Ripple Effect, Part 2
Later/
“You should be here,” Ian said quietly, and over all the music and yelling, he knew Pieter could hear him perfectly.
“You know why I had to leave early,” came the sleepy murmur.
“I know.” Ian paused for a minute when Grant Hackett bounced by and slapped him on the back. Grant was gone the next second, and Ian switched his phone to his other ear. He ducked quickly to avoid a falling balloon. “It really is nice though. Tons of glitter, you’d love it.”
“There’s always glitter.” Pieter laughed softly. “I’ve been to two of them, and I’ll go to one more. I can afford to miss this one.”
Ian wanted to tell Pieter not to talk like that, because four years was so far away and so many things could happen in the meantime. There were no guarantees when it came to their sport.
But Ian only said, “Are you settled?”
“As much as I can be. It would have been easier with you here to help me, you know.”
“I asked you to wait,” Ian protested mildly.
“I know.” Pieter chuckled. “Look, Ian, go have fun. Go pants someone for me. I have to go anyway.”
“Okay. Good-it’s morning over there, isn’t it?”
“Something like it.” A tired smile extended over miles of distance and space. Ian could almost feel it against his neck.
“Right. I’ll talk to you later then.”
“I’ll see you at home.”
The phone clicked as Pieter hung up, and Ian grinned.
--
Now/
Ian arches his back and moans to God. Something about sex with Pieter always makes him suddenly devout. Pieter manages to grin, even though his lips are wrapped around Ian’s cock, and sucks just a little bit harder.
Then Ian is coming, gasping out something close to a Hail Mary, his fingers tangled in Pieter’s hair. Pieter swallows greedily, not moving his head an inch until Ian falls limp onto the bed. Pieter smiles softly to himself, crawls up Ian so that they touch noses.
“Was it like that?” Pieter whispers and Ian can smell his own come on Pieter’s breath.
Ian is shaking. He is shaking as Pieter closes his eyes, he is shaking as Pieter waits, he is shaking as he knows he won’t be able to lie.
“Yes.”
Pieter lets out a breath held a minute too long. He leans in then and presses his lips against Ian’s. It is not so much as kiss, however, as it is a prayer on a breath, a wish on a soft touch, a hope on gentle warmth. Ian revels in it, wanting to bring his arms up and wrap them around Pieter’s neck, pull Pieter in closer. But he doesn’t.
Pieter silently pulls away and slides off the bed. In between one shadow and the next, he is gone. Ian closes his eyes to the now empty room and feels like crying.
--
Before/
“I hate you!” Ian snarled.
“Well I fucking hate you more!” Pieter hissed back.
They are both panting, facing each other, fingernails digging into the palms of their hands, eyes narrowed, shoulders stiff.
“You promised me,” Ian growled fiercely.
“That was before you fucked him.” Pieter’s voice was icy.
“I…” Ian felt the bottom of his stomach drop out. Pieter knew. Ian could try to explain, how he was drunk and horny and Pieter hadn’t been there, and he had always wanted to and the chance had just come along, and opportunity rarely knocked twice, so he figured with all his drunken logic this had to be of the ‘knock once’ variety and carpe diem was what he had always been taught…but really, the bottom line was that he had fucked up. Ian’s throat constricted and his chest felt tight, and there was an itchiness at his eyes that he couldn’t blink away.
“Don’t you have to leave now?” Pieter said his words bitingly cruel.
Ian punched the wall next to him just once and but didn’t slam the door on his way out.
--
Beginning/
“If I win the 200,” Ian mused, tapping his chin thoughtfully with a finger, “you move to Australia with me.”
Pieter laughed, his eyes sparkling. “What if I win?”
“You won’t,” Ian said simply, tumbling Pieter back onto the bed with him. Pieter didn’t mind terribly being pinned under Ian.
“How about the 100? Are we betting on that too?”
“If you win that, I’ll let you top.” Ian grinned, then nipped at Pieter’s collarbone, following it up with a quick lick.
“Oh, I like that,” Pieter said breathily, tilting his head back to allow Ian better access to his neck. But Ian paused and looked up.
“Do you really promise?” he asked seriously, with none of his previous humor.
“Hm?”
“If I win. You’ll really move, Pieter?”
“I promise.”