Chords and Melodies (Hellboy, Johann Krauss/Abe Sapien)
Title: Chords and Melodies
Fandom: Hellboy (movieverse)
Pairing: Johann Krauss/Abe Sapien; references to Hellboy/Liz
Rating: NC17 for slash
Dedicated: meabh_ for her exceedingly generous help_chile bid!
Summary: Whoever said everyday had to mean ordinary?
Author's Notes: One of the central scenes in this lifts the dialogue pretty much directly from this previous fic but you don't need to have read that story to understand it; just thought I'd give people a heads up in case it looked familiar.
Johann Krauss was an excellent reader of other people. As much as it was a useful talent, it did have the unfortunate effect of leading him to trust a little too much in first impressions. Hellboy he had quickly taken for a sullen teenager; Liz for a long-suffering, smart girl who wanted to like people but often didn't, and he'd been far from surprised to find out she'd been bullied; Abe he had taken for an eccentric, somewhat poetic genius.
Admittedly he'd been correct on all accounts, but summing them up so casually was foolish because there was so much more to them; just a day's observation would be enough to make that clear to anyone.
Given their initial lack of physical resources after leaving the BPRD - money was never too much of an issue given two of them had savings accounts going back the better part of a century - Johann found himself with more than enough time to get to know each of the group individually, rather than having to face them as a whole. Hellboy had been particularly excited when Johann invited him into what had been changing rooms - now his office - to learn a trick or two about welding.
Liz had proven, scarcely surprisingly, something of a natural with a blowtorch, but she lacked Hellboy's enthusiasm for the task; Abe had been eager to learn, but practicality demanded he should only learn the basics needed for repair work should an accident ever befall Johann's outfit on mission - Abe's skin simply dried out too quickly in the heat for anything more.
Despite knowing he would be spending extra time with Hellboy, Johann had expected their conversations to go much the way they always had - argumentative, professional, or a mixture of both. His expectations swiftly proved wrong; when Hellboy's mind and body were concentrated on the same task he became quite contemplative, tended to hum or whistle to himself, bite his tongue in concentration. And as much as Johann had never doubted Hellboy's love for Liz, getting to hear about the everyday joys and disasters that made up their relationship encouraged him to consider that love in a different light. Those two didn't just love each other by accident, they loved each other because they had a great deal in common, a similar sense of humour, both found the other attractive - and, more than anything, they worked at it.
It shed a new light on their quarrels too, but Johann had to admit he thought Liz's condition rendered their more recent fights a little exaggerated. She certainly seemed to be arguing for three on top of eating for them.
Liz herself was certainly an independent woman and for all that she and Hellboy spent most of their time together, Johann could not help but feel a little as if he had a kindred spirit in her. She had a maturity beyond her years and both of them respected the other's occasional desires for solitude; whenever she walked in on him tinkering with a watch or telescope she would leave him in peace, much as he would if he saw her sitting on her own by the open windows of what had been the main gym.
Maybe it was a side effect of having once been human - in Liz's case, still human - but he and Liz both needed the occasional rest from being social creatures. Thankfully, Abe and Hellboy were happy enough to provide banter for the both of them, and even if he didn't exactly have an expressive face he was fairly certain that he and Liz had something of an understanding when it came to implied rolling of eyes at the dinner table.
Abe had been a particular curiosity to him, which was a little ironic given he was also the chattiest of the group. After Nuala's death Abe had been a little sore, quite understandably, though he had started opening up again when it was pointed out that risking the world to save a loved one was scarcely new - wasn't even new amongst them.
Once Abe started talking, whether one gave the impression of listening or not, he barely stopped. It was strangely endearing; Abe's running commentary on the evolution of bath house piping as they worked to repair the pool's temperature controls would have had him smiling if he'd still had lips. He should probably have guessed then what was happening, but matters of the heart - even an ethereal one - often took leave of common sense.
One advantage of working for themselves was that, in theory, they could take holidays whenever they wished. In practise this wasn't quite the case; without Liz handy to play the human face of the group, finding work could be quite a struggle. People either laughed at their 'outrageous costumes' or ran screaming, leaving Abe and Johann to find other ways of preoccupying themselves while waiting for Liz and Hellboy to return from their break. Finally fixing the temperature controls for the pool took barely a day once they were no longer at risk of interruption, though fitting equipment for adding oxygen to the water was a little awkward.
Despite his being the one to design and build the main part of the system - and even by his own standards, he had to admit he was particularly pleased with both the efficiency and the look of the finished equipment - Johann had to ask Abe to install it. Draining the pool would have been a complete waste of resources when all the installation required was someone who could swim, but somewhat ironically despite his body being in essence a converted diving suit, the conversion work had taken away much of its waterproof nature. Certainly there were methods of waterproofing, but most of those had yet to be reclaimed from the BPRD.
Thankfully, Abe was smart enough to follow instructions without excessive explanation, and while Johann had no idea how it was that Abe could continue a conversation while underwater, he appreciated the talent.
Seeing Abe emerge from the newly warmed and properly oxygenated pool was something of a revelation. Johann hadn't really noticed the effect of being forced to shower for moisture and oxygen on Abe, had not realised Abe tended to keep complaints of discomfort to himself, but the difference in attitude was visible. Abe seemed happier than Johann had seen him in weeks, relaxation showing in the way he held himself and his voice taking on a more melodic quality, edging further and further away from the slight monotone he'd acquired after Nuala's death and towards something much closer to what Johann thought he had seen the first time they met.
Johann did not care much for traditional art, finding more beauty in the methods used to create than in the results, but early on he had felt that there was something about Abe meant for paint or sculpture. He'd paid as little attention as possible to that thought initially, did not wish to find himself distracted simply because, even in a world like theirs, Abe was exceptional.
Nonetheless decades of wearing the same suit and living the same life, plus his own nature even before the accident, had left Johann a practical man if not quite a romantic one.
Abe noticed him looking at the dinner table long before he said anything, Johann's plate empty as usual and Abe's half eaten. "What is it?" Abe had said.
Johann believed honesty and practicality went hand in hand. "You are a beautiful creature, Abraham Sapien."
He had only expected a polite response and was content to let it lie when Abe stopped blushing long enough to look up and say, "Thank you."
He had not expected a positive response, and when Abe followed up the thanks by leaning across the table and pressing a kiss against his glass, it was a decidedly pleasant surprise.
That first night there had been little he could do other than let himself out of the suit, spreading out across Abe's skin though he was only able to brush against it or dip in for a moment at a time, possessing briefly, but as learning curves went he had rarely been happier to start at the deep end. They had become more adventurous since, online shopping rendering the discreet purchase of certain items far easier than it had been when either of them were young, and it amused Johann to find ways of concealing them in amongst his more mechanical and innocent trinkets - not that those didn't have their own uses, of course.
Most times since their first had been equally wonderful, though he couldn't particularly rate the evening when he had been forced to hide in a storage closet by the poolside after Liz unknowingly interrupted them for a quick word; one of Abe's equally endearing and irritating talents was his tendency to gossip at length, and after fifteen minutes of 'a quick word', Johann had felt quite sore tempered and far from amorous.
They chose to let Liz and Hellboy know about their relationship after that. Two months of romantic entanglement was scarcely a flash in the pan - long lived as they both were, time still rolled by at much the same pace, even if they were prone to losing track of it - and hiding like teenagers wasn't exactly dignified.
"Really?" Hellboy grunted at breakfast, not taking his eyes off the mountain of sausages, bacon and eggs on his plate. "There's a surprise."
Johann traded confused looks with Abe before Liz piped up, "Abe, you talk in your sleep. Really loud."
"He does," Johann agreed, suddenly understanding, trying not to be amused by Abe's somewhat offended expression. "You do. Though rarely as loud as Liz claims."
"Maybe you're only loud when you're excited?" Liz suggested. "You did sound -"
"Guys," Hellboy groaned. "Trying to eat here!"
"We're just glad you aren't fighting," Liz said, sliding a few more pancakes onto her plate. "When we came back after the holiday and you two wouldn't make eye contact? You had us worried."
"Yeah," Hellboy said flatly, looking down at his own plate and sighing before switching from sausages to bacon. "And to think, you were just boning. What a relief."
Liz elbowed him in the side, smiling a little too sweetly. "What he means to say is thanks. For telling us."
Grumpy as Hellboy might have been initially, both he and Liz seemed to appreciate the honesty, and the fact everyone knew meant people could ask for privacy as and when they needed it.
Thank God. Because as much as Johann didn't technically have a libido, just a great deal of affection for Abe and an intense appreciation of his beauty, Abe certainly did have one. One that seemed tied to his sense of humour at that; it was easy to tell if Abe was in the mood or not simply because he would start making quick little comments - nothing outrageous or obscene, just the occasional wry remark, innocent enough to go by largely unnoticed or with brief snorts of amusement from the others. Johann hadn't worked out if it was a sign of discomfort or just an odd side effect but it was a useful flag, gave Johann warning enough he could arrange for them to be alone - or close enough, anyway.
After the events at the Troll Market they had largely assumed that world would be cut off to them, but they couldn't have been more wrong; the human world was far from the only one to need assistance with stopping bad guys doing bad things. Admittedly exorcisms weren't as popular, but that likely had a fair amount to do with their clients either knowing how to deal with the undead or actually being undead themselves.
Perhaps it had been careless to assume a succubus would have no effect on him given his lacking certain equipment; certainly he'd been right in assuming no direct effect, though it had been outright foolish to return to the others while still sprayed with its venom.
Liz had taken one look at him before choking out "Clean up," and dragging Hellboy into their truck. It was a damn good job she did at that, given Abe utterly disregarded the fact the one thing separating them from public view was said truck blocking the main entrance to the garden. Indeed, if anyone had been in the overlooking house other than the newly-dead succubus and its similarly dead victims, they would have been about to get an interesting sight and a half.
Johann wondered if perhaps he owed the succubus an apology as Abe pushed him to the floor, straddling his lap and stripping off as if he had been waiting for this for days. Abe abandoned was something to behold, and it was irritating to think he'd brought nothing with him that he could safely use as a substitute for the flesh and blood he lacked, not that Abe seemed to mind the lack of assistance too much. Thankfully, he had been blessed with a creative nature and practical friends.
He didn't see if it was Liz or Hellboy who tossed the medical kit out of the truck before slamming its door shut but as much as he knew he'd been given it for the purpose of wiping his suit clean he was more preoccupied with the rubber gloves.
His body might be a little unforgiving, but the advantage of an ethereal form was not being restricted by one body's limitations. Fitting the gloves over his hands was a little tricky at first but Abe seemed to get the idea before he had a chance to explain; a relief given taping the edges securely in place would have been a nightmare otherwise.
Nothing ever truly substituted for flesh and blood, but the sounds Abe made suggested he didn't exactly mind, as did the way he moved, alternating between pushing back against the fingers inside him and forward into the ones wrapped around his erection. Johann doubted he would ever, could ever tire of the way Abe's gasps would fog up the glass of his face; he would never know everything of Abe, would never know the taste of his lips or smell of his skin, but he didn't resent those shortcomings as long as he had this. He might not have eyes but he could still see clearly, and he might not have skin with which to feel but he still knew the curves and straight planes of Abe's body; he knew Abe's webbing was largely numb, that Abe hated having his fins touched regardless of circumstance.
He also knew that when their sex life wasn't like this, spontaneous and desperate and eagerly skipping all foreplay, it was worth every effort. Abe was far from being only an eccentric, poetic genius; he was kind and generous, often witty and sometimes temperamental - he was complex, like any other person, and Johann had come to realise, much as he had with all the timepieces and clockwork curiosities he kept as a hobby, that he liked complexity.
For all his gasping and moaning beforehand, Abe made only the quietest sigh as he came, bucking into Johann's hand with a few brief thrusts, and as much as Johann disliked cleaning his suit he wasn't quite as unhappy about the idea of wiping off Abe's come as he had been about the succubus' venom.
"Sorry," Abe said a moment after, still a little breathless, as though he had anything to apologise for; helped to peel the tape away from Johann's wrists and discarded the gloves now that they had served their purpose. In theory it could have felt confining to return to his body in full, but in practise it was - comforting. They might not be as flexible as the gloves, but he knew his own hands well enough that resting them in the small of Abe's back felt far closer to natural like this.
"It seems our notes were wrong about the venom only working if ingested," Johann said, idly pressing his fingertips into Abe's skin, admiring the play of tension and softness depending on where one touched.
"The things I imagined," Abe said, sounding somewhere between mortified and curious. "Some of them couldn't have been legal."
Johann laughed despite himself before rolling over so he could reach for the first aid box again, picking out a few wipes so he could clean himself off. He wasn't sure if it was orgasm that had broken the venom's effect on Abe or if the effects simply wore off after long enough exposure to air, but it wasn't worth taking the risk of thinking safety was now assured. Besides, as much as Hellboy and Liz knew about his relationship with Abe, he doubted either would appreciate him wandering around marked by the results. "Legal or not, it might be worth discussion later," he said, unable to resist wondering what precisely Abe's dreams might contain.
Abe blushed a little before starting to dress, looking over at the truck a little hesitantly. "Do you suppose Hellboy and Liz are -?"
They had their answer before Abe could finish asking, the truck's windows blackening from the explosion inside.
There was a reason they didn't mind paying high insurance premiums.
"I guess so," Johann replied.
The passage of time was a funny thing, really, and if Hellboy hadn't started reminiscing about their holiday last year before the 'squalling brats' arrived - squalling brats who, of course, he utterly adored - Johann might have forgotten he and Abe were coming up to an anniversary of their own. It was rather strange to consider it such; everything had slid into place for them easily enough that it hadn't been long before he stopped thinking of things like days, weeks and months.
Abe seemed puzzled at first when Johann brought him dinner, and neither of them particularly liked gaudy celebrations so they'd simply returned to Johann's room as it was a little further from Liz and Hellboy's than Abe's was, even if the twins certainly had lungs with reach.
Abe's weren't exactly weak themselves, though they could still be tricked into near silence; especially when Johann had time enough to open him up and enjoy the way Abe's hands talked long after their owner was reduced to incoherency.
Some people expressed a preference for screamers; Johann considered it a challenge. That breath could be diverted elsewhere.
Normally Abe would return to his pool rather than rest wearing his breathing apparatus but rules were designed so that exceptions could be made - what else explained their own existence? - and Johann had no complaints about Abe sprawling across his lap, eyes closed as he gathered himself.
"Happy anniversary," Johann said, finding himself short of any words that didn't feel trite, instead settling for running a finger over the dark markings striping Abe's shoulders until he found his hand caught beneath a webbed one.
"I know," Abe said, flexing his hand for a moment. Johann sometimes forgot that; Abe might not be psychic in the traditional sense, but he had his abilities. "You don't say it, but I know."
"I should."
"No," Abe said, stretching, something in the movement as sinuous and graceful as any cat. "Why rush?"
Johann thought of making an argument, but found he had to agree. He rarely considered their longevity in a true sense.
Perhaps the strangest thing was that for all he had recognised, perhaps even understood Hellboy, Liz and Abe inside minutes of meeting them, it was the smaller details making them that way that had come to truly fascinate him.
And the idea of having years to learn even more?
There was no point pretending otherwise. He liked it.
The End
Fandom: Hellboy (movieverse)
Pairing: Johann Krauss/Abe Sapien; references to Hellboy/Liz
Rating: NC17 for slash
Dedicated: meabh_ for her exceedingly generous help_chile bid!
Summary: Whoever said everyday had to mean ordinary?
Author's Notes: One of the central scenes in this lifts the dialogue pretty much directly from this previous fic but you don't need to have read that story to understand it; just thought I'd give people a heads up in case it looked familiar.
Johann Krauss was an excellent reader of other people. As much as it was a useful talent, it did have the unfortunate effect of leading him to trust a little too much in first impressions. Hellboy he had quickly taken for a sullen teenager; Liz for a long-suffering, smart girl who wanted to like people but often didn't, and he'd been far from surprised to find out she'd been bullied; Abe he had taken for an eccentric, somewhat poetic genius.
Admittedly he'd been correct on all accounts, but summing them up so casually was foolish because there was so much more to them; just a day's observation would be enough to make that clear to anyone.
Given their initial lack of physical resources after leaving the BPRD - money was never too much of an issue given two of them had savings accounts going back the better part of a century - Johann found himself with more than enough time to get to know each of the group individually, rather than having to face them as a whole. Hellboy had been particularly excited when Johann invited him into what had been changing rooms - now his office - to learn a trick or two about welding.
Liz had proven, scarcely surprisingly, something of a natural with a blowtorch, but she lacked Hellboy's enthusiasm for the task; Abe had been eager to learn, but practicality demanded he should only learn the basics needed for repair work should an accident ever befall Johann's outfit on mission - Abe's skin simply dried out too quickly in the heat for anything more.
Despite knowing he would be spending extra time with Hellboy, Johann had expected their conversations to go much the way they always had - argumentative, professional, or a mixture of both. His expectations swiftly proved wrong; when Hellboy's mind and body were concentrated on the same task he became quite contemplative, tended to hum or whistle to himself, bite his tongue in concentration. And as much as Johann had never doubted Hellboy's love for Liz, getting to hear about the everyday joys and disasters that made up their relationship encouraged him to consider that love in a different light. Those two didn't just love each other by accident, they loved each other because they had a great deal in common, a similar sense of humour, both found the other attractive - and, more than anything, they worked at it.
It shed a new light on their quarrels too, but Johann had to admit he thought Liz's condition rendered their more recent fights a little exaggerated. She certainly seemed to be arguing for three on top of eating for them.
Liz herself was certainly an independent woman and for all that she and Hellboy spent most of their time together, Johann could not help but feel a little as if he had a kindred spirit in her. She had a maturity beyond her years and both of them respected the other's occasional desires for solitude; whenever she walked in on him tinkering with a watch or telescope she would leave him in peace, much as he would if he saw her sitting on her own by the open windows of what had been the main gym.
Maybe it was a side effect of having once been human - in Liz's case, still human - but he and Liz both needed the occasional rest from being social creatures. Thankfully, Abe and Hellboy were happy enough to provide banter for the both of them, and even if he didn't exactly have an expressive face he was fairly certain that he and Liz had something of an understanding when it came to implied rolling of eyes at the dinner table.
Abe had been a particular curiosity to him, which was a little ironic given he was also the chattiest of the group. After Nuala's death Abe had been a little sore, quite understandably, though he had started opening up again when it was pointed out that risking the world to save a loved one was scarcely new - wasn't even new amongst them.
Once Abe started talking, whether one gave the impression of listening or not, he barely stopped. It was strangely endearing; Abe's running commentary on the evolution of bath house piping as they worked to repair the pool's temperature controls would have had him smiling if he'd still had lips. He should probably have guessed then what was happening, but matters of the heart - even an ethereal one - often took leave of common sense.
One advantage of working for themselves was that, in theory, they could take holidays whenever they wished. In practise this wasn't quite the case; without Liz handy to play the human face of the group, finding work could be quite a struggle. People either laughed at their 'outrageous costumes' or ran screaming, leaving Abe and Johann to find other ways of preoccupying themselves while waiting for Liz and Hellboy to return from their break. Finally fixing the temperature controls for the pool took barely a day once they were no longer at risk of interruption, though fitting equipment for adding oxygen to the water was a little awkward.
Despite his being the one to design and build the main part of the system - and even by his own standards, he had to admit he was particularly pleased with both the efficiency and the look of the finished equipment - Johann had to ask Abe to install it. Draining the pool would have been a complete waste of resources when all the installation required was someone who could swim, but somewhat ironically despite his body being in essence a converted diving suit, the conversion work had taken away much of its waterproof nature. Certainly there were methods of waterproofing, but most of those had yet to be reclaimed from the BPRD.
Thankfully, Abe was smart enough to follow instructions without excessive explanation, and while Johann had no idea how it was that Abe could continue a conversation while underwater, he appreciated the talent.
Seeing Abe emerge from the newly warmed and properly oxygenated pool was something of a revelation. Johann hadn't really noticed the effect of being forced to shower for moisture and oxygen on Abe, had not realised Abe tended to keep complaints of discomfort to himself, but the difference in attitude was visible. Abe seemed happier than Johann had seen him in weeks, relaxation showing in the way he held himself and his voice taking on a more melodic quality, edging further and further away from the slight monotone he'd acquired after Nuala's death and towards something much closer to what Johann thought he had seen the first time they met.
Johann did not care much for traditional art, finding more beauty in the methods used to create than in the results, but early on he had felt that there was something about Abe meant for paint or sculpture. He'd paid as little attention as possible to that thought initially, did not wish to find himself distracted simply because, even in a world like theirs, Abe was exceptional.
Nonetheless decades of wearing the same suit and living the same life, plus his own nature even before the accident, had left Johann a practical man if not quite a romantic one.
Abe noticed him looking at the dinner table long before he said anything, Johann's plate empty as usual and Abe's half eaten. "What is it?" Abe had said.
Johann believed honesty and practicality went hand in hand. "You are a beautiful creature, Abraham Sapien."
He had only expected a polite response and was content to let it lie when Abe stopped blushing long enough to look up and say, "Thank you."
He had not expected a positive response, and when Abe followed up the thanks by leaning across the table and pressing a kiss against his glass, it was a decidedly pleasant surprise.
That first night there had been little he could do other than let himself out of the suit, spreading out across Abe's skin though he was only able to brush against it or dip in for a moment at a time, possessing briefly, but as learning curves went he had rarely been happier to start at the deep end. They had become more adventurous since, online shopping rendering the discreet purchase of certain items far easier than it had been when either of them were young, and it amused Johann to find ways of concealing them in amongst his more mechanical and innocent trinkets - not that those didn't have their own uses, of course.
Most times since their first had been equally wonderful, though he couldn't particularly rate the evening when he had been forced to hide in a storage closet by the poolside after Liz unknowingly interrupted them for a quick word; one of Abe's equally endearing and irritating talents was his tendency to gossip at length, and after fifteen minutes of 'a quick word', Johann had felt quite sore tempered and far from amorous.
They chose to let Liz and Hellboy know about their relationship after that. Two months of romantic entanglement was scarcely a flash in the pan - long lived as they both were, time still rolled by at much the same pace, even if they were prone to losing track of it - and hiding like teenagers wasn't exactly dignified.
"Really?" Hellboy grunted at breakfast, not taking his eyes off the mountain of sausages, bacon and eggs on his plate. "There's a surprise."
Johann traded confused looks with Abe before Liz piped up, "Abe, you talk in your sleep. Really loud."
"He does," Johann agreed, suddenly understanding, trying not to be amused by Abe's somewhat offended expression. "You do. Though rarely as loud as Liz claims."
"Maybe you're only loud when you're excited?" Liz suggested. "You did sound -"
"Guys," Hellboy groaned. "Trying to eat here!"
"We're just glad you aren't fighting," Liz said, sliding a few more pancakes onto her plate. "When we came back after the holiday and you two wouldn't make eye contact? You had us worried."
"Yeah," Hellboy said flatly, looking down at his own plate and sighing before switching from sausages to bacon. "And to think, you were just boning. What a relief."
Liz elbowed him in the side, smiling a little too sweetly. "What he means to say is thanks. For telling us."
Grumpy as Hellboy might have been initially, both he and Liz seemed to appreciate the honesty, and the fact everyone knew meant people could ask for privacy as and when they needed it.
Thank God. Because as much as Johann didn't technically have a libido, just a great deal of affection for Abe and an intense appreciation of his beauty, Abe certainly did have one. One that seemed tied to his sense of humour at that; it was easy to tell if Abe was in the mood or not simply because he would start making quick little comments - nothing outrageous or obscene, just the occasional wry remark, innocent enough to go by largely unnoticed or with brief snorts of amusement from the others. Johann hadn't worked out if it was a sign of discomfort or just an odd side effect but it was a useful flag, gave Johann warning enough he could arrange for them to be alone - or close enough, anyway.
After the events at the Troll Market they had largely assumed that world would be cut off to them, but they couldn't have been more wrong; the human world was far from the only one to need assistance with stopping bad guys doing bad things. Admittedly exorcisms weren't as popular, but that likely had a fair amount to do with their clients either knowing how to deal with the undead or actually being undead themselves.
Perhaps it had been careless to assume a succubus would have no effect on him given his lacking certain equipment; certainly he'd been right in assuming no direct effect, though it had been outright foolish to return to the others while still sprayed with its venom.
Liz had taken one look at him before choking out "Clean up," and dragging Hellboy into their truck. It was a damn good job she did at that, given Abe utterly disregarded the fact the one thing separating them from public view was said truck blocking the main entrance to the garden. Indeed, if anyone had been in the overlooking house other than the newly-dead succubus and its similarly dead victims, they would have been about to get an interesting sight and a half.
Johann wondered if perhaps he owed the succubus an apology as Abe pushed him to the floor, straddling his lap and stripping off as if he had been waiting for this for days. Abe abandoned was something to behold, and it was irritating to think he'd brought nothing with him that he could safely use as a substitute for the flesh and blood he lacked, not that Abe seemed to mind the lack of assistance too much. Thankfully, he had been blessed with a creative nature and practical friends.
He didn't see if it was Liz or Hellboy who tossed the medical kit out of the truck before slamming its door shut but as much as he knew he'd been given it for the purpose of wiping his suit clean he was more preoccupied with the rubber gloves.
His body might be a little unforgiving, but the advantage of an ethereal form was not being restricted by one body's limitations. Fitting the gloves over his hands was a little tricky at first but Abe seemed to get the idea before he had a chance to explain; a relief given taping the edges securely in place would have been a nightmare otherwise.
Nothing ever truly substituted for flesh and blood, but the sounds Abe made suggested he didn't exactly mind, as did the way he moved, alternating between pushing back against the fingers inside him and forward into the ones wrapped around his erection. Johann doubted he would ever, could ever tire of the way Abe's gasps would fog up the glass of his face; he would never know everything of Abe, would never know the taste of his lips or smell of his skin, but he didn't resent those shortcomings as long as he had this. He might not have eyes but he could still see clearly, and he might not have skin with which to feel but he still knew the curves and straight planes of Abe's body; he knew Abe's webbing was largely numb, that Abe hated having his fins touched regardless of circumstance.
He also knew that when their sex life wasn't like this, spontaneous and desperate and eagerly skipping all foreplay, it was worth every effort. Abe was far from being only an eccentric, poetic genius; he was kind and generous, often witty and sometimes temperamental - he was complex, like any other person, and Johann had come to realise, much as he had with all the timepieces and clockwork curiosities he kept as a hobby, that he liked complexity.
For all his gasping and moaning beforehand, Abe made only the quietest sigh as he came, bucking into Johann's hand with a few brief thrusts, and as much as Johann disliked cleaning his suit he wasn't quite as unhappy about the idea of wiping off Abe's come as he had been about the succubus' venom.
"Sorry," Abe said a moment after, still a little breathless, as though he had anything to apologise for; helped to peel the tape away from Johann's wrists and discarded the gloves now that they had served their purpose. In theory it could have felt confining to return to his body in full, but in practise it was - comforting. They might not be as flexible as the gloves, but he knew his own hands well enough that resting them in the small of Abe's back felt far closer to natural like this.
"It seems our notes were wrong about the venom only working if ingested," Johann said, idly pressing his fingertips into Abe's skin, admiring the play of tension and softness depending on where one touched.
"The things I imagined," Abe said, sounding somewhere between mortified and curious. "Some of them couldn't have been legal."
Johann laughed despite himself before rolling over so he could reach for the first aid box again, picking out a few wipes so he could clean himself off. He wasn't sure if it was orgasm that had broken the venom's effect on Abe or if the effects simply wore off after long enough exposure to air, but it wasn't worth taking the risk of thinking safety was now assured. Besides, as much as Hellboy and Liz knew about his relationship with Abe, he doubted either would appreciate him wandering around marked by the results. "Legal or not, it might be worth discussion later," he said, unable to resist wondering what precisely Abe's dreams might contain.
Abe blushed a little before starting to dress, looking over at the truck a little hesitantly. "Do you suppose Hellboy and Liz are -?"
They had their answer before Abe could finish asking, the truck's windows blackening from the explosion inside.
There was a reason they didn't mind paying high insurance premiums.
"I guess so," Johann replied.
The passage of time was a funny thing, really, and if Hellboy hadn't started reminiscing about their holiday last year before the 'squalling brats' arrived - squalling brats who, of course, he utterly adored - Johann might have forgotten he and Abe were coming up to an anniversary of their own. It was rather strange to consider it such; everything had slid into place for them easily enough that it hadn't been long before he stopped thinking of things like days, weeks and months.
Abe seemed puzzled at first when Johann brought him dinner, and neither of them particularly liked gaudy celebrations so they'd simply returned to Johann's room as it was a little further from Liz and Hellboy's than Abe's was, even if the twins certainly had lungs with reach.
Abe's weren't exactly weak themselves, though they could still be tricked into near silence; especially when Johann had time enough to open him up and enjoy the way Abe's hands talked long after their owner was reduced to incoherency.
Some people expressed a preference for screamers; Johann considered it a challenge. That breath could be diverted elsewhere.
Normally Abe would return to his pool rather than rest wearing his breathing apparatus but rules were designed so that exceptions could be made - what else explained their own existence? - and Johann had no complaints about Abe sprawling across his lap, eyes closed as he gathered himself.
"Happy anniversary," Johann said, finding himself short of any words that didn't feel trite, instead settling for running a finger over the dark markings striping Abe's shoulders until he found his hand caught beneath a webbed one.
"I know," Abe said, flexing his hand for a moment. Johann sometimes forgot that; Abe might not be psychic in the traditional sense, but he had his abilities. "You don't say it, but I know."
"I should."
"No," Abe said, stretching, something in the movement as sinuous and graceful as any cat. "Why rush?"
Johann thought of making an argument, but found he had to agree. He rarely considered their longevity in a true sense.
Perhaps the strangest thing was that for all he had recognised, perhaps even understood Hellboy, Liz and Abe inside minutes of meeting them, it was the smaller details making them that way that had come to truly fascinate him.
And the idea of having years to learn even more?
There was no point pretending otherwise. He liked it.
The End