He'd been tossing and turning for hours, sleep completely eluding him, making his attempts futile at best. Growling from frustration and his own perceived stupidity, Kennedy kicked the covers off of his legs and got up.
Knowing that he wouldn't get any sleep tonight, he made a strong pot of the strongest coffee he knew of. Death Wish Coffee. It came with a warning label, for crying out loud. He chuckled at the thought.
He tried not to think of his cell phone lying on his bedside table. Or, more specifically, the several unanswered messages that sat mocking him.
It had been nearly a week since he attended the baseball game with Fox. Nearly a week since they shared their bodies with each other once again. Tasting. Exploring. Coming alive. Coming. Nearly a week since Fox had said something that scared him beyond all pale. And he panicked. Then he ran. He pulled back from Fox and everything he was offering; everything he could potentially offer.
He'd seen the look on Fox's face when he told him that he needed to be alone for a while. He'd seen the fear and the pain of his rejection, along with utter confusion.
Fox had given him three days without texting or calling him before he no longer cared about giving him space. He didn't blow up his phone, either. Fox found a soft middle. He texted a few times a day, breaking Kennedy's heart all the more with each one that came through.
But he knew, even as he slipped his coffee, that they could never work. Eventually, Fox would tire of carrying both of their baggages. He felt his heart constrict and his eyes well up. "Godfuckingdamn it." In a sudden flash of anger he slammed his fist down along the counter, making everything along it's immediate surface to jangle. "Fuck this. I need something stronger than this." He left the coffee where it was and went to get a bottle of whiskey he kept away for the rare chance he drank.
Opening the cap, he took several, long, hard swallows, almost tipping the bottle up completely before bringing it back down again. It tasted bitter in his mouth and his expression reflected that distaste as he wiped his mouth.
Fox knew by now, fifteen minutes into the meeting, that he wasn't going to show. He could feel it. He didn't understand this rejection he felt. He didn't understand why Kennedy would suddenly ghost him like he never existed, just when they were starting to get closer.
Maybe that's the problem, Fox thought bitterly, he doesn't want to get closer to you. At their customary break half-way through, Fox couldn't take it anymore. It was the one night a month where he took himself to the Grief Center, his mother having prior engagements. He didn't mind her taking him. He thought it was her way of trying to help her son, whom she loved and worried over. And he couldn't fault her for that.
He made the drive to Kennedy's in record time. He sat in the car for a while trying to ascertain what he was going to say and how. He thought about the last night he spent with him. The night of Morgan's baseball game and the morning after.
They'd ordered and eaten pizza, enjoying a movie as they ate. Aside from Kennedy's weird mood swing in the car, things had seemed better. At least Fox had thought so.
They'd laughed and cut up during the movie, cuddling up on the couch together.
***
At some point during the movie, Kennedy had moved to where he was resting his head against Fox's chest, his hand above his navel. As his hand lightly massaged downward, Fox quickly lost interest in whatever they were watching.
When Fox was hard under his hand, Kennedy sat up, turned off the television, and gave Fox a look of utter sultriness and lust. As he crawled up Fox's body with an almost predatory gaze, said, "I want to be inside you." And kisses him as if he were claiming him.
Fox moaned his consent as their mouths met once more. Kennedy took his time as he slowly and agonizingly stripped Fox, kissing his way down as each inch of skin became exposed.
Gripping the shaft at the base, he squeezed gently, sliding his mouth over the leaking head. "Fuck!" Fox lifted his hips, slowly fucking into Kennedy's mouth as he sank further down. Fox threw his head back, one hand gripping the arm rest of the couch behind him, while the other found its way to Kennedy's hair.
Kennedy let go of Fox's hard shaft with a *pop* and Fox moaned at the loss of contact. Kennedy crawled up Fox's body and enveloping his full and bite-swollen lips. "Bed. Now."
Fox grinned. "I like it when you're bossy."
They wasted no time getting to the bedroom, their lips already connected as the fell onto the bed. Kennedy gasped as Fox grabbed both of them in one hand before sliding his hand down and began rocking his hips, creating electrifying sensations to spread through them both.
Kennedy grabbed a condom and lube from the bedside table drawer and wasted no time rolling down over himself.
Fox groaned at the slight chill of the lube and moaned as Kennedy worked his fingers inside him, spreading him open, preparing him.
"Fuck, Kennedy." Fox sat up slightly reaching. Pulling Kennedy down against him bit his lip and growled, "Fucking Christ, I need you inside me."
***
As Fox thought about that night he remembered something that made his soul clench. He frowned. *Could that be the reason for this?"
He exited the car and began tentatively approaching Kennedy's door. Fox's gut clinched as he knocked, not knowing what exactly was going to be waiting on the other side.
When Kennedy opened the door, Fox could see he wasn't entirely sober. "Can I come in?"
When he didn't move to let him in and didn't say anything, he thought for certain he'd be sent away. But then Kennedy did move, keeping his eyes averted.
"What are you doing here, Fox?" Kennedy asked quietly.
Fox looked at him for a moment as if contemplating whether or not to say something or just leave and save himself the heartache he knew to be coming. "You...you've been avoiding me all week. You weren't at the center. I want to know why." Suddenly his bravado spilled from him as he felt his emotions taking over. He felt every fear and every insecurity pushing down on him like gravity as he waited for an answer.
Kennedy studied him standing there with his arms wrapped tightly around himself. As if his arms could shield him from the bullets Kennedy's words would become. "I've just...needed to think." He sighed at his own vagueness. His eyes pleaded with Fox to understand, but he knew there was no way getting around what needed to be said.
"About what?" Angry now, Fox felt his old self returning. The persona that he allied with to keep himself safe. When Kennedy didn't answer, Fox took a step forward. "Goddamn it, if you're going to break my heart then have the balls to fucking say the words."
Kennedy looked at him then, shocked at his tone. He didn't yell, or raise his voice in the slightest, but there was an icy chill to his wavering demand. Kennedy noticed Fox's fists were clinched, but it seemed more to keep himself in control than an act of aggression.
"What is it you're expecting me to say, Fox?" He was stalling and he knew it.
"I want you to tell me the truth." Fox looked at him then and Kennedy saw the bitter knowledge in his eyes. His voice had softened, but the edge in his words was far from gone. "I want to know why you'd tell me you love me only to completely fucking avoid me for the next week. And if you want to end it, fucking end it, but you better have the stones to fucking say it to my face, Kennedy."
He shook his head slightly, the anger suddenly burning out as quickly as it erupted. "Just tell me the truth."
Kennedy wrapped his arms around himself, mirroring Fox's pose. "I don't want to hurt you, Fox."
Fox laughed bitterly. "Too little, too fucking late. What did you think would happen? What did you think I would think?" He shrugged helplessly. "Was it all just bullshit, Kennedy? The intimacy. You telling me...what you did. Was it all bullshit?"
Kennedy felt the sting of those words slashing at him. Each word another knife gutting him completely. A tear fell as Kennedy looked away shaking his head. "No. No, it wasn't bullshit. I never lied to you, Fox."
"Then tell me why you won't talk to me!" The demand came out loud, yet hoarse, emotion cracking his words like an axe to wood, splinters flying like shrapnel.
Kennedy scrubbed his hands over his face and yelled back just as loudly, just as brokenly, "Because I don't fucking deserve you! You want the truth, Fox. Fine, here it is." He took two steps closer, his anger and self-hatred stepping through his pores into the very air around him. Fox took a step backward at Kennedy's sudden movement, his eyes going wide, suddenly startled at his aggression.
"I'm nothing. You get that? I'm something to be tossed away. That's how it's always been. That's how it'll always be." He took a breath, long and slow and steady to help calm his racing heart. Tears fell quicker now from his eyes, red and swollen and devistated. "No one has ever wanted me. Not since...my parents didn't want me anymore. No one has wanted me since. No one has loved me since I was a little boy. I wasn't worthy enough to get adopted. I was passed around and given up and walked away from time and time and time again."
Fox walked up to him, chest to chest with him, looking him deeply within his eyes. "What makes you think I'll do the same thing?" He wiped the tears from Kennedy's face. He caught the smaller hand and held it against his cheek. He wouldn't look at Fox, his eyes closed against the intensity in his stare.
"What makes me think anything will be different?" He looked at him then, releasing his hand and stepping back, away from Fox's touch. "You better go, Fox."
Fox shook his head in denial. "Don't do this, Kennedy. Please." He stepped forward again, his expression as begging as his 'please'.
"Fox..."
"Kennedy, no. You asked me what makes you think that I would be different...I do love you, Kennedy. It wasn't bullshit for me, either."
"I know." Gently then he kissed him. Fox knew it for what it was. It was goodbye.
"Then why can't we be together?" When Kennedy provided no response he continued, "I feel like home in your arms, Kennedy. For the first time since River died, I feel alive. Doesn't that count for anything?"
Kennedy then spoke those words that would be the final blow. "No. Go home, Fox."
Fox looked at defeated as Kennedy felt as he turned for the front door and left. When the door was firmly closed, Kennedy sank unceremoniously to the floor. And wept.
Fox drove in a daze, his eyes watering, his vision blurry.