[ bob, the sentry, the void. they’re all the same thing, in the end. a tangled mess of hurts — of dark matter, weighing him down when nothing else can. a jerk of his chin, ready for the counter-strike. having said all the wrong, hurtful things to win a punch.
but of course when he wants the pain, it never comes. i do, i care, anything slash after slash where he least expects it. ]
You said enough.
[ the closest he’s come to relenting, tilting back enough that embry can breath his own air. not gonna happen again. you can have him blinking up at him when he awoke. messages that amount to we aren’t fucking, we aren’t in a relationship, we aren’t even friends. he’s somebody else’s problem. the force behind his hands eases. engineered to do harm now (to take valentina by the throat, bucky by the arm, koby by the head —) and yet still wanting. before he realises what he’s doing, he cups embry’s jaw, thumb sweeping over the taut line of it in apology. his other hand gentles over embry’s chest, trying to calm his stuttering breaths.
it’s exactly what he told koby. always saying the harshest, sharpest thing that comes to your mind isn’t any better than choking it down. sometimes it’s worse, like now, with embry’s sky eyes damp at the corners. never had a public relationship in his mouth, as if everyone here doesn’t know about ash and greer. back home, he must mean, where ash is — ]
I don’t — I don’t believe you. [ not about wanting him or doing anything for him. that’s the shit you say with your back against the wall, exactly where bob has him. ] If I ask you to stay, you’ll tell me no. [ shoulders bunching, words rushing together much the same way. ] You told me no before I could ask. You just told me off for thinking about it.
[ to play the tragic hero, albeit less convincingly by the second. maybe just in the interest of garden variety selfishness. self-preservation, at best, the animal instinct to run when faced with the horror of the void — of whatever robert reynolds has become, shifting in the light. more shadow than person. the creature who frightened him and hurt him and ruined everything. if not that night, then in this exact moment. ]
But that’s the only thing I want from you. [ a low, wounded note infiltrates his voice, traitorous as the shake in his hands. like he has any right to be upset, when embry walked in here out of sorts, out of body, out of his goddamn mind. ] I’ve never had any relationships. [ but embry already knew that. no beloved thing goes missing, the way he did. ] So if I ask you not to leave me, you can’t — you can’t let me ask, if you’re gonna say no.
[ it’s humiliating. heartbreaking. proof that embry was right about him being foolish and broken enough to line up for another hit, the kind he won’t recover from. ]
[ an automatic flinch, when bob cradles his jaw. swiftly, he brings a hand up to cup his wrist, thumb firmly over his pulse, so he won't pull away. he loosens a breath, slow, beneath the gentle press of bob's palm. you said enough. his ugly words to bucky, because everything between them has been ugly lately. assuring everyone he wouldn't go near bob again. in trying his best to put distance between them, to salvage a spiraling situation, he hadn't thought about bob waking up to read every selfish word from his mouth. ]
I only wanted to do the right thing. [ voice low, the barest waver. even with ash, with greer. with everyone. even when he walks away. ] I only ever — want to do the right thing. I did try, and — I'm sorry.
[ his eyes close, sticky, filmy, the past hour hitting him at once — the parts he can remember, anyway. the ache in bob's voice threads around his heart. ]
I had to say no. I had to stop you from asking. [ ash on his knees, ring in hand, the whole world in his eyes. his stomach twists at how much he hated him in that moment. hated him for loving him. hated that he would make him bear the pain of saying no. he opens his eyes but doesn't meet bob's gaze, staring instead at some fixed point in the water, every breath a lance in his chest. an old hurt made fresh. ] If I let you ask, I wouldn't have been able to say no. I couldn't leave you. Couldn't look you in the eye and say it. I do want you to want me, at least as much as I want you. And I'd go back into your head if it meant you would.
[ that flinch reverberates through his person. bob would pull away in apology, if not for embry’s grip at his wrist. a counterweight, tethering him here. i’d go back in your head. total insanity, water in his lungs and his brain. impossible to process despite his stuttering lashes trying to make sense of things. more of bob's words in embry's mouth: i only wanted to do the right thing. i was trying to help. i didn’t mean to make things worse.
a heartbeat of hesitation, in which he wishes he could say they put all this inside me, but the serum only enhances who you already are. his mood swings, the bursts of aggression and upset. there’s more than one reason people haven’t stuck around, beyond the riptide of his addiction. ]
Okay. [ fingers splayed at his cheek, squeezing his shoulder. anything to hold embry together, when he’s so close to rattling apart. because of you. another way in which they’re the same, bleeding out and contagious. ] Okay, Embry, I believe you. I don’t want you back in there, man — just. Right here. It’s okay.
[ he pulls against embry’s hold in service of a higher calling, both hands on his waist. waits for a brief moment, for embry to realise what he’s going to do, maybe even to look at him or protest, before bob lifts him up and onto the pool’s edge. of course, his plan to fetch the towel and finally do what he should have when embry sputtered back to life is derailed by the view from below. bob lingers there, with embry in hand, at home in the v of his legs, to confess — ]
I lied, when I said that’s all. [ all he wanted, when he's hoarse with need. ] Please let me be something good for you tonight. [ the obverse of what he said to embry, when the cracks started showing in his room. i’m not good for anyone. ] I know I’ve been an asshole, but please let me help.
[ they take turns bleeding out, trading hurts. even now, embry wants to beg him to let him go, to not go down this path again when they know exactly where it'll lead. for all he's tried to convince himself that he's been in control, that he's had bob under his thumb this entire time, it's never been less true. one touch and he's gone again, his stupid, useless heart drawn back in, desperately wanting to protect him. bob. the guy who can turn him inside out. who accidentally took a plow to his most private memories and left him so raw that a breeze hurts. who lifts him like he weighs nothing to finally take him out of the water.
his heart skips, stutters. hands automatically skimming bob's shoulders as he nestles between his legs. say no. fuck no. this isn't what he said he'd ask for, not even fucking close. bob and his warmth and the openness in his wide eyes that never hide anything, not his sadness, not his need. staring up at him. asking. embry's heart feels like it's trying to crawl out of his throat now. ]
You are an asshole. [ he cradles his face in both hands, just as much to keep himself steady as it is to be close to him. ] I guess you can just blame the other guy, though.
[ you can't help me. it's on the tip of his tongue. he draws bob in closer, closer, and he can't stop it because he can't hurt him again, not even to protect him. guilt and disgust knot in him at the thought of putting that wounded look back in his eyes. at his choices. you're just a coward taking the easy way out when you know it isn't right. ]
You're always good, Bobby. [ he kisses him, and it's like tasting the sun, warmth flooding all his cold and lonely places. mouth soft and wet, need scraping against need. and when you hurt him again? he kisses him harder, his thighs tightening around him, a hand sliding down to his throat, his shoulders, the planes of his chest. an ied in human form. he could hurt you too. badly. again. then who's to blame? he hoists bob out of the pool, water spilling across the dark, slick marble, embry's back hitting the floor as he pulls bob on top of him, kiss turned ravenous. teeth and tongue against bob's soft mouth, his fingers tangled in the damp mess of his hair. ]
None of what happened changed that. [ not the void, or anything that came after. ] You're still good. You're always good.
[ he’s not trying for anything more than comfort, bob tells himself, than care. he puts his hands on bare skin, fingers splaying to cover the space between one rib and another. so vulnerable there, everywhere, open to invasion. one wrong thought, a pulse of his power, and embry will be ruined again. let go. he puts his hands in the space between embry’s legs, pushing himself up as embry cradles his face. nowhere else to go, called forward by the softness at the corners of embry’s red eyes. mesmerised by the lull of his voice.
you’re always good. he’s a goner — is what he is. his mouth parts on a soft sound, too easy. he goes with embry’s momentum like he doesn’t have a choice, like he isn’t immovable and unbreakable and all fucking powerful. he puts his hands — everywhere. palms dragging up and down his sides. half on top of him, chests slick and legs tangled. you’re still good. you’re always good is enough to make him shudder, no matter how untrue it is. embry makes it feel true.
(when he was most right at the end of their disastrous night together. all of him, no other guy to blame. three parts that compose a whole. all of whom want embry, to be sure.)
bob kisses him until he can’t taste the water any longer. until maybe he forgets drowning there and in his memories. like he has to prove how good he can be. ]
This isn’t how I meant it. [ something good. a clarification murmured against his mouth, half-hearted. hitched up on his elbow, weight on his side. he drags embry’s soaked pants lower, over his hips, down his thighs. a preamble to getting a hand on his cock before embry can pull into the lead. ] I wanted to walk you to your room. Put you to bed. [ with his leg hooked over embry’s knee, his body pressed to embry’s side, he needs only apply the faintest pressure to have him pinned. ] But you did say I could have anything.
[ instructive, almost, as he strokes embry root to tip and noses below his ear, where his damp hair has already begun to curl. a kiss to that sensitive stretch of skin. a squeeze at the base of his cock.
and maybe embry would usually deny him something this soft, but the bargain’s already been struck, hasn’t it? ]
You wanted to — [ eyes pressing shut, needing to reorient himself. buzzing with the energy that only comes from brushing up against death, swarming him now that he's not preoccupied with yelling at bob anymore. walk him to his room, like he can't be trusted to do that on his own (apparently true). put you to bed. it's so fucking sweet, far sweeter than he deserves after the whirlwind of ungenerous thoughts blowing through his head. ] I did say that.
[ more to himself than bob. he said it and he's been saying it and he can't fucking complain now that bob has decided to call his bluff. hard to hold any thoughts in his head between the buzzing and the heady arousal, his hips immediately rocking into bob's hand, his touch far more potent than it would be any other day. any other day he didn't walk into a pool and try to drown himself without even realizing it. ]
I wouldn't have let you leave, if you did that. I need —
[ a sharp breath, his cock twitching with every kiss bob gives him, his breath hot on his skin. he just needs, and there's no other thought after it. lost to his desires, fucking gone like he's twenty-five again. he tries to move, strains to roll over so he can grind all over bob and then come on the beautiful canvas of his body, but bob has him effortlessly pinned, not like before when his control was overwhelming, consuming, but just enough that all his decisions are cut off at the knees. which might be just as well, considering where his head is. ]
Please. I need it. [ a plaintive, obscene moan, head tilting to brush his panting mouth against bob's cheek. his cock weeps pearls of wetness along bob's fingers, his whole body trembling with need. the darkness of a carpathian forest flits behind his eyes, a starless sky. the metallic scent of blood in the air, from his own bullet wounds. ] Please, Bobby. I'll — I'll do whatever you want. You can do whatever you want to me. Just let me come. Please fucking touch me.
[ i think maybe it’ll take longer for you to do the things to me that i do to you. maybe not, when embry begs so easy. prettier than bob did on his knees at the commune, twice fucked in the head by the void and this goddamn place. all embry’s done tonight is make promises he probably has no intention of keeping, but bob likes to hear them anyway. likes him so much. too much already. bob likes him even though he knows that embry wouldn’t have let him stay. the lie just feels like the truth to him now, surely, falling from his lips in desperation. ]
I am touching you. [ quick, rough, the way bob likes to be touched, too. thumbing wetness from the crown of his cock to slick the way. straying, only briefly, to drag over his perineum. a tease that isn’t going anywhere tonight. ] You don’t have to do anything.
[ the inverse of what he said at the pound, high on ego and adrenaline. i don’t have to do anything. a vast improvement on the original line, in his opinion, with a higher purpose — embry unspooling like so much thread. anything more than this would be an advantage taken and regretted, he thinks, after the awfulness of the night.
(and bob would hate to appear on embry’s list of regrets again so soon, however inevitable his placement is.) ]
I’ll let you come. [ more earnest than commanding. bob cants his head to recapture embry’s mouth. all teeth and tongue, hungry for what he can’t keep. ] Just like this.
[ with a hand stroking through his hair and pumping his cock. with bob’s weight pinning him down, holding him steadier by increments. only easing off when embry gives that final jerk, to let him take his pleasure and release all that pent-up, rattling energy against his hip. ]
[ only cut off by bob’s mouth, which embry reaches hungrily for, teetering on the searing edge of pleasure while bob’s hand works him over, hard enough and soft enough both. like he knows him. he does know you, and all too fucking well now. so why is he still around? his breath trembles out of him, a hot pulse of pleasure, and then he’s coming so hard that he can barely make a sound, a soft keen moving raggedly up his throat. it’s like slowly shedding a weight, like something painful being sheared away. a vise easing around his lungs. his fingers close around bob’s wrist, holding tight, slowly stilling his hand as his hips rock into him and then stop. his heart flutters rapidly, nerves alight and alive.
it’s easy, so easy to get caught in this. in bob’s sweet mouth and ocean-deep eyes, the way he’d stay right here, soaked and shivering, if it meant he could keep kissing him. what’s not easy? everything else. don’t leave me isn’t easy when there’s still some ripped open part of embry’s mind that wants to run, that still thinks of the overwhelming control of the sentry and how that fits into the void. how all of it fits into bob, whose complexity is miles of broken glass, each fissure leading somewhere new and entirely unpredictable. a smile, a laugh. the hurt shining in his eyes. a vicious anger as potent as his own, only bob is both the powder keg and the match. his fingers slide down slowly, loosely twining their sticky hands. ]
Bobby. [ he releases an aching breath. doesn’t want to break this bubble, not yet, not when he wants to fist bob’s cock, wants to turn him over and fuck him right here on the wet marble floor. twice now, bob has saved his life. maybe three times, if he counts him leaving after pulling him into the void. another breath, this time tightening their hands. ] I’m going to tell Ash what happened. Greer, too. All of it. They’re not going to spread anything about you around. I just want you to know that — I’ll lie to anyone else about this, but not to them.
[ he believes in what he says, but it still feels like shit to think that he might be hurting bob with his words. that he will hurt bob, again and again, with the truth. he looks at him, his eyes a lucid blue, almost as clear as glass. ]
You know what happened between Ani and I. And I think you know her pretty well. [ the old, familiar guilt, still as sharp as a star. i know her better, he wants to say, which would be a lie, because the vivid life he remembers with her wasn’t real — and yet if it wasn’t, why does their hurt linger, festering like an infected wound? it’s the hurt that makes him speak up. ] I’m not leaving you, so don’t accuse me of trying to end this again. But I am going to tell you that you’re going to hurt Ani with this. With me. Don’t — I don’t want you to say anything. I don’t expect any kind of answer. Not now. Just know that I get it, if you need to get off the ride. Just say okay. Okay?
[ eyes imploring, his hurt a dull thing behind them. it will hurt, when he loses bob. but for right now, their hands are still entwined, and he’s still close enough to kiss — and he does, softly, deeply, with a promise behind it that he knows he can’t keep. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
but of course when he wants the pain, it never comes. i do, i care, anything slash after slash where he least expects it. ]
You said enough.
[ the closest he’s come to relenting, tilting back enough that embry can breath his own air. not gonna happen again. you can have him blinking up at him when he awoke. messages that amount to we aren’t fucking, we aren’t in a relationship, we aren’t even friends. he’s somebody else’s problem. the force behind his hands eases. engineered to do harm now (to take valentina by the throat, bucky by the arm, koby by the head —) and yet still wanting. before he realises what he’s doing, he cups embry’s jaw, thumb sweeping over the taut line of it in apology. his other hand gentles over embry’s chest, trying to calm his stuttering breaths.
it’s exactly what he told koby. always saying the harshest, sharpest thing that comes to your mind isn’t any better than choking it down. sometimes it’s worse, like now, with embry’s sky eyes damp at the corners. never had a public relationship in his mouth, as if everyone here doesn’t know about ash and greer. back home, he must mean, where ash is — ]
I don’t — I don’t believe you. [ not about wanting him or doing anything for him. that’s the shit you say with your back against the wall, exactly where bob has him. ] If I ask you to stay, you’ll tell me no. [ shoulders bunching, words rushing together much the same way. ] You told me no before I could ask. You just told me off for thinking about it.
[ to play the tragic hero, albeit less convincingly by the second. maybe just in the interest of garden variety selfishness. self-preservation, at best, the animal instinct to run when faced with the horror of the void — of whatever robert reynolds has become, shifting in the light. more shadow than person. the creature who frightened him and hurt him and ruined everything. if not that night, then in this exact moment. ]
But that’s the only thing I want from you. [ a low, wounded note infiltrates his voice, traitorous as the shake in his hands. like he has any right to be upset, when embry walked in here out of sorts, out of body, out of his goddamn mind. ] I’ve never had any relationships. [ but embry already knew that. no beloved thing goes missing, the way he did. ] So if I ask you not to leave me, you can’t — you can’t let me ask, if you’re gonna say no.
[ it’s humiliating. heartbreaking. proof that embry was right about him being foolish and broken enough to line up for another hit, the kind he won’t recover from. ]
no subject
I only wanted to do the right thing. [ voice low, the barest waver. even with ash, with greer. with everyone. even when he walks away. ] I only ever — want to do the right thing. I did try, and — I'm sorry.
[ his eyes close, sticky, filmy, the past hour hitting him at once — the parts he can remember, anyway. the ache in bob's voice threads around his heart. ]
I had to say no. I had to stop you from asking. [ ash on his knees, ring in hand, the whole world in his eyes. his stomach twists at how much he hated him in that moment. hated him for loving him. hated that he would make him bear the pain of saying no. he opens his eyes but doesn't meet bob's gaze, staring instead at some fixed point in the water, every breath a lance in his chest. an old hurt made fresh. ] If I let you ask, I wouldn't have been able to say no. I couldn't leave you. Couldn't look you in the eye and say it. I do want you to want me, at least as much as I want you. And I'd go back into your head if it meant you would.
no subject
a heartbeat of hesitation, in which he wishes he could say they put all this inside me, but the serum only enhances who you already are. his mood swings, the bursts of aggression and upset. there’s more than one reason people haven’t stuck around, beyond the riptide of his addiction. ]
Okay. [ fingers splayed at his cheek, squeezing his shoulder. anything to hold embry together, when he’s so close to rattling apart. because of you. another way in which they’re the same, bleeding out and contagious. ] Okay, Embry, I believe you. I don’t want you back in there, man — just. Right here. It’s okay.
[ he pulls against embry’s hold in service of a higher calling, both hands on his waist. waits for a brief moment, for embry to realise what he’s going to do, maybe even to look at him or protest, before bob lifts him up and onto the pool’s edge. of course, his plan to fetch the towel and finally do what he should have when embry sputtered back to life is derailed by the view from below. bob lingers there, with embry in hand, at home in the v of his legs, to confess — ]
I lied, when I said that’s all. [ all he wanted, when he's hoarse with need. ] Please let me be something good for you tonight. [ the obverse of what he said to embry, when the cracks started showing in his room. i’m not good for anyone. ] I know I’ve been an asshole, but please let me help.
no subject
his heart skips, stutters. hands automatically skimming bob's shoulders as he nestles between his legs. say no. fuck no. this isn't what he said he'd ask for, not even fucking close. bob and his warmth and the openness in his wide eyes that never hide anything, not his sadness, not his need. staring up at him. asking. embry's heart feels like it's trying to crawl out of his throat now. ]
You are an asshole. [ he cradles his face in both hands, just as much to keep himself steady as it is to be close to him. ] I guess you can just blame the other guy, though.
[ you can't help me. it's on the tip of his tongue. he draws bob in closer, closer, and he can't stop it because he can't hurt him again, not even to protect him. guilt and disgust knot in him at the thought of putting that wounded look back in his eyes. at his choices. you're just a coward taking the easy way out when you know it isn't right. ]
You're always good, Bobby. [ he kisses him, and it's like tasting the sun, warmth flooding all his cold and lonely places. mouth soft and wet, need scraping against need. and when you hurt him again? he kisses him harder, his thighs tightening around him, a hand sliding down to his throat, his shoulders, the planes of his chest. an ied in human form. he could hurt you too. badly. again. then who's to blame? he hoists bob out of the pool, water spilling across the dark, slick marble, embry's back hitting the floor as he pulls bob on top of him, kiss turned ravenous. teeth and tongue against bob's soft mouth, his fingers tangled in the damp mess of his hair. ]
None of what happened changed that. [ not the void, or anything that came after. ] You're still good. You're always good.
🔞
you’re always good. he’s a goner — is what he is. his mouth parts on a soft sound, too easy. he goes with embry’s momentum like he doesn’t have a choice, like he isn’t immovable and unbreakable and all fucking powerful. he puts his hands — everywhere. palms dragging up and down his sides. half on top of him, chests slick and legs tangled. you’re still good. you’re always good is enough to make him shudder, no matter how untrue it is. embry makes it feel true.
(when he was most right at the end of their disastrous night together. all of him, no other guy to blame. three parts that compose a whole. all of whom want embry, to be sure.)
bob kisses him until he can’t taste the water any longer. until maybe he forgets drowning there and in his memories. like he has to prove how good he can be. ]
This isn’t how I meant it. [ something good. a clarification murmured against his mouth, half-hearted. hitched up on his elbow, weight on his side. he drags embry’s soaked pants lower, over his hips, down his thighs. a preamble to getting a hand on his cock before embry can pull into the lead. ] I wanted to walk you to your room. Put you to bed. [ with his leg hooked over embry’s knee, his body pressed to embry’s side, he needs only apply the faintest pressure to have him pinned. ] But you did say I could have anything.
[ instructive, almost, as he strokes embry root to tip and noses below his ear, where his damp hair has already begun to curl. a kiss to that sensitive stretch of skin. a squeeze at the base of his cock.
and maybe embry would usually deny him something this soft, but the bargain’s already been struck, hasn’t it? ]
no subject
[ more to himself than bob. he said it and he's been saying it and he can't fucking complain now that bob has decided to call his bluff. hard to hold any thoughts in his head between the buzzing and the heady arousal, his hips immediately rocking into bob's hand, his touch far more potent than it would be any other day. any other day he didn't walk into a pool and try to drown himself without even realizing it. ]
I wouldn't have let you leave, if you did that. I need —
[ a sharp breath, his cock twitching with every kiss bob gives him, his breath hot on his skin. he just needs, and there's no other thought after it. lost to his desires, fucking gone like he's twenty-five again. he tries to move, strains to roll over so he can grind all over bob and then come on the beautiful canvas of his body, but bob has him effortlessly pinned, not like before when his control was overwhelming, consuming, but just enough that all his decisions are cut off at the knees. which might be just as well, considering where his head is. ]
Please. I need it. [ a plaintive, obscene moan, head tilting to brush his panting mouth against bob's cheek. his cock weeps pearls of wetness along bob's fingers, his whole body trembling with need. the darkness of a carpathian forest flits behind his eyes, a starless sky. the metallic scent of blood in the air, from his own bullet wounds. ] Please, Bobby. I'll — I'll do whatever you want. You can do whatever you want to me. Just let me come. Please fucking touch me.
no subject
I am touching you. [ quick, rough, the way bob likes to be touched, too. thumbing wetness from the crown of his cock to slick the way. straying, only briefly, to drag over his perineum. a tease that isn’t going anywhere tonight. ] You don’t have to do anything.
[ the inverse of what he said at the pound, high on ego and adrenaline. i don’t have to do anything. a vast improvement on the original line, in his opinion, with a higher purpose — embry unspooling like so much thread. anything more than this would be an advantage taken and regretted, he thinks, after the awfulness of the night.
(and bob would hate to appear on embry’s list of regrets again so soon, however inevitable his placement is.) ]
I’ll let you come. [ more earnest than commanding. bob cants his head to recapture embry’s mouth. all teeth and tongue, hungry for what he can’t keep. ] Just like this.
[ with a hand stroking through his hair and pumping his cock. with bob’s weight pinning him down, holding him steadier by increments. only easing off when embry gives that final jerk, to let him take his pleasure and release all that pent-up, rattling energy against his hip. ]
no subject
[ only cut off by bob’s mouth, which embry reaches hungrily for, teetering on the searing edge of pleasure while bob’s hand works him over, hard enough and soft enough both. like he knows him. he does know you, and all too fucking well now. so why is he still around? his breath trembles out of him, a hot pulse of pleasure, and then he’s coming so hard that he can barely make a sound, a soft keen moving raggedly up his throat. it’s like slowly shedding a weight, like something painful being sheared away. a vise easing around his lungs. his fingers close around bob’s wrist, holding tight, slowly stilling his hand as his hips rock into him and then stop. his heart flutters rapidly, nerves alight and alive.
it’s easy, so easy to get caught in this. in bob’s sweet mouth and ocean-deep eyes, the way he’d stay right here, soaked and shivering, if it meant he could keep kissing him. what’s not easy? everything else. don’t leave me isn’t easy when there’s still some ripped open part of embry’s mind that wants to run, that still thinks of the overwhelming control of the sentry and how that fits into the void. how all of it fits into bob, whose complexity is miles of broken glass, each fissure leading somewhere new and entirely unpredictable. a smile, a laugh. the hurt shining in his eyes. a vicious anger as potent as his own, only bob is both the powder keg and the match. his fingers slide down slowly, loosely twining their sticky hands. ]
Bobby. [ he releases an aching breath. doesn’t want to break this bubble, not yet, not when he wants to fist bob’s cock, wants to turn him over and fuck him right here on the wet marble floor. twice now, bob has saved his life. maybe three times, if he counts him leaving after pulling him into the void. another breath, this time tightening their hands. ] I’m going to tell Ash what happened. Greer, too. All of it. They’re not going to spread anything about you around. I just want you to know that — I’ll lie to anyone else about this, but not to them.
[ he believes in what he says, but it still feels like shit to think that he might be hurting bob with his words. that he will hurt bob, again and again, with the truth. he looks at him, his eyes a lucid blue, almost as clear as glass. ]
You know what happened between Ani and I. And I think you know her pretty well. [ the old, familiar guilt, still as sharp as a star. i know her better, he wants to say, which would be a lie, because the vivid life he remembers with her wasn’t real — and yet if it wasn’t, why does their hurt linger, festering like an infected wound? it’s the hurt that makes him speak up. ] I’m not leaving you, so don’t accuse me of trying to end this again. But I am going to tell you that you’re going to hurt Ani with this. With me. Don’t — I don’t want you to say anything. I don’t expect any kind of answer. Not now. Just know that I get it, if you need to get off the ride. Just say okay. Okay?
[ eyes imploring, his hurt a dull thing behind them. it will hurt, when he loses bob. but for right now, their hands are still entwined, and he’s still close enough to kiss — and he does, softly, deeply, with a promise behind it that he knows he can’t keep. ]