Fic: Everything that shines
Everything that shines
Brad/Nate; PG; 1,665 words
For blincolin, on the occasion of her birthday (which is still a few days away, but like a problem I understand is common amongst most middle aged men, I have trouble holding my wad). It only took me 10 months to come up with a sequel to Made to be broken. Maybe next year you'll get some porn. Un-beta'd cause, you know, I'm useless. Title from Kid Cudi/Lissie.
I'm on the pursuit of happiness and I know
everything that shines ain't always gonna be gold.
The pain is excruciating.
Nate blinks up at the darker shadow of the bridge looming over them. It hurts everywhere and his right eye doesn't seem to be working like it should. Nate lifts a hand, grits his teeth against the sharp pain stabbing through his shoulder and tries to figure out what the problem is. His fingers come away red and once he's wiped away the blood, he can see again.
Brad is laying six feet to his left.
Nate pulls himself over to Brad with his elbows, dragging his legs behind him. He suspects one or both of his ankles are twisted, might even be broken, and this way is faster. It's only after he's rolled Brad over and checked his pulse and breathing that he realises he's been holding his own breath, and lets it out in a big whoosh. Brad wakes up when Nate rubs a fist over his sternum a few times and sits up quickly, hands immediately going out wide and eyes searching around him. He calms when one of his flailing hands grabs onto one of Nate's.
Brad's hurt worse than him, an alarming amount of blood pouring from a deep gash in his thigh onto the wet asphalt, but unsurprisingly he waves it off as nothing, insisting on checking out Nate first. Nate wants to act indignant, and shake him off, but...
Brad's hands are on him. And he can feel them.
"Brad," Nate says and Brad's fingers tighten on his head, pulling at his hair.
"I know," he says presses their foreheads together.
The rain picks that moment to start pouring down again, soaking them to the bone in seconds.
"We have to get to a hospital," Nate says, his teeth already clattering.
Brad gets to his feet, struggling for balance as he keeps his weight off his injured leg and cradles his left arm against his body.
"Shoulder's out," he says as he offers Nate his right.
Nate barely manages to stand, fights the cloud of darkness that threatens to creep across his vision with every step.
"I don't think we're gonna make it," Nate says.
Brad nods curtly and leads them back to the bridge, taking the scant shelter on offer as he leans Nate against a graffitied wall.
"I'll go," Brad says and Nate forces himself to release Brad's hand.
He gives his own nod.
Brad grabs hold of the back of his neck, forces their mouths together for a quick press of lips that could barely be called a kiss. It spears through Nate deeper than the cold, the wet, the pain, setting him on fire. Brad's grinning when Nate opens his eyes.
"Make it quick," Nate tells him and Brad squeezes his neck before leaving, one hobbled step at a time.
He couldn't have managed more than a dozen steps when someone speaks up somewhere close to Nate's right.
"Brother, you need a friend?" he asks. Nate's head swings round, trying to find the owner of the soft voice in the darkness. He sounded genuine enough, but Nate's still too new to this to take any chances.
"No, thank you," Nate says, not unkindly, when the figure comes closer, revealing a tall, beautiful specimen of the human species.
"I can help," the man with the broad chest and even broader smile says as he lays a hand on Nate's shoulder.
There's no trace of Brad's injury when he slams into the man a second later. Nate has no idea how he moved that fast to cover the distance back to Nate, but he's got the stranger pinned up against the wall next to Nate, his arm across his throat nonetheless.
"Hold up," the man croaks, holding his hands up in surrender. "It's all good, brother."
"We're not your brothers," Brad says, the iciness of his tone sending shivers down Nate's spine.
"Yes, you are," he says. "I saw you fall. Just like I did, once."
"You..." Brad says, stunned, and allows Nate to draw his arm away. He takes a dazed step backwards. "Rudy?" he asks, recognition dawning on his face.
"Yeah," Rudy says and gives them a tiny smile. "Sorry, I don't know your names. Can't remember much, from before. The longer you're out... It fades."
"Brad," Brad says, introducing himself. "Nate," he says, pointing at Nate who's silently staring at the fallen angel.
"Good to meet you guys," Rudy says.
"What are you doing out here anyway?" Brad asks, still keeping himself between Nate and Rudy. Nate wants to be annoyed at him for it, but it would be like getting mad at him for breathing.
"I come out here sometimes. Always felt like my part wasn't quite played out yet. Guess I was right," Rudy says and smiles like he can drown out the sorrow in his eyes. "But we can catch up later. Right now we really should get you guys fixed up. I got a vehicle on the other side of the road. Can you make it?"
Brad looks to Nate and at the tiny inclination of his head, gives Rudy the go ahead. Rudy takes a step closer and Brad reluctantly gives way. Nate slings an arm around Rudy's neck and Rudy wraps one around his waist to take the weight off his tortured ankles before leading them to an beaten-down, modified humvee waiting just where he said it would be.
"No need for hospitals," Rudy says, anticipating when Brad makes to speak. "I can take care of you."
"Good," Brad says and opens the door for Rudy to load Nate onto the back seat. The seats are hard, the fabric abrasive, and Nate can't stop running his hands over it again and again.
Rudy drives them straight to his place, Brad's eyes not leaving Nate's reflected in the side mirror for an instant. He gets them inside where it's dry and warm, cleans and dresses their wounds. The only time Brad shows any sign of pain is when Rudy resets his dislocated shoulder. It gives Nate the strength to endure Rudy doing the same for his ankles, tightly wrapping them in bandages when he's done. Nate is hungry, the unfamiliar sensation eating through his insides, but exhaustion wins out and he passes out on Rudy's huge double bed before the strange smells of Rudy's cooking is sufficient to revive him. He wakes up to darkness, terror rising in his throat bitter like bile until he finds Brad lying on his back sleeping next to him. On the floor.
"Fuck that," Nate says, too loud in the stillness of the night, and stumbles off the bed to get to Brad.
Brad is immediately awake and alert the moment Nate touches him, his hands flying up to grab at Nate.
"We did not just go through all of this for you to be all noble or some shit like that," Nate tells him, tugging at Brad's shoulder despite the death grip he has on Nate's wrist. "Get up here."
"Nate," Brad says, his intense gaze flowing over Nate's numerous injuries like it somehow excuses his idiocy.
"Now, Brad," Nate says and the definitive order finally gets him moving. He walks around the bed to take his place on the other side, which makes Nate want to scream, but lies down pretty much on top of Nate once he does, so Nate makes do.
"I... " Brad says after they've lain in each other's arms for awhile, his fingers combing through the short hairs in the nape of Nate's neck. "I don't know how to do this."
"I'm pretty sure that's the point here, Brad. No one does. We'll figure it out."
"But how can you know that? This... you. I've wanted it. So bad. We've been waiting so long. I can't fuck it up."
"You won't," Nate says, levering himself up onto one elbow to look down at Brad. His strong profile is stark against the whiteness of the pillow under his head. It's still the face he's always known. Always loved. "I'm assured of this."
Nate watches the tension melt out of Brad, watches as Brad lets the last of his defenses go down. Brad reaches up to pull Nate close again and when he guides Nate's mouth down to his own, his eyes are still wide open, letting Nate see it all.
~*~
Rudy insists on feeding them sushi and organic vegetables. He makes them run for miles once they're all healed up, placing rocks in their pockets when they dare complain. Brad rolls his eyes as hard as he does, but secretly Nate knows he loves it.
He insists that they stay with him, claiming that he'd been alone for long enough and could never really get the hang of it anyway. They talk about where they came from only once, Rudy sharing with them his own tale of falling, and then it is done. It doesn't happen often that they lose one of the host to the enemy, so they remember well Pappy falling beneath the demon's blade. No one was really surprised when Rudy disappeared right after. Still, the gentle man seemed to need to tell it.
It's on one of their regular morning runs that Brad picks up a $100 bill on the pavement one day; just laying there, waiting for them to find. He treats them to greasy hamburgers, cheesy fries and the most decadent pie imaginable. The noises Brad makes when he bites into his food has Nate making some embarrassing noises of his own. He tries to hide it by taking a sip of his cola, but when he looks up, Brad's eyes are on him and they are filled with a hunger that has absolutely nothing to do with the food in front of them. Nate gulps down the last bite of his pie and signals for the waitress to bring them the bill.
Brad proudly hands over the crisp green note and then follows Nate outside without waiting for the change.
~End.
Brad/Nate; PG; 1,665 words
For blincolin, on the occasion of her birthday (which is still a few days away, but like a problem I understand is common amongst most middle aged men, I have trouble holding my wad). It only took me 10 months to come up with a sequel to Made to be broken. Maybe next year you'll get some porn. Un-beta'd cause, you know, I'm useless. Title from Kid Cudi/Lissie.
I'm on the pursuit of happiness and I know
everything that shines ain't always gonna be gold.
The pain is excruciating.
Nate blinks up at the darker shadow of the bridge looming over them. It hurts everywhere and his right eye doesn't seem to be working like it should. Nate lifts a hand, grits his teeth against the sharp pain stabbing through his shoulder and tries to figure out what the problem is. His fingers come away red and once he's wiped away the blood, he can see again.
Brad is laying six feet to his left.
Nate pulls himself over to Brad with his elbows, dragging his legs behind him. He suspects one or both of his ankles are twisted, might even be broken, and this way is faster. It's only after he's rolled Brad over and checked his pulse and breathing that he realises he's been holding his own breath, and lets it out in a big whoosh. Brad wakes up when Nate rubs a fist over his sternum a few times and sits up quickly, hands immediately going out wide and eyes searching around him. He calms when one of his flailing hands grabs onto one of Nate's.
Brad's hurt worse than him, an alarming amount of blood pouring from a deep gash in his thigh onto the wet asphalt, but unsurprisingly he waves it off as nothing, insisting on checking out Nate first. Nate wants to act indignant, and shake him off, but...
Brad's hands are on him. And he can feel them.
"Brad," Nate says and Brad's fingers tighten on his head, pulling at his hair.
"I know," he says presses their foreheads together.
The rain picks that moment to start pouring down again, soaking them to the bone in seconds.
"We have to get to a hospital," Nate says, his teeth already clattering.
Brad gets to his feet, struggling for balance as he keeps his weight off his injured leg and cradles his left arm against his body.
"Shoulder's out," he says as he offers Nate his right.
Nate barely manages to stand, fights the cloud of darkness that threatens to creep across his vision with every step.
"I don't think we're gonna make it," Nate says.
Brad nods curtly and leads them back to the bridge, taking the scant shelter on offer as he leans Nate against a graffitied wall.
"I'll go," Brad says and Nate forces himself to release Brad's hand.
He gives his own nod.
Brad grabs hold of the back of his neck, forces their mouths together for a quick press of lips that could barely be called a kiss. It spears through Nate deeper than the cold, the wet, the pain, setting him on fire. Brad's grinning when Nate opens his eyes.
"Make it quick," Nate tells him and Brad squeezes his neck before leaving, one hobbled step at a time.
He couldn't have managed more than a dozen steps when someone speaks up somewhere close to Nate's right.
"Brother, you need a friend?" he asks. Nate's head swings round, trying to find the owner of the soft voice in the darkness. He sounded genuine enough, but Nate's still too new to this to take any chances.
"No, thank you," Nate says, not unkindly, when the figure comes closer, revealing a tall, beautiful specimen of the human species.
"I can help," the man with the broad chest and even broader smile says as he lays a hand on Nate's shoulder.
There's no trace of Brad's injury when he slams into the man a second later. Nate has no idea how he moved that fast to cover the distance back to Nate, but he's got the stranger pinned up against the wall next to Nate, his arm across his throat nonetheless.
"Hold up," the man croaks, holding his hands up in surrender. "It's all good, brother."
"We're not your brothers," Brad says, the iciness of his tone sending shivers down Nate's spine.
"Yes, you are," he says. "I saw you fall. Just like I did, once."
"You..." Brad says, stunned, and allows Nate to draw his arm away. He takes a dazed step backwards. "Rudy?" he asks, recognition dawning on his face.
"Yeah," Rudy says and gives them a tiny smile. "Sorry, I don't know your names. Can't remember much, from before. The longer you're out... It fades."
"Brad," Brad says, introducing himself. "Nate," he says, pointing at Nate who's silently staring at the fallen angel.
"Good to meet you guys," Rudy says.
"What are you doing out here anyway?" Brad asks, still keeping himself between Nate and Rudy. Nate wants to be annoyed at him for it, but it would be like getting mad at him for breathing.
"I come out here sometimes. Always felt like my part wasn't quite played out yet. Guess I was right," Rudy says and smiles like he can drown out the sorrow in his eyes. "But we can catch up later. Right now we really should get you guys fixed up. I got a vehicle on the other side of the road. Can you make it?"
Brad looks to Nate and at the tiny inclination of his head, gives Rudy the go ahead. Rudy takes a step closer and Brad reluctantly gives way. Nate slings an arm around Rudy's neck and Rudy wraps one around his waist to take the weight off his tortured ankles before leading them to an beaten-down, modified humvee waiting just where he said it would be.
"No need for hospitals," Rudy says, anticipating when Brad makes to speak. "I can take care of you."
"Good," Brad says and opens the door for Rudy to load Nate onto the back seat. The seats are hard, the fabric abrasive, and Nate can't stop running his hands over it again and again.
Rudy drives them straight to his place, Brad's eyes not leaving Nate's reflected in the side mirror for an instant. He gets them inside where it's dry and warm, cleans and dresses their wounds. The only time Brad shows any sign of pain is when Rudy resets his dislocated shoulder. It gives Nate the strength to endure Rudy doing the same for his ankles, tightly wrapping them in bandages when he's done. Nate is hungry, the unfamiliar sensation eating through his insides, but exhaustion wins out and he passes out on Rudy's huge double bed before the strange smells of Rudy's cooking is sufficient to revive him. He wakes up to darkness, terror rising in his throat bitter like bile until he finds Brad lying on his back sleeping next to him. On the floor.
"Fuck that," Nate says, too loud in the stillness of the night, and stumbles off the bed to get to Brad.
Brad is immediately awake and alert the moment Nate touches him, his hands flying up to grab at Nate.
"We did not just go through all of this for you to be all noble or some shit like that," Nate tells him, tugging at Brad's shoulder despite the death grip he has on Nate's wrist. "Get up here."
"Nate," Brad says, his intense gaze flowing over Nate's numerous injuries like it somehow excuses his idiocy.
"Now, Brad," Nate says and the definitive order finally gets him moving. He walks around the bed to take his place on the other side, which makes Nate want to scream, but lies down pretty much on top of Nate once he does, so Nate makes do.
"I... " Brad says after they've lain in each other's arms for awhile, his fingers combing through the short hairs in the nape of Nate's neck. "I don't know how to do this."
"I'm pretty sure that's the point here, Brad. No one does. We'll figure it out."
"But how can you know that? This... you. I've wanted it. So bad. We've been waiting so long. I can't fuck it up."
"You won't," Nate says, levering himself up onto one elbow to look down at Brad. His strong profile is stark against the whiteness of the pillow under his head. It's still the face he's always known. Always loved. "I'm assured of this."
Nate watches the tension melt out of Brad, watches as Brad lets the last of his defenses go down. Brad reaches up to pull Nate close again and when he guides Nate's mouth down to his own, his eyes are still wide open, letting Nate see it all.
~*~
Rudy insists on feeding them sushi and organic vegetables. He makes them run for miles once they're all healed up, placing rocks in their pockets when they dare complain. Brad rolls his eyes as hard as he does, but secretly Nate knows he loves it.
He insists that they stay with him, claiming that he'd been alone for long enough and could never really get the hang of it anyway. They talk about where they came from only once, Rudy sharing with them his own tale of falling, and then it is done. It doesn't happen often that they lose one of the host to the enemy, so they remember well Pappy falling beneath the demon's blade. No one was really surprised when Rudy disappeared right after. Still, the gentle man seemed to need to tell it.
It's on one of their regular morning runs that Brad picks up a $100 bill on the pavement one day; just laying there, waiting for them to find. He treats them to greasy hamburgers, cheesy fries and the most decadent pie imaginable. The noises Brad makes when he bites into his food has Nate making some embarrassing noises of his own. He tries to hide it by taking a sip of his cola, but when he looks up, Brad's eyes are on him and they are filled with a hunger that has absolutely nothing to do with the food in front of them. Nate gulps down the last bite of his pie and signals for the waitress to bring them the bill.
Brad proudly hands over the crisp green note and then follows Nate outside without waiting for the change.
~End.