Pairing: Lucius Hunt/Finton Coin, Rating: R, Spoilers: . . .I. . .do not. . .think there are. . .any. . .? darty eyes, Warnings: mild language, slash
A/N: This little bit of weirdness came after watching 'M. Night Shymalan's: The Village' for the second time, this time with lots of friends who wanted me to spoil the movie for them, because I'd already seen it once. I could not help but make a slashy pairing, because. . .Lucius Hunt is awesome, and Finton Coin has some redeeming qualities for going into the Forest with Ivy. And I don't care much for Ivy; she's a little assy and mean to Lucius. SO!
Oh, and this is un-betaed, and not done on a word-processor with spell check, so if my spelling is horrid, it's not my fault, I swear; I just can't spell for crap.
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Prologue:
Lucius wasn't sure why he'd agreed to help Finton in the Tower. He knew the other young man was scared of Those We Do Not Speak Of, much as anyone else was, but Finton had been the Tower Keeper many times without asking for Lucius to be there. He had worn the safe color and sat there through the night, alone and cold, waiting to see if They would breech the border.
Lucius would much rather not be there. Finton was a good friend, and Lucius had few of those, but he wanted to be in his nice, warm bed, safe and unaware of the possible danger of sitting in the Tower.
He wasn't even wearing the safe color. He curled his knees to his chest, content on the comfortable silence that had befallen them, and watched Finton's back as he stared into the forest.
"Lucius?" Finton murmured into the silence, towards the Forbidden Woods. "Thank you. . .for coming."
Lucius didn't respond. He looked towards the wooden floor, and heard Finton sigh slightly.
There were reasons why he was there, reasons why he'd denied Kitty Walker the affection she had asked him for in the forge; he could still feel the look of confusion that had touched his face as she spoke. But he would never speak the reasons.
They were as deadly as the Bad Color, as They were. And he rather liked his body being wholy in one piece.
His gaze darted slowly back to Finton. The strawberry-brunette was still facing away from him, scanning the trees beyond them. Worrying his bottom lip, Lucius stood, and wandered up to Finton's side.
"Finton?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. The slightly taller young man looked over at his friend, meeting his eyes with that trusting twinkle he always had when they spoke in the day. Lucius swallowed a little, and gripped the railing of the Tower wall, keeping his eyes carefully away from Finton's sparkling ones.
"What is it, Lucius?"
". . .There is something seriously wrong with me," the ginger brunette admitted finally, and hung his head, pouting a little. He felt like a small child, out of place and awkward, even though this was one of his best friends. Finton blinked at him, before turning to face him fully, raising a brow. Slowly, Lucius looked up at his friend, sucking on his lower lip in a distracted--and distracting--manner.
"What in the name of all that is good are you talking about, Lucius Hunt?"
Lucius sighed, and turned his back to the forboding forest. He slid down the wall, and sat heavily on the wooden floor of the Tower, running a hand through his hair slowly; slowly, he shook his head.
"I'm not even sure any more," he whispered haltingly, his voice somehow husky against the air. Finton spared a glance to the forest, before he knelt before Lucius, removing his hood and placing his hands gently on his friend's knees. Slowly, Lucius looked up from Finton's hands to his face; his gently blue-green eyes were childishly confused, innocent.
Lucius didn't know what became of him, as his hand stole up to Finton's cheek, his thumb stroking the other young man's soft, downy cheek, pulling him slowly closer, until their foreheads touched gently.
"Did you hear what transpired between Kitty and I this late afternoon?" Lucius asked softly. Finton shivered as Lucius's breath wafted over his mouth and chin, but he managed to nod, meeting his friend's gaze. "I'm going to tell. . .show you. . .why I couldn't give her what she wished."
Finton had no chance to react to Lucius's words as the ginger brunette leaned forward swiftly. Their lips met in a harsh clasp, bruising in it's intensity, at the same time as it was morbidly pleasant. Startled at first, Finton's eyes remained open, until Lucius carefully tilted his head, buried his hand in the strawberry-brunette's soft, shoulder length locks, and ran his tongue parilously over Finton's lower lip. Then, he broke, his eyes sliding closed as he leaned into the intimate imbrace--so much more than brothers--and opened his mouth to Lucius's prompting.
When his lungs began to burn, Finton pulled back. He met Lucius's gaze with mild startlment and confusion, tilting his head and looking at his friend askance. The kiss had been. . .pleasant. Burning with something different, something masculine and darkly attractive.
"But. . .," Finton murmured, shaking his head. "Why?"
"I don't know, Finton," Lucius half sobbed, pulling away from any contact with his friend, shutting his eyes and burying his face in his hands. "I do not know what is wrong with me, only that I feel like this. That I have for many years, since I became a man."
"Is it. . .just me, Lucius, or--?"
"No," Lucius murmured, just above a breath as he raised his eyes to Finton. He shook his head, licking his kiss-swollen lips. "No, there are others. But. . .but I thought. . . Nevermind. It was foolish of me." He made to stand, but Finton grabbed his hand, looking at him imploringly.
"Please don't go, Lucius. It was. . .quite nice, actually." Lucius stared at him, sure his face held the same mask of abhorent confusion as it had held when Kitty had spoke her loving words to him. Finton dropped his gaze, and began to release Lucius's hand, before the smaller man tightened his hold, pulling Finton to his feet.
Finton was not surprised when they kissed then, and in fact smiled into it gently, resting one shaking hand on Lucius's neck, the other on his hip, pulling him close. Close enough to feel his attractions.
Close enough to burn deeply for that attraction.