Parker has them tailing a young man the FBI suspects may be not only be a follower of Joe's, but might also have militia connections. The last thing they need is for the cult of crazy to have access to even more weapons than they already do.
It's late at night and they're sitting in the rental car watching people filter in and out of a local bar from the darkness. Weston is sitting in the passenger seat and Ryan keeps glancing at him when he thinks the younger agent isn't looking. Unknown to Ryan, Mike is practically on overdrive and is noticing everything. He figures Ryan is worried that he'll go into super paranoia mode after his incident with Joe's followers beating the ever living shit out of him, but he's recovered now…well, physically, mostly. Some bruises still shine brightly on his ribs, but they don't hurt as much as the mental breaks he experiences.
But the fact that Ryan keeps looking over at him is making Mike extra twitchy. He turns his head quickly, catching Ryan in the act of glancing at him.
"Do we even know what we're looking for? This guy could be anyone. And anyone could be a follower," Mike says, irritation coloring his words.
Ryan's making as much as an effort as he is capable of doing. The guilt he feels toward Weston nearly getting beat to death still haunts him. But Weston, Mike, he reminds himself to call the kid Mike, is kind and fearless and puts the blame on the cult members instead. The kid is still twitchy though and Ryan wonders if it's from a need to beat up Joe's followers or from fear that they're lurking about waiting to take him hostage again.
"Parker's anonymous tip said he's tall, army looking type, tattoos on his arms," Ryan answers, glancing away from Weston.
He hears Weston make a 'humph' noise in reply. Ryan turns back toward him.
"West— Mike, I mean. I—" Whatever it is Ryan is Mike was not finding out, since Ryan's words were interrupted by his cellphone. The ringing seems abnormally loud in the silent car.
"Hardy," Ryan answers, and Mike turns back to watching the bar. All he can think is that anyone of these people could be a follower and the thought makes his blood run cold. He retreats into his mind so far that he jumps when Ryan gently taps him on the shoulder. He turns around wildly until his eyes meet Ryan's.
"You okay?" Ryan says, and Mike nods slowly. He hadn't even heard Ryan get off the phone.
"What did Parker say?"
Ryan gives him another concerned look and then says, "They think the lead has changed locations and this was a fake-out. Looks like we're done for the night, but she wants us to stay in the area a little while longer. There's a hotel not far from here. Parker said she booked us two rooms and put some files on possible cult members in the area in the room's safe."
"More cult members?"
"Looks like," Ryan says and then starts the car. The drive from the bar to the nearest hotel is silent. Mike's gone back into his thoughts and Ryan still keeps stealing glances at him. Each glance makes Mike's heart jump a bit for different reasons than his fear of Joe's cult members does. He tries to ignore the small pangs of want that shake him, but here he is, sitting in a car driving to a hotel with his this man he has more than hero-worship for.
When they arrive at the hotel there are about five other people checking in. Mike looks at every single one of them like they're going to kill him and Ryan is worried all over again, feeling the guilt of leaving the kid alone and nearly sending him to his death. He doesn't want to experience that again, so he tells the hotel manager they'll just be using one of the reserved rooms and he notices Mike lets out a breath of relief.
But then he looks at Ryan questioningly and the older agent just shrugs and mutters something about not spending all the FBI's funds at once. The comment makes Mike smile and that in return makes Ryan's heart flutter a bit.
On the elevator ride up to the third floor Mike stands shoulder to shoulder with Ryan when other people enter the elevator. The young agent had been doing well since his attack, but the PTSD symptoms were evident by Mike's shaking and wide-eyed glances at everyone. Ryan worried he would have a panic attack in the elevator, but then their floor came up and Mike grabbed ahold of Ryan's sleeve and hurried them out of the elevator to their door.
"Hey, hey breathe," Ryan says and places a hand on Mike's shoulder. He is extremely grateful for the trust the young agent feels toward him because it does get him to breathe and calm down as they open the door to their room. Even though Ryan is still having a difficult time accepting he deserves such trust.
"I'm sorry, Ryan," Mike says and goes to sit on one of the beds. Ryan tells him he has nothing to apologize for and lays another comforting hand on Mike's shoulder. He then notices the bottle of scotch sitting near the hotel's small coffee machine and sends silent thanks to Parker.
He pours a glass for him and Mike and goes over to the room's safe and opens it using the code Parker gave to him over the phone. Ryan takes out the file and goes to sit by Mike on the bed.
Mike is staring into his drink and startles a bit when Ryan sits down.
"How helpful am I going to be now? I jump at everything and shake when I point a gun," Mike says, feeling helpless. "What damn good am I going to be?"
"I know it doesn't feel like it, but this will get better Mike. You'll get better," Ryan says and sets the file aside, deciding it can wait until morning.
When Ryan becomes aware he's been worrying about Mike more than Claire, who has just been taken by Joe, he realizes he's really in trouble when it comes to this kid. The thought comes out of nowhere, hitting him hard in the gut and he forgets how to breathe. He staggers over to the bottle of scotch and pours himself another round, draining the glass quickly.
It's not that he minds caring about Mike, it's just the particular way he cares for this young man seems to have escaped his attention until now…when's slightly buzzed from drinking scotch that fast and alone in a hotel room with his friend.
He's under the siege of this bright-eyed, young man and he wants to surrender. Every moment of his life seems to have been spent fighting against the curveballs of the world and maybe it's time to say hell with superstitious death curses and give in completely.
That is, if Mike even feels the same way. Ryan's often thought so, but why trust the thoughts of an alcoholic bent on revenge?
But he isn't drunk now. Maybe a bit tipsy from the combination of scotch and the rising emotions he feels, but he knows he needs to find out.
"Er, Ryan…you okay, sir?" Mike questions, and when Ryan looks into those concerned blue eyes, and really who has the right to have eyes that blue, he knows he's lost. He's been floating along the Mike Weston river and has just now realized he's drowning in repressed waters.
"Nnhuh," comes Ryan's reply.
"What?" Mike says and walks over to his friend.
"You don't have to call me sir," Ryan says, at a loss of what else to even say. Aren't you suppose to realize you have feelings for someone in stages? Not all at once?
"Habit," Mike chuckles. He looks softly at Ryan. "You know, you've made me laugh twice tonight. That's more than I've even smiled in the past few weeks combined. Thank you."
"I do what I can," Ryan smiles back, eyes drifting down to Mike's very kissable looking lips. He takes a step closer to the younger man.
"Ryan, what are you—" Mike starts to say but is cut off by the light press of Ryan's lips to his own. To say Mike is startled doesn't even begin to cover the emotions flitting about in his head. Granted, it's a pleasant surprise, but a surprise nonetheless.
Ryan pulls away and his eyes are wide, as if he can't quite believe what he just did.
"I, uhm…" Ryan tries to say.
"Ryan do you, I mean that wasn't just out of pity or guilt was it? Do you really want this?"
"I really want this, Mike," Ryan whispers in reply. "I want you."
Mike wants to ask him if he's sure again, but then Ryan's hands have found his waist and their lips meet again. The hunger between them both has been initiated and now it is insatiable. Mike's wanted Ryan for a while now and he also is desperate to feel safe, protected…like he does when Ryan's around.
He wraps his arms around Ryan's neck and he steers him toward the bed until they fall onto it and Mike is straddling the other man. They stop for a second to breathe and to just look at each other.
But then Mike tells Ryan he has too many layers of clothes on and sets to work undoing the buttons of Ryan's white shirt. They kiss heatedly and Ryan grabs the hem of Mike's shirt, pulling it up and off. The contact of bare chest against bare chest sends shivers through them both.
While Mike decides to leave a trail of heated kisses on Ryan's neck, Ryan slides his hand down Mike's chest toward the jeans that aren't doing much to hide Mike's arousal. He palms Mike's erection through the denim and the younger agent moans and bites down gently on Ryan's shoulder.
Ryan works quickly to divest Mike of his pants and boxers and flips them over. Mike sits up and undoes Ryan's belt while Ryan kisses him, fingertips running gently over Mike's cheek. He's never been with another man, but the scratchy feel of stubble when they kiss is a thing Ryan is finding he quite likes.
"Do you," Mike starts to say as he flips their positions again and continues to get rid of Ryan's offending pants. "have any idea," he kisses Ryan's neck and starts making a trail of kisses downward. "how much I've wanted you?" Before Ryan can respond Mike's taken off his boxers and is running his tongue over Ryan's chest while grinding their bare hips into one another.
"Mike," Ryan pants and arches into Mike's touch when his hand starts to gently slide up and down Ryan's cock. When Mike kisses him again he rolls them around until he's on top and can worship the body of this young man that has been through too much.
Ryan carefully places light kisses on the still bruised ribs and the softness in Mike's eyes at this makes Ryan want to gather the agent in his arms and hold him, but then he has a better idea.
He slides his mouth down and leaves tender bites on Mike's hipbones, places kisses on the inside of his muscled thighs, and leaves a trail of caresses everywhere except where Mike is aching to be touched.
"Ryan, please," Mike rasps, and Ryan grins before taking the agent's arousal into his mouth. He keeps his hand on the base of Mike's cock and sucks gently on the head until Mike is reduced into a babbling, writhing mess.
"If you keep doing that, ah! I'm not going to…last much longer," Mike says breathlessly between Ryan's ministrations. He threads his fingers through Ryan's hair and pulls him upward until they're kissing again, tongues swiping across bottom lips and tasting one another deeply.
As they move their mouths Ryan grabs both their erect members between his hand and they move against each other, craving the friction. Mike slides a hand down between them too and swipes a thumb against the heads of both of their cocks. Ryan grinds down harder until Mike lets out a series of the most delicious moans Ryan's ever heard and he just wants to hear that sound again. Mike digs his nails into Ryan's hips until they're moving together frantically, rocking and sliding down into a pleasurable abyss that they enter together.
When they come down from the high of orgasm, Ryan kisses Mike gently and rolls off of him. Mike watches and appreciates Ryan's ass as the agent disappears into the bathroom and returns with a wet cloth to clean them both off.
"Don't like sleeping sticky?" Mike teases, and Ryan smiles.
"Not particularly, but I might make an exception or two," Ryan says and wink.
Afterward they're under the covers and Mike is glad Ryan came back into his bed and didn't go over to the other bed. He didn't think he could handle that. But Ryan has an arm around him and is running his fingers through his hair and Mike wonders if he's fallen into a dream.
"Stop thinking so much," says a drowsy Ryan. So Mike kisses him one more time and gives into the day's exhaustion.
When Ryan wakes up in the morning it takes him a moment to remember why he's naked in a hotel bed with Agent Weston. Mike's blue eyes flutter open moment later and he smiles sweetly, telling Ryan good morning. He nuzzles closer to Ryan, but doesn't feel Ryan's arms around him anymore. He sits up.
"Ryan?" He questions in a small voice. Ryan is staring back, wondering just how smart this decision was…wondering if this might have been a way to inadvertently get Weston killed…by having him mean as much to Ryan as he does.
"Do you…wish we hadn't…?" Mike can't even get the words out.
"Shut up," Ryan says and Mike's face falls, flashes with hurt.
"Come here."
"What?"
"Shut up and come here," Ryan repeats, holding an arm open. The smile that appears on Mike's face makes Ryan's stomach do a flip and he momentarily wonders again about this choice. But then Mike is in his arms, nipping at his collarbone and licking a hot trail up his neck and Ryan tells the worries in his mind to go to hell.