Title: This Night
Author: Batdz Angel (\0/)
Disclaimer: I don’t own the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen film. The quotes from the film were done by ear and this is merely a work of my own making as well as a way of honoring the characters. All paragraph titles, and the story title, are from the song "Unstoppable" by the Calling.
Rating: R for mentions of sexual situations between men.
Pairings/Characters: Tom/Dorian, canon pairings as were shown in the film
Spoilers: The movie, some of Tom Sawyer and The Picture of Dorian Gray.
Summary: AU. That is the forbidden. That is the sweetest part of it all.
-*-
part one: come and lay
The door opens.
Nothing is said between them; nothing needs to be said. Their unspoken agreement has been going on for weeks now and while both parties are feeling restless, they will not speak about it. Clothing is removed and the machinations of this are not hard.
At least, not yet.
The room is an elegant room; a mask for the reality of what this arrangement truly is. Even as they trace one another’s bodies, there is nothing but groans of pleasure and quiet, almost unnoticeable affection.
That is the forbidden.
That is the sweetest part of it all.
-*-
part two: understand me
“Have you ever done this before?”
The question surprises him; he angles his head to glance at his companion with dark, slanted eyes. The other man lays beside him, sheet draped over his hip as he blows smoke into the air. Despite the non-innocent appearance, naivety shines in his jade eyes as he looks at him. “Have you?”
He weighs his options. And he opts to answer as truthfully as he can.
“As old as I am,” he replies. “I’ve done many things that no soul will believe much less understand.”
Pale brow furrows in contemplation; he wishes to smooth it back but refrains. Finally, he says, “Did you ever care for any of them?”
“No,” he retorts swiftly, even as he thinks of a young girl with the voice of a star. “Not a one.”
The jade eyes sadden briefly but then are blank of emotion. “Oh.”
Nothing more is said.
-*-
part three: my favorite drug
The curl at the nape of his neck is driving him insane.
He sits in a theater, Mina beside him in a gown of blue that compliments her pale skin and auburn hair quite nicely. The opera is utterly pointless in his opinion but he is playing covert agent for the evening. Of course, the sight of the familiar dark head in front of him has his hands clutching the armrest tightly.
Mina curls her lip slightly at the familiar form; she doesn’t acknowledge the other man’s presence but instead clenches her jaw as he turns and greets her with a smirk. “Mrs. Harker,” he says with a voice like oil. “How wonderful to see you about town. And your companion?”
Mina narrows her eyes at him, the flash of red in the orbs makes him wince inwardly.
Later that evening, the harshness of their coupling leaves him breathless. He will have bruises on his hips and shoulders for days. He turns on his side and says, “What in the hell was that?”
His companion purses his lips. “It wasn’t anything,” he snaps. “It was what it was.”
He does not pursue it; this relationship need not become more complicated.
-*-
part four: need you
It is difficult to control his jealousy.
He knows Mina is interested; he can taste it in the back of this throat. The vampiress doesn’t know when to back off what is not hers but he doesn’t even bother to threaten with words. Her arrogance is as unappealing to him as it is to many other men...
He grits his teeth as he watches them after the opera; the way she fawns over him, the way she presses herself against him. If he had his way, covert operations wouldn’t be in existence.
He would simply act as diplomatic as possible.
He wonders if anyone will notice him spilling wine on Mina’s dress.
-*-
part five: a moment
A month passes; the League is busy and he cannot find a moment of peace or rest. At the end of it, he goes to the room and his companion takes one look at him and says, “You look dreadful.”
He hasn’t the energy to glare.
That evening, he learns of why claw foot tubs are a necessity.
He falls into a deep sleep and does not feel the slender fingers brush against his brow. Nor does he feel the quiet kiss pressed to his jaw as his companion silently muses over his presence.
-*-
part six: this is right
The League is many things; a great advancement for mankind there is no doubt. He sits in the headquarters with the others and finds his fingers tapping along the tabletop. His coworkers exchange glances at his nervous energy but he does not pay any heed. Skinner takes away the attention by cheerily telling a bawdy limerick. The results are instantaneous as Mina scowls while Jekyll gapes and Nemo reprimands the invisible thief although amusement is written in his eyes.
He hides his smile but looks down at his paper to find a sketch of dark eyes staring up at him. He does not take note of Mina’s narrowed gaze nor how her eyes flicker down to his sheet. Later she catches up to him, gripping his arm in a powerful hand.
“Be careful,” she says seriously and he blinks in confusion.
She hesitates and says, “He doesn’t allow anyone inside. This cannot end well.”
Bitterness coats her words; he pulls away from her and says curtly, “I don’t need your protection Mina. I can protect myself just fine.”
He walks away and the vampiress whispers, “I wasn’t talking of your body. I was speaking of your heart.”
-*-
part seven: or is it really wrong
He reads the paper with horrified fascination. Skinner doesn’t seem shocked at the headline about two men being hanged for...doing that. The invisible thief merely shrugs and says, “No harm in it as far as I can see but the whole world doesn’t feel that way.”
He says nothing; the word’s are trapped in his throat. All he can think to himself is what if they are caught? What would happen to him as a mortal? He wonders if his lover would even mourn.
His lover’s reaction to the headline is to raise a brow. Slender fingers pick up a glass of brandy as he sips the drink. “What do you expect me to say?”
“I don’t know,” he says feeling defeat. “I don’t know what I expected.”
His companion stares at him, dark eyes inscrutable. He sets his glass down and says quite calmly, “If you wish for me to say something trivial as it’s a horrible crime to do that, I will. If you wish for me to be dismissive about the situation, I will.”
“No,” he says even as he rises to his feet. “I don’t expect anything from you.”
“Pardon?”
“I’m leaving.”
A dark brow arches up. “Oh?”
“Yeah,” he says. “And I’m not coming back.”
A laugh. “I see.”
He leaves.
-*-
part eight: burning in my soul
He keeps his distance, even though he sees him everywhere he goes. Always with Mina at his side, always with the League surrounding him. He seethes in quiet anger and jealousy as he watches from afar. His former lover is shining, glimmering as he dances with an unknown young woman. The twit laughs at something he says and he scowls deeply.
“He is quite fetching, isn’t he?” Mina murmurs into his ear and he angles a glance at her, saying dryly, “Well, yes, if you prefer the American type.”
“I was under the impression that you did,” she says coolly. He chuckles and turns to face her fully, tracing her collarbone with a gloved finger. “Dear Mina,” he says mockingly. “Do I detect jealousy in those emerald eyes?”
“Do not touch me,” she warns her eyes flashing red. He smiles and says, “Why should I not? It is not a secret to the others what we shared.”
Her eyes narrow. “After all,” he says. “I’ve had my fill of the female flesh. You all are so demanding on a man.”
“You are a disgusting parasite!” she spits at him.
“No, my dear,” he replies pleasantly as he tips his head to her. “That would be you with the blood drinking and all.”
He thinks the look on her face is quite satisfying and so he turns to leave the ball. He stops in his tracks though as he finds his former lover standing before him, holding two glasses of red wine. Tipping his head up, he nods his head at the other man in greeting.
He leaves with a burning in his throat that feels like regret.
-*-
part nine: my heart is breaking
He doesn’t miss him.
He tells himself this every day after he leaves the room. Every moment he wakes up in his room at Jekyll’s home, every night he returns to that same room, and crawls into the empty, cold bed with a lump in his throat. He doesn’t miss him in the slightest.
Seeing him at the ball is a surprise; he isn’t prepared for it and so he throws himself into the occasion. His charm is quite popular with the women and he glows at the compliments. As he dances with a young girl, telling her about a few of his childhood adventures, a flash of gray catches his eye.
Mina is speaking with him.
That is not, he decides, a good thing.
He manages to get two drinks after finishing his dance. Weaving his way through the crowd, he comes upon them just as Mina spits out, “You are a disgusting parasite!”
His former lover merely retorts quite pleasantly, “No, my dear that would be you with the blood drinking and all.”
When he turns to leave the vampiress behind, he feels as if someone has kicked him in the stomach. And as his former lover leaves without a word, just a nod as if that would say it all, he realizes something.
He does miss the bastard after all.
-*-
part ten: you make me feel alive
When he enters his room, he is quite surprised to find his former companion sitting on the bed, hands clasped between his knees. They stare at one another in silence for a few moments before he finally says, “What are you doing here then?”
His former lover says nothing and he frowns deeply. The younger man gets to his feet and strides across the room quite suddenly. Before he knows what is happening, his mouth is being attacked by the other man’s lips and he finds his fingers slipping over clothing with familiarity.
They are both desperate for more skin; time has made the longing become a sharp pain and soon, there is nothing but groans and pants and swearing in the room. His naked flesh tingles in the air as he finds himself for a moment pausing to memorize the sight of his lover’s head thrown back, neck bared.
When it is over, his lover says nothing as he rises to his feet, broad shoulders slumping forward as he begins to dress once more.
A single word is spoken.
“Stay.”
Tom Sawyer turns to look at Dorian Gray; the immortal has propped himself up on one elbow, nude form covered with only the thin sheet from the bed. The American agent blinks at him and says dumbfounded, “What?”
A spark of amusement flickers in Dorian’s dark eyes. “Stay, Tom,” he says in a manner that is almost gentle. And then he adds, “Please?”
Tom stares at him, mouth agape. Dorian shifts, head dropping down at the silence. His fingers tangle themselves in the sheets and he looks up as Tom drops back down onto the bed beside him. His rough fingers tangle into Dorian’s here and he smiles at what he sees, jade eyes glittering.
Deep down in a part of Dorian he had thought was lost, hope blooms and takes hold.
FIN