Archive of Our Own ^beta

Sometimes Carmy got on Sydney’s nerves. Well, actually, that happened a lot, because he’ll admit, he wasn’t the easiest person to get along with, or to coax out of his shell, or to even exist in the same room with. In fact, according to Sydney, it was “like pulling fucking teeth”.

Carmy had always been a bit of a mystery to Sydney. Beneath his encyclopedic knowledge of cooking and his incredibly high work ethic, he knew Sydney noticed that there lurked a shadow she couldn't quite get to. His smile, already uncommon, was only replaced by a persistent emptiness in his eyes. Sydney had a nagging suspicion that something was eating away at him, but every time she tried to probe, he deflected with a well-timed subject change. She lost more sleep over him than she'd like to admit.

But sometimes he took the bottling up way too far, and that’s what came to mind when Carmy realized Sydney wouldn’t have had it in her to raise a hand to Carmy even a few months ago. Recently there had been a couple of times where Carmy had told her “I’m alright , Chef, keep working” as he typically did when he was stressed, and instead of her usual patience with him, he had looked into Sydney’s eyes and just seen pure frustration– almost rage, her expression saying something like, oh my god, why won't you just fucking tell me?!

He had been brushing her off too many times, not telling her what was going on, and she didn't seem proud that she worried so much about him, but it was so much that it annoyed her to not be able to help. Ironically, she cared so much it got to the point that Carmy thought Sydney was entirely capable of almost punching him recently.

Which is what happened. Sydney almost punched him.

Carmy wasn't even sure what exactly happened, but he’d been shutting Sydney out because she didn't deserve to deal with his dumb problems, especially since they had been in his office all day. He had been sitting at his desk looking at his (Natalie’s) to-do list, with finance shit and links to goddamn spreadsheets that he'd never had to use before this. Meanwhile, he was making Sydney compare ingredients and amounts for this weirdly specific recipe from different articles for hours now, and she sent him one from like, ten years ago, but the words didn't register in his head no matter how many times he read them, and wasn't he supposed to be smart, why was he so stupid, why couldn't he do something as simple as fucking reading ?

Sydney had noticed his stress and momentarily pushed hers down to look at him with concern. He told her he was fine, shit was just stressing him out, and she didn't accept that, because of course she didn't. She knew he had been “way too fucking hard on himself” for a few months and she was “just kinda freaked out for him,” but she didn't get it, that it wasn’t important enough to interrupt her life with his little fuckin’ pity party. And obviously, Sydney wouldn’t let him diminish his problems like that. He was becoming acutely aware that they were practically shouting in the middle of his office, and he just wanted to get back to his work, okay?

Then Carmy snapped, “For once, please, just mind your fucking business,” and oh shit, Carmy knew he’d messed up before the words even left his mouth.

Carmy saw Sydney pull back her fist, and his head whipped up as he had a split-second to think, Oh fuck, this is it, this is when I finally get punched in the face by my best friend before he shut his eyes, waiting for the impact.

Sydney punched the back of the chair right by Carmy’s head instead, close enough to brush Carmy’s hair. Carmy heard the air hiss out of the headrest from beneath Sydney’s fist, and his breath caught in his throat, shock turning his veins cold.

Sydney grabbed the back of the chair and shoved it so that Carmy was facing towards her. She let out an animalistic scream of pure rage, shaking the chair hard with everything she had before stalking out of the restaurant, not caring about the number of eyes the crew had on her. Carmy heard the door slam on the back side of the building, empty and dark after the sunlight streaming through the windows disappeared with her.

Carmy was frozen in his chair, slightly horrified. Sydney had never gone that far before, and he knew he'd fucked up astronomically. Wiping off his palms on his pants, he noticed that his heart was pounding, and he felt a little… oh god, he was turned on. He pushed down that feeling, knowing that Sydney reacted instinctively, not to stimulate Carmy, especially not in that way. There was no way she could know that Carmy would be more than half-hard from sudden vulnerability.

Carmy thought, as he grabbed her bag that she’d stormed off without, that maybe he’d messed up big time, though. So instead of leaving it for her to reclaim tomorrow, he’d stop by at her place to return it, and... okay, he was god awful at working up the courage to apologize, and even worse at apologizing itself. But yes, he was going to apologize the moment she opened the door. Probably. 

While he was at it, he started the espresso machine to make some coffee and maybe to procrastinate doing this even more. It seemed to simultaneously steady and delight Sydney to take nice long sips of the strongest brew possible. When the espresso was done, he poured it into a thermos and held it in front of him the entire way until he was waiting at her doorstep.

“Sydney?” he called out softly, knocking at her door.

As predicted, he couldn't hear her, but he was sure she was in the room somewhere. Usually after pissing her off, it would take a day or ten before he could say something, so he knew this pretty much immediate visit would be a surprise.

The door opened.

“Syd,” he tried.

Sydney’s face was impassive.

“You left your bag,” he started again. "And– and I made coffee, if you want it." 

“Can you just leave, please?” Sydney murmured, staring at him.

Just say it, asshole. “I’m really sorry about earlier.”

She sighed and stepped aside, letting him walk in. After setting her bag down, Carmen closed the door behind him since she didn't bother to– probably as a message that he was welcome to get the fuck out any time.

“...Okay?” she shrugged. “Why are you sorry?” Sydney’s voice wasn’t loud, but her reply hung in the air of the quiet space.

“I was such a dick. I’m sorry.”

“What do you mean?” Sydney didn’t seem like she wanted to punch him anymore, but she did seem pissed, and not that ready to forgive Carmy.

“I don’t know,” Carmy murmured, standing awkwardly in front of the door. He did know. He was stressed, and he just wanted to be an asshole, okay?

“I just wanted to be an asshole. I’m really fucking sorry. I know you take your work seriously, and you’ve been having a hard time lately. We’ve been fuckin’ swamped.”

Carmy offered the coffee again. “Here, this was– this was for you. I shouldn’t have said what I did earlier. My problems aren’t an excuse to be a dick to you.”

He stood there, desperate for any response, but she just stared at him. She seemed to be almost analyzing his face until she sighed, looking at the coffee a little reluctantly.

“Look, I’m sorry too, that I lost my temper. You’re right that I've been fuckin' stressed, but that's not what I’m mad about.”

He stared at her, and she groaned like the answer was obvious. “You won’t tell me why you’ve been so distant lately.”

Carmy paused, blinking.

“Syd, I– I can't burden you with my problems. You're not my fuckin' therapist. You deserve better than that."

“You are not a burden, Carmy. I just need to know what’s happening. Just– just a few days ago, you came in clearly hungover without a word of explanation after. On a weekday , by the way. What was– Can you at least tell me about that?”

Carmy was silent for so long that Sydney looked like she almost couldn't stand it. And then because he really didn’t want to answer, he avoided eye contact and murmured, “I can– I can leave like you asked.”

She had let him in for a reason. Carmy was completely aware that nothing leaving-related was happening. Plus, being the one blocking the doorway, it was his own damn job to move. He knew it was a pathetic response as he looked back up at her face.

Sydney appeared suddenly and desperately angry, looking at him like he was being completely ridiculous. Then he saw her face twist as she stepped closer to him despite the lack of space between them, causing him to stumble back.

“Jesus, what are you–?” Carmy pushed one arm out to brace himself and she grabbed him by the wrist– not hard, but firm enough to cut him off. The full thermos fell out of his hand onto the ground, clanging loudly and rolling away, but she didn't even break eye contact. His heart raced and his face got even hotter.

“Stop. Pretending , Carmy. Fuck!”

Carmy’s jaw went tense. “Syd, you wouldn't fuckin’ get it."

“Holy shit,” she growled. “Don't you dare think I wouldn’t understand. There’s something happening and I think we need to talk.”

Carmy froze for a moment, desperate for some way to escape. Then he whirled, tugging against her grip until she was forced to either let go or hurt him. She chose the former, because she didn’t actually want to harm him, and he yanked his hand back like her touch burned, blood rushing to his face and… other places.

“What the hell,” he snapped. “I've told you before I don't have shit to talk about! Why the fuck can’t you understand that?!”

“Because you're my best fucking friend? I can't stand by and watch you go into this goddamn– this downward spiral like this without trying to do– fucking something !”

“Yeah? What if I don’t want your help?”

Suddenly she lunged at him and he was stumbling backward until his back hit the wall, where she seized him by his wrists. Her light weight wasn’t really enough to hold him down, but the idea of it sent fire racing through his veins.

They were face to face, inches apart, and even though Carmy was really mad at her right now, she was also really hot.

“I know it’s hard, okay?!” Sydney almost shouted. “But you can’t just keep acting like nothing’s wrong! It’s fucking infuriating feeling like I can’t do anything about it!”

He thought that maybe Sydney pinned him against the wall to drill her point into his head, to force him to listen, but all it did was make him more annoyed and aroused, both of which made him want to get out of here even more. Carmy grunted and ripped himself from her grasp again.

“Syd, seriously, calm the fuck down! You're making a way bigger deal out of this than it fucking needs to be.”

He stared at Sydney’s wild face, speechless. The raw beauty of her took his breath away. He glanced at Sydney’s lips, realizing with a deep jolt of fear that even though he was mad, he really wanted to kiss her right now, and suddenly she grabbed his jaw tightly in her hand and looked right into his eyes.

“What–”

“You’ve been losing weight.” She said it in a rush. “You look like you hardly sleep, more so than usual, which is fucking saying something, and– and I can tell you've even lost interest in work. In what you love. Is that not a big deal, either?”

Carmy said nothing.

She pushed his jaw out of her grasp, nearly throwing his head to the side. “Oh, fuck you. Fuck you so hard, Carmy. You know this is affecting me too. And, you know, the whole fucking restaurant . So no, you can't just keep brushing this off.”

Carmy really did not want to talk about this right now. Panicked, infuriated, and desperate to break free, Carmy wrenched his other wrist from her hold. He shouldered past her hand that was against the wall, trapping him from leaving, and before he could even get two steps away, Sydney scoffed with indignation and pounced toward him.

He didn’t know exactly what happened next. Suddenly he was pinned and they were wrestling, fighting for control, except all they were doing was getting closer to each other. He was fighting against her grip as he tugged one hand free and grabbed at her jacket, trying to shove her away, making stupid little grunts as she forced her weight on him. Fuck, she was strong for someone so thin, but he'd be able to get her off him if she stopped fucking grabbing him, and–

“Oh,” she said thickly when she felt his hardness pressing against her thigh. “Carmy–”

“Shit.” He stopped his efforts to get away, looking at her with a mix of fear and anger. “I, I didn’t mean to–”

She thrusted up one leg between his thighs, moving her whole body up just enough so that he was pressed against her cunt instead.

“Shut up,” Sydney muttered, “just shut the fuck up, I know you want this– ”

Carmy sucked in a breath so hard that it was almost a sob. “God– you, you can’t just–” He rocked his hips forward, rutting against her hard enough that the friction bordered on painful. “Fuck!”

“God, of course you like this. Fucking pissing me off for months and now I find out it gets you hard. Is this what you fucking wanted?”

Carmy had never heard Sydney talk like this before. It made color fill his cheeks. This was more exciting than he could have ever asked for. His hips stuttered and he looked at her, the light in her eyes making her look half-crazed.

“Fuck,” he said again, and before he knew what was happening, he was kissing her.

It wasn't soft and sweet like how he’d always wanted to kiss her. It was rough and frantic, almost painful, but he didn't care. It was still good, it was still Sydney, who kissed him back with equal fervor. Their teeth knocked together and Sydney's tongue was clumsy when it pushed into his mouth, but fuck, it tasted good, felt good. He got his hips moving in sync with Sydney’s, and they both moaned when they got the angle just right.

The friction built and built, and Carmy could feel himself leaking all over the inside of his underwear, the damp fabric sticking to his sensitive cock. He wondered if Sydney was feeling the same thing– wondered if there was something about the thrill that the anger and fighting created that was attractive to her. His arms moved restlessly over her back, her sides. When he grabbed her hips, Sydney inhaled and buried her face in his neck.

She moaned, muffled, and then he felt her teeth. The bite was almost too much, and he gasped at the pain– but it soon bloomed into pleasure in his lower stomach, and he quickly tapped at her shoulder when he realized he was about to come.

Sydney suddenly pulled back and forced his hips still against the wall. Carmy let out a noise that could have been a growl or a sob.

“Why are you–” he grumbled, panting and reaching to touch himself.

She slapped his wrist away and he looked at her in pure and utter betrayal.

“No. You’ve been shutting me out for way too long for you to deserve that. And you have no idea what I’d fucking do to you if you did," she said sternly, pointing right at him.

Carmy panted, staring daggers at her. He hated that this was turning him on so much when he was supposed to be mad at her. But thankfully, the fact that he was turned on made him mad at himself, and at her for being so goddamn attractive.

“Yeah, well– clearly you’re not averse to taking your frustrations out on me.”

“You’d fucking like that though, wouldn’t you?” Sydney wasted no time practically attacking him with her soft mouth and unmerciful teeth. He knew that if Sydney wasn’t holding him so firmly, his legs would have given way by now.

He breathed out between kisses and sharp bites, “So what if I would?”

"Then shut the fuck up and take it.” Her teeth dug into his lip and pulled an embarrassing whimper out of him that only made his face hotter and his frustration stronger when Sydney huffed a victorious laugh to herself.

Then Sydney grabbed him and suddenly he was being pulled by the wrist to her bed.

“What– Syd, what the fuck?!” He didn't try to get loose as she dragged him, but he made sure to writhe and make it much more difficult for her.

He kept it up as Sydney threw him onto the bed by grappling furiously with her when she tried to get on top of him – it made his own pulse thrum in his ears with the thrill, and even better, it had Sydney practically snarling like a predator above him. She soon lost his patience with his struggle and grabbed his belt, yanking his hips towards her and holding him down.

“Stay. Still. You fucking baby.”

Carmy wanted to grind against her, but he made himself try to get away again. She grabbed him by the shoulders, pulled him back like it was nothing, and continued biting and sucking at his skin.

His world was centered on Sydney’s mouth, the growing empty ache deep inside of him that yearned to be filled. He felt dizzy, hot, and vulnerable. He wanted so much to twine his hands through her hair, to cup her cheek, join their lips, savor every moment of the kiss like in the daydreams he'd never admit to anyone that he had.

But even more than that, he didn’t want this to ever stop. He wanted Sydney to use him and take him and do anything and everything to him. His mind was foggy, all the blood in his body probably flowing toward his groin.

And still, he fought. Sydney tried to bite his neck again and Carmy shouldered her off. “Get the fuck off me."

She laughed with no humor. “You fucking asked for this, Carmy.”

Maybe he did. But she was too proud of herself and too determined to make him weak with shame and arousal. And maybe he wanted to provoke her a little, to make her mad enough to show him how far she was willing to go.

He huffed out a laugh. “What, you think this is a punishment or something?”

Sydney quickly and firmly pinned his wrists above his head, leaning in close to his ear.

“You might be enjoying this now. But I’m not even close to done with you yet. You’re not leaving here without a limp and a bruise on your stomach from how deep I’ll fuck you.”

“...What?” Carmy croaked, feeling something warm in his lower stomach. “You– you want–”

She paused. “We good?”

Holy fuck. It only took five seconds of him picturing it for him to feel a strange ache, an emptiness inside himself that needed to be filled.

“Okay,” he nodded quickly. “Okay.”

She sat back on her heels, pulling Carmy up by the collar of his shirt like he wasn't worthy of the respect. Practically ripping it over his head, she roughly turned him over and pinned him on his stomach. Carmy would never admit to how his stomach flipped at the way she threw him around like this.

After a second of fumbling with his belt, his pants and underwear were yanked down to the middle of his thighs. The tight fabric restricted him as he kicked his legs, gasping as her hands began to grab his ass greedily.

She said something about the lube being in the nightstand and Carmy muttered a curse, reaching out a hand to rummage through the top drawer and fling the bottle behind him. He thought it would be good payback if it hit Sydney on her chest or collarbone as she was distracted kneading his ass, but he heard her catch it one-handed. Of course she had to show him up.

There was some fumbling, and then a click, and something cold and wet dribbled on his ass. He flinched at the feeling, gasping when it was followed by warm fingers rubbing the slickness all over.

No one had ever touched him like this, and it was a fucking weird feeling. He was going from never having a finger up there to getting fucked in one night, and somehow he was okay with that. More than okay with it. What the fuck.

But yes, he was also slightly terrified, and Sydney could probably tell that there was no way he had ever done this before. 

She held his hip down with one hand, leaning her weight onto him like he would try to get away, which pissed him off; he wasn't a fucking toddler. Pressing her finger forward, nothing happened at first, then suddenly it was just– sliding in, inch by inch, the lube helping her move smoothly. 

He let out a choked moan at the stretch and fueled the discomfort into his anger, and it was so easy to let it intoxicate him again. He didn’t even remember what they were fighting about exactly, but the adrenaline the anger gave him was such a thrill that he allowed it to stay. It made him feel wild, the way she was fighting his resistance and how as much as he could pretend he didn't like it, his cock leaked more with each moment.

Sydney wasn't saying something annoying for once and Carmy didn't know what the fuck she was thinking back there. While she pinned him down, she was constantly looking up at him, checking for signs to stop, but Carmy was too focused on holding back sounds that would haunt him at night to notice. 

When her finger was in all the way, she pulled it out slowly and pushed back in, repeating the action several times, and okay, that was definitely good, the feeling of it filling him so smoothly and suddenly. He liked the movement and friction inside him. Carmy had a horrible realization that he was basically getting fingerfucked and enjoying it.

Carmy felt a strange dissatisfaction when he pulled her finger out all the way, but he stilled when she replaced it with two. She pushed them in, thrusting them quickly but shallowly, and fuck, two fingers felt a lot bigger than one. Carmy bit his bottom lip hard, struggling not to give her the satisfaction of hearing him moan.

“Jesus, stop fucking squirming ,” she growled, tightening her grasp on his hip. 

“Am I–” Carmy panted, “What, am I supposed to be a dead fish?”

“It'd make you a lot less annoying. Now quit it.” 

That was pretty hard when she was moving her fingers around like she was looking for paperclips in the floorboards. 

“How am I supposed to do that when you're– Jesus , are you trying to do fuckin’ sign language in there? Watch where you’re– oh, fuck–!”

Carmy moaned into the sheets as the pleasure faded away. That was such an intense sensation, it had made his back arch and his hips roll forward like a complete idiot. 

“Right there, yeah? It's good, isn't it?” Sydney’s voice was smug.

“What,” he panted, “what the fuck.”

Carmy hadn't meant to make noises like that, and it just made another wave of shame wash over him, with a sound that was more from cringing than pleasure now. 

As he got more used to it, Carmy realized that her fingers were moving way too gently for how hard she was pinning him down. He exhaled amusedly. It was funny how mad she was acting when she obviously still cared about his comfort. 

Through his choked-off breaths, he pushed out a few taunting words. “‘Sthat all?.”

Carmen could almost hear her eyes roll as she sighed and began to fuck her fingers into him, hard, and he realized he'd fucked up. He gasped loudly and tried to scramble away from the force of the thrusts, but Sydney chased him, tightening a hand on the back of his neck to hold him down. She sped up into a series of cruel jabs aimed directly at his prostate, and Carmy gasped from deep in his chest, curling in on himself as his moans increased in pitch and maybe fear, signaling an oncoming orgasm.

Sydney huffed a laugh and yanked her fingers out of him, making him whimper. “Were you seriously about to come just from that? I knew you were easy, but…”

Anger flared through the haze of pleasure in Carmy’s mind. His limbs felt weak, but he used the adrenaline to sit up and get close to her face.

“Nothing about me,” he hissed, “is fucking. Easy.”

She squinted at him with scorn, like he was trying to act cool and failing. “Shut up.”

And because Carmy was an idiot, he said, “Yeah? Fuckin' make me.”

She swallowed his pride with her mouth, greedily licking into him and muffling his attempts to speak. After a time of this, his lips seemed to give in, and Sydney bit into them, pleased.

It didn’t last long, though. One of her hands was gliding up his chest, finding its place loosely below his chin to control the movements of his jaw.

She broke from the kiss briefly to look at him. “This what you meant?”

Carmy grunted, moving his head to get free while still wanting to connect their lips again, and her hand traveled down to his throat and tightened . His jaw fell slack and he couldn’t breathe – everything centered on that strong hand choking him, her nails digging into his skin, Sydney’s eyes piercing his– and then it released. He collapsed into Sydney’s chest as he coughed, shame filling him at how close he’d been to coming again, just from that.

He opened his mouth, ready to speak, to beg for Sydney to come back, but before he could say anything, she was already there. Pressing up close behind him, Sydney wrapped a hand over Carmy's mouth as she leaned in close to his ear.

“You’re mine now, got it? You’re mine, and I can hurt you all I want. I can do whatever I want to you, and I wanna fuck you now. Okay?”

Carmy was breathing heavily through his nose. He whimpered in the back of his throat, the sound muffled against Sydney's palm. Eventually, he gave in and nodded in humiliation.

She shucked off her clothes, which had been on for way too long compared to how long he'd been naked, and grabbed the strap-on from the drawer. He didn't want to know why she had that, and like most things, decided to not think about it.

“What do you think? Might be bigger than a couple of fingers, yeah?” Sydney panted, displaying the cock to him as she hurried eagerly into the straps, pulling them tight around her hips.

Carmy tore his eyes away and hid the flutter in his stomach by clearing his throat and getting up on his knees. The thing wasn’t gigantic, but it was still fucking intimidating. Could he even fit that much?

"'Kay. Get on me, then," she said, sitting back.

He didn't know what the fuck she meant until she sighed and pulled him onto her lap, and the realization made his stomach drop. Maybe she was being nice by letting him control the pace, but he fucking hated having no clue of what to do. Carmy liked taking instruction, knowing exactly what the other wanted, but with this, he had to present his attempt to be attractive and hope desperately that Syd liked it, and it was nerve-racking. 

He almost wanted to ask Syd to flip them over and let her do what she wanted. It didn’t matter if it was too hard, he’d take it as long as it made her satisfied. But he was interrupted when he felt the head against him, making his dick leak onto Sydney's lower stomach, which was mortifying. Seeing his chest rise and fall quickly, Sydney’s hands slid to his hips as he thought fuck it, positioned himself, and slowly lowered down on her cock with a barely contained moan.

Carmy's eyes widened at the feeling of Sydney breaching him. He noticed that Sydney had added some lube, but the stretch was still rough. Carmy panted sharply into the warmth of her shoulder as he slowly bottomed out, taking a second just to let the feeling of being stretched open settle in. He could feel Sydney’s smugness without lifting his head.

“Shut it,” he grumbled hoarsely.

Sydney laughed. “I wasn’t doing–”

“I said shut up .”

Carmy interrupted her next quip with a groan as he slowly began to move, hoping the way he rolled his hips would be enough to wipe that arrogance from her voice.

Somehow Carmy was still committed to the anger. He didn’t even remember what they were fighting about exactly, but the adrenaline, the crazed feeling it gave him was such a thrill that he forced it to stay.  It was like he couldn’t admit he enjoyed it, like this was only a transaction for him, because Carmy thought about how proud of herself Sydney would be if she broke his mask, broke him by fucking him into the submissive Carmy who would beg and whine and apologize. He couldn't let her see that. 

He lost his derailing train of thought in the pleasure and heat blooming in his stomach, where each slide deep into his insides sparked up deliciously. The size of the cock made her drag across his sweet spot on every glide, and Carmy was having trouble staying quiet. Luckily, it didn’t seem as if he was the only one affected. Sydney was holding back choked-out moans as she watched him, clearly enjoying the view as she breathlessly thrust her hips up toward him. 

Carmy hid his smirk, though he couldn’t really move any better when his pants were still keeping his ankles constricted. 

“My fuckin’…” he began, but Sydney was already tightening her hold on his hips.

“Got it.”

She grabbed his hips and threw him back on the bed. He was too shocked to resist, but he gasped shakily when after removing his pants entirely, she returned to put her hands on the bare inside of his thighs and shove them apart.

There was a second where they both just stared at one another, blue, feverish eyes meeting dark, glazed-over ones. Carmy’s cheeks heated up and he looped his legs around Sydney's waist, pulling her closer. She cleared her throat and broke eye contact to hold herself at the base, rubbing the slick head back and forth over his twitching hole.

Carmy inhaled shakily when she showed how much deeper she could reach in this position. Sydney pulled another gasp from him when he felt how it also gave her better control over her thrusts, angling her tip to push against his prostate more accurately. Each direct hit had his back arching, his mouth falling open. 

The smirk on her stupid pretty face made his jaw clench and brow furrow as her thrusts increased in force. 

Carmy’s eyes squeezed shut. “Jesus, you're gonna fuckin’ break me.” 

“You seriously want me to be gentle?”

He paused, looking up at her and breathing heavily, before he shook his head ashamedly.

She continued thrusting hard inside him and the bursts of pleasure washed over his body, making him grunt. That was fine. Probably. Growls or grunts were low and angry sounding. They could be noises of discomfort or annoyance; it didn’t necessarily mean he was enjoying it. 

… Jesus, he was fucking reaching.

Sydney picked up her speed and he held back his moans, but every once in a while, a groan or a hiss or a choked-off sound would come out of him. He cursed himself when Sydney smiled at his voice and got even madder at her for being so annoyingly proud, and himself for liking it so much– but she stayed quiet. She didn’t need to tease him now. All she had to do to prove her point was angle her cock a certain way, drive her cock into him over and over, and Carmy would become a mess.

On an especially precise hit to his prostate, a more high-pitched sound came out of him. His plan was falling apart quickly. Again, and an embarrassing “ahh” fell from his mouth without him even thinking about it. His hand flew to his face and he squeezed his fist in front of his mouth, but even then he let out muffled whimpers that just made him feel even more humiliated.

One of Sydney’s hands was at the back of his neck, steadying him, and Carmy moved it around to his throat, pleading with his eyes. Sydney understood and squeezed tightly for a couple of thrusts, before relaxing and repeating the pattern. Carmy felt himself getting whiny; weak in Sydney’s arms, he covered his whole face with his hands now and smothered his whimpers as the shield of anger slowly cracked open and he got close to orgasm. 

Sydney’s rhythm slowed down slightly as she did something gentle for the first time so far– she guided his hands away from his face. He looked up at her, confused.

“I told you to stop pretending.” Her voice was stern, but there was just enough softness that it did something strange to his chest. 

The whole thing felt surprisingly intimate, but in a raw, sore way – an open wound of emotions. Carmy felt his eyes sting as pressure built up in his abdomen.

“God,” he panted. “ A-ah , I hate you, hate that you make me so–”

“You too,” Her hands tightened; one on his hip, another in his hair. “I hate you too. So. Fucking. Much.”

And because Sydney said them, those were the words that drove him over the edge, whiting out his vision as he arched his back and gasped sharply. His body clenched as she gave the last few rolls of her hips. She shushed him as he whined through the overstimulation and dug his nails into her shoulders until she finally slowed down and fell onto her back by his side, loosening the straps and kicking them off lazily.

They were silent as they both came down from their high, their chests rising and falling, their breaths balancing out. Carmy felt weird and he wasn’t sure why.

“Are you crying…?”

Sydney’s voice was almost a shock in the quiet, and Carmy hid his damp face.

“No,” he whispered, and immediately sobbed.

It wasn’t the best for his pride, but he thought that this felt like a good kind of cry, cathartic and clean and calming. Tears were running down his mouth, and he tried to wipe it on his bare arm. He stayed on his back as Sydney reached across to bring him a couple of tissues from the nightstand. 

He was sorry for everything he’d done to Sydney, all the things he had no idea meant so much to her, so, so sorry. He was happy that Sydney did this for him, so she could have this, so that Carmy could have this. 

Sydney wiped the tears from his eyes. She kissed Carmy gently, once, twice, on both eyes and down his face.  

The rims of Sydney’s eyes looked red as if she had been crying too. She gave him a tight hug, allowing Carmy to bury his nose in her hair, wrap his arms around her, and seek the comfort and joy he needed.

“Good job,” she said quietly. “Thank you.” 

Carmy’s heart suddenly felt like it was spilling into his chest with love and trust. Sydney was so generous, Carmy thought, so forgiving. She was taking care of Carmy even now, so carefully, even after she’d told him all those things about him that pissed her off, even after he treated her like shit. Even after he acted like a complete douchebag.

“I don’t think I deserve this right now,” Carmy admitted. “I’m so fuckin' sorry for hiding from you. I always feel like you’re too good for me, and I thought if I showed you how messed up I was, you'd get freaked out and quit, and–”

“No, no, it’s alright.” Sydney sounded a little alarmed again, but Carmy couldn’t see her face. She rubbed comforting circles on Carmy’s back, the way they did on their own chests with their fists.

“We’ll talk about that stuff later. We’ll work through it, Carmy, okay? You did so, so good. I’m proud of you.”

Carmy pulled away, but they kept their hands on each other’s sides. He said nothing, and simply looked at her, breathing out a little laugh through his nose. He swallowed. Somehow this gaze felt even heavier than the hate-filled stares he’d received tonight. His hand found its way on the nape of her neck and pulled her in for a light kiss. It was lips on lips and nothing else, but it made his heart swell up and spill into his chest.

"I– I don't want this to be a one-time thing," he blurted when they pulled away. "Or just a sex thing."

"Yeah. This wasn't, like, a weird, heat of the moment type... Well, it kinda was, but– I like you, so." Just like that, Awkward Sydney was back. He had no idea where that confidence had come from, but he wanted to see it more often. 

"That's one way to describe whatever the hell that was. Fuckin' sadist," Carmy accused good-naturedly.

"Fuck." She hid her grin in her hands, then slid them down her face. "Look, I promise not to punch you, if you promise to tell me what’s bothering you when you’re stressed. Or sad, or– whatever.”

“Sure, yeah. Deal. I'll try, at least."

He felt warm and sleepy and drunk, even though he hadn’t had any alcohol, and he was going to blame the next words out of his mouth on that, he thought.

“It was kind of hot though,” Carmy muttered under his breath, the way he sometimes did, half to himself.

Sydney definitely caught it. “What?” She said, eyes wide.

Carmy was a little afraid to meet Sydney’s gaze.

“Like, I don’t know, sometimes you get this look in your eye, you know, like you could murder me– and, and maybe it’s from being in that chaotic hellhole of a kitchen all the time, you know how I like the adrenaline–“ Carmy tried to backtrack, tried to justify it as he did sometimes.

Sydney’s expression changed ever so slightly, eyes half-lidded and smirking. “No, I don’t think so."

She knew him well, Carmy thought, way too fucking well.

Carmen didn’t always get called out on his bluff, but Sydney had found a weak spot. Sydney was always sure to find it. Usually, she guarded Carmy’s weak spots from other people and carefully avoided them herself. But in this case, Sydney’s eyes were dark and seemed to pin him to the spot.

“So... tell me what you liked, then,” Sydney said quietly, the command hanging in the air.

A million things flashed through Carmy’s mind that he wasn't sure if he should say, but fuck it. There wasn't much reason to hide from her anymore. 

“I liked it when you lost control and almost hit me.” He was almost afraid to admit it out loud. “And when you– when you held me in that chair and I couldn’t move and get away from you. I didn’t know what the fuck you were going to do.”

If Carmy started off softly, he ended in a whisper. “I wish you could– I kinda wish you'd hold me down and really hit me.”

Sydney’s eyes glittered. Carmy was so fucked.