Watchmen: Byron/Nelly, NC-17
Title: Rupture: Phase II
Fandom: Watchmen
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Byron/Nelly, implied Byron/Bill and HJ/Nelly
Warnings: angst, blood and alcohol
Timeline: Minutemen, after Dollar Bill's death
Series Summary: After Dollar Bill's death the Minutemen are falling apart and Nelly tries to pick up the pieces, both for himself and for the others.
Fic summary: 36 hours before the HUAC hearing, Nelly and Byron meet and find some solace in each other.
Notes: Second in a series of three Byron/Nelly centred ficlets. (Though up to now, each part can be read on its own.) Oh, it took me so long to find the heart to write this. Thanks to my beta for giving this a once-over.
Rupture: Phase I
Rupture: Phase II
A pathetic drizzle had set in by the time Byron finally left the bar in the early hours of the morning. He glanced at the sky, shoving his hands in his pockets and briefly had to chuckle to himself as he almost entertained the notion that it might mean something; but no, Byron didn’t believe in those kind of signs, not even when he was this drunk, not even now.
He sauntered along, wondering what to do now, whether to go home or to find somewhere else to while away the hours when he saw a familiar figure across the street.
“Nelly,” Byron called across, making the other man’s head snap up as if startled. Without paying any attention to whatever traffic there might have been, Byron crossed the road, leaving screeching tyres and an angry driver in his wake.
“Damn drunk,” the driver called after Byron, but Byron had already reached Nelly on the other side of the road and simply turned to shoot the man in the car a rude gesture. Chuckling, still amused, Byron turned back to Nelly and almost stumbled into him. Nelly’s arm shot out immediately to steady Byron and even in his inebriated state, Byron did not miss how the movement seemed to make the other man wince.
“He does have a point,” Nelly said and the words might have been more cutting if he hadn’t still sounded so pained. Byron didn’t even bother to retort, already busy assessing what was wrong with Nelson. Years of medical training taught by war and the everyday injuries of vigilantes were hard to suppress.
Byron’s hands reached for Nelson’s coat and fumbled with the buttons and all the batting and half-voiced complaints wouldn’t deter Byron.
“Damnit, hold still,” Byron half growled, finally parting the coat and gasping quietly at what he found. Nelly’s hand, which had made its way to Byron’s wrist in the hopes of pushing it away, suddenly went slack and when Byron finally looked up from the blood seeping through the other man’s white shirt Nelly refused to meet Byron’s eyes.
“The hell?” was all Byron could say after a stunned moment’s silence.
Nelly immediately tried to get away from Byron, mumbling things that didn’t make an awful lot of sense, essentially pleading with Byron to let it go.
“It’s nothing, Byron. Don’t worry. I got mugged, you see. No big deal. I’ll just go home and patch up and-”
“Bullshit,” Byron cut in. He didn’t have the patience for this and if Nelson thought he’d actually buy this crap, well he’d better think again.
“Mugged? You?” Byron scoffed and that finally had Nelly look up at him. Byron met Nelson’s gaze head on and still he didn’t want to let this lie. Maybe it was the fact that Nelly didn’t want this, or that he was trying to lie to Byron, but the defiance that was clawing its way through the haze of alcohol dictated that there was no way Byron was going to let Nelly go now. Besides all that the man was bleeding from some invisible wound right before his very eyes.
“Come with me,” Byron commanded, expecting Nelly to follow him, but Nelly again went to disagree. It was more frustrating than it should have been; like coaxing a kitten to come down from a tree. Taking an obviously long-suffering breath, Byron gave Nelly a look that was intended to brook no argument.
“Goddamnit, Nelson, we both know if you’d been mugged you would have given them hell before this happened.” Byron gestured animatedly towards the blood on the other man’s shirt as he spoke. “I’m not even asking you to tell me what this is.” Byron turned to continue walking and this time it was definitely expected that Nelly follow him.
“I live five minutes away and I’m the one with the medical training,” he shot back over his shoulder.
*
They entered Byron’s small apartment and in the dim light that was lit, Byron could see Nelly peruse the half empty book shelves in the living room. He wished Nelly wouldn’t. Hell, the only reason the place was tidy like this was… well, because they’d come and taken everything with them; for “evidence”.
“Did they-”
“Yes,” Byron answered coldly. When he could no longer bear the sight of his empty shelves and neat desk and the pity in Nelly’s eyes as they wandered through the room and across the empty bottles on the coffee table, Byron led Nelly to the bedroom.
“Sit down,” Byron said, pointing to the foot of the bed before rummaging through his closet. Byron had long ago made it a habit to keep a well-stocked medical supply; they probably all had by now.
Nelly sat and Byron wandered into the bathroom to get a wet cloth and some water. When he came back, Nelly had taken off his coat and Byron could see that the blood stain had stopped spreading. It meant that the wound had stopped bleeding and that was good, in a way. It meant it was shallow. However, given the time they’d taken getting to this point, the fabric of Nelly’s shirt would surely be stuck to the skin by now.
Byron swiped a bottle of something strong from the sideboard and when he turned, Nelly was watching him with a raised eyebrow which Byron was sure spelled disapproval. Byron just shrugged it off with a little smirk as he knelt on the floor by Nelly’s legs.
“We need to take off your shirt.”
“Really, there’s no need, Byron,” Nelly immediately objected nervously and Byron was hard put not to snap at the other man. Not for the first time, he wondered where his patience had gone, recently.
Byron got to work wordlessly. There was no point in arguing and it didn’t seem like Nelly were to just get up and walk out on him now. Byron could feel Nelly’s posture stiffening as he pressed the wet cloth to the blood stain and, when Byron glanced upwards, he found Nelly staring resolutely at the wall.
Once the stained fabric had been soaked through and deemed ready to come off more easily, Byron reached up to unbutton Nelly’s shirt. Nelly made a slight sound of disapproval and eyed Byron’s hands suspiciously as they fumbled over the buttons. In the end, Nelly batted Byron’s hands away and opted for unbuttoning the shirt himself.
“You’re too drunk for this,” he told Byron sternly, his blue eyes making Byron think that he should at least try to feel admonished. He failed and just laughed.
“I’m never too drunk for anything,” Byron proclaimed. Or maybe, Byron thought, he was always too drunk for everything. But he was fine like this, so it didn’t matter.
Finally, Byron was able to peel back the edges of Nelly’s shirt and what he found there made him gasp both in surprise and for its nature. There, on Nelly stomach were two cuts, not very deep, but very clean and almost parallel. They couldn’t have possibly been anything other than intentional.
Again, Nelson refused to meet Byron’s eyes. Byron moved carefully, pushing the shirt off Nelly’s shoulders and it was then he noticed the bruises on Nelly’s arms and wrists.
“Did he do this?” Byron asked, frowning. Nelly, seemingly coming out of a trance, said nothing, but traced some of the bruises with his fingers.
“Headboard,” Nelly said, probably as an explanation and there was a thin, nervous laugh in his voice. “Sometimes it’s just not worth it, otherwise.”
Byron’s frown deepened as he looked at how meek Nelly seemed all of a sudden. It threatened to turn Byron’s stomach. He’d always known Nelson to be such a proud man and Byron’s mind just wouldn’t wrap around why Nelly would let anyone do that to him.
“Did he do that?” Byron repeated, more forcefully this time, desperate with a sudden anxious anger inside him.
“No,” Nelly said finally, his voice almost normal as he gave Byron a thin smile and when it seemed that Nelly was going to say no more on the matter it was Byron who had to turn away.
“Lie down,” he advised and Nelly did.
Byron busied himself with cleaning Nelly’s cuts, pouring some of the alcohol he’d brought to clean them. Nelly gasped at the contact; it must have stung. Byron knew the feeling.
“I should find something to wrap those,” Byron said, his own voice no longer as strong as it had been. He cast around for some gauze, for a moment not sure what his fingers were doing. Byron blinked some of the blurriness from his vision before sitting down next to Nelly and making him sit up just long enough to wrap a few strips of gauze around his middle.
“He’s gone, you know,” Nelly said at length, staring at the ceiling. Byron had taken up the opened bottle from the floor and was playing with the label. He took a swig before answering.
“Gone?”
“Yes,” Nelly confirmed with a heavy sigh. “He refuses to reveal his identity. So, he left.”
Byron contemplated this for a moment, contemplated the emptiness that seemed to have settled within Nelly, before giving a derisive snort.
‘Cowardice’, Byron thought, and in the gloom and sudden silence he became all too aware of the ticking clock on the wall; maybe HJ had the right idea after all.
“I’m sorry,” Byron said simply and handed the bottle off to Nelly.
Byron’s gaze drifted to the clock on the wall. They had 36 hours to the hearing. Nelly offered the bottle back and Byron took it, watching its contents lap at the glass.
“Maybe we should just follow HJ,” he suggested and was almost serious.
“But the Minutemen-”
“Are done,” Byron cut Nelly off.
“No...” Nelly sounded almost desperate then.
“Yes, they are,” Byron snapped. He took a long drink and, with a sigh flopped back on the bed next to Nelly.
“I’m sorry,” Byron said. He’d meant what he’d said, but he hadn’t meant to snap.
Nelly sat up enough to take the bottle from Byron and took a few sips.
“Besides, they already know who we are. What should we do? Live in hiding for the rest of our lives?” Nelly sounded very doubtful towards that idea. Byron wondered why.
“Oh, Nelson,” he said, plucking the bottle from the other man’s hand, “we’re already doing that.”
“They don’t have anything on you,” he continued. “They’ll never know about HJ.”
Nelly nodded silently, his mouth pressed into a thin line.
“And you?”
Byron gave a humourless laugh.
“They have everything on me,” he replied and was forced to take a shaky breath. “Except Bill.”
Again, Nelly nodded and his hand made a move towards Byron, stopping short and coming to rest in the space between them.
“You’re a good medic,” Nelson said. “The best I’ve seen. That must have meant something in the field.”
Byron raised an eyebrow at Nelly, a tentative half-smile creeping onto his lips. It should have been heart-warming, he thought, the way Nelly was trying to find whatever good could be found in this situation. But Byron didn’t think his heart quite remembered how to be warmed.
“And why, Nelson, was I a medic?” Byron asked this as he set the bottle on the bedside table and turned to fully face Nelly.
“Because-”
Byron nodded. “Yes, because I objected.”
That silenced Nelly for a moment while that blasted clock still ticked loudly in the background.
“It makes no difference,” Byron said quietly. “Really, it doesn’t matter anymore…”
For a moment, Byron thought Nelly would try to argue and when the other man stopped himself, Byron just smiled sadly.
They lay in silence for a few moments, their gazes locked. Later on, Byron couldn’t remember who had moved first, but suddenly, like magnets, their lips were drawn towards each other.
Their kiss was awkward at first until they eliminated all distance between them. It was like an avalanche, starting small and gaining momentum until they clung to each other, Byron’s arms wrapped around Nelly’s broad shoulders and Nelly’s hands fisted in Byron’s shirt.
Gasping, they broke apart and Byron could see a clear question in Nelly’s eyes. Byron nodded slowly and leant in, lips hard on Nelson’s. They didn’t know what might happen within the next few days and Byron for one hadn’t been able to live on hope alone for a while now.
Nelson’s hands began to wander and Byron’s, too, slowly slid down the other’s back. They were still kissing, all bruising pressure, teeth and desperation. Byron felt a sudden tug in his hair when Nelly ran his hand into it and he moaned into the kiss, encouraging Nelly to go on just like that. And Nelly did while Byron moved his kisses to Nelly’s neck, seeking out the pulse point and attacking it mercilessly, the first sound coming from Nelly confirming that this was appreciated.
It didn’t take long for Nelly to take the lead and when he suddenly rolled them both over and on top of Byron their erections collided, drawing breathless groans from both of them. Byron could feel arousal course through him and begin to build a pressure deep inside. Byron had no patience, now, to take this slowly, and he refused to contemplate why it was that he was reacting this readily. Byron closed his eyes at the next kiss and could feel Nelly’s hands deftly unbutton his shirt. Then, all of a sudden, Nelly’s lips were on Byron’s chest, kissing, teeth grazing and travelling downwards. Byron’s trousers and underwear were the next victims, shed and tossed carelessly to the side.
*
Byron’s breathing sped up as he watched Nelly’s mouth along its path in a very clear direction.
“Nelson…,” Byron moaned lowly, running his hand into Nelly’s thick hair.
“Mh?” Nelly looked up and Byron met those deep, serious eyes. He suddenly wondered whether he had to ask; when Nelly lowered his eyes towards Byron’s erection, Byron had the feeling he didn’t.
So Byron nodded and lay back, relaxing into the mattress and soon everything felt more distant. The first touch of Nelly’s lips on Byron’s cock felt electric, causing Byron to groan loudly. While that first contact had felt like relief, it soon turned into an onslaught of sensation as Nelly set a strong rhythm. It was impossible for Byron to hold back, both the sounds that were ripped from him and the tidal wave of pleasure sweeping through him. He felt stripped, now; powerless and unable to think or to do anything but fist his hand in Nelly’s hair.
Byron felt as if he were drowning; he found it hard to breathe.
“Nelly,” he gasped, screwing his eyes shut against the barrage of sensation. Part of Byron never wanted Nelly to stop what he was doing; another part wanted more; so much more. He needed it.
“Fuck me,” Byron groaned breathlessly and, as if a switch had been tripped, Nelly stopped, letting Byron’s cock slide from his mouth gently.
“Yes,” Nelly almost growled and Byron was a little surprised by the rawness in Nelly’s voice. Forcing his body to move, to just function, Byron rolled over and rummaged in a bedside drawer, producing a small bottle of lube. He tossed it towards Nelly and Nelly caught it easily.
Their eyes met across the bed and Byron managed a small smile, raising an eyebrow.
“Turn around and hold on to the headboard,” Nelly answered the unspoken question with a quirk of his own lips.
Byron nodded and complied, turning around and leaning on the headboard, arms outstretched and his ass bared towards Nelly. Byron waited with half-bated breath until he felt Nelly’s hands on his hips. Nelly continued from there, running his hands over Byron’s buttocks and squeezing gently, as if testing. Byron smirked a little through the moan this action elicited.
Nelly parted Byron’s cheeks and slid a slicked finger across Byron’s entrance. The sensation immediately stoked the fire that was burning deep in Byron and, almost involuntarily, Byron pressed back against that finger. Behind him, Nelly chuckled and Byron gave an amused snort.
All further sound was cut short as Nelly finally pressed the digit inside Byron. For a moment it felt alien, burned a little until Byron’s cock gained a surge of arousal when Nelly began pumping. In and out and in again and Byron moaned and gasped, not wanting to beg for more, but needing it.
Then Nelly pulled out and Byron groaned, desperately in need of having that penetration, having something stretch him and blow all thought from his mind.
“God, fuck me, Nelly,” Byron rasped and he spread his legs a little further for good measure.
There was a gasp of approval from Nelson and Byron could hear the cap being removed from the bottle of lube. He turned his head slightly just to watch the incredibly arousing expression on Nelly’s face as he slicked up his cock. Nelly positioned himself behind Byron, then, and Byron turned back to face the headboard.
As Nelly slid into Byron, it almost stole Byron’s breath. Nelly was big and he felt so good stretching Byron, filling him and pushing that sensation to every corner of Byron’s body. Byron gasped Nelly’s name, his hands tightening on the wood he was holding on to and when Byron thought he couldn’t take any more, Nelly had sheathed himself completely in Byron with a satisfied groan and was already pulling back again to repeat the motion.
“Fuck, didn’t think you’d be so tight,” Nelly gasped, pushing back in and Byron chuckled breathlessly.
“What,” Byron groaned as Nelly snapped in a little harder than before, “do you take me for?”
Nelly only laughed breathily and rammed into Byron again, this time almost making Byron see stars. Byron groaned loudly and angled his ass up a little further and the next time Nelly pushed in, deep, he hit that spot within Byron that made Byron lose himself completely.
“Harder,” Byron growled, already pushing back against Nelly’s rock hard cock. Nelly’s hands tightened on Byron’s hips and Byron almost hoped he’d carry the bruises of this encounter for a few days to come.
Nelly grunted, becoming slightly more vocal and Byron could tell that Nelly was in no better position to hold on much longer than Byron was. Byron deliberately tightened his walls around Nelson’s cock when he pulled back next and Nelly groaned hoarsely and reached around to wrap his hand around Byron’s cock.
It was a vice; strong and tight and Byron lost all coherence as Nelly began to stroke him in time with his thrusts. There was no turning back now; Byron was hurtling towards orgasm and the sound that ripped from his throat as he finally came was almost feral.
Nelly needed two or three more thrusts and then he was coming with a cracked groan, his hand clamping down on Byron’s hip harder than ever.
Byron all but collapsed to the bed, boneless, once Nelly had pulled out. They were both gasping for breath, Nelly next to Byron, one arm slung across Byron’s back. Byron felt the air cool and begin to dry the sweat on his skin and it made him shiver. Seeking warmth, he rolled right up to Nelly’s chest and Nelly, with a tired chuckle, wrapped his arms around Byron tightly.
They fell asleep like this that night. When Byron awoke the next day it was way into the afternoon.
With a pained groan, Byron pried his eyes open. His head was ready to split open; he needed water. Badly. Gently, Byron disentangled himself from Nelly’s arms and made his way to the kitchen where he ran himself a glass. He took it to the living room and sank to the couch, draining the water before just staying seated, resting his head in his hands.
Like this, Byron barely even heard Nelly approach, quite some time later. Nelly was already dressed again and, Byron noted with some surprise, in a shirt that was definitely too small for him.
“I borrowed one of your shirts,” Nelly said with an apologetic shrug. Byron looked up at him with an amused expression.
“I can tell,” he said, letting his gaze wander over where the shirt was stretched tightly across Nelly’s muscled chest.
For a moment neither said anything. Byron still felt incredibly tired, his vision grainy with the hangover and the sleep he’d been losing for so long now. It made Byron’s mind sluggish; sluggish enough that it startled him when Nelly laid his hand on Byron’s shoulder.
“I’ll check back with you tonight,” Nelly said and Byron wished he couldn’t see the shadows of growing worry and anxiety in Nelly’s eyes so clearly.
“I’ll be back in a few hours.”
Byron took Nelly’s hand briefly and nodded.
“I’ll see you later.”
A/N: Feel free to comment. :)
Fandom: Watchmen
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Byron/Nelly, implied Byron/Bill and HJ/Nelly
Warnings: angst, blood and alcohol
Timeline: Minutemen, after Dollar Bill's death
Series Summary: After Dollar Bill's death the Minutemen are falling apart and Nelly tries to pick up the pieces, both for himself and for the others.
Fic summary: 36 hours before the HUAC hearing, Nelly and Byron meet and find some solace in each other.
Notes: Second in a series of three Byron/Nelly centred ficlets. (Though up to now, each part can be read on its own.) Oh, it took me so long to find the heart to write this. Thanks to my beta for giving this a once-over.
Rupture: Phase I
Rupture: Phase II
A pathetic drizzle had set in by the time Byron finally left the bar in the early hours of the morning. He glanced at the sky, shoving his hands in his pockets and briefly had to chuckle to himself as he almost entertained the notion that it might mean something; but no, Byron didn’t believe in those kind of signs, not even when he was this drunk, not even now.
He sauntered along, wondering what to do now, whether to go home or to find somewhere else to while away the hours when he saw a familiar figure across the street.
“Nelly,” Byron called across, making the other man’s head snap up as if startled. Without paying any attention to whatever traffic there might have been, Byron crossed the road, leaving screeching tyres and an angry driver in his wake.
“Damn drunk,” the driver called after Byron, but Byron had already reached Nelly on the other side of the road and simply turned to shoot the man in the car a rude gesture. Chuckling, still amused, Byron turned back to Nelly and almost stumbled into him. Nelly’s arm shot out immediately to steady Byron and even in his inebriated state, Byron did not miss how the movement seemed to make the other man wince.
“He does have a point,” Nelly said and the words might have been more cutting if he hadn’t still sounded so pained. Byron didn’t even bother to retort, already busy assessing what was wrong with Nelson. Years of medical training taught by war and the everyday injuries of vigilantes were hard to suppress.
Byron’s hands reached for Nelson’s coat and fumbled with the buttons and all the batting and half-voiced complaints wouldn’t deter Byron.
“Damnit, hold still,” Byron half growled, finally parting the coat and gasping quietly at what he found. Nelly’s hand, which had made its way to Byron’s wrist in the hopes of pushing it away, suddenly went slack and when Byron finally looked up from the blood seeping through the other man’s white shirt Nelly refused to meet Byron’s eyes.
“The hell?” was all Byron could say after a stunned moment’s silence.
Nelly immediately tried to get away from Byron, mumbling things that didn’t make an awful lot of sense, essentially pleading with Byron to let it go.
“It’s nothing, Byron. Don’t worry. I got mugged, you see. No big deal. I’ll just go home and patch up and-”
“Bullshit,” Byron cut in. He didn’t have the patience for this and if Nelson thought he’d actually buy this crap, well he’d better think again.
“Mugged? You?” Byron scoffed and that finally had Nelly look up at him. Byron met Nelson’s gaze head on and still he didn’t want to let this lie. Maybe it was the fact that Nelly didn’t want this, or that he was trying to lie to Byron, but the defiance that was clawing its way through the haze of alcohol dictated that there was no way Byron was going to let Nelly go now. Besides all that the man was bleeding from some invisible wound right before his very eyes.
“Come with me,” Byron commanded, expecting Nelly to follow him, but Nelly again went to disagree. It was more frustrating than it should have been; like coaxing a kitten to come down from a tree. Taking an obviously long-suffering breath, Byron gave Nelly a look that was intended to brook no argument.
“Goddamnit, Nelson, we both know if you’d been mugged you would have given them hell before this happened.” Byron gestured animatedly towards the blood on the other man’s shirt as he spoke. “I’m not even asking you to tell me what this is.” Byron turned to continue walking and this time it was definitely expected that Nelly follow him.
“I live five minutes away and I’m the one with the medical training,” he shot back over his shoulder.
*
They entered Byron’s small apartment and in the dim light that was lit, Byron could see Nelly peruse the half empty book shelves in the living room. He wished Nelly wouldn’t. Hell, the only reason the place was tidy like this was… well, because they’d come and taken everything with them; for “evidence”.
“Did they-”
“Yes,” Byron answered coldly. When he could no longer bear the sight of his empty shelves and neat desk and the pity in Nelly’s eyes as they wandered through the room and across the empty bottles on the coffee table, Byron led Nelly to the bedroom.
“Sit down,” Byron said, pointing to the foot of the bed before rummaging through his closet. Byron had long ago made it a habit to keep a well-stocked medical supply; they probably all had by now.
Nelly sat and Byron wandered into the bathroom to get a wet cloth and some water. When he came back, Nelly had taken off his coat and Byron could see that the blood stain had stopped spreading. It meant that the wound had stopped bleeding and that was good, in a way. It meant it was shallow. However, given the time they’d taken getting to this point, the fabric of Nelly’s shirt would surely be stuck to the skin by now.
Byron swiped a bottle of something strong from the sideboard and when he turned, Nelly was watching him with a raised eyebrow which Byron was sure spelled disapproval. Byron just shrugged it off with a little smirk as he knelt on the floor by Nelly’s legs.
“We need to take off your shirt.”
“Really, there’s no need, Byron,” Nelly immediately objected nervously and Byron was hard put not to snap at the other man. Not for the first time, he wondered where his patience had gone, recently.
Byron got to work wordlessly. There was no point in arguing and it didn’t seem like Nelly were to just get up and walk out on him now. Byron could feel Nelly’s posture stiffening as he pressed the wet cloth to the blood stain and, when Byron glanced upwards, he found Nelly staring resolutely at the wall.
Once the stained fabric had been soaked through and deemed ready to come off more easily, Byron reached up to unbutton Nelly’s shirt. Nelly made a slight sound of disapproval and eyed Byron’s hands suspiciously as they fumbled over the buttons. In the end, Nelly batted Byron’s hands away and opted for unbuttoning the shirt himself.
“You’re too drunk for this,” he told Byron sternly, his blue eyes making Byron think that he should at least try to feel admonished. He failed and just laughed.
“I’m never too drunk for anything,” Byron proclaimed. Or maybe, Byron thought, he was always too drunk for everything. But he was fine like this, so it didn’t matter.
Finally, Byron was able to peel back the edges of Nelly’s shirt and what he found there made him gasp both in surprise and for its nature. There, on Nelly stomach were two cuts, not very deep, but very clean and almost parallel. They couldn’t have possibly been anything other than intentional.
Again, Nelson refused to meet Byron’s eyes. Byron moved carefully, pushing the shirt off Nelly’s shoulders and it was then he noticed the bruises on Nelly’s arms and wrists.
“Did he do this?” Byron asked, frowning. Nelly, seemingly coming out of a trance, said nothing, but traced some of the bruises with his fingers.
“Headboard,” Nelly said, probably as an explanation and there was a thin, nervous laugh in his voice. “Sometimes it’s just not worth it, otherwise.”
Byron’s frown deepened as he looked at how meek Nelly seemed all of a sudden. It threatened to turn Byron’s stomach. He’d always known Nelson to be such a proud man and Byron’s mind just wouldn’t wrap around why Nelly would let anyone do that to him.
“Did he do that?” Byron repeated, more forcefully this time, desperate with a sudden anxious anger inside him.
“No,” Nelly said finally, his voice almost normal as he gave Byron a thin smile and when it seemed that Nelly was going to say no more on the matter it was Byron who had to turn away.
“Lie down,” he advised and Nelly did.
Byron busied himself with cleaning Nelly’s cuts, pouring some of the alcohol he’d brought to clean them. Nelly gasped at the contact; it must have stung. Byron knew the feeling.
“I should find something to wrap those,” Byron said, his own voice no longer as strong as it had been. He cast around for some gauze, for a moment not sure what his fingers were doing. Byron blinked some of the blurriness from his vision before sitting down next to Nelly and making him sit up just long enough to wrap a few strips of gauze around his middle.
“He’s gone, you know,” Nelly said at length, staring at the ceiling. Byron had taken up the opened bottle from the floor and was playing with the label. He took a swig before answering.
“Gone?”
“Yes,” Nelly confirmed with a heavy sigh. “He refuses to reveal his identity. So, he left.”
Byron contemplated this for a moment, contemplated the emptiness that seemed to have settled within Nelly, before giving a derisive snort.
‘Cowardice’, Byron thought, and in the gloom and sudden silence he became all too aware of the ticking clock on the wall; maybe HJ had the right idea after all.
“I’m sorry,” Byron said simply and handed the bottle off to Nelly.
Byron’s gaze drifted to the clock on the wall. They had 36 hours to the hearing. Nelly offered the bottle back and Byron took it, watching its contents lap at the glass.
“Maybe we should just follow HJ,” he suggested and was almost serious.
“But the Minutemen-”
“Are done,” Byron cut Nelly off.
“No...” Nelly sounded almost desperate then.
“Yes, they are,” Byron snapped. He took a long drink and, with a sigh flopped back on the bed next to Nelly.
“I’m sorry,” Byron said. He’d meant what he’d said, but he hadn’t meant to snap.
Nelly sat up enough to take the bottle from Byron and took a few sips.
“Besides, they already know who we are. What should we do? Live in hiding for the rest of our lives?” Nelly sounded very doubtful towards that idea. Byron wondered why.
“Oh, Nelson,” he said, plucking the bottle from the other man’s hand, “we’re already doing that.”
“They don’t have anything on you,” he continued. “They’ll never know about HJ.”
Nelly nodded silently, his mouth pressed into a thin line.
“And you?”
Byron gave a humourless laugh.
“They have everything on me,” he replied and was forced to take a shaky breath. “Except Bill.”
Again, Nelly nodded and his hand made a move towards Byron, stopping short and coming to rest in the space between them.
“You’re a good medic,” Nelson said. “The best I’ve seen. That must have meant something in the field.”
Byron raised an eyebrow at Nelly, a tentative half-smile creeping onto his lips. It should have been heart-warming, he thought, the way Nelly was trying to find whatever good could be found in this situation. But Byron didn’t think his heart quite remembered how to be warmed.
“And why, Nelson, was I a medic?” Byron asked this as he set the bottle on the bedside table and turned to fully face Nelly.
“Because-”
Byron nodded. “Yes, because I objected.”
That silenced Nelly for a moment while that blasted clock still ticked loudly in the background.
“It makes no difference,” Byron said quietly. “Really, it doesn’t matter anymore…”
For a moment, Byron thought Nelly would try to argue and when the other man stopped himself, Byron just smiled sadly.
They lay in silence for a few moments, their gazes locked. Later on, Byron couldn’t remember who had moved first, but suddenly, like magnets, their lips were drawn towards each other.
Their kiss was awkward at first until they eliminated all distance between them. It was like an avalanche, starting small and gaining momentum until they clung to each other, Byron’s arms wrapped around Nelly’s broad shoulders and Nelly’s hands fisted in Byron’s shirt.
Gasping, they broke apart and Byron could see a clear question in Nelly’s eyes. Byron nodded slowly and leant in, lips hard on Nelson’s. They didn’t know what might happen within the next few days and Byron for one hadn’t been able to live on hope alone for a while now.
Nelson’s hands began to wander and Byron’s, too, slowly slid down the other’s back. They were still kissing, all bruising pressure, teeth and desperation. Byron felt a sudden tug in his hair when Nelly ran his hand into it and he moaned into the kiss, encouraging Nelly to go on just like that. And Nelly did while Byron moved his kisses to Nelly’s neck, seeking out the pulse point and attacking it mercilessly, the first sound coming from Nelly confirming that this was appreciated.
It didn’t take long for Nelly to take the lead and when he suddenly rolled them both over and on top of Byron their erections collided, drawing breathless groans from both of them. Byron could feel arousal course through him and begin to build a pressure deep inside. Byron had no patience, now, to take this slowly, and he refused to contemplate why it was that he was reacting this readily. Byron closed his eyes at the next kiss and could feel Nelly’s hands deftly unbutton his shirt. Then, all of a sudden, Nelly’s lips were on Byron’s chest, kissing, teeth grazing and travelling downwards. Byron’s trousers and underwear were the next victims, shed and tossed carelessly to the side.
*
Byron’s breathing sped up as he watched Nelly’s mouth along its path in a very clear direction.
“Nelson…,” Byron moaned lowly, running his hand into Nelly’s thick hair.
“Mh?” Nelly looked up and Byron met those deep, serious eyes. He suddenly wondered whether he had to ask; when Nelly lowered his eyes towards Byron’s erection, Byron had the feeling he didn’t.
So Byron nodded and lay back, relaxing into the mattress and soon everything felt more distant. The first touch of Nelly’s lips on Byron’s cock felt electric, causing Byron to groan loudly. While that first contact had felt like relief, it soon turned into an onslaught of sensation as Nelly set a strong rhythm. It was impossible for Byron to hold back, both the sounds that were ripped from him and the tidal wave of pleasure sweeping through him. He felt stripped, now; powerless and unable to think or to do anything but fist his hand in Nelly’s hair.
Byron felt as if he were drowning; he found it hard to breathe.
“Nelly,” he gasped, screwing his eyes shut against the barrage of sensation. Part of Byron never wanted Nelly to stop what he was doing; another part wanted more; so much more. He needed it.
“Fuck me,” Byron groaned breathlessly and, as if a switch had been tripped, Nelly stopped, letting Byron’s cock slide from his mouth gently.
“Yes,” Nelly almost growled and Byron was a little surprised by the rawness in Nelly’s voice. Forcing his body to move, to just function, Byron rolled over and rummaged in a bedside drawer, producing a small bottle of lube. He tossed it towards Nelly and Nelly caught it easily.
Their eyes met across the bed and Byron managed a small smile, raising an eyebrow.
“Turn around and hold on to the headboard,” Nelly answered the unspoken question with a quirk of his own lips.
Byron nodded and complied, turning around and leaning on the headboard, arms outstretched and his ass bared towards Nelly. Byron waited with half-bated breath until he felt Nelly’s hands on his hips. Nelly continued from there, running his hands over Byron’s buttocks and squeezing gently, as if testing. Byron smirked a little through the moan this action elicited.
Nelly parted Byron’s cheeks and slid a slicked finger across Byron’s entrance. The sensation immediately stoked the fire that was burning deep in Byron and, almost involuntarily, Byron pressed back against that finger. Behind him, Nelly chuckled and Byron gave an amused snort.
All further sound was cut short as Nelly finally pressed the digit inside Byron. For a moment it felt alien, burned a little until Byron’s cock gained a surge of arousal when Nelly began pumping. In and out and in again and Byron moaned and gasped, not wanting to beg for more, but needing it.
Then Nelly pulled out and Byron groaned, desperately in need of having that penetration, having something stretch him and blow all thought from his mind.
“God, fuck me, Nelly,” Byron rasped and he spread his legs a little further for good measure.
There was a gasp of approval from Nelson and Byron could hear the cap being removed from the bottle of lube. He turned his head slightly just to watch the incredibly arousing expression on Nelly’s face as he slicked up his cock. Nelly positioned himself behind Byron, then, and Byron turned back to face the headboard.
As Nelly slid into Byron, it almost stole Byron’s breath. Nelly was big and he felt so good stretching Byron, filling him and pushing that sensation to every corner of Byron’s body. Byron gasped Nelly’s name, his hands tightening on the wood he was holding on to and when Byron thought he couldn’t take any more, Nelly had sheathed himself completely in Byron with a satisfied groan and was already pulling back again to repeat the motion.
“Fuck, didn’t think you’d be so tight,” Nelly gasped, pushing back in and Byron chuckled breathlessly.
“What,” Byron groaned as Nelly snapped in a little harder than before, “do you take me for?”
Nelly only laughed breathily and rammed into Byron again, this time almost making Byron see stars. Byron groaned loudly and angled his ass up a little further and the next time Nelly pushed in, deep, he hit that spot within Byron that made Byron lose himself completely.
“Harder,” Byron growled, already pushing back against Nelly’s rock hard cock. Nelly’s hands tightened on Byron’s hips and Byron almost hoped he’d carry the bruises of this encounter for a few days to come.
Nelly grunted, becoming slightly more vocal and Byron could tell that Nelly was in no better position to hold on much longer than Byron was. Byron deliberately tightened his walls around Nelson’s cock when he pulled back next and Nelly groaned hoarsely and reached around to wrap his hand around Byron’s cock.
It was a vice; strong and tight and Byron lost all coherence as Nelly began to stroke him in time with his thrusts. There was no turning back now; Byron was hurtling towards orgasm and the sound that ripped from his throat as he finally came was almost feral.
Nelly needed two or three more thrusts and then he was coming with a cracked groan, his hand clamping down on Byron’s hip harder than ever.
Byron all but collapsed to the bed, boneless, once Nelly had pulled out. They were both gasping for breath, Nelly next to Byron, one arm slung across Byron’s back. Byron felt the air cool and begin to dry the sweat on his skin and it made him shiver. Seeking warmth, he rolled right up to Nelly’s chest and Nelly, with a tired chuckle, wrapped his arms around Byron tightly.
They fell asleep like this that night. When Byron awoke the next day it was way into the afternoon.
With a pained groan, Byron pried his eyes open. His head was ready to split open; he needed water. Badly. Gently, Byron disentangled himself from Nelly’s arms and made his way to the kitchen where he ran himself a glass. He took it to the living room and sank to the couch, draining the water before just staying seated, resting his head in his hands.
Like this, Byron barely even heard Nelly approach, quite some time later. Nelly was already dressed again and, Byron noted with some surprise, in a shirt that was definitely too small for him.
“I borrowed one of your shirts,” Nelly said with an apologetic shrug. Byron looked up at him with an amused expression.
“I can tell,” he said, letting his gaze wander over where the shirt was stretched tightly across Nelly’s muscled chest.
For a moment neither said anything. Byron still felt incredibly tired, his vision grainy with the hangover and the sleep he’d been losing for so long now. It made Byron’s mind sluggish; sluggish enough that it startled him when Nelly laid his hand on Byron’s shoulder.
“I’ll check back with you tonight,” Nelly said and Byron wished he couldn’t see the shadows of growing worry and anxiety in Nelly’s eyes so clearly.
“I’ll be back in a few hours.”
Byron took Nelly’s hand briefly and nodded.
“I’ll see you later.”
A/N: Feel free to comment. :)