Based after the events of Silent Hill: The Room, Eileen's death ending. Warning for mature content! I do now own Silent Hill etc etc.
Anyway, I'm not good at smut. It's an attempt, I suppose.
He woke with a start, the sheets tangled around him, clinging to the sweat filming his skin. He lay motionless staring at the ceiling fan as it revolved. What had he been dreaming of this time? Maybe Walter Sullivan was hiding in his dreams again, keeping him tied to his Otherworld even in his ultimate death.
Jumping up from the bed, he padded into the kitchen and took out a bottle of whiskey from a cupboard, sloshing it into a glass, letting it slide down in throat. The sleeping pills weren't working, nothing was really working but the booze. Why couldn't the man just leave him alone?
He moved into the living room, and slumped on the sofa. The air was cooler in here, fresh against his skin. Sweat was cooling on his hairline, and his breathing was levelling out. He could hear the fan in his bedroom humming and chopping.
"Henry..."
A sudden dead weight clenched at his insides. He froze...her voice...her voice
"Henry...?"
The sound came from the shadowed hallway, and as he looked up, a figure emerged. Slender, pale skinned, softly and fiercely beautiful. She was whole, solid and real and he could smell her perfume.
He made a choking sound in his throat "Eileen...no. You're dead. I watched you die"
She advanced on him, with a smile, but not her own smile. The smile of someone that knew his secrets.
He was still frozen in terror when she sat next to him. She took the glass from his hand, took a sip from the side his lips had touched and put it on the coffee table. She curled up like a cat on the sofa and lead her head in his lap, a hand resting on his leg "Sweet, awkward Henry. I've missed you..." he could feel her hot breath through the thin fabric of his boxers. It took all of his strength not to push her off of him. Instead he gently eased her head away and swallowed "No"
She looked up with large, imploring eyes "Don't...don't you miss me, Henry?" she chewed at her lip, brushed hair from her face. The way she kept saying his name...it sent an uncomfortable, pleasurable jolt through him.
"Of course I do. There isn't a day where I don't think about you...I could've..."
Eileen sat up and swung a leg over his seated form, to straddle him. She took his hands and pushed them over her body, made him cup her breasts "I want you to touch me, Henry...please, I need your touch..." she wriggled and rocked over him, her breath shallow, whimpers coming from her lips. He tried to move his hands away but she held firm "Please, I need you inside of me, I want you to be a part of me forever..."
"No no...no Eileen..." he frowned, his brow knitting deeply in frustration. Her softness beneath his hands, her perfume...he could feel the inevitable response in his lap. He needed her close to him. Maybe if she was close then he wouldn't feel guilty any more. His hands moved up from her to clutch her face and he pressed him lips greedily against hers, tangling his fingers in her hair. A side of Henry people didn't see often.
She moaned against him lips, and as he tongue found his, he wrapped his arms around her and pushed up from the sofa, carrying her the short distance to the kitchen. A long arm swept everything off and it fell to the floor with clatter and splashes, and he pushed over it. She hastily pulled her dress up around her hips and he pulled her panties down. She initiated the kiss this time, and as she did, he pushed his boxers down and arched his hips. He was tall enough for this, and she moved forward a little until he was able to thrust into her deeply.
Henry woke with a start, the sheets tangled around him tightly. He was breathing hard and between his thighs he felt a hard erection. He felt himself heating a little. Thank god he lived alone...he missed Eileen so much.