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When the first thing Kevin receives upon checking in is an envelope containing a room key, he is far beyond excited. He doesn’t even have to look at the handwriting gracing the paper to know just whose room is pertains to. There’s only one person who plays such a clandestine game. And how Kevin has missed it.
Two months apart from Alastair and only one kiss snatched in the airport departure lounge before they caught different flights to different continents. Ten days since then. All the eagerness he’s had to quell for that long suddenly bubbles forth and he hurries along long, empty corridors.
In the early evening, many of his teammates are probably eating, playing video games or taking a nap and still claiming it Jetlag. He’s glad for it. The last thing he wants is to be pulled into a room and a conversation over his Autumn and trip to South Africa, and to be seen sneaking into Alastair’s room with an extra outfit for the following day.
Kevin dumps his bags on his bed and quickly ponders whether or not to change. He feels like he should, fresh off a long flight not wanting to appear before his lover in anything less than an impeccably attractive state. But then if he changes, he might as well just shower… and he can easily shower in Alastair’s room, with Alastair and enjoy it a hell of a lot more. And to change he’d have to unpack and waste time.
He smirks as he reaches his conclusion, hands already aching to touch all that cool, tanned flesh he’s dreamed of almost every night. He ruffles his hair from where it had been squashed under his cap. His chin is getting a little too prickly, not that the Captain’s ever once complained about it. But enough with his own reflection.
Grasping the gifted key in his hand, Kevin briskly makes his way further down the corridor to Alastair’s room. They stay in this hotel every time they come to Perth so he knows the Captain’s staying in a suite. He probably wouldn’t hear Kevin enter unless he was by the door and Kevin’s just fine with sneaking in. Alastair would only be on his bed reading anyway, or maybe talking to Andy in the sitting room. Either way, Kevin doesn’t think much of just walking in. Even if the Coach didn’t know of their sexual relationship, there’s nothing out of the ordinary about a teammate who has only just arrived coming to see his captain.
The door is shut and locked when he finally reaches it. Usually it would be on the latch if Andy was there (unless it was an important meeting, which rarely took place in Alastair’s room anyway), or if Alastair was hosting his friends. Kevin listens out as he slides the key in, just to make sure he’s not mistaken about his former assumption.
The room is quiet and the bedroom light is on. Kevin’s lips quirk upwards excited and he closes the door as quietly as he can. The room is quiet until the unmistakable sound of Alastair’s moan floats through the open doorway across the suite.
“Ahh, God, you’re so good,”
A lump forms in Kevin’s throat with a size and weight that he hasn’t experienced in a long, long time. It chokes him. He stares at the bedroom doorway blankly, feeling utterly numb with shock until too much emotion sweeps him away. He’s crushed, more than angry. He would definitely be latter if only there hadn’t been the build up of the key, the text message he got when he landed basically demanding company and the fact that the last thing Alastair had said to him was a hushed whisper in a toilet cubicle about how much he was looking forwards to having sex again – like he hadn’t and wouldn’t since they were last together.
“So good, fuck—ahh, c’mon,”
He can hear the bed move and Kevin closes his eyes. It’s easy to imagine Alastair writhing in his pleasure, but to know someone else was making him do so makes him feel sick. He doesn’t even want to know who. He can only hope that when it’s done, Alastair has a damn good explanation and maybe Kevin can forgive him because it’s starting to feel like he’s being mocked. Being cheated on is not something he’s ever experienced before – as ridiculous as it is in their circumstance – and it’s agony that Alastair is the one doing it. His honest, always above-the-table Alastair.
Another moan rings out, sounding like it’s pressed into the back of a hand. It’s the last straw. Kevin turns, hand back on the door.
“Fuck, Kev, more,”
Pausing, Kevin slowly turns his head back. The sickness transforms in wonder, surprise… and arousal.
“Baby, c’mon,” he definitely sounds like he does with Kevin: demanding in a strong, pleasured tone whilst his face is often a touch close to begging. And how clearly he can see that face as it’s above him; Alastair’s urging him to thrust up hard and deep as he rides him. The Captain’s lips red and wet from kissing, eyes glassy when they’re open and every muscle rippling as he moves in a constant, fluid motion.
“You’re so—ahh Kev—so good,”
Either Alastair has spies in Reception and this is all some contrived, borderline evil game, or Alastair is exposing a dependency they’ve only joked at in the past. Either way, Kevin’s love for the man has just grown exponentially. He feels disgusted with himself for doubting Alastair’s feelings for him as he creeps across the main room towards that open bedroom. How could he ever think Alastair could seek release with someone else? No one matches up to him.
Kevin pokes his head around the door and bites his tongue as it ventures out from between his lips. Alastair’s knelt on the bed, just as he does when he’s on top, one hand between his legs, moving some form of black toy in and out of his hole. The other lazily strokes his cock, just as an added stimulus, but the focus is definitely the penetrative motion that his hips jerk towards. He’s never been quite so stunning. Completely bared, there’s the slightest sheen of sweat upon him that makes Kevin wonder just how long he’s been playing with himself. From his experiences, it must be longer than he’s been at the hotel.
“Baby, deeper,” he moans, head back on his shoulders and his hand works the toy more forcefully inside.
The sight and sound and smell of it all has Kevin’s cock stir and he pulls at the crotch of his jeans to try and feel comfortable. But it’s no use. Quietly, he loosens his belt so that he can slip his hands into his underwear and immediately fists around his growing shaft.
He hasn’t touched himself in weeks, anticipating everything the Australia Tour would bring so he has to bite his lips to keep from making a sound. Though, he absently thinks whether or not Alastair would even hear his little noises over his own.
There’s far too much he wants to look at all at once. Alastair’s beauty is enough to get off to alone. His back arches, highlighting every perfectly formed muscle of his abdomen and the plump, firm swell of his bottom. His head back, that long, long neck Kevin loves to drag his teeth down, and his cock, shiny with lube and so engorged because it must have been teased for much too long. And then the way Alastair pleases himself with that little black toy… in a moment of infrequent quiet – like Alastair’s lost himself in a mental fantasy – Kevin hears a low buzzing noise and smirks.
He’s tempted to make his presence known, but he doesn’t know how Alastair will react. If he knows anything about the man – which he does – he’s too close to orgasm to willingly stop, and any surprise will completely impede his pleasure. Kevin’s not so malicious, despite remembering his first thoughts upon entering and the hurt that he had felt, to do that to his lover.
Besides, this is the first time they’ve done anything like this and Kevin’s readily rediscovering the joys of voyeurism. Probably all the more because he’s been starved of the sight of Alastair naked and swept up in ecstasy for far, far too long.
“Fuck, Kev,” Alastair takes to that higher pitch, hands and hips moving much faster. Kevin replicates with his own fist, jerking as roughly as the Captain would ride him, though it’s nowhere nears as slick and tight and warm and perfect and he’s yearning for that body around him.
“Baby, Baby, so close,”
Frantically, Kevin yanks his trousers down with his spare hand. He needs more room. He needs to be naked for this. With Alastair being so impossibly erotic in everyway, Kevin suspects that his orgasm will take him out of the blue, and the last thing he needs is designer jeans soaked in come.
Alastair continues to chant and moan out so loudly that were Kevin to foolishly close his eyes, it would be like there aren’t a couple yards between them.
“Fuck,” he groans under his breath and leans heavily against the doorframe as he jerks himself off to that frenetic pace the Captain fucks himself with. Either because it’s been too long, or maybe because he hasn’t been so turned on in an age, Kevin feels the tingle in his gut that he’s close too. He doesn’t fight it.
Alastair’s finally reaches that point: a hitched breath he sucks in just before he comes with a near-scream of Kevin’s name and it’s so damn gratifying to watch. Even the thought of him has the Captain convulse uncontrollably, shivering, riding out the orgasm as the toy keeps vibrating against his prostate, mimicking how Kevin would keep thrusting into him for as long as he could before finding his own climax.
And Kevin does, clenching his fingers as tightly as he can, imagining that svelte body milking him as his come seeps between his fingers. He moans loudly, leaning all his weight onto the doorframe. His legs feel numb and his muscles shudder with the strain of having to keep him upright.
Through half-closed eyes, Kevin sees Alastair collapse back onto the mattress, legs still spread wide and he pulls the black vibrator from his hole. Even though satisfied for now, Kevin can’t help but groan at the sight, licking his lips. Impossibly, he’s more excited to make love to him the moment his cock’s ready again.
Alastair rolls his head towards him and even with his hazy mind, Kevin realises that it’s not surprise or embarrassment that takes to that patrician, pleased face. It’s smugness. “Oh, hello.”
Scoffing quietly, Kevin lethargically pushes himself away from the wall. It’s hard to walk with his jeans half-way down his thighs, but he manages it. Any thoughts he had before about Alastair playing games with him, wanting him to believe for a moment that he was with someone else, just vanish from Kevin’s mind. He disregards them as foolish, possessive paranoia. Alastair looks at him with such affection.
He grabs a tissue from the bedside table to clean his hand with before perching on the edge of the bed to unlace his shoes. The mattress distorts and the sheets rustle, and Alastair pulls his shirt off, then wraps his warm arms around his neck from behind. The Captain smells of the perfume Kevin buys him, making him smile.
Moist lips explore the curve of his neck and shoulder; hands sliding down his chest as Alastair languorously indulges himself in the physique he loves, and has pretty much always loved. “I missed you,” he whispers into the end of Kevin’s collarbone.
“I guessed,” Kevin leans back into the embrace, sparing one hand from undressing to ruffle Alastair’s damp and tousled hair. The taunting tone changes to a fuzzy mirth that makes Kevin smile and nudge Alastair’s head with his own. The Captain cranes over his shoulder, understanding the intention, and presses their mouths together gingerly. “I missed you too.”
Finally kicking off his shoes and trousers and Kevin allows himself to be pulled backwards, into another kiss. He loses himself in Alastair’s mouth, vaguely aware that he’s being manhandled again until they settle. Face-to-face, their limbs intertwine comfortably and perfectly. They share lazy, long and wet kisses as hands stroke everything they can reach. They’ll fall asleep like this, and should Kevin wake first… well, the vibrator is still in easy reach.