Langly and Byers sat in the offices of the Lone Gunman, immersed respectively in computer code and reports. Frohike had left hours ago, and a sociable silence had since descended, page turning, keyboard clicking and breathing blended.
The lights went out. "Damn! Tell me you saved, tell me--Yes!" Langly watched the LEDs blink. "How long you think the power will be down?"
Byers didn't answer. A flashlight went on after a couple of minutes. Brown outs weren't uncommon. "I'll get the candles."
"Lot of good that does me." Their UPS was just able to cycle off all their systems. Langly's bitch about electronics-compatible generators was bit off as Byers returned, face illuminated by the lit candles he held. Breathing took all his concentration.
Byers found a safe place to set the candles down, straightening up around them further. He picked up his reading.
Langly got control of himself, if thinking of stripping Byers was control. A tangle of 'Let's fuck' and 'Narc' had been his first thought on seeing Byers at the long ago expo. He'd kept thinking the first, and fumbling about to get Byers into the sack. 'Narc' had almost become a pet name.
Bored and horny, Langly moved over to read the reports. Byers smelled good. The reports were pretty boring, but reading them over Byers' shoulder was anything but. It'd be easy to wrap his arms around the suit jacket and bury his face at Byers' neck. Instead he read, trying to ignore that he was nearly cheek to bearded cheek with Byers.
Ignoring wasn't working. They had dug themselves in so deep in their search for the truth, that digging themselves out wasn't even a thought any more. Every day was less certain than the last. Langly cupped Byers' cheek and turned his head, leaning in to kiss him.
Byers stared in confusion, and found himself being kissed again, Langly now in front of him, the table at their side. He couldn't think what had brought this on, or why he was letting it happen. His hands went up to the t-shirt covered shoulders, not pushing them away, not clutching them.
Langly eased them closer, running his hands over the suit back. Reality was so... He couldn't rush this. Years of waiting had also taught him a few things about Byers, and having this much, he was not going to fuck up. No restart, no save, this was keeps and he planned to max it out.
Byers leaned forward, a bit surprised at the solid chest that met his. A tongue ventured into his open mouth. He pulled at Langly, clutching him as he made his own explorations.
Langly ransacked his brain for a way to get them horizontal. Upstairs was way too far, they needed to get naked now. The couch was clear. He pulled at Byers' shirt tails and slid his hand down the suit pants' front.
Byers pulled Langly's hands up, above his belt. He pushed his hands under the t-shirt, up Langly's back and over his chest.
"Yeah." He picked at Byers' buttons haphazardly, just wanting them naked and on the couch. He hoped that was the plan, that Byers wasn't a tease. The jacket fell.
Byers peeled off Langly's t-shirt and flung it away from the light. He undid the few of his own buttons that were still fastened.
Langly pulled Byers' vest and shirt off, only to be frustrated by the undershirt. He undid his jeans' zipper, and tried again with Byers.
Byers pulled Langly's hands back up, before unbuckling his belt and opening his pants.
Langly threw the undershirt and pushed them to the couch. Nothing was happening before they screwed; no aliens, no stormtroopers. He struggled out of his jeans, loathe to lose hold of Byers. He'd thought a lot about this, them naked together. He'd not thought about Byers' thumb running along his ear. Everything slowed; he didn't want to miss anything.
Byers stroked at Langly's hair, lost in the sensations of them naked against each other. He kissed him over and over, lighting one kiss from another, barely breathing. He pulled Langly's hands up, above his waist, drawing them closer. His hands grew more sure, his body eager, and he tangled with Langly kinetically.
Langly moaned as they ground together, frustrated that Byers kept redirecting his hands. Not that this wasn't the best anyway. He rubbed his hand across Byers' beard.
Byers covered Langly's hand, stroking his fingers between Langly's. He moved his other hand between their chests, kneading at Langly.
"Yes!" It was more of a moan than a word, as the heel of Byers' hand rubbed over his nipple. He cupped Byers' face, catching Byers' fingers between his own. He moaned again as Byers' kissed his thumb and caught it with his teeth. Byers kissed down Langly's thumb to his wrist and into his palm, before moving his hand from Langly's to his chest.
"Yeah. Oh, yeah." Langly slid his hand from Byers' cheek to the back of his head, while his other hand clutched Byers' ass. He couldn't catch his breath, and pulled them tighter together, locking their mouths, meshing their hips.
"Yes, yes, YES!!" Langly arched and slumped into Byers, sated and amazed. His fingers stroked Byers' hair and slid down his neck onto his back. Byers really knew how to kiss. It was hard to believe, even with him in his arms, how great Byers... They'd fucked. He'd wanted this for years, never believing it would happen. Byers had been hot. He wanted him again. The couch was small but they could sleep on it.
Fuck the Conspiracy. He wouldn't let Them take this away. No, he needed years and years to screw and sleep with John. Yeah, holding him, kissing him, going over floor plans. They were good, they'd chip away at one plot after another, put the Consortium on the run. Increase circulation. Not have to run so much.
He was drifting into his omnipotent sleepy musings when he noticed John stiffen in his arms, shrinking away and shaking. "John?" He eased his hands up Byers' back, wishing he knew where his glasses were. "You okay?" He was going to take the non-answer as a no.
"How about a shower? Better use the hot water before it goes cold. I'll wash your back." He'd need to grab the candles, as he couldn't see the flashlight. His thumb rubbed back and forth between Byers' shoulder blade and neck.
"Shower. Yes."
Langly sat up, pushing clothes away with his feet before giving Byers a hand out of the couch and reaching for the candles. He directed him upstairs, and into the bathroom. Good thing Byers was such a neat freak, he didn't have to worry about the candles setting any laundry on fire. He turned on the water. It'd have to be a quick shower.
Once the cold water was gone he pulled Byers into the primitive shower, and handed him the soap. He lost a few seconds watching Byers rub the bar between his hands. Lucky soap.
Langly grabbed his shampoo and started on Byers' hair. His hands slid through the short hair as he carefully controlled the lather. He'd do this again, soon. He hoped he would. He directed Byers under the water, shielding his eyes as he rinsed his hair. Langly urged Byers forward, and closed his hand on the soap.
"Here, I'm going to wash your back." Langly gave himself a quick lathering before soaping Byers' back. The water was bound to go cold any moment, and he started rinsing them. Cold! He wrenched off the water. He reached around for a towel, draping it over Byers' shoulders. Langly used the ends to dry Byers hair.
Byers grabbed the towel as Langly rubbed it against his chest. He dried his beard and then the rest of himself.
"Better?" Langly hung up the towel he'd used, and held his hand out for Byers'. "Um, the power may be off for the night. Maybe we should conserve heat?" He thought he saw indecision. "You know you're cold." He placed a hand on Byers shoulder. "Come on, stop standing around."
Byers turned and walked out heading for his room. Langly grabbed the candles and followed. He followed Byers into his room, where he was pulling out and putting on pyjamas. Langly was past concerned and well onto worried. Byers wasn't this quiet, not like this. He sat the candles on the cheap, tidy dresser. "Should I stay with you?" Langly stepped closer, finally touching Byers cheek. He released his breath as
Byers leaned into his hand. He wrapped himself around Byers.
"Let's go to bed," Byers said. He pulled back the covers and got in after Langly, laying on his back. As strange as this was, it wasn't as strange as it should be. Langly was naked in his bed, leaning against him. Their clothes were tangled together downstairs. He should have more of a reaction to this.
Langly was warm. It, making love with Langly, had felt right somehow. Safe. Exciting. Nothing had been safe since that convention so long ago. He should have a lawn to mow, kids, a wife. But that would have been living a lie, living in the shadow of a hidden government accountable to no one.
They, Langly, Frohike and he, made a difference. Small perhaps, but it was theirs. They'd been through terrible things, were bound to suffer more, but they could make their choices.
And this, was this a choice? He, they, had been running for so long, cut off from anything he'd ever considered normal. Their mere presence was a danger to bystanders, let alone really knowing them. Was this just desperation?
No. He could have brushed off Ringo, but he had met his kiss, had taken every step with him. He, John Fitzgerald Byers, had wanted to touch and be touched, had desired Langly's offered love. Ringo was still offering it, watching over him. Byers turned onto his side and stroked the damp hair, better sharing his narrow bed.
Frohike unlocked the door, ready with a good-natured barb for Langly. He'd had a good evening, always did when he could mix business with pleasure. Strippers knew the damnedest things.
The lights on in the empty room slammed into his relaxed mood, putting him on alert. He looked for signs of a struggle, for signs of intruders, for surveillance equipment. He looked at the computer, noticing it was in full shutdown. The flashlight on the table suggested a power outage, but why hadn't they turned off the lights? He straightened Byers report while he thought. He noticed the t-shirt on the floor. Had Langly brought back a girl... He saw Byers' suit by the couch and a pair of jeans. He walked around the room judging the evidence. He wasn't surprised at not finding any dainties in the tailings.
"No wonder they forgot the lights." Frohike continued his security sweep, knowing he wouldn't sleep. He started coffee just in case; he wouldn't miss this morning for anything.
Byers woke warm and contented, sorry that he had to start the day. He started to get up and noticed that he wasn't alone. Last night quickly came back to him, and he smiled and watched Ringo sleep. It wasn't a first, they'd slept together in a lot of difficult situations where it was a matter of survival. This was so different, so... good. No cold van, wet woods or acrid jail cell, they were in bed, his bed.
He reached out to finger Langly's hair, now dry. Ringo looked different without his glasses. Last night had been... Breathtaking. He let his fingers drift to Langly's cheek and chin. Byers smiled as he stirred, hands rubbing his pyjama top. He rolled closer, pulling them together, never wanting to let go. He ran his hands around Ringo's back, thinking about last night.
He sat up. The clothes!
"John?" Langly reached for his glasses, belatedly remembering they were somewhere downstairs.
"Our clothes are on the floor."
Langly smiled and shook his head.
Byers swallowed at Langly vibrating with suppressed laughter. "Frohike. We've got to get our clothes!"
"Why do we care what Frohike thinks?" Langly got out of bed, knowing that Byers considered this important.
Byers went wide-eyed at seeing Langly naked and seriously considered going back to bed. No, he'd worry until they'd picked up the clothes. Frohike should still be asleep, but they'd have to be quiet. Byers put on his robe and cinched the belt tight.
Byers looked out and didn't see Frohike. He'd just go and get the clothes. He hurried down the stairs and headed for his suit. He looked from the door to the clothes. With the lights off, who'd notice? Suit in hand, Byers hunted for the rest and Langly's glasses. They had to be somewhere.
Frohike wondered where Langly was. Surprising them wouldn't be the same if he caught only Byers. Just as he was about to give up, he heard Langly on the stairs.
"You find my glasses?" Langly covered Byers' mouth with his hand. He looked at John and removed his hand. He still had his other hand on Byers shoulder.
"Morning, lovebirds." Frohike stepped out from behind the equipment rack. "The power's back on." He looked at the startled men. "Try under the edge of the couch."
Byers ducked and looked under the couch and pulled out Langly's glasses. Handing them to him, he faced Frohike.
"The computers power down after an outage, but the lights need to be switched off." He watched them look at each other. "So, Langly, guess I'll have to stop calling you virgin. There's coffee made." Frohike headed upstairs.
Langly was speechless and desperate to say something. Instead he grabbed his t-shirt from Byers and pulled it on.
Byers dropped onto the couch, clutching the clothes. He felt Langly sit down. He interrupted him before Ringo could speak. "No, I'm okay. Mortified, but okay." He sat quietly for a few moments. "Are you okay?"
"God, Frohike, you're such a prick." Langly looked at Byers, aware he wouldn't be in the mood anytime soon. It had been looking to be a good morning. "I need coffee, you?"
Byers nodded. He went over to the desk where he'd been reading last night. Maybe work was the right answer. It had to be done anyway. He'd found his place and was starting into a new paragraph when Langly brought him coffee. He was a bit further along when Langly came back.
"Breakfast?" Langly looked at Byers. "Most important meal of the day."
Byers got up and picked up his coffee mug. He would probably feel better if he ate something. He had to get dressed too. Figure out what else had to go to the drycleaners. He smiled at the plate of meatloaf and potatoes waiting for him. "Thanks."
He ate a few bites, trying to marshal his words. "The power must have come back on some time before Frohike came home." Byers tried to forget how obvious the clothes would have been. What if someone else had came in?
"I'm sorry, Ringo. I should have turned off the lights."
"No, that was my fault. I forgot them, I forgot my glasses, and I didn't think."
"We just need to be more careful." Byers caught Langly by the hand. "I should have known where your glasses were. We both made mistakes." Byers let go of Langly, and went back to his breakfast.
Byers finished breakfast and reading the report, and then went upstairs for his shower. His thoughts on water conservation were the only heat, and all the towels were damp. After getting dressed he decided that today was the time to run the errands. Find a little distance, perspective.
It was late afternoon before Byers returned. He'd stopped after the drycleaners for coffee, blending into the office crowd. After shaking a tail he'd spotted, he'd gone to the electronics supply for bug detector parts.
He found Langly at the computer, coding, while Frohike was working on an article. Byers looked at his spot in between them with a veiled wariness. He did have to write, so he sat down.
The first half hour went quickly, fitting together his argument from the evidence and his notes. He'd looked over at Langly a few times, just to make sure he was okay. The next half hour was a bit slower as he tried doing something with the piece he'd drawn short straw on. He looked over at Langly, hoping for inspiration.
He switched to the crop circle recap. It was almost filler, but they had a lot of readers that were interested but annoyed by the confused wire reports. He glanced over Langly a bit more, thinking about making crop circles on him. He ducked his head quickly, focusing on his screen.
He tried to concentrate on a political contributions article, only to drift back to the morning, causing him to glance over at Langly. After he caught himself, he used the reflections in his screen and water glass to check on Frohike.
Langly pushed back from the desk and twisted his arms behind his head. "You ready for dinner?" He looked quizzically at Byers' intent look at his screen. Langly smiled and loped out.
Byers sat for a moment, and then followed. He heard Frohike get up and looked back to find him glancing about at everything but him. Byers pointedly ignored Frohike and went into the kitchen.
Frohike waited with a patience born of long stake outs. Langly coding was undistractable. Eating after coding, it was like feeding time at an underfunded zoo.
Byers pulled his eyes away. Over the years he'd gotten used to the feeding frenzy. It was like those first weeks all over again. He cut his meal into very small pieces, eyes on his plate.
"So, what did you do today?" Frohike had had only the smallest satisfaction of egging Langly before he'd started coding. If he stirred the pot a little, with an innocent question...
"Dropped off the dry cleaning, evaded a tail, went to the electronics supply."
"One of the usual tails?"
"I didn't make him until traffic. New car, of course."
Frohike and Langly both nodded. Predictable.
Dinner finished quietly, and they all slipped into their clearing away chores. Byers rolled up his sleeves and started on the dishes, Frohike wiped things down, while Langly carried until there was stuff to dry.
Byers turned to look at Langly, wondering how many times they had done this. They had tried rotating chores, at his behest, until he broke and point blank said he'd wash the dishes.
Langly grinned at Byers. Drying had turned out a great way to watch Byers. He'd concentrate on getting every speck of food off the plates and be completely oblivious. He smiled wider as Byers looked away and blushed.
Frohike coughed, and wiped down the counter with a flourish. Didn't do to let them forget they weren't alone. He showed his teeth at Langly when he glared back.
Langly wanted to strangle him, but he conceded that wouldn't get Byers in bed. He'd have to get back at Frohike later, when he had a bit of implausible deniability. His fingers grazed over Byers' when he took the next plate.
Byers looked up. He knew Frohike was still about, and he almost didn't care. This was dangerous. "How are your articles coming along?"
"Um, they're simmering." He didn't have a hope pulling that over Byers.
"Fermenting more likely. Like his socks." Frohike looked between the two men and decided to retreat, returning to his computer. He would be able hear from there.
"You haven't started any of them." Byers breathed deep. So much for an early night. Langly always waited right to the end. He tried to not think about Ringo working under pressure.
"Okay, I'll get on them." Langly headed back to the computer, mad at himself. If only he'd known he'd fuck Byers last night, he'd have done them earlier. He'd rather be doing Byers. He smiled, since that wasn't an impossibilty any more. Once he got the damn articles done.
Byers looked over at Langly. He had thought he knew frustration, regarding Langly and writing. Mere editorial concern had nothing on tonight.
Langly peeked over at Byers, quickly putting his eyes back on the screen. He could not get the article to hang together, and had a cut and paste file twice the needed column length. He just knew his high school English teacher was dancing in a clearing somewhere.
Frohike got up from his desk and just shook his head at Byers. He had contacts to meet, and the amusement had flagged quite some time ago. Had to grant them perseverance. Poor bastards.
Byers couldn't take any more. They had the warehouse to themselves. He could, this once, write something to fill the space.
"Just take a look at this." Langly got up and headed for the bathroom. Byers got up warily and looked at the document. He scrolled down and pulled out Langly's chair. He was still sitting there when Langly returned.
"I know it's crap, but I can't write any more."
"We'll work on it tomorrow." Right now it looked pretty good. Whether it still would in the morning was a crapshoot. He got out of the chair, letting Langly back at the computer. He headed to the door, double and triple checked the locks and then went through his entire mental checklist.
He was half way through the second round when he intersected with Langly. "I've checked everything." He should finish the double check.
"So have I." Langly slouched with his hands on his arms, his lips pressed tightly together, watching Byers. He waited.
Byers swallowed. He stepped just in front of Ringo, close enough to feel him breathing. He clasped him by the hands and pressed forward.
Langly sprang, wrapping himself around Byers. He tried to inhale him.
"Upstairs." Byers was not going to repeat the couch. He pulled away, turning Langly. He followed closely, clutching the banister.
Langly caught Byers at the head of the stairs and leaned, weak kneed, into a wall. His hands cupped the short hair and beard.
"Ringo." He dug his hands into the back pockets. "Room." Somehow they stumbled inside, Byers pulling at his vest buttons and his belt.
Langly toed off his shoes and tore at his jeans. Somehow they both made it to the bed. He moaned as John latched onto his neck and tried peeling off his shirt. He struggled with their underwear.
Byers gave up on Langly's shirt, his hands kneading Ringo's chest. He moaned as they rolled over.
Langly tossed his glasses towards the nightstand, and locked his mouth on John's. One hand wedged up the back of John's shirt, while the other cupped his face.
Byers locked his arms around Langly's back, arching into him.
Langly bore down, his hips rocking frenetically.
Byers moaned into Ringo's mouth. This was wild, mad, passionate. He couldn't slow down and he never wanted it to end. He didn't have enough hands. He dug them into Ringo's hair. He tried to wrap a leg over Ringo's, to control the erratic thrusts. It was too much and they'd waited too long. He was dragged under.
Langly turned his face on John's shoulder, confused until he thought "shirt." Shifting his weight, he plucked one handed at the buttons, before pulling his arm out from under Byers. He smiled at John, his tie only loosened, shirt open over the undershirt. Langly stripped out of his t-shirt and threw it off the bed, rolling onto his back.
Byers looked at himself, blinking at his tie. So much for control. He unknotted it and dropped the tie on the dresser top. At least their clothes were all in the room. Strewn all over the room. He pulled off his shirt and dropped it, and his undershirt to the floor.
He looked over at sprawled Langly, all long limbs and muscle. He reached out a hand for his cheek. How had something this improbable happened to him? His thumb made little circles and he leaned in for a slow kiss. He pulled back and slid his hand up into the blond hair. He moved closer and kissed Ringo deeper.
Byers' thumb on his face made him tingle, leaving him breathless. John's kiss left him weak, his hand in his hair invincible. Langly drank in his mouth and slung his arms around Byers. He was swept away.
Byers drew his fingers through Ringo's hair, kissing over his cheek and down his neck. His hands slid down onto Langly's muscular shoulders, clasped his arms. Ringo was so solid. Someone he could hold onto; so much had slipped through his fingers.
Langly couldn't believe the slow burn of this, the tenderness of Byers kissing, his beard teasing. It was past imagining, this lavish attention. Not desperation, not furtive fumbling. Confident. Langly gasped as John kissed across his chest, sure and... gentle. He moaned as John's hands slipped lower, fingers dragging over his nipples.
Byers tilted his head slightly to look at Ringo. He was beautiful like this, face smooth and pleased. He started to push up to kiss him again, when Ringo moaned. John sought to do whatever it was again.
Langly's jaw fell open as John brushed his nipples. John's fingertips stroked and circled him with sure curiosity. Langly eased his arms down Byers' back, resting them at his waist. He couldn't anticipate, just experience.
Byers reached up to cradle Ringo's face and kissed him lingeringly. His hands dug into Langly's hair, and he stretched to kiss his forehead. Byers sighed at Ringo's lips against his neck.
Langly held John, rubbing the small of his back, unwilling to interfere. John wanted to have him fiendishly slow, and he was going to let him. He nuzzled into John's neck, and along his beard as John moved lower. Pecked at the passing forehead and top of John's head. John's beard was wicked against his skin. "Ohhh."
Byers rubbed his face over Ringo's nipples. He grinned at Ringo's exultation. He kissed the left one, his tongue darting out as he kissed it again. Byers kissed it again as he felt the trilled rumble Ringo was making.
Langly dragged his hand up John's back, caressing his nape. He hooked a leg over John's, pulling them closer. He resisted the impulse to roll them over, vibrating with need. He moved his hand into John's hair, spreading his fingers against his back. He slid his right hand to clutch John's ass.
Byers gasped, moaning against Ringo's chest. He rolled his hips against him, grasping Ringo's arms. He felt grounded, secure, treasured. He kissed up Ringo's throat and consumed his mouth.
Langly held on, sweeping up and down John's back and kneading his cheeks. It felt like John was sucking his toes up through his mouth. He pulled his knee higher, over John's ass and grabbed his head in his hands.
Byers let go. He plummeted, gaining speed, plunging down. Falling. Ringo would catch him.
Langly surfaced, buoyed by John. His breathing was ragged and his limbs weak. He felt great. His fingers hung from the back of John's neck. He rooted slowly, finding the edge of the blankets, and covered them.
They had shifted some over the course of the night, so that when Langly woke he was not lying on his back, and Byers was only leaning tight against him. Langly thought that this was reason enough to be an early riser. He did, however, really need to go to the can.
"John." He'd waited for this so long, it was hard to believe he was here. It felt natural. He shifted Byers, only to stop, arms wrapped fast.
Byers was wide awake. What the hell?! "Oh." He closed his eyes for a moment. They'd become stuck to each other. "One. Two."
"Ow." Langly got up and headed for the door quickly.
Byers lay still for a moment, before pushing himself up. He needed a shower, they both did. Langly might go right back to sleep, which he didn't really mind. No, he didn't mind that at all. He picked up what he needed and headed for the bathroom.
Langly was already in the shower, when Byers entered. Byers took care of his own call, and then slipped through the curtain. He'd never get used to this, how wondrous Ringo was. His breath raced.
Langly reached out a hand, and Byers allowed himself to be pulled under the spray. Langly swallowed as they bumped together. Byers was turned so he was standing before Ringo. Langly wrapped his arms around him, his hands quickly lathering up the soap.
"Ohh." Byers leaned back as Ringo's long hands rubbed over his chest. He drifted as the hands moved down, washing him clean. Along his ribs, his stomach, until finally they reached lower. Byers went still and quiet.
"John?"
It felt good, Langly's hand on his dick, holding his balls. Okay, it felt great. Ringo felt fantastic wrapped around him, chest against his back, arms holding him steady. Byers had been alone too long, had depended on his hand too much. "Are you..going...wash your hair?"
"Yeah."
Langly let him go after a last rinse and reached out for his shampoo. "Let me." Byers turned, touching Ringo's arm. He looked so kissable. He leaned in and gave him a firm, sultry kiss. Ringo leaned forward , trying to crawl into the kiss. His fingers brushed against John. "Turn around." He poured out some of the shampoo, noting it was purple, and worked his hands into the mane of hair. Ringo made a contented noise.
Byers massaged the shampoo into a lather. As he worked down from the crown of Ringo's head, the heavy hair was less cooperative, tangling around his fingers. He tried to work them free, and move the lather to the ends.
"Stop."
John froze behind Langly. He started to apologize and was interrupted.
"It's okay, you just don't know what you're doing." Langly reached for the shampoo. "Let me finish this so we don't freeze." He swung his head over to try working the ends out as he lathered. He jumped back a bit trying to stand away as far as possible from the cold water as he rinsed.
Byers stepped out of the shower, and grabbed his towel. He'd spoiled things, and he tried to hold himself together, to not rain down in shards. Dried, he put on his robe and opened the door. Langly pushed past him and into his room, slamming the door. Byers went to his own to dress.
Langly dug around for a comb, working at his ends a bit at a time until he could pull it the full length of his hair. He looked back at Byers only to realize Byers wasn't there. He rooted around for some clothes.
Byers combed his hair carefully, nearly scowling at his reflection. He picked out his clothes and dressed briskly. He knotted his tie, schooling his face into impassivity. He'd royally screwed up. He should have known things were going too well, but he couldn't leave it alone, and had to overreach. How could he face Langly? Frohike was going to have a field day with this one. He couldn't even get to thirty-six hours.
"Can you see my glasses?" Langly came through the door, flinging it shut. Damn, why was Byers in such a hurry to get dressed? He clasped John by the jaw and kissed him. Langly felt him pull back.
Byers looked at Langly and then around the room. "Um, on the night stand."
"Thanks." Langly climbed over the bed, put on his glasses and turned around. Something wasn't right. "What's wrong?"
Byers tried to speak, the words never escaping his lips.
"John?" Langly wondered what the hell was going on. He got off the bed and walked back to Byers, resting a hand on the suit-jacketed shoulder. "What's up with you?"
"Me?" Byers looked too calm, too controlled. "Nothing is up with me."
"Don't play that crap with me. Something's wrong."
Byers turned to leave, pulling open the door.
Langly pushed the door shut, leaning against it with one arm. "Don't run away until you tell me what I did wrong."
"You? I..." His breath caught, his eyes flicked over Ringo, inches away.
Langly shifted to lean against the door, arms folded across his chest. "Just tell me."
Byers walked over to the bed and sat down. "I screwed up." "
What the hell are you talking about?"
"You were right, I don't know what I'm doing. I thought this could work, it was going so well, and..."
Langly closed his eyes. He was crashing and burning. His words came back to him. "Shit." He walked over and sat next to Byers. "You know I say shit like that all the time." Damn, why couldn't Byers say something, anything? Instead John just looked at him, blinking.
"Please." He wrapped Byers' hands in his. "I know I'm a fuckup but this has got to be an all time record."
"You are not." Byers looked at their hands in his lap, and clutched back at Langly's. "I'm sorry about your hair."
"Don't pay attention to me when I say stupid shit." He turned Byers by the chin to face him. "No one's wanted to wash my hair before. Cut it off, but not wash it."
Byers reached out to touch Langly's hair, still damp. "I am sorry."
"I'll have to teach you the right way. You'll let me teach you?"
"Are you sure?" He looked at Ringo, saw him nod. "Yes. Of course I will."
Langly hugged John to him. "Um, think you could lose the jacket?" He waited for Byers to take it off and place it aside before pulling him close again. He really needed to stop saying stupid shit.
Byers closed his eyes. He never wanted to let go. He looked up in surprise as Langly leaned back, pulling him down onto the bed.
Langly just held on, held on in fear and relief. Why was it so easy for him to fuck things up?
This was good, lying together, wrapped around each other. Safe. Even after making a mess of things, Ringo held him close. He liked it. He felt cherished. He wanted to feel this way more often. He wanted to deserve to feel this way, to be worth being cherished.
Langly started to feel a little more in control, a bit less panicked. John had that effect on him. He felt really good, even just lying here like this. Maybe especially here, just like this. How'd he gotten this lucky? He'd wanted Byers for years, and somehow it'd happened. Why?
"Why?" He closed his eyes, frightened of the answer. He needed to know. Wasn't that what he did, ask dangerous questions? Pry where he wasn't wanted?
"Why?" Byers turned, looked at Ringo. "Why what?"
"Why am I getting everything I wanted? What made last night, and the night before possible?"
Byers blinked. "Everything you wanted?" If he thought too much about that... His sense for the truth made him dig at the 'why'. "What about 'why' is bothering you?"
"Why didn't you laugh your head off when I kissed you?" That would have been gut-twistingly horrible. Just thinking about it made him queasy. He held onto John tighter, willing himself not to shake.
"Why the hell would I?" Byers breathed. He was missing something important and this was no way to find out what.
"If this isn't a punchline, can you really think of anything thing less likely?"
Byers sat up. "What do you mean?"
Langly followed. "Why bother with me? You wouldn't even know me if it hadn't been for Susanne."
"And you wouldn't be here if I hadn't dragged you into that whole mess."
"What? I was selling bootleg cable. You're the one that got screwed."
"We all got screwed because I had to play hero. I wanted to save Susanne, and I pulled you into all this, not knowing what I was doing." He shook his head. "And honestly, I couldn't say I wouldn't do it again, because you're both the best friends I almost never had."
"And if Frohike hadn't brought you to me, you would still be living your nice narc life and not living like this. This is my life, not yours."
"Our life. I made a choice not to turn away. Not then, and certainly not now. If I can live with a mistake I made for all the right reasons, let me hold onto the best thing that's happened to me."
Langly stared at Byers. "What?"
"You. I want to make love to you, learn to wash your hair, deserve your love."
"Deserve?" Langly hoped this couldn't get any stranger. Just to make sure, he kissed John. Oh yeah, this made sense. He really tried to extend the kiss indefinitely, but finally had to break for air. "You deserve way more than me, but I'm yours."
Byers pulled himself back against Ringo, kissing him, his fingers against his damp scalp. He'd just have to make him believe. He hoped they'd live that long. He wished they could have met under different circumstances.
"Ringo." He clung against Langly. "Why did you kiss me the other night?"
"Even hope dies."
Byers held Langly's hand still. "What does that mean?"
"Just that I had to do something before the chance was gone. I'm glad I did." He shifted his arms, amazed he could hold Byers. Like some hack.
"Me too." Byers shook at the possibility of missing this. Another thought came to him, unbidden. "How long have you wanted to do that?"
"Since I saw you."
"Oh my god." Byers tried to burrow into Langly. "You were calling me a narc." He leaned back at an empty growly noise. "Must be breakfast time." He got up, picking up his jacket and giving Ringo his hand.
They went downstairs, Langly in front, and headed into the kitchen.
Frohike looked at the two as they entered. His measuring expression bled mostly away, and was replaced with a hint of satisfaction. "Think you two can keep things down? I could have been sleeping."
"Maybe if you had a girlfriend more recently than the Nixon administration, you'd sleep better," Langly snarked.
Byers opened the fridge looking for sustenance. At least this was normal.
"If this means you'll do your chores with a smile, I suppose I can get used to you as Donna Reed." Frohike leaned back smugly.
Langly glared at Frohike. He turned to Byers, plucked the toast from his hand and kissed him.
Byers deepened the kiss, before pulling back. "I'll be in the office, Donna."