The Way It's Gotta Be

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The Way It’s Gotta Be

They’d almost touched today.

After thinking about it a little further, Ken decided that wasn’t entirely fair. He and Joe had touched – and quite a lot – since Joe had returned to them.

This time, though, it wasn’t that physical touch that Ken’s brain remembered and his body craved worse than any drug. It was that connection they’d always shared in the past, that innate awareness of the other, what he was thinking and feeling. It was that knowing what they each would do a split second before actually doing it.

They’d almost gotten that back today. One brief second, both of them lost in the heat of the fight, acting and reacting on instinct, and for that instant, they’d been in sync, as if no time had passed.

But then he had reacted too slowly, or maybe Joe had moved too quickly, and everything felt all wrong again.

Being so close… it was almost too much to bear. Especially now, Ken thought, staring out into the darkened room, because it’s not nearly as much as I want.

He sighed and rolled over onto his back, the ancient bed frame creaking softly with his movement.

Rhythmic squeaks, the headboard thudding against the wall in counterpoint as Joe thrust above him, Joe’s eyes glowing almost silver in the moonlight…

Groaning, Ken covered his eyes with one arm and clenched his other hand into the soft linens of the bed, trying to ignore the way his firming erection tented the sheet. “Go away,” he ground out, gritting his teeth until his jaw hurt. “Go away.”

It was a moment before he realized what he was doing. When he did, he sucked in a breath and held it, not sure if it would be a laugh or a sob when he let it out. I’m losing it. I’m going crazy.

Ken had been sure he’d been going crazy for weeks. Weeks of Jinpei and Jun claiming they’d heard Joe, seen a glimpse of him, been helped by him. Each time they’d mentioned his name, it had cut Ken up inside, until it felt like his soul had been sliced to ribbons. Because Joe was dead. They’d all seen him dying in the ruins above Cross Karakorum, they’d been unable to find his body in the rubble after Katse had been defeated.

He was dead. There was no coming back from that. They all knew it.

Except he did. And that, Ken thought, was probably the worst part of it.

Joe had come back… but he still sort of hadn’t. He hadn’t wanted the team to know he was still alive, hadn’t wanted Ken to know.

And knowing that... Ken shuddered, closing his eyes. He just couldn’t accept it, just couldn’t believe…

I’m glad I decked him, he thought, not caring that even in his head he sounded defensive. I’m glad. He fucking well deserved it.

Joe believed it, too; he hadn’t even offered to throw a punch in return, hadn’t followed him when he’d stalked off.

And that’s not him, Ken thought slowly, turning the idea over and over in his mind. A second later, he realized what he was doing and he groaned, shame flooding him. Oh, God, I’m considering him a threat. I’m considering Joe a threat.

Then another thought struck him, even more horrible than the first, and it hurt, hurt worse than any physical blow he’d ever taken. Maybe he is. Maybe he is a threat. Because he’s being secretive, he’s acting like… like he did at the end, he’s keeping something from us. From me.

“We can’t go back to the way we were… before.” Joe had his hands shoved in his pockets, staring down at his feet.

Ken opened his mouth, about to protest, then closed it again. The words, delivered so coolly, made his mouth dry up. Slowly, he nodded, his fists clenched to keep himself from reaching out and grabbing Joe and shaking him. “All right,” he managed and was shocked at how normal he sounded. “If that’s what you want.”

And it was Joe who reached out, hands gripping his upper arms so tightly he was sure he’d have bruises “No, damnit, it’s not what I want!”. They were so close now their chests were almost brushing, and Ken half expected Joe to kiss him, with all that fierce passion he remembered…

But then he suddenly remembered himself, and shoved Ken away so forcefully he actually stumbled, and all that rage just drained out of him. “It’s not what I want,” he repeated dully, “but it’s the way it’s gotta be.”

No explanation. Just it’s the way it’s gotta be.

That wasn’t Joe, Ken reflected, shifting a little. Joe was honesty and heat and anger. He was single-minded, stubborn to a fault… and a host of other things besides.

This guy who’d told me the way it’s gotta be? That’s not Joe at all.

Joe snarled over his shoulder, and Ken pushed him into the wall, using every bit of leverage he could get. He held Joe’s wrists, and forced his hands into place, bracing them at shoulder-height on the wall. “Leave them there,” he ordered, “and spread.” He kicked against one of Joe’s feet until his stance had widened. A growl rumbled in Joe’s chest, a volcano just about to erupt, and anyone else would have been backing up in fear of his life.

But Ken knew that this was just a game, and when he ground his cock against Joe’s ass, Joe arched up into him, growl flattening out into a heartfelt groan of arousal. Deliberately fumbling with the heavy buckle of Joe’s belt, Ken let his fingers brush against Joe’s cock, and it was as hard and ready as his own.

“Bastard,” Joe panted, pressing back against him, “do it, do it, damnit, do it…”

Ken smiled and stretched to bite his ear, suddenly efficient hands stripping his jeans down his thighs.

Lost in the sense memory, feeling Joe groan and shudder, Ken was caught by surprise by the wave of excitement sweeping over him. It was only then that he discovered he’d wrapped one hand around his cock, stroking firmly, quickly, already feeling the heat spreading through his body, his climax only moments away.

No, he protested uselessly. I’m not going to get myself off thinking of him when he can’t even look me in the fucking eye!

But then it was too late; he thrust up into his own grip one last time and gasped as the pleasure broke over him.

After only a few seconds Ken returned to himself, and remembering filled him with shame. He let go of his softening cock as if it were a venomous snake, and winced when it flopped against his body, over-sensitive in the wake of his orgasm. Shivering, suddenly cold, he carefully wiped the sticky residue off his hand.

It was a long time before he relaxed into sleep, and his night was filled with dreams where Joe had turned against them all.

The nightmare began when he realized that the dreams didn’t bother him at all.