Amazing how fast things go bad, huh? Especially when I'm involved.
Hal gripped the warped bathroom counter and stared unblinkingly into his own reflection. The bouncy, embarrassed giddiness he felt just a few seconds ago was already shattered on reality. Looking in the mirror only made it worse.
His lower lip was red from being sucked on. Darkening hickeys already spotted his neck. Eyes just a little red around the rims from when he was sobbing like a... he let his head drop, tired of looking at himself.
It was so wonderful. For about a minute we were teasing the way we did before I couldn't talk to him without my stomach tying in knots. It was like we were a real couple, or at least friends. But I... just look at me. How we got here.
Hal turned on the tap and splashed his face with some cold water; it didn't really help. Slowly, as if in a dream, he reached down and turned on the hot faucet and stared at the two bath towels hanging up next to each other on the wall. The hacker's was muted green, forever and always green, I told him, the soldier's was plum-colored, white and cream are scratchy hotels, blue is too cold and the color of his suit, yellow just looked dumb on him... he didn't have to say why he rejected the red ones.
Why did I even remember that? Buying towels a forever ago after the last ones were ruined by blood and river muck and god knows what else. I launched for the green section because I have no imagination and, well, it's my favorite color. And in my opinion the muted green is kinda classy. He argued reasonably good-naturedly and then spent at least half an hour finding another color that matched mine just to be annoying.
Hal eyed the muted bluish-purple cloth. It looked so.... out of place on the mercenary-- god when he walks out of the shower to ask me something and I can't even breathe afterwards... uhn. Hal had gone off track by thinking of colors, but the memory of the few times that happened, David's skin still damp, hair clinging to his neck and forehead, that weird towel loosely held around his hips as if he didn't really mind if he dropped it... it all lead back to the fact that he was waiting-- I'll be here-- in the next room. Hal wanted to keep going. All he had to do was grab that trademark green towel, walk back in the other room, and help Dave... clean up.
He reached out and saw a faint bruise on his wrist. He remembered where he was, how he got there, that maybe Dave had come to his senses and no matter what there was absolutely no way this could end without something bad happening.
Is there anything I can do to save this?
Is he going to hate me in the morning?
What if I'm good enough that he doesn't care?
Back to where he started in his depressing fantasy, Hal sighed and then gathered what he needed.
Too late to stop drowning now. I just have to go down... with the ship.
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David was unsure of what to do with himself after the hacker's retreat to the bathroom. All he knew is that he had to get away from the window.
The hell am I supposed to stand... middle of the room? Sit down? He kicked off his shoes and paced a few times before realizing that was a bad idea with his sticky jeans. He ran his hand through his hair and suppressed the urge to laugh at himself. Look at me. I've never been this nervous before. Not even my first time. He settled on the edge of the bed, half sitting and half leaning. Is this the right choice? Is there even a choice that isn't wrong?
Dave looked up when the bathroom door clicked... and found himself staring at his partner, standing there with a wadded up towel in his hands and an expression that was somehow both uncertain and resolute... David would never understand how Hal could do it, have a fascinatingly contradictory look on his face and still look so goddamn good.
Hal took a few hesitant steps forward, nervously fiddling with the fabric in his hands. The hacker stopped by the corner of the bed, just out of reach. Dave found himself unable to move, incapable of getting up or leaning forward and pulling the other man into his arms, no matter how much he wanted to. He was stopped still at how... desirable his partner looked. It wasn't as though this was the first time he'd been attracted to the hacker; he'd found the other man cute, handsome, felt some nameless feral desire whenever Hal got riled up, but this... it was different. Strength and vulnerability all rolled into one, a reminder of why he cared so much for his partner.
Why can't I move? I want to hold him like in the movies and kiss him like it'll actually make anything better. Like it works that way in the real world. I want to make him feel good but nothing's getting done with me just sitting--
Hal looked off to the side and worried at his lip, effectively derailing the steadfast soldier's train of thought. A few seconds of teeth and kiss-flushed flesh and tiny glimpses of a wet tongue that not so long ago was desperately claiming the soldier's mouth and whatever part of Dave that was holding back in fear fell completely away.
The soldier stood. Hal started and tensed at the sudden movement but he didn't back away. David stepped within arm's reach and pulled his partner the rest of the way, not even coming close to caring how the towel was soaking his shirt. Hal looked up at his partner with a mix of anxiety and anticipation. The fearful, hopeful gray eyes unframed by green plastic, the lips a darker hue than normal from bruising contact, the red marks on his collarbone highlighted by a helpful moonbeam...
He took Hal's face in his hands and kissed him. Like in the movies. Like it would make everything better. Like it worked that way.
Like it wouldn't all come crashing down in the morning.
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Hands clenching wet cloth. Thoroughly damp t-shirt clinging to pale skin. Heart nearly bursting from his ribcage. Lungs burning for more air. Body shaking. Blood singing.
He wants me.
Me.
Hal leaned forward, took a step. Dave allowed himself to be pushed back but he didn't break his claim on the hacker's mouth, and that's just how the hacker wanted it. Another step, a turn, a push, and the soldier's legs were pressed against the side of the mattress. They stood like that for another few moments, the towel squashed almost comically between their bodies, before David gave in and fell back to half leaning on the bed. Hal wasted no time in bending down and meeting his partner's lips again.
The whiskey and tobacco... they're gone now...
The awkward lip-mashing from before was a forgotten memory. Movements were less deliberate, actions more instinctive. Hal felt as though he was helplessly caught in a strong current steadily drawing him away from land and from safety, and he didn't even consider fighting it. It was so easy to let himself be swept away when David's fingers were stroking the nape of his neck and David's lips were pressed so perfectly against his and David's tongue was doing truly amazing things to him--
He fell into a swirling vortex, that irresistible wave composed of the immediate, tangentless ideas of touch and taste and need to get to Dave's skin.
That little voice reminding him that it was like this with all the others was washed away with the rest of him, and it didn't come back in with the tide. He didn't care anymore; all he cared about was that David's attention was on him. He was good enough. He could make the other man moan. He would have his soldier.
And Dave, whispered some rebellious spirit normally drowned out by his mental chatter, Dave will... have...
Between those unusually lustful thoughts and the heat of the soldier's mouth on his neck, Hal was amazed he hadn't gotten that anime-style nosebleed yet. He was certainly getting lightheaded and he really wasn't sure how much longer he could remain standing.
Besides, came that voice again, you've got something to do, and it doesn't involve standing.
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Hal broke the kiss and straightened just enough to be out of reach. His face was flushed dark and his eyes were unfocused. Dave leaned back, bracing himself on the bed, a self satisfied smirk forming on his lips.
This is how he's supposed to--
His thoughts were interrupted when Hal suddenly dropped to his knees. With single-minded determination and dexterity the programmer had the zipper undone before the soldier's mind had a chance to process what Hal was doing. His blood grew oppressively hot as if he'd been drugged and his limbs too heavy to move as he gaped at the scene unfolding in front of him.
"Help me out here," came the quiet request, accompanied by gentle but firm tugs on the belt loops. The mission-mode part of him latched onto it like a concrete order and his body moved automatically, unthinking, as if dodging some danger his brain hadn't had the chance to fully process. On instinct he lifted himself from the bed enough for Hal to pull his jeans from his hips, on instinct he straitened his legs enough for Hal to pull his jeans off his legs, and it was only when the warm damp towel moved over his half-erection that some of his higher thought processes snapped back on.
He's...
Smooth hands moved over his knees, silently urging his legs a little further apart.
He's really...
Smooth fingers caressed his thighs.
Hal...
Gray eyes looking down, to the side, anywhere but the soldier's face.
"Hal..."
There was only the barest pause in answer before David felt hot breath on his stomach.
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...don't look up, don't look at him, you'll think about what you're doing...
Shaking. Flushed. Blushing in every way there is. Heavy eyes looking down.
...just keep doing what you're doing, don't think about it, don't look up...
Lips pressed against the base. Hand gently cupping the other side. Hand on the floor to keep the body steady.
...don't look at him, he'll be able to tell, just don't look at him...
Tongue pressed against the thick ridge. Flesh stiffening. Pulse pounding.
...keep going, keep it up, just keep going...
Keep the body steady. Hand sliding down.
...just don't look up, just don't look at him...
Pressed against the tip.
...just don't... just... you can't...
Looked up.
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All he could process was a wet tongue running down the length. All he could feel were lips pressed against him. All he could see were gray eyes streaked with green and brown. And all he could think as his cute innocent Hal swallowed around him was oh god he doesn't have a gag reflex before the tongue and lips and eyes all melted into one inescapable swirling sucking heat.
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Despite the awkward angle Hal managed to keep his eyes locked on Dave's face, barely in focus without his glasses but he could still see the shock written in piercing green. The battle-hardened soldier's cheeks were actually flushed, his breath coming in gasps, his knuckles gone white from gripping the sheets.
I did that, the hacker thought as he broke eye-contact and redoubled his efforts, I made him feel this way. Maybe... maybe...
He ran his hand down his partner's leg, delighting in the good kind of shiver that followed his touch. All the way down to where David's jeans were pooled around his ankles, and then the analytical part of the programmer took note of the fact that his fingers felt only skin and denim.
He wasn't wearing boxers.
Hal shut his eyes as if that would shut out the ever-present doubt. He went out for a cheap lay and he got one. Down on his knees, down to the base, free hand already jammed down his own pants. Nothing's changed.
This still isn't real.
----------
This can't be real.
All higher thought was gone, all that was left was that mouth and just enough presence of mind not to grab shaggy hair and choke him even though that didn't seem to be a problem and that little voice was making sure Dave didn't forget that he learned this with someone. Someone who wasn't that bitch. Someone else touched him like I want to touch him and the jealousy swelled up even though he knew it was stupid, even though it was unreasonable to think that Hal never tried to forget his step-mother and damn he's good at this, and then the whole cycle of thought would start over again.
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He was right. This is all I'm good for.