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Scott watches Kip walk out the door. The click of the auto lock echos around the room, but doesn't manage to pull him out of his spiral. Instead, he remains where he's standing, arms braced on the island counter, head hanging off of his shoulders.
The exhale he releases comes out shakier than he cares to admit and the cold rushing through his body… With a deep sigh, he finally manages to pull himself away from the cold marble. He walks through his apartment aimlessly, no real idea of how long it's been since-
When he reaches his bedroom, Scott remembers he's still wearing his tux. It comes off in pieces. Tomorrow, he'll feel bad for not picking up after himself, especially when that tux is rumpled to hell and back. For now, it's all he can manage to even get the damn thing off of himself.
The room is too quiet. Too empty. Too…
"Fuck…"
His speech echoes around in his head. One he's given so many times before, but never in front of someone like Kip. Someone he cares for. Someone he… And just imagining it, hearing it for the first time, after everything…
"Fuck!"
Scott ends up sitting on the edge of the bed, hands pulling at his own hair with his elbows braced on his thighs. With his heart pounding in his chest, Scott forces air into his lungs, refusing to allow himself a complete breakdown. Not even as his thoughts continue to spiral. Kip's words replay in his head, his own responses sounding even more harsh and unyielding as he thinks them through.
A trip to the bar. Full of Kip's friends. For his birthday.
Yet the fear that Scott has never been able to swallow or face only continues to run his life and he starts to wonder if anything will ever change. If things will ever get better. He knows he has to fix this, has to find some way of making this right, but at the moment, he can't even manage to pull himself off of the bed.
An alarm blaring through the room is what ends up pulling Scott from his spiral with a jerk. Looking around, he finds the device sitting on his bedside table and wonders how or when it even ended up there. Pulling himself together, he reaches for it and silences the alarm, blinking hard when he remembers why he set it in the first place.
The cold from the night before (Scott can't even put together how many hours have passed since the door closed) only continues to seep into him as the morning progresses. Shower. Food. Stretches. Double checking his schedule.
Nothing stops the cold from burying itself into his bones.
There have been others. Nameless men from other countries that will never think twice about him. Men who didn't care what his name was, where he was from, what he did for a living. Men that served a purpose and nothing more.
He's not proud of that. Not truly, but it was enough to get by. To get him through the years, waiting for… something. Change? Bravery? Retirement and slipping into anonymity after ten or so years? Whatever he's been waiting for, he knows it's all been an illusion, a dream he's been building for himself. Not even a very good dream at this point, he tells himself.
The day passes, turning into the next and the next until
He's standing outside of a bar. One he's never been to before, only just managed to remember the name, how it feel from Kip's lips. Faces pass him on the sidewalk where he's found himself glued, staring in through dusty windows. All he would have to do is push his way through the door off to his left, step inside, step into the warmth he knows would be waiting for him if he did.
Pulling himself away, Scott forces himself to leave. To walk away. Even as the cold settles in around him, a familiar weight at this point.
The days only continue to pass.
Hockey fills every waking moment he has. It becomes the only thing truly keeping him going. Games, practices, flights, training… Scott pushes through, pushes himself harder and harder as the season slips past him. He stops passing by the smoothie shop on his runs after the first few months. Forces himself to stop looking up at empty seats every home game. Allows his blue socks to become buried in the bottom of his equipment bag.
Summer trips to European countries do nothing to warm him up.
Scott still finds himself visiting places he knows he will be safe to be himself. Places no one will care about his name, his face, his life. Hands reach for him. Fingers trail down his arms, his cheeks, tousle his hair, inviting him along. Scott never follows; not anymore. Not when he can barely feel anything through the cold that has become so familiar to him at this point.
"You doing ok, Scott?" Bennett asks him one day, once the season has started up.
Scott blinks, tearing his eyes away from his blank phone screen. "Yeah, doing good," he manages to respond. Even to his own ears his voice falls flat.
Bennett sighs. "If you say so, Cap."
Shaking his head, Scott stands and leaves the locker room, heading towards the ice to get a few laps in before practice. Gritting his teeth, Scott knows he's glowering as he skates around, knows his body language is throwing out all kinds of shit right now. He can't turn it off, can't shove the cold away, can't figure out a way to make all of this…
Scott plays harder than ever.
Even when he had smoothies and warmth and… He some how finds a way to play even better than then and his team feeds off of it. They stop looking at him as if they can see everything he's trying to hide, stop staring at him in the locker room when he shuts down for a moment.
Instead, they only manage to see what he wants them to see. What he forces the world to see from him. Pucks find the back of nets, bodies crumple against boards when he checks into them, and bruises and bashes go ignored. Games are won. Nights are quiet. Days blur.
None of it matters and yet Scott knows it all matters more than ever before.
He can feel the buzzing in his skin, can feel the growing sense of want he always gets as the season comes to a close. Adrenaline spikes before every game become the norm as their place in the standings only stays towards the top. There's a month left, a week, a game, and then-
"Playoff time, boys!"
He's surrounded by teammates celebrating. Plasters on the smile he knows he's supposed to be wearing right now. Drinks the champagne the ends up in his hands. Feels everything through the cold numbness he's become so accustomed to after the past few years. Finds himself going through the motions after every round they win with a ferocity he hasn't felt in years. It's a fire that burns through him, eating him alive even as it fails to thaw him.
"We're getting that cup this time," he hears himself tell Bennett one night as they sit in a hotel lounge.
"Fuck yeah we are." Bennett knocks his glass against Scott's as they continue to celebrate beating Boston and moving on towards the finals.
Scott care barely think about all of that right now.
For the first time in years, he can only think about pulling his phone out and texting that number he still has saved. Wants to ask, to beg, to plead. Needs to see his seats filled for this last stretch of home games, even if the person sitting in them wants nothing to do with him. Not that he could blame Kip after all of these years, not when he still hasn't found a way to be brave, to be himself, to be-
When he passes the stands during warm ups that first home game, he looks up.
Faces stare back at him, but something in him stutters when he notices there's no empty seats. When he notices familiar faces in the stands. When he…
Kip comes to all of the home games. The first two, the next one that sends them on to game 5, the last one… Scott looks for him every time, even if he can't quite bring himself to do anymore than that. Not even as every fiber of his being screams out at him to forget the games, forget the cup, just climb those stairs and say fuck it to all of this.
Instead, he plays even harder somehow.
When the final buzzer goes off, when the world slows to a stop before exploding around him, Scott closes his eyes. Breathes. Shatters.
Arms wrap around him from behind, hands push and shove against him front the front and side. His skates are moving, voices scream in his ears, and a grin so wide it hurts splits his face.
"We fucking did it!"
"It's ours, baby!"
"Cap, we finally-!"
The words blur together, along with the faces and the noise and all of it. Scott soaks in what he can, absorbs every moment, ignore the cold as much as he can. Awards are handed out and Scott dutifully skates over to smile and nod and shake hands with people as he waits for the one trophy he wants right now.
Scott poses for one more picture, one more moment of history, before finally getting his chance to lift the cup and-
He does his lip, arms shaking, ears ringing, adrenaline the only thing still keeping him going. It's the moment he's waited his entire career for, dreamed of since he was a child and… he never expected it to be so lonely.
The cup leaves his hands, moving on to the next guy on the team. Scott looks around, stands off to the side, watches as family members and more press pour onto the ice and the cold fills his chest. Always there, always present.
"Fuck," he whispers to himself.
Turning in a circle, Scott takes the stands in. Figures out where he is on the ice, which part of the stands he needs to look towards, and pushes off to skate in the right direction. He can feel his heart pounding as he makes up his mind. Fear threatens to overtake him, threatens to drag him down to the ice, but Scott can't listen to it. Not this time.
It takes him forever to get Kip's attention.
Take him even longer to get the man to move, to come down the stairs, to get over the boards.
"You don't have to do this," Kip says and it's the first thing Scott has heard him say in years.
"Yeah, I do," he replies.
Scott latches onto Kip, laces their fingers together as he carefully guides the other over the ice. Once they're both closer to the team, but still far enough away, Scott turns to Kip. Looks the man over. Feels his chest tighten.
"I love you so fucking much."
The words fall from Scott's mouth slowly and all at once. He barely waits for a response before pulling Kip into his arms. With a hand cupping Kip's face, another splayed against his back, Scott finally allows himself to be brave as he presses his lips against the other man's.
It's such a simple kiss.
One that shouldn't change the world and yet Scott knows it will. Will change his life. Change Kip's life. All he can do it steal another one, wrap his arms around Kip even harder, bury his face in the man's neck. Arms encircle him, hold him tightly, and he wishes he wasn't in skates that way Kip could reach him better. Especially as he starts to feel something warm in his chest.
Eventually, they part, and Scott tries to ignore the way the cold seeps back in almost immediately.
They celebrate. Make introductions. Smile and cheer with his teammates. The ones that know are the first to come over and say hi; the ones that don't either come over or don't. Scott doesn't let it bother him. Not today. Not when there are still fingers laced with his and more than enough happy glances their way to drown out all of the daggers staring at them booth.
Celebrations move towards the locker room and Scott finds himself having to part ways with Kip before he is ready to. It's been long enough at this point, but he finds himself needing to wait just a few more hours. Kip quickly agrees to wait at his place and it's the only thing that keeps Scott going.
He lasts as long as he can at the party.
Bennett eventually finds an opening for him though, a reason to duck out around two in the morning, and Scott gratefully takes it. "Go find your man," Bennett tells Scott. "We all deserve the chance to be around people we care about tonight."
Scott gives him a grateful smile before grabbing only what is absolutely important and calling a car as he makes his way through the tunnels. By the time he's made it back to his building, up to his apartment, he's shaking.
Facing his closed door, Scott stops.
Everything he's wanted is on the other side. Everything he's needed, missed, desired… It's all waiting for him. Or there could be nothing on the other side except for empty rooms and an empty life. He can feel his hands shaking. Can feel his legs turning to jello underneath him. Can feel the world seem to stop as it all waits for him to make a decision, to open the door.
Kip's there. Waiting for him. At the counter all over again.
Scott all but falls to his knees as he races across the room. Somehow, he manages to stop short, standing in front of Kip with what he knows has to be desperation shining through his eyes. "Hi," he croaks out after taking a deep, shaky breath.
A hand touches his cheek. There's a gentle brush against his skin. Scott shatters.
"Scott," Kip whispers as his legs finally give out and this time he does fall to his knees. "Hey, no, none of that."
Kip is on the floor next to him only moments later and Scott hears a broken sound fall from his lips as arms wrap around him. Fingers tangle in his hair and guide his head down until his face is buried against Kip's neck once again. Everything that's kept him going tonight, this past season, these years, leaves him in a rush and Scott finds he can no longer hold himself up. Not as Kip holds him up, taking on the weight Scott can no longer carry.
They stay on the floor for a long time; it's not until Scott's back starts to scream loudly enough at him that he remembers everything his body has been through this night alone. Not to mention the last few months of playoff hockey. As the ache brings him back to himself little by little, he starts to register the sound of Kip's voice.
"I've got you," he murmurs. "You did so great tonight. Played so well, and then… you were so brave, Scott. So brave."
Kip whispers to him over and over, pulling Scott back to the moment, back to them both. It takes mor effort than it should, but after a while, Scott finally manages to bring his arms up high enough to wrap around Kip. "I'm so sorry," he hears himself croak.
It's not the time. He knows it's not. He can't help but say the words right now. Needs the other man to know, needs him to hear it, hear just how much, how broken, how-
"It can wait, Scott. It can all wait," Kip replies.
While it might not be what Scott wanted to hear or was looking for, it's enough. It's enough for him to know he isn't being pushed away. Enough to allow himself to pull far enough away that he can look at Kip. Eyes latch on to his in an instant and Scott feels his well up immediately, mirrored by Kip's own shiny eyes.
"Let's get you off this floor, yeah?" Kip asks softly.
Scott nods.
It takes both of them to get him standing. Between the game, celebrating, racing here, the adrenaline crash… Scott's body is all but giving out on him and he finds himself barely holding his own body up. Kip never once leaves his side, keeps an arm wrapped tightly around his waist. When they get to the bedroom, Kip helps gets him settled on the edge of the bed and pulls away.
Scott reaches out and grabs for Kip before he can stop himself. Before he can say anything though, Kip caresses his cheek with his free hand. "Just going to go turn the shower on and get it warmed up, ok?"
He can feel his cheeks heating, embarrassed at his own actions. "Yeah," Scott whispers and he ducks his head and lets Kip's hand slide free of his own. "Sorry," he adds.
Lips press to the top of his head. "I'll be right back."
Scott watches Kip walk away. Logically, he knows the man isn't going dar. Can hear him moving around the bathroom That’s attached to the bedroom. Can hear the shower turning on and cabinets being opened. None of that stops the cold creeping across his skin, burrowing into his chest with every breath he takes alone in this room.
It's only moments, but moments is all it takes.
"…back to me? I'm right…"
"Scott…"
He's not sure what pulls him out of his spiral enough to see concerned filled eyes staring back at him. It could be the hand on his neck radiating more warmth than he can remember feeling in a long time. It could have been the panicked tinge coating the words falling from Kip's mouth that he can't bring himself to register.
It could be the voice in his own head, the one that whispers at him, calling his ridiculous, a flop, undeserving of the attention, of this man kneeling in front of him, a professional hockey player who makes millions having a breakdown-
"Scott," Kip says again.
"Hi," he croaks out.
Kip gives him a small, sad smile. "Come on," he murmurs before pulling on Scott's arms.
He lets himself be lead into the bathroom. Looking around, he sees the tub is filled, steam rising from it and a shiver courses through his body. Hands trace his body and Scott barely registers them moving towards the edge of his hoodie. There's a question on Kip's face, one he answers with a nod, and he feels that hoodie being tugged up and over his head.
Kip continues to undress him in the same slow, patient manner. Careful hands, a silent question, a nod, until Scott is left standing naked in the steam-filled room. Once his clothes have been set aside, Kip wastes no time pulling his own off and Scott feels his heart stutter at the sight.
It's one he thought he had lost for forever. The beauty and splendor of the man in front of him, nothing but a dream to him anymore. How could it be anything more after the way he had ruined everything? How could Scott have ever earned this sight again? How-
One hand tangles its fingers with his, another pressing against his chest. He's pulled and guided towards the tub, carefully pushed and maneuvered until he's settled inside of it. When Kip goes to lower himself in the tub next, Scott can't quite hold back the whine that builds instantly in his throat as Kip tries to sit in front of him.
To his credit, Kip doesn't say anything. Only pauses briefly before pulling back enough to change plans. Scott feels himself moving forward and giving Kip the room he needs to get into the tub behind him. Once he's settled, soft hands land on Scott's shoulders, guiding him until his back is pressed against Kip's chest.
It's not until arms wrap around him from behind that Scott finally starts to feel warmth seep into his body.
He can hardly feel the temperature of the water, not with how empty he feels. Cradled by Kip's body though, Scott feels something release, feels as if he can finally let go of something in his chest. He takes a deep breath which only causes him to relax more into the strong, yet ever so soft body that’s holding him up behind him.
"Scott-"
"I'm sorry," Scott squeezes out again. The words taste like ash in his mouth.
"No, we don't-"
"I… I should have been braver. For you. For me," Scott hears himself say. He can't stop them. "You gave me so much of yourself and the one time you asked for something from me, I-I couldn't… I g-gave up and- I d-don't blame you for leaving, I get it, I-"
"Scott."
Kip's voice is whisper soft, but it's enough to break Scott's spiral. The hand tightening in his hair, the other moving up until he feels wrapped up in the other man, slowly works to ground him. Tears fall down his cheeks. He can feel them, but he can't bring himself to care or be embarrassed by them.
Little by little, he can feel warmth start to spread through his body. Lips pressing against his shoulder, his neck, his cheek, radiate a heat that he feels could burn him with every touch. The world starts to come back to him in ways he hasn't felt in so long and it's almost too much. Leaves him shaking again, breath stuttering in his lungs, but Kip only continues to hold him through it all as if he can sense Scott just needs time to process it all.
The stay in the tub for a long time. Long enough the water grows cold around them. The first shiver he can feel from behind him as Scott pulling away, he need to care for Kip outweighing his own personal crap just enough in this moment. The dry off quickly and Scott allows himself to be pulled from the bathroom.
The sun is just starting to rise over the city skyline. Squinting against it, Scott tries to spare any energy to care that it's morning. Instead, he only watches as Kip reaches for the remote that will lower the light blocking blinds, once again allowing the room to settle into a much needed darkness only lit by the glow of a bedside lamp.
Scott is pushed towards the bed, helped under the covers, covered by his favorite blanket only Kip knows about. His gaze lands on the wall across from him and he allows his mind to wander as he stares at the blankness. He's reminded of another wall in his apartment, one he wanted to decorate, wanted to pick items out with only one person, a moment he failed in, a moment he-
Kip crawls into the bed, his face soon replacing the wall in front of Scott. "Hi," he whispers.
"Hi," Scott manages to reply.
Fingers graze his cheekbone just under his eye. He can feel himself being mapped, can feel Kip looking at every part of him. His eyes flutter at the sensation of being touched. It's the only thing he allows himself to have. He doesn't dare reach out, afraid of breaking this moment. Afraid of what he will find if he does.
"Scott," Kip whispers.
Those fingers move from his face to his hair, gliding between the strands. When nails scratch of his scalp Scott can feel his lips part as his eyes flutter closed again. Such simple touches, simple movements, and he can feel each one breaking him down.
"Scott," Kip says again.
He wants to answer. Wants to know what Kip needs. He struggles to find the words, to find the energy to even ask. Next to him, Kip moves carefully until his free hand is able to reach out towards Scott and fingers brush over his collarbone just as the ones in his hair tighten ever so slightly. Scott can't hold back the gasp, has no way of stopping it.
"Scott…"
From his collarbone to his face, sliding over his skin. Cupping his cheek, holding him in place as Kip moves closer, close enough to press his lips to Scott's. It's chaste. Sweet. And pulls a broken sound from Scott even as they press against him again.
"Kip," he groans with a broken sound.
"I'm here," the other man whispers before pressing closer to Scott and kissing him again.
Scott kisses back with a whimper in his throat. Allows his lips to be guided into opening enough for Kip to lick into him. Slipping from his hair, Kip's hand runs down, leaving a trail of fire on Scott's skin until it stops on his back, holding him in place even as it brands him.
Kip swallows down every sound Scott makes. Every cry, every whine, every whimper he can't hold back.
It's only kissing, only simple affection. Moments they shared so many times, and yet this time feels so much more. With a shaky hand, Scott finally allows himself to reach out for Kip, trailing his own fingers over Kip's skin until the other is gasping against him. The sound pulls a pained groan from Scott's chest and Kip uses it to his advantage.
Slipping his lips away, Kip starts to trail kisses over Scott's face, moving slowly down until he can latch his lips on Scott's neck. Nips and sucks pull more sounds from Scott, leave him feeling breathless and dizzy. It's too much, not enough, more than he can handle, more than-
When a stripe is licked up his neck in just the right spot, Scott hears himself cry out at the sensation, his skin hyper sensitive after not being touched for so long. Kip must be able to tell and keeps his touches soft, even when he does something that leaves Scott breathless.
Scott knows they need to talk. Need to get through everything before they can get back to where they were. Knows he needs to pull away and explain, apologize, sort things out, figure out what Kip wants to do now, needs to-
"Scott," Kip whispers against his skin. "Please, let me take care of you."
And who is he to deny Kip whatever he wants, especially after everything he did. "Please-" Scott pleads brokenly, knowing he's asking for too much and everything all at once.
It's all Kip needs.
In one quick movement, Kip manages to get Scott on his back and settles between his legs, leaning on one arm as he slowly lowers himself over Scott. Scott is dizzy in seconds, head thrown back on a gasp as Kip sets his body on fire. Everywhere they touch, their chests, their hips, where their legs tangle together, every touch builds until Scott's head is left spinning.
Scott just finds himself holding on.
Lips brush against his skin again. He can feel the touches on his neck and tracks them as they slowly move down his body. When his eyes slip closed, he lets them. It's too much, not enough, and the only thing he can do to hang on is take something away. When Kip's lips land on his collarbone followed by a nip, Scott whimpers. When those lips find his chest, brushing carefully, Scott takes a shaky breath.
Another gasp is torn out of him when Kip wraps his lips around a nipple, sucking gently, keeping his touches so soft still. Scott finally feels himself move, allows himself to reach for Kip, threads the fingers of a hand through silky strands and holds on as Kip continues to suck and nip at him. Scott shudders when those lips move to his other nipple, tongue licking and swirling over his skin.
"Kip," he breathes out raggedly.
"I've got you," Kip replies quickly. Scott doesn't even know what he's asking for anymore. Not as a soft hand lands on his stomach, trailing over his muscles. Those perfect lips follow, fire burning in their wake.
He can feel Kip moving lower and lower. Can feel the other's body shuffle down the bed, and his chest tightens as he forces himself to continue to breathe. Scott never dared to imagine he could have this again. At least, not with this man, not in this bed. Not ever really, if he's honest with himself.
Even when he pulled Kip down onto the ice, moments like these were so far from his mind. He's so lost in the feelings and sensations, drowning even as Kip anchors him, that he almost feels as if he's floating away even as he tries to memorize every moment of Kip's touch.
"Scott," Kip whispers and the word brushes over Scott's hip. "Open you're eyes, my love."
Inhaling slowly, Scott does as Kip asks, peeling his eyes open to find ones so full staring up at him. The sight leaves him even more dizzy. "Eyes one me, ok?"
"Yeah," Scott croaks.
How could he not look away now? Not when Kip lowers his head until his lips brush over Scott's groin. Those eyes never look away, even as a trail is licked over his skin and a hand slides up his inner thigh. Scott reflexively spreads his legs more, giving Kip more room to settle between them. He's rewarded with a stripe licked up the underside of his cock that he's all but ignored this entire time and it rips a sound straight from his chest out of him.
Scott barely has any time to register the sensation, can barely process just how hard he really is in this moment. Kip only rubs a hand over his thigh, trying to soothe even as he wraps his mouth around the head of Scott's cock, suckling at him gently and tearing another broken noise from the man as he does.
"Kip-!" Scott hears himself say. "Fuck, Kip, oh f-"
It's too much. It's not enough. It's everything and yet it's the simplest of touches, the softest blowjob he's ever gotten. Kip goes slow, allows Scott's cock to stretch his mouth carefully, and Scott is left breathless. Somehow, he manages to keep his eyes opened, manages to stay locked on to the ones still staring up at him. Even when they roll in his head, he peels them back open, not wanting to disappoint Kip - or miss a single moment of what is happening below.
Kip rewards him by wrapping a hand around Scott's cock, fingers brushing over sensitive skin with a reverence Scott doesn't even know if he will ever deserve. More and more of Scott's cock disappears in Kip's mouth as the other man continues to suck him down. Just as Scott feels like he's going to start begging, start asking for more than he should, Kip starts to bob his head.
That warm tongue presses against Scott with every pass, pushing in all of the right spots that leaves Scott panting in only moments. At some point, one of his hands grabs onto the bed sheets with a hard grip, the other scrambling closer to Kip, needing to touch him. It only settles once he finds that soft hair again, but he doesn't press, doesn't pull, only allows himself that careful touch.
When Kip speeds up, he starts to suck harder and Scott groans as he watches his cock move in and out of that perfect mouth. The wet sounds in the room build as Kip starts to grow sloppy, drool slipping between his lips and only adding to the mess he's creating against Scott's skin.
Just before it all becomes to much, before the pressure builds to a point he can't control it anymore, Scott takes a harsh breath. "Kip," he calls out, struggling to find more to say. "Kip, p-please, I n-need-"
Pulling off with a pop, Kip continues to stroke Scott's cock. "Talk to me, Scott," Kip whispers.
A loud groan fills the room. Scott's cock jerks in Kip's grip. "I… Please, I…"
Kip only waits, stroking him, watching him. He's so calm, so steady, as he breaks Scott down with every touch, every motion. "Tell me what you need."
Scott finally breaks eye contact as his head thrashes on the bed below him. He can't find the words, can't figure out how to tell Kip he needs everything. Whatever the man will give him, whatever he's allowed to ask for. When a hand runs over his abs, Scott shudders hard and a moan slips from his lips.
"Tell me, Scott."
There's a tinge of harshness in Kip's words this time. Nothing mean or demanding. Just enough of an edge that Scott opens his eyes again, drawn towards the tone. "Fuck, K-kip," he stammers. "I n-need you. Whatever you'll g-give me, whatever I c-can take, just please, t-touch me…"
Kip smiles softly at him. "I've got you. I'm right here."
Scott barely has enough time to nod before Kip is pulling away and the movement sends a shock of cold through Scott. Kip doesn't go far, doesn't leave his line of sight, but the missing touch leaves Scott shaking immediately and he knows he would be embarrassed under any other circumstances. In this moment however, it only pulls a whimper from him and his eyes slip closed again.
Kip moves around the room, the sounds so much louder in Scott's head than they probably actually are. It lets him know Kip is still here, still around even as he forces himself to not look for the other. The bed dipping again frees something in Scott's chest and he somehow manages to suck a deep breath in even before Kip slides careful fingers across his skin once more.
The touches ground him. Pull him back to the moment. Light him on fire all over again as soft hands nudge him until he's cradled against Kip's chest with his legs spread wide. That first touch of a lube slicked finger against his skin almost breaks him.
It's slower then they've ever gone before. Kip opens him slowly, checking in often even as he presses soft kisses against Scott's face. The room is quickly filled with the sounds falling from Scott's lips; groans, whimpers, pleas for more, all of it dropping at a rapid rate as Kip continues to move slowly and carefully.
Two fingers eventually curl, pressing against Scott in just the right place, and Scott's body jerks along with his cock. It's not long before it's steadily leaking against his stomach where it lays untouched. Scott's hair sticks to his forehead, his chest saws as he tries to suck in as much air as he can. His head spins as he is forced to feel things he thought he had lost and it's still not enough even as it pushes him closer to that edge.
Some part of him must give it away because he knows nothing that makes sense is coming out his mouth in this moment. Kip's fingers slip free, leaving Scott groaning and empty, his body wound tight. "Relax," Kip whispers and Scott wants to laugh at the idea that he could ever relax in this moment.
Finally, Kip presses in again, two fingers becoming three, more lube joining the growing mess on Scott's skin. Kip thrusts them softly, waiting for Scott to loosen up before he brushes them over that spot that leaves sparks dancing in Scott's eyes again. Once again, he's pushed towards that edge, brought right up to it, his body tightening at the sensation.
Kip pulls away again and Scott whines, hands scrabbling to grasp onto Kip. "P-please, please, pleas-"
His lips are caught, trapping his words in his mouth. He continues to beg anyways, his hips thrusting in the empty air, his whines making themselves heard even as Kip swallows each and every one of them. Another click, more lube, and Scott hears the sound of a hand sliding over skin.
Pulling away from the kiss, Scott watches as Kip strokes himself, a groan finally slipping from the other man. He can't tear his eyes away from the sight even as his body craves any kind of touch. His cock aches, his stretched hole clenches around nothing, but the promise of more has Scott waiting.
Kip doesn't make him wait long.
Scott thought lips and fingers were fire enough, but as Kip presses into him, filling him, pressing him into the bed, Scott realizes this is the true fire. Kip burns a path inside of him, one that grows slowly as Kip moves until he is fully seated inside of Scott. At this point, he stills, and Scott has to blink back rapidly building tears as his entire body is wrapped up in this man.
"I'm g-good," he hears himself murmur after a few deep breaths.
Fingers brush over his face at his words and he pulls his eyes open. Kip is there waiting for him. "Kip…"
Leaning down for a kiss, Kip presses his lips against Scott's before he finally starts to move his hips. It's slow at first, careful rocks that let Scott keep up, give him a chance to continue licking his way into Kip's mouth. It's not long before Kip's hips pick up the pace and Scott has to pull away to breathe.
His hands make their way around Kip, each one shaking hard as he allows himself a chance to hold Kip. One hand spreads over the other's back, the other finds the hair at the back of Kip's neck and he forces himself to not pull on the strands. A hand lands in his own hair, the other pushing against the headboard as Kip's hips pick up the pace even more.
Each snap, each press of Kip's cock inside of him, breaks Scott.
He can feel the tears sliding down his face. Can hear the sounds slipping from him and how broken they are.
Kip's name fills the air, torn from Scott's lips just as much as his cries are. Scott's cock is trapped between their bodies, leaking all over them, but Scott barely even registers how hard he is anymore. Not as Kip fills him, giving him something back that Scott still doesn't even know if he deserves. Scott uses his entire body to cradle Kip, his legs wrapping around the other man, his arms holding him close.
"Scott-" Kip groans above him, a gasp following.
He's getting close, Scott knows it. He starts to wonder if he is as well. He can barely tell, not with how much he's floating away at this point. His thoughts swirl in his heads, drowned out by everything he's feeling. Part of him knows he must be close, especially with how Kip is hitting him in all the right places with each thrust, his hips grinding his cock into him in the most perfect of ways.
It probably wouldn't even take much at this point. Feather light fingers wrapping around him, a quick stroke or two. Scott knows he would fall apart if that were to happen right now even with not being able to tell how close he is. Kip pants above him, his forehead pressed against Scott's own. Scott knows he needs to say something, needs to let Kip know it's ok, everything's alright, that he's-
"Fuck, Kip," he cries suddenly and those two words finally break the dam.
In seconds, Kip is pulling back just enough to grab onto Scott's hips, fingers gripping him hard. The new angle as Kip leaning back on his thighs, has his hips canting in a different way, has his cock sliding against Scott in a way that punches each breath out of him. His mouth is hanging open now, tears sliding faster down his cheeks as he fists the sheets, holding on as Kip picks up the pace.
"Scott," Kip gasps and Scott's eyes flick around until they lock back onto Kip's.
The second they do, a hand releases his hip and wraps around his cock, thumb spreading his mess around until Kip's hand glides smoothly and quickly over his over sensitive skin. It only takes a few strokes, a few more thrusts, before Scott's body tightens and his breath catches in his chest.
His name falling from Kip's lips once more is all it takes before Scott explodes in Kip's hands. He feels himself streak across his own chest, feels Kip's hips stutter as he spills inside of Scott. The sensation leaves him gasping, lungs sawing as they try to fill with air around the noises ripping out of him.
It seems to go on for forever, especially as he continues to gasp and shake.
Kip is shuddering above him. He can just feel it. Some part of him wants to reach out, wants to pull Kip into his arms, but Scott can't find the strength to lift his arms. When Kip slips out of him due to his cock softening, Scott can't hold back and cries out.
"I'm here, I'm here," Kip whispers even as he continues to pant.
Scott knows. Can feel hands still on him, legs pressing against his own. Can hear Kip's breaths. It's not enough to stop his shakes, to stop the cold he can already feel sinking in. Even with his head fuzzy, thoughts force their way into his mind, whispering to him in ways that causes more tears to slip from him.
"Scott?" Kip asks, but the sound of his voice does nothing to pull Scott out of his head. Not until Kip puts more effort behind the words, sharpening the edges of them until he has not choice but to hear them.
"Scott. Look at me."
He tries. He really does.
Eyes flicking around the room, he takes a moment to find Kip, but when he does, he's both terrified and grateful to find Kip staring back at him.
"I need you to listen to me, ok?" Kip waits until Scott finds the ability to nod. "I need to get us cleaned up. Need to make sure you eat and drink something. You played a game tonight and I know something else is going on, I know you might not want any of this, but it's going to happen. Ok?"
Scott can hear how much Kip is trying to be the stable one here in this moment. Can still hear the worry behind the words, see it in those eyes. Even as he shakes, his mind still telling him Kip is going to walk away and never come back, he forces himself to nod. Kip is right. He knows Kip is right.
It doesn't make the sight of Kip taking a deep breath and sliding off of the bed any easier.
He somehow finds a way to choke down the sound that tries to rip itself out of him. Keeps his breathing steady even as his heart tries to beat out of his chest as Kip moves towards the bathroom. The moment he's out of sight, Scott shuts his eyes, squeezing them tightly.
He's not coming back. Why would he, after all of this. He didn't ask for any of this… Doesn't deserve to put me back together…
The words swirl around in Scott's head, growing louder and louder the longer Kip stays in the bathroom. He doesn't know how long it's been. Can't seem to hold on to anything anymore. When his body tries to curl in on itself, it's only the ache in his bones and muscles from the game that force him to still. He's never… never… I…
Warmth.
A brush of fingers.
Scott gasps as he feels soft touches on his skin, something warm brushing over him, washing him carefully. It passes over his chest, his abs, fingers trailing behind. More passes around his groin, over his sensitive cock, down his thighs. Scott is panting again, an arm thrown over his face as the tears continue to fall hot and heavy down his face.
"I'm here, Scott," Kip whispers.
There are more words, so many of them they blend and blur together until all Scott can hear is the gentleness behind the words. The careful way Kip speaks each and every one of them. He's still shaking, tremors working their way down his legs and arms. Still can't quite catch his breath or stop the tears, but… With each word and each touch, Scott feels his mind slowing.
Fingers move back up his chest, sliding up his arm, until they can brush over the part of his cheek that’s not fully covered by his arm. Scott leans into the touch without fully thinking about it. Without thinking of how much he needs this, how afraid he is to show that. How it will break him if he ever loses it again.
"Oh, Scott…" Kip sighs, not unkindly. "I'm here, I'm right here."
A nod, small but noticeable. A thumb brushing just under his eye. His body, finally cooling off, shivering more than shaking now.
Kip notices, because of course he does.
"Do you think you can sit up a bit? Eat something for me?" And the way Kip asks, Scott knows he will find a way. Would find a way to do anything if only Kip asked him like that every time.
Groaning, Scott pushes down on the bed with his free arm. Lowers the one over his face to push himself up higher against the pillows and headboard. It takes more out of him than he has, but when he looks over and sees Kip's small smile, it's worth it.
Food appears, small bites he barely even registers. Sips of water. More food. Enough he knows his body will be able to keep going until he can stomach a real meal again. Each bite fed to him accompanied by a soft touch, a simple brush of fingers that leaves him doing whatever he can for more.
"Doing so good for me," Kip murmurs. "Just a little more, I think."
Scott nods. Chews and swallows. Drinks the water held out for him until the glass is empty. "Thanks," he croaks out finally, voice thick and scratchy.
Kip smiles softly.
A shudder runs through Scott's body and his eyes flutter as Kip reaches for him again. His hand is so warm, so soft, so reassuring as it runs down his arm. His breath gets caught as fingers lace with his own. He hears the whimper leave him before he has a chance to stop it, but at this point, he doesn't know if he would have.
Kip moves slowly. Carefully. Gives Scott a chance to read every move before actually moving.
It only takes moments, but soon enough, they are laying back on the bed again. Scott has two arms wrapped around him, his head resting on Kip's chest, squeezing. The thoughts slow to a stop. The cold seeps out of him again. The panic and fear start to leave him with every breath.
In their place, a tiredness so heavy he barely knows how's he's holding onto it, settles in his bones. Scott blinks slowly and realizes he needs to say something, do anything, before allowing himself to fall asleep. Needs…
"It's ok, Scott." A kiss is pressed against his head. "Rest, please. I'll be here. Right next to you, for as long as you need."
Somehow, the words stick this time.
The warmth spreading into his body sticks around. The shakes continue, but at a much more manageable rate. The voices die off. All except for the one above him, still whispering everything Scott needs to hear in this moment.
They have time.
They have chances to rebuild. To create again. To talk through it all. Another day.
Today, Scott needs this. Needs to feel anchored by a touch he's craved for so long. Craved in ways he didn't know he was capable of. Now that he has it, he can't lose it again.
When Kip's voice floats off, Scott doesn't know if it's him or Kip that falls asleep first. All he truly knows is it's the first sleep he's had in so long where he felt some kind of calm settle into his bones. And it's enough.
It's more than enough.
It's everything.