January 31st, 2008
Title: Least Complicated
Notes: A catch up fic for fran_de_sales, as part of the damonaffleck NYDSE.
Unbetaed, since the deadline is in about three hours. With corrections delivered by email, from crimson_bride.
The kettle hissed, steam in the night, and Ben thought about hissing back at it.
"Stupid," he told himself. Mugs in the cupboard, coffee in the pantry, sugar on the counter. He should focus on the basics, like staying alive.
The liquor cabinet, around two corners, down the stairs, behind a keyed lock, burned a hole in his head.
He didn't drink anymore.
The kettle boiled, and he made himself coffee. He'd been dry for more than three and a half years, and it still hurt. He wouldn't be drinking his coffee down the stairs and around two corners.
The back deck of the house looked out over trees, the city glowing malignantly behind them. Ben balanced his mug of coffee on the railing and dragged a dusty folding lawn chair out, then set it up.
Common sense, of course, would indicate that caffeine was not the right response to insomnia, but until such time as downing shots of vodka became an option again, he couldn't think of another alternative. It was better to give up, and wait the dawn out, than to try and sleep when the inside of his head was jagged and raw.
He wasn't really cold, just cool enough that Jen's hands pressed warm through his robe, against his shoulders, when she leaned forward to kiss the top of his head.
"Did I wake you?" he asked, craning his head to peer up at her in the gloom.
She rubbed her nose against his briefly. "Had to pee," she said. "Someone was sitting on my bladder. And you weren't in bed."
The thought of the baby shone through Ben briefly, reminder of everything that was right with his life. He must have smiled, because Jen patted his cheek affectionately.
"Want some company?" she asked, lowering herself into his lap, so the folding chair creaked and settled.
They sat in silence, apart from the distant hum of pre-dawn traffic, until Ben said, "Matt rang yesterday."
Jen nodded, moving loose strands of hair against the stubble of his chin. "I thought he might have."
Jen didn't need to remind him of their agreement, it was pretty much carved onto his soul, from when she'd saved his life, pulled him back from the brink: Ben could tell her anything.
"He told me he was moving on, that he was serious about Lucy," Ben said. "Marriage and babies, that sort of thing."
"How do you feel?" Jen asked. "Given there's a diamond on my finger and a baby on the way here."
Ben nuzzled into Jen's hair, messing the braid she'd worn to bed. "It's one thing, you know, to step away from him, to say I need some space from the craziness right now, and another thing completely to have him say that it's over forever."
"Did he say that?"
Ben breathed in almond and honey, and the scent of Jen's sleepy skin. "I don't know. I got the feeling the words I was hearing were hers, not his, but that could just be ego, or self-delusion."
Jen nodded. "Lucy said something like that to me, something about it being time to make some things clear, to make sure everyone understood. She didn't tell me what everyone had to understand, but I'm guessing she wants to make sure she's in charge."
Jen clambered off Ben's lap, and held out her hand to him.
"Well?" she said.
Ben took her hand, let her pull him to his feet. "Well what?"
"You and Matt have never seen a boundary the pair of you haven't wanted to challenge. What are you going to do? Are you both just going to roll over for Lucy?"
Ben shrugged, and Jen paused while he slid the door to the deck closed and locked it. "I'm going to work out how to get through it," he said. "There aren't a lot of choices. Are you sure you want me to come back to bed? I'm not going to sleep."
"Neither am I," Jen said. "We can keep each other company, and at least it will be warm."
Matt found him, of course, after the Project Greenlight board meeting, in the car park.
"Hang on," Matt called out, and Ben flicked the remote to unlock his car, but he didn't open the door. Instead, he turned in time to catch the full force of Matt's hug, so that both of them collided with the car, an unwieldy combination of chins, elbows and side mirrors.
"Fucker," Matt said against Ben's ear. "You can't escape."
Ben attempted to extricate himself, balancing his laptop case on top of his car, and peeling Matt off him.
"What's wrong?" Matt asked, and he looked genuinely perplexed when Ben finally got some distance between them.
The knot between Ben's eyes tightened, sending pain right through his skull, sharp and hot. He really fucking wanted a drink.
"What's wrong?" Ben echoed, staring at Matt for a moment, before shaking his head. "I can put up with the business meetings, and the family stuff, and Jen and Lucy gossiping, and just about everything else. I can even deal with being dumped. But I don't think I can cope with the full body tackles any longer, not under the circumstances."
Matt grimaced, managing to look genuinely apologetic. "Point," he said. "And, yeah, sorry about the whole dumping thing. It was pretty poor taste doing it by phone."
"You've got history," Ben said. "At least you didn't just tell an interviewer."
"Ouch," Matt said. "Would you believe me if I said I was sorry, really sorry?"
The car park, lit by flickering fluorescent tubes, echoing their voices faintly off bare concrete, was empty, just the two of them and the rows of parked cars. Somewhere a security camera would be watching them, between the cars, but Ben wasn't sure he cared.
He touched Matt's cheek, pressing fingertips against the flushed skin. "I'd believe you," Ben said. "Why? Can you tell me that much?"
Matt's fingers circled Ben's wrist, and Ben was sure that Matt would be able to feel his pulse banging against the skin of his wrist.
"It didn’t work when we were together all the time," Matt said. "We tore each other apart, you had to go to rehab, and I was a wreck, too. So we tried you being with that crazy woman, and us being together, and it was a fucking disaster, and Jen had to rescue you that time." His fingers tightened, around Ben's wrist, squeezing the flesh, pinching the skin. "Now you're with Jen, and she's sane and normal, and she's having a baby. You deserve the chance to have that, without me fucking it up for you. And maybe I'm jealous, and I want to have that, too."
Ben swallowed, trying to get his mouth to work. "I miss you," he managed to say. "It fucking hurts."
The fingers tightened, the pressure twisting Ben's arm, making him bend his knees, forcing him down on the cold concrete, among the cigarette butts and discarded chewing gum.
"There's no one I'd rather hurt than you," Matt whispered, but the hand that touched Ben's jaw, lifting his face so Matt could look down at him, was gentle.
"Please," Ben said, and Matt slid his thumb into Ben's mouth, at the side, rubbing across his teeth, stinging the flesh at the corner of Ben's mouth.
Matt bent forward a little, bringing his mouth closer to Ben's ear, down below the level of the car roofs and the security cameras. "Are you hard?" Matt whispered.
Ben nodded, moving his mouth around Matt's thumb. He was, hard like the concrete beneath his knees, the weight of the moment crushing him as Matt's fingernails dug into his neck, in crescents of pain.
Matt was hard too, when he stood up straight, his cock pushing at the fly of his jeans, so close to Ben's mouth, so all he would have to do was lean forward…
Matt grabbed the front of Ben's shirt, pulled him to his feet, away from the temptation, and Ben took a shuddering breath in.
"Fuck," Matt sighed. "I've had some stupid ideas in my time, but thinking we could stop this is crazy. It would be easier to stop breathing."
Ben rubbed at his wrist, where Matt had marked him, and retrieved his laptop off his car. Agreeing with Matt seemed unnecessary. Better to drive away, leaving Matt standing in the car park.
At the first set of traffic lights, Ben shoved at his cock roughly, through his jeans, trying to rearrange it more comfortably, then rubbed at the filth on the knees of his jeans. He really, really needed a drink, right that moment.
He flicked his cell phone open and hit the speed dial for Jen.
"Hey, babe," she said. "Meeting over?"
"You home?" he asked. "Because if you're not, I can’t go there." He sounded desperate, to himself, so he would to Jen, too. He was desperate, for something--anything--to make it all stop.
Jen clicked sympathetically, her voice a little hollow over the distance. "I'm home, and I'll be waiting for you."
At home, Jen sat on their bed and watched him pace.
"So, he dumped you for your own good, and because he's jealous of what you've got with me, and maybe to appease Lucy? But now he realizes he's made a huge mistake, and he's regretting it?" she asked.
Ben tried to sit beside Jen on the bed, but his legs wouldn't let him stay still. "Matt's right, he fucks up my life when he's around, but…" He got down on his knees, in front of Jen, treacherously restless legs pinned underneath him. "It's not right to be putting you through this, none of this is fair. You deserve a real partner, not some fucked-up loser who is only ever one drink away from destroying everything."
"I have a real partner," Jen said, leaning forward to kiss Ben's forehead, right where his headache burned. "Someone who I love, and who loves me, someone who has been sober for four years. Do me a favor? Trust yourself. Maybe trust Matt a little, too."
"Trust him to do what?"
"Not to break your heart," Jen said. "Not after all this time."
Ben wound arms around Jen's waist, burying his face against the warmth of her skin. "Fuck, I love you," he said, his voice muffled. "You're an angel."
"You tell Matt, if he does mess you up, I'll have his balls."
* * *
Matt kissed Jen's cheeks when she opened the front door, and handed her a bunch of roses. "You're a doll," he told her. "Thank you, for arranging this."
"Where's Lucy?" Jen asked. "I thought she was joining us, after all the talking."
Matt hugged Ben, just quickly, but it was enough for Ben's gut to churn. He still couldn't quite believe that Matt was there, in the house, tossing his gym bag on the couch, dropping his jacket on top of it.
"We talked, she decided that she either trusted me now, or never, and she didn't need to keep an eye on me," Matt said. "I think she's relying on you for a full report." He grinned at Jen, then his gaze settled speculatively on Ben. "You know the rules?"
Ben nodded. Rules, negotiated over an excruciatingly difficult dinner at Matt's house, with Jen and Lucy arguing most of the time, while Matt grinned and rubbed his foot against Ben's calf, so that Ben was almost creaming his jeans before the dinner was through.
No genital contact. It had come down to those three words. Lucy didn't want them fucking. She didn't give a damn about anything else they did to each other, which just showed that she didn't have a fucking clue about Matt, or Ben, or anything that happened between them.
Did Ben care? Not one bit, not if it meant Matt was going to rest the palm of one hand against Ben's scalp and drift his lips across Ben's.
"Fuck," Matt whispered, when he'd lifted his mouth, and Ben was licking his lips.
"Yeah," Ben agreed, then Matt was gone, reaching for his bag, looking around the living room, then the dining room.
"Kitchen looks good," Matt said. "In there."
Jen, waiting in the hallway, roses abandoned on the hall table behind her, shook her head a little, and Ben touched her hand. "You don’t have to watch," he said.
"Are you kidding?" she said. "I'm not missing this for anything."
"It can be confronting," Ben said. "You do know that, right?"
Jen grinned, and her eagerness was a little disturbing. "Confront me, baby, I'm all yours."
"Ben!" Matt bellowed from the kitchen. "Get your puny ass in here now!"
When Ben slid into the kitchen, Matt was pulling his shirt off, over his head. "Get your gear off," he said. "Then on your knees."
One of the ladder-back chairs from the dining room waited for him, in the middle of the kitchen. Ben took a deep breath and dragged his T-shirt over his head and dumped his jeans and boxers on the floor, then carefully knelt in front of the chair, facing away from Matt.
Jen crouched down beside him, just for a moment, then she was gone, leaving him disappointed.
"Not moving well?" Matt's voice said, against his ear. "I wonder why that might be. You know what to do?"
Ben nodded. "Fingers for a break or a drink, both hands for a complete stop." He leaned forward, across the seat of the chair, bracing himself on his elbows, face against the ladder-back, hands holding tightly onto the frame. He wouldn't be lifting both his hands, no matter what Matt did.
"Close your eyes."
Ben shut his eyes, closing out the sight of the sink and refrigerators, the electrolyte replacement fluid Matt had put within easy reach, straw already in the open bottle, curtains with the strawberry print, and Jen, perched on the edge of the kitchen table, T-shirt riding up over her growing baby bump.
Matt's hands touched his back, stroking over his bare skin, tracing over his ribs, down his spine, back up again. Sweat beaded across Ben's forehead, prickling his skin, then Matt's hands were gone, and the gym bag rustled.
Something soft and pliable trailed across Ben's back, and Ben bit back a groan. A latex flogger, because Matt was a fucking tease. No one had touched Ben for months, and he'd thought Matt had gone forever, and Matt was going to warm him up with a latex flogger? Matt was a sadistic bastard.
"Just hurt me," he said. "Quickly."
The latex, cool and slippery against his skin, flickered out, then trailed up, and Ben guessed Matt had walked around in front of him.
"Shut. Up," Matt said, his voice hard. "Or you will be silenced."
Ben pressed his forehead against the ladder of the chair, and nodded his head, signaling acknowledgement.
The latex stung, quick and vicious, making Ben flinch, then Matt's mouth was back, against Ben's ear. "Do you want more? Is that not enough?"
Ben could smell Matt, smell the bare skin of his chest, the sweat, the pheromones pouring off him. If Matt had been naked, if it had been like before, then he'd be sucking Matt's cock, in between, letting Matt fuck his mouth. The memories alone were enough to have him achingly hard, then something sliced through the air, sharp and hard, landing across his ass, biting into the skin and making him cry out.
Matt didn't pause, he knew Ben didn’t need time, that he wanted it all at once, as hard as possible. Ben gripped the ladder-back of the chair, grunting with each blow, the pain burning through him, taking away all the times he'd craved a drink, every time he'd jerked off thinking about being fucked by Matt, all sliced and cut and driven away, until he had to hold his fingers up, just so he could breathe.
With the swish and grunt and slap stopped, Ben could hear his own breath, rasping in his throat, Matt's labored breathing behind him, and Jen's muffled gasps.
Jen. Fuck, he'd forgotten Jen was watching.
Something plastic nudged against his lips, and he sucked the sweet, cold liquid down, while Matt dragged carefully moistened fabric down his face, wiping away the sweat.
The drink was taken from him, and Matt's mouth pressed against his neck for a moment, then Matt whispered, "Good boy."
"More," Ben said.
Matt's hand cupped his jaw gently, for a moment. "I know," Matt whispered.
A touch of leather, on Ben's thigh, warning him where the next set would fall, then the swish of arm through the air and the smack of hard leather against skin.
Matt counted, one through seven, good and quick and hard, and when he stepped back, Ben was trembling, riding the high, hands clenched around the chair back, his whole fucking body screaming at him, begging for something--anything--to make it better.
Matt lifted Ben's head by a handful of hair, and said, "Look at me, Benny, I need to see you're still there."
Ben opened his eyes, because Matt had asked him to, and he loved Matt so much.
Matt smiled at him, a wolfish smile that made Ben's painfully hard cock jolt. "You made me come," Matt said. When Ben looked down Matt's body, past his sweat-streaked bare chest, to his hips, a wet stain was spreading across the front of Matt's jeans, and over the sweat and pain, Ben could smell Matt's come, thick and hot.
Matt rested Ben's head back against the chair back. "One more set, so close your eyes again."
Ben nodded, closing his eyes tiredly. One more set, then Matt was going away again.
Jen's voice hissed, just below Ben's hearing, and hands touched Ben's face, Jen's hands, wiping away his tears.
"Latex, babe," Matt said, warning Ben what to expect, and Ben let his shoulders sag a little in relief. They were cooling down, from the hard set, and Matt was letting him know.
The latex strands flickered, slippery and fast, across Ben's ribs, not hurting like before, but Ben's reserves were gone, and he couldn't have taken anything hard, not without breaking, and Matt had known.
Because Matt knew everything about him.
The latex stung and whipped, and Matt's hands dragged Ben's face up again, turning his head, and his mouth slammed against Ben's, kissing him hard.
Behind Ben, Jen said, "Is this right?" and Ben had a blinding moment of realization: if Matt was kissing him, then it had to be his Jen wielding the latex whip.
Matt wrenched his mouth off Ben's, leaving Ben's mouth raw, and said, "Harder, doll, harder, you won't harm him like that."
Jen grunted with the next blow, the latex slapping sharply across Ben's ribs, stinging him, and Matt's mouth was back on his, tongue shoved in hard, the two of them pushing him over the edge. Ben shook the chair back, wrenching the struts loose, bellowing against Matt's mouth, his body clamped down on the silicone shaft hidden inside him as he came.
Matt grabbed him, stopping him from falling, and Jen was right there, arms around him, holding him steady, too.
They got him as far as the bedroom, and Ben slumped across the bed, pulling Jen with him, the skin on his ass and thighs raw and burning. He should shower, put some salve on, but that could wait until he could get his body to cooperate just a little.
"Don't mind me," Matt said, draping himself across the bed, on the other side of Ben. "Just pretend I'm not here."
"You planning on watching, then?" Ben asked, holding one arm out, for Matt to slide in closer. Holding both of them, while still buzzing from being done, was about as good as it could get. He could feel the grin stretching his cheeks, the peace in his veins. "Because, while a little post-beating conjugal activity is not an impossibility--"
"You'd better be planning on fucking me," Jen cut in. "Because what happened was damned hot, and someone needs to be thinking about satisfying me soon."
"Make that a certainty," Ben said. "But you're still going to have to talk to Jen about watching."
Matt, by rolling partly across Ben's chest, got himself over close enough to whisper to Jen. "What do you want, Jen? Want me to watch you being fucked?"
Jen (lovely, not-crazy, not-mad, not-fucked-up Jen) propped herself up across Ben's chest and kissed Matt, long and slow and sweet, and it was just about the hottest thing Ben had ever seen.
Matt was grinning, when Jen pulled back, and she said, "Much as I could get into the idea of you jerking off while watching Ben and I fuck, how about I phone Lucy, see if this is something that she's comfortable with?"
Matt's grin twisted, possibly into admiration. "Classy," he said. "Ben, I can see why you love her, she's a complete bitch."
Jen settled herself back down, her head on Ben's shoulder, and Ben tightened his arm around her. "I'm proud of her."
Jen's fingers, on his thigh, traced the growing welts there, reminding him of each stroke. "What does it feel like?" she asked. "When Matt hurts you?"
Ben smiled at Matt, breathing in the familiar smell of him. "I don't ever want him to stop," Ben said. "It feels so fucking good. I just want it to go on and on, until I'm in pieces."
Matt groaned, sounding frustrated, and when he draped a leg over Ben's thigh and ground against him, he was hard inside his jeans.
"Go home, Matt," Jen said. "It's my turn."
Matt touched Ben's lips, and Ben kissed his fingertips. "Call me?" Matt asked, and Ben nodded.
When Matt had gone, banging the front door behind himself, Ben let out a deep breath. "Are we okay?" he asked.
Jen clambered over him, the movement shifting bedding against his raw skin, sending jolts of heat though his skin. She looked directly down at his face, hands pinning him against the bed. "That depends. Are you going to fuck me now?"
"Yeah," Ben said. "I'm good for that."
"Then we're okay."
Is c_b riding the kink bus today?
The request from the recipient wasn't an easy one. She wanted S & M, and she wanted in the context of the complex relationship network. At least, that's how I interpreted the request, but I might be completely wrong. Anyway, it was a tricky one.
riding the kink bus
Any bus you're driving, hon. Y'know.
*plans something egregiously weird*
Weird is fine. Sometimes the het is a bit... *shudders* :)
But the het this time was fine? Yes/No?
Het is dodgy to write. Especially when it was the het for that fake porno blog I was being paid to do.
But the het this time was fine? Yes/No?
Yes, fine. The porno blog is more the kind of thing that squicks.
|Date:||February 1st, 2008 10:13 pm (UTC)|| |
"Are you kidding?" she said. "I'm not missing this for anything."
Oh yeah baby!! That's hot. And it's been ages since I read some really good kink. This is awesome!
Wow. That was... very hot, yes, but I think the "complex relationship network" worked very well within the context of the story. It could easily have been an annoyance that felt tacked on, but it helped tie everything together. Good stuff as always.
|Date:||February 11th, 2008 07:18 pm (UTC)|| |
Oh and My ! Only you could drag me screaming to read this and it turned out GOOD. Yay us who had so little faith ;)