The sounds that were coming from Thomas he was whimpering, whining, moaning, and gasping. There was nothing he enjoyed more than being used like this by Leo, and right now his senses were being assaulted from every side; he was being groped, jerked, kissed, stripped, and thrusted onto. He nodded at the command, ever loyal and ever obedient. He gripped the tank top and ripped down the middle, pulling its shredded remains from Leo's body, before pulling off his socks and belt. Undoing Leo's pants, he pulled them down his legs, helping him step out of them before he spun Leo around and bent him over the couch, hand squeezing his bottom through his boxers. Before sliding them down as if unveiling a grand monument.
"I think we should start a cult around this." He slid his hand along his bottom before he brazenly swiped his tongue up his left cheek. Letting go of Leo, he motioned to his own pants. "You wanna help with these or am I really going to have to do all the work, princess?"
Leo rolled his head back, growling as Thomas rent the shirt from his form. It only took a moment, though, before he was back, crashing his lips into Thomas'. But then Thomas was taking control - he found himself bent over and could only shudder in pleasure as he felt Thomas' tongue lance up his body.
He turned and sat on the couch, reaching his arms across the back and letting his legs naturally spread. His cock stood full, a ready call for his husband. This was an unusual reversal; typically Thomas was the naked one, ready for Leo at the drop of a hat. But there was something so hot about this reveal, about this moment. How badly he wanted Thomas, how crazy he was. But he forced calmness into his body, tilting his head to one side.
"Oh, no," he growled. "You're gonna do all the work. And you're gonna do it slowly."
Thomas had started to stir in the night, a weird feeling like he was being called to, summoned even to the church. He'd never been allowed to go there as a kid, and he had never really any desire to go there except when he'd wanted to bust in there and rescue Leo from them. Half asleep, he reached over to pull Leo into him, wanting to push his nose into his hair, to take in his warmth, his scent, to know that he was safe, only to realize that his husband's spot in their bed was empty. Eyes shooting open, he looked around the entire apartment, calling out to Leo. The only response he got was from their dog and cat, confusion over why they were being woken up before it was time to eat. Grabbing a t-shirt that was lying next to the wicker basket, he pulled it on, along with a pair of boxer shorts, his boots, and Leo's coat
Chasing towards the church, he was frantic, worried about his husband, the calling he had heard the rune he had been shown, those meant nothing to him now. He just needed to get to Leo. By the time he got there, it was deserted, no signs of anyone.....fuck...maybe he had been wrong, maybe it wasn't them doing something to Leo....but then he felt the calling...the urge to add the rune to others. Shaking his head, he snapped out of it, grumbling under his breath, "Fuck off, I gotta got find my husband, veiled bitch."
Heading back towards the inn, he saw Leo going inside, he seemed frantic, and worried going up the stairs. Chasing back after him he made it inside, and quickly found him crying, and shaking and calling his name, throwing off the coat he quickly threw himself into Leo, wrapping his arms around him.
"Shhh, shhh, I'm right here. It's ok, you're safe, you're safe, they can't get you. I'm here." He was rubbing his back and kissing the top of his head. "I'm here, my love."
Breath in, breath out. Breath in, breath out. Leo tried his best to focus on just that, but no air seemed to get past the ice in his chest. It was painful, a muscular effort to scratch oxygen into his lungs. What little bits of air he could muster immediately were choked out in short, Tom shaped syllables.
Leo managed to look up only a half moment before Thomas launched himself forward. But that moment felt like an eon. There he was. Thomas was here. Through the haze of tears, it was as if a halo shone behind him. Leo didn't even have time to extend his arms before the comforting weight of his husband was on him. As if his throat was a breached dam, air flooded into his lungs, causing a low, guttural wail to rumble out from his body. He pressed his face into Thomas' chest, hands clawing at the fabric of his shirt.
"She was here - Thomas - she was -- she took you she --" Words with little meaning fell out of his mouth, jumbled around the sobs wracking his body. Thomas' presence felt like a lie, despite the warmth that enveloped him. He pressed his face further into his husband's form, tears and snot and spit staining the tee shirt as his hands grappled to wrap around his waist and pull him in.
"You're here?" he said, voice shuddering and unsteady. "You're here? Now? Please -- please be here, god Thomas, please be here..."
A clear glade. Flowers, pushing up from the grass. The trees.
And then She was there. She was there. She knew him. She reached for him. She rooted into the ground and her hand extended towards him and towards him and the ground turned to ash and Her hand drew closer and he tried to turn to run but the grass had woven over his toes and was pulling, pulling, pulling, pulling, and Her hand was there and Her hand was close and he could see it wrap around his throat and he -
The gasp of air rushing into his lungs lifted Leo from dead asleep to awake and heaving. His shirt was drenched in an icy cold sweat. His head was spinning even as he pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes, trying to rid them of the horrible sight. He needed - he needed out he needed water he needed -
He lifted his hands to look to his side. Thomas, sleeping peacefully, the visible tell of his shoulders rising and falling with measured breaths. A heave of breath fell into a small, airy laugh. It was a dream. It had all been a dream. Leo took a breath, then another, trying to sync his rhythm with his husband's, but his racing heart wouldn't stop. With a sigh, he gently stepped one leg then the other out of the bed and stood carefully, trying his best to avoid the telltale squeaky floorboard on his side of the bed.
Padding softly towards his bureau, Leo pulled the damp t-shirt over his head and tossed it at (but unfortunately, not in) a wicker basket of laundry. He eased open the drawer and pulled out a sweatshirt, not bothering to check whose it technically was. It was dark, it was cozy, and so Leo slipped it over his head. He cracked the door open and slid out as silently as he could.
He found his way into a pair of sneakers and left out the front door, taking time to re-lock all the locks after him. The kitchen of the inn granted him the glass of water he so craved, and then the cold bite of the air granted reprieve from the gathering headache behind his eyes. His body found its way into a half hearted jog - the promise of a familiar exercise calling to his muscles and mind.
Leo closed his eyes as he ran - his feet knew these paths well. With each footfall, the memory of that horrid nightmare faded just a bit. Perhaps his heart was finally starting to settle, keeping pace with his feet.
He shouldn't have trusted them.
They brought him directly into Her clutches. His feet, compelled, possessed, inspired, brought him directly to the church. He should have known. He should have felt. He should have seen. But no, no, no. His feet brought him back to Her.
When his vision returned, when Leo finally could see through his own eyes again, he was stood outside the very place he should never have been. As soon as his eyes returned to himself, his breath left him. His chest seized and his knees buckled. Why? Why here? Why now? Why?
The world was spinning again as he collapsed. His knees hit the ground and he clutched at his chest. No - it couldn't be here. He couldn't be here. Memories on memories flooded back, tearing at his mind as his breath poured out of his lungs and into the soil below. It sucked greedily, pulling the air from his body and refusing to give it back.
He craned his head up, hoping against hope to see a reprieve. Instead the building loomed large, red streaks of blood twisted in ritualistic swirls on its siding. She was back, pressing a figure into his mind. Give it, She said. Offer it to them, Courage.
Shallow and harsh, breaths fell in and out in escalating rate to his throat. No, he pushed back. You can't be here. You can't have me.
Oh, Courage... She hissed back. You are mine. You will always be --
His feet found traction. He pushed. He tripped and stumbled, his shoulder crashing into the gravel. No. No. He could. He could get out. He had to. He would. Hands found ground and pushed, giving his body the momentum it needed.
COURAGE! She screamed, pinned to the flecked paint. RELEASE ME, COURAGE!
Her voice fell quieter as he ran. His face burned, the cold air biting into the tear stains on his cheeks. The sun was up, blinding into his eyes. How long had he been there? How long had he writhed on the ground?
It took too long to get back to their house. The inn, its comforting door, the stairs. He tripped on the first one and pulled himself, hand over hand, up the staircase back into their home.
"Tom...?" he tried to call out, but his voice hardly connected. It caught in his throat and choked out in a mangled yell. "Thomas, are you --" His breath collided with his words and tumbled out in a heaved sob. Then another, then another. His hands barely got through the locks, shaking violently. Then he was in. He fell forward onto the floor, pulling himself towards the bedroom.
He was crying, he was keening, he was was shaking. All he knew was Thomas would be there, on the other side. Still in bed. Measured breaths. He pulled himself to his feet, stumbling forward into the bedroom. "Tom - Tom please -"
The bed was empty. The sheets were thrown askew. Thomas was gone.
Leo's legs gave way again and he sank to the floor, wrapping his head in his arms. A frigid finger dug itself into his sternum, filling his lungs with solid ice. No air, just solid ice. Thomas was gone. She had taken him.
When Leo had that smile on his face, god, his knees nearly gave out. He was so effortlessly attractive, and then his husband was sliding his hand into his back pocket and speaking to him in that tone. He was Leo's plaything, his chew toy, his doll to dress or undress as he pleased.....and boy did he enjoy that role. They were married, equals, but......hell did Thomas love the idea of being Leo's.
He let his husband move his head, his body as he pleased, feeling as his neck was exposed and his husband started sucking on it. He was whimpering, and then he felt Leo's hand undoing his belt, pushing him against the door, and licking at the marks he had already started to place on his neck.
Leo's hot breath on his skin when he told him that he had been waiting all day for this, Thomas felt like a lamb, and Leo the wolf that had been stalking, waiting, and finally had its prey. And he wanted to be said prey, obviously hard in his jeans, he batted his eyelashes at Leo, looking up at him, delicately, innocently as if he had no clue what Leo was planning, what he had been teasing.
"Waiting all day for what? I don't know what you mean, Leo." As he spoke, Thomas let his bottom lip linger open just a few seconds too long, enticing, teasing. "Did you have to wait so long, you're going to have to be rough? Commanding? Remind me of your dominance?"
Gods, he was gorgeous. Leo almost lost himself, looking at Thomas. So pliant, so giving. So his. Leo watched every word that came out of his mouth, unable to pull his eyes away from those lips - and Thomas knew it. How beautifully annoying -- Leo had never felt this seen, this respected, this loved. His hand slid from the door to the back of Thomas' head, where his fingers enmeshed with his thick, gorgeous hair. With a slight yank, he pulled down to expose that gorgeous mouth a little more.
"Well, you are, aren't you?" It wasn't a question, but a statement masked in prayer. "Mine." With a nearly religious slowness, Leo leaned forward and took that beautiful lip between his teeth. At the same time, his fingers flicked open the button and slid down into Thomas' pants. The bite turned into a kiss, his tongue plunging deep into Thomas' mouth, and his hand stroked the second favorite part of his husband - but only once.
Still locked in a kiss, Leo's hands flew into a flurry, tearing open Thomas' shirt. A button popped, but it didn't matter. He needed the man's skin under his fingers. When enough had opened, he broke the kiss and grabbed Thomas by the shoulder, roughly spinning him so that he could rip the shirt from his form in one motion. It only took a moment before he threw himself on top of Thomas, kissing the back of his neck, his shoulders, his spine, as his hips crashed against Thomas' backside.
Leo was hungry for him. His hand found Thomas' neck again, pulling back to try to get at his face. He kissed his jaw, his ear, anything that his lips could find. His other hand fumbled with his own belt, notably more clumsy than he had been with Thomas. A soft moan escaped his lips as he pressed into Thomas' form.
Leo was a toucher, he knew this, that his husband always had craved physical affection. It was what had helped endear Thomas to him. The constant hand holding, the brushing of their arms when they moved past each other, now that they were married, Leo never had to hide it, or come up with an excuse to do it....he just always touched when he wanted....and Thomas ate it up every time. The only person he wanted to be wanted by, wanted him, and did very little to hide that want.
He could feel his hands moving over him, his back, his shoulder blades, his collarbone, his jaw. "Danger is a bad thing. I'd much rather be safe and sound, here with you." When Leo finally leaned in to kiss him, though, Thomas melted, melted into his touch, his grip. It felt as though his whole body was going limp in Leo's grip, as if they could phase into one person. It was now Thomas' turn to let his hands wander, moving up and down Leo's back, feeling each muscle beneath his shirt.
Pulling out of the kiss, he chuckled, nuzzling his nose against Leo's cheek. "Big talk, Leo, why don't you prove just how much more you love me than? Hmmm, you may talk the talk, Leo Rafferty, but can you back that up with the walk?" As he spoke, Thomas played with the buttons on Leo's undone overshirt. He wanted to goad him into getting Leo to do the work...."I think I need to see just how roughly you can walk that walk."
This was what he craved - as Thomas melted into him, Leo took up the mantle and pulled him close for support. Thomas' weight pressed against his body, and Leo smiled into his kiss. But as he went to push deeper into it, Thomas pulled his face away, once again denying him. A hungry growl bubbled up in his throat as his eyes fluttered open and his hips pressed forward.
His breath shuddered in his chest, a wolfish smile clawing its way onto his face as his husband spoke. "Oh, Thomas Baker," he chuckled. The hand that had found its way to the small of Thomas' back flexed and crept downward, lodging itself firmly in the back pocket of his jeans. "Is that how you want to play it?"
His other hand, previously thumbing Thomas' cheek, spread out, tracing the underside of his jaw until he could turn Thomas' head at will. With the smallest flick of his wrist, he exposed Thomas' neck and dove in, sucking at the other's throat. He pushed forward and pivoted, taking the opportunity to move his hand to Thomas' belt before spinning and pushing him against the door, which rattled at the sudden slam. Two practiced motions later had the man's belt undone, and Leo's hand hovered conspiratorially over the button of his pants.
Leo ran his tongue over the redness already developing on Thomas' neck before pulling away. He pressed his hand against the door over Thomas' shoulder, hovering his face just barely in front of his husband's. His chest heaved with each breath, pressing against the other's. "I've been waiting all day for this," he said, with fingers threatening the waistline of Thomas' jeans.
He shook his head, pouting playfully when Leo said that his day was hardly worth commenting on. "Your day is always worth listening to, no matter how cowish the cows acted. Nothing you tell me about will ever be boring, Leo Rafferty." He felt the hand looping into his belt and tugging him closer, feeling his body press up against Leo's, and he giggled as if it was the first time his husband was holding him again.
"You be careful now, you're playing a dangerous game holding me like that, while we're all alone like this." Smiling, he moved his head to press a kiss to Leo's jaw before chuckling. "You'll always get to me at the end of the day, no matter what. I wouldn't not let you, even if you tried." Humming quietly as he layed his head against his husband, just wanting to feel him in his arms for a few minutes. "I love you more than anything, you know that?"
Leo could hardly hear the words Thomas was saying with how dazzled he was just looking at the man. His mouth fell slightly open as Leo Rafferty rolled off Thomas' tongue. Leo's eyes flicked across Thomas' face, unable to stop at any one place for too long before they were distracted by some other point of beauty.
His hands instinctively wandered as Thomas pulled against his body. His fingers explored the small of his back, the curve of his spine, the hem of his shirt. They pressed, pulled, and kneaded any part of Thomas they could find. He ducked his head slightly as Thomas kissed him, pushing his cheek into the other's touch. As Thomas leaned in, Leo returned the gesture, pressing his lips against his cheekbone.
"You say danger like it's a bad thing," he whispered into Thomas' ear, then grabbed his sides with a jump. He laughed as Thomas laid into him, allowing his arms to wrap fully around his husband and pull him in tight. His fingers traced the arc of his shoulder blades, poking and prodding like small explorers on a distant landscape.
"Impossible," he said, resettling his head so he was cheek to cheek with Thomas. One hand slid over Thomas' shoulder, across his collarbone, and settled on the side of his face, where Leo gently thumbed his jaw. "Because I love you more than that." He gently pulled Thomas' face away so he could look at his husband properly, with his other arm resolutely and tightly wound around his waist. But the spell couldn't be held any longer: he couldn't stop his hand from pulling Thomas in to kiss him.
"I trust your judgment in picking out the perfect ones. Not getting. me to help you repay your debts for you." He smirked, enjoying the playful teasing between them. "Though it would be fun to go with you just to watch you have to pick them." He did have to roll his eyes playfully when Leo said that they could afford a free show every now and then. He was glad that Leo quickly picked up what he was throwing down to Hank, not that the old-timer didn't know what was actually going on, he just either wanted that drink, or was too into his current drink to bust their rouse.
Thomas was already halfway out the door when Leo told him that he was right behind him. Heading up the outdoor staircase that led to their private apartment on the highest floors of the Inn. He pulled off his boots outside their door as he started going through the process of getting their locks undone. Handing moving up to rub Leo's cheek.
"Shoes off, I don't wanna have to sweep up after you again." He moved to run his hands through his hair as the final lock undid with a click, pushing the door open. "I wanna hear all about your day before you got to me. Wanna hear about the local hero saving all the animals."
With the need for public-facing courtesy falling behind him with every step, Leo busied himself with unbuttoning his shirt as he climbed the stairs. The flannel fell open to reveal the tight undershirt he wore underneath, and he breathed a sigh of free relief as the evening air breezed by. He grumbled slightly as Thomas commented on his habit of wearing his boots into the home, but all of it melted away as he touched his face. A contented smile fell onto his lips as he pressed his face into Thomas' touch, and he obediently stooped to unlace his shoes.
"Day was hardly worth commenting on," he replied with a small grumble. "Cows are gonna be cows, no matter the day." He ran a hand through his hair impatiently. Mercifully, Thomas swung the door open. Leo stepped through the doorway close behind him. With one hand, he pulled the door shut behind them, and with the other, looped a finger into Thomas' belt loop.
"The important part," he said, tugging Thomas towards him, "is that I got to you, finally."
Thomas hummed for a few seconds, "You could pay it by going down to the shore and getting me some of those nice, really big shells. I was thinking of making picture frames for them to hang around the hearth. You know, let some of the patrons draw up some art for us. it would look nice and make things feel even homier." He tutted when Leo said to let them watch or kick them out. "Leo Rafferty, to think you were once so shy and modest, now you wanna put on a show for half the town." He grinned. "Besides, you let them have a free show? I know you're planning on at least charging."
He went to collect his glass to clean it, watching as his husband started to help clean, and when he saw how he flipped the chair....well Thomas Baker almost melted onto the floor right there. They'd been together for a long time now, and yet he still managed to leave him breathless by doing the most mundane things and looking the furthest from mundane while doing them. He was snapped back into the moment by his husband's voice asking about Eden. "She did, but. I don't think there were any eggs. We did talk about chicks, though."
He watched as Leo finished wiping down the counter before moving out from behind the bar, grabbing the keys and tossing them to a patron who'd been coming since his parents first built this place. "Hey Hank, you mind locking the door and shutting off the lights on your way out? Leo and I have some bookkeeping to do upstairs that I forgot about. You can have another drink on the house as a thank you." When he got a grumbled, yeah, he grinned at Leo.
"Well, are ya coming? You're the one who insisted on getting this bookkeeping done."
Leo narrowed his eyes at Thomas' demand, but a small smirk still managed to creep through. "Might need you there to help pick out the perfect ones," he retorted. After all, a nice beach day might be just what everyone needed, even if the air outside was still a touch cold for most people's likings. The confirmation that Eden came by was good enough for him; at least she had swung by.
He chuckled at Thomas' comments. "I don't think the business is doing that bad," he said, his voice hushed in false conspiracy. "We can afford a free show or two every now and then, I think." He slid his hand across the bar towards Thomas, only to be denied yet again as the other man rounded the bar.
His eyes followed carefully, though, as Thomas tossed the keys to good ol' Hank, and found their way back to Thomas's face. His own jaw fell slightly open in amusement before he sucked in his lip to gently bite down on it. "Oh yeah," he said, half to Hank and half to Thomas. "The books. Business is down, after all." His eyes sparkled as he slowly stepped towards his husband. He beckoned for Thomas to lead the way.
"Trust me," he said, head cocked slightly to one side. "I'm right behind you."
"He'll turn into a ghost if you keep him indoors." Eden joked, nodding along. "I don't understand that, but I definitely see it. Maybe we'll catch something later, but probably not." She wasn't the type, really, to get sick. Or at least not the type to complain about it. But she supposed it would likely happen, and she’d continue her work outside about it.
“I’m glad he’s well, though.” Eden clarified. Or. Well enough.
"I keep telling him the same thing," Leo chuckled. "But I suppose it's easy enough for me, with all the calls I'm out on. I'm always in the sun." He tilted his head slightly. "And the rain, and the snow."
Leo nodded. "And yours as well. I'll look for those eggs tonight, if there's any left." He smiled again at Eden, who he had grown protective of over the years. "Or, I guess, I hope not. Hopefully you sell out. Still come by, though, if you do. Thomas'll make those meals either way."
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