Betrayal
Time for the typical man catches wife in bed with another man drabble. I intend to clean it up and add some details and just generally make it read better later and maybe post it on the side-blog when its time. This is for the prompt betrayal for the March Madness event. @amonthofwhump CW: Aftermath of sexual intimacy, nsfw and nudity implied. Nsfm theme. [Content below the cut]
She tasted like sunshine. He knew she wanted to. Nothing that she didn’t want, ever happened. So if he could taste sunshine glimmering in the darkness, then she wanted it to be so. Their bodies were entangled, their minds… were unravelled. The complicatedness of what they shared, lay in sharp contrast to the simplicity of what they felt. Like the taste of sunshine in darkness. They wanted each other. She definitely wanted him, Aodhan could sense that intensely. Perhaps he would have, even without what people called his... perceptive abilities. They lay on their sides, a laziness marred their barely noticeable motions but an eagerness marked the way they kissed and parted… One of her hips dug into the mattress, the other was carelessly shrouded by the sheets. Everything else was his to see, though he barely could. He didn’t need to see her, Aodhan knew exactly where every part of her was. Her legs were tangled in his, toes curling and uncurling like a cat. Her hands were hung over his shoulders like an after-thought… And then. With a certain climatic and cinematic creak and thud, the door to the bedroom room flew open. Light pilfered the darkness, the sweetness. It stole the sunshine that she was. Light that brought with it true darkness, of dread. Fear that was partial to Aodhan, embodied in the form of the silhouette that his squinted eyes stared at. Aodhan knew who it was, so did she. And it was too late to pretend like this tryst, was anything but what it looked like. The words ‘It’s not what you think’ would be wasted and they would be a blatant lie. What Peter saw, was exactly was happening. His beloved wife, in the arms- or rather, this young man, this... man-child, this... fucking boy in the arms of his beloved wife. There were no words exchanged. There was no movement made by the two on the bed, who lay petrified like obscene marble statues. The only one who moved, was Peter. He walked like a stalking predator, in a skulk towards the side that Aodhan lay on. Soon, Peter's long knotted fingers wrapped were wrapped around Aodhan’s wrist and he tugged the red-haired boy till he slipped out of the limbered arms around him. Till he was forced to slip off the bed, and scramble to his feet in a chagrin filled frenzy. The first words rang like a haunting church bell, “What are you doing home?” they were issued from the lips that Aodhan thought tasted like sunlight, and now… made sounds like a vengeful, entitled ghost. She wasn't scared, she didn't have to be, perhaps. Or maybe she was past it. The fact that Peter was not amused by her tone was made known when he grabbed Aodhan by the back of his neck and hoisted him off the floor. “I will deal with you later.” The way the grip around Aodhan's neck tightened, and the airy hiss like quality of the words Peter uttered, let Aodhan know that the words were unfortunately not meant for him. hiss, They were meant for someone further away - someone still on the bed. Aodhan was going to be dealt with first. He was going to be dealt with now. And whatever that meant, Aodhan knew it was not going to be good. Two shadows of figures were still entwined, Peter’s and Aodhan’s this time. The red-haired young man didn’t really struggle as he was dragged, but he did lag behind Peter, given the odd angle at which he was forced to stumble alongside the man. His legs were still a tangle, now all on their own, they slipped and shuffled over each other, missing the warmth they were clawed away from. The words that spilled out of Peter’s mouth, through grit teeth sounded like a growl, “I opened my home to you and this is what you do?” Peter slammed the door to his bedroom as they left it behind, to emphasize the depth of his simmering rage, from the brew of betrayal.