Callie (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
calliope_love) wrote2010-12-19 12:55 am
calliope_love) wrote2010-12-19 12:55 am
Entry tags:
015: Ahahaha kink meme
Title: To Have You Back Again
Rating: R
Disclaimer: This isn't mine, though I wholeheartedly approve of Chapter 56.
Summary: Kink meme fill. This prompt showed up today:
"Gilbert is looking for Break, so he goes to Break's room. He freak's out when he hears some noises and hides in break's closet. He expected Break to come in, but he didn't expect for Reim to be with him.
Anon just wants Gilbert spying on Break and Reim having sex. Bwahahaha. Can be as emotional as you want, as it is post chapter 56. "
...and I've already done one a bit like this, but the post-56-ness crashed together so quickly in my head that I dropped everything to write it. Now I will get back to the OTHER five fics I am working on, three of which are also fills. I have nothing else intelligent to say because I've been working on this about five straight hours, so -- hope you enjoy!
Length: 3,421
Break was avoiding him.
This was a completely undeniable fact. Xerxes Break was never too busy to terrorize Gilbert Nightray, especially for such a long time as the better part of a week. An absence like that meant he didn’t want Gil around. That would have been fine at just about any other point within the past decade, but now — well, they had an understanding now, didn’t they? Gilbert was still his left eye. Gilbert had helped, at the party. Break had accepted it. And if — if Gil was going to step up to keep helping him properly, to not be useless anymore, to — to make sure he didn’t have to do any of this alone from now on, then — well, Break needed to stop hiding from him!
If Break was mad at him it was probably over something stupid anyway. That, of course, was something that Gilbert Nightray would never do, get mad over something stupid. He was a bit miffed that his hair had gone messy again so quickly while Break’s hair had stayed up in its neat little pins all night, even while he was getting tossed a couple dozen feet by that big Baskerville, but being miffed was not at all the same as being mad and anyway that was not the important thing here.
Having made the decision that Break should not be permitted to avoid him, regardless of what anybody’s hair was doing, Gilbert slipped away from his work at the soonest opportunity in order to find the clown. He went to Break’s room, first. Break was supposed to be on bed rest, and of course he wasn’t, and he knew this because he’d heard Sharon fretting over it, but he had to be lurking somewhere. His room was as good a place to start as any.
“Break?” Gilbert called, when he’d reached the door. He lifted a hand to knock, and was surprised when the door gave against the motion, just a little. There was no reply from within the room, and when he took hold of the knob, it wouldn’t turn, but the door did open — Break must not have shut it enough to let it catch.
He called out for Break again. Silence, still. Gil hesitated a moment, then pushed the door open just enough to poke his head inside the room. It was dim; the sun was bright outside but the curtains were still drawn. Gil entered, letting his eyes adjust; the door shut gently behind him. The room wasn’t near as messy as it could have been, just a few clothes slung over the backs of chairs and the like. But the bed was unmade and rumpled, and there was a distinct lack of Xerxes Break in it.
Gilbert scowled at the bed, leaning back against the door. He would have to check Break’s other favorite places to be, and that would take the rest of the day, because he had several of them — and if Sharon was upset with him for being up at all, he was probably moving around a lot to avoid her as well. Gil sighed, trying to think of where to go next.
Then he heard voices down the hall, and one of them was Break’s.
Gil somehow managed to jump to his feet despite the fact that he was already standing on them and stared around the room. If Break saw Gilbert coming out of his chambers when he’d had the door locked, even if it hadn’t been locked properly, it would defeat the whole point of trying to be seen as his equal! Almost panicking as the voices drew steadily closer, Gil realized the wardrobe in the corner by the bed was open just a bit, and he made a dive for it. He’d shut himself in — leaving the doors cracked as well so he could get out later, when Break left again — and was hiding behind the long coats that hung within the wardrobe by the time the key turned loudly in the bedroom door. Gil went still, held his breath.
“For the most part no one bothers me in here, this past week or so,” Break was saying as he walked in. “I’ve been a bit — well, the servants are all frightened of me just now, and I hide from them when I can anyway. Sharon drops by, but that would hardly be the end of the world.”
“I thought she knew,” replied his companion, and was that — was that Liam?
“I think she does, but we’ve not talked about it outright.” There was the sound of the door shutting and a lock clicking back into place. Gilbert shifted in the wardrobe, as quietly as he could, just enough to peer out of the crack in the doors of his hiding place and toward the front of the room. He had to tilt his head awkwardly against one door and close an eye, but he managed it right in time to see Break stride forward and plant a kiss smack onto Liam’s mouth.
Gil’s own mouth fell open.
They were dressed far more casually than usual, both of them too tired and wounded to bother with the formality, especially since they were apparently sneaking around together, but Liam had at least made a halfhearted attempt at a cravat. Break was wasting no time in tugging said cravat away and going for the buttons on his collar. And what was worse, Liam wasn’t red-faced, wasn’t sputtering, wasn’t pushing him away and yelling his full name, no; if anything he was returning the kiss enthusiastically, closing his eyes and was that a flash of somebody’s tongue? They moved toward one another, clothing rustled, and after a very, very long few moments the kiss stopped; but then Break had Liam’s hand in his own and was pulling him to the bed — Gil shifted to follow them as they moved, so shocked it didn’t even occur to him to stop watching them. Break plopped down on the edge of the mattress, nuzzling his face into Liam’s stomach as the younger man stepped closer, and Liam began to stroke Break’s hair. It was all as natural as if they’d done it a million times before and oh God, had they really?
“This may not even work,” Liam said, apologetically. “We were both so hurt. It may be too soon to — to manage —”
“I don’t care,” Break said firmly. “I don’t care if it doesn’t work. I just — this is the first we’ve been able to get you away from Barma since we got home. I’ve missed you, I…”
“I won’t leave, regardless. Xerxes, I won’t. I’m right here.” Liam knelt down in front of Break as he spoke and took both of the other man’s hands in his, kissing the knuckles of each in turn. Break leaned forward to rest his own head against Liam’s. Break’s hair was covering his face at that angle, but Liam was smiling.
A million times before indeed.
Gilbert continued to watch them, a distant sort of cold welling in his chest even while his face was burning hot. As Break scooted himself backwards onto the bed and tugged Liam’s hand again to get him to follow, and Liam moved immediately and pulled Break in for another kiss, Gil let his eyes fall shut, leaning his head softly — softly — against the back of the wardrobe.
He’d known they were close, but he’d never suspected they were a couple.
And this — this was the way it always went for him, wasn’t it? Even before, Break had always had Sharon, and the two of them had been an established pair long before Gil had come into their lives. Elliot was a proper Nightray — he’d had his other siblings, and Leo. Vincent had always been far more social than his own brother, and now he had Echo, and Oz, well. Oz had Alice. And Alice was always there, nowadays, wherever Oz was, unless the boy told her directly to leave, and he hardly ever did. And Gil never could bring himself to ask.
And Liam — he’d admired Liam for years, being so efficient, so diligent, being able to tolerate Break so well even as he disapproved of him so loudly, but — all that time, all those days Gil had gone to Liam to complain about Break and been met with huffy agreements and a resigned shake of the head, had they — how long? How many years had Gil spent griping to Liam about his own lover, without either of them ever letting him know?
And — there was an undeniable feeling of jealousy, now — what had Liam done that Gil hadn’t, to make Break trust him so much? He remembered the party, remembered the lost look on Break’s face as Liam was sent to safety, and now he’d brought Liam into his own private place and locked the rest of the world away —
Liam may as well have got up and slammed the wardrobe door in Gil’s face just then.
When Gil opened his eyes again, they were still kissing, and Liam was just sliding Break’s open shirt from his shoulders. The bandages across the man’s waist were plainly visible even in the low light. Gil had been the first to tend to that wound.
“I am sorry I upset you so badly,” Liam was saying, quietly. His hands worked their way into Break’s hair, hiding his expression from Gil. “I never — you know I never wanted that. I wanted to tell you so many times, that I had a way out. Especially when you — given how you reacted when you found out I was going in the first place.”
“I might not have handled it so — quite so horribly, when it happened, at the party, I just…” Break let one of his own hands rest against Liam’s, and it was hard to see from where Gil watched, but he would swear Break was nuzzling into Liam’s fingers. It was a gesture so tender that it had never even occurred to him to see it on Break. It made his stomach clench, and he almost missed the rest of what he said. “Everything was falling apart, Liam; I made so many mistakes before we even got there. And then there was fire and not-Baskervilles and heads were coming off, and I realized I can’t see colors anymore —”
“Oh, Xerk.”
“— and Gilbert chose the most inopportune time imaginable to get contrary on me and I ran off just to get him to let me alone and then I heard you scream, just once, and —”
“Xerxes. Please don’t.”
“I ran in right in time to hear Fang say you were dead,” Break mumbled.
”Hush,” said Liam, and Gil hoped to all hell that Break would listen to him. He’d jolted at the sound of his own name, and his heart was beating far too fast from the adrenaline of that, and they both sounded so miserable Gil wanted to clap his hands to his own ears to drown out their voices, because of all people, Xerxes Break was not supposed to sound like that. Liam, perhaps, because Liam had always been the more human of the two in his eyes, but not Break, never Break — and then Liam pulled Break down and kissed him again, hard, and that hurt almost as much. Gil shut his eyes against them for a moment, but it didn’t block out the rustling of the sheets as they moved. When he looked again Liam had rolled them so that Break’s back was to the closet, and he was holding him close with his strong arm, while the one attached to his bad shoulder draped lightly over him. It left Break laying on his injured side, but he didn’t appear overly bothered by it. He reached up to curl his hand around Liam’s arm, stroking it gently.
“It was almost like going home, in a way,” Break said, so quietly Gilbert could barely make the words out. “Going back to when I was young. I was going to kill them and it was familiar. I was so angry. At you, for — at them, at everybody, it was all I could feel, just — I was going to kill them, and it was just like old times, but I — I couldn’t hold onto it. When Fang didn’t go down the first time I hit him. Being furious takes so much energy, Liam, and I don’t — I don’t have that, anymore.”
“I can’t say I’m overly sorry for that,” Liam said, beginning to move his hand slowly up and down Break’s back. He relaxed almost as soon as the stroking began, as though he’d been waiting for it, maybe needing the touch to calm him down. And Gil could tell from Liam’s complete lack of hesitation that he knew exactly what he was doing. “You’ve always said it was all still there, everything from before, but — you’ve changed so much, too, Xerk. For the better, I think.”
“Before, I would never have given up like I did.”
Gilbert’s mouth fell open at that, but before he could fully process the implications, Liam was saying, “Even if you’d tried to retreat, you wouldn’t have been able to, Xerk.”
“I could have. I’m very good at hiding, you know that.”
“Gilbert told me Fang had the Tove chain. It would have followed you well enough.” Liam rested his hand on the bandages.
“He hit me,” Break announced suddenly.
“He hit — who did?”
“Gilbert. Twice.”
“…and you let him?” Liam asked.
“Well, the second one was a kick. But I was busy! I didn’t know either of them were coming.”
Break was back to his usual obnoxious tone, this time with a dash of “mortally offended”, and Gilbert was caught between relief at seeing his standard demeanor starting to emerge again and annoyance that they were talking about him. While in bed together. Half-clothed. With the man himself currently spying on them — no, hiding from them — in the closet, which was no one’s fault but his own really, but — and then Liam asked, “Well, did you hit him back?” as though it was the most obvious assumption in the world and — what?
“Of course I did,” Break was saying loftily. “And I hope he had a nasty, wretched, Gilbert-style guilt fit over the whole thing.”
…what?
“If you like I can plant something evil in his desk later,” Liam offered kindly. Gilbert gaped.
“That would be nice,” said Break, rolling onto his back. “Something to do with a cat would be the most obvious thing.”
“But everyone tortures him with cats. Surely between us we can come up with something more creative.”
“We could steal his cigarettes.” Break was smiling. It was shaky, but it was there.
“I think Master Oz was planning on doing that sometime soon,” Liam said.
Good to know, Gilbert thought bitchily. Were he not so very busy hiding in Break’s closet while the man snogged his best friend, he’d be puffing away on a cigarette right now, in fact. Possibly several in rapid succession. Because they were kissing again but Liam was moving to mouth his way down Break’s neck and Break was simultaneously eating it up — one arm slipping around Liam’s shoulders and that hand going into his hair to encourage him — and reaching the other arm behind him to open the drawer of his nightstand and root around in it for — oh no.
“My shoulder — I can’t support myself on it,” Liam said from the general vicinity of Break’s seal.
“Roll over, I’ll ride you,” Break answered immediately.
Gilbert promptly stuffed his fingers into his ears, but he could still just barely hear, “But your wounds, Xerk,” and “I’ll move slowly, don’t worry,” and he squinched his eyes shut, too, as though that would help. They stopped talking after that, thankfully, but that also meant Gil couldn’t tell when they were done, and so he kept opening his eyes to catch glimpses of Break bucking his hips against Liam’s fingers and sheets getting clawed at and Liam sitting up so he could wrap his arms around Break as he moved in his lap.
Finally he gave in and unplugged his ears, figuring that listening to panting and the occasional moan was better than seeing these things. He didn’t have to listen long — they finished up relatively quickly, and then there was the sound of sheets moving, and then nothing. They’d been silent for a while when he dared to open his eyes and peek out of the wardrobe again. Break was nestled against Liam’s chest, his back shiny with sweat, and they’d moved underneath the covers. Liam’s hands were gliding over Break’s back and over the arm that was slung across him, and occasionally into his hair.
“At least they didn’t hit the shoulder I like to snuggle the most,” Break murmured presently. He sounded half asleep.
“That would have been dreadfully inconvenient,” Liam agreed, his own voice drowsy but thick with amusement. He moved suddenly to nose against Break’s hair, clasping him close. “We’ll need to change your bandages.”
“But I am comfy.”
“Xerxes. They’re all damp and sticky now.”
Shut up, thought Gil helpfully as they began to grumble about whether or not Liam’s should be changed as well, hoping they weren’t ultimately going to take a nap or go for a second round or something. He was beginning to get cramps from being stuck in the wardrobe, and he’d just had his heart and his mind stomped on quite enough for one day, thanks very much. But if Break had been about to reply, it was cut off by a knock on the door.
“Hey, Break?” It was Oz. Gil perked up immediately at his voice.
Break, though, gave a slight huff. “What do you need, Oz?”
“Have you seen Gil anywhere?”
“No, but that is less because I don’t know where he is and more because I am blind.”
Liam gave a vaguely horrified sputter at that and Gil had to resist another jealous pang at the awareness that both Liam and Oz had known about his eyes already, but Oz just gave a sheepish laugh and called, “Sorry. Do you know where he is then?”
“Nope.”
“You could help me look for him, if you feel well enough.”
“We could,” Liam said softly. Apparently sex made him generous or something.
“But I remain comfy,” Break told him.
“You can be comfy all night. I’m not leaving.”
“You’re not?” Break sat up a little at that. “Barma’s not going to come looking for you?”
“I told him before I left that I wanted to stay here for a bit,” Liam said, letting his palm rest against Break’s face. “He doesn’t need to know what room I sleep in exactly.”
“He probably does know, being that it’s Barma,” Break muttered. Then he called, “I’ll be out in a bit, Oz. My bandages need changing first.”
“Do you need help with that?”
“No, Liam’s here.”
“Oh, good. Thanks, Break! And Liam, too.”
“You’re welcome,” Liam called.
And in the wardrobe, Gil buried his head in his hands, because what else did Oz know about Break that Break knew he knew and did not mind him knowing but would not tell Gilbert? Ugh. He snuck another peek outside when Liam changed the bandages, though — the wound in Break’s side already looked much better, and that at least was a comfort. The two of them didn’t talk much, but they helped one another dress, and Break slid easily into Liam’s arms for a long hug before they left, speculating quietly as to where Gilbert could be.
Gilbert stayed in the wardrobe a bit longer, thinking of the way Break clung to Liam like he was the only thing keeping him stable. It wouldn’t do to be seen lurking around Break’s room so soon after they’d left, after all.
Rating: R
Disclaimer: This isn't mine, though I wholeheartedly approve of Chapter 56.
Summary: Kink meme fill. This prompt showed up today:
"Gilbert is looking for Break, so he goes to Break's room. He freak's out when he hears some noises and hides in break's closet. He expected Break to come in, but he didn't expect for Reim to be with him.
Anon just wants Gilbert spying on Break and Reim having sex. Bwahahaha. Can be as emotional as you want, as it is post chapter 56. "
...and I've already done one a bit like this, but the post-56-ness crashed together so quickly in my head that I dropped everything to write it. Now I will get back to the OTHER five fics I am working on, three of which are also fills. I have nothing else intelligent to say because I've been working on this about five straight hours, so -- hope you enjoy!
Length: 3,421
Break was avoiding him.
This was a completely undeniable fact. Xerxes Break was never too busy to terrorize Gilbert Nightray, especially for such a long time as the better part of a week. An absence like that meant he didn’t want Gil around. That would have been fine at just about any other point within the past decade, but now — well, they had an understanding now, didn’t they? Gilbert was still his left eye. Gilbert had helped, at the party. Break had accepted it. And if — if Gil was going to step up to keep helping him properly, to not be useless anymore, to — to make sure he didn’t have to do any of this alone from now on, then — well, Break needed to stop hiding from him!
If Break was mad at him it was probably over something stupid anyway. That, of course, was something that Gilbert Nightray would never do, get mad over something stupid. He was a bit miffed that his hair had gone messy again so quickly while Break’s hair had stayed up in its neat little pins all night, even while he was getting tossed a couple dozen feet by that big Baskerville, but being miffed was not at all the same as being mad and anyway that was not the important thing here.
Having made the decision that Break should not be permitted to avoid him, regardless of what anybody’s hair was doing, Gilbert slipped away from his work at the soonest opportunity in order to find the clown. He went to Break’s room, first. Break was supposed to be on bed rest, and of course he wasn’t, and he knew this because he’d heard Sharon fretting over it, but he had to be lurking somewhere. His room was as good a place to start as any.
“Break?” Gilbert called, when he’d reached the door. He lifted a hand to knock, and was surprised when the door gave against the motion, just a little. There was no reply from within the room, and when he took hold of the knob, it wouldn’t turn, but the door did open — Break must not have shut it enough to let it catch.
He called out for Break again. Silence, still. Gil hesitated a moment, then pushed the door open just enough to poke his head inside the room. It was dim; the sun was bright outside but the curtains were still drawn. Gil entered, letting his eyes adjust; the door shut gently behind him. The room wasn’t near as messy as it could have been, just a few clothes slung over the backs of chairs and the like. But the bed was unmade and rumpled, and there was a distinct lack of Xerxes Break in it.
Gilbert scowled at the bed, leaning back against the door. He would have to check Break’s other favorite places to be, and that would take the rest of the day, because he had several of them — and if Sharon was upset with him for being up at all, he was probably moving around a lot to avoid her as well. Gil sighed, trying to think of where to go next.
Then he heard voices down the hall, and one of them was Break’s.
Gil somehow managed to jump to his feet despite the fact that he was already standing on them and stared around the room. If Break saw Gilbert coming out of his chambers when he’d had the door locked, even if it hadn’t been locked properly, it would defeat the whole point of trying to be seen as his equal! Almost panicking as the voices drew steadily closer, Gil realized the wardrobe in the corner by the bed was open just a bit, and he made a dive for it. He’d shut himself in — leaving the doors cracked as well so he could get out later, when Break left again — and was hiding behind the long coats that hung within the wardrobe by the time the key turned loudly in the bedroom door. Gil went still, held his breath.
“For the most part no one bothers me in here, this past week or so,” Break was saying as he walked in. “I’ve been a bit — well, the servants are all frightened of me just now, and I hide from them when I can anyway. Sharon drops by, but that would hardly be the end of the world.”
“I thought she knew,” replied his companion, and was that — was that Liam?
“I think she does, but we’ve not talked about it outright.” There was the sound of the door shutting and a lock clicking back into place. Gilbert shifted in the wardrobe, as quietly as he could, just enough to peer out of the crack in the doors of his hiding place and toward the front of the room. He had to tilt his head awkwardly against one door and close an eye, but he managed it right in time to see Break stride forward and plant a kiss smack onto Liam’s mouth.
Gil’s own mouth fell open.
They were dressed far more casually than usual, both of them too tired and wounded to bother with the formality, especially since they were apparently sneaking around together, but Liam had at least made a halfhearted attempt at a cravat. Break was wasting no time in tugging said cravat away and going for the buttons on his collar. And what was worse, Liam wasn’t red-faced, wasn’t sputtering, wasn’t pushing him away and yelling his full name, no; if anything he was returning the kiss enthusiastically, closing his eyes and was that a flash of somebody’s tongue? They moved toward one another, clothing rustled, and after a very, very long few moments the kiss stopped; but then Break had Liam’s hand in his own and was pulling him to the bed — Gil shifted to follow them as they moved, so shocked it didn’t even occur to him to stop watching them. Break plopped down on the edge of the mattress, nuzzling his face into Liam’s stomach as the younger man stepped closer, and Liam began to stroke Break’s hair. It was all as natural as if they’d done it a million times before and oh God, had they really?
“This may not even work,” Liam said, apologetically. “We were both so hurt. It may be too soon to — to manage —”
“I don’t care,” Break said firmly. “I don’t care if it doesn’t work. I just — this is the first we’ve been able to get you away from Barma since we got home. I’ve missed you, I…”
“I won’t leave, regardless. Xerxes, I won’t. I’m right here.” Liam knelt down in front of Break as he spoke and took both of the other man’s hands in his, kissing the knuckles of each in turn. Break leaned forward to rest his own head against Liam’s. Break’s hair was covering his face at that angle, but Liam was smiling.
A million times before indeed.
Gilbert continued to watch them, a distant sort of cold welling in his chest even while his face was burning hot. As Break scooted himself backwards onto the bed and tugged Liam’s hand again to get him to follow, and Liam moved immediately and pulled Break in for another kiss, Gil let his eyes fall shut, leaning his head softly — softly — against the back of the wardrobe.
He’d known they were close, but he’d never suspected they were a couple.
And this — this was the way it always went for him, wasn’t it? Even before, Break had always had Sharon, and the two of them had been an established pair long before Gil had come into their lives. Elliot was a proper Nightray — he’d had his other siblings, and Leo. Vincent had always been far more social than his own brother, and now he had Echo, and Oz, well. Oz had Alice. And Alice was always there, nowadays, wherever Oz was, unless the boy told her directly to leave, and he hardly ever did. And Gil never could bring himself to ask.
And Liam — he’d admired Liam for years, being so efficient, so diligent, being able to tolerate Break so well even as he disapproved of him so loudly, but — all that time, all those days Gil had gone to Liam to complain about Break and been met with huffy agreements and a resigned shake of the head, had they — how long? How many years had Gil spent griping to Liam about his own lover, without either of them ever letting him know?
And — there was an undeniable feeling of jealousy, now — what had Liam done that Gil hadn’t, to make Break trust him so much? He remembered the party, remembered the lost look on Break’s face as Liam was sent to safety, and now he’d brought Liam into his own private place and locked the rest of the world away —
Liam may as well have got up and slammed the wardrobe door in Gil’s face just then.
When Gil opened his eyes again, they were still kissing, and Liam was just sliding Break’s open shirt from his shoulders. The bandages across the man’s waist were plainly visible even in the low light. Gil had been the first to tend to that wound.
“I am sorry I upset you so badly,” Liam was saying, quietly. His hands worked their way into Break’s hair, hiding his expression from Gil. “I never — you know I never wanted that. I wanted to tell you so many times, that I had a way out. Especially when you — given how you reacted when you found out I was going in the first place.”
“I might not have handled it so — quite so horribly, when it happened, at the party, I just…” Break let one of his own hands rest against Liam’s, and it was hard to see from where Gil watched, but he would swear Break was nuzzling into Liam’s fingers. It was a gesture so tender that it had never even occurred to him to see it on Break. It made his stomach clench, and he almost missed the rest of what he said. “Everything was falling apart, Liam; I made so many mistakes before we even got there. And then there was fire and not-Baskervilles and heads were coming off, and I realized I can’t see colors anymore —”
“Oh, Xerk.”
“— and Gilbert chose the most inopportune time imaginable to get contrary on me and I ran off just to get him to let me alone and then I heard you scream, just once, and —”
“Xerxes. Please don’t.”
“I ran in right in time to hear Fang say you were dead,” Break mumbled.
”Hush,” said Liam, and Gil hoped to all hell that Break would listen to him. He’d jolted at the sound of his own name, and his heart was beating far too fast from the adrenaline of that, and they both sounded so miserable Gil wanted to clap his hands to his own ears to drown out their voices, because of all people, Xerxes Break was not supposed to sound like that. Liam, perhaps, because Liam had always been the more human of the two in his eyes, but not Break, never Break — and then Liam pulled Break down and kissed him again, hard, and that hurt almost as much. Gil shut his eyes against them for a moment, but it didn’t block out the rustling of the sheets as they moved. When he looked again Liam had rolled them so that Break’s back was to the closet, and he was holding him close with his strong arm, while the one attached to his bad shoulder draped lightly over him. It left Break laying on his injured side, but he didn’t appear overly bothered by it. He reached up to curl his hand around Liam’s arm, stroking it gently.
“It was almost like going home, in a way,” Break said, so quietly Gilbert could barely make the words out. “Going back to when I was young. I was going to kill them and it was familiar. I was so angry. At you, for — at them, at everybody, it was all I could feel, just — I was going to kill them, and it was just like old times, but I — I couldn’t hold onto it. When Fang didn’t go down the first time I hit him. Being furious takes so much energy, Liam, and I don’t — I don’t have that, anymore.”
“I can’t say I’m overly sorry for that,” Liam said, beginning to move his hand slowly up and down Break’s back. He relaxed almost as soon as the stroking began, as though he’d been waiting for it, maybe needing the touch to calm him down. And Gil could tell from Liam’s complete lack of hesitation that he knew exactly what he was doing. “You’ve always said it was all still there, everything from before, but — you’ve changed so much, too, Xerk. For the better, I think.”
“Before, I would never have given up like I did.”
Gilbert’s mouth fell open at that, but before he could fully process the implications, Liam was saying, “Even if you’d tried to retreat, you wouldn’t have been able to, Xerk.”
“I could have. I’m very good at hiding, you know that.”
“Gilbert told me Fang had the Tove chain. It would have followed you well enough.” Liam rested his hand on the bandages.
“He hit me,” Break announced suddenly.
“He hit — who did?”
“Gilbert. Twice.”
“…and you let him?” Liam asked.
“Well, the second one was a kick. But I was busy! I didn’t know either of them were coming.”
Break was back to his usual obnoxious tone, this time with a dash of “mortally offended”, and Gilbert was caught between relief at seeing his standard demeanor starting to emerge again and annoyance that they were talking about him. While in bed together. Half-clothed. With the man himself currently spying on them — no, hiding from them — in the closet, which was no one’s fault but his own really, but — and then Liam asked, “Well, did you hit him back?” as though it was the most obvious assumption in the world and — what?
“Of course I did,” Break was saying loftily. “And I hope he had a nasty, wretched, Gilbert-style guilt fit over the whole thing.”
…what?
“If you like I can plant something evil in his desk later,” Liam offered kindly. Gilbert gaped.
“That would be nice,” said Break, rolling onto his back. “Something to do with a cat would be the most obvious thing.”
“But everyone tortures him with cats. Surely between us we can come up with something more creative.”
“We could steal his cigarettes.” Break was smiling. It was shaky, but it was there.
“I think Master Oz was planning on doing that sometime soon,” Liam said.
Good to know, Gilbert thought bitchily. Were he not so very busy hiding in Break’s closet while the man snogged his best friend, he’d be puffing away on a cigarette right now, in fact. Possibly several in rapid succession. Because they were kissing again but Liam was moving to mouth his way down Break’s neck and Break was simultaneously eating it up — one arm slipping around Liam’s shoulders and that hand going into his hair to encourage him — and reaching the other arm behind him to open the drawer of his nightstand and root around in it for — oh no.
“My shoulder — I can’t support myself on it,” Liam said from the general vicinity of Break’s seal.
“Roll over, I’ll ride you,” Break answered immediately.
Gilbert promptly stuffed his fingers into his ears, but he could still just barely hear, “But your wounds, Xerk,” and “I’ll move slowly, don’t worry,” and he squinched his eyes shut, too, as though that would help. They stopped talking after that, thankfully, but that also meant Gil couldn’t tell when they were done, and so he kept opening his eyes to catch glimpses of Break bucking his hips against Liam’s fingers and sheets getting clawed at and Liam sitting up so he could wrap his arms around Break as he moved in his lap.
Finally he gave in and unplugged his ears, figuring that listening to panting and the occasional moan was better than seeing these things. He didn’t have to listen long — they finished up relatively quickly, and then there was the sound of sheets moving, and then nothing. They’d been silent for a while when he dared to open his eyes and peek out of the wardrobe again. Break was nestled against Liam’s chest, his back shiny with sweat, and they’d moved underneath the covers. Liam’s hands were gliding over Break’s back and over the arm that was slung across him, and occasionally into his hair.
“At least they didn’t hit the shoulder I like to snuggle the most,” Break murmured presently. He sounded half asleep.
“That would have been dreadfully inconvenient,” Liam agreed, his own voice drowsy but thick with amusement. He moved suddenly to nose against Break’s hair, clasping him close. “We’ll need to change your bandages.”
“But I am comfy.”
“Xerxes. They’re all damp and sticky now.”
Shut up, thought Gil helpfully as they began to grumble about whether or not Liam’s should be changed as well, hoping they weren’t ultimately going to take a nap or go for a second round or something. He was beginning to get cramps from being stuck in the wardrobe, and he’d just had his heart and his mind stomped on quite enough for one day, thanks very much. But if Break had been about to reply, it was cut off by a knock on the door.
“Hey, Break?” It was Oz. Gil perked up immediately at his voice.
Break, though, gave a slight huff. “What do you need, Oz?”
“Have you seen Gil anywhere?”
“No, but that is less because I don’t know where he is and more because I am blind.”
Liam gave a vaguely horrified sputter at that and Gil had to resist another jealous pang at the awareness that both Liam and Oz had known about his eyes already, but Oz just gave a sheepish laugh and called, “Sorry. Do you know where he is then?”
“Nope.”
“You could help me look for him, if you feel well enough.”
“We could,” Liam said softly. Apparently sex made him generous or something.
“But I remain comfy,” Break told him.
“You can be comfy all night. I’m not leaving.”
“You’re not?” Break sat up a little at that. “Barma’s not going to come looking for you?”
“I told him before I left that I wanted to stay here for a bit,” Liam said, letting his palm rest against Break’s face. “He doesn’t need to know what room I sleep in exactly.”
“He probably does know, being that it’s Barma,” Break muttered. Then he called, “I’ll be out in a bit, Oz. My bandages need changing first.”
“Do you need help with that?”
“No, Liam’s here.”
“Oh, good. Thanks, Break! And Liam, too.”
“You’re welcome,” Liam called.
And in the wardrobe, Gil buried his head in his hands, because what else did Oz know about Break that Break knew he knew and did not mind him knowing but would not tell Gilbert? Ugh. He snuck another peek outside when Liam changed the bandages, though — the wound in Break’s side already looked much better, and that at least was a comfort. The two of them didn’t talk much, but they helped one another dress, and Break slid easily into Liam’s arms for a long hug before they left, speculating quietly as to where Gilbert could be.
Gilbert stayed in the wardrobe a bit longer, thinking of the way Break clung to Liam like he was the only thing keeping him stable. It wouldn’t do to be seen lurking around Break’s room so soon after they’d left, after all.