White Wolf Fan Fiction Presents:
~Coming Home~
An Uncharted Story
Title: Coming Home
Words: 3,242
Warnings: Yaoi (Boy Love), explicit sexual content, major angst, major hurt/comfort
Pairings: Harry Flynn/Nathan Drake
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I still don't own Uncharted, or it's characters, however I do find myself enjoying writing them immensely~
Summary: After the events of Drake's Deception, Nathan finally comes back home after having disappeared four months prior. However, the little welcome home party he expected doesn't exactly turn out like he planned…
A/N: This will be a two parter… just gotta figure out when I'll write the second, happier part for you guys and when I'll have it up. *smiles sheepishly* Sorry for leaving this… smutty angsty thing in your hands...
-0-
Four months. Nathan had been gone for four months and he honest to god couldn't have waited any longer to finally return home and into the arms of his much loved and very missed lover.
Though honestly, he was just glad to finally be rid of the scorching desert sands he'd spent what felt like years within.
Drake could only hope, however, that Flynn wasn't too upset with him, for having left in the first place. It never escaped his thoughts how he'd suddenly left him without so much as a goodbye or a reason why.
-0-
"Oh thank god…" Nathan muttered, happily relieved, after exiting the taxi car to see the familiar building that was his and Flynn's apartment complex. He tugged at the scarf around his neck, nervous and excited at the same time, adjusting his hold on his single bag before finally starting up the steps and up towards their floor. "Please be home…" he whispered, half begging as he wanted so desperately to see his lover again after so long.
Though he had to admit, there was a small part of him that wanted Flynn to be gone, just for the moment, so he could settle in and avoid what part of him thought was to be an inevitable fight about his sudden disappearance.
Digging out his keys, he struggled to keep his hand steady as he unlocked the door and pushed it open, body tense and mind running a mile a minute. He breathed out a small sigh of relief to see that the lights were all shut off, but that relief was short lived the moment he set his bag down on the floor and shut the door, only to be slammed against it by a very pissed off Brit who looked and smelled the slightest bit drunk. "H-Harry…!" Drake choked out, eyes wide before they closed tightly, gripping tightly at the older man's arms as Flynn trapped him against the door by one arm against his throat.
"What the bloody fuck are you doing here?!" Flynn hissed at him, voice dangerously low and filled with venom, so much that it made Drake's heart clench to hear them.
"I-I… y-you're hur-hurting me…" he struggled to get out and heard a low growl come from the other man before the arm on his throat let up and soon enough he found both his hands pinned to the door instead, as he tried desperately to get his breath back. He had known, at least, some part of him had, that Flynn would be upset with him and hurt about him disappearing like that, but the anger and the venom in the other's voice was tearing Drake apart from the inside out. This was not the welcome home he expected, not at all.
"Finally got tired of parading around with that whore, mate?" Flynn spat and Nathan shook his head sharply.
"W-what!? No! H-Harry, c-come on… I-I'd never…" he swallowed hard and looked into clouded coffee eyes, hating how guarded they were. "I-I was on a job! I-I swear to you… I-I wouldn't hurt you like that… I-I could never… never…" he choked out, trembling and he bit back a surprised yelp when Flynn suddenly kissed him hard on the mouth, all tongue and teeth and it was painful, but at the same time, it was too perfect and Drake moaned, eyes closed once more.
"A job…! You fucking left me for a job!?" Flynn snapped, gaze furious, his grip on Drake's wrists tightening a little and the treasure hunter winced, but he dealt with it, knowing what was to come. "Do you have any idea what I've been through for the last four bloody months!? Four, Drake! Four fucking months!"
"I-I know, b-but I got so excited when Sully told me about it and I… I'm so sorry but I found it, the reason Sir Francis did what he did… w-we found the Atlantis of the Sands, Flynn, the lost City of Ubar!" He had hoped that this would quell whatever anger that Flynn felt but oh how wrong he was.
"The desert! You went to the bloody desert!? Are you mad!?" Flynn snapped at him, tearing away from his lover, stomping his way into the kitchen to grab himself another bottle of beer, popping the cap and taking several swigs of it as Drake slowly made his way closer, feeling suddenly very small.
"I-I don't understand… I-I thought-"
"No of course you don't." Flynn snarled, spinning around to look at Nathan. "Four months, Nathan…" he added slowly, "I thought you died. You left without so much as a word and then you don't call or send a letter to me for so long. What the bloody hell was I supposed to think…?" now he just sounded tired and Drake found himself feeling guilty.
"I-I'm sorry, honestly, I am. And… and I would've called or something, but I'd lost my phone after the plane crash and… and then spending so long lost I-" he suddenly cut himself off, looking like a deer caught in the headlights when Flynn grabbed him by his scarf, eyes blazing at this new knowledge.
"What…?" he questioned, low and dangerous and Nathan swallowed hard.
"I-I didn't… I mean… I-I… d-did I say that? I-I meant that I-" Flynn cut him off with a growl, grip tightening on the scarf and Nathan could've sworn he heard a few of the threads snap.
"Shut up…!" Flynn barked, pushing Drake away and the younger man let out a startled yelp, stumbling before suddenly falling against the couch, disheveled and legs apart to keep his balance the way he had landed. "You don't ever know when to keep your bloody mouth shut, do you? Four months and you've spent them all galavanting on some treasure hunt in the desert where I now have the knowledge of there being a fucking plane crash, assumingly in the middle of the bloody fucking desert." Nathan let out a choked whimper, watching with wide, fearful eyes as Flynn stalked towards him, looking the epitome of a predator stalking it's cornered prey. "Am I wrong?" Flynn asked, in a tone that just dared Nathan to say yes, to lie and tell him that yes, he was wrong.
Drake trembled at the tone and swallowed hard, clutching tightly at the couch as he tried to scoot himself up, to retreat somehow and make his escape, but Flynn was on him before he could, pinning the younger man against the couch, expression feral.
"Am I wrong, Nathan?" he growled, eyes narrowed and unable to help it, Nathan shook his head, letting out a hiss when Flynn took both his wrists in one hand, pinning them against the arm of the couch near his head. "I didn't think so, mate."
"W-what are… are you doing…?" Drake questioned, sounding a bit apprehensive, though breathless as he was. Four months was an incredibly long time to be away from your lover and the position they were currently in definitely wasn't helping at all.
"You owe me, Drake," Flynn said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world and it probably was. The younger male immediately knew what Flynn meant, what he wanted and he blushed, swallowing hard as he he squirmed against the couch. "Tell me, darling," Flynn started, tauntingly as he brushed his fingers teasingly against Drake's jeans, already beginning to feel the effect he was having on the younger man, "when you weren't on your little… adventure…" he hissed the word, still definitely angry, punctuating the word with a hard press against Nathan's clothed dick, delighting in the choked off moan, "did you ever think about me…?" he finished in a low tone, relishing in the slight shiver it caused to go through his lover.
"A-always…" Nathan whimpered, eyes closed tight before they opened, hazy blue-grey looking up at Flynn. "I-I never stopped…" he admitted, and Flynn frowned, his heart clenching before he scowled again, fingers deftly undoing Drake's belt before unbuttoning his pants, taking Nathan's hard-on in his hands, grip tight as he hissed at the other.
"Then why didn't you tell me…!?" he snapped, bristling still at the hurt that had caused him, just finding Drake gone one morning and he hadn't come back, not that night, nor the next or the next several nights after.
"I-I'm sor-sorry!" Nathan choked out, jerking his head to the side. His mind was hazy with pleasure, pain, and hurt, the hand on his cock painfully delicious and the words sharp and stinging in his head.
Flynn growled at him and shook his head, jerking his hand and he listened to Nathan's broken moan, "Shut up, Nathan…! Just stop…!" He took Drake's mouth with his, the kiss biting and sharp, teeth nipping at reddened lips and tongues exploring what they hadn't in so long. Flynn tasted like beer, and a strange mix of lemons and honey and something so completely Flynn, and Drake had missed every bit of it, drinking it up like a man starved for water.
That analogy nearly made him cringe, but he bit it back, along with a painful moan when Flynn pulled his pants roughly down, along with his boxers, with the hand that had previously been on his dick. "P-please…!" Nathan pleaded, bucking his hips up and then all of a sudden Flynn was pulling away, a sharp hiss on his breath.
"You owe me, mate… and you're going to feel every bit of torture I felt during all four of those months…" Flynn growled dark and low and for one brief second Drake panicked, eyes snapping wide open, thinking that Flynn was going to leave, like Drake did and he choked on his saliva, trying to speak up.
"N-no! C-come on! I-I'm sorry-!" Drake cried out when he suddenly felt fingers at his entrance and his eyes closed, tight as he gritted his teeth, feeling the pain as they probed, though not deep enough to go in or to hurt as much as they could, his entrance, very much dry. "H-Harry…!" he groaned and jerked away from the fingers, hoping to whatever God out there that Flynn wasn't angry enough to truly go in dry and without anything to help. "I-I'm sorry…!" he choked out, tears crawling down his cheeks now, trembling, as every emotion he felt heightened in his panic and disarray. "I-I'm so s-sorry…!"
He never noticed when the fingers left, or when the fire left Flynn's eyes, leaving only empty sorrow and hurt and love hidden from months of thinking he'd been abandoned by the one he loved most.
Drake hiccuped from his tears, the hiccup turning into a moan when Flynn had pulled back to take Nathan's hard-on into his mouth, releasing the other's wrists to splay the hand over Drake's fluttering stomach, his other hand brushing over the hunter's balls, teasing him. Flynn spoke not a word, unable to if he wanted, anyway, as he brought Drake to his peak, only to pull away at the last minute, still teasing but it wasn't quite enough to bring him off. "F-fuck…!" Drake bucked his hips again, tears dry on his cheeks, his fists clutching tightly at the fabric on the couch, trying to ground himself, his body and mind on overload.
When Flynn felt Drake had calmed down just enough, he did it again, taking Drake into his mouth and reveling in the choked sounds that the treasure hunter made, in pleasure and pain, because of the thief. He did this two, three more times, until the younger male was in tears from his frustration and from the painful pleasure, his body coiled tight and his words a garbled mess of pleading gibberish.
"H-Ha-Ha…!" Drake could barely even get out Flynn's name, panting hard and writhing under Flynn's touch as he tried to finally get completion. "P-ple-ah!" he cried out in frustration, burying his face in his arms, when Flynn pulled away again, leaving the hunter unsatisfied and beyond coherency.
"What is it you want, sweetheart…?" Flynn asked, finally speaking, his voice low and deceptively calm, even as his own dick throbbed against his jeans, even as he was so close to completion himself from torturing Drake like this. "Tell me… and I'll give it to you. Anything you want…" he purred, moving his other hand, the one on Nathan's stomach, to his chest, teasing the other and brushing his fingers against all the right places to hear those precious little noises again, noises that Flynn had missed nearly as much as the one who made them.
"I-I-I c-ca-ha… P-pl-plea…" Nathan whimpered, biting down on his lower lip to try and calm himself, but he was beyond saving at this point. All he wanted was the sweet relief that came with his release… something only Flynn could give him.
"Now now, mate, you know I can't give you what you want if you don't tell me…" Flynn snickered then, leaning just a tiny bit closer to his lover, "How am I to know if… perhaps… you want to be touched, like this…" he moved the hand that had been teasing Drake's balls to stroke a finger against his dick, licking his lips when Drake let out a delicious whimper, nearly all his anger dissipating as he watched his lover fall apart so completely under his touch. "Or if you want to be touched… here…?" he brought the finger down to the smaller man's entrance, eyes darkening when Drake hissed and flinched again, before all out moaning when the finger just barely teased it, creating pleasure and not pain. "How should I know if you want release… or if you want to be fucked so hard you won't be able to walk for days after…?" Drake let out a broken moan at the words and Flynn smirked, thoroughly pleased that Drake had finally been reduced to a pile of nothing but whimpers and moans.
After all, he knew his lover well enough to know how much teasing the other could take before he couldn't take it anymore. All he had to do was find the right strings… and pluck… until they finally snapped.
"Do you want that, love?" Flynn asked, suddenly, pressing his hand hard against Drake's chest, watching delightedly as clouded blue-grey eyes, filled with tears blinked open, staring at him, pleading for him to take care of him and to make the pain stop. While he distracted Drake with his words, Flynn made quick work of his jeans, doing no more than enough to allow him to pull his cock out, hissing when the cold air of the apartment hit him at full force, but he cared little after he heard Drake plead for him, with a barely there whisper of his name. "Is it, sweetheart?" Flynn cooed the petname, brushing the tip of his cock against Drake's entrance. "Would you like for me to take you apart so completely…? To fuck you right here and right now until you can't even remember your own name? Or perhaps until the point where you won't be able to walk away from me again… off on some… adventure… without leaving even a single… fucking… note…" he hissed at the other, punctuating each word with a hard thrust of his hips, his dick rubbing against Drake's ass and he barely fought off a shuttered moan as Drake cried out, reduced to whimpering pleas and words that vaguely sounded like 'yes' and 'please' and something that sounded a bit like a broken 'sorry', which pulled at Flynn's heart, tightening his chest until he finally couldn't take it anymore.
Because although Drake was the one to abandon him… Flynn knew his lover. And he knew Drake was truly sorry… that he felt so… guilty and so hurt, more hurt than Flynn could ever hope to fell. And maybe… just maybe… this was the equivalent to paying Flynn back for the proverbial shot to the heart back in Shambhala… but no… because Drake would never stoop so low to do that. Never.
Hissing to himself as he shook the dark thoughts from his head and thrust three fingers in front of Drake's mouth, eyes narrowed dangerously in his own anger at himself and the little remaining anger at Drake showing, but the treasure hunter was beyond caring at that point, just happy to wet the thief's fingers because he knew what that meant and he wanted it so bad, it hurt.
Flynn pulled his fingers roughly from Drake's mouth after a few minutes, deeming them wet enough for preparation, brushing them against Drake's entrance before pushing one in, rough but not rough enough to cause harm on purpose.
Drake writhed and whined, pushing down on the fingers as they entered him, one by one, until all three were thrusting in and out of him as he pushed back like the wanton little cock-slut he was.
And Flynn was tired of waiting, so he decided to give Drake what he wanted, knowing that Drake was desperate to feel him. And even more desperate for the release that he was still denied.
Licking his palm, coating it with his own saliva, Flynn stroked his own hard-on a few times to wet it enough that it wouldn't cause his lover any unnecessary pain, before lining himself up. With a choked out plea from the smaller man, too far gone to make a coherent sound, Flynn finally pushed in, gripping Drake's hips tight and hard, aware that the treasure hunter was going to have bruises on them come the morning.
The first thrust had Drake crying out, his legs wrapping around Flynn the best he could, knuckles white from his tight grip on the couch, and he trembled with each thrust afterwards until all he could feel was the pleasure, the heat tight in his gut until he couldn't take it anymore. At the first strike to his prostate, Drake finally came, harder than he ever had before, all over his shirt, just barely missing his beloved scarf and jacket altogether.
Flynn himself couldn't have even lasted another few thrusts if he wanted to, climaxing a few seconds after Drake had collapsed from the weight of his own body. Breathing heavily, it took Flynn a few minutes before he realized that Drake had passed out from exhaustion and with a grimace, he pulled out of his lover, feeling just a tiny bit sick of himself.
Drained and exhausted himself, Flynn made his way around, cleaning them both up before setting the exhausted treasure hunter in their bed, after ridding the hunter of his clothes, and dressing him in a pair of sweatpants instead.
He couldn't bring himself to follow Drake's example though and he grabbed a jacket, after dressing in somewhat cleaner clothes, and left to clear his head, disgusted with how he had reacted and guilt-ridden when he remembered Drake's tears and the fear he'd seen in those beautiful stormy eyes of the younger man.
Eyes that he hadn't seen in four months…
"...God Flynn…" he cursed himself, because after a few minutes he came to the realization that when Drake woke up, he wouldn't even be mad at Flynn for what he'd done because the self-sacrificing bastard probably thought he deserved it. "Could you be… anymore of an arse…?" he added in a whisper, to nobody at all but himself.