Fic: Fragility
Title: Fragility
Author: interpretthis
Fandom: Invasion
Pairing: Tom/Russell
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Slash/Angst
Warnings: Bondage. Kinda. Yeah.
Summary: What does it take to make. Tom. break?
Notes: Set during 1x19’s delicious fight scene, of course.
The brakes jammed into place against the toe of Russell’s boot, jolting the truck to a stop as he threw the door open and flew out, only faintly registering Tom’s protests as he stalked around the hood. The sheriff was out and on-edge by the time Russell reached the other side. They shouted, keyed-up and tense, words flying and clashing until it was Russell’s fist flying and connecting, sending Tom against the bed of the truck like a doll. Until it was Tom’s fist in Russell’s face, Tom’s shriek of “stupid bastard”, Tom’s chest pressed into the barrel of Russell’s gun and Russell could hear it, the water rushing in his ears, see the red, red of blood pumping through his veins. Tom’s quick, low tirade reached him as if through a haze.
“Do it do it do it, c’mon Russ, do it.”
“I can’t.” He let his finger slip along the trigger, tight and poised and desperate.
“WHY NOT?”
“BECAUSE IT’S NOT LOADED!” Russell’s arm snapped back, releasing the gun, letting it clatter into the bushes, his wave of rage breaking, ebbing, sifting. He let his eyes trail to Tom, who’d taken up against the bed of the truck, bracing himself against its rim, moonlight stark in his fiercely blue eyes. Russell let his shoulders slump, rearranging his mind to form a new puzzle.
“You know…”
Tom cocked his head. Didn’t look at Russell.
“Know what?”
Russell was behind him before he had the time to expect an answer, pressing him up against the bed of the truck, the whole long, muscular length of him radiating heat. Tom’s lips curled into a smirk. He turned his head slightly, glancing at Russell over his shoulder, taking in confused, determined eyes even as he felt the other man’s lungs heave against his back.
“What’re you doing, Russell?”
No answer.
“Russell?”
“Taking control.”
He felt Russell’s large hands snake around his wrists, pulling them back to snap thin, cool handcuffs into place.
Tom scoffed.
“Very funny Russ.”
Russell drew a sharp breath, pressing in, lips hovering against Tom’s ear, setting arousal to creep through the sheriff like a virus.
“No, Tom. Not funny.”
Russell stepped back slowly, pulling Tom with him by the hips until the older man’s head rested against the rim of the truck’s bed, arms trapped behind him, cock hard in his jeans. Tom could feel Russell, tight against his thigh. Felt Russell’s deft fingers go to the clasp of his jeans, easing them down to his ankles in one sweeping motion. Drew a deep breath and let his eyes fall shut, smirking softly as the cool night air skimmed across his bare skin. He heard Russell shuck his own pants. Felt the head of his cock against his opening and groaned.
“You’re a broken man, Russ.”
Russell shoved in with a sob, Tom’s low hiss sharp in his ears. Tom could hear Russell mumbling to himself as he pulled back out, thrust in again, setting a steady rhythm. His cock throbbed between his legs, aching in the cool air, tightening with each thrust as Russell brushed his prostate again and again, hips jerking frantically, hands clutching Tom’s hips, anchoring himself to the ground.
“What are you Tom? What are you doing to me? Why can’t I break you?”
Tom drew a deep breath, letting orgasm overtake him as Russell collapsed against him, chest heaving.
“You can’t break the broken, Russ. You can’t.”
Russell’s heavy pants fanned out against Tom’s back. His eyes slipped shut against reality as he moved to press Tom into the truck, his shirt riding up, handcuffs slick and cool against the heated flesh of his abdomen. Tom gave a groan as his cock pressed into the cool metal side of the truck, Russell’s lips providing all the contrast as they snuck to his ear, hot and smooth.
“You’re all I want to break.”
-------fin-------
Author: interpretthis
Fandom: Invasion
Pairing: Tom/Russell
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Slash/Angst
Warnings: Bondage. Kinda. Yeah.
Summary: What does it take to make. Tom. break?
Notes: Set during 1x19’s delicious fight scene, of course.
The brakes jammed into place against the toe of Russell’s boot, jolting the truck to a stop as he threw the door open and flew out, only faintly registering Tom’s protests as he stalked around the hood. The sheriff was out and on-edge by the time Russell reached the other side. They shouted, keyed-up and tense, words flying and clashing until it was Russell’s fist flying and connecting, sending Tom against the bed of the truck like a doll. Until it was Tom’s fist in Russell’s face, Tom’s shriek of “stupid bastard”, Tom’s chest pressed into the barrel of Russell’s gun and Russell could hear it, the water rushing in his ears, see the red, red of blood pumping through his veins. Tom’s quick, low tirade reached him as if through a haze.
“Do it do it do it, c’mon Russ, do it.”
“I can’t.” He let his finger slip along the trigger, tight and poised and desperate.
“WHY NOT?”
“BECAUSE IT’S NOT LOADED!” Russell’s arm snapped back, releasing the gun, letting it clatter into the bushes, his wave of rage breaking, ebbing, sifting. He let his eyes trail to Tom, who’d taken up against the bed of the truck, bracing himself against its rim, moonlight stark in his fiercely blue eyes. Russell let his shoulders slump, rearranging his mind to form a new puzzle.
“You know…”
Tom cocked his head. Didn’t look at Russell.
“Know what?”
Russell was behind him before he had the time to expect an answer, pressing him up against the bed of the truck, the whole long, muscular length of him radiating heat. Tom’s lips curled into a smirk. He turned his head slightly, glancing at Russell over his shoulder, taking in confused, determined eyes even as he felt the other man’s lungs heave against his back.
“What’re you doing, Russell?”
No answer.
“Russell?”
“Taking control.”
He felt Russell’s large hands snake around his wrists, pulling them back to snap thin, cool handcuffs into place.
Tom scoffed.
“Very funny Russ.”
Russell drew a sharp breath, pressing in, lips hovering against Tom’s ear, setting arousal to creep through the sheriff like a virus.
“No, Tom. Not funny.”
Russell stepped back slowly, pulling Tom with him by the hips until the older man’s head rested against the rim of the truck’s bed, arms trapped behind him, cock hard in his jeans. Tom could feel Russell, tight against his thigh. Felt Russell’s deft fingers go to the clasp of his jeans, easing them down to his ankles in one sweeping motion. Drew a deep breath and let his eyes fall shut, smirking softly as the cool night air skimmed across his bare skin. He heard Russell shuck his own pants. Felt the head of his cock against his opening and groaned.
“You’re a broken man, Russ.”
Russell shoved in with a sob, Tom’s low hiss sharp in his ears. Tom could hear Russell mumbling to himself as he pulled back out, thrust in again, setting a steady rhythm. His cock throbbed between his legs, aching in the cool air, tightening with each thrust as Russell brushed his prostate again and again, hips jerking frantically, hands clutching Tom’s hips, anchoring himself to the ground.
“What are you Tom? What are you doing to me? Why can’t I break you?”
Tom drew a deep breath, letting orgasm overtake him as Russell collapsed against him, chest heaving.
“You can’t break the broken, Russ. You can’t.”
Russell’s heavy pants fanned out against Tom’s back. His eyes slipped shut against reality as he moved to press Tom into the truck, his shirt riding up, handcuffs slick and cool against the heated flesh of his abdomen. Tom gave a groan as his cock pressed into the cool metal side of the truck, Russell’s lips providing all the contrast as they snuck to his ear, hot and smooth.
“You’re all I want to break.”
-------fin-------