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Sean had always been a bright light in Marion’s life, but with an ever shifting quality. Sometimes he was the warm glow through the windows of home long lost to childhood. Sometimes he was a campfire, the only source of comfort in the middle of a long dark night. Rarely (though not as rarely as Marion would like to pretend) he was the remains of an explosion, slowly burning the world around him to ash.
Tonight, the light took on the quality of electricity; novel and intriguing and just this side of dangerous.
“What’s got you in such a good mood?”
Sean grinned at him and held up his glass in greeting, the gesture balanced between standing out and blending in with the crowd. “Marion! Sit your ass down and have a drink. On me!”
“Doesn’t answer my question.” He took the offered seat and returned the grin. “But I’ll take that drink. Are we celebrating?”
“We’re always celebrating!”
A straight up lie, which Marion let slide. Seeing Sean this carefree and bright was a treat he’d hate to ruin. They were never truly distant from each other, not after the years they’d shared, not after everything, but there were bad days and good days.
On the bad days, Sean felt numb even when sitting close, even when laughing. Marion couldn’t blame him. He had his own bad days. But it did drive him to hold on to the good ones with tight fists.
One arm slung over Sean’s shoulders, mindful of their shared aches and pains, Marion waved for the barman’s attention. Their thighs pressed together despite there being plenty of room between their bar stools.
“Going to need a clue to figure out if there’s anything specific we're toasting.”
Sean’s glass stopped halfway to his mouth. The grin twisted, took on a dark edge. “One General William Clyburn had a really shitty night over in Red Lamp. Lost a lot of money from what I heard."
A sudden chill crashed into the warmth at the pit of Marion’s stomach. Oh no.
“You didn’t.”
“Fuck you, of course I didn’t!” Sean stopped pressing their legs together, ducked low under Marion’s arm. So much for not ruining the good mood. “How stupid do you think I am?”
“Pretty stupid.” No point in pulling punches now. Relighting the fire in whatever way necessary would be far preferable to it growing cold. “Good thing you’re handsome, ‘cause your brains aren’t anything to write home about.”
Sean downed the rest of his drink. He pushed his thigh against Marion’s again, this time with more force. “Careful now. You can’t just say stuff like that to a fella and not cause him to get certain ideas in his head.”
“Maybe I like it when you get ideas.”
“You do, do you?”
“Well, the ones that don’t involve me getting a faceful of grenade shrapnel.”
“You rather me and LT get flattened by a train?”
An image, stark enough to be a premonition, flashed before Marion’s eyes. The lieutenant and Sean, seconds before being crushed under an oncoming train engine, teeth gritted, bracing.
Strange how you could get used to the most terrible of things.
“I’d like to see you flattened by something,” he said, not really thinking, grasping for a distraction for them both.
Sean scoffed. “By you and whose army?”
Marion downed his own drink before answering. It burned its way down his throat, stoking the warmth at his center. Sean's thigh against his threw extra fuel on that fire.
“Don’t underestimate me. I’ve got some tricks up my sleeve.” He squeezed Sean’s shoulder, then let his hand travel downward, briefly along the uninjured arm, then went for the waist. He stole a touch under Sean’s shirt, brushing against skin. “Just no grenades.”
Sean retaliated by leaning close and speaking right into Marion’s ear. “You've got me all riled up, soldier. Better take responsibility.”
“It has been said that I’m the responsible one.”
“Lies and slander!"
They jostled each other the whole way back to the chapter house, overgrown boys playing a rough game of tag.
They didn’t do this often. Not where others could stumble upon them by accident. But fresh off an assignment and with no one else there to witness them, finding a room with a bed in this shared space held an irresistible thrill.
“Besides,” Sean said with a playful glint in his eyes, “your handy little future glimpses will give us a heads-up if LT or Doc comes stumbling by, right?”
Thankfully there was no risk of Auntie Bee coming by at this hour. Not without an emergency call. She had more sense than that.
“But maybe you wouldn’t mind that?” Sean walked backwards toward the bed, pulling Marion with him by his waistcoat's lapels. “If the fine doctor came by and sneaked a peak, hmm? Or maybe you’d like it to be LT? No, I know that look. Doc, one hundred percent.”
Heat rose back up Marion’s throat, burning his face. He shut Sean up with a less than graceful kiss and pushed.
They tumbled to the bed, arms and legs tangled, the kiss gaining teeth. Marion got to work on Sean’s shirt while ignoring his suspenders. Sean’s hands found their way to Marion’s pants, unclasped his belt and grabbed hold of his ass, each cheek clasped tight enough to bruise. They pushed moans out of each other, the tension between them rising and rising.
When Marion came up for air, movement ahead of him caught his eye, right opposite the foot of the bed.
There was a mirror on the wall.
Of course there was. They’d put them up as soon as they had the chance. To keep the chapter house safe - or as safe as it ever could be.
He hadn’t been prepared for what he’d look like, like this. How the unearthly blue glow of the spreading scar tissue would light up his face. How it’d make his eyes black holes in a human face. How-
The world around him whirled sideways.
“Hey now,” Sean scolded, straddling Marion’s hips. “Don’t tell me you got lost in your own soulful eyes or some bullshit like that. Weren’t you supposed to lay me flat, huh?”
“Guess I forgot to bring an army.” The glow of the scar faded, covered by Sean’s hands. The scrape of fabric against Marion’s bare cock chased away the last traces of his reflection. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”
“Says the man still wearing a shirt. I think your mouth could be doing better things than all this backtalk.”
“I don’t-”
Sean cut him off by grabbing his hair and roughly maneuvering him halfway upright. Before he knew it, Marion found himself with his back against the wall the bed had been lined up against, mirror nothing more than a shadow in his peripheral vision, mouth stretched around Sean’s cock. He gagged, forced his throat to relax around the invasion, eyes blurring with tears.
“Fuck, you feel so good around my dick. Think you can take it deeper?”
A muffled noise of protest escaped Marion. Even he wasn’t sure if he protested the suggestion of going deeper or the idea that he couldn’t take more.
“Attaboy.” That grin again, wide, with the hint of sharp edges. “I’m not gonna hold back, so you better hold on. Got it?”
Marion grabbed where his hands found purchase, one on Sean’s hip, the other at the back of his knee. His thumb brushed against something small and hard as glass in Sean’s pocket before he lost all awareness except for the lack of air and pressure in his mouth, in his throat.
He squeezed his eyes shut. He tasted salt and heat.
When he fully got back to himself, Sean’s fingers in his hair were much gentler. His jaw ached.
“One of the finest cocksuckers in Newfaire you are.” Voice playful and sated. “If there ever was a competition, I’d bet all my money on you, then split the winnings. We’d be set for life.”
Marion caught his breath, traced the glass vial in Sean’s pocket. He leaned forward and gave a distracting lick to the sensitive, spent cock just within his reach, and picked the pocket.
Fingers tightened in his hair. “Careful there.”
“I was just about to give you the same advice.”
Still wound tight as a wire it took little effort to gain the upper hand. Sean put up a token fight but his arms and legs betrayed him, lax from pleasure reached while Marion still had his to chase. Before long, he was face down on the bed, Marion’s thigh between his legs, wrists held together at the small of his back.
“My turn.” Marion eased the suspenders down Sean’s shoulders, telegraphing his intentions. “Wearing these to bed isn’t the smartest of moves if you want to keep your hands free.”
“You know me. I like living on the edge.”
Marion made sure to tie a knot he knew Sean could get out of quick. As much fun as this was, there was a border between play-pretend and actual force he had no wish to cross.
He uncorked the glass vial and let the oil spill out over his fingers.
Unlike Sean, Marion took his time. He opened Sean up slow, finding all the spots that made the other man whimper and bite back please. Once satisfied he’d driven Sean close enough to another edge, he settled in for a good, long, deep fuck.
They weren’t in any kind of rush tonight.
“Marion, you’re killing me.”
“Not if you can still mouth off.”
“Damn you, please!”
Pausing to turn Sean onto his back took a great deal of effort and self-control, but it was worth it. Folded in half, legs over Marion’s shoulders, he all but melted, taking and taking and taking. He let out soft noises caught between moans and words, eyes shut, mouth slack. The electricity of him still sparked, but it shifted toward that campfire glow, that feeling of safety and peace, however brief.
Marion stole another kiss just before he came.
Of course, he couldn’t leave Sean to pine for too long. This time, he only mouthed the tip of Sean’s cock, working the rest of the shaft with his hand.
“Are my brains leaking out of my ears?” Sean asked as Marion licked the last drops of come from his cock. “’Cause it sure feels like it. Two blowjobs in one night. You spoil me!”
“I like spoiling the people I love.” Said playfully, lightly. Nothing serious or too heavy could be allowed to touch moments like these. It would weigh them down. Change them.
They went to another room to sleep, stained sheets carefully gathered up and carried with them, to be washed later at Marion’s place. They picked a room without a mirror. Out of old habit, they settled down back to back.
Tomorrow one of them will wake up alone. But that’s tomorrow.
For now, they slept.