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Izzy speaking to the maitre’d is the first time Ed hears his voice in three days, his response to the question of their reservations with, “Yes, Hands, table for two,” nearly making Ed jump. The last time he’d heard Izzy speak, he wasn’t so much speaking as shouting, loud enough to match his own raised voice until Izzy finally walked off into the guest bedroom and slammed the door behind him, putting an end to the argument. It certainly wasn’t the first time they’d screamed and shouted and gone silent over any given topic, but it has been happening more and more lately, and each time feels like it is getting closer to being their last.
Two weeks ago, Ed had asked if Izzy had wanted to check out the new place that had opened downtown for their next date night, and Izzy agreed and made the reservation. The bright post-it on the calendar on the fridge reading “Dinner out @ 7:30” was still in place this morning, so Ed refreshed his curls and put on a respectable shirt and pair of pants after work, and wasn’t too surprised to see Izzy had done the same as they met in the entry hall at 7 and went out to the car together as if it were a completely normal evening out save for the silence between them.
The pair are led to their seats and still neither Izzy nor Ed say a word to each other. They both murmur polite greetings to the waiter. Izzy orders himself an old fashioned with whatever whiskey the waiter recommends, and Ed wishes he could do the same but he’s driving tonight so he only gets water. As they look at their menus, Ed wishes he could find it in him to ask what Izzy is having, tell him he’s thinking about getting the salmon but he isn’t sure how much he’ll like the asparagus side, so he might get the chicken with the roasted potatoes instead, but he doesn’t know what will come out if he starts speaking except that it won’t be an apology. Izzy doesn’t look like he’s about to say he’s sorry either, so the table stays quiet.
Ed goes for the salmon, and finds he was right to be hesitant about the asparagus. Izzy, predictably, gets steak frites. On a good night, Ed would’ve stolen fries off Izzy’s plate until Izzy sighed with fond annoyance and offered to trade for Ed’s asparagus, but tonight, Izzy doesn’t even acknowledge Ed’s look of longing directed at the potatoes. With the lack of conversation to distract them, they both finish quickly, and decline dessert. That’s the first thing that gets a reaction out of Izzy, his eyebrows raising briefly, but he still doesn’t say anything to Ed.
The silence continues as Ed pays the bill and Izzy leaves the cash tip, and they walk back out to the car without a word to each other. The sound of the engine turning over fills the space between them as Ed starts the car and gets them on the road toward home, and Ed clears his mind of everything but the road in front of him until he feels a tug at his pants zipper. That nearly makes him say something, but when he glances over Izzy, there’s a look in Izzy’s eyes that he can’t quite read that keeps him from making a sound. It isn’t an apology, but it is something desperate, whatever it is, and Ed nods in response to it.
Izzy finishes tugging Ed’s zipper down and reaches in to wrap his hand around Ed’s soft length. Ed’s attention turns back to the road even as blood begins to flow into his cock. They’re both practiced at this, know exactly what the other likes, what is too much for whoever is driving, what reactions get whoever is giving stop or let up when things are becoming too much, the routes to take toward home that take long enough they don’t have to rush and that are relatively clear of traffic. It could almost be considered routine but it still gets them both going, and it isn’t long until Ed is fully hard in Izzy’s hand, and Izzy frees Ed’s cock, barely giving the air in the car time enough to hit it before his mouth is on it.
For all Ed has hesitated this evening, he doesn’t hesitate to bury his hand in Izzy’s hair, gripping it tightly as Izzy starts off intense, like he’ll die if he doesn’t take in as much of Ed as possible. The silence between them is finally broken as Ed fails to choke back a moan as Izzy buries his nose into the neatly trimmed hair at the base of Ed’s cock and sucks hard until his body forces him back with a gasp. That’s when Ed hears the hitch in Izzy’s breath and he knows that Izzy if he could see Izzy’s face, it would be wet with tears. Ed’s mind rockets back to a fight, one they had a few years back, one where they weren’t giving each other the silent treatment, still spitting out little hurts before things settled, when Izzy initiated a hook up in the middle of it, claiming that Ed would go elsewhere if they kept it up long enough, and even when things were bad, Izzy still wanted him home.
As much as Ed would hate to admit it, hate himself for it, Izzy wasn’t wrong, still isn’t wrong. It wouldn’t be intentional, going to someone else because Izzy wouldn’t put out, sleeping with someone to lash out and hurt Izzy, but when their home filled with tension that could be cut with a knife and no sign of it breaking, Ed found himself seeking distraction, something new and different that made him feel like living and a someone else’s bed too often fit the bill. Izzy’s desperation to keep Ed his could be felt in every swallow around Ed’s cock and every shuddering gulp of air he barely allowed himself.
Ed has half a mind to pull Izzy off of him and up into a kiss, tell him he that he isn’t going anywhere, that he wants to be home with Izzy as much as Izzy wants him there, but Izzy resists when he tugs at the short hair he has in his grip, so he doesn’t try to fight it, letting Izzy take him as he wishes. More sounds of pleasure fall from Ed’s lips and fill the car, a distinct hitch catching the edge of more than a few of them as tears well in Ed’s eyes to match the ones he knows are in Izzy’s. A rumble reverberates through the vehicle as Ed takes a turn a little wide, and he can’t hold back anymore then, scratching at Izzy’s scalp as he finishes with a whine and little warning.
Izzy swallows Ed’s release as eagerly as he earned it, continuing to work him until Ed tries to tug him away again, and this time Izzy comes easily, sitting back up and not allowing himself to glance at his husband. Ed doesn’t look his way either, both of them giving the other the dignity to dry their eyes before they are perceived.
They’re nearly home, so Ed keeps his eyes on the road for the rest of the drive, and even now, neither him nor Izzy say anything. He doesn’t know what he could say as he pulls into the driveway and takes his keys out of the ignition, just taking enough time to tuck himself back into his pants before following Izzy into the house. The guest bathroom door is closed when Ed enters, Izzy having taken use of it rather than heading into the master bath. Something in Ed’s heart sinks at that, but he’s tired and opts to get ready for bed himself rather than do anything rash.
By the time Ed has put his hair up in a bun and brushed his teeth, Izzy has changed into fresh pajamas and settled in their bed as if it were any other night where they hadn’t spent the day in stony silence. The way a weight lifts from Ed’s shoulders is visible even in the dim light filtering in through the window, and Izzy echos it as he relaxes into bed as Ed strips down to his boxers and joins him.
As soon as he’s under the blankets, Ed reaches out for Izzy, settles himself close so he can sling a limb over the other man, and smiles to himself as Izzy doesn’t protest the contact. They still haven’t resolved anything, haven’t said a word to each other, but they want to be near to one another and for now, that is enough. Words can wait until morning.