andlatitude - Tumblr blog

andlatitude · 1 month ago

Text

Run on Back to Me | Stavier

3.2k words | Rated: E

_____

Steve's pity party has been going on for a few days, and it's not Javier's place to interrupt it. Maybe it's time, though. He might have just what the doctor ordered.

_____

also on ao3

The sound of tires on the road outside was impossibly loud in the apartment.

Then again, any sound, right now, seemed impossibly loud to Steve’s ears. The place was empty – of any other person, at least – and that made everything else seem like it was trying doubly hard to fill up the space that he wasn’t occupying. The ticking of the wall clock, the sound of the refrigerator humming, even the sound of the floor under his feet as he moved from room to room. It all sounded much louder than it would have, normally.

He was sober, though. Now.

Admittedly, it had taken Javi showing up and telling him to eat, shower and, yes, sober up that had done it. When he’d first opened the apartment door to find Javi standing there, the wave of shame had almost done him in. Somehow, he’d assumed that by the time Javi came to find him, he’d be back to himself.

Instead, he was hardly dressed, the apartment looked like someone had taken the contents of a frat house garbage bin or six and spread them over every surface, and he couldn’t begin to imagine what he smelled like. Cheap food, stale beer and body odour, likely.

All the self-pity hadn’t been doing him favours.

It wasn’t just the empty apartment, either. That was, absolutely, part of it, there was no denying that, but being left to himself for a day – two? – had been causing havoc with his mental stability. Somehow, he’d half-convinced himself that he really was a fuck-up of monumental note. Couldn’t keep his wife feeling safe enough to stay. Couldn’t do the job he’d been trying to do for years. And his partner...

There was something about the way Javi had looked at him when Steve had passed him that beer that had made him feel a little ill in a way that had little to do with the amount of alcohol he’d drank on an empty stomach.

Once Javi had left, with the ghost of that expression haunting him, and his untouched beer sitting on the coffee table, Steve had done what he’d suggested. He’d cleaned up. He’d looked at the bread on the kitchen counter and the suspicious spot on it that he might not have noticed if he hadn’t stopped drinking before Javi came over. Instead, he’d dressed – a little better, if, still, in clothes from the pile he’d made over the last two nights – and walked to one of the nearby shops. Gotten himself real, substantial food, and gone home to make it.

And then, headache starting to creep in, he’d popped a Tylenol and showered.

It was all supposed to make him feel better, and that much he knew. For a bit, it had. Stepping out of the shower and into the hallway, towel wrapped around his waist, hair and skin feeling properly clean for the first time in days, teeth brushed, it had felt better. The setting sun was lighting up the apartment in reds and oranges, and every surface was clean, again, no scattered dishes, no rogue beer bottles. He’d accomplished something, and it felt like things were setting right.

Then he’d gotten himself dressed, in clean sweats and an old hoodie, and felt the silence creeping in on him, pressing close like some monster that wanted to slip inside him, again, and pull him back down into the pit Javi’s arrival had yanked him out of.

Because it wasn’t just the silence. It was the reminder of Javi’s face, the way Steve hadn’t seen him for days, only spoken to him on the phone, and when he did, he was like this.

That wasn’t even Javi’s fault. Steve was the one who hadn’t opened the door when he’d knocked. Just laid on the couch and waited for him to leave. Trust Javi not to push it, not with this. He wouldn’t see it as his place, no matter how much they’d talked it over, no matter what agreements they had.

He hadn’t forced his presence on Steve until the arrival of Claudia Messina had made it impossible to keep respecting his pity party.

Might have helped, Steve knew, if he’d opened the door any of the other times Javi had come by. Instead, he’d stayed inside, and moped, and it was a damn lucky thing Javi had come to check on him at all. Steve hadn’t exactly been the most generous with his time, or his words.

The sun had gone down, and his hair was dry, probably not in the most put together way, and there wasn’t a single unopened bottle left in the apartment. Even the one Javi had left untouched, Steve had poured down the drain. All in the name of chasing off the vague feeling of shame, and sense of disappointing Javi, because he couldn’t take that, on top of everything else.

He’d pulled his running shoes on – beat up, stupid things he’d brought from Miami and really could have replaced three times by now – and picked up his keys before he knew what he was doing. Standing in the doorway, he looked down at them in his hand, warring with himself.

It wasn’t far. He could be back with a bottle of whiskey in ten minutes.

Stepping out of the apartment, he locked the door behind himself, locking in the silence that had been stalking him through empty rooms for the last few nights.

Then he made his way down the stairs, turned, and taking a breath as he stood in the shadows surrounding it, knocked on Javi’s door.

There was a damn good chance he wouldn’t be home. He wasn’t on temporary leave like Steve ‘Beat The Shit Out of Some Coke-Snorting Yuppie in an Airport Bathroom’ Murphy. No sooner had his knuckles rapped on the door, though, did he hear movement inside, footsteps coming closer before the lock flipped and the knob turned.

Javi’s apartment, unlike Steve’s, wasn’t darkened. There was warm lamplight filtering through around him as he leaned in the doorway and looked Steve over.

“You showered.”

Steve smiled, a lopsided, half-hearted thing. “It was good advice.”

“Did you eat?”

The genuine concern in Javi’s voice, the way his eyebrows furrowed as he asked, meeting Steve’s eyes, was too much. Without answering him, Steve stepped forward into his space, hand curling around Javi’s neck to pull him into a kiss.

Javi could have pushed him off. Steve wouldn’t have been surprised if he had. Steve had been a mess for days, had avoided him every time he’d come around, and now he was looking for comfort, or absolution, somewhere that he might not deserve it.

Instead of pushing him off, though, Steve felt Javi’s arm go around him, pulling him closer, into the apartment. The door closed behind them, the lock flipped, and Steve took that as all the invitation he needed, guiding Javi backwards, down his entryway hall, chasing his lips with every step until they had to break apart to step down into the living room.

“Not sure this counts as an answer, Murphy.”

Steve kicked his shoes off. Too far into Javi’s home with them on, but of his recent sins, that one seemed the least damning. “I don’t remember the question.”

Javi was too forgiving, his smile too open. It didn’t matter that he’d seen Steve as low as he had been, earlier. He wasn’t judging him.

Steve didn’t understand how the hell he’d kept the door shut for as long as he had.

They weren’t strangers to Javi’s living room, but the bedroom wasn’t far. When Javi pulled him that way, he didn’t resist, following him only until he could push him down onto the mattress and climb over him.

“I ate,” he answered, finally. “Proud of me?”

“Incredibly.”

Javi guided him down to kiss him, and Steve went easily, their bodies settling together in the unmade sheets, both of them still dressed. There wasn’t an urgency to it, their kisses slow, the touch of Javi’s hands sliding under the cotton of his hoodie teasing. He’d changed, since Steve had seen him, into a t-shirt and jeans, and even in that he seemed more dressed than Steve.

That needed remedied. Pulling away and sitting back between Javi’s legs, Steve undid the button on his jeans, and then the zip, before pausing. It was hard not to, with the way Javi was shaking his head, yanking on the edge of Steve’s sleeve.

“Get this off.” The corner of his mouth lifted in a way that told Steve he was trying not to laugh. “I can’t fucking look at you wearing tourist shit if you’re going to prove you’ve got it back together enough.”

Steve had frowned, before remembering the big, gaudy ‘MIAMI’ that was stitched across the front of the hoodie.

“It’s not tourist shit, asshole,” Steve answered, following Javi’s orders either way and reaching down to pull the thing up and off, tossing it somewhere off the side of the bed. It didn’t matter. “I fucking lived there.”

Javi grinned, the damn thing lighting up the dim room, and why had Steve not opened the door sooner?

“Yeah, everyone can tell.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Steve’s reply was punctuated by laughter, leaning back over Javi to kiss him again. It was impossible to resist that fucking smile, or the feeling of Javi’s hands sliding down his back, pressing Steve’s hips down into his own. Tourist shit or not, taking the hoodie off and getting Javi’s hands on his bare skin, the first he’d had in days, felt grounding.

Breaking away from Javi’s mouth, Steve trailed his mouth over his jaw, teeth tugging at his ear lobe just to hear the sound Javi made. His hands slid between them, getting back to tugging Javi’s jeans away, shifting so he could lift his hips and let Steve yank the denim down.

They were too tangled up to get them out of the way entirely, and Steve suspected Javi had been about to say that. It was enough, though. Enough, with the way Javi chose to dress himself. Jeans bunched at his thighs where they were spread by Steve being between them, and just enough for Steve to get a hand on his cock, stroking him slow from base to tip. With his face pressed into Javi’s neck, breathing him in, he could hear the way Javi’s breath caught, before he let it out, the quiet, hidden edge of a groan low in his throat.

There were few sounds so perfect to Steve’s ears, and that one he could stand to hear more of. It went right through him, along with the way he could feel Javi’s pulse jump under his lips as Steve teased his thumb over the head.

He’d never expected that he would, really, know another man’s body the way he knew his own, but Javi had opened his eyes to a hell of a lot of things in the time they’d known each other. He knew how Javi liked to be touched, and he knew what would make him frustrated, and right now...

“Fucksakes, Murphy...”

Steve smiled, shifting in a way that he knew was forcing Javi’s legs further apart, making the open waist of his jeans cut into his thighs even more. It couldn’t be comfortable, but he wasn’t complaining about that.

The lingering headache was gone, now. A good thing, with the way Javi’s fingers tangled in his hair and pulled him back to his mouth. The kiss was a more urgent thing, and Steve let himself sink into it, both hands pushing under Javi’s body, his own pressing down, again, the thin cotton of his sweats doing nothing to keep any secrets from either of them.

He kissed Javi until he couldn’t take it anymore. Until the feeling of their bodies pressing, rocking against each other, and the sound of Javi’s quiet, appreciative groans shattered his resolve. It said something, about how well they knew each other, now, that when he pulled away, sitting back on his knees, Javi followed him, sitting up to take off his t-shirt. His jeans were next, both of them shifting on the bed without discussion to accommodate it.

Steve’s sweatpants joined them, somewhere on the floor with his hoodie.

“Taking a page out of my book?”

Javi’s tone wasn’t entirely teasing, nor was it as cool as, maybe, Steve expected he might have wanted it to be. Steve hadn’t planned on going anywhere, after his shower, and underwear hadn’t been needed, but he was happy for it, now.

Less to get out of the way when Javi’s hand curled around the back of his neck and pulled him in, and down. Bare, Steve could feel every inch of Javi’s skin against his own, could feel his cock, hard and needy, against his hip, the warmth of his skin against Steve’s. He didn’t bother with being cool, with not letting out the whimper that pressed up in his throat, hips involuntarily rutting against Javi.

Javi always knew what he needed, even if Steve didn’t know where to start. He only broke away for a second, putting his palm to his mouth. Other hand sliding into his hair, Javi pulled Steve back in, tongue trailing over his upper lip in a way that made him feel a little like his brain already wasn’t working. Already, even while Javi’s hand slipped between them, wrapping around both of their cocks.

It wasn’t coordinated. It could never be, but it felt good, Javi’s soft, hot skin against his, his hand working them both slowly, spit mixing with precome. Neither of them could keep focus, kisses breaking on groans, on shuddered breaths. Steve’s forehead pressed to Javi’s, and his fist tightened in the sheets, and not for the first time since Javi had opened the door, Steve regretted not letting him in sooner.

“Stop – Javi, stop.”

“That’s a new one.”

It didn’t escape Steve’s notice that Javi sounded just as breathless as him, but so much more in control, and that needed to change. Grabbing both sides of his face, Steve kissed him, bruising, hungry, drinking in the way Javi gave as good as he got. He never missed a step, not even when Steve pulled away. His fingers slipped from his hair, letting him go, and maybe it was understanding, and maybe it was selfishness and want, but whatever it was, Steve didn’t care.

What he did care about was hearing the sound that came out of Javi’s mouth when Steve settled between his legs, one hand on his hip, keeping his still, the other on his cock, taking the part of him Steve couldn’t take in his mouth.

“Fuck, Steve—”

This was good. Javi didn’t keep away from letting Steve know it felt good, and maybe Steve hadn’t been a fucking pro at this when they’d started, but he knew, now, what Javi liked. The hand on his hip keeping him still, Steve took Javi’s cock down slow, savouring the weight of it on his tongue, drawing back to the head only when he’d bumped against his own fingers. As badly as he wanted this, he took his time, dragging his tongue over the tip and tasting Javi, stroking the length of him.

“Not – fucking going to last, Steve—”

Glancing up, Steve caught the way Javi was looking at him. A half-hearted glare at best, the colour high in his cheeks, dark eyes even darker with need, his hair tousled. Holding his gaze, Steve trailed his tongue through the precome beading on the tip of Javi’s cock again.

It had the exact effect Steve had hoped for.

“Please.”

Soft, needy, even as Javi’s fingers slid into his hair, again, pulling at the strands, and Steve gave in. Taking Javi down again, he picked up his movements, hand working with his mouth, the one on Javi’s hip hardly keeping a hold on him anymore. Javi was making the most perfect sounds, his voice getting breathier, tighter, as his hips pushed, small, involuntary, desperate little movements into Steve’s touch.

“Steve – fuck – Steve, I’m right there—”

He didn’t need the warning, but Steve loved hearing it, closing his eyes and letting Javi push into his mouth, letting him chase what he needed, his cock sliding through the circle of Steve’s fingers and against his tongue, until he stiffened, and shuddered, and Steve pulled back only enough not to end up coughing when Javi came in his mouth.

It was messy, it always fucking was, but the sound of Javi’s voice, the feeling of him under Steve as he pulled away, swallowing and wiping his mouth and taking a second to breath with his hot cheek against Javi’s sweaty thigh, was more than worth it. Feeling how Javi sagged with relief, because of him, Javi, who had been by, trying to look after him for days and finally getting through.

Christ, Steve felt good. Even with his own cock aching and hard between his legs, trapped against the damp sheets where he’d been pressing himself.

It never took Javi long to recover, but this time felt like Steve hadn’t even caught his breath before he was being pulled up. He had Javi’s come in his mouth and caught in his mustache, and it didn’t matter a bit, clearly. Not to Javi, who kissed his swollen lips and tasted himself while his hands grabbed at Steve, guiding him in, forcing him to straddle Javi’s thighs with legs that were pretty unstable for someone who hadn’t even come yet.

Maybe it was because he knew what was coming, even before Javi’s hand touched him. It was easy, now, he’d been leaking on the bed and on himself, and Javi knew how to touch him, how to work him over. Steve lost the ability to keep up with Javi’s kisses, and he had a feeling, with how Javi was smiling, that’s what he wanted.

He wanted Steve whining, quietly, and rocking his hips into Javi’s hand, and gripping his shoulders. He wanted Steve’s thighs shaking, and his breath catching. He wanted Steve groaning his name, not as a warning, but as some kind of praise, and he wanted Steve coming on his thighs and his stomach, making a mess of both of them before he collapsed into him.

Steve had hardly caught his breath before, but it felt impossible to get ahold of, now, his heart hammering in his chest, forehead pressing to Javi’s shoulder, body fully sinking into him. They were messy, sweaty, both of them shuddering a little.

It was the best Steve had felt in days.

“You need another shower.”

As the first words after that, Steve didn’t think they were particularly expected, but they were, in a way, perfect, and maybe that was why he laughed, a little helpless, pulling back to meet Javi’s eyes.

There was a type of fondness there that Steve had a feeling he didn’t want to give up any time soon. It had saved him from himself, not just tonight, but a few times over.

“You’re not exactly daisy fresh, yourself.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to send you in alone,” Javi rolled his eyes, but his expression was still soft. Easy. “Partners, right?”

“Mm.”

It wasn’t much of an answer, but Steve suspected the kiss he followed it up with, slow, lazy, but enough to keep his heartbeat picked up, made it clear.

#oooooof it’s sooo good 🥵🥵#and also like. sweet??? she has a GIFT #stavier #steve murphy #javier peña #narcos #chrisfic

22 notes · View notes