Fic: Game Over
Title: Game Over
Author: ashes4twenty
Fandom: Gamer
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Simon/Kable pre-slash
Warning: Horribly long, complicated sentances??
Summary:
Simon isn’t afraid, though he knows anyone else in his position would be to come home from school and find the front door unlocked, the security console reading two heat signatures in a house that he’s spent all of his life in alone because of absent parents too busy making money and feeding off the fame that comes with having a superstar gamer for a son. Being hacked and being stalked are two things Simon’s been forced to get use to in the long months after Castle’s murder and the extinction of the mind control reality games The Society and Slayers, but as his backpack strap slips from his hand, rushing back toward the room he’s avoided since getting picked up by the police for unwittingly aiding Kable’s escape, the gamer starts to feel something he hasn’t felt in months.
Hope underscored with so much fucking desperation it hurts.
It’s like finally breaking through to the surface when he opens the door and his eyes take in the harsh black silhouette of a man, more familiar to him than any of the superficial friends he’s made or the family he shares blood with, overpowered by a wash of white static raining over the custom made dome screen surrounding them. The soft hiss filtering through the speaker system is a pale echo compared to the bloody memories they share, an insult to this unexpected reunion and so with a brief gesture of his control hand the sound is muted, machinery responding obediently to his presence and it makes the older man stiffen in front of him.
Facing away from him Simon can’t easily guess what this man could possibly want from him now, not when Tilman has his family and freedom back, but as the gamer moves closer, circling the room until they’re face to face he finds his answers quickly and it takes his frickin breath away. Kable had the strength, the moves, but Simon was the one with the eyes, his memory photographic, mind overworking to out think and out match his opponents, and so he’s unable to miss the change, this difference because before him he doesn’t see the husband or father from the pictures printed in the paper. There is something more familiar in those eyes barely meeting his own and suddenly his blood is rushing, but Simon keeps it under control, keeps it from showing on his face because there is a hesitant need in the slayer’s eyes that demands the gamer answer.
Touching has never been a part of it, their worlds always divided by a high-definition screen and hundreds of miles, but that was a different life and Simon’s never been one to play by the rules.
A pale hand, a civilian hand, slowly breaches the air between them, fingers curled slightly before splaying open against a hard chest, human heat burning into him through flimsy layers of clothing that seem like an awkward kind of camouflage on the slayer, his slayer, searching for his own answers and finding them hidden within a frantic echo, Kable’s caged heart beating frantically, reminding Simon that he was real, this was real, and something in the gamer finally settled. The criminal had been given back his rightful name, his record wiped clean, the game canceled, but Kable had always been so much more than that and he still remained secreted away in the wild edges of Tilman's eyes, years of physical and mental captivity branded into his skin along with the haunting whispers of his gamer threaded into the recesses of his mind.
“Kable,” Simon’s voice was the only thing that broke this new silence, words firm and in control because that’s what his slayer needed now, even if the nanites were dormant and there were no more battles left for them to fight, no more reasons left for them to be what they had been, but then the older man’s eyes were snapping to attention, weight subtly leaning forward into the younger man’s hand.
The gamer knows its wrong, that he should make the man leave, send him home to his wife and daughter, but Simon can’t because in his own twisted way Castle was right. There were some people that would do anything for control and there were others that would give anything to have those choices taken out of their hands. Head tilting so that their eyes could meet Simon could no longer hide what side of that line he wanted to stand. Maybe things would have been different if he hadn’t become Kable’s gamer, hadn’t found a man whose mind had parted for him so easily, but back then the slayer had never really had a choice. The slayer would have done anything to escape his iron influence.
That is, until now it seemed.
The slayer’s eyes told him everything the man never would. The damage was already done, evidence seen in the tightly chorded muscles quivering with the strain of inaction under battle scarred skin, all the control his yet Kable remained completely still, inactive, powerless.
Lost.
“On your knees.”
The words were simple, spoken in an even tone, and the slayer did not hesitate or question, the older man’s voice still locked away somewhere deep inside, as the sound of Kable’s knees hitting the floor echoed in Simon’s head. In the shift the gamer’s hand lost contact, creating a small rift between them, distracted by the sudden flurry of nerves twisting his insides, the knowledge of having even the slightest control over someone so dangerous, so powerful, doing things to his stomach that he can’t properly identify until he notices how the older man starts to tense, eyes looking up, subtly hostile and uncertain until Simon’s hand finds a place on the slayer’s shoulder and he feels the hard line of muscle relax slowly.
In that moment Simon is reminded of every battle session, every victory, and every damage point scored against him when Kable could do nothing but rely on his gamer to keep him alive, to keep him safe and now, even though both of them were free from the game, they still needed the same things. Kable still needed the same things and Simon was more than willing to guide his slayer to his next save point so that today’s battle can finally come to an end and the horrible memories might cease and give the older man a night’s worth of peace.
Slipping down to the slayer’s level Simon says the words Kable needed to hear, words that make the slayer shiver apart and curl forward into the gamer’s open arms, ragged breath trapped behind fiercely clenched teeth as the older man hangs on, stronger hands clutching with a bruising strength but neither care because Castle maybe be gone but the ties he left behind, the bond he forced them to create, is still strong.
Addictive.
It’s the reason that tonight’s break in won’t be the last and why Simon will never be able to let this man go and grow old in peace without him as soft hands shift the slayer to lie back onto the circle body pillow in the center of the floor, eyes reading the exhaustion bleeding off the other man as the gamer curls up loosely at his side, watching long after those stubborn eyes finally drift closed. Simon knows in the morning that none of this will have happened, that Tilman will be rough and awkward and leave with the promise of never coming back.
It will be a lie because they both know that he will and that newly gained knowledge allows Simon to drift away comforted by the warmth of Kable’s proximity, taking in a long inhale, before letting it breathe life again into the words that Kable may always need to hear, but the gamer will always need to say.
“Game over.”
{{Sequel Snippet: Closer In The Darkness}}
X-posted @ gamermoviefics
Author: ashes4twenty
Fandom: Gamer
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Simon/Kable pre-slash
Warning: Horribly long, complicated sentances??
Summary:
Simon isn’t afraid, though he knows anyone else in his position would be to come home from school and find the front door unlocked, the security console reading two heat signatures in a house that he’s spent all of his life in alone because of absent parents too busy making money and feeding off the fame that comes with having a superstar gamer for a son. Being hacked and being stalked are two things Simon’s been forced to get use to in the long months after Castle’s murder and the extinction of the mind control reality games The Society and Slayers, but as his backpack strap slips from his hand, rushing back toward the room he’s avoided since getting picked up by the police for unwittingly aiding Kable’s escape, the gamer starts to feel something he hasn’t felt in months.
Hope underscored with so much fucking desperation it hurts.
It’s like finally breaking through to the surface when he opens the door and his eyes take in the harsh black silhouette of a man, more familiar to him than any of the superficial friends he’s made or the family he shares blood with, overpowered by a wash of white static raining over the custom made dome screen surrounding them. The soft hiss filtering through the speaker system is a pale echo compared to the bloody memories they share, an insult to this unexpected reunion and so with a brief gesture of his control hand the sound is muted, machinery responding obediently to his presence and it makes the older man stiffen in front of him.
Facing away from him Simon can’t easily guess what this man could possibly want from him now, not when Tilman has his family and freedom back, but as the gamer moves closer, circling the room until they’re face to face he finds his answers quickly and it takes his frickin breath away. Kable had the strength, the moves, but Simon was the one with the eyes, his memory photographic, mind overworking to out think and out match his opponents, and so he’s unable to miss the change, this difference because before him he doesn’t see the husband or father from the pictures printed in the paper. There is something more familiar in those eyes barely meeting his own and suddenly his blood is rushing, but Simon keeps it under control, keeps it from showing on his face because there is a hesitant need in the slayer’s eyes that demands the gamer answer.
Touching has never been a part of it, their worlds always divided by a high-definition screen and hundreds of miles, but that was a different life and Simon’s never been one to play by the rules.
A pale hand, a civilian hand, slowly breaches the air between them, fingers curled slightly before splaying open against a hard chest, human heat burning into him through flimsy layers of clothing that seem like an awkward kind of camouflage on the slayer, his slayer, searching for his own answers and finding them hidden within a frantic echo, Kable’s caged heart beating frantically, reminding Simon that he was real, this was real, and something in the gamer finally settled. The criminal had been given back his rightful name, his record wiped clean, the game canceled, but Kable had always been so much more than that and he still remained secreted away in the wild edges of Tilman's eyes, years of physical and mental captivity branded into his skin along with the haunting whispers of his gamer threaded into the recesses of his mind.
“Kable,” Simon’s voice was the only thing that broke this new silence, words firm and in control because that’s what his slayer needed now, even if the nanites were dormant and there were no more battles left for them to fight, no more reasons left for them to be what they had been, but then the older man’s eyes were snapping to attention, weight subtly leaning forward into the younger man’s hand.
The gamer knows its wrong, that he should make the man leave, send him home to his wife and daughter, but Simon can’t because in his own twisted way Castle was right. There were some people that would do anything for control and there were others that would give anything to have those choices taken out of their hands. Head tilting so that their eyes could meet Simon could no longer hide what side of that line he wanted to stand. Maybe things would have been different if he hadn’t become Kable’s gamer, hadn’t found a man whose mind had parted for him so easily, but back then the slayer had never really had a choice. The slayer would have done anything to escape his iron influence.
That is, until now it seemed.
The slayer’s eyes told him everything the man never would. The damage was already done, evidence seen in the tightly chorded muscles quivering with the strain of inaction under battle scarred skin, all the control his yet Kable remained completely still, inactive, powerless.
Lost.
“On your knees.”
The words were simple, spoken in an even tone, and the slayer did not hesitate or question, the older man’s voice still locked away somewhere deep inside, as the sound of Kable’s knees hitting the floor echoed in Simon’s head. In the shift the gamer’s hand lost contact, creating a small rift between them, distracted by the sudden flurry of nerves twisting his insides, the knowledge of having even the slightest control over someone so dangerous, so powerful, doing things to his stomach that he can’t properly identify until he notices how the older man starts to tense, eyes looking up, subtly hostile and uncertain until Simon’s hand finds a place on the slayer’s shoulder and he feels the hard line of muscle relax slowly.
In that moment Simon is reminded of every battle session, every victory, and every damage point scored against him when Kable could do nothing but rely on his gamer to keep him alive, to keep him safe and now, even though both of them were free from the game, they still needed the same things. Kable still needed the same things and Simon was more than willing to guide his slayer to his next save point so that today’s battle can finally come to an end and the horrible memories might cease and give the older man a night’s worth of peace.
Slipping down to the slayer’s level Simon says the words Kable needed to hear, words that make the slayer shiver apart and curl forward into the gamer’s open arms, ragged breath trapped behind fiercely clenched teeth as the older man hangs on, stronger hands clutching with a bruising strength but neither care because Castle maybe be gone but the ties he left behind, the bond he forced them to create, is still strong.
Addictive.
It’s the reason that tonight’s break in won’t be the last and why Simon will never be able to let this man go and grow old in peace without him as soft hands shift the slayer to lie back onto the circle body pillow in the center of the floor, eyes reading the exhaustion bleeding off the other man as the gamer curls up loosely at his side, watching long after those stubborn eyes finally drift closed. Simon knows in the morning that none of this will have happened, that Tilman will be rough and awkward and leave with the promise of never coming back.
It will be a lie because they both know that he will and that newly gained knowledge allows Simon to drift away comforted by the warmth of Kable’s proximity, taking in a long inhale, before letting it breathe life again into the words that Kable may always need to hear, but the gamer will always need to say.
“Game over.”
{{Sequel Snippet: Closer In The Darkness}}
X-posted @ gamermoviefics