Super Bad

Super Bad

Dwight's apartment was over top of the hardware store, which the blond said was more a matter of convenience than preference. Nathan pulled in between two vehicles, one the van he was used to seeing Dwight in and the other an older looking green pickup. The truck, Nathan noted, was loaded down with wires, buckets, and wood.

"Yours?" He asked once he'd walked over to meet the taller man at the door.

The other man glanced to the side then nodded. "For smaller jobs. Not everything calls for me to have yards of wire, body sized garbage bags, and crossbow bolts."

Nathan smiled slightly. "Just the ones I call you for."

"If that's what you want to think." This was punctuated with a twisting of lips that was almost, but not really, a smile. Not for the first time Nathan got the feeling that Dwight knew more than he was sharing and not for the first time he felt the flash of annoyance at that.

He wasn't sure what to make of Dwight and the man's more or less self-declared position of 'fixer' in his life. The blond had never really asked if Nathan needed his unique skill set to deal with the troubles, but had simply continued to do what he'd done when Nathan's father was alive. It irritated him more than a little bit; he didn't like that his father had kept Dwight hidden from him and he didn't like that the other man was out there 'fixing' Trouble related incidents that Nathan wasn't aware of. Worse still, he was handling these incidents and wasn't keeping Nathan informed of them.

The thing that really and truly got to Nathan, above all else, was that he needed Dwight. Things were only getting worse, bodies were starting to accumulate, and with the Reverend and this random shadowy organization targeting him Nathan didn't know how much longer he could keep the people in Haven safe from the outside world. Dwight was invaluable in Nathan's attempts to keep their town safe and, as angry as his interference made him, he couldn't afford to continue on without him.

And that was the reason he was here, outside of his apartment, engaging in half-assed conversation instead of being at his own place, sleeping away what was left of the utter clusterfuck today had been.

He'd wanted Dwight to go to the hospital but the other man had adamantly refused. He'd insisted that he'd been fine, having taken all of the shots to his bulletproof vest. Besides, and her Dwight had graced him with a look that was vaguely scathing, it wasn't like he could go down to the ER and say he'd been shot 12 times but was fine because he was troubled and so never left home without safety gear. Nathan had grumbled for a bit, until Dwight had finally told him he was more than welcome to follow him home and see for himself.

Nathan was pretty sure the other man hadn't been serious at all and had been mocking his 'concern' but he'd taken him up on the offer nonetheless. The last words spoken between them were an annoyed huff from Dwight to the tune of 'Your father never did this.'

In a strange way that made Nathan feel justified. He respected his father and had, in his own way, come to terms with the many things that had been left unsaid and hidden between them, but he wasn't his father. He wouldn't be taking the same hands off approach his father had been so fond of.

Dwight pushed open the door then stood to the side, using his body to keep it open for Nathan. Past the door there was a small area, barely big enough for Dwight to stand in, and then a set of stairs leading up and a set leading down. He inclined his head towards the narrow stairs leading up. "I have to grab some things out of the van. The door's open."

Nathan brushed past him, shoulder and arm connecting with the other man's chest, while casting a slightly amused look at Dwight. Heat tickled at his arm, seeping through the sleeve of his shirt. "You don't lock your…"

He put a foot on the bottom stairs then froze, mind that was once again used to not associating with his sense of touch catching up with his body. The words died in his mouth and for a moment all he could do was stare straight ahead.

"Err. Nathan?"

He turned on Dwight, hand coming up and colliding with the other man's chest. He pushed the blond back, unthinkingly crowding into his companion. Dwight's eyebrows shot up, becoming part of his hairline, even as he allowed himself to be shoved against the door.

"You're warm." The words burst out of Nathan's mouth before he could stop them, shock kicking his usual thoughtful nature in the teeth and taking over. The taller man was warm and solid; Nathan could feel his heart thrumming just under his fingertips.

Dwight's eyes cut over to the side for a moment then found their way back to Nathan. "I do tend to be around human body temperature, yes."

"No." Nathan said, brow furrowing further. "I mean-"

"I know what you mean." Dwight slapped his hand away, the sudden sting making Nathan draw back and stare down at his hand. The pain vanished, as if it had never been there at all, and he felt nothing. "Come on. I'll explain."

It didn't take long for Nathan to be seated on Dwight's couch, a beer in his hand. He wasn't drinking it and was instead staring at the bottle, watching condensation drip down its frosty exterior and over his hand. It might as well have not been there for all that he felt it from it. No weight, no pressure, no chill…just the usual nothingness that he had come to expect from things.

When he was younger and had gone through the troubles for the first time he'd had trouble holding onto things, being unable to make him hand conform to objects or make his brain 'accept' that he was holding onto things. He had to stare at things, watch his hand close around them, and then watch himself hold them least he accidently let go. Many glasses had shattered in his home.

He'd adapted better this time around, a strange form of muscle memory having kicked in.

He was grateful for it. When he first realized he couldn't feel again he's been afraid he would hurt himself or worse, hurt someone else. He didn't know his own strength anymore couldn't tell if he was gripping too hard or feel his gun in his hands anymore. But somehow his brain had filled in the gaps, making it easy to go about things as normal.

Aside from the lack of feeling of course.

Until realizing that he could feel Audrey's touch he'd even come to not be bothered by his affliction. Well… no, he couldn't say he wasn't bothered by it, but he could say he'd come to not wake up in the morning wishing he was anywhere but Haven and anyone but whom he was. He'd been able to go about his life. But then Audrey had shown up and he'd been subject to brief snatches of human touch, moments of being painfully aware of what he was missing, ever since.

He'd been briefly cured and then made the choice to return to his cursed state to help someone else, but doing so had left a…hollow feeling in him. He knew he'd done the right thing, but he didn't feel good about it. He didn't feel anything about it, really, and that worried him. He couldn't help but be afraid that his curse was spreading somehow and beginning to affect not just his body but his emotions as well.

What if he became as unfeeling on the inside as he was on the outside?

Dwight was sitting across from him in a chair he'd pulled away from the bar that divided his small kitchen from his equally small living room. The wall that didn't have a couch or a bay window taking up the entirety of it was made up of a built in entertainment system. A TV sat there but, judging by the thick covering of dust and the plug hanging off to the side it hadn't been used in quite some time.

"So. I suppose you'd like some kind of explanation."

"I can feel you. I can't feel anything or anyone." Nathan wasn't one to be derailed easily.

"Aside from Audrey, you mean." Dwight said. Nathan drew back a little bit, unsure of what to say. He didn't let the information that Audrey was immune to the troubles, and thus able to feel his touch, slip lightly. In fact he kept it closely guarded in order to protect the woman who'd come to mean so much to him.

Sometimes Nathan thought he was in love with her. Other times he wondered if he was confusing romantic love with a different kind of love and maybe letting the fact he could feel her influence the way he perceived things.

Finally he spoke, cautious. "What makes you think that?"

Dwight tilted his head to the side, something about the way his eyebrow raised screaming 'Holy shit you're a fucking moron.' It made Nathan uncomfortable and, much against his will, he looked towards the blank TV screen.

"I've been telling you since we met, I fix things." He put emphasis on the word fix, working it as if it were the key to the whole thing. Nathan shook his head. He imagined he was frowning, but he couldn't really be sure of his facial expressions unless he put the conscious effort into making them. Still, he felt like he should be frowning. "It's another part of my…troubles. When I touch things it's like…something tells me how to fix them. I know the perfect way to get to a heart of the problem and make it better or the perfect thing to say or do, or can manage to get a person what they need."

"That's it then. My father knew what you could do and used you to clean up all of the messes the troubles caused." Nathan let the whole thing unravel in his head. "Is that why he never said anything about you, because he didn't want to expose you?"

"Maybe. It is an interesting skill. Some people with intentions not as good as your father might want to hold being Troubled over my head to get me to use what I can do for less than pure purposes."

"Because hiding bodies and cleaning up after freaks is pure."

"Sometimes." There was a pause between them then: "I mean, did you think your father trusted me to clean up things in Haven because I'm so good with my hands? …I am, by the way. Good with my hands I mean."

Nathan looked back at the blond, not sure what to make of the sudden casual tone. Dwight stared at him intently and, once again, Nathan looked away in discomfort. There was something in Dwight's eyes, like he could see into Nathan. Audrey looked at him like that sometimes, but her looks usually held a touch of sadness and pity. He knew she didn't consciously feel sorry for him, but cared about him enough to wish that he didn't have to live like he did. When she came in and checked his coffee in the morning he could see the closed off look on her face, and he knew that whatever she was thinking would be the thing that came between any chance of a relationship between them.

Dwight's gaze held neither, and instead seemed to be more a…curiously interested nature. But, more than that, there was a kind of heat behind it.

"I'm not fixed." Nathan said, wanting to break the silence and stay on the topic at hand. It was a safe topic, or at least as safe as anything ever got in his life these days. Sitting and talking about the Troubles and the various oddities people were afflicted with…that was easy.

Dwight's hand invaded his field of vision, reaching for his own. There was a hesitation and Nathan drew in a breath, suddenly nervous. Thoughts ran through his head, each worse than the one before. What if it was a onetime thing? What if he'd somehow imagined it? Maybe he was finally losing it, like so many of the other troubled people in Haven did.

Dwight's hand touched his own and, as if a flip had been switched, sensation returned. Nathan was expecting it this time (hoping for it at least) and yet was still surprised as his whole body suddenly returned to him. He could feel Dwight's hand (roughened skin and calloused fingertips) on his own and the chill of the beer seeping into his fingertips.

That gave him pause. He could feel Audrey, but only where they were touching. She didn't make it so he could feel other things. She was immune to his trouble, but she didn't 'fix' it as it were.

"That is…" Nathan started then trailed off, not sure how to finish his statement. He breathed then tried again. "That is a lot more useful than just having bullets tend to find you."

"Considering the lack of holes in you, I think you should respect my Trouble a little bit more." Dwight's fingers tapped against the back of his hand, drumming out an easy rhythm. Part of Nathan felt like breaking contact would e the only proper thing to do here, but another part of him wanted to soak in the contact.

He set his beer down then flexed his fingers, willing the cold away from them. The silence between them stretched until it became almost oppressive. Nathan knew that the longer they sat there saying nothing the harder it would be to say anything and that, eventually, Dwight would draw back and then Nathan would once again be left with his curse.

As if hearing his thoughts Dwight's fingers stopped their drumming. Nathan looked up; finding the other man staring at him with a surprisingly open expression, worry warring with the lust Nathan had suspected was there. Dwight blinked and then coughed, a flash of embarrassment making its way over his face before it smoothed into something more neutral.

"Eventually I'm going to need my hand back. I think maybe you should go."

Another pause and then Dwight shifted, clearly intending to finally break the contact between them. Nathan turned his hand, catching Dwight's before he could pull back. Dwight frowned slightly, eyes darting away from Nathan from a moment.

Nathan's brain rushed to catch up with the situation, trying to weigh his options quickly. Dwight was attracted to him, that much was a given. Dwight was attractive and Nathan wasn't unfamiliar with the concept of sleeping with another man. There had been offers, in his life, and while he'd never taken anyone up on the offers it hadn't been because he found the idea unpleasant.

The last time Nathan had been able to feel he'd lacked the opportunity to do much with it, in spite of Duke's offers to find him a woman to spend some time with.

"I…that is." He tried to swallow around the sudden block in his throat, to order what he wanted (and maybe needed) to say. "I could stay."

"This has the potential to be awkward. More awkward." Dwight amended. "Not that I'm against having company for the night but I'm pretty sure it would fall into the area of 'Using my troubles for personal gain' if I took advantage of the fact that I can 'fix' you."

Nathan hesitated for a moment then decided to, just this once, put all his cards on the table. "I think I would be taking advantage of you, more than the other way around."

This earned him a small smile. "I'm okay with that."

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There was going to be sex here but, alas, I have to go to work. I might have something in a day or two.

Follow up: Someone was kind enough to point out my frequent misspelling of Audrey, for which I am grateful. I get my 'd' 'b' and 'p' messed up a lot, and if not for spell check making sure I have the right letters my writing would be a clusterfuck. Sadly Audrey and Aubrey are both actual names, so it didn't make the catch for me. Alas, it will probably continue to happen.