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Darkness & Light III - basched
basched
basched
Darkness & Light III
Title:  Darkness & Light (3/4)
Characters/Pairings: Becker/Matt
Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort, slash
Rating: NC-17
Words: 5,827
Summary: Matt finally opens up to Becker about his past.
Author's Note: Part three of my Darkness & Light series. Beta'd by fredbassett It's been a while since I posted any of this, I hope people are still interested. Any mistakes are all my own. Do enjoy.

Darkness Darkness II Light Light II

Darkness & Light Darkness & Light II




Now

The first bottle was empty.

Matt looked at it through his blurred vision. He managed to sit upright before falling off the end of the sofa. He landed on his rear with a heavy thud and the whole room began to spin even more than before . He was drunk, more than he had ever been, and the second bottle wasn’t even open.

He grabbed for it and unscrewed the cap.

Matt hadn’t talked to anyone about his past, what he had been like and what he still struggled with today. He had gone through some counselling and psych evaluations when he’d enlisted and when he joined the ARC, but he made up stories and told half-truths to keep them appeased and had somehow passed.  At the time Matt thought it amusing that he had been cleared, declared ‘fit for duty’ but now he wondered how it would have been if he had failed those tests, if he hadn’t been able to find his control and keep his sanity.

He wouldn’t be here, that’s for sure. He would either be locked up or dead and the future would have still become the hell he remembered in his nightmares.  New Dawn wouldn’t have been stopped. Or would it? Would his friends have been able to stop Philip if he hadn’t been there?
             
There were too many what-if’s and what could have beens. Matt had so many regrets he kept to himself and one was how he had treated Becker and how he had been so afraid to open up to him.  Matt Anderson had done some nasty things to people in the past, which haunted him every time he closed his eyes, but Becker’s hurt affected him the most.

After taking several huge gulps from the second bottle of whiskey, Matt realised they had been sitting there for a while, more than an hour, saying nothing and stewing in the fumes of the alcohol they’d consumed. Becker was still looking at him, had been all this time, waiting for answers.

Matt heaved a few painful breaths and handed the bottle in Becker’s general direction.  He had to give some answers, he had to say something, even though every part of him was resisting and telling him that he couldn’t do this.

Then he didn’t think any more… he just spoke the first words that came to his addled head and babbled in a drunken slur.   

“I suppose I was lucky, in a way.”  Matt leaned back and allowed himself to sink down further against the edge of the sofa, so he could stretch his legs. He looked up at the ceiling instead of at Becker and tried to put into words his life before the anomalies. “When I was born, I had lots of different people looking out for me along with my parents.  I had people who loved me and cared for me.  In my time, the larger your group was, the better chances of survival you had. Folks called it hell.  All the time, every second of every day you could hear the screams. If it wasn’t you or anyone else nearby then it was them.  You could… you could hear it, in the distance, above you or in the tunnels with you, day after day you heard them and the storms along with them.  I remember rare moments, drifting off to sleep at those sounds, they felt like lullabies.  

“There was always blood, death and most often the sound of people crying, I remember seeing and hearing their fear and their terror but most of all, I remember being fascinated by it. I was… intrigued by them rather than appalled or scared. 

“My parents, everyone who looked out for me, knew there was something different about me when I turned about three years old… roughly, it was difficult to know what day or month it was when there isn’t really any sun.  You know…” Matt paused to release a little belch, which brought up a foul taste in his mouth. Becker gave him the bottle and he used several shots of the stuff to help get rid of it. “You know the expression ‘being the product of your environment?’  Well I certainly was that.  I did things and said things that weren’t considered normal even for that time. I had this temper that frightened people and I also had this knack of getting me own way. They feared me and often did what I asked, but I never listened to them. I didn’t blame them, I could get… pretty nasty, very angry and what made it worse was that most times I couldn’t keep it under control. I was unpredictable like the creatures and I could be just as vicious. There was darkness in me they said and I know I still have it in me. The rage, the anger is still in me, Becker and not only does it scare others… it scares me.
 
“My sister was the only exception. She was never afraid, she loved me. She somehow kept me in check and I came to realise that I needed her more than anything else. For the sake of others, their safety, I needed to have her with me all the time. ”

“You… you had a sister?”

It wasn’t hard to miss the surprise in Becker’s voice.

Matt nodded.

He really didn’t want to talk about her. He didn’t want to remember, but he couldn’t ever forget her, even boozed up on alcohol.

“Yeah.”  Oh god. “She wasn’t just my sister… she was my twin, born five minutes before me. She was the only person I cared about, the only one who mattered in my life. My parents and everyone else, sure they loved me, they treated me well and protected me, but I felt no connection or bond with them whatsoever. They were just people; people who could help me get my own way and who were there for convenience.  I did anything for my sister, she was the only person who could keep me in line and who I could never say no to.” Matt took some more of the whiskey despite the fact he felt like being sick. He grimaced as he swallowed and the burn of the liquor brought more tears to his eyes. “She was the most beautiful and wonderful thing in the world, Becker. She was the good in that hell. She was my light, y’know? She never let me down and I was… I was good when I was around her. She kept me sane.

“One day I ran away from the shelter and… and I got lost on the surface because I wanted to find a predator. It was crazy! I actually went looking for one, I wanted to kill one for her and it didn’t matter that I might be killed instead. Shit, the possibility that I could die only made it more exciting!

“One tracked me down, it’s easy enough for them, even for one already wounded as it was.  It came right up to me, dragging its broken leg behind it, making them chattering clicking sounds. It sounded pained and the smell of rotten flesh was strong on his breath. I remember the long drawn out sniffs it took as it tried to locate me, it could barely breathe… its mucus snorted and bubbled, dripping from its mouth, it was gross but I stood mere inches away from it and looked up at it in absolute awe. I knew that it could kill me right there and then, but when it slumped down to the ground I could see the other injuries it had, probably from others outing it from their pack. So I did what I had to, not to put it out of its misery, but just to see what it was like.

I had this little knife, sharp as fuck, and I upped it as fast and hard as I could right up through its skull. Don’t know how I managed it, but the sounds it made, the cracking of bone, the spray of blood over my face… it felt like rain on a really humid day, you know? It was refreshing, it was wonderful! I laughed and as it thrashed about I struck it again and again. Its claws got a scratch to my shoulder…” Matt took off the towel and Becker’s eyes looked to the three pale white marks that were just about visible on his shoulder and back. Matt smiled briefly as he remembered the young seventeen year old Becker touching at that scar as they had lain together, fascinated but also scared at what could have caused it. “The pain was beyond agonising, but I carried on. I struck it several times, I ripped that thing up and slashed open its innards and fuck, it felt good. It felt amazing!

“I was eight years old when I killed that thing, Becker. Eight years old!  I should have died! I should have been back in that tunnel crying with the others and hiding with my parents and sister. But I didn’t feel anything like that. I didn’t care that I made everyone in my family worry, I didn’t give a shit that the other predators could have tracked me back to the shelter and killed everyone. I wanted to know what it was like to kill the fucking thing and it felt…. Oh god it felt wonderful. Killing it gave me such a buzz, I couldn’t stop smiling and the euphoria of it all made me feel powerful and great!  At least until Caoimhe…” The name caught in Matt’s throat. He hadn’t mentioned her name out loud in so many years and saying it now felt like his chest was being constricted. He breathed as much as he could before he carried on. “My sister, she was so scared and upset but I didn’t understand why. I told her I killed it for her and that I would kill more for her but she didn’t want that. I really didn’t understand but I did as she asked.  I wanted to kill again, I had this craving to seek them out and I needed to find predators that weren’t invalids or near death. I needed more of challenge.

“We moved to England after my father got news about these diaries from the past, diaries written by this genius who understood the anomalies. They were Connor’s.” Matt smiled briefly as he remembered how at the time everyone had talked about Connor Temple as if he was some kind of wizard or messiah. Matt grinned even further when he recalled meeting Connor for the first time. He didn’t show it, but he had had a bout of hero worship for the guy. “It was much worse there, London having been the focal point for the disaster, so the air was more toxic and water wasn’t as readily available, but it was also the breeding home of the predators and I loved it. We found this community of over twenty people and for a while it was great to be with them. It was easier to sneak out, to hunt, but… one night as we were trying to cross over the surface to get to another network of tunnels… a pack of predators took us all by surprise and my mum and my sister were killed.”

“Matt…”

Matt felt a hand touch at his shoulder, but he shrugged it off. His head was spinning, so he closed his eyes again and tried to get a grip.

He tried to shut out the screams in his head, the same screams that had been silent for ten years but had now come back as he remembered what he had left behind. Hers were the loudest, they always were and now they seemed angry.

Matt banged the side of his head a couple of times with his fist, and found the last scraps of control he had left.

“I… er…” he let out a burst of mirthless laughter. “I didn’t take it well. I suppose you could say I went a little mad when it happened but… that would be a major understatement.  I lost everything that day, Becker. All that was good in my life was ripped apart before my eyes. I saw those creatures tear my sister limb from limb. I watched as they fed on her and drank her blood …”  Tears began to stream down Matt’s face. He didn’t want to look at Becker and see how he was reacting to this, so he turned away and focused on the bottle in his hands. He wanted to drink, but it was shaking in his hands and he couldn’t bring himself to raise it up to his mouth. Instead he held it tightly to his chest. “I lost it. I wanted everything and everyone around me to die.

“I nearly killed my da. I beat him to a pulp in such a fit of rage it that it scared me and so I had to leave, I left him, furious that he hadn’t protected his own daughter, that he hadn’t done something to stop them! Surviving on your own in that place was not easy or something that anyone should have to go through. You had to do things to keep yourself alive and I did. Being alone messed me up even more.  Every day I killed anything and anyone I came across.  I killed to take food and supplies and eventually after a while I killed because people were in my way or I simply wanted to, it was instinct! I had nothing to hold me back, to ground me or control me and I went beyond the need for survival.  I was nothing like I am now… I was never accepted by the others because of the way I was, only my da tried to reach out to me, only he held out some hope that I could be normal.

“Well normal in their terms. I thought what I was doing was normal, that was reality for me.

“I guess that was why I went back to help him, why I decided to help him with the anomalies. At the time I intended to let him go through on his own, I never wanted to come here. I was too much in tune with my world, that place was a part of me. I thrived there, I belonged there. It was the only life and the only way of living that I knew.

“It was so different on this side of the anomaly.  It was alien and I didn’t like different. There was air I could breathe, water that I could drink and bloody swim in! Everything was clean and the sun was so bright, it hurt my eyes. I hated it! I wanted to go back to where it was dark, but Da… he smashed the… thingy… Connor’s device thingy… that opened the anomalies, so when the anomaly closed for good, this was where I had to live.   Oh god, Becker… I hated him so much for trapping us here.  I remember fighting him, beating him and screaming because I was cut off from her. I thought there was no way I could get back to my sister.”

Matt choked back the grief that was beginning to overwhelm him. His eyes stung with tears, intensified by his intoxication and then his body began to shake. He was going to break, he was going to finally snap after all these years; the empty hole in his chest made by his sister was going to cave in.

Matt yelled. He screamed and went to throw the bottle, but a strong firm grip on his wrist prevented him from doing so.

Becker didn’t say anything, he just held on to Matt, his other hand resting on his scarred shoulder until Matt was able to regain control. He never thought he would, recalling Caoimhe, her smile and her laugh… the blood and her screams… but feeling Becker’s hold, seeing the detest and anger change on his face to sympathy, concern and worry, it eased him.

“I was nothing when I came here,” Matt clenched his jaw and looked Becker right in the eye. “I treated my dad and others like shit, I screwed women left right and centre, discarding them as soon as I had gotten satisfaction. I hated the whole world. Then, there was yer da.”

Becker tensed, but his hand still stayed. Matt felt gentle strokes from his thumb and then a light reassuring squeeze from his palm.

Matt swallowed the words a few times before he let them slip from his mouth.  

“It was pure chance that we met, really, but he helped me, Becker. He made it possible for me to control my rage and my grief—to a point—he made it easier for me to sleep at night by channelling that rage. I never told him or anyone that I was from the future, or where I had come from, but he took me under his wing, took me away from my da and recruited me into the army.  After my training, I became something more than just a soldier, my ‘skills’ were honed, so I was the perfect candidate. I don’t think I would have gone anywhere else except to his team. Your da pulled a lot of strings.

“My first assignment.  He gave me the person’s photo and his file and I was told to kill him. I never asked why, I didn’t ask anything. I just went and did it. I killed that bloke just like I had with predators and other people before. I dug my knife up into his skull and….well suffice it to say I ended up doing a lot more than that. Some of them deserved it, others were innocent.  I killed people on your da’s say so. I also cleared up after him. He’d call me and I’d go to him, only to have bodies or things to dispose of.  Sometimes I had to end the lives of people he had been…interrogating. I did things he didn’t want to, or couldn’t be bothered to do.

“It was your friend, your old CO, Weston, who told me that it was all against orders. He tried to preach morality to me, tried to get me to do the right thing, to testify. He had no idea that I really didn’t give a shit. I didn’t care because I had no morals when I was that age. Weston’s investigation into your father’s dealings meant nothing to me, it was nothing anyway because all his so called evidence, everything he and his trusty officers had accumulated was inadmissible, or easily discredited. Your father couldn’t be touched!  I could have helped Weston bring him down but what would happened to me if I did?  Prison wasn’t an option for my liking and that’s where I would have gone, even if I did take one of Weston’s deals. I was comfortable where I was…I was a loner. I did what at the time I thought was best for me, screw anyone else.

“What my own dad was doing, trying to save the future felt absurd, I didn’t want any contact with him either. Back then I would have quite welcomed the disaster. If I was that same man, I would have quite happily let Connor and Philip carry on with New Dawn.  In fact I probably would have helped them.

“I wasn’t happy when your da told me I had to go and fetch you. I was pissed off actually. Why did I have to give a shit about you? Such an assignment I felt was beneath me to be honest, I wasn’t some damned babysitter!  But I have told you before and I will always tell you, he never asked me to kill you, Becker.  He certainly thought it… I could tell in his eyes that he wanted me to.

“I went anyway and…well, you were a surprise. One I never expected and I certainly didn’t expect for what happened to happen.  I was going to go haul you out of that club and take you back, simple as. But once I got your tipsy arse outside and you started babbling your mouth off, bitching about your parents--you really wouldn’t shut up--I found myself enjoying listening to you, instead of wanting to hit you. I couldn’t take you back to him, it was wrong, it felt wrong to make you go back to that shithead. The next thing I knew I was actually talking with you and it felt comfortable, right. I was comfortable and I hadn’t felt like that in years!  I guess I did what I did because I didn’t think. I only did what my instinct told me and I have lived my life on instinct. It… it felt like the right thing to do. I certainly never expected you to kiss me back.”

“Yeah, well…” Becker swallowed a nervous gulp of air. He was shaking too. Hearing Matt’s story had certainly put things into perspective for him and he didn’t like it. “I guess I didn’t think either.”

“But it was….”

“It was good.” The smallest of smiles formed on Becker’s face. “Yeah.”

The morning after they had been together, Matt had woken up before Becker and he had spent over an hour just watching the younger man sleep. Becker had looked peaceful and happy as he snored into the pillow and Matt felt the same. He couldn’t recall the last time in his life that he had felt this good towards someone else. The only other person who had ever meant anything to him was Caoimhe and Matt had been hell bent on no one ever replacing her. While Becker certainly wasn’t his sister, he had become the one person who Matt could connect to and that morning, watching him sleep, Matt knew he would gladly do anything for him. Anything.

Back then, he hadn’t realised how far he would go.

“I’ve done things you really should hate me for,”  Matt said, putting the bottle of whiskey down and turning to Becker, nervously reaching out for him. He thought his chest would explode with joy when Becker grabbed his hand, for the touch was like a weight anchoring him, holding his chaotic emotions in check—to some extent.  “I’ve been someone that, for any normal and sane reason, should have been locked up.  My father’s mission, stopping Prospero and saving the world was never what I wanted but it took that, it took working with you and the others to find out it was what I needed!  I need to be at the ARC, Becker… but I don’t deserve to be. I don’t deserve the friends I have and I am sorry… I don’t deserve you either. I’m so sorry.”

Becker’s hand slipped from his and in the silence that followed, Matt couldn’t quite make out what Becker was thinking. Was he still angry at him? Or was he angry at himself?

God, he wished Becker would say something. Forgive him? No. What Matt had done in his past couldn’t be forgiven, but Matt wished that Becker would give him some kind of response other than silence.

 “I suppose,” Becker’s voice cracked a little, as he had difficulty in finding the words.  “If I had had your life, I might not have been much different.”

“Yeah, I suppose.”

“I should hate you but I can’t blame you. I should feel some kind of resentment or disgust knowing what kind of past you’ve had. I do, I feel sick… there is this complete other side to you that I didn’t know about and it’s… not something I can easily forget. To think that you might have been someone worse than my dad, it’s… I want to hate you for that.”

“You should hate me.”

Becker shook his head. “I hate myself for thinking that my problems and my childhood was the be all and end all. I hate myself for thinking I had it so bad, but compared to what you had, it was nothing.  I can’t even begin to imagine living what you went through,  what you had to endure every single day…so what I did to you… oh shit, Matt… when I…”

“No! Don’t you dare apologise!” Matt grabbed hold of Becker’s hand and at the back of Becker’s neck, dragging him close so their foreheads touched. “After everything your da has done to you, everything he’s ever not…you needed to vent, you had to do something.”

“But that? No! Not that, not ever, not to you.”

The alcohol was seriously taking its toll. Matt was slowly losing grip on any control he had left. His grief was beginning to choke him up.

“Becker…” Matt nervously lifted their heads and kissed Becker gently on the lips. “Believe me, I needed that. I deserved it. You were angry and I had no right to object. I have no right to this life, to the ARC, and our friends.  Weston was correct and I have to be accountable for everything I’ve done. I have to leave.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“I have to leave the ARC. I’ll turn myself in.  Once the others find out, there’s no way I’ll be accepted there.”

“No!  You can’t!

Then it was Becker’s turn to kiss Matt.

Fists clenched sharply in Matt’s hair, nails dug into his scalp as Becker crushed his mouth hard and passionately against Matt’s. In that instant, instinct took over, the towels were quickly discarded, and Matt furiously kissed Becker back and in their drunken stupor, such frantic actions caused them to fall over, Matt crushing Becker beneath him.

Matt couldn’t control himself or the desperate need to keep touching Becker. He had to keep kissing him as if Becker was the very air he needed to breathe.  He had to feel, touch, every part of Becker’s body and he had to hear Becker’s pleading moans and utterances of his name in his ear.  His blood was rushing through his veins, heating his skin and raging him with insatiable want, but the alcohol wasn’t letting the blood reach the one spot he really wanted.

Matt felt wild, he couldn’t ignore how much his body was screaming for this man, but as they crashed against the sofa, shoving it along the floor and making the legs squeal on the wood, Matt was fighting against this feeling. He didn’t deserve anything with Becker anymore, especially sympathy sex.  This wasn’t grief or anger being vented, by either of them, only fear and pleading desperation heightened by the intoxication of whiskey as Matt tore his fingers down Becker’s sides and as he plunged his tongue deep into Becker’s mouth.

Becker’s fists ripped several strands of hair from Matt’s scalp as he began to buck hard and fast against Matt’s body, squashing their limp cocks together. He rocked and gyrated against Matt, hoping to rise them both, to harden them; he whispered ‘sorry’ as it clearly wasn’t happening, Becker begged as they kissed, pleaded for some payback, wanting so badly to get hard and to overcome the effects of the booze. He was hoping that Matt would fuck and hurt him as he had done to Matt.  

But Matt was afraid. He didn’t want to hurt Becker, he could and quite easily, but he didn’t want to. He didn’t want Becker to leave which he knew would happen if he stopped this fumbling entanglement, so he didn’t.  Matt did break away from the kiss. He used the sofa to pull himself up onto his knees. He lifted Becker's legs and latched them around his waist and for a brief moment, Matt closed his eyes and continued to rub and grind himself on Becker’s cock, slowly but deeply.  He could feel the pleasure throbbing and ebbing through his body, his fingers caressed over Becker’s legs with each flutter and heated flush over his skin, it felt good, but still he couldn’t achieve an erection. None of them could. 

Matt slumped down upon Becker’s chest and wrapped his arms tightly around him. For a moment, as they kissed, lazily sucking in their moans and pleas, they lay there with their heads spinning and hazed, groggy and disorientated before Matt let one hand slip down between their writhing bodies. He cupped hold of their balls in turn and squeezed, he massaged them softly at first until the shuddering broken gasps coming from Becker’s mouth made Matt squeeze them harder.  He then he wrapped his fingers around both of their cocks, sliding his palm up and down over the limp muscles before quickening the pace and gripping at them tighter. Still nothing was happening.

There was no ignition from either of them and it was beyond infuriating. Matt wished that he had never brought that bloody whiskey.

“Fuck! Fuck, fuck! Fucking fuck!”

Becker was bucking harder against him, crushing Matt with his grip. His kisses turned to bites against Matt’s lips and jaw, his nails now clawed red marks across Matt’s bare back.  Matt welcomed it, he even bite back too, anything to stimulate their unresponsive dicks. The lack of erection, not being able to be inside Becker right now, was really trying Matt’s patience.  Eventually, as his hand was doing nothing, Matt pulled himself away from Becker and positioned his legs so they draped over his shoulders.  Matt nearly toppled over doing so, but eventually, when he found his balance, when the dizziness stopped, he sunk low, bowed his head, opened his mouth and took Becker’s cock inside.

“Fuck!”  Becker’s legs locked around Matt’s neck and he panted and gasped as Matt began to work his tongue and mouth around his cock. “Matt!”

Matt slavered, it pooled from the sides of his mouth as he bobbed, it spilled over his hand as it tried to help Becker achieve erection and thankfully, slowly but surely, Matt felt the change.  It took a lot of work, he had to gasp for air numerous times, but Becker’s groans finally deepened, his body shook, his legs trembled as Matt gorged himself, sucking, licking and biting to stimulate him more. He held Becker’s hardening dick still as it swelled his mouth and as he continued on, passing the gagging reflex, and Matt tasted the pre-cum hit the back of his throat.

“Oh god! Oh god!”

What about his own?  Matt touched himself, his spit covered hand jerked as hard as it could, but the damned bloody alcohol still wouldn’t let him get aroused. He moaned, nearly choking on Becker, who pushed him away.

Matt was more than dazed for a moment, he coughed and spat, his eyes streamed from his chokes before he was kissed again and forced on his back.  He felt Becker’s hands rubbing over his chest before Matt was swallowed, his own cock sucked up into Becker’s mouth.

He couldn’t help it. As Becker began to work him, Matt thrusted upwards, forcing Becker take him all.  Matt began to sweat, it was too hot, everything was burning up and it was too much.  He still felt conflicted, he heard his voice yelling at him to stop, to put an end to it, but with Becker sucking on him, he couldn’t. He didn’t want this to stop.

All of his past, all the things he had done… what Weston badly wanted him locked away for, meant nothing. Everything was a blur, all around him there was nothing, even the storm raging outside didn’t register. There was only Becker, his lips and tongue on his cock, his moans, the heat and weight of his body.  Becker was all that mattered.

“Oh yes. Oh yes!” 

Matt wasn’t going to last. Not like this.  

“I want to be in you. Please… oh god, Becker… please.”

It took but seconds for Matt to turn the tables again. He had Becker pinned against the floor, legs spread wide and his mouth and fingers prying at his arse, spitting and probing with his fingers and tongue in his hole, stretching him, making Becker pant and stammer out his name in mewling whines.  One finger. Two, three. Matt pushed, loving Becker’s screams and judders, in and out, until he knew they were ready.  Until he couldn’t wait any longer.

“Matt!”

Giving himself some extra strokes, Becker’s own spit and juices coating his shaft, Matt pushed up inside him, quick and hard.  Hearing Becker cry out too loudly made Matt still as he was completely buried within Becker’s arse.  The tensioning clenches of Becker around Matt’s cock made him sag back down onto him. They held each other, quiet and trembling together, kissing softly before Matt began to move.  It was slow at first and he kept slipping out, but when he found the right rhythm, after the stupid awkward positioning and failures, he felt the wildness come back.

As he kept driving into Becker, kept kissing him and wanking him, making such wonderful sounds drool from his mouth, Matt couldn’t help but smile. He couldn’t stop his other hand from lovingly stroking at Becker’s face or stop the feeling of how much he wanted Becker, how much he loved him.

Becker came over Matt’s hand. He gushed instead of spurted, his body convulsed as Matt still moved inside of him, and only when Becker settled down in to light shakes, did Matt bring himself to climax. Matt clung to Becker as he spilled, riding each wave of his orgasm, murmuring  into the crook of Becker’s neck.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,”  Matt muttered. “I’m sorry for everything.”

Becker kissed Matt’s sweating brow whilst wiping Matt’s back.

“It’s okay. We can sort through all this. We can figure it out. It’s going to be all right.”

No. Shit. It really wasn’t.

Reality wasn’t going to let Matt get away with this. It wasn’t even going to allow him to enjoy this moment.

No lies. No stupid boyish dreams, thinking that he might be able to stay with Becker. He had to leave. 

“I can’t stay.” Matt rolled off of Becker and lay on his front, curling up into a foetal position. “I have to go…”

“No! We can speak to Lester, get it so you can stay at the ARC.”

“It won’t do any good.”

“You don’t know until we try.”   Becker’s warm body spooned against Matt’s, his arms wrapped around him like a comforting blanket and in the aftermath of their orgasms, Matt was greatly tempted to drift off to sleep, to possibly have one of the most restful sleeps  he could ever have, but once again his past and nature, the darkness inside him, wasn’t going to let him.

“Becker… I killed your dad.”

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4 comments or Leave a comment
Comments
knitekat From: knitekat Date: June 6th, 2013 07:17 pm (UTC) (Link)
Dark and intense and eek for the last line.
basched From: basched Date: June 8th, 2013 10:18 am (UTC) (Link)

Thanks Kat. :)

Eek indeed! :)
fififolle From: fififolle Date: June 8th, 2013 08:13 pm (UTC) (Link)
Woah my god! SO dark and angsty and intense! EEP!!! *claps dazedly*
basched From: basched Date: June 9th, 2013 10:14 am (UTC) (Link)

Thank you, Fi.

This went very angsty and dark, a lot more than I originally planned. But it's all good. I hope to do one more chapter and finish it off...not quite sure how it will end yet! ;)
4 comments or Leave a comment