FIC: Words/Silence/Flesh - "Full Dark."
You can find a complete chronological listing of the journal entries that make up "Words/Silence/Flesh," including links and short synopses here.
This one's for the lovely caras_galadhon.
When I woke up, the clock on the nightstand read 2:57 AM. I turned over, determined to fall back to sleep when I heard the knocking. Way too late for someone to be at the door. Or way too early. Sean still asleep, warm and solid, and next to me. Where he was supposed to be. After everything that happened the last few days, I guess I wasn’t thinking past not wanted him to wake. I didn’t grab clothes, just got up, wandered down the hall to the living room, and opened the door to find Harry, hand raised to knock again.
He was smiling. Not a good sign. I don’t remember what he said, the words burned away in a flash of anger. My hands curled into fists. His fucking fault. This whole mess was his fault. His fault Sean was fucked up. It was Sean’s name on his lips that jarred my focus back to him, made me shove him, warn him to shut the fuck up. I should have hit him. Hard.
Shoving was stupid because Harry bumped into the small table by the door, and a bowl I tossed my keys in to keep them from going missing wobbled and then crashed to the floor. I winced at the noise and again at Sean’s sleepy voice calling my name.
Harry grinned, his gaze locked with mine. I couldn’t look away, couldn’t swallow past a tightness in my throat. Sean called again, more awake now and louder, asking if things were okay.
Even though I knew what Harry was going to do, I shook my head, murmured a soft, “No,” but that didn’t keep Harry from shouting, "Just fine, love. Don't worry your pretty head."
I heard Sean padding down the hall, but I couldn’t turn away from Harry. Not even when I heard Sean say his name. A friendly quip about hoping Sean had a good flight back was all it took to unlock Sean, send him barreling toward Harry. It let me move too, and I caught Sean around the waist, pulled him back.
Sean fought against me, for real, not play. Called Harry a bastard or a fucker, probably both, and Harry said something about his manners, and then his gaze went to me, moved over me in a darkly possessive way that would have had me instantly hard if it came from Sean.
I thought Sean was fighting me full before, but he struggled harder. I don’t think he heard a word I said as I tried to talk him down.
"Tell me, Sean, just for curiosity's sake, how long did it take you to strip him down and slide into his sweet, tight ass once you got here? Hmm?"
Of course talk like that didn’t make my job any easier. What it did was take me by surprise, so when Sean lunged hard, he broke loose and slammed Harry against the wall. "Don't even fucking look at him, you bastard."
Naturally, that was exactly what Harry did. I swallowed, could almost feel that gaze against my skin, lingering over me. "Good chest, nice ass. Does he have a nice cock, Sean? Just the right fit for your mouth? Your bound-to-be-tight ass?"
Honestly, I’m not sure if Harry was being stupid or suicidal. Maybe both. Sean was yelling, shaking Harry, demanding the pictures. He had an arm across Harry’s throat by the time I gave him the stack. He dropped them, all but the one he shoved at Harry.
"You see this?” Sean’s voice was shaking with rage. “Do you? Look at it, you fucker!"
Harry’s gaze settled on the picture. He grinned. "Pretty, isn't it?"
Oh, no.
The next few minutes were full of shouting (mostly Sean) and grappling (both of them equally) while Sean tried to cram a photo down Harry’s throat. I could understand wanting to take a swing or three at Harry, but this… this wanting him to take back that couldn’t be taken back…it wasn’t healthy. When Sean wanted me to help, grab Harry’s arms so he couldn’t struggle, I couldn’t. I touched Sean, asked him to let Harry loose. But he didn’t listen.
"What? Not man enough to take me on yourself, Sean?" Harry’s arm shifted and I didn’t have to look down to know where he was touching. Death wish. Crazy bastard had a death wish. He shrugged then. "Guess not."
Fuck. Before I could anything, Sean grabbed Harry, pulled him closer, then shoved him a lot harder than I had earlier. Harry tripped on the rug, fell, and Sean was on him, straddling his chest, pinning him down.
Harry grinned, and I could have sworn I saw a flash of satisfaction in his eyes. Anger, sure, but more than that. "I think our positions should be reversed. You’re the one who needs a good hard fucking into the floor, Sean."
"Shut the fuck up." Sean didn’t look away from Harry as demanded more of the pictures.
Those fucking pictures.
I went over, touched his hair, tried to talk him down. There were still dark glimmers of satisfaction in Harry’s eyes, and I knew Sean was giving him exactly what he wanted. Though fucked if I knew what Harry that was. All I knew was that if Harry wanted it, if Harry was determined to use Sean to get it, I couldn’t let that happen.
"You know what? It would be so easy for you to suck him off right now, Sean” Harry’s gaze went to my cock.” I think I'd like to see that."
God damn it. Sean’s attention, which had started to wander a little to me, instantly snapped back to Harry. And I felt…angry? Hurt? I felt defeated, not able to compete with the power Harry held over him. Defeated and desperate to deny Harry whatever pleasure he hoped to get from this.
No soft touches or pleading could keep Sean from focusing on beating and busting heads and breaking teeth. On those stupid fucking pictures. He told me I couldn’t stop him, not to bother trying. Sean held on to things longer, harder, than I did. I hoped if I didn’t get the pictures, his anger would wear down. A little. Enough to let him slip the leash Harry had on him.
Then Miranda fucked it all up by dropping the pictures next to Sean in a whoosh of paper. How long had she and Dave been there watching?
That was all it took to give Sean a second wind. He balled one up, tried to cram it into Harry’s mouth. Harry could fight enough to keep Sean from getting what he wanted, but not enough to get free. When I grabbed Sean’s arm to try to pull him away, he didn’t even look at me when he told me not to touch him.
Me. I shouldn’t touch him. Couldn’t touch him. But Harry was. Something snapped in me at that. I caught his wrist in a white-knuckled grip, pulled his arm away from Harry. He yelled at me, fought against me. At least I’d stolen that much of his attention from Harry. When Sean twisted his hand sharply to try as he tried to break free, I gritted my teeth and held tight.
Harry’s gaze was locked on me, and I could swear a faint smile curved his lips as he watched. No fucking way you’re having him. No way.
Sean snarled, the sound all frustration and inarticulate anger as he shoved away from Harry, staggered to his feet. He pulled at my hold on him, muttered, "This isn't over, you fuck," as he stepped over Harry. I wasn’t sure if he was talking to Harry or me as I watched him storm down the hall, slam the door to our room shut hard enough to make the pictures on the wall rattle.
Shit.
Whatever Harry saw in my expression made that faint smile brighten, and the jolt of anger that shot through me had my hands at his throat, grabbing his collar, pulling him toward me until our noses practically touched.
“Get. Out.” The words came out surprisingly soft, but I could hear my voice shaking. Harry didn’t respond, which was also surprising.
I let him go without a shove, straightened and walked toward the bedroom without looking back. Maybe it wasn’t fair to let Miranda and Dave there to make sure he was escorted out, but I was sure Miranda could handle it, and I had more important things to do.