Maybe This Time

by Annabelle Jacobs

  Ryan reached for his coffee and took a long sip before answering. “Because I was happy with the way things were.”

  “Were you? I know I keep bringing it up, but last time—”

  Ryan cut him off before he could go there again. “I told you this was different. Fuck.” He ran a hand through his hair, tugging on the ends. “What do I do?”

  Silence. He imagined Josh going over it all in his mind and hoped he came up with something because Ryan’s head hurt thinking about it. Although that could just as easily be the beer. Rooting around the random shit on the coffee table, he grinned in triumph when he found a packet of ibuprofen with two left in. Perfect. He swallowed them down with a drink of coffee.

  “Okay. Was it a ‘relationship or nothing’ kind of talk? Is FWB definitely off the table now?”

  “I think so, I mean it wouldn’t be the same now anyway, would it?”

  “No, I guess not.” Another pause. “When you first met him, you would have been happy to see how things played out between you.”

  That was true, but, “I know, but then he quashed all those hopes, and I accepted that. I don’t know if I want it now.”

  “Well, that’s what you have to figure out. But maybe do it when you’re sober.”

  Ryan finished off his coffee and set the mug back on the table. “I’m not that drunk.”

  “Yeah, right.” Someone buzzed his door, startling him. “I think my pizza’s arrived. I’ll call you later.” He stood and walked over to let the pizza guy in the building.

  “Okay. Let me know how it goes,” Josh said.

  “Will do.”

  “And Ry?”

  Ryan had been about to end the call, so he quickly put it back to his ear again. “What?”

  “Give it some serious thought, yeah? I’m still not convinced that deep down you’re a friends-with-benefits kind of guy.”

  That got the eye roll it deserved. What does he know? “Bye, Josh.” He ended the call quickly, not giving Josh time to add anything else, but his words lingered, poking at Ryan as he walked into the kitchen to get another drink of water.

  Did I accept Matt’s rules because that’s all that was on offer? Was I really okay keeping things as they were? He’d been so sure, but now? Maybe Josh was right? Maybe he’d been kidding himself thinking he could do this and not get attached.

  With his back against the worktop, he closed his eyes for a second, wanting to block it all out. Thinking about it now seemed like far too much effort. In fact, what he fancied right then, was a nap.

  A sharp knock on the door jerked him upright. Pizza.

  After being in the pub all afternoon, Ryan probably stank of beer, but the delivery guy didn’t comment, just handed over his large Pepperoni Passion and left. God that smelt good.

  Five slices later and Ryan finally admitted defeat. With his stomach full to bursting, he stretched out on the sofa, unable to keep his eyes open any longer.

  Fuck.

  Ryan swallowed and winced at the dryness in his mouth and the furriness coating his teeth. Lovely. Opening his eyes, he blinked a couple of times to adjust to the dim light of his flat. How long have I been asleep?

  The pizza, water, and ibuprofen had gone some way to warding off a hangover, but as he gingerly sat up, the sharp insistent throb of a headache made itself known. A half glass of water sat on the coffee table, and Ryan reached for it, not even caring that it was room temperature by now. It took away some of the nastiness in his mouth, at least. His phone lay face down on the table, when he picked it up to check the time—Ten oh-five at night—he noticed two texts.

  One from Josh and one from Matt.

  Avoiding the one from Matt, because he was obviously a coward these days, Ryan opened Josh’s.

  Have you sobered up yet? Go talk to him.

  Ugh. He replied with Not yet and figured that would do as an answer to both questions.

  Matt’s text sat below Josh’s. Ryan couldn’t help but read it.

  Sorry I unloaded all that on you when you were drunk. Fancy coming up for a coffee tomorrow morning? We can talk about it again when both of us are sober. He’d only sent it about five minutes ago, just before Josh’s. That was probably what woke Ryan up.

  He stared at the message, as though it might change or disappear any second. Yes, he had been a little drunk when Matt met him in the pub, but he wasn’t now. Sweaty, smelly, and with a pounding head—but not drunk.

  Ryan had never been very patient.

  Not letting himself think about it any longer, he typed out a reply. Fancy a coffee now? Then added, Well, after I’ve showered.

  While he waited for Matt to reply, Ryan shuffled into the kitchen in search of more headache tablets. Should he have waited until the morning to talk to Matt? Too late now, anyway.

  His phone buzzed on the worktop.

  Yeah. That would be good. Come up when you’re ready.

  Right, then.

  Ryan swallowed down two paracetamols with another pint of water and then headed for the shower.

  The water helped clear his head, and after washing off the day’s grime and cleaning his teeth, he felt almost human again. His headache hadn’t gone entirely, but it had reduced to a dull ache. The problem he had now was what to wear. Normally, he’d put on a pair of boxers or pyjama bottoms, and an old T-shirt. But he couldn’t wear that up to Matt’s place, could he?

  Standing in front of his wardrobe in just a towel, Ryan eyed his clean jeans and tops. None of them appeared particularly appealing when the shower had left him relaxed and craving something comfy.

  Fuck it. Pyjamas it was.

  He didn’t even bother with shoes. Dressed in thick socks, plaid pyjama bottoms, and a soft, worn white T-shirt, Ryan grabbed his phone and his keys and headed upstairs to see Matt.

  Surprisingly, the nerves he’d expected to be feeling in abundance had yet to appear. His palms weren’t sweaty. His heart didn’t pound against his chest, urging him to turn around and flee. The closer he got to Matt’s door, his heart rate increased, but more in the form of excitement.

  Matt answered after the first knock. When he opened the door, he seemed uncharacteristically shy and uncertain.

  Is he that worried about what I’m going to say?

  Ryan almost kicked himself. Of course he was. Up until that moment, Ryan himself hadn’t known how he felt about it all. But standing in Matt’s doorway, seeing how nervous and unsure Matt was, everything clicked into place.

  His silver hair stuck up all over the place. It looked as though Matt had done nothing but run his hands through it for the past few hours. He drew his bottom lip between his teeth, clearly waiting for Ryan to either say something or go inside.

  “Hey,” Ryan managed with a small smile.

  “Hey.” Matt smiled back, tentative, as though afraid he might spook Ryan if he appeared too happy to see him. “Come in.”

  Also dressed in pyjamas, Matt stepped back against the wall to let Ryan past and into the flat. The soft-looking material clung to Matt’s hips, pulling taut across his groin and drawing Ryan’s gaze.

  Fuck. He wanted to get his hands all over Matt, press up close and—talking was overrated anyway.

  “Yes.” Ryan gently closed the door behind him and stepped into Matt’s space.

  Matt swallowed, his gaze never leaving Ryan’s. “Yes, what?”

  Ryan set his hands on Matt’s hips and stroked his thumbs over the flat planes of Matt’s stomach. The small hitch in his breathing made Ryan grin. “Yes, I like you too. Yes, I want to be together and see where this goes. Yes, I want to fuck you or you fuck me. Whatever.”

  Matt laughed, his smile now wide and happy. “Are you sure?”

  Ryan shuffled closer until his hips were flush with Matt’s. “Yeah.” The cotton of their pyjamas did little to hide their growing arousal, and Ryan pressed against him, eager for more. “One hundred percent.”

  “I had a big persuasive speech planned out.”

  “Di
d you?” Ryan kissed him, just a press of lips for now, but the touch sent a jolt of heat to his groin.

  Matt nodded and hummed in affirmation as he moved in for another, longer kiss. “Full of all the reasons why we’d be good together.”

  A roll of Ryan’s hips elicited a soft moan, and he ducked his head to kiss along Matt’s neck and hide his smile. “I’m sure they were very—” Kiss. “—valid—” Kiss. “—points.”

  Huffing out a laugh, Matt tilted his head to one side, and Ryan obliged by kissing along the exposed skin. “Struggling to remember them now.”

  “Good.” Ryan slid a hand in between them and palmed Matt’s dick through the cotton. “Might as well skip to the good parts.” Giving Matt one last kiss under his ear, Ryan then stepped back and slipped his fingers into the waistband of Matt’s pyjama bottoms. Then gave a little tug. “Come on.”

  Matt let him lead them into his bedroom. Each heated gaze that passed between them fanned the sparks of arousal until Ryan could barely stand to have his clothes still on. When they reached the side of the bed, he let go of Matt and quickly pulled his T-shirt over his head. Matt did the same.

  The pyjama bottoms—both obscenely tented—went next, and Ryan smirked when he discovered they’d both gone commando. With Matt’s cock proudly on display for him, it seemed only right to reach out and wrap his hand around it.

  Matt closed his eyes, his lip back between his teeth as Ryan slowly eased his hand up and down the shaft, loving the silky feel of it against his palm. Precome pooled at the tip, and Ryan swiped his thumb through it then brought it up to his mouth.

  Matt opened his eyes as Ryan’s lips closed around it. He hummed in appreciation, loving the way Matt’s pupils dilated as he watched. That small taste made him want more. Dropping to his knees on the thick carpet, Ryan took hold of the base of Matt’s cock and slowly fed it into his mouth. The heavy weight of it on his tongue made him moan, and a second later he felt Matt’s hand in his hair, holding on.

  Keeping up the torturously slow rhythm, Ryan sucked and licked until Matt’s grip on his hair verged on painful. Finally he tugged Ryan away with a muttered, “Stop, or I’ll come.”

  Licking his lips, Ryan looked up at him. “Isn’t that the idea?”

  Matt quirked an eyebrow. “I thought you wanted to fuck me?”

  “I do.” Ryan stood and stroked a finger along Matt’s hard length, keeping his touch light. “I can still do that if you come.”

  “I know.” Matt kissed him, chasing the flavour of himself on Ryan’s tongue. “But I’d rather come with you inside me.”

  “Yeah.” Ryan swallowed thickly, unable to resist reaching for his own cock and giving it a quick stroke. “Let’s do that.”

  Matt opened the top drawer in the cabinet next to his bed and threw a condom and lube on the pillow.

  Ryan glanced at them, then smirked. “Just the one? I think we can do better than that.”

  Laughing, Matt pointed at the drawer. “It’s right there. Hardly far to go.” He climbed onto the bed and lay back, propped up on his elbows. “How do you want me?”

  In answer, Ryan crawled on top of him, making space for himself between Matt’s thighs, and kissed him. His lean runner’s body stretched out beneath him, firm and long-limbed. Ryan ran his hands over strong shoulders, gripping tight as he ground against Matt, again and again, every brush of his length along Matt’s forcing his breath to catch.

  They lasted a couple more seconds, then Matt thrust the condom at him. “Get this on.”

  Grinning at his bossiness and the urgency in his tone, Ryan complied, sitting back on his knees. Matt shuffled back a bit further against the pillows and reached for the lube, snapping the lid open one-handed with practised ease. Ryan watched, condom forgotten in his hand, while Matt squirted lube on his fingers and then reached down between his legs. He rubbed a little over his hole, working the tip of a finger in, then seemingly satisfied, pushed two fingers inside himself. The soft drawn out sound he made went straight to Ryan’s cock.

  Swallowing around his suddenly dry mouth, Ryan couldn’t tear his gaze away from Matt’s fingers—slowly fucking in and out of his arse.

  Only Matt’s strained “Ryan” got him moving.

  He made quick work of the condom, then grabbed the lube, liberally coating himself. Matt had shoved a pillow under his hips and now waited, thighs spread, with a filthy grin in place. Ryan needed no more invitation than that. He shuffled forward on his knees and held the head of his cock at Matt’s entrance. “Ready?”

  “Yeah.”

  Ryan looked down, not wanting to miss the way Matt’s body opened up for him. Slowly he pushed forward, not stopping until he was all the way inside. “Fuck.” He closed his eyes and concentrated on not coming right away. It had been a while since he’d fucked someone, and God, he’d forgotten how good it felt.

  “Move.” Matt ran his hands up Ryan’s arms to his shoulders and tugged him down for a kiss—his mouth hot and demanding.

  His grip tightened as Ryan pulled his hips back a little, before sliding back in, again and again. Each thrust a little harder, faster, pleasure coursing through his body and taking him that bit closer to the edge. Dropping down onto his elbows, Ryan buried his head in the crook of Matt’s neck and breathed in the subtle scent of his aftershave. Light stubble tickled his cheek, and he kissed the base of Matt’s throat, loving the soft scratch against his lips and tongue.

  Matt moaned, wrapped his legs around Ryan’s back, and tilted his head a little to the side, giving Ryan more access. His cock lay trapped between them, smearing precome over Ryan’s belly as he fucked Matt for all he was worth.

  “Need to….” Reaching down, Matt wormed a hand between them and started to stroke himself.

  Ryan tried to hold on, wanting Matt to come first so he could feel it, but his balls were already drawing up, and no will in the world was holding his orgasm back. He thrust in deep, his whole body tensing as he came, vaguely aware of Matt’s hand still working his cock.

  Matt shuddered underneath him, body tightening as he climaxed, and the sensation sent another shiver of pleasure down Ryan’s spine.

  With his arms beginning to ache, Ryan carefully pulled out and rolled onto his back with a heavy sigh. After taking care of the condom, he glanced over to find Matt watching him, eyes heavy-lidded, and wearing a satisfied smirk.

  “I’m glad we talked this through.”

  Ryan laughed. “Me too. We should definitely talk more often.”

  Matt’s smile widened, and he shifted onto his side, grimacing at the mess on his stomach. “Shit, pass me some of those tissues.” Ryan handed them over, taking a few to clean himself up with too. “Seriously, though. Are we good? Do we need to discuss anything?”

  With his muscles pleasantly aching and the afterglow of orgasm still clinging to him, one of the last things Ryan wanted to do was talk about anything. Truth be told, he hadn’t fully recovered from his afternoon drinking. “We’re good. No need for discussion.” He yawned, big and wide, barely managing to get a hand over his mouth in time. “Sorry.”

  Matt poked him in the side. “I guess an afternoon in the pub has that effect.” He trailed his fingers lower along the ridge of Ryan’s hipbone, stopping just shy of his cock.

  “Hmm….” Ryan closed his eyes and settled into the pillow. “Give me thirty minutes. And then you can fuck me.”

  Matt shuffled close enough to whisper in his ear. “Stay the night, then we can take our time.” He twined his fingers with Ryan’s and Ryan smiled.

  “Sounds perfect.”

  As much as he hated to admit it, Josh had been right. Ryan wasn’t the friends-with-benefits kind of guy he’d tried to pretend he was. He snuggled closer, nudging his feet next to Matt’s and resting his head on Matt’s shoulder. When Matt slipped an arm around him and tucked him in close, Ryan let out a happy sigh.

  This was perfect

  Epilogue

  Five months later

  F
reshly showered, Ryan pulled on his pyjama bottoms, T-shirt, and thick socks. Running with Matt always left him knackered, but thanks to doing it at least twice a week for the last six months, he could keep up now and run at Matt’s pace.

  The late September weather was too mild to have the heating on yet, but cool enough to warrant a hoody. Ryan grabbed his off the back of the sofa and slipped it on as he glanced around trying to spot his keys.

  He spied them on the floor in front of the TV, but before he had a chance to get them, his phone chimed with a text. Ryan knew who it would be before he glanced at the screen.

  Matt.

  Are you coming up or what?

  After bending to scoop up his keys, Ryan headed towards his front door, typing a reply as he went.

  Yes, ffs. On my way. As he hit Send, Ryan realised he was frowning down at his phone. He’d been in a shit mood ever since leaving work. A run normally made him feel great, but today it hadn’t been enough to snap him out of it. Even the prospect of a night with Matt wasn’t working.

  Stopping in front of the door, he took in a deep breath and let it back out slowly, attempting to find some sort of happy place. Matt had done nothing at all to warrant Ryan going up there in an arse. Feeling slightly better, he left his flat and headed upstairs.

  Matt greeted him at the door with a warm smile and a kiss that left Ryan more than a little breathless.

  He slipped his arms around Matt’s waist and rested his head on Matt’s shoulder for a second. “God, I needed that.”

  “I thought you were a bit tense on our run. Something happen at work?”

  Ryan shrugged. “Kind of, but I really don’t want to think about it now.” He gave Matt a squeeze, then slid his hands lower until they found Matt’s arse cheeks. “You can take my mind off it later with awesome sex, but first let me into the kitchen because whatever you’ve cooked smells amazing.”

  They’d fallen into a routine—one which Ryan thought was awesome—that Matt would cook after they ran together. Partly because Ryan was shit at cooking in comparison, but also because Matt liked to show off whatever new recipe he’d discovered while watching the Food Network—a fact Matt strongly denied, but Ryan knew better. He’d seen the programs saved on Matt’s Sky+ box.