Fic: A River in Egypt. JM/DB RPS for fanfic100
Ok, here is one of the RPS stories I had finished. Read it over and it didn't really feel so finished so I've been tweaking it a bit and added to the ending and it feels better now. Still think the ending is a bit odd but I don't think it will get any better. Yeah, and I'm pretty nasty to CK and a few others in this but at least CK will get a better part in the next one. (I thought I'd better post that after this in case I needed to sooth anyones wrath.*g* Tomorrow!)
Title: A River in Egypt
Fandom: Real People
Characters: James Marsters/David Boreanaz + a bunch of other people
Prompt: #26 Teammates
Word Count: ca. 6200
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Drug use, non-con. Pretty dark stuff all over.
Author's Notes: Set during the shooting of Angel S5. Unbetad. Bastardization of characters is obviously intentional but not maliciously so. I'm sure they're all lovely people in reality.
The smoke and noise are filling up his head so he makes his way to the door that leads to the garden, not even bothering to keep the smile on his face. He's tired, grumpy. Too damn sober. And, however much he hates to admit it, the whole thing seems a waste of time since David isn't here. He said he might drop by later but it's already past midnight. Bastard. An image of him fucking that bimbo of a wife flashes before James' eyes and he pushes the door open, desperate for clean air to breathe out this hatred in his heart. The cool evening air feels good on his face and he breaths in the scent of grass and moonlight as he runs his fingers through his hair, brushing out the smoke.
From inside he hears the low whisper of a drawl and silly giggles. Adam chatting up the girls again, fooling them with his half-wit grin and kind eyes. Eyes that can turn dark and dangerous as fast as lightning brightens the sky. James shivers slightly at the memory. Adam has a way to make you believe you want it, that even when you are grunting 'no' what you mean is 'yes' and 'harder'. That your bruises are like medals of honour, proof that you've been in the presence of the mighty Adam and you should be grateful he gave them to you. And if you feel shame it's your own damn fault for being such a whore.
He's learnt his lesson and stays far away. Even if part of him does want it the wise part knows he doesn't. Not really. The charm only works so far.
“Hey. You okay?”
The soft voice makes him jump, choking on the beer he's been slowly sipping. He coughs and sucks in his breath, tears springing to his eyes.
“Fuck, I'm sorry. Didn't mean to startle you.”
Vincent has these big eyes that bring out the soft side in almost everyone. He looks so damn young, so innocent, that for a moment you don't notice the hunger in his eyes or the slight tremble in his hands. But when you do the guilt kicks in because who here hasn't given the kid a smoke or a shot? Or something else. And now, after only a few years of tasting the sweetness of Hollywood fame he's already soaked up all its filth and is hungry for more. A second class River Phoenix waiting to happen.
“It's all right. I just didn't hear you. And yeah, I'm fine. Just tired.”
Vin nods and leans on the railing beside him, a few inches to close, absently swirling the drink in his hand. Some cocktail with a pink umbrella in it. James isn't sure whether to push him away or pull him closer, so he just stays still, keeping his eyes on the street lights visible through the trees. He sips the last drag of beer from the can before crumbling it in his hand and throwing it down into the garden, missing the trash can by the pool by a mile and his missile hits the water with a splash before bobbing up in a circle of expanding rings.
“Fuck.”
Vin laughs. “Joss' gonna be pissed.”
“Not as pissed as when he finds out you peed in the pool.”
The look on the kid's face is priceless. “I didn't pee in the pool!”
James quirks his eyebrow and smiles. “That's what I'm telling him if you snitch to him about that can being mine.”
“I wasn't gonna tell him, you asshole.” Vin shoves his sharp elbow into James side, who yelps and pushes him away before hugging the abused ribs.
“I'm joking, you brat! Fuck, that's gonna bruise. How fucking skinny are you?!”
“Like you don't know.”
He blushes and looks away from those giant eyes. Yeah, he knows. “Shut up.”
The kid licks his lips and turns around, propping his elbows on the railing before leaning back, watching him. “You know, you're old enough to be my dad. That what got you off?”
James stares at him incredulous. “Like hell I am!”
“Oh you so are. Daddy.” Vin smiles at the blush travelling down James' face and spreading across his chest, clearly visible through the half buttoned shirt. “16 years older than me. Not that I'm complaining.” He winks.
James snorts. “I'd have started fucking early then.”
“And did you? Start fucking early?” The smirk is annoying as hell. “Or were you a late bloomer? I heard you were a regular nerd back in your days.” Vin laughs at the angry look on James' face but when he pushes off the railing and heads for the door back inside the kid grabs his arm. “I'm sorry. I'm just fucking with you.”
“Well, that's what you're good at, isn't it? Fucking.” He regrets his words as soon as they're out. The boy may be a slut but there's no reason to rub it in his face. “Sorry. I shouldn't have said that.”
Vin shrugs and turns back, staring out into the dark. “Well, you weren't lying.”
There's an edge to his voice that makes James cringe. Like Vin actually is his kid and he did molest him along with every other perverted fucker on set. He heard David had been quick to teach the kid the ropes as soon as he signed up. What was he then? Even twenty? He calculates in his head and sighs inwardly when he figures Vin was at least 23. He just looks so damn young.
They stand side-by-side in silence for a while, watching the evening fade into night as voices laugh and chatter behind them but then Vin shoves the cocktail his way. “Here, I made this for you. Thought you'd like it.”
Fuck, now he feels even worse. “Thanks. What is it?” He's not much for fruity drinks but he can't exactly refuse it, can he?
“Sex on the beach.” The kid laughs and heads to the door. “Just your style.” He throws him a look and a wink over the shoulder before slipping back inside the smoke filled room.
James can't help smiling even if he can feel himself blushing again. Despite everything that was a good fuck. And one of the best blowjobs he's ever had. The kid has talent, there's no denying that.
The drink is quite all right, a bit sweet for his taste though. He downs it in a few gulps - about time he got properly drunk - before rejoining the party. Andy is playing the piano, softly singing some old tune by Dionne Warwick, and James gives him the thumbs up before heading for the kitchen. Joss is a good host. The fridge is filled with beer and white wine, and bottles of red are waiting patiently on the counter along with various kinds of strong liquor. A beer is just what he needs and he reaches for a Budweiser, loving the coolness covering his palm. Just this one and then he's out of there.
Half an hour later he finds himself sprawled on one of the couches down in the playroom. Jay and Alexis were playing pool a few minutes ago but they've wandered off somewhere, leaving him alone here with a beer in one hand and a joint in the other. Life is good. Life is wonderful. There's a feeling of calm contentment spreading through his veins. He feels perfectly happy for the first time in months. When he closes his eyes his head fills up with images of David's dark eyes and soft lips and naked skin pressing up against his. He smiles and lets one hand drop down, just resting innocently in his lap. Innocently enough anyway. Just moving the thumb a little. Slowly and casually, the light friction just enough to keep him half-hard and fantasising. Thoughts swirl around in his brain, unfinished and sometimes incomprehensible; just images and words struggling to make sense.
“You look wasted, man.”
The weight of someone sitting down beside him on the couch tilts him slightly, the movement making his head swim. There's a warm pat on his knee and he opens his eyes and looks down to find a tanned hand resting on his thigh, the thumb rubbing the strip of pale flesh visible through the rip in his thin-worn jeans. He follows it with his eyes up an arm wearing a plaided shirt, cuffs undone and rolled up, his head finally rolling back as his gaze travels further up. Long hair, grin, blue eyes.
“Yeah? Chris. Hey, Chris.” He smiles lazily, resting his cheek on the back of the couch.
“Hey, Jim.” The grin grows bigger, making the lines around the blue eyes crinkle in amusement. “Enjoying yourself?”
“Yeah, it's all right.” His eyelids feel really, really heavy. “Bit tired.”
“Yeah?” Chris leans closer, eyes flickering down to his lips and then up again. Warm calloused fingers slip under the ripped material, stroking his knee. It feels good.
James closes his eyes. “Uhuh.”
Warm breath smelling of beer and smoke brushes against his cheek. “Maybe we should get you to bed?”
“Nuhuh.” He moves his head slowly from side to side. “Like it here. Nice couch.” Soft, warm.
“Okay. We can stay on the couch.” Chris is pressing into his side and then he feels a wet tongue lick up his neck. Huh.
James half opens his eyes, gazing at him sleepily. “Wha- What are you doing?”
“Tasting you. You taste good, Jimmy. Want to kiss you.”
He feels suddenly hot, like being engulfed in warm water. He should say no. He should... “Okay.”
Chris tilts his head and James closes his eyes again as he feels warm lips pressing against his. God, it feels good. He parts his lips when the tip of a wet tongue prods them and before he knows it he's kissing back, sucking in the taste of whiskey and cigarettes from Chris' mouth. His cock stirs in his pants. David's face flickers through his mind but the image is gone before it really registers.
“Hey! He's mine! Kane, I told you...”
James opens his eyes to find Vin staring down at them, fury burning in his big and anything but innocent eyes. Wrong. Something is wrong. “Wha-?”
“Just tasting him. Ain't that right, Jimmy?” Chris' fingers tug at James' neck and then he kisses him hard once again, kneading his hardening erection through the jeans. When Chris pulls back, licking his lips, James is already lost again, floating on a cloud of not caring. “Getting him ready for you.”
Vin's scowl turns into a smirk and he slinks over, sliding down on James' other side. “You telling me you're gonna give him up so easily?”
It takes James a moment to realise the words aren't directed at him but at Chris, his and Vin's eyes locked in a heated embrace of wickedness. There's something he's missing but he can't seem to care. There are hands all over him, stroking his thighs, tickling his ribs, crawling over his skin; and he finds himself slipping into a coma of desire.
“I thought we'd share.”
Vin hitches his breath a little, the sound making James even harder even if he's not sure why. “That right?”
“Yeah. If you don't mind.”
There is no option in those words, just a statement of how it's gonna be and even if it's not the way he planned it, Vin grins and leans over, taking the peace offering kiss. James watches through heavy lashes as the kiss deepens and he feels oddly alone. David... David was supposed to be here. He tries to lift his head from the back of the couch but it's incredibly heavy, filled with alcohol and smoke and something that doesn't quite feel right but he can't be bothered to worry about it because suddenly they turn their heads and then he's being covered in wet kisses; face, neck and lips.
He had a dream like this once, of being blindfolded and tied up, strangers crawling all over him with wet lips and tongues and fingers like tendrils stroking his body. He'd woken up hard and gasping, turning in desperation to David who slept beside him. David who had growled like a grizzly, pissed off at being woken up but only for a moment and then he was giving James just what he needed with a twist of his fingers and whispers of sinful promises.
There are fingers now, pulling at his pants. David's fingers because he's finally here and all the other stuff was just some weed inspired dream. When they're done he'll tell Dave all about it and watch him laugh at his silly fantasies. And then he'll make James go over it all again in details, who did what and whom even if he can hardly speak as Dave devours his burning skin.
“Dave.”
“If that's what you want. Don't matter one shit to me.” The laughter is low and mocking and sounds nothing like Dave's and for a moment he's worried but then his arms are being lifted and he feels the soft breeze of breath on his skin. He smiles. David loves to undress him. Sometimes slowly, unbuttoning his shirt with the speed of a snail, leaving a trail of kisses drying on his chest as each part is revealed. Sometimes fast, eager to touch his skin, pulling at the fabric in desperation and if it rips into shreds who really cares?
“Oh for Pete's sake, guys! Move it into the bedroom, will ya? Christ!”
It takes him a while but he manages to open his eyes and where did all these people come from? Someone's head is hovering over his chest and it doesn't look like Dave's even if he can still feel Dave's tongue licking him. Chris is sitting beside him, arguing with Alexis who looks like he wants to be anywhere but here. Adam is leaning against the pool table, watching them with those dark eyes that are so pretty and so dangerous.
“He's drunk out of his fucking mind, Chris. Dave won't like this.”
“Dave ain't here. And when the hell did Jimmy become his property?” Chris snorts. “If the old man wants to have some fun, let him have fun.”
The head raises from his lap and that's definitely not Dave. “Yeah, man. Mind your own business.”
“Shut the fuck up, Vin.” Chris' eyes never leave Alexis' but the threat is there all the same.
“But-”
“Shut up or you're out of here.”
James feels like he's watching a badly written scene from a soap opera. The kid is pouting, hunger in his eyes. Chris looks mostly amused if a little annoyed. Alexis seems uncertain and worried and Adam... Adam is still watching him, hand slipped down the front of his jeans. “Hey.”
“Hey, Jimmy. How's it hanging?”
“Your eyes are sparkling.” He laughs and Adam grins at him, winking those pretty, pretty eyes. “They're so pretty, you know that? Pretty, pretty eyes. Evil eyes.”
“Chris, he's completely stoned!” Alexis waves a hand in front of his face and he tries to follow it but it's too hard and he just closes his eyes instead. “What the hell did you give him?”
“He just had some weed. His own stuff so don't look at me.” Chris' hand on his thigh tightens slightly. “Look, what the hell are you accusing me off? You think I'm what? Molesting him?”
“I didn't say that. Christ! I just think maybe you should let him sober up a bit before...”
“He's a grown man. He knows what he's doing.” Warm breath on his face. “Ain't that right, Jimmy boy?” Hand kneading his cock and when did he lose his pants? “You like this, don't ya?”
He moans a 'yeah' because fuck it feels so good and even if he can't remember anymore where he is or what the fuck he's doing here hands rubbing his cock are always good.
“Can't wait for me to fuck your pretty little ass, can you?” A wet tongue slips into his ear, shooting sparks through him like electricity.
“Uhuh.” He pants and shivers, the audience completely forgotten. It's just Dave and him and it's all wonderful. “Yeah.”
“Shit, I'm not staying for this. Adam, you coming?”
“No, I think I'm staying. You don't mind, guys, do you?” Voice as raw and smooth like silk on paper.
“Oh man! Chris! I'm not-”
“Shut up, Vin. Last warning. Sure, you wanna watch or...?”
“I wanna fuck.”
Chris laughs and James finds himself giggling even if he doesn't get the joke.
“Welcome to the party, bro.”
After that it all gets lost in a world of kisses and touches and tastes and smells and he thinks he just might be having the strangest and most erotic dream of his life. Every now and then he opens his eyes and there's white skin on tanned, brown hair with sandy, strong hands holding down thin wrists. All mixed up and for all he knows there are a hundred people in there and at least half of them are him and so the other half must be David.
The cock in his mouth has an unfamiliar taste but stranger things have happened in dreams and he works it until the only taste left is that of the beer and marijuana on his own tongue.
“Take it. Yeah, that's it.” It pushes down his throat, making him gag and then suddenly it's gone, slick hands pushing up his knees. “Shit, I can't wait to fuck you.”
A groan in his ear makes him look over to find Vin with his head pressed into the cushions, a grimaced look of concentration on his face and then his eyes fly wide open and he's staring with black pupils at James, his mouth forming a perfect 'O', sweet air brushing James' face with every puff that escapes from his lips. A big hand comes down to grab the messed up hair, and then Vin's lips are on his, still panting out air even when his tongue pushes in between James' teeth.
They're still kissing when fingers push inside him, thin and short and nothing like David's fingers at all. Again he feels a flicker of doubt but it's hard to concentrate and the thought flutters away as quickly as it came.
“Oh yeah, open up for me. That's it. Look at you two sluts kissing. Christ.”
He moans into Vin's mouth as he's filled with one finger after another until he's sure he's counted at least fifteen and that can't be right? It burns but he doesn't care because with every sting of pain is a wave of pleasure and that's all that matters. They're pushing inside him so hard he's rocking back and forth and keeps losing hold of Vin's tongue. Then suddenly they're gone, leaving him empty and whining for more.
“God, you really are a whore. No wonder Dave likes you so much.” Chris is panting, his voice strained and so very very far away. “Throw me one, will ya?”
“Here.”
There's sound of kissing and then something being ripped open. He's about to ask Dave what he's doing, they stopped using condoms months ago, but then... oh god! His whimpers turn to moans as he's filled up and the whole world is lost.
He flickers in and out of existence, his head filled with images of cocks and smiles and eyes that will scare his later dreams. At one point he hears himself screaming and he's burning inside and then he can't breath because a huge palm is covering his mouth. Pain, pain until... God, he's pushing back wanting more, needing more and why oh why is the whole world spinning and when did it go so black?
-----------
“Jimmy? What the fuck happened here?”
Hard voice. Angry. James opens his eyes and rolls his head until it faces more or less forward. Dark pants, dark shirt, dark, dark eyes.
“Hey, Dave.” Happy smile. “David. Davey. You came.”
“What the fuck's been going on here? Chris?” David's angry eyes are looking a bit to the right of him and he turns his head to find a messy haired Chris blinking sleep out of his eyes.
“Huh?”
“What did you do to him?”
Chris yawns and stretches like a cat beside him before giving David a careless glance. “Nothing. Didn't do anything he wasn't begging for.” He pats James' thigh and it feels strangely familiar.
“Don't give me that shit, Kane.”
Chris' laugh is short and cold. “You're not his daddy, Dave. You don't fucking own him. If he wants-”
David grabs Chris by the shoulder and leans into his face, practically spitting as he cuts him off. “Does he look like he knows what he wants? What the fuck has he been taking?”
The hand leaves James' thigh, proclaiming innocence in its rise. “Hey, man! I'm not...”
“Just fucking tell me.”
Dave's hand looks huge on Chris' shoulder, like a bear paw crushing it. Actually Dave looks pretty much like a big papa bear with those broad shoulders and knitted eyebrows. A giggle bubbles in James' lungs, tickling his throat on the way up, forcing its way past his lips. He tries to smother it with his palm but it's no good. They both look at him, Dave scowling, Chris failing miserably at hiding a smirk.
“Fuck if I know. Vin had some pills earlier. He might have... I don't know.” Chris shrugs and grabs his shirt from the sofa table. “Ask him.”
“Fuck!” David sits down on the low table, grabbing James' arms, shaking him slightly. “Jim, did you take any drugs? Jimmy? Look at me!”
He pouts. “Can't remember.” It's true. He really can't. He can't even remember where he is. Some party. With his friends. Best fucking friends ever. Especially Dave. “You're the best, you know? You know that, Dave? I like you most of all.” He feels suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude, tears springing to his eyes. “My b-best friend. My Davey.” Sobs choke his voice and he reaches for David's hand, clutching it in his sweaty palms. “Love you, man. Love you so damn much.”
“Jesus! I can't believe this!” David wrenches his hand free in disgust. “Get your fucking head together, Jimmy.”
The sharp voice cuts through his brain and he winces, the pain making his stomach turn. “Fuck. I...” Sucking in breath only to clasp his hand over his mouth.
“Oh for Christ's sake! Come here.”
David is dragging him to his feet and to his amazement he can actually stand. Walking on the other hand... Right before his face hits the floor he's yanked up again and then Dave's arm is around his waist, dragging him across the living room and down the hall. His body hurts all over, like he just ran the fucking marathon. Naked. With the Olympic torch up his ass. “Dave?” He coughs and his throat hurts. “Dave!?!”
“Is he all right?”
Pretty face. Pretty eyes and pretty lips and fucking huge tits. 'Hey, CC!' he tries but all he manages is a low keening sound.
“He better be. Tell Vin to keep his fucking drugs to himself.”
“Jesus!” She stands staring after them as they stumble further in the hall, finally reaching the bathroom.
David holds James up with one fist clutching his shirt as he flips open the lid on the toilet then shoves him down on his knees and holds his head above the bowl. Nothing happens. “Stick your finger down your throat.”
“I don't wan-” He chokes as David pries his mouth open and thrusts a thick finger past his tongue and within seconds he's convulsing, vomit spewing from his mouth and into the white bowl. Oh God. When he's finally done his belly is aching and he's gasping for breath, tears running from his eyes.
“Done?”
He nods, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. There's a foul taste in his mouth, booze and snacks and the burrito he now remembers he had before coming here. David grabs his shoulder and pulls him to his feet, holding him steady when he starts to sway.
“Clean your mouth. I'll see if I can find an unused toothbrush, if not we'll just use Joss'.” He's watching James in the mirror above the sink, shutting him up with one cold look when he tries to object. “Wouldn't be the first time you had his spit in your mouth. Or worse.”
The blood rushes to James' face and he looks down, staring into the sink. “Fuck you.”
“I'm not the one that's been fucking, am I? You let him take you?”
James' head snaps up and he stares at David's angry face in the mirror. “What?”
“Chris. You let him fuck you?”
“Wha-? No! I just got here. Had some beer and... I just dozed off. I think.” But he suddenly feels sick again from deep within his belly, like his gut's being wrenched inside out.
“It's half past two in the morning, Jim. Alexis called me and said you were all fucked up. Were you? Fucked?” The voice is cold.
Inside. Out. “No.” There's a bruise the size of the devil's lips on his throat. “I just...” The aching inside suddenly magnifies to the point of stabbing. “I just got here, Dave.” His legs start giving away and he grabs the sink for support. “I was... I was waiting for you.”
Dave sighs behind him, a sigh he's too familiar with. Disappointment and exasperation in one heavy package. “Why do you pull these stunts, Jim? You're not a teenager anymore.”
He swallows and looks away. “I'm just drunk. I'm not the only one.”
“You're not just drunk. Look at you.”
He raises his head again, avoiding Dave's stare in the mirror, and gazes at his own reflection. Pupils wide and black, ruptured veins making his eyes pink. Sweat gleaming on his skin, face paler than usual. He looks sick. Old. Totally stoned. Shit.
“Wha-what did I take?”
David rolls his eyes. “You telling me you don't remember?”
“No.” Breathe, breathe. Slow and deep. “Just... drinking. Beer. And some fucking fruity cocktail Vin gave me.” Nausea clenches his throat. “Sweet enough to kill my teeth.”
David stares at him and then his face goes red with fury. “That fucker! I'll fucking kill him.” He straightens up and heads for the door but James grabs his arm and stops him at the last minute.
“Don't. Please, Dave.” He tries for a smile. “If you leave me I'll fall over and crack my head.”
David hesitates for a second before turning back, his hand shaking slightly as it opens the medicine cabinet. He finds a new toothbrush and rips the package open. “Better drink some water. Need to clear your head.” There's a glass on the shelf and he turns on the tap, testing the water with his pinky before filling the glass and handing it to James. “At least three glasses.”
He doesn't answer, doesn't tell Dave to stop treating him like a baby - he's over forty for Christ's sake! - just accepts the glass and drinks the water down before filling the glass again. And again and again until his stomach feels bloated with water.
“Feel better?”
He closes his eyes briefly. He still feels dizzy but not quite as confused, like the cotton is lifting from his brain. The nausea is slowly dissolving but he still aches in places he shouldn't. No. He must be wrong. “Yeah.”
Dave nods and hands him the toothbrush. “Brush your teeth.”
That makes him smile despite everything. “Yes, daddy.”
David glares at him but he can't keep the grin away for long. “Just as well Chris didn't hear that.”
James swallows the bile in his throat and flips him the finger before squeezing some paste on the toothbrush. David waits patiently until he's done, rolling his eyes when James puts the toothbrush into the glass with Joss'. They're identical. Joss won't be pleased, trying to figure out which one is his and who the hell used the other one.
“Come on.”
They make their way slowly back, David's arm around James' shoulders to steady him. The party has slowed down, the music's changed from rock to slow jazz. The girls are out by the pool, smoking and drinking cocktails. Amy looks way too thin in that dress, as feminine as a crowbar next to Charisma's revealing backless minithing that shows off every curve of her body, especially the rich fullness of her still lactating breasts. Sarah T and Mercedes are competing for the Slut Award, Sarah winning the prize for Desperate Attempt. She looks like a hooker.
Vin is fortunately nowhere to be seen, probably snorting some shit up his nose in the upstairs bathroom. Chris is gone as well but James can hear Jay and Adam laughing in the kitchen. His stomach does another twist, his hearts starts pounding in his chest and the fact that he doesn't know why scares the shit out of him.
“Can we just go?”
“Sure.”
David steers him through the house and out the door, not bothering with goodbyes. His car stands waiting, all black and slick, and James bites his lip to keep the groan in when he sits down. Shut up. It's not true.
“You all right?
He forces a smile unto his lips. “Yeah. Just tired.”
“I'll take you home.”
They drive in silence. James stares out the window, counting trees and cars and running lines from Hamlet through his head, whatever it takes to keep the thoughts from connecting in his chaotic mind.
“Come on. Up you go.”
He jerks awake and flinches from David's hand on his arm before realising who he is and where they are. David helps him out of the car and they walk slowly to the door, David wrestling the keys from James' pocket and opening the door.
“Jesus, Jim. Do you ever let any air in here? It smells like a fucking orgy went on in here.” Dave laughs and throws open a window.
“Shut up.” His stomach does another somersault, the cramps squeezing his bladder. “I need to piss.”
He stumbles into the bathroom, flips open the lid and sits down heavily. Damn the fucking button. David stands in the doorway, watching him with an amused expression while he struggles to loosen his jeans as his bladder threatens to erupt. Finally he hauls James up and loosens his pants while he rests his forehead on David's broad chest. He smells good. Safe.
“There you go.”
He sinks down again, elbows on his knees, aching head in his hands. Aching... other places. No. When he's done he pulls up his pants, zips them, and stands swaying, watching David's politely turned back.
“Do you mind... the bed. I'm fucking dying here.”
“Come on, you sissy.”
Dave is half-way through undressing him as he lies on the bed when he stops and steps back, eyes wide in a pale face. “Who did that?”
“What?” James raises his tired head and looks down. Celtic patterns of fingerprints bruising his chest, yellow-white flakes crusting on his skin. “No.” He wipes at them with shaky hands.
“You lied to me.”
“No!” It's not true. “There's some mistake.” He's choking on his own breath, tasting cum and sweat and despair on his tongue.
“You got that right. Was it Chris? I hear he likes to play rough. Because I know you didn't let a little shit like Vin plough your ass, did you?” Dave rips at his jeans, shaking with anger. “Did you!?!”
“Shut up! Shut up!!” James claws at his hands, trying to keep him from the zipper but even on a good day he's no match for David. In the end he gives up and goes limp as David pulls down his jeans, laying the truth out in plain sight. Rough hands turn gentle as they slide over his skin and swipe at the blood on his thighs.
“No.” Stop it. Go away. Leave me. Please. Oh God.
“God, why? Why did you let him do this to you?”
“I didn't! No one did anything to me.” He throws a shaky arm over his eyes, it sticks to his wet lashes. “Nothing happened.”
David's smeared fingers come up to his face, forcing the smell into his nostrils. “Nothing happened? How fucking stupid do you think I am?”
“I just fell asleep. I just...” He starts weeping, angry tears of denial. “It must be something else.”
Silence. David steps closer and then there's a warm hand on his shoulder, the touch gentle and unsure. “You really don't remember.”
“There's nothing to remember!”
“Jimmy...”
“I was waiting for you! And I fell asleep. That's all.” He turns on his side, hiding his face in the pillows. “I was just waiting for you!”
David sits down on the bed beside him, stroking his hair with a trembling hand. “I'm sorry. I should have been there. So was it just Chris or...?”
“No one! Nothing happened.”
“Okay. All right. Calm down.” Deep shaky breaths. “Wait here.”
David stands up and moves away into the living room. The spot where he sat feels cold and James is filled with an overwhelming need to beg him to stay but bites it down. He can hear the murmur of a voice, the tone frozen with suppressed anger.
“I could have you arrested, you prick. Yeah? Think that's all they'll find if I make them run a drugtest? Shut the fuck up! No. I don't care. Just playing!?! Are you fucking kidding me? No. No one wants this! Who else? No, I want you to tell me. Tell me or I'll come over right now and rip your fucking balls off. I'm not joking. Chris, tell me! What!?! Shit. I should have known. This ain't over, Chris. Did you use protection? No. He can't remember shit, you asshole. You call that consensus? Like hell you didn't know. No, fuck you!”
The loud crash makes James jump and he turns his head to find David standing in the doorway, trembling with rage. “What?”
“Chris, Vin and...” His hesitation is painful. “Adam.”
He shakes his head. “No. There was no one.”
David doesn't seem to hear him. “He says they used condoms but we should get you checked anyway.”
“No.”
“He says he doesn't know what drug Vin used but-”
“No! There was nothing.”
Silence.
“You should report them.”
His head is exploding from shaking so much. Denial, denial, denial. “There's nothing to report. Nothing happened.”
David sighs and walks over, the hand on James' shoulder still trembling. “Look, it's your call but I'll go with you, whatever has to be done, all right?”
He wants to grab the hand and clutch it to his chest but instead he swats it away. “Nothing. Forget about it. It was a misunderstanding.”
“Jimmy...”
“I was drunk and maybe I did stuff I shouldn't have. That's all. Drop it.”
“You have to work with them. Everyday. How do you think that's gonna work-?”
“And how is it gonna work if I accuse them of... of... Forget it, Dave. Let's just drop it.”
David stands silent, watching him. Then he turns around and starts walking out, pausing without looking back. “It's called rape, Jimmy. And tomorrow I'm taking Alexis and Jay with me to beat the shit out of them, all right?”
“Dave, no.”
“I wasn't asking your permission.”
He closes the door and a moment later James hears the TV being turned on. The realisation that David is staying makes his breath hitch and it doesn't matter that he's out there, as far away as he can be without actually leaving the apartment, that he can't stand to be in the same room as James, can't stand to look at him or touch him. It doesn't matter, just as long as he doesn't leave.
James lies watching the dark until in the early morning hours he falls asleep to the sound of the TV still glowing in the living room and the smell of David's cigarettes in his nostrils. When he wakes up it's dark again and he's alone and sleep has replaced his denial with cold reality. He doesn't even make it to the bathroom door but stands doubled over in the hall, retching until there's nothing left inside but bitter shame and sorrow. Then he stumbles back a few steps and slides down to the floor, drawing up his knees and hugging them to his chest. He's never felt so alone in his whole life.
When David shows up hours later with bruised knuckles and fury still glowing in his eyes James sits curled up on the couch, a tall glass of water and a bottle of painkillers on the low table in front of him. They watch each other, silent. James imagines his whole world slipping away, that with a turn of a heel and a slam of the door David will bring an end to the only purpose in his life these last seven years. So when David finally does move he closes his eyes because he just can't stand to watch him leave. Which is why the gentle stroke of Dave's warm fingers on his face and the soft kiss on his lips surprises him enough that he's crying before he has the chance to catch himself.
“I'm so sorry, Dave. So fucking sorry.”
“Sshh. Not your fault. You hear me? Not you. Them, not you.”
His breath smells of blood and his lips taste of sweat but his eyes are no longer angry and his touches have never been so gentle. And still James has to fight not to push him away when the comfort turns to passion.
“Please, Dave.” Hold me. Touch me. Love me. Get the fuck away from me. “I...”
“Not you, Jimmy. It's okay. They're the bastards, not you.”
'Not you. Not you. Not you.' Like a mantra in his head. 'Them. Not you.'
Them. Not David. Them. Not David. Not David. Not David.
fin
Title: A River in Egypt
Fandom: Real People
Characters: James Marsters/David Boreanaz + a bunch of other people
Prompt: #26 Teammates
Word Count: ca. 6200
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Drug use, non-con. Pretty dark stuff all over.
Author's Notes: Set during the shooting of Angel S5. Unbetad. Bastardization of characters is obviously intentional but not maliciously so. I'm sure they're all lovely people in reality.
The smoke and noise are filling up his head so he makes his way to the door that leads to the garden, not even bothering to keep the smile on his face. He's tired, grumpy. Too damn sober. And, however much he hates to admit it, the whole thing seems a waste of time since David isn't here. He said he might drop by later but it's already past midnight. Bastard. An image of him fucking that bimbo of a wife flashes before James' eyes and he pushes the door open, desperate for clean air to breathe out this hatred in his heart. The cool evening air feels good on his face and he breaths in the scent of grass and moonlight as he runs his fingers through his hair, brushing out the smoke.
From inside he hears the low whisper of a drawl and silly giggles. Adam chatting up the girls again, fooling them with his half-wit grin and kind eyes. Eyes that can turn dark and dangerous as fast as lightning brightens the sky. James shivers slightly at the memory. Adam has a way to make you believe you want it, that even when you are grunting 'no' what you mean is 'yes' and 'harder'. That your bruises are like medals of honour, proof that you've been in the presence of the mighty Adam and you should be grateful he gave them to you. And if you feel shame it's your own damn fault for being such a whore.
He's learnt his lesson and stays far away. Even if part of him does want it the wise part knows he doesn't. Not really. The charm only works so far.
“Hey. You okay?”
The soft voice makes him jump, choking on the beer he's been slowly sipping. He coughs and sucks in his breath, tears springing to his eyes.
“Fuck, I'm sorry. Didn't mean to startle you.”
Vincent has these big eyes that bring out the soft side in almost everyone. He looks so damn young, so innocent, that for a moment you don't notice the hunger in his eyes or the slight tremble in his hands. But when you do the guilt kicks in because who here hasn't given the kid a smoke or a shot? Or something else. And now, after only a few years of tasting the sweetness of Hollywood fame he's already soaked up all its filth and is hungry for more. A second class River Phoenix waiting to happen.
“It's all right. I just didn't hear you. And yeah, I'm fine. Just tired.”
Vin nods and leans on the railing beside him, a few inches to close, absently swirling the drink in his hand. Some cocktail with a pink umbrella in it. James isn't sure whether to push him away or pull him closer, so he just stays still, keeping his eyes on the street lights visible through the trees. He sips the last drag of beer from the can before crumbling it in his hand and throwing it down into the garden, missing the trash can by the pool by a mile and his missile hits the water with a splash before bobbing up in a circle of expanding rings.
“Fuck.”
Vin laughs. “Joss' gonna be pissed.”
“Not as pissed as when he finds out you peed in the pool.”
The look on the kid's face is priceless. “I didn't pee in the pool!”
James quirks his eyebrow and smiles. “That's what I'm telling him if you snitch to him about that can being mine.”
“I wasn't gonna tell him, you asshole.” Vin shoves his sharp elbow into James side, who yelps and pushes him away before hugging the abused ribs.
“I'm joking, you brat! Fuck, that's gonna bruise. How fucking skinny are you?!”
“Like you don't know.”
He blushes and looks away from those giant eyes. Yeah, he knows. “Shut up.”
The kid licks his lips and turns around, propping his elbows on the railing before leaning back, watching him. “You know, you're old enough to be my dad. That what got you off?”
James stares at him incredulous. “Like hell I am!”
“Oh you so are. Daddy.” Vin smiles at the blush travelling down James' face and spreading across his chest, clearly visible through the half buttoned shirt. “16 years older than me. Not that I'm complaining.” He winks.
James snorts. “I'd have started fucking early then.”
“And did you? Start fucking early?” The smirk is annoying as hell. “Or were you a late bloomer? I heard you were a regular nerd back in your days.” Vin laughs at the angry look on James' face but when he pushes off the railing and heads for the door back inside the kid grabs his arm. “I'm sorry. I'm just fucking with you.”
“Well, that's what you're good at, isn't it? Fucking.” He regrets his words as soon as they're out. The boy may be a slut but there's no reason to rub it in his face. “Sorry. I shouldn't have said that.”
Vin shrugs and turns back, staring out into the dark. “Well, you weren't lying.”
There's an edge to his voice that makes James cringe. Like Vin actually is his kid and he did molest him along with every other perverted fucker on set. He heard David had been quick to teach the kid the ropes as soon as he signed up. What was he then? Even twenty? He calculates in his head and sighs inwardly when he figures Vin was at least 23. He just looks so damn young.
They stand side-by-side in silence for a while, watching the evening fade into night as voices laugh and chatter behind them but then Vin shoves the cocktail his way. “Here, I made this for you. Thought you'd like it.”
Fuck, now he feels even worse. “Thanks. What is it?” He's not much for fruity drinks but he can't exactly refuse it, can he?
“Sex on the beach.” The kid laughs and heads to the door. “Just your style.” He throws him a look and a wink over the shoulder before slipping back inside the smoke filled room.
James can't help smiling even if he can feel himself blushing again. Despite everything that was a good fuck. And one of the best blowjobs he's ever had. The kid has talent, there's no denying that.
The drink is quite all right, a bit sweet for his taste though. He downs it in a few gulps - about time he got properly drunk - before rejoining the party. Andy is playing the piano, softly singing some old tune by Dionne Warwick, and James gives him the thumbs up before heading for the kitchen. Joss is a good host. The fridge is filled with beer and white wine, and bottles of red are waiting patiently on the counter along with various kinds of strong liquor. A beer is just what he needs and he reaches for a Budweiser, loving the coolness covering his palm. Just this one and then he's out of there.
Half an hour later he finds himself sprawled on one of the couches down in the playroom. Jay and Alexis were playing pool a few minutes ago but they've wandered off somewhere, leaving him alone here with a beer in one hand and a joint in the other. Life is good. Life is wonderful. There's a feeling of calm contentment spreading through his veins. He feels perfectly happy for the first time in months. When he closes his eyes his head fills up with images of David's dark eyes and soft lips and naked skin pressing up against his. He smiles and lets one hand drop down, just resting innocently in his lap. Innocently enough anyway. Just moving the thumb a little. Slowly and casually, the light friction just enough to keep him half-hard and fantasising. Thoughts swirl around in his brain, unfinished and sometimes incomprehensible; just images and words struggling to make sense.
“You look wasted, man.”
The weight of someone sitting down beside him on the couch tilts him slightly, the movement making his head swim. There's a warm pat on his knee and he opens his eyes and looks down to find a tanned hand resting on his thigh, the thumb rubbing the strip of pale flesh visible through the rip in his thin-worn jeans. He follows it with his eyes up an arm wearing a plaided shirt, cuffs undone and rolled up, his head finally rolling back as his gaze travels further up. Long hair, grin, blue eyes.
“Yeah? Chris. Hey, Chris.” He smiles lazily, resting his cheek on the back of the couch.
“Hey, Jim.” The grin grows bigger, making the lines around the blue eyes crinkle in amusement. “Enjoying yourself?”
“Yeah, it's all right.” His eyelids feel really, really heavy. “Bit tired.”
“Yeah?” Chris leans closer, eyes flickering down to his lips and then up again. Warm calloused fingers slip under the ripped material, stroking his knee. It feels good.
James closes his eyes. “Uhuh.”
Warm breath smelling of beer and smoke brushes against his cheek. “Maybe we should get you to bed?”
“Nuhuh.” He moves his head slowly from side to side. “Like it here. Nice couch.” Soft, warm.
“Okay. We can stay on the couch.” Chris is pressing into his side and then he feels a wet tongue lick up his neck. Huh.
James half opens his eyes, gazing at him sleepily. “Wha- What are you doing?”
“Tasting you. You taste good, Jimmy. Want to kiss you.”
He feels suddenly hot, like being engulfed in warm water. He should say no. He should... “Okay.”
Chris tilts his head and James closes his eyes again as he feels warm lips pressing against his. God, it feels good. He parts his lips when the tip of a wet tongue prods them and before he knows it he's kissing back, sucking in the taste of whiskey and cigarettes from Chris' mouth. His cock stirs in his pants. David's face flickers through his mind but the image is gone before it really registers.
“Hey! He's mine! Kane, I told you...”
James opens his eyes to find Vin staring down at them, fury burning in his big and anything but innocent eyes. Wrong. Something is wrong. “Wha-?”
“Just tasting him. Ain't that right, Jimmy?” Chris' fingers tug at James' neck and then he kisses him hard once again, kneading his hardening erection through the jeans. When Chris pulls back, licking his lips, James is already lost again, floating on a cloud of not caring. “Getting him ready for you.”
Vin's scowl turns into a smirk and he slinks over, sliding down on James' other side. “You telling me you're gonna give him up so easily?”
It takes James a moment to realise the words aren't directed at him but at Chris, his and Vin's eyes locked in a heated embrace of wickedness. There's something he's missing but he can't seem to care. There are hands all over him, stroking his thighs, tickling his ribs, crawling over his skin; and he finds himself slipping into a coma of desire.
“I thought we'd share.”
Vin hitches his breath a little, the sound making James even harder even if he's not sure why. “That right?”
“Yeah. If you don't mind.”
There is no option in those words, just a statement of how it's gonna be and even if it's not the way he planned it, Vin grins and leans over, taking the peace offering kiss. James watches through heavy lashes as the kiss deepens and he feels oddly alone. David... David was supposed to be here. He tries to lift his head from the back of the couch but it's incredibly heavy, filled with alcohol and smoke and something that doesn't quite feel right but he can't be bothered to worry about it because suddenly they turn their heads and then he's being covered in wet kisses; face, neck and lips.
He had a dream like this once, of being blindfolded and tied up, strangers crawling all over him with wet lips and tongues and fingers like tendrils stroking his body. He'd woken up hard and gasping, turning in desperation to David who slept beside him. David who had growled like a grizzly, pissed off at being woken up but only for a moment and then he was giving James just what he needed with a twist of his fingers and whispers of sinful promises.
There are fingers now, pulling at his pants. David's fingers because he's finally here and all the other stuff was just some weed inspired dream. When they're done he'll tell Dave all about it and watch him laugh at his silly fantasies. And then he'll make James go over it all again in details, who did what and whom even if he can hardly speak as Dave devours his burning skin.
“Dave.”
“If that's what you want. Don't matter one shit to me.” The laughter is low and mocking and sounds nothing like Dave's and for a moment he's worried but then his arms are being lifted and he feels the soft breeze of breath on his skin. He smiles. David loves to undress him. Sometimes slowly, unbuttoning his shirt with the speed of a snail, leaving a trail of kisses drying on his chest as each part is revealed. Sometimes fast, eager to touch his skin, pulling at the fabric in desperation and if it rips into shreds who really cares?
“Oh for Pete's sake, guys! Move it into the bedroom, will ya? Christ!”
It takes him a while but he manages to open his eyes and where did all these people come from? Someone's head is hovering over his chest and it doesn't look like Dave's even if he can still feel Dave's tongue licking him. Chris is sitting beside him, arguing with Alexis who looks like he wants to be anywhere but here. Adam is leaning against the pool table, watching them with those dark eyes that are so pretty and so dangerous.
“He's drunk out of his fucking mind, Chris. Dave won't like this.”
“Dave ain't here. And when the hell did Jimmy become his property?” Chris snorts. “If the old man wants to have some fun, let him have fun.”
The head raises from his lap and that's definitely not Dave. “Yeah, man. Mind your own business.”
“Shut the fuck up, Vin.” Chris' eyes never leave Alexis' but the threat is there all the same.
“But-”
“Shut up or you're out of here.”
James feels like he's watching a badly written scene from a soap opera. The kid is pouting, hunger in his eyes. Chris looks mostly amused if a little annoyed. Alexis seems uncertain and worried and Adam... Adam is still watching him, hand slipped down the front of his jeans. “Hey.”
“Hey, Jimmy. How's it hanging?”
“Your eyes are sparkling.” He laughs and Adam grins at him, winking those pretty, pretty eyes. “They're so pretty, you know that? Pretty, pretty eyes. Evil eyes.”
“Chris, he's completely stoned!” Alexis waves a hand in front of his face and he tries to follow it but it's too hard and he just closes his eyes instead. “What the hell did you give him?”
“He just had some weed. His own stuff so don't look at me.” Chris' hand on his thigh tightens slightly. “Look, what the hell are you accusing me off? You think I'm what? Molesting him?”
“I didn't say that. Christ! I just think maybe you should let him sober up a bit before...”
“He's a grown man. He knows what he's doing.” Warm breath on his face. “Ain't that right, Jimmy boy?” Hand kneading his cock and when did he lose his pants? “You like this, don't ya?”
He moans a 'yeah' because fuck it feels so good and even if he can't remember anymore where he is or what the fuck he's doing here hands rubbing his cock are always good.
“Can't wait for me to fuck your pretty little ass, can you?” A wet tongue slips into his ear, shooting sparks through him like electricity.
“Uhuh.” He pants and shivers, the audience completely forgotten. It's just Dave and him and it's all wonderful. “Yeah.”
“Shit, I'm not staying for this. Adam, you coming?”
“No, I think I'm staying. You don't mind, guys, do you?” Voice as raw and smooth like silk on paper.
“Oh man! Chris! I'm not-”
“Shut up, Vin. Last warning. Sure, you wanna watch or...?”
“I wanna fuck.”
Chris laughs and James finds himself giggling even if he doesn't get the joke.
“Welcome to the party, bro.”
After that it all gets lost in a world of kisses and touches and tastes and smells and he thinks he just might be having the strangest and most erotic dream of his life. Every now and then he opens his eyes and there's white skin on tanned, brown hair with sandy, strong hands holding down thin wrists. All mixed up and for all he knows there are a hundred people in there and at least half of them are him and so the other half must be David.
The cock in his mouth has an unfamiliar taste but stranger things have happened in dreams and he works it until the only taste left is that of the beer and marijuana on his own tongue.
“Take it. Yeah, that's it.” It pushes down his throat, making him gag and then suddenly it's gone, slick hands pushing up his knees. “Shit, I can't wait to fuck you.”
A groan in his ear makes him look over to find Vin with his head pressed into the cushions, a grimaced look of concentration on his face and then his eyes fly wide open and he's staring with black pupils at James, his mouth forming a perfect 'O', sweet air brushing James' face with every puff that escapes from his lips. A big hand comes down to grab the messed up hair, and then Vin's lips are on his, still panting out air even when his tongue pushes in between James' teeth.
They're still kissing when fingers push inside him, thin and short and nothing like David's fingers at all. Again he feels a flicker of doubt but it's hard to concentrate and the thought flutters away as quickly as it came.
“Oh yeah, open up for me. That's it. Look at you two sluts kissing. Christ.”
He moans into Vin's mouth as he's filled with one finger after another until he's sure he's counted at least fifteen and that can't be right? It burns but he doesn't care because with every sting of pain is a wave of pleasure and that's all that matters. They're pushing inside him so hard he's rocking back and forth and keeps losing hold of Vin's tongue. Then suddenly they're gone, leaving him empty and whining for more.
“God, you really are a whore. No wonder Dave likes you so much.” Chris is panting, his voice strained and so very very far away. “Throw me one, will ya?”
“Here.”
There's sound of kissing and then something being ripped open. He's about to ask Dave what he's doing, they stopped using condoms months ago, but then... oh god! His whimpers turn to moans as he's filled up and the whole world is lost.
He flickers in and out of existence, his head filled with images of cocks and smiles and eyes that will scare his later dreams. At one point he hears himself screaming and he's burning inside and then he can't breath because a huge palm is covering his mouth. Pain, pain until... God, he's pushing back wanting more, needing more and why oh why is the whole world spinning and when did it go so black?
-----------
“Jimmy? What the fuck happened here?”
Hard voice. Angry. James opens his eyes and rolls his head until it faces more or less forward. Dark pants, dark shirt, dark, dark eyes.
“Hey, Dave.” Happy smile. “David. Davey. You came.”
“What the fuck's been going on here? Chris?” David's angry eyes are looking a bit to the right of him and he turns his head to find a messy haired Chris blinking sleep out of his eyes.
“Huh?”
“What did you do to him?”
Chris yawns and stretches like a cat beside him before giving David a careless glance. “Nothing. Didn't do anything he wasn't begging for.” He pats James' thigh and it feels strangely familiar.
“Don't give me that shit, Kane.”
Chris' laugh is short and cold. “You're not his daddy, Dave. You don't fucking own him. If he wants-”
David grabs Chris by the shoulder and leans into his face, practically spitting as he cuts him off. “Does he look like he knows what he wants? What the fuck has he been taking?”
The hand leaves James' thigh, proclaiming innocence in its rise. “Hey, man! I'm not...”
“Just fucking tell me.”
Dave's hand looks huge on Chris' shoulder, like a bear paw crushing it. Actually Dave looks pretty much like a big papa bear with those broad shoulders and knitted eyebrows. A giggle bubbles in James' lungs, tickling his throat on the way up, forcing its way past his lips. He tries to smother it with his palm but it's no good. They both look at him, Dave scowling, Chris failing miserably at hiding a smirk.
“Fuck if I know. Vin had some pills earlier. He might have... I don't know.” Chris shrugs and grabs his shirt from the sofa table. “Ask him.”
“Fuck!” David sits down on the low table, grabbing James' arms, shaking him slightly. “Jim, did you take any drugs? Jimmy? Look at me!”
He pouts. “Can't remember.” It's true. He really can't. He can't even remember where he is. Some party. With his friends. Best fucking friends ever. Especially Dave. “You're the best, you know? You know that, Dave? I like you most of all.” He feels suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude, tears springing to his eyes. “My b-best friend. My Davey.” Sobs choke his voice and he reaches for David's hand, clutching it in his sweaty palms. “Love you, man. Love you so damn much.”
“Jesus! I can't believe this!” David wrenches his hand free in disgust. “Get your fucking head together, Jimmy.”
The sharp voice cuts through his brain and he winces, the pain making his stomach turn. “Fuck. I...” Sucking in breath only to clasp his hand over his mouth.
“Oh for Christ's sake! Come here.”
David is dragging him to his feet and to his amazement he can actually stand. Walking on the other hand... Right before his face hits the floor he's yanked up again and then Dave's arm is around his waist, dragging him across the living room and down the hall. His body hurts all over, like he just ran the fucking marathon. Naked. With the Olympic torch up his ass. “Dave?” He coughs and his throat hurts. “Dave!?!”
“Is he all right?”
Pretty face. Pretty eyes and pretty lips and fucking huge tits. 'Hey, CC!' he tries but all he manages is a low keening sound.
“He better be. Tell Vin to keep his fucking drugs to himself.”
“Jesus!” She stands staring after them as they stumble further in the hall, finally reaching the bathroom.
David holds James up with one fist clutching his shirt as he flips open the lid on the toilet then shoves him down on his knees and holds his head above the bowl. Nothing happens. “Stick your finger down your throat.”
“I don't wan-” He chokes as David pries his mouth open and thrusts a thick finger past his tongue and within seconds he's convulsing, vomit spewing from his mouth and into the white bowl. Oh God. When he's finally done his belly is aching and he's gasping for breath, tears running from his eyes.
“Done?”
He nods, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. There's a foul taste in his mouth, booze and snacks and the burrito he now remembers he had before coming here. David grabs his shoulder and pulls him to his feet, holding him steady when he starts to sway.
“Clean your mouth. I'll see if I can find an unused toothbrush, if not we'll just use Joss'.” He's watching James in the mirror above the sink, shutting him up with one cold look when he tries to object. “Wouldn't be the first time you had his spit in your mouth. Or worse.”
The blood rushes to James' face and he looks down, staring into the sink. “Fuck you.”
“I'm not the one that's been fucking, am I? You let him take you?”
James' head snaps up and he stares at David's angry face in the mirror. “What?”
“Chris. You let him fuck you?”
“Wha-? No! I just got here. Had some beer and... I just dozed off. I think.” But he suddenly feels sick again from deep within his belly, like his gut's being wrenched inside out.
“It's half past two in the morning, Jim. Alexis called me and said you were all fucked up. Were you? Fucked?” The voice is cold.
Inside. Out. “No.” There's a bruise the size of the devil's lips on his throat. “I just...” The aching inside suddenly magnifies to the point of stabbing. “I just got here, Dave.” His legs start giving away and he grabs the sink for support. “I was... I was waiting for you.”
Dave sighs behind him, a sigh he's too familiar with. Disappointment and exasperation in one heavy package. “Why do you pull these stunts, Jim? You're not a teenager anymore.”
He swallows and looks away. “I'm just drunk. I'm not the only one.”
“You're not just drunk. Look at you.”
He raises his head again, avoiding Dave's stare in the mirror, and gazes at his own reflection. Pupils wide and black, ruptured veins making his eyes pink. Sweat gleaming on his skin, face paler than usual. He looks sick. Old. Totally stoned. Shit.
“Wha-what did I take?”
David rolls his eyes. “You telling me you don't remember?”
“No.” Breathe, breathe. Slow and deep. “Just... drinking. Beer. And some fucking fruity cocktail Vin gave me.” Nausea clenches his throat. “Sweet enough to kill my teeth.”
David stares at him and then his face goes red with fury. “That fucker! I'll fucking kill him.” He straightens up and heads for the door but James grabs his arm and stops him at the last minute.
“Don't. Please, Dave.” He tries for a smile. “If you leave me I'll fall over and crack my head.”
David hesitates for a second before turning back, his hand shaking slightly as it opens the medicine cabinet. He finds a new toothbrush and rips the package open. “Better drink some water. Need to clear your head.” There's a glass on the shelf and he turns on the tap, testing the water with his pinky before filling the glass and handing it to James. “At least three glasses.”
He doesn't answer, doesn't tell Dave to stop treating him like a baby - he's over forty for Christ's sake! - just accepts the glass and drinks the water down before filling the glass again. And again and again until his stomach feels bloated with water.
“Feel better?”
He closes his eyes briefly. He still feels dizzy but not quite as confused, like the cotton is lifting from his brain. The nausea is slowly dissolving but he still aches in places he shouldn't. No. He must be wrong. “Yeah.”
Dave nods and hands him the toothbrush. “Brush your teeth.”
That makes him smile despite everything. “Yes, daddy.”
David glares at him but he can't keep the grin away for long. “Just as well Chris didn't hear that.”
James swallows the bile in his throat and flips him the finger before squeezing some paste on the toothbrush. David waits patiently until he's done, rolling his eyes when James puts the toothbrush into the glass with Joss'. They're identical. Joss won't be pleased, trying to figure out which one is his and who the hell used the other one.
“Come on.”
They make their way slowly back, David's arm around James' shoulders to steady him. The party has slowed down, the music's changed from rock to slow jazz. The girls are out by the pool, smoking and drinking cocktails. Amy looks way too thin in that dress, as feminine as a crowbar next to Charisma's revealing backless minithing that shows off every curve of her body, especially the rich fullness of her still lactating breasts. Sarah T and Mercedes are competing for the Slut Award, Sarah winning the prize for Desperate Attempt. She looks like a hooker.
Vin is fortunately nowhere to be seen, probably snorting some shit up his nose in the upstairs bathroom. Chris is gone as well but James can hear Jay and Adam laughing in the kitchen. His stomach does another twist, his hearts starts pounding in his chest and the fact that he doesn't know why scares the shit out of him.
“Can we just go?”
“Sure.”
David steers him through the house and out the door, not bothering with goodbyes. His car stands waiting, all black and slick, and James bites his lip to keep the groan in when he sits down. Shut up. It's not true.
“You all right?
He forces a smile unto his lips. “Yeah. Just tired.”
“I'll take you home.”
They drive in silence. James stares out the window, counting trees and cars and running lines from Hamlet through his head, whatever it takes to keep the thoughts from connecting in his chaotic mind.
“Come on. Up you go.”
He jerks awake and flinches from David's hand on his arm before realising who he is and where they are. David helps him out of the car and they walk slowly to the door, David wrestling the keys from James' pocket and opening the door.
“Jesus, Jim. Do you ever let any air in here? It smells like a fucking orgy went on in here.” Dave laughs and throws open a window.
“Shut up.” His stomach does another somersault, the cramps squeezing his bladder. “I need to piss.”
He stumbles into the bathroom, flips open the lid and sits down heavily. Damn the fucking button. David stands in the doorway, watching him with an amused expression while he struggles to loosen his jeans as his bladder threatens to erupt. Finally he hauls James up and loosens his pants while he rests his forehead on David's broad chest. He smells good. Safe.
“There you go.”
He sinks down again, elbows on his knees, aching head in his hands. Aching... other places. No. When he's done he pulls up his pants, zips them, and stands swaying, watching David's politely turned back.
“Do you mind... the bed. I'm fucking dying here.”
“Come on, you sissy.”
Dave is half-way through undressing him as he lies on the bed when he stops and steps back, eyes wide in a pale face. “Who did that?”
“What?” James raises his tired head and looks down. Celtic patterns of fingerprints bruising his chest, yellow-white flakes crusting on his skin. “No.” He wipes at them with shaky hands.
“You lied to me.”
“No!” It's not true. “There's some mistake.” He's choking on his own breath, tasting cum and sweat and despair on his tongue.
“You got that right. Was it Chris? I hear he likes to play rough. Because I know you didn't let a little shit like Vin plough your ass, did you?” Dave rips at his jeans, shaking with anger. “Did you!?!”
“Shut up! Shut up!!” James claws at his hands, trying to keep him from the zipper but even on a good day he's no match for David. In the end he gives up and goes limp as David pulls down his jeans, laying the truth out in plain sight. Rough hands turn gentle as they slide over his skin and swipe at the blood on his thighs.
“No.” Stop it. Go away. Leave me. Please. Oh God.
“God, why? Why did you let him do this to you?”
“I didn't! No one did anything to me.” He throws a shaky arm over his eyes, it sticks to his wet lashes. “Nothing happened.”
David's smeared fingers come up to his face, forcing the smell into his nostrils. “Nothing happened? How fucking stupid do you think I am?”
“I just fell asleep. I just...” He starts weeping, angry tears of denial. “It must be something else.”
Silence. David steps closer and then there's a warm hand on his shoulder, the touch gentle and unsure. “You really don't remember.”
“There's nothing to remember!”
“Jimmy...”
“I was waiting for you! And I fell asleep. That's all.” He turns on his side, hiding his face in the pillows. “I was just waiting for you!”
David sits down on the bed beside him, stroking his hair with a trembling hand. “I'm sorry. I should have been there. So was it just Chris or...?”
“No one! Nothing happened.”
“Okay. All right. Calm down.” Deep shaky breaths. “Wait here.”
David stands up and moves away into the living room. The spot where he sat feels cold and James is filled with an overwhelming need to beg him to stay but bites it down. He can hear the murmur of a voice, the tone frozen with suppressed anger.
“I could have you arrested, you prick. Yeah? Think that's all they'll find if I make them run a drugtest? Shut the fuck up! No. I don't care. Just playing!?! Are you fucking kidding me? No. No one wants this! Who else? No, I want you to tell me. Tell me or I'll come over right now and rip your fucking balls off. I'm not joking. Chris, tell me! What!?! Shit. I should have known. This ain't over, Chris. Did you use protection? No. He can't remember shit, you asshole. You call that consensus? Like hell you didn't know. No, fuck you!”
The loud crash makes James jump and he turns his head to find David standing in the doorway, trembling with rage. “What?”
“Chris, Vin and...” His hesitation is painful. “Adam.”
He shakes his head. “No. There was no one.”
David doesn't seem to hear him. “He says they used condoms but we should get you checked anyway.”
“No.”
“He says he doesn't know what drug Vin used but-”
“No! There was nothing.”
Silence.
“You should report them.”
His head is exploding from shaking so much. Denial, denial, denial. “There's nothing to report. Nothing happened.”
David sighs and walks over, the hand on James' shoulder still trembling. “Look, it's your call but I'll go with you, whatever has to be done, all right?”
He wants to grab the hand and clutch it to his chest but instead he swats it away. “Nothing. Forget about it. It was a misunderstanding.”
“Jimmy...”
“I was drunk and maybe I did stuff I shouldn't have. That's all. Drop it.”
“You have to work with them. Everyday. How do you think that's gonna work-?”
“And how is it gonna work if I accuse them of... of... Forget it, Dave. Let's just drop it.”
David stands silent, watching him. Then he turns around and starts walking out, pausing without looking back. “It's called rape, Jimmy. And tomorrow I'm taking Alexis and Jay with me to beat the shit out of them, all right?”
“Dave, no.”
“I wasn't asking your permission.”
He closes the door and a moment later James hears the TV being turned on. The realisation that David is staying makes his breath hitch and it doesn't matter that he's out there, as far away as he can be without actually leaving the apartment, that he can't stand to be in the same room as James, can't stand to look at him or touch him. It doesn't matter, just as long as he doesn't leave.
James lies watching the dark until in the early morning hours he falls asleep to the sound of the TV still glowing in the living room and the smell of David's cigarettes in his nostrils. When he wakes up it's dark again and he's alone and sleep has replaced his denial with cold reality. He doesn't even make it to the bathroom door but stands doubled over in the hall, retching until there's nothing left inside but bitter shame and sorrow. Then he stumbles back a few steps and slides down to the floor, drawing up his knees and hugging them to his chest. He's never felt so alone in his whole life.
When David shows up hours later with bruised knuckles and fury still glowing in his eyes James sits curled up on the couch, a tall glass of water and a bottle of painkillers on the low table in front of him. They watch each other, silent. James imagines his whole world slipping away, that with a turn of a heel and a slam of the door David will bring an end to the only purpose in his life these last seven years. So when David finally does move he closes his eyes because he just can't stand to watch him leave. Which is why the gentle stroke of Dave's warm fingers on his face and the soft kiss on his lips surprises him enough that he's crying before he has the chance to catch himself.
“I'm so sorry, Dave. So fucking sorry.”
“Sshh. Not your fault. You hear me? Not you. Them, not you.”
His breath smells of blood and his lips taste of sweat but his eyes are no longer angry and his touches have never been so gentle. And still James has to fight not to push him away when the comfort turns to passion.
“Please, Dave.” Hold me. Touch me. Love me. Get the fuck away from me. “I...”
“Not you, Jimmy. It's okay. They're the bastards, not you.”
'Not you. Not you. Not you.' Like a mantra in his head. 'Them. Not you.'
Them. Not David. Them. Not David. Not David. Not David.
fin