#;lachlan

[rivsmusesarchive]

“You’ll always be safe with me.” -Ed<3

@waveofthehand 

          “Is that right?” Lachlan says quietly; he blinks his eyes a couple of times because he’s on the verge of falling asleep. He’s lost track of whatever was on the TV, some kind of a World War II documentary that he’s put on but didn’t really care for. He was tired so he laid down, head in Ed’s lap — he couldn’t bring himself to care about the fact that maybe he shouldn’t be doing that; being so close, acting like this — so intimate. He still doesn’t really know where they stand. But Lachlan doesn’t care. Not right now. 

         “Hope that doesn’t mean you’re taking another bullet for me,” he adds; he lifts his hand and puts it in front of his face, on Ed’s knee. He takes a deep breath and the exhales, eyes closing for a long moment. When he opens them back up he tries to focus on the screen but it doesn’t really work. “I mean it.”

[rivsmusesarchive]

starter for @tewwor bc ur r00de

        He’s hurt — mildly, but still hurt. Lachlan’s ribs are a mix of yellow and purple  from the fall he took and there’s small cuts and scratches on the left side of his face, from another fall where his head hit the ground. Everything’s been looked at and patched up and Lachlan was sent home with a number of pills in his system to numb the pain in his middle.

         He slips into the bedroom quietly, taking his clothes off with making as little noise as possible. With bare feet padding on the floor, he walks over to the bed and slips under the covers. The part of his brain that told him to keep really quiet when walking in is now telling him to just lay down, close his eyes and try to fall asleep but then there’s the other half of his brain that’s telling his body it’s starved for touch, the one that seems to be winning. So Lachlan turns himself to lay on his side, gritting his teeth and breathing heavily as he does, shifting his body to lay close to Dan, as close as he can get without making it even more obvious that he’s hurt. Lachlan puts an arm around the other’s middle and leans his forehead against the back of Dan’s neck, eyes closed and trying to bring his breathing down to normal. 

[rivsmusesarchive]

WH ONO PS

Send 🚿 or ‘Whoops!’ to walk in on my muse in the shower! // @tewwor​

         The bathroom is steaming; the water burns his skin but it’s the only way for Lachlan to feel like he’s washed the day off completely. There was blood running down the drain with the water, both his own and somebody else’s but at this point it’s history as he stands under the stream. The shallow wounds and cuts on his arms and chest sting a little as the water hits them but he feels used to it now, gritting his teeth through it all and trying to let his body relax. 

        He doesn’t hear the door opening but he can hear the shuffling outside the shower. At first Lachlan tenses but then he realizes who’s on the other side and lets himself focus on the hot water again. When Dan gets in the shower with him he doesn’t turn around or look at him. He leans further into the stream and closes his eyes.

         “I’m still mad at you,” he mutters, just loud enough to have Dan hear him over the shower running. Lachlan opens his eyes and turns around to face the other man. He’s still mad but it doesn’t stop him from reaching out for Dan, pulling the other’s body closer to himself. “So you’d better find a way to make it up to me.”

[rivsmusesarchive]

cont. [ x ] / @renegaderoots

          “You need to stop saying that,” Lachlan mutters; he’s not sure when the plan to kill Eoín got ignored but now the idea of anyone hurting him in any shape or form makes Lachlan’s skin crawl. The thought of once being supposed to eliminate him is something that he does’t like to think about -- whenever it pops up, he makes sure that it’s a distant memory as soon as possible. 

         He walks over and slides down to sit right next to Eoín, mimicking the other’s position, his own legs pulled up to his chest as he throws his head back and sighs heavily. “Doesn’t have to be like that,” he says as he turns his head to the side to look at the other; he always says that -- that things can be different but it seems like Eoín never believes him, no matter how much Lachlan tries to prove it. “You’re not trouble to me.”

[rivsmusesarchive]

continued // @yenrps

Through half-closed eyes, Lachlan watches Eoin’s body moving in the darkness, bits of the room illuminated by the rays of the streetlights coming in through the gaps in the curtains; when the other comes close again, Lachlan feels more awake, blinking the last bits of tiredness away. His eyes only close when he feels the touch on his head and there’s a raspy hum deep in his throat. He welcomes the kiss with just as much satisfaction.

“Yeah, but I’m a light sleeper anyway,” he says; it comes out horse, his throat not yet ready to speak without fault. He reaches out and puts his hand on Eoin’s back, the palm softly going up and down the length of his spine; he lays on his side now, one arm folded under his head as he stares at the other’s face. There’s a pause in the moment where Lachlan decides whether he wants to say anything else. He does.

“Don’t go,” he mutters; he moves his hand from Eoin’s back to his arm, sliding it down and holding at his wrist, gently. “Stay.”

[rivsmusesarchive]

continued // @yenrps

        The gun is just an accessory at this point, something he doesn’t leave the house without; he holsters it to his side without paying any mind to it, just like people do with their phones and their wallets; he wasn’t thinking that he’d have to be pulling it out for Eoin when he picked it up from his desk drawer just couple hours before. His hand doesn’t tremble; it stopped years ago but the hand that’s empty by his side is balled up, his jaw clenched, eyes piercing through the other’s body. 

        And then his arm falls and the weapon is down; his eyes trail down as Lachlan grinds his teeth and takes deep breaths; this is all so wrong, he thinks. In that moment he wishes he’s never said yes to that stupid offer Eoin did when they met; that he hasn’t agreed to go with him; he wishes he’d never met him at all -- the job would be so much easier then, wouldn’t it be; target out and be done with it. Lachlan is cursing him for getting involved, for ignoring all the warning signs and suspicions from the beginning. Because now-- now what? He can’t do anything. He should. He has to. But he can’t. 

        “Fuck,” Lachlan curses out loud and puts the gun away; once his hands are empty he covers his face with them and screams out, muffling the sound and then rubs his face with his palms in frustration. There’s a decision to be made, one that he doesn't see himself making any time soon. And he has to; there have been so many questions already about how he’s doing and the last answer he gave was I’m close; he was right -- he is close, he’s been close all along and now he knows. And suddenly he can’t do what he’s supposed to do. 

       He’s pacing all around the room, his shallow breaths filling the silence; there’s anger and frustration bubbling up inside him and while his hand is itching for the gun -- so he can just be done with it; just give into the impulse and finish his job -- he doesn’t let himself reach for it again; it stupid, to leave himself exposed to the other like this right now, not when the situation is so tense and now that it’s come to this. He should be watchful, alert but he can’t-- a part of him stupidly believes that he’s safe in the other’s company. He’s grown to believe that while out there in the world he has to keep himself protected at all times, when the doors lock behind the two of them he can let go; be calm, not worry. Lachlan realizes how soft he’s grown because of the other and curses himself for this. 

       “That what you want? You want me to--?” Lachlan can't even say it, not right now; he comes to a halt in front of Eoin and stares at his face; the face that seems to be his doom right now. He takes a deep breath, swallows hard and brings his hands to his face again, trying to hide the frustration behind them; this is not going to work, he thinks but all that’s coming out of his mouth are muffled curses. “Did you know about this? Before we--” he trails off, unable to finish his sentence again.