Hidden Guise :
Chapter One—What the hell are you doing here?
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Rating: PG-13/M
Word Count: 1021
Summary: That which is hidden may be most powerful: Tyler proves to be a vital brother of the Covenant. "Seek the road which makes death a fulfillment." –Dag Hammarskjöld. Starring Baby Boy and Reid Garwin with Chase Collins.
Notes: This should be a fairly long fanfic despite my reputation of writing only oneshots and drabbles. Perhaps ten chapters? One can only hope I get that far. Nevertheless, Tyler Simms and Reid Garwin are the stars of this slight piece of fiction. I present a mild warning of character death, language and implied-non-graphic-rape; and advise you to take note of the time changes of each chapter—this story is divided by piece and put together in a unpredictable order for the benefit of the beholder. As for pairings (i.e. Reid/Tyler), it's only slash if you read it that way.
Mainly, I ask for patience—this is my first attempt at a chapter story. If you have questions, ask; if you're rude, don't expect anything. Advice and feedback is always welcome.
Disclaimer: Originally written and (presumably) owned by J.S. Cardone.
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Chase Collins ran his hands down his thighs as though to smooth the jean material stretched upon them. He was considering a thought, his eyes settled on the hardwood floor between the two beds in the dormitory, scratched and faded with the wear of many years' feet. The mahogany color was still rich, however, the initial wax-job was fading, creating the look of an old inn room whose least favorite word was "renovation." A pair of boxers poked from beneath the bed opposite him, supposedly Tyler's; they were royal blue and deeply contrasting with the floorboards. Next to them was a pair of too-small-to-be-comfortable shoes.
Chase blinked after a long moment, and looked to the dormitory door whose handle was turning. Just a few seconds and in clambered Tyler's slight figure, a couple of bags slung over his shoulders and arms. Unaware of Chase's presence, the boy busied himself with closing the door, dumping the bags, and throwing his keys to a dresser—a series of proceedings he practiced everyday in his return from classes. A wholesale minute passed before the older warlock's presence was noticed; the younger had stooped to pick up the half-hidden boxers and came face-to-face with Chase's leg.
"Shit!" Jumping back, startled, the brunette pinned his blue eyes to his schoolmate in suspicion. It was a profound glare, drenched in odium, but the other only smirked, almost wishing he'd said "boo."
"Surprise," Chase replied, his voice tainted with mischief. His hands slid further down his thighs, falling to the center of his lap clasped together, and both elbows propped his torso above his knees. "Those—" he gestured with one hand to the garment in Tyler's hand "—are my boxers, you know."
A silence sauntered between them, and he peered curiously at the standing dark-haired son of Ipswich. Then, he also stood, brushing down the front of his jeans, movements deliberately deferred. Satisfied and grinning, he held out his hand and waited for Tyler to react. The younger had fallen into a diminutive stupor in which his blue eyes blanked and stared, and time seem to pass over itself. When the seventeen-year-old at long last processed the comment, he regarded the Ipswich traitor and scowled.
Thrusting the briefs toward their owner's face, he solicited thus, "What the hell are you doing here?"
He swiveled and turned his back to Chase, snatching the too-small sneakers with him to toss into his closet. Then he went for one of his bags. Chase pursed his lips, stretching the elastic waist of royal blue, watching as the creases of the fabric flattened. The crease of his mouth followed suit until the ends curled, and folding the boxers, he muttered, "I thought you might have wanted these—" he glanced at Tyler "—you know, a keepsake."
Tyler kept his attention on the contents of his gym bag yet managed with forced calm, "Fucking keepsake for what?" The bag lay exposed on his bed, hands sifting through the items, psyche aware of Chase's stare. For a moment, the senior warlock had a despicable look of rejection perched on his features—it quickly faded as he glanced away from Tyler and back at the boxers which he slipped in the side of his jacket. Clearing his throat, his blank features meld into their usual smirk; Tyler picked up another bag with a loud drag against the floor.
"Don't you remember, Tyler?" Chase asked, his voice unusually smooth. He was once again watching the younger boy, body now facing him. Sliding his hands in his pockets, he stepped towards the bed, head tilted in question. The brunette continued to unpack, unwilling to be interrupted.
After a while, he replied, "I don't remember because nothing happened."
Chase frowned, and slowly braced himself on the bed. His eyes slipped beneath Tyler's line of vision on the base of the bag, and the youngest member of the Covenant was forced to regard the fifth. The elder's glower was gone, replaced by stoicism, but there still remained an air of dissatisfaction. Nevertheless, Chase was composed, leaning forward to face his prey so personally.
"Denial," he hissed—it was vicious yet somehow airy. Tyler turned his cheek to Chase as though the words were bad breath blown to his face, then retreated to a straighter posture. A very sly smile crept along the seam of Chase's lips and he too straightened.
In the silence that followed, the line between Tyler's eyebrows deepened and one could see that his tolerant demeanor was deserting him. It was somewhat unfortunate for the boy, for his emotions to be so easily read, because they led him to a quicker defeat. Even his brothers used it against him, if only for embarrassment purposes and swift teasings; Chase, of course, would employ it for far more serious affairs.
"Oh, the guilt," the warlock jeered. His eyes were glowing with sickening delight quite contrary to Tyler's whose blue eyes withered with anxiety. "What would Reid do if he found out?" The question might have been a grim one, especially with Chase advancing on him from around the bed; however, the color in Tyler's cheek suggested sudden amusement. Had the circumstances been different, he might have laughed—the proposal that Reid and him were "more than friends" was rather entertaining. Tyler felt unexpectedly comforted, the hasty thought that Chase Collins didn't know everything flouncing in his mind, and almost smirked under the elder's gaze.
"He might use against you," Chase mused, his proximity to the subordinate pushing him against the wall. "Or—" a calloused finger slipped down Tyler's jaw "—he might kill you."
Both of Chase's eyes blackened and a wisp of thread inched from his forefinger, stitching into the brunette's tan skin. Preparing to defend himself, Tyler endeavored to move a limb but found it was impossible. "You didn't think my first curse would be to hurt you, did you?" Chase smiled whilst Tyler paled. "I'm a bit smarter than that—cursing you motionless renders you powerless, and easily, you're mine." The smile wilted into a glower. "Mine for a little play date…"
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End of Chapter One. Review, please and thank you.