“Oh fuck yes. Holy shit, Ryan. Just like that.”
The truth was, it took almost nothing to get Fabian off, but he could still appreciate Ryan’s technique. It wasn’t showy, or even practiced, but it was so earnest that Fabian couldn’t help but be charmed.
Also, Ryan’s beard was tickling his balls, which was pretty excellent.
After what couldn’t have been more than three minutes, Fabian warned, “If you don’t want me to shoot in your mouth, you’d better pull off.”
Ryan did pull off, but then he said, “What?” And then Fabian ejaculated all over his confused face.
“I’m so fucking sorry. Oh my god.” Fabian knew his giddy laughter didn’t make him sound very sorry. “I was trying to warn you.”
Ryan wiped a hand over his beard, removing most of the mess, and then he smiled. “That was okay, then?”
“That was perfect.” Fabian covered his own face with a pillow and groaned. Ryan pulled the pillow away.
“It’s fine. I liked seeing that. I was just surprised.” He stood and started walking toward the bathroom. “I’ll be right back.”
Was this going well? Fabian wasn’t sure. He certainly enjoyed waking up to Ryan, and he got the impression that Ryan was having a reasonably good time, but he had no idea what would happen after he left Ryan’s apartment later.
“How about I have another go at making you come?” Fabian suggested when Ryan returned to the bedroom.
Ryan’s smile died. “I’m actually really hungry. Aren’t you?”
Fabian eyed him warily. “I could eat, I guess.”
“I have stuff. I can make breakfast. Or we can go somewhere, if you’d rather.”
Fabian sat up. “I’m afraid I have nothing to wear to a restaurant.” He gestured to his small pile of gross, sweaty club clothes on the floor.
“Oh. I could wash your clothes for you, so you at least don’t have to put dirty clothes on to walk home later.”
That actually made a lot of sense, so Fabian accepted. Clean underwear was too tempting to pass up. Ryan rummaged around in his closet and pulled something out.
“I know this isn’t really your style, but I bought these for Colleen and she’s closer to your size than I am.” He handed Fabian a small stack of Toronto Guardians clothes. It appeared to be a hoodie and some pajama pants. “Just until your clothes are clean.”
The horror Fabian felt must have been clear on his face, because Ryan laughed and said, “I promise I won’t take photos.”
Fabian shook his head, disgusted with himself. “I’m being a snob. Sorry. Thank you for the clothes, they look very...soft.”
“If you like them, you can keep them. Do you like eggs?”
“If they’re scrambled, I do.”
Ryan kissed his cheek. “Scrambled eggs. Coming right up.”
Ryan wasn’t at all prepared for what the sight of Fabian wearing official team-licensed clothing would do to him.
He emerged from the bedroom as Ryan was stirring eggs on the stovetop, his slender, bare feet peeking out from the bottoms of the flannel Guardians pajama pants. There was a definite wrongness about Fabian wearing hockey fan gear, but Ryan’s heart fluttered anyway. Helikedseeing Fabian in his colors. In his home.
“How do I look?” Fabian asked sardonically.
“Comfortable.”
Fabian shoved his hands in the pocket of the hoodie. “They are quite cozy. I can’t lie.”
Ryan chewed his lip, and then turned back to the eggs.
“What?” Fabian asked. “I know I look stupid, but—”
