That We Did This Thing Together As One

That We Did This Thing Together… As One.

By Mortifyd

Pairing: David/The Drifter (Dark Harbor)

None of these characters belong to me, no profit being made. I just thought it needed a little more at the end, didn't you? *grin*

For Enomine.

He was having the dream again; tortured by the memory of how he ended up alone. He turned over in his sleep and moaned as it all unfolded, as it had every night since he had swum back to the island. It always started in the park.

He pulled up under the trees and turned off the car. He was supposed to rush home to take Alexis out to the house on Dark Harbor, the summerhouse that would revive their tired marriage and verify their place in the social scene; but he didn’t. He hiked up the trail to the secluded little area where he knew the young man would be, just like always.

They had met one afternoon; the hustler and the married man; a twenty-dollar blowjob and they went their separate ways. When the urge struck him - a hard day, an ugly case, the dread of facing the life he made because he was expected to - David had made his way to the park and the boy was there, waiting for him.

They never spoke during those first encounters; it was strictly business. He changed his shoes and hiked up the trail; the dark haired man knelt and unzipped his trousers, stroked David’s cock to hardness and sucked. After he came, David tucked himself away and put his money in the nicotine stained hand, then walked back to face the rest of his life. Until that day.

“Why do you hate her?” he asked quietly, tucking the money away in his dirty jeans. David turned back around, startled.

“Because I feel trapped,” David replied. He felt awkward, talking to this man; he thought those thin lips looked best wrapped around his prick. His voice was smoky, a little rasp in the throat that gave him the pleasure his wife did not.

“See you soon,” he said softly, then disappeared into the trees. David thought about the odd conversation all the way home. That night making love to Alexis all he could think about was that smoky voice crying out his name instead of her breathy gasps.

He started going to the park more often after that. They talked - they kissed; eventually the money stopped changing hands. David wanted him, needed him, longed for him; the dark haired man gave him the release he needed. They worked it all out, step by step. It was time.

David stepped into the clearing and there he was; a slim figure backlit in the shafts of sunlight between the trees; his dark angel. He wrapped his arms around they young man and kissed him. He was terrified and hard, pressing his cock into the body that he could never get enough of. The dark haired man pulled back, dark eyes searching his face.

“You have to do it,” he said, kissing David on the cheek.

“I’m sorry.” David kissed him gently and stepped back. Then he hit him in the face. He crumpled under the blow with a groan; the delicate skin under his eye swelling already.

“I’ll be there. You need to go,” he whispered. David nodded and slowly turned away, making his way back down the path. He would never make this walk again; it seemed every leaf and shadow imprinted itself on his memory as he made his way back to the car; this part of the dream was always clear and orderly, always the same.

The dream rolled on around him, morphing into a surreal jumble of images. Alexis telling him to pull over, stolen kisses on the ferry, badminton in the sun. Walking in the house to see Alexis standing there, a pair of lobsters in hand and a sinking feeling in his soul. Frantic kisses in the boathouse, the fight in the kitchen, his fist smashing into the lips he had kissed, marking his lover and walking away. The knowing look on her mother’s face at the funeral and the cold ‘thank you for coming’ echoed in his ears.

He woke flushed and panting, sweat drenched pyjamas clinging to his arousal. He was alone. His wife was dead, his lover gone. He dragged himself from the bed, showered and shaved, then put on his sweats and waited for the sound of footsteps.

The waking nightmare was worse; the endless tick of the clock in the hall, he almost didn’t hear the footfalls on the wooden stairs. He ed ted the door as he had so many times before, certain that he had lost his mind this time and walked out into the winter air.

“Finally,” he whispered. He reached out slowly, sure that his hand would pass through the form before him until warm lips touched his own. He wrapped his arms around the man who had killed for him, who had returned just as he promised. David pulled the hood from his raven hair; drawing life from that kiss until he was nearly breathless.

“How are you?” he asked softly, looking up at the older man.

“I’ve had some bad nights,” David murmured; a weak smile flickered over his lips.

“Well, I’m here now,” he replied, toying with the hair at the nape of David’s neck.

“That’s… all I wanted,” David said. His heart thudded in his chest, feather light touches burned him through his sweatshirt; the nightmare was over. He was reborn.

“You proved it,” he whispered, laying his head on David’s shoulder, drawing him close.

“I hope so,” David sighed, clinging to the solid reality of him.

His lover slid his hand down his neck, over his shoulder and squeezed his arm, laying a little trail of fire with his fingers. His hand slipped down his forearm, then entwined with his own and gave a little tug. David followed him into the house, their house now; still in a daze as the door shut behind them.

They made their way upstairs to the bedroom in a lust filled fog, leaving a trail of clothing and fevered kisses in their wake. The air seemed to crackle around them as the fell onto the bed, a tangle of limbs and need.

He pressed David against the comforter, flesh against flesh, naked and desperate. They ground their hips together, each trying to burrow into the other - bites and kisses and groans as they relearned each other, wordlessly swearing to never part again.

David needed to be possessed and owned, to prove he was no longer afraid. He fumbled one handed with the drawer of the nightstand and pulled out the lube, pressing it into his lover’s hand; the feral grin he received in return melted his soul.

He loved the way David looked sprawled out on the bed, long limbed and shaking; hazel eyes begged him to hurry as he slipped slick fingers into tight hot flesh.

David moaned; he had never allowed himself anymore than random encounters in shame. He gloried in being touched, in offering himself to the man who had freed him. Another finger pressed into him, sliding against his prostate and drawing a whimper from his throat as his hips bucked, greedy for more.

He freed his hand and shifted David’s thighs onto his shoulders, making little shushing noises as the older man faced a moment of fear. He ran his hands down David’s thighs before slicking his cock and positioning himself. “That we did this thing together, as one,” he whispered, locking eyes with David, then pressed against him, rocking his hips slowly until he was buried.

David winced a little as he adjusted; the sudden stillness of the room recalled the nights he had dreamed of the freedom of true passion rather than self-mockery. He gasped as the young man began to move; there were no words in his experience for this. It was death and rebirth, lightning striking again and again as their bodies rocked together, giving and taking.

He grunted with every thrust, he had waited so long to claim David; the heat of him, the passion in his cries as he pushed up to meet his hips frantically; it was worth everything. He wrapped his hand around his lover’s cock, stroking hard and fast in time with his own rush for completion; David shuddered beneath him, eyes wide as he came, mouth open, heart open, soul open. He howled as he thrust one last time and exploded. They were one, sweat soaked and delirious in each other’s arms.