FIC: Haunted Love
Title: Haunted Love
Author: 3988akasha
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2,300
Warnings: Angst, Murder, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH
Pairings: Miles Matheson/Sebastian "Bass" Monroe
Beta: bones_2_be
Disclaimer: I own my story. The characters in the story belong to themselves.
Summary: Sergeant Strausser does as Monroe ordered, he brings the pendant...and Miles back to Philadelphia.
Author's Note: Highlight to get a spoiler on Major Character Death MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH: CHARLIE.
Haunted Love
Bass paced the tent anxiously. He couldn't remember ever having been quite this nervous before, ever. He was the President of the Republic and made life and death decisions daily, not that he needed to think about that now. He'd been doing it all alone for a few years now, trying to maintain the order and level of success Miles Matheson had set up. He walked over to the table and snatched the scrap of paper up from the desk. He'd read it so many times he was surprised the paper hadn't disintegrated, but Sergeant Strausser had sent word. He had Miles. Miles would be here sometime today. Bass had sent riders out to keep a look out for the party, wanting to know as soon as he was here. Not that the knowledge kept his palms from sweating.
"General," his guard called, "they're here."
Bass took a calming breath and schooled his features. Miles would see through it, but there wasn't anything he could do about it. He could keep the men from noticing his nerves, from seeing how intimidated he was, but mostly, he was hiding hide how angry he was, how sad, how lonely. He'd spent the first night after hearing from Strausser imagining different scenarios, all ended with them in bed, though some ended with Miles severely maimed, before that part.
A small troop of people was marched into his room. Miles he'd expected. Charlie, Nora and the large guy, whom Neville's boy had seen with one of the pendants, were unexpected. Major Neville came in and stood next to him, the same questioning look on his face. Bass didn't have any answers, and realized he'd been waiting for Miles to say something. He glanced at Miles, who was looking right at him. It was almost like looking at a stranger. Bass couldn't read the look in his eyes and looked away.
"Sergeant Strausser, what happened? I sent you out to get my pendant and Miles," Bass asked, voice strong.
"It was the only way I could bring them to you. Miles became resistant when I went to take the pendant. I know you wanted him alive. It was easier to bring all of them."
Bass fought to keep his face from breaking out into a smile. That was the Miles he knew and lo- no, Bass forced his thoughts away from that. It would be all too easy to just fall back into what they had, to go back to before, and he couldn’t be the first one to make a move.
"Miles," Bass said, the name heavy on his tongue. They locked eyes and Bass couldn’t think of anything to say. There was too much, and words were so inadequate. If Miles felt any conflicting emotions, he wasn’t showing it. He stood, feet apart, hands behind his back, as though he didn’t have a care in the world. Bass kind of hated him for it.
"Bass," Miles replied, voice like velvet on his skin.
"I want the pendant," Bass blurted.
"Yeah, I kinda figured."
Neville approached the larger man, Bass really needed to learn the man's name, and reached to search his pockets. Charlie elbowed the man who'd been guarding her and moved to push Neville out of the way. Before he could say anything, Neville hit her across the face, sending her tumbling to the ground. Miles moved to stand between Neville and Charlie and Bass felt the situation spiraling.
"I'm going to check his pockets."
"Like you were going to bring Ben here? I don't think so," Miles growled.
Bass caught Neville's eye as he looked for further instruction. Bass shook his head and, thankfully, Neville stepped away. Bass watched Miles carefully, noticed how he'd maneuvered himself closer to the guards, closer to the weapons.
"Aaron, give me the pendant," Miles said.
Bass wasn't expecting that.
"Miles!" Charlie cried as she stood to her feet. "You can't be serious? He killed my father, he kidnapped my brother. You can't just give him the pendant. We're here to get Danny."
Bass watched Miles' face carefully, but there was this emptiness in his gaze that he couldn't read. He knew the look, it was the look Miles wore when he was going to kill someone, or had killed someone, or was going to order someone killed.
"Give me the pendant," Miles repeated as though Charlie hadn't spoken at all.
"Miles - "
"Now, Aaron." Miles held out his hand.
Aaron hesitated, looking between Charlie and Miles. Bass felt the tension in the room, saw the men shift. It seemed an eternity before Aaron reached into his pocket and pulled out the pendant. Miles snatched it out of Aaron's hand and looked at it before turning to face Bass.
"Your pendant." Miles held the pendant out to him.
Bass searched his eyes; the emptiness was gone. Bass' hand grazed Miles' as he took the pendant and he didn't imagine Miles' slight intake of breath. It pleased Bass to know that he wasn't the only one affected. He allowed himself to believe that Miles felt something, was feeling something.
"Welcome back, General Matheson," Bass said with relief.
"Sir," Neville said, voice outraged, "you can't be serious."
Bass glanced at Neville before looking back at Miles. Maybe he was dreaming. Maybe Miles wasn't back, didn't want to be back. "Miles?"
"I wouldn’t have come if I didn't plan on sticking around," Miles answered a small smile on his lips.
Neville sneered at Miles. "If you're really back then prove it."
"That promotion's really gone to your head," Miles commented as he looked at Bass.
Bass wasn't surprised Miles knew about the promotion, nor was he surprised that Miles seemed less than pleased about it.
"Miles, you can't do this," Charlie said as she gripped his arm. "This isn't you. It doesn't have to be you, not anymore. What about Danny? We're your family."
Bass watched as Miles' face closed down completely. The blank look was back and the guards took a step back. Miles reached forward, placed one hand on each side of Charlie's head and snapped her neck. She crumpled to the ground before anyone could react. Nora and Aaron were both making sounds of outrage and protest, but Bass couldn't really hear them. His entire world had narrowed to the man standing in front of him. Miles was back.
Bass moved to Miles as though on a string, grabbed his face and seared their lips together. Nothing got him hard like seeing Miles kill. He didn't remember when it had started, but every time Miles killed, Bass wanted him, needed him, craved him. Miles didn't disappoint. As soon as their lips fused, Miles hauled Bass closer to him, arms locked tight. Bass moaned into the kiss and rubbed himself shamelessly against Miles, desperate for the contact, the extra friction. Miles pulled back and Bass whimpered at the loss.
"Dismissed, Major," Miles growled.
Neither of them waited to see if the order was followed, neither of them cared. Bass groaned when Miles began to kiss his neck, it turned into a keening sound when he felt Miles begin to suck a mark, claiming him. Bass knew what came next and he wanted it more than anything in the world. Miles walked him back to the desk, Bass groaned when hitting the desk forced their hips together, the friction a tease. Bass threw his arms around Miles' neck, steadying himself as Miles lifted him onto the desk. He kissed Miles' neck as Miles leaned forward, knocking everything off the desk.
Bass felt Miles' hand close around his neck as his head was tilted back, Miles forcing his tongue in as he settled between Bass' knees. Bass couldn’t figure out what to do with his hands, they scrambled for purchased on Miles' shoulders, then Miles would rock his hips forward and Bass' hands would fall to the desk, his knuckles white with the force of his grip. Miles pulled back and Bass knew he looked as desperate as he felt when his hands chased after Miles.
When Miles began to unbutton his shirt, Bass' mouth went dry. He wanted to reach out and pull Miles to him, but he stood just out of reach. Bass watched Miles trail a finger down his torso before he reached up and played with his nipples, rolling the nubs between his fingers.
"Take off your clothes," Miles' voice was pitched low and felt like sandpaper.
Bass hated that his fingers fumbled with the buttons on his jacket and he hurried to take it off. The sleeve got caught on his wrist and he briefly wondered if removing his arm would get him naked faster. He wanted Miles to touch him, needed Miles to touch him, but he knew Miles wouldn't, not until he was naked. Bass had just managed to get his shirt all the way unbuttoned when he glanced up and saw Miles removing his trousers. He was unable to look away as Miles took himself in hand and began to stroke his cock, bringing it to full hardness. When Miles caught him looking his hand stilled. Bass shook himself and went back to removing his shirt, fairly certain he heard the material tear before he began undoing his trousers. Once he was fully naked, Bass reached for his cock and his hand had just closed around it when Miles knocked his hand away.
"No, that's mine," Miles said as he roughly worked Bass' cock. "Oil?"
"Desk."
Miles opened the top drawer and rummaged around until he found the jar of oil. Bass pouted when Miles set the jar down on the table without opening it. Miles smiled before he captured Bass' lips in a kiss, rubbing their naked cocks together. Bass couldn’t think of anything beyond the throbbing in his cock. He was needy and he knew Miles knew it. He kept seeing Miles wrap his hands around Charlie's head and snap her neck as though it were a toothpick, the image sending shivers down his spine.
"Open yourself for me," Miles whispered against his ear.
Bass blinked at him, dazed, as Miles moved back from the desk. He watched as Miles began to stroke himself again and made an unintelligible sound in the back of his throat. He blindly reached for the oil and sloppily covered his finger in lube. Bass reached down and slowly pushed his slicked finger into his hole, feeling the slight burn as his finger stretched the tight muscle. He hadn't been fucked since Miles left. He pushed his finger deeper, working it in pace with Miles, who was standing in front of him, stroking himself in long, slow movements. Bass pulled his finger out and quickly coated a second before pushing them back in. He worked his fingers in and out, stretching himself, knowing Miles was going to take him hard and fast, knowing he was going to feel it in the morning. An odd contentment settled deep inside him at the thought. He wanted to feel Miles, wanted Miles to mark him, wanted to know he was back with him. Bass' finger brushed against his prostate and he swiftly pulled his fingers out, knowing he'd come if he prepped himself anymore.
Bass watched Miles move towards him. He swallowed, but it didn't help the dryness in his throat.
"Ready for me?"
Bass couldn't speak, he just nodded. Miles' eyes were dark, hungry and Bass felt safe for the first time in years. He couldn't tear his eyes away from Miles, but couldn't keep his eyes from slamming shut as Miles pushed into him. He could tell Miles was restraining himself, pushing forward slowly. It wasn't what he wanted, wasn't what he needed. He locked his legs around Miles and pulled him closer, forcing Miles' cock in deeper. They both groaned at the increased contact. Miles kissed Bass deeply, his hips snapping more forcefully into him. Bass gripped the edge of the desk as Miles pulled back, changed the angle and thrust hard and deep into him. He heard the table scrape against the floor with the force of Miles' thrusts. Bass was close, but he felt Miles come deep inside him before he was able to come himself.
"Ssshhh," Miles whispered as he sank to his knees. "I didn't forget about you."
Bass barely had a chance to process the sight of Miles on his knees in front of him before Miles took his cock in his warm mouth. He sucked him off like he fucked, hard and fast. It was warm, wet, sloppy as Miles worked his cock in deep fast sucks. Miles took him all the way down, his nose brushing against the hairs at Bass' crotch. Bass could swear he was leaving finger shaped marks in the desk, his grip painful. He was so close to the edge, but Miles was teasing him now, licking around the head. A litany of unidentifiable curses and praises flowed from him as he floated on the sensation of Miles' mouth around him. When Miles pushed three fingers inside and took his cock all the way down, Bass couldn't keep his hips from thrusting forward as he came down Miles' throat. Miles pulled off him with a wet pop, his lips glistening with spit and come.
Bass didn't think there was anything that turned him on like Miles killing, but seeing him on his knees, face messy with spit and his come, was one of the hottest things he'd ever seen. Miles stood and took Bass' mouth in a wet, messy kiss. Bass liked the taste of Miles in his mouth and finally allowed his fingers to release their death grip on the desk. He wrapped them around Miles, who was kissing his neck.
"Welcome home," Bass whispered.
~FIN~