There isn't enough of these two around! Even though they're so adorable (granted, I think their popularity has been growing after Retrace 42 came out). I know I probably suck at smut, but that isn't what this is about anyway - more of emotions, possibly. Written about the "now that Liam knows his secret, Break should stop being so afraid of stripping naked". Also, I use too much italics. D:
The first time is unexpected (what an understatement) and messy and clumsy - or rather, Liam is clumsy, and nervous, questioning whether or not they should be even doing this or not - probably the latter. Xerxes is a friend, for Christ's sake, a friend who is now on top of him, pressing their bodies together and lips in contact with Liam's. A friend who has knocked his glasses askew, almost making them fall off his nose, whose hair is all he sees, who smells and tastes like surypy sweet tea and candy and deep, dark secrets.
Just a friend, and nothing more - at least, that's how it was. (Should be?)
Liam finds himself wanting to push Xerxes off him, correct things and go back to how it was before, before the kisses and groins inching closer and lust. And at the same time, wanting to pull the other closer, closer and closer, into a hungry kiss, into a fleeting moment of passion. He ends up doing neither, frozen in pure mortification of those thoughts and, evidently, denial.
Apparently, Break notices, since he stops, red eye twinkling with mirth. "My, Mister Liam, you are so awfully tense today", he comments, hips jolting against Liam's, making him first stiffen and then bite his lip and squirm, obviously in discomfort although it feels good. "You should loosen up~"
"X... Xerxes Break, this—"
Out of nowhere comes a finger to rest on his lips. "Sush, Liam." He shivers at the warm breath in his ear. "You think too much."
---
The second time is just as messy and clumsy as the first. But the second time, Liam actually kisses back, awkward, not knowing where to place his hands, unsure how to work his tongue as Xerxes's own slides against his. The second time, Liam actually makes effort to do something, rather than just lie there and let Break do his tricks.
But when he raises his hands to try and unbutton the other's shirt, they are swatted away. He looks up, seeing Break's face as a mere blur: the man has (again) swiped his glasses, but he can see the finger being places on the thin lips, the red eye gleaming. As if giving a warning.
He wants to question this, ask why on earth would anyone want to have his shirt on in a situation like this, but doesn't get the chance to: seconds later, his mind is completely blank save for 'oh, god' and 'oh, Xerxes'.
---
The third time, Liam is still clumsy, and awkward, and he could swear he can feel Xerxes laughing into the kisses, mocking his skills - or rather, the lack of them. But it's not his fault he isn't a natural like the man himself, is it? Liam has had better things to do than practicing kissing, a useless skill he was sure he would never ever need. Apparently, he couldn't have been more wrong.
Break enjoys doing stupid things to make Liam completely breathless or shamefully turned on, or both at the same time, and Liam thinks it's because the man is a freaking sadist and likes seeing him squirm. (Which probably isn't completely off the point.) But there's nothing he can do when Xerxes is on him, suffocating him with kisses until he can no longer breathe and stars sail accross his vision, or when his hips jolt torturously against Liam's, so close but still so far, or when his hot and wet and oh so skilled mouth is working over Liam's lenght, knowing exactly what to do in order to get that exact moan in that exact note out of him.
Yes, Break just knows exactly how to push his buttons.
In the end, it's a little unfair: Xerxes gets to touch him so much, everywhere, anytime, but he will hardly let Liam lay a finger on him. Though most of the time, Liam doesn't even have time to think about where to put his hands, always so inept in his moves, or then Xerxes holds him down. But he has touched, a little, at least tried to, enough to know that Xerxes's skin is indeed just as smooth as it looks, that his snow-white hair is actually rather silky, and that Liam isn't the only one who breaks a sweat during the act.
Bur Break still won't let him go even near his chest, never. And every time Liam asks about it, he dodges the question, counters it with another, os pretends to not hear. And Liam just finds that weird: he wasn't aware the other was that self-conscious.
---
It so happens that Break indeed can't hide his reason forever. Liam would have preferred to find out a little differently, have Xerxes tell him in person: to show that the man actually does trust him, like he should, after so many years spent together. After what they've done.
But he doesn't, and Liam is shocked, so shocked he almost doesn't catch Break as he falls, only managing to stare at the pale face, the closed eye, the bloodstained lips. He barely reacts when his master addresses him.
"Did you know?"
"... no..."
That night is the fourth time - the fourth time, even though nothing happens. Convinced that the four guests have gone back home, to rest, Liam retires to his room to finish some paperwork before going to sleep himself. He's finding it a bit too cold for his tastes without his coat: it's already winter, the first snow is falling behidn the windows, and the fireplace hasn't been lit the entire day. But his coat is with Xerxes now, and Liam doesn't regret a thing: it felt like the appropriate thing to do, and still does. The other needed it more than he.
Needless to say, he jumps three feet to the air as the door of his wardrobe squeaks open (oil the hinges, he would have to) and something - no, someone - steps out.
"Xerxes Br--"
"Do keep your voice down, Liam, or you'll wake the whole house."
Liam swallows his next words, somehow regaining his cool despite his surprise and racing heart. "What are you doing here?"
Break walks over to him, and Liam notices he's gotten changed - naturally. Who would want to walk around in torn clothes, especially if they just happen to expose a certain seal over your heart?
"Funny that you should ask! I came to return your coat." Only then does Liam notice the large black jacket hung over the other's shoulder, and the next thing he knows is that it's shoved to him, with not so much as a smile from Break. Which is, for the lack of better word, unusual.
"Never again step in to take a blow meant for me – I have enough blood in my hands as it is."
Liam doesn't object when Break wants to spend the night. But when he wakes up the next morning (having slept on the couch and letting Xerxes take over the bed), the white-haired man is long gone.
---
The fifth time isn't until after Sablier. Xerxes may be unable to see, yet still he seems to know exactly what to do, where to touch, and makes no unnecessary movements. It's quite fascinating, really, but then again, a lot of things about the man are. In Liam's opinion, anyway, though he isn't sure whether he'd be willing to admit that out loud.
The fifth time, he isn't giving in. The fifth time, he feels there should be enough trust between them. Enough...
So when he reaches out his hands and Xerxes makes a move to bat them away, he is ready, catching that pale wrist. He's horrified at how thin it is: like it could snap as easily as dry wood if he puts even a little more pressure into his already rather loose grip.
Even though Break could easily break the hold, he doesn't, instead choosing to merely arch a brow. His unseeing eye gazes down at Liam, and even though he knows it can't really see, he feels as though it's staring right through him. And he can't help shuddering.
Break must feel it, but he says nothing. Liam hesitantly reaches out again, placing his free hand on the other's chest, over his heart. Over the seal he now knows is hiding under the fabric of that shirt.
Xerxes twitches, yanking his own hand free, to grab Liam's, and Liam can't quite determine how he's supposed to interpret the expression the other is wearing. It's a mixture of so many others, in the end it betrays nothing of how he really does feel.
Before his hand can be pushed away, he speaks. "Xerxes."
The man stops, tensing visibly as Liam raises his other hand, stopping in the position to start unbuttoning the shirt. "Let me take it off."
"And why would you want to do that?" In the oh no you don't kind of tone.
"I understand your wanting to hide it earlier, but now that I already know—" Why does it feel like he's babbling?
"— what I mean is, it would make this feel more... real."
"Real?" Xerxes's lips curl upward in a mocking smile, but he doesn't move away. Instead, he leand closer, and Liam could swear he can see the familiar glow in that eye, the one that was still there a few days ago. The glow of the eye that sees, both the things around him, and the secrets hidden in dark corners. But it is soon gone, the red orb is as dull and unfocused as before, eerie as it looms over him like that, way too close for Liam to feel comfortable.
"Isn't this real enough for you?"
Suddenly, Liam is painfully aware of the pressure of Xerxes's body against his hips and how hot it's making him, but he tries not to think about that. "I– I meant—"
Break shoves his hands away, and somehow, Liam gains some confidence from that. "I don't like seeing it any more than you do, but it's... it's you." He swallows. "Do you really not trust me, Xerxes?"
Break stops. "... I trust you", he replies slowly, but to Liam it only sounds practiced.
"Yet you never told me."
"I was afraid of how you would react." Painfully honest.
"But I don't think any less of you because of that."
Xerxes is quiet, and after a moment of stillness and silence, Liam reaches out once more. And this time, Break doesn't push him away.