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When Sand is done throwing their clothes and one towel into the laundry basket, he finds Ray and hugs him from behind.
“Hi,” he says into Ray’s neck.
Ray leans, full body, back into the hug, humming in reply.
His voice sounds quiet and trembly when he says, “Hi, Sand.”
“Oh,” Sand coos, kissing his neck, “Didn’t we get done crying? We agreed before I started the bath, right?”
Sand is pretty sure he ran out of tears while inside Ray, because Ray’s apology-confession-apology again had reached right into Sand’s core and scraped it out, all messy and bloody and painfully exposed – Ray crying too, of course, the whole time they fucked, leaving him wrung-out and tender by the time Sand had picked him up to convince him to get in the bath. The happiness, the sheer relief of seeing Ray had come to find him, that’s been there the whole time, but it had taken the no more crying promises for all of that to come bubbling up in the bathtub, silly and gleeful.
He's in love, and that doesn’t feel like a curse; he keeps smiling into Ray’s neck.
Ray nods, and when Sand leans over some more, drapes himself around Ray to look at his face, he sees that Ray is blinking rapidly.
Bright, sweet, Ray says, “Uh, we did.”
Sand steers him over to the couch, still hugging him.
Ray plops onto it first, and when Sand leans over to very carefully check his eyes, mock-squinting into them like he’s making an inspection, there aren’t any tears actually threatening to fall.
“As long as you keep your promise,” he says.
It doesn’t come out all-the-way playful, but he is still feeling as tender as Ray seems, so that’s right for him.
Ray pouts and takes Sand’s hands in both of his own, holding them out between them and looking up to Sand as he says, “Asshole, you cried more than me.”
As much as he can while keeping their hands joined, Sand stands up and purses his lips exaggeratedly, looking up to the ceiling as he hums and thinks about whether that’s true. Maybe it is, actually, Sand was definitely sobbing, but there’s one thing Ray can’t deny.
“You went for longer, though.”
“I always do,” Ray fires back at once.
Sand cackles.
Not true at all – but it is true Sand came first this time, so he can’t challenge the obvious innuendo in Ray’s voice.
When Ray pulls at his hands again, Sand holds still for a moment before he gamely steps forwards and climbs onto the couch.
Well, onto Ray’s lap, straddling him, so he can keep looking at his face without having to turn.
“Hi,” he says into Ray’s shining upturned face.
Ray blinks slowly, savouring, and says, “Hi.”
It’s a good position – Sand always forgets how good, actually, the way it forces Ray to tilt his head back to look at him, letting Sand lean down to kiss him and push his shoulders back against the back of the chair. Ray always looks incredible, even in his worst moments, but this way the light shines on his face and exposes him for his sometimes-hidden sweetness.
Leaning in, Sand pauses with their lips inches apart, smiles at him, and Ray lunges up to meet him.
Their lips meet almost chastely, almost shy, and most of Sand isn’t surprised that this is the pace Ray wants to set – it’s not his usual messy desperation, but they got that out of the way during their sobbing fuck earlier, after all.
He mouths at Ray, takes Ray’s lower lip between his own, and then between his teeth to pull apart.
Mouth red, eyes dark, Ray rubs his thumbs over Sand’s hips and says, “There won’t be a next time.”
“What next time?” Sand asks, feeling fond – Ray likes to jump into a conversation in the wrong place, or suddenly answer something from several days before, and always just expects Sand to know where he’s going.
Ray meets his eyes, urgent, and says, “In the bath you told me to listen first, next time. And I promised, and I never meant- I’m so sorry about your back, that’s, it was the worst mistake- but there really won’t be one where I misunderstand you like that again.”
“I don’t think you can-“
“-I mean it, Sand,” and Ray is looking at him with the same desperation from before, so Sand soothes the crinkles at the corner of his eye and nods.
He knows Ray means it, but he also knows who he is – who they both are. Sand gets snappy and sarcastic, Ray jumps and acts on impulse the second it arrives, and even when they’re both trying not to they’ll probably mess up again. That’s why he brought up the bruises then, when they were a little giddy, because he didn’t want to make it something that stood between them forever, but of course Ray insists on coming back to it.
Ray’s like this a lot, startling and unexpected optimism even in between his normally bleak outlook on his own life.
Sand strokes Ray’s hair from the front of his head to behind his ear, no longer crying or giddy, just peaceful as he says, “I know, Ray,” and hopes Ray feels how warm he makes Sand, “We’ll listen to each other, okay?”
Because Sand knows he doesn’t always, either.
He does know how to listen to his body, though, and when Ray nods and he settles back he smirks and adds, “Hard again, huh?”
“You’re setting me up,” Ray scowls, instantly defensive and annoyed even as his dick twitches under Sand, “You climbed into my lap, what am I supposed to do, huh?”
“We just got done fucking,” Sand laughs.
Ray shakes his head.
“It’s been at least an hour, with the bath,” he insists, wide-eyed and sincere.
This time, Sand couldn’t control the smile if he tried, much less stop it, lips moving without his input when he tells Ray, “Man, I don’t think you’re good at measuring time-“
“-Not when you’re here, Sand, I’m only paying attention to you when you’re here,” Ray interrupts.
The unexpected sweetness makes Sand blink and flush.
Ray’s still pouting, making puppy eyes, and Sand strokes the side of his face and realises he’s hard too, Ray’s hands on his hipbones and dick against his ass.
It’s pretty normal for them to immediately fuck up the effects of a bath or shower.
“I don’t want to do extra laundry,” he tells Ray, watching his pout grow more pronounced until Sand adds, “We’ll put our clothes on the other chair.”
And Ray only whines a little bit when Sand stands up – he’s quieted immediately by Sand making eye contact and, a little slowly, stripping off his shirt and boxers. They’d both known pants would just get in the way.
He folds his shirt, puts them on the chair, and says, “Ray?”
Blink-blink-blink, Ray’s so fucking cute.
“Huh?”
Sand hides his face with his hand, feels the laughter in his core and tells Ray, “You were supposed to take yours off too.”
Scrambling, Ray clearly isn’t trying to put on a show for Sand, just getting naked as quickly as possible.
That’s the best kind of show.
Sand doesn’t bother folding Ray’s when he passes them over to him, just dropping them on the chair and returning to the couch, not quite where Ray is-
“-Too far,” Ray protests on cue, but just underneath there should be…
There.
With slightly raised eyebrows (deliberate) and a smile playing around the corner of his mouth (unintentional and impossible to stop) Sand stands up and tosses them to Ray – two sealed condoms and a half-empty bottle of lube.
It’s cute to watch Ray struggle to catch them.
Sand knows he hated gym lessons.
Ray is squinting in mild confusion at the condoms for a second when realisation dawns over him, all visible like a cartoon character, and he lights up and exclaims, “Oh! So we don’t have to wash up again?”
Khun nu, Sand thinks.
There’s no bite – Ray’s just kind of ridiculous, sometimes, and definitely doesn’t think about how hard anything is to clean. He doesn’t know who handles that at the hostel, but it clearly isn’t Ray. A month ago Sand might still have been able to pretend he didn’t find it cute.
“It’s really more for the couch,” he tells him, making his way back to Ray, standing over him again as he turns his attention to the lube, now the Mystery Of The Condoms is solved.
With an odd expression on his face, almost pensive, Ray says, “This is Boston’s favourite brand because it doesn’t fuck with non-latex condoms.”
Boston’s-
Oh, Nick.
Sand knows it’s not been going well, his attempts to make up to Boston, and he’d thought Nick was moving on from all that, but-
“-Saaand,” Ray cuts into his train of thought with a voice that sounds pleading but a face that, in combination with his splayed legs and displayed, hard, cock and the way he’s nakedly leaning back on the chair, just looks kind of sleazy, “Get back on my lap, please?”
He waits.
“Please? Please please please-“
And Sand is laughing again when he puts one knee on one side of Ray’s lap, then swings the other over, straddling him again but not sitting down just yet so Ray has to tilt his head all the way up, and so he has easier access.
It’s not the easiest position to kneel in, but Ray rushes this part anyway, always eager.
He watches Ray tear open one condom wrapper and look up at him with those wide, hopeful eyes and say, “You should cum on me-“
“-Ray, the couch-“
“-No, I know, I was just saying,” he pouts.
Sand lifts Ray’s chin with his hand and shakes his head, raising his eyebrows just a little mockingly to tell him, “I like this couch.”
Ray scowls a little bit as he rolls one condom onto Sand and the other onto himself.
Opening the lube seems to cheer him up, though.
Fingering Sand definitely does.
He’s not like Sand exactly, in this regard – Sand likes to open up Ray slowly, loves to fingerfuck him until he cums and then some more – but he does push two fingers into Sand at once, making him gasp, and grins wide and dirty at him.
“Yeah?” Ray says, not asking for confirmation but for flattery.
Which is normally when Sand gets mean and mocking but today he says, “Uh, you’re very good at that, congratulations.”
Okay, it’s a little sarcastic, but Ray smiles at the compliment anyway.
“I know,” he preens, and Sand kisses him for it.
It’s all the prep they really bother with – they’re both pretty practiced at relaxing into it, after all, and Sand’s thighs are starting to complain.
Once Sand breaks the kiss – he’s reluctant, but it’s necessary – he shuffles a little, feeling ungainly as he tries to line things up right. Ray helpfully moves his own hips, getting his dick in his other hand and Sand feels Ray’s fingers dragging out of him and doesn’t have time to mourn the loss too badly as Ray guides the head of his dick to Sand’s hole.
Solemnly, Sand strokes Ray’s cheek and says, “Thanks,” to watch the way his eyelashes flutter under praise.
And he reaches down with one of his own hands to make sure the angle is right.
Then he sinks down onto Ray’s dick.
It’s a little wider than Sand’s, and Sand loves the feeling of it stretching him out as he sinks down, so he groans and tries to sink slowly, not to spare himself the tiny burn but to hold onto it as long as possible, and he keeps his eyes open to watch the way Ray’s head falls back, eyes closed in pleasure, and Sand drinks it in and sinks down until he bottoms out.
Ass on Ray’s thighs and cock just brushing Ray’s stomach, he reaches out to get a hand around the back of his neck and, smiling softly, says, “Hi,” for something like the seventh time tonight.
He doesn’t feel stupid, as Ray opens his eyes and replies with a languid and smiling, “Hi.”
“What are you doing over there, huh?”
Ray laughs his cackle-laugh and Sand feels it inside him, squeezes the back of Ray’s neck lightly.
Probably in response to that, Ray gives an exaggerated shrug and twitches his hips so his dick moves inside Sand, making him grunt as Ray answers, “Getting up takes effort.”
“Uh, of course, Ray doesn’t do that,” Sand agrees, leaning over slowly, slowly, feeling the way the stretch changes and Ray’s cock moves inside him as he gets close enough to kiss Ray again, slowly biting his lip and licking into his mouth.
They’re both smiling.
This is the best position for their second round, because Ray might have wildly incorrect ideas about how time passes but Sand would bet he’s still a little sore from earlier, and also because it lets Sand control the pace.
He’s not sore from earlier, but he is feeling tender.
Ray wasn’t the only one who had to promise to stop crying.
So Sand rides him slowly, grinding down into Ray’s hips and kissing his face and chin and neck and then face again, sometimes seeing how long he can stretch out a single stroke for and watching the way Ray’s face turns a little pained, then making the next one almost fast, almost rough.
He drives it the way they both like but much, much slower, kissing Ray so softly he almost wouldn’t mind doing that in public and taking Ray’s hand in his so he can wrap them both around his own cock.
The lube is warm on Ray’s hand, by now, he can tell easily even through the condom Ray was resenting.
Sand’s free one is on the back of Ray’s neck and Ray’s is rubbing up and down Sand’s side, matching the speed of Sand’s grinding strokes as he pushes Ray’s cock in and out of him, but when Ray tries to move their hands around Sand’s cock Sand breaks the kiss and says, “Just hold it,” because he feels like he’s caught in a moment and there’s no reason for it to stop.
“Yeah,” Ray agrees, and there’s so much focus and deep, dark wanting in his eyes that Sand has to close his own and rest his forehead against Ray’s as he raises his hips, grinding forwards, feels their tight, warm hands enclosing his cock and feels the stretch inside himself.
Eyes closed, he really feels like he could stay here forever, keep stretching this out and grinding into Ray for the rest of time, but he’s tender and open and almost on the edge of sweet pain as he realises he’s getting close.
Sand’s breathing must change, because Ray whines at him and uses his free hand to grab Sand’s head and pull him into a desperate, not-very-skilful kiss which means his neck is pulled weirdly, actually kind of hurts with Ray’s intensity but he strokes Ray’s neck in response, toying with the soft conditioned hair at the back of it as heat rises inside, clenches in his stomach and in his hole, and Sand kisses back with just as little technique-
Oh, one of them’s broken his promise, because there’s salt on his tongue and tears in their kiss.
It’s either with a groan or a sob that he cums.
“Ray, have you-“
“-Just,” Ray says, “Nearly-“
Sand clenches as Ray rolls his hips under him, less a thrust than a squirm, and it only takes once for Ray to be shuddering and groaning too.
He doesn’t want to move – Ray’s softening inside him, and Sand wants to stay connected like this for a while longer. It’s with closed eyes that he leans over until he’s basically lying on Ray, head slotted by his shoulder.
“Are we a thing, now?” Ray asks.
It takes him a minute to really hear him.
The words make sense, individually, but the meaning…
Lying down like this isn’t great for eye contact, but he can see Ray’s throat as he swallows nervously.
“Ray?”
The throat moves again, swallows, and Ray says, “Just- I mean. I asked you to forgive me, understand me, stay in my life and you said you wanted to,” and his voice is trembling, “You’ve told me how- you know, you want me to be with not drinking all the time, and stuff, we’ve agreed about it, but- are we dating?”
Ray sounds really, really young, when he’s asking for something he doesn’t think he can have.
Still, that he thinks this is out of reach…
“You wanted me fucked-out before you could ask me that?” Sand softly teases.
“Saand, I’m-“
And the genuine nerves in Ray’s voice make Sand feel guilty to have even teased him that much.
He sits up, peels their skin apart and watches Ray’s unsure face, looking the way he always does when faced with a chore he hasn’t yet been handheld through, and Sand feels himself melt.
“Yeah, okay,” he says, knowing he can’t sound reluctant when he’s smiling like this.
Ray blinks, slowly, like he’s catching up.
“Yeah?”
“Okay,” Sand repeats, still grinning. “Why, do you not want to be, or something?”
It’s definitely Ray that broke their promise earlier, because tears are flowing down his face now – Sand leans forwards and hugs him, lets Ray hide the tears in his neck.
Cooing an, “Oh, Ray,” he strokes at Ray’s hair, kisses it, loves him.