Fabian stepped back, and took the flowers—a luxurious bouquet of lilies and roses that, like his apartment, was a bold mix of reds and purples. “They’re beautiful. Thank you. Come inside.”
When they were inside the apartment, Fabian asked, “How was your trip?”
“Not bad. We won both games.”
“Congratulations.” Fabian glanced furtively at Ryan’s hands as he was hanging his coat on a hook by the door. They didn’t seem to have any recent bruises on them. He couldn’t shake the image of how bloody his hand had been in the video after he’d punched another man’s face in.
When Ryan shot him a puzzled look, Fabian realized he’d been standing, frozen, holding the flowers. He snapped out of it. “I have a vase I can put these in.” He laughed, and he could hear how forced it sounded. “It will be excited to be of use again. It’s been a while since anyone has given me flowers.”
“Fabian?”
“Where did I put it?” Fabian’s voice was trembling. He swallowed. “Oh, here it is.” He reached up and pulled it off a shelf over his sink.
“Did something happen?”
“Nope. No, I’m fine. I—” The vase fell to the floor with a spectacular crash. “Shit!”
Ryan was there, pulling Fabian away from the broken glass. “Sit on the bed,” he instructed.
“I have to clean it up. Fuck, I can’t believe how clumsy I am.”
“You’re not.” Ryan wrapped a hand gently around Fabian’s wrist and lifted his hand. “Look, you’re shaking.”
“I’m just cold. It’s always freezing in here.”
“Sit down.” Ryan’s voice was firm and steady. Fabian sat. “I’ll clean that up. And then you’ll tell me what’s wrong, okay?”
Fabian wasn’t used to Ryan taking control of a situation, and Ryan acting out of character was doing nothing to help how rattled he felt. He watched as Ryan cleaned up the glass, hoping to god that Ryan didn’t cut himself because Fabian didn’t think he could take the sight of blood on those hands right now.
When the mess was cleaned up, Ryan crouched on the floor in front of him. “What’s wrong?”
Fabian didn’t know what to say. Should he admit that he’d been purposely watching videos of Ryan’s fights? He knew Ryan wouldn’t like that. And if he did tell him, and Ryan learned that the reason for Fabian’s anguish was that he was horrified by what he’d seen—by what Ryan did on a regular basis—how would that make Ryan feel? Like a monster, probably.
Ryan wasn’t a monster. No matter what Fabian had felt when he’d watched those fights, he knew that for certain.
So he didn’t tell him. Instead, he sank to the floor, into Ryan’s lap, and nuzzled his neck. “I want you,” he murmured.
It was cowardly of him, but Fabian needed to erase the images of Ryan fighting from his brain. He needed to replace them with Ryan’s kisses and sighs, and the reverent way Ryan touched him.
“Fabian—” Ryan’s protest was cut off when Fabian kissed him. It only took a moment before Ryan was kissing him back, and then Fabian was unbuckling Ryan’s belt. Ryan sucked in a breath, and suddenly Fabian was being lifted off the floor as Ryan stood, still holding him. Ryan set him gently on the bed, and Fabian scooted back until he was lying against the pillows, grinning up at Ryan as he covered him. Ryan still looked apprehensive, so Fabian helped by removing his own shirt.
“Are you sure you’re—?”
Fabian slid his hands up the sides of Ryan’s broad torso, pushing his T-shirt up. “The only thing that’s wrong with me is that you’re not kissing me.”
It was almost the truth; Fabian was feeling remarkably better now that he had Ryan’s huge body pressed against him. And then Ryan fixed the remaining problem by kissing him exactly the way Fabian wanted to be kissed—slow and adoring. Fabian sighed happily as the tension left his body, replaced by the wonderful feelings of comfort and affection that always warmed him when he was with Ryan.
They made out for a long time, trading soft kisses on each other’s cheeks and necks and sharing deep, tender kisses when their mouths found their way back together. It didn’t feel like foreplay; instead of becoming aroused, Fabian felt loose and gooey with bliss.
He rolled Ryan onto his back and snuggled against him, resting his head on Ryan’s solid chest. Ryan wrapped an arm around him, and Fabian couldn’t remember ever feeling so safe and comfortable.
“Do anything fun today?” Ryan asked.
“I wrote a new song.” Fabian bit his lip, trying to decide how much to reveal. “It’s a bit...sappier than my usual style.”
“Oh?”
“Something inspired me to write a love song. Can’t imagine what.”
