Disclaimer: I don't own "The Conjuring." Everything belongs to whoever owns them, my wishful thinking aside.
Authors Note #1: Part five of my "(Human) connections" series featuring Brad and Drew, follows "Agamoi," "Biaiothanatoi," "Preternatural," and "Extramundane." This is the final part of this series. – I wanted to examine the events that happened post movie for these two.
Disclaimer: supernatural elements, ghosts, hauntings, canon appropriate violence, adult language, sexual content, oral sex, frottage, drama, angst, post movie.
Supersensible (divine)
He knew he had a problem right around the same night - give or take a few hours - that Brad told a ghost to straight up stop dicking around.
It was the most impressive thing he'd ever seen in his entire life and also one of the most strangely arousing. Call him what you wanted, but he'd defend his right to be uncomfortably hard like it was a lesser known constitutional right. Because the truth was, he'd absolutely not been prepared for Officer Brad Hamilton of the Rhode Island PD to stop pussyfooting around when it came to his gifts, an instead start using them.
To great effect he had to add.
It was a truly beautiful thing to be able say he wasn't even exaggerating either. The ghost in question had been in batshit mode when the frazzled looking realtor burst in on Ed and Lorraine's fifth attempt to communicate. Screaming for the old bag to get the hell out of the house she was trying to sell before she lit the entire thing on fire and sold the property case-lot.
Naturally, that didn't go over well with said 'old bag.'
All he remembered from the in between moments was Brad windmilling his arms and cussing out a blue streak. The shutters of the old, three story farm house slamming open and shut like a haunted percussion before the man finally got fed up and tossed an entire bible across the room – apparently right where she was raging. Stepping in front of where he was caught trying to jam the screaming realtor safely out the door to face the hag himself.
He'd only really internalized that part later.
The part where Brad had done all that because he'd been protecting him.
Because, yeah-
Brad had pretty much read her the riot act - from start to finish - before tellin' her if she didn't quit it he'd make sure she was stuck here till judgement day. Where he figured the good lord would boot her ass downstairs just to be rid of her nonsense.
It'd been absolutely hilarious and completely impressive and he was pretty sure his jaw was still on the floor somewhere with Ed and Lorriane's because hell if he'd come down from that particular high anytime soon. Too caught on the way all the banging and screaming had abruptly stopped. Giving way on a dime as Brad had exhaled something that sounded like "it's about damn time," before the bible whizzed back to him and snapped open to what he could only presume was the old lady's favorite passage.
Brad had obliged and they'd ended up spending the rest of then night reading the bible out loud as the decrepit looking rocking chair in the corner creaked back and forth. Getting a whiff of dust and rose-water as dawn filtered through the broken window panes before Brad cleared his throat and croaked out that she was gone.
Turned out she just wanted someone to give half a crap.
Go figure.
And apparently the feeling was mutual when it came to 'people problems' because about a month later he found himself pressed up against the bathroom trim of the fifth shitty highway hotel in three months, getting kissed within an inch of his god damned life.
It was actually more or less an accident, so much as accidentally tripping into someone's lips was a thing.
It was one of those 'thousand different factors' things that'd probably made it seem like a good idea at the time - which it was. Something brought on by proximity, sharing a room, the events of the previous night and maybe - just maybe - the whole low grade hard-on they had for each other since well…ever.
The corner of the door frame creaked. Digging sharp into his back as Brad shuffled forward, pressing the edges deep into his spine as his tongue traced the seam of the man's lips. Cocky, shell-shocked and asking for permission all at once as Brad groaned into his mouth like it was the best thing.
And yeah- hell yeah.
"What the hell were you thinking?" Brad rasped angrily, grabbing the unraveling loop of electrical cord from his hands and tossing it behind them. The action overly loud and violent despite there being little bite to the words. "He nearly put you through the god damn window!"
"Whatsit?" he half slurred, distracted when the man's lower half brushed against his. Not sure what to do outside of awe and greed for more when he realized both their pricks were perking up for the occasion.
He had a vague recollection of some asshole at the bar earlier as the man's fingers tightened in his belt loops like some sort of sensual threat. Keeping them just slightly apart as Brad took him in. The way he was instinctively leaning in for more, his red bitten lips, how he was already so god damned hungry for it that he might as well-
He nearly laughed all over again when he remembered the derisive comments the dick with the ball cap had muttered into his beer when he'd wandered up to the bar to get their first round. A well-earned celebration after a marathon case.
The idiot had been drunk as well as racist so it hadn't taken much before he was trying to start something in a bar full of people. It had been so mundane after the last seven days - which had nearly resulted in him and Ed being choked to death by the same length of rope that'd strangled the ghost in question - he'd actually laughed in the assholes face.
Brad had been right there, slamming the dude's face into the bar, before the grip on his collar had even registered.
He blinked up at him with an easy, growing smirk. Finally catching onto the where this had all come from as every heave of Brad's chest brushed tantalizing and electric against his own.
"So, you were so concerned you crowded me into the corner to- what? Kiss some sense into me?" he teased. Pausing for dramatic effect as his prick throbbed pointedly in his trousers. Highlighting a neglect he very much hoped to change over the course of the next few minutes.
Brad had him manhandled back against the door frame with a frustrated growl in less than two seconds flat. Attacking his neck with lips, teeth and tongue as he let go of an embarrassingly breathy gasp he'd never own to during the light of day. Nerve endings tingling as he fisted his hand in the man's stiff, overly-gelled hair. Just like he'd been wanting to for months.
They were a god damned cliché and he never wanted it to stop. Ever.
"You're so damn- argh! Had me tied up in knots for god damned months," Brad hissed between kisses as he looked down at him, panting. His assertiveness apparently paying off as Brad stalled. Just watching him this time. Stuck on a playing field he clearly had no experience with despite very much wanting. Hands firming into tight fists on either side like he didn't quite trust himself not to do something stupid as he used the opportunity to tangle his hands in Brad's belt loops and pull. Tugging at the heavy buckle before he ran his thumb down the tense line of the man's crotch. Grin almost feral when it twitched under the heavy fabric. "…Drivin' me out of my damn mind."
"I didn't know you were-" he started, back arching as the man found a sensitive spot just underneath his chin. Making him shudder as stubble rasped against stubble.
God, he loved that feeling.
"I'm not," Brad grunted, just a bit too fast on the mark that it was warning enough for him to start easing back a little. Letting him continue to call the shots before-
"Just you," Brad added, last minute and ridiculously easy. Like he didn't know he'd just coolly laid down the best line out there without even trying,
"Just me," he repeated breathily. Momentarily stuck on how damn romantic it was before Brad caught his expression and tolled his eyes skyward.
"Shut up."
He just grinned. Wicked and promising this time around as Brad arched a brow in response. As if to say, give it your best shot, hot-stuff. Clearly having no idea who he was messing with as he surged forward and caught the man's lower lip between his teeth. Flipping the tables on him as they ricocheted off the door. Thumping back against the sofa before shoving him up against the wall and keeping him there. Hips brushing boldly against strong firm ones as Brad made a high sound into the wet of his mouth. Panting at the friction.
Truth was, he never shied away from a challenge.
As far as he was concerned it was hard to beat rubbing up against another guy. Women were lovely, soft and sweet smelling but he tended to get lost in that same plushness whenever his hips wanted to bat for a thousand. But with men it was hard angles and a firm, masculine sort of glide where nothing got lost. Giving out just enough friction to make the oversensitive – and almost to much - part worth it.
It was fascinating to watch Brad figure it all out in real time. Getting his first real dose of it as his eyes fluttered closed in spite of himself. A chorus of harsh little curses slipping off his lips without filter. Infusing the moment in excitement and possibility as he lost himself in the fabric-rough glide as a building charge of pleasure sparked under his lids.
Almost like it was contagious.
He was trying to figure out what to do first when his knees abruptly buckled and decided for him. Nosing into the man's crotch as he pulled him out his briefs. Finding something to savor when Brad let go of a harsh, but warming sound. Something that zinged him heady with arousal and pleasure – lush and sparking from fingers to toes. Catching sight of Brad's face through his lashes as he breathed humid over the head of the man's cock. Memorizing the wrecked expression, mussed hair and want before swallowing him down like it was the easiest thing in the world. Inhaling the crisp scent as he held back Brad's hips from buckin'.
"Holy Jesus- Drew!"
Oh yeah, he had a feeling they were going to have time for everything.
"So, now what?" Brad uttered from the shitty motel carpet beside him. Bare chest still shuddering through a labored in and out as he spoke more or less into the arm he'd thrown over his eyes.
"Hell if I know," he responded easily. Vaguely contemplating the shiny red rug burn throbbing across his knees as his cock gave an overly optimistic twitch from where it was resting - sated and wet between his thighs. Not sure if Brad was referring to them, his gifts or something else entirely.
"Well, that makes two of is," Brad grunted, palming his own cock idly as the sound of the television blasting rock music from the room to their right filtered through the thin walls.
"I kinda like those odds," he said to the ceiling. Not bothering to hide where he stood on things as he smiled widely at nothing. Listening to the soft, raspy sounds of Brad shifting beside him before-
"Me too, Brad replied, propping himself up on his elbow before leaning down to kiss him.
It was surprisingly chaste this time and full on the lips. Warm and syrup slow in a way that made him think of a whole bunch of things he knew he had no business hoping for in the long run.
Funny how two simple words could be the best thing he'd heard in months.
A/N: Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think. This series is now complete.
Reference:
- supersensible: being above or beyond that which is apparent to the senses, spiritual.