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For Those Amongst Us Without Sin

Posted on 2007.07.12 at 00:42

For Those Amongst Us Without Sin

Vincent Valentine/ Cid Highwind

Slash. Angst. Romance.

PG-13, some kissing

Drabble. Aeris has fallen, Vincent reflects… Cid helps…

 

 

                They watched as he gently lowered her body in to the crystal blue waters in the City of the Ancients. It was painful, heart wrenching almost, and he hadn’t known her all too well. Cloud was solemn and upset, understandably so, there had been rumors that he had fallen deeply for Aeris… and the fact that he too and tried to strike her down probably didn’t weigh easy on the young man’s heart. Vincent watched the procession with great interest, a mixture of sadness and resentment. He had watched as Sephiroth came down upon her like some angel of Death. Vincent shook his head and managed to not let out a derisive snort. Sephiroth was truly no angel, but the act he had witnessed weighed heavy on his own heart. For though those around him did not know, Vincent had once loved the woman who had given birth to Sephiroth, and now that he had witnessed this killing as well he felt another sin on his soul. He would have to atone some more… late in the night when no one was watching.

                They watched her body sink in to the depths of the water to finally land at the bottom of the pool… along with the strange material she had kept in her hair. She had told Cloud that it didn’t do anything, that it was special because her mother had given it to her. They walked away, Cloud talking to himself quietly… and Vincent lagged behind. No one would suspect him of stay here. So he kneeled down, thinking here was as good a place as any to make amends at least for this particular sin.

Our Father, who art in heaven, he said the words quietly, head bowed and hands clasped together, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever and ever. Amen.

                He was enrapt with his own self loathing and self pity that he didn’t hear the footsteps approach him. He gazed at the spot where Aeris’ body had disappeared to and realized she was probably the only person he had ever known who was completely good. Completely without any sin. He sighed softly and started when he felt strong, rough hands on his shoulders. The smell of cigarette smoke and tea assaulted him and he recognized the scent as something uniquely Cid. He stood up, pushing the other man away.

                “I must atone.” He said. He didn’t want to be distracted or anything like that. He just wanted to be left alone, to pray for forgiveness. To pray that more wouldn’t be added to his mark since he had let Aeris die just like he had let Lucrecia die. Cid’s eyes flashed.

                “Atone for what?” He asked. Cid was not a religious man but even he could see that Vincent was being ridiculous. Vincent bowed his head.

                “For not saving Aeris in time.” He admitted. Cid almost snapped.

                “There was nothing you could have done!” Cid snapped. “You were powerless to stop it, just like I was. The only person who has this sin is Cloud… he was the only one close enough to do something.”  Cid spat out. Vincent merely shook his head, turning his crimson gaze back to the water.

                “I must atone.” He intoned softly, more formally this time. He had hoped it would cause Cid to leave him alone once again, but the other man did not leave. He grabbed Vincent’s shoulder and whirled him around to face him. A thousand words flashed through his head as he tried to think of something to say to ease the man’s troubled mind. A thousand words completely left him as his blue eyes locked with crimson ones.

                He was completely without thoughts when he brought his lips to Vincent’s, kissing him tenderly and softly. Vincent’s gaze softened then… and when he stepped back, his façade cracked. He grabbed on to Cid, buried his head in the crook of the other man’s neck, and began to cry.


Compulsion- Ficlet for Jilly

Posted on 2006.04.05 at 21:12
Current Mood: gloomygloomy
Compulsion
PWP. Established Relationship. Dark-ish
Don Flack/Danny Messer

It was like a sickness; that was what Don thought every time he thought about his relationship with Danny. The love part was almost non-existent. The more Don thought about that, the more he realized it was more like an obsession. At the moment, Don was sitting on his couch waiting for Danny. His eyes were shut and he leaned back as he wrung his hands together almost nervously. He was getting twitchy and anxious. He longed to touch Danny, to feel him. He had a compulsion to touch Danny, like an unchecked urge that overtook him all the time. When they were at work he had to try his hardest to not touch Danny. It was hard though, because Danny had an undeniable pull to him that made Don want to melt into him, gather him up, and kiss him until there was nothing left but the two of them. Thoughts like that made him wonder if the love really did exist… Don scratched that though… he *knew* that he loved Danny, he just wasn’t sure if Danny felt the same way.

There was a knock on the door but then the door opened and Danny was there. He came in, shut the door behind him. There was no pretense, no idle or useless talk. Danny walked over to Don and sat down next to him. Don resisted the urge, but it took him over in a matter of seconds. He brushed his fingers along Danny’s jaw line, ghosted over his lips, tracing a path he had so many times before. He had memorized Danny a long time ago, long before they had even made love. Or had sex. Don didn’t know how to classify it any more. They had never said I love you, there was rarely gentleness in their sex. Don felt a breath catch in his throat as Danny threaded his hands into Don’s hair and pulled him in for a searing, biting kiss. It was always like this, rough and distant. Don repressed a sigh and kissed Danny back. He wanted it to be different, but he didn’t want to give up being able to touch Danny. Danny pushed Don back on the couch and bit his lip. They were pressed together and Danny started to unbutton Don’s shirt, exposing his skin inch by inch.

Danny had always undressed Don like he was unwrapping a present. It was always slow and careful. Don let out a soft moan as Danny’s lips trailed down his neck and chest. Don’s hands found their resting place on Danny’s back. He rubbed Danny’s back up and down. He slipped his hands up Danny’s shirt, feeling the warm soft skin beneath his fingertips. He sighed happily as he felt Danny’s skin. It was a familiar sensation but rare as well. He felt Danny’s lips and body, all the normal sensations… but the feelings were growing, he couldn’t stop them.

Everything about Danny was familiar and comforting. Don wasn’t sure why he was letting this go as far as it always did, but he didn’t want to stop Danny… he never wanted to stop this. Danny’s lips were back on his and he felt that his pants were being removed. Danny was spreading his legs and kissing his stomach. Don let out a low moan and felt Danny pull back. He started to remove his own clothing, leaving them both naked on the couch, pressed together, their bodies sliding against one another. He felt Danny’s hands slide between his legs and began to prepare Don. It wasn’t gentle or loving,. It was just on the edge of rough and only enough to open him up so it didn’t hurt as much. Before long, Danny was inside of him, pushing against him hard and fast. Don was gripping at Danny’s shoulders, moaning incoherently. Danny was letting out little whimpering sounds as he drove into Don. Don’s moans turned into shouts as Danny drove in harder, almost rough. Don bit back the words he wanted to say, how he wanted to tell Danny how much he loved him as he felt his orgasm getting closer.

His entire body was heating up even more as he shoved into Don harder. His body clenched and shuddered as his orgasm took him, filling Don. It wasn’t too long after when Don’s release took him over. Danny collapsed on to Don, panting softly. Don’s breathing was heavy as he rubbed Danny’s back and shoulders, willing his breath to calm down. Danny’s eyes fell shut after a few moments and Don struggled to keep his own open.

“I’m waiting for that final moment you’ll… say the words that I can’t say…” He sang softly, petting Danny’s neck some more. He was in love with Danny, that he knew. But he couldn’t risk it, couldn’t risk losing this… because admitting he loved him could drive Danny away... and he just had this compulsion to touch him.

Fic For Jilly

Posted on 2006.04.04 at 12:30
Title: PWP
Pairing: Danny Messer/Tim Speedle
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Slash... don't like it... don't read it.

“We shouldn’t do this.” Danny muttered into the lips pressed against his. The other man was pointedly ignoring him as the lips covered his in a heated kiss once again. His protests, which were minimal at best, were forgotten as he sank into the kiss, winding his arms around his companion tightly. When the fiery kiss finally died down, Danny pushed him away.

“We could get in trouble.” He whispered. The other man shook his head and caught his wrist, pulling him back to him and swooping in for another searing kiss. Danny sighed into it, exhilarated and worried. Once the kiss died down he stepped away again. “We have a case to work.” He said and he wondered if his companion was always so negligent in his duties. The dark haired man sighed and turned to the microscope, giving it a bit of a cursory glance. Danny sighed a bit, seeing his companion was going to be petulant now.

“I didn’t mean we shouldn’t all together…” He said. The other man looked up at him, eyes going a bit soft. Danny’s mouth opened but he couldn’t remember what he was going to say so he licked his lips and looked down at the floor. His companion sighed a little bit and looked up at him. He touched his chin gently and smiled a bit.

“Come on.” He said and he grabbed Danny’s wrist, leading him out of the trace lab. He discreetly took him down the hall and pulled out his phone. He dialed his boss’s number. “Hey…” He said into the phone. “I’m gonna take Detective Messer to his hotel for the evening and clock out…” He said and cocked his head. “Yes sir. Have a good night.” With a flick of his wrist, he snapped his phone shut. He gave Danny a rather cocky grin and led him to the parking lot. The drive to his hotel was short, silent, and charged with sexual tension. Danny was surprised he managed to keep his hands off of his companion while they were in the elevator. They made it up to his room with little incident and Danny locked the door behind him tightly.

About two seconds after he had shut the door he was pinned against it, his companion’s lips latched on to his neck and his hands skimming up under his polo shirt. He let out a surprised and pleased gasp.

“Oh god… Timmy…” He panted out. His eyes slipped shut as he gripped at the other man’s shoulders. He started to undo Danny’s pants, stripping him quickly. Danny returned the favor and soon both of them were naked. Tim ground against Danny hotly as they kissed. Tim grabbed Danny’s thighs and pushed him against the door, holding him up as he kissed him. He reached one hand down and started to prepare him gently. He prepared Danny expertly and then slowly slid Danny on to him.

Danny gasped loudly and squeezed Tim’s shoulder tightly as he slid in and out of him, hard and fast against the hotel room door. His fingernails were digging into Tim’s shoulders and he started panting out something incoherently. Tim bit down on Danny’s shoulder as he sped up. There was heat pooling into his stomach and he could feel his release getting closer and closer. Danny started panting out Tim’s name as he felt Tim move against his prostate, making his entire body tingle.

“God… Timmy… I’m so close…” He moaned out. That seemed to spur Tim on as he pushed a bit harder. Danny swore he could see stars as his orgasm tore through him forcefully. Tim’s release followed shortly after that and on shaky legs, he managed to set Danny down gently.

“Bed?” He asked and Danny nodded a bit dazed. Tim detoured to the bathroom and grabbed a towel, he wiped himself and Danny off and then collapsed into bed. He curled up close to Danny.

“Love you.” He whispered against his ear. Danny smiled softly.

“Love you too.”

The Christmas Party

Posted on 2005.12.19 at 22:02
Title: The Christmas Party
Fandom: CSI: NY

Pairing: Don Flack/ Danny Messer

Author: Alucards Kitten

Rating: NC-17

Summary: Mistletoe and alcohol. Shameless PWP.

Spoilers: None

Disclaimer: Don’t own, don’t sue.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Danny Messer was slightly tipsy. His cheeks were a pinkish color as he talked to Mac and Stella. Fearing a hangover, he had switched to coffee a few drinks ago. He laughed as Stella told some ridiculous joke and turned away to refill his cup that he had emptied. In spite of his efforts to battle the incipient hangover, he was still slightly drunk as the coffee hadn’t outweighed the alcohol yet. As he turned, he ran smack into his co-worker and friend, Don Flack. He gave him a goofy grin and a mumbled apology as he moved to turn away.

“Hey! Wait one second!” Stella crowed, slightly drunk herself. “You guys are underneath the mistletoe.” She mentioned, watching the two of them intently. Don looked down at Danny and Danny looked up at Don. It seemed like silence had befallen the entire room as all he could hear was the sound of his own breathing and the swell of the Heavy Metal Orchestra’s rendition of ‘Carol of the Bells’. Danny, still not quite sober, gave a one shoulder shrug and went to kiss Don on the cheek, however, Don had turned his head at that precise moment and their lips had collided. Danny colored slightly and shifted as he pulled away. There had been a spark though, Danny had felt it and noticing how shaken Don looked… he probably had too. Danny rushed off to refill his glass and tried to forget about the kiss.

----

Later on that evening, the party was winding down and Don was outside with Danny, waiting for the taxi that they had called about five minutes ago. Don was leaning against the wall, wondering if he had a cigarette somewhere on him. He had, for all purposes, given up smoking some time back but when he was lounging outside like this it always made him want one. Danny was leaning casually next to him, hands shoved deep into his coat pockets. Danny shifted and cleared his throat a little. He was trying to be completely casual and failing miserably… especially since he kept glancing over his shoulder like a crazed lunatic trying to make sure no one was around.

He shifted once more and gave Don what he hoped was a seductive smile.

“So…” He purred out, moving slightly closer as he dropped his voice to a sultry whisper. “Wanna go back to my place?” He asked. Don looked down at him for a second, blue eyes locking and something flashed there. Something that was a bit of fear mixed with a hell of a lot of wanting, because even though Don knew this could change their friendship completely, he also knew that this realm he was crossing in to would be so much better and more rewarding. Truth be told, the kiss had only solidified things he was pretty sure already existed; things that he had already thought long and hard on and the only thing that had ever stopped him from acting on those thoughts was his uncertainty of Danny’s willingness to explore that possibility… and the fact that rejection might cause their friendship to die completely.

But now that Danny had approached him first, ready to explore and test the waters… Don had no objections whatsoever. He gave a slight nod and in return, Danny had flashed him that heart melting smile Don knew that Danny usually reserved for his girlfriends. Don felt his heart flutter and urged the cab to hurry the fuck up mentally. Somehow it seemed to work as the yellow vehicle pulled up to the curb and halted to a stop, letting Don and Danny get in before requesting a destination. Danny gave his address and they sat in silence, listening to the Christmas carols on the radio. It was playing someone’s rendition of Joy to the World. Don paid the cabbie quickly when it stopped and they headed upstairs.

Danny unlocked the door to his apartment and let Don in, being polite and gentlemanly as he opened the door for him. Don walked in and thought about grabbing a beer, was almost to the kitchen when he remembered that it was going to be the two of them again… but not how he was used to. This wasn’t a game day or anything and as Danny quietly stripped himself of his jacket and shoes, Don swallowed hard as he tried to wrap his head around what he was about to do. Danny licked his lips and approached Don. He pulled him close and planted a slow sweet kiss on to his lips. Don let out a small whimpering sound. Danny deepened the kiss and subtly led Don to the couch. He fell on to it, pulling Don with him. He knew it wasn’t the most comfortable place in the world… but he couldn’t wait much longer.

Danny laid back, pulling Don on top of him and continuing to kiss him as he struggled to strip Don naked to view him in all his glory. Don moaned softly as he felt Danny’s hands on him, sure and slow. It didn’t take long before Danny had Don’s clothing off and most of his own off as well. They rubbed their bodies against each other, still kissing and Danny was rubbing Don’s back gently.

Don was whimpering at Danny’s touch as well as feeling Danny’s body pinned beneath his, but the time for being passive had ended and Don knew he had to take control. Something inside him clamored up and told him to make Danny be the submissive one. Don grabbed Danny’s wrists and pinned them down, leaning down to claim his lips in a rough kiss while he nipped on his lower lip. “God Danny…” He breathed out before he trailed his kisses down to his neck. Danny let out a soft moan as he felt Don’s hot lips on his neck. Don’s hands left Danny’s wrists and he moved one hand between his legs and slid one finger inside of Danny. Danny hissed and arched at the touch. His eyes slipped shut as Don finger fucked him. Don added a second finger and got a bit rougher. Don tried to hold off, but he had wanted to feel this for so long and he couldn’t resist. Danny’s eyes opened as he felt Don kneel between his legs and Don’s eyes locked with his, waiting for permission. Danny’s mouth was open as he let out panting breaths and he nodded. Don wasted no more time and he slid himself into Danny.

Danny let out a loud cry as Don rocked into him slow and steady. Danny clawed at Don’s back, trying to get closer. Don noticed how right it felt. He and Danny had never been on an actual date, but it occurred to Don that he spent more time with Danny than any girlfriend he had ever had. Game nights and drinks, dinners and movies. They could have been dating with how much they did together. Don snapped back to what he was doing as Danny let out another low moan, arching against him even more. Don continued to rock into him, getting harder and faster as he got closer and closer to climax.

Danny was rambling incoherently as his vocabulary had been reduced to several three and four letter words. Don grunted with effort as he felt Danny getting closer. He could tell by how he was tightening and getting more and more vocal and less understandable. Don leaned down to claim Danny’s lips once again as he rocked into him harder. Danny let out a strangled cry as Don hit his prostate and he climaxed. Don didn’t take too long after that and he moved off of him, balancing himself precariously on the edge of the couch until Danny regained his breath and moved onto his side. The two of them curled up together and fell asleep.
---

Danny woke up spooned against Don’s back and with a pounding headache. He knew it was the signs of a hangover, but he remembered everything that had happened. He snuggled up to Don closer and felt him stir, as though he was waking up.

“Mornin’.” Don mumbled and then spied the clock. He groaned a little. It was 3 AM and he was really uncomfortable. Danny blinked.

“Wanna move to the bed, Donnie?” He asked. Don nodded and they stood up and Danny stretched as he led Don to the bedroom. Danny licked his lips. “Ya know Donnie… I really love you.” Danny mentioned. Don grinned.

“Love ya too, Danny.”

~~End~~

Eyes That Lie

Posted on 2005.09.28 at 15:35
Eyes That Lie

Minor slash. House/Wilson. Ficlet.

PG, dedicated to Jilly.

It was a dark and stormy night, Dr. James Wilson thought to himself as he gazed out the window in Dr. Gregory House’s office. The latter was throwing a ball up in the air and catching it, mainly thinking to himself about the next obscure disease he was going to have to diagnose and cure. James couldn’t pull himself away from the window though. He was not in a very happy mood tonight. Of course, the way the week had gone he wasn’t quite surprised. It was a Friday night and he should have been heading home… but he had gotten to talking to House, so now… as it approached midnight, Wilson was still there, just sitting in a contemplative silence. Julie had left, but he hadn’t mentioned it to Greg yet. With Stacey now employed at the hospital there seemed to be no end to the tension. He drummed his fingers on the windowsill and felt hypnotized by the rain.

“What’s wrong, Jimmy?” Greg asked, stopping after he caught the ball once again. The over-sized red and gray tennis ball became James’ focus as he turned around. He couldn’t look Greg in the eyes. He knew if he did every shred of composure he had built up would be lost… and then he would have no choice but to confess everything. He would have to confess the sudden loss of Julie, the reasons she had become estranged, and his recent discoveries about everything he felt about Julie and other people in his life. Even if he did tell House that he had fallen out of love with his wife, he would assume he had fallen for the next cute piece of ass that had come to work in the hospital. He sighed softly.

“Nothing.” He responded softly. Greg almost didn’t call him on it. But James was his best friend and as much as he knew James didn’t want to talk about it, and even though it went against almost every creed Greg had about dealing with human beings… ignoring Jimmy’s problems when he so obviously needed to talk about them made him feel like shit. Of all the people in Greg’s life… James was the only one who had never left him. Even though he didn’t like to think about it much, the thing with Vogler was a true test of James’ friendship. Greg had messed up when he had totally screwed up that speech about his new pharmaceutical money maker. In fact, his screw-up had cost James his job. And even with that going on, James had made some calls for him and helped him out. He had been angry, but it had quickly dissipated. He tried to reason with himself that he had earned help from James by taking obscure cases that he had asked him to but when push came to shove… he would have done anything for Wilson anyways.

“Don’t lie to me, James.” Greg said, rolling the ball in his hands. James looked at him, something lurking in his eyes that rang different from the sadness and the pain. Their eyes locked, meeting for the first time that night. James was the first to look away, sadness and pain giving way to shame. He licked his lips and closed his eyes.

“Julie.” He said finally, after he could no longer take the feeling of Greg’s eyes burning into him, seemingly searching his soul for the answers he wanted. Greg didn’t really need any more of an explanation than that—he wasn’t stupid so he could see the signs. Pity welled up in him and he squashed it down, knowing James wouldn’t want that. His heart broke as he looked at the sad and defeated slump of James’ shoulder.

“I guess that old adage isn’t true.” Greg said, setting his tennis ball back on his desk. James looked up at him again. “Third time’s a charm.” He explained. James didn’t look amused and Greg realized too late that it was no time for a joke… but he didn’t know how else to be. He wrote everything off with a sarcastic variant of humor that made it harder for him to take things seriously making it harder for him to get hurt. But James wasn’t like that. The man might have had a steel pole for a spine, but he was sensitive and aching. The look that flashed in his eyes made Greg shake his head and declare himself stupid.

“Guess not.” James finally said, trying to dispel the sadness he felt. It didn’t work and he returned his gaze to the window. The night seemed to stress the mood in the office. Greg stood up and moved behind James, wrapping his arms around him. He felt James sort of lean into the touch.

“I’ll never leave you Jimmy.” Greg soothed gently, petting his abdomen light. He felt James cross his arms over his stomach, trapping Greg’s hands there.

“I know.” He said softly. “It’s the only thing that keeps me going.” He admitted. He removed his arms and turned around to face to Greg. Their faces were inches apart and James kissed his lips softly. “You’re the only one who truly loves me.” Greg gave him a soft, sad smile.

“You’re the only one who loves me too.”

~End~


^_^

Posted on 2005.09.08 at 00:20
Since it was too long to post here as one entry I've decided to given you all a link to my largest fanfic project EVER.

Here is the synopsis:

Disclaimer: I own nothing. CSI: Miami and CSI: Crime Scene
Investigation belong to whomever they belong to. The songs belong to Enigma and Micheal Cretu.

Synopsis: Angst fest. Tim loves Eric and Eric doesn’t love him. It’s Horatio to the rescue… sort of. (Timothy Speedle/Horatio Caine)

Archive: Long as you ask and make sure my e-mail address is with it... :)

Pairing: Horatio Caine/Timothy Speedle

Rating: R because of allusions to sexual content and very little
strong language. Rating will probably go up later due to sexual
content. (LOL)

Authors Notes: This was supposed to be a Eric Delko/Timothy Speedle
fic but for some reason it didn't work out. Then I was going to make
it Speed/Greg Sanders-- but my muse demanded that I write a
Horatio/Speed fic. So, here is the first part and I hope you enjoy.
(Be forewarned... it takes me a long time to post the chapters
afterwards... LOL. I'm bad about that...) Ah, and it is extremely
disjointed... it's supposed to be.

Here is the link:

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2569803/1/

Ficcie for Jilly

Posted on 2005.09.08 at 00:06
A Kiss to Build a Dream On

Mac Taylor/ Horatio Caine

Slash. AU. Mac says goodbye…

PG-13 for some kissing…

Dedicated to Jilly

Mac Taylor sat on his couch, nursing the last few drinks of his now warm Labatt’s as he listened to Horatio Caine washing his hands in the bathroom. It had been a long day and an equally long evening… but now he was finally home with his esteemed guest from Miami. Lieutenant Caine was a very stunning man, with a beautiful mind and such a compassionate heart. Mac let out a sigh… he hadn’t felt this way about someone since… Claire. He closed his eyes for a second and opened them when he heard the bathroom door open. Horatio sat down on the couch with a soft smile. Mac smiled back and tossed the rest of his beer back. He set the bottle on the table and looked over at Horatio. With a small smile in return he looked away and stood up.

“You’re leaving tonight?” He asked rubbing his chin softly. He was looking out the window at the twinkling stars that were starting to dance as the twilight faded.

“Mmmhmm.” Horatio responded, standing up as well. Mac nodded, eyes still fixed on the outside. He smiled softly as he spied Horatio’s reflection in the window.

” Give me a kiss before you leave me.” Mac sang softly, loud enough for Horatio to hear though. “And my imagination will feed my hungry heart.” Mac kept singing, he turned around to face Mac only to see that the other man was right there, inches from his face. Their lips met in what seemed to be an unspoken agreement. Electricity sizzled between the two, but it was over just as soon as it began. Horatio licked his lips.

“I have to go or I’m going to miss my flight.” He said as he moved away and shrugged on his jacket. He waved his hand in parting… but then took two steps forward and kissed Mac again. It was swift yet full of promises. “I have some vacation time I haven’t used.” He said before he turned and walked out the door. Mac smiled a goofy grin at the door.
“Leave me one thing before we part. A kiss to build a dream on.” He sang softly as he turned to continue looking at the stars, feeling happy for the first time in a long time.

Walls of Ice

Posted on 2005.08.25 at 00:21
Walls of Ice

Danny Messer/ Mac Taylor

‘Washes the ground with so many tears.’ Based on the song Scarborough Fair-Canticle by Simon and Garfunkel. Slash. Angst.

Dedicated to Jilly, because she wanted some smut.

I.

He couldn’t recall an occasion… not one… where he had actually cried. Not when he had watched innocent men get gunned down when he was such a young man… not even when Claire’s life had been taken away from him so cruelly and way too early. Simply, this was proving to be way too much for him. It had all started with the Dirge case. Kevin and Kimberly Dirge were the son and daughter (respectively) of Allan Dirge, the CEO of a huge corporation. They were twelve and nine respectively and they had both been kidnapped from the mall where their nanny had taken them for the afternoon. It would not have been so bad, he assumed, if it hadn’t been so near Christmas. They had been snatched from the mall on December 21st and the call had come in almost immediately… and as everyone knows the first 24 hours on any crime scene is crucial… even more so in a kidnapping case. But whoever had done this had been very, very slick… because there were no traces of anything. There were no finger prints, no distinguishing marks on the ransom note, nothing. However, being the businessman he was… Allan Dirge refused to pay the ransom… instead he put his faith in the New York Police Department. But even Mac, such a skilled investigator, could find no trace of either child. After the first seventy-two hours it was pretty much a bust, but Mac had been positive that they were still alive and that he would be able to find them. It was now the 23rd of December and things weren’t looking very good. Then suddenly there was a breakthrough, the kidnapper sent another note telling where the ransom drop-off was to be. So, being the good cops they were, they all decided to go undercover. The date was set for the 25th of December, but that note kept Mac’s hope that the kids were alright alive.

Christmas morning was cold, even for New York, and eerily quiet as they went on the outskirts of Manhattan to make the drop. When they got to the drop point there were two beautifully wrapped six foot by six foot packages. A feeling of cold dread filled Mac’s stomach as he got out of the Envoy. There was no one around… and he was beginning to feel, with some certainty, that this hadn’t been a drop at all… more like an excuse to get someone out here. As much as he wanted to tear open the paper and see what was inside, his investigator side told him to follow procedure. He immediately taped off the area as a crime scene and he put on his gloves, carefully removing the bows and paper as not to rip anything and possibly destroy some trace evidence. He knew something had to be there because of Locard’s Exchange Principle. When he had removed the paper from around the packages, he realized that they were coffins… expensive ones from the looks of it. They were both sleek and black and Mac knew he would have to print it… but his priority for now was to open them. He closed his eyes to steel himself for what was in there. Then, he opened the first coffin. It was as he feared… Kevin Dirge was in the coffin. There was a bullet wound between his eyes, stippling around the wound, and blood spatter on the coffin. He breathed in deeply and moved to the next coffin… inside he found Kimberly Dirge… and saw she had received the same treatment. It had stuck with him; even months later where they still had no leads.

That was just a first… where it had all started. Over the past several months each case had been hitting him harder and harder and he wondered if it had to do with age, but he knew the true reason. For too long he had kept so many things bottled inside of him. From those deaths a long time ago in Vietnam… to the death of his beloved wife… and the death he saw day in and day out at his job had finally gotten to him. He had bottled the emotions he had pushed back for so long. Soon he just pushed everything out of his mind, because it became too hard to sort through the emotions and pull out the correct one. Some would say he had become soulless… but the depths of torture that echoed in the distant recesses of his mind shone through his eyes and were as clear as day to anyone who looked. But seldom anyone did… and those who did indeed look… they never looked close enough. So, that was how he had gotten to here… sitting in a bar that smelled like stale smoke and vomit and even staler beer… a bar where no one knew him and he was sure no one ever would as he blended in with the countless other souls who had come to drown their sorrows… with silent tears streaming down his cheeks and muffled sobs racking his body. Well… he *was* sure no one would recognize him… until the bell above the door tinkled a new arrival and even in the dim and scuzzy light Mac could tell who it was. The profile was so familiar that he drew in a deep breath and hoped to god that the man wouldn’t recognize him. He felt dirty and sleazy in this bar, sucking down cheap beer and crying like a baby. But those blue eyes caught his own and a wave of sympathy rolled in them that made Mac take in a shuddering breath and have no choice but to wave him over. The man grabbed his drink and sat down across from him. He made no overtures of conversation, just sipped his beer and studied him with a gaze so intense as it had been perfected from too many crime scenes. Mac tried to ignore those ice blue eyes boring into his soul it felt like. It was a penetrating gaze that he felt could see all the way into the most hidden desires in his mind. The other man licked his lips.

“Wanna talk about it?” He asked all of a sudden, his thick New York accent breaking the sort of strange trance-like state Danny’s eyes had put Mac in. Mac took in a sharp breath and looked startled, his eyes which had been half closed opened wide as he looked at Danny. Their eyes met and for one brief moment, Mac thought about spilling everything to Danny… every doubt and insecurity… every ounce of pain he felt for the victims and for himself… but Mac had to force himself to look away and once that connection was broken… so was his desire. He waved his hand dismissively and shook his head in a silent rejection. Danny merely nodded and looked down into his mug of beer, tracing senseless patterns into the icy frost and condensation on the outside of the glass. He placed both hands on the tabletop after a moment… and just stared into his mug of beer like the amber liquid held the answers to life’s most difficult questions. Mac wrung his hands together nervously as his beer mug was empty and he had nothing to distract him now. His tears had started falling again and he couldn’t help it anymore. The alcohol had finished breaking down his inhibitions.

“All my life… I built these walls of ice around me.” He said softly. “And now I’m in the line of fire and they’re breaking down.” He said. And Danny’s soul cried out because it was so sad and poetic. He looked up from his mug though and watched Mac, blue eyes flickering over him intently. He waited for him to say something again. “It’s like that song…” He started again. “’And to fight for a cause they’ve long ago forgotten…’ what do I keep fighting for, Danny? I’ve… I’ve lost everything that meant something to me.” He admitted, his body shaking again with years of pent up rage and frustration and sadness. Danny didn’t know what to do at first, so he left his seat and slid into the booth next to Mac and rubbed his back gently, trying to comfort him. The tears and shaking became worse and his sobs weren’t quiet anymore.

“It’s okay, baby… let it all out.” Danny encouraged him and kept rubbing his back to keep him grounded. Mac sobbed and shook for the better part of fifteen minutes, just releasing years of tears. Mac turned so he was facing Danny; he looked so vulnerable with his tear streaked face and red puffy eyes. Danny cupped Mac’s cheek in his hand and brushed his thumb across his cheekbone. “Its okay baby lets get you home.” Danny said and he slid out of the booth… helping Mac to his feet and paying the bartender ignoring Mac’s protests. He helped Mac out to his car and was pleased to see that Mac had taken a taxi out here. The spring night was sticky and humid on the drive from the bar to Mac’s place. Danny had parked the car and decided to walk Mac to his apartment… more to make sure that he went inside and got in bed as opposed to leaving and going back to the bar… he was sure Mac had had quite enough. They stopped in front of his door and Danny bade Mac goodnight and turned to walk away. A firm grip on his wrist stopped him.

“Stay with me tonight.” Mac asked, sounding meek and depressed… sounding so lonesome and scared that Danny couldn’t refuse. He nodded and turned back around, his eyes meeting Mac’s once again. Mac’s eyes shone with so much emotion that if Danny had been able to refuse before, he definitely couldn’t now. He nodded again and Mac let them in the apartment. It was very Mac. It was clean, pristine… almost not lived in. But there were touches of the man who called it home. There were no photographs, but there were forensic magazines littering the coffee table… and a book on trace evidence collection techniques opened on the kitchen table as well as a notebook with neatly penned notes. The apartment didn’t look extremely lived in, but it exuded Mac from every pore. From the faint scent of Old Spice lingering in the air to the numerous forensic related stuff on the tables and on the bookshelves. He smiled at it, a faint smile that was overshadowed by the oppressive weight of the pain that hung in the air like smog. Danny walked Mac to his bedroom and looked away politely as he disrobed. He licked his lips.

“If you need anything… I’ll be on the couch.” He said reassuringly. He moved back into the living room and laid on Mac’s couch. The clock was saying it was 1 A.M. Danny flipped on Forensic Files and kept the volume down. The next thing he was aware of was that damn Psychic program and Mac sitting on the couch, watching him sleep. He jumped a little and cussed.

“Fuck!” He exclaimed, focusing on the clock. It was only a little after 2 A.M. Mac looked down at the ground, ashamed and looking sorry.

“I… I couldn’t sleep. Nightmares.” He explained briefly, still looking at the ground. “I… I was wondering if you’d lay with me…?” He asked, his voice had dropped and his tone had taken on a little boy lost overture. Danny nodded.

“Sure.” He said softly. He stood up and clicked the television off. He followed Mac into his bedroom and shed his button-down shirt and work pants. He felt exposed in just his boxers and undershirt, but he couldn’t very well sleep fully clothed. Mac was in a pair of flannel pajama bottoms that clung in all the right places… and Danny couldn’t help but stare… if his observation was correct… that was *all* Mac was wearing. Danny crawled into the bed, covering himself up because Mac’s room was chilly with the air conditioning on. Mac closed the bedroom door and shut off the light. Danny took off his glasses and set them on the bedside table. As his vision focused on not being corrected and to the darkness, Danny felt the bed press downward as Mac crawled in. He too burrowed under the covers and Danny was suddenly and intimately aware of the heat radiating off of his companion. For Danny, it had been too long since he had shared a bed… and even longer since he had shared it with someone as radiant and compelling as Mac. Mac was rolled over on his side, facing away from Danny and he was sure that if Mac wasn’t already asleep… then he was watching some painted out scenario on the otherwise blank wall. Danny was facing the ceiling but then he turned, facing the same way Mac was. He knew he shouldn’t do this because now he was aroused and aching… but he moved ever so slightly and spooned behind Mac, wrapping an arm around him deftly to help block out the nightmares. Mac made a small sound and pushed back into Danny’s more than willing embrace. Danny began to stroke his hand up and down Mac’s abdomen and chest, feeling the hair that curled around there. He buried his nose into the crook of Mac’s neck and breathed in the scent deeply. He loved this… it was so comfortable and erotic. His arousal grew noticeably and he heard Mac let out a small moan. Danny flushed and tried to move away. Mac shifted, turning so he was nose to nose with Danny… and then he kissed him… hot and hard. The kiss soon turned soft and gentle as Danny began to rub Mac’s back gently… more than just friendly strokes from before though. These were grasping and needy… wanting and begging. Mac was a little surprised at first at the emotions Danny could convey with just a few well placed scratches and moans, but it wasn’t long before Danny was kneeling between his legs, kissing him soundly while rubbing their still clothed erections together. Mac whimpered as Danny teased him, but Danny pulled away and pushed the clothe of Mac’s pajama pants out of his way to shove his hand into Mac’s pants and jerk him awkwardly from the angle he was at. Mac could sense his discomfort, but didn’t have the will or desire to stop Danny from what he was doing. It wasn’t long before he felt the cool air hit his fevered body and Mac realized that sometime in all of that… Danny had removed his pants.

Danny was stroking Mac’s hips and making little sounds of approval as he gazed at the now completely exposed body of his boss and soon to be lover. He leaned down to suck on Mac’s hip, sighing with contentment as he tasted the salty skin there. He trailed his kisses lower, licking teasingly at his thigh. Mac let out a low seductive growl and Danny licked teasingly at the tip of his erection which was oozing pre-cum. Mac let out a surprised and sharp gasp and his hips bucked up a little bit. Danny planted his hands firmly on Mac’s hips and held him down, licking and suckling at him in a teasing fashion, watching Mac struggle to get more and squirm beneath him. He finally couldn’t deny himself any longer and he took Mac’s erection into his mouth, inch by inch. Mac let out another surprised gasp as he watched himself disappear into Danny’s eager mouth. Danny worked him expertly, combining deft hand movements and things with his tongue Mac barely had a mind dirty enough to *dream* about. So, it came as a great shock to make when suddenly he felt one slightly slicked finger start to tease and stretch him, seeking entrance. Mac loosened his body as best he could, willing for Danny to make love to him and so overwhelmed with sensations he wasn’t sure how long he was going to last. Another finger joined the first… and Mac found himself getting lost in the sensations… he was sure he was moaning now but he couldn’t tell how loud. And then all of the sensations stopped. Danny had begun to reposition himself. In Danny’s mind, two fingers were enough because he couldn’t bear to hold on any longer.

When Danny sunk into Mac, inch by inch, it felt like some small part of his soul was completed. The feelings that raged inside him were so strong and powerful it was like his own private utopia. He fit inside Mac like they were two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle finally put together by the steady hand of fate. Danny cried out as he finally had himself seated all the way inside Mac. Mac’s body was trembling beneath his and one look down into Mac’s eyes revealed that he felt the same thing that Danny had… that same completeness. In a blur, everything came into sharp detail and every feeling seemed to be heightened… and Danny began to move inside Mac, thrusting into him as slowly and sensually as he could. But his control couldn’t last very long in circumstances such as these. Somewhere along the time they had started, Mac had begun to rake his fingernails down Danny’s back. His breathing had become less steady, more erratic and shallow, and Danny began to thrust into Mac faster and harder until it felt so fast it was going at light speed. The rest of the world melted away and it was only him and Mac, combined in the most sacred of rituals. It felt more than just physical, it felt like their spirits had connected. It was over far too soon as Mac shuddered beneath Danny and he felt a warm splash across his stomach. Danny didn’t last long after that and he filled Mac before collapsing on top of him, the orgasm sending little shockwaves of pleasure through him for a few minutes afterwards. After a few minutes of heavy breathing, Danny rolled off of Mac and watched him, blue eyes still dark with lust.

“Keep fighting for me, Mac. I love you.” Danny said. Mac’s eyes opened slowly. The pain wasn’t gone but it had faded, a sparkle of love battling the darkness of a thousand tears.

“I love you too.”

~Fin~

Ficcie

Posted on 2005.07.20 at 01:11
He spends his nights counting dots on the ceiling… because he can’t sleep. One by one, he counts them down to where he is sure he almost has them all counted. Ticking by, they swarm in his vision… they haunt him as he stares. It’s creepy, almost surreal. But he can’t look away. He can’t stop counting them. It’s the only thing that keeps him sane late into the night when sleep threatens to take over and the first shreds of a nightmare creep into his mind. Then the dots blur and become something else. He can almost see faces formed in the dots, laughing at him. His parents and siblings, his co-workers. Especially his co-workers. His quality is slipping. His job performance started steadily decreasing when all of a sudden he was plagued by nightmares and had resorted to counting dots on the ceiling and drinking coffee to stay awake. Of course *they* wouldn’t understand. But tonight he had a respite from his dots. Tonight… he had someone by his side to keep the nightmares away. He didn’t even know his name, he only knew he was young and too smart to be doing what he was doing. They had talked, for quite a bit, before he had finally offered him home. The steady breathing next to him kept him occupied as he counted each exhalation. Just another crutch to lean on… just another thing to keep his mind off the inevitable. That he needed to sleep or he would die. He closed his eyes, waiting for those nightmares… but none came that night.

And it became a tradition now. Every night he’d go to a different bar and pick up a different guy. And soon he started choosing guys that looked like the object of his affection… his subordinate that he could never tell. At first it was just the blonde hair thing… and then blue eyes… and then glasses. And he found about a thousand guys who could almost be his twin but the shades in their hair were different… the glasses were strange… the eyes weren’t quite as blue. And every time he took one home, he kept trying to build them into something perfect, something he *really* wanted… and they never were. Their body would be slightly different… to thin or too cushy. But it was SOMETHING… something aside from dots on his ceiling that blurred with sleep and time. And he was getting better, back on par, back in the game. But now he never worked with *him*. When he even looked at him he felt dirty, dirty for trying to place people in his image. For letting these boys who looked a bit like him fuck him and pretend to love him. He felt dirty for even looking at him now.

But these guys he took home, they didn’t mind anymore. He didn’t mind anymore. He’d let them fuck him and he’d call out a name softly, so softly it was almost inaudible. And he never screamed… he never did anything more than let out a small grunt when he climaxed… he never fucked the boys he brought home. Because that he would save forever for the one he loved. His precious Danny.

Little sad ficcie dedicated to Jilly

Posted on 2005.07.13 at 02:05
It was a flat, very small piece of metal. Scrap metal, he was sure. But it meant the world to him. It was everything he had left. *All* he had left except for a folded flag that still made him bawl his eyes out if he just glanced at it out of the corner of his eye. He was holding it in his hand and it was so light, but it felt so damned heavy it hurt. His fingers, shaking as they were, ran over the embossed inscription, almost as if he was reading Braille. He didn’t need to read it anymore, didn’t need to touch it… to know what it said. Tears were streaming down his cheeks again, because he couldn’t look at this without crying either. He closed his fist around it and thought about tossing them out the window, but the whole thing was so sentimental that he couldn’t bear to get rid of it. The silver chain hung down around his hand as he clutched the tags so tightly he was sure the metal edges were cutting into his palm. It wouldn’t be the first time some simple pain helped him get his mind off the pure anguish he was feeling. He finally released the death grip and finally brought his blue and watery eyes to gaze upon the metal in his hand.

Seeing the name brought a fresh wave of tears on. A fresh wave of what felt like someone ripping his heart out through his mouth like so many times before. It never got easier… it never felt like it was getting any better. In fact, it almost felt like it was spiraling down even more. It was almost impossible to accept… in fact, it felt improbable… and it felt like the worse thing that had ever happened. He held the tags up in front of his face, watching them intently until they became an unrecognizable blur. A blur that was quickly distorted even more by tears. His vision was swimming as he kept staring. He closed his eyes against the vision before him and bowed his head softly. His voice echoed in his head, that soft baritone voice that seemed to haunt his every waking thought. And even when he slept he heard it as he dreamed. In fact, he never stopped hearing it. Ever. He wrapped his arms around himself, the tags warm against his suddenly chilled skin and he began to sob. Choked sad sobs that racked his body and he could never recover from. He felt like he could still feel his hands and his body, he could still feel his voice and breath tickling his ear in the early break of dawn as they laid together, waiting for the alarm to go off and single their release from bed. His hands shook even more, causing the necklace to sway back and forth on his arm.

He decided he had to take action… he needed to talk to someone. Someone who he didn’t know… someone who wouldn’t betray him. He knew of a group that helped recently widowed spouses get over their grief. His wasn’t recent, though it was only a few months ago. He licked his lips and left the house. He found the place easy enough and went into the room, glad to see their meeting had just started. The people looked friendly enough and as introductions started, he listened to people tell their stories. He was nervous, though, when they finally got to him because he had been listening and no one else here had admitted to being gay… but, he wasn’t about to betray his dead lover by pretending he was a woman. He was wearing the tags now, the cool metal acting as a pillar of strength.

“Hello.” He started softly. “My name is Danny Messer and my husband died in the line of duty.” He started. He saw no cruel looks, no jokes on anyone’s lips, just mutual grief and understanding. “He was killed a few months ago. We were trying to bring down a gang and the leader got a little gun happy.” Danny drew in a shuddering breath as the tears started falling. “I don’t think he felt any pain, because the guy shot him almost right between the eyes. We… we collared the guy, but it didn’t bring him back… and it didn’t help me at all.” His voice was getting thick with sadness. “I… I cry every night… and some mornings I’ll wake up and think he’s just out of bed making coffee until I see that folded flag hanging up in my living room.” He swallowed thickly. “And then I’ll notice other things like… his cologne doesn’t linger in the air anymore… you know… stuff like that.” Danny trailed off as a fresh wave of sobs came over him. A young lady next to him rubbed his back gently.

“I’ve been here for five years, it never gets any easier.” She said softly. “It still hurts every day you wake up… every time you turn around you expect them to be there and he isn’t. The important thing to remember is to think about the good times and make sure you carry on his legacy. He may be dead in the physical world, but don’t let his spirit die… ya hear?” She said. And he thought that was a great idea. After the meeting, he felt a little better, he could breath a little easier… but it wasn’t easier. He walked into his house and he could smell the faintest bit of his cologne. He smiled, a soft melancholy smile and pulled out the dog tags from beneath his shirt. He touched the name softly.

TAYLOR, MAC JAMES


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