Evenfall (58 page)

Boyd slammed his hips up against Sin's, his breath quick and frantic and not enough to fuel his feverish mind. Sin's lips pulled away and the loss was nearly devastating until Boyd felt Sin's hot breath traveling down his neck. Moist heat followed the erotic feel of Sin licking him, followed almost immediately by his teeth nicking him. Boyd's body arched up against Sin with an, "Ahh!" that became, "Ohh fu--" and then a groaning shout.

Lips that were pressed red from hungered kissing dropped wide open and Boyd's body was taut with a nearly overwhelming desire to feel everything of Sin at once. Suddenly, the layer of clothing between them was too much. His hands jerked down to Sin's waistband and, trembling with the need to feel Sin's naked erection against his own, he started to unbutton Sin's pants. His thumbs and fingers felt clumsy and every part of him was yearning toward Sin until Sin's hand sliding beneath his shirt made his heart nearly stop.

Tension of a different sort slammed through Boyd's veins like ice. He grabbed Sin's wrist and pulled it away, starting to say, "Wait."

Sin twisted out of Boyd's grip and closed powerful fingers around his wrist. He slammed Boyd's arm down impatiently, pinning it to the floor. Boyd jerked at his arm automatically but Sin only tightened his grip. Fear was like cold water running through Boyd's veins; a chill raising the hair on his skin.

"Sin, wait--" he burst out in growing alarm.

There was no chance for thought. Sin's other hand was already going for his shirt.

The terror of being held down took on a whole new level that transcended the moment. The fear that was so ingrained within him at the idea of anyone seeing his bare chest made him feel nauseated and exposed and far too vulnerable-- The grip of that hand on his wrist suddenly grew more ominous and the fear he'd felt earlier returned with a vengeance-- the knowledge that he was entirely at someone else's disposal and they could do anything-- they could hurt him and no one would hear him scream--

Boyd panicked.

"No!" he shouted, the word wrenching out of him.

He struggled furiously beneath Sin; not feeling when Sin's grip changed or when the weight of his body started to pull away. His eyes were blind to everything around him. All he knew was someone was restricting his movement and he needed to get away but he couldn't-- he couldn't, he was trapped and anyone could do anything to him and he wouldn't be able to stop it--

He lashed out violently, one fist catching Sin on the shoulder as he hardly even registered himself screaming, "No, no, don't touch me--"

The next thing he knew he was sitting up, his knees drawn to his chest and hair awry. His body trembled with tension and fear and his heart jack-hammered against his ribs in a painful rhythm that nearly stumbled over itself in alarm. His lips were parted as he panted heavily and his fingers gripped his knees while, wild-eyed, he stared at Sin.

There was confusion in Sin's green eyes; confusion that was mixed with something else that wasn't as readily identifiable. But both emotions faded quickly until Sin's face was inscrutable. Without a word, he stood and walked into his room.

Boyd stayed crouched there for a minute; shaking and overwhelmed. He dropped his head into his hands, his fingers digging painfully into his hair and yanking back, and he dropped his forehead forward. The ragged panting of his breath caught moisture between his chest and knees and he felt sick to his stomach. He couldn't even fully comprehend what had just happened; the vestiges of panic were still shifting their way around his pounding heart and the scattered thoughts of his mind.

His head pounded to the drumbeat of his heart and his stomach clenched inwardly. He had to swallow back bile and fight against the confusion that swirled around him maddeningly like a snow storm. When he finally was able to come to grips with the situation, he hissed out a harsh breath against his knees. Exhaustion was a seductive pull on his mind and body. When he pushed himself to a stand, he looked past Sin's shut door but couldn't go over there. He had no words for anything; no way to think properly about any of this and certainly nothing that could make it better.

He was still feeling the fear too keenly, and with it came the memories that had been bubbling too close to the surface lately. There was too much vying for his attention; too many thoughts and feelings and clustered, contrasting feelings cluttering up his head. He felt so weary and, in some ways, scared. Scared of all the things that were happening and the lack of control over so much, and the knowledge that his body and his mind were sometimes running full speed in opposite directions, with him left behind feeling torn.

He disappeared into his bedroom, leaving the palpable feeling of leftover tension behind in the common room. He couldn't think and didn't want to, and knew the luxury of a blank mind would not extend to the hours of the night. His mind was on overdrive despite the pressure of exhaustion on his body. He lay there for what felt like hours, eyes alternatively wide open and squeezed shut, and his teeth gritting as he tried to hold together control of his emotions.

What little sleep finally overtook him was filled with restless, harrowing nightmares, and dreams where everything went horribly wrong and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

The next morning came far too quickly. Boyd's eyes burned as if he hadn't gotten a wink of sleep and his body felt creaky and hollow, like a dusty old house. He hit the alarm clock a little harder than he'd meant to, and it was a process to drag himself out of bed and pack his clothing. He felt the presence of the door to the main room behind him like a hard stare centered on his back. When he could no longer delay it, he went out into common room.

Sin was sitting on the couch, his bag ready to go and resting near him. He wasn't doing or saying anything but cold silence filled the room like a muffling blanket. Boyd felt it strongly and noticed that Sin didn't look over even at the sound of the door opening.

At first, Boyd went about finishing packing. He put away his jacket and felt far too aware of the broken remote in the corner when he went to retrieve his trench coat. He kept glancing at Sin in the corner of his eye, wondering if he should say anything and at the prospect feeling such an overwhelming lack of inspiration that it dried up any words in his throat.

When everything was ready and he had nothing to do but hover there awkwardly, he checked his watch and saw that they still had about fifteen minutes until they needed to go downstairs even early to catch the ride to the plane. He perched on the arm of the couch and looked over at Sin.

"Sin, I..." Boyd started to say, his voice seeming abrupt in the quiet. Sin looked over, his green eyes cold and unreadable.

The blank set of Sin's features made Boyd's throat close. The words that had been difficult to say before now felt nearly impossible under the weight of the previous night. Even without that, what could he say? I didn't mean to hurt you? I need some time alone to think? I never meant for any of this to happen?

None of that would mean anything.

He closed his mouth, looking away with a troubled look. After a second, he shook his head and stood. He turned his back on Sin but then paused and looked over. His eyebrows drew together.

The only words that came to mind were, "I-- was never going to use that." He gestured at the remote.

"Okay."

The flat words didn't give Boyd any indication as to whether Sin believed him. Boyd let the silence stretch but the fact that Sin spoke at all seemed like it could be a good sign. He hesitated, and then forced himself to push on before he could lose the ability to say even this much.

"And, last night, I--" He stopped, searching for words with his hands rising briefly. He dropped his hands into his lap and shook his head. "I panicked."

"I have no idea why such a ridiculous thing happened anyway," Sin replied in the same blank tone. He pulled a palm panel out of his pocket and flipped it on. "I'm not usually in the habit of wanting to finish someone's leftovers."

The comment felt like a slap in the face. Boyd opened his mouth but words didn't come at first.

It wasn't something he could deny.

Going into this trip he hadn't planned to have sex with anyone, and he certainly hadn't planned to move on to nearly fucking Sin right after he'd finished with Thierry. That behavior was completely uncharacteristic of him and he still couldn't fully say what happened.

But then, he hadn't expected to feel that drugged heat of Sin's body shoved against his. Or for a hectic hunger he'd never felt before to steal away his thoughts and make him unable to stop from wanting more and more of his partner. If Sin hadn't accidentally triggered ingrained thoughts and memories that made him panic, they probably would have continued.

The worst part was, even in the light of morning looking back on the follies of the day before, he couldn't forget the electricity that had shot through him at every one of Sin's touches. He couldn't forget the way his body had craved Sin like an addiction.

And he couldn't say that he didn't still want it, even knowing how awkward and cold things were, and knowing Sin was angry with him, and knowing it was probably impossible that anything like that would ever happen again.

Even knowing all that, he couldn't regret what had happened, what had almost happened, and he couldn't ignore the part of him that was unable to deny his attraction to Sin any longer. He couldn't put the whole thing down to some silly mistake or being drunk, because he'd been noticing Sin for months.

The inclusion of Thierry the night before-- If that ruined things between them, if it took away an opportunity he hadn't planned to pursue but had been given the chance to follow anyway...

Boyd's eyebrows lowered as he watched Sin. "So-- if it hadn't been for Thierry last night..."

"I don't want to talk about it anymore. It's bad enough that I behaved that way at all."

Sin shoved his panel into the pocket of his cargo pants and stood up, grabbing his pack. He seemed to be studiously avoiding making eye contact, his full mouth turned down into a scowl-- the first signs of an expression since the conversation had begun.

Boyd watched Sin for a moment, wondering what that meant and whether Sin regretted what had happened, the way he said he'd regretted ever trying to help Boyd in the first place. Not wanting to push it, or maybe more than that not wanting to find out that was true, he looked away and let the topic drop.

It wasn't long until it was time to head to the airport. The plane ride home was spent in silence between the two of them. Boyd didn't know what to say or even if he wanted to talk at all, and Sin didn't speak.

Boyd used his Agency panel to write the report during the long hours they were in the air. When he was finished and sent it off on the secure connection, he found himself staring at the blank screen. With nothing to distract him further and Sin's presence next to him, he couldn't help going over the previous night.

Logically, he understood why he had panicked. He knew it stemmed from Lou's murder and everything that had happened afterward. He'd known since then that any time he was held down or he lost control of a situation, it scared him. Even if the other person had no intention of hurting him, he couldn't help panicking, reliving memories at times and at other times simply reliving the fear in the automatic struggling of his body.

Even logically knowing that Sin probably hadn't intended or meant to hurt him didn't mean he'd been able to so easily convince the adrenaline-laced aftermath in his body. Or fully ignore the disturbed, nearly nauseated feeling at the thought of anyone bearing witness to the memory of a time he'd struggled for so long to deal with. It was a Domino effect of thoughts and reactions that triggered every time the idea came up that someone was going to touch his bare chest or see him when he didn't want to be seen.

And since he never even wanted to look at himself in the mirror-- the very idea of it aversive to him-- there was never a point when he wanted to be touched; wanted to be seen. Never a point when the idea of it didn't fill him with fear, and the act of it making it worse.

He found himself watching Sin out of the corner of his eye occasionally but Sin's expression hadn't changed. Although they sat next to each other, their arms occasionally brushing each other due to the close quarters, they interacted as little as if they were miles apart. Boyd tried to sleep a few times and was only marginally successful.

Boyd felt like they had been gone much longer than a couple of days when they made it back to the Agency. He checked to make sure the report had been received and found that the debriefing was set a few hours later. He decided to go home to shower and change.

For some reason, once he was home alone, time seemed to drag endlessly. He felt isolated in those empty rooms and it was more difficult not to think too much about everything that had happened on the trip. The argument with Sin. The night at Thierry's. Those heated few minutes with Sin and the subsequent fall out. He dropped his forehead into his hands, sitting on the edge of his couch and closing his eyes against the thoughts pounding through his head.

When he left his house, he noticed his neighbor Mrs. Hensley watching him openly through her kitchen window. When she saw his head tilt in her direction, the blinds abruptly fell down with a swish. He resisted the urge to shake his head and just got into his vehicle.