#soap are sexy gay bastard

[midnightfox8]

Sexual Values

~~~~~~~ • Soap x Ghost • ~~~~~~~~

| John "Soap" MacTavish |

“He is young, fit and cocky” by Ghost.

Attraction: Masculine

• Soap is attracted to masculinity, based on his preferences in body shape and orientation, he is 96.4% gay. (Soap orientation is a gay, because he's like lads. In male society he easily finds company, he, like a daring god of sex, cleverly lures the victim into his trap)

Sex Drive: Hypersexual

• Soap is a hypersexual person, he loved to release the accumulated excitement, his libido and stamina amaze all his exes with the dexterity. John is a clever seducer, his easy smiles and fire in his eyes are captivating, his muscular, trained body, humor and deep voice are the main attributes, and of course, a Scottish twist with an accent. He is a passionate, loving and energetic lover (Ghost stirs the blood in his veins.)

Dominance Axis: Switch

• Soap changes positions, he can easily try on the role of a dom, dominating a partner, and he also manages to become a sub with pleasure (for the most part, he is pleased to be a passive with his lieutenant). Basically his dominant and submissive are distributed as 50/50.

Deviance Axis: Kinky

• Soap has deviations, he has peculiar preferences in sex, he is a rather artistic man. He can be flirtatious, passionate and ardent with playfulness giving himself over to the process, but he is also accompanied by softness and tenderness towards his partner (Ghost).

Affection Axis: Open

• Soap represents a hedonist man capable of stopping for one night (regular hookups for him relieve accumulated tension). There’s more to him than his easy smiles and shameless flirting. But these 37.5% also show that he is quite deeply sensitive and inclined to open his soul to his lover, especially he is loyal and devoted to his chosen one.

P.S Soap is in love with his superior officer, his lieutenant is his dream man. Later, they are in a relationship. Scot is the luckiest idiot in the world.

| Simon "Ghost" Riley |

“Big creepy bleedin’ bastard with dark humor” by Soap.

Attraction: Masculine

• Ghost is attracted to masculinity, based on his taste in men and sexuality, he is gay as a box of ribbons, 100% masculinity clearly indicates his preference for men. (His tastes fall on a loud Scot with a terrible hawk)

Sex Drive: Medium

• Ghost has an average rate of sexual activity, he is hypersexual 46.9% but by large estimates he is 53.1% hipo, so based on the fact that Brit is quite reserved and presumptive to hot things (like Johnny). A ghost can be an ardent and passionate lover, giving attention and reverent touches, he is excited in a balanced way and acts according to passion.

Dominance Axis: Dominant

• Simon is dominant by nature, the alpha among predators, his preferences for dominance are part of his essence. But Ghost has a tendency to make concessions towards his Sergeant.

Deviance Axis: Balanced

• Ghost has some peculiar deviations; he sticks to the middle in a balanced manner. He is pure in some aspects in bed, but at times he can be playful. Having experience with men (having sex before Mexico and Roba), he could indulge in hookups for several years after he became Ghost, but this happened extremely rarely, mainly due to his secretive personality and crush on Soap.

Affection Axis: Exclusive

• Ghost is a deep and eccentric man, he cannot have sexual intercourse without proposal (his past hookups made him realize this). 93.8% is the highest degree of trust and freedom in front of a partner.

He is looking for a deep connection, understanding and acceptance, and he can only open up to the one he loves, the man of his heart... Soap.

[hedgehogsaretheultimatelifeform]

Kinktober 2024 Day Eighteen

Shower Sex

John "Soap" MacTavish/Simon "Ghost" Riley

“Ah, fuck…” Soap cried out as he reached up for the actual bar of soap, freezing as a shot of pain ran down his arm from where his movement had pulled at the stitches in his bicep.

The door was knocked open before Soap had even had the chance to stumble back against the wall, Ghost’s hurried footsteps stopping as he yanked the shower curtain back, revealing his concerned face.

“What happened?” Ghost was, as always, gorgeous, but he had just interrupted the first alone time Soap had had in a week. Bloody medical. He was lightly shot in the arm. He should have been out the day they did his stitches.

“I stretched.” Soap grunted, waving him away. “I’m fine.”

“No. I’m not risking having you go back into hospital.” Ghost held his hand out, beckoning Soap closer to inspect the stitches. “Only just got you back. C’mere, I’m helping you.”

“I can fucking shower myself.” Soap tried to wave him away again, staggering back to lean on the wall as he watched his words fall on deaf ears.

At least Ghost had the decency to look sexy while stripping, even quickly. Soap slowly moved down the wall, reaching out with his good arm to slowly turn the heat of the shower up, moving it to something that resembled Ghost’s preferred temperature, which was as close to as boiling as the shower would go, because for Simon, a good shower meant he went in feeling like uncooked pasta and came out feeling like cooked pasta (whatever the fuck that meant), before he slid back under the stream of water.

Ghost stepped in shortly afterwards, drawing the curtain behind him before his bare chest meet Soap’s back. He sighed blissfully as the hot water hit his skin, as he looped his arms around Soap’s middle, slowly pulling him back to lean his weight on him.

“Bit fucking gay, this…” Soap mumbled, laying his hands over Ghost’s.

“You’re my boyfriend, course it’s fucking gay.” Ghost snapped, then exhaled sharply. “Sorry.”

“I know.” Soap nodded, leaning back on Ghost’s chest, tilting his head back into his shoulder. “I’m sorry for getting shot. I know you worry.”

Ghost mumbled. “S’okay. It’s not your fault that Graves is a small dicked bastard.”

“That’s true enough.” Soap felt his eyes sliding closed, before he actually processed what Ghost had said, and snapped them open. “Wait, how do you know—”

“I’m assuming.”

“Oh. Shame. Could have blackmailed him with that.”

“Where’s that come from, then?” Ghost tilted his head against Soap’s, ignoring how Soap wrinkled his nose when he felt Simon’s wet hair press against his face. “When you were first trying to get in my pants, it was all that stuff about how I shouldn���t be ashamed, it’s natural, it’s not about size but technique…”

“Yeah, because how else was I meant to interpret you acting all shy and awkward about it? That the reason you had your knickers in a twist was because you had a monster between your legs?”

“You’re the one that always proclaims to be open minded.” Ghost’s lips ghosted over Soap’s skin. “I just didn’t want to hurt you.”

“And you never have.” Soap squeezed Ghost’s hand.

“And, you’re hard.”

Soap glanced down at the chub rising between his legs. “Fuck off, it’ll pass.”

“Doesn’t have to.” Ghost secured one of his arms around Soap’s middle, so he could let his other hand trail lower on Soap’s body. “Already in the right place to clean you up.”

“You are a degenerate bastard. Do it.” Soap eased his feet apart as Ghost’s hand dipped down, cradling his hand over Soap’s wet balls. Soap sighed as Ghost slowly pulled their bodies back, out of the stream of water, basking the two of them in the steam as he cupped a hand round Johnny’s dick and started stroking him slowly.

Soap groaned, eyes fluttering closed as he realised just how frustrated and pent up he was. It was impossible to have a cheeky wank while in a hospital cot, what with all the other guys in the room and the attendants swooping in and out at all hours. Thank god for Ghost, who was the only one to actually understand that it was doing Soap more harm than good to still be lying in a hospital bed, and so had… ‘persuaded’ (his words) the doctor that Soap would be better off taking the second part of his recovery at home.

Ghost hummed in his ear, kissing Johnny’s shoulder. “Just like that, hmm?”

Soap nodded, rocking his hips into Ghost’s hand, vaguely aware that Ghost was getting hard behind him, using Soap’s movement to rut his dick between his ass cheeks.

“What about you?” He murmured.

“You can do me after. When you’re clean and dry and in bed. That sound good?”

Soap nodded, feeling his gut tightening. “Very good. Wanna cum.”

“Go on, come. I’ll get you cleaned up, dried and clothed. Get you to wear one of my shirts.”

“Fuck…” Soap groaned, thinking about being dressed in a shirt with Riley written on the pocket, fingers picking them hem to keep himself focused as he sucked Ghost’s dick. “Can I blow you, then?”

“Soap…”

“Just a little.” He grunted, twitching in Ghost’s hand. “Think about my arm. Needs rest and recovery, like the doc said.”

“Hmmm…” Ghost squeezed Soap’s dick. “Good point. Alright, you can blow me.”

“Thank… Christ.” Soap blurted out as he came, shivering as his other senses returned, making him realise how wet he was, as the water resting on his skin had cooled, until Ghost nudged him back into the shower to work on the promised clean up.

“I love you.” Soap murmured.

Ghost was silent for a moment. Then he said, “I love you too.”

There was a beat, where the only sound was the water flowing from the shower head and hitting the tub below their feet.

Ghost broke it, as he pressed his head against Soap’s again. “Didn’t think you’d be the first one to say it.”

“I’ve actually said it a lot.”

“When?”

“Mostly when you were asleep.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Soap turned around and kissed him, still leaning on him for support. “I wasn’t sure you’d say it back.”

“Of course I would have.” Simon poked his face. “Dummy.”

“Well, I know that now.” Soap poked him back. “And, I said something about a blow job…”

“In the bedroom. Not here.” Ghost caught him, wrapping Soap tightly in his arms again before Soap could sink to his knees. “Think about all that water waste. Go get your towel.”

Soap grinned. “On it.”

[fixfoxnox]

Hey Luke, been a while since I've submitted but oh man, Fantasies was amazing ngl. When you wrote it was it a SiTO AU-divergent or a complete one-shot drabble based off the OG MW2? Coz I noticed you used "John" and not "Johnny"; and Roach never called him "Soap"

Because my guy, OG Soap, Roach, Ghost was the bomb. You can't tell me Cpt MacTavish and Roach didn't have anything going on, especially from the first mission, Cliffhanger??? Like. The banter, the low-key flirting. Then Ghost in Hornet's Nest, the clear panic and urgency in his voice with Cpt MacTavish when they nearly lost Roach, guiding him through the favela levels to reach safety. Like urgh, Bug deserves to be happy and squished between these 2 mountains of men :(

(also, its my headcanon that only Roach and Ghost got to call Soap in their small intimate moments and Soap was always Cpt MacTavish to everyone else until they rescued Price in the OG timeline, but can you imagine that its their little secret that undoes Soap every time they whisper it filthily in his ear or moan it out loud??)

On a side note, I was originally a Soap/Roach shipper years ago, then it transitioned to a Ghost/Roach pairing, and then one day it became poly and turned into Ghost/Roach/Soap. I can't be the only one like this... right? Right? RIGHT???

I fully believe that the 09 Soap/Roach/Ghost crew were all fucking. THERE IS NO WAY THEY WEREN'T LIKE COME ON!! Like you said especially in Cliffhanger and The Hornets Nest those bitches were gay!!! Like everyone editing the one clip of Captain MacTavish doing to playful "took the scenic route, eh?" And its like babes he was speaking to my boy Roach look at him look at his boyfriend ahhhgg

Fantasies is meant to be outside of SiTO and more of a Roach joins the team and he and Soap get together first kinda thing. It wasn't meant to be 09 Soap and Roach, however you can definitely read it that way

Also you have asked the dreaded question, the one I was hoping to have never pointed out sbdbjdjd Okay guys so you'll notice in pretty much all of my smut with Soap the characters will call him John instead of Johnny and I have a couple of reasons for this:

Since I played the first few games first I grew very used to the mental John "Soap" MacTavish and when Ghost started calling him Johnny in the reboots let me tell y'all I was confused. I'm not a huge fan of the like constant use of Johnny that people will do in fics, it turns me away from them fairly quickly. I much prefer it if they use like Soap or John and save Johnny for specific moments, because it feels like more of a playful nickname for Soap rather than something he would want to be called all the time (and the fact he clearly only likes it when someone like Ghost uses it based on the "only ghost can pull that off" line)

Essentially, I just kinda prefer John over Johnny most of the time sjjdjfjfjf, however I like saving Johnny and dropping it at moments where Roach and Ghost are being playful or teasing to add a little pizzaz. Also I usually don't have them use their call-signs while they're in bed with each other (however...sexy times where they use their call-signs might be...something 👀👀) so thats why Roach doesn't refer to him by Soap during it (Roach is the only exception to this and thats because the poor bastard got stuck with the name Gary and I headcanon that he prefers Roach over his actual name)

I have met several OG Soap/Roach shippers who then transformed into Ghost/Roach and/or Ghost/Roach/Soap. I honest to God cannot remember who I shipped first 😭 💙💙💙

[sweet-teas-writing]

A Woman Scorned (Chp 2)

A/N: Here is chapter 2!

Two: Not Good Enough

Work was my safe haven whenever I have a rough morning at home. I worked as one of the top marketing directors for Springwells Marketing Agency. My job was to work with my team to design the best advertising for our clients' products to help increase profit and recognition. I loved creating new ideas, using different patterns and techniques to make sure our products are known throughout the city of Miami and the whole state of Florida. Once I reached my floor, I was greeted by my best friends Yolanda Rodriguez and Blake Sanders. Yolanda was like my sister, we were practically joined at the hip since we were 8 years old. She's happily married to her husband Carlos and have two adorable twin girls who are my godchildren: Hayden and Harmony. They love their Tia Ava, and those two little girls are my life and I treat them like they were my own, considering I don't have any children. And Blake, my openly gay friend, was always great at cheering me up. He always knew how to make me laugh. He's charming, sassy, and loves to party. Blake's also such a helpless romantic, always wanting to see happy couples. Which is how he won the heart of his current partner Damian. Although a lot of people don't approve of their relationship, I'm always glad to see my best friend in love. I loved them both to death.

"Hey beautiful," Yolanda greeted me with a smile and a hug. Her wavy black hair in a neat bun and her brown eyes shimmered in glee upon seeing me. "How's your morning going, mami?"

I returned her hug and gave her a slight grin: "I'm good love," I said. "Just had a little spat with Jason before I left."

Blake rolled his eyes before he scoffed. His normally cheerful, sassy demeanor now held a sense of annoyance, his jade green eyes flaring in anger. "Honey, when are you gonna leave his trifling ass? I hate seeing you come into work like you're on the brink of tears."

I winced at his words.

"Blake that's harsh," Yolanda scolded.

"No," I said. "It's okay. I've been asking myself that same question. And my answer is still the same: I have no clue. It's obvious that were no good for each other, but yet neither of us have left yet. Well, Jason checked out a long time ago but… I just don't know why he treats me this way. He looks at me like I disgust him, but yet he acts like he can't live without me."

I could feel the tears form again before Blake hugged me. "Don't cry Ava," he soothed. "I didn't mean to be rude; you know I just want the best for you. You're sweet, passionate, and you deserve someone who can give you the same love you give him." He kissed the crown of my head. "I just really want to kick his ass for you," he mumbled under his breath.

I giggled then wiped my tears. "As much as I would enjoy to see that, I don't want you going to jail for that bastard."

"For you I would," Blake cooed.

Yolanda gave a sympathetic smile before she spoke again: "Oh Ava, I almost forgot to tell you. We have a new client. He specifically asked for your services. Come on, I placed his file in your office."

My spirits lifted and my excitement grew. I loved receiving new clients, and it's flattering when they ask for me specifically. I eagerly followed Yolanda to my office, with Blake in tow, to see a big brown folder sitting on my desk. I sat down in my chair and Yolanda and Blake stood on either side of me as I observed the contents of our new client.

"His name is Alastor Montez," Yolanda said. "He distributes his own line of cigars and wine from California to numerous major cities in the western U.S. He moved to Florida about a year ago, and so many people are looking to buy his products. The man has built himself a large, successful empire and is looking to expand his business to the East Coast."

"And he's also been named Miami's Hottest Bachelor," Blake said with a wink and a bite of his lip. "Mmm I can tell, that man is so damn fine it's sinful."

"Honestly I agree," Yolanda chimed, a faint blush painting her face. "How can a man like him still be single?"

"If he ever wants to hang out, I'll be glad to show him a good time if you know what I mean," Blake said in a sultry tone.

Yolanda raised an amused eyebrow: "You think Damian will approve of that?"

Blake did a half shrug: "He can always join us," he said jokingly. "Damian is known to like an audience."

I shook my head at my friends and blew out a puff of air. "You guys are too damn much." I observed the profile picture that he provided at the top of the folder. Thick dark hair, bright hazel eyes, nicely tanned olive skin, and a smile that could blind you if you stare too long. He was attractive to look at, I will give them that. As I was observing his picture, something in my brain clicked. He looked… familiar.

"Alastor Montez," I whispered to myself. "Why does that name ring a bell to me?"

"Something wrong Ava?" Yolanda asked.

And then it hit me.

"I know him," I said matter-of-factly.

"Know who?" she asked.

"Him. Alastor. I remember him." I said. "He was an old friend of mine from college. We even went out for like a year and a half."

Blake and Yolanda were stunned.

"You dated him?" Yolanda asked.

"And you let him go?" Blake added. "Girl, you crazy as hell."

"It's all coming back to me now," I said. "I remember him being so charming, his ambition was through the roof, and I remember everyone loving him. Professors and students, both male and female. The chivalry was real with that one. He was always so sweet to me, buying me flowers for my birthday, showing me off to his friends, and girls being were so jealous to see me with him. I think that following summer I broke it off with him, and I barely started to hear from him. He would check in from time to time but the everyday chats ceased. And then once senior year started, all contact stopped completely. I thought it was for the best, but he was definitely such a gentleman to me."

"Like I said," Blake snorted. "You let him go why?"

I thought about it again then shrugged. "Honestly, I have no idea. Maybe I thought he was too much out of my league. Or I couldn't take the taunting I would get from the other girls on campus. Who knows?"

"And he specifically wants you to work marketing his brand?" Yolanda stated curiously.

Blake beamed at me. "It's a sign! I think he wants you back after you broke up with him."

I shook my head at my friend's response. "Yeah right," I said rolling my eyes. "Stop talking nonsense. That was like 8 years ago. Why would he still hold onto that? Plus, I'm married now remember?"

"Ugh don't remind us," Blake deadpanned. "That fucker Jason has cheated on you with how many bitches now? Why shouldn't you have a little love affair of your own?"

"Blake!" Yolanda yelled. 

"What 'Landa?" Blake scoffed. "I'm sure Jason wouldn't give a fuck."

"I appreciate the concern Blake," I chimed in. "But me cheating on Jason would make me just as bad as him. I wouldn't dare stoop to his level."

Blake gave a heavy sigh. "You're such a good woman, Ava. I just wish that you can see that you deserve better than him."

"I know you mean well honey," I said with a sad smile. "But I'll be okay. I promise." 

Yolanda spoke up again to break the tension in the room: "Alastor will be in tomorrow morning at 9AM to meet the team and discuss the details of how he wants to sell his products. Think you are up for the challenge, mami?"

I gave an ambitious glare towards her and smiled: "You know I love a good challenge. I'm looking forward to seeing him again."

"And I'm sure he's looking forward to seeing you again," Blake said with a grin.

"Watch it Blake," I warned.

Blake held up his hands in defense. "Okay I quit."

I did another glance at Alastor's picture before closing the file and following Yolanda and Blake out of my office. I feel this is gonna be interesting….

*Later that evening*

Following a successful workday, I managed to make my current client's product increase profit by 15% after she signed with me, and having dinner with Blake and Yolanda I walked into an empty condo, with the only light coming in from the bedroom.

"Jason?" I called out. "Honey, I'm home."

Upon hearing no answer, I could feel my heart drop into my stomach. Every time he stays out this late, I know he's with another woman. He's probably with that Rosalyn bitch. She seems to be his favorite out of all his "friends." I caught him with her trashy perfume on his shirt and one of her earrings in his pocket the last time he went out. He always denies that he's not seeing her anymore, but I'm not stupid.

I deeply sighed as I placed my purse and work bag down. Maybe Jason won't do anything this time, but Lord knows I'm only kidding myself. I walked into our shared bedroom, took off my heels, and let down my hair. I went through my drawer and pulled out a light pink silk nightgown. Yolanda picked it out for me, saying it would look good on me. Maybe I can surprise Jason when he gets home, get a little sexy for him. I smiled at the thought before I went into the bathroom. I turned on the hot water of the walk-in shower before I undressed and stepped inside. The hot water felt good against my skin, letting it run through my hair as well. I grabbed my soap and lathered it on my washcloth, scrubbing my neck and shoulders, my arms and armpits, and making my way down to my breasts, stomach and legs. I let my fingers roam the soapy exterior of my body, gently brushing my neck, breasts and stomach, relaxing in the heat coming from the hot water. The soap slid off my body in a steady flow and I threw my head back in content, enjoying every moment of my shower. I sighed in a state of bliss, closed my eyes, and tried to imagine Jason here in the shower with me, massaging my shoulders and kissing behind my neck. Sadly, it was hard to keep the thought in my mind and I gave up after a few moments. 

Feeling the water getting cold, I then grabbed the shampoo and deeply scrubbed my hair and followed up with a heavy amount of conditioner in my hair to help detangle it. I turned off the water before grabbing my towel to dry off my body and wrap my hair. I put on a pair of black lace panties and put on the nightgown. After I towel dried my hair, I took a detangling comb and combed through the tangles and knots of my hair, starting from the ends and making my way up to the roots. The conditioner sitting in made it easier to comb through, and I could see my bouncy dark curls start to take form again. I rinsed out the excess conditioner with a spray bottle of water before adding my moisturizer and towel drying it one more time. I side parted my hair and fluffed my curls, satisfied of my appearance. The nightgown hugged my curves beautifully, then I went to the bed to apply lotion to my skin, my natural glow starting to return. Afterwards, I went to the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine and a glass before heading back to our bedroom. I laid across the bed, freshly clean and feeling sexy, and settled with a book I was currently reading as I waited patiently for my husband to come home to me.

Hours went by and Jason still hasn't come home yet. I already finished my novel and the entire bottle of wine before I checked the clock; it was almost 1:00 a.m. A lump formed in my throat and I felt my eyes prickle with tears. I have to be at work in the morning and I couldn't stay up for him any longer. I set my book aside, picked up my empty wine bottle and glass and headed to the kitchen. I was placing the wine bottle in the recycling bin and my glass in the sink when I heard the front door open. Jason stumbled in giggling to himself and his clothes and hair were a bit disheveled. He was walking towards our bedroom when he locked eyes with me standing in the kitchen. His smile quickly vanished upon seeing me.

"Ava," he said flatly. "I thought you went to bed by now."

"I wanted to wait until you got home," I responded.

Jason rolled his eyes in annoyance. "I told you that you didn't have to. Also, what the hell are you wearing?" he asked as he looked me up and down. 

"Do you like it?" I asked innocently. "I wore it for you. Yolanda said you might like it."

Jason laughed mockingly at me. "You gotta stop listening to Yolanda. Listen, I'm about to go take a shower. It's nice that you waited up for me but you can go to bed now."

I followed Jason back to the bedroom to find him sitting on the bed taking off his shoes and tossing them in the corner. I climbed behind him and massaged his shoulders before kissing his cheek.

"I missed you today," I cooed but he said nothing. "Did you have a good day at work today?" Again, nothing. I wrapped my arms around his neck and nuzzled my nose into his neck. Then, all of a sudden, my nose twitched up at the scent on his clothes. I took another inhale and I smelled the familiar trashy perfume. I also saw a small bruise on his neck, more than likely a hickey. My anger boiled and I gritted my teeth.

"You were with her tonight were you?" I said trying to keep my cool.

Jason looked over his shoulder. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Don't play stupid with me. I can smell her on your shirt. Only she wears this disgusting perfume. Plus explain the fucking hickey on your neck."

Jason stood up from to get some distance from me. "Look Ava I don't know what you're thinking but…"

I cut him off, my anger spilling over. "You said you weren't seeing her anymore! God Jason, you fucking promised me!"

"It was just a few drinks! Jesus Ava, you're so damn paranoid."

"I'm paranoid?! You coming home smelling like the bitch and a mark on your neck makes me paranoid?"

"Stop calling her that," Jason warned.

I scoffed. "So you care about what I call your little whore? Goddamn it Jason, I don't know why I put up with you! One minute you love me and the next minute you can't stand to even look at me. I'm your wife Jason! I'm supposed to be the number one woman in your life!"

Jason crossed his arms and locked eyes with me. "Well if you feel that way, then why don't you leave?"

"I…" I started to answer but then I went silent. My eyes downcasted to a spot on the bed.

"That's what I thought," Jason said smugly. "You always threaten to leave me Ava, but you never do. You always end up coming back to me, giving me another chance. It's pretty sad, if you ask me."

A tear fell down from my cheek and I clenched my jaw. "Well why are you still here, then?"

Jason shrugged. "Because you actually are a great wife as far as cooking my meals and cleaning the house. Rosalyn, I mean, she's great in bed but she's a shitty cook."

I glared angrily at him. "So I'm just a maid to you?"

"Ava, don't act like this is new to you. I haven't touched you in months. We haven't had sex in God knows how long. The spark is just gone from us."

"Well, what can I do to change that?" I asked him, almost begging. "What can I do to make you love me again?!"

Jason walked up to me and tilted my chin upward to get closer to my face. "It's a little too late for that, babe. You're just not good enough for me anymore."

He let go of my face and proceeded to go into the bathroom. He shut the door behind him, leaving me sitting in shock on the bed. The sting of his words pierced through my heart and I sobbed quietly to myself. I curled myself into my pillow, feeling foolish and heartbroken, and continued to cry until I fell asleep.

Tag List: @sirenascales @masked--empress @evilangel84 @wwevampireamongkpop @queen-legacy-productions @defenseofourdreams6277 @neversatisfiedgirlfics @superrezzy00 @writing-reigns and anyone else who wants to read it!

[uniquecreations]

“Workplace Lover” Pt. 1

I was working for this inventory company for a few months when I was promoted to inventory manager. I was assigned to certain stores and pretty much had my team together when they decided to hire a bunch of people. The downside to having new people on my team was the pace slowed down due to me training them. No matter in what company you may work for when you get promoted there are going to be haters and people just downright salty because they didn’t get the position. Either way, I was happy but my love life sucked monkey balls, I couldn’t find a man to save my life. I take part to blame in that because of the insecurities that I dealt with at the time.

  I got up for work this particular morning feeling awful, I went out the night before, got in at around 2:30 am and had to get up at 6 am for work. (Wasn’t one of my best choices.) When I made it to the pick-up spot my team was looking defeated as well, so I knew this was going to be a long day. I went and got all the equipment together and loaded it into one of the vans to leave. The new people showed up shortly afterward and we were ready to hit the road. I had this one friend Ron (straight guy) that I always shot the shit with every day. He would always seem to make the day easy for me by doing stupid shit that just hyped up all of us.

  We made to the job site and began working, I had about 5 out of the 8 new people that no matter what I did, they just couldn’t seem to catch on to add and subtract. In the ones that I was going to definitely keep, there was this one guy named Alton, he was brown skin, had dreads, a deep voice, and a gorgeous smile. He was the most impressive, not just because he was sexy but because he actually took direction well. Once I showed him what to do, it was only a few times he came to me for something after that.

  On our lunch break, I was eating at a nearby food joint with my homie Ron when Alton and a few other people walked in. I was so engulfed in Alton’s looks and the way he walked that I was totally ignoring Ron.

  “Nigga, did you hear me?” He said throwing a fry at me.

  “No, my bad what did you say?” I said embarrassed.

  “I said that since we off tomorrow we should go to the Daquiri Café and get fucked up.”

  “I don’t know about that, I had enough to drink last night to last me the rest of the year.” I said laughing.

  “Punk ass, come on man join ya boy and live a little.” He said pleading, and after a lil back and forth I finally agreed. He was right tho, he would ask me to go out with him and his girl all the time, but I always found an excuse not to go.

  “Aye, can I join yall?” Alton said approaching us with his food on his tray.

  “Sure,” I said looking at the food on his tray. “You sure you can eat all that before it’s time to go back?”

  “Probably but if I can’t then I will just pack this shit up and take it home.” He said after sitting down, we all shared a laugh together and spent the rest of our break getting to know our new team member.

  We finally got thru the day, to say I was beyond tired was an understatement. I already sent a van full of people home and the only people left was the audit team. We made sure all the counts were accounted for as well as correct any mistakes that were made. This process could take anywhere from 30 mins to 4 hours depending on the corrections that needed to be made. Ron and Alton stayed back to help with this process and that made it easier for me because they kept me laughing.

  “So, Alton since you apart of our team now, and since we all have the same schedule…... I was thinking that you should join Jaye and me at the Daquiri Café tonight for some drinks and bitches.” Ron said.

  “I don’t know about the bitches’ part because as you and I both know yo girl will kick both of us in the dick if she finds out.” I said laughing.

  “I’m game, I wasn’t doing shit tonight anyway.” Alton said. I wasn’t too sure about this because even though Ron knew I was gay, I didn’t like to hang around new people who didn’t know about my lifestyle. That could turn out really bad or just make it awkward while working.

  “Cool, they have two we can choose from but since Jaye is technically our boss I vote he choose which one we go to,” Ron said smirking.

  “I can’t fucking stand you and I’m not your boss, I’m only your supervisor while we work in the stores, I can’t fire or hire nobody just write you up and make a recommendation for your termination that’s it.” I said laughing.

  “Stop lying nigga, I looked at your computer earlier and I saw that you got rid of some of the people that came today.”

  “Shut up, that’s private information and while in training and since I’m still the lead trainer I do get to say who stays and who goes but I had to get rid of them because they just…… I don’t know maybe someone else can help them, but I can’t anymore.”

  “So, was I on that list of people? I mean just keep it real.” Alton said with a nervous look on his face and I smirked.

  “No, you weren’t if that was the case you wouldn’t be here right now…… enough of all this bullshit talk I need yall to go look for these sections that haven’t come in yet.” I said hanging them the list of things I needed to be checked.

  After making it home I was beyond tired, all I wanted to do was lay down in my bed and sleep until the following week. That was short lived because just when the sleep was getting good my phone started ringing. I grabbed it to see it was my boos calling.

  “Hey, I need some information about the people you switched and the ones you wanna keep.” She said after I picked up the phone.

  “The ones I wanna keep had absolutely no problem catching on to the work but the other five were just horrible at taking direction. I didn’t suggest that they should be fired I just wanted them to go to Bobbi or Angie team because they work in smaller stores and they can focus more on them than I could.”

  “Ok, we can do that but just for future references…... don’t involve me in your crap, you have every right to assign whomever you want to any team if you feel like they would be an asset to that team. Oh, and you did an amazing job today, I got nothing but good reports from the district manager.”

  “Tell me something new but I will talk to you later I have some things to take care of.”

  “Ok see you on Monday.” She said hanging up the phone. I looked at the time and realized that it was almost time to go meet up with Ron and Alton down the street at the Daquiri Café. I went took a shower and pulled out some clothes, no sooner than I got dressed Ron called my phone.

  “Damn can I put some draws on before you get to rushing me out the house?” I said laughing.

  “Nigga you should have been had yo shit on……. I’m outside so bring yo ass and open the door.” He said hanging up, I threw on some socks and went to open the door before I had to kick his ass. “You never on time for nothing nigga, you were late for work this morning, and now you just now getting dressed.”

  “If you going to be bitching all night then you can beat ya feet motherfucker.” I said walking back to my room, while walking I got hit in the back with a pillow off the couch. “You better stop before I whoop yo ass and put my shit back in the right spot too.”

  I walked into my room tempted to just say fuck it and call it a night, but I made a promise and I was going to keep it. I walked out the room to find that this nigga took all my pillows off my couch and tossed them on the floor. This nigga always doing stupid shit when he come over here, like the last time he came over here he put dish soap in my fish tank which killed all my damn fish. He did buy me some more but it’s stupid shit like that that works my nerves with him. I didn’t say nothing to him, I just walked into the kitchen and filled up a pot with hot water and walked back into the living room.

  “Yo you better not throw that shit on me.” He said holding up one of the pillows.

  “You got 30 seconds to fix my couch you jackass.” I said still holding the pot, he quickly put all the pillows back on my couch and I started laughing.

  “You never play fair tho Jaye, why would you wanna throw hot ass water on me before we go out that shit foul man.” He said laughing.

  “Because you always doing stupid shit, that’s why I’ma stop you from coming over here.” I said walking to the door.

  “Whatever let’s go that nigga probably already waiting on us.”

  “Ok but you driving because I’m still tired.”

  We made our way to the Daquiri Café in no time at all because as I said earlier it was literally down the street from my house. When we walked in I spotted Alton sitting at the bar, I thought he was sexy earlier but now that I see him in regular clothes…… this nigga is drop dead gorgeous. I had no idea how I was going to get thru this evening without staring at him the whole night. We walked up to the bar where he was sitting and sat down, Alton turned his head and looked in our direction.

  “About time yall showed up, I thought yall flaked out on me.” He said laughing.

  “No, but there is something you should know about our boss here……. His ass always late to everything. I got over to his house and his ass wasn’t even dressed yet.” Ron said laughing.

  “Well unlike you two bastards I had more work to do when I got home and plus I was still tired from last night. Yall lucky I’m even here right now.” I said flagging down the bartender. We all placed our order and sat there just talking like we had been friends for ever.

  “So how long you been doing Inventory?” Alton asked me.

  “For about a year now, it wasn’t my first choice but when I was offered the job, they gave me an offer that I couldn’t refuse.” I said sipping from my cup. “Overall, it’s been good, but I don’t think I wanna make a career out of it like Doris and Linda, but it pays the bills and leave me with extra in my pocket.”

  “Cool, this is new to me I’m used to working fast food or doing lil odd jobs from temp services.”

  “You have great work ethics, unlike some people I know.” I said looking at Ron.

  “Aye fuck you nigga I’m the best person you have on your team so miss me with the bullshit or I’ma have to beat yo ass.”

  “The only thing you can beat is yo meat nigga, don’t start your bullshit.” I said and we all bust out laughing.

  “How long yall been cool? It seems like yall brothers or something.” Alton asked and the way he said ‘something’ didn’t sit right with me but I wasn’t going to think on it too much.

  “Before my promotion we worked a few jobs together, he has been a thorn in my side ever since.”

  “Yea right nigga, but Jaye is a down right cool as dude, he will do whatever he can to help anyone just as long as they trying to do shit for themselves.”

  “That’s what’s up, but let’s go get a game of pool in and get this shit crunk.”

  We played pool, got some food, had more drinks than I wanted to have, and had a damn good time just shooting the shit. The night was going good until Ron got a call from his girl and what ever they talked about had him in a sour mood for a bit.

  “What’s going on Ron?” I asked him.

  “She pissed off at me because in her words she never gets to see me until I’m horny or whenever I make time but that’s a lie because I was with her before I came to get you and she knew that we were hanging tonight.”

  “Ok well let’s cut this night short and you go fix things with your girl because I don’t have time for her kicking both our ass.”

  “Man fuck that, she will be just fine, I’m not about to keep catering to her bullshit every time she gets in one her moods.” He said ordering another round of drinks.

  “You not gone learn until that girl murder yo ass but its your shot.” I said picking up my pool cue.

  The night went on and we cut the drinks off because Alton looked drunk as hell and Ron was getting there. I had an extra room at my house, but I wasn’t to sure about letting either one of them sleep over. Ron wasn’t going to stay any way if push came to shove, he was going to call his girl to come get him and I take his car home, but Alton I knew nothing about so that was a definite no on his part.

  “If this bitch sends me one more text, I’ma go over there and throw her phone in the middle of the street.” Ron said showing me all the text messages between him and her. I scrolled up reading the messages, but I went to far up and saw some pictures they sent each other. Let’s just say I see why she so paranoid because Ron had some serious meat down there.

  “Umm…... just drop me off at the house and you go be with your girl bruh.” I said reluctantly giving him his phone back.

  “I’m not ready to go and if you don’t wanna leave right now I can bring you home and let this nigga go get his shit together.” Alton said catching me off guard.

  “Jaye don’t like people knowing where he stays so we can just do this some other time.” Ron said drinking the last of his drink.

  “Nah it’s cool bruh, you go take care of that and call me later.” I said dapping him up.

  Ron left us at the Café while he went to go make sure his girl was good, no matter what I did I couldn’t shake the image of his dick out my head. It was the prettiest dick I had seen in a very long time, I know I shouldn’t have kept thinking about it, but I couldn’t help it.

  “You ready to go.” Alton said bringing me out of my thoughts.

  “Umm yea…... but can you drive because I don’t wanna spend the rest of my night laid up in a hospital room.” I said laughing.

  “Yea I got you, I aint that messed up.” He said laughing.

  We left out and made it to my house in one piece, I thought about it and there was no way I was going to let this dude drive home drunk. I told him that he could crash on the couch and leave in the morning when he woke up. I went into my room to get him an extra cover and some shorts to sleep in, when I went back into the living room this nigga had kicked off his shoes and was laying on the couch watching tv.

  “I got you a cover and some shorts to sleep in, there is food and drinks in the fridge as well, just don’t touch my cokes.” I said placing the stuff on the couch.

  “Or you can go get comfortable as well and pour us some more drinks, I know you got liquor in here.” He said smirking, against my better judgement I went and threw on some night clothes and walked back into the living room. He had changed into the shorts I gave him, but he didn’t have a shirt on, his body was on point and I was stuck in one spot staring at him. “What you looking at nigga?” he said laughing, I hung my down in embarrassment and walked into the kitchen. I poured us some drinks and walked in the living room.

  “Umm you need a shirt to put on?” I asked after handing him his drink.

  “Nah, I don’t like sleeping in shirts I feel like I’m being suffocated.” He said laughing.

  We started drinking and watching tv for a while, I looked at the time and it was now 3 in the morning. I stood up and staggered a lil bit from the drinks I consumed. I shook off the feelings, looked at his body one last time and started to walk to my room before he stopped me.

  “If you wanna look you don’t have sneak just look.” He said smiling. I was taken back by his comment, it caught me off guard to the point where I ran right into the wall.

  “You aint all that nigga but goodnight I’m going to bed.”

  “I guess weakling.” He said laughing.

  “Unlike you, I didn’t get much rest last night or when I got off so excuse me if I’m tired, now go to bed before I punch you in the face.” I said laughing.

  “Don’t get fucked up, but I hear ya take yo tired ass to bed.” I didn’t bother saying nothing back I just went to my room and laid across my bed.

  The thoughts of Ron’s dick flashed back to my mind as well as the comment that Alton made. Maybe I was drunk and overthinking things, but it sounded like he was flirting with me. the more I thought about it the more I had to find out what he meant by that comment. I got up and walked back into the living room where he was still finishing off the last of his drink.

  “What did you mean by the comment you made a few minutes ago?” I asked him standing in the door way.

  “Man, what yo drunk ass talking about?” He said laughing.

  “About me staring at your body.”

  “Oh, I meant that I noticed you staring at me a few times but when you saw me you tried to act like you wasn’t, so I said that if you wanted to look at me then just do it.” He said still laughing.

  “Whatever, I look at what I want and who I want so what’s it to you?”

  “It’s nothing to me, but I thought you was going to bed?”

  “I am why you wanna join me?” I said and almost slapped the hell out myself for saying that shit.

  “You probably would like that wouldn’t you?” He said laughing.

  “Whatever, goodnight Alton.” I said walking back to my room.

  I turned on my tv and laid under the covers, I couldn’t believe that I actually said that stupid shit to this dude. He didn’t go off on me but still I never said nothing like that to a straight guy before so that alone made me feel dumb as hell. I closed my eyes and began to fall asleep, a few seconds afterwards I heard my door open. When I opened my eyes, Alton was walking towards me, he didn’t say anything, he just walked to my bed and climbed in. before I could ask him what the hell he was doing he pressed his lips to mine and all rationality went out the window. Was this really happening? What am I thinking right now? How would this affect us at work? All these things went thru my mind, but my body had another mind of it’s on.

©unique creations 2018

[initiala]

could you possibly do another smut fic with killian having sex with a guy? Or maybe a threesome fic with him and emma and a nameless guy?

I have a secret hard-on for Captain Hood. In fact, this is something that @idoltina and I texted about for like a week last year and we each went “I’m not writing it, you’re writing it” for at least two days but now I guess I’m writing it. Who’s up for a college sports AU?

(anyway this is my first actual real slash fic, be kind for I only know what not to do. many thanks to @bookstoreromantic​ for giving this a once over and telling me how soccer works)

It felt like they’d known one another forever. They moved together on the field with ease, passing without thinking, sensing where the other was – just knowing they would be there with the assist. They stayed up late in the common area, going over plays and devising new ones, finishing each other’s thoughts late into the evening until someone inevitably reminded them about morning drills and the need for sleep. When one had a bad day, the other knew and was often the first to drag him out for a pint and some mindless entertainment to cheer him up. They had similar pre-game rituals, sat next to each other on roadies, and their teammates were surprised when one was seen without the other. They laughed and took the piss out of each other like the oldest of mates, but Killian and Robin had only been playing together since their first year at uni – sorry, freshman year.

(Killian still had some trouble wrapping his mind around the linguistic differences between American and British English. At least he’d known better than to ask to borrow someone’s rubber in the middle of class.)

Regardless, he’d certainly heard of Robin Locksley before decamping to America and Robin had heard of Killian Jones; the amateur competitive football world was small back home and everyone knew who was being scouted by the leagues and by the universities. Locksley was good, a striker with the makings of an excellent skipper one day. They’d never played against one another, but everyone kept tabs on the big names.

(No one had ever thought to mention how ruddy fit Locksley was. Oh, he’d noticed at first – beautiful people drew his eye in that way – but he’d had a few other dalliances before realizing just how bloody fucked he was when it came to Robin Locksley. It was during a rain delay that Killian had realized he was absolutely fucked when it came to Robin. They’d gotten caught in a downpour during warm-up drills and everyone had gotten soaked through, but Killian had zeroed in on how Robin’s kit clung to his well-defined muscles and the water ran down his chiseled jaw and bloody fuck he was well and truly fucked.. He’d also decided then that an artist should capture Rob’s beauty in marble, like the Greeks. Though it wouldn’t capture the way the sun glinted off his hair and made it shine, or the way his cheeks dimpled when he laughed, or the cold fury in his eyes when another player committed an unnecessary slide tackle and injured one of their teammates.)

The fact that they’d both been scouted for this small university’s football team – rather, soccer, as the Americans stubbornly continued calling it – just happened to be a twist of fate.

A rather cruel one, if he was going to be melodramatic about it – which he was apparently rather adept at, according to Swan.

Swan was his roommate, a lacrosse player with a mean right hook, a passion for grilled cheese, an old Volkswagen Beetle that he was constantly trying to keep running for her, and a penchant for throwing her pre-law books at him when he was in one of his “melodramatic moods”. And yes, Emma Swan was a girl – woman, as she and her friend Snow were fond of reminding him.

The university’s rather liberal policy of gender neutral residence halls had ended up quite in his favor, despite the book-throwing. While even he could admit that Swan was a striking example of womanhood, his tastes ran more towards the men. And sharing a room with another man had always run hit-or-miss for him in the past. Swan hadn’t even batted an eye that first year, offhandedly mentioned an ex-girlfriend named Lily, and then asked if his practice schedule was as grueling as hers.

They’d been the best of friends ever since.

“If I have to hear you sigh over Robin’s quads one more time, I’m banishing you to the lounge for the night,” she grumbled, highlighting something in a textbook.

“They’re just so–”

“Perfect, so I’ve heard. Just ask him out already.”

“I had to wait fifteen minutes before I could shower,” Killian said, flopping back on the futon with one of his lit texts. “Bloody git took forever.”

“Scandalous,” she remarked, her voice dry. “Can’t even shower together. Oh wait, yes you can, because half the LAX team is gay and we have no problem.”

“Women don’t have knobs, bit different,” he retorted.

He could practically hear her rolling her eyes. “There is nothing sexy about a locker room, Jones. Quit being a – a, what is it you always call Will?”

“Bellend,” he deadpanned.

“Right, that. Stop being a bellend and just say something. And don’t give me another speech about ruining the team ‘vibes’.” She actually used air quotes, the sarcasm dripping from her tongue. “If nothing else, you have to learn to keep personal shit off the playing field. Or use it as fuel during a game.”

Killian sighed, resting his book on his face. She was right, he knew she was right, but when it came to actually admitting his own feelings, he was the biggest chickenshit – one of Swan’s delightful Americanisms that had rubbed off on him.

He just didn’t know how Rob would react.

It wasn’t as if his teammates didn’t know about his sexuality; as Swan had said, coming out to his mates hadn’t ruined any of the team’s closeness. Locksley had clapped his shoulder, thanked him for his trust and honesty, and assured him that the team would do their best to return that trust and honesty.

Well, that was all very well and good when stating a general interest in men and women, but in Killian’s experience, men who had no interest in other men tended to react… poorly.

To put it mildly.

“Rob’s not like that.” Swan’s quiet voice broke through his thoughts.

“What, are you a mind reader now, love?”

She snorted. “No, that’s you. I just recognize that silence.”

“Come here.”

She did, dragging her textbook with her and settling against his side on the futon. She could be a pain in his arse sometimes, but she also knew the value of physical contact; he was, admittedly, more free in his general affection towards friends, but he counted himself lucky to be one of the small handful of people that Swan regularly showed any sort of affection towards.

“I’ll bring it up tomorrow,” Killian said quietly.

Swan made a noise as if she didn’t entirely believe him, and truth be told he didn’t entirely believe himself, but it was said and it would be enough for her to hold him to it. “I have a test tomorrow,” she told him, settling more comfortably into the crook of his arm.

He breathed a laugh and pulled her in closer, picking his own book back up to get some reading done before he was too inconsolable to think of studying.

Perhaps Swan was right about his inclination towards the melodramatic.

His body may have been at practice, but his head clearly wasn’t. He was passable at drills, but he was easily distracted during the scrimmage and it did not go unnoticed.

“Jones,” Robin called.

His skip’s voice cut through the locker room chatter. Killian paused only after securing a towel around his own hips, ready to half-drown himself in the showers after that abysmal practice. “Aye, mate?”

Robin made his way through their teammates, giving Killian a critical once-over before speaking. “You alright?” he asked, dropping his voice now.

Killian glanced up, then away, irritated at himself for a multitude of reasons now. “Aye. Long night. Sorry, skip, I’ll get right tomorrow.”

Robin was silent for a moment, then reached out and clapped Killian’s shoulder. Killian had to fight the urge to lean into it, to show how the familiar gesture affected him as he stood there half-naked in the bloody locker room. “Shower up, we’ll go for a pint and a chat,” Robin ordered and turned before it could be argued.

Killian stared after his friend’s retreating back, taking a long moment to compose himself and adjust the towel a bit before grabbing his caddy and stalking off to the showers.

The hot water and soap didn’t make him feel anything other than clean of sweat and grass stains. Try as he might, letting the water beat against his skin did nothing to relieve the guilt of giving less than his best or the anxiety gnawing at his gut at the conversation to come.

After he dressed, he went out into the hall to find Robin waiting for him. Wordlessly, they fell into step together, practice bags slung over their shoulders and hands shoved into their pockets. He followed Robin’s lead as they left the training facility and went down the street to their favorite dive bar – fairly empty at this hour, which would make Robin’s scolding easier to hear.

They ordered, and after the waitress brought their pints, they each took a long drink as Robin regarded Killian thoughtfully over the rim. “So,” he said, setting his glass down. “Something’s eating at you. And don’t give me any nonsense about everything being fine or I’ll go talk to Emma and she’ll tell me what’s really going on with you.”

Killian winced, setting his own glass down. Swan absolutely would, if for no other reason than she was an abysmal liar. “That’s a low blow, Locksley.”

“Aye, but you’re a right stubborn bastard when you put your mind to it, so my hand is forced. You’ve never played so badly, not in all the years I’ve known you. Even after the mess with that lass Milah and then your disastrous rebound with Jefferson.”

Those had been easier to handle – after Milah left, there had been nothing for him but throwing himself into the game, leaving everything on the pitch until he was spent, an empty shell left for Swan to care for, making sure he ate and had a decent night’s rest. Jefferson had been an angry affair, both of them lost and angry and winding up hurting the other more. But it had only led to more fuel, something like a dam breaking in Killian’s soul that flooded his body with pain and rage and powering his game until he was left with only quiet and acceptance inside.

But this, this situation held more at stake.

Swan’s voice was in his head, telling him she’d hold him to his statement yesterday, but he reasoned that if such a confession went poorly he would have nowhere to turn. He’d left his feelings out on the pitch after Milah, after Jefferson, but the pitch was where Robin was. Robin was his friend, his teammate, his skipper.

Robin kept things grounded with the rest of Killian’s world had fallen apart.

Killian took a long pull from his glass, stalling for time. Thankfully, their food arrived, and both young men were too well-mannered to talk and eat at the same time – Robin’s family descended from some stuffy upper class lot, Killian’s mum drilling the mantra of “manners maketh man” into his head as a lad. During a lull, he finally said, “All twisted around about someone, s’all.”

His burger sat heavy like lead in his stomach, watching Robin’s face. Robin’s eyebrow lifted. “Enough to ruin your football? Don’t tell me it’s Emma.”

Killian tried not to laugh. Swan was gorgeous, but it wasn’t meant to be. “Roommates are off-limits, remember? Or have you and Regina started sharing a bed as well as a room?”

Robin’s cheeks pinked and he stabbed a chip into the ketchup. “I should bloody well think not… Very well then, who are they?”

His mouth felt dry, no matter how much of his beer he drank – indeed, he drained the glass and still felt parched. The waitress came and got him a refill and Killian stopped himself from guzzling it down lest he hurry along his buzz. He hardly thought a drunken confession of attraction would make things any better. “It’s… complicated,” he finally said. “Telling them, it would change a great many things that I’m loathe to give up.”

He met Robin’s gaze then, willing him to understand the words he wasn’t saying, but he knew it often took a straight answer for things to sink in. Robin’s blank look confirmed that. Killian swallowed hard, then said, “I value our friendship too much, Rob, to allow my personal feelings to get in the way if it makes you uncomfortable. I apologize if this admission alters the way you think of me –”

Robin’s eyes widened and Killian shut up fast; Robin was a good man, but he’d known plenty of men who turned on a dime at the thought of a man desiring them. “Bloody hell, me?” Killian’s mouth opened wordlessly, an icicle of fear slicing down his back as he tried to figure out whether he should run for it now or go down swinging. Robin blinked, shaking his head. “Well. I have to admit, Jones, this is a surprise, but I can’t say I’m not flattered.”

It was Killian’s turn to blink, his emotions a complete jumble. “You’re not…”

Robin met his gaze. “Killian, don’t be a tosser, I’m not upset.”

“Well, you don’t go shouting about your conquests in the locker room, so I couldn’t be sure if it would be received well or not.”

Robin grinned. “No, we’ll leave that to Will. As it happens, I suppose it’s never really mattered to me.”

“Oh.”

“Indeed.”

There was a long pause and Killian fought the urge to gulp half his beer to fill the silence. His fingers must have twitched towards his pint, though, because Robin started to grin. “So, is this a date, then, or should we do one proper another time?”

Killian stared, flabbergasted. “One - what? And two, are you seriously asking me out right now?”

“Well, you should probably be the one to do the asking, but you seem – for the first time in your life, I might add – at a loss for words.”

“Rob, don’t indulge me if you’re not serious about this.”

“Who says I’m not?”

“You’re being awfully flippant.”

“I’m not getting on one knee, if that’s what you want.”

Killian felt his ears burning and he wasn’t sure what the cause of it was: embarrassment or anger, possibly a mix of the two. “Look, just forget it,” he said, balling up his napkin and tossing it on the table. He dug in his back pocket for his wallet, trying to look anywhere but at Robin; but when Killian opened the tri-fold to look for cash, he stilled when Robin’s hand covered his.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and Killian looked up to see a soft, earnest look on his face that matched his voice. “I thought – well, occasionally humor helps to ease tension, and I see now that it was a mistake.”

“Too bloody right,” Killian muttered.

Robin’s hand was warm, an odd but nice mix of calluses and softness against his own skin. Killian called up every ounce of courage he had, then turned his hand over to clasp Robin’s. His friend looked surprised at the gesture, perhaps a little unsure of how to handle it, but seemed neither disgusted nor displeased. “We’ve got a match Saturday afternoon, but how about after dinner we ditch the team and take in a movie?”

There were normally team dinners after matches, so it made sense – no need to alert anyone of anything new developing. And Killian and Robin normally went out after matches, though normally with Emma or Regina and their friends (they’d agreed that both of their roommates were useful in separate situations: Emma might not be a wild party girl but her LAX teammates knew how to celebrate a victory, while Regina and her group knew the perfect way to drown out any anger at a loss)

“Alright,” Killian said. Then, feeling bolder and remembering Robin’s remark about humor, added, “Though just so you know, I don’t put out on the first date.”

Robin blinked and Killian thought his joke may have missed the mark, then Rob started to laugh. “You’re probably a bloody awful kisser anyway.”

He thought about proving him wrong right then and there – he’d received approximately zero complaints about his technique, thank you very much – but in all honesty Killian was too busy trying to hide the fact that he was now very much staring at Robin’s mouth, wondering how he kissed and what the combined sensations of their beards might feel like.

Swan, bless her, did her best not to gloat when he told her what had happened later that night.

Though given the fact that he couldn’t stop grinning, he probably wouldn’t have minded a bit of gloating anyway.

Their style of play didn’t falter and Killian’s ability returned now that he was free of the stress of any difficult conversations. He’d been out with Robin before and though he fundamentally knew this was different, part of him wasn’t able to truly understand that this was a date and not just two friends out on the town. Perhaps that’s why he could keep his head on straight over the next few days, even managing to score a goal and assist on two others to help win the match on Saturday.

It wasn’t until after the team dinner that Robin caught his gaze and gave him a meaningful look.

That’s when the waves of butterflies hit.

They took Robin’s truck – Killian had never gotten the hang of driving on the wrong side of the road and happily allowed others to chauffeur him around – and headed out to the shopping mall on the far side of town. There was a theater there that gave student discounts. Knowing their teammates, no one would be out that way celebrating, and it wasn’t likely that they’d run into Emma (the LAX team was on a retreat for the weekend) or Regina (who had an organic chemistry exam on Monday and had threatened to set anyone who disturbed her on fire).

Killian had found that there was always an odd moment concerning who paid when on a date with a man, but it seemed that Robin had already thought of that. “You get tickets, I’ll buy snacks?” he asked as they jumped out of the truck.

“Sounds good to me.”

They wound up eating most of the popcorn halfway through previews, making snide comments to the other about trailers for this overblown blockbuster or that lackluster comedy. By the time the lights went out, Killian was feeling more relaxed, though it still felt decidedly more like friends hanging out rather than a date.

About forty-five minutes in, he decided to make it feel like a date.

It took another fifteen minutes to build the courage to do it, sneaking glances at the armrest that lay between them and Robin’s arm casually resting on it.

He felt Robin still when Killian took his hand, and almost withdrew, but then Robin’s fingers laced with his and Killian’s heart soared.

He couldn’t remember the rest of the movie if he tried.

They were quiet as they left, Robin’s hands casually tucked in his pockets. There weren’t many people leaving the theater at the same time, so Killian pretended to stumble, bumping their shoulders together and making Robin laugh. He nudged back and it turned into a little game, shoving one another until Robin finally just threw his arm around Killian’s shoulders. It was almost a headlock, and to anyone observing it would appear so, but he recognized it for what it was.

Maybe Robin understood the value of physical contact, too.

“So,” Robin said as he pulled up to Killian’s dorm a while later.

“Yeah.”

“That was nice.” Killian scoffed and Robin grinned. “Right, you have a better adjective?”

“I had a good time,” Killian said, his voice pitching high at the end, silently asking if Robin felt the same.

Robin smiled and reached over the center console to take Killian’s hand again. “I did too. Though perhaps next time we not dine with our teammates beforehand?”

“Is there a next time?”

“I’d like there to be.”

They stared at one another for a long moment until Killian smiled. “Alright. Next week?”

They had two more dates before the championship tournament hit, and Killian didn’t like to admit how it frustrated him to put whatever this was between them on hold for the sake of the game. At the same time, he knew it was more important to focus on winning, that there would be more time in the off-season, but he was frustrated all the same.

More because Robin seemed to hide behind his skipper mask, even when it was just the two of them discussing plays after a scrimmage.

He missed his friend. Or his… whatever this was.

They won the next game, solidifying their place in the quarterfinals, but only by the skin of their teeth. Everyone was frustrated after the game, Robin snapped at everyone in the locker room, and Killian’s own frustrations at his own poor play combined with his personal frustrations towards Robin. He managed to hold his tongue until everyone else had gone, finally lashing out, “It’s enough that we’re aware of our own mistakes, mate, there’s no need to be a prick to us all on top of it!”

“I’m skipper, Killian, it’s my damn job to be a prick when you all deserve it!”

“And whose job is it to put you in your place when you’re being an unjust prick?!”

“Not yours, that’s for certain! Take it up with the manager if you have a problem with my skipping!”

Killian fumed. “It’s not enough to know your team isn’t happy with their treatment? You stubborn arse, we selected you and we can damn well take that away. We know we won by the skin of our teeth, we know we need to do better next match, and trust me when I say we’re all going to be beating ourselves up over these mistakes until the next time we can go out there and prove we can do better than before.”

“It’s not enough,” Robin said, scowling.

“What should we do, Robin, become gods? Invest in a Time-Turner? Because the only way we can fix what already happened is to–”

Anything else he might have had to say was abruptly cut off, his ability to speak lost as Robin surged towards him, gripped his shoulders, and fused their mouths together.

If Killian had any lingering doubts about Robin’s intentions – if he was merely indulging Killian’s crush or humoring him so as not to cause any alienation or hurt feelings – they vanished. Hands moved slowly, from clutching to embracing, fingers tentatively twining in hair. They both were in need of a haircut, too superstitious about it at this stage in the game, but something deep and primal in Killian’s bones liked being able to twist his fingers through Robin’s hair as his tongue traced the seam of his lips and begged for entrance.

He hadn’t any expectations for what kissing Robin Locksley would be like, hadn’t allowed himself to think that far ahead or get his hopes up. But even in his wildest fantasies he couldn’t have imagined this – there was a soft urgency to his kiss, unsaid words pushed into actions and touches and the soft glide of their tongues, and Killian could feel Robin’s restraint, how much he was holding back, his inability to lose control in this moment and give in to the feeling.

He vowed to work on that.

Both were breathless when they parted, only enough to get air. Their foreheads touched and Killian almost chuckled when Robin’s mustache tickled his lip. He liked this – really liked this – the feeling of Robin’s arms around him and their bodies pressed chest to thigh. Though, he did try to angle his hips away, feeling his cheeks heat up as he realized Robin could surely feel his erection pressed against his thigh.

But if Killian wasn’t mistaken, and he’d bet a lot that he wasn’t, Robin wasn’t feeling very calm after that himself.

“Bad form,” Killian said finally, giving in and resting his head on Robin’s shoulder. It was a bit awkward, as Robin was actually a bit shorter, but he liked it anyway.

“Are you really commenting on my technique?” Robin asked, sounding both amused and exasperated.

“No,” Killian said with a laugh. “Bad form for shutting me up in the middle of a tirade. As for the actual kissing, that’s a solid eight out of ten.”

“I’m going to regret asking how one scores a perfect ten, aren’t I?”

Killian only grinned.

It was a hard loss.

The weeks leading up to the finals had been good ones. Robin had eased up a little, leaving any discipline discussions up to their manager and refocusing his energies on team morale. He’d confessed to Killian that part of his outburst had been fueled by his nerves about advancing their relationship.

Killian, in turn, was too stunned about Robin defining this as a real relationship to comment.

Little touches had helped. Lingering shoulder claps or gentle touches when they thought no one was looking. Spending time together after practices also helped; Swan knew enough that they could hang out in Killian’s room without much fuss, but Robin wasn’t sure about Regina’s reaction just yet. If anyone asked, they were studying together. If anyone took a closer look, they’d notice Killian’s hand on Robin’s thigh, or the casual way Robin’s arm slung around Killian’s shoulders.

Well, maybe one didn’t need to look too much closer.

Still, playing the last few matches with that kind of support, that kind of assurance, helped. They’d entered the final match with their heads held high – all of them, everyone on the team – but losing in the championship would sting regardless of their pre-game morale.

Losing 5-0 basically annihilated whatever morale they had left.

The team was slow to leave the locker room. Robin had no rousing speeches or kind words – in fact, he had no words at all. No one spoke, the silence dulled only by the steady hiss of the showers and punctuated by the occasional slam of a locker. Everyone trickled out in ones and twos, their heads decidedly less high than they’d been earlier that morning, until only Killian remained in the main room.

Sometimes he did this, lingering in the locker room, letting himself feel whatever emotions he felt after a match without worry that anyone would see. Today he sat with his head in his hands, going over every play in his mind and trying to find what he could have done differently, what plays they could have made instead.

He heard both Robin and Swan in his mind, telling him not to do this to himself, that he knew better.

Well, he did know better, but it was all he could bloody think about.

Disgusted with himself, Killian stripped off his grass-stained jersey and shorts, tossing his dirty uniform into a bag to be washed and grabbing his towel and shower things; everyone else would be back at the hotel by now and he’d join them later, but right now he had to wash off the stink of failure.

It appeared he wasn’t alone in thinking that.

He hadn’t noticed the water still running, but there was a lone occupant in the communal showers: Robin. Killian tried to think back to the last time he’d seen him and concluded that his boyfriend had probably been trying to literally drown his misery for at least three quarters of an hour.

Boyfriend. That was still strange.

Killian dropped his things in the partition, then stepped into the steam. “Rob.”

Robin turned slightly and Killian’s heart broke all over again at the self-loathing and anguish on his face. It mirrored his own feelings, but actually seeing it made him push them away and focus on trying to make Robin feel better. Or at least stop looking like he’d never feel happiness again.

As Killian went to hug him, it dimly registered that not only was this the first time in several years that he was seeing Robin naked, it was the first time they were even touching one another in an intimate way without clothes. And there was nothing sexy about it. And that was perfectly fine.

They didn’t speak, the water beating down on both of them and keeping them warm as Killian held Robin close; and it wasn’t as if he disliked the way that Robin clung to him, he just wished it were for any other reason than misery. And he really had no idea how to make it better.

“You’re going to prune,” he finally said, voice barely audible over the hiss of the water. Robin only nodded, tucking himself under Killian’s chin. “Did you wash at all?” This time Robin shook his head.

Well, that was easily taken care of. Killian eased back to grab his things, then set to work.

He always found value in casual displays of affection. Whether it was hugging friends or letting Swan sleep on his lap when they watched telly or now gently washing Robin’s hair, Killian knew that simple touch, simple gestures of care, warmth, and safety were so scarce these days that the extra effort was appreciated by anyone on the receiving end.

He raked his fingers through Robin’s hair, massaging the shampoo in and scrubbing out the sweat and lingering feelings of defeat. Robin’s eyes were closed and slowly his features relaxed, following Killian’s gentle lead to tip his head back under the spray to wash away the soap suds. Then came the body wash and Killian was hesitant as he lathered up his hands and spread them across Robin’s chest. It was then that Robin opened his eyes, meeting Killian’s hesitant gaze with his own. “Can you handle it?” Killian asked.

“Yes, I think so,” Robin said; it was hard to hear him over the sound of running water, his voice hoarse from shouting on the pitch and likely from the emotions that kept him shut away in his self-imposed confinement.

Killian nodded and stepped back, going to scrub his own hair while Robin got the soap.

He sighed as he stepped into the spray, scrubbing his fingers against his scalp and inwardly bemoaning the fact that he desperately needed a haircut. With finals coming up he’d be hard pressed to find time to get it done, though perhaps he’d ask if one of Swan’s teammates knew how to cut hair.

“Killian.”

He jerked up, wiping water out of his face as Robin took a step towards him. Their lips met and Killian grunted in surprise, hands automatically moving to cup Robin’s head and circle his waist. “Make me forget,” Robin whispered against his lips. “Make me feel good, Killian, please.”

His cock swelled at the words and nudged Robin’s. Killian swallowed hard, pulling back only enough to look his boyfriend in the eyes. “Are you sure?”

He didn’t want this to be something Robin regretted, this large of a step in their relationship brought on only by the urge to expunge negative feelings. But by God, did he want to.

Robin gave a small nod. “Yes.”

Killian surged forward, their lips crashing together and making Robin stumble back slightly. They turned so that Robin was practically pinned against the wall but for Killian’s hand reaching down to grip his ass. They both groaned, Robin’s hips jerking up as Killian kneaded and squeezed the firm muscle. Killian moved quickly, kissing a path down his jaw and gently biting the thick cords of Robin’s neck before reaching the juncture. He bit a little more hard, then sucked. Laving his tongue against the skin, desperate to mark him in some primal need to stake his claim, and squeezed Robin’s ass in time with his sucks. Killian pulled back with a slight popping sound, then dropped to his knees, ignoring the hard tile as his free hand traced the muscled lines of Robin’s stomach. Even over the water, Killian heard Robin suck in a breath when his hand reached his cock; glancing up, Killian saw he was being watched with an intense expression and hooded eyes. “You like this?” he asked, running gentle fingers over Robin’s cock before wrapping his hand around it.

He gave it an experimental pump, watching Robin’s eyes flutter shut and his head fall back against the wall. “Ah, ah,” Killian scolded, getting used to the feel of Robin’s cock and moving his hand in firm, even strokes. “Watch me.”

With that, Killian leaned forward and flicked his tongue against the head. He heard Robin groan as he tasted the salty precum leaking from the tip, then wrapped his lips around the head.

Robin’s hand fisted itself in Killian’s hair as he promptly put every other blowjob he’d ever given to shame. His tongue swirled around the head and traced the fat vein pulsing along the side of the shaft. Robin’s cries echoed through the room, his hips jerking in Killian’s hold and forcing his cock further down Killian’s throat. He only gagged the first time, not expecting it, but relaxed and tried to keep a stronger hold on Robin as he continued.

When one hand went to fondle Robin’s balls, that seemed to be the breaking point. Killian eagerly swallowed his release as Robin came with another shout, only wincing slightly as the hold on his hair tightened. Only when he’d licked the last of it away did Killian sit back on his haunches, looking up to see the results.

Robin slumped against the wall, head tilted back as he caught his breath. As his eyes opened, Killian grinned. “Get up here,” Robin practically growled, taking the offered hand and hauling him up.

Something had snapped in him; Killian felt it as Robin’s kisses became fiercer, more possessive. Killian groaned deep in his throat as Robin practically shoved him back against the wall, his mouth tracing a similar path that Killian’s had done earlier, though Robin paid attention to different areas of his body. Robin nibbled his ears before nipping his way down Killian’s neck; his hands weren’t idle either, running down Killian’s sides and kneading his ass in a decidedly greedy manner. Killian shuddered as Robin’s fingers danced along his thighs, wondering what it might feel like to be pinned to the wall and properly fucked – but that would have to be another time, when they were prepared and not trying to distract each other.

As he mused, Robin slowly dipped down, pausing briefly to pay attention to Killian’s nipples and nose through the thick, wet hair covering his chest. (One of the many things Killian appreciated was that Robin was nowhere near as hairy as he was; only one of them needed to be part-wolf.) His breath hitched as Robin ran his tongue along his abs, tracing a path down to Killian’s aching cock and wasting absolutely no time at all before wrapping his lips around the head.

Killian would have to take a moment later, when he wasn’t about to collapse from pleasure and when he wasn’t trying to contain screams, to appreciate that as both of them were uncircumcised, both knew exactly how to handle the other’s cock. It was a marvel, and one he would put into appreciative words.

Later.

Eventually.

When his boyfriend wasn’t going down on him so earnestly, one hand playing with his balls and the other teasing Killian’s ass and making him want to melt into a puddle of goo.

He tried so hard not to rut his hips, not to fuck Robin’s mouth, but God he couldn’t help it. He did his best to keep his thrusts shallow, but then the goddamn son of a bitch sucked hard and Killian’s body jerked involuntarily; he felt the head of his cock brush the back of Robin’s throat and almost came right then.

He decided to copy Robin’s earlier move and threaded his fingers through Robin’s hair; he silently urged him to move faster, desperate for more and half-wild from the need to come. Robin obliged, his tongue swirling and his teeth ever-so-slightly grazing along the shaft and Killian vaguely tasted blood from biting his lip too hard to keep from crying out.

He didn’t remember an orgasm that powerful before, his hips rutting and rutting into Robin’s willing mouth as he came down his throat. He sagged when it was over, when he was finally spent, and released Robin’s hair to let him up. Killian fell gratefully into Robin’s kiss, both of them more relaxed and their touches more tender, less frantic than before. “Water’s getting cold,” Robin said softly, cupping Killian’s face briefly before tracing the line of his jaw.

“Someone interrupted my wash,” Killian said, his weak joke earning a grin in response.

Robin ducked out first, letting Killian scrub himself, though he was a bit more reluctant to wash away the feeling of Robin’s lips over his body. It was a consolation to realize they could do it all over again another time, with more time and more preparation and less chance of someone walking in on them in a somewhat public locker room.

Nothing sexy about locker rooms, he thought, Swan’s words from several months ago coming to mind, we’ll see about that. He wasn’t one to kiss and tell, but he’d give a mild update to Swan when they returned.

Perhaps. Or perhaps he’d keep this new, warm feeling in his chest to himself for a while longer. His own private happiness to keep the demons of defeat away.

Or perhaps it was a private happiness to be shared by two people; Robin’s face when Killian went to change was a complete 180 from before, soft and with a glow that matched the one Killian felt.

They kept sneaking glances at each other as they dressed, smiling when their eyes met. When Killian’s head popped through the opening of his shirt, Robin was there, moving to gently cup the back of Killian’s head and touch their foreheads together. “Thank you,” he said softly.

“Anytime,” Killian replied. “Really.”

That made Robin laugh. “Next time let’s be a bit more private, though, eh?”

They slung their bags over their shoulders and Robin took Killian’s hand as they left the facility. Killian gave it a squeeze, a reassurance that it would be okay – and it would, they both knew it. Their shower dalliance bled away most of the poison but some of the sullenness would return.

But it would be okay. They had each other.

They’d be okay.