BSG fic announcement: Undertow
Title: Undertow
Author: Widget
Pairing: Lee/Leoben
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be (otherwise Lee would be dressed in that towel permanently! Mmmm…towel). No money is being made.
Spoilers/Warnings: no spoilers; issues of dubious consent
Summary: Such a human emotion, curiosity
Notes: Another request fic. This is one for ysrith who requested Lee/Leoben. Many thanks to the wonderful romanticalgirl for her excellent suggestions and awesome beta skills. And big thanks to kuwdora for the beautiful cover art. Rated “D” for dirtybadwrongness.
“For too long, we have stood back, watching helplessly as one injustice after another is perpetrated upon our brethren.” The man on the stage pauses for dramatic effect and lets his words, his passion suffuse his audience before continuing his diatribe.
“We are creatures of free will, and yet we do nothing,” he says, his voice carrying over the murmurs of approval rippling through the crowd to echo off the walls of the abandoned warehouse. “We blindly accept every word that our leaders feed us, like babes at their mothers’ teat.”
The murmurs of approval are joined by loud mutters of agreement and scattered applause. The man continues his impassioned speech, restlessly prowling the length of the stage like a predator. There are no claws and fangs here, of course, only words. But words can be just as dangerous, even deadly, in the wrong hands. Or the right ones.
Lee shoves his own hands further into his pockets and hunches more deeply into his jacket, shuffling nervously from foot to foot. He knows that it’s doubtful that anyone here would recognize him; this was, after all, about as far as you could possibly get from an Academy sanctioned function. There would be no credit awarded for attendance - quite the opposite, in fact.
And that’s his security. Even if someone he knows does see him, they can’t acknowledge it, not unless they’re willing to risk suspension or possibly expulsion. Knowing that, however, doesn’t put Lee entirely at ease. He unconsciously shifts a little closer to the safety of the exit.
He watches the scene unfold from his place at the back of the meeting hall. Lee has to admit, Jaren Laval’s technique is masterful; the man could have been on the college lecture circuit, easily, maybe even some of the political talk shows. But he’s a little too slick, his speech a tad too formulaic and calculated. He says all the right things, throws out all the expected stock phrases like “oppression by the unfeeling government machine” and “the suffering of the working class” but the whole thing rings falsely in Lee’s ears. Or maybe he just spent far too much time as a boy listening to his grandfather practicing his closing arguments for court. He knows a well crafted and well prepared speech when he hears it.
As the speech continues and the crowd’s enthusiasm grows, Lee’s attention begins to wander and he finds himself wondering not for the first time, what the frak possessed him to come here in the first place.
He’s not sure why he even passed through Riverwalk Promenade that afternoon; he could have bought a gift for his mother’s birthday anywhere. Then again, after spending days cooped up cramming for mid-terms, it had felt so nice to stroll through the open air market with the sun warm on his face, surrounded by people dressed in something other than Colonial Fleet blue and gray.
He’d been nearing Delphi Plaza when a girl - she couldn’t have been older than eighteen or nineteen - had smiled at him and pressed a flyer into his hand. “Freedom through truth,” she’d said before melting back into the crowd, leaving Lee standing there with a flyer in his hand and a frown marring his brow.
He doesn’t know why she had approached him out of all the people milling about the plaza; he doesn’t know why he’d taken the flyer, even less why he hadn’t chucked it into the first trash receptacle he encountered. He has the flyer still, folded up in neat squares in his jacket pocket, a bright yellow piece of paper bearing serious words in block letters, words like “truth” and “freedom” and the name Tom Zarek blazed across the top. It was Zarek’s name, not the rhetoric, which drew him here; that and his own foolish curiosity.
And so here he is, attending an underground meeting of Tom Zarek’s supporters in the bad part of town and wondering yet again what happened to his customary caution and good sense. Reading a banned book is one thing; being caught at such a gathering would be far worse, especially for an aspiring Colonial officer whose father commanded a battlestar. If his father ever found out, he would blow a gimbal, Lee knows. Oddly enough, that thought doesn’t bother him nearly as much as it should. Maybe Kara is right and Lee really does have some seriously frakked up daddy issues.
Someone jostles his shoulder, pulling him from his reverie. Lee looks over at the culprit.
“Sorry,” the man says, offering Lee a smile that looks genuine enough to put Lee at ease.
“No problem,” he replies, then turns his attention back to the stage.
Laval has been steadily working the crowd into a frenzy. He knows what buttons to push, what abuses to invoke, what truths to avoid and the audience eats it up, their response growing ever more animated with each passing minute.
“Powerful words,” the man beside him says. Lee looks over at him.
“It’s easy to speak of freedom, but to attain it is the most difficult task of all.”
Lee nods.
“I wonder how many of the people here realize that while the words are true, the speaker is false?”
Lee turns sharply to stare at the other man, surprised to hear his own thoughts echoed. He wonders at the man’s brashness; it’s dangerous to say such things in a crowd like this, but the man seems curiously serene, as if unaware of the danger. Unaware, or perhaps unafraid.
Lee studies him for a moment. Unprepossessing, is Lee’s immediate thought: medium height, maybe ten, fifteen years older than Lee himself, though it’s hard to tell. His blond hair is close cropped, but stands on end, making him look boyish and he’s wearing a heavy, dun color coat with grease stains along the cuffs that doesn’t fit quite right. A dock worker, Lee thinks, or maybe someone from the space port.
“You understand, though, don’t you?”
Lee, blinks, startled. “What…?”
The man smiles at him again, his expression benign but knowing at the same time. “You’re not clapping and cheering like the rest of them,” he explains as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Lee looks around the crowd and sure enough they’ve reached a fever pitch of excitement while Lee has hung back in the margins watching, a skeptic amid a throng of true believers. He hadn’t even realized how conspicuous he is and curses himself silently for his stupidity.
The man simply smiles at him before he turns his attention towards the stage. Lee follows suit.
“It is only by throwing off the shackles of our ignorance that we can ever hope to find freedom!” Laval proclaims loudly and the audience cheers wildly, their applause thunderous in the enclosed space.
Lee feels a hand clamp tightly around his wrist. He looks over at the other man who stares back with an odd intensity.
“It’s time to leave,” he says simply.
“What? Why?”
The grip tightens. “You have to trust me.”
There’s absolutely no reason for him to trust this man. He’s a complete stranger, Lee reminds himself. He doesn’t even know the man’s name, let alone his motivations, but suddenly Lee can feel his heart beginning to pound. There’s a palpable sense of danger, though he doesn’t know or understand the source. It feels like claustrophobia, as if the walls are closing in on him threatening to crush him.
Lee nods and lets the man guide him towards the exit.
No one tries to stop them. No one even notices their passage.
It’s cold outside, made colder by the stiff breeze coming in from the bay. Lee slaps his hands against his arms trying to generate heat.
“This way,” the man says, pointing towards a nearby alley. “Hurry.”
Lee hesitates a moment before following the man deeper into the shadows. He opens his mouth to ask the man where they’re going when he suddenly finds himself pressed against the rough brick wall of a warehouse, a hand clapped over his mouth.
Lee’s eyes go wide and his heart begins to hammer. He begins to struggle on instinct but the man holds him in place, his grip implacable and far stronger than Lee would have imagined. The man leans in close and whispers in his ear.
“Shhh.”
It’s then that Lee hears the sirens. They pierce the eerie quiet around the docks, moving closer with each passing second.
Lee swallows and nods his understanding. The man removes his hand and steps back.
“This way,” he says again and this time Lee doesn’t hesitate to follow. The man leads him through a maze of garbage strewn alleyways, his steps unerring. Lee can hear the sirens coming closer, their wail echoing the pounding of his heart. The man stops in front of a non-descript building.
“In here.” The man ushers Lee through the open doorway, closing the door behind them. They’re shrouded in darkness for several moments until the man hits the light switch. A bare bulb sparks to life, dimly illuminating the narrow stairway, but it’s enough. When the man starts to climb the stairs, Lee follows silently.
Three floors up and then the man leads Lee down a short corridor and into what turns out to be a small apartment. Lee hovers just inside the threshold and looks around. It’s sparsely furnished and the paint on the walls is starting to crack and peel. There’s a distinct lack of personal belongings as if the man is just passing through. Perhaps he is.
Lee rubs his arms again. It’s not much warmer in the apartment than it is outside. He wonders how the man can stand it.
“Sorry, ‘bout the cold,” the man tosses over his shoulder as he rummages through a cabinet. “The heater’s busted. You get what you pay for, right?”
He closes the cabinet door and heads over to the small table near the kitchenette. “I don’t have much to offer by way of hospitality,” the man says, shooting Lee a smile as he sets a bottle and a couple of glasses down on the small table. “I don’t get many guests.”
“That’s all right,” Lee says, uncertain of how to respond. When the man sits, Lee takes the seat across from him.
“The police were coming to shut down the meeting weren’t they?”
The man nods, unscrewing the bottle and pouring them each a measure of the contents. “Yes. They’ll claim that it was unauthorized, that they failed to apply for a permit in advance. The usual excuses they give in such a situation.”
“But that’s not legal,” Lee says, unable to hide his shock at such an abuse, knowing he probably sounds like a naïve fool.
The man shrugs. “That hardly matters to the authorities.” He raises his glass and takes a drink, his eyes never leaving Lee’s face.
Lee shakes his head. “The Articles of Colonization guarantee freedom of speech and assembly. It was a peaceful meeting.”
“Nothing is peaceful when the name of Tom Zarek is involved. Surely you know that?” The man shoots Lee a wry look.
Lee can feel the heat crawling across his cheeks. He takes a drink from the glass the man set before him and nearly chokes as the alcohol burns like fire down his throat. “Gods!” he gasps out, face twisting at the vile taste.
The man smiles at him, clearly amused, but there’s sympathy rather than mockery in his eyes. “I should have warned you it was strong.”
Lee’s own eyes are watering and it takes a moment for the burn of alcohol fade enough for him to speak. “Zarek might be a convicted terrorist, but he’s still a citizen of the Colonies. He still has rights. So do his supporters. They haven’t broken any laws.”
“Yet,” the man counters. “It’s not what they’ve done, but rather what the authorities fear they’ll do that frightens them. It is in the nature of human beings to fear that which they do not understand.”
Lee nods slowly. He can’t entirely disagree with that. “I suppose so.” He taps the side of his glass absently. “I guess I should thank you. For getting me out of there.”
“You didn’t belong there.”
Lee frowns. He expects the man to say more, but he doesn’t.
“Well, anyway, thanks. For everything. I should probably go,” Lee begins to rise, but the man grabs his wrist and shakes his head.
“I wouldn’t risk it, if I were you. They’re going to be sweeping the sector, making sure no fish slipped the net. If they catch you out there now, you’ll just be arrested.”
Lee drops heavily into his chair with a sigh. The man is right. If the police are willing to ignore Colonial law to shut down a secret, but still perfectly legal, political meeting, they wouldn’t scruple to arrest innocent bystanders. And Lee knows he’s far from innocent in this circumstance even if he has done nothing wrong.
Lee takes another cautious sip of his drink then sets it down, frowning. “I just realized. I don’t even know your name.”
The man smiles, that now familiar, serene smile. “My name is Leoben.”
“Lee.”
Leoben dips his head and raised his glass in a toast. “It’s nice to meet you, Lee.”
Lee echoes the gesture and takes another drink of Leoben’s rotgut, draining his glass.
Leoben pours him another drink and Lee thinks about telling him that he’s had enough, but they’ve got a long wait ahead of them before it’ll be safe for Lee to venture out and the alcohol, vile though it is, leaves a pleasant warmth in his belly.
Perhaps it’s the alcohol, or simple curiosity that makes Lee ask the question bouncing around the back of his mind.
“Why?”
Leoben shoots him an amused look. “Why what, Lee?”
“Any of it. All of it,” Lee says, frustration and confusion evident in his voice. “Why were you there? Why did you decide to speak to me? Why did you get me out of there before the cops arrived? You could have just walked away and left me there.”
Leoben rests his hands flat against the tabletop, fingers splayed over the pockmarked surface as he leans back in his chair and meets Lee’s gaze evenly.
“I already explained the latter. You clearly didn’t belong there and nothing good would have come from you being arrested. You’re destined for greater things than that, Lee.”
Lee frowns, but before he can ask Leoben what he means by that, he’s speaking again. “And as to why I was there, well, let’s just chalk it up to curiosity. Such a human emotion, curiosity. Wouldn’t you agree? The desire to know things beyond our ken. To understand things greater than ourselves. That’s something we have in common. We’re truth seekers, you and I.”
Leoben leans forward, his gaze suddenly intense. “Do you believe in the gods, Lee? The Lords of Kobol and all that?”
Lee leans back, away from the other man, startled by the unexpected question. “I…” he begins, falters, unsure of how to respond. It’s Leoben who answers for him.
“Of course you don’t. You’re a skeptic,” he says in a voice that brooks no denial. “You won’t accept something on blind faith any more than you’d embrace a convenient lie. That’s a noble thing, Lee, but very difficult. Everyone needs something to believe in.”
Leoben leans closer, one hand gripping Lee’s wrist in a hold that’s firm but not constraining, not exactly. “What do you believe in, Lee?”
Lee swallows, his tongue slithering out to wet suddenly dry lips. “I believe in the rule of law,” he says, his voice low and unexpectedly shaky. He takes another breath. “I believe in democracy, the consent of the people.”
“The system is corrupt. Humanity is corrupt,” Leoben replies. He sounds almost sad, somehow. Disappointed.
“No,” Lee says, shaking his head, refusing to accept that assessment. “Individuals, perhaps. But the system itself, the principles underlying it are true,”
Leoben gives him an almost pitying look. “The flawed ideals of a flawed race.”
“No.” Lee feels Leoben’s grip tighten and when he tries to pull away, he finds that he’s caught.
“You’re searching for meaning, Lee. You want to be part of something bigger, greater than yourself. You want to believe.”
“Let go of me,” Lee says, trying to sound calm. He wonders if Leoben can feel the way his pulse jumps beneath his fingertips, suspects that he can.
Leoben releases him at once, a small almost indulgent smile tracing his lips. “Of course, Lee. I believe in free will as well.”
Lee stands, his chair skittering back away from the table. He sways for a moment as the alcohol hits him all at once, making his head swim and his stomach roil. He reaches a hand out to steady himself on the table edge. Leoben remains seated, staring up at Lee, his expression oddly melancholy.
“You want to lose yourself in a noble cause, serve some greater good,” Leoben says. “We’re alike in that, Lee.”
Leoben stands slowly, his eyes never leaving Lee’s face. “This,” he says, stretching his arms out at his side, the gesture encompassing more than himself, more than the dingy apartment in which they stood. “This is not all that we are.”
He takes a step towards Lee, and Lee takes a stumbling step backwards, wary, even though Leoben’s voice and eyes remain soft and reassuring. “That’s the first article of faith. Some seek this truth through religion, placing their belief in scripture and forged idols. Others pursue it through the acquisition of material wealth or power.”
Leoben takes another step towards Lee. Lee takes another backwards.
“Some seek it through the pursuit of ideals, of principles. But in the end, it’s simply a matter of faith. We all want to believe that we are more than this fragile, mortal flesh.”
Leoben takes another step closer, but before Lee can move away, Leoben has reached up to cup Lee’s face in his hands, his eyes gazing into Lee’s, so kind yet strangely compelling. His fingers are callus-rough where they cradle Lee’s cheeks, but his touch is surprisingly gentle. Lee wants to pull away, but finds himself frozen to the spot, like a small animal caught in the steely gaze of a predator.
“And we are,” Leoben says. His smile is benevolent, almost paternal, before he leans forward and brushes a soft kiss against Lee’s brow. A benediction.
“In time you’ll come to understand that, Lee. In time God will show you the way.”
He wants to ask Leoben what he means but there isn’t any time before Leoben leans into him and presses a kiss to Lee’s lips. Lee jumps, startled, and tries to pull away, but Leoben’s hands still cradle his face, holding him in place. Leoben’s touch is unbearably gentle but his mouth is insistent as it moves against Lee’s, cool, dry lips molding, pressing, seeking compliance, demanding surrender.
To his surprise, Lee finds himself yielding. When Leoben’s tongue slides slowly across his lips, they part, granting access before Lee is even aware he’s acquiesced. Leoben’s kiss becomes more insistent, his tongue probing deeper, demanding more and Lee is helpless to refuse.
He’s dimly aware that they’re moving, that Leoben is guiding them inexorably backwards until Lee’s back collides with the wall behind him. He gasps and tries to pull away but he can’t, not with the wall at his back and Leoben’s body pressed against his front. He twists his head to the side, but Leoben’s grip tightens, holding him still and Lee stares wide-eyed with trepidation at the other man.
Leoben smiles serenely down at him, brushing his thumb across Lee’s lip. “I won’t hurt you, Lee.” His voice is soft, mesmerizing “We would never hurt you.”
Lee stares back at Leoben, heart pounding in his chest. Leoben’s thumb continues sweep across Lee’s lower lip, the motion slow and soothing as Leoben gazes silently back. His eyes, Lee suddenly realizes, are hazel, not brown like he’d thought, but they’re still warm, still sympathetic.
When Leoben leans in again, Lee only hesitates a moment before parting his lips to allow Leoben in. And this time, Lee kisses him back, cautiously at first but with growing fervor as the moments tick by.
Leoben’s hands release him and drift slowly down his body. Lee gasps into Leoben’s mouth when his hands slide up the front of Lee’s shirt, insinuating themselves beneath layers of cloth to brush bare skin. His touch is assured and disconcertingly direct and Lee shivers and gasps as the other man charts his body with unerring skill.
Lee thinks that perhaps he’s drunk, or perhaps he’s gone a little mad. He’s in a strange man’s apartment, letting a strange man touch him with undeniable purpose. He should leave. He should push Leoben away and get the hell out of there before it’s too late. Before he does something rash, something far more reckless and dangerous than attending an underground political meeting. Something he’ll regret.
But even as that thought rises to the surface it’s swamped by a wave of intense sensation. He’s past the point of leaving, past the point of caring and that scares him most of all. When Leoben’s hand slides down to rest on the front of Lee’s pants, he groans loudly and he can feel the other man’s smile against his mouth.
“Shhh,” he whispers in Lee’s ear, his hand stroking slowly along the length of Lee’s erection while the other continues to caress his chest. Lee whimpers when Leoben’s thumb grazes his nipple so Leoben does it again and again, drawing small, helpless sounds of pleasure from Lee’s lips. When Leoben kisses him again, all teeth and tongue, Lee surges up to meet him, grinding against his body, clutching at his shoulders even as Leoben presses him back against the wall.
Leoben is there, his body pressed close to Lee’s own and then he’s not. Lee makes a small disappointed sound and opens his eyes - when had they closed? - to find Leoben watching him intently. Lee’s breathing heavily and his heart is beating loudly in his ears and Leoben is watching him, studying him with thoughtful eyes. Lee feels heat chase across his face, and he shifts nervously, uncomfortable in the face of Leoben’s scrutiny.
Leoben takes a step away from him, takes another and then holds his hand out towards Lee, his intention clear. Lee’s gaze drops to Leoben’s hand then back up to his face, swallowing sharply. He draws in a shuddering breath then pushes away from the wall and walks towards the other man.
Leoben wraps his hand lightly around Lee’s wrist and guides him towards the narrow bed a few feet away. Leoben releases his hand before he slides Lee’s jacket from his shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. Lee’s shirt follows immediately after as does his undershirt until Lee’s bare-chested and shivering slightly in the unheated room. Hands on Lee’s shoulders, Leoben pushes him down until he’s settled on the edge of the bed, before he removes his own clothing with practiced ease. Unlike Lee, Leoben seems unaffected by the cold
Smiling, Leoben presses Lee back on to the mattress, covering his body with his own. Leoben kisses him again, hands stroking slowly along Lee’s sides until Lee is shivering from something more than cold.
Lee tenses when Leoben’s hand comes to rest on the buckle of his belt, but he makes no protest as Leoben releases the buckle and carefully divests Lee of his pants and the thin cotton briefs beneath. Leoben tugs the fabric down his legs until Lee’s stripped bare, his body fully exposed to the cold air and Leoben’s heated gaze.
Leoben leans up and kisses Lee again. “I won’t hurt you,” he says again and Lee nods, eyes closing.
His eyes shoot open moments later when he feels Leoben’s tongue stroke the head of his cock. Leoben smiles up at him and then, eyes trained on Lee’s face, he lowers his head and takes Lee into his mouth.
Lee stares at Leoben, watching the blond head as it moves slowly up and down. He clutches at the thin, worn fabric of the bed linens and tries to hold his body still, but all he can feel is wet heat and rising pleasure. He collapses back on the mattress, eyes screwed shut against the intensity of sensation, twisting the sheets in a white knuckled grip as Leoben moves up and down, his movements effortless and clearly knowing. Leoben’s hands have come to rest on his hips, pinning them down, forcing him to stillness when all he wishes to do is seek greater stimulation. Leoben’s grip tightens as Lee begins to buck and twist beneath him, but the wet, hot pressure of his mouth on Lee’s cock never falters.
It goes on far longer than Lee would have imagined. Leoben has almost inhuman reserves of stamina and patience far beyond anything Lee could ever hope to replicate. But more than that, Leoben’s understanding of Lee’s body far outstrips his own. Time and again, he teases Lee to the edge, only to back away, leaving Lee writhing and keening with frustration. When Lee tries to buck up, Leoben’s grip tightens, his hips held in place with such force that Lee is sure he’ll be sporting bruises once this is over. When Lee begs him to finish, Leoben slows his movement until Lee bites his lip to remain silent.
When Leoben allows him to come - and there’s no question that it was Leoben’s choice not his own - it slams through Lee with sufficient force to leave him stunned and breathless. He lays on the mattress, his eyes screwed shut as he tries to draw air into his lungs. He feels Leoben’s hand stroke down his chest, his touch cool on Lee’s heated flesh and then feels himself being gently turned over until he’s resting on his belly, his face half hidden in the thin pillow.
He feels the mattress shift and hears vague sounds behind him, but he can’t focus on anything beyond the wonderful feeling of lassitude, can barely even keep his eyes open. The mattress shifts again and Lee can feel Leoben’s hand slide slowly up his back as he presses himself against Lee’s side. Warm breath against his neck and a voice whispering in his ear.
“I said I would never hurt you, Lee. Do you believe me?”
Lee nods, murmurs his assent even though the words are muffled against the pillow. He’s drowsy and content and the movement of Leoben’s hand is soothing, like water lapping against the shore. Leoben’s hands move lower, stroking down Lee’s spine to slide over his ass then down his thighs. He feels his legs shifted, moved, but he’s still distracted by that hand moving rhythmically across his back and doesn’t really think about anything else.
Until he feels something cold prod against his ass.
Lee jumps, tries to turn over, but Leoben’s hand is on his shoulder, pressing him firmly down against the mattress.
“Shhh,” he whispers and Lee freezes as he feels something cold and slick and hard breach his body. It doesn’t hurt, not precisely, but it feels odd and he instinctively tries to shift away, but Leoben’s hand is on his shoulder and his lips are near Lee’s ear and his breath is warm on Lee’s skin so he remains still.
“Relax,” Leoben says in that softly compelling voice of his. “I won’t hurt you. Just relax.”
Lee tries to relax as he feels whatever it is moving into his body. A finger, he realizes. It doesn’t hurt. He reminds himself of that when the finger is removed and returns again. This time it feels thicker, two fingers then, and there’s a faint sensation of burning but it’s gone almost immediately and then there is gentle motion in and out, in and out, ebb and flow, and that’s almost soothing in a way, too.
His eyes drift closed and he barely has time to register the absence of Leoben’s fingers inside him before something else, something larger begins to breach his body. Lee flinches and tries to pull away, but once again Leoben is there holding him still, his hands as implacable as his intrusion. The sensation of burning now borders on genuine pain and Lee tries to escape it but to no avail. He feels Leoben’s body on his, pressing him down into the mattress, covering him like a blanket as he slowly, inexorably sinks deeper into Lee’s body. When he tries to get his arms beneath him and dislodge the other man Leoben grips his wrists, pins them to the mattress even as he continues to press inside.
“Shhhh, Lee. Shhh.” Leoben’s voice is soft but Lee can barely hear it over the sound of his pulse pounding in his ear. Lee makes an inarticulate sound that might be a sob but all Leoben does is whisper soft words of reassurance in his ear. He remains stretched out over Lee’s body, fully seated inside him and Lee can feel Leoben’s heart thrumming against his back, its rhythm peaceful compared to the staccato beat of Lee’s own.
Lee doesn’t know how long they remain twined together like that before Leoben begins to move, slowly at first, his movements small and almost gentle, as if trying to reassure a skittish animal. Lee’s eyes are squeezed shut and he buries his face in the thin pillow. His cheeks are damp and he thinks they might be tears even though the pain seems to have faded, giving way to a strange feeling of pressure that’s not entirely comfortable but not entirely unpleasant either.
Leoben moves inside him, longer, deeper strokes, in and out, in and out. Water lapping at the shore, Lee thinks, and clings to the thought, floating on the rise and fall of the waves as Leoben’s movements become more insistent, more assured. Leoben shifts slightly and a sudden bolt of pleasure lashes through Lee’s body, making him gasp. Leoben repeats the motion again and again until Lee is sobbing from the intensity of sensation.
His body rides the currents, unconsciously rising up to meet Leoben’s, seeking more stimulation of its own accord. Lee’s hands ball into fists and Leoben’s grip tightens, providing sensation of another kind as Lee pushes and pulls and moves in counterpoint. Leoben’s body is heavy, solid and his breath is warm against Lee’s neck. Leoben whispers to him of God’s love, speaks to him of faith and destiny, but the words don’t register, not entirely. They skip across Lee’s distracted mind like pebbles skipping across a lake on a summer day, flashing like sunlight before they sink beneath the surface and disappear.
Leoben’s body is moving faster now, his thrusts short and brutal and the edge of almost pain is back, tangled up with the pleasure, making it sharper, more intense. Lee begins to tremble. It’s too much: too much sensation, too much strangeness. He’s drowning in it. He buries his face in the pillow, biting down sharply as he comes again, more intensely even than before, pleasure cresting and washing over him. And then he’s floating, disconnected, a bit of flotsam on the tide, as Leoben continues to thrust inside him. His hands are curled around Lee’s wrists with enough force to bruise, but the pain is a distant thing, incapable of piercing the haze of pleasure and shock.
Lee is only barely aware that Leoben has stopped moving. His body is still draped over Lee’s, heavy and warm, his heart beating a rapid tattoo against Lee’s back. Lee closes his eyes and breathes.
After a time, Leoben moves. He pulls away from Lee’s body and Lee feels the chill at once. The mattress dips and shifts and Lee feels a hand stroking along his arm from shoulder to wrist. He opens his eyes to find Leoben perched on the edge of the narrow bed, gazing down at him, his expression thoughtful.
“Did I hurt you?”
Lee frowns for a moment then shakes his head no. Leoben smiles, that benevolent, almost paternal smile he shared with Lee before he kissed his brow. Before he kissed his lips for the first time. Leoben’s fingers trail over Lee’s cheek, his touch gentle and curious while his other hand slowly strokes up and down Lee’s back
“I told you I wouldn’t hurt you, didn’t I?”
Lee nods again, his eyes beginning to close. He can feel the soothing motion of Leoben’s hand on his back, ushering him into sleep. He sinks deeper and deeper beneath the surface and it is just as consciousness fades that he hears Leoben’s voice whisper in his ear one last time.
“God loves you, Lee. In time you’ll understand what that means.”
Lee dreams of sunlight on the water and the gentle slap of waves against the shore.
When Lee awakes the next morning he is alone. The thin gray light of early dawn filters through the dirty window in the kitchen, illuminating the small apartment. He wraps the threadbare blanket around his body, shivering, and casts his gaze around the room, looking for some sign of the other man, of Leoben, knowing that he won’t find any. What few personal belongings there had been were gone, and when Lee’s gaze reaches the table, he’s not entirely surprised to see a single glass sitting beside the empty bottle of rotgut.
It was as if the man never existed at all.
When Lee stands, the blanket shifts and he sees his left wrist, banded with a bracelet of blue and purple bruises. When he looks lower, he sees more bruises on his hips. He stares at them then carefully presses his fingers against the mottled flesh. He winces at the echo of pain, biting his lip at the answering shiver that races along his spine. Leoben existed, even if the only evidence is the marks on his body. Lee doesn’t want to think about what that means. He doesn’t want to think about what any of it means.
He dresses quickly, ignoring the stiffness of his body and the unexpected, unaccustomed twinges of almost pain as he moves. He slips from the empty apartment, down the stairs and out into the stingy sunlight. As he moves closer to the docks, Lee can hear the sounds of life continuing on in the wake of the night’s events, as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. Lee hunches more deeply into his jacket. He shoves his hands into his pockets, hiding the bruises out of sight, and decides to do the same.
He turns and heads home, the sound of water slapping against the shore following in his wake until it fades away completely.
Finis
Author: Widget
Pairing: Lee/Leoben
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be (otherwise Lee would be dressed in that towel permanently! Mmmm…towel). No money is being made.
Spoilers/Warnings: no spoilers; issues of dubious consent
Summary: Such a human emotion, curiosity
Notes: Another request fic. This is one for ysrith who requested Lee/Leoben. Many thanks to the wonderful romanticalgirl for her excellent suggestions and awesome beta skills. And big thanks to kuwdora for the beautiful cover art. Rated “D” for dirtybadwrongness.
“For too long, we have stood back, watching helplessly as one injustice after another is perpetrated upon our brethren.” The man on the stage pauses for dramatic effect and lets his words, his passion suffuse his audience before continuing his diatribe.
“We are creatures of free will, and yet we do nothing,” he says, his voice carrying over the murmurs of approval rippling through the crowd to echo off the walls of the abandoned warehouse. “We blindly accept every word that our leaders feed us, like babes at their mothers’ teat.”
The murmurs of approval are joined by loud mutters of agreement and scattered applause. The man continues his impassioned speech, restlessly prowling the length of the stage like a predator. There are no claws and fangs here, of course, only words. But words can be just as dangerous, even deadly, in the wrong hands. Or the right ones.
Lee shoves his own hands further into his pockets and hunches more deeply into his jacket, shuffling nervously from foot to foot. He knows that it’s doubtful that anyone here would recognize him; this was, after all, about as far as you could possibly get from an Academy sanctioned function. There would be no credit awarded for attendance - quite the opposite, in fact.
And that’s his security. Even if someone he knows does see him, they can’t acknowledge it, not unless they’re willing to risk suspension or possibly expulsion. Knowing that, however, doesn’t put Lee entirely at ease. He unconsciously shifts a little closer to the safety of the exit.
He watches the scene unfold from his place at the back of the meeting hall. Lee has to admit, Jaren Laval’s technique is masterful; the man could have been on the college lecture circuit, easily, maybe even some of the political talk shows. But he’s a little too slick, his speech a tad too formulaic and calculated. He says all the right things, throws out all the expected stock phrases like “oppression by the unfeeling government machine” and “the suffering of the working class” but the whole thing rings falsely in Lee’s ears. Or maybe he just spent far too much time as a boy listening to his grandfather practicing his closing arguments for court. He knows a well crafted and well prepared speech when he hears it.
As the speech continues and the crowd’s enthusiasm grows, Lee’s attention begins to wander and he finds himself wondering not for the first time, what the frak possessed him to come here in the first place.
He’s not sure why he even passed through Riverwalk Promenade that afternoon; he could have bought a gift for his mother’s birthday anywhere. Then again, after spending days cooped up cramming for mid-terms, it had felt so nice to stroll through the open air market with the sun warm on his face, surrounded by people dressed in something other than Colonial Fleet blue and gray.
He’d been nearing Delphi Plaza when a girl - she couldn’t have been older than eighteen or nineteen - had smiled at him and pressed a flyer into his hand. “Freedom through truth,” she’d said before melting back into the crowd, leaving Lee standing there with a flyer in his hand and a frown marring his brow.
He doesn’t know why she had approached him out of all the people milling about the plaza; he doesn’t know why he’d taken the flyer, even less why he hadn’t chucked it into the first trash receptacle he encountered. He has the flyer still, folded up in neat squares in his jacket pocket, a bright yellow piece of paper bearing serious words in block letters, words like “truth” and “freedom” and the name Tom Zarek blazed across the top. It was Zarek’s name, not the rhetoric, which drew him here; that and his own foolish curiosity.
And so here he is, attending an underground meeting of Tom Zarek’s supporters in the bad part of town and wondering yet again what happened to his customary caution and good sense. Reading a banned book is one thing; being caught at such a gathering would be far worse, especially for an aspiring Colonial officer whose father commanded a battlestar. If his father ever found out, he would blow a gimbal, Lee knows. Oddly enough, that thought doesn’t bother him nearly as much as it should. Maybe Kara is right and Lee really does have some seriously frakked up daddy issues.
Someone jostles his shoulder, pulling him from his reverie. Lee looks over at the culprit.
“Sorry,” the man says, offering Lee a smile that looks genuine enough to put Lee at ease.
“No problem,” he replies, then turns his attention back to the stage.
Laval has been steadily working the crowd into a frenzy. He knows what buttons to push, what abuses to invoke, what truths to avoid and the audience eats it up, their response growing ever more animated with each passing minute.
“Powerful words,” the man beside him says. Lee looks over at him.
“It’s easy to speak of freedom, but to attain it is the most difficult task of all.”
Lee nods.
“I wonder how many of the people here realize that while the words are true, the speaker is false?”
Lee turns sharply to stare at the other man, surprised to hear his own thoughts echoed. He wonders at the man’s brashness; it’s dangerous to say such things in a crowd like this, but the man seems curiously serene, as if unaware of the danger. Unaware, or perhaps unafraid.
Lee studies him for a moment. Unprepossessing, is Lee’s immediate thought: medium height, maybe ten, fifteen years older than Lee himself, though it’s hard to tell. His blond hair is close cropped, but stands on end, making him look boyish and he’s wearing a heavy, dun color coat with grease stains along the cuffs that doesn’t fit quite right. A dock worker, Lee thinks, or maybe someone from the space port.
“You understand, though, don’t you?”
Lee, blinks, startled. “What…?”
The man smiles at him again, his expression benign but knowing at the same time. “You’re not clapping and cheering like the rest of them,” he explains as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Lee looks around the crowd and sure enough they’ve reached a fever pitch of excitement while Lee has hung back in the margins watching, a skeptic amid a throng of true believers. He hadn’t even realized how conspicuous he is and curses himself silently for his stupidity.
The man simply smiles at him before he turns his attention towards the stage. Lee follows suit.
“It is only by throwing off the shackles of our ignorance that we can ever hope to find freedom!” Laval proclaims loudly and the audience cheers wildly, their applause thunderous in the enclosed space.
Lee feels a hand clamp tightly around his wrist. He looks over at the other man who stares back with an odd intensity.
“It’s time to leave,” he says simply.
“What? Why?”
The grip tightens. “You have to trust me.”
There’s absolutely no reason for him to trust this man. He’s a complete stranger, Lee reminds himself. He doesn’t even know the man’s name, let alone his motivations, but suddenly Lee can feel his heart beginning to pound. There’s a palpable sense of danger, though he doesn’t know or understand the source. It feels like claustrophobia, as if the walls are closing in on him threatening to crush him.
Lee nods and lets the man guide him towards the exit.
No one tries to stop them. No one even notices their passage.
It’s cold outside, made colder by the stiff breeze coming in from the bay. Lee slaps his hands against his arms trying to generate heat.
“This way,” the man says, pointing towards a nearby alley. “Hurry.”
Lee hesitates a moment before following the man deeper into the shadows. He opens his mouth to ask the man where they’re going when he suddenly finds himself pressed against the rough brick wall of a warehouse, a hand clapped over his mouth.
Lee’s eyes go wide and his heart begins to hammer. He begins to struggle on instinct but the man holds him in place, his grip implacable and far stronger than Lee would have imagined. The man leans in close and whispers in his ear.
“Shhh.”
It’s then that Lee hears the sirens. They pierce the eerie quiet around the docks, moving closer with each passing second.
Lee swallows and nods his understanding. The man removes his hand and steps back.
“This way,” he says again and this time Lee doesn’t hesitate to follow. The man leads him through a maze of garbage strewn alleyways, his steps unerring. Lee can hear the sirens coming closer, their wail echoing the pounding of his heart. The man stops in front of a non-descript building.
“In here.” The man ushers Lee through the open doorway, closing the door behind them. They’re shrouded in darkness for several moments until the man hits the light switch. A bare bulb sparks to life, dimly illuminating the narrow stairway, but it’s enough. When the man starts to climb the stairs, Lee follows silently.
Three floors up and then the man leads Lee down a short corridor and into what turns out to be a small apartment. Lee hovers just inside the threshold and looks around. It’s sparsely furnished and the paint on the walls is starting to crack and peel. There’s a distinct lack of personal belongings as if the man is just passing through. Perhaps he is.
Lee rubs his arms again. It’s not much warmer in the apartment than it is outside. He wonders how the man can stand it.
“Sorry, ‘bout the cold,” the man tosses over his shoulder as he rummages through a cabinet. “The heater’s busted. You get what you pay for, right?”
He closes the cabinet door and heads over to the small table near the kitchenette. “I don’t have much to offer by way of hospitality,” the man says, shooting Lee a smile as he sets a bottle and a couple of glasses down on the small table. “I don’t get many guests.”
“That’s all right,” Lee says, uncertain of how to respond. When the man sits, Lee takes the seat across from him.
“The police were coming to shut down the meeting weren’t they?”
The man nods, unscrewing the bottle and pouring them each a measure of the contents. “Yes. They’ll claim that it was unauthorized, that they failed to apply for a permit in advance. The usual excuses they give in such a situation.”
“But that’s not legal,” Lee says, unable to hide his shock at such an abuse, knowing he probably sounds like a naïve fool.
The man shrugs. “That hardly matters to the authorities.” He raises his glass and takes a drink, his eyes never leaving Lee’s face.
Lee shakes his head. “The Articles of Colonization guarantee freedom of speech and assembly. It was a peaceful meeting.”
“Nothing is peaceful when the name of Tom Zarek is involved. Surely you know that?” The man shoots Lee a wry look.
Lee can feel the heat crawling across his cheeks. He takes a drink from the glass the man set before him and nearly chokes as the alcohol burns like fire down his throat. “Gods!” he gasps out, face twisting at the vile taste.
The man smiles at him, clearly amused, but there’s sympathy rather than mockery in his eyes. “I should have warned you it was strong.”
Lee’s own eyes are watering and it takes a moment for the burn of alcohol fade enough for him to speak. “Zarek might be a convicted terrorist, but he’s still a citizen of the Colonies. He still has rights. So do his supporters. They haven’t broken any laws.”
“Yet,” the man counters. “It’s not what they’ve done, but rather what the authorities fear they’ll do that frightens them. It is in the nature of human beings to fear that which they do not understand.”
Lee nods slowly. He can’t entirely disagree with that. “I suppose so.” He taps the side of his glass absently. “I guess I should thank you. For getting me out of there.”
“You didn’t belong there.”
Lee frowns. He expects the man to say more, but he doesn’t.
“Well, anyway, thanks. For everything. I should probably go,” Lee begins to rise, but the man grabs his wrist and shakes his head.
“I wouldn’t risk it, if I were you. They’re going to be sweeping the sector, making sure no fish slipped the net. If they catch you out there now, you’ll just be arrested.”
Lee drops heavily into his chair with a sigh. The man is right. If the police are willing to ignore Colonial law to shut down a secret, but still perfectly legal, political meeting, they wouldn’t scruple to arrest innocent bystanders. And Lee knows he’s far from innocent in this circumstance even if he has done nothing wrong.
Lee takes another cautious sip of his drink then sets it down, frowning. “I just realized. I don’t even know your name.”
The man smiles, that now familiar, serene smile. “My name is Leoben.”
“Lee.”
Leoben dips his head and raised his glass in a toast. “It’s nice to meet you, Lee.”
Lee echoes the gesture and takes another drink of Leoben’s rotgut, draining his glass.
Leoben pours him another drink and Lee thinks about telling him that he’s had enough, but they’ve got a long wait ahead of them before it’ll be safe for Lee to venture out and the alcohol, vile though it is, leaves a pleasant warmth in his belly.
Perhaps it’s the alcohol, or simple curiosity that makes Lee ask the question bouncing around the back of his mind.
“Why?”
Leoben shoots him an amused look. “Why what, Lee?”
“Any of it. All of it,” Lee says, frustration and confusion evident in his voice. “Why were you there? Why did you decide to speak to me? Why did you get me out of there before the cops arrived? You could have just walked away and left me there.”
Leoben rests his hands flat against the tabletop, fingers splayed over the pockmarked surface as he leans back in his chair and meets Lee’s gaze evenly.
“I already explained the latter. You clearly didn’t belong there and nothing good would have come from you being arrested. You’re destined for greater things than that, Lee.”
Lee frowns, but before he can ask Leoben what he means by that, he’s speaking again. “And as to why I was there, well, let’s just chalk it up to curiosity. Such a human emotion, curiosity. Wouldn’t you agree? The desire to know things beyond our ken. To understand things greater than ourselves. That’s something we have in common. We’re truth seekers, you and I.”
Leoben leans forward, his gaze suddenly intense. “Do you believe in the gods, Lee? The Lords of Kobol and all that?”
Lee leans back, away from the other man, startled by the unexpected question. “I…” he begins, falters, unsure of how to respond. It’s Leoben who answers for him.
“Of course you don’t. You’re a skeptic,” he says in a voice that brooks no denial. “You won’t accept something on blind faith any more than you’d embrace a convenient lie. That’s a noble thing, Lee, but very difficult. Everyone needs something to believe in.”
Leoben leans closer, one hand gripping Lee’s wrist in a hold that’s firm but not constraining, not exactly. “What do you believe in, Lee?”
Lee swallows, his tongue slithering out to wet suddenly dry lips. “I believe in the rule of law,” he says, his voice low and unexpectedly shaky. He takes another breath. “I believe in democracy, the consent of the people.”
“The system is corrupt. Humanity is corrupt,” Leoben replies. He sounds almost sad, somehow. Disappointed.
“No,” Lee says, shaking his head, refusing to accept that assessment. “Individuals, perhaps. But the system itself, the principles underlying it are true,”
Leoben gives him an almost pitying look. “The flawed ideals of a flawed race.”
“No.” Lee feels Leoben’s grip tighten and when he tries to pull away, he finds that he’s caught.
“You’re searching for meaning, Lee. You want to be part of something bigger, greater than yourself. You want to believe.”
“Let go of me,” Lee says, trying to sound calm. He wonders if Leoben can feel the way his pulse jumps beneath his fingertips, suspects that he can.
Leoben releases him at once, a small almost indulgent smile tracing his lips. “Of course, Lee. I believe in free will as well.”
Lee stands, his chair skittering back away from the table. He sways for a moment as the alcohol hits him all at once, making his head swim and his stomach roil. He reaches a hand out to steady himself on the table edge. Leoben remains seated, staring up at Lee, his expression oddly melancholy.
“You want to lose yourself in a noble cause, serve some greater good,” Leoben says. “We’re alike in that, Lee.”
Leoben stands slowly, his eyes never leaving Lee’s face. “This,” he says, stretching his arms out at his side, the gesture encompassing more than himself, more than the dingy apartment in which they stood. “This is not all that we are.”
He takes a step towards Lee, and Lee takes a stumbling step backwards, wary, even though Leoben’s voice and eyes remain soft and reassuring. “That’s the first article of faith. Some seek this truth through religion, placing their belief in scripture and forged idols. Others pursue it through the acquisition of material wealth or power.”
Leoben takes another step towards Lee. Lee takes another backwards.
“Some seek it through the pursuit of ideals, of principles. But in the end, it’s simply a matter of faith. We all want to believe that we are more than this fragile, mortal flesh.”
Leoben takes another step closer, but before Lee can move away, Leoben has reached up to cup Lee’s face in his hands, his eyes gazing into Lee’s, so kind yet strangely compelling. His fingers are callus-rough where they cradle Lee’s cheeks, but his touch is surprisingly gentle. Lee wants to pull away, but finds himself frozen to the spot, like a small animal caught in the steely gaze of a predator.
“And we are,” Leoben says. His smile is benevolent, almost paternal, before he leans forward and brushes a soft kiss against Lee’s brow. A benediction.
“In time you’ll come to understand that, Lee. In time God will show you the way.”
He wants to ask Leoben what he means but there isn’t any time before Leoben leans into him and presses a kiss to Lee’s lips. Lee jumps, startled, and tries to pull away, but Leoben’s hands still cradle his face, holding him in place. Leoben’s touch is unbearably gentle but his mouth is insistent as it moves against Lee’s, cool, dry lips molding, pressing, seeking compliance, demanding surrender.
To his surprise, Lee finds himself yielding. When Leoben’s tongue slides slowly across his lips, they part, granting access before Lee is even aware he’s acquiesced. Leoben’s kiss becomes more insistent, his tongue probing deeper, demanding more and Lee is helpless to refuse.
He’s dimly aware that they’re moving, that Leoben is guiding them inexorably backwards until Lee’s back collides with the wall behind him. He gasps and tries to pull away but he can’t, not with the wall at his back and Leoben’s body pressed against his front. He twists his head to the side, but Leoben’s grip tightens, holding him still and Lee stares wide-eyed with trepidation at the other man.
Leoben smiles serenely down at him, brushing his thumb across Lee’s lip. “I won’t hurt you, Lee.” His voice is soft, mesmerizing “We would never hurt you.”
Lee stares back at Leoben, heart pounding in his chest. Leoben’s thumb continues sweep across Lee’s lower lip, the motion slow and soothing as Leoben gazes silently back. His eyes, Lee suddenly realizes, are hazel, not brown like he’d thought, but they’re still warm, still sympathetic.
When Leoben leans in again, Lee only hesitates a moment before parting his lips to allow Leoben in. And this time, Lee kisses him back, cautiously at first but with growing fervor as the moments tick by.
Leoben’s hands release him and drift slowly down his body. Lee gasps into Leoben’s mouth when his hands slide up the front of Lee’s shirt, insinuating themselves beneath layers of cloth to brush bare skin. His touch is assured and disconcertingly direct and Lee shivers and gasps as the other man charts his body with unerring skill.
Lee thinks that perhaps he’s drunk, or perhaps he’s gone a little mad. He’s in a strange man’s apartment, letting a strange man touch him with undeniable purpose. He should leave. He should push Leoben away and get the hell out of there before it’s too late. Before he does something rash, something far more reckless and dangerous than attending an underground political meeting. Something he’ll regret.
But even as that thought rises to the surface it’s swamped by a wave of intense sensation. He’s past the point of leaving, past the point of caring and that scares him most of all. When Leoben’s hand slides down to rest on the front of Lee’s pants, he groans loudly and he can feel the other man’s smile against his mouth.
“Shhh,” he whispers in Lee’s ear, his hand stroking slowly along the length of Lee’s erection while the other continues to caress his chest. Lee whimpers when Leoben’s thumb grazes his nipple so Leoben does it again and again, drawing small, helpless sounds of pleasure from Lee’s lips. When Leoben kisses him again, all teeth and tongue, Lee surges up to meet him, grinding against his body, clutching at his shoulders even as Leoben presses him back against the wall.
Leoben is there, his body pressed close to Lee’s own and then he’s not. Lee makes a small disappointed sound and opens his eyes - when had they closed? - to find Leoben watching him intently. Lee’s breathing heavily and his heart is beating loudly in his ears and Leoben is watching him, studying him with thoughtful eyes. Lee feels heat chase across his face, and he shifts nervously, uncomfortable in the face of Leoben’s scrutiny.
Leoben takes a step away from him, takes another and then holds his hand out towards Lee, his intention clear. Lee’s gaze drops to Leoben’s hand then back up to his face, swallowing sharply. He draws in a shuddering breath then pushes away from the wall and walks towards the other man.
Leoben wraps his hand lightly around Lee’s wrist and guides him towards the narrow bed a few feet away. Leoben releases his hand before he slides Lee’s jacket from his shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. Lee’s shirt follows immediately after as does his undershirt until Lee’s bare-chested and shivering slightly in the unheated room. Hands on Lee’s shoulders, Leoben pushes him down until he’s settled on the edge of the bed, before he removes his own clothing with practiced ease. Unlike Lee, Leoben seems unaffected by the cold
Smiling, Leoben presses Lee back on to the mattress, covering his body with his own. Leoben kisses him again, hands stroking slowly along Lee’s sides until Lee is shivering from something more than cold.
Lee tenses when Leoben’s hand comes to rest on the buckle of his belt, but he makes no protest as Leoben releases the buckle and carefully divests Lee of his pants and the thin cotton briefs beneath. Leoben tugs the fabric down his legs until Lee’s stripped bare, his body fully exposed to the cold air and Leoben’s heated gaze.
Leoben leans up and kisses Lee again. “I won’t hurt you,” he says again and Lee nods, eyes closing.
His eyes shoot open moments later when he feels Leoben’s tongue stroke the head of his cock. Leoben smiles up at him and then, eyes trained on Lee’s face, he lowers his head and takes Lee into his mouth.
Lee stares at Leoben, watching the blond head as it moves slowly up and down. He clutches at the thin, worn fabric of the bed linens and tries to hold his body still, but all he can feel is wet heat and rising pleasure. He collapses back on the mattress, eyes screwed shut against the intensity of sensation, twisting the sheets in a white knuckled grip as Leoben moves up and down, his movements effortless and clearly knowing. Leoben’s hands have come to rest on his hips, pinning them down, forcing him to stillness when all he wishes to do is seek greater stimulation. Leoben’s grip tightens as Lee begins to buck and twist beneath him, but the wet, hot pressure of his mouth on Lee’s cock never falters.
It goes on far longer than Lee would have imagined. Leoben has almost inhuman reserves of stamina and patience far beyond anything Lee could ever hope to replicate. But more than that, Leoben’s understanding of Lee’s body far outstrips his own. Time and again, he teases Lee to the edge, only to back away, leaving Lee writhing and keening with frustration. When Lee tries to buck up, Leoben’s grip tightens, his hips held in place with such force that Lee is sure he’ll be sporting bruises once this is over. When Lee begs him to finish, Leoben slows his movement until Lee bites his lip to remain silent.
When Leoben allows him to come - and there’s no question that it was Leoben’s choice not his own - it slams through Lee with sufficient force to leave him stunned and breathless. He lays on the mattress, his eyes screwed shut as he tries to draw air into his lungs. He feels Leoben’s hand stroke down his chest, his touch cool on Lee’s heated flesh and then feels himself being gently turned over until he’s resting on his belly, his face half hidden in the thin pillow.
He feels the mattress shift and hears vague sounds behind him, but he can’t focus on anything beyond the wonderful feeling of lassitude, can barely even keep his eyes open. The mattress shifts again and Lee can feel Leoben’s hand slide slowly up his back as he presses himself against Lee’s side. Warm breath against his neck and a voice whispering in his ear.
“I said I would never hurt you, Lee. Do you believe me?”
Lee nods, murmurs his assent even though the words are muffled against the pillow. He’s drowsy and content and the movement of Leoben’s hand is soothing, like water lapping against the shore. Leoben’s hands move lower, stroking down Lee’s spine to slide over his ass then down his thighs. He feels his legs shifted, moved, but he’s still distracted by that hand moving rhythmically across his back and doesn’t really think about anything else.
Until he feels something cold prod against his ass.
Lee jumps, tries to turn over, but Leoben’s hand is on his shoulder, pressing him firmly down against the mattress.
“Shhh,” he whispers and Lee freezes as he feels something cold and slick and hard breach his body. It doesn’t hurt, not precisely, but it feels odd and he instinctively tries to shift away, but Leoben’s hand is on his shoulder and his lips are near Lee’s ear and his breath is warm on Lee’s skin so he remains still.
“Relax,” Leoben says in that softly compelling voice of his. “I won’t hurt you. Just relax.”
Lee tries to relax as he feels whatever it is moving into his body. A finger, he realizes. It doesn’t hurt. He reminds himself of that when the finger is removed and returns again. This time it feels thicker, two fingers then, and there’s a faint sensation of burning but it’s gone almost immediately and then there is gentle motion in and out, in and out, ebb and flow, and that’s almost soothing in a way, too.
His eyes drift closed and he barely has time to register the absence of Leoben’s fingers inside him before something else, something larger begins to breach his body. Lee flinches and tries to pull away, but once again Leoben is there holding him still, his hands as implacable as his intrusion. The sensation of burning now borders on genuine pain and Lee tries to escape it but to no avail. He feels Leoben’s body on his, pressing him down into the mattress, covering him like a blanket as he slowly, inexorably sinks deeper into Lee’s body. When he tries to get his arms beneath him and dislodge the other man Leoben grips his wrists, pins them to the mattress even as he continues to press inside.
“Shhhh, Lee. Shhh.” Leoben’s voice is soft but Lee can barely hear it over the sound of his pulse pounding in his ear. Lee makes an inarticulate sound that might be a sob but all Leoben does is whisper soft words of reassurance in his ear. He remains stretched out over Lee’s body, fully seated inside him and Lee can feel Leoben’s heart thrumming against his back, its rhythm peaceful compared to the staccato beat of Lee’s own.
Lee doesn’t know how long they remain twined together like that before Leoben begins to move, slowly at first, his movements small and almost gentle, as if trying to reassure a skittish animal. Lee’s eyes are squeezed shut and he buries his face in the thin pillow. His cheeks are damp and he thinks they might be tears even though the pain seems to have faded, giving way to a strange feeling of pressure that’s not entirely comfortable but not entirely unpleasant either.
Leoben moves inside him, longer, deeper strokes, in and out, in and out. Water lapping at the shore, Lee thinks, and clings to the thought, floating on the rise and fall of the waves as Leoben’s movements become more insistent, more assured. Leoben shifts slightly and a sudden bolt of pleasure lashes through Lee’s body, making him gasp. Leoben repeats the motion again and again until Lee is sobbing from the intensity of sensation.
His body rides the currents, unconsciously rising up to meet Leoben’s, seeking more stimulation of its own accord. Lee’s hands ball into fists and Leoben’s grip tightens, providing sensation of another kind as Lee pushes and pulls and moves in counterpoint. Leoben’s body is heavy, solid and his breath is warm against Lee’s neck. Leoben whispers to him of God’s love, speaks to him of faith and destiny, but the words don’t register, not entirely. They skip across Lee’s distracted mind like pebbles skipping across a lake on a summer day, flashing like sunlight before they sink beneath the surface and disappear.
Leoben’s body is moving faster now, his thrusts short and brutal and the edge of almost pain is back, tangled up with the pleasure, making it sharper, more intense. Lee begins to tremble. It’s too much: too much sensation, too much strangeness. He’s drowning in it. He buries his face in the pillow, biting down sharply as he comes again, more intensely even than before, pleasure cresting and washing over him. And then he’s floating, disconnected, a bit of flotsam on the tide, as Leoben continues to thrust inside him. His hands are curled around Lee’s wrists with enough force to bruise, but the pain is a distant thing, incapable of piercing the haze of pleasure and shock.
Lee is only barely aware that Leoben has stopped moving. His body is still draped over Lee’s, heavy and warm, his heart beating a rapid tattoo against Lee’s back. Lee closes his eyes and breathes.
After a time, Leoben moves. He pulls away from Lee’s body and Lee feels the chill at once. The mattress dips and shifts and Lee feels a hand stroking along his arm from shoulder to wrist. He opens his eyes to find Leoben perched on the edge of the narrow bed, gazing down at him, his expression thoughtful.
“Did I hurt you?”
Lee frowns for a moment then shakes his head no. Leoben smiles, that benevolent, almost paternal smile he shared with Lee before he kissed his brow. Before he kissed his lips for the first time. Leoben’s fingers trail over Lee’s cheek, his touch gentle and curious while his other hand slowly strokes up and down Lee’s back
“I told you I wouldn’t hurt you, didn’t I?”
Lee nods again, his eyes beginning to close. He can feel the soothing motion of Leoben’s hand on his back, ushering him into sleep. He sinks deeper and deeper beneath the surface and it is just as consciousness fades that he hears Leoben’s voice whisper in his ear one last time.
“God loves you, Lee. In time you’ll understand what that means.”
Lee dreams of sunlight on the water and the gentle slap of waves against the shore.
When Lee awakes the next morning he is alone. The thin gray light of early dawn filters through the dirty window in the kitchen, illuminating the small apartment. He wraps the threadbare blanket around his body, shivering, and casts his gaze around the room, looking for some sign of the other man, of Leoben, knowing that he won’t find any. What few personal belongings there had been were gone, and when Lee’s gaze reaches the table, he’s not entirely surprised to see a single glass sitting beside the empty bottle of rotgut.
It was as if the man never existed at all.
When Lee stands, the blanket shifts and he sees his left wrist, banded with a bracelet of blue and purple bruises. When he looks lower, he sees more bruises on his hips. He stares at them then carefully presses his fingers against the mottled flesh. He winces at the echo of pain, biting his lip at the answering shiver that races along his spine. Leoben existed, even if the only evidence is the marks on his body. Lee doesn’t want to think about what that means. He doesn’t want to think about what any of it means.
He dresses quickly, ignoring the stiffness of his body and the unexpected, unaccustomed twinges of almost pain as he moves. He slips from the empty apartment, down the stairs and out into the stingy sunlight. As he moves closer to the docks, Lee can hear the sounds of life continuing on in the wake of the night’s events, as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. Lee hunches more deeply into his jacket. He shoves his hands into his pockets, hiding the bruises out of sight, and decides to do the same.
He turns and heads home, the sound of water slapping against the shore following in his wake until it fades away completely.
Finis