"Well... looks like we wasted a few minutes with that. How much time we got left, Boss?"
My eyes slid over to Faith, whose voice was as nonchalant as could possibly expected, given what had just occured in the restroom. I could tell, though, that the casualness was at least partly feigned. Faith knew just as well as I did that there was a strange and confusing dynamic tying us together, and I doubted either of us knew very well how to handle it.
Smarter people than we were-- the kind of person I thought I was supposed to be-- would have distanced themselves from that dynamic. I should just be her Watcher, her tutor, sometimes her guardian and possibly her friend. I should never have done anything or allowed anything to happen that would go beyond those bounds.
I nodded and opened my eyes finally, trying to fucking move in my seat but wincing slightly everytime my ass touched it. "Well... looks like we missed the in-flight movie. Hope I get my peanuts, at least."
"How're you feeling?"
Oh, fuck you, asshole. How the fuck do you think I'm feeling? Confused, bruised, like everything's all gone to hell and back. Bet he was getting hard again just watching me squirm in my seat trying to find a way to sit that didn't hurt...
"Saw you watching me in the mirror, Wes," I said instead, not looking at him. If I looked at him, it'd be over, and we both fucking knew that. I couldn't lie, couldn't fucking hide from him somehow when I looked at him.
"You got off on it. On me." I paused. "On me... cryingI wasn't sure how I was supposed to feel about that. Hurt? Pissed-off? Turned-on? I think I was a little of all of it... but I didn't wanna tell him that. No fucking way... make him talk to me, first for a change
( ... )
Faith wouldn't look at me, and my immediate reaction was actually split. A part of me scoffed at the idea, wondering just how it could be so hard to look a person in the face who five minutes ago you were begging to put his cock in your ass.
But another part of me understood. It was never simple between us. Never just about sex or just about guilt or just about pain. It was always everything all at once. All of ourselves, constantly shifting between connecting and conflicting, often both at once.
"Saw you watching me in the mirror, Wes... You got off on it. On me... On me... crying."Her voice was even, careful, and quiet. I had no idea how to take the words, whether they were angry or hurt or confused. They simply sounded like a statement of fact, and it was a fact we both knew as the truth. That much was clear, at least
( ... )
Had a feeling he wasn't looking at me, either, but I wasn't about to turn around and fucking check. So I waited... seemed like forever before he answered me.
"I did."
I nodded. "I know," I replied, not accusing or nothing, just saying. Guess I sorta wanted to hear the why part of it all, though.
"It was beautiful. Because... because it was really you."
I frowned and turned to finally look at him, and thank fucking God he wasn't looking back. "What?" Beautiful? What the hell was that supposed to mean? I'm beautiful when he hurts me? I was stupid and vulnerable and shit, and he got off on me being the damsel for him?
"I'm not making any sense."
"No, Wes, you're not," I said, trying to figure him out - but that was something I figured would never happen in a million years. "Look, I'm... I'm not sure even what happened there, ok? Yeah, I got off on it all too, so don't go beating yourself up over it." Which was probably what he was doing right fcking now anywaysI ran a hand through my hair to smooth it all out. Still probably looked
( ... )
My question, as well, Faith. Don't ask me to explain, because I don't think I can. You and I both know how deep and labyrinthine the space between us is, and how little either one of us knows about it, let alone having the ability to navigate it.
"No, Wes, you're not."
I shrugged, a somewhat pointless gesture, considering the fact that neither of us was looking at the other, but there wasn't anything I could really think of to say.
"I wish I could make sense. Then I might understand things myself."
"Look, I'm... I'm not sure even what happened there, ok? Yeah, I got off on it all too, so don't go beating yourself up over it."
A wry, bitter smile came to my face and I was finally able to turn my head to glance Faith's way. She was still staring straight ahead, her face obscured by the tousled fall of her dark brown hair.
"You and I both know me well enough to know that is inevitable. But I appreciate the suggestion
( ... )
"You and I both know me well enough to know that is inevitable. But I appreciate the suggestion."
I sighed. Hey, I tried, I fucking tried. "Fine, Wes, go kick yourself for all that, then. But just between you and me? When you get scary and shit? You're fucking hot, so just... shut up."
Someone better make me shut up too, since once again, I was way too much with the talking. I wondered if what I'd said to him made any sorta sense.
"They are a part of me. They're part of who I am now, the man I've become."
"Well, yeah," I agreed. "Shit like that's bound to change us." Fuck, I needed another drink or a cig, and fast. "Order me up something to kill my talking. Vodka, anything."
I let my head rest on the seat and tried to think of us - cuz hey, I wasn't that stupid to realize that there wasn't an 'us' by now - and... I dunno. It was like we were both so hurt by what the other one had done to us, but it had changed us both. For the better... I think. Yeah, we were all pulling for the good guys now, but it didn't necessarily make us
( ... )
"Fine, Wes, go kick yourself for all that, then. But just between you and me? When you get scary and shit? You're fucking hot, so just... shut up."
I opened my mouth, then closed it. It wasn't much of a secret that I was quite the expert at self-abuse and beating myself up about damn near anything that I felt I'd done wrong. Faith had also made it clear that she wanted nothing to do with it, and was consistently frustrated and infuriated by it.
"Well, yeah... Shit like that's bound to change us. Order me up something to kill my talking. Vodka, anything."
I touched the call button for the flight attendant, who, coming from the rear service area, gave both of us quite a look before allowing herself to be convinced to serve us one more drink. Once the miniscule vodka bottles arrived, and we were alone again, and with the alcohol and a bit of a breather, it did seem that the mood lightened just a touch.
"I like you this way, Wes, even if I can't really figure you out. So... don't bother trying to change back to wussy-Watcher-guy
( ... )
My eyes slid over to Faith, whose voice was as nonchalant as could possibly expected, given what had just occured in the restroom. I could tell, though, that the casualness was at least partly feigned. Faith knew just as well as I did that there was a strange and confusing dynamic tying us together, and I doubted either of us knew very well how to handle it.
Smarter people than we were-- the kind of person I thought I was supposed to be-- would have distanced themselves from that dynamic. I should just be her Watcher, her tutor, sometimes her guardian and possibly her friend. I should never have done anything or allowed anything to happen that would go beyond those bounds.
I should have known better ( ... )
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I nodded and opened my eyes finally, trying to fucking move in my seat but wincing slightly everytime my ass touched it. "Well... looks like we missed the in-flight movie. Hope I get my peanuts, at least."
"How're you feeling?"
Oh, fuck you, asshole. How the fuck do you think I'm feeling? Confused, bruised, like everything's all gone to hell and back. Bet he was getting hard again just watching me squirm in my seat trying to find a way to sit that didn't hurt...
"Saw you watching me in the mirror, Wes," I said instead, not looking at him. If I looked at him, it'd be over, and we both fucking knew that. I couldn't lie, couldn't fucking hide from him somehow when I looked at him.
"You got off on it. On me." I paused. "On me... cryingI wasn't sure how I was supposed to feel about that. Hurt? Pissed-off? Turned-on? I think I was a little of all of it... but I didn't wanna tell him that. No fucking way... make him talk to me, first for a change ( ... )
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But another part of me understood. It was never simple between us. Never just about sex or just about guilt or just about pain. It was always everything all at once. All of ourselves, constantly shifting between connecting and conflicting, often both at once.
"Saw you watching me in the mirror, Wes... You got off on it. On me... On me... crying."Her voice was even, careful, and quiet. I had no idea how to take the words, whether they were angry or hurt or confused. They simply sounded like a statement of fact, and it was a fact we both knew as the truth. That much was clear, at least ( ... )
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"I did."
I nodded. "I know," I replied, not accusing or nothing, just saying. Guess I sorta wanted to hear the why part of it all, though.
"It was beautiful. Because... because it was really you."
I frowned and turned to finally look at him, and thank fucking God he wasn't looking back. "What?" Beautiful? What the hell was that supposed to mean? I'm beautiful when he hurts me? I was stupid and vulnerable and shit, and he got off on me being the damsel for him?
"I'm not making any sense."
"No, Wes, you're not," I said, trying to figure him out - but that was something I figured would never happen in a million years. "Look, I'm... I'm not sure even what happened there, ok? Yeah, I got off on it all too, so don't go beating yourself up over it." Which was probably what he was doing right fcking now anywaysI ran a hand through my hair to smooth it all out. Still probably looked ( ... )
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My question, as well, Faith. Don't ask me to explain, because I don't think I can. You and I both know how deep and labyrinthine the space between us is, and how little either one of us knows about it, let alone having the ability to navigate it.
"No, Wes, you're not."
I shrugged, a somewhat pointless gesture, considering the fact that neither of us was looking at the other, but there wasn't anything I could really think of to say.
"I wish I could make sense. Then I might understand things myself."
"Look, I'm... I'm not sure even what happened there, ok? Yeah, I got off on it all too, so don't go beating yourself up over it."
A wry, bitter smile came to my face and I was finally able to turn my head to glance Faith's way. She was still staring straight ahead, her face obscured by the tousled fall of her dark brown hair.
"You and I both know me well enough to know that is inevitable. But I appreciate the suggestion ( ... )
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I sighed. Hey, I tried, I fucking tried. "Fine, Wes, go kick yourself for all that, then. But just between you and me? When you get scary and shit? You're fucking hot, so just... shut up."
Someone better make me shut up too, since once again, I was way too much with the talking. I wondered if what I'd said to him made any sorta sense.
"They are a part of me. They're part of who I am now, the man I've become."
"Well, yeah," I agreed. "Shit like that's bound to change us." Fuck, I needed another drink or a cig, and fast. "Order me up something to kill my talking. Vodka, anything."
I let my head rest on the seat and tried to think of us - cuz hey, I wasn't that stupid to realize that there wasn't an 'us' by now - and... I dunno. It was like we were both so hurt by what the other one had done to us, but it had changed us both. For the better... I think. Yeah, we were all pulling for the good guys now, but it didn't necessarily make us ( ... )
Reply
I opened my mouth, then closed it. It wasn't much of a secret that I was quite the expert at self-abuse and beating myself up about damn near anything that I felt I'd done wrong. Faith had also made it clear that she wanted nothing to do with it, and was consistently frustrated and infuriated by it.
"Well, yeah... Shit like that's bound to change us. Order me up something to kill my talking. Vodka, anything."
I touched the call button for the flight attendant, who, coming from the rear service area, gave both of us quite a look before allowing herself to be convinced to serve us one more drink. Once the miniscule vodka bottles arrived, and we were alone again, and with the alcohol and a bit of a breather, it did seem that the mood lightened just a touch.
"I like you this way, Wes, even if I can't really figure you out. So... don't bother trying to change back to wussy-Watcher-guy ( ... )
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