So... I was going to break this up into multiple chapters (maybe like two or three), but I decided since I was going to post it all at once anyway that it didn't matter if I just made it a long ass one shot. I suppose this one needs the warning that there is sex and an argument could be made for it to be non consenting (I would respectfully disagree, but for the sake of keeping this short and not ruining part of the story I will leave it at that). Aside from that warning others are the usual with any of my stories, swearing, brief violence and angst.
He had been right there! Right fucking there! Iain had been close enough to see the man's painfully familiar, forest colored eyes, but the damn bar was so loud he couldn't get to the man until after he had gone back outside. He was so tempted to follow Lars outside, but he didn't want to be the reason their friend and Lars' boss Matthias fired the man, having spoken to his ex-lover over the phone and Skype enough times to know he was struggling staying at the bar for his shifts. Matthias had been threatening for months to fire the Dutchman for showing up late or ditching his shifts. There was no way for Iain to know that Lars was heading home, getting off of a shift instead of clocking in for one.
Thinking he had hours to wait for his ex-lover, Iain sat at the bar, ordered himself a shot of Scotch and threw it back with a practiced motion, the burning sensation that flooded through his chest completely welcome. He remembered working there, remembered long nights of breaking up fights, checking ids. Lars and he had been a team then, having the most dysfunctional, functioning relationship in existence. It was comfortable though. Imperfectly beautiful. He sighed heavily at the memories as he raised his hand, signaling for the bar tender, a man he didn't know, to fill the shot glass in front of him. Soon. Yeh'll be back with him soon. He thought to himself, throwing back the second shot and setting the tiny glass on the counter.
Seeing as he wasn't looking to get drunk, Iain turned away from the bar after the second shot and leaned back against it, resting his elbows back behind him as he watched the other bar patrons, idly listening to different fragments of conversation. One man was sitting among his buddies discussing the soccer game going on, while at the table behind him a woman was seductively purring at a flushed, clearly drunk man. He was somewhat intrigued by the woman, finding it impressive that she had so affectively had the man's balls hanging off every word she spoke to him, but he wasn't so far engrossed in his eavesdropping to miss a familiar form sitting down beside him and the booming roar of friendly laughter that soon followed.
"Iain! Matthias greeted, clapping the Scotsman on the back with a massive grin on his face. "It's been too long! I've missed your skinny little ass getting in trouble." He teased, winking at the man as he flagged down the bartender and requested the man to pour a shot for each of them, Iain another scotch and a shot of vodka for himself.
"So. What have you been up to?" Matthias asked, downing his shot and setting the glass on the bar counter, indicating for Iain to do the same before the man spoke.
While Iain wasn't so sure he wanted a third shot, already feeling a comfortable buzz in the back of his head from the first two, he drank it anyway, not one to turn away from a free drink, and if he was drinking with Matthias, that was exactly what the shot was. Free alcohol.
"Nae a whole lot... Came back to find Lars." He mused, rolling the shot glass between his fingers for a moment before setting it down, only to internally grimace as it was filled right back up again. At this rate he wasn't going to want to do much more than sleep whenever he ended up actually talking to Lars and going back home with him...
"Lars?" Matthias said with a frown, looking towards the door before downing his shot and retuning his attention to Iain with a grimace. "He took off half hour ago or so." He said, noting the look of dismay cross Iain's face. With a soft sigh he ran his fingers through his disheveled hair and leaned back against the counter much in the same way Iain did.
"Tell you what. Stay here and drink with me for a bit, then I'll walk you to his new apartment." He offered with a friendly smile that turned into a full blown grin when the Scotsman nodded reluctantly and downed the shot that had been placed in front of him.
For the next hour the two men started talking about what they had been up to in the few years it had been since Iain had split town. Matthias had gotten together with Lukas officially after years of chasing after the calloused Norwegian, while Iain explained he had been sobering up his little brother. He drank another two shots and two beers with that story.
"Yeh shoula seen 'im Matthias..." Iain sighed, glaring broodingly at the bottle of beer that was in his shuddering, unsteady hands. He still hated himself for what had happened to Arthur. It was his fault for leaving the boy in the first place.
"Ah've nae seen 'im like th' way he was... All pierced an' drugged... Twitchin' like some... freak." He slurred, the alcohol mingling with the memories and leaving him rather upset as he took a swig of his beer. "But the worst part... Was..." He trailed off when Matthias cut him off as the Dane slammed his beer down on the counter.
"I wanted to drink with you... Not upset you." Matthias growled, his blue eyes overly bright with the alcohol in his veins. He blinked slowly as if trying to straighten out his vision, but it didn't seem to work and only resulted in him swaying just a bit. Maybe it was time to walk Iain home...
"C'mon. Let me lead you home..." He said, hopping from the bar stool and stumbling a bit when the floor lurched under his feet. He was more intoxicated than he thought... Of course, watch Iain finish his beer and get off his own stool showed he wasn't the worse off of the two. He had seen Iain drink before, and hadn't thought anything of the alcohol he had consumed... He hadn't even thought to consider that the man had already drank something before he had sat beside him.
Had either one of them been logical, the thought to call a cab might have crossed one of their minds, but instead Matthias just lead Iain out the door, both of them running into each other drunkenly as they slowly moved down the street.
While Matthias was perhaps one of the most selfless, friendly people there were, when he got drunk he was notorious for getting aroused, and every time Iain and him ran into each other, every time he caught the scent of the Scotsman alcohol perfumed skin, he got these crazy images of taking the man home with him instead of leading him to Lars' like he promised, but he wasn't quite intoxicated enough to actually do something so horrendous. Iain was his friend! Even if he wasn't that would be rape, and Matthias was no rapist.
It was a stroke of bad luck then that Iain ended up stumbling over his own feet. Matthias reached out and caught the man, but in their heavily impaired state, he missed catching Iain completely, and one of Iain's hands flopped sloppily onto his thigh, causing irrational thrills to roll through him and head straight to his groin.
The action alone wouldn't have been so bad, but in Iain's deliriously drunken state, he smiled lazily and brought the hand that had dragged across his friend's thigh and placed it between his legs, something he never would have done without being as stupidly drunk as he was. He rubbed between the Dane's legs with bleary eyes, not aware in the slightest that what he was doing was completely, and utterly wrong.
"Matthias... Ah think yeh 'av a wee problem." He slurred with a smirking smile, trying to get his eyes to focus on the flushed man that was hungrily pulling him closer. Warning bells should have been going off. Something in his mind should have been saying that Matthias shouldn't be pressing their bodies together in the way that he was, that a hand shouldn't have been groping at his own crotch in return for his sloppy teasing, but he wasn't aware of his own nor that they were wrong, let alone Matthias'.
All the justification for Matthias to continue feeling up his friend came with the Scotsman's body reacting so willingly under his touch. As with Iain, his brain just couldn't quite remind him that what they both were doing was wrong. Not only was Iain looking to go back to the man he came to find, but he himself was happily committed to his relationship with Lukas. Somehow, none of these thoughts crossed his mind, and in a tangle of touchy hands they ended up finding their way back to his little three bedroom house, not Lars' apartment.
He hadn't even made it through the front door before their lips were crushing sloppily together, noses bumping together as their teeth clicked painfully together and saliva was smeared over each other's cheeks and chin. It was startlingly difficult to kiss properly when both he and Iain were seeing triple of everything along with the room spinning dizzily around them. Someone let out a lewd, sinful sounding moan with their intoxicated, messy kiss, but he couldn't seem to figure out if it came from his own lips or the pair he was trying to kiss. It didn't really matter though, not when his head spun with the need to breathe and they broke apart, hands groping heatedly against each other's bodies.
"Yeh taste like a Russian." Iain complained, faintly remembering the way vodka tasted on someone else's lips, but who it was he couldn't quite recall, his brain too fuzzy to grasp the memories.
His comment was rewarded with a savage bite to his neck that left him crying out loudly in pleasure, his body arching up awkwardly against Matthias' as he tried to get closer to the teeth ravaging the skin of his neck, tilting his head as his hands shot up to tangle harshly in the man's hair. He couldn't quite tell if the bite actually felt good like his cry had suggested or if it hurt, but he quickly decided he didn't care all too much, because he was distracted when Matthias' hands were returned to his crotch.
Iain growled something that resembled "yeh ass", the words were too slurred to actually come across as such, as he groped Matthias back, hating being out done when it came to such a thing. His reactions were rewarded with another possibly painful bite, his one to his collarbone, and while neither one of them noticed it, Matthias' teeth actually split open Iain's skin.
"I wouldn't be an ass if you weren't touching me." Matthias grumbled, somehow managing to keep up their mutual groping, his biting and move into his bedroom where his and Lukas' bed rested unoccupied, though they only made it as far as the wall before they couldn't resist pulling each other into another sinfully sloppy, passionate kiss.
He was completely unaware to the fact that his faithful, Norwegian lover was locked away in the bathroom, crying silently to himself. Lukas had heard Matthias come in, had recognized the sounds of him kissing someone. It didn't help the fact that both men absolutely reeked of arousal and alcohol. He was too prideful to try and break up what was quickly unfolding though.
Iain felt his spine start to bruise with how forcefully Matthias pressed him against the wall, and he could help but wrap his legs around the powerful Dane's hips, their hips grinding together in a painfully pleasant fashion as the ravaged each other's mouths, each fighting for control of the overly sensual, imperfect kiss. Matthias wasn't as all out dominating as Lars was...
Lars... Something uncomfortable rolled through Iain's body for a moment, making him lose the advantage he had had over Matthias' lips and a tongue to intrude far inside of his mouth. He couldn't quite place why, but he briefly felt... bad. His simple, drunken mind couldn't think up anything better to describe the feeling that coursed through him at the thought of the man's name. Why would he feel such a thing when...
He moaned low in his throat around the tongue in his mouth when he felt Matthias' fingers dig into the fabric of his shirt and quite literally rip the garment off his body, leaving his chest exposed as it heaved for air in his excited, aroused state. Matthias just seemed to be everywhere all at once, leaving him completely disorientated as he tried to keep up with what was happening.
One minute the Dane was assaulting his mouth, nipping at his lips hard enough to bruise while he stroked the inside of his mouth with his tongue, another minute fingers would be clawing at his back as they tried to force closer to each other, while in yet another minute the same scratching hands would be insistently feathering against the bulge in his pants. He didn't know what he wanted more, nor how to react besides tangling one hand in the Dane's hair, fingers gripping onto the strands harshly, while the other fumbled with stripping the man of his pants. He hated being out done!
Whining in frustration, it took Iain forever to finally get Matthias' pants undone, and when they were he wiggled out of the Dane's tight, bruising hold and down, down, down until his face was level with the man's crotch. With a rather undignified, horridly sloppy movement that took four tries to complete, he pulled the man's pants down, and then his tented boxer shorts, until the man's throbbing length presented itself proudly. He could feel Matthias tremble wantonly with anticipation as he gripped the man's bare hips, attempting to wrap his lips around the appendage in front of his face, yet somehow he just managed to smack his cheek with it instead, the way his eyes were perceiving things being completely off.
"You're pathetic." Matthias sighed, attempting to help guide Iain's seeking mouth to his now twitching length, and while his perception was off as well, they managed to fill Iain's mouth eventually.
Moaning overly loud, Matthias tangled his fingers in Iain's fiery hair and twitched his hips into the man's mouth, unable to help himself as Iain rather sloppily sucked him off, lewd, wet sounds filling the air around them that only made him moan all the louder. As blow jobs went, this one was hardly anything special, Iain didn't suck quite as hard as Lukas would have, he didn't set a proper rhythm to his bobbing, but he did allow Matthias to buck into his mouth, even though the tip of his length rammed against the back of his throat, making the muscles of his esophagus convulse as he gagged. Lukas would never have let the Dane get away with such a thing.
Lukas... As Iain had with Lars, a twinge of something unwelcome and bad feeling rolled through Matthias, leaving him to frown despite the passionate lips that sucked him and the skillful, unruly tongue that licked against him. In a desperate attempt to rid himself of the bad feeling, he gripped Iain's hair all the tighter and rammed into his mouth all the harder, paying no mind to the hands the tightened in discomfort on his hips, not until after he had sprayed his seed inside of Iain's mouth with a groan, and pulled out with a popping sound. Head still lolled back on his shoulders, he lazily looked down at Iain with alcohol and lust glazed eyes that were horribly out of focus. In that moment he didn't realize that it was Iain between his legs and not his little Lukas, but when his eyes did flood with faint recognition a frown spread across his lips.
Iain was dazed and confused with what had happened, realizing he had just given Matthias head but... not remembering why. Why was he there again? Hadn't they been trying to go somewhere else? He stood up dizzily with a frown as he struggled to remember their previous purpose, but seeing as he couldn't even remember five minutes ago he gave up trying with a snort of frustration that quickly turned into a startled squeak as Matthias roughly tossed him onto the bed.
"Iain... I wanna... I wanna fuck you." Matthias slurred in a rather undignified fashion as he crawled on top of his friend and sprawled out across his body, all but crushing Iain underneath of him as he smashed their lips together, teeth clicking against Iain's.
There was something in Iain's head that made him want to push Matthias off of him, but his efforts went from shoving against the Dane's shoulders to get him to stop, to wrapping around him and pulling him down against him as their lips messily pressed together in fierce, bruising ways.
Matthias took Iain's actions of pulling him closer as consent to continue and without further warning he pulled away from Iain's lips and bit down hungrily against his neck in the same painful way as before, leaving a dark bruise on Iain's otherwise perfect, creamy skin. He heard his friend cry out under him, and while the sound was tinged with pain his brain couldn't decipher the difference between that and pleasure, and ended up just biting against him again, once more biting hard enough to break the skin by accident.
Iain's fingers tangled harshly in Matthias hair as he arched up into his body, their hips smashing up against each other painfully, neither one of them quite fitting against the other. The biting hurt... yet the Dane surrounding him with his larger body reminded him of someone else completely. He was disoriented and confused with the alcohol flooding through his veins to the point that even though the biting hurt, even though they didn't fit together at all and his hips were forming the bruises to prove it, he couldn't help but subconsciously compare the Dane to his Dutchman...
He was forced to try and focus again when Matthias tore off his pants and his boxers and he was being flipped over onto his stomach, the rolling action sending his stomach churning dangerously for a moment and his entire world swooping nauseatingly. He buried his face against one of the pillows on Matthias' bed with a groan and a shudder but he ended up letting out a muffled, choked cry as the Dane pressed inside of him without any form of warning or prepping, not going slow, nothing.
Matthias let out a keening moan of ecstasy and dug his nails into Iain's shoulders as he wasted no time in ramming deep inside of his harshly breathing friend, oblivious to the pain he was causing the man beneath him through his alcohol induced daze. All he was concerned about was shooting his hips forward into Iain's tight heat, yet in the position they were in, him on his knees and Iain flat on his stomach, he wasn't quite as satisfied as he could have been.
Iain gasped in pain repeatedly, his teeth clenched around soft little cries of pain and discomfort. He didn't remember sex hurting quite so bad... but the shockwaves jarring his spine and causing his eyes to water spoke otherwise. He tried not to be quite so rigid, but honestly he barely remembered his own name, let alone to relax his muscles. He thought that the man pounding into him was giving him a break when he paused, but then an arm secured around his tense stomach and he felt Matthias' chest pressing forcefully up against his back, their sweat slicked skin sliding against each other as the Dane moved in and out of him with speed that took their breath away, albeit for two completely different reasons. A biting mouth fell onto the back of his neck and his shoulders, nipping and licking and sucking at his otherwise unflawed skin.
The new position did little for Matthias other than give him the ability to pound down into the pale little redhead with a greater amount of power than before. His sweat dampened chest smacked against Iain's back, leaving their skin red from repeatedly slapping together and a groan of frustration in his throat. He never had this problem with his Lukas...
The bad, upset feeling welled in his chest again, leaving him to bite savagely against Iain's shoulder blade with a growl that very nearly sounded grieved and guilty. Not liking the new position any more than the last, he pulled Iain up into his arms, flipped him around to face him mid thrust, and began bouncing the man up and down against his length, barely even recognizing the feel of Iain's arms wrapping around his neck, nor did he hear the squeaks and grunts and gasps of pain slowly changing into moans and keening whines of pained pleasure. He himself was so loud in voicing his own pleasure that he drowned out the sounds of the Scotsman.
Iain's mind plagued him with distorted, fuzzy memories of the very position he was in. His brain could almost trick him into thinking the arms around his waist belonged to his Dutch ex-lover, almost trick him into thinking the teeth that nipped so harshly against his already bruised and slightly bloodied neck belonged to Lars and not Matthias. He rocked down against the Dane just as he would had it been Lars, but the loud cries he was met with were not the low, pleased rumbles he was craving. Why wasn't Lars the one holding him?
The thought made him frown mid pained moan and rest against Matthias' chest, his back end aching and burning, though something was lubricating the Dane's length the harder and faster he slammed in and out of him. Had he been in his right mind and sober, he would have flipped out that the man had torn him open, had made him bleed. Then again, had he been sober in the first place, he and Matthias would never have begun to share a bed. Even in his alcohol induced haze he was tired of the sharp, aching burn caused by Matthias' harsh movements.
"Oie... Would yeh..." But he was cut off with a low, whining moan falling from his own lips as his eyes rolled back in his head for a moment, the pain being over ridden as between rocking himself down and Matthias thrusting up into him the nerves buried deep inside of him were struck. He let out the same whining moan as the Dane struck the same spot again, this time shuddering and sinking his nails into the skin of Matthias' shoulders in response to the shockwaves of pleasure that clawed through every nerve ending in his body. The sound was something he never would have uttered without the alcohol in his veins. The sound would have brought a fierce blush to his cheeks in absolute embarrassment.
Once the nerves were found everything that happened after that was a blur of moans and cries, scratching nails, biting teeth and hard, painfully pleasant thrusts. Their skin was drenched in sweat, hair sticking to the sides of their faces, the back of their necks and their foreheads. A scotch flavored tongue mixed with on that tasted of vodka, pale fingers tangled in damp blonde hair while calloused hands gripped already bruised hips, leaving larger discolorations that were vaguely hand shaped as Matthias slammed Iain down onto him.
Once again it was apparent their bodies were not built for each other. Iain's heart beat far faster than Matthias', while the larger man's breath was faster than the Scot's. They were not in sync with each other, their moans and cries, gasps and keening whines were not at the same time, but just barely over lapping. Matthias' thrusts were too slow for Iain's rocking, for even pained as he was, the Scotsman had a very persistent pace ingrained in his memory and he wasn't able to forget it. Didn't want to forget it...
They were both getting tired as well as desperate to release, the drive to sleep with each other fading as exhaustion set in. All Iain wanted to do was pull off of Matthias to relieve his backend from its bleeding, but every time he remembered it hurt the Dane was ramming against the sweet, sweet nerves deep inside of him. All Matthias wanted was to release and forget about what he was doing, for while drunk, he wasn't nearly as deliriously oblivious as Iain was... He realized as soon as thinking about Lukas that what he was doing was wrong, but didn't have the common sense to just stop.
When heat finally did pool low in Matthias' stomach, he pressed Iain's back against the bed with a frustrated growl and rocked into him with all the strength and power he had left in him. To his surprise Iain's stomach clenched mere seconds before his did and the Scotsman sprayed his seed into the air, the milky liquid spraying against his chest a few heart beats before he filled the man up to the brim, but the orgasm wasn't as fulfilling as he had wanted it to be... because the cry that had fallen from Iain's lips had distinctly rang out as "Lars!".
By the time he collapsed beside Iain, the man was unconscious in sleep and already beginning to snore. The sleeping sound, he faintly remembered Lars telling him, was only something that occurred with a considerable amount of alcohol in Iain's veins. Tears welled up in his eyes when the man snuggled against his chest and he had a hard time justifying wrapping his arms around him after he had pulled the blanket up over the both of them.
What had he just done?
The first thing that registered in Iain's mind the next morning, or rather early afternoon, was the splitting pain in his skull. It felt like the bones that protected his brain were exploding outwards and slamming back together to the time of his heart, leaving him to groan loudly in discomfort. When he started to curl around himself though, he cried even louder, an agonizing pain shooting up the base of his spine that left him breathless. The nausea that soon followed was driven by the pain as much as it was caused by the wicked hangover, and when his stomach heaved he barely had time to lean over the side of the bed to keep from throwing up all over the blanket. From the feel of his back end though, the sheets were already soiled. He cracked his eyes open to look and hissed in discomfort when the light shot shards of pain drilling into his skull, but when he noted not only dried cum on the sheets, but also a considerable amount of blood his eyes shot wide open and he cursed under his breath.
"God damn yeh bastard! Whit made yeh think yeh could tear me to shr..." He stopped his rasping curse as soon as he threw the blankets off of the form that had been next to him and his stomach immediately emptied itself again from the sheer dread that gripped his entire body, leaving him to tremble violently despite the pain that throbbed at both ends. The man sleeping beside him was most definitely not the one he had expected to find. Matthias slept beside him. Not his Lars.
Panic very quickly set in, speeding his heart and his breath until he thought he was drowning. His vision tunneled and he swore something was lodged in his throat, leaving him to grip against his throat, only to pull his hand away as if his skin had burned him when he felt scabs against his fingertips. What the hell had he done?!
With a choked sound he clenched his eyes shut and threw them open again, thinking maybe he'd see something different, and when he didn't he very nearly sobbed. What was the last thing he could remember!? He had gotten to the bar. Seen Lars. Waited for him. Matthias came up to him. Told him Lars went home. Said he'd walk him home after a drink or two... Nothing. He couldn't remember a single damn thing after that save vaguely remembering them talking.
"Nae... Nae nae nae God damn yeh!" He roared in a raspy voice as he glared daggers at Matthias and lashed out with a fist to punch him, only faintly satisfied when the man's noise crunched and he lurched into a sitting position with a roar of pain.
"What the hell was that for?!" Matthias snarled, cupping his gushing nose with a hand as his eyes watered. When he realized Iain was the one glaring at him and not Lukas he grimaced and closed his streaming eyes. "I had hoped that had been a dream..." He muttered, turning away with a shudder.
"Yeh dream about raping people often?! FUCK YEH!" Iain roared lividly, his own voice causing his eyes to water as his head throbbed in protest. "Yeh dinnae have a fucking clue whit this is going to do to him! How can ah go back to him now?!" He demanded, fists balled at his sides as he shakily got to his feet, his legs not happy about having to support his weight. He looked down at his naked form and snarled incoherently when he saw his thighs were stained crimson.
"How the fuck does Lukas put up with yeh?!" He screeched, trembling in livid pain.
Matthias closed his eyes again, hand still cupping his nose. "Damn it Iain we were both drunk! I don't know how this happened any more than you do! Don't... Don't you dare think that you are the only one whose life is going to be fucked up because of this." The Dane hissed, voice pained for entirely different reasons than Iain's. How was he supposed to explain this to Lukas?
Iain shuddered and seemed to crumple in on himself as he wrapped his arms around his waist, angry tears in his eyes. He was being unfair blaming Matthias completely... For all he knew he could have been the one to start it. If they were both as drunk as he was starting to think they had to have been, he could hardly blame the Dane.
"Shit Matthias... We've... We've fucked up..." He whispered, trying to wrap his brain around what had happened and how to fix things. Maybe he could just wait until everything was healed up to go find Lars? Just... Hide what had happened? The sound of someone coughing in the door way sent his head shooting up. His heart sunk when he saw who it was. Poor Matthias... The man in the doorway was red eyes and completely emotionless looking. It was Lukas.
"Good. You both are awake. I suggest you get out of my house Iain. Lars is expecting you at his apartment in an hour. I have the address written down and taped to the door. I'd hate for you to be late. I hope you had fun." The small Norwegian reported in a clipped tone of voice all except for the last word. On the last word he spoke, his voice cracked, revealing just how upset he actually was inside.
Iain's heart sank and his skin took on an ashen appearance as he swayed sickeningly, his panic tripling with Lukas' words. How was he supposed to explain this to Lars? Sure they had been very open about the different one night stands they had had while they were apart, but this was different. He had had every intention on asking the man to be his again, he was so close to his Dutchman that he was within walking distance of him, and he had slept with Matthias instead. This... This time was completely different.
He tried to get dressed as fast as he could, but between his panic, his throbbing head and back side, the nausea in his stomach and Lukas' unnerving stare it took him far longer than it should have to pull the previous day's clothing on and head towards the door, the only thing stopping him from leaving was a soft "wait" from Matthias.
"Use the phone in the kitchen to call a cab... I know the cab driver whose number is on the fridge. Call him, tell him I'll pay him later..." Matthias whispered before gesturing for Iain to leave. When Lukas came into the bed room and slammed the door shut as soon as Iain was cleared from the room, he knew he was in so much trouble...
Iain tried to pretend he didn't hear the livid screaming nor the harsh sobbing that came from the other room as he made the call to the cab driver and walked towards the front door. He had never known Lukas to get so violently upset, but then he supposed anyone in their right mind would get upset. Matthias was probably lucky they had slept together here and not in a place Lars was the one to stumble across them, otherwise the Dane might not have survived the encounter. The thought made him shudder and let out a choked sound of panic and misery. Lars... The man was going to be so hurt...
He frowned as soon as he had made it to the door outside. Bags were packed haphazardly and waited ominously against the wall. Matthias was going to lose Lukas over this... Possibly forever by the number of bags packed by the door. He tore down the note with Lars' address and moved out the door rather quickly, or rather as quickly as his pain riddled, nauseated body could move, deciding he'd rather deal with the agonizing sunlight than have to face those bags.
Besides, as much as he sympathized for Matthias, he had his own things to worry about, mainly what the hell was he supposed to tell Lars? He hardly had time to think it through, because the taxi he had called was waiting for him almost as soon as he had come outside, and there was hardly time to think things over in the bumpy, dirty cab. Apparently Lars' apartment building was only a few blocks away, closer to the bar than the old one had been.
With dread clawing through his heart he mounted the stairs and stopped before the door marked with the same combination of letters and numbers that were written on his piece of paper in messy hand writing. It was like the devil was mocking his pain, because he couldn't even hesitate outside the door.
Lars had been watching for Iain ever since he had gotten off the phone with Lukas. He didn't know what was wrong, just that the Norwegian had reported Iain had gotten himself in trouble. He had tried to ask what was wrong, but the man had just hung up on him, leaving him to pace back and forth in front of his door for the past half an hour or so. Every few paces he'd look through the peep hole on his door, only to curse in frustration when no one was in the hall way, until finally the man he wanted to see was standing there.
He threw the door open and immediately had Iain wrapped in his arms, a massive shudder running through his form, but as quickly as he had hugged the man, he let him go when Iain gasped in pain, eyes instantly worried.
It was as if no time had passed in Lars' world, like nothing could have possibly changed between them... and the realization made Iain tear up faster than anything. He could feel when the man's eyes switched from worried and confused to completely emotionless. The switch was tangible in the very air and it made Iain quake in fear and misery. He was so fucked!
"L-Lars..." He whispered, craving to feel the man's arms around him again. He couldn't just tell him everything was alright? To his utter surprise, instead of the door being slammed in his face, Lars pulled him inside and into his arms gently as he led him to the bathroom. It almost felt like the man was trying not to scare him... And then it hit him. His bruised lips, the scabbed over bite marks, how pained and afraid he knew he looked...
Lars thought he had been raped... and the endless faith the Dutchman had in him made him break down and cry. He truly didn't deserve his Lars... Not even for a second.
"You're alright sweetheart." Lars whispered softly, his forest colored eyes still emotionless as he lifted the smaller, fragile looking man up onto the bathroom counter.
Iain knew him so well he could clearly see the man was angry. He could see how the corners of his eyelids crinkled ever so slightly as he narrowed his eyes, how his eyebrows furrowed just enough to make his face go from passive to stern. The softness to his voice only made Iain cry harder, knowing full well the anger was directed at some assaulter Lars had pictured in his mind; the man would very rarely snap at him if he wasn't the one he was angry at.
He shivered harshly when Lars helped him out of his shirt with overly slow movements, stifling a cry of pain when even the gentleness jarred his aching spine. When the man uttered a quiet, rumbling "sorry", he doubled over, clutching at his skull. It took everything in his power to wait for Lars to open the lid of the toilet before he allowed his churning stomach to heave and empty what little was left in it. He had forgotten how badly his Dutchman's bassy voice hurt to listen to when he was hung over.
Lars didn't say anything again after that as he worked to clean Iain up with a dampened wash cloth. With feather light touches he cleaned the blood and dried spit from the bites on Iain's shoulders and neck, compelled to kiss against the spots as soon as they were clean, as if the loving gesture would magically heal the scabs. His touch made the Scotsman shiver beneath him, but it was only when the man would flinch that he would pull away and wait to continue once he was given some sort of ok.
From the bite marks he moved to clean the questionable substances that were dried on his Iain's stomach, pressing a kiss just above the man's navel as soon as he was finished before pulling away and moving to clean the same dried substance from the corners of Iain's lips.
Always so gentle... So careful... That's just how Lars was and Iain really missed that. He missed how much care the man put into anything and everything he did, especially when it was for Iain. The more Lars worked to clean him up, the heavier his heart felt until he thought it would implode in his chest. He let out a choked, sobbing sound when he felt the Dutchman's hands line up overly careful over the hand shaped bruises at his hips that resulted in an apologetic kiss to the forehead and a whispered apology. This was more than he would ever deserve...
When Lars was satisfied with how Iain looked from the waist up, he helped the man from his pants, showing more than instructing Iain to rest his arms against his shoulders so the man wouldn't lose his balance as he stripped him, before he lifted the now naked man back up onto the counter. As soon as he spotted the blood dried all down Iain's thighs he had to back away and clench his fingers in his own hair to keep from lashing out at something, entire form trembling with anger and grief.
"Lars..." Iain rasped a second time, jade eyes flooded with agony as he stretched out a hand for the man, trembling almost as badly as he was. As much as he was afraid of Lars' anger, he couldn't take the sheer amount of grief that rolled off of his ex-lover. He would rather the man be furious at him than hurting like the way he was, especially because he knew without a doubt the Dutchman was kicking himself for letting his fictitious rape happen.
Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Iain hopped down from the counter, cursing softly as the impact of his feet striking the floor jarred his spine and his head, and closed the short distance between himself and his mourning Dutchman. He refrained from touching the man as he took another deep breath, trying to calm his nerves.
"Ah... Ah have to tell yeh something..." He whispered, holding out a hand as if to cup Lars' cheek before jerking away, jade eyes so dull they looked almost grey. When Lars looked down at him confused he had to fight not to cower, not to shy away. Why had he been so stupid?!
He could feel Lars' confusion only growing the longer he stood there, quaking in the silence. The man's eyes silently asked for him to continue, begging to know what bothered him so much. He could feel the worry build inside of Lars' chest as if it was his own, and very nearly lost his courage when the man's fingers gently brushed away a few stray tears running down his cheeks. He needed to know the truth...
"Ah... Darlin'..." He trailed off again in frustration as a sound of distress bubbled up in his throat, causing Lars to wrap his arms around him and gently hush him. This only brought agonized tears to his eyes and he buried his face against the Dutchman's neck to try and hide them, his cold nose tip digging against the warm, sensitive skin. He breathed in the long missed scent of his Lars in great breaths, not knowing when he'd have the opportunity to be held the way he was again. Stop being a coward! He scolded, keeping his face against the man's neck.
"Lars ah... Ah slept with Matthias last night..." Iain finally whispered, shuddering when he felt Lars immediately tense around him and pull away, looking as though he had been kicked in the stomach. He watched in horror as his ex-lovers calm, perfect face twisted just so into a mask of agony. He could see Lars' jaw clench and his throat convulse as he swallowed thickly, see the corners of his lips pull down just barely with a quiver, but most importantly he could see the light die from the man's forest colored eyes, leaving him to look absolutely miserable.
Silence.
"We... Ah... Ah was looking for yeh and... And we got drunk..." Iain attempted to explain, panic clear in his voice as Lars seemed to completely shut down before his eyes, going utterly unresponsive to anything. His heart shattered in his chest. His poor, perfect Lars looked so crushed...
Lars was heartbroken. There was no other way to describe the pain that gripped the shattered, mangled remains of his heart, no other way to explain why it suddenly hurt to have Iain in the same room as him. All of the pain, the blood... That had all been voluntary? He had been mere blocks, not even two miles from him... Iain had been right there and he had slept with someone else... With Matthias of all people?
Suddenly it all made sense. Lukas calling him and saying Iain had gotten himself in trouble, the way Iain shied away from him looking guilty, the man's head ache. He was hung over, guilty and fucked by one of their friends.
"So what. Is your plan to sleep with Matthias on the weekends? Did you and he plan this great trade off? He'd get you and I'd get Lukas?! What's the point of even coming to me? I clearly wasn't the one on your mind last night. I've only waited for you to come back for years, you could have at least had the damn decency to say you changed your mind." Lars hissed, keeping his voice quiet so it was less likely to break.
He ignored the hurt on Iain's face as he haphazardly threw the soiled washcloth at the tub and spun around, heading out the door despite Iain's cries of "Wait!" and "Don't go!" He didn't stop moving until after he was out of his apartment entirely, having to fight not to slam the door so as not to disturb his neighbors. He had thought Iain had missed and needed him as much as he needed and missed Iain...
"LARS!" Iain wailed raggedly as he watched the man leave entirely, tears streaming relentlessly down his cheeks as he quaked with sobs that tore violently from his chest. He had expected anger! He had expected yelling and screaming. Something. Anything! Why couldn't Lars just shout at him? Tell him he had fucked up? Tell him how damn stupid he had been... Why did he have to just leave like that? Iain didn't even get a chance to explain...
With an inhuman cry of grief Iain lashed out his fist at the mirror in the bathroom, blind with an agony neither his head nor his backside could compare with. He was almost relieved when the entire length of his arm jarred with the impact from his wrist to his shoulder. The punch was perfectly in line, perfectly executed, the only thing that ruined it was a shrnk sound from the splinting glass of the mirror and jagged bits of the reflective surface embedded into the flesh between his knuckles, leaving his hand to drip with blood as he dropped it uselessly back at his side. What was one more pain among all the others anyway?
Shuddering, he flicked his dull eyes up to stared at his bruised, bitten form in the shattered mirror, tears streaming down his too pale cheeks as he told himself over and over that Lars would come back, that the man would give him a chance to explain what little he remembered. He tried to piece the story together in his mind, to sort through the shattered fragments of memory, but it was impossible to piece the previous night together.
The longer he stared at the broken, fragmented mirror before him, the more it set in that Lars wasn't coming back any time soon. He had broken one of the only people that still cared about him... He most fucked up part was he didn't even know how it happened. He didn't have any desire to sleep with Matthias damn it! He never had any desire to either! In a fit of irrationality and intoxication he had destroyed the only person that actually put up with him because he wanted to not because he had to.
The more he stared at that damn mirror the more upset he got with it being broken and he tried desperately to piece the fallen pieces back into the shattered puzzle, slicing open the tips of his fingers in his haste to try and force the mirror back together. With a frustrated, hysterical sob he tried to scrunch the jagged bits together, even going so far as to fish the pieces embedded into his hand out. Why wouldn't it fix?! Why couldn't he fix it?! He hadn't meant to break it!
"Go back together damn yeh!" He snarled in pointless anger after he had finally fit the pieces back together but the mirror as a whole stayed broken. There was nothing he could do though... He couldn't make a mirror pull itself back together.
"Why don't yeh want to even try?! Yer nae even TRYING to fix things!" He cried, repeatedly slamming his fists into the already broken mirror until his hands were cut to hell and the wall around the mirror, the counter, the bits of reflective glass themselves, everything close by was splattered with the crimson fluid. He didn't know if his words to the mirror were directed at himself for not running after Lars, or the absent man for not even attempting to understand.
Entire form trembling he leaned against the counter, oozing hands on either corner as he hung his head, tears mixing with the shattered bits of mirror and blood that already resided in the sink. He had messed up...
"Ah'm sorry... Lars ah'm sorry!" He whispered, before his sobs made it impossible for him to speak.
Lars realized he had walked out of his own apartment only after he was situated inside of his truck and began to drive somewhere else. He was just turning off the block when it hit him and for a while he just drove aimlessly, not sure where to retreat to. In a way, it was a good thing... The aimlessness of driving gave him something repetitive to focus on, but not quite enough to distract him from Iain, forcing him to think things through as best as he could in his hurting state.
Iain had slept with Matthias because he had gotten drunk. It sounded so cruel... But maybe that wasn't the whole story? Maybe… Maybe? So he was floundering a bit, trying to grasp onto fleeting "what if's" as if they were life lines, he was desperate to come up with something, anything to explain what had happened. He wanted so badly to find a way for it not to be Iain's fault, but regardless of what he concocted it all came back to "Well he did drink the alcohol."
Frustrated and finding himself dangerously close to tears he sped down E19 and over the Belgian border without a second thought, not even entirely realizing where he was heading until after he was already pulled up in front of her house. For a while he just sat in his truck, debating on whether or not to turn off the engine an go up to the door or not... It had been months since he had been here last and while their time of comfort sex partners had been brief after he cut it off, realizing he just could do that to Iain even if they had both agreed one night stands and even relationships were ok while they were so far apart, Rowan was still a good friend... Still... He should have called her to ask if it was ok that he crashed her house.
With a sigh of defeat he turned off his truck and opened the door, hesitating only a second before climbing out and closing the door behind him. If it was a bad time she could just tell him to go back home and he'd find a different way to escape from Iain. Keeping that thought in mind he moved up towards her door and knocked, having to wait all of three seconds before the green eyed, blonde haired, possibly pregnant Dutch woman was opening it and throwing her arms around his neck, squealing in delight.
"Lars! Honey it's been so long!" She laughed, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek and all but pulling him over in her haste to get him inside. She adored Lars. Simply adored him.
While Rowan didn't know him nearly as well as Iain did, she knew him well enough to see something was bothering him and he was immediately led to the couch, told to "sit tight" and was left alone as the slightly off balance woman made her way into the kitchen and returned with a beer and a soda. So she was pregnant. At least one of them appeared to be in a happy relationship.
As soon as she had handed him his beer she sat down beside him and leaned against his side, resting her head down against his chest with a soft hum.
"Alright sweet pea. It's not like you to make a two and half hour drive unannounced. Spill." Rowan demanded, her friendliness something of a trap, both natural for her and an attempt to get Lars comfortable enough to tell her what was wrong. That had never been something he was good at.
With a sigh, Lars draped an arm around the woman's shoulders and took a drink of his beer with the other hand as he thought over how to present his problem. There were things even he hadn't managed to sort through yet, but that was why he was there wasn't it?
"You remember me telling you about Iain?" He began, only to stop with an incredulous look on his face when Rowan giggled against his side. "What?!"
"'Do you know Iain'" Rowan mocked with another giggle, making her voice lower than usual to try and mimic Lars' bassy rumble. "What don't I know about Iain? You talk about him all the time honey." When Lars just gave her a look, she rolled her eyes and smacked his chest lightly.
"Alright. If you don't believe me... Let's see... He's maybe 5'9" because you say you can rest your chin on top of his head without stooping and I'm 5'7", you're 6'1". He has green eyes that sparkle when he's doing something he thinks will make you smile or laugh. I believe..." She trailed off with a thoughtful look, her own eyes twinkling teasingly as she looked at Lars.
"I believe the exact word you've used is jade? What else... He has bright red hair that is the softest thing you've ever felt and your favorite thing to do is run your fingers through it. He wears a cross around his neck his dad gave him, but you are always too nervous to ask him about his dad because it upsets him and he shuts down." She continued, sipping thoughtfully at her soda. She knew Iain so well she was almost positive she could pick him out in a crowd without ever having even met him.
"I get it Ro. I get it. You know who Iain is." Lars sighed, the teasing banter doing very little to make him feel any better even though he knew that was her goal. She seemed to notice because she sighed dramatically against his chest and shook her head.
"Are you sure? I think there are other things I know about him. He speaks Gaelic to himself when he is seriously concentrating on something, well butcher speaking Dutch to you when you are clearly upset, though how he knows when you are upset baffles me because I have the hardest time even telling when you are happy. He has four brothers that he absolutely adores but he has some issues with one of them who screams and yells and picks fights with him every time they are in the same room together. Then there is another one that ran away and got himself in a lot of trouble and that's why he left in the first place and I suppose you are going to tell me that the problem now is you missing him?" She guessed with a friendly smile as she gently rested a hand against his face to get him to look at her. When he didn't turn his eyes to her though she frowned slowly.
"No... I wish it was just me missing him..." Lars rasped, her teasing having the opposite effect. Why couldn't it just be him missing his Scotsman? He would take the aching loneliness over the pain in his heart any day.
To Rowan's credit, she didn't speak or pry after that. Instead she waited for Lars to open up to her as she cuddled just a little closer to his side and ran one of her hands against his arm. Oh God... Don't let that man be sick... Please don't let him be sick... That will kill my son's father... My Lars... She thought as she sat in tense silence, waiting for the man to continue speaking.
"Iain got into town last night... Went to the bar apparently and met up with Matthias..." Lars began, trying hard to fight off the trembles that had set into his frame. He knew this was why he had come to Rowan in the first place, to vent and try to figure out what to do, but know that he was actually trying to tell her what happened he found the words were sticking in his throat. It was stupid... but he didn't want her to think badly of his Iain even if the man deserved her possible disapproval.
"Well... The damn bastard decides to get drunk with the Dane... and wakes up this morning in his bed." He sighed, resting his head back on the back of the couch as he closed his eyes and breathed out noisily before glaring up at her ceiling, feeling stubborn tears well in his eyes.
"You should have seen him Ro... He looked like a fucking rape victim! Matthias bit the holy hell out of his neck. I don't know how many I cleaned up and found scabbed ov-"
"He bit him hard enough to bleed?" Rowan asked incredulously, her voice going high and sharp with indignation. "Matthias. Matthias Kohler Matthias? The Matthias that nearly got arrested for beating the shit out of that one guy for touching all up on me Matthias? Our Matthias?" She demanded, looking completely stunned when Lars nodded.
"The bites weren't even the worst part. I about put another hole through my wall when I saw the dried blood on his legs... Matthias had to have taken him dry... I don't know what the hell he was thinking. Iain is bigger than Lukas sure, but not that much bigger..." He whispered miserably, sounding terribly upset.
"Well then he decides to tell me that he slept with Matthias..." He sighed, the tears rolling down his temples as he kept his head tilted towards the ceiling, not even bothering to try and control his trembling. What was the point? Rowan would be able to see the tears at the corners of his eyes and know he was upset.
"And you slept with me three months ago getting yourself drunk as hell but you don't see him getting upset." Rowan reminded, though realizing her words sounded a bit harsh and unsympathetic she sighed and hung her head. "It isn't the first time he's slept with someone besides you sweet pea." She pointed out gently, running her hand across his chest a second before laying her head down against his shoulder.
"That's not the point, and he did get upset about me sleeping with you once I told him, that's one of the reasons I said just friends after that." Lars shot back in frustration. It was the truth though. Iain had gotten upset even if he probably wouldn't admit it.
"Even if he hadn't gotten upset, this is hardly the same... When I slept with you I wasn't a mile and a half from his house... If I had been, I would have been with him." He sighed, not meaning his words in a bad, harmful way. "He was right there... Right there! He could have called me! I would have picked him up, pumped him full of water and sent him to bed, not fucked him until he bled damn it! He does the stupidest shit when he's drunk beyond reason..."
"If he does stupid shit when he's drunk, how do you know he meant to go home with Matthias?" Rowan asked thoughtfully, rolling her eyes when she was meat with an unhappy, incredulous stare. "You know that there was alcohol involved on both ends. What if, being as drunk as he was, he honestly just made a mistake? Are you going to let an accident destroy the relationship and love you have with him?" She demanded, looking back at the man unblinkingly.
"He usually knows not to drink that much unless he's trying to get that drunk. If he was planning on finding me like he said, why would he waste time getting so drunk that he was deliriously disoriented enough to not know the difference between me and Matthias?" Lars snapped, truly wanting to give Iain the benefit of the doubt but finding too many loose ends that didn't fit together.
"Lars. Honey. I'm not saying he thought you were Matthias... but if he was seriously drunk, and Matthias was seriously drunk... you and I both know Matthias starts thinking with his "little friend" as soon as he's had a couple of beers!" Rowan reminded calmly, starting to think that maybe Lars had reacted too quickly with his heart this time, not giving his head enough times to think things through.
"There is a reason the police still count it as rape if someone sober takes advantage of someone that is drunk... Consent doesn't count for shit if it isn't given under clear thinking..." She continued, sitting up on the couch and pressing a kiss to his forehead before patting his cheek and getting up from the couch.
"If you want my suggestion..." She began as she walked into her kitchen to throw her soda can away, not resuming her train of thought until she was standing back in the living room. She smiled when she saw his eyes were following her movements instead of staring at the ceiling as they had been for the majority of the conversation. "I'd tell you drink a bottle of water to balance out your beer, drive your behemoth to the nearest gas station and fill her up, go to the store and buy a good bottle of scotch and a pack of cigarettes, then drive your ass home and talk things over with him." She instructed, holding out her hand to help him to his feet with a sympathetic smile on her face.
"Trust me. You don't want to lose him over something you don't even know the full story to sweet pea." She sighed, stretching up on her tip toes to kiss his cheek just as she had to greet him.
Once Lars was standing, Rowan took the empty beer bottle from his hand and disappeared back into the kitchen, reappearing a few seconds later with a bottle of water that she tossed at his head. Catching it easily he nodded his thanks and sighed as he opened it and drank a few gulps.
"Do you think I can figure this out Ro?" He asked after a moment, the first words he had spoken since she started telling him what to do. He was reassured when she smiled up at him and nodded, her hand resting on the doorknob to the front door.
"Lars. If you love him as much as you look and talk and act like you do, you'll figure it out and you both will resume your happy lives together." Rowan promised, brushing some of her hair out of her eyes when she looked up at him before opening the door and pushing him away, unsurprised to find it was after dark, though the sun hadn't been gone from the sky long. The moon had yet to rise.
A bit reassured and maybe even a little optimistic, Lars walked back to this truck pausing only to turn and wave good bye at the woman who still stood in her doorway.
"Go home and call me to tell me how it went in the morning." Rowan called just before Lars could shut his door as he climbed into his truck. She didn't go back inside until he had started the truck's engine and pulled away from the front of her house, feeling hopeful for him. He would figure it out.
Good luck sweet pea. Your Iain is a lucky man...
By the time Lars made it back to his apartment it was past ten, not necessarily late, but late enough there was no one around his apartment save the landlord who was walking his yippy little headache. While on any other day he might have gone over to intentionally intimidate the rat in a dog costume, he just ignored them in favor of climbing up the stairs and walking towards his door, a bag containing Scotch and cigarettes in his hand.
It didn't occur to him until he had pulled his keys from his pocket to unlock the door that Iain might not still be in his apartment. The man might have gone somewhere else to stay, but somehow he doubted it. He knew Iain, even if the man thought he had fucked up beyond repair he wouldn't leave without trying to tell him the whole story, without trying to get him to understand.
Sighing, he opened the door and moved inside, unable to help the small, relieved smile form on his face when he heard his shower running. Just as he had though, Iain had stayed. Deciding it was best he was as calm as possible when the man was finished bathing, he set the bag he had been carrying down on the table and sat down on the couch, fishing his pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He pressed the cancerous stick between his lips and lit it with practiced ease, allowing the smoke to sooth his steadily building nerves and anxiety. It wouldn't help the situation at all if he was too shut down to try and listen.
For a moment, he thought that Iain wasn't going to get out of the shower, when after more than half an hour the water was still running, but just when he had decided he better go and check on the man to make sure he was alright, he heard the water shut off and the soft, but very distinct sounds of his ex-lovers crying.
Iain knew he was being stupid, staying in Lars' apartment, the look on the man's face when he had left enough to tell him he wasn't going to be forgiven, but he couldn't bring himself to leave without trying to explain again. Lars had to come back to his home eventually. All of his things were there, everything he cared about.
He sniffled as he stepped out of the shower, smelling strongly of Lars' various soaps, and wrapped himself up in one of the massive navy colored towels hanging up on the towel rack. Maybe he would just go sleep... At least in sleep he had the possibility of dreaming of his Lars being happy, them being together... With that idea he stepped over the edge of the tub, rustling the shower curtain by accident. The sound made him jump.
"Look at yeh... Jumping at yer own shadow. Yer own noises." He scoffed to himself in a watery, tearful voice as he shuddered and moved towards the door. He was exceedingly careful to keep his eyes averted from the mirror, fixing them instead on the floor. There was no desire left to torture himself by staring at his shattered reflection, and there was the broken reflective glass on the floor he had to worry about stepping on.
By the time he had made it to the door he was shivering, both from cold and the force of his misery and for a second his face crumpled and tears ran down his cheeks, legs very nearly losing the ability to stand. His sadness had been coming and going in waves for hours, leaving him to fluctuate between laying curled around himself as he sobbed and so emotionally dead he didn't recognize his own face if he happened to catch his reflection off of something. How had Lars not been able to see how utterly sorry he was for what he had done to him?
"Ah'm so fuckin' sorry..." He whispered brokenly, forcing himself to open the door, still wrapped in the towel, so he could go lay down on the man's bed. He made it all of two steps when the smell of fresh cigarette smoke hit his nose.
Feeling a strange mixture dread and uncertainty flood through his stomach, he moved to stand in the door way of Lars' bedroom, peeking around the corner until he could see the back of the man's head from where it rested against the back of the couch, hair spiked up the way it always was. How strange... When Lars had left his soft blonde hair had hung down in his eyes. Shivering, he moved forward hesitantly, his desperation to get the man to listen to him warring with his fear of driving him away for good.
Lars was unaware of the fact that Iain crept towards him as he smoked his cigarette, lost in a daze as he thought over what Rowan had told him. He had been stupid, jumping to conclusions and leaving the way he had. Just because Iain said he had slept with Matthias didn't mean he had wanted to, nor that he had meant to, and he already knew Iain had drank the night before. Why else would he have had a hangover so bad the sound of his voice had caused the man to throw up?
In the midst of his musing, when Iain appeared in the corner of his eyes he jumped about a foot in the air, dropping his mostly smoked cigarette to the floor where he quickly stomped it out before it could singe the carpet too badly. He took a moment to recover from his start before he calmly looked up at the still dripping Scotsman that stood in front of the couch with miserable looking eyes and patted the space beside him.
"Let's talk." He said, fighting to keep his previous hurt out of his voice as he kept his eyes fixed on the man's towel clad form. When Iain looked reluctant to sit down, he fished his pack of cigarettes from his pocket and held them up as a peace offering, the unopened packs he had purchased too far away for him to reach. "I promise not to yell."
Iain still looked more than a little reluctant as he slowly brought his dull eyes up to search Lars' face for any sign of hatred or malice to suggest otherwise. It was only once he was convinced the man wasn't mad at him that he sat down, even if the deep set sadness in his ex-lover's eyes physically pained him to see. Lars was at least willing to talk with him... Maybe the damage he had done wasn't as irreversible as he had thought.
With teary eyes, and a soft sniffle he reached out and took the offered peace offering into his hands, withdrew one of the cigarettes, and moved to put it between his lips before looking hesitantly up at Lars. With a tiny, shaky smile, eyes just barely peeking up at the man through his lashes, he held out the cancerous smoke to the man, seeing as he had caused Lars to drop the one he had been smoking. As soon as the man took the cigarette from him, he dropped his eyes and retrieved his own, staying silent even after they had both lit their respective smokes.
Lars was patient. He felt no need to try and force Iain to speak before the man was ready, even though he desperately wanted to know the truth of what happened. He wasn't exactly content to sit in silence and smoke his cigarette, but there wasn't an option to do much else. If he so much as got up to go into another room it would more than likely upset the man beside him.
The longer the silence continued, the more uncomfortable it grew, leaving them both to shuffle uncomfortably every couple of minutes or so until finally, after they had managed to finish of Lars' opened pack of cigarettes, Iain sighed and looked up at the ceiling with a shudder.
"Ah'll tell yeh whit happened... but yeh have to promise me that yeh won't get up and leave and that yeh won't interrupt." He whispered quietly, bringing up the cigarette between his fingers to his lips only to pause, as if thinking over whether or not he actually wanted to take a drag of the thing before bringing his hand back down to rest in his lap, the smoke never touching his lips.
Instead of answering verbally, Lars answered with a nod as he promised to listen. His forest colored eyes painfully neutral as he looked at Iain, waiting for him to speak as he blew smoke from his nose, the pale grey wisps curling up around his face. The little clouds danced happily, a strange contrast to the tension and grief surging about in the room.
While the nod hadn't exactly been the promise Iain had been looking for, it worked well enough. He kept his eyes fixed firmly on just about anything and everything but Lars as he worked up the courage to explain himself. It was hard to get a grip with his heart pounding loud enough he swore the silent man beside him could hear, and his thoughts racing almost as fast..
"Ah got into town yesterday and went looking for yeh at yer apartment. The old one. Ah had forgot that yeh said yeh had moved." He began, voice terribly shaky as he fought to keep it together. Lars had promised not to yell when he sat down.
"When ah couldn't find yeh ah went to the bar and looked around for yeh inside. By the time ah saw yeh, yeh were heading back outside and... Well yeh've been saying Matthias'..." He flinched when Lars tensed up at the mention of the Dane. Hesitantly, he looked up long enough to see the anger and hurt explode in the man's eyes before quickly looking away again and continuing. "... been getting on yer case and ah didn't want to get yeh in trouble with the bastard so ah stayed inside, sat at the bar, ordered two shots of Scotch and planned on waiting for yeh, not realizing yeh had already gone home..."
Lars looked serious and contemplative as he listened, a question popping into his head though he refrained from asking it at the last second when he remembered his promise to be silent.
"Whit were yeh going to say?" Iain asked, noting the hesitancy on the man's face when he stopped himself from saying whatever it was he wanted.
"I was going to ask why you were so hung over when you showed up here, but I'm going to just assume you'll get to that point." Lars said, shaking his head as he spoke as if the action cancelled out his would be question. With a curious expression he returned his eyes to Iain and gestured for him to continue, not seeing how this all lead to the man being brutally fucked at his Danish employer's house.
Iain laughed humorlessly at the statement and nodded, rubbing against his temples as he slowly met Lars' eyes, searching his face to try and tell what the man was feeling, but either he was out of practice at reading his ex-lover or the man was really as neutral feeling as he appeared because aside from a slight hurt and an even slighter anger, he couldn't see anything else.
"Aye. Ah was getting to that part." He agreed, his words slowly starting to level out, not sounding quite as shaky as they had when he started. Telling the story wasn't so bad with Lars listening so intently...
"Ah was at the bar, listening to people talk when Matthias came over to me and ordered me another shot for whitever reason. We started talking, he told me yeh had gone home, but he promised if ah stayed around a bit and drank with him that he'd take me here to yeh. So ah nodded, downed the shot he had ordered. We talked, he continued ordering, ah continued drinking... Ah think at one point we started talking about Arthur? Ah don't really remember..." He sighed, closing his eyes in an attempt to make sense of the snippets of blurred, out of focus memories from the night before.
"Ah don't really remember whit happened next. Ah know that we were walking somewhere, and then it skips to being in his house... Ah remember pain. Ah remember..." He trailed off as a sad, wobbly smile formed on his lips, tears falling slowly from his eyes. There was so much emotion lodged in his throat he had to cough to clear it away enough to speak again. "Ah remember thinking he was so much louder than yeh... and Ah remember wondering why it was Matthias and not yeh." He jumped when he felt an arm slowly hooking around his waist and blinked his watery eyes open in surprise.
Lars hated seeing Iain cry. He always had. This time was no different, and no matter what had happened, he loved Iain too much to let him suffer alone. Staying silent like he had promised, he pulled the quaking, softly sobbing man into his arms, allowing Iain the right to curl against his chest and cry for a moment.
The more he listened the more he was able to understand, and while it had been Iain's fault for drinking as much as he apparently had, how could he blame him for sleeping with Matthias when he had no idea what he was doing? And just like that a dark, brooding anger slowly began to curl in his eyes, leaving him to clench his jaw and tighten his arms around Iain. Come to think of it, how could he not blame Matthias for taking advantage of his Iain? Suddenly his original thought of the man being raped didn't seem so far off.
"What happened next sweetheart?" He asked, voice deceptively soft as he fought to control the overwhelming rage that made his form tremble.
Iain swallowed hard and shook himself when he felt Lars quake around him, immediately recognizing the man's anger with the way his voice was so painfully soft and silky smooth. The only thing that kept him where he was and that gave him the will to continue speaking was the possessive way the Dutchman held him and the use of the familiar pet name.
"Well, ah suppose we continued..." He began with a small shrug as he buried his face against Lars' neck, craving the man's warmth as it soaked into his too cold, towel clad body. "Ah really don't remember much until after ah woke up this morning, angry with yeh for how bad mah ass hurt only to find out it wasn't yeh at all..." He whispered, biting his lip as he attempted to look up at the man while keeping his head against his shoulder.
"After that, Lukas came in, told me he'd called yeh and to get out. Matthias told me to call a taxi, ah had to listen to Lukas scream at Matthias and walk past a set of packed bags, got picked up, taken here... and yeh know pretty much whit happened after that." He finished quietly, begging silently for the man to believe him, to still be loved by one of the few people he actually still cared about.
When he couldn't take Lars' contemplative, quaking silence, he released a soft, choked sob that had been caught in his throat and shakily moved away from his ex-lover enough to fix him with his desperate eyes.
"Do yeh still love me?" He whispered, terrified to know the answer. When Lars looked startled by the question, he felt the faintest trace of hope cause his heart to flutter.
In answer, Lars hooked a finger underneath Iain's chin, tilted the man's head up and kissed him slowly. The kiss tasted of all of Iain's hurt and self-loathing and all of Lars' anger and understanding. By the time he released the shakily smiling, relieved looking Scotsman's lips, they were both panting softly.
"What kind of question is that?" Lars demanded with a raised eyebrow, eyes serious. "You messed up drinking as much as you did, I'll give you that much but you've drunk that much before and more and nothing ever happened except me taking you home, or you passing out for a night a bar. It's not your fault that Matthias," He snarled the name, "took advantage of you. Hell, Iain you don't even sound like you knew it was him instead of me for half of that!" He ranted, eyes flashing again as he hugged the man tightly once more.
Iain was quiet for a long time, his fingers clutching at Lars' shirt as he shivered from the anger in his ex-lover's voice. The man must have mistaken his shiver as o brought on by cold because before he had even stopped shaking Lars had lifted him up into his arms and gotten to his feet.
He wasn't given the option to put clothing on before he was set down on the Dutchmen's bed and Lars was laying down with him, curling around him just as he had every time they had laid down to sleep in the past, not that he particularly minded being naked. With a soft sigh, he pressed up against the man's chest as blankets were drawn up around the both of them, encompassing him completely in warmth.
"Try not to be so angry with him darlin'..." He whispered after a long moment of resting in the man's arms, reaching up and cupping his cheek with a hand.
Lars merely grumbled something incoherent as he pressed his face into the hand at his cheek for a moment, and then took the same hand in one of his hands and brought it to his lips, kissing Iain's palm with a soft sigh that quickly turned into a sharp intake of breath through his nose as he caught sight of the cuts all across the man' knuckles.
"What happened?" He asked in a voice softer than a whisper, lips brushing feather soft against the gashes as if his touch alone would heal them over. When Iain blushed and looked away guiltily, he frowned in confusion and allowed the hand in his grasp to be pulled away. "Iain?" He questioned.
"It was stupid..." Iain muttered, biting his lip as he thought about the shattered mirror in his Lars' bathroom. As he peeked up to see the confusion and concern in the man's eyes, he sighed and shook his head, pressing his face against his neck. Despite the guilty blush on his face, when Lars cursed under his breath and just barely flinched at the touch before settling again.
"Your nose is cold." Lars protested, though the touch didn't actually bother him. While he would never admit it, he had actually really missed feeling Iain's icy nose tip press against the warm, sensitive skin of his neck. Realizing that Iain had effectively distracted him, he rolled his eyes and laughed quietly.
"You still have to answer the question sweetheart." He chided gently, pressing a kiss to the top of the man's head.
Iain really had no desire to explain his hysterical fit to the Dutchman; Lars would figure it out as soon as he stepped into the bathroom. With a soft hum, he kissed up the man's neck instead, only to make a strangled sound when Lars turned and bit warningly down on his shoulder.
"Damn it Iain no. Even if you weren't trying to distract me I am not going to let you kiss against my neck because then we'll both become horny as fuck and I am not going to have sex with you until you have a chance to heal." Lars said firmly, eyes leaving no room for question or protest, not that Iain wouldn't try.
Surprisingly enough though, Iain just muttered under his breath and returned to laying nicely. As much as he wanted to protest, his entire back end still ached something fierce and while he knew without a doubt that Lars would be careful with him, at least until he didn't feel any pain, that being pounded into the bed wouldn't be fun for him for at least a few days. Besides, he was having a hard time keeping his eyes open with Lars wrapped around him the way he was.
"Alright Iain. You win for now. You can tell me in the morning." Lars sighed as he watched Iain's eyes flutter, and despite his previous words, pressed his lips once to his sleepy Scotsman's neck. He was more than amused when the man was asleep in his arms within minutes.
Two day, a new mirror, and a few rants later, Lars found himself storming furiously towards Matthias' bar, forest eyes flashing and trench coat whipping out behind him in the speed with which he walked. Iain had been asking for him to forget about it, and usually he did a good job of blocking what had happened from his memory, but every time he caught sight of the scabbed over, healing bite marks that marred his lover's frame his anger built that much more.
As soon as he stepped foot inside of the bar and tension filled the air around him, the normal chatter quieted down into quiet whispers, many instinctively intimidated by the furious, muscular man, even if they hadn't a clue on what angered him so badly. The change in the ambiance was what alerted Matthias that something was wrong, automatically knowing Lars had come for him even before he had caught sight of the man. There were only two people with the kind of power to silence his bar, Iain's crazy, Irish brother and Lars, and seeing as there wasn't furiously spat Gaelic, it wasn't hard to guess who it was.
The Dane knew it was dangerous to keep his back turned to Lars, pretending to wipe off already dry, clean glasses. Ignoring the man would only make him that much angrier after all, but he had no desire to argue with the Dutchman in the middle of his bar.
"If you must talk to me, go out around the back. I will not cause a scene in my own workplace." He hissed lowly, still not turning around, and while he received some snarled, livid sounding threat in Dutch, he kept his head high and confident. It wasn't until after he had felt the overwhelming tension leave the room again, and conversations, though uneasy sounding, resumed that he turned back around, coming face to face with a regular who was looking at him with concern.
"What did you do to piss Lars off Matthias? I would not want to have to deal with that man's anger. Believe me." The balding, bright eyed man said, nodding in thanks as Matthias set down a glass of ice, a bottle of rum and a can of Coke in front of him.
Matthias laughed humorously and threaded his fingers through his disheveled, blonde hair with a groan, eyeing the older man with a rueful smile.
"Oh believe me... I don't want to face him either. Why don't I drink your alcohol for you and you go talk to him for me? Tell him I am busy?" He joked, only whishing such a thing would work. He couldn't quiet blame the man for being so angry, but he had already lost Lukas. Did he really need to lose two of his friends as well?
"Not a chance in Hell." The man laughed, reaching across the bar counter to clap Matthias' shoulder with his hand. "You go try to deal with that, I'll watch the bar for you so no one steals your booze." He promised, sitting up on top of the counter as he did so.
It was only once the man's back was to him that Matthias sighed, draped the dishcloth in his hands over his shoulder, and moved out the back door. He was unsurprised to be immediately met with hands ramming him against the side of the building hard enough to leave his head whacking against the wall, making him see stars for a moment.
Lars glared down furiously at the man he had pressed against the wall, so tempted to kill him right then and there for taking advantage of and hurting his Iain. The only thing that stopped him from doing this that was the knowledge that it would upset his Scotsman that sat at home waiting for him. Instead, he lashed out at the man's face, the impact of his fist against Matthias' nose sending a jolt up his arm and a satisfying cracking sound filled the air. While Lars was usually surprisingly laid back and mellow, not one to immediately jump to violence, he couldn't deny the fact that the cry of pain that the Dane uttered was satisfying.
"Why." He snarled low in his throat, the word reverberating inside of his chest. He slammed Matthias back into the wall like a ragdoll when he was met with silence for too long, demanding for an answer as the man's head cracked back against the brick.
Matthias grimaced as he felt blood not only gush out of his nose and down his face, but also down the back of his neck, the force of the second smack into the wall cracking open his head. For a terrifying split second he wondered if his friend was going to kill him, but with the way Lars' shoulders were tensed and trembling, he felt relief. The raging Dutchman was restraining himself.
"We were dru-" Matthias began, only to be slammed against the wall again as Lars snarled furious, undecipherable Dutch at him. He wasn't a small man by any means, but he felt tiny with the sheer strength in the other man's arms.
"Look. You asked me why now give me a fucking chance to answer!" He snapped, glaring at Lars with pain and anger glazed eyes, only to let out a startled choking sound as one of the hands at his shoulders moved to clench around his throat.
"Not why you fucked him you son of a bitch!" Lars roared through clenched teeth, tightening his hold on Matthias' throat for long enough to watch the Dane's face change colors before loosening his hold enough the man could breathe. "Why did you feel the god damn need to tear him apart?! He looked like a fucking rape victim damn it!"
Matthias pained blue eyes went wide with shock as he stared up at the man towering over him, suddenly finding his fury completely justifiable. He hadn't hurt Iain... Had he? Frantically he thought back over the night, remembering it much better than Iain had. He remembered going home, Iain going down on him, fucking the man into the sheets and staying awake for hours in stunned disgust when he realized what they had done. As far as he remembered Iain had cried out in pleasure... but thinking back on it, the way the man had shook and tensed, maybe he hadn't enjoyed it as much as he originally thought.
"What... I don't know what you are talking about..." Matthias said slowly, looking up at Lars with hesitance. What exactly had he done? He knew he had fucked up, but not like this!
The surprise on Matthias' face was enough for Lars to remove the hand from around the man's throat, but he still kept him pressed harshly to the wall. He was tired of this not remembering bullshit.
"What do you want to know about, the fist sized bite marks all down his neck and across his shoulders, the handprints on his hips or the dried blood all down his sides? If that's the way you treated Lukas I'm surprised he stayed with you this long!" Lars rumbled dangerously, thinking back to what his Iain had looked like with a shudder.
Matthias looked like he had been punched in the stomach when he bowed his head, tears in his eyes. He didn't know! He didn't realize he had hurt Iain at all! He never had hurt Lukas in the past! But the more he thought about it, the less sure he became, his confidence terribly shaken with the news. Was that the real reason Lukas had left him? Surely he would have noticed hurting the Norwegian?
"I-I'm sorry...' He gasped, not finding the strength to lift his head and meet the Dutchman's eyes, feeling completely worthless and miserable, more so than he had before.
"Sorry." Lars scoffed, tossing Matthias away from him and watching him fall to the ground, eyes cold as he looked down at the back of the Dane's bloodied head. Sorry didn't even begin to fix things. If anything, it made him even angrier than if the man would have just stayed silent. Sorry didn't change what had happened, didn't reverse the fact that he had hurt Iain.
Matthias stayed on the ground, making no move so much as roll out of the strange position he had landed in, and arm crumpled beneath his form. He had all but forgotten Lars' presence with the panic rolling through his head. What if every time he had slept with Lukas he had hurt him? Surely the man would have told him?! It wasn't until Lars had spoken again that he moved, just enough to look up at the cold looking Dutchman.
"What?" He whispered, voice cracking despite holding no volume as he regarded his hostile looking friend, having missed what he said due to his self-hating, questioning thoughts.
"I said that I expect my last check in the mail. I don't ever want to see your face again. Don't call me. Don't talk to me if you see me. Don't even talk to Iain." Lars rumbled, before turning without another word and walking away. If he stayed any longer he might change his mind on letting the man escape with such minor damage.
Matthias stayed laying on the pavement behind his bar for a long while, even after Lars had left. It was only after he felt a hand at his shoulder that he even moved again. When the hand at his shoulder turned into arms pulling him up, he broke down into great, shuddering sobs as he pressed his face against Lukas' shoulder, not knowing why the man was there but not questioning it either. He needed the comfort.
Lukas had seen the whole thing from Lars initially slamming Matthias against the wall to him leaving again and everything in between. As much as he absolutely hated to admit it, he couldn't leave Matthias alone no matter how hard he tried. He didn't want to forgive the man so easily but his heart gave him no choice. He was hopelessly in love with the stupid bastard sobbing in his arms.
"God damn it Matthias. I should kill you myself you bastard. I should finish what Lars started and kill you my damn self." He muttered in his usual soft, bored tone as he slowly ran a pale, petit hand across Matthias' shaking shoulders.
Matthias merely sobbed and quaked at Lukas' words, pressing impossibly close to the small blonde. He understood he had messed up damn it! He didn't need anyone else to come and kick him while he was down. Lukas was merciless when he was angry though. Instead of screaming at him, like he expected, his little Norwegian lover just sighed and continued to rub against his back.
"You've never hurt me you know." Lukas whispered quietly, staring at nothing behind the Dane in his arms as he worked to calm him back down, not even flinching at the blood that was splashing against his neck and on his clothing. Realizing his words were a lie though, he looked down at Matthias with uncertain eyes.
"At least... Never in a sexual sense." He amended. In truth, hearing him sleep with Iain had hurt worse than anything the man could ever do to him physically. When Matthias still didn't speak, he sighed and helped him to his feet, keeping pressed close to him as they started walking down the street.
"Can't... The bar..." Matthias mumbled in a watery voice, tears and blood and snot mixing grotesquely on his face. He looked about ready to protest again when Lukas shook his head, but the man held up a hand to silence him before he could speak.
"I already called to have someone cover for you tonight. You aren't going to work looking beaten up like a girl." Lukas snapped, rolling his eyes as he smacked Matthias upside the head despite his clearly broken nose and the blood that matted the back of his head.
Even if the gesture appeared harsh, Matthias knew it was affectionate. That's just the way Lukas was, and as strange as it seemed, the smack calmed him down more than being held had.
"Thanks..." He whispered, allowing Lukas to lead the way home as he tilted his head back to try and get the last little trickle of blood to stop running from his nose.
Lukas just shrugged and rolled his eyes, too stubborn to admit he had done something nice for the man. How annoying it was to hate that he couldn't hate Matthias... Not even a little tiny bit.
"Let's just get you home..." He muttered instead, keeping his eyes fixed straight ahead. God damn it you idiot... Why do I love you...
Almost as soon as Lars stepped inside of his apartment he was met with arms wrapping around his neck and lips tasting heavily of smoke pressing against his own. Immediately his left over anger faded and he laughed a soft, rumbling laugh, forest eyes slowly filling with a soft light.
"Well hello to you too sweetheart." He murmured, returning the affection by wrapping his arms around his lover's waist and pulling him close, keeping their lips connected with a soft hum.
When they broke apart, Iain was grinning and he looked up at Lars with bright eyes. It was good to see that the man hadn't committed a murder with his conversation with Matthias. In truth, he hadn't been so sure that the police wouldn't end up getting involved before everything was all said and done. Seeing Lars before him now was truly a reason to celebrate in his eyes, but then, the man had always had significantly better self control than he did maybe it wasn't any surprise that nothing serious had happened.
"Ah take it everything went well then?" He questioned, threading his fingers through Lars' hair with a soft hum as he pressed against him and rested his head on his shoulder.
For a second Lars didn't answer. Instead he enjoyed the feeling of Iain's gentle fingers roaming across his scalp and the feel of the man in his arms. For the first time since the Scotsman had been back he felt like everything was truly back to normal. Roughing up Matthias a little bit and letting the Dane know he had messed up had taken that last little weight off of his chest.
"It could have gone better. It could have gone worse." He finally said in his soft, rumbly voice, twisting his head just enough to the side to press his lips to the shell of Iain's ear. When Iain let out a startled sound he smiled and craned a little more to press his lips to the man's pale neck, pleased to find the skin only barely disturbed.
Iain lifted his head from Lars' shoulder and pulled away from the man's lips with slightly blushing cheeks. A smile was on his face as soon as he caught sight of the amusement in Lars' eyes and rather quickly their lips were together again, moving together perfectly as their breath came hotly through their noses. This time when they broke apart they panted quietly and both of their eyes sparkled.
"Well hey. Yeh didn't kill him and as far as ah know yeh didn't hospitalize him." Iain pointed out with a grin, pulling Lars away from the door and pushing him down onto the couch before laying down against him with a happy little hum.
Lars just rolled his eyes and ran his hands along the man's back, though his eyes shown with good humor. He had missed the man sprawled out across his chest more than he cared to admit and the longer he had the man in his arms, the more he realized just how strongly he really had longed to have Iain with him again. The thoughts effectively killed the amusement in his eyes and he tightened his arms around Iain's waist subconsciously.
"Lars?" Iain said in confusion, surprised by the sudden grief in the man's eyes and how tightly he was held.
"How... How long are you staying then?" Lars whispered, eyes pained as he fixed his gaze on the ceiling. He wasn't so sure he wanted to know the answer, but it was going to bug him not knowing. What if Iain was only staying for a few days? He hated to admit it, but he wasn't so sure he could take the man leaving again.
Iain looked startled for a split second and looked down at Lars for long enough to observe the agonized look in his eyes before he smiled sadly and pressed closer to the man. Sighing softly, he buried his face against the skin of Lars' neck, breathing in his scent hungrily as he pressed soft, reassuring kiss along the smooth exspanse.
It was just like his over worried Dutchman to immediately think about the negative again. Luckily for them though, Iain hadn't the slightest intention of leaving without him any time soon.
"Well... Ah suppose ah'll have to go when mah brother marries the piece of Spanish ass he ended up catching... Did yeh know ah have twin nephews? Did ah tell yeh? Ah can't remember if ah did or not, but if ah didn't now yeh know. They're only like... two maybe? If that? Cute little shits..." Iain rambled, seeming to have lost his train of thought. As soon as he remembered though he hastily kissed Lars' neck again before resting his face against the man's soft, sensitive skin.
"Ah'm not leaving though. Not any time soon, and anywhere ah have to go ah'm dragging yer ass with me darlin'." He announced happily, lifting his head with a grin when he felt his lover's arms constrict around him lovingly. That really was what Lars was anyway, wasn't it? His lover? They never really had stopped being together even when they were so far apart.
As soon as Iain grinned at him, Lars had the man pulled down into a fierce kiss, ecstatic, and maybe a bit unbelieving, that Iain wasn't leaving him again. As sappy as it sounded, he had dreamed about hearing his lover tell him he was back for good too many times to count. It was almost surreal actually hearing that Iain was going to be his and only his again, just like he was supposed to be.
"You really are staying then?" He couldn't help but ask, wanting to hear the words again just to make sure it all wasn't some sort of joke.
"Aye Lars. Ah'm staying right here. Ah missed yeh too much babysitting mah wee little brother to leave yeh again." Iain promised, kissing the man again rather fiercely as he brought his hands to tangle in the man's hair.
He couldn't help but press closer to the man when he felt a hand snake up his shirt and trail across the muscled planes of his back, and for the first time in days he felt truly happy to be back safe and sound inside of his lover's warm, strong arms. While he didn't plan on ever doing something so incredibly stupid again, it was profound and astounding to realize just how much Lars loved him.
What was even more profound and astounding though, was realizing just how much he loved the man back.
One not for those that read it all the way through. Rowan is NOT a permanent character. She is merely a reason that Luxembourg, a CANON character is born. For stories containing Luxembourg, also known by me as Landon, look on my profile. He's an adorable little shit. That about wraps it up, and for one of the five or six of you that actually follow me religiously, the next one HOPEFULLY is going to be a spuk. (We'll keep our fingers crossed)