Flashforward: Dark Future
Chapter One
Demitri Noh rubbed his calf against Mark's leg and curved his body close against his, finding it impossible to swallow his thick, hard length stroking him. Filling him... making him whole... lazily.
"There is a long, a long breath teasing your ear," Mark whispered and then kissed Demitri's hair. Then he kissed his moist cavern, igniting in Demitri a desire to feel his skillful attentions directed toward other more strategic areas of his anatomy. "And we've both been here before." Mark hummed, pressing his nose against his neck. "You know."
Demitri caught himself up short. Now Mark and he was not married. Not anymore. Now Mark and Demitri were both very single. Yes...
They were both in FBI. But where Demitri had completed his tour of duty and accepted honorary discharge, Mark remained a reservist and thus could be called back any time. And he had been.
"I'm good at everything," said Mark. And that knowledge had helped Demitri relax. Demitri pulled back to look at his handsome eybrows draped in the shadows. It would be dawn soon... and shortly after that he kissed him leisurely.
"It won't be the same without you here," he whispered now to Mark, who smothered his hand over his hair and down his back, eliciting a yummy shiver that left him wishing his fingers to his bun-buns. "Don't you dare meet anyone else over there..." Demitri's words were barely audible, and so unlike anything he would usually say that they surprised him. His face burns red and he grabs his cheeks and looks around the room confused and sad.
Mark chuckled and easily slid him to lie on top of him, toe to toe, nose to nose, moist cavern to moist cavern, eyebrows to oohhh those eyebrows, eye to eye, hard length to hard length, bratworst? Bratworst. This sets fire to every inch of Demitri. "I have more than I can handle with just Dem," Mark shakes his head down. "..."
He kissed him, much the same way he had the first time two years ago on March 15, 2010. The night had been cool and airless... the sex sweaty and hot. Demitri had not been able to get enough of Mark then... and nothing had changed. No matter how often they made love, he wanted more. He knew he would not stray. It wasn't the way Mark was made. They didn't come any truer than Special Agent Mark Benford. It was the only thing he loved about him.
Oh also the way how he touched him!
His fingers firmly budged in the direction he had been graving, cupping his tushes then moving toward his... He caught his breath.
"Mmm... do I have to worry about you being here, all by YOURSELF?" asked Mark, his fingertips finding his slick, swollen pork sword from behind. Demitri automatically spread his thighs to allow him VIP access, and his heart goes thump... thump...
He flicked his tongue slightly inside Mark's mouth then withdrew it. "I dunno?"
"Uh-huh..." Mark says. "Uh huh..."
"..."
"Yes, well," Mark continues here, "I've already asked Janis to keep an eye on you."
Demitri had known Janis longer than he had known Mark, but the bond between the two men was gooder. Demitri placed his knees on either side of Mark's legs and scooted until his heated BUTT hole pressed against his pulsing hard-on. "And you trust her?' he asked. He rocked his hips, rubbing hiis poop chute down his thick length.
Mark groaned at his movements, one of his eyebrows raises while the other goes down over the other eye. Demitri moans into his mouth all too happy to welcome him into his body again... and again... and againnnn... againnn! As often as he could before time and space and the FBI would force them apart for eighteen months. Eighteen long months...
Eight Months later, December 21, 2012.
When Demetri opens his eyes, the bed is cold. He lets out a sigh of abandonment and rolls onto Mark's side of the mattress, pressing his face into the cool indigo satin of the pillow. It doesn't smell like him anymore, just of his own Demetri scent. There was a time when he could take a deep breath and Mark's smell would fill his nostrils, cuddle his brain. Cuddle. Cuddle.
The buzzer sounds, but Demetri doesn't make an immediate move toward getting up. He takes a moment to gaze lovingly at the framed photograph on his nightstand. That sharp nose, those dynamic eyebrows raised quizzically and challengingly. Those lips… and those eyebrows.
The doorbell sounds again with a hint of impatience. "Coming, coming!" Dem shouts, though he's sure whoever is waiting cannot hear him. It is virgin Janis! Janis gives him her evil death stare.
"It's not polite to leave a lady waiting," she says in deadpan sarcasm. She looks over Demetri's half-clothed state in mild appraisal, "Where you planning on wearing clothes to work today?"
Work? Demetri forces a cough into his fist. Spittle. "Can't. I'm sick." He wipes his spittle hand on his boxers. They're the grey pair Mark gave him for his birthday so long ago…Back when Demetri wasn't sure if he'd have another birthday…At the time he hadn't known what to make of such a personal present, but that's just how Mark is. For every holiday he gives Dem a new pair of underwear. But not just Demetri. Janis, Wedeck, Charley. Loyd Simcoe. Wedeck. It's just the kind of man Mark is, Demetri ponders fondly. Was. It's been so long. What if he isn't the same?
"Shut up. Get some pants on while I help myself to your fridge." Demetri watches with vague resignation as Janis makes herself at home in his kitchenette. In his one room apartment there is no privacy unless he wants to change in the bathroom there's barely enough room to fit a foot in. When Mark had wanted to get a little adventurous in the shower, they needed to press so tightly against each other, bratwurst against hard-length…Ahhh…
Janis buries her head in the fridge and closes the door and rifles around. Meanwhile Dem throws on his clothes, not bothering to rinse off in the shower. If Janis is going to drag him out on a day like today, she's going to have to deal with his natural musk. He's lost a little bit of his vanity during his lover's absence, and no longer bothers to gel his hair so diligently, or shave as often as he used to. There's a few days worth of stubble dotting his jaw line. Janis (who he never had sex with) and Simon (who was made a permanent part of the research team after his help during the flashforward investigation) made fun of him for it at first, but now they just let it lie.
"What, no beer anymore?" Janis asks, opening the refrigerator door without pulling anything out, "Never mind. Let's get to work if you're done cuddling Mark's pillow."
Dem pulls on his leather jacket and they're out the door.
Janis and Demetri who are partners are on a missioN! Assignment.
"Go get him! I'll bring the car around and if he tries to escape through the back, I'll get him," Janis says because she has a daughter who is adopted from Australia. "I. Will. Get. Him."
Demetri somersaults out of the car and into the street, jumping over the curb and bursting through the door. It slams open and screams on it's hinges behind him, but he's so fast he can barely hear it. The man ahead of him let's out a grump of annoyance at Demetri's persistence and takes the stairs, two at a time. Up UP UP! Demetri takes the steps three at a time. That means Demetri is climbing faster.
The purse snatcher takes the rooftop door and breaks through, knocking the door clear down. Demetri somersaults through the doorway and lands on his two feet. One, then two. Good, then one again. Okay, two.
"Won't you give up?" shouts the purse snatcher, jumping down a ledge onto a lower level. But no! Dem won't give up! He flips over the ledge and narrowly misses grabbing the crook by shoulder. The end of the line! The building ends ahead, but the criminal intends on jumping the gap.
The purse snatcher flies through the air-! And the world goes black.
This is a flashforward:
Demetri is returning to the motel, the room number 137. The lights are off but for the tiny overhead light illuminating the round kitchen table. Mark barely glances up from the card game he is playing with the guys in the FBI. One piercing brown orb gazes deeply into own for the moment they connect, but the eye-contact crunches Demetri's already bruised heart. Mark's left eye has a scar across it, the optic lens chalky white. The scar leads into his eyebrow. Those eyebrows...
"Hey, Agent Noh. Why don't you join us?" Wedeck asks, not looking up from his hand of cards. The room smells of a good stir-fry. Demetri is hungry but he doesn't want to stick around. Mark doesn't want him here, he can tell.
"No thanks," Demetri says, helping himself to a bowl of good stir-fry, planning to eat on the go. There is a calendar on the wall by the stove. Today is December 28, 2012, "Rain check."
He needs to get something from the bedroom. That's the reason he came. He forgot something. He opens the door and steps inside, catching a brief glimpse of the room. There's a woman tied up on the floor, her hands bound behind her back and her ankles tied. Duct tape covers her mouth, her make-up leaving dusty tracks down her cheeks, her hair scraggly and greasy. She let's out a muffled scream and then a bag is covering his head and he can't breathe.
End of the flashforward.
Demetri blinks his eyes open. The sky is on fire overhead
"Aughhh," he groans and coughs, his lungs dry. Something is burning his eyes and when he rubs at his face his hands come away white-gray with ash. He rolls over on the cement roof top to look over the edge of the building where the purse-snatcher is sprawled out, body twisted as if he were still trying to run in death, blood pooled around him. His phone is ringing.
"Demetri? Dem?" It's virgin Janis! "Oh my God. Tell me you're okay."
"I'm not sure," he says, feeling the back of his skull where an impact wound is oozing steadily, "Stay where you are. I'll find you."
The office is bustling with frantic activity, bodies colliding and weaving around each other, narrowly avoid collision in their hastiness to reach their destinations. Paperwork needs to be filed, phones need to be answered, superiors need to be met with.
"Noh! Hawk!" Wedeck stands in the doorway of his office, beckoning the men toward him. Janis and Demetri rush over, intent on learning whatever they can about what caused this second blackout. And why now, of all days. There is someone in the office, but he is facing away from them and his image is obscured by Wedeck's imposing figure blocking the entryway, "Men, I'd like you to welcome back a friend of ours who flew back to Los Angeles specifically because of the blackout. Agent Mark Benford."
Disclaimer: I don't own Flashforward! If I did, Dimitri and Mark would've gotten together in episode one!