Author's Note: I really REALLY hate the Riley/Owen pairing. I ONLY wrote this fic because some of my twitter friends wanted to see a Riley/Owen fic (with Owen liking Riley and disliking Zane out of jealousy), and so I wrote one for them. But know that I'm a Riley/Zane fan all the way!
Owen is in the middle of getting changed when Riley steps into the locker room.
Riley does his best not to glare at Owen, though he is one of the last people Riley wants to see right now.
And naturally, Owen wastes no time getting under his skin.
"What are you looking at?" Owen says provocatively.
"Fuck off. I'm not in the mood for your homophobic bullshit," Riley almost shouts.
"Well geez! Don't bite my head off," Owen taunts. "What got you so pissed?"
"I don't want to talk about it," Riley says as he throws his gym bag onto the bench and begins to change into his workout clothes.
"Aww, did you and princess have a fight?" Own asks mockingly.
"Don't fucking call him that," says Riley angrily.
"Ah, so you did have a fight. Did you two love birds break up?"
Riley sighs and hangs his head, "Yeah. It was pretty brutal... and... fuck. Why am I even talking to you?"
"I'm sorry you broke up," Owen says flatly.
"Like hell you are," retorts Riley.
Owen smirks, "Yeah not really."
"I want to punch something right now. And if you keep that up it's going to be you," Riley growls.
"So punch me," Owen says with a shrug.
"What?"
"Punch me – I'll fight back. We'll have a little sparing match and you can work off all that frustration."
"We're in our underwear. Wouldn't that be a little too gay for you?" Riley snaps at him.
"No, it just gives me an advantage. You'll be totally distracted by my fabulous hot bod."
Riley just shakes his head. "Whatever."
"Oh come on," Owen teases, "I bet you're getting hard right now just thinking about it."
Riley balks, "Excuse me? Jerks like you aren't really a turn on. Sorry."
"But I bet you've always wanted to fool around with your boy in this locker room," Owen sneers, "Or maybe you already have... Did he ever fuck you in the showers?"
Yes, Riley thinks to himself.
"Like maybe after that Ultimate game against Mountain Creek?"Owen suggests.
How the hell does Owen know that? Riley wonders, flushing hot with embarrassment and fighting to ignore the anger that is beginning to layer thickly over the pain and the hurt.
Riley tries to check himself, knowing he's getting close to lashing out, but he can't even pretend that it's working. He needs to get out.
Or get off...
"Would you shut up about Zane? I just want to be left in peace to go for a run," Riley manages.
Owen ignores him and continues. "Maybe he made you do it all over campus. Is Zaney-boy a little slut?"
And with that, Riley snapped.
He jumped up from the bench and slammed into Owen, pinning him against the lockers, his right forearm held against Owen's neck.
"One more word about him and I'll bash your head in!" Riley yells into Owen's face.
A smile creeps across Owen's lips. "That's more like good old Riley, before princess went and neutered you."
Riley doesn't react this time. He holds his position, breathing into Owen's face like an angry bull and leaning in to press Owen against the lockers with the full length of his body.
For a few beats they stay like that, locked together against the lockers, until suddenly Owen shifts under Riley, placing his hands low on Riley's hips and grinding up into him.
That's when Riley realizes that Owen is hard – the thin layers of underwear between them hiding nothing.
Surprised and confused, Riley surges backwards from Owen.
"What the hell is that?" Riley exclaims, vaguely pointing in the direction of the lower half of Owen's body.
"That," Owen shouts, his voice suddenly angry and unsteady, "...is all your fault!"
"My fault?" Riley shouts back, genuinely perplexed. He knowswhat Owen is saying but it seems absurd.
"Yes! Your fault!" Owen yells, hands balling into fists.
Riley's eyes are trained on Owen's face, searching frantically for an honest emotion as Owen's mask of anger briefly falters. The mix of emotions Riley sees there settle in his mind with a dauntingly familiar weight.
Unable to handle the scrutiny, Owen paces a few steps. He takes a deep breath and runs a hand over his short hair. His voice is softer now. "Shit, Riley..."
Riley starts cautiously, "Owen, I don't–"
But he doesn't get to finish as Owen abruptly turns and lunges forward to steal Riley's lips in a kiss.
The kiss is rough, unforgiving, and blatantly possessive, but at the same time, gut-wrenchingly desperate.
Their mouths crash together over and over again until Riley hastily pushes Owen away.
Owen just stares at Riley – threatening, predatory, cold... terrified, desperate, longing.
Even before he'd pushed Owen away, Riley had made the decision to accept the clear invitation. It seared his mind with fury to know he could be so selfish, that he would use someone like this, especially someone who could have been him, just to abate his own pain.
And then there was the anger at Owen, for everything he'd put Zane through. Thrown him in a dumpster like a piece of trash.
But as the rage seeps through, suffocating both his logic and his pain, Riley knew there was no turning back. He needed to forget about Zane.
And Owen is the anti-Zane.
Riley pounces at Owen. In an instant they are tangled together, rolling across the lockers, bare shoulders repeatedly slamming hard against the cool metal.
At first it's a scuffle more than it is anything sexual. But as they rut together with increasing force and urgency, something else takes over.
When they've finally settled against one locker – Riley's back to it and Owen pressed flush against him, fitting himself into every line of Riley's body – Owen tries to kiss Riley, but he turns his head away.
"Don't kiss me," Riley snarls.
A fresh flare of twined anger and jealousy charges through Owen's mind, binding him to this moment, to his decision, to what he all but begged for in the only way he knew how. He isn't sure what Riley thinks this is, but he doesn't care. He doesn't care.
He cares so fucking much.
And so Owen decides not to listen, instead taking a savage hold on the back of Riley's neck and kissing him.
Riley hardly resists as Owen's tongue forces its way into his mouth.
There's no teasing; it's not playful. Lips, tongue, teeth – everywhere. It's harsh and sharp and Owen keeps capturing Riley's bottom lip between his teeth like it's his to claim.
It's uncomfortable, their noses pressed tight together, and there's not nearly enough air as it is – their moans and gasps all stolen in the chaos of the kiss. But it feels good.
It feels like forgetting.
Riley has his arms wrapped around Owen's shoulders, one hand up on the back of his head, fingers scraping persistently against Owen's scalp, pinning their upper bodies together while they each thrust into the other. They're so out of sync that the friction is different every time – the angle all wrong, but at the same time, all kinds of right.
Owen feels a powerful shock of pleasure surge straight into his cock, and instantly the confines of his underwear are unbearable.
He moves a hand off Riley's neck to grapple with his own underwear, but Riley swats him away. Owen groans as Riley slides his hands down the back of his underwear, spreading his fingers over Owen's ass and kneading deep into the flesh.
They hardly break apart as Riley slides the fabric off, and it pools on the floor at Owen's feet before he finally kicks it away.
Owen then shifts slightly sideways, dipping his head to kiss and nip at Riley's neck and shoulder, while he rubs his bare cock against Riley's hip, and his hand makes its way down to the hem of Riley's boxer-briefs.
Owen unceremoniously shoves his hand into the front of Riley's underwear and wraps around Riley's cock. He grips it tightly, making rough, short strokes until Riley's head is tilted up against the lockers and he's biting hard on his lip.
Riley moves to take off his underwear and they flip over against the lockers yet again. It's purely skin on skin now, and they continue to grapple together, hands roaming everywhere, roughly tangled in hair, gripping on hips, skimming over solid rippling muscles.
Soon, it's really not enough anymore.
"Fuck me," Owen hisses into Riley's ear.
Without hesitation, Riley detangles himself and takes a step away. "Get ready," he says gruffly.
Owen turns over to face the lockers as Riley walks over to Owen's nearby locker. He knows Owen keeps a stash of condoms in there as a conversation piece, so he can brag about his various conquests... with women.
Riley rolls the condom on as he walks back towards Owen. He can feel his heart pounding through his entire body. He feels like he's just been in a fight, and he thinks about how it's never been like this with Zane. Intense, fast-paced, and passionate, sure, but never rough.
And certainly not wildly on the edge of violence. Not like this.
Owen meanwhile, is bent against the lockers, sucking a finger into his mouth. He buries his face in the crook of one arm as he awkwardly reaches behind himself with the other.
Owen groans softly as the first finger shallowly enters. He tries to move as quickly as possible, letting his finger sink in deeper without pause.
When he looks up to wet another finger he glances at Riley.
Riley isn't watching, he looks zoned out, and this seals Owen's determination.
Trying to get Riley's attention, he lets himself gasp and moan unrestrained as he now pushes in with two fingers.
The sounds shake Riley from his thoughts, but he doesn't need to think anymore. He knows he was wrong. He doesn't want to forget Zane. He just misses him.
The anger is fading; Riley's heart aches with something else. A minute ago he was ready to pound into Owen until they were both spent and dazed. But suddenly, a numbing locker-room fuck is the last thing Riley wants.
But Riley watches as Owen removes his fingers, and in an instant he is crowded behind him.
He starts thrusting fast over the cleft of Owen's ass, the tip of Riley's cock repeatedly tracing up and down the sensitive path.
Owen's entire body is tense like a taut elastic. Having failed to notice the change in Riley's demeanour, he braces for Riley to swiftly plunge inside without warning.
Eventually Riley slows down, trading speed for pressure, and runs a hand up Owen's back. He can feel the tension, and every flinch that Owen tries to hide.
"I'll start slow, promise." Riley says softly.
The surprise of those smooth, rounded words carries a sharp sting for Owen. Riley's gently whispered promises won't make things any easier.
They'll do the opposite.
Owen catches his breath as Riley spits in his hand and rubs it over the end of his sheathed cock, and then aligns himself into position.
Finally, Riley presses in. And he goes very slowly.
As promised.
Riley waits for Owen to adjust, progressing little by little, pulling back before going forward again. But the groans coming from Owen sound foreign and unfamiliar to Riley, and he can't seem to read them.
"Okay?" Riley asks.
Owen doesn't respond. He doesn't trust his voice to not reveal that Riley's reassuring hand on his back, and the other reaching around stroking his cock, are almost too much to take – the actions tender in a way that is distinctly more polite than affectionate.
But as the pace picks up, Owen can pretend otherwise, with Riley smoothly thrusting deep inside of him over and over again. His mind gets cloudy as he lets himself get lost in it all – the rhythm, the sound, the feel.
Then, Owen suddenly bolts awake to the sound of his alarm, breathing hard, cock rock-solid in his pyjama bottoms.
That dream. Again.
Fuck.
He groans and slams his hand down on the snooze button of his alarm, silently thanking it for waking him when it did.
Owen knows how the dream ends. It's always the same: The pressure of a few final, erratic thrusts, and Riley tumbling over the edge, gasping Zane's name.