Beast, Oliver's biting words push Chloe into taking a step with Davis she never took before. Warning: Rated M for sexuality


You cook him dinner, you fluff his pillow, you rock him to sleep…

Chloe had turned herself into Davis's passive, pleading nanny. She was losing him. She held onto her old life like a placeholder, while she was thousands of miles from home because she wanted to save lives. The trap made her suddenly, helplessly angry.

Chloe kissed Davis outside their rest stop with lips that tasted sweet and a little hollow. He'd given her the candy heart with shy eyes, but once in the door he was pressing her against the thin surface, burning a hard dent between her legs. His lips pried softly against hers, erratically stroking. Her jacket curled and dropped from his fingers.

She didn't doubt that Davis knew what to do with her, but it was her hands that undid his zipper, shaking with remnants of confused rage. He was—hard to get around—wetting her from simple sight. She'd never thought of herself as one of the girls who liked danger. Yet she prized that she was a calming influence on him; clutched onto evidences of his need and her own bloody fantasies.

Davis pulled her up against his skin with naked eyes, mouth grazing hers shakily. Her hands curled through the movements she needed to guide him inside her, the pit of her stomach trembling. Chloe didn't want to hear Oliver mocking at her in her head and she couldn't stand one more 'Stay away from that monster'.

He worked against her roughly, almost unwillingly when she rubbed against him with her knee. She couldn't have done it differently, giving Davis up to the government agents or to the zone, not when she had pulled the lever that had lost him to her once. She didn't want to lose him. Chloe wanted the warm flit of heat in her stomach to stop and she wanted to be rid of this—impulse that wasn't letting her do her job to save them both. Her jeans dropped to the floor for the first time.

He needed to fuck her and then she needed to find a body; maybe that would bring her to her senses. She felt herself grab at his shoulders, closing her eyes and opening her legs to rub against him. She shouldn't need him or love him. Davis grabbed onto her. "No, Chloe. I'm not going to get you pregnant. I don't know how easily it can pass on..." He closed his eyes standing there against the wall, panting. "I won't hurt you." She'd dreamed of him a little differently.

"You can't." Chloe said simply. He didn't want to die quite so much now. She reached up for his neck and let it curve to kiss her, stroking until his gentle passivity returned. She didn't know if she had reassured or hurt him; but she had gotten shaky with her choices. Her face tingled; he was looking at her and she wasn't supposed to look back.

He had grabbed her palms on his chest, so she shoved him softly backwards onto the sheets. His eyes were soft and lost and the pit of her stomach dropped. He'd wanted her love and she was mocking it. 'I'm sorry. I'm scared.' She wanted to say. But she had power so she kissed him again and soaked in the tenderness she got. Maybe he forgave easily. Maybe he loved her. Her tongue slicked small indents over his neck and stomach, and he responded with gentle gestures that made her forget to breathe. The hand in her hair, knuckles snaking over her belly button lingered on her skin as she went down on him.

Davis made a noise- the choked, small sound he had made when he died- as she took him in her mouth. Her eyes burned when one of his hands reached out for hers. She pulled away and one fisted in the back of her jacket instead. Davis raised the other to his face and squeezed his eyes tightly shut. The ends of his fingers were soft on her back as he moved with her, throbbing lightly between her lips and trying to hold still.

Want burned through her as his breathing lost control. She could deal with that. It felt good to see him panting and open eyed like this. It felt— powerful— like she was taking control back from Oliver, from this nameless creature that was fracturing him inside. Davis said things to her—the way I feel about you— but they ended up soft syllabic endearments and loves and her name this time. Chloe quickened her caresses, hoping he wouldn't be able to say any more, hoping he would by some biological miracle. He said her name once more but it was hardly recognizable.

Looking at his eyes like this was a lot like watching him fight the thing inside him. His would seek her out but at the same time he tried to push her away, tried to protect her from something that was a part of who he was.

Chloe breathed through her nose in bursts, sucking almost quicker than he came in her mouth. She sucked back need and love, hoping she wasn't going to cry. She had power. She had the power to tense him up and drive him to release and clean up afterwards. She had the power to douse water on her face and he wouldn't see. He wouldn't feel guilty when she just wasn't enough anymore.

Chloe lifted herself away from Davis, fighting the urge to back away quickly— or worse—to readjust the pillow under his head because he looked so vulnerable, still shaking a little, with the hand she'd pushed away from her fisted up. Pity and sickness and every loving impulse warred in her stomach.

His eyes swallowed her, a murky sea of need and questions. She clenched her hands to keep from touching him. She had power because he let himself need her. He let himself.

Stay or Run. Guilt or Loss. She could almost taste the fatality. Davis looked at her changeable eyes as she rose to her feet, half-dressed and stiff. Her hands clenching and reaching, his hands on her.

"You care about me." He said softly, as if the thought had just formed itself into something whole and coherent. "You care and this is scaring you." He said again. "I don't want to leave you. I won't. I think I might be built that way."

Davis reached out and wiped her tears away with a soft thumb. Chloe could feel herself easing into his arms, into an existence that sent the placeholders of her former life spinning in their graves.