New: Traveler fic.
Aug. 6th, 2007 10:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
castalieTransformers was seen today. I thought the film was OTT, cheesy, kinda lame and so very cliched but a) I wasn't expecting anything different, really and b) hee the autobots were so awesome that I didn't even really care too much. Plus, you're not supposed to take that kind of film seriously, so it's okay. Anyway, back to the autobots – though Optimus Prime was all kinds of awesome, my favourite was Bumblebee. Love you, 'bot! They all looked shiny and cool and I really loved them. Twas fun :-)
Also, how many familiar faces were there in that film! There was PB!Sucre! Las Vegas!Danny! And hee there was even Andrew!Buffy! Etc etc...
And now for something different, I offer fic. In a fandom that's sorta nonexistent, ie the show was cancelled after only eight episodes but, you know, sometimes the Muse decides to play and you just have to shut up and write what he wants, so here is my Traveler fic:
Title: Heavy Taboo
Pairing: Jay/Will/Tyler
Rating: R
Word Count: 5100+
Summary: It's two weeks after the ending of "The Exchange" - trying not to be too spoilery here - and the boys have to pick up the pieces of their relationship.
Spoilers: The whole season.
Thanks go to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
starwatcher307 who's always there to help me with my fics, even when she has no idea about the fandom she's reading *kisses*
The betrayal of trust carries a heavy taboo - Aldrich Ames
They don't talk about 'it' for a couple of weeks. At first Will supposes it's because they just don't have the time, or the luxury; their plan went up in smoke - quite literally - and they need to recoup, to hide again, to breathe a little.
They need time to accept that things aren't going to get better for a long time - if they ever do - and to think of a new way to try and make themselves heard.
Then as days pass, maybe they're all just too wary of what might be said. Resentment and hurt are thick and heavy in the air; sometimes Will feels as if he could choke on it.
But he doesn't say anything, never tries to reach out to them. Maybe he's waiting for Jay or Tyler to make the first move. Or maybe he's just hoping that, if he ignores it, they'll just let it go. Denial was always said to be the weapon of the weak, and Will has never shied away from reality. But - just this once - he wouldn't mind making an exception.
Jay and Tyler both tiptoe around him - sometimes barely friendly, sometimes downright angry, but always wary. They seemed to have reached a status quo right before the bomb exploded and killed Freed, but now it seems that their hopes of possibly getting their lives back went up in flames with him.
Will knows something is broken that may never again be fixed. He tries to convince himself that it doesn't matter, keeps telling himself that it doesn't hurt.
Besides, he was never supposed to feel anything for them in the first place. So what if they hate him now? So what if they continue to look at him with suspicion and anger? He shouldn't care.
He has other things to take into account, other things to think about, other plans to make. Other people to grieve for. He doesn't really need Tyler or Jay, and he certainly doesn't need their forgiveness.
So Will keeps to himself most of the time, tells himself he needs to heal, anyway, so resting and taking it easy is exactly what the doctor ordered. Or would have, if he had seen a doctor. That's the plan he'll stick to for the time being.
He knows they'll have to make a move soon. The little house Will found, thanks to one of his last remaining friends - You're not going to try to kill me, Sean, are you? - is a safe haven for now, but it won't last forever. Technically, they might have stayed here a bit too long already; but it's as if none of them can force themselves to leave the quiet, secluded place.
One thing at a time, though. For now, they're safe - or safe as anyone can be under the circumstances. But it's enough. It has to be.
The sound of footsteps and quiet talking comes from the porch; Will recognizes Tyler's voice. Besides, the simple fact that Will can hear their arrival is enough to tell him it's no-one unwanted.
He looks up when he hears the door unlocking and watches silently as Jay and Tyler enter the living room. They seem a bit more relaxed than they did when he found them in New York. Or, if not relaxed, per se, at least they definitely look more rested.
It makes them look less desperate; less dangerous, too. The idea would make Will smile if he felt like smiling these days, because he never thought that 'dangerous' and 'Jay Burchell and Tyler Fog' could ever belong in the same sentence.
Well, things change, don't they?
"Hey," Jay says with a little jerk of his head, pulling him out of his reverie.
"Hey," Will answers. He watches as his two... what? He doesn't really know anymore. He watches as Tyler and Jay take off their sweatshirts and take a seat; Tyler on the only armchair in the room, Jay in one of the hard chairs that he turns around so that he, too, is facing Will.
Will doesn't say anything, just stares back at them. Making the first move is never a good idea when you have no knowledge of what is going on. So he simply waits, not moving an inch; the couch is pretty comfortable, anyway, so he can stay still for several hours if he needs to. And come to think of it, that's what he's been doing most days since they took possession of the cabin.
Jay leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. Will studies his face, trying to decipher the meaning of this little impromptu confrontation. Are they in for a new round of difficult questions with even more difficult answers? Are Jay and Tyler done with him, after all, and just want him to leave? It wouldn't be smart or practical, but the two men have become a bit unpredictable since the Drexler bombing; Will won't be honestly surprised if that's what they want. The question now is whether he'll put up a fight or just accept their decision.
Will sees them exchange a quick glance, but doesn't know whether it's to encourage each other or if they're trying to make the other go first. There was a time when Will knew them by heart. It feels weird not to be able to predict their next move anymore.
"How's the side?" Jay finally asks.
Will raises an eyebrow. He might not be able to read them like he used to, but he has the feeling that's not what Jay was going to say. Still, if that's how they want to play it, he doesn't mind. He's nothing if not flexible.
"Healing," is his answer. Short and to the point. Besides, it's the truth; it's healing. The wound is still tender, and it hurts when he doesn't pay attention and moves a little too abruptly, but he did a good job of patching himself.
"Okay. Good."
If Will allows himself to think about it, this, too, might hurt a little - how stilted and self-conscious they've become. Right after they met again, they didn't have the time to realize how much things had changed. Running for your life will do that to you. But when things calm down enough, that's when things get awkward.
Used to be that they could finish each other's sentences. Used to be that they tended to forget that there was a time when they didn't know each other.
Kate was right; he should never have let it get personal. Because it always gets messy afterward. Messy and painful. And, apparently, it always ends up in tears and blood, too.
The silence stretches between them, and Will feels like maybe staying on the couch isn't such a good idea, after all. The room is too small for the three of them, with all that anger and pain; he wants out. He stands up and is about to turn his back when Tyler's voice echoes in the room.
"Don't."
The single word sounds like so much more. Will does stop, though he doesn't sit back down. He stands there, in the comfortable though unfamiliar house that has become their home for the past two weeks, waiting.
"Running again, huh?" Tyler's voice is thick with accusation and anger.
Will wants to point out that he's not the only one who's been playing the avoidance game all this time, but he doesn't. What's the point?
His silence angers Tyler, who shoots up impetuously from his seat.
"Fucking say something, Will!"
Will's eyes lock with Tyler's. "What do you want me to say?" He's not trying to antagonize them; he honestly has no idea what they expect from him.
"That you're sorry?" Tyler all but spits at him. "That you're sorry, that you know you're a fucking bastard? What about that for a start?"
He could say that, yes. Because he is sorry. Sorry it had to be this way. Sorry he fell for them when they were supposed to be an assignment and nothing more. Sorry that he killed Maya. Technically, he's not the one who pulled the trigger, it wasn't his bullet which tore into her body, but it makes no difference; she died because of him. So he's sorry he has her blood on his hands. Sorry that everything got ruined.
He's sorry for a lot of things.
"You're not even going to say it, are you?" Tyler says after a while, his voice low, almost surprised, as if he can't really believe how messed up the whole thing is. "You son of a bitch," he finishes in a whisper.
Will shakes his head slowly. "What's done is done. Whatever I say, you either won't believe it, or you won't fucking want to hear it. So what's the point?"
"What's the point?" Tyler repeats incredulously, then chuckles, though the sound is harsh to Will's ears. Tyler turns to Jay, who has yet to pronounce a word. "You hear this, pal? He wants to know what the point is."
Will clenches his fists tightly, but remains calm. He has his training to thank for that.
"The point is," Tyler says again, enunciating each word slowly, while stepping toward him, "that you-"
"Lied to us."
They both whip their heads in Jay's direction, who's still sitting on the chair, head in his hands. In that position, his words should have sounded a bit muffled, but they are loud and clear in the room.
His stance suggests that he's carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. It almost makes Will want to laugh because, if anyone knows what it is to carry that kind of burden, it's him. But, again, he chooses to swallow his words, because he's well aware that he's the one who's responsible for making Jay feel like the world is crushing on him.
Jay doesn't add anything, but he stands up too and advances on Will, eyes never leaving him. He joins Tyler by Will's side, both surrounding him, crowding him. Will can't decide whether he wants to take a step back or just shove them away.
"You lied to us," Jay says again, as if tasting the words once more, as if checking whether they still taste of bitterness and anger. Of betrayal.
"Yes, I did." There is nothing else to say. Except that it's not the whole story. "I also saved your lives."
"So you keep saying."
"Because it's the truth." Will doesn't know why it's so important that they believe him on this. Things are ruined now; what's one more reason for them to hate him? But he can't stand the thought; he's already lost too much.
"How can we trust you?" Jay asks softly but his voice is hard. Jay's voice never used to be so hard, so edgy.
"So this is how it's gonna be from now on?" Will glares at them defiantly. "You're not going to believe a word I say. We're not going to get far if that's how we work. Maybe it's best if we just split before your distrust kills one of us."
"You don't get to play the martyr, Will!" Tyler explodes. "Not after everything you said and did." His anger is almost a living thing around them. It surrounds Will, suffocating him.
"What do you want? Just tell me what you want, okay?" Will asks. How come these two always get to him like this? How the hell did they crawl under his skin so deep that he can't let them go? He's never been unprofessional before; he's always known where his duty lay. But these two... they've made him rethink everything.
"We want the damn truth! We want to know." And though it's Jay who says the words, it's as if Will can hear both their voices at the same time.
"So just tell us, okay?" Tyler continues, voice deceptively soothing. "When we fucked your ass, were you just pretending to like it?"
Silence falls on them and Will realizes they're all breathing hard, as if they've been physically fighting. And it's so wrong because Will can kill someone without really breaking a sweat; he's not supposed to react like this.
But he wasn't supposed to do a lot of things the past weeks. The past years.
"Easy question, isn't it?" Tyler smiles nastily. "The answer should be easy too."
"Nothing is ever easy; I thought maybe you'd have learned that by now," Will counters. "And this is so typical of you, to care about a fuck when so many other things are at stake."
He knows that Tyler is going to hit him a second before the other man actually throws the punch, but he doesn't make a move to avoid the blow; it hits him squarely on his jaw. Will stumbles back and makes a conscious effort not to hit back. He listens as Jay tells Tyler to calm down, listens to the curses that fill the air, and just keeps looking at them.
The punch doesn't hurt him; he's been through so much worse through the years, and very recently, too. But his left side is reminding him that it's not fully healed yet; it's throbbing like hell, making him breathe a little harder. One of his hands comes to rest on the area, as if it could stop the pain.
Jay sees him make the protective gesture, but doesn't say anything. His own hand is splayed on Tyler's chest, reining him in.
"So is that a yes or a no?" Jay presses, as if it is, indeed, the most important question they can think of. And maybe it is.
"It's not that hard a question, is it, Will?" Jay continues. His voice suggests he's speaking to a skittish animal, and it angers Will. He's not fragile, or broken. He's just...
"I don't have anything to say to you." He's done with the conversation. Will shoves the two men aside and heads toward the door.
"Oh no, you don't." Tyler grabs his arms and tries to pull him back.
Will jerks his arm away harshly, turning around to face them. He reminds himself to take it easy, reminds himself how simple it would be to hurt them, to do real damage. That's not what he wants. In the drugstore, even wounded as he was, he allowed Jay to beat him up; he's not going to hurt either of them now.
He raises his hands. "You don't."
"You owe us," Jay says, advancing on him. "And you're not leaving until you've talked to us."
"Right." And Will turns his back on them without a backward glance, intending to leave them behind and clear his head outside for a couple of hours. But he doesn't have the time to reach the door. He feels two hands - Tyler's, he immediately recognizes - grab him from behind, turning him around, and Will is facing Jay, whose own hands grab his hair.
He doesn't even think, just reacts; in two moves, he's freed himself from his 'prison'. Jay and Tyler don't seem surprised, but they look determined as they attack him again.
Truthfully, it's a pretty pathetic fight. But, ironically, Will is at a disadvantage because he still refuses to let go and really use all his skills. He pulls back, thinks twice before stopping or throwing a punch; it's so natural for him to go for the kill that he's feeling unsettled now that he's trying not to hurt his friends for real.
So he is genuinely surprised when Jay, all of people, goes for his weak point and hits him on his wound. He doubles over from the pain and then finds himself in the same position as before - Tyler at his back, holding him tight, his arms bent painfully behind him, and Jay at his front, hands grabbing his face.
"Pretty low move for a Boy Scout," Will gasps, looking up at Jay who's looming over him, face closed off. This time, he doesn't try to free himself; allows them the victory.
"I forgot how to play by the rules the day my best friend set me up," Jay says, breathing hard, puff of air teasingly caressing Will's face.
"Why can't you tell us?" Jay's face is so close to his, Will feels like they're kissing.
"Come on," Tyler whispers against his ears, "you owe us. We just want to know. Was it ever real? You lied to us all this time, you lied about your life, about your father, we don't even know your name, for God's sake." At that, Tyler's hold on his arms tightens, and Will wonders whether Tyler even realizes he's doing it. "We just want to know if the rest was a lie, too."
Will closes his eyes, shaking his head softly. Why are they making this so difficult? Why can't they just let him pretend nothing ever happened? Why can't they leave him alone? It's not going to accomplish anything, is it?
"Please, Will," Tyler breathes again, and Will feels him jerking his head slightly in Jay's direction. "Can't you see he needs to know?"
That makes Will react. "It's not going to fix anything," he says wearily.
"Maybe, maybe not," Jay replies. His hands slide in Will's hair, grabbing him tight. "But it'll make things easier. I can accept that you lied about facts; your dad, your past, your name, that's what it is, just facts. But our friendship, our..." his voice trails off.
They've never given a name to what they had. They were best friends, they lived together, spent all their time together, they fucked, they told each other things no-one else knew; it was all they needed to know. Until now.
"I can accept a lot of your lies," Jay tries again, "but if you lied about us, I just-" Again he doesn't finish his sentence. Jay stares at Will with an unreadable look on his face before bending his head and crushing his lips to Will's, kissing him roughly.
The kiss shouldn't surprise Will. If he thinks about it, the last few minutes have felt like foreplay, so it really shouldn't surprise him. But it does. Because he thought he was more likely to be hit again than kissed. Because Jay's mouth on his is the last thing he expected. Because it feels so familiar, and he thought he'd lost this.
Still, this can only complicates things. Will tries not to react, even tries to recoil from the touch - but Tyler's behind him, not allowing him to move away and he can't stop it and Jay's body is so hard against his own and Jay's tongue is licking his lips and his scent is all around him and...
"Let me in," Jay breathes against his cheek.
And he does. Will opens his mouth and he hears Jay - yes, yes, come on, - and he can finally taste Jay and he shouldn't be doing this but he doesn't care; all he wants is to be reminded of why he turned his world upside down, why he took all those risks to save these two men.
Jay's kisses are usually like him; passionate and honest, he gives all of himself, never hiding anything, never holding back. But this time there's a desperation to his kisses that's new to Will. He's not sure he likes it, but he gives as good as he gets, wanting to make it count, if that's the last kiss Jay ever gives him.
When Jay draws back, his teeth biting Will's lower lip as he slowly moves away, he has no time to pull himself together. Tyler turns him around and pulls him into his own kiss.
It's different; Jay and Tyler are different. Tyler has always been a bit rougher; he's the one who's always had things to prove - to his dad, to the world, to himself - and Will always took it in stride, reveling in it. This time isn't different, but it's more intense as Tyler's anger pours through his touch.
Between Tyler's rough hands on him, and Jay's imposing presence at his back, Will finds himself getting hard. Maybe the biting and rough treatment are exactly what he needs right now. Maybe it's the only way he can allow himself to have this.
Tyler lets him go, chest heaving. "You can't lie to us now. This doesn't lie."
Will is a bit surprised those words come from Tyler; it's more a Jay thing to say. His next move is pure Tyler, though; he cups Will's cock and squeezes almost painfully. Will winces slightly but doesn't say anything. He just licks his lips, eyes locked with Tyler's.
"You always liked it rough, didn't you? Now I understand why; you must get high from the adrenaline. It's only good if it hurts, isn't it?" Tyler's hand slides up under Will's shirt, and he puts a knee between Will's legs, spreading them a little. "Was it part of your training? I mean, there has to be a training and all, right?"
This is more like Tyler, yes.
"So what, we're going to fix the problem with a last fuck, is that what you want?" Will asks. He's genuinely curious to know the answer.
Jay's hands are on his hips now and they tighten, fingers digging into his skin through his jeans.
"You boys want to get it out of your system; I get it." He hears an intake of breath behind him and wonders at Jay's reaction when the hands on his hips squeezes him even tighter. He wonders how many bruises he'll end up having by the end of this.
"We want a lot of things," Jay says in his ears and he's slowly rocking against Will's body now, "and if that's the only one we get, it'll be enough for now."
"This is fucked up," Will manages through clenched teeth.
Jay ignores him. He thrusts harder against his back. "Tell us you don't want this. Tell us - and mean it - and we'll stop."
Will believes him. Jay might be tougher now, but he's still Jay; Will knows he can always rely on him, trust his words. It made lying to him both easy and difficult. Easy because Jay always believed others to be like him and never expected his friends to lie to him, difficult because it was too easy and it was wrong and there was nothing Will could do to fix things.
So Will knows that if he really doesn't want this, they'll leave him alone. They won't touch him again. They'll pretend today never happened.
This isn't what he wants. No, not 'want'. He has to have this. Even if it's the last time. Especially if it's the last time.
Decision made, he ponders his next action. In a swift move, he's facing Jay, both arms free, and he's cupping Jay's face and kissing him; hard, messily, because finesse isn't what they need right now.
He's stretching against Jay, feeling every inch of Jay's body against his, feeling how warm and hard he is. Jay's chest is heaving and it feels like their hearts are beating in the same rhythm...
Years ago, during combat training, Will had been taught how to fight taller men, how to never let himself be intimidated by the height difference, how it didn't matter. It had come easily to him; he'd always been a quick study.
Later, on his own, he also learned how to kiss and touch - and let himself be touched by - taller, heavier men. That was a far different lesson, but one he'd never forgotten, a lesson he thought he'd learned even faster than the other.
And it's never been as good nor as exciting as when it's with Jay. Not even with Tyler, though that's another secret he keeps to himself. He always feels a bit disloyal at the thought, which, considering all the other lies, is laughable.
As if sensing the thought, Tyler grabs Will's hair from behind and bends his head backward at an awkward, painful angle. It hurts, but the only reason Will protests is because now he can't kiss Jay.
He reaches a hand out to Jay who grabs it and gives it to Tyler who, again, holds him tight enough that he can't move his arms.
Again, Will disengages himself and, again, they try to hold him. If some of their fucking sessions have occasionally looked like a well-choreographed dance, this time it looks more like a fight.
The kind of fight Will is willing to lose, without regrets.
Clothes are discarded quickly and without finesse; there's no gentleness in the act, no playful teasing. Pants are unzipped swiftly and roughly pushed down, shirts are opened violently, displaying bare skin that demands to be stroked and pinched and bitten and licked.
They touch each other with both longing and resentment, as if they're trying to hold onto something, all the while knowing it's gone and can't be found again.
They moan and gasp and groan and the air is thick with lust mixed with anger - always a lethal combination.
Will's fingers slide down along Jay's skin, roam from his chest to his stomach, before going further down and curling around his cock. Will's lips caress Jay's taut neck, mouthing the warm skin, tongue sticking out to trail a wet path down the long lines. His eyes flutter closed when he hears Jay moan his name; the sound is raspy, and nothing has ever turned Will on more than the knowledge that he's giving pleasure to his lovers.
Jay is fucking Will's hand in earnest now, breathing his name, and Will is pressed against Jay's front by Tyler, who's thrusting against him, hard cock sliding between his thighs in a punishing rhythm. Will is held in place by the two bodies surrounding him, back and front, and he's reveling in the sensation of being the willing prisoner of the two men.
He arches his back when he feels Jay's hand wrapped around his cock; the dual sensation of Jay's hand on him and Tyler's thrusts - getting more erratic with each breath - is driving him mad.
"God," Will gasps, feeling like he's breaking into million little pieces between them. He latches his mouth onto Jay's, tongue mapping the inside of his mouth, grinding against the hand wrapped tightly around him; his own hand never ceases working Jay into orgasm.
From the sounds coming from behind him, the air warming the nape of his neck, Will knows Tyler is about to come. He recognizes the telltale signs, the rapid breathing, the erratic thrusting, the obscenities Tyler breathes close to his ear, as he always does before he spills into Will, or on him as the case may be - you're such a slut, God, always like it down and dirty, don't you, I could fuck you dry and you would beg for more - and then Tyler bends his head to the crook of Will's neck and bites him, in sync with his climax.
Will shivers at the combined feeling of Tyler's come coating the back of his thighs and the sharp sting from the bite; the sensation is too much for him and he cries out and follows Tyler, coming on Jay's hand.
He sags back against Tyler, not really seeing anything anymore, his body a mass of over-stimulated nerves.
Tyler is holding him as Will is riding his orgasm, body going weak and boneless against Tyler's.
Will moans when he feels Jay's hand, slicked with his come, curl around the hand that is still working Jay's cock. Jay's hand squeezes Will's around him and Will lets him set the pace.
It doesn't take long for Jay to join them; his free hand comes to rest on Will's hip, curling on the warm skin, and he comes, silently, his eyes never leaving Will's. He's breathing hard and his lips are slightly open, making Will want to kiss him again. So he does, and Jay lets him, slowly thrusting against Will's crotch while he's winding down.
The urgency is gone now; they're touching each other with a little more care, hands running softly up and down sweat-slicked skin, without hurting anymore. The room smells of sweat and come, it smells of sex, of them. It's a familiar scent, one that soothes Will, even for a moment.
He isn't delusional enough to think that a quick fuck - where no-one actually even fucked anyone and he wonders if there's gonna be a repeat performance soon, one where he'll be able to feel one of them, or both, inside him - is going to fix everything... but if they can at least be civil toward each other, if Jay and Tyler can look at him with less hatred and distrust in their eyes, then it was all worth it.
Still sandwiched between the other two, Will thinks that they probably make quite the sight; naked, covered in come, still standing in the middle of the living room. He glances down and realizes that Tyler never got his pants out the way; they're still piled down around his ankles.
The whole scene should be a bit ridiculous, once they've finally come down to reality, but Will doesn't really care. He breathes them in and presses a bit closer to Jay - not needy, exactly, but needing to feel close to them for a little while longer.
"Hey, I have a question." Jay's voice is just a whisper in the room and Will is glad he hasn't spoken louder. He doesn't want the spell to be broken. Not yet. Still, he can't help tensing minutely because he's tired of questions that have no real answers.
He's going to ignore the question but the hand resting on his thigh - Jay's, he thinks; Tyler's is at the small of his back - squeezes him once, as if to tell him not to worry.
"What?" he still asks wearily.
"Were you really a Cub's fan?"
He blinks at the unexpected question, and presses still closer against Jay's body as he's trying to think of the correct way to reply to this. But he has no idea what he's supposed to say. "Yeah," he finally whispers back, "I wouldn't lie about that."
He's not sure he's giving the right answer until he feels tremors running through his lovers' bodies. He realizes right away that they're laughing, and he relaxes against them before joining in. It's stupid and not even that funny to begin with; actually, it's not funny at all, considering the situation, but they're laughing their asses off and don't seem to be ready to stop anytime soon.
And if, as the moment extends, their laughter sounds a bit choked and painful, they all pretend not to notice.
Fin
Also, how many familiar faces were there in that film! There was PB!Sucre! Las Vegas!Danny! And hee there was even Andrew!Buffy! Etc etc...
And now for something different, I offer fic. In a fandom that's sorta nonexistent, ie the show was cancelled after only eight episodes but, you know, sometimes the Muse decides to play and you just have to shut up and write what he wants, so here is my Traveler fic:
Title: Heavy Taboo
Pairing: Jay/Will/Tyler
Rating: R
Word Count: 5100+
Summary: It's two weeks after the ending of "The Exchange" - trying not to be too spoilery here - and the boys have to pick up the pieces of their relationship.
Spoilers: The whole season.
Thanks go to
starwatcher307 who's always there to help me with my fics, even when she has no idea about the fandom she's reading *kisses*The betrayal of trust carries a heavy taboo - Aldrich Ames
They don't talk about 'it' for a couple of weeks. At first Will supposes it's because they just don't have the time, or the luxury; their plan went up in smoke - quite literally - and they need to recoup, to hide again, to breathe a little.
They need time to accept that things aren't going to get better for a long time - if they ever do - and to think of a new way to try and make themselves heard.
Then as days pass, maybe they're all just too wary of what might be said. Resentment and hurt are thick and heavy in the air; sometimes Will feels as if he could choke on it.
But he doesn't say anything, never tries to reach out to them. Maybe he's waiting for Jay or Tyler to make the first move. Or maybe he's just hoping that, if he ignores it, they'll just let it go. Denial was always said to be the weapon of the weak, and Will has never shied away from reality. But - just this once - he wouldn't mind making an exception.
Jay and Tyler both tiptoe around him - sometimes barely friendly, sometimes downright angry, but always wary. They seemed to have reached a status quo right before the bomb exploded and killed Freed, but now it seems that their hopes of possibly getting their lives back went up in flames with him.
Will knows something is broken that may never again be fixed. He tries to convince himself that it doesn't matter, keeps telling himself that it doesn't hurt.
Besides, he was never supposed to feel anything for them in the first place. So what if they hate him now? So what if they continue to look at him with suspicion and anger? He shouldn't care.
He has other things to take into account, other things to think about, other plans to make. Other people to grieve for. He doesn't really need Tyler or Jay, and he certainly doesn't need their forgiveness.
So Will keeps to himself most of the time, tells himself he needs to heal, anyway, so resting and taking it easy is exactly what the doctor ordered. Or would have, if he had seen a doctor. That's the plan he'll stick to for the time being.
He knows they'll have to make a move soon. The little house Will found, thanks to one of his last remaining friends - You're not going to try to kill me, Sean, are you? - is a safe haven for now, but it won't last forever. Technically, they might have stayed here a bit too long already; but it's as if none of them can force themselves to leave the quiet, secluded place.
One thing at a time, though. For now, they're safe - or safe as anyone can be under the circumstances. But it's enough. It has to be.
The sound of footsteps and quiet talking comes from the porch; Will recognizes Tyler's voice. Besides, the simple fact that Will can hear their arrival is enough to tell him it's no-one unwanted.
He looks up when he hears the door unlocking and watches silently as Jay and Tyler enter the living room. They seem a bit more relaxed than they did when he found them in New York. Or, if not relaxed, per se, at least they definitely look more rested.
It makes them look less desperate; less dangerous, too. The idea would make Will smile if he felt like smiling these days, because he never thought that 'dangerous' and 'Jay Burchell and Tyler Fog' could ever belong in the same sentence.
Well, things change, don't they?
"Hey," Jay says with a little jerk of his head, pulling him out of his reverie.
"Hey," Will answers. He watches as his two... what? He doesn't really know anymore. He watches as Tyler and Jay take off their sweatshirts and take a seat; Tyler on the only armchair in the room, Jay in one of the hard chairs that he turns around so that he, too, is facing Will.
Will doesn't say anything, just stares back at them. Making the first move is never a good idea when you have no knowledge of what is going on. So he simply waits, not moving an inch; the couch is pretty comfortable, anyway, so he can stay still for several hours if he needs to. And come to think of it, that's what he's been doing most days since they took possession of the cabin.
Jay leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. Will studies his face, trying to decipher the meaning of this little impromptu confrontation. Are they in for a new round of difficult questions with even more difficult answers? Are Jay and Tyler done with him, after all, and just want him to leave? It wouldn't be smart or practical, but the two men have become a bit unpredictable since the Drexler bombing; Will won't be honestly surprised if that's what they want. The question now is whether he'll put up a fight or just accept their decision.
Will sees them exchange a quick glance, but doesn't know whether it's to encourage each other or if they're trying to make the other go first. There was a time when Will knew them by heart. It feels weird not to be able to predict their next move anymore.
"How's the side?" Jay finally asks.
Will raises an eyebrow. He might not be able to read them like he used to, but he has the feeling that's not what Jay was going to say. Still, if that's how they want to play it, he doesn't mind. He's nothing if not flexible.
"Healing," is his answer. Short and to the point. Besides, it's the truth; it's healing. The wound is still tender, and it hurts when he doesn't pay attention and moves a little too abruptly, but he did a good job of patching himself.
"Okay. Good."
If Will allows himself to think about it, this, too, might hurt a little - how stilted and self-conscious they've become. Right after they met again, they didn't have the time to realize how much things had changed. Running for your life will do that to you. But when things calm down enough, that's when things get awkward.
Used to be that they could finish each other's sentences. Used to be that they tended to forget that there was a time when they didn't know each other.
Kate was right; he should never have let it get personal. Because it always gets messy afterward. Messy and painful. And, apparently, it always ends up in tears and blood, too.
The silence stretches between them, and Will feels like maybe staying on the couch isn't such a good idea, after all. The room is too small for the three of them, with all that anger and pain; he wants out. He stands up and is about to turn his back when Tyler's voice echoes in the room.
"Don't."
The single word sounds like so much more. Will does stop, though he doesn't sit back down. He stands there, in the comfortable though unfamiliar house that has become their home for the past two weeks, waiting.
"Running again, huh?" Tyler's voice is thick with accusation and anger.
Will wants to point out that he's not the only one who's been playing the avoidance game all this time, but he doesn't. What's the point?
His silence angers Tyler, who shoots up impetuously from his seat.
"Fucking say something, Will!"
Will's eyes lock with Tyler's. "What do you want me to say?" He's not trying to antagonize them; he honestly has no idea what they expect from him.
"That you're sorry?" Tyler all but spits at him. "That you're sorry, that you know you're a fucking bastard? What about that for a start?"
He could say that, yes. Because he is sorry. Sorry it had to be this way. Sorry he fell for them when they were supposed to be an assignment and nothing more. Sorry that he killed Maya. Technically, he's not the one who pulled the trigger, it wasn't his bullet which tore into her body, but it makes no difference; she died because of him. So he's sorry he has her blood on his hands. Sorry that everything got ruined.
He's sorry for a lot of things.
"You're not even going to say it, are you?" Tyler says after a while, his voice low, almost surprised, as if he can't really believe how messed up the whole thing is. "You son of a bitch," he finishes in a whisper.
Will shakes his head slowly. "What's done is done. Whatever I say, you either won't believe it, or you won't fucking want to hear it. So what's the point?"
"What's the point?" Tyler repeats incredulously, then chuckles, though the sound is harsh to Will's ears. Tyler turns to Jay, who has yet to pronounce a word. "You hear this, pal? He wants to know what the point is."
Will clenches his fists tightly, but remains calm. He has his training to thank for that.
"The point is," Tyler says again, enunciating each word slowly, while stepping toward him, "that you-"
"Lied to us."
They both whip their heads in Jay's direction, who's still sitting on the chair, head in his hands. In that position, his words should have sounded a bit muffled, but they are loud and clear in the room.
His stance suggests that he's carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. It almost makes Will want to laugh because, if anyone knows what it is to carry that kind of burden, it's him. But, again, he chooses to swallow his words, because he's well aware that he's the one who's responsible for making Jay feel like the world is crushing on him.
Jay doesn't add anything, but he stands up too and advances on Will, eyes never leaving him. He joins Tyler by Will's side, both surrounding him, crowding him. Will can't decide whether he wants to take a step back or just shove them away.
"You lied to us," Jay says again, as if tasting the words once more, as if checking whether they still taste of bitterness and anger. Of betrayal.
"Yes, I did." There is nothing else to say. Except that it's not the whole story. "I also saved your lives."
"So you keep saying."
"Because it's the truth." Will doesn't know why it's so important that they believe him on this. Things are ruined now; what's one more reason for them to hate him? But he can't stand the thought; he's already lost too much.
"How can we trust you?" Jay asks softly but his voice is hard. Jay's voice never used to be so hard, so edgy.
"So this is how it's gonna be from now on?" Will glares at them defiantly. "You're not going to believe a word I say. We're not going to get far if that's how we work. Maybe it's best if we just split before your distrust kills one of us."
"You don't get to play the martyr, Will!" Tyler explodes. "Not after everything you said and did." His anger is almost a living thing around them. It surrounds Will, suffocating him.
"What do you want? Just tell me what you want, okay?" Will asks. How come these two always get to him like this? How the hell did they crawl under his skin so deep that he can't let them go? He's never been unprofessional before; he's always known where his duty lay. But these two... they've made him rethink everything.
"We want the damn truth! We want to know." And though it's Jay who says the words, it's as if Will can hear both their voices at the same time.
"So just tell us, okay?" Tyler continues, voice deceptively soothing. "When we fucked your ass, were you just pretending to like it?"
Silence falls on them and Will realizes they're all breathing hard, as if they've been physically fighting. And it's so wrong because Will can kill someone without really breaking a sweat; he's not supposed to react like this.
But he wasn't supposed to do a lot of things the past weeks. The past years.
"Easy question, isn't it?" Tyler smiles nastily. "The answer should be easy too."
"Nothing is ever easy; I thought maybe you'd have learned that by now," Will counters. "And this is so typical of you, to care about a fuck when so many other things are at stake."
He knows that Tyler is going to hit him a second before the other man actually throws the punch, but he doesn't make a move to avoid the blow; it hits him squarely on his jaw. Will stumbles back and makes a conscious effort not to hit back. He listens as Jay tells Tyler to calm down, listens to the curses that fill the air, and just keeps looking at them.
The punch doesn't hurt him; he's been through so much worse through the years, and very recently, too. But his left side is reminding him that it's not fully healed yet; it's throbbing like hell, making him breathe a little harder. One of his hands comes to rest on the area, as if it could stop the pain.
Jay sees him make the protective gesture, but doesn't say anything. His own hand is splayed on Tyler's chest, reining him in.
"So is that a yes or a no?" Jay presses, as if it is, indeed, the most important question they can think of. And maybe it is.
"It's not that hard a question, is it, Will?" Jay continues. His voice suggests he's speaking to a skittish animal, and it angers Will. He's not fragile, or broken. He's just...
"I don't have anything to say to you." He's done with the conversation. Will shoves the two men aside and heads toward the door.
"Oh no, you don't." Tyler grabs his arms and tries to pull him back.
Will jerks his arm away harshly, turning around to face them. He reminds himself to take it easy, reminds himself how simple it would be to hurt them, to do real damage. That's not what he wants. In the drugstore, even wounded as he was, he allowed Jay to beat him up; he's not going to hurt either of them now.
He raises his hands. "You don't."
"You owe us," Jay says, advancing on him. "And you're not leaving until you've talked to us."
"Right." And Will turns his back on them without a backward glance, intending to leave them behind and clear his head outside for a couple of hours. But he doesn't have the time to reach the door. He feels two hands - Tyler's, he immediately recognizes - grab him from behind, turning him around, and Will is facing Jay, whose own hands grab his hair.
He doesn't even think, just reacts; in two moves, he's freed himself from his 'prison'. Jay and Tyler don't seem surprised, but they look determined as they attack him again.
Truthfully, it's a pretty pathetic fight. But, ironically, Will is at a disadvantage because he still refuses to let go and really use all his skills. He pulls back, thinks twice before stopping or throwing a punch; it's so natural for him to go for the kill that he's feeling unsettled now that he's trying not to hurt his friends for real.
So he is genuinely surprised when Jay, all of people, goes for his weak point and hits him on his wound. He doubles over from the pain and then finds himself in the same position as before - Tyler at his back, holding him tight, his arms bent painfully behind him, and Jay at his front, hands grabbing his face.
"Pretty low move for a Boy Scout," Will gasps, looking up at Jay who's looming over him, face closed off. This time, he doesn't try to free himself; allows them the victory.
"I forgot how to play by the rules the day my best friend set me up," Jay says, breathing hard, puff of air teasingly caressing Will's face.
"Why can't you tell us?" Jay's face is so close to his, Will feels like they're kissing.
"Come on," Tyler whispers against his ears, "you owe us. We just want to know. Was it ever real? You lied to us all this time, you lied about your life, about your father, we don't even know your name, for God's sake." At that, Tyler's hold on his arms tightens, and Will wonders whether Tyler even realizes he's doing it. "We just want to know if the rest was a lie, too."
Will closes his eyes, shaking his head softly. Why are they making this so difficult? Why can't they just let him pretend nothing ever happened? Why can't they leave him alone? It's not going to accomplish anything, is it?
"Please, Will," Tyler breathes again, and Will feels him jerking his head slightly in Jay's direction. "Can't you see he needs to know?"
That makes Will react. "It's not going to fix anything," he says wearily.
"Maybe, maybe not," Jay replies. His hands slide in Will's hair, grabbing him tight. "But it'll make things easier. I can accept that you lied about facts; your dad, your past, your name, that's what it is, just facts. But our friendship, our..." his voice trails off.
They've never given a name to what they had. They were best friends, they lived together, spent all their time together, they fucked, they told each other things no-one else knew; it was all they needed to know. Until now.
"I can accept a lot of your lies," Jay tries again, "but if you lied about us, I just-" Again he doesn't finish his sentence. Jay stares at Will with an unreadable look on his face before bending his head and crushing his lips to Will's, kissing him roughly.
The kiss shouldn't surprise Will. If he thinks about it, the last few minutes have felt like foreplay, so it really shouldn't surprise him. But it does. Because he thought he was more likely to be hit again than kissed. Because Jay's mouth on his is the last thing he expected. Because it feels so familiar, and he thought he'd lost this.
Still, this can only complicates things. Will tries not to react, even tries to recoil from the touch - but Tyler's behind him, not allowing him to move away and he can't stop it and Jay's body is so hard against his own and Jay's tongue is licking his lips and his scent is all around him and...
"Let me in," Jay breathes against his cheek.
And he does. Will opens his mouth and he hears Jay - yes, yes, come on, - and he can finally taste Jay and he shouldn't be doing this but he doesn't care; all he wants is to be reminded of why he turned his world upside down, why he took all those risks to save these two men.
Jay's kisses are usually like him; passionate and honest, he gives all of himself, never hiding anything, never holding back. But this time there's a desperation to his kisses that's new to Will. He's not sure he likes it, but he gives as good as he gets, wanting to make it count, if that's the last kiss Jay ever gives him.
When Jay draws back, his teeth biting Will's lower lip as he slowly moves away, he has no time to pull himself together. Tyler turns him around and pulls him into his own kiss.
It's different; Jay and Tyler are different. Tyler has always been a bit rougher; he's the one who's always had things to prove - to his dad, to the world, to himself - and Will always took it in stride, reveling in it. This time isn't different, but it's more intense as Tyler's anger pours through his touch.
Between Tyler's rough hands on him, and Jay's imposing presence at his back, Will finds himself getting hard. Maybe the biting and rough treatment are exactly what he needs right now. Maybe it's the only way he can allow himself to have this.
Tyler lets him go, chest heaving. "You can't lie to us now. This doesn't lie."
Will is a bit surprised those words come from Tyler; it's more a Jay thing to say. His next move is pure Tyler, though; he cups Will's cock and squeezes almost painfully. Will winces slightly but doesn't say anything. He just licks his lips, eyes locked with Tyler's.
"You always liked it rough, didn't you? Now I understand why; you must get high from the adrenaline. It's only good if it hurts, isn't it?" Tyler's hand slides up under Will's shirt, and he puts a knee between Will's legs, spreading them a little. "Was it part of your training? I mean, there has to be a training and all, right?"
This is more like Tyler, yes.
"So what, we're going to fix the problem with a last fuck, is that what you want?" Will asks. He's genuinely curious to know the answer.
Jay's hands are on his hips now and they tighten, fingers digging into his skin through his jeans.
"You boys want to get it out of your system; I get it." He hears an intake of breath behind him and wonders at Jay's reaction when the hands on his hips squeezes him even tighter. He wonders how many bruises he'll end up having by the end of this.
"We want a lot of things," Jay says in his ears and he's slowly rocking against Will's body now, "and if that's the only one we get, it'll be enough for now."
"This is fucked up," Will manages through clenched teeth.
Jay ignores him. He thrusts harder against his back. "Tell us you don't want this. Tell us - and mean it - and we'll stop."
Will believes him. Jay might be tougher now, but he's still Jay; Will knows he can always rely on him, trust his words. It made lying to him both easy and difficult. Easy because Jay always believed others to be like him and never expected his friends to lie to him, difficult because it was too easy and it was wrong and there was nothing Will could do to fix things.
So Will knows that if he really doesn't want this, they'll leave him alone. They won't touch him again. They'll pretend today never happened.
This isn't what he wants. No, not 'want'. He has to have this. Even if it's the last time. Especially if it's the last time.
Decision made, he ponders his next action. In a swift move, he's facing Jay, both arms free, and he's cupping Jay's face and kissing him; hard, messily, because finesse isn't what they need right now.
He's stretching against Jay, feeling every inch of Jay's body against his, feeling how warm and hard he is. Jay's chest is heaving and it feels like their hearts are beating in the same rhythm...
Years ago, during combat training, Will had been taught how to fight taller men, how to never let himself be intimidated by the height difference, how it didn't matter. It had come easily to him; he'd always been a quick study.
Later, on his own, he also learned how to kiss and touch - and let himself be touched by - taller, heavier men. That was a far different lesson, but one he'd never forgotten, a lesson he thought he'd learned even faster than the other.
And it's never been as good nor as exciting as when it's with Jay. Not even with Tyler, though that's another secret he keeps to himself. He always feels a bit disloyal at the thought, which, considering all the other lies, is laughable.
As if sensing the thought, Tyler grabs Will's hair from behind and bends his head backward at an awkward, painful angle. It hurts, but the only reason Will protests is because now he can't kiss Jay.
He reaches a hand out to Jay who grabs it and gives it to Tyler who, again, holds him tight enough that he can't move his arms.
Again, Will disengages himself and, again, they try to hold him. If some of their fucking sessions have occasionally looked like a well-choreographed dance, this time it looks more like a fight.
The kind of fight Will is willing to lose, without regrets.
Clothes are discarded quickly and without finesse; there's no gentleness in the act, no playful teasing. Pants are unzipped swiftly and roughly pushed down, shirts are opened violently, displaying bare skin that demands to be stroked and pinched and bitten and licked.
They touch each other with both longing and resentment, as if they're trying to hold onto something, all the while knowing it's gone and can't be found again.
They moan and gasp and groan and the air is thick with lust mixed with anger - always a lethal combination.
Will's fingers slide down along Jay's skin, roam from his chest to his stomach, before going further down and curling around his cock. Will's lips caress Jay's taut neck, mouthing the warm skin, tongue sticking out to trail a wet path down the long lines. His eyes flutter closed when he hears Jay moan his name; the sound is raspy, and nothing has ever turned Will on more than the knowledge that he's giving pleasure to his lovers.
Jay is fucking Will's hand in earnest now, breathing his name, and Will is pressed against Jay's front by Tyler, who's thrusting against him, hard cock sliding between his thighs in a punishing rhythm. Will is held in place by the two bodies surrounding him, back and front, and he's reveling in the sensation of being the willing prisoner of the two men.
He arches his back when he feels Jay's hand wrapped around his cock; the dual sensation of Jay's hand on him and Tyler's thrusts - getting more erratic with each breath - is driving him mad.
"God," Will gasps, feeling like he's breaking into million little pieces between them. He latches his mouth onto Jay's, tongue mapping the inside of his mouth, grinding against the hand wrapped tightly around him; his own hand never ceases working Jay into orgasm.
From the sounds coming from behind him, the air warming the nape of his neck, Will knows Tyler is about to come. He recognizes the telltale signs, the rapid breathing, the erratic thrusting, the obscenities Tyler breathes close to his ear, as he always does before he spills into Will, or on him as the case may be - you're such a slut, God, always like it down and dirty, don't you, I could fuck you dry and you would beg for more - and then Tyler bends his head to the crook of Will's neck and bites him, in sync with his climax.
Will shivers at the combined feeling of Tyler's come coating the back of his thighs and the sharp sting from the bite; the sensation is too much for him and he cries out and follows Tyler, coming on Jay's hand.
He sags back against Tyler, not really seeing anything anymore, his body a mass of over-stimulated nerves.
Tyler is holding him as Will is riding his orgasm, body going weak and boneless against Tyler's.
Will moans when he feels Jay's hand, slicked with his come, curl around the hand that is still working Jay's cock. Jay's hand squeezes Will's around him and Will lets him set the pace.
It doesn't take long for Jay to join them; his free hand comes to rest on Will's hip, curling on the warm skin, and he comes, silently, his eyes never leaving Will's. He's breathing hard and his lips are slightly open, making Will want to kiss him again. So he does, and Jay lets him, slowly thrusting against Will's crotch while he's winding down.
The urgency is gone now; they're touching each other with a little more care, hands running softly up and down sweat-slicked skin, without hurting anymore. The room smells of sweat and come, it smells of sex, of them. It's a familiar scent, one that soothes Will, even for a moment.
He isn't delusional enough to think that a quick fuck - where no-one actually even fucked anyone and he wonders if there's gonna be a repeat performance soon, one where he'll be able to feel one of them, or both, inside him - is going to fix everything... but if they can at least be civil toward each other, if Jay and Tyler can look at him with less hatred and distrust in their eyes, then it was all worth it.
Still sandwiched between the other two, Will thinks that they probably make quite the sight; naked, covered in come, still standing in the middle of the living room. He glances down and realizes that Tyler never got his pants out the way; they're still piled down around his ankles.
The whole scene should be a bit ridiculous, once they've finally come down to reality, but Will doesn't really care. He breathes them in and presses a bit closer to Jay - not needy, exactly, but needing to feel close to them for a little while longer.
"Hey, I have a question." Jay's voice is just a whisper in the room and Will is glad he hasn't spoken louder. He doesn't want the spell to be broken. Not yet. Still, he can't help tensing minutely because he's tired of questions that have no real answers.
He's going to ignore the question but the hand resting on his thigh - Jay's, he thinks; Tyler's is at the small of his back - squeezes him once, as if to tell him not to worry.
"What?" he still asks wearily.
"Were you really a Cub's fan?"
He blinks at the unexpected question, and presses still closer against Jay's body as he's trying to think of the correct way to reply to this. But he has no idea what he's supposed to say. "Yeah," he finally whispers back, "I wouldn't lie about that."
He's not sure he's giving the right answer until he feels tremors running through his lovers' bodies. He realizes right away that they're laughing, and he relaxes against them before joining in. It's stupid and not even that funny to begin with; actually, it's not funny at all, considering the situation, but they're laughing their asses off and don't seem to be ready to stop anytime soon.
And if, as the moment extends, their laughter sounds a bit choked and painful, they all pretend not to notice.
Fin
