#savingprivatesimmons

Three months.

Ninty one days.

There were two-thousand one-hundred and eighty-four hours between his flights, to be exact. (Jon had counted.) That was how long he was going to be away from Ryan.

The biggest downfall to being the best reporter the Daily LS Times had ever seen was the fact that his boss liked to fly him out to other states for jobs, and this opportunity was one of the biggest he’d ever been given. Of course he was going to take it, even if it meant being away from his boyfriend for so long.

It wasn’t every day that he was handed the opportunity to be the host of a news-slash-quiz show, so despite the fact that he had been given six months before shooting began, he still found it difficult to say “see you later” to Ryan at the airport. Ryan had loaded Jon’s luggage into the trunk of his Adder and had taken him the long route – the one less guarded by police and speed cameras – and Jon felt somewhat nostalgic as Ryan went over the speed limit by tenfold.

Ryan had driven round the wide, open roads of Los Santos with Jon riding shotgun to their first date; they drove to the peak of a hill up in Blaine County as the sun gradually set, and had shared a picnic by moonlight. The view of Mount Chiliad from their position had been beautiful, and Jon couldn’t help but whip his camera out and snap some photos. Mostly of Ryan (and one of those pictures still resided on his desk at work today).

Jon had been somewhat tempted to change his phone lockscreen from the selfie the two of them had taken together from the rooftop of Jon’s apartment one evening, to the picture he kept on his desk, but he decided against it. He had digital copies of all of his photos anyway; if he ever felt homesick (and he knew he would) he’d flick through the seemingly endless photo albums on his laptop.

That had been one of the first things he had made sure to pack. Then his camera, then his other equipment, then his hard drives, then his toiletries and other essentials… But then he’d started to pack his clothes and Ryan had to intervene.

“Jon, you’re leaving for three months, not three years.” He had declared, a slightly awe-filled expression on his face as he stared in disbelief at Jon, who was sitting on his third suitcase in order to make everything fit. “Take some clothes out, dear. They’ll still be here when you get back.”

“Ugh,” Jon grumbled, sighing as he stood up and raked a hand through his disheveled hair for the thousandth time that day. “But what if I need it?”

“If you need it that badly then I’ll send it to you in the post.” Ryan replied, flipping open the suitcase and pulling out a winter coat – something he knew Jon wouldn’t need in his three months away.

“But-” Jon reached out for the coat but Ryan held it away and out of reach, smirking down at his boyfriend.

“No buts. Just let me help you, okay?”

“Fine,” Jon retorted, but his pout faded as Ryan kissed him chastely on the lips. After that, Jon was far more compliant as Ryan pulled various items of clothing out of his overstuffed suitcase and declared that Jon wouldn’t need it.

Packing, overall, had been a nightmare, but Ryan had certainly made it a lot less tedious.

It had all felt so surreal up until the morning Jon was due to leave. He only got out of bed when Ryan all but dragged him up, and he slumped into Ryan’s car with a heavy heart and a strange stirring in his stomach. Initially he had worried that he was coming down with something, but then he lost himself in laughter as Ryan sped through the streets of Los Santos, only quietening as they found themselves in a more urban area of the city, barely a few minutes from the airport.

After Ryan parked the car, Jon froze.

His head was spinning and he felt as if he was about to pass out; the car felt all too warm but a shiver shot down his spine.

But then Ryan’s hand was on his shoulder and he was bringing him in for a comforting embrace, the contact warm and reassuring. The worn, soft leather of Ryan’s jacket felt familiar on his face and he allowed Ryan to kiss his forehead before gently stroking his hair.

They remained in a companionable silence for a few relaxing minutes – the calm in the eye of the storm – before pulling back reluctantly.

“You’re gonna do great in Vice City,” Ryan confidently declared, a soft smile on his face. “I believe in you.”

Jon’s chest gave a pang of heartache and he surged forwards, clumsily leaning on the handbrake and pressing his lips firmly against Ryan’s, savouring the contact. Ryan’s arms were worm as they encircled his shoulders and brought him closer, his lips were just as soft and welcoming as they always were, and Ryan was just as eager as he was every single time they kissed.

There wasn’t a single kiss that Ryan didn’t put his all into; he would always ensure that when they parted, they would both always be panting for breath. Jon allowed Ryan to consume his senses, overwhelming him with his presence in the most addicting of ways. In all honesty, if Jon didn’t have a flight to catch then he would’ve let Ryan completely devour him in that car.

But as reality fell over Jon like a crashing wave, he reluctantly broke the kiss and gently rested his forehead against Ryan’s. They allowed themselves a few more moments to relish in the feeling of being together, simply basking in the way Jon’s hair brushed against Ryan’s face and the way Ryan was slowly rubbing circles over the back of Jon’s hand. But then the clock on the dashboard caught Jon’s eye and he sighed and leaned back.

The walk into the airport went too fast for Jon’s liking. Before he knew it, his suitcases were already checked in and he was stood with his tech bag slung over one shoulder and his backpack in his hand, nervously hovering near Departures next to Ryan.

“Don’t have too much fun without me, alright?” Jon said, his forced smile feeling less faux when the corners of Ryan’s lips quirked up in amusement.

“I won’t, don’t worry,” Ryan assured, “and I’ll make sure Geoff doesn’t plan any jobs that are too cool either. I wouldn’t want our photographer to miss out on any wonderful opportunities for pictures.”

“Good,” Jon replied, but his heart gave a lurch at the very mention of Ryan’s job. “Be careful, alright?”

Ryan smiled and gently cupped Jon’s cheek with one hand, the other brushing a few stray strands of his hair out of the way. It was cliché, but Jon wouldn’t have asked for anything else. “I’m always careful,” Ryan declared confidently, ducking his head down to press one soft, lingering kiss on Jon’s lips before pulling back once more. “Call me when you land, okay?”

“I will.” Jon said, sneaking one final kiss before preparing himself to turn around and walk away. It would hurt, but it was necessary. Ryan nodded once and every single fibre of Jon’s being screamed ‘stay, stay, stay,’ but he pushed those niggling thoughts aside and began to turn on his heel. “I love you, Ryan.”

“I love you too, Jon!” Ryan replied just before Jon began to walk towards Departures. “Have a wonderful time, dear!”

Jon’s knuckles were white as he squeezed tightly onto the strap of his bag, but he forcefully steeled himself and continued to walk further into the airport.

Jon’s knuckles were white as he squeezed tightly onto the strap of his bag, but he forcefully steeled himself and continued to walk further into the airport. It bustled with people but the only thing Jon could focus on was the fact that he was currently handing the security lady his passport and ticket to the opposite side of the country. He was going to be spending three whole months away from Ryan in a city he'd never been to before and Jon took a deep breath to calm himself.

He couldn't get wound up now; he'd at least wait until he was safely on the plane. At least then he would be comfortably sat in his seat and he could freak out all he wanted. So in the end, he did just that.

Luckily he had an aisle seat and the elderly couple who sat on the same row as him fell asleep almost instantly. According to the old lady, they had just caught this flight after their previous one from the south of Argentina so they were absolutely exhausted and needed the rest. For that, Jon was grateful because it meant he could order something strong and alcoholic from the menu and relax as the buzz set in.

He was a lightweight and barely ever drank (simply because Ryan never drank so he didn't particularly see any reason to go out of his way to buy alcohol unless it was for a party or special occasion) so after a chilling beer and a shot or two, he was happily able to fall asleep. There wasn't much turbulence and nobody bothered him, so sleep came easy and before he knew it, he was already disembarking the aircraft and hauling his too-heavy suitcases onto a trolley before hailing a cab and texting Ryan a quick 'just landed, gonna catch a cab and call you when I get to my hotel. xxx'

He had barely even stepped foot inside his hotel room before Jon was pulling out his phone - smiling fondly at the lockscreen - and clicking on Ryan's name.

"Hey, dear, how was the flight?" Ryan's familiar voice instantly calmed Jon's nerves and he flopped backwards onto his bed and focused on Ryan's voice.

"Eh, I slept through most of it." Jon replied. "Everything ran smoothly and we were only delayed by about half an hour."

"Only," Ryan echoed, the hint of a smirk to his voice.

"So, how was your day?" Jon asked, just knowing that listening to the antics of the Fake AH Crew would make him feel right at home. Ryan sighed in resignation and Jon smiled; he'd bet any amount of money that Geoff had them all do something pointless and stupid... Either that or Gavin accidentally shot someone (again).

"Well, it was mostly just a few bits and pieces of planning here and there, but then Geoff had us running shitty errands all day." The disgruntled huff that followed Ryan's grumbling made Jon really wish he could have been there, if only to grin at the pout his boyfriend would be wearing. He'd probably also try to kiss it off, but he didn't let himself think about that. He'd only get too homesick too quickly.

"Aww, what did he have you do?" Jon queried with a sympathetic tone, and when Ryan launched into a detailed description of the silly things Geoff had them do - from threatening a cashier to stealing a box of golfballs from the local course ("they're important, okay?" Geoff had reasoned), it was all ridiculous and completely expected of the mob boss. Everything Geoff did was elaborate, extravagant, and often seemingly useless.

As Ryan continued to ramble, Jon felt his eyes start to droop. He compromised by shuffling the pillows around on his semi-comfortable bed and closed his eyes, letting the soothing sound of Ryan's voice consume him. It was one of Jon's not-so-secret pleasures; he'd often pick a certain poem or short story out for Ryan to read at bedtime. Ryan would typically roll his eyes and claim that his voice wasn't that nice to listen to, but he would always comply. He'd do anything for Jon, and Jon would do anything for Ryan.

In a way, that was why they worked so well together. They'd go to the ends of the earth to keep the other safe. And as Ryan continued to talk about his day, about Geoff being an asshole, about Michael making him laugh, about Jack driving his car so fast around so many corners that Gavin threw up, about anything and everything that came to mind, Jon began to find that he had slowly started to drift off to sleep. Ryan clearly didn't seem to mind, since he continued to talk long after Jon stopped responding, only hanging up the phone when all he could hear was the soft sound of Jon quietly snoring.

When Jon woke up the next morning he did so with a groan of frustration when he realised that he had to be ready for the first day of work by 4pm and it was already 11am. He unpacked quickly, hastily shoving things in drawers and cursing himself for not bringing any spare coathangers.

And when he was finally ready for work, he had to dart back to his hotel room at least four times to grab things he had forgotten. Luckily he'd only been in the lobby, but the trek back to the lift and across the floor to his room was still one he'd rather not have to continuously make.

His first day of work went swimmingly albeit incredibly fast. It was over in the blink of an eye and Jon was already curling up in bed, ready for a good night's sleep.

He probably should have expected that it would continue to be like this: demanding and fast-paced. The next few weeks were, in Jon's own words, "hectic as fuck," he had told Ryan one evening over Skype (which had become their main point of contact). They managed to Skype almost every single evening and according to Ryan, Geoff had even made an effort to refrain from organising heists and jobs in the evenings. Although in his defence, nobody in their right minds would deny the Vagabond anything he wanted.

Hosting the show was incredible - an enthralling experience like no other - as he got to report factual information as well as keep the show light-hearted and comedic. He had never worked on a set as big as the show's own private studio, he'd never worked with a crew as big as this, and it was generally all incredibly worth the cons.

But of course it all had to go to shit at some point.

----------------------------

After shutting the door behind himself with a satisfying click, Jon kicked off his shoes and wriggled out of his form-fitting jeans and button-down shirt, replacing them with a comfortable t-shirt and pyjama pants. He sighed, infinitely more comfortable as he made himself a cup of decaf coffee before setting it on the nightstand and flopping face-first onto the bed.

He instantly regretted the decision the second his face hit the uncomfortably hard mattress. However, after an adequate amount of squirming and plumping up pillows and arranging blankets, he was finally comfortable. He sat cross-legged in the centre of the bed, his back leaning against the headboard of the bed in his hotel room.

The recording hours had been painfully long and tedious today, so he was grateful for the soothing warmth the steaming mug of coffee supplied. Runners had made mistakes, the guests on the show had been disruptive, the director had been particularly irate, and overall it had managed to fit Jon’s #1 spot in his ‘List of Very Bad Days.’

Typically after a Very Bad Day, Jon would storm through the front door of his and Ryan’s apartment; Ryan would lick his wounds, soothe his whirring mind, and they’d fall into bed together, hence making Jon’s Very Bad Day a lot better than it had started off as. If Jon hadn’t been the opposite side of the country, he would have done exactly that.

So, he decided as he opened up his laptop, he’d have to make do with a Skype call.

As always, seeing the beautiful face of his loving boyfriend on the screen brought an instant smile to Jon’s face. He was sat in a similar position to Jon, but he recognised the headboard and surroundings as that of Ryan’s side of their bed.

“Evening, dear, are you okay?” Ryan asked, furrowing his brow as he took in the sight of Jon’s frown and nest of blankets and pillows.

“Everyone kept fuckin’ it up.” Jon stated simply. But then Ryan cocked his head in a fashion that Jon knew meant ‘tell me more, let me help,’ and Jon went off; he complained about the petulant guests, the idiotic runners, the indecisive managers, and everything in-between. Hell, he even spent a good five minutes ranting about some asshole who didn’t wash up their used coffee mug in the on-set kitchen.

The words flowed from his mouth like a river, and when he was finally finished, he sighed and relaxed back into the pillows behind him.

“Feeling better?”

“Eh, a bit.” Jon grumbled, albeit without the sharp tone of bitterness which had been present beforehand. “I’m tense as fuck.”

“I could help you unwind if you’d like,” Ryan suggested with a sneaky quirk of an eyebrow and a cheeky smirk.

Jon couldn’t help the disbelieving grin that worked its way onto his face. “Oh really? And how would you do that?”

“Well, it’d be a lot easier if I were with you right now…”

“Go on, Ryan, let me know what you want to do to me,” Jon said in a tone that he really hadn’t intended to sound as seductive or sexual as it had sounded; and if the way Ryan’s lips parted in a surprised grin was anything to go by, he hadn’t been expecting it either.

“Go on, Ryan, tell me what you want to do to me,” Jon said in a tone that he really hadn’t intended to sound as seductive or sexual as it had sounded; and if the way Ryan’s lips parted in a surprised grin was anything to go by, he hadn’t been expecting it either.

“Jesus, Jon.” Ryan breathlessly muttered, transfixed by the sight of his flustered boyfriend who sat on the bed eagerly awaiting Ryan’s words. “I just… I wanna see you enjoy yourself.” It may have sounded cheesy, but it was all Jon needed to hear before he was licking his lips and raking his gaze down Ryan's body on the screen; he was wearing a simple grey t-shirt and his nicer, darker (and much more form-fitting) jeans. “But hell, Jon, if I were with you then I’d push you up against that headboard and kiss you until we’re both breathless.”

Jon’s breath skipped a beat as he pictured exactly what Ryan was describing. Ryan’s kisses were always addictive and Jon could easily imagine himself surrendering all control over to Ryan, who would absolutely devour him. Just like usual.

“And when you’re too out of breath to kiss me back, I’d work my way down your neck, kissing and teasing and making you feel good. I know how much you love it when I bite your soft skin, ever so gently. Fuck, you make the prettiest of sounds.” As Ryan spoke, his voice took on a richer, more alluring tone that left Jon all but wishing he could be there to feel those lips trace those words along his skin.

“R-Ryan,” Jon stuttered out, cheeks flushing crimson as he stumbled over the words. Hell, Ryan hadn’t even laid a single finger on him and he was already hard in his jeans and falling over his words. “Can I touch myself?”

Ryan must have noticed his desperation because he was softly smiling and replying with a smooth, “of course, dear,” and Jon did exactly that. The first contact between the palm of his hand and his erection through his jeans felt like bliss; he sighed with the relief and continued to palm at his crotch in a slow yet addicting manner.

“Push your laptop back a bit,” Ryan requested, “I wanna watch you. All of you.”

Jon complied without a single hesitation, pushing the laptop back so his entire body was in full view of the camera. Ryan nodded in approval and shuffled around with his laptop, leaving Jon with a perfect view from between Ryan's thighs. He had splayed his legs out so he had one on either side of the laptop and Jon bit his lip when he caught sight of the bulge in the front of Ryan's jeans.

“Go on,” Ryan urged, his tone soft and gentle, contrasting completely with the fire in his eyes. “I want you to enjoy yourself.”

“O-okay.” Jon’s breath hitched and he deftly unzipped his jeans and pushed them down his thighs, just far enough so that he could palm himself through his boxers.

“Slowly.” Ryan warned, and Jon slowed his hand. He paused for a moment before resuming his actions, ensuring that he was slow and steady instead of quick and fast. As much as he craved the touch and the pace, he wasn’t about to disobey Ryan’s orders.

“Go on,” Ryan said, “touch yourself.”

Jon finally relented and let out a desperate keen, shoving his underwear down and allowing himself the pleasure. He shivered as he curled his toes and swiped his thumb over the head of his cock, hips involuntarily bucking into the contact. If he fluttered his eyes closed and tilted his head back he could almost pretend that it was Ryan’s hand. Almost.

“Hey, don’t get too ahead of yourself,” Ryan warned, something domineering hidden in the lust-fuelled voice. “Stop touching.”

“O-okay,” Jon gasped out. He allowed himself three more self-indulgent strokes before reluctantly dropping his hand away. When he glanced up, it was just in time to catch the devious smirk playing on Ryan’s lips. Damn did he want to kiss those lips.

“Alright. Now you can touch yourself, but slowly.” Ryan’s voice had a rich, alluring tone to it and Jon obeyed the order without a single hesitation. He wrapped a hand around himself, the other grabbing a fistful of the sheets, and did just as Ryan said; he stroked from base to tip in slow, lavishing movements that left him almost writhing for more.

“I’d make sure to tease you in those places I know you love being touched,” Ryan declared somewhat breathlessly. Only when he focussed his previously glazed-over eyes on the screen did he realise that Ryan had undone the fly of his jeans and was slowly palming himself through the thin fabric of his boxers. “I’d twist my wrist ever so slightly before teasing the tip because I know how quickly that makes you beg for more.”

Jon let out a gasp – partly because of the jolt of heated pleasure that shot through his body as he did just as Ryan said, but mostly because he was so surprised that Ryan was coming out with such filthy words. When in bed, Ryan’s words were typically those of endless praise and admiration; not addictive dirty talk. Jon wouldn’t deny that it was a good surprise, though.

It was effortlessly easy to settle into a steady rhythm, mimicking Ryan’s most typical tricks and methods of eliciting pleasure from Jon. With more even more encouragement from Ryan, Jon was already thrusting his hips forwards in tandem with his hand’s movement.

His eyes were locked onto the screen. Ryan was smirking at him; his eyes a piercing yet seductive icy blue as he took in the view before him all whilst touching himself just like Jon was. It didn’t take any effort at all to picture Ryan looming over him, hands pinning Jon’s wrists to the headboard as he fucked him harder than Jon had ever experienced.

“When you get back,” Ryan’s voice was low and deep, and his breathing was more like panting than anything else, “I’m going to make you feel so damn good.”

“Fuck, R-Ryan,” Jon’s breath hitched. His skin already felt like it was on fire, and his heart was pounding almost too loud for him to hear. “I need you.”

“I need you too.”

“I-I’m gonna. Fuck, Ryan, fuck-” Jon cried out breathlessly, his eyes only made for the Ryan on his computer screen as sparks shot through his body and he came, moaning out Ryan’s name almost incoherently as he rode out his orgasm. Ryan came barely moments after Jon’s first utterance of his name, and he hunched forwards once he had finished, panting and staring at the exhausted Jon.

They both took a few more moments to catch their breaths before either spoke.

“I’m absolutely going to devour you when you get back.” Ryan declared.

“I look forward to it.” Jon replied, and his devious smirk matched the one on his lover’s face.

The call barely lasted another fifteen minutes, the last of it being spent making quiet promises to call again soon, and “I love you”s were traded with honesty before they both ended the call and fell almost instantly asleep.

1.

-

Ryan hesitated before he clicked to accept the video call. A box popped up with an image of Meg’s face looking expectantly straight at the camera. She was so close to her webcam all of her face wasn’t in frame, and it made him jump a little. His shock must have been the reaction she was hoping for because she let out a witchy little cackle before she leaned back in her seat.

“Hi,” he said hesitantly.

Honestly Ryan wasn’t sure what he should have expected exchanging skype information with his coworker. He liked Meg, sure. That much was obvious. They talked all the time at work, went off on tangents sharing stories and trying to impress each other with jokes on and off their show. They hit it off so immediately their closeness was a running office joke. That last part – the knowledge of how other people viewed their relationship – made Ryan careful to put up careful boundaries and not ask Meg to do much outside of work. He didn’t want her to think he was being inappropriate.

Especially when she already had a boyfriend.  “Hi Ryan!” Gavin leaned into the shot over Meg’s shoulder to beam. “Stop being a hermit. Come out and stretch your wings with us!”

“Uh…” Ryan flicked his eyes up to the lens of his webcam to properly convey his disbelieving look. “Is that why you messaged me? You could have just texted.”

“You’re right! I have your number. I could…” Gavin squeaked gleefully, vanishing behind Meg’s dark folded wing just as suddenly as he had appeared.

Off behind Ryan he could hear his phone buzz as it vibrated on his nightstand. Even though he was pretty sure it was just Gavin he excused himself to check. “I’ll be right back, Meg.”

Then he had to be careful not to knock anything over as he turned and crossed his bedroom in three steps. His apartment was nice, if cramped. The location and the great balcony he could enter and exit his home from more than made up for the fact that he was constantly forgetting himself since he felt so loose and comfortable in his own space and knocking shit over. To be fair the same probably would have happened anywhere whether he lived in a shoebox or a goddamn mansion. He was a large man with what he felt was an overly large wingspan like some kind of ungainly land-locked albatross. (Lamps I through IV never stood a chance against sleepy Ryan; he would remember their sacrifices forever.)

When he managed to cross the room and sit back down phone in hand without so much as bumping a bookshelf, Ryan felt like doing a little celebratory dance in his seat. Maybe the only message he’d received was a cheeky little text from Gavin that read “ryan i’m texting you!” but the real reward was the fact that he hadn’t made a complete idiot of himself in front of a friend.

“Haywood,” Meg said pensively, steepling her fingers in front of her face like a cartoon villain. Well. Maybe he was been wrong.

“Huh?” he looked up to see her serious face cracking into a smile and then frantically around his room to see what she could possibly be laughing at him about. Was his room a mess? No. Were his feathers sticking out at odd angles? No more than Gavin’s formed an unruly mess Ryan fingers itched with the desire to groom back into place on a daily basis.

What was it?

“When did you get home?” Meg asked, face carefully blank.

“Uh, about a half hour ago? Maybe? Why?” Now Ryan was really getting paranoid. What did he do? Did he forget something at work? Was he supposed to be at a shoot? Meg looked so smug that she knew something he didn’t. Why did enjoy the way she made him squirm under her gaze?

“Gavin’s right. I wanted to call to see what you were up to. We’re meeting some people from work for dinner tonight. We’d love if you stopped by! It looks like you’re settled in for the night though. So tell me, do you take your pants off as soon as you get home? Just like–” Meg mimed slipping off clothes and making a loud zipping sound as best she could sitting down.

Ryan looked down with horror at his lap clad only in boxer-briefs. Had she–? She’d seen– Why did his new, nice clothes have to fit so snugly?

“Aww don’t be sad. Your underwear is cute! At least you didn’t get caught out on a frumpy panties day.” Meg laughed. “Do dudes have days like that? I mean, obviously you don’t have periods you wear your third-best underwear for since you don’t care if that shit gets ruined, but like do you just wear old underwear because you’re not really feeling up to your best?

“I do still have a lot of old, stretched out underwear I haven’t thrown away yet,” Ryan mused, getting sucked into a conversation despite himself. “I think when you reach a certain point new stuff feels nicer so I only really wear those when I haven’t done laundry in too long. It’s more like a penance that way.”

-

2.

-

“Ryan, why don’t you have an iPhone? Do you enjoy having an old piece of shit phone? Oh! Oh, I get it! That’s how you get out of hanging out with us.”

With a sigh, Ryan marked his page with a finger and looked up at his laptop on the pillow next to him. “My phone is fine, Gavin. I hang out with you! I’m just not interested in drinking or going outside in general. Have you seen my skin, Gavin?” Ryan lifted arm up to his laptop. “This ghostly pallor needs careful maintenance. You’ve got a fucking golden tan. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.” He punctuated his disdain with a sulky flap of his wings to get them resettled behind him in bed.

“That’s not healthy! You need to stretch your wings.” To demonstrate Gavin stretched his wings out fully where he sat at Meg’s desk. They weren’t fully in frame. Ryan just knew what was happening. He could tell by the set of Ryan’s shoulders, the angle of his the monstrous feather dusters attached to Gavin’s back.

Maybe Ryan spent a little more time noticing Gavin’s wings than he should have. It was just under the sympathetic itchiness he felt looking at Gavin’s feathers all sticking out at the wrong angles Gavin had really nice wings. They were strong enough to support him through deft turns and some clumsy aerial acrobatics famously made graceful with slow motion cinematography when Ryan wasn’t sure how well he’d do soaring short distances even if he took off from a tall building with wind currents to help him out. Ryan felt like he was too woefully soft and out of shape to dream of keeping up.

“Did you want to talk for a reason? I’m going to go back to reading if you don’t have anything important to say.” Ryan pointedly opened his book back up. “If you want to watch for some reason that’s on you.”

“Ryan, no! You have to entertain me while Turney is away. This is my only chance to have you all to myself. When she comes back she’ll steal you away from me.” The tiny Gavin in the window on Ryan’s screen pouted exaggeratedly.

“Excuse me?”

“What are you wearing?” Gavin asked, just compounding Ryan’s confusion. “Turney said you gave her a cheeky little show when she skyped you last, and I missed it.”

Oh.

Wait, what? “Do you– Are you trying to get me to show you my underwear?”

“What’s your book about? Talk to me,” Gavin said, snuggling down and folding his wings around himself as best he could still sitting.

-

3.

-

“Ryan, I’m so sorry. We’re so sorry!” Meg blurted before Ryan could even say hello.

“Meg, it’s–” He tried to cut in but she talked over him.

“We’re so so sorry. I just–” Meg turned to Gavin seated closely beside her and waited until he nodded and grabbed her hand in silent support before turning back to Ryan on her screen. “Gav and I thought you were on the same page. We like you a lot, and if you’re cool with it, we’d like to date you. I thought you were giving me signals. I’m sorry.”

“I encouraged her. I thought you were flirting back with us,” Gavin chimed in, wings drooping at a pitiful angle.

They both sounded so remorseful Ryan just had to smile at how much they cared about his feelings. He held up a hand to stop the couple before they could start in on another round of apologies. “Meg. Gavin. It’s okay. I’m not mad. I just– I need space. I need a little time to think about it. Is that okay?”

“Of course that’s okay!” Meg said at the same time Gavin groaned out a “Jesus! We’re not monsters.”

Ryan’s cheeks warmed up at their sincerity, their attention focused solely on him.  He liked that they cared. Loved it actually, but he hadn’t been craving their attention. They were both beautiful and kind in their own ways even if Gavin liked to play at being aloof. Ryan was just so used to being single and focusing on projects he wanted to complete that someone he liked showing an interest in him shocked awake long dormant emotions.

“If you want you can tell me why you’re interested in me,” Ryan suggested with a chuckle.

He broke into full blown helpless laughter when Gavin and Meg both answered “your butt” at the same time and then looked at each other in surprise.

-

4.

-

Somehow skype calls with Meg and Gavin had become a regular thing for Ryan. It didn’t really make sense because they lived a short drive away, and he used to only use the messaging service to talk to family back home or far-flung friends he didn’t have much of a chance to meet with in person anymore. Still, Ryan appreciated that his new girlfriend and boyfriend were taking it slow. They were allowing him to come to them to prevent another fiasco like the Kissing Incident last month.

Ryan was more than willing to go to them, but first there was something he needed to do.

And it was a secret.

“I’m still not telling you.” Ryan reached over his shoulder to undo the snaps keeping his shirt in place around his wings.  He dipped his head down, tucking his chin against his chest so Gavin and Meg couldn’t see his amused little grin.

They were both leaning in close to look at him in all his pasty glory. Suddenly he was struck with a strange wish that they could have seen him ten years ago back when he was really cute before he filled out and his hairline changed. Meg was a legitimate model who actually knew what she was doing, and Gavin was… Gavin. Ryan wasn’t really sure what he was doing.

“Your nips are looking pretty nice today,” Meg commented.

Ryan licked a finger and dragged it in a circle around his right nipple. “Yeah, they’re pretty hard.”

Meg’s face scrunched up with laughter. “Why did you lick your finger?”

“How much do we have to pay you to take it all off? You’re like a cam girl, Ryan,” Gavin added.

Ryan joined in this time as Meg started laughing so hard she couldn’t quite get out her question about how Gavin would know how streamed porn goes. Even as he was dying thinking about who would possibly want to watch him ham up pleasuring himself, Ryan actually thought about doing just that. It was actually seemed like it could be hot.

He looked directly at his webcam’s lens and fluttered his eyelashes. “Any requests?”

“Pants off!” Meg started chanting. “Pants off! Pants off!”

“Pants off? Do you mean pants pants or American pants?” Gavin’s eyes got a little wide.

Ryan pushed away from his desk and stood up to get his bottom half in the frame. He started humming and off-key little tune to a new chorus of surprised laughter, throwing in some swingy hip movements as he unzipped his pants. It was probably among the least sexy things Ryan had ever done and yet he could feel himself start to get excited. Gavin and Meg just looked so good helplessly giggling. They looked so fond it made him want to do something completely outrageous for them.

“Please never dance ever again,” Gavin wheezed.

“You are so white, Ry-Ry. You have no rhythm.” Meg pressed her face against Gavin’s shoulder. “Oh my god. I can’t wait to get you in a dance class for Free Play.”

“Oh?” Ryan pushed his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear teasingly for a moment. Then he just sat back down and scooted into place at his desk. “I guess you don’t want to see more. You want to play a game tonight?”

As Meg and Gavin talked over each other trying to beg him to continue, Ryan just crossed his arms over his bare chest and leaned back in his chair to carefully stretch his wings.

-

5.

-

“You look tired, Gavin,” Ryan said even though he wasn’t really one to talk. He was lying on his stomach in bed with his laptop in front of him so he could watch Meg and Gavin with his chin propped on his folded arms. This time the two of them were in their own separate boxes because Meg was still in Texas and Gavin was away on a last minute shoot.

For the first time Ryan was feeling actual distance in his pseudo-long distance relationship. Waiting felt different when he knew he couldn’t just hop in his car and go to Gavin.

“I wish I was home. Everything’s going tits up and Dan is no help.” Gavin let out a frustrated sigh. “They flew me out here for no reason.”

“Aw, you’ll be back soon, baby.” Meg smiled softly. She was curled up in her desk chair and absently playing with one of her dark brown feathers that had fallen out.

Ryan could have been there with her.

He knew he could leave at any moment to spend the night with Meg and was sure she’d welcome him with open arms, but he didn’t want to go when Gavin wasn’t there too. At least not for his first time roosting at their house.

“When you come back…” Ryan started.

“Yeah?” Gavin prompted when Ryan got too distracted looking at his and Meg’s faces on his screen to continue his thought.

“When you come back I want to stay with you.” When both of their faces lit up Ryan hurriedly added, “For a few days maybe? If you’ll have me.”

Gavin just got more excited. “Ryan!”

“Oh if we’ll have you? ‘I’m Ryan Haywood. I don’t want to impose. I’m too much of a gentleman. I suddenly don’t remember any of the times you told me I’ve got an open invitation to spend the night with you whenever I want.’ Gee, Ryan, it’s not like we love you or anything like that.” Meg’s Ryan impression was getting worse if that was possible, but she had a point under the teasing.

“I love you and Gavin too.” Ryan closed his eyes and smiled, settling in to listen to his favorite people chatter.

-

+1 Time He Flew

-

Ryan raised his headphones off of his ears when he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. “You leaving?”

“Yeah, coming over tonight or will I catch you on Skype?” Gavin asked, one hand on the door frame.

“No, let me shut down. I’ll fly home with you. I didn’t bring my car in today.”

If Gavin thought anything of the request he didn’t say anything. He waited for Ryan to finish up his work and make sure everything was carefully zipped away in his pockets. They found Meg on the stairs to the roof where most of the company took off and landed if they flew in so as not to clog up the parking lot like civilized individuals. She did a double take when she saw two boyfriends were approaching instead of one, but she didn’t say anything either.

Maybe they were the same as Ryan. When he was younger he liked the hush before a flight when his heart was pumping with the possibility he’d fail and his wings flexed to get a taste of open air before he jumped into the sky. Like most adults eventually he’d lost the taste for such freedom and had gotten used mostly using his wings to glide down from his apartment balcony to the street when he was too lazy to use the stairs.

In secret he trained for weeks building his wing muscles back up so he could fly with Gavin and Meg. They woke up so many long forgotten feelings that he figured he should share this with them too.

Ryan stretched his wings out to their full span and then folded them back up so he count out how many paces back he needed to take to get a running start towards the edge of the roof.

“Your wings are so big, Ryan,” Meg said as she twisted to stretch her shoulders. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you extend them all the way.”

“You know what they say about a large wingspan.” Gavin commented dryly.

“Nice slipstream?” Ryan could imagine it clearly as soon as he said it: all three of them flying in a small v-formation so his smaller lovers could take advantage of his bulk to let him do a little more of the work. It was the next best thing to having arms strong enough to carry them around so he could keep them tucked up close to his sides forever.

“No, big– wait, can we fly in your slipstream? That would be awesome!” Gavin darted over to give Ryan a hopeful kiss on the cheek. “Turney’s too small to keep up. She needs all the help she can get.”

Meg gasped. “Hey! Rude! Keep up with this, asshole!”

The two men on the roof watched Meg run and leap into the air in a flurry of feathers. After a slight dive she evened out and started gaining a little altitude. Her hair matched the sunset and her natural colored wings were like the coming night.

Gavin grinned at Ryan sidelong. His own take off was more reckless; he seemed to hurl himself into the air, but everyone always did joke Gavin was more bird than the rest of them with a beak like that. Where Meg steadily turned to take on the right course, Gavin jerked around in the sky trying his best to circle around her without knocking her out of the sky. Their laughter was caught in the wind, but Ryan was sure they were laughing. At least he was.