Kyle

It had been one of those days.

One of those days where Kyle wanted nothing more than to go home and go straight to sleep. He'd spent the morning revising like crazy for his exams, then he'd gone to the hospital to work only to have one woman insist she couldn't be tended to by a fag. How the hell she had even known he was gay, Kyle had no idea. She probably just have an impeccable gaydar or something.

And that was the reason why he was so not in the mood to arrive home and find what he did.

It wasn't even a matter of being jealous, it was just that he really didn't have the patience.

Cass was straddling Oliver, her arms around his neck and her hips subtly grinding against his as they kissed. The worst part wasn't even what they were doing, it was the fact that it made their relationship real, for definite. It made his heart break a little bit more in his chest.

He stood there stupidly or a minute and then those blue eyes opened, widened and Oliver realised he was standing there. Honestly, Kyle just wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole, it would save him the misery.

Oliver

"K-Kyle, you l-live here?" Oliver asked, dumbfounded as he stared at where Kyle stood in the doorway to the apartment, his keys hanging loose in his hand.

He had just been staring at them, but at the sound of Oliver's voice, his features knitted together into a scowl. "Yeah," he said bitterly, his voice laced with that classic and vicious Kyle Lewis sarcasm, "Sorry for the inconvenience of that, I'll just be in my room." The front door slammed shut behind him and he literally stalked through the apartment towards his room. "Have fun you two," he tossed over his shoulder, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Oliver couldn't help but wince at his tone. He really hated upsetting Kyle like this, because he knew it was upsetting him. It was written all over his face whenever he looked at Oliver. And he knew Kyle would never believe him, but Oliver actually hated himself for what he was doing, he just didn't see a way that it could be helped. Other than leaving, but he had a feeling Kyle would dislike that just as much as him sticking around.

"Well somebody's in a bad mood," Cass muttered, really not looking all that bothered. Maybe Kyle was in a bad mood a lot, Oliver didn't know. "Oh well," she muttered, her lips moving closer to his again, "I'll take him a cup of coffee in a bit."

Her mouth closed over Oliver's and the kiss was sweet, but it wasn't electrifying, it wasn't amazing, it was just a kiss. Her fingers pushed into the back of his hair and he let his eyes drift closed, imagining when Kyle used to do exactly the same thing. He imagined that the thighs either side of his were harder, firmer, larger, that the hair he ran his fingers through was shorter, not quite as dark and a lot softer.

Oliver knew she could feel his arousal pressing against her and she moaned softly into his mouth. Her voice was higher than Kyle's, not as rough or husky, but it had the same accent. He could use that, his imagination practically soaked that up.

He moved them so that she was pinned beneath his body and she was too slender, not as firm, but he ignored that. She pulled her top over her head as he did the same to his own, both of them fell to the floor beside the sofa. He ran his hands over her body, wishing the chest was flat, the abs rock hard with that small happy trail of dark hair leading south. And even though it wasn't, even though the body he was loving didn't seem to be the right one, he could imagine it in his head and that was enough.

He let himself fall into his imagination.

He kissed his way down Kyle's body, trailing his tongue across his flesh, letting it dip into his bellybutton like Oliver knew he loved. He nipped lightly on Kyle's hip bones as he tugged down his trousers, pulling them off and dropping them to the floor to join their shirts.

Fingers in his hair tugged him back up, lips met his hungrily and he devoured them, letting his tongue slide over Kyle's before sucking lightly on his lower lip. He felt his belt being undone and climbed off the sofa briefly to push them down, remembering to grab the condom out of his back pocket. That condom was taken from him, but only for a second because soon skilled fingers were rolling it down his length. He couldn't help but moan slightly at that contact.

Then he was being pulled back onto the sofa, his dick automatically seeking out the warm heat. When the head pushed in, it was tight and warm, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't what he expected, it wasn't what he wanted. But it was all he had, all that was offered. That first entry shattered his dream, shattered what his imagination had created and he had to lie still for a moment, fully seated inside of Cass, just breathing and trying to gain control.

His memories helped him out, the memories of rough breathing, of huskily whispered words, words that often didn't even make sense. He clung to those sounds, clung to the memories as he started to move. He buried his face in the crook of Cass' neck, images flickering behind his eyelids before one stuck.

In his old college dorm room, the one he shared with Kyle, his legs were tangled in the sheets, Kyle's legs locked behind his ass. Kyle was moaning, softly, trying to stay quiet because he knew there were people who could hear them. His eyes were locked on Oliver's, keeping them connected in another way other than physical. His heels dug into Oliver's ass as he reached between them with one hand to touch himself, his other hand delving into Oliver's hair. A small, contented smile appeared on Kyle's face and he used the grip on Oliver's hair to pull him down, to kiss him so gently, with so much love that it all of a sudden became too much.

He slammed into Kyle twice more, his hips stuttering and moaning as he tumbled over the edge. And Kyle was right there with him, his head dropping back as his eyes rolled into the back of his head, breaking the connection for that moment. His mouth was open, but no sound came out for a while and then he moaned, low and raspy, Oliver's name.

It was the most beautiful thing Oliver had ever seen. He leant down to press his mouth against Kyle's, longing to kiss him when fingers stroked over his back and they were too soft, the touch too light, not rough and firm like Kyle's had often been. And that brought him back to reality, where he was lying with his face still buried in Cass' neck, breathing heavily as she ran her fingers along his spine.

In his chest, his heart felt faraway still, still stuck in the past, in his dreamland and his imagination . . . with Kyle.

Kyle

He could hear them, he could hear what they were doing. Cass wasn't exactly quiet, never had been, but it hadn't ever bothered him before. It wouldn't have bothered him now either, if he hadn't been able to hear Oliver's own moans mingling in with hers.

He was enjoying it.

Kyle knew that sound, he knew how Oliver sounded when he was enjoying it.

He was definitely enjoying it now.

And that just killed Kyle. It made him die a little inside, made him feel physically ill. His fist slammed into the framed photograph, the glass smashing, embedding into his knuckles, but he hardly even registered the pain. Because how could any physical pain content with the pain inside of him.

He crumpled in a heap to the floor, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes, hoping that maybe that would block it out. But nothing, nothing could block it out, not when the moans could be heard inside his head now. Not when the only thing he seemed to be able to think about was Oliver.

His Oliver, who wasn't even his Oliver anymore.