InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "please don't go"

Matthias Graves | Simon Monroe (inbalance) wrote in thereincarnates,
@ 2015-10-13 23:54:00

Entry tags:

jim moore, matthias graves

Who: Matthias Graves and Jim Moore
What: A little help with handling rejection.
Where: Jim's place, Chicago.
When: Tuesday, October 13; evening.
Warnings: A little hurt/comfort smut. So. You know. That stuff.

It had never occurred to Matthias that Lucien would be angry about what he had to tell him. Shocked, yes. Needing a chance to think about it, of course. His prized protege actually being angry that Matthias had been grooming him to take a place in the Resistance's best (in his opinion) department, working closely with himself and Jim, hadn't seemed possible. Lucien was a man after his own heart, after all, Matthias had assumed he would understand the necessity for secrecy. He'd let Lucien in as far as he could, hadn't he? As far as he could without endangering all of them, anyhow, and even a little further than he likely should have, setting him up to befriend Francis, as well. Matthias's position in the Resistance itself meant that there were certain things that, even if Lucien were to have accepted his offer, Matthias could never have shared with him. Still, he'd thought that Lucien would understand the need for all the secrecy, and all the puzzles.

He hadn't told Jim how Lucien had reacted. Not yet, though he was under no illusions that he could somehow convince his lover that things had gone well. He'd have stood a better chance if he'd returned to his own home in Las Vegas instead of meeting up with Jim at his place, but that change of plans in itself would have given away far too much. There was no chance at all that Jim would miss his reactions, face to face. Matthias was excellent at his job, but Jim was better. Jim was perfect, really, and Matthias didn't think that he'd seen Lucien's reaction coming, either. Matthias didn't think he'd be angry. They hadn't told Lucien anything that could ruin them, at least not yet, although he could do enough damage simply knowing that Jim and Matthias were in the Resistance, and having a vague idea of their role.

After he let himself in, Matthias went straight to the bedroom, not even a pause for a drink. He was too lost in thought, and in the accusations that Lucien had slung. Matthias didn't think of himself as a very thin-skinned man, but he wasn't entirely immune to those weaker sorts of feelings, particularly when he treasured the person who had pricked them. He'd recover, of course. Lucien's words wouldn't affect his ability to do his job. That didn't mean he was entirely okay.

At first, he sat on the bed, head buried in his hands. There was still a chance, of course, that Lucien would change his mind and come around after all. Maybe Matthias should have been upset over all the work wasted, if he didn't. Instead, he worried about who else he'd discuss poetry with. He could talk about it with Jim, of course, but that inevitably moved into other things. In Lucien, he'd found someone he could have a simple conversation with, have the chance to feel a little older and wiser but still get something out of the conversation, as well. He'd come to like that, quite a bit.

The silence became almost as bad as the thought of discussing it, eventually. Matthias stood and started to disrobe, unbuttoning his shirt. It felt down to the crooks of his arms, the top of the scar that ran along his spine, healed into knots of white flesh like Simon's scar had never had the chance to do, revealed by the slide of fabric. In most places, he wouldn't show it. Here, at least, he was safe. Jim had seen every scar he had... including, Matthias thought, the ones that weren't on his body.

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inbalance
2015-11-08 06:51 am UTC (link)

Matthias hoped that it always made him shiver, when Jim ran his hands over the ugly scars that marred his back. He didn't want to imagine a future in which Jim's hands didn't make him feel as flayed open as if the wound had never closed, and yet miraculously healed all at the same time. Other men might not find comfort in Jim's arms, but Matthias knew that the hands that so often brought pain could also bring pleasure, that Jim was more than the sum of his temper. Matthias also knew that pain could be just as pleasurable, and that riding the edge of Jim's anger could be exhilarating. He'd accept everything that he found in Jim, good and bad, and that was the only way a man could even begin to dream of having any part of him at all.

It wasn't a secret he planned to share. Jim was his, after all, and he didn't need another man trying to steal him. No one, he fully believed, could love all of the parts of Jim quite so completely as he did, and he refused to entertain the thought of releasing him to a man who wouldn't appreciate exactly what it was that he had. He was quite content to stay lost in the dark forever, so long as Jim was there alongside him. He'd never thought he'd find someone who brought him the kind of soul deep certainty that this, this was the truth of what mattered in his life, like Simon had in Kieran. Jim, he thought, was his one true gospel, the beginning and end, the only god he wanted to worship.

When their lips met, he kissed back just as heatedly as Jim kissed, meeting each lingering shift of his lip in kind. The smile that had played around the corners of his lips blossomed as Jim nudged him toward the bed, and then down onto it. He didn't want to let go of Jim, but he reached behind himself, anyway, bracing himself against his palms so he could lower himself gently onto the bed. He scooted back, giving Jim the room to climb atop it with him. The sooner Jim joined him, the sooner their lips could press together again. The sooner he could taste Jim, feel him, know him as intimately as two men could know each other, learn him all over again as he did every time they touched.