Tonight was Madden night.
The two pizzas that Ryan had purchased had been eaten and the remaining cardboard lay abandoned in the kitchen. He and Esposito were sitting on the couch, the one Javier hated, like they did every other Thursday. The beer had left him feeling buzzed and he could feel the heat from his partners' body meeting his own; he had never noticed it before.
When he told Javier that Jenny was away at a work function, he was lying. They weren't a couple or anything, but the one Madden night Jenny had sat in on was, for lack of a better word, terrible. She was a third wheel, a third wheel who talked. Needless to say, he was happy to have the apartment to himself.
He loved Jenny, he really did, but sometimes she just got to be too much. Everyday she would talk almost animatedly about her day and how every client was worse than their predecessor. He stopped listening about two minutes in and it was all okay, until she noticed.
The fights began about two weeks ago and tension followed them around the empty corridors. Let's just say that he and the couch got a lot better acquainted. Much to his dismay, it wasn't just about his lack of listening skills. She also wanted him to throw out his couch, apparently it was unsanitary, and get rid of the X-box. He had said no.
People always thought they were the perfect couple and that he was whipped, and he wasn't denying the second part. Behind the façade their relationship was strained. She didn't understand him. She didn't care. Not about he felt or how his day went. After a bad case he would have beers with Esposito and come home to an empty house, not even a note.
Hell, he had a better relationship with Javier than with any girl he ever dated, and sometimes that thought crossed his mind a little too often. It never festered for long though. He wasn't gay; he was a hundred percent straight, at least until he met Javier.
In the beginning, he didn't even recognize the feelings- the weird butterfly's in his stomach when his partner bought him coffee or the fact he actually cleaned the house when the older man visited.
Recently, however, they had become more and more apparent. Before the locker rooms were just places to change, but now he dreaded them. There was too much exposed skin and a sweaty Esposito was, well, hot. He had found himself staring once or twice; his eyes lingering on the muscled planes before flitting away. He hoped that nobody noticed.
But Madden nights were different. It was their thing, a sacred ritual of booze, food and television.
A laugh escaped the Irishman as his player was tackled. He didn't care, he could still win. With a content sigh, he rose to retrieve more beer, running the three feet to the fridge. The heavy door creaked open and cool air washed over him. He was happy for the distraction.
He pulled out the cold bottles, thankful for the extra alcohol. Returning to the red sofa, he sat down heavily beside his partner, the heat radiating off his body more evident that before.
Kevin reached out for the controller, and expected Javier to do the same. Instead, he was met by a cool hand wrapping itself around his wrist. He swallowed deeply and held his heavy breath; eyes wide open as instinct took over. His muscles froze and his pulse jumped wildly against the tan fingers.
Slowly, he turned to face Javier, scared for what he may see. The dark eyes were focused, too focused. They seemed hesitant and almost predatory, like a lion tracking its prey. The butterfly's returned and Ryan felt his mouth go dry. The guessing game was over.
He could only watch as his partner drew closer, eyes never straying from the blue orbs in front of him. Before the Irishman had a chance to calm himself down, Esposito kissed him. His lips were soft and warm against the smaller man's, but they were not welcomed.
Ryan's mouth remained shut, his heart fighting the action and failing miserably. Fear made him unresponsive, but inside he was everything but calm. His mind was on fire, cycling through footage like an old filmmaker. Flashes of genius and mediocre slides flew across his consciousness until everything became a blur. Good and bad lost their clear division. He was lost.
He wanted to respond, but the logical part of his mind kept his lips sealed. It was right in a way, this was a terrible idea. The kiss- one could almost take it as a confession of love, or at least lust- was completely new to him. Their relationship, which had been carefully constructed, had been crumbling for a while now. The once stone walls were now paper thin and tedious winds threatened the delicate arches and threadbare walls.
This new pattern was more beautiful though, and thin streams of sunlight stuttered through the winding architecture. If he was honest, he quite liked the transparency, but it scared him none the less. The thicker the walls, the stronger they were, the less that could break them.
He couldn't do this, but it was happening none the less. They had never had sexual tension, at least not by Beckett standards. Their close proximity, it should have been weird, but instead it felt almost natural. They had so many handshakes, and not to forget those silent conversations. He always thought it was just a great partnership, that they just gelled, but then again so did Castle and Beckett.
It was wrong and he knew it. They were partners and most importantly, both guys. Never since their meeting did he ever question Esposito's sexuality. The passing glances he threw at women told him all that he needed to know, his partner was completely and utterly straight. Or at least he had been.
His body continued to panic but he was finally able to think again. The thick cloud which fogged his brain began to clear and new light drove his thoughts. Once again his heart began to protest, but logic was victorious. Violently, he pulled away, instantly missing the warmth.
This was it, the final tedious wind. The air was heavy with danger and he could feel millions of tiny alarms screaming in unison. The towers and doorways were crumbling, the walls collapsing. This was the end, he swallowed dryly. He forced himself to retreat.
Their partnership was jeopardized and it was better to leave it at that than destroy it.
His wide eyes refocused on the scene in front of him. The look on Javier's face was heart breaking, and Ryan resisted the urge to hold him close and kiss him again. His brown eyes were swimming with emotions- sadness, shame and most of all confusion.
Kevin had rejected emotion for logic and it seemed like an unequal trade.
Javier left in a rush; eyes down, hands askew and face defeated. A sad sigh echoed around the empty apartment as the door slammed shut, air thick with angered regret. The spot where Javier had sat was now empty and faded stains shone from beneath the remaining warmth. The two controllers lay abandon on the worn coffee table where drink shaped rings would eventually become a permanent reminder.
Silence filled the apartment and all was dark but the light of the moon and the florescent glow of the screen. For the first time in his life, he was glad for the loneliness. It was better than being with Jenny.
Kevin found comfort in the worn cushions. He could still feel the heat from when the incident had taken place. He wanted to hit something, and he wanted to cry, but he settled on doing neither. He cleaned up the pizza box and groggily finished off the two beers.
He slept on the couch that night, too. The familiar action felt like any other night, and how he wished it was. Maybe, the thought optimistically, it was just a dream. But, the tingling of his lips told him differently.
His eyes finally surrendered to the fatigue. The last thing he saw was the face of his partner, and the remains of his castle turned into dust.