotion and intent on an op: knowing when someone was about to bolt, to confess, to strike. Knew how to read body language in anticipation of an attack.
But this was trickier. This was delicate.
He thought about Tenny pulling back before, his quiet curse. Sharing Stephanie together like that had been his idea, so Reese didn’t think he was regretting it. But the faintest wrinkle marred his brow, and this silence was tense, and not comfortable.
An unpleasant thought occurred. “Did I do it wrong?”
Tenny turned his head, finally, his brows lifted. “What?”
“What we just did.” His face heated at the idea. “Did I do it wrong?”
Tenny blinked. And then snorted, face splitting into a grin – that lacked real humor. Tenny’s true smiles were rare things, eyes crinkling and dimples popping in his cheeks. This wasn’t one of them; this one hinted at some unpleasant emotion Reese couldn’t parse. “No.No.” He looked toward the ceiling again. “There’s definitely nothingwrongabout the way you fuck, trust me.”
Reese wasn’t convinced.
Tenny said, “Stop staring at me, you tit.”
Reese propped up on an elbow, so he could better assess his expression. Tenny’s eyes flicked over, and then away, his frown deepening. “You didn’t mind that I was staring at you before.”
Tenny let out a short breath. “Yes, well, that was different, wasn’t it? You might as well have been staring at the wall you were so far gone.”
“No,” Reese said, evenly. When Tenny got worked up, which he could sense him doing now, he’d found that his own instinct was to mellow. To keep calm; he’d never thought of himself as being a grounding presence for anyone – he’d never thought about how he related with anyone at all – but that seemed to be the case in this relationship. “I was looking at you. On purpose.”
