Easier To Run - 3/8
Title: Easier To Run - 3/8
Author & Beta: Shadowfax27
Fandom: CSI: Miami
Pairing: Ryan Wolfe/Eric Delko
Category: Angst, Drama, Major AU
Fic Rating: NC-17 - for violence, lots of foul language, and some smut - You’ve been warned!
Chapter Rating: NC-17 or M for lots of foul language, violence, and rough sex
Spoilers: Mild references to S5 episode, “Burned”. And for the sake of this story, let’s pretend the “We, Mr. Wolfe, are not going to abandon you” part that Horatio said to Ryan at the end of “Kill Switch” didn’t happen. Savvy?
Disclaimer: Don’t be silly… I own the Penguins, not the show.
Summary: AU after “Burned”. What if Ryan never got his job back after he got fired?
A/N: Inspired by the lyrics to the song, “Easier To Run” by Linkin Park.
Written Entirely For:
persikay
-----
Chapter 3 - Cold And Out Of Breath
It's easier to run
Replacing this pain with something numb
It's so much easier to go
Than face all this pain here all alone
But Eric would have none of it. And if there was one thing Eric hated during a fight or an argument, it was people turning their backs on him and walking away. He was not going to be ignored.
Especially not by Ryan Wolfe.
“Don’t you turn your back on me, Wolfe!” he nearly shouted, stalking over to grab his arm. “We’re not finished, and I want -”
An arm suddenly swooshed past him, and Eric ducked just in time to avoid getting his jaw broken. His instincts took over, then, and before he could think clearly, he was charging and tackling Ryan back to the opposite wall with a back-breaking thud, knocking the breath out of him, before grabbing the younger man by his shirt and pinning him on the spot.
“What the hell was that?!” Eric shouted, enraged.
“Fuck off, Delko!” Ryan roared back, even as he struggled to catch his breath. “I don’t…need…this shit…from you right…now!”
“That’s right. You don’t need this shit because you’re already too deep in one!” Eric spat.
“FUCK YOU!” Ryan bellowed, anger pouring out of every pore in his body.
Bringing his face just inches from Ryan’s, Eric hissed menacingly, “With pleasure.”
---
He leaned in and crushed his lips against the shorter man’s, and there was nothing romantic or sweet about the kiss. He dominated every bit of the exchange, keeping the pace fierce and angry and brutal to a punishing point, stealing the fight away from Ryan.
And when he finally released his mouth, he didn’t ease his hold on his shirt but half-dragged and half-pushed Ryan backwards towards the dining room until the backs of his thighs roughly hit the edge of the dinner table and his back thudded flat against its smooth mahogany surface.
Still too shocked and a bit winded from their previous exchange, Ryan could do nothing but watch as Eric began to undo his own belt, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants soon after. It was only when Eric let both pieces of fabric fall around his ankles did Ryan see how terribly aroused Eric had gotten.
“Eric…” Ryan gasped helplessly, not knowing whether to beg Eric to stop or to continue.
“Shut up,” Eric hissed as he started to work on Ryan’s jeans.
“Please…”
Grunting, Eric roughly tugged at his jeans and boxers. He pulled them down towards his ankles before grabbing Ryan by his shirt once more. And with more force than was necessary, Eric pulled him off the table just enough to forcefully flip him around so that his back was against his chest.
“Is this what you want, Wolfe?” Eric sneered in a sinister way against his ear before grabbing the back of Ryan’s neck and pushing his head face down, holding it against the table. “Is this how you want it done?”
“Fuck you!” Ryan cursed through gritted teeth, even as he heard the Cuban spit and then felt a warm wetness coat him from behind.
He trembled from the sensation.
“No… Fuck you, Wolfe!” Eric shot back as he took Ryan against the dining room table, his hand steadily pushing down on the back of his neck as the other gripped his hip to a bruise. “Fuck you!” he groaned as he entered him forcefully with one stroke, tearing a stifled moan out of the younger man’s throat.
He held on tighter and leaned down, his chest pressing against Ryan’s shirt-clad back, his mouth smearing words of lust and hurt and anger into his left ear, spurred on by the half-strangled gasps and moans that were bleeding out of Ryan’s mouth.
“Fuck you, Ryan…” Eric’s voice was somewhere between a labored whisper and a groan. “Fuck you…” he cursed, reciting the bitter phrase over and over again like a prayer, as if it would deliver him from the turmoil of emotions he was feeling right then and there. “Fuck you…”
He would curse and thrust. Curse and thrust. Every blow was delivered to punctuate each curse with an angry thrust of his hips, plunging into Ryan deeply, impaling him, owning him… reproving him for his foolishness, punishing him for doing something so monumentally stupid.
“Fuck you… Fuck you… Fuck you…”
He was close now.
So near to losing everything - so very close to losing control.
He picked up the pace and pummeled into Ryan savagely, not bothering to curse anymore. Instead, he focused all of his anger and lust into the task until his vision started to gray around the edges, and everything became too much. And the next thing he knew, his teeth were sinking fiercely onto Ryan’s shoulder, biting him as he groaned out his pleasure, digging his nails against a pale hip, and coming so hard and fast that it made his entire body shudder like he’d never felt before.
He heard Ryan’s muffled cry soon after as his own orgasm took him over like a storm, but he dared not look at his lover’s face anymore. He didn’t think he could carry on with his anger if his eyes were to behold Ryan’s again.
He allowed his own tremors to subside as he tucked his forehead against the former CSI’s back, hiding his face in the process. And when he felt like he had control of his body again, and without so much as a word, Eric pulled out abruptly and began cleaning up, Ryan following suit a moment later.
The air thundered with silence between them once more, save for the sounds made by their movements as they reoriented themselves and started to dress.
“Eric,” Ryan started to say, “I…” but he was cut off before he could finish.
“No. Just… Stop,” Eric’s voice was firm, cold, and he avoided Ryan’s beseeching gaze even as he was zipping up his pants, straightening his shirt. “I don’t want to know, Ryan. I don’t want to hear it.”
“So, what? That’s it? You’re just gonna leave now after all this?”
Ryan’s voice was incredulous, and Eric had to fight the urge to face him. He knew that he’d break down and give in if he were to gaze into those hazel greens. He knew he wouldn’t be able to resist.
Sighing, he shook his head, still avoiding eye contact, “Well, that’s what you wanted before, wasn’t it? You wanted me to get the fuck out of here so, yeah…”
He shrugged, and Ryan didn’t know what to say to that. He opened his mouth to speak then closed it; opened his mouth again but no words would come out. He breathed a resigned sigh, knowing that it would be pointless to argue back.
“Look… I just need to be alone right now. Okay? I need time to think,” Eric replied, trying to find any excuse he could find.
“About what?”
“You… Everything…” he told him flatly.
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
Ryan was getting angry again. He could sense the panic welling up inside. He had that dreadful feeling like he was about to be let go, disposed of, abandoned by the one person he loved the most. He had to fight hard to restrain himself. It took all of his willpower not to grab the taller man again, shove him hard against the wall, and make him explain his nonsense.
But Eric held his stubborn ground and simply shook his head, acting like this was no big deal and that Ryan was being ridiculous to worry, that he was somehow overreacting.
“Nothing… It doesn’t have to mean anything, Ryan. Like I told you… I just need some time to myself, okay?”
Still too staggered, Ryan could only nod dumbly at that. Somehow, he knew that this was it, that this was the end of them as they knew it. Eric might not have known, but at that moment, Ryan certainly did.
That same dreadful feeling that had been creeping up his spine had warned him that something wasn’t right, and he wasn’t going to lie anymore just to protect himself from the encroaching heartache; he wasn’t going to try to deny the pain any longer. He knew it would be futile to think otherwise. Because Eric was leaving. That much he knew for certain. And he wasn’t about to turn a blind eye to the consequences of such a selfish act.
He knew it was over between them.
And he knew that things would never be the same again.
The coldness with which the Cuban had spoken to him was proof enough. It was just ironic to him how it was almost too easy for both of them to just give up, particularly at a time when they should be standing side by side and fighting for each other, instead of with each other.
“No, he’s giving up first…” Ryan thought dimly. “It’s easier when he’s the first to run.”
His chest was suddenly aching. With every intake of air, he was finding it more and more difficult to breathe as the full force of that thought hit him like a storm. He could feel his heart thundering, crashing… splintering into a thousand angry little pieces right at that moment, powerless as it breaks in muted suffering.
And Eric would never know about it.
It was pure torture to bite his tongue, to keep silent about the many things he could say to defend himself, to make himself appear at least half right. He wanted so much to beg the Cuban to stay and to listen to his rebuttal once more, to give his side of things one more go at an explanation. He wanted to parry back and get the last word in.
But he decided right then and there that he was tired of fighting with Eric. He was tired of being the fool in this relationship.
Tired of being the fool.
Period.
No, he would keep everything to himself.
He would hide his anger and embrace the feeling of being disapproved of, of feeling like a castaway, a failure - an embarrassing disappointment to the team.
And then he would bury the pain.
He would hold on to that gut-wrenching feeling of being alone, abandoned, and even betrayed, and he would let that carry him through. He would let those feeling wash over him so that he’d have a crutch, so to speak - a reason to turn his back on this fight and leave without regrets.
That was how he was going to try to be strong: he won’t let himself appear weak, even if it hurt him like a bitch.
“I’m sorry…” Eric finally mumbled under his breath, still avoiding Ryan’s gaze.
It was more like a careless afterthought, however, devoid of any real meaning. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was sorry about or if he even meant it as an apology.
But he figured that it wasn’t like he was the one at fault here. Really, it was Ryan who should be apologizing to him for getting himself into this shit of a predicament. He only said what he said because it just felt like the right thing to say at the time (and because he didn’t know what else to say)… even though he felt nothing resembling an act of contrition behind those words.
He could feel Ryan’s eyes upon him, watching his every move the way a predator might study its prey. It was beginning to unnerve him, to be honest. And yet still, Eric dared not meet those inquisitive eyes.
He didn’t want to look.
He just… couldn’t.
Not right now.
And finally, with the last of his clothes on, Eric took in a tremulous breath, headed for the door, and opened it quickly. And then with one determined foot right after the other, he stepped out, slammed the front door shut, and then… left.
Abruptly.
Suddenly.
He left and didn’t bother to look back.
He left and allowed his stubborn pride to take over.
He left…
And he’d never know how Ryan crumbled to his knees and cried.
---
TBC
A/N: I know, I know… smutty but sad. *passes box of tissues* What can I say? It’s what the Penguins wanted.
Author & Beta: Shadowfax27
Fandom: CSI: Miami
Pairing: Ryan Wolfe/Eric Delko
Category: Angst, Drama, Major AU
Fic Rating: NC-17 - for violence, lots of foul language, and some smut - You’ve been warned!
Chapter Rating: NC-17 or M for lots of foul language, violence, and rough sex
Spoilers: Mild references to S5 episode, “Burned”. And for the sake of this story, let’s pretend the “We, Mr. Wolfe, are not going to abandon you” part that Horatio said to Ryan at the end of “Kill Switch” didn’t happen. Savvy?
Disclaimer: Don’t be silly… I own the Penguins, not the show.
Summary: AU after “Burned”. What if Ryan never got his job back after he got fired?
A/N: Inspired by the lyrics to the song, “Easier To Run” by Linkin Park.
Written Entirely For:
persikay
-----
Chapter 3 - Cold And Out Of Breath
It's easier to run
Replacing this pain with something numb
It's so much easier to go
Than face all this pain here all alone
But Eric would have none of it. And if there was one thing Eric hated during a fight or an argument, it was people turning their backs on him and walking away. He was not going to be ignored.
Especially not by Ryan Wolfe.
“Don’t you turn your back on me, Wolfe!” he nearly shouted, stalking over to grab his arm. “We’re not finished, and I want -”
An arm suddenly swooshed past him, and Eric ducked just in time to avoid getting his jaw broken. His instincts took over, then, and before he could think clearly, he was charging and tackling Ryan back to the opposite wall with a back-breaking thud, knocking the breath out of him, before grabbing the younger man by his shirt and pinning him on the spot.
“What the hell was that?!” Eric shouted, enraged.
“Fuck off, Delko!” Ryan roared back, even as he struggled to catch his breath. “I don’t…need…this shit…from you right…now!”
“That’s right. You don’t need this shit because you’re already too deep in one!” Eric spat.
“FUCK YOU!” Ryan bellowed, anger pouring out of every pore in his body.
Bringing his face just inches from Ryan’s, Eric hissed menacingly, “With pleasure.”
---
He leaned in and crushed his lips against the shorter man’s, and there was nothing romantic or sweet about the kiss. He dominated every bit of the exchange, keeping the pace fierce and angry and brutal to a punishing point, stealing the fight away from Ryan.
And when he finally released his mouth, he didn’t ease his hold on his shirt but half-dragged and half-pushed Ryan backwards towards the dining room until the backs of his thighs roughly hit the edge of the dinner table and his back thudded flat against its smooth mahogany surface.
Still too shocked and a bit winded from their previous exchange, Ryan could do nothing but watch as Eric began to undo his own belt, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants soon after. It was only when Eric let both pieces of fabric fall around his ankles did Ryan see how terribly aroused Eric had gotten.
“Eric…” Ryan gasped helplessly, not knowing whether to beg Eric to stop or to continue.
“Shut up,” Eric hissed as he started to work on Ryan’s jeans.
“Please…”
Grunting, Eric roughly tugged at his jeans and boxers. He pulled them down towards his ankles before grabbing Ryan by his shirt once more. And with more force than was necessary, Eric pulled him off the table just enough to forcefully flip him around so that his back was against his chest.
“Is this what you want, Wolfe?” Eric sneered in a sinister way against his ear before grabbing the back of Ryan’s neck and pushing his head face down, holding it against the table. “Is this how you want it done?”
“Fuck you!” Ryan cursed through gritted teeth, even as he heard the Cuban spit and then felt a warm wetness coat him from behind.
He trembled from the sensation.
“No… Fuck you, Wolfe!” Eric shot back as he took Ryan against the dining room table, his hand steadily pushing down on the back of his neck as the other gripped his hip to a bruise. “Fuck you!” he groaned as he entered him forcefully with one stroke, tearing a stifled moan out of the younger man’s throat.
He held on tighter and leaned down, his chest pressing against Ryan’s shirt-clad back, his mouth smearing words of lust and hurt and anger into his left ear, spurred on by the half-strangled gasps and moans that were bleeding out of Ryan’s mouth.
“Fuck you, Ryan…” Eric’s voice was somewhere between a labored whisper and a groan. “Fuck you…” he cursed, reciting the bitter phrase over and over again like a prayer, as if it would deliver him from the turmoil of emotions he was feeling right then and there. “Fuck you…”
He would curse and thrust. Curse and thrust. Every blow was delivered to punctuate each curse with an angry thrust of his hips, plunging into Ryan deeply, impaling him, owning him… reproving him for his foolishness, punishing him for doing something so monumentally stupid.
“Fuck you… Fuck you… Fuck you…”
He was close now.
So near to losing everything - so very close to losing control.
He picked up the pace and pummeled into Ryan savagely, not bothering to curse anymore. Instead, he focused all of his anger and lust into the task until his vision started to gray around the edges, and everything became too much. And the next thing he knew, his teeth were sinking fiercely onto Ryan’s shoulder, biting him as he groaned out his pleasure, digging his nails against a pale hip, and coming so hard and fast that it made his entire body shudder like he’d never felt before.
He heard Ryan’s muffled cry soon after as his own orgasm took him over like a storm, but he dared not look at his lover’s face anymore. He didn’t think he could carry on with his anger if his eyes were to behold Ryan’s again.
He allowed his own tremors to subside as he tucked his forehead against the former CSI’s back, hiding his face in the process. And when he felt like he had control of his body again, and without so much as a word, Eric pulled out abruptly and began cleaning up, Ryan following suit a moment later.
The air thundered with silence between them once more, save for the sounds made by their movements as they reoriented themselves and started to dress.
“Eric,” Ryan started to say, “I…” but he was cut off before he could finish.
“No. Just… Stop,” Eric’s voice was firm, cold, and he avoided Ryan’s beseeching gaze even as he was zipping up his pants, straightening his shirt. “I don’t want to know, Ryan. I don’t want to hear it.”
“So, what? That’s it? You’re just gonna leave now after all this?”
Ryan’s voice was incredulous, and Eric had to fight the urge to face him. He knew that he’d break down and give in if he were to gaze into those hazel greens. He knew he wouldn’t be able to resist.
Sighing, he shook his head, still avoiding eye contact, “Well, that’s what you wanted before, wasn’t it? You wanted me to get the fuck out of here so, yeah…”
He shrugged, and Ryan didn’t know what to say to that. He opened his mouth to speak then closed it; opened his mouth again but no words would come out. He breathed a resigned sigh, knowing that it would be pointless to argue back.
“Look… I just need to be alone right now. Okay? I need time to think,” Eric replied, trying to find any excuse he could find.
“About what?”
“You… Everything…” he told him flatly.
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
Ryan was getting angry again. He could sense the panic welling up inside. He had that dreadful feeling like he was about to be let go, disposed of, abandoned by the one person he loved the most. He had to fight hard to restrain himself. It took all of his willpower not to grab the taller man again, shove him hard against the wall, and make him explain his nonsense.
But Eric held his stubborn ground and simply shook his head, acting like this was no big deal and that Ryan was being ridiculous to worry, that he was somehow overreacting.
“Nothing… It doesn’t have to mean anything, Ryan. Like I told you… I just need some time to myself, okay?”
Still too staggered, Ryan could only nod dumbly at that. Somehow, he knew that this was it, that this was the end of them as they knew it. Eric might not have known, but at that moment, Ryan certainly did.
That same dreadful feeling that had been creeping up his spine had warned him that something wasn’t right, and he wasn’t going to lie anymore just to protect himself from the encroaching heartache; he wasn’t going to try to deny the pain any longer. He knew it would be futile to think otherwise. Because Eric was leaving. That much he knew for certain. And he wasn’t about to turn a blind eye to the consequences of such a selfish act.
He knew it was over between them.
And he knew that things would never be the same again.
The coldness with which the Cuban had spoken to him was proof enough. It was just ironic to him how it was almost too easy for both of them to just give up, particularly at a time when they should be standing side by side and fighting for each other, instead of with each other.
“No, he’s giving up first…” Ryan thought dimly. “It’s easier when he’s the first to run.”
His chest was suddenly aching. With every intake of air, he was finding it more and more difficult to breathe as the full force of that thought hit him like a storm. He could feel his heart thundering, crashing… splintering into a thousand angry little pieces right at that moment, powerless as it breaks in muted suffering.
And Eric would never know about it.
It was pure torture to bite his tongue, to keep silent about the many things he could say to defend himself, to make himself appear at least half right. He wanted so much to beg the Cuban to stay and to listen to his rebuttal once more, to give his side of things one more go at an explanation. He wanted to parry back and get the last word in.
But he decided right then and there that he was tired of fighting with Eric. He was tired of being the fool in this relationship.
Tired of being the fool.
Period.
No, he would keep everything to himself.
He would hide his anger and embrace the feeling of being disapproved of, of feeling like a castaway, a failure - an embarrassing disappointment to the team.
And then he would bury the pain.
He would hold on to that gut-wrenching feeling of being alone, abandoned, and even betrayed, and he would let that carry him through. He would let those feeling wash over him so that he’d have a crutch, so to speak - a reason to turn his back on this fight and leave without regrets.
That was how he was going to try to be strong: he won’t let himself appear weak, even if it hurt him like a bitch.
“I’m sorry…” Eric finally mumbled under his breath, still avoiding Ryan’s gaze.
It was more like a careless afterthought, however, devoid of any real meaning. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was sorry about or if he even meant it as an apology.
But he figured that it wasn’t like he was the one at fault here. Really, it was Ryan who should be apologizing to him for getting himself into this shit of a predicament. He only said what he said because it just felt like the right thing to say at the time (and because he didn’t know what else to say)… even though he felt nothing resembling an act of contrition behind those words.
He could feel Ryan’s eyes upon him, watching his every move the way a predator might study its prey. It was beginning to unnerve him, to be honest. And yet still, Eric dared not meet those inquisitive eyes.
He didn’t want to look.
He just… couldn’t.
Not right now.
And finally, with the last of his clothes on, Eric took in a tremulous breath, headed for the door, and opened it quickly. And then with one determined foot right after the other, he stepped out, slammed the front door shut, and then… left.
Abruptly.
Suddenly.
He left and didn’t bother to look back.
He left and allowed his stubborn pride to take over.
He left…
And he’d never know how Ryan crumbled to his knees and cried.
---
TBC
A/N: I know, I know… smutty but sad. *passes box of tissues* What can I say? It’s what the Penguins wanted.