Glass -- New York, Friday Night

[killingsoftly]

They'd given them a park facing room, which was more than Devin had hoped for. He brushed his fingers over the cool glass of the doors, then stepped outside on the balcony, letting the sounds of the city wash over him. He took a sip of whiskey, smiling to himself as he watched the warm early evening light warm the buildings and the tops of the trees. It was warm and the air conditioner in the room kicked on in protest of the open door, but he just let it run, listening to the sounds of Warren in the room behind him.

Even now, the heat from their little game still lingered, flushing his cheeks. The whiskey in the glass was cool, but not cool enough. He was cursing himself that they only had one bed, but when he'd booked the gig, and the room, he hadn't expected Warren to be coming. He figured he'd be pursuing his other gig while here, but then the invitation spilled out and here they were. He wasn't coming down off a high. He'd slept a lot the last few days. He'd been eating. He wasn't fragile and out of it, and sharing that bed was likely to test his resolve to the limit, especially after the teasing.

He wasn't likely to sleep much.

But he didn't want to push Warren. The flirtation was delightful. The game moreso, but he was the one who wanted it to be more than just a game, not Warren. He had to remember that part and not push, no matter if that "later" teased at his memory. He slid fingers over glass and imagined briefly it was skin, then pushed those thoughts away. He could behave.

"Our reservation's at six." He called back over his shoulder, straightening even as he kept his gaze fixed on the people scurrying below, drinking in the life of the City. "We should probably leave by 530. It's just around the corner, less than half a mile. Walk or cab?"

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[killingsoftly.livejournal.com]

Electricity and heat prickled over Devin's skin when Warren touched. Warren's want called out to his need and he felt it spike again. Heat and desire and what was left of his conscious mind telling him no. Firmly. Too soon and too much all at once.

But it was strong enough to make him fall back on the floor, tugging Warren with him, not wanting to lose contact with him for an instant. He stretched his legs out, not really caring if he managed to untangle them from Warren's or not. His hand slid down Warren's spine, then back up to tangle in his hair as the heat flared up in his kiss and he made one of those little noises in the back of his throat.

[firebugwarren.livejournal.com]

There was a moment of awkward jarring 'oof' that broke at least some of it. Made it more uncertain and tentative and shy and pushed the swelling heat back. A moment where his knuckles scraped over the carpet and his knee hit the floor and threw him out of it.

Devin's fingers in his hair dragged him back in, the sound he made plucking along nerves he hadn't thought could be plucked and now a lot of things Devin had said made sense.

That, and the fact that now they were just about hip to hip and he could feel how much they both wanted. Could feel that familiar heat that had nothing to do with his powers. And everything to do with the small little smirk that pushed its way onto his lips onto Devin's and the need to hear more of those little noises. And the rocking slightly against him.

[killingsoftly.livejournal.com]

He really was trying to behave, mostly, but the rocking made him see stars and he moaned, soft and low and wanting as he rocked back. He pressed close which just made the ache worse and elicited an almost whimper in Warren's mouth.

The kiss took on a more breathless edge as his fingers tightened in Warren's hair. His other hand stroked over the silk of Warren's shirt, feeling the heat of skin underneath.

[firebugwarren.livejournal.com]

It should have felt strange but it was just pressure and body heat and it didn't feel strange at all, it felt exciting.

Devin was whimpering. He liked it when they did that.

He liked the pulling on his hair. The touches over his chest. All the little things that made him breathless and hard, and aggressive as he slid his body back against Devin's, teeth grazing over his lip.

[killingsoftly.livejournal.com]

Things were spiralling out of his control and he grasped at the pieces of himself to pull them back in. But it was so much easier to surrender, to melt into Warren, opening himself up.

Only that was harder, really. Heat. Pressure. Teeth and skin. All these pushed for one thing and one thing only. It was easy to moan again, sliding, hips rocking, searching for some sort of release from the climbing heat.

But Devin wanted more. More than a fuck on a hotel room floor. It was just a small thought in all the flames of lust around him and over his skin. But it was enough to make the slide more sensual. Enough that he did let that feeling thread around the spirals of lust. His hand gentled, stroking instead of pulling, and his lips slowed again to exploring caresses. His thumb circled Warren's hip softly.

"Warren..." Half of a moan, half of a wondering whisper as he pulled his lips free, sliding them along his jaw, settling against his neck, his hair, nuzzling, breathless and holding on tight.

[firebugwarren.livejournal.com]

Words. There were words and it wasn't distracting, it was good. His name sliding out from lips that were so soft, so sweet. The need fell back even as the heat persisted, his face flushed and a little wet.

And Devin was nuzzling softly at his cheek and he smiled, wondering, nuzzled back. His breath was coming in panting gasps just trying to regain a little of it from the kiss, but he wanted to, and did, soft touches somewhere between a kiss and just a brush of lips over his cheek. Emotion swelling.

There was still desire, from all the little noises, even the ones he was making now. From the way their bodies moved against each other but now it was tempered with an overpowering sense of newness, discovery, and heart. The pain in his chest was back, and welcome.

[killingsoftly.livejournal.com]

Devin slid his lips along Warren's jaw, tasting delicately, smiling against skin. His fingers stroked that soft hair, letting it slide. He was so hard, aching and wanting, but he thought, he hoped, he had control again.

He didn't stop moving though, not willing to lose contact, even that. Just small motions of his hips as he kissed the arch of Warren's neck, then back to his jaw, his lips. Soft and sweet and wondering. He broke the kiss to rest his forehead against Warren's, curling close to his chest, fingers still buried in his hair.

His voice was low, husky, wanting and wondering at the same time. "If we don't stop, I'm not going to be able to..." His hips pressed closer, sliding along the hard bulge in Warren's pants in emphasis.

[firebugwarren.livejournal.com]

He gasped at the movement, swallowing as it shuddered along nerves that were by now so very raw and he ached. It was almost enough to drown out what Devin was saying, but he forced himself back up out of the haze to pay attention. Listen.

He smiled a little, fingers smoothing automatically through Devin's hair as the words formed a sentence, or at least most of one.

"If we..."

The sentence started to coalesce. Don't stop. That was the important part until it hit him what they didn't want to stop, and then it all came crashing down. Lips and hips and tongues and his eyes flew wide open, scared, terrified, and guilt and he rolled off of Devin and slammed into the side of the bed, sitting up, sprawled.

"Oh my god..."

[killingsoftly.livejournal.com]

That was not the reaction he'd been hoping for. A 'then we'd better stop' or an 'I'm not ready' or a 'I don't want to stop,' though he'd figured that was unlikely. Not terror. Not that guilt-stricken look that said what they'd done was something wrong rather than a discovery that sent wonder shivering down his spine.

He looked just as stricken, pale and there was a shimmer of tears in his eyes. Pushing himself up to sitting, he automatcially curled in on himself, arms tight around his knees. He swallowed, and the warmth was gone in the freezing cold. He was surprised his teeth weren't chattering because he felt like his skin was ice.

"I thought..." He'd thought Warren was feeling the same as he was. "I'm..." He swallowed again, trying to find the words. "I'm sorry...I..." Misunderstood. But that had been Warren who'd kissed him. Warren who'd pressed into him and who he'd felt hard and wanting against him. But...

He closed his eyes, words just a whisper this time. "I'm sorry."

[firebugwarren.livejournal.com]

Warren didn't see at first, his eyes closed as he leaned back against the bed and tried to quash the feel of bile in his mouth. "Oh god..." he murmured. "I am such a bastard..."

But then Devin was whimpering and he opened his eyes, looked over. Flinched, hard, at the sight of Devin all curled up and miserable and the guilt slammed into him twice as hard. Twice a bastard.

He wasn't sure about even touching Devin but something had to be done. And if he couldn't control himself enough to... Never mind. This wasn't about him. He repeated it firmly in his head. This wasn't about him.

"Devin..." he crawled over and pulled the other man into his arms, holding on as tight as he could. "Devin, I'm sorry. It's not your fault. It's not at all your fault, it's mine. My stupid fault. I shouldn't have let this happen. It's not your fault." Words tripped out over themselves. "It's not your fault. You're wonderful, you're amazing. It's my fault, I'm a stupid, stupid bastard who doesn't deserve you. I'm sorry..."

[killingsoftly.livejournal.com]

There shouldn't be fault, something in his head screamed. Not for something that wonderful. Not even the sexual part of it, but the...them. Underneath it all and finding each other and holding on and how likely was that out of everyone in the world through time?

He leaned into Warren with something like relief that he wasn't shoving him away in disgust, arms tentatively slipping around him in return, but he couldn't stop the shivering.

It was all he could say, face buried in Warren's shoulder. "There shouldn't be fault. Not for something...I felt...I thought I felt...that you..." He needed to find coherent sentences. He pulled them together, words still very soft. "I've never felt like that from a kiss." From anything. "There shouldn't be fault for something like that."

[firebugwarren.livejournal.com]

Warren rubbed his hands along his arms, the way it almost seemed he'd always been doing. After a moment he hugged him tight, then kept one arm around him and kept the other hand rubbing over his shoulder, over his back.

"It's not that," he whispered, a little calmer. "It's not. It's not anything to do with that, because it's not ... it's not about that. That was ... wonderful. More than."

He sighed, pressed a kiss to Devin's forehead. He didn't have words to explain that part, and anyway he wanted to get through the bad stuff first.

"It's that, I shouldn't be here fooling around with you when I'm with someone else. Someone who... who I promised I wouldn't do this... I shouldn't be doing this. No matter how good it feels."

[killingsoftly.livejournal.com]

Right. The girl. He hadn't thought about her in quite some time, to be honest. Not that he thought about her often anyway except when forced to.

Now he was forced to. Forced to recognize, hear what Warren was saying, or at least part of it. It was too easy to just want to forget all of that. Pretend for a few minutes that Warren was his, not hers. That Warren wanted him as badly as he wanted him, and not just physically because he was exotic and different.

But nothing had changed, except that he'd left himself open to feeling this more sharply than before.

"I understand," he said softly, sitting up, letting go of his hold on Warren.

[firebugwarren.livejournal.com]

Warren frowned. That was too soft, too easy for Devin, when he'd been ...

His cheeks started to burn when he thought about what they'd been doing.

And then he'd been shaking, miserable, upset. And then this quiet? This calm acceptance, or at least what Warren figured was pseudo calm. The kind of stoic quiet that you pulled in on yourself when you thought you'd do something unfortunate if you didn't, or when you didn't want the other person to know what you were feeling, or both.

"Devin..." Warren let him go just far enough to keep a grip on his shoulders. "Are you..." No. 'Are you listening to me' didn't strike quite the right note.

"Are you hearing what I'm saying?" he asked, but softly. "It's not that it wasn't... amazing. Okay? Because it was. It's not that I don't want to, because I do..." He laughed, but it was a little too hysterical, and it came out breathy. "God. More than I should. I do. But..."

As often as he took after his father, it was his mother's words that came to him now. "Devin, how can you expect me to treat you, if this is how I treat her? Do you see? If ..." The guilt stabbed at him again. "If she can't trust me, how can you?" He didn't even trust himself right now.

[killingsoftly.livejournal.com]

Devin brushed the amazing aside a little. This was what he did. "I didn't mean to...make you want me." He'd tried before and it hadn't worked, but clearly this time it had. Or something.

But he did look up to give Warren a confused look. "I understand. You feel guilty, like you betrayed her. But it has nothing to do with how you treat me or whether I can trust you. I do trust you." He said the last, simply. He didn't have much left to hide now.

[firebugwarren.livejournal.com]

It was a strange feeling, for the first time he understood the idea that one's heart could, in fact, break. It felt like that, a cracking in his chest, like there should be some kind of audible popping sound. There wasn't, though. At least he didn't think there was.

"I don't trust myself," he said quietly, then, looking down only long enough to blink a few times till he thought he could speak again without breaking. "And I don't know how to ... I shouldn't have done that. Any of that. This isn't fair, I shouldn't have ... led you on like that. Like..."

And now he knew what Devin was going to think, because he was thinking it himself. "Not led you to believe that it was just the night, or the magic, or the alcohol, or whatever." One hand slid up to his cheek again. "It's not that. It's not any of that. It's just... It's moments. It's too many times I've been thinking just how this would be, when I didn't expect to. Like in the park. Or earlier tonight. And now... but it wasn't right. Not now, it shouldn't have been."

He wasn't making sense. At all. Warren took a deep breath, looked down, looked back up at Devin's with a look that was scared for whole other reasons now, pleading for him to understand. "I shouldn't have started something I knew I couldn't finish. That I'd feel horrible about later. It's not fair to anyone. And especially not to you. If .. all this. It should have been just about us. Not about anything else."

[killingsoftly.livejournal.com]

All the words about fairness to him made Devin frown a little, but touch he understood better, leaning into Warren's hand slightly.

"I pushed," he said, still so very quiet. "I promised I wouldn't, but I did. Pretending all night...knowing it was just pretend, but pushing it because it was..." He shook his head. "I wanted it too badly, and I knew..."

He took a deep breath. "I know you love her. That she's...And that this..."

He tried to muster a smile that only managed to be heartbreaking. "I shouldn't have started the game. That wasn't fair to you."

[firebugwarren.livejournal.com]

Gently, his thumb brushing tears that weren't falling from Devin's cheek. "Because we both wanted it to be true, even if it wasn't." He smiled a little. "It's not on you that I want both ... whatever the saying is. Both worlds. Even if you pushed, I didn't tell you to stop. I pushed back. And I shouldn't have been."

The smile hurt, too. Warren tugged him back into his arms, as gently as he could, not sure what he'd do if Devin pulled away entirely.

"That this...?" he asked, wondering what the rest of that was.

[killingsoftly.livejournal.com]

He looked just the slightest bit hopeful at the indication that Warren might have wanted them being together to be real. That part of him...wanted to be with Devin. He quashed it fairly quickly, though, because even if he did want that, it wasn't something the girl would allow, and whatever he felt for Devin wasn't what he felt for her.

He didn't have the strength of will to pull away again, not from the offered warmth.

"That this was just..." He shrugged. "Whatever it is to you. Curiosity. Fascination. Rebellion."

[firebugwarren.livejournal.com]

Warren stilled. His fingertips pressed into Devin where he held him. Something about the way he'd said that made him sick.

"Is that what you think this is?"

Deja vu all over again. He was having the same damn conversation all over again.

[killingsoftly.livejournal.com]

"I don't know what this is to you," Devin said with a touch of vehemence. of heat. "Not...not this part of it. I know we're friends. I know you care about me." He wanted to assure him of that. He did know that part.

"But this...the heat, the want, the feeling...I don't know what it means to you. What you want it to mean. What you want it to be. You keep telling me you're straight. You have a girlfriend. You're not into guys. You ask questions, curious, and I just...who better to satisfy your curiosity with than the friend you trust. But I don't know if that's what it is. Or if it's just me. What I do. And not something you consciously want, but that..." He shrugged, helplessly and he was not going to cry, but his voice was tight. "That I'm just...doing what I do and none of it is real."

[firebugwarren.livejournal.com]

Warren winced. They'd talked about that before and he hadn't meant...

He didn't let go, but he did slump down a bit, drooping his head against Devin's.

"That's not what I meant," he murmured. "That's..."

He was so confused. And tired.

"It's not just that. If it were just that, I'd've told you," he muttered. Sighed. "If it were just that it wouldn't be this intense. If it was just curiosity we wouldn't be on the floor like this. If it's just you..."

That was a good question, actually. He shook his head, trying to sort through his mind, what was him, what wasn't. His mental shields were in pieces.

"I'm not into guys. I was thinking ... Earlier, I was thinking about that in the theatre. It still confuses me how this happened. I don't know if there's ever going to be a clear answer to it. But I don't think it's just you doing what you do. I don't think it's magic. And I don't know what it is. It just sort of... happened. Not even tonight, this weekend, just. It happened. It's been happening."

[killingsoftly.livejournal.com]

Devin was nowhere near convinced it wasn't his magic, even if he hadn't been using it purposely. And he'd lost what "it" was somewhere between them. It had been happening for weeks, but what "it" was for Devin and what "it" was for Warren was still unclear.

He ventured a question, almost tentative, and if he hadn't been so on edge, he probably wouldn't have asked. "It's more than just physical?"

[firebugwarren.livejournal.com]

Warren sighed heavily, almost explosively. He leaned back until he realized that there was really nothing supporting him but the bed, and that was pretty damn uncomfortable.

"Dev..."

He pushed his fingers through Devin's hair, thought for a minute, and then pulled back to stand up. His hand slid down Devin's arm, curling his fingers around Devin's, gently tugging and hoping he stood with him.

"No, it's not just physical. Which is why it's so confusing."

[killingsoftly.livejournal.com]

Devin stood when urged. To stay on the floor would just be childish and petty and not serve any purpose except to annoy Warren.

He nodded a little. Why he wanted Warren physically was easy to figure out for him, but the emotional component was confusing and distressing. It wasn't quite the same thing, but he could relate a little.