12. Love knows no bounds [smut]

Honey, you're familiar

Like my mirror years ago

[From Eden - Hozier]

Summary: Sex (but in the intimacy way) and confessions turned to angst. Slightly ooc.

BASED ON that one paragraph in the photographs chapter. You'll know the one if you look 4 it.

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Old habits die hard, aye? If you're uncomfortable with nsfw or sexual content in any way: don't read. Also, I cannot write pron like I used to, expect mediocrity.

This was the first draft to get finished on my "all-nighter to catch up my writing" haha, no idea when I'm gunna write more dsaf content again but I have to QUICKLY get to work on writing a gift for my partner's birthday... ehe....

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Nights in Vegas were tough. Ultimately, the end goal was to have some relaxing fun, but the drug induced hot flashes drained a person's energy, even if the person in question was barely alive to begin with. By the time either of them made it back to their cheap motel, they'd crash to the bed or, additionally, the floor. Tonight was much the same; with the moon directly above them, they stumbled into their room. Jack especially had been sweating balls, to put it formally, during the walk back. They'd been too broke to order a taxi, instead having spent the last of their money on edibles, and the trip took roughly an hour by foot.

But he couldn't complain; when he first walked into that restaurant, when he first saw that devious purple grin, he had never expected it would lead to such fun. In a life that was ultimately purposeless, Dave was a bright beacon of light; an ideal. Between an endless cycle of visiting restaurants, sending kids who barely understood death to an afterlife they hadn't dreamed of existing, the drugs were a relief. Dave was a relief. He hadn't known the man long, but he already suspected that there was more to him that he was yet to uncover. Perhaps, he considered, the two were more similar than they initially thought. It didn't take a very observant eye to note that there was something terribly wrong with the aubergine-hued man, whom he looked all too similar to.

He'd loosened his collar a long while ago, but with the door falling shut behind him he practically ripped off his shirt and discarded it on the floor. Whereas Dave held no shame in going out shirtless, he preferred to keep it on. It was some sort of attempt to make himself look humane, since the scars that tainted his body easily gave away the fact he shouldn't be alive. With Dave, you could pretty much tell from a singular glance. He fanned his face with his hand, a nihil effort to cool himself down, while Dave sat himself down on the bed's edge. It was about time to go to sleep and doze off, the sun wouldn't make them wait on its return for much longer.

Just as he was about to propose heading to bed, a cold hand reached to his chest, ultimately startling him. Dave's blown wide eyes rested on where his fingers trailed Jack's dislocated ribs, surveying the texture. While he had recovered relatively well after the springlock accident, several crushed ribs on his left side hadn't healed properly. This meant that, under his pecks, there lay a row of bumps and indents that caused him to slant sideways a tad. Dave saw where the pounds of orange makeup ended and where his real, rotting and scarred, skin started. As his hand trailed the anomaly restlessly, he saw something akin to himself; the pattern of a springlock failure.

Jack felt dubious he hadn't seen it before, it was more likely that he'd simply been too drunk to remember. That, and the orange foundation that stained his side of the bedsheets, which had somehow gone unnoticed. Another hand drew him from his thoughts, resting on his stomach as Dave shifted to sit in front of him. His fingers traced dotted and scarred stripes, evidence of undeath; evidence of a mutually horrific experience. Where he was typically repulsed by touch, he now found himself leaning into it. He felt as if he could show Dave, because in the end, his body looked much the same. To find comfort in similarity, when the both had presumed finding someone so alike would be impossible.

He allowed it, permitted for oversized hands to wordlessly examine his body. The decomposing vessel which he resided in, which he had despised from the moment he was reincarnated, was suddenly loved by another. The glares of people whose face was tainted with disgust, who had further convinced him of his own filth, all seemed of no worth in comparison to Dave's adoring gaze. He released a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding into the air between them, only vaguely aware of the tension that had begun to build.

When Dave's hands began trailing higher, to his shoulder, to his neck, and eventually to gently cup his cheeks; he didn't question it. He didn't question it when his voice raised the question whether or not he could kiss him, he simply nodded in response. It felt obvious, as if it was always meant to be, when the two connected. Despite having given his consent ahead of time, he still gasped into Dave's mouth in surprise. His hands found their way to Dave's shoulders, tightly grasping into his blouse as his tongue carefully trailed Jack's lower lip.

He was horribly, yet deliciously, invasive. The room contorted and spun, the dirty stained sheets were suddenly a cloud of bliss that kept them afloat. They returned kisses, touches, sharing their desire for closeness in a world of distance. Answering the shift of Dave's tongue with a subtle tilt of his head, Jack felt the warmth of another person's mouth intervene with his own. Their tongues, explorative and pressed together, maintained that delicate point of connection.

There, in the palm of Dave's hands, he allowed himself to be vulnerable. It was ridiculous that, out of all possible options, it was this man in particular who penetrated his emotionally distant persona. The grudges and guilt, which had tainted him for years, made room for a whole other set of emotions and desires. At first it was a relief, a distraction, but when Dave pulled back; he was quick to reconnect them. He couldn't lose contact now, it would make room for something much less fun. Instead, he simply kept indulging, yanking Dave impossibly closer by the shirt.

He could reach, and he could touch Jack if he wished. He wouldn't retreat, Dave knew he wouldn't. The way Jack's lips hungrily found his again, the manner in which his mouth had already opened before they clashed, how his hands still clasped into his shirt. He could squeeze his flesh, the vessel of decay that was similar to his own; he was there. A hand shifted to Jack's side, grabbing onto the meat of his waist as his fingers dug in pale orange, leaning back to see if he would follow. As expected; he did, and Dave fell back against the sheets he sat on. Jack's hands withdrew from Dave's shoulder, landing against the mattress below to support himself. This meant that he was unintentionally separated from the other's lips, lingering above him as he panted for air.

"Fuck, sportsy-"

Jack was too far gone to think about anything but the taste of the other's lips, he could see it in his eyes. He rested a hand gently overtop of Jack's mouth, preventing him from diving back in.

"You're desperate..."

He concluded, with a lighthearted giggled and a blush on his face.

"You're the one who asked to kiss me-!"

Jack bit back, from under his palm. Dave couldn't seriously be the one putting this to a halt, Jack thought, he had seen the way he'd eyed him up and down plenty of times. No, he had become far more than a lackey, he realized that right after they murdered a handful of toddlers. Where Jack had initially been a means to an end; the way he was content to brutally drive a knife into a screaming toddler's chest sparked a distant yet familiar longing within Dave.

"Don't go accusing me."

Continued Jack, swatting Dave's hand away from his mouth. He returned that same smile that so obviously painted Dave's face with a cocky expression, he could very well feel it. Knowing Dave would seize the opportunity, he called his bluff before the other could:

"Besides, what about it? Maybe I just want you close."

Dave's expression faltered, for just a brief second, before he attempted to recover it. Remaining unsuccessful, his eyes darted over Jack's face, before scanning his body. Even now, with Jack leaning over him, he felt uncertain. What did this mean, not only to him, but to the other? Did Jack see him as a person, or was he simply stoned enough to discard his monstrous aspects. There, under him, he felt vulnerable. How was he to put trust in Jack, when no one had ever treated him as this much of a person before.

"You mean it?"

His voice was weaker than he hoped for it to be, but Jack smiled at him regardless. He understood, because in the end, he knew exactly what Dave felt. Dave wasn't the only one typically presumed to be some sort of monster, cryptid, or whatever else the general public could make up, he too knew what it was like. The only difference was, he wasn't as obvious about it as Dave was. Jack dipped his head beside the other's, lingering beside his ear as he spoke in a gentle tone;

"Yeah, Dave, I'm serious. I like you, one hell of a fuckin' lot, and I want- I need you closer than this."

And sure, that statement alone would come to haunt him for years to come. When he would face his brother, sister, and every child that died at Dave's hands, he would feel guilt. This would come to be a betrayal to his promise, to his second opportunity at life. But now, as he retreated to meet Dave's adoring eye, it was the most enticing thing he could have ever said.

"Then kiss me like you mean it, old sport-"

Dave's grin,and its complimentary tone of voice, returned. It was astounding to Jack how little Dave thought of himself, almost certain Henry had to have played some part in this. He knew from experience that, if the idea were reinforced enough, you eventually began to assume it for truth. In the end, despite the guilt, he was glad he could reassure Dave that there was still someone who perceived him as human, even if the person in question was barely human himself.

He wasn't given time to dwell on the subject much longer, given one of Dave's hands on the back of his neck urged their lips together again. And wasn't it just the sweetest fucking thing. Everything went so smoothly with Dave, bitterly contrasting to the day-to-day life where he would have to drag himself through the hours. Dave was a scary lot like him, and clinging to him was easier than developing his own path. Somehow, it all felt natural; from the literal childmurder, to the way his hand landed on the patch of skin exposed by Dave's shirt riding up.

Jack had seen before that there were more scars on Dave's body than his own, and they all belonged to something other than a springlock failure. That pattern consisted of smooth dots and stripes which resided on both their bodies, disrupted by much less explanatory scars that seemed almost medical. As Dave raised his arms to help Jack take off his shirt, he found a brief moment to study them. The most major resided over where his stomach and kidneys ought to be, he thought to himself, before he noticed the one atop his heart. Hiding it behind the gesture of pressing Dave back flat against the sheets, he rested his hand over it.

No heartbeat.

He could see Dave's fluttering eyelashes through his own, eyes threatening to close but refusing to. He could feel the way his tongue returned the movements of his own, desperately yet weakly pushing back against him. He, however, couldn't feel a heartbeat. Just like he hadn't felt his own for months after the incident. It had refused to function, yet Jack walked amongst the living, somehow. Eventually, he suspected it did heal somewhat, considering he began to feel a steady few beats every minute.

"Dave-"

He whispered against bruised lips, refusing to pull away further than an inch. Feeling as though he should say something, he gently continued:

"-This might... Escalate."

It wasn't the most elegant way to put it, certainly not, but it managed to get the point across.

"Do you- Do you mind that-?"

"If I wanted anyone to see me like that, it would be you, old sport"

The trust -the devotion that had already begun developing- he had in Jack was ill-fated. Someone like him, someone who treated him as if he was anything but a monster, someone whose touch was so enthralling that he could drown in it. The statement, and the low tone it was said in, admittedly made an impression on Jack. The New-Yorkers accent was typically enjoyable to listen to, but this, this was a whole other level of emotion inducing foolery.

He removed his hand from Dave's chest; keeping it there wouldn't suddenly summon a heart anyway, and moved to pry one of his hands from his waist. Jack pressed his palm to the other's, gently squeezing it before he flipped it around and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of his hand. He watched Dave's face contort into a grin, his eyes darting anywhere but Jack's. And in that moment that felt so heartwarming, he questioned if either of them would remember this when morning would come around.

"Are you sure?"

Were they too high and drunk to develop anything remotely close to a memory; Jack couldn't tell, and felt dubious that Dave could. This moment, where he saw Dave as someone who was like him, where vulnerability overflowed out of similarity, could very well mean nothing in a few hours. And maybe, he thought, that was for the best. No matter how much he sometimes wanted to, he couldn't possibly consider actually developing a relationship with this guy, let alone a remotely healthy one.

"I'm certain, sportsy."

"Jack- Call me Jack."

If this wouldn't mean anything by morning, then why not make it more meaningful now. Make it mean something, so long the memory would persist, open himself up like he never had before. Dave's eyes studied his face for a brief second, where they finally landed, before his grin widened further. He couldn't help but return the same lopsided smile, feeling his face grow just a tad hotter. They looked so utterly in love.

"Jack."

He repeated, testing how the word felt in his mouth. Again, he repeated, his voice growing softer and more loving each time. Jack laughed in return, burying his face in the crook of Dave's neck to hide his embarrassed expression. Dave had no idea of the meaning behind that name, of what he had done to it, but he found it plausible that way. In the end, it was better to enjoy who he was now, than to dwell on the past and all its tragedy. More so a distraction of his own thoughts, he pressed a kiss to Dave's neck from where he'd hidden himself.

Jack hadn't put much of an intent behind it, but as he heard Dave's voice turn to a whimper as he pronounced his name again, he repeated the act. Surely, another whine followed as he felt Dave arch against his torso. This was pathetic. There was no way he was this sensitive, this man must've been even more touch starved than Jack initially thought. He trailed his tongue along Dave's neck, feeling him jolt under his very own hands. Playfully, Jack scraped his teeth along his flesh, ensuring he wouldn't actually hurt the man. A full on moan escaped from Dave's lips, much to his dismay as he moved a hand to cover his mouth.

"Talk about desperate, huh?"

Said Jack, in referral to their earlier conversation, as he raised his head away from Dave's neck. He didn't respond, instead shamefully looking to the side as he lowered his back down on the mattress again. Was it just him, or had it gotten hotter in here? Jack could hear his breathing growing heavier, intenser, and he didn't have to look down to know what he would see there.

"You wanted me to see you, didn't you?"

Dave's eyes met his for a second, before darting away as he nodded.

"Then show yourself."

He said, with such love laced in his voice that he sounded as if he genuinely wanted to see all of Dave. And he did, he really did, it was just hard to get that idea into the purple guy's head. It took him a second, but he eventually returned his face towards Jack's with an embarrassed blush tainting his cheeks. He returned a gentle smile, his voice a conformation:

"That's more like it..."

As he spoke, he shifted in position and sat over Dave, his legs easily astride the man's narrow hips. His free hand, which wasn't holding one of Dave's, moved to grab the remaining palm. He pinned them above his head, into the sheets he lay on, as he ground his behind against Dave's crotch with a slow roll. His body twitched, mercilessly, under him at the act. As Jack thought about how touch starved he must have been, he considered that he may very well be just as lonely as Jack once was. Tossed out and discarded like a stray animal, left to wander the world which had no one like yourself.

Another roll of his hips, feeling Dave grow hard against him while simultaneously fueling his own arousal. Purple fingers which desperately squeezed his hand whenever a whine escaped his lips, glowing eyes similar to his own. Eyes which only he and Dave had, eyes that indicated their similarity and showed that despite all, they had each other. How could he care about anything, when he had this delight of a fucking man beneath him, whining as if he was in heat, melting with his every movement. He wanted this, he craved this -oh Fredbear- how he desired this.

His mind contained nothing but blissful ignorance, kissing Dave on his open mouth amidst a particularly loud moan. The confinement of his attire -that is to say; the old jeans he had cut up to be shorts- began to feel constricting around his own arousal. Almost certain Dave would have to be much the same, judging by the hardness that pressed against his tailbone, he freed one of his hands from Dave's grip. He shifted back a bit, sitting over Dave's thighs now, as he pried their lips apart. Jack's free hand move to loom over the zipper of his pants, looking up at Dave with his mouth hanging open:

"Can I take them off?"

He gently asked, and Dave was quick to nod furiously. It took him a bit of fumbling with the zipper of Dave's pants, but hey; he's one sniff of coke away from entering the multiverse, go easy on him. Eventually, though, he got them undone and moved off of Dave to pull them down to his ankles. There, he struggled again to get the fabric over his feet, but succeeded after an unnecessary amount of effort was put into it. There he lay, near entirely exposed in front of him, so delicate. And he trusted Jack, he showed him his vulnerability, and he would return it to him.

Stepping off the bed, he shed his own pants, leaving the two in their boxers as he crawled back to his initial spot over Dave. He trailed his body, his scars, his features; his story. Gently pressing a kiss to his chest, Dave observed the orange adore him like he was all there was in this world. Where he always sought to find a replacement for the remainder of love that vanished when Henry did, he now realized that he had never been this overwhelmed by genuine, pure, love. His boney posture, sprawled on dirty sheets, treated like a jewel on a satin pillow.

Jack. The name still sounded odd in his head, but he knew, with certainty, that Jack had loved him. Right here, right now, with hands hugging his sides. He had never managed to be someone's son, but perhaps, he could be someone's lover. A poetic thought to have, especially when the lover in question's crotch was pressed directly against yours.

As Jack pressed a kiss to his collarbone, he stifled a whine and weakly bucked his hips against him. Whereas he usually seemed unbothered by Dave's continuous whining, he now moved away to scrounge his nightstand. Out came a bottle of lubricating jelly, which they bought on their way to Vegas. With the amount of hookers that streamed in and out their room, a wad of spit and a bit of effort wouldn't always suffice. He held it out between them, raising his eyebrows up at Dave.

"Oh I am not taking it up the ass, that's gay-"

Dave said with a grin on his face, before the two abruptly emerged into laughter together. It was nice that, despite all the seriousness, all the underlying emotions that would go unspoken; they could still laugh together. It was comfortable. Jack sat back over Dave, straightening his back and stifling his own laughter just to replace it with a more serious look.

"No, but- If you don't want to, we won't."

He lay there, a bit dazed. His sex life, aside from a few STD's, had been fine, but people hadn't exactly been considerate of him in the other parts of his life. He sought to replace some form of evil with Jack, but what he got was someone who didn't fit that role; someone who saw him as a person with wants and needs. And he wanted it, he was very certain of that, he had been for a while. He released a breath he didn't need to hold to survive, and looked up at the orange figure studying his face.

"I would like to, Jack."

It made him shiver a little. He wasn't used to hearing his own name emerge from Dave's mouth, and it emphasized the reality of it, the intimacy they found themselves in.

"Very much so-"

He continued, a little flustered under Jack's gaze. Intending to strip the last feeble piece of fabric from Dave's body, Jack sat back, but reconsidered something as he spoke up:

"Do you want me to use a condom?"

He pondered it for a second; anything he had, Jack probably did as well. It couldn't kill him, perks of being undead, but he wasn't certain about the specifics of Jack's bodily functions. With the crisis out there, it was better safe than sorry, especially when straying from the front entrance. He nodded, and Jack retrieved one from the nightstand and held it between his lips, which was admittedly hot to Dave.

It wasn't odd when they both got rid of their boxers, it wasn't odd when Jack gestured for Dave to hand him a pillow, and it wasn't odd when he gently lifted the purple man's hips to put it under his back. It was all so awfully familiar; they had no fear of showing their vulnerabilities, because they knew the other would understand. The scars, the dislocated ribs that had prompted this whole thing, all showed similarity that faded into ease. The only dirty look Jack had given him was when Dave told him to, quote on quote, whip it out.

It was only when cold fingers pressed against him, when he jolted the slightest from his position. Jack's hand rested on his thigh, keeping his legs apart in the name of better access. He shot a look towards his face, raising his eyebrows as he asked whether or not Dave was okay. The man was quick to nod and confirm, covering the lower half of his face with his hand in a vein attempt to hide the heat that had risen. Gently, and with a slow pace, Jack pressed one of his fingers in until the first knuckle.

The feeling was cold and foreign, and he carefully propped himself further up on the pillow he lay on. For a while it remained like that, before his body acclimatized to it and relaxed around the digit, nodding towards Jack. The process repeated, until he could move one finger freely. It was so awfully intimate. The air had grown thick with tension, their eyes only shifting from one another's when it was absolutely necessary, and their bodies sharing the little heat they maintained. He curled a finger inside him, prodding against a section which didn't match the structure of the rest of his insides, and watched Dave's body jolt and tense.

He didn't know how he'd ended up here, with arousal flaring within him. He didn't know when it happened, he presumed he couldn't even love anymore to begin with, but he did. It happened, somewhere in that dank saferoom, somewhere on Vegas streets. Between drink and drugs, they had found love, intimacy; a fulfillment of mutual desire.

He retracted his finger which, much to his surprise, appeared clean. The two exchanged a brief conversation that ensured the both were familiar with the following course of action. Jack lubed up another finger, gently tracing the muscle before applying a minimal amount of pressure. Dave whined softly at the cold sensation, but his body gave way far more easily than the first time. He was safe, and his body knew as such, allowing Jack's fingers to slowly ease inside him.

With his fingers making a slow scissoring motion, he watched Dave's leg twitch and his eyelids shutter. And wasn't it just the most beautiful thing ever, Jack? He knew what it was like to be powerless, at the mercy of another, he could never forget what it was like in that damned bear suit. But here Dave was, voluntarily putting himself in that state, putting enough trust in Jack to provide him with full control. He felt honored to be given that, in a weird sense of the word.

"I'm ready for you, sportsy-"

"I- Wuh..."

His thoughts vanished just as quickly as they appeared, snapped out of his intoxicated trance by Dave's words. They'd been making good progress with stretching Dave, but could most certainly do more before moving any further. Jack looked up at him, words briefly stripped from his mouth. Then again, who was he to assume anything about Dave, really. With how much the man managed to keep surprising him, he wouldn't be bewildered if this wasn't the first time Dave had been in such a position.

"Are you sure-? I don't want to hurt you, we can take a little more time to-"

"I'm certain."

Dave cut him off, his voice firm and certain. Jack breathed a quiet okay, gently yet swiftly removing his fingers from the other's body. Doing this unprepared was really not the best of ideas, Jack briefly thought as he wiped his fingers clean on the sheets that were stained already anyway. Being drunk and quite possibly high was really an amenity in this case, given his eyes couldn't focus for long enough to actually notice anything off-putting.

He was quick to search for that condom which he'd abandoned somewhere earlier, where was it anyway? Spacetime was of surprisingly little relevance in this situation, even if it felt like it was all coming down on him at the same time. Dave, who apparently had more skill in searching, found the thing before Jack did and held it out before him. He thanked the purple man, taking it from his hand and ripping it with his teeth. While Jack hadn't thought much of it, the visual alone caused a stir in Dave's gut and the slightest twitch of his cock.

Soon enough he was lining himself up with the one whose relationship he couldn't label as of now, gently holding him by the hips. His eyes met Dave's, equally as half lidded and filled with ecstasy, and he gave a nod of confirmation. Their breathing synced, two heaving chests that moved in the same manner; two of the same souls, if only. He slowly pressed himself into Dave, not without a bit of rheostat, but successfully regardless. The two became one, their bodies conjoined and perfectly in sync together. Every little whimper from Dave was answered with an equally as depraved one from Jack, every breath was met with one from the other mid-air.

He fit so perfectly, so delicately, in his hands. His typically cold skin was flushed warm against Jack's hands, the expression on his face was nothing but beauty and oh, oh the way he felt around him was something that Jack would never be able to put to words. He leant over Dave, whose legs lay on his hips, muscles tensing as Jack slid into him. Jack's face contorted into a loose smile, his mouth open and sucking in quick breaths as one his hands sought Dave's. Their fingers intertwined, much like their bodies, laying restlessly in the sheets. And as both watched the other's face flush with pure love and adoration, they knew neither of them would last long.

They didn't know when their lips met again, didn't comprehend when Jack began slowly moving his hips in and out of the other. All they really knew was that there was a love that would go unmatched. The hues of their bodies painted the surroundings with color, floating and intertwining within another realm as if love was able surpass that of the physical. Dave was surprisingly warm -especially considering the decaying state of his body- and tight around him, continuously dragging him back in. Jack's hands found way to cup the other's face, foreheads pressed together as he whispered delicate praises for every slow and sloppy thrust inside the other. If he looked down, he could see the gentle stir of Dave's arousal with each of them.

Behind his back, he felt Dave interlock his legs, keeping him closer and therefore only allowing him to draw out part of his length. He bit his bottom lip in a smile, arms wrapping around Jack's neck as he listened to the soft grunts that he so desperately tried to suppress. And he saw the way Dave looked at him, in the same manner in which Jack had looked at him moments earlier. Dave saw recognition in the same way Jack did, and he observed this with each thrust, hands holding on to purple thighs in an attempt to pry insert himself even further.

In that room, on those stained sheets, it became evident that love truly knew no bounds. He should hate Dave; hate him for his attachment to Henry, for what he had brought upon his family, for all the innocent lives he had taken. But he didn't, matter of fact, he had become all too similar at the first given opportunity. Here he was, empathizing and relating to what he promised to destroy upon resurrection; loving the murderer that was slowly fucked out of his mind under him.

"You can go faster sportsy, I won't break~"

A request so delicious he couldn't help but abide by it, increasing his pace. Dave whined under him, quickly escalating to moans as skin clashed with harsh sounds, the bed rocking with their movement. His fingers dug in his neck, his back, tugged at his skin and showed desperation. Jack's mind grew deliciously blank; void of concern, of guilt, of anything but the strong sense of adoration that had contaminated him. His breathing came out raggedy and his hands somehow pulled Dave's body closer each and every time, forlorn to maintain that precious point of contact.

"Dave, I-"

He lost track of time, no longer aware of how long passed between words. His speech was incomprehensible, no words could quite embody his feelings. The familiarity Dave brought was familiar, like his mirror had been years ago, but that wasn't quite where it ended. Despite their akin situations; they personalities differed, an unlikely but rather suitable match. He loved him, he really did; Dave was the final and singular piece that completed him. He just didn't know how to voice such a thing, especially not after years of containing any and all emotions within himself.

"I think I-"

Dave kissed him, invasive, hungry; cutting him off. That was the thing, too, there was rarely ever room for feelings. He knew Dave's persona consisted of exaggerations, he understood that the both of them would never be able to acknowledge their own affection. But as he felt himself grow nearer to his climax, he understood that there was only limited time for vulnerability. That time was now, now that they were exposed; this feeble moment where they saw each other for what they were. One of Dave's hands had dipped between them, stroking himself rapidly, and Jack knew he was close as well. He closed and tightened around him, every thrust becoming more overwhelmingly pleasurable. Dave tore himself away, rushed words between moans and heavy breaths:

"Jack- Fuck, sportsy, I'm close... I- Ngh- I-"

"Dave-"

He heaved, feeling his cock pulsate as Dave's muscles tightened heavily around him. Now or never, was all that rushed through his mind.

"I'm in love with you, I- I love you-"

Saying it out loud was definitely something, especially when taking in consideration that he had barely admitted it to himself. Dave's eyes widened in sync with Jack's, before screwing shut as he came, hard, with a final drag of his tight fist. The visual alone pushed Jack over the edge, collapsing on top of Dave's chest, shaking as he held the man tightly against him. What had he done, he thought as he heaved. Silence filled the room, and he felt Dave's seed stick to his chest.

"I love you too, Jack..."

Dave finally responded, his voice dragged out and his chest heaving between the two. Oh, God, what had he done. This was bad, really bad, Jack thought to himself as clarity and guilt began to set in. As soon as that happened, he was active again. He sat up rapidly, pulling out of Dave with just too much of a rush as he groaned painfully in turn. His eyes shot around the room, anywhere but Dave's body, and panic began to set in. He had sworn to save her, and here he was; a murderer, one who had just confessed his love to half the reason why she was dead anyway. He thought of himself as a monster. Was he just as bad, or perhaps even worse?

"Shit, shit, shit- Sorry, I didn't mean- I-"

His hands reached up to lay atop his head, tears threatening to dwell behind his eyes. For the first time, he dared to look at Dave. Just in time to see the utterly content look on Dave's face falter to one of concern, picking up on Jack's panic. He sat up in an attempt to reach his hand out to Jack, just to fall back against the sheets upon feeling a stinging pain shoot through his body. The drugs, the alcohol, had converted any earlier pain upon being stretched into pleasure, but with the look in Jack's eyes he was suddenly painstakingly sober.

"Jack, what do you mean...?"

"Stop calling me that, you-! I can't, I- We shouldn't-"

He stumbled over his words, trying to process and come to a conclusion. Dave, on his end, thought he understood and made an attempt to comfort Jack:

"Hey- We don't have to make this public, I mean- Come and stuff, we can just... Be us in private?"

Jack's head snapped towards him, guilt and confusion towards his own feelings now overtaken with his usual anger. Dave was oblivious, he hadn't understood his own impact, and it infuriated him:

"Come out? Come out?! You're a murderer, Dave!"

Now it was Dave's turn to speak with anger lacing his voice:

"Oh fuck off! So are you, you know? You're not a fuckin' saint, old sport."

He growled, through gritted teeth. It was that exact knowledge that further encouraged Jack panic; he had become what he promised to destroy, roughly a decade ago. He scrambled off the bed, in a rush, attempting to collect his clothing. Dave could only watch, wordlessly overwhelmed and confused.

"Where the fuck are you going?!"

Jack's head snapped towards him, and he was overcome with a different sense of guilt. He had already abandoned his promise, and he was now going to abandon Dave just as he had put himself in an incredibly vulnerable position.

"Shit sorry, I- I should take care of you, I-"

He attempted to voice his thoughts, but failed horribly as the accusing look on Dave's face made him fall quiet. He had trusted Jack with his vulnerability, with his body, and here he was.

"I should, get you some water, you just- We just-"

It hurt for Dave to move, he could see it as he turned his back to him. His arms hugged his chest, curling in on himself as Jack's heart sank.

"Dave- Please..."

"Fuck off Jack."

He grumbled in response, a deeply saddening tone in his voice. Jack was conflicted; he knew he ought to take care of Dave, given he quite literally just fucked him, but his quilt overtook him. He had done something horrible, and he wanted to run from it. He gathered his clothes, not noticing that he had pulled Dave's shirt specifically over his head. The door fell shut, a barrier between them. They were just as lonely, if not more, as they were before they reconciled in that saferoom less than a week ago.

-

The first thing Jack asked upon waking up was where he was. The second, who he just said that too, given he lay alone in a dank alleyway. He attempted to sit up, immediately met with incredible sickness and a wave of vomit rushing to his throat. It splattered against the pavement, thin and watery slime against harsh pavement. His body ached, and his memory was deliciously blank. He asked himself how he ended up here, his mind only able to recollect fragmented pieces of the evening before. Still, he felt his heart ache with an immense sense of dread and a further heartache.

He remembered the taste of liquor, so enticing that he couldn't stop drinking, couldn't stop drinking his feelings away. His feelings, what were they anyway? Hot flashes of memories rushed towards him, incomprehensible fragments that formed a story that was in no way chronological. Purple flesh, exposed against orange, flushed together. Large palms surveying his torso, touching what he desperately attempted to cover for years. He had done something, and it wasn't good; he could tell.

Upon return to their motel, he found Dave, profoundly asleep on their bed. He had pulled the covers up to his shoulders, but Jack suspected he was naked under them as his clothes lay scattered along the floor. He suppressed the memories that threatened to boil up at the sight, he didn't want to acknowledge them. He couldn't, not when he had near entirely suppressed it all. Because what really was it, when he wasn't even able to recall any of it. Yet, the guilt ate at him, and he knew it would for much longer. Dave sturred when he sat on the edge of their bed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he swallowed back a waterfall worth of barf.

"Is that you, Ja- old sport?"

His voice was so low that Jack had almost missed the slipup, almost missed the saddening tone that accompanied it. He considered not responding, leaving it as it was, running back home. Despite all, his voice croaked to life:

"Yeah."

He lay down, on top of the sheets, and hugged an arm around Dave. With the covers keeping them separated, he lay flush against his back, burying his face in Dave's neck.

"Whatever I did, I'm sorry..."

He whispered against his skin, voice low but earnest. Dave simply hummed, too exhausted from whatever Jack couldn't remember. He inhaled, and much to his dismay, he smelt himself on Dave's skin.

-

-

[6805 words]

Ohhh this is a long one.... That's what she said ehehehehehehhehehehehehe sorry if I made anyone cr y I felt like writing shitty angst ahehehahahahajdjkfksfllgdfjiohgoitfhjmbtf I need to sleep