Raymour and Flanigan Up in This Bitch （27）

January 29

Day 13

Ryan took the last few puffs of his pen that he needed to get his anxiety in check before locking it back up with the alcohol in the safe he'd bought for his bedroom closet. He hadn't accumulated much alcohol in the apartment yet, but there was a bottle of whiskey he'd been chipping away at along with a bottle of Dom that Mar and Jake had bought him as a housewarming present.

Ryan Baylor was buggin'.

Hayes would be there soon, and Ryan was beyond excited to see him; he missed him like crazy. But he was quickly regretting the decision he'd made to not only invite TK into the equation, but also, inadvertently, Joss Koskinen, because he was so hot and such a good lay that apparently, Ryan couldn't tell him no.

Why don't you just invite the rest of the fucking Lightning over and have an all-out gangbang while you're at it, dickhead?

It wasn't like he wasn't going to get back together with Hayes. Honestly, he was unsure what he was even waiting for at this point, but he surmised that there was some deeply rooted desire to make Hayes continue to pay for what he'd done. They'd been through the family counseling, having successfully done everything Dr. Rosa had advised them against doing when it came to additional sex partners, with both of them having resolved to the fact that they were grown ass, consenting adults and capable of making their own decisions.

Right?

Ryan wasn't stepping out on Hayes with Joss; they weren't back together.

And the more he thought about it, the more he decided that might have been the reason why they weren't back together.

Selfishly, Ryan didn't want to give up what he had going on with Joss, just like he was sure Hayes didn't want to give up what he had going on with TK…whatever the fuck that was. If they, you know, combined efforts, it wasn't really cheating, right?

Wow, this sounds familiar, he thought, as he remembered the failed open relationship he'd tried out with Amara last year and what a complete dumpster fire that'd ended up being.

And, in true Ryan Baylor fashion, here he was, doing the same damn thing again and expecting a different result.

Wasn't that the accepted definition of insanity?

A knock on the door snapped him out of his self-deprecation and he made his way over to it. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and turned the handle.

Opening it slowly, he found himself face to face with Travis Kadin. He was wearing a backward black hat, dark gray sweatpants, and a red Under Armour compression shirt that clung not only to the barbells that pierced each of his nipples but also to his perfectly chiseled abs. He smelled like cigarette smoke, with a backpack slung over one shoulder and a reusable grocery tote in each hand. "Hey," Ryan said, pulling the door open wider and stepping aside. "Come on in, man."

"Thanks," TK replied quietly, as he walked down the long hallway that led to the living room, with Ryan following. "I, uh, so Ty said you can fuck up some fajitas." He raised both shoulders, putting attention on the grocery bags. "I'm a pretty bomb-ass cook, so I figured I'd make dinner for us tonight. I mean, if that's OK."

"Yeah, of course." Ryan gestured for TK to follow him as he led him around the corner to the insanely large kitchen, complete with double wall ovens, a flat top cooking surface and an indoor grill with a massive range hood, a Sub-Zero fridge that blended in with the cabinets, a wine fridge, concrete countertops, and a huge island with a double sink.

"Holy shit, this is nice," TK marveled, setting the bags on the counter.

"Yeah, I, uh, don't really know what to do with any of it. I can grill chicken and make rice and vegetables. Aside from that?" He shrugged, watching TK begin to unpack the bags.

"Well, I'm gonna use the shit out of it tonight, that's for damn sure." He grabbed the bag that had the cold items inside and wandered around, confused. "Fridge?"

"Oh, right here," Ryan said, moving to open the door for him.

"Oh, you fancy, huh?" he joked, putting the items into the nearly bare refrigerator. "Kinda nice how the NHL pretty much eliminates the need for groceries, huh?"

"It really is. The food is unreal."

"The food, the clothes…ugh, I miss it," TK said sadly, closing the doors. "Got no one to blame but myself for fucking it up though."

"You didn't fuck anything up," Ryan corrected, sitting down at one of the island stools. "Just a blip, man. You'll be back in no time."

TK laughed uncomfortably. "Mind if I grab some water?"

"Sure," Ryan pointed to the cabinet where the glasses were, as TK grabbed one. "The water dispenser is on the inside of the fridge. It took me like, three days to figure that out."

Ryan eyed him up as he filled his glass, his cock twitching as he thought about how it would feel to flick his tongue across those barbells and what noises might escape from him as he did so.

Fuck.

TK slammed the glass of water and set the glass in the sink. "Is, uh, Ty on his way?" he finally asked. He appeared nervous.

Ryan nodded. "Had to finish up some of his house chores after training. Said he'd probably be here around 6." They both turned to look at the clock on the microwave.

5:27 p.m.

Neither of them said a word for a bit.

Ryan's eyes followed TK as he headed toward the floor to ceiling windows that composed the entire back wall of the apartment, with two of them being sliding glass doors that led to a large balcony overlooking the bay. "Mind if I head out for a smoke?" he asked.

"Yeah, no problem." He filled up a red Solo cup with water and followed TK outside, set it on the cocktail table, and sat down on the L-shaped sectional, watching TK lean over the glass railing and puff away. "Here's a cup for the butt."

TK turned to face him. "Oh, yeah. Thanks."

"Why don't you sit down?" Ryan asked, patting the cushion. "You don't…you don't have to be nervous. I mean…you just…don't have to be."

Shaking his head, he took a long drag, dropped the butt into the cup, and had a seat on the opposite side of the couch. "Right."

"What?" Ryan asked, staring at him.

"What do you mean what? I don't think I've ever even had an actual conversation with you, and I know you fucking hate me…"

"I do not hate you," Ryan cut him off.

"I would if I were you."

"Well, you're not me."

TK shrugged. "That I'm not. Kinda wish I was though."

Ryan scoffed. "Yeah? And why's that?"

"Have you seen yourself? I mean, people don't get much more perfect than you, pretty boy."

"Don't call me that," Ryan replied immediately. "Please."

"Sorry. Old habits."

"And, uh, you're not so bad yourself there." The next part just came out. "Good enough to catch my boyfriend's attention."

"There it is," TK said, slapping his thighs and throwing his hands in the air. "Was waiting for that."

"I'm…sorry."

"Ryan, listen to me. I've…I've wanted to talk to you for a long time about this but I didn't know what to say…"

"We really don't need to talk about this," Ryan interrupted, his posture stiffening. "Really. Water under the bridge, man."

"Can I talk? Please? Step nine, man. Making amends."

Ryan nodded, settling back down onto the couch.

"I, uh," TK began, picking at his fingers in his lap and staring at them. "OK, so. I am truly sorry for the rift I caused between you and Ty. I want you to understand something though. The night that we…"

"Yep. I get it. No need for details."

"Right, but he didn't intentionally cheat on you, Ryan."

"Teek, I'm way more upset that you shot him up with heroin than the fact that you came all over his dick, dude. Both suck, but that could've killed him."

"I know that. And believe me, I've apologized profusely to him for that. But back to the cheating. He would never. I don't think I've ever met someone more idiotically in love with another human being than Ty is with you. You are the only thing he ever talks about. If he never played another game a day in his life, he'd die happy as long as he got you back. He thought he was with you in that bed.

"Heroin is fucked, man. The minute he realized it wasn't, it stopped. He was hard as fuck, ready to cum, and he stopped it, Ryan. I swear on my mother's grave, OK? You wanna be angry at someone? Be angry at me. I should've said no, but I didn't. I pushed him away a bunch of times, but eventually I gave in. And I'm sorry that I fucked up your relationship. I don't know…"

TK paused, as he noticed the tears running down Ryan's face, even though he'd been attempting to hide them.

"I am fucking sorry, Ryan. I really am." He pulled off his hat, tossed it onto the couch next to him, dipped his head forward and raked his fingers through his hair. When he lifted his head back up, Ryan noticed he was crying, too. "I'm fucking sorry."

Ryan nodded. "Thanks," he choked out.

"And I'm supposed to like, make amends rather than simply apologize. But I don't know what that looks like for this, man. I can't give back what I took from you. I don't know how to truly make this right, but like, I want you to know that you saved my life. I'd have gotten arrested on that beach if it wasn't for you, and I'd have never gone to rehab if it wasn't for you. You called my family, man, set that shit up for me. You didn't…you didn't have to do that." TK was all but sobbing.

"You needed help, Travis."

"I never thanked you, Ryan. But I am now. Thank you for saving my life. Thank you for not beating my fucking face in for what happened with Ty. Thank you for opening your home to me even though I don't deserve to be here. You? Are a good person. A real one. I hope you know that. And it's easy to see why Ty is so in love with you. He's miserable without you, Ryan. All he talks about is you."

Shut up.

Shut up.

Shut up.

Shut up.

No luck.

"Even while he's jerking you off on an arena toilet?"

TK leaned over and buried his hands in his face again.

"I'm sorry," Ryan said immediately. "I…shouldn't have said that. That's not fair. We're not together and he's free to do whoever he wants. I…sometimes I don't think. I just speak. It's this whole thing I'm working on."

"It's just because he's jealous of Joss Koskinen, that's why. The day he found those pictures of you two online? He was a wreck. Ryan, I'll make this up to you somehow. I swear to God, I will. I don't know how, but I'm gonna make this up to you. I'm gonna."

Ryan watched him take out another cigarette, light it, and walk back to the railing. He took a drag, dipped his head back, exhaled the smoke, and turned back toward Ryan. "Tell me how I make this up to you."

Against his better judgment, he scanned TK from head to toe, taking in once more the sight of those barbells and the outline of his dick in his sweatpants. Ryan sighed, biting his bottom lip and nodding slowly. "I, um…I might have some ideas."

His eyes locked on Ryan's, he slowly brought the cigarette up to his lips, took another long drag and crossed his arms. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Alright. And uh, just so we're clear, Ryan. I'll do anything."

Ryan stood up, adjusted himself, and walked toward TK. "Anything?"

"Anything."

Just as he approached him, his phone buzzed, taking them both by surprise.

H: Pulling up now, baby.

He stuffed his phone into his pocket. "Good to know, Teek," he said, turning away and going back inside, closing the sliding glass doors behind him and leaving TK alone on the balcony.

Tucking his boner under his waistband, he pulled the door open and within seconds, Hayes had dropped his bag and jumped onto him like a spider monkey, wrapping his arms around his neck and his legs around his waist. Ryan held him up by his ass as he felt him sobbing onto his shoulder. "Hey," Ryan said quietly, kissing the side of his face.

"Hey. Oh, I fuckin' missed you so much. I'm so happy to be here with you." He wouldn't let go.

Ryan removed his hands, and finally, Hayes slinked off him and picked his bag up. They walked down the hallway until they got to the living room. "Damn, Rook. Looks like Raymour and Flanigan up in this bitch. Seriously, who picked out your furniture? ‘Cause I know it wasn't you."

Koski.

"Um…Mar helped. Anyway, Teek is…"

They heard the sliding glass door open as TK stepped back inside. He and Hayes looked at each other. "Hayes," he said with a nod.

"Teek."

"Grab your bag, I'll show you to your room," Ryan instructed, leading them both down the second hallway to the bedrooms. He pushed the first door on the left open. "This is yours. I…haven't really gotten around to ordering spare bedroom furniture yet, so I borrowed an air mattress from a friend. It's got a pump, and there are some sheets and blankets in the closet. Bathroom's across the hall."

"Thanks," TK replied, going inside and quickly shutting the door behind him.

Hayes followed Ryan inside the master bedroom, closing the door behind him and throwing his bag onto the couch in the sitting area. One entire wall was floor to ceiling windows with another sliding door that led to a private balcony, and there was a massive walk-in closet complete with built-in dressers, an entire wall for shoes, and an island. The master bathroom featured an oversized jacuzzi tub in the corner with an adjacent shower that had two large shower heads, a bench, and a heated floor, double sinks, and a built-in vanity. "You made it, eh, Rook?"

Ryan nodded, taking it all in. "Still feels surreal, that I get all this to play a fucking game for a living, man. Sur. Real."

"You deserve every bit of it, baby," Hayes said, launching himself onto the Wyoming king bed. "Finally got your bed frame?"

"Yep," he replied, leaving out the part about Joss having helped him put it together last night and then smashing his hips into the mattress on it right after.

At least he'd remembered to change the sheets this morning.

Ryan sat down, scooting over until he was right next to Hayes, who proceeded to push him back onto the bed and straddle his hips.

"Hey. I wanna show you somethin'," Hayes said, reaching for the hem of his shirt and peeling it up over his head slowly.

Ryan's breath hitched as he spotted the enormous, semi-healed tattoo that took up the entire left side of Hayes's chest.

His very first tattoo, right over his heart.

It was a chess piece.

A rook.

The tattoo was done exclusively in black ink and the detail was exquisite. The cylinder of the rook was brick with the base and top concrete, and slight cracks were visible throughout all parts of the castle.

"Hayes. It's…it's…"

"It's us, Rook. Yeah, there are some cracks, but it's still standing strong, refusing to fall, refusing to give up. I refuse to give up on us, baby."

"It's…gorgeous," Ryan whispered, wrapping his hands around Hayes's back and pulling him forward so he could kiss it. "I love it."

"Right over my heart. It belongs to you, anyway, Rook. It always has."

Ryan deftly flipped Hayes over onto his back, climbing on top of him. He leaned down to kiss the tattoo once again, then moved up to Hayes's lips and planted a series of soft kisses against them. "Hayes?"

"Yeah, Rook?"

"I'm ready."

"Seriously? Are you for real right now?" Hayes asked, unable to contain his excitement.

"Yeah. Forget the past. I'm proud of you, I love you, and there's no one who even comes close to you, Tyler. Not even fucking close. I wanna be your boyfriend again. Is that OK with you?"

Hayes laughed as he squeezed the life out of him. "Fuckin' right it is!"

They lay there together, crying against each other for a bit, totally lost in the rhythm of the other one's breathing.

Ryan finally let go and sat up, Hayes following suit. "So, uh, what are we gonna do?" Hayes motioned in the direction of the spare bedroom. "With him."

Remembering their romp in the back of the Jeep, Ryan exhaled, then slid a hand slowly up the front of Hayes's chest, across the tattoo, and stopped at his throat. He wrapped his fingers around it and squeezed lightly, but firmly, then pressed his forehead against his boyfriend's. "What we're gonna do with him is have some fun. Maybe the two of you should work together to show me just how sorry you really are." Ryan tightened his grip. "And we're not stopping until I've been convinced. Understood?"

Hayes, wide-eyed, nodded obediently.

"Good."