Pretend

He always did sleep on his side. I used to pretend I didn't love that about him. I used to pretend a lot of things. Now I know that's one of many defense mechanisms. A way to push people away. And I gotta tell you, it worked really fucking well.

I pushed him all the way to Philadelphia. He sleeps there, every night, on his side. I have no idea if it's alone or with ... I have no idea. It's none of my fucking business. I gave up that right. And I can pretend I don't care. I can still pretend a lot of things, but I can't pretend I don't want him.

Especially not now, when I'm so close.

I slip over to the side of the bed, shedding my socks and pants as I go. My boots are neatly by the front door. He'd probably not be too pleased if I tracked mud over his taupe rugs. Hell, he might not be too pleased that I'm here at all. I don't really see how that matters.

I quietly let out a sigh. There I go again. No, no-- don't face what you're feeling, Chris. Just hide it under a layer of sarcasm and cockiness. Then go ahead and pretend that didn't have anything to do with losing him.

I can't help myself. When I think that he's really gone, but I'm standing over him, watching him sleep... I can't help myself. I reach out and twist a lock of his perfect hair around my finger. Trusting, beautiful stupid man. Even though I pushed him and probably hurt him -- okay, definitely hurt him, although neither of us would ever admit it-- he still trusts me.

//'I'm moving, Cheli.'//
//'I'm not surprised.'//
//'...Well, yeah, but I just wanted to tell you.'//
//'Why's that, Ton? You think I won't notice you on the ice?'//
//'It's not that. It's... just... fuck it.'//
//'Sure thing. You can bet I'll notice ya. Good luck in Philly.'//
//'Chris?''//
//'Yah? I thought you left?'//
//'I wanted to give you something before I went.'//

At the time I listened for any kind of irony or sexuality in his voice. I was really hoping the 'something' he wanted to give me was a good-bye blow job. A see ya around screw. It wasn't anything quite so exciting-- it was a key. A dull, small, useless key.

Just in case.

In case of what? In case he was in Aruba with his boyfriend and needed me to water the plants? In case I was drunk after celebrating a win over the Flyers and needed a place to crash? Or in case I ever got a fucking clue and hoped that I was reading those pained and soulful eyes correctly all that time ago.

I pretend that he wanted me to come to him. Please, heaven, don't let me fooling myself again.

I tussle his hair, and his lips curve into a smile. I'm standing on one side of the bed, he's facing the other. Hovering above, I can see his smile fade in confusion when his eyes flutter open and see only dark space. So I tussle his hair again.

He turns over, as if in slow motion, to face me. The smile returns. He stays on his side. Whispering hoarsely, his voice seems to flow into the silence rather than breaking it, he asks, "How long have you been standing there?"

"Just a moment," I responded quietly. He could barely see me in the low light, and I could tell his eyes were taking a while to adjust. But I could see him just fine. Stray beams of moonlight illuminated strands of his hair and made his eyes and cheeks glow. He pushed himself up against the shams to try to get a handle on this odd moment. Straining, trying to study my face, wondering if this was a dream.

I didn't give him much time to wonder. I climbed into his bed, pulling the sheets down enough to reveal his bare chest, and laid my cheek against it. I could feel him spread his arms in an act of anti-aggression, but my eyes were already shut tight. I couldn't believe I was here, couldn't believe I was doing this.

Before he had the courage to touch me, maybe to make sure I was really there, he croaked out, "What are you doing, Cheli?"

I swallowed around the lump in my throat. Suddenly, I was so worried. "I don't know."

I felt him sigh, then he placed one hand on my back and the other sunk into my hair. He cradled my head as I layed against him, curled up next to him. Nothing's felt this right in a very, very long time.

Of course, I noticed that he was affected by my closeness immediately. I smiled to myself– poor, demure Tony. He was probably grateful to have piles of covers hiding any type of proof, afraid this moment would end too soon. It tore me up to know that I planted the seeds of that fear.

His hand clenched and smoothed my hair, alternating between rough and gentle in the most relaxing way, and he whispered comfortingly, "Don't worry, Chris."

My voice choked even as I cut him off, "What makes you think I'm worried?" Shit. I sounded almost angry, but Tony just sighed and continued to stroke my back. It wasn't that he `thought' it– he knew. So, he smiled, probably realizing this was a very odd relationship to have with a jackass like me, but then we always were different. `Fucked up' I think is the technical term.

Honestly, I had no way to know how he possibly would have responded to this invasion. The more I think about that, the more I'm wondering why I'm here. The more I'm thinking about how selfish I am to have shown up. I wanted so badly to pretend that I could get away with anything, and here he is now. Not only letting me get away with my ludicrous behavior, but actually comforting me for reasons he'll always be in the dark about.

My body responds to his touch on instinct, but my mind isn't as fortunate. I know I've caused Tony enough hurt and I had no idea how I could possibly answer for that, no idea why I thought I could be here. But he's so different –beautiful and strong no matter how much shit gets thrown at him– that there's no way to ever stop coming back. I want to tell him stupid things like I won't let anyone hurt him again or I'm a changed man.

I don't need to. Tony tightens his arms around me as if responding to my naively chivalrous words. Thankfully he won't have to hear me make a fool of myself in private tonight.

"I want you, Chris."

Did I pretend that he said that?

The air surrounding us thickens and I can feel Tony's heartbeat speed up as if he's afraid of the consequences. I'm not imagining it this time. Considering this, I rest my chin on his chest to look up at him. His normally soft eyes were set with an intensity that I could see right through: he was putting up a shield in case saying anything was a mistake.

At least, he was trying. He never did master how to get hard, no matter how I tried to teach him. It's an odd proud feeling I have knowing he was always the better man.

Idly tracing patterns on his side with my finger, I broke the silence. "Haven't you had enough disappointment?"

If I ever stopped being so combative, I'm sure I could find a way to treat him right.

"Actually, I'm a little afraid of disappointing you." Tony's reply was quick and there was a small laugh in there.

But it still made my eyes go wide. "How in the hell could you– Tony, you–."

"Yeah, yeah, I know, Chris. It's just been... it's been a lot, you know? And I mean, I might as well admit it. What do I have to lose?"

I have to press my mouth to his so that he doesn't say another word. His feelings were starting to worry me, and I couldn't sort out why and I don't want to. I want to find a way to prove so many things to him, and words just aren't going to cut it tonight. So when I pull back, I stay close to him. My mouth inches from his, our bodies beginning to connect, I quietly asked, "You want me?"

He nodded.

Sliding my left hand down his side to rest on his hip, I started kissing him again. I should just keep my mouth shut, I shouldn't do anything to make him think twice. But I've screwed up with him before and I owe him... something.

Nipping at his ear, I whisper, "You sure?"

Tony grabbed my face and crushed our mouths together. His tongue thrust into my mouth, probing every corner, sweeping over my teeth, basically making me even harder. I forgot how powerful this painfully sexy man could be. I guess sometimes he doesn't have the words either.

When our kiss broke, I buried my head against his shoulder. I needed to catch my breath or this would be over before it started. Tony wrapped his arms protectively around me, stroking my back. Turning my head, my cheek rested on his fuzzy chest, and I was momentarily lost on the gentle rise and fall of his chest, lulling me like the waves of an ocean.

My cock twitched, coming into contact with Tony's own straining member against my hip, and brought be back to the here and now. I caught Tony's eyes before letting my hand slide lower from his hip. Two things I know about Tony in bed—he sleeps on his side, and he sleeps in the nude.

If I get to name three things… well, I think you know where I'm going with this.

Closing my hand around his shaft, I enjoy the view of Tony's cheeks flushing. His breath leaves him in a surprised rush and caresses my shoulder. I want to lick every inch of his body. I want to pinch his nipples and hear him yell out in pleasure tinged with pain. I want to spend hours with his dick in my mouth. More than anything I want to pretend that there will be time for all that in a `later' that never seems to happen for Tony and I. I need to push those things off until later, because honestly –seeing him naked in the moonlight, my name already a moan on his lips—I don't think I can hold myself back.

I slink down his body and slide my hand down his cock, to the base, cradle his balls, then run a finger down his crease. As if we never missed a beat, he shifts his hips upward just as my fingertips reach his entrance.

Before I finger fuck him, I let him catch my eyes this time. His are a smokey blue that's making me smolder. I remember something he used to love and smile. I must trigger him, because he suddenly treats me to that sweet, slow smile he has. The one no one gets… the one I catch on him only when he's safe in his dreams. I twist my finger as it slides into him, rotating my wrist again as I pull it out.

Fire erupts behind Tony's eyes, and he gasps, "Again… please, Chris."

I'm more than happy to oblige. I continue to twist my finger inside of him before adding another. This becomes a little more tricky – the last thing I want to do is hurt him anymore. So, slowly, I rotate my entire hand while pushing two fingers into his ass.

The sounds Tony makes are indescribable and filling the room. Pre-cum beads at his cockhead, and begins to drip onto his stomach. He'll be ready for me so soon….

Leaning down to kiss him again, I let my tongue trace the outline of his lips. I have to savor every moment this time. Just as I pull away, a terrible thought pushes past my heart and forms on my lips.

"Why do you deal with me? I'm such a jerk..."

"Because I know who you really are." The silence hangs between us –but his sweet smile doesn't fade. Although we both seem still to me, I realize he must have shifted. I feel his ass pressing against my dick and I involuntarily shudder. He continues, "And besides... you have your moments. And they are that much sweeter."

In that moment, I start to push into him. He grunts as my tip pushes past the slightly relaxed ring of muscles. Staying connected to him, I push myself up and back on my knees. My hands rest on his hips and urge him to roll onto his side. As he slowly moves, my cockhead is pulled just enough to make me groan.

When I'm sure he's comfortable on his side, I reach for his ankle and ease his leg up. Holding his ankle in one hand, and bracing myself on the bed with the other, I lean forward. My shaft disappears inside of Tony. I'd be lying if I denied a wave of ecstasy engulfed me.

I believe he felt it to, because it was the next second that he pushed against me. Taking my cue, I pulled back slowly, letting him feel each inch disappear from his body before refilling him. Over and over. My heart thudded in my chest as I recognized our chemistry hadn't faded at all. I held his leg steady, he writhed on his side, and I sunk into him again and again.

His arms slid up the bed and gripped the underside of his pillow. Moaning my name, he held tight. I reached for his wrist, and his eyes shot open. Thank heaven he understood what I needed from him, because my body has moved beyond words. Tony slid his hand up his thigh and replaced my hand on his ankle. With the hand that had been bracing me, I took Tony's cock. My other hand wrapped around the base of my own dick.

I pulled out and let my hand settle at his base. As I pushed in, I twisted myself to enter at a different angle. I pulled my hand –slick with sweat—over Tony's shaft, twisting my wrist as I did. This was the method I set to drive him over the edge. It worked beautifully. I continued to churn myself within him and kept pulling him off, with a twist each time.

His fingernails sunk into the skin of his leg just as he licked his lips. He would have warned me, but his voice was lost in a hoarse cry of pleasure. Thick streams of cum –Tony's cum!—shot out and coated my hand, his stomach, sheets, and I think he managed to hit the bedside table.

Maybe he needed this as badly as I did. I'm going to let myself believe that.

Struggling to open his eyes, he managed to force them into slits. I know the image was blurred, but he watched as I raised my hand to my lips and sucked his seed off my fingers. At the taste, my balls clenched. Fuck, that was going to do it. Tony's taste is the most exquisitely addictive thing in the world, and one lick could send me over the edge.

I cried out for him while I pounded his ass, filling him with all I had.

A split second later I was exhausted trying to squelch the thought that I couldn't pretend all I had was even close to enough.

I fought it down and fought collapsing onto Tony. As gently as I could manage, I lowered his leg, placing a kiss to his now sore hip. He stayed on his side, arms limp in front of him, and let me slide up behind him.

Part of my mind screamed at me to run. But I knew how that would seem: like all I wanted was to get off. It wasn't all I wanted, but it was damn good. Now that it was over, I was scared again.

Tony reached for my hand and half of my fears dropped dead in the warmth of his touch. He pulled my hand over his waist and I snuggled closer to him. My dick was sticky with drying cum, but there was no way I was moving away.

He sighed, yawned, and mildly reprimanded me, "Don't go thinking again, Chris. Just get some rest, babe."

"I can't help it, Ton." I pressed my lips to his sweaty shoulder. "I can't just pretend I haven't … I … well--."

"Do you want to know what I want to pretend, Chris?"

I nodded. I know he felt the answer. The silence was thick and the lump in my throat was back.

"I want to pretend you'll be here in the morning."

All I can do is stroke his hair and bite my lip. For the first time since he woke up, he's turned away from me. It all aches so much, but I have to answer, "I want to pretend you never left."

"I want to pretend I never had to."

"Tony, you didn't have--"

"Shut up, Chris. Just... shut up." He squeezes his eyes so tightly that his laugh lines look pained.

I never was any good at figuring out where to draw the line between pretending and lying.

Tony, I love you.

I guess that's the line. I'll pretend I said it out loud, but I won't. He'll think it's a lie, and that will hurt him, even though he'll pretend he's just fine. When I wake up in the morning, I'm going to put on my clothes, walk down the stairs, put on my boots at the edge of his pristine taupe rug and get the fuck out of this city.

But for tonight, I'm going to let myself believe that he wanted this as much as I did. And I'm going to lie to myself that anything I do might start to make up for everything I did. I might even get to fool myself into believing any of this matters. But I won't try to convince Tony of any of that. The only thing I'll try on him is to touch him.

He's since turned his back to me. Laying on his side, facing away. The moon's fading glow highlights the lines of his toned arms. He looks like a sulking, drowsy angel. Tonight, I get to cuddle him like the treasure he is, so I take advantage and again press my lips against his skin. Tasting his sweat and warmth gives me the strength to say what I need to. Well, part of what I need to.

"Tony? I'll still be here when you wake up. I mean, if you want me to be."

I know he heard me, but he's pretending he's asleep. A soft smile on his lips grows as I wrap my arms around him. `I'll just pretend he answered,' I think as I pull the blankets up to cover our shoulders and shelter us from the rest of the world.