just_1_word | 1.8 Home
1.8. Home
Idle. It wasn’t a concept Remy was familiar with and never thought he’d have to be. Now he was facing what felt like solitary confinement for an indefinite period of time and it was dragging him down quicker than a body in a lake with a brick tied to it. He was home, which was a plus in the whole depressing situation, but he was still having trouble thinking of the new Upper East Side apartment as ‘home’. He’d lived at Xavier’s for some time, and it was probably where he had remained in one place for the longest in his whole life. Still, the school had never felt like home to him, but more just a place to sleep between missions while he spent random nights in any faceless women’s beds. Now he had this large apartment that was big enough to give him freedom within his own space, and he still couldn’t shake the feeling like he was trapped now.
He watched the illuminated numbers turn over on the bedside clock for a few minutes and then his eyes turned to the wheelchair sitting a short distance away. He had to purse his lips and look away so the want to burst into tears of frustration and anger didn’t engulf him again. Sure, he was ‘home’, but he was stuck in bed. When he wasn’t stuck in bed, he was allowed up to use the bathroom or lie on the sofa for short periods of time, all of which he needed assistance with. Hank had been firm in insistence that bed was the best place for Remy for at least another week, and after that, it would be a gradual progression to try and get him back on his feet. As it was, it was too soon to see if Remy had retained the use of his legs. That would come when he got his strength back, but right now, he was completely and utterly reliant on Maddy and Flynn…
… and he hated every single moment of it.
The days were just bleeding in to each other and Remy was sleeping no less than twelve to fifteen hours a day, and those were the good days. The shooting had sucked the life out of him and suddenly Flynn’s Dracula nickname felt fitting because Remy’s room, although large and airy, felt as restricting to him as a casket. He put his hand up slowly to run it through his messy hair, and even that small movement tugged on the injured flesh in his back. He didn’t know if he could do this. At the moment it was essential, but that didn’t mean it was right. He seemed to have caused this rift between Maddy and Flynn, and now they were forced to care for him like this. Flynn had cut his work schedule by more than half and Maddy had even taken less days at the club. They had to do everything for him. Everything and Remy couldn’t shake this discontent nausea in his stomach every time he had to ask for help. Maybe sleeping was his way of escaping? All Remy knew was that when he was awake, he spent the whole time wishing he could find a way out of the nightmare.
The only warmth in the whole thing for him was that he actually got to spend time with Maddy and Flynn and he was finding that without them, he wouldn’t have gotten through this. They were giving him a reason to smile and he was seeing a glimpse of where this whole thing turned from a sexual threesome to a relationship. But he still continued to feel angry, frustrated, and just plain sad by the whole thing. He knew he needed them, and for more than just the physical. But he had to learn to want them more than he wanted everything he was used to and right now he felt more than anything that he needed to want them.
“You’re awake. I’m grabbing this window while I’ve got you conscious.”
Remy looked over to the door and found Flynn coming in carrying a tray, which he set down on the wheelchair. “I’m no hungry, mon amour,” he murmured.
Flynn smirked. “Don’t get your cute little panties in a twist, sweetness,” he said and came over to Remy’s side. “Arms.”
Remy knew the drill. He carefully put his arms around Flynn so he could be helped in to a sitting position, but Flynn didn’t make an attempt to lift him. Instead he just held Remy in a secure hug and kissed his temple. Remy was taken aback, but didn’t pull away. This was… nice. He melted in to the hug and rested his head tiredly against Flynn’s shoulder.
Flynn felt the tension ease from Remy’s muscles and smiled. “Just hold still. Trust me for a moment, okay?” Inevitably, Remy tensed again with uncertainty, but Flynn just started softly rubbing his upper back in soothing circles. “I’ve got something for you.”
“Oui?” Remy mumbled against Flynn’s shoulder. Fuck, that man did have talented hands and he was stunned to see it went beyond a sexual context. Stunned, but not enough to move and make the hands stop.
But they stopped anyway and this time, Flynn helped Remy into a slight sitting position with all the pillows bunched behind him. He kissed Remy’s forehead and sat down on the bed beside him. “I’ll massage your legs in a minute. They’ll get sore and crampy when you’re lying so much. You’re going to have to take my word on shit like this.” He reached over and picked a frame up from the food tray and handed it to Remy. “You look cute with a sunburned peeling nose.”
Remy ran his thumb over the photo in the frame and felt a faint smile on his lips. It was a picture of all three of them taken by some tourist in Hawaii right before Remy got called away. Remy was bright red all over and his nose was peeling across the tip. Maddy was in the middle, with the two men on either side. They were all laughing, Remy having just a moment before tried to escape the camera and got himself tackled to the sand by Flynn. It was one of those non-sex moments, and now, caught on camera, Remy could see just how much he wanted this and he wanted it with Flynn and Maddy.
Flynn written by strips4u. Madison James [canmakeufeel] referenced with permission. Hank not binding on any Hank muses.
Word Count | 1,074
Idle. It wasn’t a concept Remy was familiar with and never thought he’d have to be. Now he was facing what felt like solitary confinement for an indefinite period of time and it was dragging him down quicker than a body in a lake with a brick tied to it. He was home, which was a plus in the whole depressing situation, but he was still having trouble thinking of the new Upper East Side apartment as ‘home’. He’d lived at Xavier’s for some time, and it was probably where he had remained in one place for the longest in his whole life. Still, the school had never felt like home to him, but more just a place to sleep between missions while he spent random nights in any faceless women’s beds. Now he had this large apartment that was big enough to give him freedom within his own space, and he still couldn’t shake the feeling like he was trapped now.
He watched the illuminated numbers turn over on the bedside clock for a few minutes and then his eyes turned to the wheelchair sitting a short distance away. He had to purse his lips and look away so the want to burst into tears of frustration and anger didn’t engulf him again. Sure, he was ‘home’, but he was stuck in bed. When he wasn’t stuck in bed, he was allowed up to use the bathroom or lie on the sofa for short periods of time, all of which he needed assistance with. Hank had been firm in insistence that bed was the best place for Remy for at least another week, and after that, it would be a gradual progression to try and get him back on his feet. As it was, it was too soon to see if Remy had retained the use of his legs. That would come when he got his strength back, but right now, he was completely and utterly reliant on Maddy and Flynn…
… and he hated every single moment of it.
The days were just bleeding in to each other and Remy was sleeping no less than twelve to fifteen hours a day, and those were the good days. The shooting had sucked the life out of him and suddenly Flynn’s Dracula nickname felt fitting because Remy’s room, although large and airy, felt as restricting to him as a casket. He put his hand up slowly to run it through his messy hair, and even that small movement tugged on the injured flesh in his back. He didn’t know if he could do this. At the moment it was essential, but that didn’t mean it was right. He seemed to have caused this rift between Maddy and Flynn, and now they were forced to care for him like this. Flynn had cut his work schedule by more than half and Maddy had even taken less days at the club. They had to do everything for him. Everything and Remy couldn’t shake this discontent nausea in his stomach every time he had to ask for help. Maybe sleeping was his way of escaping? All Remy knew was that when he was awake, he spent the whole time wishing he could find a way out of the nightmare.
The only warmth in the whole thing for him was that he actually got to spend time with Maddy and Flynn and he was finding that without them, he wouldn’t have gotten through this. They were giving him a reason to smile and he was seeing a glimpse of where this whole thing turned from a sexual threesome to a relationship. But he still continued to feel angry, frustrated, and just plain sad by the whole thing. He knew he needed them, and for more than just the physical. But he had to learn to want them more than he wanted everything he was used to and right now he felt more than anything that he needed to want them.
“You’re awake. I’m grabbing this window while I’ve got you conscious.”
Remy looked over to the door and found Flynn coming in carrying a tray, which he set down on the wheelchair. “I’m no hungry, mon amour,” he murmured.
Flynn smirked. “Don’t get your cute little panties in a twist, sweetness,” he said and came over to Remy’s side. “Arms.”
Remy knew the drill. He carefully put his arms around Flynn so he could be helped in to a sitting position, but Flynn didn’t make an attempt to lift him. Instead he just held Remy in a secure hug and kissed his temple. Remy was taken aback, but didn’t pull away. This was… nice. He melted in to the hug and rested his head tiredly against Flynn’s shoulder.
Flynn felt the tension ease from Remy’s muscles and smiled. “Just hold still. Trust me for a moment, okay?” Inevitably, Remy tensed again with uncertainty, but Flynn just started softly rubbing his upper back in soothing circles. “I’ve got something for you.”
“Oui?” Remy mumbled against Flynn’s shoulder. Fuck, that man did have talented hands and he was stunned to see it went beyond a sexual context. Stunned, but not enough to move and make the hands stop.
But they stopped anyway and this time, Flynn helped Remy into a slight sitting position with all the pillows bunched behind him. He kissed Remy’s forehead and sat down on the bed beside him. “I’ll massage your legs in a minute. They’ll get sore and crampy when you’re lying so much. You’re going to have to take my word on shit like this.” He reached over and picked a frame up from the food tray and handed it to Remy. “You look cute with a sunburned peeling nose.”
Remy ran his thumb over the photo in the frame and felt a faint smile on his lips. It was a picture of all three of them taken by some tourist in Hawaii right before Remy got called away. Remy was bright red all over and his nose was peeling across the tip. Maddy was in the middle, with the two men on either side. They were all laughing, Remy having just a moment before tried to escape the camera and got himself tackled to the sand by Flynn. It was one of those non-sex moments, and now, caught on camera, Remy could see just how much he wanted this and he wanted it with Flynn and Maddy.
Flynn written by strips4u. Madison James [canmakeufeel] referenced with permission. Hank not binding on any Hank muses.
Word Count | 1,074