the reluctant lobotomist (fourfreedoms) wrote,
the reluctant lobotomist

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Fic: Lost In Your Rock N' Roll

Title: Lost In Your Rock N' Roll
Author: fourfreedoms
Fandom: Never Back Down
Pairing: Jake/Ryan
Word Count: 1,258
Rating: Hard R
Summary: Jake visits Ryan in college over his thanksgiving break. A sequel to I Can Press My Heartbeat to Yours.
Notes: This has been on my hard-drive forever, and I wasn't sure if I was ever going to add to it, so I figured I'd just throw it up here.

Jake’s break starts the Friday before thanksgiving. Ryan still has school until the Tuesday the week of. He knows this because he checked the schedules in September to see if there was any way for them to steal time together before they got home.

He has to spend nearly two weeks getting Jake to agree to come—he keeps arguing all sorts of pithy things like money and burden and taking up Ryan’s time.

Eventually Ryan calls him up and says, “Don’t make me torture you just so that you’ll let me give you something.”

Jake is silent, but after a long moment of dead air, Ryan can practically feel him throwing his arms up in resignation. When he forwards Jake his itinerary, he gets an e-mail back with only one word in it: asshole.

But Ryan isn’t bothered. Jake will call Ryan an asshole even if he started hand-feeding starving kids in Somalia. “Why are you so happy?” his suitemate, Jay, a kid from Texas who regularly smokes his weight in pot, asks over dinner.

“My boyfriend’s coming to visit in November,” and it’s the first time it’s been out of his mouth. The first time he’s ever said anything about maybe kinda being gay. The entire table stops to stare at him. “Uh, his name’s Jake.”

“Oh, okay then,” Jay cracks, lips tilted sardonically. He turns to Ryan’s roommate, Todd. “Don’t drop the soap, man.”

Ryan laughs and flexes a bicep. “Please, like I’d need such a cheap ploy.”


Jake’s flight is delayed the day he’s supposed to arrive, and of course it’s the one time he didn’t check the flight status before driving to LAX to pick him up. Ryan winds up spending an hour and a half in the baggage claim, watching reruns of 24 on his ipod.

Ryan is so lost in Jack Bauer that Jake has to tap him on the shoulder to snap him out of it. “Hey,” he says quietly, and Ryan nearly tosses his iPod aside getting up out of his chair. He hugs Jake, because people who make out in airports are disgusting.

It feels like it’s the first time they’ve touched in public, which isn’t true. But maybe it’s just lost the note of tempting fate—Florida isn’t small, but with The Beat Down and the internet, their faces have their own small sort of fame.

Jake’s lost the cinnamon edge of his tan, but he wears the same relaxed-fit jeans and ratty t-shirt he always sported back home. Jake tells him about Cathedral Parkway and nights spent in Brooklyn. As an endless parade of black roller-boards go by at claim 17, he leans over and kisses Ryan. And maybe Ryan can forgive disgusting couples, because it’s been too long since he felt Jake’s lips on his, his breath on his skin. Here, sucking Jake’s gum into his mouth by accident, it hits him over the head. They have a relationship that means enough to get by on affection in airports and dirty IMs late at night when his roommates don’t desperately try to look over his shoulder.

“You hungry?” Ryan asks, brushing a hand over his scalp. Jake is blushing like he couldn’t believe his own audacity.

“Yeah, I could eat,” he says and spots his bag on the conveyor belt and tugs it off with one smooth move.

Ryan smiles. “You have to try the Chinese food out here—the west coast has ruined me for life.”


They have sleepy slow sex in the shower, skin worn slippery by the astringent soap Ryan uses until they slide together easily. Water and the bitter taste of shampoo flavor their kisses, and they have to be careful not to touch the scummy walls. Ryan’s still coming in minutes. It’d been the longest time he’d gone without another’s touch since he was sixteen.

Jake smiles at him, eyelashes spiky and cheeks flushed. He looks like he’s deciding whether or not to say something, but Ryan takes the decision away from him by wrapping a callused palm around his dick.

Jake’s palm comes down with a wet smack against the once-white shower-tile, and Ryan laughs before leaning into to scrape his teeth down Jake’s throat. Jake isn’t complicated, he’ll take whatever Ryan gives him, and that’s what makes it all the more important that Ryan knows exactly what’ll hit him in the gut, what’ll bring him down like a sock to the jaw.

Jake twists and moans against the pressure of Ryan’s grip. His breath comes in wet gasps. “I missed you,” he whispers as Ryan thumbs the head of his dick, and then he thrusts up real tight against Ryan’s hip, marking him with come.

Jake stands under the spray afterwards, water gliding warm over his face, his nose and mouth angled so that he can still breathe. Ryan wraps his arms around his waist, cheek pressed to the smooth place in between the blades of Jake’s shoulders until the water runs cold.


His roommates get back around 9:30 while Ryan is seizing the opportunity of Jake’s help on the paper he has due Tuesday.

“Jesus,” Jay says, giving Jake the once over, as he stands to shake hands. “You’re huge! I was expecting some waif-like fruit so that Ryan could feel all manly.”

Ryan bursts out laughing when Jake looks back over his shoulder at him. “Yeah? Let me tell you about how we met,” he says, shooting Ryan an evil look.

“Technically, in the sport’s storage room while Max was getting the shit kicked out of him,” Ryan points out.

“Romantic,” Todd cracks. “Was it love at first sight?”

“Well, for him.” Jake smirks. “I took some persuading.”

Ryan doesn’t dispute it. He turns back to his computer and saves the essay to the hard drive. Todd and Jay are joking with Jake like they’ve known him forever, and Ryan is glad, but it wouldn’t have mattered, because he honestly doesn’t care what they think about him. Jake was his choice, in every sense of the word. Perhaps the one real decision he’d ever made.


There’s a hammock outside Ryan’s dorm. After breakfast, when Ryan’s doing the reading that is absolutely necessary for class on Monday, Jake snakes his pillow and makes a running dash for the hammock with it. Jake’s being all sneaky, like Ryan wouldn’t have just agreed to lie in that hammock with him if he’d asked. He’s finding untapped wells of affection that not a single previous girlfriend benefitted from.

It’s a bit complicated trying to get two big guys, a pillow, and a text book on it, but with one near disaster, they manage. Jake falls asleep draped over Ryan. Funny how he always does that. He can smell Jake’s hair, and feel his eyelashes fluttering against Ryan’s throat. He’s supposed to be reading about troop formation in the Battle of Leipzig, but all he’s thinking about is the fact that his dick is so hard he could kill somebody with it.

Jake shifts against him. “You’re hard,” he says into Ryan’s neck.

Ryan shoots him a look. “Yeah, thanks.”

Jake laughs. “Well I could jack you off right here, or we could go inside.”

“Fuck off, I have to read.”

But Jake’s maneuvering his hand between their bodies, going straight for it, and before long Ryan has managed to dump them straight out of the hammock. “I hate you,” he tells Jake, chin on resting on his heaving sternum as he desperately tries to get his breath back from under all of Ryan’s weight.

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