fellowshippers | Don't Ask, Don't Tell (6/8)

Title: Don't Ask, Don't Tell (6/8)
Author:

smutcutter
Pairing: SB/OC (Harris)
Rating: NC-17 (for this chapter and scattered throughout)
Warning: This contains an original character... don't hate the playa...
Disclaimer: This is totally fake! Beyond fake! Never happened, never will - hell, some of the main characters are out my own demented mind.
Summary: Sean falls for a man, Harris - it was the best of times - it was the worst of times - it's told in many flashbacks - this is not a work in progress, it's done - I will be posting a chapter every few days. I want to thank

tiggothy for her super fast and amazing beta work,

hippediva for her constant support, and

frahulettaes for everything....

Don't Ask, Don't Tell
by SmutCutter
CHAPTER 6

Harris looked shellshocked in the cab on the way home. The unearthly glow of his stricken expression shone in the dark back seat. Stephen gripped his cold hand tighter.

"Harris?" He whispered.

"Yea?"

“I guess you never told him.”

Harris shook his head mutely, then rubbed his forehead and sighed. "I can't. I just can't."

“I know.”

The house was empty when they arrived and Harris crawled into bed with Steph. He just felt he could not take talking about it tonight, and it was clear Sean felt the same as it was after 3 am and there was no sign of him. He did know he didn’t want to sleep alone in their bed. Steph’s room was the safe place, and for a moment, it felt like he never left Los Angeles except for the ache in his gut and in his heart.

Harris had spent most of the night watching the moon fall and decided he should at least try to sleep, even though he did not have any of his pain killers. He was amazed how easy it was to see a doctor here and have his prescription renewed. His doctor in the States recommended this guy and he was cool, Harris liked him, especially, since he didn’t bat an eye at all the refills. His eyes slipped closed and he relaxed into Stephen's deep breathing, and missed getting tangled in his black curls.

He was cold. He was naked. His long hair was loose, feathery across his back. The room was dark and the fire was dead. The clink of glasses and the fire roared into life making Harris jump, but he was glad to see it. He was so damn cold. Suddenly, all the lights came on and the opulent, glittering, antique crammed room was flooded with people. They were all in tuxedos and designer evening gowns, laughing, enjoying the instant party. It was a jumble of people young and old, beautiful and some with fading beauty. Harris' nakedness made him blush and he backed towards the fire, eyes darting around looking for an exit.

"Let the games begin!" A large man with a full dark beard announced like a carnival barker and the crowd answered with a huge roar of cheers and applause. Harris' mind cleared as he looked down at the oriental rug. He knew this place. He knew some of the faces. Had there been so many, he wondered. His eyes traveled over their features, their eyes tearing back at him hungrily. Their hands were aloft holding glasses, smoking cigarettes and fondling whips. He had often been the entertainment of the Game Room that fateful year in Pasadena under the English Dragon, Peter. Always with Stephen by his side. This time, he was alone.

"Come here, boy!" The large man ordered and Harris was frozen as the man's beady eyes peered at him. Suddenly, two other men were at his sides, both of them of equal size and strength to Harris. They gripped his arms, fingers dug into his flesh and began to drag him forward.
He struggled, felt the plush rug beneath his bare feet, his hair flying frantically, desperately trying to dig in his heels. He wanted to scream for Stephen, or Charles, hell - anyone! But, he had no voice, only guttural growls of resistance.

"Oh! Feisty tonight, are we, Harris?" The large man stood before him, grinned, hands behind his back and rocking on his heels. He looked around the encircling mass with a gleam in his eye.

"Shall we show him what happens to naughty little boys who won't play our games?" A great deep laugh spilled from his pudgy lips. Harris eyes were wide and he shook his head in violent denial, thrashing in the grip of his captors. A signal was given and the crowd seemed to press
in on him. He felt the cold steel of handcuffs when his aching arms were wrenched behind his back. He gritted his teeth as rough hands shoved him forward towards a small lit platform.

The panic mounted in him and his eyes stung from held back hot tears of anger. He was thrown the last few steps and landed sprawling onto the carpeted rise, his face ground into the rug, his hair gratefully fell over his face. The usual small black satin pillow was there for his knee. He whipped his head around and stared up at the smiling, greedy faces. Oh yea, he thought, I know you. All of you. I know your perversions. I know the secrets you mumble in your sleep. I know what each and every one of you tastes like.

He spat and crawled slowly to his knees and was shoved face down, his bare ass high in the air. Hands gripped his ankles and pulled his legs painfully apart. His hands were freed from the handcuffs only to be rebound tightly at the wrists with a long brown leather strap, outstretched before him, raising his chest off the floor.

The large man was on the other end of the strap, cigar clamped in his teeth, roaring with laughter. The smell of leather and a dozen exotic perfumes and colognes gave Harris a headache. He struggled against the strap but it was no use. It just made the man laugh harder.

A cold dry hand brushed his back and moved down slowly to caress his ass. Harris flinched, and his arms were held tighter, ankles held firmer. He dropped his head to look between his legs and saw fingers come from every angle. Slowly, more hands were over his body. It seemed like hundreds of palms and fingers explored him, tugged at the ring that pierced the skin behind his balls, pulled his nipple ring too hard.

Every inch of his skin was covered by a moving hand and he shuddered and bit down on a scream. He tossed his head back in the hopes that his hair would brush away some of the hands that felt like dry brittle moth wings beating against glass. His body broke out in goose bumps and his stomach lurched uncomfortably. A ladies hand grabbed his hair, scraping his scalp with red talon nails and yanked his head back. His chest heaved with frantic breaths, his heart bounced off his rib cage and his eyes were wide with pure terror and revulsion. How can there be so damn many of them, he thought. His hair was pulled and rings tugged. A rough dry finger slipped inside him, then two. His half-hard cock was being stroked carelessly, painfully. He opened his eyes to a woman about to feed him her dark bulging nipple from a sagging, aging, breast. He saw the large man fumble with his belt buckle and drop his pants.

"NOOOOOOOO!" Harris shrieked and sat bolt upright in bed, sweat pouring over his rigid body and tears coursed down his cheeks. Stephen tried to grab him but Harris fought off his hands, bolted for the bathroom, not turning on the light, and violently vomited into the bowl. Steph rushed into the small darkened room. Harris saw the shadow and tried to shove his body into the tiny space between the toilet and the tiled wall.

"NO! Don't fuckin TOUCH ME!" Harris' hair was sticking to his face and he leaned over and threw up again. When he sat back, Stephen managed to grab his shoulders. His skin was slick with nightmare sweat, muscles taut.

"HARRIS! IT'S ME! Its okay!" He yelled and shook his friend, watched the frightened eyes darken. Stephen gently cleaned him up, saw his eyes focus on nothing, his body sporadically convulsed and shook. He led Harris to the bed, sat him down, and retrieved a bottle of pain pills from the night stand.

"I was hoping you wouldn't need these." Steph sighed, looking at Harris' name on the bottle and made him swallow three of them.

"Can't sleep without them." Harris voice was a hoarse whisper. Harris tried to breath normally and Stephen laid him back down, dried his eyes, slowly covered them with the blankets. He cradled Harris gently.

"Shhh - its' okay." Steph whispered into the darkness. Harris was still shook, silent tears soaking the pillow. Stephen took a deep breath and shivered.

"I get that dream sometimes too."

It was late the next night when Sean finally arrived home, still in the same suit, unshaven and disheveled. Daragh had asked no questions when Sean arrived the night before, eyes dark with hurt. He handed him a beer and Sean walked into the second bedroom and closed the door. He was gone when Daragh woke up the next morning.

He spent the day walking all over town and thinking. His heart had blinded him to digging any deeper into this man he invited into his life. Invited, welcomed, tracked and bagged like a lion. What did he truly know about him? He knew a lot. He’d thought he knew enough.

He trudged up the stairs to the bedroom and stepped in. Harris was sitting in sweats curled up in the window seat. He turned, eyes dark and tired, and crushed out his cigarette in the ashtray. The meeting of their eyes sent a shock through Sean that made his stomach jump, like it always did.

“Hey.” Harris’ voice was small.

“Hey.” Sean dropped his jacket and tie on the bed, then shoved his hands into his pockets.

“I was getting worried, but I figured... “ Harris’ voice trailed off and he looked down at the floor.

The silence stretched between them, heavy and uncomfortable.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Sean sat gingerly on the bed.

“Didn’t think it would ever come up.” Harris toyed with the frayed edge of his sweatshirt. “Something I maybe wanted to forget,” he spat.

Sean laced his fingers tight and tried to control his rising anger.

“Well, this is something I think I should have known about.”

Harris sneered. “Yea? Tell me your fuck history then.” He turned his eyes towards Sean, mouth set in a grim line.

“This is a little different.”

“Ya think?!” Harris exploded and stood up. “Fine. You tell me every fucking mistake you’ve EVER made and see where we stand. I fucking love you, you asshole and I was afraid if you knew, you wouldn’t want me, okay!? I’ve been used and abused, baby! Damaged goods here!” He shivered with rage, but at what, he didn’t know.

Sean blinked and leaned back to let the force of the short tirade roll over him. Slowly, he stood to stare at Harris.

“Say that again.” His voice was low.

“I said, I was afraid - ‘

”No.” He cut Harris off. “Not that bit, the other part.”

Harris dropped his eyes and turned away and paced back to look out of the window. His shoulders rose with a deep breath and he looked back at Sean.

“I said I love you.”

“You do know that’s the first time you’ve said that to me. In all this time, that was the first.”

Harris smirked. “Yea, I know.”

Sean walked up behind Harris and slid his arms around his waist. Harris dropped his head and placed his hands over Sean’s.

“I’m sorry.” Harris whispered. Sean felt his breath hitch and a tear splashed on his arm.

“Do me one favor?”

“Yea?”

“Say it one more time.”

********************

Harris opened his eyes and tears ran into his hair.

The glare of the day had given way to a warm twilight glow with a few clouds. He sat up and checked the box he was packing and began to pull things out of it. There were several souvenirs from the places they visited to try and start over after that night and some things which Sean had sent as gifts from whatever location he was on.

At the bottom of the box, something shiny caught his eye. He reached in and came out with an old, golden Greek-like coin.

********************

"God, that feels better!" Sean flopped his fresh washed body onto the bed and saw that Harris had set out a pot of tea and his latest script on his side of the bed.

He sighed and settled into the fresh sheets, watching Harris fuss around the room, straightening up and putting Sean's favorite symphony on the cd player. Sean stared for a long time at Harris' trim muscular body clad only in low hanging sweats, and his hair swinging over his strong bare back and shoulders. Harris turned to smile at him and caught the stare. He winked and watched Sean blush and bury his face into the script only to hear Harris's low laughter. The location shot had taken over three weeks and to return to the sound of that laugh in his home made Sean smile.

"Oh, by the way." Harris went to Sean’s night stand and pulled out a pack of envelopes. "These came for you while you were gone. I wasn’t sure where to keep them, they looked important." He tossed the pack on the bed next to Sean and stood, hands on his hips. "They were really strange. They came almost every day by the same messenger. Nice guy." He lit a cigarette. "There are ten of them. I counted."

He smiled and sat on the bed facing Sean, hooking one leg under the other and rubbing his knee. Sean stared at the handwriting like a deer caught in headlights.

Harris grabbed one, felt the envelope, and caught the shape of something round and hard, like a coin. He put the cigarette in the ashtray and ripped into one end and out spilled just that, a large gold coin, like a casino one dollar piece, but gold and very old looking. Sean just stared and ran his fingers over the handwriting, then Harris’ signature next to it. Harris picked up the coin, rubbing the face on it with his thumb and examined it.

"So, what is it? Is that what is in all of those?" Sean had been holding the packets and nodded yes but did not meet his eyes.

"Its a joke - I guess." Sean mumbled into his chest. Harris sat back and looked at him.

"Sean?" He said in a soft voice. “ No secrets... right?”

Sean took a deep breath. "I did this movie once."

"Yea?"

"And there was this love scene - well, a seduction sort of." His words were low and dark.

"Sounds good so far." Harris smiled and tried to lighten the mood.

"Between and artist and his model."

"Male model? A male artist?"

"Yea." Sean sighed heavily.

"And?"

Sean held the coin up to the light and began to tear open the rest of the envelopes carefully letting each coin clank against the other, making a puddle of them on the comforter.

"This was how it was done. One coin at a time."

Harris eyes grew greener with concern as he watched Sean's memories rise over him like an early morning mist.

TBC