Tangled Web, Chapter 8
Author’s Notes: Sorry it’s late folks! Between the Thanksgiving holiday and final tweaks that my wonderful beta suggested, I didn’t really get this done until last night. Chapter 9 is going to be a fair bit late as well because I haven’t had time to really start on it or plan it out the way I want to. I’m a planner, admittedly, and I’ve been working every night since a week from yesterday. But I have Friday and Saturday off both, so woo-hoo, writing time! I’ll try and get chapters 9 and 10 done over the weekend and get them posted by Sunday or so. Until then, enjoy.
Warnings: I think I mentioned at some point that the nanny, Ivy, was a young woman. For plot reasons, please know now that she’s more likely in her sixties. After all, Jordan would never let a pretty young woman be their nanny, right? Also, keep an eye out for some mild psycho babble. Nothing compared to what I’ve done in the past, but the fact remains. It gets explained.
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Elliot was pretty sure the silent treatment wouldn’t work on Jordan, being that they were both from similar, aristocratic families. If nothing else, the exact opposite of the silent treatment might have worked better, so she was going to try that before any other drastic measures.
Especially since Jordan seemed to have stopped talking to her all together.
Elliot chewed her lower lip as she tapped her pen on a chart. That, above all, was intolerable. Communication had been their way out, their way through the drunken sex and cruel words. Talking had brought them away from what made them unhappy in the first place.
And now it seemed like Jordan either seriously needed meds or needed to be adjusted.
Elliot snorted under her breath at just what a good kick in the pants could do for adjustment, but refrained from doing much else about it. She had seen various pill bottles around Jordan’s bathroom plenty of times, and now that they were living together, it was almost impossible to go without seeing Jordan take medications at certain times.
Jordan never talked about it, nor did she offer it up. Elliot hadn’t expected her to, not with the anti-anxiety regimen she’d been on her herself for years.
Still, Elliot wanted to fix this before they ended up split. And if Jordan didn’t get her act together, she knew they were going to end up doing just that.
Signing her last chart for the day, Elliot slid it into place and headed for the locker room. She’d actually managed to get out early for once, having wheedled Dr. Travis into covering the last hour of her shift. Dr. Travis had simply remarked that they needed the extra payroll.
Elliot wrinkled her nose as she hung up her lab coat. Dr. Travis really was a younger version of Dr. Kelso in some ways it seemed. She traded out her heels for a pair of battered running sneakers, wanting to be comfortable when she talked to Jordan this afternoon. The kids would have been home for a teacher workday, so she hoped that they had put her into a good mood.
The nanny, Ivy, seemed to help out too with that (being that she took care of the kids when they became fussy or unruly).
Elliot nodded to herself deliberately, and headed for the door, swinging her keys in her hand. She caught Carla out of the corner of her eye, and quickened her step. Carla had that look on her face that clearly said she knew something had finally hit the fan.
Sometimes the gossip took longer to run its course, especially without Laverne to speed it up anymore.
But the news had to be around by now that she and JD had split up. Carla had even asked her about it recently, being that JD hadn’t called Turk about it. Elliot had simply told her it was over, and maybe they’d talk later?
Which, naturally, they didn’t. Elliot hated blowing her off, but it wasn’t something she was ready to discuss yet. Carla had gotten better at keeping secrets, but this was massive, and so much more important.
“Elliot!” Carla called out.
“Gotta go, Carla! I’ve got a mani-pedi appointment,” Elliot called back breezily, hoping her voice didn’t betray any of the nervousness she felt about confronting Jordan and trying to open her up once and for all.
She thought she already had.
Carla seemed to understand, and watched as Elliot beelined out of the hospital.
“Baby? You’ve got that look on your face that says you know something I don’t want to know but you’re going to tell me anyway and beat it to death until I find out the truth,” Turk said mildly beside of her, though a tinge of fear ran through his voice.
Carla crossed her arms as Turk’s solid arm comforted her shoulders. “Something big is up, papi. And Elliot’s not talking to me.”
“Maybe she wants to keep it private for a while.”
“So you’re saying I’m a gossip?”
“No, baby, it’s just that sometimes Elliot likes her privacy!”
“So I’m nosy about my best friend’s life?”
“Well…yeah!”
Carla glared at him. “You’re on diaper duty for a month.”
Turk hung his head and followed his wife to the car. “Yes, ma’am,” he muttered.
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When Elliot arrived home, she knew something was up. For one, Jordan’s car was conspicuously absent. She frowned at that, but just assumed Jordan had gone out for something. It wasn’t unlike her, after all, to take the children to the park, or run out for a quick errand.
What was troubling was that Ivy’s car was still there. Normally, the nanny left by four or so.
The final nail in the “oh crap” coffin was the fact that Perry’s car was in the driveway as well.
None of that boded well.
With a sigh, Elliot slowly stepped out of the vehicle, preparing herself for whatever was going on inside the house. She didn’t have to wait long, however, as Perry came thundering out of the house with Jennifer on his hip and Jack attached to his hand.
Elliot stepped in front of him. “What’s going on?”
Perry narrowed his eyes at her. “This is all yours and Jordan’s fault,” he spat at her, rage lining his face and making him look more tired than ever. “You took her on when you two got together; you were supposed to make her take her damn meds.” He struggled to control the fury that ran through his body, coursing and churning. “Say bye to Barbie.”
“Bye, Elliot!” Jack said anxiously, obviously upset by his father’s attitude.
Jennifer didn’t seem to want to say anything, but she did reach for Elliot as if to say good bye.
Perry put them both in his car, and sped off without another word.
When Elliot entered the livingroom, she felt her jaw drop. There was broken glass in the floor, along with blood spatters.
“What in god’s name happened here?” she yelped.
Ivy jumped from where she had been getting a broom. “Hi, Dr. Reid,” she said a bit apologetically, though anger lined her face as well. Her wrinkled face was reddish and blotchy, and she cleaned the mess with a calmness that concerned Elliot.
“Where’s Jordan? Why’s there glass and blood everywhere?”
Ivy gave her a stiff frown. “It’s a broken lamp, and it’s because it was the first thing Miss Sullivan could grab, I believe.”
Elliot took the broom to help. “What happened?” she finally asked. “Why didn’t you page me?”
“I couldn’t find the number, and Miss Sullivan didn’t seem in coherent enough spirits to tell it to me,” Ivy replied, face reddening a bit at what Jordan had said, in quite colorful terms, about what she could do with the phone and Elliot’s pager. “When I got here this morning, she was upset over something or another. I think she’d been drinking.”
Elliot frowned, sweeping the broken pieces of her mother’s lamp into the dustpan. “Drinking? This early? She hasn’t done that in-“
“Since she met you,” Ivy replied wryly. “I’ve been working for the Sullivan-Cox family a while, Dr. Reid.”
“You know, you can call me Elliot,” she replied wearily. “And the blood?”
“Oh, that’s mine,” Ivy replied, holding up her bandaged hand. “I was trying to pick up the larger pieces before the kids woke up from their nap.”
“So they didn’t see this?”
“No, I don’t think Miss Sullivan would’ve done it if they’d been awake,” Ivy replied, gratefully letting Elliot help her clean up. “She was sporting a nasty cut herself on her hand too; she was trying to throw another piece.”
“Did she say what it was that made her so angry?” Elliot asked eagerly. “Or where she went?”
“She didn’t say where she was going; she called a car service herself after I parked her car in the neighbor’s driveway. I figured it’d be harder for her to find in the state she was in,” Ivy said as they walked into the kitchen and Elliot poured her a cup of tea. “She was muttering something about waffles this morning, though. After that, she locked herself in her room until the kids went down. After that, she was just…incoherent.”
“Thank you, Ivy…I know this wasn’t in your job description,” Elliot said apologetically. “I’m sorry.”
Ivy shrugged. “Like I said, I’ve been working for this family since before Jack was born. I’ve seen a lot, and believe me, this is nothing. She’ll be back tonight, more than likely.”
“In your opinion, then, where would she have gone?”
“Well, when Dr. Cox showed up, she started yelling something about someone named DJ. I think she meant Dr. Dorian; the young man that comes over to Dr. Cox’s house sometimes?”
“I know him,” Elliot said, face going a little pink.
“Well, she started in on him, how this was somehow all to do with him.” Ivy traced a finger around the cup of tea that Elliot had given her. “Something about how it all started?”
Elliot frowned, vague memories arising of their first year at Sacred Heart. Jordan wouldn’t.
Would she?
Ivy sensed she was being quietly dismissed, as she had been by both Jordan and Dr. Cox in the past, so she began to gather her things and stand.
“If you need me, Dr. Reid, give me a call,” Ivy said quietly, and patted her on the shoulder in a motherly fashion that made Elliot just want to be hugged. “It’ll work out.”
Elliot nodded absently, and wished very hard then that she’d stopped to talk to Carla. It would’ve delayed her just enough that she would have come home to a completely empty house. She wouldn’t have known then what was going on.
She sighed and squeezed her eyes shut, and debated on calling JD. He probably wouldn’t pick up the phone, and she knew what Dr. Cox would have to say to her. So Elliot tried calling Jordan herself instead.
“What do you want, princess?”
Elliot frowned at how slurred Jordan’s words were, how tangled her voice sounded. “Jordan, what are you doing? What’s gotten into you?”
“What’s gotten into me? What’s gotten into you, huh? Why can’t I just be happy for once? Must be something with you, cause there’s nothing wrong with me.”
“Jordan, come home, please.”
“Oh no! I’m gonna settle this for once and all.” A pause. “Once and for all anyway. You just sit tight, princess. I’m gonna fix this, you’ll see.”
“Jordan, what on earth do you think you’re gonna do? JD’s not going to open the door for you, and sleeping with him’s not going to make us better.”
“I’m not gonna sleep with him, Christ, blondie. What do you think I am? I’m gonna talk him to death, just like he does everyone else. Once I tell him how much he screwed up, it’s gonna be fine between us, you’ll see.”
The desperation in Jordan’s voice for everything to be okay worried Elliot to no end. Before she could formulate a response however, the phone had clicked dead. When Elliot called again, it took her straight to voicemail.
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Jordan beat on JD’s door sloppily, not feeling any warning that maybe it was too hard. The alcohol swirled dangerously in her system, and she pounded harder.
“For god’s sake, I’m coming!” she heard him yell on the other side of the door.
“Just finish up and open the damn door,” Jordan snapped from the other side, furiously trying to work out exactly how she wanted to phrase her next statement.
JD opened the door with a jerk, staring at Jordan in shocked surprise. “What in god’s name are you doing here?” He frowned. “You know what? I don’t really care.” He began to close it, but Jordan shoved her foot by the jamb, effectively keeping it open.
“I do care. You ruined everything!” she snapped and shoved her way in, uncaring of who or what she ran into.
It was with great surprise that she smacked directly into Kim, a woman she’d only met once in passing through the hospital with Elliot. Sammy sat in the floor, playing with a set of blocks and looking up at the commotion.
“Jordan?” Kim asked with a frown. “Are you drunk?”
“Sure am,” Jordan replied, narrowing her eyes (crossing them more than she meant to, because dammit, nothing in the room would remain still). “Try it more often, but be careful or you’ll pop out another.”
Kim stiffened and stood. “JD, this really isn’t helping.”
“Jordan, now’s really not a good time for you to have a meltdown. Could you please just go back to wherever you came from and torture some other small child?” JD asked, unable to keep the edge of pleading in his voice.
He had just finished getting Kim on his side that Perry was a fine influence for Sammy to be around, and it would do their child some good to be around other children that he could grow up with.
Kim had finally, and uneasily, agreed. After all, Jack and Jennifer seemed well-adjusted enough, and Jordan had found something good with Elliot, so everything couldn’t be all bad.
Until Jordan had burst through the door, drunk as a skunk, and hardly coordinated enough to look either one of them in the eye.
“I’m just going to take Sammy and we’ll talk later,” Kim said, pulling Sammy off the floor.
“Don’t give me that princess-to-peon tone of voice!” Jordan snapped, the rage clear in her voice. “I invented that voice.”
“I’m sure you did,” Kim retorted patronizingly. “Say goodbye to Daddy, Sam.”
JD sighed, seeing the mistrust back in Kim’s eyes again. “I’ll see you next weekend, Sam. Love you.”
Sam beat at his father hand in a sloppy high-five motion. “Bye!” he crowed, having finally mastered the art of greetings.
As soon as the door shut, JD stared in disgust at Jordan. “What the hell is your problem? Can’t you stand to see anyone else be happy?”
“No,” Jordan said almost cheerfully. “Having trouble in paradise there, DJ?”
“I wouldn’t be if you’d have kept out of it.” He sighed. “I’m gonna get you some coffee and call Elliot.”
“No, I came over here to talk to you,” Jordan interrupted, tapping his shoulder and frowning when she hit the counter instead.
JD blinked at her. God, she was totally trashed. He struggled his temper down, though hurt and burning still ran like acid through his system.
“Then say what you need to,” JD finally muttered. He plunked a cup of coffee on the countertop and forced her to sit on the barstool there. “As long as you sit down.”
Jordan nodded, but didn’t touch the coffee. “How long you been shacking up with Per-bear?”
JD’s face immediately colored and he shot back from where he’d just sat on the couch. “What the hell business is it of yours? We’re not shacking up anyway.”
“Liar,” Jordan spat.
“What pisses you off; that he’s not hurting or that he’s replaced you?” JD finally snapped back, anger getting the best of him.
Jordan glared at him, weaving drunkenly towards him. “What pisses me off is that I care about what he’s doing at all. It’s why I left him, so I wouldn’t have to care anymore that he’s been making puppydog eyes at you for years. I’m supposed to be happy with Elliot; why the hell should I even give a rat’s ass that he’s screwing you now?”
“He’s not screwing me, Jordan!” JD yelled. “What the hell is your problem anyway? Are you off your meds?”
He’d meant it as an insult, but a look of ashamed guilt suddenly flew across Jordan’s face, gone in an instant that made JD approach her cautiously.
“Jordan, you’ve got to take them.”
“Back off, DJ! Why can’t you just leave Per alone to stir in his own alcoholic juices? That’s how it’s supposed to be, and then when I’m done with Elliot, I can be happy with him again,” Jordan rattled off. “That’s how it’s supposed to work, and then I don’t have to force myself to sing off-key while Elliot makes waffles that totally kick your waffles’ ass.”
JD frowned, not understanding a whip of what she’d said at the end. “Jordan, you’ve got to calm down and get some sleep,” he finally said wearily. “I’ll call Elliot, and she can take care of you.”
“I don’t want Elliot,” Jordan said, her voice suddenly tired as she flopped on the couch. “I want Perry to be miserable again, I want things back to normal.”
The loud knock on the door that came next drowned out anything JD was about to say next, and he went to answer it, in shock that at the bottom of it all, Jordan simply preferred the misery to happiness.
JD was starting to wonder if Jordan or Perry knew how to simply be happy.
His neighbors were going to have a fucking heyday if people didn’t stop beating his damn door.
This time, it was Elliot, who looked completely through JD to Jordan, concern and love evident in her gaze.
It cut through JD like a knife as Elliot immediately ran past him, and knelt in front of Jordan, babbling about something to do with the damn waffles.
“Would you two kindly get the hell out of here now?” JD asked in a prickly voice. “Don’t you think you’ve done enough by now?”
Elliot glared at him. “JD, can you not do this right now?”
“You’d prefer a time more convenient? Tell your girlfriend that the next time she wants to beat on my door when I’m trying to convince the mother of my child that my apartment is perfectly safe for our son to be at. She raged in here like a bat out of hell!”
“She’s angry and she’s off her meds, JD! Give her a break.”
JD kicked open the door. “I’m not giving her or you a break. You’re living with her, you make her take her goddamn meds! You just-just-“ He stopped, unable to finish for the anger that bled into him. “Get out.”
Elliot didn’t say another word, only hoisted Jordan’s arm around her neck. “We’re going to talk,” she said to Jordan bitingly.
Jordan’s head jerked up, having apparently drifted off during Elliot and JD’s discussion. “I don’t wanna talk,” she mumbled.
“Too bad.”
JD slammed the door behind them. He then picked up a pillow and screamed into it as loudly as he could out of sheer frustration. Throat hoarse and feeling just a bit better, JD walked in a trance to his bedroom, falling into the bed and hoping that sleep would give him a respite from the frustration and anger.
Life, it seemed, wasn’t going to be that kind. Sleep wouldn’t come, and JD found his anger placing itself directly at Perry. If it hadn’t been for him, his angry ways, his cutting words, his cruel rants…
Well, Jordan had to have picked all that up somewhere, didn’t she?
JD grabbed his keys resolutely. This had to end, and it had to end now. What he couldn’t ignore, what made him even angrier, was the fact that his hands shook at the very thought. So he gripped his keys tightly in his hand, and switched the grip to the steering wheel.
His knuckles were the same, nerve-wracking, shiny white that Perry’s had been just days ago.
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The minute Jordan stepped through the front door of the house, she went for the liquor cabinet.
“Do you really think that’s the best idea you’ve ever had?” Elliot said, voice barely controlled.
“Why yes, princess. I believe it is.” Jordan didn’t bother with a glass, and began to lift the bottle straight to her mouth.
“Too bad,” Elliot snapped and yanked it away from her. “How long have you been skipping your meds?” she asked bluntly.
“What do you know about it?” Jordan retorted, feeling a bit whiny and petulant. “I don’t always need them so I don’t always take them.”
“Bull,” Elliot said immediately. “Dammit, Jordan, you know you have to take them to-“ She cut herself off.
Jordan’s eyes narrowed, and hurt flashed through her features. “To what? Be normal?”
“I wasn’t going to say that-“
“Then what? To function properly? To live a happy life?” Jordan reached for the bottle Elliot held in her hand. “Give me my bottle of happy then.”
Elliot resolutely held it away. “Jordan, talk to me. What’s the matter? Why are you being like this?”
“Those meds never did anything but make me feel like a zombie,” Jordan muttered. “They made me complacent; I only needed them when I was with Perry. I shouldn’t have to take them with you too!”
“It’s not situational, Jordan,” Elliot pointed out. “And you know that. What’s really bugging you?” Elliot gently pulled her down to the couch.
Jordan tugged away from her, glaring at her for a moment. “He’s supposed to be miserable without me.”
“He is. Maybe you’re just not seeing it the way you should be.”
“He certainly found his way into DJ’s pants to make it feel better,” Jordan mumbled, the alcohol seeming to take its toll on her. She laid her head on Elliot’s shoulder, needing the comfort now. “He’s supposed to want me back.”
Elliot slid an arm around her shoulders and stroked her hair. “Let him go, Jordan. We wanted this more than anything.”
Jordan mumbled something unintelligible, arms sliding around Elliot’s waist. She slid down further, curling on the couch and leaning her head into Elliot’s lap like a child would a mother.
Elliot sighed, fingers running over Jordan’s tangled hair. She debated now taking her to the hospital for rehydration and a psych eval, neither of which she knew Jordan would appreciate.
Instead, Elliot flipped on the television, found a music channel with quiet, tranquil easy-listening, and leaned her head back as she continued to stroke Jordan’s hair and wonder what in the hell they were going to do when Jordan woke.
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Perry had just finished putting Jennifer and Jack down when the phone rang. He frowned, glancing at his watch. It was nearly nine at night, and the kids had been tired and a little uneasy after their mother’s outburst.
He couldn’t blame them, and struggled to fight the rage that burbled up. They were reliving his childhood, it seemed, after everything he’d done to make sure they didn’t.
The ring persisted, and Perry debated on whether or not to answer it. He couldn’t handle JD right now, and he knew what he’d do if it were Elliot or Jordan. Still, the phone kept blaring and he didn’t want Jack or Jennifer waking up to it.
It’d be impossible to get them back to sleep then.
“Hello?” he grunted more than answered.
“Dr. Cox, this is Kim.”
Perry gave a mild look of surprise and irritation. “What?” he asked rudely.
“I wanted to talk to you about Sammy and JD,” Kim said firmly.
“So talk. JD’s a big boy; he can take care of himself, you know,” Perry replied, crossing one arm against his chest out of defensive habit.
“I just don’t think you’re a very good influence on either of them. I really don’t care what JD does on his time, but when he’s with Sammy, I’d much prefer it if you didn’t come around.”
Perry frowned at that. “I don’t think it’s much your business. Besides, when are you gonna tell Sammy that you lied to his father and told him you miscarried him?”
Kim’s tone hardened. “I hardly think that’s appropriate. I don’t want you hanging around my son. Your wife’s obviously been affected by your behavior; Elliot says she’s been going downhill for weeks. It’s a wonder what you’ve done to your kids.”
“Now listen here,” Perry snapped quietly so as not to wake the kids. “Sam’s not just your son; he’s JD’s son too, and he’ll damn well do whatever he thinks is right for Sam, not for you. As for me and my children, they are great, well-adjusted children. The only part of the story you’ve been getting is the rants and diatribes of a straw-haired mess of neuroses.”
Kim didn’t falter. “I don’t want you around my son.”
“You know what?” Perry growled. “Fucking shove it. JD loves his son and he’d never do anything to harm him, and neither would I. I defended you when everyone thought you were being an idiot, and this is what you start to pull? Go to hell.”
Perry slammed the phone down. At this point, all he wanted to do himself was drink until he passed out in a lovely sea of numbness and dreamless sleep.
It was a dead-end situation, and he was beginning to wonder why it was even worth his time. Kim was half-right; he had problems of his own to be dealing with, and he certainly didn’t need to involve himself with JD’s twisted life as well.
Regardless of that, JD’s twisted life was irrevocably tangled up in his now. Perry ran a hand through his unruly hair, knowing that he needed a shower. He sighed and headed for the bathroom, hoping the hot water would wash away the vibes before he tried to lay down for sleep.
He couldn’t explain the overwhelming defense he’d felt when Kim started attacking JD’s judgment as a parent. Perry knew better; had seen JD with Sammy too many times to think JD was any less than an excellent father.
He turned the hot water on, as scalding as he could stand it, and stepped in, hissing against the burn.
Perry didn’t want to explain anymore, was tired of digging for the truth of the matter. He resolutely leaned his head against the tiled wall, letting the water beat against his neck and massage his achy muscles. He remembered leaving the kid the other day, mostly because Kim was stealing time away from JD and Sammy all because of him.
He hadn’t wanted to fuck up JD’s relationship with his kid. Dammit, Perry was a decent father too; they both knew that. They’d been taking care of all three kids just fine on the weekends here and there, and had even taken care of them sick. That was the definition of good parenting, wasn’t it? To comfort the sick, to play with the energetic, to read to the sleepy?
They did all of that, for all three of them.
Perry stopped his restless movements in the shower. It was so domesticated, so…homey that he suddenly couldn’t think straight. JD had been helping him take care of his kids, and Perry had been helping with Sammy. What the hell were they even doing?
The rage burbled up again that Kim had the utter gall to insinuate that neither of them were decent people to be around. Well, she hadn’t said that of JD, but she might as well have. And that JD wasn’t a good father when he was around?
Perry finished up in the shower and whipped open the shower door. He wrapped a towel around his waist quickly and stalked to the bedroom to throw on a pair of boxers and pajama pants. He was a damn good father, and that stupid moron had no right to accuse him of otherwise.
Perry nodded definitely to himself, and then cursed when he realized she was making him doubt his parenting skills. That was just unacceptable.
Struggling to work the anger down, Perry slid under the covers, even though it was barely nine-thirty. A good night’s sleep might knock it out of him, and he could call JD tomorrow to make sure that Kim was going to let him see Sammy.
Of course, it didn’t matter to him; he still got to see his kids. Perry knew this was a lie, but it was the only thing he could think of to tell himself anymore. He didn’t care, he just didn’t. He couldn’t anymore.
But he knew this was a lie as well. Perry turned restlessly in his sleep, and decided a glass of water might be in order (or scotch, depending on what he got to first).
But as he padded down the hallway and near the kitchen, there was a firm but quiet knock on the door.
“For the love of god,” Perry muttered and opened the door. “You look like a drowned rat, what the hell is wrong with you?”
JD stood there, soaked to the bone. Perry hadn’t even noticed it was raining outside, but as he glanced out the window, it was pouring. JD’s face was twisted into an angry stare, his fists clenched and his breathing shallow.
“I hate you so much right now, I can’t stand it,” JD spat out.
“Gloria, if that’s all you came here to tell me, then I suggest you-“
JD didn’t let him finish. He reared back, as if to hit, but instead grabbed the front of his shirt and slammed his mouth against Perry, demanding and taking until Perry closed his eyes and relaxed against his body and his arms came up of their own accord.
JD’s clothing was wet, he felt like he was freezing. He raised shaking, pale hands to tug hard at Perry’s hair, fingers wrapping tightly in the curls. Perry grunted at the jerking against his scalp, head leaning to the side as JD attacked his neck and bit the skin just as viciously.
“You…you…I hate you,” JD snapped, nipping at his collarbone, wanting to taste and touch and feel. Perry’s skin felt and tasted clean, his dark reddish curls still damp from a recent shower.
Water dripped from JD’s hair and onto the carpet as he pulled his body flush to Perry’s, grinding their hips together and yanking at the curls again when Perry tried to pull away for air, for protest, for talking.
There wasn’t any time for talking any longer. JD kept kissing him, tongue pushing into Perry’s mouth insistently and running over the older man’s teeth. One hand finally dropped from his hair to rest on his hip, fingers stroking the taut skin.
Perry groaned into JD’s mouth, struggling to find reason in the chaos. There was none, only need and want and taste and touch. He felt the tug in his hair again, and instead of rearing against it, leaned into it this time, shocking himself when JD wasn’t shocked at all.
JD felt Perry’s hands grasp at his hips, fingers struggling to move the wet fabric of his shirt and hoodie away. Warm fingers brushed against his skin then, and made him jump in arousal when there was suddenly fingernails dragging against the skin.
Perry felt the answering, painful tug in his hair, and he lifted at JD’s shirt and jacket, pulling both off with some difficulty, given the fabric was thick and wet. He dropped both to the floor, and dropped his head to kiss at the pale skin, hands dragging over JD’s back and trying to seek out the spots that would make the younger man jump, gasp, or thrust against him.
One of those spots turned out to be the pulse point in his neck. Perry bit at it, tongue coming up to run over JD’s ear.
JD didn’t seem to be having any of that, and took control once again to kiss the life out of Perry, to breathe his air, to push so close to him that he couldn’t run away anymore. He wondered now who was trying to run harder, he or JD.
Perry walked them back to the couch, bumping into the coffee table at least once on the way and hearing JD swear when they fell on the couch with a grunt. He wanted to stop this, wanted to take control of what was happening, but lying back on the couch and letting JD go at it instead just felt so good, and felt right, and it was so nice to lay back and let someone else do all of the worrying, the work, the controlling for once.
Perry sat back and cursed himself nine kinds of stupid as he let JD straddle his hips on the couch, just as they’d both been wanting him to do the first time they’d grinded to climax in this very same place. He stared up at JD, uncertainty and anger flashing across his face, disappearing as quickly as they were there.
JD looked confident and aroused, angry and frustrated, needy and completely male. It was almost as if he was ready to punish, to take and give absolutely nothing in return until he had received everything left in Perry to give.
The tenth kind of stupid Perry found himself feeling and believing more than anything (so much so that he didn’t think it was stupid at all) was that everyone kept blaming him, laying the list of wrongs at his feet and expecting him to pick it up under his own tab of things that he still wanted to drink away every night he breathed.
JD stared down at him, hands on Perry’s shoulders, intensity and want running a fervid path through his veins. It scared him, how much he wanted this, but the fear lay so deeply embedded within the anger and arousal that he couldn’t bring it out to stop himself from taking control, from trying to take his anger and desperation out on Perry, who seemed more than willing to step up and take it.
JD opened his mouth to speak, but Perry grabbed him down by his neck to kiss him hard again, not wanting to hear anything that would stop this from happening.
Murmuring against his mouth, groaning as his hips thrust forward of their own accord, JD’s fingers tightened on Perry’s shoulders, tracing down to grab the hem of the older man’s shirt. He pulled up insistently, dropping it to the floor when it was off.
JD tangled his hands in Perry’s hair once again, pulling harshly as he bit at the crook of shoulder and neck. Perry grunted and twisted beneath him, pulling more need, more demand, more of everything that they both wanted so badly.
Eyes burning, bare-chested and far from being cold after the rain, JD leaned back up and ran his mouth across Perry’s again.
“Sure?” he asked quietly, one word that held so much more than either one of them could think to say.
Perry looked at him, their faces so close their noses nearly touched. Emotion flashed across his eyes, his face, his brain trying to think of something to say, trying to bring up sarcasm and cynicism as everything else started to build. He wanted to stop this before it got to be too much, before there wasn’t any turning back, before they did something so stupid that they couldn’t come away unscathed.
There was still only one word that escaped and rolled out of his mouth.
“Yeah.”
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Author’s Notes: Happy Belated Thanksgiving!
--Elise--