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Uploaded	By : HazardousRaptor Category: +G through L > Heavy Rain Views: 2691 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Heavy Rain, and am not affiliated with Quantic Dream, or Sony. (Sad to say) I do not own Norman Jayden, Carter Blake, or any offical characters contained within. I earn no money from this work of fiction.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Rating: M
Warnings: Cursing, and sex between two men. (In later chapters.)
"The devil's voice is sweet to hear."- Stephen King
U p l o a d e d
When the sun came through the window, it must have heated the black couch. Because it felt incredibly warm, able to smell the fine aroma of leather about him as the strange little dust particles drifted about in the sunrayscoming in through the glass. Norman stretched his legs a little more as he propped his shoe-less feet on the coffee table. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Carter to see if he disapproved. Yet he never seemed to take notice, appearing to be more focused on the action on TV.
"Awwwhh, come on! No fuck'n way he was out…"
The agent winced at the man's sudden curse, watching as he stamped his feet on the ground and made a seething growl in irritation. It was on the tip of his tongue to calm him with a subtle "It's okay, Blake.", yet it never escaped his throat. Tripping up on his tongue as it tried to speak.
"You see that?" He turned to Norman, pointing at the screen. "No way, no fuck'n way he was out. Shithead umpire, what's he see? Couldn't call a play if it bit 'em in the ass!"
A smile tug at Jayden's lips as he watched Blake lose it over a baseball game. It was the first game in the World Series, Phillies were losing to the Sox by two points, so he could understand his frustration. There was something almost…adorable about the older man actually getting upset over something so mundane. So…Normal to actually be pissed about. Even Jayden himself was human enough to find himself flipping out over a bad call. Strange as it was, he considered this all a rather enjoyable experience. It was a normal, almost relaxing event in his very strange, current, existance. He was beginning to wish him and Blake could have gotten along better instead of gnashing teeth, spitting and hissing like two tom cats in an alleyway. They could have easily hit up a bar before he left town and done this very same thing. And you know...He could be alive. Imagine the concept!
'Is he the lesser of two evils, or the worse?' The ex-agent pondered. 'I could have forced him out, told him the ARI would kill him some day...and I wouldn't be lying. Then I'd sit here for the rest of this afterlife in a fate worse then actual death. Am I being selfish? You need to tell him sometime, you know. What if his nose bleeds? Or his eyes? What happens when he starts showing withdrawal symptoms...?'
"Yeah, I see it…" Norman lied, for the interest of self-preservation. "I see what you mean-"
"You should! Such a crock of bullshit!" Blake looked back towards the screen with a clenched jaw.
A few minutes went by; they watched the game peacefully as they could. Norman had to admit the Phillies were putting up a good fight, could see Carter's shoulders tense with every mistake they made. Norman was a bit cooler under pressure, having a two-point lead. The stands were full of excited Philadelphians and traveling Sox fans alike- and his eyes traveled over all the happy families out with their kids. Kids he'd never have, families he'd never have. It made even his pleasant experience somewhat depressing. 'I made a deal with the devil, all to save my reputation...Does it even matter, now? Does anything?'
Sighing, Jayden shifted in his seat, wincing at the bruises that had formed from the earlier incident. An incident he was sure Blake was still a bit irritated from. Again, he had taken the ARI off in order to see the TV better. Yet he felt less worried this time, mostly because he was sitting and knew he wouldn't fall nearly as much this time.
So far, so good. Carter ignored his sigh as he glanced in frustration at the players, willing them from afar to show the little shit next to him whom the superior team really was. Shifting, crossing his arms, Norman felt himself suddenly anxious as he reached up to adjust his tie. Fidgeting again, he brushed dust from the sleeves quickly as if suddenly aware of how filthy he was.
"I don't know how you can stand wearing that thing all the time…"
Norman looked up to see Carter flashing him a glance.
"I'm sorry?"
"That suit- come on, you can't really like that thing, can you?"
"I don't think I have much of a choice right now, do I?"
Blake shrugged his shoulders and looked back towards the screen, a commercial had come on. So, he looked back to taunt the agent even more.
"I think you do- you can eat and drink, I'm sure you could take that shit 'off-"
"It's not shit, it's Giorgio Armani." Norman misspoke, forgetting that he was talking to a man who looked down on such purchases.
Blake's eyes got wide as he put his hands into the air and shook them side to side to indicate his extreme "excitement."
"Oooooh! Well, excuse me! Sorry about that- 'wasn't aware I was speaking to the fucking Queen of England- Shit you in Philly now? You really let yourself go downhill- ."
"Alright! Christ, I know it was a fag thing to say. I get it, 'Cartah-"
"CartER."
"That's what I said, Cartuh-"
"Fuck, Boston boy, I've never heard such a fucked New England accent in all my life. You shit-heads come down all the time and think you're gracing us with you're pleasant little upper-class bullshit- but you? The least you could do is take the time to say something right."
Norman bit his bottom lip horribly, trying his best not to spout out the various curses he had on the very tip of his tongue. He could think of a million ways to insult the man's intelligence and flimsy logic. Instead, he thought of a different way to put the lieutenant in his place.
"Well, what the fuck is OriGAYME-E killer supposed to mean?"
"The hell you talking about, Norman?" His voice on the verge of irrtation, trying to redirect his focus to the game.
"'Evah since I came here you've been say'in that wrong."
"No I haven't-"
"Yeah, you've!" The perturbed agent jackknifed upwards.
"Say it, say it right now!"
Waves of tension rolled forth from the man seated across from him on the couch. Yet he seemed to take it amazingly well in stride. There was an obvious grinding of the teeth as his jaw rocked back in forth in it's socket, his lips drawing into a line as he then licked him like a dog kept from it's meal.
"Or-a-gaym-ee killer-"
"You see? You hear yahself? What's that, a Brooklyn acc-"
"Fuck you, Jayden!" Blake cast a hateful glance towards the kid as he snarled towards the fact that the Phillies didn't seem to be picking up any slack.
"'Lived in PA all my life, for your information. Not that it's any of your goddamn business." He snarled, wishing he could focus on the little cunt exclusively to display his rage.
There was an awkward silence as Jaydensmiled like a Cheshire cat, reaching forward and grabbing his beer as he took a sip. The young agent rolled about what to say next, having one-uped the older, supposedly superior male.
"…Not from fuck'n New York…Don't offend me with that shit. What about you, fuckhead? Boston boy, eh?"
Jayden relaxed a little, actually glad that he responded first so he wouldn't have to think of a sly barb to fire back.
"Born 'n raised." Norman took another glub from the can, rolling it around in his mouth as he sat back.
Another small silence, yet Jayden couldn't stop his mouth from going once it started. The two were finally starting to learn a little about each other.
"So- that a Philly thing, then?"
"'The fuck you mean, 'Philly thing?'" Blake questioned an edge to his voice. Obviously frustrated at having just been bothered again.
"You know…An ax-cent thing? Every city's got it."
The commercials started, the first onefeaturing the typical masculine stereotype of manly men surrounded by woman as they celebrated a particular beer beverage. Blake averted his gaze from the TV and caught Jayden's as he attempted to shut his curiosity out once and for all.
"Maybe it is, I don't really give a shit. Why is this such a big fucking fascination for you?"
Shrugging his shoulders, he looked towards the screen as that commercial ended and one for yet another alcoholic beverage started up.
"'Just making conversa'shun."
Blake took a second to analyze that, scoffed, laughing a bit under his breath.
"Let's get something straight, Norm." Came Blake's vicious reply.
"…We're not friends, okay? I know sucking my dick made you think we got married, but as far as I'm concerned- this is a professional relationship. So- if I were you, I'd keep conversation formal…"
Norman's heart rate increased as his face turned red. This time it wasn't so much from embarrassment as much it was anger. He watched as Blake talked, thumbing his nose nonchalantly as he spoke, sniffling at the end of it in order to clear his nasal passages. Looking towards the kid, he gave him a long glance from under his eyebrows, in an attempt to show how relaxed he had become.
"…Y'know?"
Clenching his jaw, Norman turned his gaze back to the TV. Damn, the commercial breaks were long! He winced at the awkward nature of the Cialis commercial that rolled. 'Well, I know of one middle-aged man who sure as hell doesn't have that problem."
"Blake! What's you're problem?" The agent sat up in his seat again, bringing his shoulders forward in an attempt to re-estabiblish dominance.
"I'm not saying we're on a fucking date- I just want to be a little social with the guy who's cock I'm blowing- 'fah what, it 'doesn't matter. Don't start your shit with me again- I don't need it."
"Yeah? Well I'll be sure to get my photo album out, my yearbooks, all that shit, so you can see my whole life story! Or maybe when we go to your funeral, we can chat it up with your cousins, aunts' n uncles and shit- and tell them all about our little fuck-sessions using your glasses- or hey, let's all go down to the fucking mall and get some ice-cream together-We can do that thing where we walk with our hands in each other's pockets-"
Rising to his feet, Jayden walked around the couch and into the kitchen in a huff. The older man's tensions rose as he felt the hairs prick up on the back of his neck as if he was ready to intimidate the other male rather how two dogs square off before a fight. Christ, he almost had the desire to lift his leg and mark his fucking territory.
"-Actually, that sounds great right about now. I haven't had ice cream in a while…"
Blake's head bobbed as he sharply laughed a few times, biting his bottom lip in a combination of amusement and irritation. Looking over, he watched as Jayden disappeared past his vision and towards the sink of his kitchen. Noticing the game was back on, he reached back and grabbed the remote, pausing the DVR and looking back.
"What'r you doing in there?" The older man posed.
"You said to just do something if I wanted to- that I wouldn't be 'intrud'en…"
This made Carter curious, which was more of a cat behavior then the pit bull he was- and got up as he went to see what exactly the little house crasher had gotten into. He spied him hunched over the sink, washing his face fervently, the water soaking his sleeves.
"…You alright?" Carter surprised himself with the question- it was meant more out his inquisitive nature then his good will. "Norman…?" His voice was more like an upturn, coming out as a question more then anything.
"You gonna die again, or what?"
He watched as the soft-brown head shook a no- finally leaning onto the sink and reaching up awkwardly to attempt and grab the handle. Missing at first, he found it on the second try and shut the stream of water off.
Though he had to admit he'd never really given a shit when girl friends from times past were sick and were practically begging him for a fucking tissue. Oh, of course he'd get the fucking things, God forbid they get off their prissy asses to get a tissue while he was getting ready for work- Jayden was different in more ways then one. The main one being the whole "being a man and having a penis" thing- but also the fact that he seemed at least respectful towards his authority- despite his little uprisings. They were starting to come off like a shy little turtle coming out of his shell. He could learn to live under his own tyrannical rule.
"Sorry…" Came the brunette, sounding like a sick patient. "After I ate, I haven't been feeling well…"
"Don't blame me; I didn't give you food poisoning-"
'That's not what I meant, you shithead-'
"Not like that…Just…weak. A bit nauseated. I think I got up too fast, don't worry about it. I won't be a burden."
Jayden didn't hear anything from behind him, and instead worked on drying his face off with a nearby paper towel, walking over and nonchalantly searching for a trashcan. Blake seemed to notice and pointed over towards the door.
"…Over there."
Nodding a 'thanks', Norman walked over and deposited the used paper-towel into the can. He turned to look at his captor, noticing a fascinated look on his face.
"What…?"
Shaking his head a little, the lieutenant's gaze changed from an almost sympathetic one to his typical snide, angry demeanor.
"I just don't get it." He started, teeth flashing in a display of machismo.
"-You finally get something to eat- been saying you're hungry since forever, and when you do, you just get worse- you lying to me about something, Norm?"
Narrowing his eyes, the agent stood taller as he took every advantage of the good inch or two he had over the cop. His mouth opened wide and he rose a his right fist into the air in a display of irritation, yet he looked away and brought it down as he managed a growl in his throat instead. His usually soft gaze changing into that of an opportunistic predator looking for a weak point in his argument to take advantage of.
"What if I am? Why would you care, Blake?" The younger man threw his right hand up as he spoke, gesticulating and enhancing his point.
"I thought you didn't give a shit about me- just business partners, 'right?"
The man in black appeared to be analyzing that as he spoke, looking the agent up and down in his 'lovely' Armani suit he seemed so proud of. 'Fancy fucking asshole.'
"Now you listen here you little prick- it's called protecting my investment." Carter stressed a point, making a pointing motion towards the ground as he talked. He sneered as he spoke, and for a moment, the older man reconsidered punching the bastard at long last.
"…I don't need you getting sick while I have to tend to your ailing ass. I have a career- in case you haven't noticed. I don't even know how you can get fucking sick- I have no idea what your issue is with you being dead and in a pair of fancy fucking glances- but I do know you're standing right in front of me- pissing and moaning because somebody found your shit out. That I do know. I'm not an idiot, Jayden. Now, are you sick, or what?"
Jayden's heart throbbed in his chest, watching the hot, livid gaze of Blake going through his temper-driven bought of searing anger. It wasn't the worse he'd seen the other man, not by a long shot. Yet in his suddenly weakened state; he found it difficult to look the other man squarely in the eyes, and averted them halfway through.
It was then when Jayden's blood pressure suddenly spiked, and a cold, easily recognizable sensation flowed down the top of his lip. He looked down as his vision blurred in and out; watching a few spots of blood hit the linoleum floor.
'Shit…Shit! I'm fuck'n in ARI since a few days ago, and I'm finally showing symptoms of overuse? I-I…No, not in front of Blake- I'd rather die then-'
"-the fuck is wrong with your nose?" Blake questioned, his tone growing even more anxious.
"Shit, there's something you're not telling me, I knew it. How the fuck am I supposed to treat a dead man, Norman?"
"…Dizzy…Just, dizzy…"
The older man watched Jayden stumble about, his legs steadily becoming rubbery as his eyes lost all focus. It was then that he looked down and saw the kid's hands shaking. 'Just a little dizzy, eh?'
Almost in a sort of reflex action, Blake found himself grabbing a paper towel from the modest holder nearthe sink. He dipped his head a touch as he took a step forward, almost unintentionally signaling a sort of temporary submission as he edged closer. He attempted to hand it to the agent, putting it out with one hand. Yet it became apparent he wasn't going to take it from him. His gaze wasn't even focusing on anything except the blank space in front of his eyes. Just by his stance, he could tell the other man was about ready to collapse. Deep down he knew what he was about to do was a bit intimate, not really becoming of him or particularly prideful for a straight man- though he'd be lying if he said he didn't want to do it. Blake had no real problem laying his hands on other people, oddly enough, especially other men. It was a hardwired inclination in a dominant, testosteronene driven male such as him. He had that desire to touch Norman, not so much sexually as much as to obtain control. The agent always seemed uncomfortable about it, though. On the Origami Killer case, he patted the kid on the back only once, before the meeting in that small room. He seemed to move away and give the man an odd look. Immediately, Blake's opinion of the man faltered significantly lower. God forbid he even touch an FBI agent- he had acted like Blake was a creeper in the street, not his new, temporary partner. Yet it appeared from the evidence he presented, that Jayden did not like to be touched, and didn't want to do so to others unless somebody was seriously fucked up. It instilled that caring emotion in him, not a domineering trait in his persona.
"Here, kid…"
There was an obvious sigh as he swallowed his pride, he walked up and placed his left hand into the small of his back. He watched as Norman shied away from his touch, his face reacting as his eyes widened and his whole body did a massive shiver. The muscles pulled away from his warm, infernal palm as he felt pressure applied. Wincing, he felt revolted as a pleasurable sensation consumed him, mirroring being dipped from the waist down in warm water- devouring everything below his solar plexus and down to his thighs.
"Come sit down. Take that fucking thing off. We've got a game to watch."
Despite his groggy state, Jayden managed to shakily look towards the older man in a perplexed manner as he was pushed forward. When he stumbled, Carter's right arm shot out and steadied his stance as it nestled warmly on his stomach.
"Don't fall; you're not much good to me crippled." Blake sneered at his own comment, letting slip a dark laugh.
"…Or, actually, you know what? I don't need you to be moving. I just don't want to wait on you like I'm your fucking husband."
Jayden's vision fuzzed in and out, his head lolling downward as he tried to watch his own feet shuffle. In the back of his mind, he didn't want Blake to work one ounce harder to attend to his needs- he felt emasculated as it was. His cheeks turned a vibrant red as his stomach bottomed out. Between his legs, the sensation of being so close to the dominant male flooded his body with a powerful cocktail of confusing emotions.
He had become accustomed to his scent throughout the origami case, not that it was something he noticed until he was gone. Not to mention felt afire in that cursed, devilish gaze, as it seemed to look him over and judge every ounce of man that he was. He swore he resembled some junkyard dog- like the powerful, muscular beast with a short snout and strong, stout legs whose tail would only wag on occasion- hackles up and body stiff as it evaluated the lankier, steely creature before him. Watching for weakness so he could strike, waiting for any chance to assert his alpha status, any slip up, any moment of faulty judgment at all. Blake jumped on it like a lamb to the slaughter placed in front of him; using every curse on the tip of his tongue instead of physical confrontation- not that he didn't want to. He could see it in the way he tensed up, could practically smell the adrenaline coursing through the man's veins.
Perhaps sex hadn't been on the older man's thoughts- or maybe they had been - all those long days ago. He couldn't read the man's mind, couldn't fully understand his fucked ways. Jayden could try, could work his magic the best to his ability. He theorized that perhaps Blake was just really perverted, yet it didn't seem to fit Jayden's own personal little profile of the older man. He was personally aware through some of his psychology teachings that straight men very often (more then they would ever personally admit) fantasized about dominating other men in a sexual way.
Had the man fantazied about him before, he wondered? Ever thought about raping him brutally from his behavior on the Origami Killer case? All in an attempt to "put him in his place?" He'd never seen a lusty look on the older man's face until he got on his knees in front of him earlier that day. Even then, it was fleeting. Instead, he always saw that look of pure indigent rage. Withheld, it seemed, within his body like a beast ready to bust from its cage, shaking and bending the bars as it tried to escape.
Perhaps it was because the other man craved control, sought to beat into submission everything he caught in disorder to comply to his ideal. His airtight standards that may or may not have been right or just. He was used to using his words, his fists, his position of power to drive others into subservience- when this failed to do the trick to Norman; he supposed this was a new and fun way to circumvent his authority into an uppity, attractive young man.
Norman felt the back of his legs hit the couch, and almost immediately he let them buckle so he could sit down onto the soft, warm fabric. He felt Blake lean him against the back, and the agent let squeak by a small moan of content as his head felt a solid surface. A tingle ran up his spin, and he visibly shuddered at the sensation of strange comfort brought on by the other man. A slightly soft fabric was felt against upper lip, and his head jerked to the side as he tried to avoid the odd, alien feeling. Sure he'd wiped his own nose before, but he never had another person do it for him. Force was applied as he moaned a little in protest, his own pride withering like a deadening flower as he had his upper lip forcibly wiped. He was rough about it, too. Putting way too much force into the action. Four powerful strokes later, he then cooed lightly as he then glided softly over his lips, collecting the last bit of blood from his soft, pliable mouth. He let that little pink tongue slip out again, a response he couldn't help but give. It licked the last bits of crimson as he blushed horribly at the sound he made, and let his head fall to the side in shame.
'Just let it go. Don't think about it...Let him finish. It will be over soon.'
"Now, we need to get you undressed…"
'Wait, what?'
With his eyes closed and head against the back of the cushion, he groaned in a rather negative fashion as his neck with the head attached squirmed against the fabric. He was too messed up to do much about it, and felt as his body was jerked forward, his jacket being ripped from his frame and pulled from behind his back.
'…Better not rip my Armani, that bastard will be paying for another-'
He could feel the jacket roll off the opposite wrist, and then hear it plop on the ground in a very careless fashion.
"Help me out here. I'm not you're fucking mom."
A small moan of protest left his lips as he tried to talk, opening his eyes then shutting them at the high light filtering in through the windows.
"God…My head…headache…The light…"
There came a low growl of irritation, and Jayden could feel the ground shake with the larger males' thunderous, angry footsteps. He could hear the shades being drawn, the sound of the large pieces of cloth smacking the windowsills in frustration.
"There, shithead. Take off you're pants, you're going to get dirt on my couch."
'Just what I want to do…Get naked in your house, Carter.'
Norman opened his eyes carefully, looking down to gaze at the suddenly complicated thing called a belt buckle. His heart throbbed wildly in his chest as Carter looked on, then heard him walk away as he started to undo the metal device. 'Thank God.' Then suddenly found himself hurrying to do it in order to finish before he came back.
"You still hungry? I know I am."
Cocking his head, Jayden released the usual squint of his and looked up.
"Well…Yeah, I guess."
Looking back down with renewed vigor, he worked the button on his slacks as he then zipped it down, sat back and raised his butt in the air to take off his pants. Just then, Blake decided to show back up.
"I got chips, dip- salsa? Popcorn? Some shit like that?"
In surprise, Jayden ripped off the last bit of his pants as he choked on his own words, throwing the slacks to the ground as he squeezed his legs together and cleared his throat. He couldn't help but look up to gaze at Carter's eyes for a moment, and in that short time he managed to catch a glimpse of the other man giving him an up-and-down stare as his eyes quickly took notice of his partially naked form.
'Well look at that, the little shit actually has leg hair. I thought fairies liked to shave themselves down? Still not a whole hell of a lot, though.'
"Got uh…Got any pork rinds?"
It came out of Jayden's mouth so fast and so casual; he forgot whom he was speaking to. He had to say something to get over the embarrassment of having Blake look over his almost-naked lower half. Though he did love ths salty, low fat yet artery clogging food, he'd admit. Even if it was a rare treat.
He watched as Blake seemed to register surprise, his eyes narrowing slightly and pupils moving to the right side as if he was thinking of something.
"I think I do, actually…"
With this, he watched as Blake moved away again, letting his breath return to normal as he blushed horribly.
"…Brief man, huh?"
Head lolling to the side, he grimaced and sniffled as he registered Blake's question. In the background, he could hear him shuffling about in his pantry to find his requested food. For a moment Jayden found it amusing that he was working so hard for little ol' him, but reminded himself of the cop's words. Words he recited not even that long ago. It didn't do much to convince the dead agent, however. There was a compassionate side to Carter- one that took notice when his rival stumbled, and felt sympathy instead of jeering hate.
When Jayden had knocked out Korda, had killed Mad Jack- not a word of congratulations peaked his lips. Not even a glance of admiration, just recognition. When he killed Nathanial, however, stumbled in such a huge fashion and showed his inner humanity, his true colors, he showed Norman a hint of his compassion. His weakness an unintentional display of submission, having been taken down a notch. So when Jayden's hypothetical neck was out for the wolf to see, the canid showed his own at long last.
Jayden pondered this, the revelation sinking it at long last. So, did the lion want to lay down with the lamb, he wondered? No- he wasn't a fucking lamb, more like the lion…Blake being more like a muscular mongrol or a snake in the grass then something as regal or proud as a big cat on the African plains.
No, Norman was sure; there was an extremely protective side to the older man. A side that very obviously showed itself anytime his work was threatened in the Origami Killer case. A side that showed itself when the therapist and Ethan Mars himself refused to cooperate with the fearsome lieutenant- enraging him and making him look incompetent in front of the young agent. It wasn't so much protecting Shaun Mars as much as it was protecting his way of life, his terrifying image and reputation. Though he was positive Grace Mars' little plea spurred the man even further on, driving him to save the life of a young child even fruther then before. Now, Jayden was sure it was aimed at him in a strange way. In a way he was certain Blake was completely unaware of.
"Yeah…" Norman swallowed, drawing his legs up below him in order to appear less conspicuous.
"I see you 'ar, too."
He could hear a slight laugh under the older man's voice as he shut the cabinet, then the sound of a bag being rustled.
"Off 'n on. I like to sleep in boxers, briefs are too constricting, you know?"
For a moment, Norman swore he could launch into a conversation about how fucking true that was. How many times had he reached down and pried those things out as they rode up his ass, squeshing his nutsack and making him feel like he might as well be wearing woman's panties. He'd have to take them off half the time, but fuck how he hated to sleep naked. It made him feel vunrable and gross, a sensation he wasn't used to.
"That's true…" The young agent replied, clearing his throat at the incredibly awkward situation created.
"I know what you mean. I should try that."
Blake came into his vision, only now noticing his quick and fluid movements walk into the scene. His head had been cast downwards, Norman tenting his hands as he set his nose on top of them casually.
"What, you never thought about that, yourself?" The older man laughed, and then Jayden felt a bag of crinkly, salty treats smack him carelessly with a "poosh" sound, as he took a few seconds to realize Carter had tossed a bag of pork rinds at him.
Glancing down, the agent grabbed the bag as it lay to his side where it landed. A look of irritation crossed his features as he stole a look towards the lieutenant as he planted his own bag of chips in his lap. They looked like some store-brand tortilla chips, or maybe some Philidelphian, local brand he's never seen before.
"No, actually. Pracitical shit tends to go right over my head."
Smirking lightly at that, Carter peeked over to watch the young agent open the bag up eagerly. Taking a rind out and crunching it inside his mouth as the hollow piece of hog flesh crisped about inside his jaw.
'No, now junk food never tasted so good. At least this ones fresh.'
He watched as Blake eagerly somehow managed to wolf down two chips at once, eating them rather fastidiously. Funny, Norman himself found his own hunger peaking again. This wasn't normal for him- especially now that he was in this strange phase. A phase, a plane of existence-between reality and virtual reality. Nothing would be normal ever again.
"Alright, now that we're done fucking around…Ready to watch the game?"
Norman craved a blanket or something to hide his nakedness. It was incredibly awkward not to mention pride deflating to be sitting in a rather feminine style with just your tighty-whities.
"Do you have a cover or 'something?"
About to push the "start" button on the remote, Blake sighed a bit angrily in his throat, as he looked the agent over in slight disgust.
"What, you cold? It's fuckin' humid in here."
Norman actually didn't seem to notice the stickiness himself, he took warm weather a bit better then the cop seemed to. Actually, the whole time they were investigating the Origami Killer case, Carter rarely complained about the chill. The rain, sure. Anyone would bitch about that. Though it seemed the hardened beast of a man had the edge in getting used to such a similarly cold and merciless climate.
"Never mind, then." Norman gave up, a slight irritation in his voice.
It took a whole two seconds for Blake to set down the chips angrily, rising from his seat with a growl in another sigh as he stood up. Walking in a display of poweress brought on by the aggravation he was suffering, he lunged down and grabbed a red blanket from somewhere behind the couch. Tossing it at the agent, he gave him a nasty look before planting himself back down again.
"Happy, Norm?"
'Actually…Yeah. Now I feel pretty comfortable, as much as I can around a head-case like you.'
Nodding his thanks with a slight smile on his lips, he put the blanket over his neither regions. Now that he was covered from the older man's curious eyes, he did actually feel much better not being in his constrictive suit. He looked towards the TV as he let loose a relaxing sigh, feeling his body sink into the couch as he relieved all the tension he could muster.
Watching as the game once again started, Norman tried to focus the best he could on the screen. However, a certain flutter erupted in his stomach as he felt his companion's fingers brush past his toes. A tingle of warmth traveled all the way from his crotch up his back and throughout his torso. The fingers just grazed his toes, hastily grabbing at something that wasn't there.
Norman shot a glance over nervously, goosebumps forming as he watched Carter blindly search for his chip bag as he kept his eyes on the screen. He didn't even seem to notice the other man's reaction, then casually reached back as he spied them lying against the couch. Grabbing them, he learned backwards and once more began to shovel food into his mouth like a horse at its troff.
Swallowing hard, the agent pulled his toes in a little in response. He winced as the sound of Blake making a mock laugh filled the air in a frightening display of happiness he rarely saw. Looking back to the screen, he noticed Philly had scored.
"Aw, fuck."
Blake eyed the kid across from him up and down, ready to make fun of him for not only Philly gaining a point, but for that fact he looked like some sickly old lady with a blanket drawn across him like that. Christ, he might as well get a pair glasses and start knitting. Instead, his eyes traveled to the tie he still wore, and it rolled about in his head how Norman could possibly stand keeping that thing on all day. He hated wearing his own, as it was. This was precisely why he didn't have it on right now. 'So why the fuck should he?'
"Take that fuck'n tie off. It's driving me crazy, Sox."
'Sox? What am I, a cat now?'
"I like this tie…"
"It's a Sunday afternoon, it's late, it's humid, and you're dead. For fuck's sake, take it off."
Norman scowled at the other man as he blatantly denied the man his wish. Instead, he crossed his hands before his chest and looked forward as he tried to focus on the game. Then he recognized the sound of leather shifting, and felt his body jerk forward with a feeling of a noose about his neck drawing closer.
Looking over with surprise, he watched as Blake yanked on his tie, once, then twice even harder.
"Come on, queer-boy. You look gay enough sitting there watching a game with that blanket- you don't need a tie-"
"Don't fucking call me queer, you're the one that wants to strip me, asshole!"
Carter only laughed at that, his eyes oddly smiling as he sat back and put his arms back up on the top of the couch.
"Nah- come on, kid. Back at parties in my day, you fucking ripped the other guy's pants down just to humiliate 'em. It was great- the girls would see what a tiny dick he had we'd all just laugh. Funny shit-I'm just making you look like the little douche you are."
Biting his lip, his own face draining of color as he sought to keep his cool, calm demeanor under control. He didn't want to give into this dickhead- even if he was his new lifeline. Even though that term was rather ill fitting considering he was no longer alive.
"…We didn't do that in my school."
"Yeah well, you missed out. What about college? I bet you must've been put through some hedonistic shit to get accepted into those little 'clicks' didn't you?"
Jayden went to speak, then actually found himself going towards a deeper, darker mode of thought. Twisting the own lieutenant's words, he fired back.
"What, we dating now? Need to know everything about my college days? We didn't do anything like that…I went to a classy school, Carter. Not that you would know what that meant."
'Oh shit, what did I just say? Beer is having its effect…' The younger man wagered.
For a moment he thought Blake might flip, yet he watched with surprise as instead, he nodded towards the agent with a small hint of glee. He scoffed loudly, and then caught the young man's haunting light blue eyes as he showed his almost unnaturally white teeth.
"Classy asshole. Surprise, surprise…I bet you never even got any ass, didn't you?"
'Why does he have that effect on me? He seems to have that ability to draw things out. Those goddamn eyes. They seem like they look right into you….'
"…I was always taught not to kiss 'n tell."
The subject ended quickly as a certain Phillie player found himself hitting a ball off into the stands. There was a combination of boos, cries and hurrahs from the crowd, and Jayden's mouth fell open as he stared at the screen, watching the Phillie player take his time rounding the bases.
"No fuck'n way!" The agent cried, and watched as Blake slammed his feet down on the floor as he jumped up, yelling the best he could with a mouth full of food.
"Yeeassshhh- 'suck it, FBI. That 'sfucking just 'appended-"
"Oh just you wait- we'll bounce back just as fast-"
Swallowing quickly, Blake shot back. "Glad to hear it- We'll see about that, Sox. We should make it interesting."
A glance towards the young ex-agent made the man squirm. In his features, he could tell the gears were churning inside his head. Working towards some greater, more perverse cause.
"Like what?" His eyebrows went up as he solemnly looked into the other man's eyes.
Blake sighed lightly and sat back against the couch, his arms once more positioned above the cushions as he sighed, raising his eyebrows in consideration. Putting a hand to his beard, he scratched his goatee in a sort of mock thought process.
"You know…My back's been feeling a little sore, it could use a bit of a…rub-down, you know?"
Raising his top lip and squinting hard towards the cop positioned there so calmly. He shifted uncomfortably, and realized that really wasn't nearly as bad as what he expected.
"What if the Sox win?"
Shrugging his shoulders coolly, he closed his eyes and knocked his head back to meet his action.
"-Then I'll give you one. Not that it's gonna happen, so I wouldn't get too excited."
Jayden let the corner of his mouth go up just a touch. Actually, he was pretty damn sure he was going to win- so excited he was.
"…Deal. You better be good with those hands, Cartah."
A small laugh came from his way, and he couldn't help but detect a hint of sarcasm. Despite the awkward air that suddenly filled the room, Norman found his eyes gliding over the other man's large, calloused hands. He didn't need to even guess how strong they were, and for a brief second he wondered how wonderful they'd feel gliding over his thighs- not his back. That brief second, he put back down into his stomach. It brought a flurry of activity to his groin. The last thing he needed was an erection right now.
"I don't know, not as good as you are with your mouth, I'd bet."
Looking back towards the screen, Norman couldn't help but grin horribly as he internally willed his precious Sox to make his night. Getting Blake to give him a back massage would be like winning some even more sinful lottery. He downed another pork rind as he shifted in his seat, a heat of excitement running through his body. Surprisingly enough, Blake looked rather calm and collected over there as he watched the game with a small smile on his face. It wasn't normal for him to look so settled and reserved- and Norman couldn't help but wonder why.
'Christ, he got a fucking blowjob. That's why. The guy just needed some sex…And the Phillies are tied with the Red Sox. He's satisfied. As long as he's satisfied…He's like a puppy with his stomach rubbed. I wonder if his leg will do that little kick-thing?'
A commercial began to run, and Carter fast-forwarded through back into the game itself. Ninth inning. It all came down to these next few segments between commercial breaks. For a second, he felt a sinking sensation in his stomach, and looked about to see the bachground filter in and out like a TV with bad reception.
"Shit!" The agent exclaimed, looking around nervously.
"What're you bitching about now?" Carter turned, and saw that his younger companion was no longer there. The blanket lay flat, nothing underneath it. Where the younger man's clothes were tossed to the ground, they disappeared along with him.
'Oh I don't think so…You're giving me a back rub, you eager little fuck.'
Reaching across the table, he slipped ARI on and watched as Jayden re-appeared. Just as he had hoped, the background didn't change along with it. It now appeared as though it would only do it when he wished.
"Thanks." Jayden breathed, not enjoying the slight hiccup away from his taste of reality.
Blake looked away out of common courtesy as he got the blanket back over his form, noticing the other male was clearly modest. He wasn't sure why the kid even bothered; they both had the same fucking equipment. Surely, back in college and high school, he had to shower with the guys, right? What the hell did he do, then? On the other hand, maybe he just didn't want him in particular to see him so vulnerable. Currently, Blake resided on that. It made the most sense- even if he liked the idea of Jayden being a little bitch in front of his other classmates. Despite all his teasing, he seemed to at least have a pair. Not like the many recruits he'd watch go through the trials before either making it or dropping out.
When Jayden killed Williams, he didn't whimper and cry- not that he acted like a badass, either. Yet he honestly was expecting him to ball like a baby. That didn't happen. A shocked, panicked face after the incident itself, a solemn, brooding stare out the window...a sense of guilt tugging at every fiber of his being, no doubt. Not like several rookies who sobbed, wretched, puked their guts out after slaying their first human being.
"You know, for someone who hates me…You sure want me around."
Blake lazily looked back over with the ARI perched above his nose. For a moment, Jayden swore he looked like he just walked off the set from fucking Miami Vice with that goddamn 80's porn star goatee and almost-sunglasses. He kept the smart-ass comment to himself, however.
"I'm not a man to welch on a bet- and neither will you. So shut the fuck up and watch the game, puss-ass."
Rolling his shoulders, he leaned back and watched as Carter leaned forward eagerly, still wearing ARI as he squinted to see the screen better. The young agent licked his dry lips a little as he followed his example and took Carter's bag of chips, munching away without even the slightest worry about retaliation. The other man didn't even seem to notice. Washing it down with a beer, he wiped his mouth with his arm as he observed the game with a new vigor.
As before, however, his gaze went back to the man who had become his unusual, unwanted captor.
'…Not a man to welch on a bet…' He had said. That's why he brought him back. Not the first time, though. When he fell from the ceiling. There was no bet at that point. No bet when he wanted him to eat. Or even when he put on those glasses for the second, and third time. No reason to keep coming back.
Eyeing the man in curiosity, Jayden's right lip twitched a smirk,
'Bullshit.'
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