loki laufeyson (toberuled) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2012-05-14 17:57:00 |
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Entry tags: | eames, loki |
Who: Louis and Evan
What: Someone in this doc is tied to a bed, but unfortunately not in the sexy way. A general discussion of how Loki is ruining Louis' life, Evan being off the drugs, and more UST than you can shake a stick with a glowing blue stone in it at.
Where: The hospital.
When: Just after Louis returned from Loki beating up on Raoul.
Warnings/Rating: Some making out, nothing explicit.
Louis made it to the hospital in half the time he’d told Evan it would take. He had wanted to see him for almost a week, but things had gotten so complicated so fast. But that was an excuse. He should have found time to go, even with all the...trouble. And Loki. He should have tried again.
Regrets could only get Louis so far, however, and when he arrived at the hospital, despite the fact that he had a sneaking suspicion Evan was more than a little upset with him, he was simply relieved to have the opportunity to see him. Things certainly sounded as if they’d been difficult, if he’d been trying to jump out of windows, and the thought of it made him feel a little sick. Every time Loki went on a bender of destruction, Louis felt a bit like a shameful addict. He left, and he always seemed to be gone when people needed him most. He didn’t know if he could have done more for Evan, but it felt as if he should have tried.
Louis presented himself to the nurse at the front desk, and was led through the warren of hallways to Evan’s corner room. After being informed there were only a few short hours left for visiting, he thanked the woman and slid inside, shutting the door quietly behind him. He took in Evan on the bed, the restraints, the distinct lack of windows in the room, and his mouth pulled down a little with worry. Louis looked tired, though not as worn at the edges as when he’d last seen Evan. He knew it was wrong, what he’d done, what he’d allowed Loki to do, but at least he didn’t have to worry about Sam or Neil’s safety anymore. One concern seemed to constantly replace another, but at least Evan was better. At least, at least.
Louis hesitated a moment at the door, then walked over to the chair beside Evan, folding himself into the plastic chair beside the bed, leaning over its edge a little. “I am sorry I didn’t come sooner,” he said. He knew he’d done the right thing in bringing Evan here, but it still pained him some to see him bound to the bed as he was.
Evan actually felt pretty good. So the restraints sucked, but these were long enough that he could sit up, which meant he was being a good boy, and the nurses weren’t looking at him like a faulty grenade anymore - also good. Becky was still around, wandering the halls, but he didn’t think it was all a dream anymore, and even the shrinks felt pretty sure he wasn’t going to go kill nuns in his sleep or anything. The room sucked, with its lack of windows and overhead light, but he wasn’t going to be there much longer, and he could put up with things that might make other people go crazy antsy. But waiting for people to die was the most taxing thing in the world; when it came to patience, he was a pro.
A shower and shave that morning had also helped Evan feel like the world wasn’t a sack of shit anymore, and by the time Louis appeared he was dressed in a clean white t-shirt and some hospital issue scrub pants in mint green. His hair was still damp, pushed back from his chiseled features, and there wasn’t a hint of the ever-present stubble in place. In short, yeah, he did look better. But his attention was completely focused on the man who walked through door, because he didn’t look so good.
Evan was observant, despite not being relationship material for anyone with any sense of self-preservation. But he noticed things about his lovers and, sure, Louis wasn’t literally his lover, but that was just a matter of time. He followed the other man with a sharp, blue gaze. From the door, to the grabbing of the chair, to sitting down, Evan watched him. He didn’t say a thing, just watched, not even bothering to pretend he wasn’t. He listened to the apology, and he shoved it aside with a wave of a manacled wrist, because the apology didn’t matter. Evan had learned years ago - in a fiery crash - that apologies didn’t count for shit, man. You did things you intended to, and you never apologized for them. If you felt the need to apologize, then you shouldn’t have done whatever it was in the first place.
“Screw that,” Evan said, just candor without anger in his tone. He looked at the other man a second longer, then he reached out and cupped Louis’ jaw, just able to reach with the length of chord keeping him in place. “Man, I can’t tell if talking to you about this guy is going to make it better or worse. That worries me.”
Louis was not accustomed to touch - generally speaking, physical contact during his adult life had been quick, rough, and intent on something very specific, be it for the sake of violence or its opposite. Evan’s hand against his jaw was unusual, as was all of Evan’s easy physical intimacy, and he treasured it. It was a quiet comfort, disarming. He took the opportunity to study Evan’s face up close, and he looked better and cleaner than he had even back at his apartment. He hoped that wouldn’t change when Evan was released, which couldn’t be far off now.
Louis touched the cord that tied Evan’s hand to the bed, slid it between his fingers and traced it down. “I know I shouldn’t have done what I did,” he said. “I know it was wrong.” His eyes narrowed a fraction, and he glanced back up at Evan. “But he forced my sister into a marriage she never would have otherwise agreed with, and did it by threatening physical harm on my brother.” As much as he knew it had been the wrong choice to make, he still couldn’t help but think that Raoul had deserved it. Louis had often wished that he could put bullies like him in their place. A flicker of guilt accompanied the anger behind his eyes. For all his usual measured stiffness, and the sadness it dissolved into, it seemed Louis was far from incapable of getting angry. It took a great deal to draw it out, but when it was, Louis had plenty of fire to draw from, though it was banked under damp coals. “I couldn’t do anything on my own,” he said, strain in his voice. “I saw no other way.” That was what it came down to, really. He felt so powerless, always, and here he had been given the opportunity to intercede on behalf of his family, to help them and punish someone who had done wrong, if he only said yes for a little while. And the bad means had gone on to achieve a good end.
Evan sighed a heavy sigh, and his hand dropped to Louis’ fingers on the chord at his own wrist. “Man, I’m not saying he didn’t deserve it, and I’m not saying something didn’t need to be done to stop the asshole who was hurting your family. I’m not saying any of that shit. I don’t care what Loki did to this guy, and I’m not saying it was wrong because of that, man.” He moved his hand back to Louis’ face, tipped the other man’s chin, forcing Louis to look at him, rather than looking down like a kicked dog. “Louis, own that anger. There’s nothing wrong with it. Hell, I would let Eames take over and put a bullet in someone’s head if they went after Stella. That’s not it. It’s that this asshole is trying to control you. He wants control. You can’t trust him.” Because that was something both Eames and Evan agreed on completely; Loki was trouble.
The pad of Evan’s thumb ran a line along Louis’ jaw, and he regarded the other man for a few careful easy moments. “He’s going to fight to take your life, Louis. You can’t just hand it over on a platter.” And that’s what worried him, that this had all been some ploy on Loki’s part to appear helpful, and that it had worked. Sure, Louis looked guilty, but Evan was guessing Louis would look guilty whenever he thought he’d disappointed someone. “I’m not disappointed,” he amended, just in case, and man he was so not the guy for this. “I just don’t trust him, man. And now you’re not going to tell me the next time he pulls this shit, because you’re worried I’ll get pissed.” Because Louis, Louis was painfully easy to read. The other man’s need for approbation was as tangible as the chair, or the manacles, and Evan suddenly felt like this was such a losing battle.
“What does your brother say about this?” Evan finally asked, because he was sure Katie wasn’t going to be much help, not with this, but he remembered Neil as being confident. But maybe not, because someone confident wouldn’t have needed Loki to fight for his chick. Yeah, they were screwed, and Evan suddenly really wanted a drink.
Louis lifted his head when Evan tipped up his chin. He hadn't even really been conscious of the fact that he was looking away, but Evan was right. Of course he was. He wasn’t accustomed to exposing his anger, or taking hold of it. It seemed shameful, as so many other things did - a lapse in judgement. It was strange to consider not feeling that way, to allow himself to admit how enraged he'd been, but perhaps if he'd done that in the first place this wouldn't have happened. It was hard to face anger, even for a good reason, when he was so accustomed to swallowing it back down.
"I know he does," Louis said, voice gone a bit thick at the edges. "I'm not so naive that I don't see it, I assure you." It was difficult to know what to say. He knew he'd made a mistake, and that all he could do now was apologize for it, but at the same time, nothing terrible had come of it. Of course that would be the point, knowing Loki. Louis was still here, though, and he had his own mind. "It won't happen again," he said. The thumb trailing over his jawline kept him from looking away again, though the instinct was there. "I won't let that happen." That much, at least, was said more firmly. He wasn't going to let anyone take his life from him, and certainly not a mass-murderer who might try to use him to do real harm.
His shoulders fell a little when Evan assured him he wasn't a disappointment. Louis hadn't been conscious of tensing up, but he had, shoes pressed tight against the floor. He didn't thank Evan for saying it, but it was in the curve of his neck as he looked down at him, the slight cant of his head toward Evan's hand. He really was as transparent as he feared, but that was alright, he supposed. He was just glad. "That's not true," he said, to Evan’s claim he wouldn’t tell him if this happened again. He took a breath. "If you're not - you said you weren't disappointed. I didn't say anything to you while it was happening because you were here. And because I was afraid what you might think of me. I just don't want to drive you off." He let go of the cord, and trailed his fingers up the inside of Evan's arm, until his fingers slipped into the hollow of his cupped palm. "I don't think I could bear to do that," he said, like the words were going to break something. His head lifted an inch, the posture protecting against the danger of that admission, how deeply into his most vulnerable places it might sting.
Louis sighed a little. "I have no idea," he said. "I sent him a message, but we've only talked a little. We're going to open the door they closed up, which should finally resolve the problem. It took him some time to get back to me, and based on what Sam...Christine, actually, I think, said, it was likely because he was still off being Erik." A faint smile. "Seems it runs in the family."
Evan listened, and he stared, and he didn’t say anything throughout Louis’ entire defense. It didn’t make him feel any surer about shit, anything that the other man was saying. “You sound like me when I say I won’t drink again,” he said about Louis’ assurances that he wouldn’t let it happen again, that it wouldn’t happen again at all. And, man, he hated the fact that he could see through that. It would be so much easier to just believe it, to be all cool, and fine, and you’ve got this, but Evan had been unable to resist a bottle for way too many years, and he could pretty much see himself reflected in Louis’ face then. It sucked, and he sighed as his thumb brushed over Louis’ lower lip. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, man,” he added, because he knew all about that shit too. It only led to guilty lies and hiding things so people didn’t know. He didn’t want Loki to become the bottle Louis stashed in the back of the sock drawer, and he knew better than anyone that no one could help someone else if they weren’t ready to do it themselves. The man sitting in front of Evan right then felt like beautiful denial, and Evan hadn’t been expecting it.
“You’re not going to run me off,” was Evan’s very firm (for him) response to Louis’ concern. Evan wasn’t the kind of man to let anyone else drag him into the undertow, but they weren’t there yet and, hopefully, when it got that bad something would come to him. It didn’t escape him that it was a when and not an if; he wondered when that had changed. The thought made Evan scoot forward as much as the restraints would allow, and he cupped both of Louis’ cheeks in his hands. “But I don’t want him running you off, man. I’m not interested in Loki and his power or whatever the hell he wants. I’m interested in you, and him taking over, it just means less of you. I don’t want to visit you in jail if he goes overboard.” Here Evan grinned a little, just a hint of a crooked smile, one that was all wrapped up in trouble. “No sex in jail, not for visitors anyway.” He managed to keep the smile, though the quip made him remember jail, and he wasn’t sure Louis could survive prison, and there was a new concern he wasn’t counting on today.
Evan considered contacting the family members, but it felt like betrayal just then, and he put the thought aside to tuck a blond curl away from Louis’ face, behind his ear. He slid his hand there after, cupping just over that ear, the ends of his fingers lost in the mess of blond and his thumb brushing against Louis’ cheekbone. “Want to trade? Eames is a piece of cake in comparison.”
Evan refuting Louis' promise stung. Was he that untrustworthy? Was he that weak? "I mean to keep it," he said, but now he was afraid. What would happen if resolve crumbled? What if something else happened to Neil and Sam, or to Iris, or to Evan, and Louis tried to do the right thing by doing the wrong thing, again? What would happen when he gave up entirely, commissioned his life away due to helplessness, let himself be convinced that he could do nothing, solve nothing, count for nothing?
He bowed his head. Suddenly, everything tasted of despair. It might be inevitable. There might be no way out. There might be a day when the safety of those around him seemed to rest on sacrificing his own life, and the good things he'd only had a few moments to grasp in it.
"I suppose I have to convince myself that I'm capable enough on my own," he said, with a flash of a watery smile. It likely wasn't a good sign about one's self-worth, he supposed, when one had to convince oneself they were better than a murderous psychotic.
Louis laughed a little, as much as he could, at Evan's assertion that he would be better off with Eames, and he rested his forehead against his hand, fingers at his temples. He slid the other hand out from under Evan's, clasping over it instead, holding it there against his cheek. He didn't know how he'd gotten here, sitting in a hospital contemplating whether or not he'd be able to anchor himself to the world, when he was as lucky as he was to be talking to the person in the bed across from him. He flicked his thumb against the corner of his eye. Tears, now that was pathetic. If Evan wasn't tied to the bed, he'd likely be running for the hills. "I'm an idiot," he said, with a perfunctory smile, that flickered wide and then small again, unstable. "Anyway, I'd probably too tempted to let him do the work of seduction for me, I'm not very good at it."
The watery smile reminded Evan of why he didn’t do relationships. It made him want to turn and run, but not for the reasons Louis thought. Evan would make it worse, eventually, he was pretty sure, if left to his own devices. He couldn’t remember ever being faithful, ever being monogamous. He couldn’t remember one time when he hadn’t gotten drunk and buried himself in some hot boy without remembering that he was supposed to be with someone else. He was that guy at the party, the one that always ended up in a stall with someone else’s boyfriend, and he’d sworn off relationships a long time ago, because he always felt like shit when he made someone cry. It had been years, sure, but here if he screwed up he was pretty sure he’d have a Norse god after his ass. Whether that was better than tears or not remained to be seen. But he was pretty sure Loki was the I told you so type, and he hated the little shit just then.
“You’re capable on your own, man. If you didn’t have Loki and this shit happened with your brother and sister - which sounds so incestous, gotta tell you - then you would have handled it. You would have found this guy, and you would have threatened to dig up every last secret in his life, or you would have called the police, or you would have come to me and let me punch him in the balls for you,” Evan said, his voice steady and sure. “If none of that works, Eames will help,” he said, throwing his own Alter under the bus, but he didn’t care. He felt, very strongly, that Eames was just some extension of his own shit, so he could do it. What Loki being an extension of Louis meant, well, that wasn’t lost on him either. But one fucking massive problem at a time, man.
“You’re not an idiot,” Evan assured him, and he thought the crying was pretty, which was maybe more screwed up than he normally was, but he just slid a hand down to the center of Louis’ shirt and tugged, wanting him off that chair and on the bed, where he could reach him.
Evan wasn't wrong. Yes, he was trying to bolster Louis' confidence, perhaps out of fear of what might happen otherwise, but when Louis pierced through the seeming hopelessness of the situation and looked at what he actually would have done, Evan was right. He would have gone after Raoul with everything he had. He would have found a way to help Sam without anyone getting killed. That hit him at the same time something else became obvious - that thinking he had no other option was precisely what Loki wanted. No, there would always be alternatives. He knew his way around the judicial system, and he was not without friends or connections. There would have been a way.
Louis allowed himself, mute for the moment, to be tugged into bed. He had forgotten that they might be walked in on, nor did he care. He slid up onto the sheet and lay down next to him on his side. Crying wasn't pretty - crying was absolutely pathetic, and the sort of thing that would have gotten him beaten into a pulp when he was younger. He didn't cry.
"You're not wrong," Louis said at last. He smiled a little, and this time it was closer to meaning what a smile ought to. "I would have liked to see you punch him in the balls, I think. But I am an idiot." Unconsciously, he'd been thinking some of the same thoughts Evan had - that he'd be lucky, very lucky indeed, if he managed to hold his attention. Unfortunately, he'd long since passed the point of no return on becoming attached, or holding back to protect himself. There was nothing for it, now.
Evan looked for something in the other man's eyes, something like understanding or, at least, the dawning of it. Something there must have appeased him, if only a little, because when Louis slid onto the bed, Evan tugged him closer with something that savored less of concern than it did of interest. "You're fucking gorgeous " he said, all rough around the edges of the word and laziness, as if the compliment was just fact and not a compliment at all. The declaration came with a brush of the back of knuckles against Louis' jaw, the brush of a tether on Louis' neck and chest serving as a grounds reminder of just where they were. "I don't know how you haven't figured that out yet, man," he continued, a grin there, one he didn't bother to hide. And yeah, so maybe Loki was a bigger concern, but Evan thought focusing on that shit to the exclusion of all else was a bad idea, that making it all about Loki was a bad idea. Loki didn't really matter, not at the end of the day, and he wanted Louis to get that.
Louis was frankly relieved for a change in subject, even if the change was the sort of compliment he never knew how to respond to. He felt like all he'd been doing for the past few days was talk about Loki in some capacity or another, and it was nice to let that go for a little while. He slid closer to Evan, smiling a little when he brusquely complimented him. He liked the brush of his hand perhaps even more than the compliment, but the touch of the tether served as a reminder that, still, nothing could happen. That was alright, though. Louis hadn't waited this long to jump the gun now. "And you're generous," he said, and that grin of Evan's managed to get his small smile to widen a little. He knew he was going to have to go sometime soon, but for now, he was going to enjoy this. He reached out between them and took hold of Evan’s chin, brushing his thumb over substantially reduced stubble from the last time he'd seen him. He liked that, the smooth contour of his jaw with the faintest prickle. "I expect you've never had to figure a thing like that out," he pointed out, a touch amused at the idea of someone needing to convince Evan he was God's gift to mankind.
Evan reached down to skate a hand over Louis’ hip, but the tether didn’t let him reach, and he growled his frustration in a way that was more denied animal than mere man. Evan wasn’t the kind of man to want to fuck someone into next week just to keep them from wanting to spend time through a door as an evil trickster god; that was just a bonus. Because he did want to fuck Louis into next week, and he hadn’t wanted to do anything like that in a really long time, man. The widening smile only made Evan want to lick the grin off Louis’ face and, yeah, maybe the new meds were a good thing. “You can always thank me for being generous, once I get out of here,” he offered, the magnanimous lothario with the smile that was made to be distrusted. The question about needing to figure out that he was good looking was met with deepening dimples beneath the light layer of stubble. “No,” he agreed, because he wasn’t going to lie about that. “Feel like helping me paint once they set me free?” And that came out as a invitation to do decidedly more than paint, assuming his body complied.
That sound Evan made completely diverted Louis’ attention, and his eyes briefly flickered low. Being wanted like that, enough that it made Evan frustrated, that was the sort of thing he reserved for his better fantasies, and it left him impossibly wanting, heat flickering between his thighs in a way totally inappropriate for the setting. He’d never seen Evan want anything like that. Whatever the side effects had been, kicking the drugs had definitely been a good idea.
Louis slid closer, close enough to touch, which was something of a bold move for him. He didn’t trust that smile on Evan’s face, no, but he didn’t want to. “I can think of several ways I might thank you,” he said, low and quiet. “Painting is one.” The rest didn’t really bear saying when a sweet old nurse might walk in at any moment, but something of their content showed in his long look at the taut skin at Evan’s neck. There was no way painting was making it beyond a few brushstrokes. Evan’s walls were going to be a catastrophe.
Evan hummed with pleasure, a rich sound in the back of his throat, all sure male and masculine desire. He couldn’t turn his body, his legs and torso impossibly pinioned to the bed, but he did slide his hand around the nape of Louis’ neck and pull him closer. His fingers were strong and sure, none of that weak or shaky shit from before, and he led Louis right to where he wanted him, even if it meant the other man had to stretch along Evan’s restrained body to get there. “It sounds like a good way to spend the afternoon to me, man. You, a paintbrush, no one else around, limited clothing.” He grinned, and he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to Louis’ lower lip, sucking the soft, pinkness between white teeth with a rough-sharp tug. “Gives a sick man something to look forward to.” He said, pulling back and intentionally not giving Louis anything more than that, just that brush of parted lips and that tug of teeth.
Louis did have to stretch and slide closer, but he absolutely did not mind. His thoughts were already ahead to Evan's apartment and all the things he might finally have an opportunity to do. The kiss drew him back to the present, heady, rough, and quick, and he leaned into it as long as it was there. It was a horrific tease. Waiting until he saw him again was going to be nearly impossible, and he made a faint sound of frustration when Evan pulled back. "When are they releasing you?" he asked, with enough intensity that to say 'right now' would not have been soon enough. He stayed close to him, eyeing his lips, considering darting in and reclaiming what had been pulled away from him.
“Saturday,” Evan replied with a chuckle at Louis’ intensity. His fingers threaded in the other man’s curls as Louis eyed his mouth, and a grin replaced the chuckle, warm and challenging. “Go on. What’s stopping you, man?” he asked, knowing exactly what Louis wanted. It was printed all over the other man’s face, and Evan tugged sharply on one curl in invitation. “Not like I’m going anywhere, Louis.” Part of him thought encouraging Louis to feel more in control of the shit around him would help him resist Loki. Part of him just wanted to watch Louis gain some confidence in those uncertain eyes. Either way, Evan was confident enough not to worry about giving Louis power, at least right now.
Saturday. Louis could wait until then, he supposed, although the days stretched out long between then and now. He had best take advantage of Evan while he was here with him, then, he was right. The tug of a curl won him a smile, and Louis closed the distance between them, clasping his mouth to Evan's in a way not at all chaste, pressing his tongue inside quick and rough. He didn't have the patience just now to tease him. He wanted to know what Evan tasted like clean of the booze and the drugs, wanted to see what was new with the things he'd come to recognize, wanted to see if he could taste the fire he'd gotten glimpses of, the one it seemed was no longer banked. He wanted to know someone burned for him.
Evan wanted to slide his hand around Louis’ hip, and he wanted to tuck his fingers in the back of Louis’ pants. But he couldn’t. He was restrained, man, and he minded it all of a sudden, where he hadn’t so minded so much before. He growled against the kiss, gave Louis control for a second longer, and then he did with his mouth what he couldn’t do with his hands. He fucked Louis’ mouth with his tongue, long claiming licks, rough lips, and a slant that was all possession and demand. He only pulled back because he needed to breathe, and his voice was a snarl against the other man’s pale cheek. “Fuck limited clothing,” he said. “I think you’ll look gorgeous with nothing but a paint brush in your hand.” A gasp from the door drew his attention, but he didn’t care, and he kissed Louis again as the nurse (definitely the nurse) clucked.
By the time the nurse walked in, Louis had slid almost entirely up and over Evan, pressing for friction along his hips, desperate for something even if he couldn't have all that he wanted, the tongue in his mouth driving him into a panting frenzy. the growls, the licks - when the nurse walked in, he'd been fully prepared to get up, barricade the door with a chair, and pull Evan's clothes off with his teeth.
Then a voice came from behind him, and Louis froze, then dropped his forehead to the sheet beside Evan's head and moaned faintly. This was not fair. How many times was this going to happen?
Laboriously, achingly, he pulled himself off Evan, pausing for that last kiss before reluctantly disentangling himself. His curls were in dangerous disarray, as were his usually pin-straight clothes, and his cheeks burned with heat as he slid very carefully toward the door. He let his fingers trail over Evan's leg as he moved away from the bed. "Saturday," he said, almost accusing, and then brushed past the nurse, eyes averted.