ext_16123 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
anatketani.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fellowshippers2003-10-29 08:27 pm
anatketani.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2003-10-29 08:27 pm
FIC: Salvation ConnOrli Companion to "Breathe"
This story is a companion piece to the beautifully written "Breathe" by ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
goodtwin. I highly recomment reading that before reading this. It is a Boondock Saints/Lotrips crossover.
Thanks to Kerry for letting Orli have his say.
Amy
Title: Salvation
Author: Amy - anatketani
Pairing: Connor/Orlando (bdsfps/lotrips xover)
Rating: NC17
Summary: Orlando finds salvation.
Warning: M/M sex, angst
Disclaimer: True only in our heads. McManus brother borrowed from Troy Duffy. Notes: For Kerry, seeds planted from our heads, through our fingers, blossomed onto the page and shared with our world.
SALVATION
How did I end up in Boston? It seems like a hundred years ago that I boarded the plane in London. Now...here I am...totally lost. Bugger whoever gave me those directions to the restaurant. I just need a good drink, a good laugh, and some sleep.
I look around me and realize that if I keep wandering aimlessly, I might get recognized. I cannot handle another round of squealing fans and flashbulbs in my face.
I rub my hands over my face and look up to see a dimly lit sign that says: Doc's Bar.
I can’t say why I open the door and go inside, but I do.
It’s blessedly dark, and fantastically warm. I shiver, realizing how cold it was outside, now that I’m in here. I blink as my eyes adjust to the light. I can see several people in the bar, and all of them have turned to look at me. A wash of nervousness settles in, and I almost turn around and leave. What the fuck possessed me to come in here, anyway? I’m a split second from leaving when I hear a voice.
"Can we help you?" the accent is not American, and it takes me by surprise.
I look over and see a man with brown hair and blue eyes watching me, his expression curious. Out of sheer habit, I bite my thumb and look at him.
"I... Um. I think I'm lost," I stammer. "I was looking for... Alessandro's, and I-" I pause, not knowing quite how to continue.
Smooth Orlando...finally here is a bunch of people not trying to rip your clothes off and you’re dropping fancy names like an idiot. But the man grins and tells me that I don't want to go there. He pulls up the stool and offers it to me. I step forward, and he says his name is Murphy, and he introduces me to his brother, Connor.
I think that Murphy was saying something else...but I confess I lose it all...like wind through air. I lose it all but him.
He’s studying me intently. I open my mouth and tell them my name.
"Orlando." I say.
Murphy is grinning and I relax. Connor is watching me, and there's something there... I cannot explain it...something dark and deep. It takes all my will to rip my eyes away.
Murphy chides me about Alessandro's, and offers me a pint. I take it gratefully, glad to have anything to concentrate on other than Connor.
I think I say something inane about wanting to see the local "colour". My mouth always runs away with me when I am nervous.
I take a long drink and set the glass down. Murphy asks Connor something, but all Connor does is agree.
I don't know why, but I smile. A bit of relief actually...I can tell he's nervous, and God help me, so am I.
But now…now my nervousness melts away, replaced by that inner hunter inside me.
Elijah used to say I looked downright carnal when that mood came over me. And now, surrounded by warmth and good drink, and a gorgeous creature across from me, I feel it again. The need to taste and to touch...to possess.
Murphy asks me where I am staying and a blush creeps over me. I'm only here for a short while, staying in a hotel in a part of the city that I’m sure these guys don’t see too often.
When Connor finally speaks, it is to chide Murphy for badgering me with questions. Murphy says something that I don't catch, but I do catch the glare Connor gives him. I'm a bit confused, but I let it go.
We talk for a bit more, and I drink a bit more. My inhibitions always lessen with drink, and tonight is no exception. I love watching Connor out of the corner of my eye...I love the way his adam's apple moves when he swallows. And I am fascinated by the rosary around his neck. A Catholic boy to the bone, I’m sure. It rests on his chest, moving with every breath he takes.
It's becoming harder and harder to ignore the messages my body is sending me. After a while, Murphy announces he's got to take a piss, and I know that this is my chance.
I resist the urge to laugh at Connor’s expression when I slide closer to him.
"You don't say a lot, do you?" I ask softly.
Connor cracks a smile and tells me he's shy. Oh fuck me but I want to break that wall down...
"But there's no need to be shy of me. I'm the outsider here, Connor."
I don't miss any of the subtle hints that my tone has hit it's mark.
He shifts a little and looks at me. I’m feeling bold and rushed. God I want him…
I reach out and caress the heavy rosary around his neck and ask him if he is against sex. His eyes widen in surprise...then quick as lightning, turn dark smoky blue.
He shakes his head no, and I feel a wave of triumph.
I've got him where I want him. Well, not yet, but soon...
All I want to do is straddle him on this barstool, pry apart those lips and drink whatever darkness he's hiding inside...but I don't.
Instead I lean in close until my mouth is next to his ear.
"Boston Harbor Hotel. Room two hundred and three. Will you come? Tomorrow night?"
I am seconds away...waiting to hear his reply when Murphy returns. I move away from Connor before Murphy can see the way my hands are shaking.
He says something about Connor leading me astray and I resist the urge to laugh.
I'm the one who is doing the leading...I think to myself.
Connor's eyes close, and then open again, and when they do, that fleeting look of desire and lust is gone, replaced by cold, bitter darkness. My smile fades as I see the mask slip back into place.
Murphy announces that they are leaving, and to my surprise, everyone in the bar shouts goodbye and wishes them luck. I want to ask why they need luck, but Murphy pulls me out the door before I can. Connor doesn't look at me, but instead walks ahead.
He waves down a cab and I get inside and give the guy the address of the hotel.
I hear the door being closed and see Murphy's head pop down to peer in and grin at me.
"It was nice talkin' with ya English. We'll see you around, alright? Stay out of trouble."
I smile at him.
"Right, trouble follows me around." I say, knowing he has no idea how much.
Murphy laughs, the sound echoing off the buildings.
"We all have that little problem, don’t we Conn?" Murphy looks back at his brother, who is leaning against the brick wall of a building, smoking a cigarette.
Connor's eyes meet mine.
"Aye...trouble." he says softly, and my whole body reacts with a warm flush of heat.
"G'night then!" Murphy says, stepping back. The cab begins to move and I look back, feeling those eyes burn into me long after they are a speck in the distance.
~
The quiet ride back to my hotel room gives me time to think. It’s strange, how a simple layover stop in Boston would yield such temptation. The alcohol that was singing in my veins only a half an hour ago has begun to wane, and when the cab stops and I look up at my hotel, I start to wonder whether or not being so bold was such a good idea.
What if he doesn’t come?
I step out of the cab, pay the driver and walk into the hotel, keeping my head down as I walk to the elevator. I am relieved when I manage to get inside my rooms without being recognized. The door closes behind me and I sag against it. All my exhaustion from earlier has returned, and all I want to do is peel off my clothes, take a long, hot shower and sleep.
I walk across the room, pulling my shirt over my head and throwing it on the floor. I skip along, pulling my jeans and boxers off one leg at a time. I walk into the bathroom and snap on the light and look in the mirror. Oh Jesus…I look like hell. Overseas flights and alcohol always do that to me. No wonder Connor was staring at me.
I pause, and watch my reflection. A niggling thought creeps into my mind. Could I have been wrong? Was what I was interpreting as desire merely confusion at the wild state of my hair and the black circles under my eyes?
I sigh and step back.
Fuck…I always do this to myself. I turn on the shower and step under the steaming hot water, trying not to think about it. I did my part…I made the first move.
God, I want him.
I turn around and let the water beat hard against my neck, feeling the pressure and relaxing.
No, I don’t just want him.
I need him.
~
I spend the morning arguing on the phone with the airlines. The next flight out of Boston to Los Angeles isn’t until Thursday, and I had a dinner I was supposed to attend tomorrow. My agent flips a nut when I tell her. She calls the airline a number of unsavory names and tells me she’ll cancel the dinner.
When I finally get off the phone, it’s already two o’clock. I call out for food and when it arrives, I walk out onto the balcony of my hotel room to eat. I sit and look out over the city, trying to forget about Connor. I fail.
Will he come? Had I come on too strong? I hear the far off wail of a siren and wonder where he is.
“Get a grip on yourself Orlando.” I mutter into the wind. “He’s just a guy you met. He’s nothing, you’ll have your fling and return to Los Angeles with a good memory.”
Suddenly I hate myself for thinking it. When had I turned into such an arsehole?
Worse than that, when had that tiny flickering thought entered my head that I wanted it to be more than just a one night stand?
I close my eyes and breathe in the air, high above the city. The last time I had let myself fall in love, it had been a disaster. Eric had said he was in love with me, but when my shooting schedule had gotten busy, he had gotten upset…said that my career was more important than him.
Then it happened.
I’ll never forget the way that day started…the fight…the way Eric screamed at me, telling me he never wanted to see me again…and when I left, my mind wasn’t on work. I wasn’t paying attention, I had been thinking about how I’d just fucked up a relationship with Eric, how I thought he loved me, and then… I fell. I fell out of that third story window and I almost died.
I step away from the balcony and take a deep breath.
I need saving. I need to *feel* again, I need to breathe.
~
I’m sitting on the couch, watching the hotel television, my eyes staring blankly at the images whipping across the screen.
He’s not coming.
I’m trying to convince myself that it doesn’t matter…but it does.
After an hour of waiting, I finally stand and stretch. It had occurred to me a while ago that I could just sort of “show up” at the bar…you know, look all innocent, while all the while I was desperate for a glance of him.
But I hadn’t left for the simple fact that he might come while I was gone.
But now, as I glance at my watch for the hundredth time, I realize that the only way of getting this gnawing sensation in my gut to go away is to find him.
I stand up, put my keys in my pocket and walk to the door.
When I open it, he’s standing there.
If I had been a light bulb, I would have exploded from the joy.
But my elation at seeing him vanishes in one painful snap.
His shirt and a part of his arm is caked with blood. When he lifts his face to look at me, his eyes are cold and dull. I reach out and took his shoulder, pulling him into the room and quietly close the door. He moves like a wraith, following me as I sit him down on the bed. I kneel at his feet and chew my thumb, unsure of what to say or do.
“Do you believe in angels?” he says, his voice so soft and so…broken.
I can’t answer him. I can’t break the silence…whatever happened to him, he still came to me. “Saviours?” he asks again.
“Connor…” I say, so unsure of myself. I think that if I touch him now, he will crumble into ash and I’ll find myself waking up like this whole thing was a dream.
"Will you be mine? Can you stop me from fallin' any further?"
His voice cracks, and he looks at me…his fingers twitching like he’s desperate…lost at sea…drowning…he’s drowning.
I do the only thing I can think of. I do the one thing that will make him come alive for me again, the only thing that will reach into that darkness surrounding him and save him from dying in it.
I kiss him.
For a brief moment, I think I have lost him. Then, like someone waking from long sleep, his arms wind around me and his whole body answers my kiss, sinking into my skin and pulling me against him…save me, save me…he’s screaming inside and I’m screaming too, losing myself in the maelstrom of his desperation.
It’s not just the simple need of skin on skin…it’s not just the feel of his hardness against my thigh…it’s more.
“Anything…” he says, and with those words, something inside me is released…some instinct that I don’t understand.
I don’t even know quite how I rip his clothes away, I have no idea how I myself come to be naked, but when his skin slides against mine, everything fits. Everything makes sense, nothing else matters but holding him and *making* him feel. I want to make him feel me, make him come alive again.
“Please…make me forget.” He says, his fingers digging into my hair.
“Forget what, your name?” I say, trailing my fingers over him.
“Everything.”
“Did something happen?” I ask softly, itching to help him forget.
His eyes close and I know he can’t tell me. I lean down and graze his neck with my tongue, searing a path along his skin, burning away whatever happened to him. I can hear his sharp intake of breath and in that one moment, I want nothing more than to bite him, to take away that pain and replace it with another…one that connects him to me…but I don’t. It’s too much…too soon.
Instead I let my hands take over, skimming down his thigh to grasp his cock in my hands.
“Jesus!” he hisses and I smile.
“Not quite.” I say, picking up the lube and slicking my finger with it. I look down at him, his chest rising and falling, his eyes closed.
“Ready?” I say softly, loving the way his eyelids flutter at my words.
“Yeah.” He gasps quietly. When I slide my finger into the tight ring of muscle, my eyes close and it takes all my will to be gentle. I can feel him shift under me, and I open my eyes and look down, his eyes lock with mine and he whimpers. I slide a second finger into him, and he arches off the bed.
“Please…”
The sound of his voice, ragged and gasping, nearly drives me over the edge.
I cannot stop my own voice from groaning a yes in response.
I lean down and sweep his mouth with a kiss as I move up, and then into him, sliding in, slick and hot, all the way inside him, biting lightly on his lip.
It’s fucking heaven, being buried inside him.
I’m surprised to hear that the moan I just heard was my own. I rest against him, seeing him smile.
Oh god yes…saving him…saving me…he’s too perfect, he fits me so well…too much…too much…I have to move or I will drown in him.
I bite my lip hard and rock against him, feeling his legs come up and lock behind my back, pulling me hard against him.
The familiar wildness surges into me, taking me over, demanding my body to obey, I can no longer control it.
I open my eyes and see him, writhing under me, his skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat, his mouth open, eyes wide as he looks at me. I want so badly to tell him everything, but words fail me. I want to call his name. Connor, Connor… But my voice catches, turns to a moaning sigh. I reach between us and take him in my hands, moving to the rhythm I have created.
His eyes go cobalt, his spine arches off the bed and I find heaven there when he comes, screaming my name until the sound is echoing everywhere, piercing into my mind and my heart…over and over I want to hear him call my name.
I am falling…coming so hard and hot inside him that I feel like I have emptied my soul into him.
I fall to the bed, my whole body shaking and shivering with the force of my orgasm, trying to regain my senses.
When the world rights itself again, I kiss him, tasting him, sliding my tongue against his, reveling in the taste that I want to memorize.
I look at him and realize that his whole body is pulled taut, his eyes wide as he stares at me, no longer dull and empty, but now filled with a fire that burns into me.
“Breathe, Connor…just breathe…”
~
I don’t know how long we lay there, tangled in each other’s arms, letting the slow waves of heat flow out of us.
I don’t know when or how or why, but I knew.
“I think I might be falling in love with you a bit, Irishman.” I say before I can stop myself.
He yawns and stretches.
“I think I might have already fallen.” He says, curling his fingers in my hair. His words float over me, lulling me to sleep.
There is no fear, only the promise of salvation.
He believes in angels, and I believe in saviours.
I saved him, and he saved me.
As he reaches down and pulls the blanket over us, I know my dreams will be sweet. I smile as we curl into each other, closing my eyes.
We have each other.
All we have to do is breathe.
FIN
goodtwin. I highly recomment reading that before reading this. It is a Boondock Saints/Lotrips crossover.Thanks to Kerry for letting Orli have his say.
Amy
Title: Salvation
Author: Amy - anatketani
Pairing: Connor/Orlando (bdsfps/lotrips xover)
Rating: NC17
Summary: Orlando finds salvation.
Warning: M/M sex, angst
Disclaimer: True only in our heads. McManus brother borrowed from Troy Duffy. Notes: For Kerry, seeds planted from our heads, through our fingers, blossomed onto the page and shared with our world.
SALVATION
How did I end up in Boston? It seems like a hundred years ago that I boarded the plane in London. Now...here I am...totally lost. Bugger whoever gave me those directions to the restaurant. I just need a good drink, a good laugh, and some sleep.
I look around me and realize that if I keep wandering aimlessly, I might get recognized. I cannot handle another round of squealing fans and flashbulbs in my face.
I rub my hands over my face and look up to see a dimly lit sign that says: Doc's Bar.
I can’t say why I open the door and go inside, but I do.
It’s blessedly dark, and fantastically warm. I shiver, realizing how cold it was outside, now that I’m in here. I blink as my eyes adjust to the light. I can see several people in the bar, and all of them have turned to look at me. A wash of nervousness settles in, and I almost turn around and leave. What the fuck possessed me to come in here, anyway? I’m a split second from leaving when I hear a voice.
"Can we help you?" the accent is not American, and it takes me by surprise.
I look over and see a man with brown hair and blue eyes watching me, his expression curious. Out of sheer habit, I bite my thumb and look at him.
"I... Um. I think I'm lost," I stammer. "I was looking for... Alessandro's, and I-" I pause, not knowing quite how to continue.
Smooth Orlando...finally here is a bunch of people not trying to rip your clothes off and you’re dropping fancy names like an idiot. But the man grins and tells me that I don't want to go there. He pulls up the stool and offers it to me. I step forward, and he says his name is Murphy, and he introduces me to his brother, Connor.
I think that Murphy was saying something else...but I confess I lose it all...like wind through air. I lose it all but him.
He’s studying me intently. I open my mouth and tell them my name.
"Orlando." I say.
Murphy is grinning and I relax. Connor is watching me, and there's something there... I cannot explain it...something dark and deep. It takes all my will to rip my eyes away.
Murphy chides me about Alessandro's, and offers me a pint. I take it gratefully, glad to have anything to concentrate on other than Connor.
I think I say something inane about wanting to see the local "colour". My mouth always runs away with me when I am nervous.
I take a long drink and set the glass down. Murphy asks Connor something, but all Connor does is agree.
I don't know why, but I smile. A bit of relief actually...I can tell he's nervous, and God help me, so am I.
But now…now my nervousness melts away, replaced by that inner hunter inside me.
Elijah used to say I looked downright carnal when that mood came over me. And now, surrounded by warmth and good drink, and a gorgeous creature across from me, I feel it again. The need to taste and to touch...to possess.
Murphy asks me where I am staying and a blush creeps over me. I'm only here for a short while, staying in a hotel in a part of the city that I’m sure these guys don’t see too often.
When Connor finally speaks, it is to chide Murphy for badgering me with questions. Murphy says something that I don't catch, but I do catch the glare Connor gives him. I'm a bit confused, but I let it go.
We talk for a bit more, and I drink a bit more. My inhibitions always lessen with drink, and tonight is no exception. I love watching Connor out of the corner of my eye...I love the way his adam's apple moves when he swallows. And I am fascinated by the rosary around his neck. A Catholic boy to the bone, I’m sure. It rests on his chest, moving with every breath he takes.
It's becoming harder and harder to ignore the messages my body is sending me. After a while, Murphy announces he's got to take a piss, and I know that this is my chance.
I resist the urge to laugh at Connor’s expression when I slide closer to him.
"You don't say a lot, do you?" I ask softly.
Connor cracks a smile and tells me he's shy. Oh fuck me but I want to break that wall down...
"But there's no need to be shy of me. I'm the outsider here, Connor."
I don't miss any of the subtle hints that my tone has hit it's mark.
He shifts a little and looks at me. I’m feeling bold and rushed. God I want him…
I reach out and caress the heavy rosary around his neck and ask him if he is against sex. His eyes widen in surprise...then quick as lightning, turn dark smoky blue.
He shakes his head no, and I feel a wave of triumph.
I've got him where I want him. Well, not yet, but soon...
All I want to do is straddle him on this barstool, pry apart those lips and drink whatever darkness he's hiding inside...but I don't.
Instead I lean in close until my mouth is next to his ear.
"Boston Harbor Hotel. Room two hundred and three. Will you come? Tomorrow night?"
I am seconds away...waiting to hear his reply when Murphy returns. I move away from Connor before Murphy can see the way my hands are shaking.
He says something about Connor leading me astray and I resist the urge to laugh.
I'm the one who is doing the leading...I think to myself.
Connor's eyes close, and then open again, and when they do, that fleeting look of desire and lust is gone, replaced by cold, bitter darkness. My smile fades as I see the mask slip back into place.
Murphy announces that they are leaving, and to my surprise, everyone in the bar shouts goodbye and wishes them luck. I want to ask why they need luck, but Murphy pulls me out the door before I can. Connor doesn't look at me, but instead walks ahead.
He waves down a cab and I get inside and give the guy the address of the hotel.
I hear the door being closed and see Murphy's head pop down to peer in and grin at me.
"It was nice talkin' with ya English. We'll see you around, alright? Stay out of trouble."
I smile at him.
"Right, trouble follows me around." I say, knowing he has no idea how much.
Murphy laughs, the sound echoing off the buildings.
"We all have that little problem, don’t we Conn?" Murphy looks back at his brother, who is leaning against the brick wall of a building, smoking a cigarette.
Connor's eyes meet mine.
"Aye...trouble." he says softly, and my whole body reacts with a warm flush of heat.
"G'night then!" Murphy says, stepping back. The cab begins to move and I look back, feeling those eyes burn into me long after they are a speck in the distance.
~
The quiet ride back to my hotel room gives me time to think. It’s strange, how a simple layover stop in Boston would yield such temptation. The alcohol that was singing in my veins only a half an hour ago has begun to wane, and when the cab stops and I look up at my hotel, I start to wonder whether or not being so bold was such a good idea.
What if he doesn’t come?
I step out of the cab, pay the driver and walk into the hotel, keeping my head down as I walk to the elevator. I am relieved when I manage to get inside my rooms without being recognized. The door closes behind me and I sag against it. All my exhaustion from earlier has returned, and all I want to do is peel off my clothes, take a long, hot shower and sleep.
I walk across the room, pulling my shirt over my head and throwing it on the floor. I skip along, pulling my jeans and boxers off one leg at a time. I walk into the bathroom and snap on the light and look in the mirror. Oh Jesus…I look like hell. Overseas flights and alcohol always do that to me. No wonder Connor was staring at me.
I pause, and watch my reflection. A niggling thought creeps into my mind. Could I have been wrong? Was what I was interpreting as desire merely confusion at the wild state of my hair and the black circles under my eyes?
I sigh and step back.
Fuck…I always do this to myself. I turn on the shower and step under the steaming hot water, trying not to think about it. I did my part…I made the first move.
God, I want him.
I turn around and let the water beat hard against my neck, feeling the pressure and relaxing.
No, I don’t just want him.
I need him.
~
I spend the morning arguing on the phone with the airlines. The next flight out of Boston to Los Angeles isn’t until Thursday, and I had a dinner I was supposed to attend tomorrow. My agent flips a nut when I tell her. She calls the airline a number of unsavory names and tells me she’ll cancel the dinner.
When I finally get off the phone, it’s already two o’clock. I call out for food and when it arrives, I walk out onto the balcony of my hotel room to eat. I sit and look out over the city, trying to forget about Connor. I fail.
Will he come? Had I come on too strong? I hear the far off wail of a siren and wonder where he is.
“Get a grip on yourself Orlando.” I mutter into the wind. “He’s just a guy you met. He’s nothing, you’ll have your fling and return to Los Angeles with a good memory.”
Suddenly I hate myself for thinking it. When had I turned into such an arsehole?
Worse than that, when had that tiny flickering thought entered my head that I wanted it to be more than just a one night stand?
I close my eyes and breathe in the air, high above the city. The last time I had let myself fall in love, it had been a disaster. Eric had said he was in love with me, but when my shooting schedule had gotten busy, he had gotten upset…said that my career was more important than him.
Then it happened.
I’ll never forget the way that day started…the fight…the way Eric screamed at me, telling me he never wanted to see me again…and when I left, my mind wasn’t on work. I wasn’t paying attention, I had been thinking about how I’d just fucked up a relationship with Eric, how I thought he loved me, and then… I fell. I fell out of that third story window and I almost died.
I step away from the balcony and take a deep breath.
I need saving. I need to *feel* again, I need to breathe.
~
I’m sitting on the couch, watching the hotel television, my eyes staring blankly at the images whipping across the screen.
He’s not coming.
I’m trying to convince myself that it doesn’t matter…but it does.
After an hour of waiting, I finally stand and stretch. It had occurred to me a while ago that I could just sort of “show up” at the bar…you know, look all innocent, while all the while I was desperate for a glance of him.
But I hadn’t left for the simple fact that he might come while I was gone.
But now, as I glance at my watch for the hundredth time, I realize that the only way of getting this gnawing sensation in my gut to go away is to find him.
I stand up, put my keys in my pocket and walk to the door.
When I open it, he’s standing there.
If I had been a light bulb, I would have exploded from the joy.
But my elation at seeing him vanishes in one painful snap.
His shirt and a part of his arm is caked with blood. When he lifts his face to look at me, his eyes are cold and dull. I reach out and took his shoulder, pulling him into the room and quietly close the door. He moves like a wraith, following me as I sit him down on the bed. I kneel at his feet and chew my thumb, unsure of what to say or do.
“Do you believe in angels?” he says, his voice so soft and so…broken.
I can’t answer him. I can’t break the silence…whatever happened to him, he still came to me. “Saviours?” he asks again.
“Connor…” I say, so unsure of myself. I think that if I touch him now, he will crumble into ash and I’ll find myself waking up like this whole thing was a dream.
"Will you be mine? Can you stop me from fallin' any further?"
His voice cracks, and he looks at me…his fingers twitching like he’s desperate…lost at sea…drowning…he’s drowning.
I do the only thing I can think of. I do the one thing that will make him come alive for me again, the only thing that will reach into that darkness surrounding him and save him from dying in it.
I kiss him.
For a brief moment, I think I have lost him. Then, like someone waking from long sleep, his arms wind around me and his whole body answers my kiss, sinking into my skin and pulling me against him…save me, save me…he’s screaming inside and I’m screaming too, losing myself in the maelstrom of his desperation.
It’s not just the simple need of skin on skin…it’s not just the feel of his hardness against my thigh…it’s more.
“Anything…” he says, and with those words, something inside me is released…some instinct that I don’t understand.
I don’t even know quite how I rip his clothes away, I have no idea how I myself come to be naked, but when his skin slides against mine, everything fits. Everything makes sense, nothing else matters but holding him and *making* him feel. I want to make him feel me, make him come alive again.
“Please…make me forget.” He says, his fingers digging into my hair.
“Forget what, your name?” I say, trailing my fingers over him.
“Everything.”
“Did something happen?” I ask softly, itching to help him forget.
His eyes close and I know he can’t tell me. I lean down and graze his neck with my tongue, searing a path along his skin, burning away whatever happened to him. I can hear his sharp intake of breath and in that one moment, I want nothing more than to bite him, to take away that pain and replace it with another…one that connects him to me…but I don’t. It’s too much…too soon.
Instead I let my hands take over, skimming down his thigh to grasp his cock in my hands.
“Jesus!” he hisses and I smile.
“Not quite.” I say, picking up the lube and slicking my finger with it. I look down at him, his chest rising and falling, his eyes closed.
“Ready?” I say softly, loving the way his eyelids flutter at my words.
“Yeah.” He gasps quietly. When I slide my finger into the tight ring of muscle, my eyes close and it takes all my will to be gentle. I can feel him shift under me, and I open my eyes and look down, his eyes lock with mine and he whimpers. I slide a second finger into him, and he arches off the bed.
“Please…”
The sound of his voice, ragged and gasping, nearly drives me over the edge.
I cannot stop my own voice from groaning a yes in response.
I lean down and sweep his mouth with a kiss as I move up, and then into him, sliding in, slick and hot, all the way inside him, biting lightly on his lip.
It’s fucking heaven, being buried inside him.
I’m surprised to hear that the moan I just heard was my own. I rest against him, seeing him smile.
Oh god yes…saving him…saving me…he’s too perfect, he fits me so well…too much…too much…I have to move or I will drown in him.
I bite my lip hard and rock against him, feeling his legs come up and lock behind my back, pulling me hard against him.
The familiar wildness surges into me, taking me over, demanding my body to obey, I can no longer control it.
I open my eyes and see him, writhing under me, his skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat, his mouth open, eyes wide as he looks at me. I want so badly to tell him everything, but words fail me. I want to call his name. Connor, Connor… But my voice catches, turns to a moaning sigh. I reach between us and take him in my hands, moving to the rhythm I have created.
His eyes go cobalt, his spine arches off the bed and I find heaven there when he comes, screaming my name until the sound is echoing everywhere, piercing into my mind and my heart…over and over I want to hear him call my name.
I am falling…coming so hard and hot inside him that I feel like I have emptied my soul into him.
I fall to the bed, my whole body shaking and shivering with the force of my orgasm, trying to regain my senses.
When the world rights itself again, I kiss him, tasting him, sliding my tongue against his, reveling in the taste that I want to memorize.
I look at him and realize that his whole body is pulled taut, his eyes wide as he stares at me, no longer dull and empty, but now filled with a fire that burns into me.
“Breathe, Connor…just breathe…”
~
I don’t know how long we lay there, tangled in each other’s arms, letting the slow waves of heat flow out of us.
I don’t know when or how or why, but I knew.
“I think I might be falling in love with you a bit, Irishman.” I say before I can stop myself.
He yawns and stretches.
“I think I might have already fallen.” He says, curling his fingers in my hair. His words float over me, lulling me to sleep.
There is no fear, only the promise of salvation.
He believes in angels, and I believe in saviours.
I saved him, and he saved me.
As he reaches down and pulls the blanket over us, I know my dreams will be sweet. I smile as we curl into each other, closing my eyes.
We have each other.
All we have to do is breathe.
FIN