Reproach
Written for the prompt : Blake's 7, Avon/Blake, reproach
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.
Reproach
Avon turned away. He didn't need to see the look in Blake's eyes, didn't need to hear the words. He knew it all already, had heard it often enough. He wasn't a good man; intelligent maybe but not good. He knew that, had heard it for more of his life than he'd heard anything else.
He'd been the unwanted child, surplus to requirements, awkward and antisocial. Mature beyond his years in terms of what he knew and understood, but incapable of fitting in or behaving appropriately no matter how he'd tried. He'd spent his life unwanted so this here now was nothing new.
He only had himself to blame. He should have known better, should have kept his distance like he'd intended from the start.
"Avon," Blake's voice behind him was softer than he expected, enough to make him pause in his retreat. "Kerr . . ." Avon put a hand out to steady himself against the wall. He took a breath, tried to draw himself back together to the man he knew he could be. He was too old for childish hopes, he knew who he was, what he was and this was foolishness, stupidity to allow himself to hope, to wish.
He didn't move, just took another breath, surprised and jerking away when Blake stepped in front and a hand came up to touch his cheek. "Don't do this. You hide, but I can still see you."
It was easy to sneer, to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. "You don't have any idea what you're talking about, Blake!" Irritation, anger and a welter of other emotions bubbled inside him.
"You're wrong. You are the one out of his depth, the one who doesn't know what he's talking about. You don't think I know you, I don't know what it's been like for you all these years. I know, Kerr, I know."
Avon wrenched himself away, breath shortening. "You don't have to do this anymore, Avon. I'm not going anywhere and I'm not letting you out of my bed that easily. You are what you are, as am I . . . You won't ever be the son your father wanted . . . You can only ever be true to yourself and you aren't doing that right now. You're fighting something good because you don't think you can have something good."
Blake pulled him closer again. "Stop fighting me on this, Avon."
Avon sighed, letting the anger drain away as he relaxed into Blake's hold. "Are you always going to be so melodramatic?" he murmured.
"I guess that depends. Are you always going to try sneaking off as soon as you think I'm asleep?"
"It's . . ."
"Not like that? Complicated?" Blake laughed affectionately. "I guess I'm going to keep being melodramatic then . . ." He turned his head, lifting Avon's chin with his fingers and placing a chaste kiss on his lips. "Now I think it's time we got some sleep, don't you? Quite enough drama for one evening!"