Fic: Resistance is Futile (Claude/Adam) 7/9
Title; Resistance is Futile
Pairing; Claude/Adam
Summary: Fifteen years ago, Claude comes across someone he shouldn't have in the Company basement. Now, he must face him again.
Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own words.
The handcuffs weren’t as tight as he’d feared they’d be. Thankfully, the guards (not the gorilla like goons he’d pictured, but very intimidating nonetheless) had let him keep his hands in front. Small mercy. It shriveled into nonexistence when faced with Bob’s thunderous expression looming above him. Claude sat in a metallic chair, the same make as the one in Adam’s cell, as was the bed and the table and the four walls standing rigid much too close, likely the last walls he’d ever see, for his crime was not one that this man was likely to forgive. It certainly didn’t look like he would. Claude shifted in his chair, or squirmed, rather, and though at any other time the action would have been embarrassing, right now his dignity was already whimpering in the corner. The chair’s hard back dug uncomfortably into the middle of his spine, but he was still too dazed by the memory of the bullet tearing through his hip to mind. Not that it hurt anymore. The wound was gone. Broken bone. Ruptured muscle. Cut skin. All whole and perfect.. Better than new. His hand kept hovering over it, but he was afraid to touch. Instead, he stared at the bullet hole perforating his trousers, the ragged, blood soaked edges gaping at him, threads still moist, but beneath there was nothing. Nothing at all.
To answer those questions that Claude didn’t dare voice, Bob explained to him that he’d noticed his missing keys since day one, and though it’d taken him two more days to realize that Adam’s cell lock was being left open for an inordinate amount of time, he’d quickly figured where a certain new recruit was spending his time. No mention of how Bob noticed Claude’s latest arrival at the cell, but he suspected that a new, hidden alarm was involved or perhaps a secret camera. How else? Yet despite the discomfort and urgent panic attacking his nerves, part of Claude wished that Bob had noticed it sooner. It would have spared him the headache squeezing in his skull as the bullet wound, Adam’s last inscrutable look, and the words Bob had just spoken rattled around in his brain, shooting off like demented firecrackers. Adam hadn’t been completely honest about why he was in here. Claude had figured that much. But the real reason, the damning, soul-shattering, how is that even possible reason was so much worse than anything he could have imagined.
“But,” he stuttered, staring at Bob, hoping, praying that there was some trick involved. “How could he have done that?”
“Mr. Rains, Adam Monroe nearly killed every person on this planet. He’s the most dangerous person you’ll ever meet. Believe me, if he’d succeeded in escaping, he would have only tried to release the virus again.”
Claude gripped the seat of his chair, mind racing between desperate disbelief and questioning of his own judgment. He knew he should have been more cautious, that these cells held dangerous people, especially here. Wasn’t this the most secure area in the whole building? What other kind of people would they keep locked up? But the Company had abducted him, treating him like a lab rat with needles stuck in his arm injecting fluids that the supposed “doctor” refused to explain and this cut in his shoulder, which rankled at his pride. He couldn’t even remember for how long they’d kept him like that. These people hardly cared to distinguish between their assets and liabilities, as Adam had pointed out, but then again, that was Adam, the mass murderer. Why should Claude believe anything he said? What either of them said? Bob wasn’t trustworthy, either. And. Adam had healed him. With hostile guards meters away and not a second to spare, he’d grabbed Claude and gave him his blood. Those few, fleeting moments might have cost him his ticket out of here. One of the guards was able to catch up with him not long after they captured Claude, or so Bob said. If Adam was so perverse, why didn’t he just leave him on the staircase bleeding to death? Why bother at all?
“I want to talk to him,” Claude said.
“Not possible. It wouldn’t do you any good, anyway. I’m sure that he’d find some way to talk himself out of any guilt and redeem himself in your eyes if you gave him the chance, and you’ve already given him too many. What I can do is allow you to listen to him speak with me.”
“What good will that do me?”
“I can’t tell you about “good”, but it will confirm what I’ve told you.”
Claude considered the offer, knowing that the real choice lay between being banished to this little cell forever or breathing fresh air again. He nodded.
“Okay,” Bob said. “You may turn invisible so he won’t see you and remain in the guards custody for the whole duration. You will be silent, not betraying any sign of your presence. If you attempt to make contact in any way, you won’t find me so forgiving. Is that clear?”
Claude nodded again. His throat was dry, tongue clinging to the roof of his mouth.
The same guards who’d chased him down gripped him firmly by the upper arms, marching him out of the cell after he turned them invisible. They didn’t need to be so vigilant. He wasn’t stupid enough to run now. They crept up to Adam’s cell, so quietly that he hardly heard his own footsteps. Adam paced around the room, hands on his hips, squeezing so hard that Claude could see the indentations made by his fingers on his shirt. He turned sharply toward the door when Bob opened it, scowling, and for a second Claude though he was going to attack him, his fury flaring red hot, twisting his face. But he calmed down, crossing his arms tightly as he shot Bob a vicious sneer. Bob merely folded his hands in front of him, waiting patiently for Adam to bark.
“Well, you got your bird back in your cage. Congratulation. But you can’t hold me forever.”
“We’ll hold you for as long as we can, which I assure you will be a long time to come. So it would be best if you put any ideas about escape out of your mind.”
“A long time for you, maybe. Not for me. I’m a patient man.”
“And yet you seemed in such a hurry to leave our care. Eager to release the virus, no doubt?”
Claude’s breath clenched in his throat, all hope and concentration fixed on Adam.
“If it’ll rid me of you. But like I said. I’m a patient man. I’ll wait all the time that I need, then I’ll wipe this world clean.”
The ground trembled beneath Claude’s feet. It was true. All of it. How could Claude have been so stupid?
“How’s Claude?”
Claude looked up, startled.
“You’re actually concerned for him? That’s not like you.”
“Don’t bother trying to decipher my motivations. Just answer me.”
“He’s fine. Not a scratch on him. A bit upset, though, now that he knows that you were only using him. Tell me, were you even planning on telling him about the virus?”
“Why would I?”
Claude scratched his hip compulsively. He couldn’t listen anymore. It hurt, deep inside: But why should this be surprising at all? He was thankful when Adam sat down on the bed, turning away from Bob with a violent motion.
“I don’t feel like answering any more of your questions. Go away.”
Bob did so, exiting the cell, and the guards dragged Claude away.
||||
Snow dripped down Claude’s boots onto the motel carpet. The hot air of the building stifled him, making his skin sweat, but deep inside him it was still burning cold. Colder than the snow, colder than the wind howling outside, colder even than the heart of the man who, if he followed any sense or reason, would no longer be in that room sitting behind the door inches away from Claude’s face, but when had Adam made any sense, anyhow? Claude slid his card key out of his pocket, hesitated, then jammed it in its slot, quick in and out, and the lock clicked open. It still worked. Adam must be here. He held the handle turned downwards to keep the door unbolted, but he didn’t push, unsure if this was some belated mercy or a further trial sent upon him. Then he heard it. The soft hum of tiny voices chattering on a TV screen and a small clatter, perhaps a glass being set down on the table. Unmistaken signs of his presence. And Claude was so hungry. He pushed the door open, shutting it behind him before regaining visibility. Adam sat up on the bed, gaping at him, then fumbled with the remote to turn off the TV. Claude had never seen such shock on his face, but that wasn’t what startled him. It was the relief, genuine relief flickering for a second before being covered up by a vexed frown.
“Where the hell have you been?” Adam asked, standing up and stalking towards him. “It’s been two days. I even went looking for you.”
Looking for an invisible man? Waste of time. But Claude had seen him yesterday at a small park to the east side of town, hands thrust in his pockets to ward off the cold, accentuating the hunched expression of his shoulders as he scanned through the little, gnarled trees clustered along the dirt paths, but he didn’t seem to be actively searching with his eyes. Rather casting them wide in hopes that they might meet his own, for how could he resist that when Adam looked so persistent, strolling around the park three times before finally moving on, but Claude made no move towards him, not once. But he stayed. He could have left as soon as Adam arrived, avoiding the whole farce, but he didn’t. And their eyes met, once, for a second, a blink of time of the same duration as that of a random glance crossing a stranger’s on the street, but this was no stranger and it was by no means random, though Adam didn’t know it. Those same eyes that glowered at him now, demanding, but he was tired of dancing to Adam’s tune. Stepping forward, he grabbed Adam by the back of the neck and kissed him, hard, trapping anything else the man might have to say in his surprised mouth.
“Take off your clothes,” Claude hissed, pulling at Adam’s shirt.
“What?”
“Take them off.”
Adam stared at him, bewildered, and Claude accentuated his request by yanking open the button of Adam’s trousers, prompting him to pull back. He didn’t smile, didn’t speak, just did what he was told, keeping his eyes on Claude’s even as he pulled his shirt over his head. Claude threw his own clothes on the floor, scrapping his skin with his nails as he struggled to get them off as fast as possible. An itch scratched inside him, growing since the minute Adam had forced him to admit the pain seething inside him from Bennet’s betrayal, the never healing wound clawing in his flesh. He needed to feel skin other than his won, another’s heat throbbing against his heart, blurring the thoughts and doubts and screams rambling in his brain. Adam’s warmth hit him like a splash of boiling water as he pressed against him, overwhelming him so completely that for a second he couldn’t breathe. Claude pushed him back towards the bed, groping, stroking everywhere he could reach, tugging at Adam’s bottom lip with his teeth. Adam stumbled back and they fell, striking the mattress with a loud jolt, and he felt Adam’s erection hard against his thigh. Adam gazed up at him, dazed, yet hungry, mouth as eager as his as he kissed down Claude’s jaw, teeth scraping his skin as Claude pushed between his legs, lifting Adam’s thighs high around his waist. Adam dug his heels into his ribs so tightly that it ached, but the greater pain would be to not sink into that warm, welcoming body rubbing against him. There was no warning, no gentleness, only harsh, raw need as Claude thrust into him, Adam’s tight heat almost smothering him, and for a second his heart almost stopped. Adam moaned, the shout lingering in the air as he gripped the back of Claude’s neck. Claude grabbed his wrist, crushing it down on the bed as he moved, every bit as violently as in the first thrust, but Adam wouldn’t stop looking at him with that challenging expression, dominating him despite Claude’s superior position. So he turned them invisible. And Adam gasped, delectable sound, his mouth already wide and trembling as he looked down at their bodies, but he couldn’t see anything besides the bouncing bed and the TV behind. Adam’s eyes sharpened like the razor edge of a knife. He grasped Claude’s face, thumb stumbling on his eyebrow before settling at the corner of his right eye, and he looked straight into Claude’s eyes, just like in the park,. Searing like the full glare of the sun. Claude pushed down Adam’s other hand on the mattress and shut his eyes, focusing only on the heat rising inside his body, on the erection pressed hard against his stomach, on Adam’s cries tingling in his ears, mixing with his own and soon he couldn’t tell them apart, the subtle cadence lost in the turmoil breaking in his soul, ice crumbling into dust. Adam clenched around him, arching up as he came, ecstasy gleaming on his sweating face. Claude followed soon after, burying his head in Adam’s shoulder, as he spent himself deep inside him.
He collapsed, lungs burning, whole body shaking. Adam’s hands felt soothing on his back, comforting strokes up and down his spine. Claude barely raised himself up enough for Adam to lower his legs, then fell back on his chest, closing his eyes.
Part Eight
Pairing; Claude/Adam
Summary: Fifteen years ago, Claude comes across someone he shouldn't have in the Company basement. Now, he must face him again.
Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own words.
The handcuffs weren’t as tight as he’d feared they’d be. Thankfully, the guards (not the gorilla like goons he’d pictured, but very intimidating nonetheless) had let him keep his hands in front. Small mercy. It shriveled into nonexistence when faced with Bob’s thunderous expression looming above him. Claude sat in a metallic chair, the same make as the one in Adam’s cell, as was the bed and the table and the four walls standing rigid much too close, likely the last walls he’d ever see, for his crime was not one that this man was likely to forgive. It certainly didn’t look like he would. Claude shifted in his chair, or squirmed, rather, and though at any other time the action would have been embarrassing, right now his dignity was already whimpering in the corner. The chair’s hard back dug uncomfortably into the middle of his spine, but he was still too dazed by the memory of the bullet tearing through his hip to mind. Not that it hurt anymore. The wound was gone. Broken bone. Ruptured muscle. Cut skin. All whole and perfect.. Better than new. His hand kept hovering over it, but he was afraid to touch. Instead, he stared at the bullet hole perforating his trousers, the ragged, blood soaked edges gaping at him, threads still moist, but beneath there was nothing. Nothing at all.
To answer those questions that Claude didn’t dare voice, Bob explained to him that he’d noticed his missing keys since day one, and though it’d taken him two more days to realize that Adam’s cell lock was being left open for an inordinate amount of time, he’d quickly figured where a certain new recruit was spending his time. No mention of how Bob noticed Claude’s latest arrival at the cell, but he suspected that a new, hidden alarm was involved or perhaps a secret camera. How else? Yet despite the discomfort and urgent panic attacking his nerves, part of Claude wished that Bob had noticed it sooner. It would have spared him the headache squeezing in his skull as the bullet wound, Adam’s last inscrutable look, and the words Bob had just spoken rattled around in his brain, shooting off like demented firecrackers. Adam hadn’t been completely honest about why he was in here. Claude had figured that much. But the real reason, the damning, soul-shattering, how is that even possible reason was so much worse than anything he could have imagined.
“But,” he stuttered, staring at Bob, hoping, praying that there was some trick involved. “How could he have done that?”
“Mr. Rains, Adam Monroe nearly killed every person on this planet. He’s the most dangerous person you’ll ever meet. Believe me, if he’d succeeded in escaping, he would have only tried to release the virus again.”
Claude gripped the seat of his chair, mind racing between desperate disbelief and questioning of his own judgment. He knew he should have been more cautious, that these cells held dangerous people, especially here. Wasn’t this the most secure area in the whole building? What other kind of people would they keep locked up? But the Company had abducted him, treating him like a lab rat with needles stuck in his arm injecting fluids that the supposed “doctor” refused to explain and this cut in his shoulder, which rankled at his pride. He couldn’t even remember for how long they’d kept him like that. These people hardly cared to distinguish between their assets and liabilities, as Adam had pointed out, but then again, that was Adam, the mass murderer. Why should Claude believe anything he said? What either of them said? Bob wasn’t trustworthy, either. And. Adam had healed him. With hostile guards meters away and not a second to spare, he’d grabbed Claude and gave him his blood. Those few, fleeting moments might have cost him his ticket out of here. One of the guards was able to catch up with him not long after they captured Claude, or so Bob said. If Adam was so perverse, why didn’t he just leave him on the staircase bleeding to death? Why bother at all?
“I want to talk to him,” Claude said.
“Not possible. It wouldn’t do you any good, anyway. I’m sure that he’d find some way to talk himself out of any guilt and redeem himself in your eyes if you gave him the chance, and you’ve already given him too many. What I can do is allow you to listen to him speak with me.”
“What good will that do me?”
“I can’t tell you about “good”, but it will confirm what I’ve told you.”
Claude considered the offer, knowing that the real choice lay between being banished to this little cell forever or breathing fresh air again. He nodded.
“Okay,” Bob said. “You may turn invisible so he won’t see you and remain in the guards custody for the whole duration. You will be silent, not betraying any sign of your presence. If you attempt to make contact in any way, you won’t find me so forgiving. Is that clear?”
Claude nodded again. His throat was dry, tongue clinging to the roof of his mouth.
The same guards who’d chased him down gripped him firmly by the upper arms, marching him out of the cell after he turned them invisible. They didn’t need to be so vigilant. He wasn’t stupid enough to run now. They crept up to Adam’s cell, so quietly that he hardly heard his own footsteps. Adam paced around the room, hands on his hips, squeezing so hard that Claude could see the indentations made by his fingers on his shirt. He turned sharply toward the door when Bob opened it, scowling, and for a second Claude though he was going to attack him, his fury flaring red hot, twisting his face. But he calmed down, crossing his arms tightly as he shot Bob a vicious sneer. Bob merely folded his hands in front of him, waiting patiently for Adam to bark.
“Well, you got your bird back in your cage. Congratulation. But you can’t hold me forever.”
“We’ll hold you for as long as we can, which I assure you will be a long time to come. So it would be best if you put any ideas about escape out of your mind.”
“A long time for you, maybe. Not for me. I’m a patient man.”
“And yet you seemed in such a hurry to leave our care. Eager to release the virus, no doubt?”
Claude’s breath clenched in his throat, all hope and concentration fixed on Adam.
“If it’ll rid me of you. But like I said. I’m a patient man. I’ll wait all the time that I need, then I’ll wipe this world clean.”
The ground trembled beneath Claude’s feet. It was true. All of it. How could Claude have been so stupid?
“How’s Claude?”
Claude looked up, startled.
“You’re actually concerned for him? That’s not like you.”
“Don’t bother trying to decipher my motivations. Just answer me.”
“He’s fine. Not a scratch on him. A bit upset, though, now that he knows that you were only using him. Tell me, were you even planning on telling him about the virus?”
“Why would I?”
Claude scratched his hip compulsively. He couldn’t listen anymore. It hurt, deep inside: But why should this be surprising at all? He was thankful when Adam sat down on the bed, turning away from Bob with a violent motion.
“I don’t feel like answering any more of your questions. Go away.”
Bob did so, exiting the cell, and the guards dragged Claude away.
||||
Snow dripped down Claude’s boots onto the motel carpet. The hot air of the building stifled him, making his skin sweat, but deep inside him it was still burning cold. Colder than the snow, colder than the wind howling outside, colder even than the heart of the man who, if he followed any sense or reason, would no longer be in that room sitting behind the door inches away from Claude’s face, but when had Adam made any sense, anyhow? Claude slid his card key out of his pocket, hesitated, then jammed it in its slot, quick in and out, and the lock clicked open. It still worked. Adam must be here. He held the handle turned downwards to keep the door unbolted, but he didn’t push, unsure if this was some belated mercy or a further trial sent upon him. Then he heard it. The soft hum of tiny voices chattering on a TV screen and a small clatter, perhaps a glass being set down on the table. Unmistaken signs of his presence. And Claude was so hungry. He pushed the door open, shutting it behind him before regaining visibility. Adam sat up on the bed, gaping at him, then fumbled with the remote to turn off the TV. Claude had never seen such shock on his face, but that wasn’t what startled him. It was the relief, genuine relief flickering for a second before being covered up by a vexed frown.
“Where the hell have you been?” Adam asked, standing up and stalking towards him. “It’s been two days. I even went looking for you.”
Looking for an invisible man? Waste of time. But Claude had seen him yesterday at a small park to the east side of town, hands thrust in his pockets to ward off the cold, accentuating the hunched expression of his shoulders as he scanned through the little, gnarled trees clustered along the dirt paths, but he didn’t seem to be actively searching with his eyes. Rather casting them wide in hopes that they might meet his own, for how could he resist that when Adam looked so persistent, strolling around the park three times before finally moving on, but Claude made no move towards him, not once. But he stayed. He could have left as soon as Adam arrived, avoiding the whole farce, but he didn’t. And their eyes met, once, for a second, a blink of time of the same duration as that of a random glance crossing a stranger’s on the street, but this was no stranger and it was by no means random, though Adam didn’t know it. Those same eyes that glowered at him now, demanding, but he was tired of dancing to Adam’s tune. Stepping forward, he grabbed Adam by the back of the neck and kissed him, hard, trapping anything else the man might have to say in his surprised mouth.
“Take off your clothes,” Claude hissed, pulling at Adam’s shirt.
“What?”
“Take them off.”
Adam stared at him, bewildered, and Claude accentuated his request by yanking open the button of Adam’s trousers, prompting him to pull back. He didn’t smile, didn’t speak, just did what he was told, keeping his eyes on Claude’s even as he pulled his shirt over his head. Claude threw his own clothes on the floor, scrapping his skin with his nails as he struggled to get them off as fast as possible. An itch scratched inside him, growing since the minute Adam had forced him to admit the pain seething inside him from Bennet’s betrayal, the never healing wound clawing in his flesh. He needed to feel skin other than his won, another’s heat throbbing against his heart, blurring the thoughts and doubts and screams rambling in his brain. Adam’s warmth hit him like a splash of boiling water as he pressed against him, overwhelming him so completely that for a second he couldn’t breathe. Claude pushed him back towards the bed, groping, stroking everywhere he could reach, tugging at Adam’s bottom lip with his teeth. Adam stumbled back and they fell, striking the mattress with a loud jolt, and he felt Adam’s erection hard against his thigh. Adam gazed up at him, dazed, yet hungry, mouth as eager as his as he kissed down Claude’s jaw, teeth scraping his skin as Claude pushed between his legs, lifting Adam’s thighs high around his waist. Adam dug his heels into his ribs so tightly that it ached, but the greater pain would be to not sink into that warm, welcoming body rubbing against him. There was no warning, no gentleness, only harsh, raw need as Claude thrust into him, Adam’s tight heat almost smothering him, and for a second his heart almost stopped. Adam moaned, the shout lingering in the air as he gripped the back of Claude’s neck. Claude grabbed his wrist, crushing it down on the bed as he moved, every bit as violently as in the first thrust, but Adam wouldn’t stop looking at him with that challenging expression, dominating him despite Claude’s superior position. So he turned them invisible. And Adam gasped, delectable sound, his mouth already wide and trembling as he looked down at their bodies, but he couldn’t see anything besides the bouncing bed and the TV behind. Adam’s eyes sharpened like the razor edge of a knife. He grasped Claude’s face, thumb stumbling on his eyebrow before settling at the corner of his right eye, and he looked straight into Claude’s eyes, just like in the park,. Searing like the full glare of the sun. Claude pushed down Adam’s other hand on the mattress and shut his eyes, focusing only on the heat rising inside his body, on the erection pressed hard against his stomach, on Adam’s cries tingling in his ears, mixing with his own and soon he couldn’t tell them apart, the subtle cadence lost in the turmoil breaking in his soul, ice crumbling into dust. Adam clenched around him, arching up as he came, ecstasy gleaming on his sweating face. Claude followed soon after, burying his head in Adam’s shoulder, as he spent himself deep inside him.
He collapsed, lungs burning, whole body shaking. Adam’s hands felt soothing on his back, comforting strokes up and down his spine. Claude barely raised himself up enough for Adam to lower his legs, then fell back on his chest, closing his eyes.
Part Eight