Page 165 of Homecoming

Tenny’s eyes flashed, one bright flare – fear, fury, a frenetic, violent burst of energy. “Because I can’t control it that way!” he said. Shouted. A gasp, really, hoarse and wild, but it seemed to echo – at least in Reese’s mind.

He felt dizzy, and remembered to take a breath, small and insufficient. “Why do you want to control–”

A stupid question, because he understood all too well the need to control one’s environment. It was the only way to maintain the upper hand; to complete an op successfully. This wasn’t an op, this was…

Tenny lashed out, suddenly. Reese had half-expected it. He got his hand up in time to block the punch thrown at his face – but not the low sucker-punch that caught him in the ribs.

It hurt; it knocked the breath from his lungs. But for all that it was a gentle blow. Tenny hadn’t meant to break anything, even if they were face-to-face, now, and Tenny was snarling at him audibly, and his breath came in sharp punches, hot on Reese’s face.

He pushed down the pain, twisted his hand, and caught Tenny’s wrist with it, gripped it hard. Tenny made a grab for his hair, and got a fist twisted up tight in it. Reese could pull away, but he’d lose a chunk of hair, and he didn’t think–

Tenny dragged him in, and then their mouths collided with a clack of teeth.

Reese felt his lip split. Tasted blood.

And then Tenny’s mouth softened, and he felt his own jaw go loose in automatic response. Even with a hand pulling painfully in his hair, and Tenny’s body bowed and tensed against his, the trust was immediate. Tenny licked into his mouth with a low, wounded noise, and then they were kissing hard, wet and raw, and hungry. Reese wasso hungryfor it.

He let go of Tenny’s wrist and gripped the front of his shirt instead, between the open halves of his cut; felt the pounding throb of his heartbeat through fabric and skin and heaving muscle.

Tenny’s fingers spasmed against his scalp, and he stepped backward, towing Reese with him by his hair. They reached the bed, stumbled, and Tenny fell back across it and dragged Reese down on top of him.

Reese flailed a second, getting his knees under him, finding his balance. Their mouths never broke apart. Reese couldn’t breathe, but he didn’t want to stop, licking into one another in turn, a push and pull, ebb and flow.

Tenny pushed his other hand into Reese’s hair, but gentle this time; holding his hair back, fingertips scratching at his scalp, holding him close. They closed, and pulled Reese back a little.

Their mouths came apart with an obscene sound, and they panted against one another.

Reese licked tender lips, and glanced down at him with glazed eyes – not at all prepared for the sight that greeted him.

As he watched, blinking his vision clear, Tenny’s face screwed up; he closed his eyes, and turned his face away, lips trembling.

Reese braced both hands on the mattress and pushed up on his arms, putting more space between them. Tenny let go of his hair with one hand, and pressed it over his own eyes, breath shuddering out of him in a full-body shiver.

“I don’t know,” he whispered. “I don’t know how to do this. I don’t want to feel this way.”

Reese took a few deep breaths, trying to get his thoughts together. He’d gotten hard shockingly fast, and he could feel that Tenny was in the same state, but Tenny sounded fragile and full of cracks, like he might cry, and that wasn’t something to be solved with their cocks out.

“You don’t want to feel what way?” he finally asked.

“You’re anidiot. I hate you.”

I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, Reese had thought, at first, up until he hadn’t thought that at all.

He shifted, so he could lay down on his side – heard Tenny take a few more unsteady breaths and curse softly, under his breath – and then reached for him. Gathered him up and pulled him close, so Tenny was on top of him, now. Put his arms round him, tight, the comfort of close compression, and guided his overheated face into his own throat with a hand on the back of his head.

“No,” Tenny said – whimpered. “No, no, no.” But he went unresisting as a doll, and he pushed his face hard into Reese’s pulse. Clutched at his shirt with both hands.

It felt natural to stroke his hair, slowly work the stiffness of pomade from the ends until it felt silky-soft and natural again.

Tenny’s breathing quieted after a few minutes; his shivering eased. When he spoke again, his voice sounded almost normal – but not the angry, cold voice he used out in the common room around the others. The tone he used when it was just the two of them, in the cigarette-scented aftermath of sex, once the girl of the evening had gone.

He said, “You were jealous tonight.”

“Yes.”

A beat passed. Tenny pushed up, just far enough so they could regard one another. His face was blotchy and pink, and his eyes were shiny, but his cheeks were dry, and he looked in-control again – if softer than normal. Unguarded.

Reese knew this was a rare mood, and he didn’t want to say the wrong thing for fear one of the many masks would return.

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