Between the Push and Pull

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Yours,

HB

Copyright © 2017 by Hudson Bartholomew. All rights reserved. This story or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

***

Swish, swish.

Ryan had almost forgotten how good it felt to push off against the ice, the feeling of his blades biting into the slick surface, the chilly air blowing across his cheeks. He did a couple of laps around the ice rink at Rockefeller Center, crouching low and swinging his arms to build momentum.

He wasn't sure how Gary had managed to get a permit to film here, but sure enough, here they were, with Ryan doing his laps while Gary and Erik conferred with a camera guy by the boards.

Ryan pushed himself, feeling the slight burn in his thighs as his body embraced the sense of freedom that came with skating. He tried to put out of his mind the thoughts that had plagued him in the weeks since he had his revelation. He refused to believe that the relationship he had with Erik was anything more than professional, perhaps even friendly, but that's it.

He tried to forget the feeling of giddiness he felt whenever he got a text from Erik, and tried to convince himself that he would send friendly texts back and forth with any colleague when they were away for the holidays.

Ryan told himself to ignore all of that and just focus on today, being on the ice, hanging out with Erik. Ignore the camera and Gary shouting instructions at them. Just enjoy the freedom of skating.

"Ryan!" Erik called from across the rink and waved him over.

Ryan finished his lap and as he came around to the group, he executed a perfect hockey stop, sending a spray of ice right in Erik's direction.

"Show off," Erik glared at him, but Ryan could see the faint hint of a grin underneath.

"Enough, you two," Gary stood on the other side of the boards. "Alright, we'll start with some wide angle shots. You guys can chase each other around the ice, the camera will follow you from the other side of the rink. Don't drift too far apart though, you still need to be in the same frame. Then we'll move to closer shots, as if you've caught each other. Got it?"

"Yep, got it," Erik answered for the both of them.

With the signal from Gary, Ryan took off, skating backwards grinning at Erik, daring him to catch up. Ryan didn't have to wait long, Erik was pretty decent on skates, perhaps not as nimble as Ryan, but his natural fluidity and sense of balance clearly translated to the ice.

Ryan kept himself just out of Erik's reach, enjoying the blush that was developing on Erik's cheeks as he pushed himself to keep up. Erik's eyes narrowed and Ryan couldn't stop his grin from growing into a full-blown smile. He took pity and slowed just a smidgen, just enough to send Erik crashing into him.

Ryan grabbed hold of the other man and used their momentum to spin them around in circles until Erik let out an unmanly squeal. When he finally stopped, Erik was panting, clinging to Ryan, skates barely maintaining their purchase on the ice. Ryan's heart thumped at the feeling of Erik in his arms again.

"Oh my god, who knew? Slap a pair of skates on you and you become the devil!" Erik exclaimed.

Ryan chuckled and took off again with Erik's holding onto his waist in a little two-man conga line. Erik pulled him close and they glided across the ice, Ryan in Erik's arms, Erik's chin on Ryan's shoulder, shifting their weight subtlety to maneuver around the other skaters.

"So you had a good Thanksgiving?" Erik whispered into Ryan's ear. The shudder that ran through Ryan's body had nothing to do with the chilly winter air.

"Yeah," Ryan reluctantly extracted himself from Erik's arms and turned around to skate backwards, still holding onto Erik's hands. "You did too, right? Family's doing well?"

"Yeah," Erik's eyes lit up at the mention of his family. "They're good. My nieces and nephews are getting so big."

"They're cute." Erik had sent Ryan a selfie of himself buried under a pile of boys and girls. "You miss them?"

"Yeah, but my place is in New York. I can't live in Salt Lake, so..." Erik shrugged.

Ryan didn't like to see Erik so unsure himself. It tugged at something in Ryan's chest. He pulled Erik into his arms and planted a quick kiss on rosy, wind-chapped lips.

A quick spin and Ryan skated around Erik, ending up beside him, hand in hand. Erik just shook his head with a defeated grin.

"You going back again for Christmas?"

"Supposed to."

"But?"

Erik turned to look at him, "I don't think I've ever heard you ask this many questions in a row before. Did I miss something while I was away?"

Ryan grinned and shrugged.

"Right." Erik rolled his eyes with a smile, dropped Ryan's hand and took off on the ice.

Ryan let him get a head start before giving chase. It wouldn't have been difficult to catch up, but he let Erik take the lead. After half a lap, Ryan pushed a little harder and caught up, skating circles around Erik. Erik swatted at him, but didn't make a real effort to catch him as they looped the rink.

The next time they skated toward Gary, they were waved down.

"That's good, guys. Let's get the close up shots over here," Gary directed them to a corner of the rink. "We can get the Christmas tree in the background from this angle."

The camera guy hovering a few feet away raised Ryan's hackles. In the adrenaline of the skate, he had temporarily forgotten that they were in the middle of a shoot, and not just hanging out on the ice together. Now he couldn't un-see the floating box in his peripheral vision, and he had to force himself not to turn his back from its shiny black eye.

"Hey," Erik's mitted hand nudged at Ryan's chin.

What Ryan was feeling must have shown on his face, because Erik looked concerned, with a little wrinkle in the middle of his brow.

"You okay?"

Ryan pressed his lips into a thin line. He felt like their moment on the ice had been violated by the camera capturing every little smile, every little touch, and he itched to take the camera and smash it on the ice. But that wasn't something he could share out loud.

Erik's all-observing eyes narrowed as if he could read Ryan's thoughts and his dimple winked sympathetically. Then he leaned in, just a hairs breath away from Ryan's lips, and whispered, "It's okay."

Erik's lips felt cold and slightly chapped from the icy air. But it took only a second to heat up and soon Ryan felt warm and a little light headed from the simple press of lips against lips.

Erik released him, but didn't move away; instead he leaned his forehead against Ryan's, noses still touching. Their heated breaths mingled and fogged up the air around them.

Ryan blinked his eyes open, but Erik was too close; everything looked blurry. All Ryan could see was a crystal clear blue, pale almost white right around the iris and darkening to a rich royal on the outside. And as if that wasn't captivating enough, those lashes, the darkest black, framed and drew attention to the depths of blue.

There was something right at the tip of Ryan's tongue, something he felt he should communicate, but when he opened his mouth, he wasn't sure what exactly he was supposed to say. Complimenting Erik's eyes wasn't quite it, there was something else, but the more Ryan searched for the right words, the more they eluded him.

When Erik finally pulled back, Ryan ducked his head, angling away from the camera. He pushed back, giving himself a few feet of space, spun to face the other direction, and bent down to fiddle with the laces on his skates.

"Alright," Gary called out. "Guess that's good enough. You guys can get out of there. I want to get some shopping scenes along the gallery over there, just in case we need extra footage."

Ryan nodded and followed the instructions, but he felt a somberness settle over his mood. If he wasn't under a contract to finish the rest of the series, he probably would have left right then and there. Instead, he tied the laces of his skates together, popped the skate guards over the blades and swung the entire set over his shoulder.

He and Erik wandered around the gallery, looking into windows, and pointing at the Christmas decorations. They held hands, wrapped their arms around each other, and smiled at one another. But if the look in Erik's eyes meant anything, then Ryan's acting wasn't very convincing.

He breathed a sigh of relief when Gary called it a day. Ryan felt restless and angry and itched for his punching bag. He appreciated Erik's obvious concern, but he had no desire to field Erik's probing questions.

The minute Gary dismissed them, Ryan took off for the subway entrance.

"Hey, wait a minute," Erik rushed to catch up to him. "Are you okay? What happened? One minute everything's great, and the next, you look like you're about to kill someone."

"Yeah, everything's fine."

"I don't believe you. What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just... remembered that I forgot to put Caesar's food out this morning. I've gotta get back and feed him."

Erik sighed, sounding frustrated. Ryan didn't bother soothing over ruffled feathers, or even saying goodbye, but made a beeline for the subway. The sooner he got out of there, the better.

Ryan didn't go home immediately, but took the subway to Brooklyn Bridge. This was one of his favorite places in the city, the bridge that connected Manhattan to Brooklyn.

Getting off on the Manhattan side, Ryan strolled across the wooden boardwalk suspended above water and lanes of cars. The cold weather meant there weren't as many tourists around, just small handfuls clumped together trying to stay warm as they took selfies with the skyline behind them. The wind was strong here, an icy breeze that stung Ryan's cheeks and calmed the intensity of his emotions.

Ryan could no longer deny that he felt something for Erik. But the admission only made him more confused, because he didn't know why he felt something for Erik. Yes, Erik was an attractive man, both physically and in his personality, and under normal circumstances Ryan would never question his attraction. But their circumstances were far from normal and it was becoming increasing difficult to keep his emotions in order.

Ryan paused on the side of the bridge and turned to look back at the buildings soaring high into the sky. They were towers of progress and advancement; built by the drive to succeed at all costs, to push the boundaries of what was possible, and remake the world in whatever image they saw fit.

Ryan loved this city, loved it from the minute he landed at the airport and felt the buzzing excitement all around him. But he hadn't felt that kind of excitement in a long time, not since the early days of his studies at Columbia.

No, Ryan chided himself. That wasn't entirely true. He had felt that excitement recently; in fact just earlier in the day, on the ice, with Erik in his arms. Ryan took a step backwards, as if the physical movement could separate himself from his thoughts.

He had felt that excitment, but it had been short-lived, dashed by the reminder that they were putting on a show. Ryan stuck his hands into his pockets and continued across the bridge, his shoulders felt heavy from a sense of lonliness he hadn't experienced since he quit his PhD program.

At the end of the bridge, he turned one more time to look back at Manhattan. It looked like fortress, imposing and impenetrable. Ryan felt like he was on the outside, alone and unable to find a way in.

***

The higher the elevator rose, the greater the feeling of dread threatened to overwhelm Ryan and send him running down the stairs. A fancy hotel in Midtown was the last place he wanted to be, and the job he had in front of him was the last thing he wanted to do.

The elevator dinged much too soon for Ryan's liking and the door slid open to reveal Erik, leaning against the opposite wall, long muscular legs crossed in front of him, head bent over his phone.

The sound of the elevator arriving had Erik lifting his head, and the smile that broke out across his face both helped to sooth Ryan's unease while at the same time set him on edge.

"Hey," Erik's voice was low, rumbling and rolling over Ryan's skin. "I wasn't sure you'd make it. You didn't respond to any of my texts."

"Yeah," Ryan shrugged. "Sorry about that."

Erik nodded his acknowledgement, but didn't push away from the wall.

"What are you doing out here?" Ryan asked.

"Waiting for you."

"Oh," Ryan felt a little guilty for ignoring Erik's attempts to contact him all week.

"Sorry."

Erik breathed deep and sighed. "Come on, we're this way."

He led them down the corridor and around the corner to the door farthest away from the elevator. The door had been propped open, and when Erik ushered him in, Ryan had to suppress a slight gasp.

The place was impressive. A large suite on the top floor of a Manhattan highrise, tastefully decorated, elegant and classy. Floor to ceiling windows placed the city at their feet, iconic buildings rose in the distance, the sunshine bouncing off shiney glass towers. Ryan drifted over to the window and stared.

The city was so big—millions of people striving and fighting for survival in the toughest, no holds barred market in the world. You had to be the best of the best to make it in New York... so what the hell was Ryan doing here?

"Great view, huh?" Gary came up and clapped Ryan on the shoulder.

Ryan grunted in agreement.

"Too bad we can't stay to admire it. We've only got the suite for a limited time—this place ain't cheap!" Gary pulled Ryan away from the window. "We're gonna shoot in here."

On the far side of the suite was a set of french doors that opened to reveal a bedroom almost as large as the living room. The bed has been pushed out of its place and a scene had been set up in the corner where two glass walls met to give a panoramic view. A little loveseat sat off to the side, and a sheepskin rug lay on the floor.

It looked beautiful and romantic, and Ryan felt like vomitting.

"Buddy, you okay?" Gary asked, pulling Ryan around to get a look at him. "You don't look so hot. Maybe we should put some make up on you."

Ryan hated make up. "No, no, I'm good."

"You sure? You look a little green."

"I'm sure, I just need a little water."

"Yeah, over there," Gary pointed to a table that had been set up with all sorts of gear and supplies.

Ryan grabbed a bottle of water and drank half of it in one go. Next to the water was a big box of supplies that one would only find on the set of a porn shoot. Ryan pried the lid off and riffled around in the mix of packages and bottles. Condoms of various sizes, and lube of various consistencies and chemistry—necessities of the trade. But also packets of little blue Viagra pills, Caverject kits to help guys stay hard during the shoot, and finally, little plastic bottles with twist tops—poppers.

Ryan had tried all the drugs in the box at one point or another, although he tried to stay away as much as he could. Today, though, was not one of those days—he grabbed a bottle of poppers and stuck it into his pocket. Can't take it too early, the effect won't last long enough; but even just the knowledge that it was there seemed to help.

"Hey," Erik appeared at Ryan's shoulder, concern written all over his face.

"Hey," Ryan responded.

Erik hesitated before continuing. "You're costume is hanging in the bathroom. You should get changed."

Ryan nodded. Erik had already changed into another pair of baggy sweats, this time accompanied by an equally baggy hoodie.

Ryan didn't move away immediately. Instead, he closed his eyes and breathed deep that unique musky scent that was all Erik. The scent wound its way into Ryan's lungs and wrapped around his heart, much like the smoke that wound its way around Erik's body. Ryan tried to grasp onto that scent, to hold tightly to it, memorizing its contour and weight, letting it settle whatever unease he felt.

When he opened his eyes, Erik's face was a carefully schooled mask. Ryan couldn't tell what Erik was thinking, but he could tell that Erik was thinking hard about something.

Inside his pocket, his fingers wrapped around the plastic bottle and Ryan stepped away to change.

His outfit today was similar to all the others—professorial and nerdy, complete with the reading glasses. He took his place on the loveseat, the bottle of poppers gripped tightly in his hand. Once Gary called action, Ryan opened the bottle, brought it up to his nose, and plugging one nostril took a deep breath. He counted to ten before letting it out slowly.

The effect was immediate—his face felt flushed, his heart pounded, his brain felt a little too big, but most of all, he felt the sudden desire for Erik to fuck the shit out of him. Good thing that's what they were there to do.

Ryan handed the bottle off to an assistant offscreen and craned his neck around in search for Erik. He was standing behind the loveseat and crouched down to wrap his arms around Ryan's shoulders.

Ryan leaned his head back to rub his cheek against Erik's, his hand floated up to hold Erik in place. Erik had just shaved, his jaw silky smooth, and Ryan turned to carress the soft skin with his lips. He kissed his away along Erik's jaw, down the column of Erik's neck before venturing back to capture Erik's lips. Plump, pliant, delicious lips opened for Ryan's tongue to dip inside and feast.

Erik must have eaten a mint right before the shoot, the fresh sweetness tasted like ambrosia to Ryan. He needed more, he needed all of Erik in his arms, on top of him, skin against skin, filling him to overflowing.

A whimper escaped Ryan's throat, and his arms did their best to reach for Erik from their awkward position. Much to Ryan's relief, Erik seemed to get the message and vaulted over the back of the loveseat.

He landed on the cushions and promptly pulled Ryan underneath him, pressing down and covering Ryan with muscle and strength. Ryan writhed to get as much contact as he could, but there was too much clothing in the way. He began clawing at Erik's clothes, pulling up the hoodie to find nothing underneath but the smooth ridges of Erik's skin.

Erik reach around to grasp Ryan's hands and pulled them away. Fingers entwined, Erik held Ryan's hands above their heads. His position on his back and the itching need crawling through his veins robbed Ryan of the strength to resist. He was just grateful for Erik's mouth that never left his own, and the way Erik was grinding his crotch against Ryan's.

Ryan's legs wrapped around Erik's, holding him in place and angling their bodies to maximize the friction of their cocks rubbing together through their clothes. Finally, Erik let go of his hands, and Ryan took the opportunity to bury his fingers in Erik's thick, silky black hair; the other hand clutched at Erik's back, appreciating their wide expanse. Erik wrapped his arms around Ryan's waist, pressing their stomachs and chests together, squeezeing tightly until Ryan felt lightheaded from lack of air.

Then just as suddenly as his desire skyrocketed, it petered out. Ryan's heart settled and the itching in his veins subsided. Erik seemed to sense the change and slowed his own attack. The deep tongue wrestling kisses faded to sweeter, lingering ones. The urgent dry humping faded into a pleasant weight that Ryan clung to to help center him in the riot of his emotions.

"Hey," Erik whispered, face hovering an inch away. He removed Ryan's hand from his hair, and placed gentle kisses on Ryan's palms before laying them flat against his cheek and nuzzled. Erik brushed Ryan's hair off his forehead, and toyed with the highlighted locks. "I thought you asked me over to talk," he said with a smile.