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11 November 2009 @ 09:45 am
And So It Began.... Part Twelve (Kyle/Oliver, R)  
Fandom: One Life to Live
Rating: R
Pairing: Kyle/Oliver, college years
Summary: Oliver Fish met Kyle Lewis in college. It changed his life forever.
A/N: Thank you so much. Here, I'm amping up their sexual relationship -- not too much, but, well, you'll see -- before they move into the frat house. Which explains this chapter. The smut-gates have been opened, apparently. I do hope you enjoy.
Rated R for explicit sexual situations (more explicit than the previous chapter), swearing, and Kyle's naughty mouth.

Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight
Part Nine
Part Ten
Part Eleven




Part Twelve:
Live Bed Show
Pulp


It was the last week of summer classes. The mood of the student body was conflicted; everyone seemed to be in a state of subdued chaos, hunched over books and papers, sneaking in coffee, pastries, and fruit to the library and lectures, whispering to themselves with highlighters and pens sticking out of their mouths and from behind their ears. Voices were low, chatting and giggling. The sharp clicks of rapid typing over laptop keyboards punctuated the frazzled quiet.


Kyle and Oliver staked out a table in LU's library. Kyle sat on one side, chewing on his pen cap, moving his lips silently as he went through his notes. He was surrounded by his Comparative Anatomy and Psychology II textbooks. Oliver was typing away on his keyboard on his Computer Programming Level II final project. Every once in a while he was interrupted by a small kick to his shins from Kyle--


"Dude, relax."


"I'm trying to type."


Kyle smirked. "Hasn't that keyboard suffered enough?" Oliver stared at his friend.


"What're you talking about?"


"You're stabbing away at it like it just killed your dog. We're in a library, Fish. Type quieter."


"For your information, 'quieter' isn't even a word, Kyle."


It was a slip, a tiny one, but Kyle heard Oliver use his first name, which was something that Oliver never did. Not out in public, not with other people around. In public, they were "Fish" and "Lewis", fraternity brothers, study buddies who poked and prodded and teased each other with typical boy-man bravado. The others in their house joked about their apparent "bromance" with each other, and as far as they knew, that's all it was. A friendship forged from the brotherhood of fraternity.


However, when the sun went down and there was no one else, they were simply Kyle and Oliver. That studio apartment, 105-B on Maple Drive, was not only Kyle's but Oliver's place as well. He slept next to Kyle, often times drunk, fewer times sober. Their poking and prodding and teasing took on a far different meaning when they were together and alone. Free from school, the world and parents who would never approve.


Upon hearing his first name come out of Oliver's mouth, Kyle paused. He regarded Oliver with an expression that could only be described as slightly bewildered but happy. Oliver watched him, his own gaze not wavering. He remained calm even though he nearly betrayed that boundary he had imposed on himself. Kyle knew, without ever being told, what that boundary meant, and he didn't cross that line himself, not after what happened in his dorm room so many months ago.


It was Kyle who broke the silence with a crooked grin. "Their ain't no laws against makin' up words. So, what're you gonna do about it, Future Officer Fish? Arrest me?"


Oliver smiled, as he did any time Kyle teased him about becoming a cop. Feeling the tension ease, Oliver returned to studying, holding his book up to hide his face. But his smile widened whenever he felt Kyle's foot gently graze his shin.


****




There were only a few days left before Kyle had to move out of 105-B. Cardboard boxes were stacked high in the apartment labeled with either Oliver Fish's slanted, precise handwriting or Kyle's physician-ready chicken scrawl. The studio was halfway packed up, some of the furniture and things were going into storage before the start of next semester. Not that either boy noticed the boxes, or the overall chaos.


Both were stripped to their boxers, both sweaty from exertion. They kissed each other, their mouths wide, pressing into the other's, desperate and consuming. Their hands were hard at work, playing with and stroking each other. Oliver had taken a couple of shots of whiskey, followed by some lager left over in Kyle's fridge. Kyle had been reluctant at first, because Oliver and he had been drinking.


Any objections had been stifled as soon as Oliver's lips touched his.


By the time the backs of Kyle's knees hit the edge of the mattress, shirts were already off and on the floor, as were their pants. Oliver crawled forward, still kissing Kyle, his body on top of his. He wasn't sloppy drunk, but Oliver had consumed enough alcohol to leave behind his parents, his guilt, and to awaken something inside of him.


Desire. Want. And... something else.


"Oh... God. Fuck! P-please, don't stop."


Wrapping his left arm around his slender body, hearing Kyle's voice, grainy and hoarse from arousal, Oliver lost himself completely in the experience. His head fell into the crook of Kyle's neck and shoulder kissing... licking... sucking. He could hear Kyle's moans, the deep inhalations of his breath. He thrust his hips in the air, moving in tandem with Oliver's hand, which was working underneath Kyle's boxers. Up and down... up and down. Kyle unraveled underneath him.


Oliver wasn't used to being the one in charge but he was at this moment. Drunk or not, damn if he wasn't enjoying in his new-found authority. Moreso than that, what Oliver liked most was Kyle, watching him as he touched him. Kyle was speechless after a few strokes, which was a strange experience. It was both strange and amazing that he was here, doing this to Kyle Lewis -- who could hardly go five minutes without some sarcastic comment or derisive gesture, who knew who he was and what he wanted. He could make Kyle writhe under his ministrations. He, Oliver Fish, was the one person, the one guy in all of Llanview, who could get to Lewis like that.


Oliver would've never allowed himself to let go like this... but that damn alcohol! And the more he was with Kyle, the more he wanted to push things. The ballsier he got.


Speaking of ballsy... Oliver wanted to laugh; Kyle was rubbing off on him.


He felt nails digging into his arms. Oliver held Kyle tighter to his body, stroking him, the tempo steady but increasing. As Kyle arched into his hand, Oliver sped up, his fist tightening just a little bit more. He knew Kyle was close; he could feel him pulsing... any minute now...


He shifted his position without removing his busy hand, and Oliver used his free palm to cup Kyle, massaging him in tandem--


"Oh shit-Ohshit-OHSHIT... OLIVER!!" Kyle almost shot up off the bed, panting, sweating, whimpering. He froze in mid-gape. His mouth and eyes were all wide open, all unmoving.


Oliver's hand remained on his crotch; he smiled at his achievement, but he wondered how he was going to clean up. He slowly retracted himself as Kyle fell back in his bed.


"Damn... damn-damn-damn." Struggling to regain his composure, Kyle sat up, groggy and panting. "Thanks."


Oliver found a towel and wiped off his fingers. Smiling shakily, feeling slightly nervous and pretty drunk, he handed it over. "Need this?" he asked, his words slurring. Kyle took it to attend to himself.


"You were really, really... that was pretty outstanding."


Grinning, Oliver sat back, letting his head lazily fall to his sides. "Was fun. Doin' that to you. And, um... watchin' you."


Kyle threw the towel to the side and straddled Oliver's lap. Oliver brought his hands up to Kyle's sides, flexing them, still feeling Kyle all over his palms. Through half-lidded eyes, Oliver forced his head to steady and looked straight at his friend. Kyle had that expression on his face, one that meant he was up to something.


"It's your turn, Future Officer Fish."


"My turn?" He laughed a little; of course, Kyle would pick right now to be so inscrutable.


His eyes, still hazy from the liquor and the romp, widened as Kyle's hand disappeared around him. Kyle found his boxers; he slipped his hand beneath them, touching him slowly, agonizingly.


Oliver's eyes fluttered shut. "Wh-what're you do--"


He felt Kyle's lips against his, moving down his chin, his neck. "Where's the fun in telling you that?" He continued stroking Oliver.


"Wh-wha- Mmm... feels good," Oliver muttered.


"What I'm gonna do to you? That's a surprise," Kyle whispered, laughing as he spoke. "But you're gonna like it. A lot." Oliver opened his eyes and watched as Kyle moved down his chest, trailing kisses--


And Kyle started sliding off Oliver's boxers. He jolted up, scared... and aroused. He was about to be totally naked with Kyle. Although he perked up at the thought, this was something he hadn't prepared for. This was beyond everything else that they had done. If clothes were still on, even if he just wore underwear, he could somehow convince himself that these were just random hookups, making out here and there, with a little exploring thrown into the mix. That was how he convinced himself things were cool between them.


But full-on naked? With Kyle? That was intimate, special. It was also a place he wasn't ready to go.


Although Kyle's head, presently hovering over his naval and slowly moving toward his crotch, made him forget all of his inhibitions.


"You cool with this?"


"I-I've just... we haven't really done stuff totally, uh, naked."


"Well, I can't exactly suck you off if you have your boxers on."


Hearing that, Oliver practically burst. He clutched at Kyle's shoulder, as the only thing that filled his brain, pushing everything else out, was the vision of Kyle's head, instead of his hand, bobbing up and down--


A whimper escaped him.


"So, what do you say? Can I, Oliver?" Kyle's hands were on his boxers, ready to strip him completely bare.


A split second thought flashed inside his head. In that moment, his want, his need to keep this going, to know what Kyle was about to do to him, and how that would feel, trampled over any sense of propriety he might have had left.


"P-pull 'em down to my knees. Leave 'em on, though."


That was all Kyle needed to hear. He tugged Oliver's underwear down. One more glance back up, and there was no mistaking it; Oliver caught Kyle's cheeky smile. He winked and he lowered his head. He kissed further down and finally took Oliver completely inside his mouth.


It was better than he could have ever imagined.


****




It was the morning after. He woke up, groggy, slightly nauseous, and unfocused from the previous night. Kyle was next to him, lying on his stomach, snoring loudly. Slowly climbing out of bed so as not to disturb him, Oliver dressed himself, wondering whether to stay or split; he was no stranger to either option, and if he did choose to leave, he was certain Kyle would understand. After all, he had understood the other times Oliver left before he got up.


He was looking for his other shoe when he saw a manila envelope lying on the patch of linoleum in front of the door. It must have fallen through the mail slot this morning -- the envelope was big, and fairly bulky. On closer inspection, he saw no stamps or address on it; instead, there was only "KYLE LEWIS" written across the front, along with the apartment number. And it was sealed, taped around its edges. Oliver was turning it back and forth in his hands, when he felt a hand slap his shoulder.


"That for me? Buddy?"


There was no mistaking the edge to Kyle's voice. Oliver turned to see his friend, clad in his boxers leaning forward. With his other hand, he swiped the envelope from Oliver and tossed it onto the coffee table. He sniffed a shirt from the floor, shrugged, and pulled it on.


"So, you want to tell me what's in that envelope?" Oliver managed to keep himself sounding normal.


Kyle walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. "Why should I tell you?" He popped a couple of aspirin into his mouth and chased it with a big gulp of orange juice. "Far be it from me to keep you from leaving, which you were clearly were. In a hurry too." His tone dripped with irritation, bordering on anger.


Oliver exhaled sharply, feeling a headache coming on as well as feeling slightly annoyed at Kyle's capricious attitude. Why the hell he was choosing to be pissed off if Oliver left early today -- when he had been okay when Oliver left in the past -- was beyond him.


"I didn't want to wake you."


His eyes narrowing into slits, Kyle tossed food on the counter. "I'm making breakfast. You can stay or you can go. But if you stay, I want you to want to stay. Don't stay because you feel guilty that I caught you leaving."


Oliver shut his eyes. "I want to stay..." Unfortunately, his voice sounded weak.


He heard a sigh. "Last night wasn't good for you, then?"


Oliver's eyes flew open and he walked briskly into the kitchen. "Last night was... it was good. Great. But it was also... c-can I have an aspirin too?" He rubbed his forehead as Kyle handed him two, which he promptly popped into his mouth, followed by a swig of juice. Gathering his thoughts, Oliver watched Kyle's face, which registered a mix of emotions.


"What're we doing? Why am I over here, at night, and not out with some girl?"


Kyle sneered and turned on his stove. The crackle of grease and the smell of bacon filled the apartment; despite his headache, Oliver felt his stomach grumble.


"Because, Oliver Fish, you like doing things with me. You like dudes." Kyle wasn't looking at him. Instead, he flipped bacon over in the pan. "And I happen to be a dude, so... Ta da!" Kyle flung his hands out, still holding the bacon-greased spatula in his right hand. "Does that answer your question? Or do you need a Power Point--"


"Kyle, come on."


"Or charts? Or maybe pictures, huh? Something more visual."


"Kyle--"


"I do some mean stick figures."


"Kyle." Oliver replied sternly. He grasped Kyle's wrist, applying just enough pressure to get him to stop ranting. Kyle shook his head and jerked his arm away.


"I'm that disgusting to you? What we're doing's so disgusting, you're wondering why you can't be attracted to girls?" He picked up the last couple pieces of bacon and put them on a paper towel to drain. "Well, that just makes me feel all swell and stuff."


"Kyle."


He looked at Oliver, his nostrils flaring slightly. Taking an egg in his hand, he cracked it on the edge of the pan and stared at him. "How do you like your eggs?"


The question made Oliver pause. Blinking, he stammered, "Uh... sunny side up, I guess."


With one hand, Kyle opened the shell, and a perfectly formed egg yolk started sizzling in the pan. Then he pursed his lips together, took the greasy spatula, and crushed the egg yolk, scrambling it thoroughly, his expression saying he could give a fuck what Oliver liked.


"So, scrambled then?"


Oliver plopped back down in the chair, his hands rubbing his face and scratching his head. He didn't want to start a fight, but a fight was something he couldn't avoid. "I told you about my parents, didn't I? Their church, the town I grew up in?"


He saw the muscles in Kyle's jaw shift, flexing as Oliver spoke. But he didn't reply.


"Look, I... can't be... l-like you." He looked away. "I've told you before. I just can't be--"


"Except when you're drunk," Kyle shot back. "Except when you want to kiss me. Except when I do things to you." He threw the last pieces of bacon onto the plates. Two forks clanked down.


"If my parents found out what I've been doing, they'd be gone. Out of my life. Just like that!" Oliver snapped his fingers. "And I love them. They watched me grow up, they've been there for me every step of the way. I can't lose them... I-I don't know what's going on with me, but if I lost them, I wouldn't have anything!" He didn't mean to let Kyle witness this outburst, but he was hung over. And the way Kyle needled him compounded his guilt, making him feel far worse. Although he now felt equal parts guilt toward his parents and Kyle.


When he looked back up, Kyle was hovering in front of him, two plates in front of him. His face was stiff, his lips pressed tightly together, stifling what he wanted to say. Oliver let his hand drag down his face. At the same time, he noticed Kyle's face soften.


Sighing, shaking his head, Kyle placed a plate in front of Oliver; the eggs were a perfect sunny side up. He sat down in other empty chair, the scrambled eggs from earlier on his own plate.


"Thanks," Oliver muttered.


"Don't mention it... Fish."


****
 
 
feeling a little . . . : creativecreative
grooving on . . . : rachel maddow show, 11-09-2009
 
 
 
jyl22075@gmail.com: kish wedding kissjyl22075 on November 11th, 2009 06:53 pm (UTC)
Oh, the angst! This chapter was just perfect. I love how personal you've made the use of their first names. Just... love it!
Suzanne: Kyle and Fish during press conferencesuzanne78 on November 13th, 2009 12:51 am (UTC)
Love angsty Kish. But I've gotta get a little KyleSnark! in there too. So glad you're liking this, o' supplier of all my Kish avi needs :-D

Thanks!