[ wasn't he the one that wanted to leave bruises? it's probably mutual. he can feel the pressure on his hip and it doesn't help things at all. or maybe that's all it does. he pushes hard into david's hand again, into his own hand, the control over his movements slipping as the desperation creeps up on him.
there's no concerns. no thoughts of being overheard or seen. no fear of being found out, not right now. not when he's got this. not when he can hear david doing things, saying things, he'd never expected to hear, except maybe as a nasty joke.
unfortunately, as much experience as he has with women, david's something new. so evan doesn't outlast him. for a few seconds he doesn't want to. the noise he makes when he comes, caught between david and himself, is probably the most frustratingly embarrassing sound he's ever made in david's presence, and maybe anyone's. not a cry, not a moan, but something caught between those and a gasp that turns into a shuddered breath.
that he comes all over david's chest doesn't occur to him right away, but it'll be something to gloat over later. if he ever gets past the what the fuck did i just do aspect of this, anyway. ]
[ it doesn't take david long to follow after him, chasing every last sensation, desperate to commit to memory the urgent way evan moves against him and the noise he makes when he comes. and when david comes shortly after it's messily, with short, breathy groans. ]
[ it comes with a rush of feelings that are familiar, even if it's been a long time now. the guilt and shame and fear dancing at the edges of the warmth and high. he hasn't missed that part of it. david carefully takes his hand from around them, wipes it off on his stomach and lets it fall to his side. the other stays at evan's hip, grip loosening considerably. ]
[ he lets his eyes fall closed while he catches his breath, just to try and enjoy this feeling for a minute before all the other shit comes crashing in. ]
[ when evan finally manages to catch his breath and figure out where he is, there's a few long seconds of outright mortification. he's almost shirtless, his pants below his ass, his dick in his hand and another guy's dick in his hand, almost collapsed on top of that other guy, in his shitty rarely-used apartment. and he feels so totally burned out he can't even push himself off. that that guy is david king is less of a problem in this exact moment, but it's still a problem.
the biggest issue, though, is that he doesn't quite want to move yet. it's painful and awkward like this, but there's a sense of satisfaction running through him that makes him shiver. it was - unexpected. really fucking good, for what little it was.
and then the dread washes up on top of him, like a hand settling on his shoulder, ready to steer him straight into a bottomless pit. but nobody watches this apartment anymore. it's too far out of the way.
he pulls back - not off completely, but away, letting go of david, trying to pull his pants back up and put himself together again. his hands shake just slightly in the process, and that makes him angry at the same time that he's embarrassed. he can't figure out anything to say, so he doesn't say anything. it's always been easier like that. ]
[ the second evan starts to move, it jolts david into full awareness. he abruptly moves under evan, shifting back just enough that he has the space to tuck himself back in his underwear and pull his zipper up. ]
[ he lays there, quiet, trying to process that this happened. that he came out here with the express purpose of hooking up with evan macmillan, and that it was good. it doesn't even especially bother him still having evan's weight on him — it's kind of nice? ]
[ david tilts his head, fighting both the part of himself that always yearns for something more, and the crushing dark that makes him want to shove evan off and retreat as quickly as possible. stops himself reaching out for some point of contact and just tries to... settle. wait until evan's ready to move. ]
[ the bites ache a little, and he's already sore from the way they were ... sitting? lying? whatever that was. little physical things that wouldn't bother him under any other circumstance. now, they're reminders of what he just did, and some of them are going to stick around.
he doesn't quite look at david as he slips off, gripping the arm of the couch to keep himself up. his shirt's open. need to do that up. as he does so: ]
Bathroom's through the bedroom.
[ the only other door in the place leads to both. he figures david's going to want to clean off. the urge to gloat or mock him over being the one with all the evidence on his chest and stomach is there, but it's so small and insignificant he barely even realizes it. he could, but david knows exactly how involved in that he was.
and the whole time, he knows this was all his own fault. he started it. all of it. the only thing david did of his own volition was blow him a month or two back. everything else, evan started. ]
[ david nods and pushes himself up off the couch, looks down at himself with a grimace at all the mess but at least there's nwone on his pants. he sighs and wanders through to the bathroom, not even casting a glance as he passes through the bedroom to get there since he figures it's just more of the same basic, unused stuff. plus he wants to get a good look at what evan did to him. ]
[ which is... a lot. sure he felt it, can still feel it, but david almost laughs when he looks in the mirror and sees all the little red marks across his collarbone and shoulder and chest. it almost looks like he had a rough time at paintball or some shit. ]
[ at least washing up is quick. he's not gonna root around to see what evan has, just uses his hands and whatever handwash is there. it's gross and unpleasant, but it's easy. quick as it is though, david just stands there a little while, staring at his reflection. the panic and shame finally starting to seep through now that he's not occupied, a million hateful words slipping through his mind like they're being whispered in his ear. ]
[ he wants to rip the sink out of the wall and throw it through the mirror, he wants to punch a hole through the door. what the fuck was he thinking? it's not like evan's even remotely close to the first man who's expressed any interest in him over the years, so why is this what makes him break? someone he can barely fucking stand at the best of times? ]
[ he's so fucked. they're both so fucking fucked. ]
[ can't see any towels in the bathroom, so david comes out eventually, body still wet from washing. not that david seems to mind it. there's a halfway vacant look on his face as he steps back into the living room, doing up his pants and belt and looks for where his shirt ended up to put that back on. ]
[ by the time david gets back, evan's done his shirt back up, pulled his jacket on but left that open, and picked up david's clothes to fold them over the arm of the couch. he himself is back in the kitchen, but not really doing anything. there's alcohol in the cupboards - the same stuff they brought over before, whatever didn't get taken when david left - but he doesn't want to drink it.
there's a sore spot on his collarbone, where david returned the favors he doled out. from this distance he can see the red marks that'll darken. whatever little twinge of satisfaction he feels in seeing them is overwhelmed by the idea of what'll happen if david, who takes his shirt off more often than normal people, gets questioned about who left them.
he'll lie, obviously. and probably nobody's going to care enough to question further. but someone might. evan can at least know that nobody's going to see what was left on him.
he doesn't really know what to say, so he stays silent, wiping dust off the counter with a bare hand. his phone has no alerts. no texts, nothing. nobody cares where he is right now. that's probably for the best, but his paranoia is setting things off anyway.
and yet despite it all, there's a tiny flame of satisfaction burning in him, buried under the layers of guilt and shame and rage. ]
[ it's an absent comment as he picks up his shirt from where evan left it on the couch, trying to sound like himself instead of that hollow, morose feeling trying to climb up his throat and choke him. ]
[ sleeves until they're less obviously bites anyway. the thought slips through his mind, but it's hard to really focus on it or anything else right now. he just kind of... stands there, halfway staring at nothing as he pauses midway through doing up his shirt. ]
[ the comment almost startles evan, and he looks up at david, as if acknowledging everything is the problem. but it's not like they can't, now. he could barely ignore the memory of the shut-the-fuck-up-kiss or david blowing him for the last few months. this? this isn't going anywhere. ]
Easier for me than you.
[ it's an automatic comment from somewhere in the depths of his long-standing hatred for david. another insult about david's tendency to ... what, sleep around? take his shirt off? he's not sure.
then he asks a question he knows he shouldn't ask. ]
[ well it is easier for evan, especially given what david knows now, so he can't argue with that, just tilts his head in apparent acceptance. not that david can't tell it's supposed to be an insult but it's not much of one to him. he gets his kit off a lot? so what? ]
Yeah.
[ he answers without thinking. pauses again in the middle of doing up his shit because what the fuck is wrong with him all of a sudden, but david catches himself quickly this time. at this point what's the real danger anymore? evan might tell people about an apartment that only david uses? oh no. and how'd he find that out, they'd have to ask. ]
[ the more he thinks about it, the biggest risk is that evan decides to fight while he's there and breaks david's shit. (because obviously david is a model citizen who never starts anything.) ]
[ it's a bad question, not because of what it is on its own, but because of what it entails. david in evan's territory is bad, but manageable. if things go wrong, he can ... probably deal with it. but him in david's? he's got no power there. no ability to handle anything. it could be a trap.
even if his wasn't, and david didn't seem to have problems coming here. evan's paranoid. always has been and always will be. but he asked the question anyway, which suggests where he'd like to go. because this is going to keep going, no matter how stupid it is. ]
I keep coming here, someone's gonna wonder where I'm going.
[ he's not really known for vanishing acts, and he can only use the excuse of a woman for so long before someone wants to find out who she is. not a problem for david, probably. people expect him to have a rotation of girls who don't have names; they won't ask. it's kind of frustrating that he might not have an advantage in that department. ]
[ "i keep coming here". guess they're well past pretending these are one-offs, something they can just put down, as much as david wants to. because how much he doesn't want to far outweighs that. ]
[ and unfortunately evan has a point. he doesn't really want evan in his place except when he's in the moment and not thinking straight, but he gets the definite sense evan's people are way more involved in his business than david's are in his. he's not sure the logic fully flies, but it's not untrue that if he keeps being seen around the same places, someone's gonna get nosey. ]
[ he hates this, but david picks up his jacket to grab his phone. a frown on his face as he quickly taps out an address on the other side of town. a shitty, dead neighbourhood right on the fringes of their territory where half the apartments and houses are abandoned and boarded up. david doesn't mention that much though. evan can find out for himself. ]
[ evan pulls out his own phone and looks at the address. for a second he wonders: should he delete that? get david to delete it? but for all the things he's expected to do, handing over his phone isn't one of them.
so far.
he's not sure how much farther that'll go.
he can get rid of it later. along with every other conversation he's had with david. once he knows how to get there and can do it. the idea of actually doing it makes something twist in his gut, and he doesn't know if it's fear and anxiety or anticipation that's the cause. all of the above, probably. ]
[ david stands there a little uncomfortably for a moment. what now? they've both acknowledged this is going to keep happening, but this is so unlike any kind of sexual relationship he's ever had, david doesn't know what to do with himself. he doesn't even like this guy, can barely stand him even when things are amicable enough between them. ]
[ he tucks his shirt in and throws on his jacket, grabs his tie and lets it hang around his neck. ]
Okay-- uh. I'll be off then.
[ jesus christ, throw him into the river. david turns to go, shaking his head in dismay at his own awkwardness as he heads for the back door. mouthing a silent what the fuck where evan can't see. ]
[ evan's no better, just nodding as david says his awkward goodbyes and leaves. he's still staring at the address. he could do something worthwhile with this. turn it in. have it raided. have it tracked and bugged. they probably wouldn't get anything really good, but they might. and if nothing else, they'd know a safehouse. it'd get him far. and all he'd have to do is say he bought the information.
the urge flares and fades. he hates david and wants to beat his face in with his own two hands. turning over something small and private like this - he could, but where would it lead him? he'd be just as miserable as before. moreso, knowing what he could have, or at least try to get his hands on.
and, some part of him thinks bitterly as david's footsteps disappear out of hearing, it's not as if it'll help him at all. he'll get a moment of passing praise, and it'll disappear. be gone as quickly as it was there. his father won't care. he never will.
for a while evan lets that sink in, and then he gathers up what little's left of his own stuff and leaves. just out drinking. that's all. that's all he ever does on his own these days. ]
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hardlydead) wrote2024-05-20 10:36 pm
no subject
there's no concerns. no thoughts of being overheard or seen. no fear of being found out, not right now. not when he's got this. not when he can hear david doing things, saying things, he'd never expected to hear, except maybe as a nasty joke.
unfortunately, as much experience as he has with women, david's something new. so evan doesn't outlast him. for a few seconds he doesn't want to. the noise he makes when he comes, caught between david and himself, is probably the most frustratingly embarrassing sound he's ever made in david's presence, and maybe anyone's. not a cry, not a moan, but something caught between those and a gasp that turns into a shuddered breath.
that he comes all over david's chest doesn't occur to him right away, but it'll be something to gloat over later. if he ever gets past the what the fuck did i just do aspect of this, anyway. ]
no subject
[ it comes with a rush of feelings that are familiar, even if it's been a long time now. the guilt and shame and fear dancing at the edges of the warmth and high. he hasn't missed that part of it. david carefully takes his hand from around them, wipes it off on his stomach and lets it fall to his side. the other stays at evan's hip, grip loosening considerably. ]
[ he lets his eyes fall closed while he catches his breath,
just to try and enjoy this feeling for a minute before all the other shit comes crashing in. ]
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the biggest issue, though, is that he doesn't quite want to move yet. it's painful and awkward like this, but there's a sense of satisfaction running through him that makes him shiver. it was - unexpected. really fucking good, for what little it was.
and then the dread washes up on top of him, like a hand settling on his shoulder, ready to steer him straight into a bottomless pit. but nobody watches this apartment anymore. it's too far out of the way.
he pulls back - not off completely, but away, letting go of david, trying to pull his pants back up and put himself together again. his hands shake just slightly in the process, and that makes him angry at the same time that he's embarrassed. he can't figure out anything to say, so he doesn't say anything. it's always been easier like that. ]
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[ he lays there, quiet, trying to process that this happened. that he came out here with the express purpose of hooking up with evan macmillan, and that it was good. it doesn't even especially bother him still having evan's weight on him — it's kind of nice? ]
[ david tilts his head, fighting both the part of himself that always yearns for something more, and the crushing dark that makes him want to shove evan off and retreat as quickly as possible. stops himself reaching out for some point of contact and just tries to... settle. wait until evan's ready to move. ]
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he doesn't quite look at david as he slips off, gripping the arm of the couch to keep himself up. his shirt's open. need to do that up. as he does so: ]
Bathroom's through the bedroom.
[ the only other door in the place leads to both. he figures david's going to want to clean off. the urge to gloat or mock him over being the one with all the evidence on his chest and stomach is there, but it's so small and insignificant he barely even realizes it. he could, but david knows exactly how involved in that he was.
and the whole time, he knows this was all his own fault. he started it. all of it. the only thing david did of his own volition was blow him a month or two back. everything else, evan started. ]
no subject
[ which is... a lot. sure he felt it, can still feel it, but david almost laughs when he looks in the mirror and sees all the little red marks across his collarbone and shoulder and chest. it almost looks like he had a rough time at paintball or some shit. ]
[ at least washing up is quick. he's not gonna root around to see what evan has, just uses his hands and whatever handwash is there. it's gross and unpleasant, but it's easy. quick as it is though, david just stands there a little while, staring at his reflection. the panic and shame finally starting to seep through now that he's not occupied, a million hateful words slipping through his mind like they're being whispered in his ear. ]
[ he wants to rip the sink out of the wall and throw it through the mirror, he wants to punch a hole through the door. what the fuck was he thinking? it's not like evan's even remotely close to the first man who's expressed any interest in him over the years, so why is this what makes him break? someone he can barely fucking stand at the best of times? ]
[ he's so fucked. they're both so fucking fucked. ]
[ can't see any towels in the bathroom, so david comes out eventually, body still wet from washing. not that david seems to mind it. there's a halfway vacant look on his face as he steps back into the living room, doing up his pants and belt and looks for where his shirt ended up to put that back on. ]
no subject
there's a sore spot on his collarbone, where david returned the favors he doled out. from this distance he can see the red marks that'll darken. whatever little twinge of satisfaction he feels in seeing them is overwhelmed by the idea of what'll happen if david, who takes his shirt off more often than normal people, gets questioned about who left them.
he'll lie, obviously. and probably nobody's going to care enough to question further. but someone might. evan can at least know that nobody's going to see what was left on him.
he doesn't really know what to say, so he stays silent, wiping dust off the counter with a bare hand. his phone has no alerts. no texts, nothing. nobody cares where he is right now. that's probably for the best, but his paranoia is setting things off anyway.
and yet despite it all, there's a tiny flame of satisfaction burning in him, buried under the layers of guilt and shame and rage. ]
no subject
[ it's an absent comment as he picks up his shirt from where evan left it on the couch, trying to sound like himself instead of that hollow, morose feeling trying to climb up his throat and choke him. ]
[ sleeves until they're less obviously bites anyway. the thought slips through his mind, but it's hard to really focus on it or anything else right now. he just kind of... stands there, halfway staring at nothing as he pauses midway through doing up his shirt. ]
[ this is fucking surreal. ]
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Easier for me than you.
[ it's an automatic comment from somewhere in the depths of his long-standing hatred for david. another insult about david's tendency to ... what, sleep around? take his shirt off? he's not sure.
then he asks a question he knows he shouldn't ask. ]
You got a place nobody watches?
no subject
Yeah.
[ he answers without thinking. pauses again in the middle of doing up his shit because what the fuck is wrong with him all of a sudden, but david catches himself quickly this time. at this point what's the real danger anymore? evan might tell people about an apartment that only david uses? oh no. and how'd he find that out, they'd have to ask. ]
[ the more he thinks about it, the biggest risk is that evan decides to fight while he's there and breaks david's shit. (because obviously david is a model citizen who never starts anything.) ]
Why? You wanna come over?
no subject
even if his wasn't, and david didn't seem to have problems coming here. evan's paranoid. always has been and always will be. but he asked the question anyway, which suggests where he'd like to go. because this is going to keep going, no matter how stupid it is. ]
I keep coming here, someone's gonna wonder where I'm going.
[ he's not really known for vanishing acts, and he can only use the excuse of a woman for so long before someone wants to find out who she is. not a problem for david, probably. people expect him to have a rotation of girls who don't have names; they won't ask. it's kind of frustrating that he might not have an advantage in that department. ]
no subject
[ and unfortunately evan has a point. he doesn't really want evan in his place except when he's in the moment and not thinking straight, but he gets the definite sense evan's people are way more involved in his business than david's are in his. he's not sure the logic fully flies, but it's not untrue that if he keeps being seen around the same places, someone's gonna get nosey. ]
[ he hates this, but david picks up his jacket to grab his phone. a frown on his face as he quickly taps out an address on the other side of town. a shitty, dead neighbourhood right on the fringes of their territory where half the apartments and houses are abandoned and boarded up. david doesn't mention that much though. evan can find out for himself. ]
Meet at mine next time, then.
no subject
so far.
he's not sure how much farther that'll go.
he can get rid of it later. along with every other conversation he's had with david. once he knows how to get there and can do it. the idea of actually doing it makes something twist in his gut, and he doesn't know if it's fear and anxiety or anticipation that's the cause. all of the above, probably. ]
Yeah. Sure.
[ next time. god damn. ]
no subject
[ he tucks his shirt in and throws on his jacket, grabs his tie and lets it hang around his neck. ]
Okay-- uh. I'll be off then.
[ jesus christ, throw him into the river. david turns to go, shaking his head in dismay at his own awkwardness as he heads for the back door. mouthing a silent what the fuck where evan can't see. ]
no subject
the urge flares and fades. he hates david and wants to beat his face in with his own two hands. turning over something small and private like this - he could, but where would it lead him? he'd be just as miserable as before. moreso, knowing what he could have, or at least try to get his hands on.
and, some part of him thinks bitterly as david's footsteps disappear out of hearing, it's not as if it'll help him at all. he'll get a moment of passing praise, and it'll disappear. be gone as quickly as it was there. his father won't care. he never will.
for a while evan lets that sink in, and then he gathers up what little's left of his own stuff and leaves. just out drinking. that's all. that's all he ever does on his own these days. ]