(Untitled)

[nowait_letme]

He leads them to the steel-reinforced room from yesterday.

No sense wasting it.

The feeling that there are two people behind him when he hears only one set of footsteps is... strange.

Not entirely unpleasant, but strange.

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[temperabimus]

Bruce feels like he's wading in memories. Heat and passion, affection and lust, warm skin on warm skin-- he relaxes slowly into the grip of control, trusting Chainsaw because Will trusts him, and in the same way: exactly as far as he can be predicted.

Two steps into the room he stops, squeezing his eyes shut and trembling slightly. Chainsaw's hands are on his face in the next second, cupping his jaw, stroking his cheeks, soothing and comforting. He relaxes into that, too.

"And another after that," he whispers, and isn't sure which one of him said it.

"And another," murmurs Chainsaw. His voice sounds rough with emotion. Love, Will identifies; Bruce swallows confusion and steps forward.

"I don't know you," he whispers hoarsely, through a wash of fear he knows is entirely justified.

[nowait_letme]

Chainsaw tenses slightly. His hands slip from Will's (Bruce's) face to his shoulders; when he feels Bruce (Will) lean forward, into his arms, he sighs unhurried resignation and gathers this man who is and isn't his lover up to his chest.

[temperabimus]

"I... he... Will knows you. Will-- loves you."

He stumbles on the word, shivering, leaning heavily into Chainsaw's steadying embrace. He can feel Will being as not-there as possible, trying not to influence his thoughts. Trying to let this be his choice.

"I don't."

His eyes are shut tight, his face buried in Chainsaw's shoulder. He lifts his head without opening them, knowing exactly where to stop the motion so that his next words sound directly into the torturer's ear.

"I want to," he says, softly but clearly. "Know you. I want to know you. I..." he feels his cheek heating against Chainsaw's, stumbles again, and continues with diminishing steadiness. "I want. You. I know I don't... get a choice, not now; I know it's too late to say no."

"And has been since you got up from that table," Chainsaw agrees in a low, husky whisper, smoothing a hand down his back.

"But I want you, Chainsaw."

"You want me to fuck you," the torturer clarifies, pulling back and cupping his face again. At the prompting of some instinct, he doesn't know

[nowait_letme]

Chainsaw's eyes meet Bruce's (Will's), and he raises his eyebrows.

"You're a lot like Will," he says at last. "A fuck of a lot like, and not just 'cause you both have the same pretty face."