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Uploaded	By : HazardousRaptor Category: +G through L > Heavy Rain Views: 2688 -:- 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
- 7
- 8
- 9
Rating: M
Warnings: Cursing, and sex between two men. (In later chapters.)
Author's Note: Again, sorry for the wait. I do indeed have crazy, wild summers. Not only that, I have this project with a new 55 gl aquarium. I love my fish. ^^ It was a long chapter, too. I like to pump one of those out every now and again, feel me? I promise this will start moving along faster, too. I tend to take FOREVER to get to teh sex, I just love exploring a character's interactions and psyche, to me that's the sexiest part of all, in a way. Okay, well...blowjobs ARE fun...And penetration...Okay, enjoy this. Sex will be coming soon, I assure you. I wanna write it about as much as you wanna read it. C:
"Bow down,
Sell your soul to me.
I will set you free,
Pacify your demons.
Bow down,
Surrender unto me,
Submit infectiously,
Sanctify your demons.
Into abyss,
You don't exist,
Cannot resist, the Judas kiss."
-Metallica, 'The Judas Kiss'
U p l o a d e d
The commentators seemed to be practically screaming their brains out at the amazing, just- about- unexpected development. They said it was unprecedented, amazing, a moment that would go down for years as an once-in-a-lifetime event. A story both sides of the fence would hand down for generations.
It was a tie.
There was overtime, of course. It was a standstill and completely pointless- both teams struggling to outdo the other with horrible screw ups on either side, outdoing one another's chances to gain a point to the scoreboard. It had started to rain a little, the lights flashing on as the sun went down and the game wore on. Both dominant, alpha males (though one would swear one would have to be alpha, the other omega) sat on the edges of the couch cushions as they watched and waited for a score. For a chance to humiliate the other by making them engage in the homoerotic behavior. Finally, the game was declared a tie to both their frustrations.
Blake bit his lip and made a grunt in his throat. He had long since taken off ARI, and as before the snot-nosed brat remained.
"Now what?" Jayden let out with a sigh, thinking now that surely, he'd call off the bet. It was a disappointment, he was stating to lavish the concept of Blake having to act like his little masseuse.
Considering just that, the older man stayed hunched over as he eyed the man with a sort of contempt, like the tie was his entire fault.
"What did you have in mind?"
Jayden shrugged only partially, haunting blue eyes scanning the grey carpet below as he sought out an answer that wasn't awkward.
"We could call it off…I mean it's only the first game, the second is on tomorrow, right?"
"You're not fucking getting out of this one, Norman... You little weasel." He pointed in an objectifying manner at the man still in a neck tie, "We had a bet, remember?"
"Yeah, if one or the other won, you asshole." He corrected. "-But both did."
"Yeah, and?"
"-So now it's different!" Jayden yelled, but then bit his lip, suddenly getting at what he was driving at.
"What'r you saying? We both-"
"You do my back- and I'll do yours. I think that's fair."
Blake didn't like that compromise any more then Jayden did- yet he wanted to humiliate the little shit so much, it would be worth his own emasculation along with it. He wasn't doing any "sensual oils" or anything like that, though. Though he'd have to admit he wish he had some for the kid to use, it'd be fun to get treated like the king he was for once.
There was a flicker of disgust on the other man's face for a moment, watching as Jayden's expression softened and he nodded, scratching the back of his neck.
"…Why do you get to go first?"
"My house, asshole. Simple logic, common courtesy- don't be a fuckwit about it."
Norman squinted in his typical fashion, mentally kicking himself in the ass for taking the bet in the first place. He wasn't a gambler; tried it once and hated it. Casual bets with co-workers even tended to be swept away as being "childish", something below him to be glanced at as an activity for low-life's. However, he would never say that aloud.
He couldn't help it, though. The Phillies weren't exactly a quality team, and the fact that they scored at all was a miracle as far as he was concerned. It was in the bag! However, it appeared that the two teams came up at odds with each other. Much like the two men that now sat in that steamy living room on a Sunday night. The young man couldn't help but notice the subtle irony in the two home teams from their own hometowns playing each other on that particular night- though he would have to say it was an irony he rather liked.
"Fine." The ex-agent finally sighed out. It was obvious he wasn't happy with the deal, yet Carter seemed more then willing to make the plan work.
The older man tilted his lip vindictively, his eyes gently smiling in response as he looked about the room. Now the sun had fully set, the rays disappeared and were instead swallowed by an empty blackness from beyond the windows. Just like that, another Sunday shot in the ass. Before he'd know it, he'd be back to work tomorrow morning. Continuing to clean up the loose ends of the absolute cluster-fuck that was the Origami Killer case.
"Shit. I can't believe that- a tie? A tie? Goddamn-"
"When Wakefield got called out, that's what did it-"
"No, no…" Blake shook his head, irritated that the kid seriously thought his team had an upper hand.
"…So did Molina, and Howard. At most it was on equal standing-"
"Goddamn it, Cartah. Can't you everah compromise with 'enethin?" Norman had to at least admit he rather liked the fact they were having a rather normal argument, about sports no less. Nope, no sexual tension here!
"Oh, I can compromise plenty. I'll let you know when you're not full of shit, when that happens…Yeah, I'll compromise with you." Blake groaned and reached to his crotch as he scratched it harshly. Jayden was fascinated by this for a second, then looked away as he realized he was staring a little too long.
'So much for that.'
Standing up, Carter reached forward and began to pick up the bags of chips, and Norman's near-empty bag of pork rinds. He gazed over and watched as the young agent put his hand up in a fist, covering his mouth as he let loose a little burp, covering most of it up with his mouth to be polite.
"Excuse me."
Nodding in recognition, Blake continued the clean up operation as he piled a few cans up into his arms. The other man made a move to get up to help, but he received a harsh glance from the lieutenant, and sat back down.
"No- sit down and rest. I don't need you passing out before you're little performance."
He watched as the kid seemed to give him a look of irritation, his eyes narrowing and focusing towards the wall to his left. That look spoke volumes, not requiring a single word as it told the other man he was being forced into submission. For a arrogant Leo such as himself, the very idea liquidated his pride and felt it weep through his pale skin. Oh, it was wonderful. That look was absolutely priceless, a work of art really.
"When do you want to-" There was a pause, and for a second Jayden almost said "fuck" -it made him tingle all over and go dry in the mouth. No, he did not want to spread his legs, especially not to this man. Norman himself only ever was on top. Not that he had a lot of sex even before his career in the federal bureau of investigations-when he did, he desired to be in control of the situation. Something told the agent he wouldn't be in control if Blake ever did want to take this a step further.
"…You know…" He finished, feeling his body lurch at the thought.
He watched as Carter threw some things in the trash, others being placed upon the kitchen counter to be put away. Looking back, he caught the kid's glance then looked back.
"Later." He sighed, "It's too early. I don't need to get tired this time in the night."
Looking back, Norman focused on the television's loud post-game sport's coverage. He looked towards the remote, scooting over as he grabbed it and returned to his current seat.
"So…What do we do until then?"
Carter looked back and watched the top of the brunette's head, saw it bob slightly as he wrestled to sit in a more comfortable position on the leather sofa. For a moment, he actually considered his question. What did he normally do on a Sunday afternoon? Oh yeah, that's right…Work. When he got back home, he usually just watched TV until it was time to go to sleep. Though he swore last night was the last time in quite a long time that he got a full night's slumber. He'd wake up usually in the middle of the night, and was too stressed with thoughts of the day before to go back to sleep. It only added to his weathered appearance, the bags under his eyes growing by the year.
"What am I, your fucking entertainment? Am I suppos' to dance for 'ya? See what's on."
Glancing up, he saw Jayden give him a dirty look out of the corner of his eye. Obviously, not the answer the indecisive little shit wanted to hear.
"See what's on the pay channels." He mumbled, then walked hurriedly out of the room and into the hallway of his small home. Norman could have sworn the ground shook as he walked.
Sighing, now that the other man was gone, he could at least get up. Stripping the soft, red blanket from his lap then getting up from his seat. Arching his back, he curled his spine and stretched his muscles as far as they'd go. His toes and balls of his feet pushed his body up as he reached his hands towards the ceiling then let them fall down to his sides. Looking behind him to make sure Blake didn't return yet, he reached backwards and scratched his ass. God, he'd been holding that in forever.
Looking around, he finally began to study the older man's house. Now that he didn't feel prying eyes upon him from every angle. He heard a toilet flush in the background, and realized what exactly Blake seemed so pissy and concerned about as he rushed away a few minutes ago. Looking back, he took notice of the soft blue walls, just a few hairs away from plain white. A ceiling fan spun away on low above him, a round light from the center providing most of the room's visibility at this point. A deer head gazed at him from the right wall, and on its five-point antlers hung a pair of keys. They looked old and smudged, and Norman had guessed they weren't used for a good while.
"My first buck…Well, my only buck…."
Jayden jolted, and his heart hammered away inside his ribcage as he turned his head to watch Carter nonchalantly walk back into his kitchen and living room. He only but cast a glance at the younger man as he walked in, noticing he was standing upright, and could see the fine contours of the kid's ass through his underwear. It didn't inspire any arousing thoughts so much as he simply took notice, and looked away in the most casual heterosexual way he could.
"Oh, I'm sorry…Uh- I just didn't see you as the hunting type-"
"I wasn't. I never was. My old man was, though. He saw it as a ritual to 'becoming a man' Fucking redneck…"
Parting his lips as he looked back, the other man was now only a few feet to his side, peering at the head along with him.
"If you hated it so much, why'd you keep it?"
Watching with curiosity, the other man shrugged his shoulders and tilted his head back as if examine the dead animal's steely gaze.
"What, and just throw it away? It makes a nice key rack…"
Something soft was forced into his arms, and he looked down in surprise to find Carter handing him a pair of black sweat pants, folded neatly and obviously just out of the dryer. They were toasty warm, almost so much that it was too hot to handle.
"Here- I don't feel like staring at your scrawny legs all day."
Norman found himself caught between being offended and being thankful, so he reached up and took the pants, giving him an annoyed look, but issuing a "Thanks" out of common courtesy. Carter walked away without another word, back into his bedroom it appeared this time. Taking the sweatpants by the elastic waist, he let the rest fall down and stretch out as he admired the size. Easily big enough for him, in fact he'd go so far as to say they wore the same basic pant size. He slipped them on, one leg and then the other, simply loving the warmth from the dryer as he slipped them on and pulled them up over his waist.
Thinking back to the deer head, Norman knew that Carter hadn't told him the whole truth. There was far more then that to his desire to keep around an old, dusty trophy like that. Jayden himself had shot and killed several crows when he was a child with a small BB gun. He actually did mean to do it- yet he felt bad instantly after the third or fourth one. Ever since then, he never did it again. The gun got taken away from him when his parents found out. He could actually imagine Blake's father being the old-fashioned sort, taking his son out and teaching him how to "be a man" and that the only way to do it was to take another life.
Yet there was more to that then his little "makes a good key rack" cock-and-bull story. Had he wanted to remember his father? Something about Blake made him think this wasn't the case at all. Jayden could read people fairly easily, even before he became a psychologist. That particular education only making him better at it. His profile of the older man was growing by the minute, gathered from the way he carried himself, talked, behaved, and even the way his eyes moved in their orbits. A highly dominant male with psychotic, possibly manic-depressive or bipolar tendencies. He had to admit he hadn't seen Blake's lows yet, only his 'highs', his quick temper tantrums and general inability to sympathize with his victims.
It spoke to Norman as a man who had a rocky childhood, and by 'rocky', he was using a rather generalized, polite way to say he thought Carter was treated like shit. Yet he wasn't the first and only- so Norman's sympathy only went so deep. He could only feel so sorry for the other man. Children were abused everyday, but never turn out like him. Actually, Norman thought back to the two possible powder kegs that formed a serial killer. One was upbringing, the other was genetics. Genetic meaning, usually, a mental disorder passed down through the generations. Not always visible, sometimes it lurked in gene pools until it found the right trigger and reared it's vicious head. Laying in wait like a predator after it's own kind.
Actually, it was Blake's behavior that helped stir his suspicion of him possibly being the Origami Killer. He didn't toy with it long, and when he went out to question the cop in his own precinct, he found himself shot down in flames with the realization that he simply didn't have enough evidence to convict the lieutenant of being a child killer. Looking back, he wished he had taken it a step further…He'd still be alive! If only because his ass would have been sent back to Washington quicker then the door swinging shut in Perry's office.
'Never would have had the time, anyway…' Jayden mentally kicked himself in the ass for seriously even considering Blake as a suspect. 'He's a police lieutenant. Never would have been able to set all that up with his busy life. Not creative enough, either.'
Continuing to gaze around the room, he took note of the pictures sitting on a small shelf in the corner. He glanced back at the hallway, seeing Blake doing something in his room that must have been rather consuming, seeing as he hadn't come out for a good five minutes. Walking closer, he spied a picture of an older man that looked so eerily like Carter himself, he had to squint and look closer to try and see if the man simply kept pictures of himself in frames about his house. But no- this man looked happy, and wore a causal pair of blue jeans and a white shirt that clung to his torso. Not to mention, he had had three kids next to him, two boys and a girl.
The girl looked seven or so, the left boy more like ten, the other easily in his early teens. Both of them seemed to carry their father's looks, only the little girl had what appeared to be a head of golden hair that flowed to her shoulders in a straight, curtain-style haircut. Yet she had her father's eyes, a trait that seemed to be very dominant in this particular gene pool. Both kids honestly looked quite happy to have their pictures taken, the little boy in his father's lap as his hand rested on the back of his girl, whom had a large smile on her face. The young teenage boy sat to thee right, his arm draped around his father's shoulder with a hint of a smile on his lips. He was an attractive young man with a sharp face and lean body.
It was actually very surreal- it looked like an ideal version of Blake himself. Only a very few amount of things, like face shape, and the way the man wore his hair signified any real difference.
'A brother.' Jayden told himself. 'Somewhere bizarro-world Blake is running around with a wonderful family, happy as a clam. Never would have guessed that…'
Another picture to the right of that one, a longer frame that sat horizontally on its side, showed the two together. Now that Jayden saw the differences between the two side-to-side, they looked only slightly less then twins. Carter was much rougher in appearance to his older brother, and if he didn't know better from the increase in gray from the other's hair, he'd swear that Carter was the older one. His unbalanced, asymmetrical face and baggy eyes showing his hard life on the surface. The brother didn't have this, and looked more like a purified, untainted version. The other 'Carter' had his arm wrapped around the other one, amber beer bottles in hand as they looked at the camera. Blake looked slightly irritated, but smirked for the picture, regardless.
Jayden's psychological profile of Blake was still coming right along, configuring it right under his nose. Everything from the way he talked, moved, even drank his beer. It was the younger man's natural talent, and it never shut itself off. Not even when he was dead. He could fathom that as a child, Carter Blake had a rather fearsome set of parents, at least in terms of a father, though he'd seen cases where mothers could be just as bad.
So why was Carter's brother so untouched? Surely, if he profile was right, they'd seem about the same in personality. Right? Christ, he didn't know for sure. He had seen some cases where criminals came from a broken home, serial killers with a deadly psyche hidden underneath cold, collective demeanors. It was true what they said- that the quiet ones where the ones to watch out for. Aggressive people like Carter tended to unleash their demons on a daily basis, instead of keeping them inside. You never saw the quiet ones coming until you caught them with a body gutted, bleeding in their shower stall-
"You know what's a real shitter?" He heard Blake's voice cut through the fog in his head.
He was standing in his kitchen as he fired off the words, the sound of dishes clanking in the sink, as he seemed to be washing them.
"Same guy that did that? The deer head? Fucking…Found him with a whole bunch of bodies in his upstairs bedroom. Shit you not. Ever heard of 'The Taxidermist'?"
For a moment, Jayden was too stunned to talk, then he quickly realized what he meant. Yeah- a good year or so ago. Right out of Philly, not that he remembered all the details. After all, he was a busy man. It was too grandiose and macabre a story to forget, or ignore completely. Four bodies…Or rather, four skins of young ladies draped over mannequins, positioned according to Leland White's sick fantasies. If he remembered correctly, he was cut to bits by the one Madison Paige with a chainsaw. Quite the way to go.
"Wait…You were there? At The Taxidermist case?"
For some reason, Jayden didn't even think about it. Of course! Why wouldn't he? Carter was the top police lieutenant for Philadelphia's homicide division. Still, it seemed odd to Jayden that he was involved in such a huge, unusual murder investigation without ever hearing him in the news reports.
"Yeah, that fine piece of ass, what's her name…Fucking…Paige, yeah, the same one that saved Mars' ass at the warehouse. The one that almost ran me over with her chopper…She got all the credit for that shit. Never mind we were pinning the Origami case on him as it was- we would have found him sooner or later. Instead, she had to stick her nose in 'it and kill the son of a bitch. Now we'll never get to find out where he dumped the 'rest of em. Or how many other girls he killed."
Jayden tilted his head- he'd already forgotten to ask Blake about how the case was going. Normally he'd be a bit more obsessed with the case's outcome, yet being dead took first priority in this particular instance.
"How's the-"
"The guy was just a fuck'n kid, too…" Carter had started to talk before Norman even opened his mouth, cancelling him out.
"We were about the same age. His dad was helping him- Shit, it was so fucked up when we found out. He looked so normal, never would have guessed he'd turn out to be so fucked in the head…"
A loud clang, and Jayden winced, walking in his direction when he realized how rude he was being by not offering to help. By the time he got in, though, he noticed the other man was already done. You didn't have many dishes to wash when you were alone. He piled them into a small pile on top of a beige towel on the end of the sink so they could drip-dry. That bothered him- Norman was anything but a neat man, yet he was a bit OCD with things just being let to sit without being tended to properly.
"I'll dry those for you." He said, watching Carter turn around and give him an up-and-down stare.
"Knock yourself out."
Jayden snuck in next to the salt-and-pepper-haired man. Brushing shoulders with him and sending a small bit of a chill up to his neck. He stiffened, but went on as though nothing had happened. Glancing over, he watched as Blake finished washing his hands, walking over to the cabinet as he opened the doors with a very slight squeak to the hinges.
Hurriedly, Norman compensated for Carter's fast work, and dried a dish off with a hand-towel, handing the blue-glazed plate over towards him. Putting them in the cabinet one-by-one, the five plates and a few, short, stout drinking glasses were done. Reacting out of instinct, Norman grabbed the towel and headed off towards where his clothes pantry would be, then stopped.
"Where do you put-"
"It's not even that dirty, put it back by the sink." He muttered, walking past him and putting a hand on his shoulder out of accomplishment.
"Thanks, by the way."
A bit taken aback, he swallowed as he watched him walk by, towards his couch as he took a seat.
"…Sure, no problem."
Walking back and putting the towel back on its small rack, he scanned the small kitchen for anything he could do to make his presence less bothersome. It was rather bland, certainly more so then his own kitchen back in Washington. It was obvious to Jayden that the man's favorite color was blue, just about everything being that color in one shade or another. At least the cupboards were white, small windows of glass inside to display the dishes that sat within. The counter was a slate black, made of the cheaper wood with a stainless steel sink inside and to the right. There was a large white fridge to the right, magnets holding up pieces of paper of various importance.
A large magnetic calendar was taking up the top portion, where the freezer would be. A set of black, red and blue dry-erase markers positioned to the side. Several dates were marked, a doctor's appointment at the end of the month. An oil change in the middle of next week. A few meetings with people whose names eluded him. On a few rare days, almost never weekends, were marked "OFF", one of which was today. Workaholic, much? Even Jayden found himself having the weekends off, and he thought he was bad…
Squinting closer, he noticed a few credit bill payments applied with magnets. A Visa, a Discover…And the amounts were all pretty low. His own bills would be covered by his life insurance; at least the US government didn't fuck around with things like that. Scanning to the right, a few numbers on post-its stuck to the top, some names male, some female. The female ones had a smiley face on them. He smiled at this a bit, booty-calls? Literally? They looked old, the paper dotted with clear spots that appeared to be grease stains, the paper from below beginning to curl.
There were a couple articles from a newspaper sticking up, one for the Origami Killer, another a yellowed newspaper ad from years back. LIEUTENANT BREAKS CASE plastered on top, a picture of Perry with Blake imbedded in the center, Perry's hand planted firmly on his shoulder. He didn't feel the need to stand there and read it, but from the rather happy expression on his face, he could tell it was a proud moment in the man's life.
Then there was one picture of a younger man this time. His light brown eyes shown under heavy, tired brows. Norman only noticed this because the flash seemed to illuminate the irises, displaying an almost catatonic image. Like a lifetime lived in fear. Possessing the same hair as Blake, course, black and easily parted on each side. He was only a touch thinner and his smile was subtle. Looking into the camera as he sat on some steps, he seemed to smirk at the camera in that eerily familiar way.
'Another one?'
"Who's this?" Norman found himself asking, already regretting bringing it up.
There was a pause, then he heard the leather of the couch shift as he looked up to see Blake positioning himself in order to see better. His eyes narrowed only slightly as he saw Norman staring at the picture of his younger brother. Someone he'd help fund under the table ever since he was forced out of his house when he turned nineteen.
He'd consider him a freeloader; if it wasn't for the fact he knew Lawrence had some real problems. Unlike his older brother, he had been around to see the full force of his father's abilities to find all sorts of ways to harm other human beings. He'd had a hard time holding a job, let alone a decent carrier.
"My younger brother…" Carter drawled out, looking back towards the TV. He had hoped that was the end of the conversation-
"What's his name?"
'Shut the fuck up Norman, it's dead and buried, I don't need to explain-'
"Larry. He lives up in Reading…I don't really like to talk about him."
"Oh…"
Norman submitted, putting his hands in the sweatpants' pockets. He felt a stab in his heart, not literally, but it might has well been. Blake's tone had been in warning, and he knew better then to push further. Sure, he could have been more pressing. Could have asked him why he was so precarious about his brother- yet didn't. He'd heard Blake mad before, heard him on the verge of practically murdering him. Yet there was no doubt that he would actually do it if he pressed this particular issue. It was a tense air in the room, an actual frightening edge that told Jayden he had asked too much.
"Sorry, I just…I just miss my own, that's all. Haven't seen by brothers in a while."
The lieutenant didn't respond, instead he flipped through the channels like a mindless robot looking for nothing in particular. Swallowing his fear, the agent made his way closer and looked down at the ARI as it sat haphazardly on the coffee table. Biting his bottom lip, he looked from them and back up to Blake as he analyzed his odd, forced relax stance. His right hand holding up his head as it sat on the armrest, the other hand flipping through the channels.
"I didn't mean to upset-"
"Shut up- I fucking mean it. Sit down."
Jayden went to open his mouth, then gave up, instead plopping down in the spot Blake had sat during the game. Sure, he was mad, he was irritated, he wanted to yell. In fact, it took everything possible for him not to push the issue further. He didn't deserve to be talked to like that- he was only asking about his brother…In a respectable way, he thought.
There was a small silence, then Carter looked up towards the clock, noticing it was only twenty-after ten. He knew the little massage would make him too tired, and he'd probably want to fall asleep right afterwards. Though he assumed that he could also just turn in early, get a good start tomorrow.
"I…" Jayden started, then looked towards Blake as if to ask permission, then noticed his face had calmed somewhat.
"I…just wanted to ask…What ever happened with the Origami Killer-"
A small "bring" emitted from Blake's bedroom, and like that he was interrupted again. Perking up, Blake looked backward in a whale-eye fashion, then glanced back to Jayden as he gave him a judgmental glare as he seemed to be trying to tell him that he "had to get that".
Another ring, and he watched as Blake got up and jogged towards his bedroom. He defiantly was one not to ever let his job at work, and as he made his way towards his room, he stubbed his toe harshly on the doorway. Jayden even winced at the sound, the collision of bone, flesh and wooden doorway very audible and painful to the ears.
"Aw fuck! Hello!?" He breathed out with a huge bought of delayed pain and frustration, simultaneously answering the phone.
Norman couldn't stop the laugh from bursting forth, and not a cute laugh. It was loud and obnoxious, and he could see a glint of Carter's annoyed stare from the back of his room. Putting a hand to his mouth to stifle it, he got up and edged towards the door to hear their conversation better. Carter turned around and looked towards his nightstand, noting the time.
"Stubbed my toe...Yeah" A few minutes past, and it was obvious that he was listening to something of great interest, nodding occasionally "…The Kramer place? No shit…No, no we'll shoot for tomorrow…Yeah, I know. Fucking weather let up, at least…Yeah, first thing…Shit, what a mess…No…Yeah, fucking tie, can't believe that shit…Yeah, next time…Yeah, Gary, too…"
Blake walked away from his bedroom, moving towards the living room and giving the other man a quick glance as he reached his hand out and seemed to wordlessly ask for the remote. Though Norman didn't quite get this at first and looked at him strangely as the more muscular, threatening man above him held the cell phone to his ear, doing his best to keep up the conversation without speaking to the other. Irritated, Blake quickly shot his arm out and just snatched the remote from his hands, in which Jayden stink-eyed him as he moved towards the TV.
"…Say it's on now?…Yeah, channel six?"
The TV moved from the Video On Demand movie selection screen to the local news, where a blond-haired woman stood with a microphone in front of the Kramer mansion.
"Right…Yeah, I know, like fucking vultures…Hey, I can see you…"
Norman watched as he saw the gray-clothed detective walk out into the front lawn, holding a cell-phone to his ear as he seemed to now be aware there was a camera on him. He waved a little, which made both of the men give a short laugh in their throat.
"Ha- yeah I see you, shit-head. You trying to look like a little twat, or what?"
The friendly wave turned to a middle finger.
"…Much better. Yeah, that's gonna go down real well with- Haha- yeah I know, who gives a shit, right? Perry thinks his shit 'don't stink, anyway."
Another pause, and Norman watched as Ash walked off-screen, talking away as Carter listened.
"Uh-huh…Yeah, sounds about right."
Silence, Norman strained his ears the best he could as he tried to listen in on their conversation.
"Christ, this shit-hole's deeper then I thought….Right, well, I'll leave you to get back to that cluster-fuck you got going on…Haha- yeah, asshole. Real sure. See you tomorrow…"
Hanging up, he pulled the phone away and clapped it shut. The two halves neatly smacking against one another as he flung it onto the table. Pointing to the TV with the clicker, he turned the volume up and took a seat next to the agent without much thought or a single degree of hesitation.
"There was a massacre at this rich asshole's place…Ever hear of Kramer Construction?"
Jayden considered, then remembered seeing a commercial for it on the local channel as he watched this very same news program when he first arrived in Philadelphia. They seemed incredibly professional, the commercial itself being a step above the normal low-level of quality of the average local business. Kramer himself didn't star in the ad, but for some reason Jayden anticipated he'd be seeing plenty of the older man's face soon enough.
"Yeah, I saw an ad when I got here."
"Well, it doesn't matter now. He's dead, and so are all his body guards. Guy fuckin' had over eighteen of the goons crawling all over the estate. They're all dead, every last one. Shot clean every time. They traced the bullet to a gun that was supposed to be impounded for evidence. They think it was Scott's…It's starting to unravel, now."
The cop looked towards the other man, watching his mouth part in slight surprise, his gaze looking out towards the TV as the coverage ended and went back to the anchor at his desk, Glenn Sanders. The guy always crept him out, he had some weird, lifeless eyes…
"Did they find him?"
Blake nodded, watching as the agent across from him followed his movement, nodding a little in understanding.
"…Turns out he was getting close to the mother of one of his victims- she found out about his little secret and shot him dead last night. Clean shot. She'll probably be let go. I don't know what jury could convict her, if you ask me. Hell, I'll testify for her…"
Getting up, making a grumbling noise as he did so, Jayden squinted in his usual way as he considered this.
"You would?"
"Yeah, 'lie if I have to. I would have did it myself if I'd seen him."
Remaining silent, Norman bit his bottom lip as he squinted towards the left, analyzing some unimportant shelf in the corner. The agent knew he should have been happier. His own murderer (or he had assumed he was killed by the man in his final moments, it was a reasonable assessment as far as he was concerned) was dead, yet his own desire to right the wrongs he saw his whole time in Philly made the situation bittersweet. He should have been arrested, questioned, trialed and put away. It was the law, and his whole life had been about following said law to the very letter. Liberty, order, justice…democracy. Things he was always taught were the most important things in life; things he genuinely still believed in.
'Well, at least I know what happened. I wonder how well they knew each other?'
Watching Blake make his way to his bedroom, and he once again heard the sound of some rummaging around.
"Did…you know Scott Shelby?" He yelled, hoping he wouldn't cause another awkward moment.
There was a pause in the rummaging, and Norman's hackles rose as he anticipated another harsh smack of intolerance from the master of his reality.
"Sure did. Used to be partners. If it wasn't for him I'd be dead."
He said the last few words in a huff, and sounded to be lifting something up. Norman looked back as he watched, and took notice of the man's strong arm muscles flex beneath his skin. He could tell even back on the Origami Killer case that he had a good set of guns beneath his sleeves. That didn't mean he wasn't un-expectantly impressed by his physique. His biceps were round, and the bulged as he moved the box to a top shelf. Pushing it in, Jayden took another notice of his subtly-thick arm hair covering his forearms.
A grunt, and Blake slid the box further back. Resting back on his heels, he looked back towards Jayden, whom met his gaze with an almost bored look.
"Shit, really?"
"It's a long story, everyone on the force is expected to do everything they can…But Scott…" He paused, watching as Blake reached up and ran his hand through his hair in thought.
"Scott actually…Cared. He could have chased the guy, the son of a bitch that stabbed me- but he stayed with me until the ambulance came. EMS said if he wasn't keeping me awake, I probably would have croaked right there." He made a gesture with his hand, indicating a "cut" to the left to the right.
"…And you'd still shoot him-"
"-If he wasn't already dead? Right 'betwin the eyes. Dead center."
The smirk on his lips mirrored the smirk in his voice, and Norman just gave him the strangest look. A tilt to his eyes, his brows furrowed and generally confused. 'Shoot a man that saved his life?'
"Really? Wouldn't even…attempt to take him in for questi'neen?"
"Nope." Blake breathed out along with a sigh, putting his hands on his hips as he moved from current stance, back towards his bathroom.
"Why?" The agent questioned, getting up and walking around the couch to ask him. He was starting to unravel the mystery that was Blake, and it was getting interesting.
"Well, you see there, Norman…I don't do real well when someone decides to fuck with my trust, you know?"
He spoke with a hurt in his voice, and Norman felt actually rather frightened. Like he was treading into deadly, forbidden territory. So, he tread lightly, following the man to he entered his bathroom in his connecting bedroom.
"So, when Shelby decided to fuck with me, fuck with my men, fuck with the children in this city? Yeah, he knew what was going to happen if I ever found out. He knew it just as much as anybody ever could. You fuck with me -I fuck back."
Norman felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up, and yet couldn't help but let a nervous laugh make it's way out. Leaning on the doorway of the lieutenant's bathroom door, he scanned the small, white-stuccoed room with a large shower stall. A few clothes sat in a pile on the right against the wall. A blue button-up, long sleeved shirt, and his pair of black slacks. The smell of sweat vaguely hung in the air, strangely enough it wasn't entirely unpleasant. It smelled instead of masculinity.
"…Fuck back?" The younger man posed, smiling wide as he watched him lean over his small sink, getting out his tooth brush and applying the toothpaste.
"Yeah- that goes for you too, Norman."
His face drained of color as he looked away, hearing the other man put the toothbrush in his mouth and start brushing away vigorously. Obviously, he didn't mean it in a sexual way in the previous statement, and it certainly wasn't meant that way towards him. Or wasn't it? Was he seeing something that wasn't really there?
Only two men were in Jayden's life, that didn't include all favors he'd given out- but ones he was intimate with. They didn't mean much, and after he'd slept with them and got bored, they parted ways. Ever since he started his job at the FBI, he'd hadn't had sex for years. Too much work, not enough play. Masturbating was a rare chore then a moment of pleasure, something he used to relieve stress more then gain some sort of gratification.
Looking down at the floor, he felt his face return color, yet still hid beneath his pale, ghostly skin. He hoped desperately he wouldn't have anymore withdrawal symptoms. They could rise to the point where it would be impossible to gain relief. What the hell was he supposed to do? He didn't have any tripto on him, there was some at his house…Shit, that was it! When Blake went to D.C, he could get it back-
'Then what? It will only last so long. How you going to get more?'
Shaking his head, he sighed and looked away as the tyrant of a man opened his medicine cabinet to rummage through it. Norman gave him some privacy, walking towards his bedroom and looking about. The room was a terra-cotta color, and lit in a low, amber light by a white-domed glass fixture from the ceiling fan above. He was actually quite surprised it was rather nice- not dull or bare-bones. Not really resembling a bachelor pad like the other places he's visited.
Before he could look over it further, he heard Blake walk towards him. Immediately, he felt his hair stand on end as the electricity that was Carter Blake filled the room. He gave Norman a sideways glance as he walked right on by, bee-lining towards his nightstand where he appeared to be setting his alarm clock. Jayden noticed he had taken his shirt off, and swallowed as his throat went dry. Looking away before he could take his appearance all in, he had a strangely attractive build for a man his age. A shiver went up his spine, and he took a deep breath.
"Alright, let's get this show on the road." It came out more in irritation, not a hint of lust in his voice. More a chore then the act of comfort and humiliation it was meant to be.
Turning around, the older man eyed the kid as he looked away from his shirtless physique. Almost teasingly, he reached up and scratched the top left of his chest. A small lopsided smirk formed on his lips, and a small flutter of excitement developed in his stomach.
"Don't get any ideas, either. This isn't a date."
Walking towards him, he watched the kid visibly shudder and take a few steps back. Taking his seat on the edge of the bed, he rolled his shoulders in their sockets and gave Norman a squint and a nod, trying to look up into his unsure eyes from a few feet away.
"Well? I'm waiting, FBI."
A few seconds went by that felt more like minutes, and Norman followed suit as he rolled his own shoulders, taking a deep breath and walking behind the lieutenant, trying not to look at him. Even making eye contact with the other man would have been too much at the moment. He reached up and decided to take Blake's advice and take off his tie, loosening it as he pulled it off his neck as fast as he could. Flinging it to the side, he felt the bed dip down substantially as he put one knee onto the mattress and hear the springs squeak.
'God, only Carter could think of something this fucked up. He's just doing this shit to embarrass me…I should have never took this bet., I'm such an idiot! Shit- wait, no he's gotta do my back, too. I bet he does it half-ass…"
Blake craned his neck backward as he tried to catch a glimpse of the hot-shot agent being his little masseuse for the evening. Oh, this was going to be classic. For a brief minute he considered if this made him gay- then pushed it aside. Who gave a fuck? It was satisfying, besides, it wasn't meant to be sexual. He found it fun to humiliate the shit out of the agent while he tended to his needs. Even if it meant he'd be doing the same thing after he was done. Though he would be harsh, unforgiving, practically breaking his back in the effort. Nancy boy, here? He would demand a quality job- he looked like he could barely even apply enough pressure to satisfy him.
Jayden hesitated behind Blake for good reason. He sat there on his knees as his lips drew into a straight line. His hands lay on the bed, standing on all fours as he moved himself forward in shifting motions, hearing the bed respond to every movement. Blake's back was like a map- covered in marks and scars from just about every shape. There were a few moles here and there- some he'd swear would be cancerous if it wasn't for the fact they looked about as old as the man himself. There were large, smooth patches that were obviously scars. Some were large, irregular circles. Others were lines that came in all sorts of varying lengths. There looked to be a few indentations that Norman recognized as bullet scars, including one not far from where his heart and lungs would be.
The biggest, most identifying feature where his muscles. They curved and bulged from his skin, the epidermis itself being rather taught for a man his age. It looked slightly paler then his face, neck and arms, but he appeared to have more a of a natural, slightly darker skin tone. It There were no bulges of fat, no loose skin, only the expected, roughened and callous surface one would expect from a seasoned cop.
Squinting, Norman looked to his right shoulder. There was a tattoo there, one he hadn't noticed until that very second. It was of a large, powerful brown pit bull with cuffs hanging from it's mouth, and a collar about it's neck- chain broken in a dramatic fashion. It's exposed teeth clutched around the links of the cuffs, snarling and dripping with blood. It's legs were out in a running motion, like it was leaping towards the observer. The words "CHAINED DOWN" were above the dog, and "BROKE FREE" were below in intricate letters.
'Hol-ee shit.' Jayden blinked, his face stoic as he noticed how faded and worn the ink looked. Small strands of hair grew out if it, almost masking the vicious art entirely. Then he noticed another on his left bicep, and craned his neck that way to see it. That one was a scorpion, albeit smaller and looked even older. Leaning back, he scanned his body for more ink, somehow finding the whole situation to be rather amusing. To his right he finally noticed the most recent- less faded then the others. A badge with it's numbers clearly visible, an eagle above it, clutching it with it's talons as it's wings were outspread. It was large and took up part of his bicep. Yet it was only in black and white, and had several "strikes" below it, about four, in the shape of crudely drawn Xs.
Blake craned his neck as he felt himself irritated at the small wait- he made a small growl in his throat as he tried to see what the fuck was taking so long.
"What, you jerking off back there? What I'd tell you about that?"
Jayden squinted, scowling comfortably now that he didn't have to worry about the other man seeing him react.
"I was just, uh…Your tattoos. I always thought law enforcement looked down on those sorts of things."
A small shrug became apparent on the other man's muscular shoulders, and he sighed loudly as he seemed rather impatient that the backrub wasn't currently taking place.
"Start 'workin and I'll start 'talkin."
Looking forward, he heard a sigh behind him in response as he heard the bed shift. A pair of strong, soft hands found their way onto his shoulders, and he tensed in response. He let out a moan that traveled high to low, and a full tremble made it's way from his strong shoulders to his large, thick toes. They curled a little, then sunk into the floor as they took up his socks. 'Should take those off. They're dirty as fuck.'
Then those oddly soft, pleasant hands sunk into his flesh as he grabbed his muscles- moving his thumb and forefingers in just the right way as he sought to manipulate the sinew in such a manner as loosen it, untie it from it's hard, taught nature. Another moan of satisfaction filled his throat, rumbling out as Jayden felt it transpire through the air and into his own chest. It made a chill creep up the back of his neck, but he swallowed, as to put it out of his mind and forced on.
The man's voice sounded frightening even when being comforted, unwound. It felt like he was massaging a tiger deep in slumber, waiting for it to awaken and rip his arm off. Jayden shook at the image, flashing through as he envisioned Blake doing the very same, in a terrifying way he didn't put it past the psychopathic lieutenant to turn on him like the why fire hops it's way out of an open furnace, taking a building down in frightening minutes. Reducing it to ash as it burns and cripples everything it touches. Yet it never happened, instead, Jayden focused on making the crazed cop in front of him feel fantastic- in hopes it would soothe the savage beast. Douse the fire. Satisfy his needs so that his own could be shortly thereafter.
His skin was rough, not dry or unpleasant, ectzma-laden or sweaty, though it was a bit hairy. At least Blake wasn't covered in the black, course strands. His back was relatively clear though his arms and chest were lined with it to a small degree. Instead it felt rather leathery, tested by his work and strenuous life. Yet his fingers didn't resist the tough and uneven hide, they sunk right in. His muscles so hard and unaccepting, yet yielding to his surprisingly strong hands, and submitted to his ministrations.
He'd given massages here and there, of course. Nothing fancy. Hell, he'd slept with a few woman in his life, back when he was confused about his sexuality and decided to experiment. Sure, it wasn't half bad, and in reality he may even be considered more a bisexual then a straight man, but he didn't seek them out, not even after that. He gave them some nice, taught back rubs before bedding them- and found it was a nice way to loosen someone up. The woman he wanted to impress- the men he wanted to dominate. Norman was doing his best to apply his lessons learned to the powerful creature before him, even if it was a world away from a sheepish girl at his feet.
"Mmmm- nice." Carter hummed under his breath, closing his eyes as he felt the kid's hands sink like a hot knife through butter, disappearing into his muscles as he grabbed even tighter, rolling his shoulders in his palms as he moved up and down his absolutely constricted tissue groups.
Leaning his head back, he let the ex-agent work. Feeling his body tense up from a man's touch, he received an even tighter squeeze as Norman's hands clasped over his bestial shoulders.
"Loosen up, Cartah." Norman's breath sounded in his ear, the hot and humid air telling him the man had gotten too close- and it made the other man uncomfortable, reacting negatively as he pulled away and threw the other man a scowl.
"My God, you're tense. I can't do this if you're gonna tighten up every time I start to get'chu relaxed."
Seeing an irritated glance in the young man's face, surprisingly, it made him want to cooperate instead of fight. He sat back down, and took a deep breath as he puffed his chest out, held it, and let it go along with waves of heated tension he felt for life in general. Letting those muscles relax, fall into their natural places. The young man behind him heard this, and felt the skin become like putty in his hands.
Moving easier now, Jayden began to massage his shoulders harder this time. Despite the awkward air that filled the room, he ignored it and sought to work deeper. His thumbs worked under his shoulder muscles, pressing hard into the crevices back there and unwinding centuries of neglect.
"So- what's this one back here?" Jayden sought, trying to make this as normal as possible.
"It looks old."
Almost forgetting his casual agreement to talk, he perked up and leaned a little backward as the kid moved downward, pressing his fingers into his back as his fingers and traveled down his sides. He wasn't expecting that, and tensed again, only to unwind once more seconds later.
"Got it when I was twenty." He mused, rolling his shoulders as an uncomfortable tingle lit up his neck when Jayden went lower.
"…I finally moved out of my father's house. Couldn't fucking wait. I joined the force, got enough cash and flew right out of there."
"Went right out and got that. I had it re-touched once, but I haven't been back for a while."
Nodding, Jayden felt an especially tight spot about halfway down his back. Bringing his right elbow up, he put as much force behind it as he could as he forced it hard into the crevice. Holding onto the fierce lieutenant for leverage with his left hand, his fingers clutched into his bicep harshly as he boldly sought to correct Blake's wrought and ill-attended back.
"MMhhhmmph!" He heard from the other man, stifling a cry the best he could.
"-So fucking wound up…" Blake caught him say as he pressed even harder, feeling him force forward and writhe with a small amount of pain.
"You were right, Blake. Christ, how can you walk around like this all day? 'Must be killi'an yah."
A small amount of sweat began to form on his brow, wiggling his shoulders as he felt himself being dominated by the younger man behind him. Instead of being angry, he found it instead rather welcoming. He knew the kid was right, that he had a stressful, tired life that almost never had a break. Going to a chiropractor? Oh, he could laugh at that. If it wasn't a life-or-death decision he didn't do it. If it didn't kill him that day- he was fine with it. Ten years down the line? Five? He'd consider it.
Someone hadn't touched him like that in ages. An old flame, and she was long gone. He knew that was never going to happen again. It was odd to have someone who actually cared about him, even if it was another man. A man he honestly could say he wasn't the biggest fan of. A pain in the ass, a know-it-all, hotshot, pompous little fuck who rubbed him the wrong way every chance he could. Carter was convinced it was intentional, too.
For a few sweet minutes, he let himself not be the one in control. It felt pretty good, the other man's muscles adding to the force behind the ministrations, the alterations to his spine and muscles. Rearranging, cracking, putting things back into place that had long been causing him discomfort. He wasn't sure what to feel, how to react, but all he knew was that it felt…Right. Not as fucked up as he thought it would be, the awkward air in the room long since being breathed in and consumed by their hungry lungs.
The girl that gave him a back massage all those years ago couldn't compare. She wasn't strong enough to do this, to actually fix that had been broken.
"Ahh-ahhh!" Carter let out a low exclamation, biting his bottom lip as he felt the kid's skilled hands move along his spine, finding a piece of his vertebrae slightly out of place, shimming it back in just a smidgeon.
"Shit, watch it-"
"Sorrah, Carter." Norman said in a husky, tired voice. Sweat was beginning to form on his own brow, breathing hard as he grew tired from the force needed.
"It's probably not gonna 'get any bettah, though."
Blake twitched and shifted his shoulders a little. Really? Shouldn't this had been more pleasant then rotating his spine around?
"Who taught you to fuck with a man's back like that, anyway?"
There as a pause, and for a second he felt Norman's hand stop. He was surprised how disappointed he found himself in those lonely few minutes.
"My dad's friend was a chiropractor. Liked to play golf together…He'd give them to me free to our family all the time."
A small laugh formed in his lungs, and it moved his torso slightly as he chuckled more in his chest then in his throat. A smile crept onto his peaked, dry lips, and he couldn't help but comment.
"Oh yeah? Did he give 'ya a happy ending, too?"
In response, a small sarcastic guffaw erupted from Norman's lips as he began to start again, working his lower back and making the man in front of him make a low, lovely growl. It made the ex-agent's insides quiver and his neck tingle at that reaction.
"They're not the same thing. He just moves your spine around, a masseuse works your muscles…I'm trying to do a little of both. You're all fucked up back here-"
"So, he didn't give you a hand-job? What a waste."
Norman smiled wide, his teeth showing like a drunken fool as his face flashed red. His eyes shifted down to a half-lidded position, feeling relaxed himself with the older, scarier unbalanced man before him set into a sated state of mind.
"And the others?" He posed, moving his left hand to boldly massage the man's left bicep, indicating his need to want to talk about his scorpion tattoo.
"…First one."
"Ah." Norman mused. "What's it suppos' to rep-rehsant?"
"This girl I was with…" He hesitated, realizing the venerable position he was being put in.
"…She hated the things-"
"What, scorp'beans or tattoos?" He said that in a huskier tone, making the man before him blush a little in recognition. Usually, when someone talked like that…They were doing something a bit more nasty.
Blake then winced as he punctuated that with a harsh push to his kidneys, using his left shoulder as leverage as he pushed in, moving sinew out if the way as he put them delicately back where they supposedly belonged.
He growled low in his chest, yet in a way that was obviously more from reaction then to a threat.
"S-Scorpions. Fuck…" He reacted, shifting his back under the other man's touch. He was no stranger to pain, but none of this was expected from the kid. Every time he tried to relax, the other man would do something both painful yet oddly refreshing. He knew it would hurt for days, but in the end he would be better off for it. Or at least, he hoped. He'd never had it done before, but he'd known people who had.
"So, you got a Scorp'bean because she hated them?"
"I was trying to get rid of her…" He mumbled, secretly hoping Norman wouldn't talk anymore about his old flames.
"She was a bit of the…'stalker' type."
"The crazy bitch type?" Jayden confirmed, and he heard the other man snicker once more at the memory.
"You're more down to Earth then I thought, Norman. Yeah- that's about right. I thought it looked pretty badass, too. That doesn't hurt."
"I was always under the assumption that cops usually couldn't get tattoos." Norman retaliated, "It makes them look intim'adaten."
A sigh, then Carter answered. "As long as they don't show…Besides, does it really look I give a shit? Who's gonna stop me?"
Stone-faced, the agent furrowed his brow at the other man's attitude. Carter really was like an unstoppable force. Something told him that even he was still alive after the Origami Killer case and went back to file a report- he wouldn't be fired, at the most suspended with pay. Carter had obviously been there for a long time, and it would have taken a whole hell of a lot to get the aggressive cop off the force. He didn't know why or how he was able to keep his job for so long. Captain Perry could only do so much. The fact that he made it to lieutenant was enough of a shock to the young, dead man.
Jayden separated from his back, leaning away as he took a step to the left and stepped on the floor.
"I need you to lay down." He indicated, cheeks flushing red.
Looking back in response, the older male made a disgusted, perplexed look as his lip tilted on a slant.
"What? What the hell you planning-"
"You want me to stop? Make up your mind- just remember everything I do, you've bettah be return'en."
Scraping his top teeth over his lower lip, he chewed it for a moment and followed suit. Looking up at the kid's face, Blake noticed how uncomfortable he looked, and he couldn't help but return the exact same expression. Why didn't this feel as satisfying as he thought he would? Jayden forced to massage his back should have been a fantastic effort in humility- yet he almost completely forgot about this when the act began.
"On your stomach- there. Now relax-"
Carter did the exact opposite when he felt the bed sink, and the other man began to crawl onto his bed. A place that should have been sacred to him, safe, somewhere where a man can rest and unwind from the day.
Even if Carter always took his work home with him, an ever-present cloud over his life. This time, however, work was the last thing on his mind. No images of victims and their killers flooded his mind, no thoughts of getting certain paperwork done, filing reports and doing other mindless tasks that filled his time. It all evaporated as he felt Jayden put his legs on either side, straddling him as he sat on his back.
'Holy FUCK. He is trying something- no way you little fag-"
Jayden could sense and judge the man's body beginning to rise, a fluid desire to react adversely to another man, yet he put all his weight down as he straddled his hips, pressing his own into the small of his back in order to keep him down.
"Cartah! Stop- I told you to relax-"
"Get the fuck off of me! I'm not going to-"
A low growl erupted from the lieutenant's throat as he felt hands on his back again. Slowly, and with reluctance, Carter submitted to the Omega male's touch once more. Squeezing roughly, he felt the digits with their equally strong and soft palm make their way up and down.
"You…You liking this, Jayden?" He questioned, a slight smirk to his voice as he lay his head on his own pillow, shifting against the mattress and feeling his body and tensions virtually melt into the bed beneath him.
"No actually, you smell like sweat and you're being a shit-head about this- but I'm look'een forward to having my own done pretty soon."
Doing his very best to sound irritated and disappointed, Norman felt, then heard a small sigh peak it's way out of the other man's mouth as he felt him simultaneously relax all the muscles he could. Becoming butter in his hands, he noticed Carter had closed his eyes, his breathing fading away into deep, shallow breaths as his back rose up and down in a slow, controlled fashion.
Blake's legs were positioned oddly behind him, one leg curled in and the other straight out. For all but a second all the twisted ways he could get back at the fearsome cop ran through his mind. From painting various slander on his ass, to even slapping the thing to get him riled up once more, masturbating then cumming on his hair and back- oh that was a good one. Though a little gross. It surprised the young man just how easily the twisted psychotic fell into submission at his hands.
Of course, he knew he was still being controlled by the bastard no matter how hard he tried. He had ARI, he made the rules. Though he had to admit, he was glad he had them, and not somebody like Ash or Perry. He had little connection with these men, and the minute they saw him, they most likely would have thrown the things away in fear. Only Blake seemed to have some sort of sick desire to keep him as a little pet on a leash. It obviously pleased him.
A small pang of embarrassment heated his face, feeling the man's hot, sweaty skin cling to his inner thighs. He could smell the day-old scent of old sweat, aftershave, and even sex. It was from before, which felt like a whole week ago instead of from the early afternoon. Shifting as he suddenly found himself disgusted and ashamed, he dismounted the older man and sat on his knees as he arched his own back, feeling his spine crack into place from all that bending over.
"Ai'ght Blake, my turn."
Jayden lightly tapped Blake on his left side, feeling his muscles jiggle and heard their skin slap together. His own soft, delicate flesh meeting the other man's worn hide. His flesh felt warm, some sweat sticking to his hand still, and he winced in disgust as he wiped it on the bed.
"Blake?" He questioned again, leaning on his right elbow to look into the other man's face.
'Aw, Hell…'
He was asleep! Shit- he knew he was relaxed, now…Finally. Yet he wasn't expecting this. His eyes were shut, rapid eye movement already shifting under his lids, breathing slowed and calm. He'd never seen the man so rested before. Every second of the day he seemed so guarded, so ready for a fight, a chance to display his authority. Yet in sleep, one didn't have to worry about any of that. In one's dreams, they were already the king.
A deep sigh rumbled in the younger man's chest, heavily irritated and heavily frustrated with his rough and unattractive personality. Shifting in his seat, he leaned over and grabbed hold of his left shoulder, rocking him side to side gently to try and wake him without making turn into a mass of pure rage.
"Carter!" Then he found himself hushing his words, and questioned why. "Carter?"
No response came from the slumbering monster. It was actually surprising how quiet it was as he slept, no snores, no deep rumbles. Just the sound of his slowly breathing in and out, his eyes darting about inside his eyelids. He could wake him up, it wasn't like he wasn't owed something, wasn't worthy of smacking awake the resting tyrant. His sensitive, caring nature reared in protest as he considered this, the thought or rudely smacking his ass or biting his ear- and he stopped as he felt a twinge of warmth shoot to his groin.
'This is fucked up. God he's gross…He's a fucking dick…An incompetent, violent bastard. Why'm I gett'n off like this? Maybe be'cawse I'd do anything to see him put in his place? Hold him down and just do 'em?'
Making a face from the thought, he squinted as his eyes rested on the other man's face.
'I'm shocked he never came after me after I punched him. I guess he never saw it comin'.'
Thinking of this, he found his left arm wondering over and moving a few locks of black hair to the side. They had been obscuring his right eye, the one he remembered socking in the interrogation room. If he hadn't been looking for it, he never would have seen it, already the bruising was healing. 'He was bleed'in from his nose, too.'He suddenly recalled, then gingerly felt along the bridge of his nose, Carter made a noise of disapproval, a "Hmmm" noise in his throat as his nostrils flared and eyelids pressed further together. Instantly, Norman pulled back in fear of waking the sleeping dog.
'This is stupid. I shouldn't give a shit about him- he doesn't give a shit about me…If I didn't give him head earlier, he wouldn't 'ave given me the time of day.'
Licking his lips briefly, he slid off the bed and padded lightly towards the kitchen with his bare feet hitting the cold linoleum floors. Thinking logically, he made his way towards the front door, grimacing at the cool air from outside. It was raining, even if it was a far cry from the heavy downpour he was used to in this city.
'You're in Blake's house. This is weirder then being dead…'
Shutting the door, he locked it by turning the small dial on the doorknob, testing it by pulling on the knob. Then he locked the dead-bolt, then secured the small chain. He moved towards the windows and secured them the best he could, despite the humid air warping the old wood. Taking a deep breath, he tested his sudden independence from the man's psycho-imaginative capabilities. Even when asleep, he seemed able to maintain Norman's presence, and it was confounding him all the more.
That's when he turned, making his way towards the fridge again. His mouth was dry, and hoped that the man's odd dream-state kept him here for just a bit longer. Opening the door, the light temporarily blinded him as he shielded his eyes with one hand, reaching around for something to drink from. Looking in, he found a rather bare fridge- a few bottles of beer, the remnants of the case they opened, and a jug of milk.
Scanning the side door, he noticed everyday condiments like mustard and butter crammed into the spaces present. There was a large container of tomato juice on the bottom shelf, and reached down for it. He adored the stuff- drank it by the gallon. Jayden felt ecstatic that the man liked it to, noticing it was half done. That meant that not only did they have something in common, but that there would be plenty to have around.
Unscrewing the top, he leaned back and drank straight from the jug. Gulping down a few mouthfuls hurriedly, spilling some of the red juice on his neck. Reaching up, he moved to wipe it off, then walked to the sink to clean it off. As he went back to replace the jug in the fridge, he paused as he noticed something different on the kitchen counter.
'Is that a drawing?'
Moving closer, he sat the tomato juice down and tilted his head at the doodle on the counter. It was done sort of half-assed, not a whole amount of detail put into it. Yet it was sure as hell much better then anything he could pump out, which would have been a stick-figure or one of those houses with the curly-smoke coming out of it's crooked chimney.
There was girl, a pretty girl- long flowing hair as she sat on the floor, legs together as she rested her arms on her knees and glanced off to the side. The lines looked clean, her proportions all correct. Then to the right, a random, sloppy assortment of shapes like cones and boxes. It had been drawn over an old note from the precinct, obviously no longer important. A few numbers and mathematical equations lined the paper. Norman theorized it was something done more out of boredom then a test of abilities, perhaps even done while talking on the phone.
'Well, well…Never could have guessed that. Carter has an artistic streak…That's actually rather typical of bipolars…Wouldn't be surprised if he was on something, too. He seemed to eager to fall asleep. 'Didn't take much.'
Walking away, he put the tomato juice back in the fridge and shut the door. Entering Blake's room again, he shut the light off and turned on the ceiling fan. 'He owes me one tomorrow…' Thought the younger man as he carefully walked back to the living room.
The place was almost too neat for him, he was a messy soul and his office looked absolutely horrible. Yet here, everything seemed very dutifully put together, stored and labeled. The floor was spotless, the corners free of cobwebs, the carpet vacuumed with recent marks to indicate a little too much enthusiasm towards the effort. If it wasn't for the fact that Norman was used to living and working in crime-ridden D.C, he'd have never even shut and locked the doors and windows.
Another sigh parted his lips as he tried not to think of the all-too-obvious problems, he was still here in the real-world, but he knew better then to get too used to it. Any minute he could fade out, back into the dream-land, ARI-world, whatever tactually was. He'd be lying if she said he even knew for sure which one of those was actually closer to the truth.. Spying the couch, he gave into temptation as he entertained the thought of sleep. Actual sleep, on an real soft surface. This was the next best thing he had to a bed, which he wasn't going to even consider sleeping in with Carter right there.
Sure, he could have scooched over to the side, curled into his normal fetus position and fell asleep. He'd probably wake up snuggling next to him like a fucking lover, though, or at least that's what he told himself.
He wasn't angry with the odd sensations he was getting from their interactions- just confused. He wasn't his sort, not the type that he would even consider sleeping with. This thought still loomed, Carter being more like a necessity to him them a friend or especially a lover. God- that last thought made him ill. Yet it also scared him in it's actuality, it's practicality…If he was good at it, it might actually be-
Norman tried to bring his logic to the table. 'You feel like you're being dominated by him, by just being in this situation. You're getting off on it. Or maybe it's because he's been the only person you've been close to in the past few years, even if it's completely by force, and only for a few days…Hell, it hasn't even been a whole 72 hours. Or maybe it has… Gawd, I can't think right now. I need to sleep.'
These thoughts were looming in his mind, yet suppressed as he gathered the blanket he used earlier. His body was starting to feel the wear and tear of the force he had put behind attempting to fix Blake's body, his own muscles crying out for relief. He made a mental note to remind him that he owed him his very own re-adjustment, even if he secretly feared the amount of force and ruthlessness that would be behind it. Part of him told himself that he'd better just drop the issue.
'The hell you are. You had a deal, and if you start letting him walk all over you this is going to get ugly, fast. That bastard can't get away with everyth'an. He has been for years, but it stops now.'
Removing his shirt, he folded it neatly and set it down on the coffee table. Back at home, it would have been thrown carelessly off onto the floor, where he'd have it ready to be washed when he got the chance. As a guest, however, he knew better. It would most likely disappear soon, anyway. He'd most likely awaken back in his home in ARI, his own body and clothing disappearing along with him. There was a sensation of weightlessness beginning to creep into his system, and he took the opportunity to lay down, his half-naked body shivering under the thick blanket and made a groan to accompany his tired, worn state. Tightening the large blanket, he shifted and closed his eyes as he propped his head against the end-pillow.
His mind raced with unanswered questions, and he thought he'd never get to sleep. Yet soon enough, his poisoned body and overworked brain seized the moment to rest, carefully drifting off into a silent slumber. Over the course of an hour, his body curled more into a fetus position as it recalled it's time in the womb long ago.
Unlike the man in the other room, his eyes stayed motionless underneath his lids. Focusing instead on the horrors that it was about to witness as it did every night.
- 7
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