“I deserve more than this.” Garrett/Ward
Hey nonny! Thank you for the prompt!
[send me an angst prompt + a ship]
Grant sat up off the mattress and grabbed his boxers from the floor where Garrett had dropped them. He was sore already; Garrett was always rough, but had been determined to make Grant feel it for days after that night. There was a quiet in the apartment, only the shush of the radiator heard.
“You’re quiet,” Garrett commented. He didn’t touch him, but Grant wished that he would, even just a brush of fingers, a touch against his spine, anything.
“Yeah,” Grant agreed.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Would you even care if we did?” Grant asked, standing up to finish dressing. “Because I told you what I wanted, that I wanted you and only you. I don’t want to fight for your attention, or beg for it. I don’t want to only be the easy fuck you take home because no one else was interested, or no one else was around.”
“Grant, I don’t have time,” he responded. “This is convenient for me. If you want me, this is how it’ll be.”
“It’s always what is convenient for you,” Grant said.
“I have an important job; I can’t step away to reassure you.”
“I don’t need reassurance; I just don’t want this anymore. I deserve more than this.”
He couldn’t look at Garrett directly, buttoning his jeans and reaching for the t-shirt he’d thrown off at Garrett’s request near the door. There was a mirror over Garrett’s dresser, because he liked to watch Grant from every angle, and he caught the way Garrett was looking at him. Since he was young and Garrett had saved him, he’d wanted him to love him back, but maybe he never would. Was Grant okay with that? Okay with being John Garrett’s plaything and nothing else? He enjoyed the sex, and his company, and the life that Garrett gave him, but he felt more like a thing or a toy than his partner.
“What we have is working,” Garrett said.
“For you.”
“I don’t know why you’re throwing a fit about this,” he continued as if Grant hadn’t spoken. “I taught you better than that. Don’t start being a problem or you won’t be worth even what we’re doing now.”
It was a slap to the face, but Garrett had drilled into him how to hold a poker face, how to act like nothing fazed him.
“What I’ve always appreciated about you is that you don’t kick up a fuss when I have to work, that you understand I have responsibilities outside of this.”
Garrett sat up finally and then stood up off the bed, unashamed of his nudity. He pressed into the length of Grant’s back.
“You’re my favorite, Grant. Don’t make me regret choosing you. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good.”
He kissed Grant’s shoulder blade. It should have felt sweet, but it was wrong against his skin.
“Now go.”
Grant did as he was told, but with a sour taste in his mouth.
