New Fic: Still Here: G/R RPS: NC-17
Jesus, time flies :| When I went to find the link for the last RPS I wrote, I realized it was pretty much a *year* ago that I last wrote one. So I suppose this one was due :P

From my "unfinished fics post" a month ago, here's that RPS fic I was working on - it's a continuation of the last one. To refresh, here are the links to the previous parts:

Chapter. 1: Not Acting Anymore
Chapter. 2: Days After

And here's the latest chapter:



Title: Still Here
Randy's POV: NC-17 for language and sex
Premise: Follow-up to "Days After"

HERE IS THE RPS WARNING: Although this mentions real people, this is in NO WAY a real or inferred situation. This never happened, never will happen, and is not to imply that it even could happen. For entertainment purposes ONLY.

Still Here


"I'll make you breakfast," I say, pushing the covers off and starting to climb out of bed.

I feel his fingers, warm and soft, wrap around my wrist and I fall back down to the bed. "You don't have to do that," his voice is quiet and the southern drawl slips out.

"I know, but..." I let my thoughts trail away. I was going to say it seemed the right thing to do, but that seems pretty irrelevant considering the situation.

He rubs my skin softly, dragging the pad of his thumb back and forth across the underside of my wrist, my palm lying face up towards the ceiling. "Besides... I'm not even hungry," he says looking away from me, watching his hand as it trails across mine.

I almost laugh because that's just so not the point, and just so very Gale, but I don't want to break his stare... he's lost in thought, lost in something, lost in... fuck, I don't know. The taste of his come is still on my tongue, the phantom scratch of his beard still burns against my face, I can still smell the dark heat of his crotch on my lips. Christ, I want him, I want this, I want it to never stop or end or break, but I know it will inevitably and I feel like I have to push it to the finish line now before I end up lost too.

"Hey," he squeezes my wrist and my eyes snap to his, not realizing my gaze had fallen away, that I had been staring at his fingers wrapped around my wrist, looking at it as if it wasn't mine. As if it wasn't attached to me, my brain, my supposed good common sense.

"Hey," I say back, then grin, laughing nervously through my nose. I put my other hand in my lap to cover my cock, somehow suddenly embarrassed at the hardness I feel there.

He leans towards me and grabs that wrist too, pulling my arm away from my crotch, making me feel exposed and open. I try to shift, but he holds my arms steady and I can't move and he just stares at me, trailing his eyes down my chest to my dick, then back up again to my face. I don't want to see his expression – I'm almost afraid of it, and I look away, trying to act like I don't care, like it doesn't matter, when really, this is very quickly becoming all that matters. All that I care about.

"C'mere," he pulls me towards him and I feel relieved and kind of stupid and I miss his hand from my wrist when he lets me go, but then his fingers curve around my hip and I'm lying down beside him. I close my eyes and don't look at him, just concentrate on the feeling of the crumpled cotton sheets beneath my body, the warm sun sneaking in the window and touching at the backs of my thighs.

"I don't... I don't really want this to stop yet," he says it slowly, each word falling from his lips as if he's not thinking about what he's saying. His breath hits my face as he slides closer to me, the heat from his body so close to mine, so near to me.

"Me neither," I barely whisper, not thinking he'll hear me, but when I let my eyes slip open, I see his smiling face and know he did. I smile back a little, lopsided and unsure, and feel his fingers tighten on my hip, his forehead press against mine. His lips touch my face, then move to my mouth and we lie quiet for moments, breathing, our lips brushing together, not kissing, not anything, just touching, soft and close.

Our hands know better than we do and start to wander, his fingers dragging up and down my side, running across my ribs and hipbone, palm pressing warm against my skin, holding me to him. My fingers find his waist and I trail them across hard muscle and smooth skin, my fingertips touching his spine and counting up his vertebrae.

It feels nice, this quiet exploration, and it goes on for minutes, longer. He grips my hip and I press my fingers into his back, feel a knot in his muscles and work it slowly. He sighs heavily and pushes back against my touch, then edges over onto his stomach, splaying out on my sheets, his hand sliding from me to lie flat on the bed.

I look at him, his eyes closed, cheek resting on his fingers beneath his head. His hair is a little skewed around his face and he looks so not perfect and I love that. There's a dark tinge of circle beneath his eye, the start of tiny wrinkles around his mouth, and an actual, bona fide nose hair curling out of his nostril. It makes me smile just to look at him, to stare at him like this, knowing he's lying there for me. I keep pushing my hand up and down his spine, pressing harder, feeling each ridge beneath my fingers.

"Hmmmm... nice," he mumbles into my pillow, his lip catching on the pillowcase, keeping his mouth open. "Almost forgot how good you are at that."

"You askin' for a massage?" I ask, knowing damn well he is.

"Well, if you're giving 'em out..." he trails away, keeping his eyes closed, his cheek pushed up into a lop-sided half smile against the pillow.

"I'm giving 'em out," I laugh softly and I climb up onto his back, straddling his hips, letting my balls rest on his ass.

He sighs deeply and shifts beneath me, settling into the mattress. I've given him hundreds of impromptu shoulder massages on set, but never like this. Never naked. Never in my bed.

I push my hands across his back and rub his shoulders hard, the way he likes, kneading his muscles and pressing circles at the base of his neck, watching my fingers as they play across the tanned expanse of his back. I let myself get lost in it, in this, in giving him this primal pleasure, keeping focused on his shoulders and trying to ignore the soft curve of his ass beneath mine.

His eyes are closed and I bend over and kiss the side of his face, then lick at his ear to make sure he hasn't fallen asleep. He tenses underneath me, laughing through his nose.

"Tickles," he mumbles against the pillowcase.

"I know," I say back and do it again, softer and slower this time, pulling the shell of his ear between my lips, then kissing him behind the ear, down the side of his neck, between his shoulder blades. I keep my hands on his shoulders, pushing my thumbs into the tight muscles, and drag my tongue up his spine, licking at his skin. My cock pulses at the taste of him, brushing his lower back, and I push my hips against him, let my dick lie heavy against his spine so he can feel my hardness against his skin.

He doesn't react, just keeps his eyes closed, his breathing even. I wonder if I'm purposefully testing him, pushing him, trying him... but honestly, I really don't know what I'm doing. I'm not thinking anymore, just doing what feels good, letting my heart and cock guide me. I drag my mouth lower, and crawl down his back, pushing my hips against him. Now that I've started, I can't stop myself, and I just want to rut against him, his back, his hot skin, his ass. My heart beats harder in my chest, my cheeks start to flush, I feel dizzy and keep kissing down his spine, kneading his muscles with my fingers as I move lower and lower and lower until...

The curve of his ass cheeks slide under my palms, and I drag my mouth across his bum, laying little kisses across his cheeks. His skin is warm and soft and looks pale in contrast to the tanned skin on his back. I've seen his ass lots of times before, but not like this, not where I can kiss him and lick him and...

I feel tentative and anxious... I don't know if he wants this, would even let me... but really, I've gone too far now to even consider backing down. I massage his ass, never letting my mouth leave his skin, giving him wet kisses all over till I muster up enough courage to put my palms on his cheeks and pull them apart to reveal his hole, almost hidden beneath dark, curly hair.

His scent overpowers me, dark and musky and like sex - everything inside me tenses and before I'm even aware or conscious of what I'm doing, I bend over and put my mouth right there... rest my lips on his cheeks and slip my tongue from my mouth... I don't touch him, just play with his soft hairs with my tongue, curl them into my mouth and breathe against his skin. I know that if he wanted me to stop he would've said something, anything... and I remember that he's done this to me, before, that one night, that first time, but we were drunk and stoned and it was just two quick swipes of my ass with his tongue and yet I haven't touched him and I'm just breathing and...

A drop of spit slides from my tongue and lands on his hole. He gasps, back arches, butt clenches, fingers grip at the pillowcase.

"Gale?" I say his name quietly, sure the spell has been broken, sure he's going to roll over and tell me he's gotta go, sure he's gonna run and leave and never, ever come back.

But instead... he takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. Relaxes into the sheets again, and raises his hips the slightest bit towards me, into my face, towards my waiting lips and mouth and tongue. And I know what he wants and I know what I want and I take my eyes off his face, his scrunched up eyes and dark hair sticking up all over and fall back to his ass, open my mouth and touch my tongue to his hole.

"Oh," I hear him say, that's it, just that single word. I feel his hand on my hair, fingers grasping at the strands gently, twisting loosely in his grip.

I lick his ass softly at first, letting him take it in, take in the feeling of it... I remember the first time I was rimmed, remember the weird and intense mix of embarrassment and exhilaration it gave me. Remember wanting it to go on and on and on, remember getting that feeling like I was almost going to come but knowing I wouldn't. Remember that incredible sense of intimacy... of feeling high, of feeling so close to that person. There was nothing like it. Nothing at all.

He starts to breathe hard, his body moving beneath my tongue, his hole clenching and unclenching over and over as I touch him. I can feel him let go, give in to it, and I lay long, wet swipes across his skin, bathing him, soaking him, pushing his thighs further apart, massaging his cheeks, kissing and sucking on his hole as he writhes beneath me. I don't hold back, I give him everything, I bury my face in his ass and God, it's so good, and I love doing it, love it, love everything, love him - all of a sudden I realize it and I get hit with this overwhelming wave, urge, desire to be inside him. To have him. Have all of him.

I ease off and climb up his body, reaching over to the side table and pulling open the drawer slowly. His back rises and falls beneath my chest – his breathing deep and a little shaky.

I fumble in the drawer for what I want, then ease it shut again, my head spinning. I don't know what I'm thinking – if I'm crazy for even imagining that this could happen. I bend over him, pressing my chest to his back and leaning the side of my face between his shoulder blades. My ears fill with the sound of his heartbeat and I feel my own in my chest beating hard.

Slowly, slowly, I lower my hips till my cock is pressed between his ass cheeks, still slippery and slick from my spit. My mouth drops open and I take shallow breaths and Christ I want to be inside him, that's all I want right now, ever. I put my hands on his sides and grip him tightly, start rutting against him, sliding my cock against his hole, his hard body hot and damp beneath me.

I can't do this. I know I can't do this. He won't let me, it'll fuck up everything, it'll stop whatever has started and even though I mostly think I want it to stop, I know in my heart I'll die if it does. But... oh God... he pushes his ass up against me, and I press back harder into him and... his hand closes over mine on his side and... I breathe against his back and... and...

At first I don't think I hear it, couldn't hear it, over my stuttered breathing, the sound of my rushing blood in my ears. I don't think I hear anything but then there it is again...

Yes... a whisper, loud in the silent room. An answer to a question I couldn't ask, wouldn't ask... but an answer. I stop moving against him, try to still my heart and head. He grabs at my hair, pulling me to him, to his face, his mouth, his lips and kisses me sloppily, his breath ragged as he does and then I know what I heard.

And I realize it's too late to stop anything because everything has already changed.

He pushes back up into me, slides his ass against my cock, pulls at my hair in his fist and a bloom of heat rushes to my chest, my face. It all feels so good, too good, and I wish I could push into him now, like this, naked and raw with nothing but a layer of my spit between us.

But we can't do that. There are the messy necessities of sex, the realities of the world we live in, all the things that need to be dealt with. I ease up off his back and tear the condom open with shaking fingers, barely paying attention to what I'm doing, just going through the motions of preparation as quickly as I can.

I slick my fingers with lube and slide them across his hole, knowing how good it feels, how much it makes you want to be filled. Fucked. He moans in his throat and I run my index finger around his tight hole, then push inside him slow and soft.

He's tight at first then relaxes quickly, and soon I have two fingers inside him, my hand disappearing between his legs as I ease him open. I hold my palm against his ass and don't move for seconds, longer... just let him feel it, know what it's going to feel like.

Most times, I like to tease my lover, like to make him moan and whimper and beg me to fuck him. But this is different. So different. He's so different. He lies there patiently as if he's just waiting to know what it feels like. Like he's waiting for me to be ready.

The thing is... I don't know that I ever could be ready for this. I know I'll regret it because then it will be done and over and have happened... it won't be a question anymore, a what if. We won't be able to go back, we won't be able to pretend it was nothing, we'll be in this whole other situation and I'll fall deeper into this than I ever thought I ever could... and maybe it'll be good or maybe it'll be fucked up or... I don't know.

But I can't think of those things now. I can't think of rights and wrongs and futures. I can't think beyond fucking him, can't think beyond being inside him. Can't think beyond being that close to him again. As close as last night, as close as that night before.

Right now all I can think about is pushing the head of my dick against his ass, about the deep breaths he's sucking in, about sliding inside him, that it's tight, so fucking tight... my mouth drops open and I breathe loudly and he grunts and moans and lifts his hips up to meet my cock and then I'm inside him, all inside him... it was too fast, too much, too hard, I know that, but he wanted it and now he has it. Has me. Has all of me.

His head falls to the pillow and I can see the sweat on his forehead and I lie against his back, pressing my face into his shoulder blades, kissing at his spine and lying very still so he can process what this feels like. What it feels like to be taken and had and fucked.

"It's good," he whispers out harshly, suddenly and I feel like he's reading my mind.

I can't say anything, I can't even breathe, and I just focus on this, on this feeling. I put my hands on his sides and lift up slowly, my inner thighs squeezing against the outside of his, and I slide my cock out of him, then ease back in again. I fuck him slowly, feel him relax more and more with each push in until I'm sliding in with ease. He reaches behind him and puts his hand on my ass, pushing me inside him hard, digging his fingernails into my soft skin.

He holds me against his body and I rock into him from there, letting him knead my ass, his nails pinching me, my cock deep inside him. He pushes his legs apart and lifts his hips, and I slide my hand underneath him to pull his cock between my fingers. He's so hot and wet, gasping as I touch his dick, and I stroke him clumsily, as much as I can in the narrow space between his body and the bed. He shakes a little beneath me, it's too much, he's overwhelmed, he's gonna come, I've felt him like this before, with his cock down my throat, his dick in my ass, but I keep fucking him, keep up the in and out, feel his ass contracting all around me and I start to peak, I let the tightness overtake me, and I know that I'm going to...

He jams his hips up into me and presses hard against my ass, holding me to him, fingers biting my skin and he moans and drops his head and curls up a little and then oh Christ, everything is sofuckingtight and he comes into my hand, ropes of it, warm come dripping through my fingers but then I'm hardly aware of it anymore as I crest and come too, slamming my cock into his ass for a final push, riding it out, trying to remember how to breathe. And then it's hot and damp and my hands are sticky with lube and come and I'm barely able to pull my cock from him before falling to the bed, sated.

I pant heavily and wipe my hand on the sheets messily, then pull off the condom and toss it to the side of the bed.

"Jesus," he says, rolling over onto his back. He puts his arm across his eyes and takes deep breaths as if he's trying to catch it.

I wanna say something, but everything that comes to my lips is just wrong. Totally wrong. I feel a funny kind of panic creep over me as I wonder if I'll ever have anything right to say to him again.

I lie on my back and stare at the ceiling, listen to the noises outside, wonder what time it is and feel my stomach start to growl. He's silent beside me, and when I look over at him, he's staring at me through his fingers, his arm still resting across his face.

The silence drags out between us, and we both keep staring at each other, our chests shiny with sweat and our dicks wet with spent come. Somehow I don't think there are words for this.

But then it happens... he starts it, at first it's just something I think I see in his eyes, and then the side of his mouth lifts and it's there. He smiles at me, and laughs through his nose.

"What?" I ask him, smiling back because I really don't know what else to do.

He shakes his head slowly, the silly smile still across his face. I brush the hair from my eyes and roll onto my side facing him.

"You... uh... said something about breakfast before?" he asks, that wide grin splitting his face apart. He bites his bottom lip and scrunches his face up a little, squinting at me as if I'll say no. It totally makes me laugh out loud and I kiss him quickly on the forehead.

"Yeah, I can make you breakfast," I say, pushing at his feet with mine. I don't want to get out of bed, but I'm pretty sure that I should. "I can't promise more than eggs and toast though."

"Sounds good to me," he says, trailing his fingers down his stomach. He's got this just fucked look that I've never, ever seen before. I like it.

I climb out of bed and feel his eyes on my back, know he's staring at me as I pull on my sleep pants and a t-shirt. The panic and fear of regret I felt before is gone, and all I feel is just... well... happy. I wonder if this is what it feels like. What being happy and satisfied and in love feels like. I glance back at him one last moment, and our eyes catch in the sunlight.

"I'm here, you know," he says it softly.

"Yeah," I laugh a little and look at him strangely. "I know."

"Just want to make sure you see that," he smiles at me and turns over onto his side, curling up against my pillow. His voice is lazy and tired and his eyes close.

I stand in the doorway for a minute and watch him, sure he's falling asleep, then turn away to go make us breakfast, even though it's well past noon.

It's not until the coffee has brewed and I'm buttering the toast that I finally get it. A slow smile creeps across my face as it starts to sink in.

He's still here. He didn't run away like I expected him to last night, he didn't leave like I thought he might this morning. I don't know what it all means, what it means for tomorrow or the next day, but right now all I know is that...

He's still here.

*** *** *** *** ***