Looking For A Fight
Rating: R for language, adult content
Summary: My take on lvsinsanity's request - an unhappy breakup.
Washington walked in without a word and sat down. He looked up at the other man and laid his pistol carefully in the middle of the table. "Let's talk."
Maine froze for a moment, his mind racing with a thousand possible outcomes to this scenario. Taking a slow breath, he gulped down the rest of his drink and turned to face Wash. "Alright." He crossed the room and sat opposite Wash, turning the chair backwards to straddle it and rest his forearms on the back. "What do you want to talk about?"
"You. Me, us.." Wash waved his hand vaguely in the air. "How about let's start with what the fuck is going on?"
Maine shrugged. "Nothing."
"Damn right, 'nothing'," Wash countered. "You act like I'm carrying a fucking plague. You haven't talked to me in months..."
He had known this was going to happen eventually, but he had hoped to avoid it for as long as possible. Maine pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. Words he did not want to say, but needed to say, jumbled on his tongue as he tried to find the right words. After several false starts under the piercing gaze of Wash, he at last managed, "You... you changed. You're different..."
The edge of Wash's mouth curl up in scorn. "I changed?"
'Why is he doing this? To me, to himself?' Maine set his jaw and said nothing.
"So that's it. You take the easy way out." He let out a soft snort and looked away in disgust. "I should have known."
"Easy?" Maine spat. "Easy? You fucking, self-centered bastard, you think this was easy for me?"
"Oh, that's right," Wash mocked. "I'm the bastard. I'm the one who decided to quit when things got hard."
"That's not what happened-"
"Yes it is. That's how it always is, you quit when it gets hard. You've never stuck it out for anything in your life, have you?"
"Hey!" Maine snapped. Washington always did know how to push his buttons, and he was doing a bang-up job just now. "Stop putting this all on me. You are the one who went fuckin' psycho on me!"
And Maine was just as good at pushing Wash's buttons right back. He was so angry his voice shook. "I did not go crazy. Epsilon-"
"Epsilon? Fuck Epsilon! I'm sick of that excuse!" Maine yelled, standing up and flinging the chair into the wall before leaning over the table. "You blame everything on him because it'd be a cold day in hell before you took responsibility for anything, wouldn't it?"
"Don't you dare-"
"Oh, I sure as shit will dare!" Maine said, no longer yelling but no less angry. "You didn't come here to talk. You came here looking for a fight, and that's exactly what you got!" Maine grabbed the pistol off the table and in two smooth motions had dropped the clip and cleared the chamber, then let the gun clatter to the floor. "You've been looking for a fight with everyone and everything since they took Epsilon out! What are you doing, Wash? God dammit, what are you thinking?"
Wash tried to come up with anything to counter, but each time the excuse slipped away from him. Maine waited for a few breaths, then slowly moved around the table. He took hold of Wash's shoulders, turning the other to face him. He tipped his head up to look into his soft brown eyes and couldn't deny how much he still wanted him. When he spoke next, his voice was soft, calm. That of a lover. "What are you doing, David?"
He flinched away at the use of that name, too familiar from Maine's lips. He pushed his hand away and let his face drop again. He couldn't look at him. "Don't do this to me," he whispered. "Just... give me some time."
"I tried," Maine said. He waited a breath, then put his hand on Wash's head, stroking his hair slightly. "God knows I tried."
"I- " Wash struggled for words, grasping for anything to hold to. "I'll get better, I swear I-"
"You're not getting better, Wash," Maine said. It tore at him, but he just couldn't live like this anymore. "You don't even talk to the counselor anymore, you barely talked to me! You shut me out a long time ago."
Washington leaned forward and rested his head against his hands, his elbows propped on his knees. He ached inside. He had lost everything, his position, his AI, and now he was losing Maine, too. What was left?
Maine knelt down and tipped his head up, finding his way into those brown eyes once again. "I would have done anything for you. Why did you stop coming to me? Why didn't you let me help you?"
He wanted to look away again, unable to stand the firm, unwavering gaze. He closed his eyes. "Because there was nothing you could have done," he whispered. He swallowed down the lump that had formed in his throat and pressed on. "Because... "
Wash let his voice trail off but Maine was not about to let him stop now. This was the most they had said to one another in over a month. He stroked Wash's face, coaxing him gently to keep going.
"Because I didn't want to drag you down with me." There. He had said it at last; finally admitted it. Admitted it to Maine, to himself.
Love and longing finally won out over reason and Maine couldn't stop himself. He leaned in and pressed soft kisses to Wash's mouth - wishing, hoping that things could go back to the way they had been. He ached over the emptiness in his bed, the emptiness of his arms. Maybe Wash was right, maybe he had given up too easily.
He felt his kisses returned, a hand slip behind his head and pull him closer. How long had it been? He couldn't even remember the last time he had felt Wash's hands on his body, slipping under his shirt, pulling them together. His heart sped up and his pants were becoming uncomfortably tight.
Maine rose, prompting Wash to come with him, stumbling through the fog of their emotions as anger, love and lust all collided together. Their kisses became more forceful, urgent. Maine pinned Wash against the wall, ripping his shirt slightly as he pulled it off. He forced Wash's legs apart with his own, felt his lover's desire grind into his hip as he pulled him off the wall again and towards the bed.
The rest of their clothes were soon discarded, heaped on the floor beside the bed. Groans of passion too long denied needed no coaxing. Words were abandoned, actions were all they needed to speak their minds to one another.
In the end, both lay exhausted, wrapped up in one another as they fought to catch their breath. Maine could barely keep his eyes open, could barely move a muscle. He contented himself with kissing the small patch of Wash's chest that his mouth could reach, over and over. "God, I missed this. Missed you."
Wash's right hand was curling in Maine's hair, his other wrapped over his shoulder and down his back. He said nothing, just laying there and soaking it in. It did not take long before both Agents were fast asleep.
***
Maine gave a small hum of contentment as he began to wake up, a smile already on his lips. He hadn't realized just how lonely he had been until... He froze and opened his eyes, the smile fading. He was alone.
Sitting up, he looked around, seeing Wash's clothes gone. He knew it hadn't been a dream. "Meeting, maybe?" He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to banish the sleep from his eyes. He went to lay back down and heard the crinkle of paper beneath him. Lifting the page off the pillow, he felt his heart sink.
You were right. I shut you out a long time ago.
I'm sorry.
-Wash
Maine crumpled the paper in his fist as he fought the welling of grief inside. He let the paper fall to the ground and covered his face, unable to deny his tears.
Summary: My take on lvsinsanity's request - an unhappy breakup.
Washington walked in without a word and sat down. He looked up at the other man and laid his pistol carefully in the middle of the table. "Let's talk."
Maine froze for a moment, his mind racing with a thousand possible outcomes to this scenario. Taking a slow breath, he gulped down the rest of his drink and turned to face Wash. "Alright." He crossed the room and sat opposite Wash, turning the chair backwards to straddle it and rest his forearms on the back. "What do you want to talk about?"
"You. Me, us.." Wash waved his hand vaguely in the air. "How about let's start with what the fuck is going on?"
Maine shrugged. "Nothing."
"Damn right, 'nothing'," Wash countered. "You act like I'm carrying a fucking plague. You haven't talked to me in months..."
He had known this was going to happen eventually, but he had hoped to avoid it for as long as possible. Maine pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. Words he did not want to say, but needed to say, jumbled on his tongue as he tried to find the right words. After several false starts under the piercing gaze of Wash, he at last managed, "You... you changed. You're different..."
The edge of Wash's mouth curl up in scorn. "I changed?"
'Why is he doing this? To me, to himself?' Maine set his jaw and said nothing.
"So that's it. You take the easy way out." He let out a soft snort and looked away in disgust. "I should have known."
"Easy?" Maine spat. "Easy? You fucking, self-centered bastard, you think this was easy for me?"
"Oh, that's right," Wash mocked. "I'm the bastard. I'm the one who decided to quit when things got hard."
"That's not what happened-"
"Yes it is. That's how it always is, you quit when it gets hard. You've never stuck it out for anything in your life, have you?"
"Hey!" Maine snapped. Washington always did know how to push his buttons, and he was doing a bang-up job just now. "Stop putting this all on me. You are the one who went fuckin' psycho on me!"
And Maine was just as good at pushing Wash's buttons right back. He was so angry his voice shook. "I did not go crazy. Epsilon-"
"Epsilon? Fuck Epsilon! I'm sick of that excuse!" Maine yelled, standing up and flinging the chair into the wall before leaning over the table. "You blame everything on him because it'd be a cold day in hell before you took responsibility for anything, wouldn't it?"
"Don't you dare-"
"Oh, I sure as shit will dare!" Maine said, no longer yelling but no less angry. "You didn't come here to talk. You came here looking for a fight, and that's exactly what you got!" Maine grabbed the pistol off the table and in two smooth motions had dropped the clip and cleared the chamber, then let the gun clatter to the floor. "You've been looking for a fight with everyone and everything since they took Epsilon out! What are you doing, Wash? God dammit, what are you thinking?"
Wash tried to come up with anything to counter, but each time the excuse slipped away from him. Maine waited for a few breaths, then slowly moved around the table. He took hold of Wash's shoulders, turning the other to face him. He tipped his head up to look into his soft brown eyes and couldn't deny how much he still wanted him. When he spoke next, his voice was soft, calm. That of a lover. "What are you doing, David?"
He flinched away at the use of that name, too familiar from Maine's lips. He pushed his hand away and let his face drop again. He couldn't look at him. "Don't do this to me," he whispered. "Just... give me some time."
"I tried," Maine said. He waited a breath, then put his hand on Wash's head, stroking his hair slightly. "God knows I tried."
"I- " Wash struggled for words, grasping for anything to hold to. "I'll get better, I swear I-"
"You're not getting better, Wash," Maine said. It tore at him, but he just couldn't live like this anymore. "You don't even talk to the counselor anymore, you barely talked to me! You shut me out a long time ago."
Washington leaned forward and rested his head against his hands, his elbows propped on his knees. He ached inside. He had lost everything, his position, his AI, and now he was losing Maine, too. What was left?
Maine knelt down and tipped his head up, finding his way into those brown eyes once again. "I would have done anything for you. Why did you stop coming to me? Why didn't you let me help you?"
He wanted to look away again, unable to stand the firm, unwavering gaze. He closed his eyes. "Because there was nothing you could have done," he whispered. He swallowed down the lump that had formed in his throat and pressed on. "Because... "
Wash let his voice trail off but Maine was not about to let him stop now. This was the most they had said to one another in over a month. He stroked Wash's face, coaxing him gently to keep going.
"Because I didn't want to drag you down with me." There. He had said it at last; finally admitted it. Admitted it to Maine, to himself.
Love and longing finally won out over reason and Maine couldn't stop himself. He leaned in and pressed soft kisses to Wash's mouth - wishing, hoping that things could go back to the way they had been. He ached over the emptiness in his bed, the emptiness of his arms. Maybe Wash was right, maybe he had given up too easily.
He felt his kisses returned, a hand slip behind his head and pull him closer. How long had it been? He couldn't even remember the last time he had felt Wash's hands on his body, slipping under his shirt, pulling them together. His heart sped up and his pants were becoming uncomfortably tight.
Maine rose, prompting Wash to come with him, stumbling through the fog of their emotions as anger, love and lust all collided together. Their kisses became more forceful, urgent. Maine pinned Wash against the wall, ripping his shirt slightly as he pulled it off. He forced Wash's legs apart with his own, felt his lover's desire grind into his hip as he pulled him off the wall again and towards the bed.
The rest of their clothes were soon discarded, heaped on the floor beside the bed. Groans of passion too long denied needed no coaxing. Words were abandoned, actions were all they needed to speak their minds to one another.
In the end, both lay exhausted, wrapped up in one another as they fought to catch their breath. Maine could barely keep his eyes open, could barely move a muscle. He contented himself with kissing the small patch of Wash's chest that his mouth could reach, over and over. "God, I missed this. Missed you."
Wash's right hand was curling in Maine's hair, his other wrapped over his shoulder and down his back. He said nothing, just laying there and soaking it in. It did not take long before both Agents were fast asleep.
***
Maine gave a small hum of contentment as he began to wake up, a smile already on his lips. He hadn't realized just how lonely he had been until... He froze and opened his eyes, the smile fading. He was alone.
Sitting up, he looked around, seeing Wash's clothes gone. He knew it hadn't been a dream. "Meeting, maybe?" He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to banish the sleep from his eyes. He went to lay back down and heard the crinkle of paper beneath him. Lifting the page off the pillow, he felt his heart sink.
You were right. I shut you out a long time ago.
I'm sorry.
-Wash
Maine crumpled the paper in his fist as he fought the welling of grief inside. He let the paper fall to the ground and covered his face, unable to deny his tears.