Post Intersect
Title: Post Intersect
Author: kaylynnkie
Disclaimer: Not mine
Pairing: Chuck/Casey
Summary: When Chuck loses the Intersect, he's too angry and frustrated to notice that Casey hadn't left yet. Lots of porn.
Word Count: ~5,000
Warnings/Rating: NC-17, some angst, D/s elements, spanking and a spider gag
Notes: Written for daria234 's prompt over at ; “ 4. Someone becomes a normal human (superhero, angel, Intersect, whatever) and hates it. But getting to be vulnerable in bed is a nice change. Love anything where the character hates his/her newfound "powerlessness" and is truly struggling with it in most areas but really gets off on the powerlessness in bed.” for the Five Acts Meme.
A seizure was an electric storm in the brain. It was one of the first things that Ellie had learned about during her ER rotation as a resident. It was scary as hell to watch someone have one, but there was really nothing you could do for them. Roll them on their side, make them comfortable and watch to make sure they didn't die. As a doctor she knew all of these things, but when Chuck collapsed to the ground and started to seize, she forgot that there was nothing you could do. Because when it was Chuck, the rules always seemed to change for him.
Not so much this time.
John Casey, from next door showed up with Sara, and Ellie didn't think that was weird for some reason. It had become acceptable for her brother's ex and their neighbor to travel together, especially when Chuck was in trouble. They were always there with him. John looked angry, and Sara's face was drawn with concern.
“Ellie, do you remember anything that might have set him off?”
“I'm a doctor,” she mumbled.
Devon was watching her warily. “Hon, she didn't mean-”
“I'm a doctor,” she repeated, more forcefully this time.
“I didn't mean that you weren't-”
“I'm a fucking doctor! Don't you think I know what sets off fucking seizures!” She hurled her coffee cup at the door. Much quieter now,she said, “They're not supposed to be this bad, and it doesn't take six hours to recover from one.”
Her husband nodded. “Please sit down.”
She curled herself into his side. “This is not how seizures work.”
He nodded, smoothing a hand over her back and drawing her into his lap.
Casey and Sara watched Chuck's chest rise and fall from a gap in the other side of the curtain. They were going to move him into the main hospital, keep him overnight. When he woke up, a doctor had warned Devon and Ellie, he may not be the same man they knew. They had nodded and signed forms.
“You take first watch,” Sara whispered and left, presumably to go get orders from the general on what you do when the Intersect becomes incapacitated.
Ellie stayed by Chuck's side until Devon physically picked her up and carried her to the car. Sound asleep as she was, of course, she didn't stand a chance. Casey watched them both from outside the window, and when he was sure they were gone, he crept in. It felt different not to be the one in the hospital bed for a change, but it didn't feel good.
Chuck's face was drawn and pale, and Casey didn't like the powerful anger that welled up in his chest. He wanted to pull Chuck into him, protect him from all the bad things in the world, and never let him out of his sight again. He settled for holding Chuck's hand and rubbing small circles on the back of his palm.
When Chuck woke up three days later, it was with a killer headache. He smiled at Casey and Ellie, then frowned and gave a pained cry. He curled into a small ball and hid his face in the pillow. The nurse hooked him up to caffeine and a stronger pain killer, and the doctor came in to do some neuro checks.
“He'll be fine. I think you'll be able to take him home later tonight.”
Ellie and Casey exchanged a look. “I think you should take him home.”
He struggled very hard to keep his eyebrows from soaring into his hairline and managed a minute nod. It would be fine. Everything would be just fine.
~
Casey expected Chuck to be disoriented, but he didn't expect him to be so miserable and bitchy about it. He sequestrated himself in Casey's bedroom, curled up into a tiny ball and moped. He took his meds and drank fluids like Ellie had told him too. The model patient, but he kicked Casey out of his bed. On a normal day, this meant that Chuck would threaten him with no sex and be grumpy. At the end of the night, however, he would get Casey a beer, pour himself a glass of wine and crawl into the other man's lap while he lounged on the couch. Sex on the bed may not have happened, but they definitely ended up there after they finished up on the couch.
Now, it meant that Casey ate dinner alone, sat on the couch watching television alone, and, ultimately, fell asleep on the coach alone thinking about the time Chuck had pounced on him during a marathon on ESPN of “Best fumbles of 2008.” Chuck hated football.
His first day back at the Buy More also meant Chuck's first time in front of the general and Casey and Sara as his handlers. Chuck was sullen and popping Advil, clutching a water bottle tightly in one hand as he listened. His head was pounding and a flash was unlikely to make the pounding.
“Mr. Bartowski, take a look at some of the surveillance footage. We have been unable to get a proper ID. Perhaps, the Intersect will have more luck than we have been having these past few days.”
The photographs were of a young man with dark hair and eyes, or Chinese descent with a woman, who looked Russian. Her eyes were blue and her hair fell around her shoulders in ironed ringlets. It was just how Ellie's hair looked when she used the curling iron that Chuck had burned his hand on during Spring Break of freshman year at Stanford. They were sitting, walking, talking, smiling and in the darkest photo, he had picked her up and kissed her, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist. They looked happy. Chuck didn't flash and the headache still pounded away in his head.
“Well?” Casey's tone was harsh, but both men knew the worry underlying the question.
“Nothing. I can't. There's nothing.”
The two commanders on screen said nothing, then ordered Chuck to leave the room. Casey and Sara waited expectantly, but the silence was long and harsh on everyone.
Finally, the general spoke, “We were worried that could happen.”
“What do you mean?” Sara asked.
“The Intersect has been compromised since Bartowski's seizure. We're concerned about whether or not he'll be able to function at all in the foreseeable future.”
“What if he can't?” Casey focused intently on the two commanding officers.
“We're not entirely sure.”
Chuck didn't seem all that bothered when he learned that he was virtually useless to both the CIA and the NSA.
“It's not really all that different. I don't even have to get in the car now.”
Sara's face was tight with pain. She looked like she was struggling not to throttle the young man sitting on the floor display recliner. Casey knew she was worried, so was he to be honest.
“If there's no mission for me, then can I just go home?”
They both looked up to yell at him, but when Casey saw how he was rubbing at the tears in his eyes, he softened.
“Yeah. I'll take you home, Chuck.”
Lying in bed, Chuck tried to remember everything about the Seizure. It deserved a capital, even if it was only in his mind that it got one. He remembered waking up after a night with Casey, a pleasant ache between his legs and the warm bulk of his lover next to him. He remembered Morgan's drunken text messages and the voice mail from Anna declaring that her boyfriend was a pussy because he couldn't drink Bud. He remembered talking with Ellie, couldn't quite recall what they had been talking about and then her words had gone all fuzzy and nothing. Complete blackness. The rest of the day had been lost, and then he remembered waking up and feeling agony. Like someone was trying to rip his brain out through his spinal column.
“My neck is killing me,” Casey declared, shoving the door opened. He was, however, carrying a cup of coffee as a peace offering. It smelled like hazelnut. Chuck's boyfriend had made him coffee. “I'm not spending the night on the sofa.”
Chuck grunted in a very Casey like fashion and accepted the cup. He sighed with happiness when he drained the cup in one go. Casey undressed to his boxers, folding his clothes neatly and leaving them on the trunk at the end of the bed. He caught Chuck glancing at him sideways before he tried to hide his eyes. Then, he realized they hadn't shared a bed in three weeks. Finally under the covers of his, yes his thank you very much, bed, Casey realized that Chuck had scooted all the way to the other edge of the bed. It might have hurt if he couldn't feel the fine tremors along the mattress.
“What's a matter?” he growled.
Chuck made an indignant noise in response. “Nothing. Go to sleep, Casey.”
He didn't normally mind a quiet Chuck. It was usually what he was after. No one was quite as surprised as he was when he found himself rolling over to pull Chuck into his arms. The other man didn't help him, but he also didn't protest.
“What's eating at you?” he whispered, his breath making Chuck shiver.
“I'm useless.”
He chuckled. “Never stopped you before.”
“Casey, can we not do this right now?”
He froze, his hand flexing around Chuck's thigh, not hard just...flexing. “Are you scared?”
“Stop it!” He forcibly shoved Casey off of him and clambered out of bed. “The Intersect is gone, you moron. What the hell are they going to keep you and Sara on me for?” Casey was quiet, and Chuck grinned in bitter triumph. “Bet you didn't think of that one.”
He turned and walked into the kitchen. Casey followed.
“Of course I've though about it, Bartowski. You think I got to be a major by letting computer nerds tell me what I needed to think about?”He sighed and rubbed at his eyes. “It's too late for this and you're still not feeling better. Come back to bed, Chuck.”
“I don't want to.”
“I swear to God if you don't-”
Chuck was moody, something Casey hadn't seen in a long time, and belligerent. “You'll what? What exactly are you going to do, John?”
The tone of his voice ticked Casey off. It was like he was mocking him, and that didn't sit right with him at all. He exhaled loudly.
“For fuck's sake.” He pounced, catching Chuck by surprise. His arms were heavy around Chuck's waist, and he pinned Chuck to the nearest wall with a thigh between his legs and his superior muscle mass, which was damn heavy from Chuck's point of view. “What are you playing at, Chuck? What the hell good is it going to do you to piss me off?”
“So you just get all grabby and yell at me, right? Because Casey, I don't know what the hell to do!” He struggled slightly against the steel grip and gave up, falling limp against the wall. There were tears streaking down his cheeks. “Because I don't know what to do without you.” He cupped Casey's face gently and kissed the tip of his noise. “I forgot how to be me without you.”
“Not going anywhere, idiot.”
Chuck's smile looked painful. “They're going to make you.”
“Dammit, Chuck!” He hauled Chuck up against the wall, and his legs wrapped around Casey's waist automatically. “How many times do I have to tell you? I'm not going anywhere!”
Chuck had never flashed on Casey in bed, but there were other times when he would. He'd be watching the muscles of his arms twitch and bunch as he carried some woman's grill or some man's television screen. The Intersect would recall anatomical facts, how much force was required to lift a grown man off his feet, exactly how strong Major Casey was, and that small part of Chuck's brain that was all his would fantasize about how those arms would feel holding him up or forcing him down. It would get him all hot and bothered. Before he started sleeping with Casey, that meant a night of playing with his favorite dildo. After, it meant a night of kinky sex highly influenced by the Intersect. Now, he didn't have the Intersect or his dildo, although he doubted Casey would mind either fact.
The warm hand on his cheek jerked him back to reality, and Chuck knew his face was bright red from the blush. “Hey, you still with me?”
Chuck nodded. “Can you...?”
“Haven't topped you in a long while now,” he observed thoughtfully, punctuating the statement with a kiss.
The anger in the room was ebbing. Chuck smiled, and Casey returned it, small and shy. It surprised him the first time, when he learned how considerate the other man was in bed. He was generous to a fault, and Chuck could never recall a time when his physical needs weren't met. Sometimes, the emotions got them both bungled up, but Casey always made sure they had a good time.
“I think I'd like that.”
“How's your head?”
“Fine.”
He gave a sharp gasp when Casey pushed off from the wall and carried him back to the bedroom. Without the Intersect analyzing the wall's corners or the physics of the space, he simply clung to Casey's torso. He never questioned the security of his position, and he could feel Casey's erection rubbing against him. When Casey did let him go, it was only to let him fall onto the mattress. He tumbled head over heels and ended up on his knees, eyes level with Casey's waist.
“Can I?” Chuck reached for him but pulled back, his fingertips skimming the elastic band of Casey's boxers.
“Been a long time since you were shy,” he said, tilting Chuck's chin up, forcing his lover to look at him. “Go ahead. Get me wet.”
Chuck looked away all of his insecurities rushing up to the surface, but Casey would take care of everything. He would make all the decisions since Chuck wasn't able to. For once, he didn't feel as worried about anything, like the other times he was made aware of the fact that the Intersect was gone. He ran his palm up and down the hot length, relishing the feel of it through the soft cotton. Casey stroked his hair, rubbing his scalp with calloused fingers, encouraging him but not too rough either.
Tentatively, he reached inside and pulled Casey out, startling at the pulse of the flesh. He looked up and met Casey's eyes, very bright and very blue, and kitten licked at the clear fluid dripping from the head. The muscles of Casey's legs jumped, but he didn't thrust. Not yet.
“That's it, sweetheart. Need more than just a taste. You like it though?” Chuck blushed fiercely and nodded. “Suck it then.”
Chuck obeyed, sucking at head, feeling the heavy weight against his tongue and the saltiness of sweat and the bitterness of soap from his evening shower. Casey groaned above him and braced himself against Chuck's shoulder. Encouraged, Chuck gripped the rest of Casey's shaft with his hand and held him tightly.
“Fuck,” Casey groaned, his fingers twitching in Chuck's hair. “Stop.”
Chuck pulled off with a smack of his lips and watched Casey for some cue of what he was supposed to do. “Was it okay?” He sounded worried, and Casey seized him by the hair. The forcefulness of the kiss had Chuck's knees buckling. If not for the firm grip Casey had on him, Chuck thought he would have fallen, and his cock throbbed at the idea. “Your mouth was made for that, boy,” Casey growled against his lips. “Lie down and put your hands on the headboard.”
He gripped the wood so tight, his knuckles were white from the force. “Casey?”
“Shut up, Chuck,” Casey grumbled. He stood up and shut off the lights.
It took a moment for Chuck's ideas to adapt to the darker interior, and when they finally did, he was only able to make out Casey as a dark shaped blur above him. Wow. He really was strong.
“Casey?” he whispered, breaking off when the other man mouthed at his neck. The growl ticked the back of Chuck's neck. “Are you gonna...”
He looked away again and Casey sighed. “Chuck, if you don't stop that, I'm gonna make you go sleep on the couch.”
Chuck's breathing sped up. “Would you really do that?”
They both felt the moment something changed between them. Casey could feel the wetness of Chuck's precome slipping between his thighs and ran his fingertips through the moisture. Now Casey smiled at Chuck's trembling.
“Why? That make you wet? Thinking about me making you do something?” He slipped the blunt tip of his index finger just inside of Chuck's hole, teasing at the rim. “You can't make me stop.” He nuzzled Chuck's hair, “And you don't want to make me stop. God, you're such a slut, Bartowski.”
Chuck clutched at Casey's shoulders and trembled. His hole was clenching tightly at Casey's finger, but Casey made no move to pull out or push in further. He rewarded Chuck's patience with a kiss.
“You want to keep playing you go get the toys from the dresser.” He paused, looking Chuck straight in the eye. “We don't have to do this. I can make you come without any of that, Chuck, and if you don't want to play, then we won't.” Casey didn't have to explain why he was being so gentle. It was between them. Chuck was a broken Intersect. He couldn't even be rebooted.
Slowly, Chuck pulled away and padded across the room to their dresser. In the very bottom drawer, Case had stored all of their sex toys as well as the expensive lube in a carved out inlet. There were the traditional dildos and vibes, a few cock rings and anal plugs. There was also a set of silk scarves, a paddle and a metal spider gag that Chuck only used when he wanted Casey to make him cry. He returned to bed with the lube and a thick vibe. Casey laid them on the bedside table and turned back to survey his boy. It was as he was looking over Chuck, sizing him up like a piece of meat that he noticed he had his hands behind his back.
“What do you have there, pet?”
Reluctantly, Chuck presented his collar, a thin length of black lace and silk, and the gag. He slid gracefully down on his knees by the side of the bed. “Casey, I think that I - I want to do this hard. I know it's been a while, but I need it. I really fucking need it.”
It was that small curse that had Casey reaching down to cup himself. When Chuck had gotten up, he had tucked himself back into his boxers, but he knew his erection was tenting the material. He also knew that Chuck was licking his lips while he stared at Casey's hard-on.
Casey took the gag and placed it on the bedspread, then carefully considered the collar, worrying the material between his big fingers. “Kneel. I want you to listen to me.” He put his hand under Chuck's chin and tilted it up, forcing him to meet Casey's eyes. “You're not in a good head place.”
Chuck nodded, wondering if Casey was rethinking the situation. He did that on occasion. If Chuck pushed too much, then they went to bed quietly after Casey jerked him off. It was nice to be held afterward, but it wasn't as nice as being held after a good long fuck and an ache that lingering down to his bones.
“Baby, you're more than a computer brain. You're a good man,” he stroked his thumb over Chuck's lips as he said it. Chuck licked at them with the tip of his tongue. “You're sweet and kind. Generous to a fault. Lord knows you drive me to fucking distraction with how sexy you are.” Casey was smiling now. “And I...” he paused, swallowing, and Chuck's heart gave a lurch. “I love you, Charles.”
“Casey, I-”
“No talking,” he reminded, gently. “But that doesn't mean that you don't deserve a licking.” Chuck's cock perked up at that. “You've been acting out, and you need to remember your place. And you also need to remember mine.” He gripped Chuck's chin tightly. “I'm in this with you. Do you understand me? Go on, speak.”
“Yes, Casey.”
“What's your safeword?”
“Red.”
“Alright then.” Casey wrapped the collar around Chuck's neck and fastened it, then picked up the gag and wrapped it around Chuck's head.
Chuck gave a low moan and his eyes slipped shut. It felt right to have that weight on his throat, to have a purpose again. Casey's palm was at the base of his throat, and his Adam’s apple bobbed against it. Casey's fingers scraped against his skin, the callouses rubbing in a delicious way.
“You want me to take you over my knee?”
Casey's voice was hoarse, and Chuck nodded eagerly. Yes he did want that. Casey's warmth pulled away, and he opened his eyes. Casey was sitting down at the foot of the bed, his legs spread, waiting patiently. Chuck was shaking as he fitted himself between Casey's thighs, resting one hot cheek on Casey's knee, his cock curving up and rubbing deliciously against Casey's muscular legs.
He never warned Chuck before the first slap of his palm. It was better to let the anticipation build. When he did smack his hand against the meat of Chuck's buttock, Chuck jumped with surprise. It earned him another rough smack. They set up a steady rhythm, punctuated by Chuck's rough pants and Casey's grunts each time Chuck struggled against him. Chuck fought with himself not to react, to take everything with stoicism and grace like he would have been able to before.
The hot wetness alerted Casey to the fact that Chuck was crying. He stopped, resting his hand against the curve of Chuck's ass and waited for the silent sobbing to subsist. There were a few hitches, and Chuck's drool was dripping down his leg before the boy finally settled down. Casey soothed Chuck's lower back before reaching for the lube. It was the warming kind, and it tingled as it slid down from the well of Chuck's lower back down his crevice, teasing his hole. He grunted and pushed back against Casey's hand.
“You're such a slut for it, aren't you, baby?”
Chuck tried to answer, but the gag held his mouth wide open. It was obscene and embarrassing, but it made him so damn hot. “Uhn, suh.”
Two fingers penetrated deeply and Chuck's thighs trembled. Casey probed and teased, scraping his fingers along Chuck's inner walls, which were now slick with lubricant. He added a third and twisted. Chuck's legs buckled. He collapsed against Casey's thighs, and Casey's hand was steady on his lower back, holding him up. He wined softly when Casey pulled his fingers out with a wet sound and the firm press of the vibe replaced it.
“I'm gonna fuck you, sweetheart, and you're gonna love every fucking minute of it.”
Chuck made a sound of agreement, tensing when the vibe pushed inside of him. He let out a harsh moan as it moved deeper inside and finally, was shoved in all the way to the base. Casey rested his palm on the span of Chuck's rear, covering the base of the toy and preventing Chuck from ejecting it. When he was sure that Chuck's body had accepted it, he manipulated Chuck's now pliable body onto the bed. The friction from the bed covering was delicious against Chuck's cock and pelvis.
“I'm gonna fuck your mouth.” He yanked off his boxers and stroked his cock until precome was flowing easily down the shaft. “Get comfortable.”
The sounds from Chuck had to be illegal. He was making eager little needy sounds and rubbing himself against the mattress with desperation. The metal arms of the gag were tucked behind Chuck's lips, and he licked at them. The little irritations were red and rubbed raw. Casey painted those lips with the head of his cock, relishing how Chuck lapped at him.
As Casey thrust his cock, there was nothing to stop him from forcing Chuck to take his whole length. “That's it. Fuck, you are so gorgeous.” He turned on the vibe with a flick of the switch.
Chuck moaned and the vibrations from the toy spurred him on. He moved his head energetically up and down, tightening and loosening his throat as best he could. Casey must have liked what he was doing because he gripped Chuck's hair just enough to tug but not enough to hurt and came in hot spurts. When he was done, he was trembling. He watched his come slip out from the corners of Chuck's mouth. Chuck, on the other hand, was blushing and still hard. White fluid dripped down his face and neck while he humped at the mattress unable to get the right leverage. Casey kissed the corners of his mouth.
“Gonna take care of you. Promise.”
Tears cascaded down Chuck's cheeks and he tried to hide his face in Casey's shoulder. He gasped and sobbed, cock still rigid, throbbing. Casey pulled Chuck up against him, so they were chest to back and wrapped one arm around his waist to steady him. He pumped him perfectly, just the way Chuck liked and flicked the head with the right amount of forced. Chuck stiffened in his arms and thrashed through his orgasm. White spunk covered Casey's hand and dribbled down Chuck's thigh, where the muscles were quivering. He was crying harder now, and Casey gently pulled the gag off.
“Shh. It's alright.”
“Sorry, I'm so sorry. I - Fuck,” he let out a strangled noise and buried himself in Casey's embrace. “Thank you. I love you.”
~
The next morning, Casey startled awake to discover that Chuck had woken up before him. His reality shifted slightly to the left, but he concluded that the change was acceptable. Chuck was in the kitchen, eating eggs while standing by the counter, dressed in one of Casey's black t-shirts and a pair of jeans. His smile was brilliantly white.
“Morning, sleepy.”
He grunted in response and poured a cup of coffee for himself. It was weaker than he normally took it, but fine nevertheless.
“You doing okay?”
Chuck's smile dimmed. “This doesn't make everything okay, Casey. I can't guarantee that one night of admittedly awesome sex is going to make it...” He drifted off and cleared his throat. “The Intersect was part of me. It was me most of the time. I don't know if I'll ever be able to completely accept that it's gone.”
Casey sipped slowly, processing before he spoke. “That's not what I mean, you moron.”
Chuck startled and dropped his fork. “What did you-”
“I meant,” he gently cupped Chuck's ass, and leaned in to nuzzle his throat, “are you okay?”
“Oh.” He blushed darkly. “I, yeah. I'm okay.” He looked into Casey's eyes and smiled softly. “I'm okay, but I think that...”
“Yeah?”
“I think I might need, you know, that more often.”
Casey chuckled and kissed Chuck's lips, tasting coffee and salt from the eggs. “I think I can help with that.”
~
The next time Sara and Casey were sent on a mission, Chuck was still able to figure out the bad guy (CEO Michael Sherbert and the accountant Larry Smith involved in arms trade with embezzled funds), but this time he only knew because the CIA and NSA were allowing him access to their written materials. He still remembered some of his secrets. If he didn't keep sharp, they reasoned, then he wouldn't be useful to anyone anymore. Casey helped him study, too. They would sit on the floor sometimes or sit at the dining room table. If Chuck was feeling less than stellar, which was happening more and more often these days, then Casey would force him to stand naked in the middle of the living room, which his legs braced wide and his hands clasped behind his back with nothing to cover himself. It grounded him in that special way that let his the worrisome part of his mind that still questioned hiss value and importance shut down, so all that mattered was earning Casey's praise and making the other man happy. Often, that included lots of orgasms and once, the creative use of a soap dispenser bottle filled with Astroglide.
Author: kaylynnkie
Disclaimer: Not mine
Pairing: Chuck/Casey
Summary: When Chuck loses the Intersect, he's too angry and frustrated to notice that Casey hadn't left yet. Lots of porn.
Word Count: ~5,000
Warnings/Rating: NC-17, some angst, D/s elements, spanking and a spider gag
Notes: Written for daria234 's prompt over at ; “ 4. Someone becomes a normal human (superhero, angel, Intersect, whatever) and hates it. But getting to be vulnerable in bed is a nice change. Love anything where the character hates his/her newfound "powerlessness" and is truly struggling with it in most areas but really gets off on the powerlessness in bed.” for the Five Acts Meme.
A seizure was an electric storm in the brain. It was one of the first things that Ellie had learned about during her ER rotation as a resident. It was scary as hell to watch someone have one, but there was really nothing you could do for them. Roll them on their side, make them comfortable and watch to make sure they didn't die. As a doctor she knew all of these things, but when Chuck collapsed to the ground and started to seize, she forgot that there was nothing you could do. Because when it was Chuck, the rules always seemed to change for him.
Not so much this time.
John Casey, from next door showed up with Sara, and Ellie didn't think that was weird for some reason. It had become acceptable for her brother's ex and their neighbor to travel together, especially when Chuck was in trouble. They were always there with him. John looked angry, and Sara's face was drawn with concern.
“Ellie, do you remember anything that might have set him off?”
“I'm a doctor,” she mumbled.
Devon was watching her warily. “Hon, she didn't mean-”
“I'm a doctor,” she repeated, more forcefully this time.
“I didn't mean that you weren't-”
“I'm a fucking doctor! Don't you think I know what sets off fucking seizures!” She hurled her coffee cup at the door. Much quieter now,she said, “They're not supposed to be this bad, and it doesn't take six hours to recover from one.”
Her husband nodded. “Please sit down.”
She curled herself into his side. “This is not how seizures work.”
He nodded, smoothing a hand over her back and drawing her into his lap.
Casey and Sara watched Chuck's chest rise and fall from a gap in the other side of the curtain. They were going to move him into the main hospital, keep him overnight. When he woke up, a doctor had warned Devon and Ellie, he may not be the same man they knew. They had nodded and signed forms.
“You take first watch,” Sara whispered and left, presumably to go get orders from the general on what you do when the Intersect becomes incapacitated.
Ellie stayed by Chuck's side until Devon physically picked her up and carried her to the car. Sound asleep as she was, of course, she didn't stand a chance. Casey watched them both from outside the window, and when he was sure they were gone, he crept in. It felt different not to be the one in the hospital bed for a change, but it didn't feel good.
Chuck's face was drawn and pale, and Casey didn't like the powerful anger that welled up in his chest. He wanted to pull Chuck into him, protect him from all the bad things in the world, and never let him out of his sight again. He settled for holding Chuck's hand and rubbing small circles on the back of his palm.
When Chuck woke up three days later, it was with a killer headache. He smiled at Casey and Ellie, then frowned and gave a pained cry. He curled into a small ball and hid his face in the pillow. The nurse hooked him up to caffeine and a stronger pain killer, and the doctor came in to do some neuro checks.
“He'll be fine. I think you'll be able to take him home later tonight.”
Ellie and Casey exchanged a look. “I think you should take him home.”
He struggled very hard to keep his eyebrows from soaring into his hairline and managed a minute nod. It would be fine. Everything would be just fine.
~
Casey expected Chuck to be disoriented, but he didn't expect him to be so miserable and bitchy about it. He sequestrated himself in Casey's bedroom, curled up into a tiny ball and moped. He took his meds and drank fluids like Ellie had told him too. The model patient, but he kicked Casey out of his bed. On a normal day, this meant that Chuck would threaten him with no sex and be grumpy. At the end of the night, however, he would get Casey a beer, pour himself a glass of wine and crawl into the other man's lap while he lounged on the couch. Sex on the bed may not have happened, but they definitely ended up there after they finished up on the couch.
Now, it meant that Casey ate dinner alone, sat on the couch watching television alone, and, ultimately, fell asleep on the coach alone thinking about the time Chuck had pounced on him during a marathon on ESPN of “Best fumbles of 2008.” Chuck hated football.
His first day back at the Buy More also meant Chuck's first time in front of the general and Casey and Sara as his handlers. Chuck was sullen and popping Advil, clutching a water bottle tightly in one hand as he listened. His head was pounding and a flash was unlikely to make the pounding.
“Mr. Bartowski, take a look at some of the surveillance footage. We have been unable to get a proper ID. Perhaps, the Intersect will have more luck than we have been having these past few days.”
The photographs were of a young man with dark hair and eyes, or Chinese descent with a woman, who looked Russian. Her eyes were blue and her hair fell around her shoulders in ironed ringlets. It was just how Ellie's hair looked when she used the curling iron that Chuck had burned his hand on during Spring Break of freshman year at Stanford. They were sitting, walking, talking, smiling and in the darkest photo, he had picked her up and kissed her, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist. They looked happy. Chuck didn't flash and the headache still pounded away in his head.
“Well?” Casey's tone was harsh, but both men knew the worry underlying the question.
“Nothing. I can't. There's nothing.”
The two commanders on screen said nothing, then ordered Chuck to leave the room. Casey and Sara waited expectantly, but the silence was long and harsh on everyone.
Finally, the general spoke, “We were worried that could happen.”
“What do you mean?” Sara asked.
“The Intersect has been compromised since Bartowski's seizure. We're concerned about whether or not he'll be able to function at all in the foreseeable future.”
“What if he can't?” Casey focused intently on the two commanding officers.
“We're not entirely sure.”
Chuck didn't seem all that bothered when he learned that he was virtually useless to both the CIA and the NSA.
“It's not really all that different. I don't even have to get in the car now.”
Sara's face was tight with pain. She looked like she was struggling not to throttle the young man sitting on the floor display recliner. Casey knew she was worried, so was he to be honest.
“If there's no mission for me, then can I just go home?”
They both looked up to yell at him, but when Casey saw how he was rubbing at the tears in his eyes, he softened.
“Yeah. I'll take you home, Chuck.”
Lying in bed, Chuck tried to remember everything about the Seizure. It deserved a capital, even if it was only in his mind that it got one. He remembered waking up after a night with Casey, a pleasant ache between his legs and the warm bulk of his lover next to him. He remembered Morgan's drunken text messages and the voice mail from Anna declaring that her boyfriend was a pussy because he couldn't drink Bud. He remembered talking with Ellie, couldn't quite recall what they had been talking about and then her words had gone all fuzzy and nothing. Complete blackness. The rest of the day had been lost, and then he remembered waking up and feeling agony. Like someone was trying to rip his brain out through his spinal column.
“My neck is killing me,” Casey declared, shoving the door opened. He was, however, carrying a cup of coffee as a peace offering. It smelled like hazelnut. Chuck's boyfriend had made him coffee. “I'm not spending the night on the sofa.”
Chuck grunted in a very Casey like fashion and accepted the cup. He sighed with happiness when he drained the cup in one go. Casey undressed to his boxers, folding his clothes neatly and leaving them on the trunk at the end of the bed. He caught Chuck glancing at him sideways before he tried to hide his eyes. Then, he realized they hadn't shared a bed in three weeks. Finally under the covers of his, yes his thank you very much, bed, Casey realized that Chuck had scooted all the way to the other edge of the bed. It might have hurt if he couldn't feel the fine tremors along the mattress.
“What's a matter?” he growled.
Chuck made an indignant noise in response. “Nothing. Go to sleep, Casey.”
He didn't normally mind a quiet Chuck. It was usually what he was after. No one was quite as surprised as he was when he found himself rolling over to pull Chuck into his arms. The other man didn't help him, but he also didn't protest.
“What's eating at you?” he whispered, his breath making Chuck shiver.
“I'm useless.”
He chuckled. “Never stopped you before.”
“Casey, can we not do this right now?”
He froze, his hand flexing around Chuck's thigh, not hard just...flexing. “Are you scared?”
“Stop it!” He forcibly shoved Casey off of him and clambered out of bed. “The Intersect is gone, you moron. What the hell are they going to keep you and Sara on me for?” Casey was quiet, and Chuck grinned in bitter triumph. “Bet you didn't think of that one.”
He turned and walked into the kitchen. Casey followed.
“Of course I've though about it, Bartowski. You think I got to be a major by letting computer nerds tell me what I needed to think about?”He sighed and rubbed at his eyes. “It's too late for this and you're still not feeling better. Come back to bed, Chuck.”
“I don't want to.”
“I swear to God if you don't-”
Chuck was moody, something Casey hadn't seen in a long time, and belligerent. “You'll what? What exactly are you going to do, John?”
The tone of his voice ticked Casey off. It was like he was mocking him, and that didn't sit right with him at all. He exhaled loudly.
“For fuck's sake.” He pounced, catching Chuck by surprise. His arms were heavy around Chuck's waist, and he pinned Chuck to the nearest wall with a thigh between his legs and his superior muscle mass, which was damn heavy from Chuck's point of view. “What are you playing at, Chuck? What the hell good is it going to do you to piss me off?”
“So you just get all grabby and yell at me, right? Because Casey, I don't know what the hell to do!” He struggled slightly against the steel grip and gave up, falling limp against the wall. There were tears streaking down his cheeks. “Because I don't know what to do without you.” He cupped Casey's face gently and kissed the tip of his noise. “I forgot how to be me without you.”
“Not going anywhere, idiot.”
Chuck's smile looked painful. “They're going to make you.”
“Dammit, Chuck!” He hauled Chuck up against the wall, and his legs wrapped around Casey's waist automatically. “How many times do I have to tell you? I'm not going anywhere!”
Chuck had never flashed on Casey in bed, but there were other times when he would. He'd be watching the muscles of his arms twitch and bunch as he carried some woman's grill or some man's television screen. The Intersect would recall anatomical facts, how much force was required to lift a grown man off his feet, exactly how strong Major Casey was, and that small part of Chuck's brain that was all his would fantasize about how those arms would feel holding him up or forcing him down. It would get him all hot and bothered. Before he started sleeping with Casey, that meant a night of playing with his favorite dildo. After, it meant a night of kinky sex highly influenced by the Intersect. Now, he didn't have the Intersect or his dildo, although he doubted Casey would mind either fact.
The warm hand on his cheek jerked him back to reality, and Chuck knew his face was bright red from the blush. “Hey, you still with me?”
Chuck nodded. “Can you...?”
“Haven't topped you in a long while now,” he observed thoughtfully, punctuating the statement with a kiss.
The anger in the room was ebbing. Chuck smiled, and Casey returned it, small and shy. It surprised him the first time, when he learned how considerate the other man was in bed. He was generous to a fault, and Chuck could never recall a time when his physical needs weren't met. Sometimes, the emotions got them both bungled up, but Casey always made sure they had a good time.
“I think I'd like that.”
“How's your head?”
“Fine.”
He gave a sharp gasp when Casey pushed off from the wall and carried him back to the bedroom. Without the Intersect analyzing the wall's corners or the physics of the space, he simply clung to Casey's torso. He never questioned the security of his position, and he could feel Casey's erection rubbing against him. When Casey did let him go, it was only to let him fall onto the mattress. He tumbled head over heels and ended up on his knees, eyes level with Casey's waist.
“Can I?” Chuck reached for him but pulled back, his fingertips skimming the elastic band of Casey's boxers.
“Been a long time since you were shy,” he said, tilting Chuck's chin up, forcing his lover to look at him. “Go ahead. Get me wet.”
Chuck looked away all of his insecurities rushing up to the surface, but Casey would take care of everything. He would make all the decisions since Chuck wasn't able to. For once, he didn't feel as worried about anything, like the other times he was made aware of the fact that the Intersect was gone. He ran his palm up and down the hot length, relishing the feel of it through the soft cotton. Casey stroked his hair, rubbing his scalp with calloused fingers, encouraging him but not too rough either.
Tentatively, he reached inside and pulled Casey out, startling at the pulse of the flesh. He looked up and met Casey's eyes, very bright and very blue, and kitten licked at the clear fluid dripping from the head. The muscles of Casey's legs jumped, but he didn't thrust. Not yet.
“That's it, sweetheart. Need more than just a taste. You like it though?” Chuck blushed fiercely and nodded. “Suck it then.”
Chuck obeyed, sucking at head, feeling the heavy weight against his tongue and the saltiness of sweat and the bitterness of soap from his evening shower. Casey groaned above him and braced himself against Chuck's shoulder. Encouraged, Chuck gripped the rest of Casey's shaft with his hand and held him tightly.
“Fuck,” Casey groaned, his fingers twitching in Chuck's hair. “Stop.”
Chuck pulled off with a smack of his lips and watched Casey for some cue of what he was supposed to do. “Was it okay?” He sounded worried, and Casey seized him by the hair. The forcefulness of the kiss had Chuck's knees buckling. If not for the firm grip Casey had on him, Chuck thought he would have fallen, and his cock throbbed at the idea. “Your mouth was made for that, boy,” Casey growled against his lips. “Lie down and put your hands on the headboard.”
He gripped the wood so tight, his knuckles were white from the force. “Casey?”
“Shut up, Chuck,” Casey grumbled. He stood up and shut off the lights.
It took a moment for Chuck's ideas to adapt to the darker interior, and when they finally did, he was only able to make out Casey as a dark shaped blur above him. Wow. He really was strong.
“Casey?” he whispered, breaking off when the other man mouthed at his neck. The growl ticked the back of Chuck's neck. “Are you gonna...”
He looked away again and Casey sighed. “Chuck, if you don't stop that, I'm gonna make you go sleep on the couch.”
Chuck's breathing sped up. “Would you really do that?”
They both felt the moment something changed between them. Casey could feel the wetness of Chuck's precome slipping between his thighs and ran his fingertips through the moisture. Now Casey smiled at Chuck's trembling.
“Why? That make you wet? Thinking about me making you do something?” He slipped the blunt tip of his index finger just inside of Chuck's hole, teasing at the rim. “You can't make me stop.” He nuzzled Chuck's hair, “And you don't want to make me stop. God, you're such a slut, Bartowski.”
Chuck clutched at Casey's shoulders and trembled. His hole was clenching tightly at Casey's finger, but Casey made no move to pull out or push in further. He rewarded Chuck's patience with a kiss.
“You want to keep playing you go get the toys from the dresser.” He paused, looking Chuck straight in the eye. “We don't have to do this. I can make you come without any of that, Chuck, and if you don't want to play, then we won't.” Casey didn't have to explain why he was being so gentle. It was between them. Chuck was a broken Intersect. He couldn't even be rebooted.
Slowly, Chuck pulled away and padded across the room to their dresser. In the very bottom drawer, Case had stored all of their sex toys as well as the expensive lube in a carved out inlet. There were the traditional dildos and vibes, a few cock rings and anal plugs. There was also a set of silk scarves, a paddle and a metal spider gag that Chuck only used when he wanted Casey to make him cry. He returned to bed with the lube and a thick vibe. Casey laid them on the bedside table and turned back to survey his boy. It was as he was looking over Chuck, sizing him up like a piece of meat that he noticed he had his hands behind his back.
“What do you have there, pet?”
Reluctantly, Chuck presented his collar, a thin length of black lace and silk, and the gag. He slid gracefully down on his knees by the side of the bed. “Casey, I think that I - I want to do this hard. I know it's been a while, but I need it. I really fucking need it.”
It was that small curse that had Casey reaching down to cup himself. When Chuck had gotten up, he had tucked himself back into his boxers, but he knew his erection was tenting the material. He also knew that Chuck was licking his lips while he stared at Casey's hard-on.
Casey took the gag and placed it on the bedspread, then carefully considered the collar, worrying the material between his big fingers. “Kneel. I want you to listen to me.” He put his hand under Chuck's chin and tilted it up, forcing him to meet Casey's eyes. “You're not in a good head place.”
Chuck nodded, wondering if Casey was rethinking the situation. He did that on occasion. If Chuck pushed too much, then they went to bed quietly after Casey jerked him off. It was nice to be held afterward, but it wasn't as nice as being held after a good long fuck and an ache that lingering down to his bones.
“Baby, you're more than a computer brain. You're a good man,” he stroked his thumb over Chuck's lips as he said it. Chuck licked at them with the tip of his tongue. “You're sweet and kind. Generous to a fault. Lord knows you drive me to fucking distraction with how sexy you are.” Casey was smiling now. “And I...” he paused, swallowing, and Chuck's heart gave a lurch. “I love you, Charles.”
“Casey, I-”
“No talking,” he reminded, gently. “But that doesn't mean that you don't deserve a licking.” Chuck's cock perked up at that. “You've been acting out, and you need to remember your place. And you also need to remember mine.” He gripped Chuck's chin tightly. “I'm in this with you. Do you understand me? Go on, speak.”
“Yes, Casey.”
“What's your safeword?”
“Red.”
“Alright then.” Casey wrapped the collar around Chuck's neck and fastened it, then picked up the gag and wrapped it around Chuck's head.
Chuck gave a low moan and his eyes slipped shut. It felt right to have that weight on his throat, to have a purpose again. Casey's palm was at the base of his throat, and his Adam’s apple bobbed against it. Casey's fingers scraped against his skin, the callouses rubbing in a delicious way.
“You want me to take you over my knee?”
Casey's voice was hoarse, and Chuck nodded eagerly. Yes he did want that. Casey's warmth pulled away, and he opened his eyes. Casey was sitting down at the foot of the bed, his legs spread, waiting patiently. Chuck was shaking as he fitted himself between Casey's thighs, resting one hot cheek on Casey's knee, his cock curving up and rubbing deliciously against Casey's muscular legs.
He never warned Chuck before the first slap of his palm. It was better to let the anticipation build. When he did smack his hand against the meat of Chuck's buttock, Chuck jumped with surprise. It earned him another rough smack. They set up a steady rhythm, punctuated by Chuck's rough pants and Casey's grunts each time Chuck struggled against him. Chuck fought with himself not to react, to take everything with stoicism and grace like he would have been able to before.
The hot wetness alerted Casey to the fact that Chuck was crying. He stopped, resting his hand against the curve of Chuck's ass and waited for the silent sobbing to subsist. There were a few hitches, and Chuck's drool was dripping down his leg before the boy finally settled down. Casey soothed Chuck's lower back before reaching for the lube. It was the warming kind, and it tingled as it slid down from the well of Chuck's lower back down his crevice, teasing his hole. He grunted and pushed back against Casey's hand.
“You're such a slut for it, aren't you, baby?”
Chuck tried to answer, but the gag held his mouth wide open. It was obscene and embarrassing, but it made him so damn hot. “Uhn, suh.”
Two fingers penetrated deeply and Chuck's thighs trembled. Casey probed and teased, scraping his fingers along Chuck's inner walls, which were now slick with lubricant. He added a third and twisted. Chuck's legs buckled. He collapsed against Casey's thighs, and Casey's hand was steady on his lower back, holding him up. He wined softly when Casey pulled his fingers out with a wet sound and the firm press of the vibe replaced it.
“I'm gonna fuck you, sweetheart, and you're gonna love every fucking minute of it.”
Chuck made a sound of agreement, tensing when the vibe pushed inside of him. He let out a harsh moan as it moved deeper inside and finally, was shoved in all the way to the base. Casey rested his palm on the span of Chuck's rear, covering the base of the toy and preventing Chuck from ejecting it. When he was sure that Chuck's body had accepted it, he manipulated Chuck's now pliable body onto the bed. The friction from the bed covering was delicious against Chuck's cock and pelvis.
“I'm gonna fuck your mouth.” He yanked off his boxers and stroked his cock until precome was flowing easily down the shaft. “Get comfortable.”
The sounds from Chuck had to be illegal. He was making eager little needy sounds and rubbing himself against the mattress with desperation. The metal arms of the gag were tucked behind Chuck's lips, and he licked at them. The little irritations were red and rubbed raw. Casey painted those lips with the head of his cock, relishing how Chuck lapped at him.
As Casey thrust his cock, there was nothing to stop him from forcing Chuck to take his whole length. “That's it. Fuck, you are so gorgeous.” He turned on the vibe with a flick of the switch.
Chuck moaned and the vibrations from the toy spurred him on. He moved his head energetically up and down, tightening and loosening his throat as best he could. Casey must have liked what he was doing because he gripped Chuck's hair just enough to tug but not enough to hurt and came in hot spurts. When he was done, he was trembling. He watched his come slip out from the corners of Chuck's mouth. Chuck, on the other hand, was blushing and still hard. White fluid dripped down his face and neck while he humped at the mattress unable to get the right leverage. Casey kissed the corners of his mouth.
“Gonna take care of you. Promise.”
Tears cascaded down Chuck's cheeks and he tried to hide his face in Casey's shoulder. He gasped and sobbed, cock still rigid, throbbing. Casey pulled Chuck up against him, so they were chest to back and wrapped one arm around his waist to steady him. He pumped him perfectly, just the way Chuck liked and flicked the head with the right amount of forced. Chuck stiffened in his arms and thrashed through his orgasm. White spunk covered Casey's hand and dribbled down Chuck's thigh, where the muscles were quivering. He was crying harder now, and Casey gently pulled the gag off.
“Shh. It's alright.”
“Sorry, I'm so sorry. I - Fuck,” he let out a strangled noise and buried himself in Casey's embrace. “Thank you. I love you.”
~
The next morning, Casey startled awake to discover that Chuck had woken up before him. His reality shifted slightly to the left, but he concluded that the change was acceptable. Chuck was in the kitchen, eating eggs while standing by the counter, dressed in one of Casey's black t-shirts and a pair of jeans. His smile was brilliantly white.
“Morning, sleepy.”
He grunted in response and poured a cup of coffee for himself. It was weaker than he normally took it, but fine nevertheless.
“You doing okay?”
Chuck's smile dimmed. “This doesn't make everything okay, Casey. I can't guarantee that one night of admittedly awesome sex is going to make it...” He drifted off and cleared his throat. “The Intersect was part of me. It was me most of the time. I don't know if I'll ever be able to completely accept that it's gone.”
Casey sipped slowly, processing before he spoke. “That's not what I mean, you moron.”
Chuck startled and dropped his fork. “What did you-”
“I meant,” he gently cupped Chuck's ass, and leaned in to nuzzle his throat, “are you okay?”
“Oh.” He blushed darkly. “I, yeah. I'm okay.” He looked into Casey's eyes and smiled softly. “I'm okay, but I think that...”
“Yeah?”
“I think I might need, you know, that more often.”
Casey chuckled and kissed Chuck's lips, tasting coffee and salt from the eggs. “I think I can help with that.”
~
The next time Sara and Casey were sent on a mission, Chuck was still able to figure out the bad guy (CEO Michael Sherbert and the accountant Larry Smith involved in arms trade with embezzled funds), but this time he only knew because the CIA and NSA were allowing him access to their written materials. He still remembered some of his secrets. If he didn't keep sharp, they reasoned, then he wouldn't be useful to anyone anymore. Casey helped him study, too. They would sit on the floor sometimes or sit at the dining room table. If Chuck was feeling less than stellar, which was happening more and more often these days, then Casey would force him to stand naked in the middle of the living room, which his legs braced wide and his hands clasped behind his back with nothing to cover himself. It grounded him in that special way that let his the worrisome part of his mind that still questioned hiss value and importance shut down, so all that mattered was earning Casey's praise and making the other man happy. Often, that included lots of orgasms and once, the creative use of a soap dispenser bottle filled with Astroglide.