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 Posted: Sat Jun 07, 2014 4:18 pm
Harland wasn't looking forward to having to walk back to his room in wet pants, and then figure out how to change while Alistaire was around. That was if he was still around, after this-- Harland thought that perhaps dressing his wounds and getting him to rest would be smarter. Perhaps Alistaire would let him read to him aloud. Harland thought fondly of the idea, as he cleaned Alistaire's back, occasionally resorting to Quantum physics in his head or reciting Winnie the Pooh from memory internally. All this in the name of, ideally, not focusing too much on the fact he was cleaning Alistaire's wounds. "Ta bron orm, mo chroi," he apologized softly in Irish, as Alistaire hissed in pain. "Don't want anythin' gettin' infected," he explained. I have sadness upon me, he had said.
Harland was standing there with the soap and cloth in his hands, as Alistaire turned to face him and told him he did not feel clean. Harland stood like a deer in headlights, not sure how to proceed, having been about to offer to clean it again when Alistaire's hands first slipped around his neck and then pulled him down to kiss him.
At first, Harland's muscled had tensed, showing through the fabric of his saturated dress shirt. The outline of Coyote's naval piercing vessel showed its sheriff's badge and handcuffs through the wet material. Harland moved the soap to the hand with the cloth, letting the water wash the residue off his hand and then sliding it down to Alistaire's lower back, over his spine. Harland's splayed fingers pressed very gently, but only because he was controlling himself as best he could.
Despite the way he wanted to crush his body into Alistaire's, kiss him until this desperation left his thoughts in peace. At the back of his throat, a small sound of pleasure escaped as he kissed Alistaire back firmly. The water slicked his gold-red hair down.
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Posted: Sat Jun 07, 2014 9:24 pm
He didn't know why he was doing that sort of thing here, in a public place, where anyone could walk in, in spite of Harland's frequent reassurances that the place was deserted and that he'd locked the doors. Maybe it was because he needed a distraction; because he could still feel the disgusting mess on him even after scrubbing for so long, and because Harland was warm and inviting and had never judged him for who he was or what he did.
Maybe he just wanted to feel something other than nausea and panic and anxiety.
Harland's fingers slid down his back, leaving little tingles in their wake, but the touch was light, hesitant almost, as though he was restraining himself (which he probably was, Alistaire thought vaguely). His lips were warm, however, and Alistaire pressed himself closer, moving his hands and sliding his arms around Harland's neck, deepening the kiss. His fingers tangled in the wet strands of Harland's hair, and it was, without a doubt, the most physical contact he had had in his entire life, because he wasn't wearing a shirt or any of his protective layers. Harland was still fully dressed, but it was doubtful as to whether or not it actually counted.
Alistaire pressed another lingering kiss to his lips and then drew back a little before the dizziness and the anxiety could overtake him. He lowered his arms from around Harland's neck, but his hands rested on Harland's upper arms, his gaze not quite meeting his.
"Why do yo do that?" he asked roughly. "You seem...reserved somehow. Even when I probably drive you mad, you still seem so...collected."
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Posted: Sat Jun 07, 2014 10:05 pm
Harland considered the place deserted enough, inaccessible. Even then, the notion that Alistaire was kissing him in a place that was not his room was staggering. He believed that Alistaire had good within him, or at least some measure of kindness. He wasn't as bad as he liked to believe. However, perhaps believing he was so beyond saving took the pressure away and made him feel as though he was protected in a way.
Harland wasn't hesitating out of fear or discomfort, this time. He didn't doubt Alistaire. They'd gone over that; he didn't like to make a habit of rehashing things he considered settled. He was holding back expressly in favour of not rushing Alistaire.
The following kiss, Harland's hand pressed a little more firmly, and he stopped keeping their bodies apart, indulging enough to briefly press their hips together-- until Alistaire lowered his arms, as if breaking the spell. Harland opened his eyes, tilting his head, observing Alistaire's face. Harland set the wash cloth and soap down on a little rack behind them meant for such a purpose. He washed his other hand clean, and very gently allowed himself the forbidden privilege of cupping Alistaire's jaw in one tanned hand. "It's important to me," he said. "I don't want... anythin' I do to be unwelcome or hasty. Even if you do drive me mad," he admitted, "an' when you stop kissin' me, it feels like the stars've blinked out an' I'm left in the cold." Harland was grinning.
"But it's important," he re-iterated. Part of what made Harland himself was his very strong beliefs, probably. One of those was that everyone should be treated with dignity. Above all, the person he loved.
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Posted: Sat Jun 07, 2014 10:30 pm
It was the touch-and-go nature of Harland that drove Alistaire crazy, whether because he wanted more or he wanted less, he couldn't be certain. His thoughts were muddled, especially with the close contact, and the fact that water was steadily losing its temperature the longer they stayed made him realize the seriousness of their situation.
He felt dizzy with all of his emotions. Harland's fingers were worn and warm as they touched his jaw, the whole of Harland's hand spreading over his face. Alistaire inhaled a sharp breath, his lashes fluttering, and his fingers curled in the fabric of Harland's shirtsleeves. It was partly to steady himself, but also partly to keep Harland from moving further away.
Alistaire tried to ignore the anxiety roiling in his stomach, the lightness to his head. He fumbled behind him for the spigot, turning off the lukewarm water and leaving them standing there in drenched clothing, Alistaire still clinging pathetically to Harland.
"Is that what you say to all the ladies you kiss?" he muttered, almost a joke, and pressed his face into Harland's neck, exhaling a breath against his damp skin. "I don't know what to do with you, Mr. Belle, but you are certifiably crazy."
This statement, however, did not stop Alistaire from lifting his head and drawing Harland down for another kiss, his fingers toying with the wet hair at the nape of Harland's neck. This one was briefer, but still firm and searching, and when Alistaire drew away, his face was slightly flushed.
"Is there an actual pool here?" he asked, switching topics abruptly to keep from mentioning the heat on his cheeks. He was still leaning against Harland. "I don't see the use of one in an institution such as this."
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Posted: Sat Jun 07, 2014 10:39 pm
Harland didn't mean to seem so flighty-- he was constantly fighting his own desires, and surely Alistaire could relate to such a battle? Harland would love for it to be simple, love for it to work like he imagined romance was supposed to work if he went by his favourite movies: one, the cowboy was interested in someone. Two, the cowboy told them so. Three, they were initially rebuffed. Four, they realized the cowboy was irresistible and gave in.
Okay, so maybe this was a bit like the movies after all.
Harland wished he wasn't wearing his damp shirt, wished Alistaire was touching his bare skin, wished that he could kiss him whenever he wanted like this-- even though, really, Deus meant always being at work. You wouldn't just kiss your coworker in the middle of the day during the job. How was this different?
It probably wasn't. But Harland wished it was. Not even that, he just wished it wasn't a secret. He didn't need to be PDA.
Harland laughed as Alistaire asked him if it was what he said to the ladies. "I don't think I was that articulate, back when I thought maybe I was interested in 'em and just didn't know how to feel properly about 'em," Harland said, honestly, still smiling warmly. "I haven't kissed anyone but you in a very, very long time," he added, smile widening. And he was grateful for every one of Alistaire's kisses.
It was cringeworthy, but Harland met Alistaire's joke and raised the stakes: "I'm only crazy for you," he joked, with a lopsided grin.
Harland could not resist kissing Alistaire back wholeheartedly, this time; for a moment, his whole body pressed against Alistaire's as much as he could, before he pulled himself away, breathing heavily. "A..." Harland trailed off, taking forever to switch gears between kissing alistaire and pools.
"Pools'r useful for all sorts of reasons," Harland argued, in their favour, "Training, physical prowess, low-gravity exercises, you name it," Harland said. "But long answer short, I've never actually checked beyond the doors," Harland admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Oh, Alistaire, I've put some of my nicer clothing in the bag over there, so if you want somethin' dry to wear have at it," he said, aiming a thumb at the bag he'd suspended safe and dry. "Not that... I ever want you to wear a shirt again," he half-joked, his eyes scanning Alistaire from head to toe for a moment, taking it all in. Harland grinned again.
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Posted: Sat Jun 07, 2014 11:02 pm
Unfortunately for Harland, this was not the movies, but the Alistaire Show, which meant that all of his actions were tainted by the fact that Harland Leander Belle was in some sort of relationship with a man who couldn't seem to touch people without getting nauseated unless they were Harland Leander Belle.
Listening to Harland was a curious thing; it was a fact Alistaire hadn't known about him before, and he fiddled with his shirtsleeve, soaked through and sticking to Harland's skin. "Good," he said, and then lifted his gaze so that his eyes were locked on Harland's, his expression quite intense. "Don't kiss anyone but me."
The joke made him roll his eyes, but a second later he'd forgotten about it, since he kissed Harland. Alistaire wondered dizzily if this would become a bad habit; he listened silently to the explanation about the pool and then gave a soft snort, running a hand through is sodden hair and sweeping it back away from his face.
"I've never liked swimming," he said. "I never saw the point."
Not that he'd ever really had very many chances to go before. Alistaire was about to say something about the offered clothes, at least until Harland kept talking, and then his jaw snapped shut, his face heating. Tingles ran up and down his spine, his chest tight, his head spinning.
"You're ridiculous," he muttered, but his lips found Harland's jaw and he pressed another idle kiss to it. His eyes had drifted lower, landing on the outline of something at Harland's navel. Distracted, Alistaire slid his hand down the front of his shirt and drifted his fingers over Coyote's badge.
"What is it with you and piercings?" he asked. "Is it some sort of vanity thing?"
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Posted: Sat Jun 07, 2014 11:28 pm
And Harland found it very difficult to be attracted to anyone at all, even if they were the right gender-- Alistaire and his brother appeared to be the exception, and yet somehow now that Harland was so very tangled up in Alistaire his brother had lost most of his appeal; it was as though after Alistaire, nothing had quite the intensity, and it made everything else seem even more bland in comparison.
Harland's expression was plain, simple, honest; open. "Promised I wouldn't, an' there's no one... who could compare to you any more, anyway," Harland said. Alistaire's eyes were gorgeous. Harland wondered if they were always that shade, for a moment.
"No? Shame, woulda taken ye to the secret pool," Harland joked, his smile lopsided. Harland just laughed, when Alistaire called him ridiculous. For a moment, Harland could pretend they would always be like this. Warm, close. Affectionate, in a way.
Harland looked peaceful, as Alistaire pressed a kiss to his jaw. It was very difficult not to lean in to tug at the edge of Alistaire's ear with his teeth, as Alistaire's hand slid down to Coyote's desummoned naval jewelry.
"Hmm..." Harland began, thinking, eyes cast upwards. "Not sure," he said, finally, with a smile. "Never really thought about it, an' for the most part I forget they're even there. Except for Coyote; he'll never let me forget," Harland said, laughing.
The sheriff's badge and its little handcuffs, dangling from thin chains: Harland actually loved the hell out of it. "Why? Do they bother you?"
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Posted: Sun Jun 08, 2014 6:53 am
"Perhaps if it's a secret pool, then I'll let you take me," said Alistaire, a little dryly.
He made a soft hum of approval in the back of his throat. The idea of Harland doing the same thing he was doing with Alistaire with anyone else gave him great irritation, made him feel slightly more nauseated somewhere in the pit of his stomach, a feeling of anxiety welling deep. They were close now (too close too close not close enough) but that didn't stop the fear that was radiating up and down his spine.
Unclean.
I'm unclean.
Alistaire forced his mind away from those thoughts, focused instead on Harland, completely soaked through and still standing in front of him. "They don't bother me," he said, eyes flickering upwards to the tiny one just under Harland's lower lip. Sometimes he could feel it against his skin when they kissed, though admittedly his mind was usually too preoccupied with other thoughts to consider it."They're...interesting."
"Ironic that your weapon's totem seems to fit you so naturally," he said, lips twisting with amusement. His hand stilled on Harland's stomach and he sighed, sliding both of his arms around Harland's waist and letting his face rest against the part of his neck where it slid into his shoulder.
"Where are those clothes?" he mumbled, his voice muffled against Harland's skin. "Or are we going swimming?"
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Posted: Sun Jun 08, 2014 7:35 am
"Well, then I'll make sure it stays secret," he said, smiling broadly at Alistaire.
The sense of irritation and nausea that Alistaire felt over thinking about Harland doing anything like this with someone else was most assuredly comparable to the matching sentiment Harland felt for it: the idea of kissing anyone the way he kissed Alistaire was repulsive to him, now. Mostly the idea of being close to anyone in this way was foreign to him; he didn't really feel more than platonic things for most people. Alistaire was his exception, always would be. Maybe that fight when they'd first met had done more for them than he had thought it could. Who knew?
Harland smiled when Alistaire said that they didn't bother him. He was relieved. It was a remnant from his old life that he actually liked, so he wasn't sure he wanted to give it up just yet. "In the winter at home, or when the weather was bad, they'd get chilled an' if I touched 'em I was cold too," he said, laughing. "Texas was never so cold, an' winter at home was more like ... a lot of rain, so I was fortunate to rarely encounter snow," he said, with a grimace. That was what he'd lived through in New York, and he was not a fan.
"Doesn't it make sense, though?" Harland asked, though he had also thought it was strangely appropriate. He wondered who had owned Coyote before him, who may have died with him. Coyote'd never said. But the charm seemed to fit Harland so perfectly, it was hard to imagine him with another vessel. "When we first met, Coyote was impatient with me. Not sure that's changed much," he said, shaking his head, his darkened and wet hair sliding across his neck.
Harland held Alistaire gently, his arms circling around him, fingers loose so that Alistaire could easily pull away. Harland kissed Alistaire's head, feather soft, leaned his cheek against it. His voice was low. "I'd happily take ye swimming, even if I have to wear pants into the pool," he said, his voice betraying his amusement at the idea. "Or I could toss ye in?" he joked, pretending to raise Alistaire though he didn't actually.
"But if it's time t' rest, the clothes are in that bag right there," he said, nodding his head in the direction of the bag by the door. The opposite direction from the pool.
As if he had come to a crossroads, and had to choose which one he would take.
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Posted: Sun Jun 08, 2014 9:27 pm
Alistaire let out a snort that was muffled against the side of Harland's neck. "It doesn't bother you that they get cold? That sounds...unpleasant. Like sucking on an ice cube that doesn't melt," he muttered, though there was faint amusement in his voice.
He felt Harland's arms encircle him, which made his throat tighten a little with anxiety, but the grip was loose enough that he could pull easily away at any moment. Lips brushed the top of his head, barely even considered a kiss, and Alistaire's eyes flickered a little. The natural warmth of Harland's body combined with the cold wetness of his soaked clothes made for a strange mixture of temperatures against Alistaire's bare skin.
Which reminded him that he still wasn't wearing a shirt. The thought made him blush furiously, but Alistaire wound his arms more tightly around Harland's waist and stayed there for a moment longer, forcing down the anxiety and the nerves. His fingers curled in the back of Harland's shirt.
"I don't know how to swim," said Alistaire evenly, this startling fact rolling off his tongue without much embarrassment to it, surprisingly. He pushed his face into the crook of Harland's neck, impressed with himself for being able to hold on so long. "I'm afraid I never really saw the point of it."
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Posted: Sun Jun 08, 2014 10:17 pm
The feeling of Alistaire's breath against Harland's neck scattered his thoughts like wind scattering clouds from the sky: they shimmied away, left his mind thinking how nice it was without a care. "It's just like a chip of ice, I guess-- the inside of my mouth's warm enough, so I don't feel it much there," he explained. It was only if he touched it with his lip, or finger, or brushed it on the outside that he noticed.
Harland couldn't have been happier, holding Alistaire. Again, it was like there was nothing wrong, and they could be a couple-- Harland pushed that thought away, thinking I'm his business, is all. He tried not to feel sad. He tried mostly to feel hopeful.
And in the end, what he felt was happy. Happy he was holding on to Alistaire. Happy Alistaire, shirtless, had his fingers curled into his wet shirt. Harland was happy. "Do ye not?" Harland asked, concerned suddenly. "What if they open a portal into water, one day?" he asked. He tried to bury the concern in his voice. He tried not to hold on a little tighter just for a second, unconsciously trying to catch hold of him as if he was worried Alistaire would drown.
"Would ye consider learnin'? You're a clever man, sure it would take hardly any time at all," he said, beaming. He felt strange; the damp clothing was making his skin cold, thirsty for heat. He desperately wanted to peel off every layer and match his skin to Alistaire's, look at the contrast in their shades, weave his fingers through Alistaire's, push him back against the wall--
Harland tried to scatter his thoughts and think of something more chaste. The chill in his skin was making the desire to consume overwhelming.
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Posted: Sun Jun 08, 2014 10:31 pm
Alistaire gave a soft hum of amusement low in the back of his throat that was partially a growl of flustered embarrassment, because he most definitely did not need Harland to remind him of just how warm his mouth was. Alistaire focused on himself, on the fact that he'd managed to hold onto him for all this time without panicking, and it was leagues better than what he was normally like.
Maybe the heat was getting to his head.
He did have to admit that he was remarkably surprised by Harland's apparent self-control. But perhaps he shouldn't have been, because Harland had already told him that he had no desire to rush things, or to push things further than how they were going. Harland was not stupid by any means; he knew pushing too far would break things, but whether or not that would be a good thing or a bad thing remained to be seen.
"Leaning from whom, exactly?" Alistaire drawled, and he pulled back enough to see Harland's face, the flush to his freckled skin. His skin had grown colder from lack of a shirt, and he gave a little shiver involuntarily. "I suppose you're offering to teach me how to swim, are you? I suppose that could be arranged...provided I can wear something other than those ridiculous things they call swim trunks."
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Posted: Sun Jun 08, 2014 10:49 pm
Harland shut his eyes against the overwhelming need to be close to Alistaire. He had to be calm, slow, patient. Everything in this hinged on his ability to provide an environment for Alistaire where the other man could call the shots: Harland didn't presume to think he could figure out what Alistaire needed, not without guidance. He was doing his best, but it was so important to him that Alistaire got to dictate how much of him Harland had access to.
Focusing on Alistaire's voice, the sound of it, was somehow helping-- anything so that he wasn't thinking about Alistaire's bare chest. The additional involuntary shiver made Harland all too aware that Alistaire would be cold. He started to draw back, concerned. "Anyone you'll learn from, though obviously I'd not balk at the notion of spendin' time with ye," he said. "Well, how about a wet suit?" he joked. He, himself, was not terribly fond of swim trunks. But they were better than the swim briefs he'd had, which were basically just a glorified scrap of tigerprint cloth.
Needless to say, it had been a joke. Harland did not normally swim in such ridiculous things.
"Perhaps we can find somethin' next time we're in the real world?" he suggested, "for now, I'd like t' get ye dry an' warm an' relaxin', so your immune system's not compromised," Harland said, worrying about Alistaire's changing temperature. It wasn't that the cold could make him sick, no; Harland knew that. It was that rapidly changing his body core temp would confuse his system, and Harland didn't want Alistaire to get sick. He wondered, briefly, if he could congratulate Alistaire on how long he'd stayed so exposed, and so close.
It was really impressive, considering a while back Alistaire had barely been able to touch his bare skin. Now here they were, Alistaire topless in front of him. That was pretty crazy. Harland felt like he was dreaming.
It was a really, really good dream. Harland smiled to himself, amused, zoning out as he stared at Alistaire with that sly, warm look. "Proud of ye," he finally whispered, leaning in and attempting to kiss Alistaire's forehead.
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Posted: Mon Jun 09, 2014 5:39 am
He gave Harland a rather strange look, somewhat sharp and a little confused, something flashing across his face. "I'd rather not spend my time with anyone but you if it involves less clothing than I'm used to," he said flatly, and he seemed not to realize the implications of what he'd just said, clearly meaning that he was not about to wear a swimsuit in front of a random stranger. "The only other person I would even consider getting lessons from would be Ian, and that is out of the question for a variety of reasons."
The idea of a wetsuit, however, was strangely appealing. Something to cover him up even in situations such as swimming was something he appreciated, though he didn't say as much, giving a little noncommittal sort of hum in the back of his throat. He felt Harland starting to move back and his grip tightened on his shirt, unwilling to let go just yet.
Warmth skimmed across his forehead as Harland kissed it, and Alistaire eyes flickered, a tingle running up and down his spine.
"You have strange ideas as to what constitutes being proud, but the sentiment is appreciated."
Alistaire snorted - a very unbecoming sound, coming from him - and then finally withdrew himself from Harland's grasp, the sudden lack of warmth clearly felt as he walked towards the bag by the door. Alistaire knelt, rummaging around, and pulled out the extra clothing. Straightening, he made his way back to Harland and wordlessly held the clothes out to him.
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Posted: Mon Jun 09, 2014 9:07 am
Harland didn’t mean to upset him, he was just making sure that Alistaire didn’t want to learn from someone better-- Harland wasn’t exactly the world’s best swimmer, though he knew how. He’d learned when he was a boy, but the waters weren’t exactly friendly. He was more of a land kind of guy, and he didn’t really like to leave it. A feet on the ground individual. Flying back to Texas had always been kind of nightmarish for Harland. He couldn’t help but smile to himself when Alistaire said he didn’t want to spend his time less clothed with anyone else. "I can sing to that," Harland said, employing a figure of speech, but looking immensely pleased.
The hum wasn’t a no, and suddenly Harland’s joke seemed like it was actually a rational suggestion. He’d keep it in mind. It would help assuage his discomfort over the thought of Alistaire getting portalled somewhere he’d die, too; a wetsuit would help keep his body temps up in the case that he did end up submerged. He’d have to find one.
He loved that Alistaire held onto his shirt, and he stayed happily. He never wanted to pull away. He was just trying to do what was right. For Harland, that would probably be the death of him.
"Fightin’ your own self is the hardest, an’ you’ve gained some impressive ground," Harland defended himself, amused. He was proud. Unspeakably so. Harland felt the cold of the shower room like a knife as Alistaire drew away. He watched Alistaire with an amused smile, reaching a hand back through his wet hair. "An’ what’m I supposed to do with those? I only brought some for you; didnae expect t’ get wet m’self," he said, with a smile.
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