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Kevin used to be indifferent to his birthday, but that was before - before the Foxes, before Jean and Andrew and Neil.
Now he has Jeremy too, just one more person to miss while he is stuck in a Chicago hotel with all his people back home in New York.
His team won, 12 - 4, and six of those goals had been his. He should be celebrating. Not moping.
(He is definitely moping).
Jeremy is moving in with them this weekend, his lease finally up at the end of February. It’s something to look forward to - but it’s also the reason that none of Kevin’s boys could fly out for the game and stay for his birthday. They’d hired movers, but Andrew and Jean were helping too, and Neil had his own away game in Tampa.
Kevin flops on the surprisingly comfy bed at the nameless, faceless hotel chosen most likely for its proximity to the airport, and scrolls through the texts and videos his friends and family have sent him. He has birthday wishes in abundance from across the globe, and yet somehow he still feels lonely.
Kevin hovers over the one from Ichirou, sent hours earlier when Kevin was still on court. He’d read it several times, but it still made his brow furrow: I’ve sent you a birthday present. Enjoy.
It’s 9pm. If Ichirou was sending him flowers or something Kevin will have to tell him to get his money back. He’s not hopeful for a delivery this late.
Kevin drops his phone on the bed, considers jacking off just for a distraction, considers FaceTiming Jean to see how the move is going, considers seeing if he can fit in that tiny bathtub in the bathroom.
A knock comes at the door before he can settle on any of those options, a quick decisive rap. Kevin waits a minute to see if they will go away - flowers be damned, they can leave them at his door. He’s grumpy and a dozen poppies aren’t going to make him feel any better even if they are his favorite (and Ichi knows well enough to send his favorite).
The knock comes again, more insistent this time, lasting for longer. Kevin rolls his eyes and groans. He hoists himself off the bed to fling the door open and finds–
Jeremy.
Jeremy standing in his hotel hallway in the middle of nowhere outskirts of Chicago, grinning at Kevin and carrying what is undeniably Andrew’s cake carrier.
“Happy birthday!” Jeremy says, his face lit brighter than the sun.
“Oh my god,” Kevin says, gaping at him. “Oh my god, how are you here?”
Kevin pulls the carrier from Jeremy’s hand, puts it on the floor, and gathers him in his arms, sinking his face into the crook of Jeremy’s neck as Jeremy wraps his arms tightly around Kevin’s shoulders. Kevin hauls him off his feet, his face still hidden, and Jeremy laughs at him, holds him tighter.
“Can we get out of the hallway maybe?” Jeremy asks when Kevin shows no inclination of ever letting him go.
Kevin nods, and sniffs, and sets Jeremy back on his feet. Jeremy grabs the cake carrier from the floor and the backpack that Kevin is only now noticing.
“How?” Kevin asks again, once they are behind the closed door.
“Well, Neil texted and said you would be sad, even if you said you weren’t. We voted - one of us to come here, the rest to finish the move - and then Ichirou called and well...” Jeremy shrugs, smiling softly, and he starts unbuttoning his oxford shirt, revealing an intricate web of rope in a luminous shade of blue silk traversing his beautiful body.
Kevin gapes, struck dumb as Jeremy drops his shirt, and then kicks off his jeans. The ropes are perfectly wrapped and tensioned, an artful hishi karada crisscrossing his torso, his legs, his arms, bracketing his dick where it just peeks out between smooth shaven skin. Jeremy, naked and wrapped like a gift in Kevin’s hotel room.
“Ichirou did this,” Kevin breathes reverently, tucking his fingertips just under the ropes at Jeremy’s sternum.
“He says happy birthday, too,” Jeremy says, “And I have been so fucking turned on since he put these on me.”
Kevin bites his lip, immediately flooded with the visual of Ichirou’s hands on Jeremy, pressing the ropes to his skin, the intimacy of it all. “I wish I could have watched that,” he says.
“Next time,” Jeremy promises. “Are you going to kiss me or what?”
Kevin laughs and uses his grip on the ropes to pull Jeremy to him and into a kiss, sweeping his tongue in almost immediately, hungrily, half bending Jeremy over with it. Kevin feels a surge of love, is overwhelmed with it, and determined to lick and bite and kiss his love into Jeremy until he’s drowning in it, too.
“What are you up for?” Kevin manages between kisses.
“It’s your birthday, and I love you. I’m yours to do with what you wish.”
Kevin freezes, fingers still entwined in Jeremy’s ropes, his teeth on Jeremy’s bottom lip.
“Oh,” Jeremy says, pulling away to look in Kevin’s eyes, worry evident in his voice. “Is that okay?”
“Say it again,” Kevin demands hoarsely.
“Surely I’ve told you that before?”
Kevin shakes his head no. He’s pretty damn sure Jeremy has not said those words to him.
“Love,” Jeremy says reverently, pressing the word to Kevin’s mouth with soft lips. “My love,” he says with another kiss. “I love you, Kevin Day.”
“Fuck,” Kevin moans out, and in one swift move he hauls Jeremy from his feet and drops him onto the bed, crawling over him as he goes. “I love you too, you’ve got to know that. Of course it’s okay. More than okay.” Kevin kisses the words into Jeremy’s neck, his chest, works his way lower until he can haul one thigh up over his shoulder, because he might die if he doesn't get his mouth on the very heat of Jeremy right now. He plunges his tongue into Jeremy's cunt, sliding up the folds to suck his dick into his mouth, to lap at it like a dying man.
“I’ve missed this,” Kevin mumbles around lingering licks.
Jeremy laughs around a moan. "I think you were literally doing this very thing two days ago."
Kevin doesn't care, and he doubles down, losing himself in this feeling, in Jeremy. He’s so at home, lost in skin and rope and Jeremy’s hands fisted in his hair. Kevin wrecks Jeremy until Jeremy is writhing and babbling underneath him, bucking up against Kevin’s hold on his hip. Kevin doesn’t stop, refuses to stop, laving insistent licks over the head of Jeremy’s cock until Jeremy clamps his legs around Kevin’s ears, shouts his orgasm loud, his fingers clenching and pulling Kevin’s hair, delivering the best kind of sting.
Kevin doesn’t bother to wipe his mouth when he surges up, kissing Jeremy filthily, pressing the taste of Jeremy’s cunt into his mouth.
“Are we sure it isn’t my birthday?” Jeremy manages when Kevin pulls back to look at him, to drop kisses at his temple.
“Oh I am so not done enjoying my present, baby. I haven’t even unwrapped you yet.”
Kevin kisses Jeremy once more on the mouth, hard, for good measure, and stands up, stripping quickly and efficiently. His fingers itch to unravel Ichirou’s knots, to slide his tongue along Jeremy’s rope marks - they’ll be deep and red and delicious after a day of travel in these ropes.
“Wait,” Kevin says, “Did you go through security in rope?”
Jeremy grins up at him, presses his foot to Kevin’s thigh. “I flew on Ichirou’s private plane,” he says.
“Let’s never say Ichi disappoints in his gifts,” Kevin says, and he grabs Jeremy’s ankle to haul him to the edge of the bed.
Kevin takes his time, knot by knot, unwraps Jeremy with intention, kissing his way along the path of the rope until it is pooled and scattered across the floor and the foot of the bed, until Jeremy is writhing from touch, from Kevin’s attention, until Kevin’s cock is so hard he thinks he’ll die if he doesn’t bury himself in Jeremy right the fuck now.
Kevin covers his deliciously naked boyfriend, kisses him soft and languid, doesn’t let him up for air as he lines up with one hand and pushes slowly, steadily inside his still-slick warmth. Kevin bottoms out and Jeremy sighs contentedly underneath him, his knees hitched up to Kevin’s waist, his arms draped around Kevin’s shoulders.
“This want you want, my love?” Jeremy murmurs softly.
Kevin pulls out and thrusts in slow, smooth. “Yeah,” Kevin says. “Gonna make you beg.”
“Bet,” Jeremy says, his head tossed back, his throat exposed, his voice pure honey.
Kevin grins, holds him close, and fucks him. It's tender, giving no quarter or recourse, just slow, slowly, slowest, the lazy glide of his hips, Kevin's orgasm crouched in his spine, content to wait, wait, wait, building until Jeremy’s pupils are blown wide and liquid, his lips slack, his grip fierce on Kevin’s shoulders, and Kevin doesn’t stop, doesn’t speed up, just fucks and fucks and fucks until Jeremy begs him, “Kevin I’m going to - please, damnit, I can’t - this is - god you are so hot - I am - please love, please. Please!”
“Yes, baby,” Kevin says, undone by that love, by that please. He shifts up, crowds Jeremy deeper into the pillows, speeds up with long thrusts that will ruin him in the end - but Jeremy is right there with him, egging him on, clinging tight, and when Kevin feels Jeremy squeeze around him he groans, breaks in half to fuck them through entwined orgasms welling up and over and through and full and and and ...
Kevin doesn’t want to let it go, can’t let it go, will ride this wave until they perish.
Kevin thinks he’s coming forever, but that can’t be true, because somehow he finds himself draped across Jeremy, sweaty and wrung out and boneless. He thinks, maybe, he blacked out a bit. Which is fucking embarrassing, but he’s too content to care.
“Holy shit,” Jeremy says, voice wobbly, hands shaky as he pets Kevin’s sweat damp curls. “That might have been the best vaginal orgasm of my life. I-,” Jeremy pauses, hums. “That was intense.”
“God,” Kevin moans. He swears his dick ties its damndest to perk up for another round. “You can’t say shit like that.”
“Why not?”
Because my ego just inflated too big for this room, Kevin thinks. He doesn’t say that, though. Instead he kisses Jeremy senseless and says, “Is that Andrew’s carrot cake you brought me?”
Jeremy grins. Eventually they manage to move enough to eat cake, to make out with frosting covered kisses, to tease out another set of orgasms – this time with Jean on the phone whispering filthy things to them both in a deliciously decadent ramble of French and English.
In the end Kevin falls asleep on his birthday wrapped around Jeremy, naked and sated with love indelibly and reverently pressed into his skin, Jean’s words a lullaby in his ears.