Fic: Mistakes We Shouldn't Make
Title: Mistakes We Shouldn't Make
Author: Mary (stillxmyxheart)
Beta: Lindsay (nylana)
Rating: Adult
Genre: AU, Angst, Smut, Hurt/Comfort
Word Count: 2,108
Characters/Pairings: Evan, April (Evan/April, references to April/Sam and Evan/Penny)
Summary: They don't hate each other. They're just in pain.
A/N: This is an idea that Lindsay and I talked about a few months back, when we were getting Hope Persists ready to post, and talking about Evan and April's little confrontation in the hallway at the hospital. You know how we love the angst, and we talked about this little angsty idea for Evan and April, and then sort of pushed it to the way back burner. Well, for some unknown reason it exploded in my head the other day again and I just had to write it. This is, quite possibly, the angstiest, darkest thing we've written so far for a!f. It's not a happy fic, by any stretch of the imagination. Yeah, I know, no a!f from me for a month and a half and I come back with WHOA ANGST. Such is my brain, guys.
Evan stares at the beer in his hand, watching the slow progress of a bead of condensation as it trickles down the neck of the amber bottle, shining dully in the dim light of the bar.
He hates it. The condensation, the bottle, the beer, the bar, the bartender, the city, the world. The only solace he has is in the feeling he knows the beer will give him, how it might make him drunk enough to forget everything he's lost and how worthless his life has become.
He throws back the last swallow and sets the bottle down with a clunk, raising a finger to catch the bartender's attention. He's only put one back so far, but it's still early.
He's raising the new bottle to his lips when he hears the jingle of the bell over the door and glances over to see a familiar figure step into the haze.
He hasn't seen her since the funeral, just over a month ago, but she spots him almost immediately and makes her way over.
She settles onto the stool beside him and when the bartender asks what she wants, she wordlessly points to the beer in Evan's hand.
"What're you doing here?" Evan asks, frowning slightly as he takes another swallow.
"Same thing you are," April replies. "Thinking maybe if I get drunk enough, the pain will go away."
"Cheers, then," Evan says wryly, clinking his bottle against hers when the bartender sets it on the counter.
They drink in silence for a while until a man begins to hassle April for a drink, a game of pool, a dance, dismissing April's protests until Evan finally tells him to fuck off. The man looks for a moment like he wants to fight and Evan tenses, almost wanting it to happen, wanting something to change the ceaseless monotony of his life, but then he just shakes his head and walks away, muttering something under his breath that neither April or Evan care enough to pay attention to.
"It's bullshit," April murmurs, her tone vaguely disgusted as she turns her gaze back to her beer.
"What is, exactly?" Evan asks, glancing at her.
"Everything. The world. My life. Just... everything." A frown creases her brow. "I've lost my lover and my best friend; what the fuck is there now?"
"So have I," Evan mutters, and a humorless smile curves his lips briefly. "In fact, I've lost my lover, my best friend, and my unborn child, so really -"
"Oh, fuck you, Evan," April snaps, turning towards him angrily. "I know where you're going with that, and you can just stop. Your grief is not better than mine because you think you lost more. Just because you were married doesn't mean you loved Penny any more than I loved Sam." She pauses a moment, glaring at him. "And if you want to compare losses, I lost my lover and two best friends; you lost your wife and a child you didn't even know would survive anyway, so really."
Her lip curls slightly on the last two words and then it's Evan's turn to glare, anger swelling within him as April turns back to the counter.
They lapse into silence once again, the air tense around them, and when the bartender returns to ask if they want more, he eyes them warily.
"Fuck it," April says, shaking her head as she pulls out her purse. "I'm going home."
She pays for her drink and as she stands, Evan offers to take her home. It's a purely reflexive question, borne from all the years they went out as friends and spent the evening laughing together, ending the night with Evan taking a slightly tipsy April home. He remembers well the look on Sam's face sometimes, somewhere between exasperation and amusement as he put his arms around his giggling girlfriend, and the thanking nod as Evan raised a hand to leave.
She stares at him for a moment, considering him. She's not drunk by any means, or even tipsy, and he thinks she'll say no, almost hopes that she will, but she finally nods, and he thinks maybe it's more for his benefit than hers.
A short while later April steps into the house she shared with Sam until just a few months ago, followed closely by Evan. The place is silent and empty, and feels emptier with every passing day.
April sighs and drops her keys and purse on the table beside the door before hurrying to straighten up the living room a little bit. She hasn't had anybody in the house since Nathan came by a week or so ago to make her dinner and check up on her.
"Do you want something to drink?" April asks as she turns to face Evan. "Maybe some coffee?"
Evan shakes his head as he moves into the living room and April turns to snatch up a blanket off of a chair, folding it quickly before laying it over the back of the chair.
She turns around and gasps softly when she finds Evan standing behind her, close enough that she can feel the warmth of his body and can smell his aftershave.
His hand rises to her arm and she glances down, a tight feeling growing in her chest.
"Evan," she breathes, her eyes lingering on his hand before rising to his face.
"What?" he murmurs, his gaze intense as he stares down at her. His grip tightens slightly on her arm as he shifts closer to her and her breath catches in her throat.
"What - I -" She looks down at his hand again before shaking her head. "We - we can't. We shouldn't."
Evan lowers his head towards her and his breath is warm against her mouth when he speaks again.
"I know," he whispers before touching his lips to hers.
She's too surprised to kiss him back and his lips leave hers, though he doesn't move away. Their breath mixes in the space between them and April closes her eyes for a moment, trying to breathe normally.
The rational, practical part of her mind is screaming at her to stop this, to push him away and tell him to leave, telling her that she doesn't want this, that she shouldn't want this. But he's here, so close and so warm, and the part of her that's been sleeping alone in a cold, empty bed for the past six months wants this very much.
Her hand rises to his chest and her breath leaves her in a whoosh, her heart pounding so hard she feels it may burst. Her hand slides slowly to his shoulder and she bunches the fabric of his shirt in her fingers, dimly aware of his hand on her hip, slowly creeping under her shirt. His fingers brush against her skin and she takes in a soft, shaky breath, her eyes fluttering open and meeting his.
There's the tiniest of pauses, the last chance for them to stop, and then her hand moves to the back of his neck and she closes the space between them, her lips crashing on his as she presses herself against him.
His fingers grip the edge of her shirt and the kiss breaks as he tugs it off over her head and then his lips are on hers again, rough and insistent. His fingers dig into her flesh as he grips her waist, pulling her against him again, and she grabs the front of his shirt, her feet finding their way around the chair as she begins to pull him towards the downstairs guest room. She can't bring herself to take him upstairs, can't bear the thought of making this mistake in the bed she once shared with Sam.
She fumbles the door open and Evan pushes her inside, his arms around her waist, hands rising to the hooks of her bra. He pulls the garment from her body and she drops onto the bed, leaning back to undo the fastenings on her jeans as he tugs his shirt off. His pants follow soon after and he bends down to pull her jeans from her legs.
He leans forward and captures her lips again, pushing her back and following her progress up the bed. He hooks his fingers over the sides of her panties and yanks them down, tearing the side seam with an audible ripping sound as he pulls them from her legs.
He grips her thigh, pushing her legs further apart and hooking her leg over his arm as he pushes into her, making her gasp as she grips his arms.
He sets a fast pace, thrusting hard and making her fingers tighten on his arms. It's almost too much for her but she doesn't want him to stop, wants it to hurt a little to remind her how much of a mistake this is, how wrong it is for this to be happening.
She closes her eyes, unable to look at him, and then memories of Sam rise unbidden in her mind, memories of his smile and his laugh and the way he said her name, all of the different ways he used to kiss her, the ways he used to make love to her. Tears fill her eyes unexpectedly and she places a hand over her face, even as she continues to tightly grip Evan's arm, her heel pressing against his back.
She feels his pace slow and she opens her eyes to see him staring down at her, his own eyes shining brightly. Concern and something else she can't quite place are etched in his features, and she knows he's thinking of Penny.
She shakes her head and raises her hand to the back of his neck, tugging him down and kissing him hungrily, digging her heel into his back and urging him to continue.
He resumes his pace and it's not long before he pushes her over the edge, neither of them surprised when someone else's name escapes her lips as she tightens around him.
A few more quick thrusts bring his end a moment later and he slumps down on top of her, his breath hot on her neck as he murmurs someone else's name against her skin.
For a long while the only sound in the room is their breathing, and then there's a soft rustle of sheets as Evan pushes himself up.
He looks at April for a moment and raises a hesitant hand to her hair, pushing it from her face before resting his forehead against hers. They share a breath and a heartbeat later she can feel his tears falling to her cheeks, mixing with her own and sliding along her skin.
"I'm sorry," he whispers, the words catching slightly in his throat.
"I know," she whispers back, placing her hand on the back of his neck and gently stroking his hair. "So am I."
They lay quietly for a few minutes more and then Evan shifts over, moving to sit on the edge of the bed.
"I should - I should go," he says quietly, though he doesn't immediately move.
April looks at his back for a moment before turning her gaze to the ceiling, her tears rising again until she covers her eyes with her hand. She takes a breath and then looks back at Evan, reaching over and placing her hand lightly on his back.
"Will you -" she starts, and then stops, unable to quite get the words out.
Evan turns to look at her and she stares at him, her eyebrows knitting together as she tries desperately to keep from breaking down completely.
"Will you - will you stay?" she finally says in a small voice. "Just - just stay with me?"
Evan looks at her for another moment and then stands, turning towards the bed and reaching to tug the covers down. He gestures for her to do the same and she shifts, pushing the sheets down and slipping underneath.
He slides in beside her and she curls against his side, closing her eyes as he slips his arm around her. She rests her hand on his chest and his fingers curl around hers, his thumb sweeping lightly over her skin.
She feels like she wants to say something, to thank him or maybe apologize again, but as she takes a breath to speak, Evan's arm tightens around her and she feels his lips on the top of her head.
"It's okay," he murmurs, gently squeezing her fingers. Her tears spill over, warm on her cheeks and dropping to his chest, and he holds her closer. "It's okay."
Author: Mary (stillxmyxheart)
Beta: Lindsay (nylana)
Rating: Adult
Genre: AU, Angst, Smut, Hurt/Comfort
Word Count: 2,108
Characters/Pairings: Evan, April (Evan/April, references to April/Sam and Evan/Penny)
Summary: They don't hate each other. They're just in pain.
A/N: This is an idea that Lindsay and I talked about a few months back, when we were getting Hope Persists ready to post, and talking about Evan and April's little confrontation in the hallway at the hospital. You know how we love the angst, and we talked about this little angsty idea for Evan and April, and then sort of pushed it to the way back burner. Well, for some unknown reason it exploded in my head the other day again and I just had to write it. This is, quite possibly, the angstiest, darkest thing we've written so far for a!f. It's not a happy fic, by any stretch of the imagination. Yeah, I know, no a!f from me for a month and a half and I come back with WHOA ANGST. Such is my brain, guys.
Evan stares at the beer in his hand, watching the slow progress of a bead of condensation as it trickles down the neck of the amber bottle, shining dully in the dim light of the bar.
He hates it. The condensation, the bottle, the beer, the bar, the bartender, the city, the world. The only solace he has is in the feeling he knows the beer will give him, how it might make him drunk enough to forget everything he's lost and how worthless his life has become.
He throws back the last swallow and sets the bottle down with a clunk, raising a finger to catch the bartender's attention. He's only put one back so far, but it's still early.
He's raising the new bottle to his lips when he hears the jingle of the bell over the door and glances over to see a familiar figure step into the haze.
He hasn't seen her since the funeral, just over a month ago, but she spots him almost immediately and makes her way over.
She settles onto the stool beside him and when the bartender asks what she wants, she wordlessly points to the beer in Evan's hand.
"What're you doing here?" Evan asks, frowning slightly as he takes another swallow.
"Same thing you are," April replies. "Thinking maybe if I get drunk enough, the pain will go away."
"Cheers, then," Evan says wryly, clinking his bottle against hers when the bartender sets it on the counter.
They drink in silence for a while until a man begins to hassle April for a drink, a game of pool, a dance, dismissing April's protests until Evan finally tells him to fuck off. The man looks for a moment like he wants to fight and Evan tenses, almost wanting it to happen, wanting something to change the ceaseless monotony of his life, but then he just shakes his head and walks away, muttering something under his breath that neither April or Evan care enough to pay attention to.
"It's bullshit," April murmurs, her tone vaguely disgusted as she turns her gaze back to her beer.
"What is, exactly?" Evan asks, glancing at her.
"Everything. The world. My life. Just... everything." A frown creases her brow. "I've lost my lover and my best friend; what the fuck is there now?"
"So have I," Evan mutters, and a humorless smile curves his lips briefly. "In fact, I've lost my lover, my best friend, and my unborn child, so really -"
"Oh, fuck you, Evan," April snaps, turning towards him angrily. "I know where you're going with that, and you can just stop. Your grief is not better than mine because you think you lost more. Just because you were married doesn't mean you loved Penny any more than I loved Sam." She pauses a moment, glaring at him. "And if you want to compare losses, I lost my lover and two best friends; you lost your wife and a child you didn't even know would survive anyway, so really."
Her lip curls slightly on the last two words and then it's Evan's turn to glare, anger swelling within him as April turns back to the counter.
They lapse into silence once again, the air tense around them, and when the bartender returns to ask if they want more, he eyes them warily.
"Fuck it," April says, shaking her head as she pulls out her purse. "I'm going home."
She pays for her drink and as she stands, Evan offers to take her home. It's a purely reflexive question, borne from all the years they went out as friends and spent the evening laughing together, ending the night with Evan taking a slightly tipsy April home. He remembers well the look on Sam's face sometimes, somewhere between exasperation and amusement as he put his arms around his giggling girlfriend, and the thanking nod as Evan raised a hand to leave.
She stares at him for a moment, considering him. She's not drunk by any means, or even tipsy, and he thinks she'll say no, almost hopes that she will, but she finally nods, and he thinks maybe it's more for his benefit than hers.
A short while later April steps into the house she shared with Sam until just a few months ago, followed closely by Evan. The place is silent and empty, and feels emptier with every passing day.
April sighs and drops her keys and purse on the table beside the door before hurrying to straighten up the living room a little bit. She hasn't had anybody in the house since Nathan came by a week or so ago to make her dinner and check up on her.
"Do you want something to drink?" April asks as she turns to face Evan. "Maybe some coffee?"
Evan shakes his head as he moves into the living room and April turns to snatch up a blanket off of a chair, folding it quickly before laying it over the back of the chair.
She turns around and gasps softly when she finds Evan standing behind her, close enough that she can feel the warmth of his body and can smell his aftershave.
His hand rises to her arm and she glances down, a tight feeling growing in her chest.
"Evan," she breathes, her eyes lingering on his hand before rising to his face.
"What?" he murmurs, his gaze intense as he stares down at her. His grip tightens slightly on her arm as he shifts closer to her and her breath catches in her throat.
"What - I -" She looks down at his hand again before shaking her head. "We - we can't. We shouldn't."
Evan lowers his head towards her and his breath is warm against her mouth when he speaks again.
"I know," he whispers before touching his lips to hers.
She's too surprised to kiss him back and his lips leave hers, though he doesn't move away. Their breath mixes in the space between them and April closes her eyes for a moment, trying to breathe normally.
The rational, practical part of her mind is screaming at her to stop this, to push him away and tell him to leave, telling her that she doesn't want this, that she shouldn't want this. But he's here, so close and so warm, and the part of her that's been sleeping alone in a cold, empty bed for the past six months wants this very much.
Her hand rises to his chest and her breath leaves her in a whoosh, her heart pounding so hard she feels it may burst. Her hand slides slowly to his shoulder and she bunches the fabric of his shirt in her fingers, dimly aware of his hand on her hip, slowly creeping under her shirt. His fingers brush against her skin and she takes in a soft, shaky breath, her eyes fluttering open and meeting his.
There's the tiniest of pauses, the last chance for them to stop, and then her hand moves to the back of his neck and she closes the space between them, her lips crashing on his as she presses herself against him.
His fingers grip the edge of her shirt and the kiss breaks as he tugs it off over her head and then his lips are on hers again, rough and insistent. His fingers dig into her flesh as he grips her waist, pulling her against him again, and she grabs the front of his shirt, her feet finding their way around the chair as she begins to pull him towards the downstairs guest room. She can't bring herself to take him upstairs, can't bear the thought of making this mistake in the bed she once shared with Sam.
She fumbles the door open and Evan pushes her inside, his arms around her waist, hands rising to the hooks of her bra. He pulls the garment from her body and she drops onto the bed, leaning back to undo the fastenings on her jeans as he tugs his shirt off. His pants follow soon after and he bends down to pull her jeans from her legs.
He leans forward and captures her lips again, pushing her back and following her progress up the bed. He hooks his fingers over the sides of her panties and yanks them down, tearing the side seam with an audible ripping sound as he pulls them from her legs.
He grips her thigh, pushing her legs further apart and hooking her leg over his arm as he pushes into her, making her gasp as she grips his arms.
He sets a fast pace, thrusting hard and making her fingers tighten on his arms. It's almost too much for her but she doesn't want him to stop, wants it to hurt a little to remind her how much of a mistake this is, how wrong it is for this to be happening.
She closes her eyes, unable to look at him, and then memories of Sam rise unbidden in her mind, memories of his smile and his laugh and the way he said her name, all of the different ways he used to kiss her, the ways he used to make love to her. Tears fill her eyes unexpectedly and she places a hand over her face, even as she continues to tightly grip Evan's arm, her heel pressing against his back.
She feels his pace slow and she opens her eyes to see him staring down at her, his own eyes shining brightly. Concern and something else she can't quite place are etched in his features, and she knows he's thinking of Penny.
She shakes her head and raises her hand to the back of his neck, tugging him down and kissing him hungrily, digging her heel into his back and urging him to continue.
He resumes his pace and it's not long before he pushes her over the edge, neither of them surprised when someone else's name escapes her lips as she tightens around him.
A few more quick thrusts bring his end a moment later and he slumps down on top of her, his breath hot on her neck as he murmurs someone else's name against her skin.
For a long while the only sound in the room is their breathing, and then there's a soft rustle of sheets as Evan pushes himself up.
He looks at April for a moment and raises a hesitant hand to her hair, pushing it from her face before resting his forehead against hers. They share a breath and a heartbeat later she can feel his tears falling to her cheeks, mixing with her own and sliding along her skin.
"I'm sorry," he whispers, the words catching slightly in his throat.
"I know," she whispers back, placing her hand on the back of his neck and gently stroking his hair. "So am I."
They lay quietly for a few minutes more and then Evan shifts over, moving to sit on the edge of the bed.
"I should - I should go," he says quietly, though he doesn't immediately move.
April looks at his back for a moment before turning her gaze to the ceiling, her tears rising again until she covers her eyes with her hand. She takes a breath and then looks back at Evan, reaching over and placing her hand lightly on his back.
"Will you -" she starts, and then stops, unable to quite get the words out.
Evan turns to look at her and she stares at him, her eyebrows knitting together as she tries desperately to keep from breaking down completely.
"Will you - will you stay?" she finally says in a small voice. "Just - just stay with me?"
Evan looks at her for another moment and then stands, turning towards the bed and reaching to tug the covers down. He gestures for her to do the same and she shifts, pushing the sheets down and slipping underneath.
He slides in beside her and she curls against his side, closing her eyes as he slips his arm around her. She rests her hand on his chest and his fingers curl around hers, his thumb sweeping lightly over her skin.
She feels like she wants to say something, to thank him or maybe apologize again, but as she takes a breath to speak, Evan's arm tightens around her and she feels his lips on the top of her head.
"It's okay," he murmurs, gently squeezing her fingers. Her tears spill over, warm on her cheeks and dropping to his chest, and he holds her closer. "It's okay."