Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When the seventh emergency siren within an hour interrupts him mid sentence, Reece just groans and drops his head on the table with a thud.
They're in their London office, it's warm, it's humid and Reece wants someone to shoot him. Without lifting his head off the table he grumbles;
"I bloody hate London."
Steve doesn't have the energy to fight him on that, and more importantly, he bloody hates London too today. He rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands in the hope that that will clear the fog in his brain. It doesn't. The London smog has permeated his eyeballs, and his mind, and his entire being.
"Let's go up North then. Do some writing on a weekend away from all this."
Reece turns his head to look at him from where it’s still resting on the table, a calculating look in his eyes.
"Only if you deal with the logistics."
"Of course."

Steve picks Reece up in his car midmorning on Friday. He watches Reece put his stuff in the boot, before coming around to the passenger seat. He’s still holding a Sainsbury’s bag as he gets in.
"Did you bring snacks?"
"Naturally! Have some confidence in me!” He says, holding up the bright orange bag. “I even bought drinks."
"... Non alcoholic drinks?"
"Ah... No. Yes. Good point. I forgot about that."
"Great. So you're going to get very drunk while I drive us up to the cabin then?"
"Hm... Yeah probably." He grins at Steve.
"God, you're lucky you're cute."

"Steve. Steve. Steve. Steeeve."
Reece's words are slightly slurred as he twists in his seat, trying to get Steve's attention.
Steve just sighs.
"What do you want? I'm concentrating."
"Ugh, you've been saying that for 3 hours,” Reece complains, elongating the last word to emphasise the length of time.
"Yes. That's because I've been driving for over 3 hours, Reece. I'd rather not die today."
"You're boring."
Reece is 4 drinks in, and bored out of his mind. To his mildly intoxicated brain, the only way to overcome this boredom is by gently bullying the man next to him. And the easiest way to bully Steve is by getting him hot and bothered. It’s the easiest way for Reece anyway.
Without warning he slides his hand up Steve's inner thigh, stopping just short of his groin.
"Jesus fuck. Reece!"
Steve aggressively tries to correct the sharp pull he'd given the steering wheel.
"Give a man a warning."
"Nah, ‘snot as fun when you know it's going to happen. I'd rather keep it a surprise."
"I'd rather make it to the cabin in one piece."
"Then... Simply focus on the driving.” Reece says it like it’s the most logical thing in the world, and lets his hand ghost over Steve's crotch as he speaks.
"Easier said than done." Comes the reply through gritted teeth.

While Steve's eyes are decidedly on the road, Reece reaches over with both hands, so he can undo Steve's belt and trouser buttons. As much as Steve is pretending Reece doesn't exist, he lifts his hips a bit to make it easier for him to undo the button. Before he knows it Reece has freed his cock from the confines of his pants.
"What if I get pulled over, Reece?"
"What if... You get pulled off, Steve?"
Steve knows he's being mocked, and it boils his blood, in the way it always does, in a way he finds annoyingly arousing. He tries not to let Reece know, but it's of no use as his treacherous dick twitches of its own accord.
He's very aware of Reece's eyes boring into him from the side, but he refuses to answer.

Instead, he changes gears and speeds up. He's pretty sure he hasn't seen a speed limit sign in over half an hour, so he's decided the speed limit is whatever he wants it to be.
Reece doesn't seem perturbed in the slightest as he idly plays with the button on Steve's trousers.
"You do know you look silly, right? Going 70 miles an hour with your cock out."
No answer.
"You only need to say it and I'll help you out. I know you're just being stubborn. Just say the word and I'm yours."
No answer.
"Please, Steve. Let me help you out. I'll be on my best behaviour the rest of the weekend, I promise."
Steve takes his foot off the accelerator out of self preservation, before giving in.
"I'll keep you to that promise, you know. Now get on with it. Please."
Reece grins and dives in. Before Steve can think about it, his cock is enveloped in the warm heat of Reece's mouth. He thought he was prepared. He really isn't. He was prepared for slightly rough, dry hands. Not for the velvety feel of a tongue around his head, nor the soft lips wrapped around him. He has to fight to keep his eyes open.
"Fucking hell, Reece."
The hummed reply sends shocks through his body.
"Reece, you need to stop."
Reece does not stop. If anything, he's bobbing up and down with renewed vigour.
"You need to get off of me, Reece. I've got to… There's a... Fuck."
An especially well aimed flick of Reece's tongue makes Steve momentarily close his eyes, before snapping back to reality.
"Reece! You're on top of the gearbox. We need to slow down. You're going to make us crash."
"Fine," Reece says, with no sense of emergency, as he pushes himself up and back into his seat. When Steve glances over, he looks dishevelled and mildly annoyed.
"Well, I'm sorry I'm not letting you kill us," he says sarcastically.
"Your loss, buddy." Reece shrugs like he's completely unbothered by it, but from the corner of his eye, Steve sees him press the heel of his hand into his own crotch and thinks to himself that perhaps the loss is mutual.
"We're nearly there anyway, and we'll have a whole weekend to make up for it." Steve's going slowly enough now to take one of his hands off of the steering wheel and put his half-hard cock back in his pants. He gives himself a small squeeze to relieve some of the tension, and can tell he's being observed from the passenger seat.
"Have patience, young one," he says in his best wise Sensei voice.
"Fuck off." Comes the reply, though he can hear the smile that accompanies it.

Chapter Text

It's early evening by the time they arrive. They'd picked up the key from a farm about a mile back, where, much to Reece's dismay, Steve had insisted on being polite and talking to the owners.
"We could've just got the keys and left, but nooo, you gotta answer all their questions about why we've decided to come here, which always leads to having to explain what the fuck it is we do, which leads to questions about what the fuck is wrong with us that that's what we do, which leads to quest..."
"Yes, yes, I know, I know. They walked away from that conversation fully convinced we're about to sacrifice some trout to the devil. I was just trying to be civil."
Reece snorts and they fall silent as Steve drives them down the driveway. He parks right outside the cabin.

They both grab some of the stuff they've brought - it's mostly games, notebooks and a computer - and make their way towards the door.
Steve unlocks it, then steps inside. Before he's even had time to look around, he's unceremoniously pushed against the hallway wall, Reece's mouth on his neck. He automatically puts a hand in Reece's hair and is rewarded with a lovely little noise.
"Reece, can we at least shut the door first?" He asks, voice less steady than he'd hoped.
The shorter man reaches back with his foot and kicks the door closed, his mouth still on Steve's neck. He's kissing and biting like his life depends on it, and Steve is sure he'll be able to see the marks on his skin in the morning. As Steve tightens the hand in Reece's hair, Reece presses his crotch into Steve's hip, trying to find some friction.
Steve is enjoying the attention, and is slightly disappointed when Reece eventually puts enough distance between them to look the other man in the eye. Pupils blown so wide, there's barely any blue left.
"I said I was going to be on my best behaviour and I was, wasn't I?"
Steve knows what he's trying to achieve and decides to humour him.
"Yes,” he sighs, “yes, you were."
He slides his hand down from Reece's hair to cradle the side of his face and Reece immediately leans into it, blinking slowly.
"And we both know that good things come to good people," Steve muses.
Without waiting for a further reply, he turns them around, so Reece - who lets out an undignified yelp at the sudden movement - is now being pressed against the wall. It's clear Reece is enjoying himself, his breathing just this side of frantic, and Steve takes a second to listen to the high pitched noises coming from the man in front of him. It's the loveliest symphony he's ever heard and he's so caught up in it, he forgets to move until the noises become more and more impatient. He blinks, and looks at Reece looking at him, pupils blown wide, chest moving up and down, up and down. Finally, he surges forward and kisses Reece, who sighs in relief. His right hand is firmly on Reece's neck, steadying them both. His left hand wanders from Reece's shoulder to his chest, over his ribs - which earns him a ticklish intake of breath - down to his hip and over the front of his trousers. Steve smiles against Reece's lips as the other man squirms under his ministrations.
"Hurry up!"
"There I was thinking you were being good, but good boys are patient..." Steve clicks his tongue before continuing: "and I don't think I could in all honesty say you’re being patient right now."
The look in Reece's eyes is somewhere between desperate and murderous and Steve can't help the smile that spreads across his face. It's payback for the trick Reece pulled in the car.
"We've got the whole weekend. I could teach you some patience over the next few days, you know. I'm very good at self-control. Can the same be said about you?"
The murderous look in Reece's eyes is replaced by something almost resembling fear.
"You wouldn't..."
"No, I wouldn’t,” Steve laughs, “I paid too much for this cabin to waste any time, but just keep it in mind, yeah…”
Reece barks out a nervous laugh.
“Fuck, you’re horrible! I’ll be patient, I'll be patient… Just not right now. We can work on patience some other time." He nods vigorously, seemingly agreeing with his own words.

Reece expects Steve to finally put his hands on his dick, but instead he is hoisted up into the air and carried to the living room. It's is harder than it sounds, as in their haste to get going, Steve hasn't had the time to explore and find out where the living room is, and thus initially nearly walks them into the bathroom.
Once they’re in the living room, Steve deposits him unceremoniously on the sofa. When Reece looks up at him, he's red and sweaty and trying very hard not to look out of breath. Steve wipes his forehead with the back of his hand, as Reece props himself up on his forearms.

The energy has changed. The short walk from the hallway to the living room has made the situation less frantic and more familiar.
"Lie down with me," Reece commands, and Steve steps to the left, intending to lie down on the sofa next to him.
"No. On top of me." Steve's mouth forms a soundless "oh".
He loses his balance halfway through lying down, and collapses on top of Reece, whose breath gets knocked out of him.
"Fuck me, you absolute whale."
"I thought you just asked me not to do that."
"Yes, and I'm regretting it, Jesus Christ."
They lie there for a few minutes, breathing slowing down in the silence.
After a while, Steve breaks the quiet, his head still nestled in the crook of Reece's neck.
"So... What exactly was your plan here?"
Reece's reply sounds slightly slurred, as if he'd nearly fallen asleep.
"'s just nice. You're a good weighted blanket."
"I thought I was a whale."
"Good weighted whale."
"Ha! Cheers. Now, before you nod off, shall we get up, have some dinner and then see where the evening takes us?"
Steve raises his head and wiggles his eyebrows to emphasise the last part of his sentence. It has the desired effect; it makes Reece snort and nod.
"Alright then. Get off of me and I'll make us tea."

Chapter Text

By the time Reece is chopping onions, the alcohol he had earlier in the day has completely left his system. Steve is behind him at the table, looking through their notes, hoping they can do some brainstorming while Reece cooks them dinner. The initial plan had been to get a pizza, but it turned out there weren't any pizza places that were willing to send a teenager on a moped to a cabin this remote. They couldn't fathom why. Luckily, they'd found the cabin kitchen to be well stocked.

"So, tell me again what we've got so far." Reece says while moving oil around in a pan.
"We've got Pauline in prison. Pauline out of prison. Pauline and Mickey reuniting. Pauline and Ross working together. Pauline and Her Nibbs..."
"We're not doing Her Nibbs."
"Aww, come on!"
"No! It's too much!"
Reece turns around, holding the kitchen knife.
Steve looks at him in disbelief.
"You! You're telling me something is too much?"
"Yes! Exactly! So that's saying something." He points the knife at Steve to emphasise his point. Steve grumbles.
"Fine. No Her Nibbs." Though rather than crossing it out completely, he just puts it between brackets.
"Also, we should probably add some scenes without Pauline."
Steve pouts. "I thought you liked Pauline."
"I do, I do. I just thought you might want a break occasionally… And I think it'll be better if we have some completely different sketches in there as well."
"Such as?"
"Haven't decided yet." He highlights each word with a knife flick, then turns around again to continue his cooking.
Steve taps his fingers on the table.
"I did see that article about a man who rehearsed his own funeral?"
Reece hums.
"Okay. How many times?"
"Oh, so many. Until no one attended anymore."
"I see, I see. And then?"
"Then he did it by himself and his wife showed up with a new husband!"
"No way! Who was it?"
"His own BROTHER!"
"Scandalous!"
Reece turns around and gasps for dramatic effect as Steve searches the table for the pencil he’s just put down. Pointing with a spatula this time, Reece says:
"Anything you don't want food on, put it away now. It's nearly finished."

They have dinner and talk through sketch ideas some more. Afterwards they try to play a game, but Steve's mind keeps wandering and every time he blinks, it becomes more difficult to open his eyes again.
"Sorry, dear. It was a long drive up. I'm absolutely knackered. I think I'll have a quick shower and then bed. You coming with?"
Reece looks at him grumpily, annoyed he doesn’t get to obliterate Steve at the game.
"Hey, if you learn how to drive, we'll be able to divide the journey between us next time and I might not be as exhausted."
"That's not fair, you know I tried. I'm just not... I don't know. I just can't do it."
"I know, love. Luckily, you've got other talents. So... Are you coming to bed with me to show me some of those talents of yours?" He wiggles his eyebrows at Reece again, who grins from where he's sitting cross-legged on the carpet. Then he puts his hands up, so Steve can help him get up.

"They do say I'm magic in bed, you know."
"I see. You're going to pull the Queen of Hearts out of my ass, are you?"
Reece gives him a soft shove.
"Rude!"
"What? Language too crude for your delicate ears, is it?"
"Not the language, you buffoon. You stole my joke!"
"Ah yes. My apologies, good sir." Steve stops in the entrance to the bathroom, turns to Reece, and bows, playing up his contriteness.
It earns him another shove.
"Can I make it up to you by inviting you into my shower?" Steve's voice has gone from playful to positively sultry as he reaches for Reece's waist.
"And stand next to you in the cold, while you hog all the hot water? No thank you! I'll come brush my teeth and look at you for a bit, and then you'll be able to find me warming the bed."
"I'll make sure to put on a show then."
"Please don't, you'll hurt your back... Again."

Without breaking eye contact, however, Steve lifts his shirt up and over his head, movements slow and purposeful to prove he will, and shall, put on a show. It falls apart a little bit when he knocks his elbow into the door and curses loudly, but the show must go on.
Reece walks over to sit on the closed toilet seat with a bemused look in his eyes. He crosses his arms and leans back, showing that he is yet to be impressed by the performance. When Steve undoes his belt with a particularly pronounced hip gyration, Reece wolf whistles, but remains otherwise seemingly unaffected. With a renewed vigour, Steve continues. He has to hold on to the sink to make sure he doesn't fall over when his trousers get stuck around his ankles, but by the time he's just wearing his pants, Reece has moved forward on his seat unconsciously. He knows what's coming, and is a little appalled to realise he's salivating at the thought. God damnit, Pavlov.

At last, the pants come off too, and Reece has to physically stop himself from falling on his knees in front of Steve. This was just a show, Steve will have his shower and will join him in bed after, all clean and lovely smelling.
So instead, he stands up, gives Steve's ass a quick squeeze and a pat, and thanks him for the show. Steve only looks a little dejected as he moves to the shower.

Looking in the mirror, Reece can see his pupils are dilated and his face is slightly flushed. He rolls his eyes at his own reflection and picks up his toothbrush. Turning around again with his toothbrush in his mouth, he admires Steve for a second. The man looks positively biteable as he stands there under the hot water, all soft and rosy.

"I'll be in the bedroom, don't be too long!" Reece says, once he's finished his evening routine. Steve hums in reply and then immediately turns the shower off.
"I'll be right out. Don't fall asleep before I get there."
"I'll try not to."
The tiredness hits Steve again while he's drying himself. He brushes his teeth with his eyes closed, then stumbles to the bedroom.
With one eye open, he takes in the sight before him. Reece has thrown the covers to one side, and is lying on the mattress with his arms folded behind his head. Steve wishes he was better at drawing so he could draw the man before him as the small God he is, and have the image with him to look at whenever he wishes. Then the small God moves.
Reece pushes himself up onto his elbows to look at Steve. Steve is swaying slightly in the door opening, one eye open. Still gorgeous.
"Hello."
"Hi."
"Are you planning on walking the rest of the way to the bed, or have you decided to take a quick nap over there?"
"I was just enjoying the view."
Reece rolls his eyes at him.
"Alright, Romeo. Come over here now."
Steve is too tired not to listen. He collapses onto the bed, face first.
"Mnosjuramoptmshrighnw."
"What's that, dear?"
Steve lifts his head and tries again.
"I'm not sure I'm up to much right now."
"Oh, don't worry. I'll do all the work. You did all the driving today, it's my turn now."

Steve grumbles as Reece pushes at him until he's lying on his back. Neither of them put on pyjamas before going to bed, and Steve has never been so grateful for anything in his life. Now all he has to do is move a pillow behind his head and enjoy himself.
And a show it is. Reece has conjured a bottle of lube from God knows where and is working himself open. Knees on either side of Steve's thighs and one hand on Steve's hip to steady himself. His eyes closed, his mouth open, Steve is captivated by him. This small God, created just for him. Or perhaps he was created just for this small God. Either way, his eyes roll back in his skull when Reece suddenly sinks down on his dick and they let out a synchronised hiss at the sensation. Steve's hands wander over Reece's thighs, feeling the texture of his leg hair, feeling the muscle underneath when Reece raises himself up, just to come back down. And again, and again. And after all the heated touches and words today, this moment is gentle. They're breathing in tandem and nothing exists but the heat of their bodies, and the soft sounds of pleasure.
Reece looks down at Steve and sees the bliss written all over his face. He feels the tension in his lower stomach building, and doubles his efforts. Steve's hands tighten on his legs as he lets out a groan.
"Close," he mumbles.
Reece hums, unable to think of enough letters to form a reply.
"T... Touch yourself. For me," Steve says softly.
He’s making eye contact with him now, the look on his face both dazed and commanding. All Reece can do is nod and hold out his hand. Steve gently grabs hold of it, and brings it to his mouth, kissing all his fingertips before licking a stripe up his palm. He guides it to Reece's cock and wraps Reece's fingers around it.

Reece's breath hitches and it feels impossible to keep his eyes open any longer. He whines as Steve suddenly thrusts his hips up to meet him halfway.
"S.. Steve. Stop it. I'm... I'm doing the wo.. FUCK," Reece interrupts himself when a particularly well aimed thrust hits his prostate and he dives head first over the edge, his cum covering his own hand and Steve’s belly.
Steve's only a few seconds behind, breathing heavily as he holds Reece in place on his lap. They bask in the sensation for a second, before Reece lifts himself off and moves to the bedroom to clean himself up. By the time he returns to the bedroom with a warm washcloth, Steve is snoring softly.
Knowing Steve will hate it if he wakes up with his chest hair all crusty, Reece gently mops at him, before throwing the washcloth into a corner and manoeuvring himself next to Steve. He pulls the duvet over them both, then scoots closer to Steve, who sleepily pulls him into his chest. It's a little too warm and his neck is at an odd angle, yet he’s asleep within minutes.

Chapter Text

Reece wakes up early next morning, because neither of them thought to close the curtains the night before. Early morning light is shining in through the window as he blearily opens his eyes. Steve is facing away from the window and away from Reece, the duvet only covering him from the waist down. Reece takes a moment to admire the broadness of his back, the solidness of his body. He likes the back of Steve's ears and the freckles on his shoulders. And in the pale morning light he looks edible. Flesh made of marzipan, sweet and indulgent. He lets one of his hands skim over Steve's neck, and down his spine, before moving in to nibble softly at his bicep.
"Fuck off, I'm asleep," mumbles Steve.
"No."
"Yes. Go away."
Pretending to follow Steve's request, Reece moves away ever so slightly, before diving back in to bite down on Steve's rib cage. Steve yelps and tries to pull away, but Reece just moves with him, sucking at the bite mark he's just made. Eventually he lets up and Steve rolls over to look at him.
"You're absolutely feral, you know that right."
Reece grins. "I've been made aware, yes."
Steve snorts and rubs his eyes.
"Think you'll be able to go back to sleep? I don't think I'm ready to get up yet."
"I can try."
"Come here then."

The next time they wake up, the sun’s significantly higher in the sky. They get up and get dressed in amicable silence and it's only when they've both got a cup of coffee in their hands and there's bread in the toaster that Reece speaks.
"I think we should make them fuck."
Steve tries so hard not to spit his coffee out in surprise, that some of it comes out through his nose. Through his coughs he just about manages to say: "What? Who? I mean, eh huh?"
Reece gently pats him on the back and waits for Steve to regain his composure before answering.
"Ross and Pauline. I think they should fuck."
He sounds deeply serious as he continues to rub circles into Steve's back.
"Why?" Steve sounds genuinely confused, and Reece doesn't understand. He'd assumed they'd both been playing these characters as a lusthate relationship.
He leans back against the kitchen counter, both hands now on his coffee mug.
"It only makes sense," he shrugs suddenly less sure of his idea, "we know her and Mickey get up to some... Business, why not her and Ross?"
"Because they can't stand each other!" Steve laughs.
"Yeah, but hatred is just a different kind of passion! And you know how sometimes people do things even though they know it'll be a bad idea, but they can't stop themselves from doing it, and even the people involved can tell it's not going to be pretty, but there's nothing they can do about it at that point, so they ju..." Steve shushes him before he can work himself up into too much of a frenzy.
He steps closer and calmly takes Reece's mug from him, and puts it behind Reece on the counter.
"I get your point, but," Steve starts, his voice low and steady, "I think it might be, just a little bit, because you're jealous that Mark and I get to snog for a bit and you aren't invited."
Reece's "No!" Comes out high and unconvincing and when Reece looks up into Steve's face he's met with a mischievous smirk.
"I think you're lying," Steve says in a singsong voice, "I think you're very very jealous that pretty, pretty Mark and I get to snog and you're not going to beeee theeeree."
Reece scowls and tries to cross his arms, but before he can Steve grabs his wrists and puts them behind him on the kitchen counter, holding them in place. He tries to hold on to his frown, but his resolve falters as soon as Steve leans in so his breath is ghosting over his ear. Reece breathes in slowly, distracted by the scent of coffee and lingering soap that radiates from Steve.
"I'll try make it good, so you have something to wank to when you get lonely." Steve breathes.
"You're a dickhead."
"Sure. Oh, but maybe it isn't jealousy. Maybe you just want the world to know how much you like getting fucked up the arse. Maybe you need everyone to see how desperate you are. How much you crave me."
Reece whimpers.
"Oh, that's it, isn't it. You want Pauline on top of you. Maybe get her to use one of her famous pens, or her waspish tongue. I understand, I understand. I think Pauline would be into pegging too."
With difficulty, Reece manages a stuttered: "N... No."
It catches Steve off guard. "No?" He moves away from Reece's ear to look at him properly, and cocks an eyebrow, waiting for further explanation.
Reece has the audacity to look almost shy as he says: "I... I want to fuck Pauline."
Steve lets out a disbelieving laugh, but abruptly stops as he sees Reece's facial expression change to something much darker and more possessive. Eyes boring into Steve's, all signs of shyness evaporated.
"I want to fuck Pauline hard and fast. I want her screaming underneath me. I want her to forget who and where she is." And Steve feels himself growing hard at the thought. Reece has never expressed a desire to top. He's happy being manhandled and cared for. He likes sucking dick and riding Steve until there's no space for any thoughts in his head apart from the want, the need to cum. Full of surprises, full of surprises.
"Okay. Yep. Okay. We can do that, I think we can do that." Steve chokes out through the marvelous haze of thoughts in his head.
Reece looks very, very proud and a little bit deranged, and Steve is mesmerised. Then Steve's stomach growls and the spell is broken.
Reece smiles, back to his usual self.
"Breakfast first?"
"Breakfast first."

They eat some toast and work on a different scene. The writing is slow, but it's going and that's all that matters at this point. As long as they have something on paper, they can work out the details later. Even up here, further North and well out of the way of any city, the heat is difficult to deal with. By the time it's 2 o'clock, both of them are a bit sweaty, and very grumpy about it. They've been stuck in the same conversation for 10 minutes, talking in circles about what a doctor could possibly want from a patient in exchange for treatment.
"It's too obvious!"
"But it's funny."
"It's not funny, it's overdone."
"Then what do you suggest?"
"I don't know."
Reece throws up his hands in frustration, then gets up from his chair to get a coke from the fridge.
"Let's take a break for now. Do you want one?"
"Please."
Steve takes the coke from Reece with a quick "ta" and presses the can against his forehead.
"Game?"
"Sure."
"You pick."
"Can't be bothered to find a board or cards, so let's do I'm someone, somewhere, doing something."
"Fine by me. Are you a real person?"

They play a couple of rounds of increasing incredulity ("Yes! I am Nosferatu, in big Tesco, playing the pan flute!"), before they almost simultaneously dive for a pen to write down that this is exactly what the doctor wants. A bizarre round of grandma's footsteps and the loser doesn't get their prescription. Perhaps an insane game of musical chairs and the winner gets to keep their asthma inhaler.
They're so happy they've cracked it, they decide they don't have to think about writing for the rest of the day.
"Let's go swimming. I haven't gone swimming in ages."
"And that while I could've easily mistaken you for a seal."
"Oi."
"God, you even sound a bit like one."
Reece grins. It's a grin that reminds Steve of when they'd just met each other and neither were sure yet whether the other approved of their weird little jokes and well meaning banter. But as he'd once said himself; there's nothing quite like showing your friends you love them by ripping them to absolute pieces.
It hurts sometimes to think about how much older they are now and how much times have changed while simultaneously staying exactly the same. They're still ripping each other to pieces though, so it's all okay.

Reece stretches dramatically, and Steve's brain short-circuits because of the narrow strip of tummy he gets to see. For a second, he feels like a man at the start of the twentieth century who has fits of hysterics after seeing a lady's ankles. And maybe he is actually going to fucking die one of these days from how pretty the man opposite him is, and from how much of him he gets to see. Perhaps in about 20 minutes when he gets to see him in swimming trunks. Wait... Swimming trunks.

"Reece?"
Reece, oblivious to Steve's musings, pushes himself up out of his chair before responding.
"Yeah?"
"Did you bring swimming trunks?"
"My loveliest of idiots," he replies, while walking around Steve's chair so he can put a hand on his shoulder and lean in, "we are in the middle of fucking nowhere. We do not need swimming trunks. We shall swim as nature intended.” He pats Steve's shoulder a couple of times before wandering off to the toilet.

Steve is sure he will perish imminently.

Chapter Text

Half an hour later, they're making their way to the water. They've got towels, a bottle of water, a couple cans of can't, and - because Steve insisted - two chocolate bars ("me dad always said you need a chocolate bar after a swim. It helps you warm up." "Yes. WARM UP. This is advice for when you go swimming in the sea in April, you dunce, not for when you intend to go for a dip in a lake at the height of summer." "It's fucking chocolate, man, what are you complaining about." “ Ah. Yeah, good point actually.").

It's only a short walk, but Steve feels sweaty and disgusting by the time they arrive. He unceremoniously dumps everything he's holding and grumpily undresses.
It's not the suave striptease he'd had in mind when he imagined this moment, but he can't be arsed. The only thing that brings him joy in this moment is that from the corner of his eye he can see Reece is doing the exact same thing.
Once he's fully undressed, he all but runs to the water. It's delightfully cool, though the top layer of water has been warmed by the sun. There's a soft breeze that carries the smell of dried grass and overripe blackberries. These are the perfect conditions to relax in the water and get a horrific sunburn.

He's been enjoying the experience for a whole five seconds before a wave of water hits him in the face. He splutters as Reece comes up from a weird little dive. He watches as Reece gracefully turns onto his back and drifts gently through the water back to Steve. Reece reaches out to take his hand and Steve is forcefully reminded of otters, holding on to each other as they sleep, so they don't drift apart. He's just opened his mouth to start telling Reece about this, when Reece pulls his hand down into the water and the rest of Steve's body doesn't have a choice but to follow. He immediately loses any idea of which way is up and, in his surprise, tries to breathe in. Realising Steve's having a genuine moment of panic, Reece pulls him the right way up again. It takes a while for the coughing to subside while Reece halfheartedly slaps his back and laughs through an almost-sincere apology.

Once Steve can properly breathe again, there's a loving sort of murder in his eyes.
He growls a quick "You're going down,” before wrapping his legs around Reece's waist and pulling him under. Reece writhes a bit, but Steve doesn’t let go. He counts to twenty in his head, before loosening his legs and letting the other man escape. Reece gasps for air as he breaks the surface.
“You… Bastard. You fucking bastard,” he pants, but his pupils are dilated and he immediately presses himself against Steve.
He only has a second to realise Reece is rock solid against his hip, before Reece is attacking his lips and his neck and every other bit of him he can reach above the water. It’s slimy, and a little awkward, surrounded by water as they are, but undeniably hot.
“Do it again,” Reede chokes out.
“How long can you stay under for?” Steve doesn’t know if he’s panting from the continuous effort of keeping afloat, or from the sensational snogging he’s just received.
“I don’t know. I’ll squeeze your thigh three times if I need to come up, yeah.” And without further ado, he practically dives back down, clearly under the impression that Steve will know what to do.

After a few brief moments under the water, Reece feels a hand descend onto the top of his head, holding him in place. It’s a nice feeling. With his eyes closed and all sounds muffled. Every touch feels more intense and more important. After a while, he can feel his lungs start to burn, but there’s no real urgency behind it yet. He stretches his arms out in front of him and finds Steve’s body. It’s warm and solid in the cold water. He lets his hands slide over Steve's body for a while, curious to find out which bits of him might float.
Slowly, his lungs start sending signals to his brain to tell him it’s time for another breath. He instinctively pushes himself up, but the hand on his head stays in place. Adrenaline rushes through his body in a panic, but his brain is calm. It’s just a practice round. He squeezes Steve’s thigh and the hand on his head relents. He lets himself drift upward, and takes a deep breath once he can feel air on his face. The noises of nature that had sounded so calming earlier, sound cacophonous to him now. He keeps his eyes shut, to reduce the onslaught of stimuli.
“How was that?” Steve asks almost timidly.
“Yeah.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He smiles and hopes he’s still facing Steve.
“Wanna go again?”
He nods.

This time it’s Steve’s hand that pushes him down. He has just enough time to take a deep breath, before the world disappears again and he’s back in the tranquil silence of the lake. Not wanting to waste oxygen on useless things like enjoying the moment, he reaches out to Steve, pulls himself closer and finds his cock. He’s happily surprised to find Steve fully erect now. Steve almost lets go of his hair as he slides his lips around Steve's cock, trying not to get too much water in his mouth. He can feel a full-body shiver run through Steve as he swirls his tongue around the head.

It’s difficult to find enough purchase in the water to suck Steve off how he normally would, until he remembers he can pull Steve towards him. He firmly places his hands on Steve’s ass and starts moving his head up and down Steve's cock. He’s rewarded with Steve’s hand tightening in his hair, and hums his approval, concentrating on the tingling sensation in his scalp.
He wants to keep going, he wants to stay in this state of calm, and pleasure, and hyperfocus for ever, but there’s a rushing in his ears that wasn’t there before, and he can feel his midriff contract, mimicking breaths he isn’t taking. Reluctantly, he squeezes Steve’s thigh and comes up for breath.
“Again.”
Steve doesn’t say anything, but simply pushes him back down, right towards his cock. Reece hasn’t breathed in enough and the rushing in his ears starts again almost immediately. For now, he doesn’t care. All too soon he has to come up for air again, before getting pushed down into the dark water once more.

Steve’s hand is moving his head up and down his cock with greater intensity now and when Reece takes his balls in hand, Steve’s grip becomes almost painful. He can feel the rhythm in his whole body, forwards, backwards, forwards again, his tongue feeling the same ridges of velvety skin over and over, hypnotising him.
He can feel Steve’s close, but he also knows he’s almost out of oxygen. He keeps going. Colourful spots start to appear before his eyes and despite himself, he tries to push himself back to the surface. The hand on his head doesn’t let him. He tries again, and Steve’s other hand grips his shoulder to hold him down. He can’t remember what to do and Steve’s still using him to get off. He tries to scream, but he’s under water with a dick still half in his mouth and all it does is make his lungs burn. He scrambles, desperately, and his hand lands on Steve’s thigh by accident. He doesn’t think he actually manages to squeeze it, but Steve pulls him up by the hair anyway. The first noise to reach his ears above the water, is the unmistakable sound of Steve coming. He’s only halfway through his first breath when Steve’s mouth closes over his. His muscles feel shaky and he’s glad Steve’s holding on to him as tightly as he is, or he'd fear he'd sink back into the water again.

Steve thinks he might have just died. Perhaps he is dead, and this is own personal heaven, and Jesus is about to walk across the lake to tell him League is God’s favourite television programme. Perhaps that's why he’s currently experiencing true bliss. The water is comfortable, he’s just had a great orgasm and now he’s kissing the prettiest man in the world. He never wants it to end.
It’s only when they stop kissing and he has a proper look at Reece’s face that he realises that perhaps he is not in heaven. He imagines that in his heaven, Reece would be a lot more awake and a bit less blue around the lips.
“Fuck, Reece, are you okay?”
“Hmm.” He looks dazed and is blinking very slowly.
“Jesus. Okay, let’s get you out of the water, buddy.”
Reece hums again and lets himself be pulled along. It’s more difficult than Steve wants to admit, but eventually he’s dragged Reece all the way to shore. He lies him down on one of the towels they brought, then searches through their stuff in search of a chocolate bar.
When he turns back to Reece, he’s still looking a bit out of it, but his colour has returned.
“Sit up a bit,” Steve says as he sit down next to him.
“But'm tired.” Reece mumbles.
“You can lean against me.”
“Fineee."
Reece pushes himself up, then slumps against Steve’s bare chest. Steve helps him drink some water, then gives him the chocolate bar to nibble on.

“Was it good, though?” Reece asks once he’s eaten most of the bar and is feeling more like himself again.
“What?”
“Don’t tell me it was that forgettable.”
“No, no! Sorry. It was… odd. Really intense. A bit like I was getting sucked off by a fish.”
“Cheers.”
“You're welcome. No, in all honesty, it was really, really hot, being… being able to control your breathing like that. I've, I've never felt so…” he's really struggling to find the right words. “Never felt so powerful. I’d like to try it again some time. If you want. But perhaps without the added danger of drowning.”
Reece looks up at him with bright blue eyes and Steve feels both his heart and his dick twitch.
“I think I'd like that.”
Reece lets his head rest against Steve's chest again and closes his eyes.
“Tired now, though. Might take a little nap.”
“If you lie down properly, I'll put some sunscreen on you, so I don't have to listen to you whine all night about how you feel like a freshly boiled lobster.”
Reece rolls his eyes, but does as he's told and lies down on his front.
“You love listening to me whine.”
“Not if it's just you complaining about how sunburnt you are because I let you fall asleep in the middle of the day, in the sun, at the height of summer, dear.”
“I would never do that.”
“Sure, love. Sure.”

Reece rests his head on his hands as Steve gets up to get the sunscreen.
“I didn't even realise you'd brought sunscreen.”
“Well, luckily for you, I have the power of foresight.”
“Lucky for me, indeed,” Reece sighs as Steve sits down on his legs,.and starts massaging the sunscreen into his skin. It reminds him of a different massage, and the bizarre, but weirdly arousing dream he had during it. He intends to tell Steve about it, but before he can come up with the right words, he's nodding off again.

Chapter Text

Once more, Reece dreams.
He dreams he's a snake. He is slithering through the undergrowth of an unknown place, tasting the air. It tastes of dry heat, soil, and fruit. He sticks his tongue out again, and finds there's something else. Something unfamiliar. He wants to explore it.
He is propelled by a need to find out where it is and what it looks like. Perhaps he'd be able to see it if he were higher up. A large tree would come in handy.
Just when he has this thought, a large tree emerges in front of him. Instinctively, he knows the tree is old. It's older than him and older than the plants, and older than anything else in this place. It tastes of summer and autumn, of light and dusk. It tastes ancient and important.
He slithers up the trunk until he can wrap himself around a branch and look around.
There.

On the ground, not far from the tree, sits a creature. It's sitting cross-legged in the shade of a smaller tree, and seems to be looking intently at something it is holding in its hands. The creature is a lovely rosy colour. The snake who is Reece is mesmerised by it, not able to tear his gaze away from the strange creature below.
As if it can feel the eyes that are on it, the creature looks around; searching for something. On its second scan of the garden, its blue eyes meet the eyes of the snake and widen. It scrambles up to its feet, but doesn't run away. This display of courage pleases the snake.
He has known many creatures who’ve run away at the sight of him in the past. This creature, however, takes a careful step towards him, as if it's afraid to scare him instead.
The snake is taken aback by this sincerity, but slowly makes his way down to a lower branch. The creature's scent is stronger now. It tastes sweet and clean, with a hint of something saltier and earthier underneath. It tastes absolutely delicious. He wouldn’t mind being able to smell this forever.

The creature is now standing almost directly underneath him. They stare at each other for several eternities, before the snake lets his eyes roam over the creature. Taking in every detail. It’s not wearing any clothes, but he doesn’t think anything in the garden has ever worn clothes, and it doesn’t seem to bother the creature. His eyes roam over the round shoulders, the strong arms. They roam over the creature’s soft chest and he feels a weird need to curl up inside it. Live behind its ribs for ever and ever. Close to the steady beat of its heart.

His eyes roam on, and now the snake can finally see what the creature had been looking at earlier. It's a small picture, scratched into a bit of bark. The snake doesn't recognise it, but it makes him feel all warm inside, like when he takes a nap on a big rock in the afternoon sun. The creature holds the picture up to him and he wants to accept the gift, but he isn't sure how. He wishes he had hands like the creature’s, warm and strong, perfect for holding onto things.
The creature cocks its head and lowers its arm, a dejected look on its face. He’s taken too long to respond, he’s made the creature think he doesn’t accept his gift. He feels a familiar panic rise inside of him.
The snake wants to give the creature a present in return, to show he does care, he does appreciate. He wants to give it something sweet and important, like the picture, like the creature itself.
His tail disentangles from the branch and wraps itself instead around one of the tree’s fruits. He brings it close to his face, inspecting it to make sure it's perfect, then lowers it slowly to the creature below.
The creature accepts it with enthusiasm, and doesn't lower its arm after taking hold of the fruit. Instead, it seems expectant. Its eyes are bright and clear, gazing at him like he’s something valuable. The snake is unsure if it's an invitation. He's been wrong about that before. Slowly, slowly, he moves towards the outstretched arm. At first contact, he hisses. The creature is warm, and its smell is almost overwhelming now. He can taste its scent all around him, but he finds he doesn't mind. He slithers on.

Soon he's wrapped all the way around the creature's shoulders and arms. He's never felt so safe, but at the edge of his consciousness he can feel a familiar anxiety. He knows. He knows he can squeeze too tightly. He knows he's done that before. Leaving nothing in his wake but death and destruction.
The creature seems unaware of the dangers. It walks away from the tree with him as if he weighs nothing at all. It sits down where it was sitting before, now looking intently at the fruit he'd given it. Tentatively, it moves the fruit closer to its face, and the snake tenses in anticipation. It coils up tighter, awaiting the moment the creature will bite into the fruit. There’s a tension building inside of him, and he’s unaware of the tightening of his muscles around the creature’s body. Tighter and tighter and tighter as the creature opens its mouth. Tighter and tighter and tighter. The crunch of the fruit coincides with the more sinister snap of bones being crushed. And with a piercing scream, the world goes black.

Reece wakes up with a start, on a towel in the sun, and Steve is nowhere to be found.

Chapter Text

For a little while after Reece falls asleep, Steve sits next to him on the grass. He rubs sunscreen into his shoulders, and, after weighing up the pros and cons of putting sunscreen on his cock, decides to put his pants back on.
He lies next to Reece and tries to relax, annoyed he didn't bring a book with him. He plays with Reece's hair and strokes a finger down his nose, then has to stifle a laugh at the way Reece scrunches up his face in response.
Realising Reece is going to be fully zonked out for a while, he gets up and goes for a wander.

There's a several paths leading away from where they were sitting. One official one; the one they walked down to get here. The rest are desire paths, made by people who’d been there previously and also fancied a wander.
Steve likes thinking about who those people were, why they were here, what they were up to.
He imagines a little old man checking if nature is trying hard enough, if the bushes are up to scratch, if the water is wet enough.
He imagines a young couple trying to get away from their families to make out, who thought it romantic to lie under a rosebush, and regret it when it turns out an ant colony had had the same idea. He smiles at the idea.

He's had the foresight to put on his shoes before setting out, and he's glad now that he's found a patch full of blackberry bushes. He's picking them carefully, making sure not to get scratched too badly.
He imagines more people. Little kids who get told they can't eat the berries that are too low to the ground, but are unable to reach high enough.
An old lady, perhaps a witch, who goes to pick blackberries every summer to make jam… and potions.

He's got a mouth full of blackberries and is seeing how high he can stack them in the palm of his hand, when he hears his name being called in something he recognises as mild panic.
He quickly swallows the berries, so he can yell back:
“Give me a sec, I'll make my way back!”
Not wanting to waste them, he decides to carry the berries back with him.

Reece is waiting for him in the clearing, an odd look on his face. Just the sight of Steve seems to ease some of the panic in his eyes.
“You alright, buddy?”
“Yeah, I think so,” he rubs at his face with his hands, “just a bad dream.”
“Want to talk about it?”
Steve sits down next to him and offers some of the blackberries.
“Thanks. No, not at the moment, I don't think.”
Steve nods, and they eat the rest of the blackberries in silence, shoulder to shoulder.

“Am I too much?” It's so quiet, Steve initially doesn't realise Reece meant to say it out loud. He laughs in surprise when he realises it’s a serious question, and is met with the same mildly panicked eyes as before.
“No! You're not!”
The eyes narrow in suspicion.
“No! I promise. You are a LOT, a lot of the time, but never too much. I like how much you are. The exact right amount actually.”
Reece looks at his own hands, now wrapped around his knees, and nods.
“Is this what your dream was about?” Steve asks tentatively.
“I… don't know. Maybe, yeah. I woke up and you weren't there and I thought you'd… left.”
He's still naked, and here on the towel, with his legs against his chest, he looks so small and vulnerable, it hurts something fierce in Steve's chest.

“You are very silly, you know that right.”
Reece nods again. Steve nudges at his shoulder until Reece lets go of his knees and, after more gentle pushes, lets himself fall onto his back. Steve leans over him, slowly lowering his weight onto him. The man underneath him huffs out a weak protest.
“Oh. It’s too much for you, is it? Am I too much?” Steve jests.
Reece manages a genuine smile, “You? Never. You're the exact right amount, actually.”
“That's what I thought,” Steve says as he rests his head on Reece's chest, hearing the steady beat of his heart.

He trails his hands down Reece's sides, enjoying the smooth skin and the soft breaths Reece is taking. Without thinking, Reece moves his arms above his head, wrists crossed. Steve pushes himself up on his forearms, and with the weight lifted off his chest, Reece arches his back. One of Steve's hands moves to hold down Reece's wrists, the other snakes underneath Reece and around his waist. With a quick look at his face, Steve moves his head down to shower Reece's neck and chest in kisses. Shallow, hitching breaths reach his ears, and he's sure Reece is holding back on purpose.

“More.”
It's like pressing the volume button on a remote the way Reece immediately turns it up a notch. Steve's breath ghosts over his sternum and Reece tries to arch up even further. A chaste kiss is all he receives in return. Steve's aware Reece is trying to thrust his hips up, but with Steve's lower body still firmly on top of him, he’s not getting the friction he's trying to find.
Reece whines out a desperate plea for relief, and Steve is suddenly reminded that he never actually got to cum earlier. Without further ado, Steve sits up. Reece looks distraught by the sudden lack of contact.
“Come on then, you promised to fuck me like Ross would Pauline.”

For a second, Steve thinks the thought alone is enough to make Reece cum, with his eyes squeezed shut and a groan leaving his open mouth. Then he seems to snap out of it, gets up in one smooth motion, and barely bothers to put his clothes back on before pulling Steve all the way back to their cabin.

Chapter Text

There's an ice cold determination in Reece's eyes by the time they make it through the front door of the cabin, but as Steve looks into them, he can see the fire burning underneath.
Reece immediately dumps their bag of towels and drinks in the hallway, then seems to hesitate for a second; deliberating.
“Living room.”
It's a command, not a suggestion and Steve is only too happy to oblige. Reece's hand comes to rest on his lower back as he steers them towards the sofa. Steve makes to sit down, but Reece pushes him knees first into one of the armrests before he gets the chance.
Reece is taking off both his own, and Steve's clothes like he's in a hurry. And perhaps he is. Steve doesn't mind. He's standing with his back to Reece, but he can hear his breathing and the unmistakable sound of Reece discarding his pants.

“So, do you want me to be her?” Steve hears himself ask in a voice that isn't quite his own, nor Pauline's.
“No. Be you,” Reece answers, jaw clenched, as he flattens his hands over Steve's bum. One of his hands comes up to push gently at Steve's shoulder and bend him over the arm of the sofa. Steve leans his upper body on his forearms, moving gentle backwards and forwards to check his balance.

“Stay.” It's another command, and Steve realises he doesn't actually mind being ordered around. It's almost cathartic after being the one assumed in charge for so much of his life. He doesn't move a muscle as he hears Reece moving away from him, the soft slap of bare feet on a wooden floor.

Reece returns and Steve hears the unmistakable sound of a bottle of lube being uncapped. He prepares himself for a trickle of cold that doesn't come. A wet sound reaches his ears; Reece is warming the lube between his hands. It makes Steve push his face into a sofa cushion and grin. He's so distracted by the small, loveling action, that he squeaks in surprise when a warm hand touches him right at his rim. The other hand immediately comes up to grab his hip and keep him in place.

Reece's voice is hoarse when he next speaks.
“He'd hate it, you know. He’d hate how attractive he finds her. And yet. And yet he wouldn't be able to stop himself from caring.”
A finger enters him and Steve tries to focus on Reece's voice, exciting and calming him simultaneously.
“He'd be so annoyed with himself and project it onto her. And she'd do the same. It's the same dance they've been doing for years.”

A second finger joins the first before he's fully ready and it burns before it starts feeling good. He tries to move back onto the fingers, but Reece tuts.
“He wouldn't let her set her own terms like that. Of course he's paying attention and making sure she gets as much out of this as him, but it's his turn to set the pace. Because he knows she would hate him for it.”

A third finger joins the first two and as they hit his prostate, Steve momentarily sees stars. He grits his teeth.
“Get on with it, Reece. Get fucking on with it.”
“Exactly, like that. You can see my vision now, can't you. He'd drag it out, keep her waiting. He wouldn't show how much he's getting out of it. Stoic throughout.” And as much as Reece is trying to stay in character, to stay unbothered himself, Steve can hear the desperation underneath. He can only imagine how much Reece is holding back for the sake of making it last.

Steve wants to look at Reece, wants to see the eagerness etched into his wonderful face, but with the way Reece has put him on the sofa there's no chance. Instead, he listens to the never ending stream of commentary coming out of Reece's mouth, and imagines the way his eyes rove over his body, cock hard, but purposefully ignored, face determined. He can feel his own cock leaking at the thought.

After what feels like years, Reece's fingers finally extract themselves from his hole. Steve has to stop himself from making a sad sound at the loss, but he knows what's coming next.

“And then, finally, he'll give it her. Hard and fast and cruel. And better than she's ever had before.”
Steve groans at the prospect. He feels the hand on his hip tighten in anticipation before the head of Reece's cock nudges against him, then enters him.
He's glad Reece has taken pity on him and doesn't start off hard and fast, but it is still cruel. Reece moves forward cruelly slowly and Steve has to concentrate on his breathing, trying not to let go too quickly. He's making humming noises he didn't realise he was capable of making.

At last, he can feel Reece's balls against his bum. Reece drapes himself over his back and gives a quick kiss to the base of his neck.
“All good?” It's a different tone than before. This is Reece, making sure Steve is okay, making sure Steve is as much into this as he is, making sure he wants to keep going.
“Fuck. Yes. Yes, Reece. Now move.”

Reece hums his approval, pushes himself up and pulls out almost all the way, both hands on Steve's hips. The next push is full force and Steve can't help the noises that escape him as Reece starts thrusting into him, the hands on his hips pulling him onto Reece's cock over and over.
Between gasps, Reece manages to say:
“Yes. She'd be loud. She wouldn't hold back her noises, even though he's not making any at all. And it would drive him absolutely wild.”
And Steve opens his mouth to say something snappy in return, but all that comes out are more moans. Reece repositions his hands on his hips and the thrusts become more powerful. The noise of skin on skin is obscene and suddenly Steve has a brief out of body experience.

He is looking at the both of them as if he's a third person in the room. Beautiful, beautiful Reece pounding into him. He feels beautiful too, knowing someone could be so turned on by his body and by him as a person. Maybe he'll let Reece do this again sometime, when he's feeling lazy or tired, or just when he wants it. The longer it goes on for, the more attractive he feels. Back in his body, he becomes aware of Reece above him, still talking, but not saying anything, his resolve slowly breaking.

“God. You're so warm,” a sharp intake of breath, “so delightful,” another breath, “I wish you could see yourself from here,” a gasp, “see how insanely hot you are,” a high moan, “god, I'm close.”
Steve's eyes are rolling back in his skull, and if the feeling in his lower stomach is anything to go by, he's also getting close.
Reece continues: “Do you think he'd come inside? Do you think he'd risk knocking her up? Maybe the risk would spur him on.”
His thrusts speed up, as if the risk is real and he's about to take it.
“Do you think he'd help her cum? Do you think he'd rub her clit? Do you think he'd get off on knowing he's making her see stars?” Reece is talking so fast now that even if Steve had wanted to, he wouldn't have been able to answer any of his questions.

One of Reece's hands lets go of his hip in order to hover just underneath Steve's cock. Steve can feel the heat of it, tantalisingly close to him. He wants Reece’s hand on him, wants the orgasm that seems so close, yet so far away, but he can't figure out how to form any existing words. For once in his life, he simply doesn't know the godforsaken phonemes needed to form a sentence with meaning. Too impatient to wait for Steve’s brain to get back online, Reece grabs hold of Steve's cock. The movements of his own hips mean he barely has to move his hand.
Steve shudders as he comes over Reece's hand, and, as they later realise, over one of the sofa cushions. Oh well, he'll just put that side underneath and no one will ever know.

Reece keeps thrusting through Steve's orgasm, until he too comes with a groan. He stills, squeezing Steve's hips before pulling out, feeling slightly delirious. Looking at Steve in front of him, he wonders if he looks this blissed out and dishevelled afterwards too.

After a couple of seconds of staring at the beautiful tableau in front of him, Reece grabs a tea towel off of the kitchen counter and uses it to clean both of them up a bit.
He pushes and pulls at Steve until he is lying on his back on the sofa, then lies down on top of him, ear on his chest, hearing the best of his heart slowly calm down.
“I don't think Ross would be this gentle with her afterwards,” Steve says shakily.
Reece is drawing shapes on Steve's chest with his finger and hums in agreement.
“You’re lucky that it's me and not him then.”
“Aren't I just.”

Chapter Text

An undetermined amount of time passes as they lie there, content and together. They joke around a little and then doze for a while. Eventually they get up, albeit reluctantly, because they're both getting hungry.
Reece cooks them dinner again, while Steve writes down the findings of the very important research they just did on the possibility of Ross and Pauline fucking, as well as some other thoughts he’s had during the day.

As Reece puts a plate of pasta in front of him, he feels like the luckiest man alive. He’s feeling rosy and sleepy from the amount of sun and attention he’s received today, and when he looks over at Reece, he too looks like he might nod off at any second.
“Let’s have an early night,” he proposes.
Reece nods with his mouth full of pasta, then puts a thumb up to emphasise his agreement.
They’re quiet through most of the rest of the meal, but it’s not awkward. It’s rarely awkward between them these days.

When they’ve both finished their food, Steve tidies the table and does the dishes, getting interrupted halfway through when Reece puts his arms around his waist and rests his head against his back. It’s sickeningly domestic and he isn’t sure how to respond to it, so he lets out a fart that makes Reece crumply to the ground in giggles. He then immediately regrets this, because he’s closer to the smell now.
He pretends to die -dramatically-, refusing to get up until Steve does his black magic on him (kissing him gently on the nose, forehead, cheeks and mouth).
“Death has energised me. Let's play a game before bed,” Reece says, eyes twinkling.
Steve considers him.
“... Like a board game? Or a sexy game?”
“Why not both?” Reece grins.
“What's the least sexy game you can think of?”
“Oh. Scrabble.”
“Okay let's make it sexy.”

Ten minutes later they've decided on the rules. It's normal Scrabble, but every time one of them puts down a word, they can accuse the other of not knowing what it means. If they're correct, the other has to remove an item of clothing. If they're wrong, they have to remove an item of clothing themselves.

It seemed like a great idea 15 minutes ago when they made it up, but sitting in only his pants and socks now, Reece is reconsidering his life choices. Steve's only had to remove one sock so far and Reece's getting bored.
Steve puts down the word 'carom' and Reece sighs. He knows he should bluff and pretend to know the word, but he simply cannot be bothered.He’s decided to take off an item of clothing before Steve has even asked him whether he knows the word..
Sock or pants? There's only one correct answer to that, of course. He stands up and without too much fuss, pulls his pants down. At the same time, Steve's eyebrows go up. Ha! He's winning at something at least.

From that point on, the game becomes a lot more enjoyable for Reece. It doesn't really matter what words he puts down, all he has to do is stretch a little, spread his legs just so, or scratch his inner thigh for a bit, and Steve can no longer answer when asked for the definition of any word. Soon, Steve is down to just his pants as well.

“Did we ever decide whether the actual Scrabble points mattered, or does one just lose when they're fully naked?”
“Great question, no clue. Let's do the second option,” Steve declares distractedly.
Reece nods, happy. He's had a quick look at the board and knows there's no chance he's winning based on points.He puts down hex and stretches obnoxiously.
“What's that mean, then?” he yawns.
Steve's mouth is hanging open and absolutely nothing seems to be happening behind his eyes. Reece grins.
“I win.”
Steve's mouth snaps shut and he sits up.
“Wait, no. Wait! I wasn't… what did you put down?”
“Toooo laaate,” he singsongs, “I've won. Take your pants off.”
He slides off his chair onto his knees in front of Steve. Eyes as big as they'll go.
“Consolation prize?”
Steve swallows and, with what seems to be a whole lot of effort, stands up, pulling Reece up with him.
“Yes, but only once we're in bed. I’ve got to make sure the winner also receives his prize.” He pulls Reece against him, squeezes his butt and revels in how perfectly it fits in his hand.

They hasten to the bathroom, Steve insisting they both have a shower after having gone for a swim in nature earlier in the day. Reece rolls his eyes at him, then immediately calls dibs on the first shower, nearly slipping as he gets in. He spends some time just enjoying the warm water, then uses an unnecessarily large amount of soap to wash himself, taking extra care to clean his cock and balls. If he's getting his prize, he wants the award ceremony to be enjoyable for all parties involved.
When he's done, they switch places; Reece brushes his teeth while Steve has his shower.
He considers helping Steve towel himself dry to speed things along, but decides against it. Instead opting for some good ol’ ogling. When Steve deems himself adequately dry, they make their way into the bedroom.
“Winner first?”
“We could do it simultaneously?”
“Ooh, I like your thinking!”
Steve lies down on the bed normally, head slightly below the pillow, inviting Reece to do the same. It's nice. They've done a lot today, they're not in a hurry. They kiss and fumble until Reece decides it's time. He turns himself around on the bed, head near Steve's knees.
He needs to move up the bed, but his feet are against the wall. It's a lot more admin than he had initially thought, but eventually they find a position that's comfortable for both of them. It's interesting, he's never looked at Steve's cock from this angle. It still makes him salivate, and if the audible swallow somewhere near his own crotch is anything to go by, Steve's having the same experience. He laps at the tip and is rewarded with a groan, before his own cock is swallowed whole in one go.

“Jeeeesus, Steve.”
He's holding onto Steve's thighs for dear life, fingers digging in, trying to cope, trying to think. What was he meant to be doing again?
Oh yeah, cock.
He opens his mouth and moves down Steve's cock as far as he can and he can feel rather than hear Steve’s moan at the sensation. They settle into the same rhythm and Reece feels like he’s being hypnotised. It's bizarre. Almost as if he's sucking his own dick. He's not sure anymore where he ends and Steve begins. It reminds him of that snake that eats its own tail. He's sure Steve would be able to give him more context, but Steve's mouth is a bit busy at the moment, thank God.
The rhythmic movements continue and it's fantastic. It's amazing and brilliant and all the other positive words Reece can remember right now. Giving and taking in perfect harmony. He feels worshipped and worships in return. He moans around Steve's cock and Steve bucks his hips in response. It sets off a weird sort of wave of actions and reactions, both becoming more and more responsive to what the other’s doing.
Reece feels Steve mumble something, and the vibrations around his cock almost send him over the edge. He swallows desperately, tightening his throat around Steve's dick. The thigh underneath his hand has started trembling, and he realises Steve’s mumbling was him letting Reece know he’s near.
He redoubles his efforts, swirling his tongue around, feeling every ridge, feeling Steve's pulse, feeling his orgasm approaching like a tsunamic wave. The taste of pre-cum on his tongue sends him over the edge, and Steve follows immediately behind him. They both swallow as well as they can manage, not wanting to break the circle. They both gently keep swirling their tongues, sucking on softening cocks until they're both so overstimulated they have to let go.
‘Come here,” Steve demands with his arms open, and with the last of his energy, Reece twists himself the right way up, into Steve's waiting arms. Within five minutes they're both snoring softly.

Chapter Text

They both wake up early on Sunday, feeling only a little guilty about the writing they've been mostly neglecting. Steve makes them both coffee while Reece scrambles some eggs.
They have back and forths about more characters and more storylines; ideas they'll probably never use. They discuss all possible things that might happen to existing characters. Charlie secretly has a thing for Judee, or maybe he turns out to be gay for Tony. Maybe Stella has a thing for Judee, and although Steve immediately gets a hard-on at the idea, he also acknowledges that it would be a nightmare to film for Reece. They ramble on as Reece sketches various scenarios.

They're having fun, and Steve can feel himself getting annoyed and a bit sad at the prospect of leaving. He's been enjoying this little bubble of just him and Reece, and doesn't feel thrilled at the thought of returning to London. He decides they better make the most of it while they still can.

“Is there anything you'd like to do in the next…”, Steve looks at his watch, “three and a half hours before we have to leave?”
Barely skipping a beat, Reece replies.
“Tie me up.”
For a second Steve thinks he might have misheard him, then he remembers who he's talking to, and of course that's what he wants, and of course he asks it only a few hours before they leave this idyllic place forever.
Reece is looking a bit concerned at how long it's taking Steve to respond, so without further ado Steve gets up.
“Yeah, alright. Any idea where we'll find some rope?”

It turns out there isn't any rope anywhere in the cabin, but Steve suddenly remembers a side pocket of his bag that holds a couple of ties (“why did you bring these?” Reece exclaims at the sight. “Just in case! You never know when you might need them!” “What, when you get invited to a gala organised by a cow?” “Stop complaining, or I'm not using them to tie you up.” “Sorry, sorry!”).

It's only when they're both standing in the bedroom that they realise the headboard is one solid plank of wood.
“Alright, okay, help me get the mattress off the bed, we're tying you to the bedposts on this side.”
They try not to look at the state of the bottom of the mattress while they move it.
Once it's on the floor, Steve finally gets to secure two lovely wrists. He takes his time, making sure the knots look pretty, are secure, and are comfortable.

When he's done, he steps back to admire his handiwork. Reece looks gorgeous like this. His back against the foot of the bed, arms outstretched. He'd taken his shirt off before getting tied up so it wouldn't get in the way later on, and his trousers sit low on his hips. For some reason, Steve finds this exhilarating, like a half unwrapped present. Reece's mouth is slightly open, his pupils dilated, looking back at him.

Steve sinks to his knees on the mattress in front of Reece, considering what his next step will be. This small God at his mercy, he muses, what a life. He sucks a hickey into Reece's hip, the other man squirming underneath him. His hands move to undo the button of his trousers, while his teeth bite softly at the tender skin of his lower belly. Normally Reece's hand would be on his head by now, caressing, guiding, pleading. He misses the contact, but softly groans at the thought of being able to do whatever he wants.

“Steve…” Reece's voice sounds small, and for a second Steve's afraid he's going to tell him he's not actually into this. His mouth makes an odd sucking noise as he lifts his head away from Reece's body to look at his face. He's met with a pleading expression, with a hint of… oh, embarrassment.
He hopes his clear display of attention is enough for Reece to explain himself, but Reece just blinks and swallows, eyes darting around the room.
Suddenly, Steve is unsure of himself.
“Not good?” He asks.
“Yes! I mean, no! No, very good. Love it, I just…” Reece takes a deep breath and trails off.
“You just…” Steve prompts him.
“I need to pee.” He says it quickly, as if it's something he's not supposed to say, as if he's ruining something.
“I see…”
For a second, Steve toys with the idea of keeping Reece there. Mildly uncomfortable, squirming, not able to do anything without Steve's permission and help… but perhaps that's too much. For today anyway.
He sits on his haunches, trying to keep his face from laughing, and failing.
“It's not funny!” Reece whines as he lets his head fall back against the footboard.
“It's a little bit funny,” Steve replies.
Lifting his head up again to glare daggers at him, Reece scowls.
“Can you untie me, please?”
“I don't know. What are you willing to give me in return?”
“I'll give you a promise that I won't piss the fucking bed if you untie me, dickhead.” Reece pulls at the restraints to emphasise his point.
“Hm, tempting offer, but I don't feel like I'm getting my money’s worth.”
“Steve! Come on!” He tries to sound angry and intimidating, or perhaps authoritative, but with his arms stretched out and his trousers still slightly tented, it just makes Steve laugh some more.
“Steeeeve.” He's back to whining now and Steve finds it extremely hot, but decides to take pity on him anyway.
He leans forward and unties Reece's wrists, aware of the grumpy eyes boring into the side of his head.
Reece doesn't even thank him as he gets up and races to the toilet.

Steve sits back against the bed and closes his eyes while he waits for the other man to return. To pass the time, he imagines Reece tied up more elaborately, more erotically. He imagines the little sounds he could elicit from his small God in that state, and presses the heel of his hand to his crotch. A groan escapes him.

He's unaware of Reece's return until his weight drops onto his thighs.
“I see you're getting started without me then.”
“That's on you,” he replies without opening his eyes, “You left me all hot and bothered with no idea of when you would return. It could've been yeaaars.”
Reece snorts. He's subconsciously started grinding himself on Steve's lap.
“I was gone for a minute and a half, love. Get a grip.” Steve can practically hear the eye roll that accompanies Reece's words.
“Yonks! Yonks and yonks. I could have died in the meantime.”
“Sure, buddy. Sure.”

They move in silence for a while, soft sounds occasionally escaping both of them as they move, both still in their trousers. The sensation of cloth against their cocks is simultaneously too much, and not enough.

“So, how are we feeling about retying those lovely wrists?” Steve asks eventually, his hands resting on Reece's hips, his thumbs on the slightly protruding bone there.
“If you promise to actually listen to me when I ask you to untie me, yes, please retie me.”
“Hm, yeah we probably should've talked about a safeword beforehand, anyway.”
Reece nods, and his eyes lose focus as he gets lost in thought.
“Egg salad,” he says after a while, like it's a completely logical thing to say.
“Excuse you?”
“The safeword. Let's make it egg salad.”
Steve moves his hands about in an exasperated kind of way, before letting them land on Reece's hips again.
“Yeah, you know what, that's so deeply unsexy, I'm sure it'll work.”

Not wanting to waste any more time, he snakes an arm around Reece's waist and topples both of them over. He manhandles Reece back into a sitting position against the foot of the bed and sits on top of him while he starts tying up one of his wrists. Reece thrashes a bit, out of shock more than anything, but when Steve looks back into his eyes, there's barely any blue left around his pupils. Reece is breathing heavily, his mouth open, pretty pink tongue on display, and suddenly Steve wants nothing more than to put his fingers in Reece's mouth. Feel the velvety texture of his tongue on his thumbs, before replacing them with his cock. He hums in pleasure at the thought as he ties Reece's other wrist to the bed hastily.

He looks at Reece's face again with a predatory look in his eyes, and Reece swallows audibly.
Steve grabs hold of his jaw with one hand, kissing his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, as his other hand makes its way into Reece's hair and pulls his head back a little. Almost automatically, Reece has opened his mouth again, like the world's prettiest pedal bin. Steve briefly wonders if Reece has any idea how insane he makes Steve feel when he's this pliable, this malleable. He probably does.

Steve twists the hand in Reece's jaw, so his thumb can press down on Reece's tongue. It’s hot, and wet, and if he thinks about it for too long, it becomes a little bit gross, but he can feel the texture of his tongue and the way Reece tries to swallow without closing his mouth and that’s really working for him.

“Suck on it,” he tries to say, and pit comes out as barely more than a growl, still, Reece happily obliges. It quickly becomes lewd as he hollows his cheeks and drool starts slowly trickling down his chin. His eyes bore into Steve’s, and despite the fact that he's made Reece do this, Steve isn’t entirely sure he’s the one in control.

To gain back some of the power, he pulls Reece's head further back by the hair and a wonderfully high-pitched moan reaches his ears. He takes his thumb out of Reece's mouth in order to undo Reece's trousers. Reece is gasping shakely at the sensation, the high breathy noises going straight to Steve's dick.
Reece kicks away his trousers once Steve's got them far enough down his legs and pulls at his restraints like he wants to use his hands.
He groans in frustration when he realises he can't reach. He can't reach Steve, who’s on his knees hovering over him. He can't reach himself, erection twitching inside his pants. Steve observes him, and feels like he could look at this man for the rest of his life without getting bored.

Steve presses a flat hand against the tented pants and Reece hisses in response, eyes fluttering closed of their own accord.
“You'll have to use your words to get what you want, my love,” Steve says, voice low and deliberate.
He moves his hand away from Reece's crotch again, and Reece whines at the loss. Steve repeats this action a couple of times, and Reece’s breath keeps catching no matter how often he does it.

Steve moves forward, cradling Reece's face in his hands. He nibbles on Reece's ear before murmuring: “as lovely as these sounds are, I'm not hearing any words. So I'm afraid I won't be able to help you out.”
Reece whines again, louder this time, and Steve just tuts.
“Words, love.”

He gets up onto his feet and takes his trousers and pants off in one swift motion. He's standing there, towering over Reece and strokes his cock a few times while deciding on the next step of his plan.
“You know how beautifully you just sucked my thumb? You're going to do that with my cock now, and then I'll decide if I can help you out as well.”
Reece scowls at him briefly, but opens his mouth acquiescently when Steve moves to guide his cock to his lips. One hand disappears into Reece's hair again, and Steve moans at the sight of Reece's tongue before it disappears behind his dick. He has to close his eyes to focus, before slowly starting to move his hips.

He speeds up and Reece makes a brief choking noise underneath him, before adjusting to the new pace. Steve knows what he wants to do after this, and makes sure he won't come just yet. Just to test Reece a little, he slides in slightly too far a couple times, feeling the walls of Reece's throat contract around him, and watches as Reece pulls on his restraints in response.
Reece's eyes are watering, but all it does is make them even brighter blue and Steve can't stand how goddamn beautiful the other man is. He fucks Reece's pretty, pretty mouth for a couple more seconds, before pulling out of his mouth with a pop. He mourns the loss immediately.

He admires Reece for a second while he catches his breath. Disheveled,.and flushed, and clearly insanely turned on. Neverending whimpers reach Steve's ears now that his dick is no longer blocking the sound, and Steve is sure he could come from these sounds alone if he concentrated hard enough, but he's got different plans.
He pulls Reece's pants off and kisses his legs, and there's a hopeful glint in Reece's eyes.
“You still haven't told me what you want, dear,” he says, breath ghosting over Reece's thighs.

He kisses the inside of his knee, waiting for an answer, but nothing comes, just more moans and breathing. It's like he's not just tied up, but gagged too. Well, there's an idea for next time… though it would be a shame to not be able to use that beautiful mouth of his. He's sure he'll find a solution. Reece is clearly unable to give him an answer at the moment, so while still making eye contact with him, he lifts Reece's legs off of the mattress, and puts both of them over one shoulder, making sure his knees are kept together.

It can't be comfortable for him, Steve thinks, the way he's sitting half upright, arms spread wide and with his legs in the air, but he's not complaining (for once) and he looks so, so pretty like this that Steve wonders if he could keep Reece like this forever.
Neither of them are breaking eye contact as Steve moves his hips forward from where he's now sat on his knees and pushes his dick between Reece's thighs. It's a little dry, and a little awkward, but it feels good to have Reece's strong thighs tightly around his cock. He moans as he moves forward, the head of his dick peeking out between Reece's legs from the other side. Reece finally looks away from his face to look at the tip of his cock between his own legs and he's sure it looks obscene from Reece's perspective. He moves his hips backwards, and the head disappears from view again.

He lets go of Reece's legs with one hand and feels around for the bottle of lube he's sure he put down somewhere earlier. When he finds it, he applies a generous amount on his cock before sliding back between Reece's thighs, all friction from before gone, but with the same warm tightness. He fucks between Reece's thighs, taking his pleasure, knowing that it must be torture for Reece to be this close to gratification without actually receiving it. Maybe it'll finally make him ask for something. He's ready to give him anything he wants.

The lewd sounds of his own moans, the slapping of skin on skin and Reece's breathing fill the silence.
It feels like hours, months, years even before Reece finally opens his mouth.
“Please.” His voice cracks.
Steve slows down, but doesn't stop moving.
“Please what?”
“Please!” It's properly desperate now and Reece drops his head back against the bed with a clonk.
“I'm still not hearing any requests, darling,” Steve pants, out of breath from the movement.
“Please, fuck me!” Reece all but shouts, “Fuck me. Up the ass. Now. Please and thank you!”

Steve does not need to be told twice.
He drops Reece's legs and moves between them, simultaneously groping for the lube again. He pushes a finger into Reece and Reece lets out a yelp that turns into a moan. Two fingers, three fingers and Reece is panting and writhing, wanting more, always more.
And so that's what Steve will give him.

Reece is sitting too upright to bend his legs to his chest and fuck into him, but he's too low down to make him sit on top of Steve and fuck into him that way, so they end up in an odd halfway position. Steve's legs are bent underneath him, with Reece half in his lap. It's difficult to thrust like this, but he’s determined to make it work.
At the first thrust, Reece's eyes roll back in his head and Steve realises that, bizarrely, this seems to be the perfect position to hit his prostate. He does it again, and again, and again, and the man in his lap turns to jelly. Shaking and moaning and completely oblivious to the world. Steve can feel a familiar feeling start to build in his stomach, and thinks he should probably help Reece out as well, but before he's figured out how to move his hand from under Reece's bum to Reece's cock, he comes with a high pitched cry. Steve keeps going, nearly there, nearly there, and then comes as well, clenching his teeth and shutting his eyes tightly as he does.

Once he's able to move again, he quickly releases one of Reece's wrists, before collapsing onto the mattress. It takes Reece a while to undo the other tie, and then Reece collapses on top of him. The weight of him is so familiar by now, it makes him feel even more warm and content than he's already feeling.
They catch their breath together, Steve's inhales coinciding with Reece's exhales and vice versa. He sluggishly feels around for his watch, wondering what time it is. After some halfhearted patting of the floor he finds it and brings it to his face. He sighs.
They should've left ten minutes ago.
“Reece, we need to go.”
“No.”
“Yes, come on.” He tries to sit up, but doesn't quite manage it with the dead weight on top of him.
“I don't wanna.”
“Me neither, buddy, but we have to.”
Reece huffs, but relents.

They tidy up the bedroom, making sure to grab everything they've strewn around the room the last couple of days. Steve grins every time he looks over at Reece, who still looks dazed and thoroughly fucked. It's a good look on him.

They leave the cabin 20 minutes later, after Steve's done an extra lap to make sure they've definitely packed everything back up.

“I think we should write something like this one day,” Reece says from the passenger seat. They've been on the round for about half an hour and Steve's just about to merge onto the motorway.
“What, a porn film?”
“No, no. Just… a couple going away for a weekend. Far removed from everyone and everything.”
Steve changes gears before answering.
“Sounds a bit boring compared to your usual stories, I'm afraid.”
“That's because I haven't told you the details yet.”
“Alright, go on.”
“So, hear me out. This couple goes away for a weekend to celebrate their anniversary. One of them is deeply in love, but it turns out the other is just pretending…”
“I hope that's not reflective of us.”
“I hope so too, dear. Anyway, one of them is secretly out for revenge and has been working on it for several years.”
“Sounds interesting, what's the revenge for?”
…

They keep talking, like they've always done and probably always will do, while they drive off into the setting sun, back to London. Back to normalcy, and Steve can't wait for their next weekend away. Hoping there'll never be a last weekend.