Maryann (mrsbanks99) wrote in ducks_fiction,

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Title:Just one night
Author: mrsbanks99
Rating: Pg13
Pairing: Scooter/Riley, slash
Character(s): Scooter and Riley
Short summary: Two varsity players have just one night. Riley/Scooter slash. Reader beware.

I don't own Riley and Scooter, saddly. And if I did, I'd pimp Rick out to Brandy and Melissa. Scooter I wouldn't share. Thanks to Brandy for the beta.

He sleeps. I haven’t seen him sleep in days. He’s just been so mad lately. So full of anger since she walked out on him, furious at the way she ended things. Sitting up all night, his strong jaw clenched tightly, his velvet lips drawn in a frown. Just wallowing in his own misery. And that hurts me. It pains me to see him so upset. But mostly it kills me to know he’s so broken because of her.

I love to watch him sleep; I’ve been doing it for years. I know that makes me sound weird, but honestly I don’t care. So many nights I’ve sat here on the edge of my bed, watching his eyelids twitch as he’s lost in peaceful dreams. I’ve tried to picture what he was seeing; sometimes fooling myself into thinking it was me. His mouth would form a smile in his sleep and I wonder what would happen if I lost my senses, crossed the room, and tasted his lips.

Then instantly I would remember her, the reason he smiled. More than likely the reason he was even happy in his sleep. And the bubble would burst, the fantasy would disappear and I’d lay down staring at the ceiling, until heartbroken I drifted off. In my sleep, I was always dreaming of just one night with him.

But now she isn’t an obstacle. Once again he sleeps. The moon’s bathing his face in a subtle silvery light, and his skin looks almost a pale blue. God he’s beautiful, so beautiful. How could she let him go? What was she thinking, allowing someone so perfect to slip through her fingers? If I had his love, I’d never screw it up.

I can’t take it anymore. Those lips, they’re teasing me. Slightly parted, allowing soft wisps of breath to pass through as his chest rises and falls. I have to kiss him. I can’t fight it anymore. I need to, just once in my life, to feel his lips. Soft, moist, tender pressed to mine. I may never get the nerve again; I have to do it now.

I put my feet on the floor and before I can even think, I’m knelt beside his bed. I cast a glance over my shoulder at where I was lying, sheets hanging off the side, pillow tossed around. I suddenly want to turn tail and escape back to my bed. And then, his arm falls off the side of the bed, and his hand brushes my side. Electricity courses through my veins. Without thinking, I’ve leaned in and gently pressed my lips to his.

A long, deep moan escapes the confines of his throat as he opens his mouth to me. Even though I know I shouldn’t, I let my tongue slip past his teeth. The moan grows louder as I explore every nook and cranny of his mouth with my tongue, probing every inch. His hand raises to the side of my face and I forget all in his touch.

All of a sudden the room is quiet and the moaning has ceased. The warmth of his hand on my cheek is gone, and I’m suddenly cold. I lift me head slowly, knowing this isn’t good. His eyes are open and he’s staring at me with wide eyes. I feel the air leave my body, as if it was being squeezed out of me like an accordion. I feel like a deflated balloon.

His voice is husky with sleep, and he says only my name. “Scott?”

I nod, licking my lips nervously. He’s going to hate me, tell the whole team what I did, the whole school even. I’ll lose everything, my friends, my reputation… him. I can’t bare that. “I…I…” I stutter, wracking my brain for the right words. I’ll never be able to get out of this.


Again he says my name and I shiver. When we’re alone he never calls me Scott. For years I’ve been Scotty, in the privacy of our room. Only in our room, because he knows I hate being called that. That’s why everyone else calls me Scooter. But him, he can call me anything.

“I’m sorry.” I manage, looking away quickly, blinking to hold in the tears building up in my eyes.

My whole body goes warm again as I feel the back of his fingers gently touching my cheek. “Scotty?” He says and my heart thumps. I turn back to look at him, only to have his warm mouth pressed to mine once more. Now it’s my turn to be surprised.

On instinct I rise from the floor and slide onto the bed beside him. His arm wraps around me as we kiss. I dare not to move for fear this is a dream and if I stir, I may wake from this and realize I’m alone. So I’m still, returning the kisses with tender love. Until I feel hands roaming my body, touching me everywhere. I can’t fight it, years of passion are bubbling up inside me, and soon I’m meeting his kisses with fervor. Pressing myself to him, my skin tingling with every touch. I feel like I’m on fire, my flesh is burning, my mind is racing. I’ve lost myself in him.

When I finally regain control of myself and my body and brain are reunited, things have escalated to the point of no return. I have no regrets, as I lay there, my clothes tossed forgotten to the floor in a heap at the foot of the bed. His bare skin caresses mine, as he runs his fingertips up my arm, breathing deeply. A gentle kiss is pressed to my cheek and his arms tighten around me.

“Good night, Scotty.” He says with a yawn, before drifting off.

I smile and roll over, kissing his shoulder and marveling as his perfectly chiseled, meticulously sculpted naked frame. “I love you, Rick.” I whisper, knowing I’ll never hear those words back. It would forever be just that one night. But that’s all I ever wanted.

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