Word Count: 1,060
Archive: DarkMagick.net, Apollymi’s Grimoire, and Archive of Our Own. Anyone else wanting it, please ask first. I’ll probably say yes, but ask first…[endsection]
Given that he was far too used to disappointing people, Goodnight was honestly a bit leery about even speaking to these gentlemen that old Sam Chisolm had sent to fetch him at first. The younger obviously had no clue who he was, and even after drinking for a few hours still hasn’t the faintest idea, and he’s surprisingly more okay with that than Billy is. God love his best friend, but he gets so goddamned insulted on his behalf.
It’s the older one, however, who he is the most wary of still.
Oh, young Faraday can keep up with any one of them for drinking; that’s pretty obvious. And as he’s gotten progressively drunker, his accent has shifted from somewhere vaguely Midwestern to slightly Irish, which is likely why he’s practically outdrinking every man in this establishment. What’s got Goodnight feeling wary and on guard is the looks the man keeps shooting his way.
They all ring of hero worship and pure want, and Goodnight has, as previously mentioned, become far too used to being a disappointment.
That does little to explain why, when it’s time to retire somewhere to sleep for that night, Billy hauls young Teddy off to his own room for the night and Goodnight allows Faraday to follow him up to the one he’s been staying in alone, rooms being in short supply in a tiny place like Volcano Springs. So many people think that he and Billy are… closer than what they are, and there was a time he would have liked to invite the other into his bed. His best friend, however, is tragically only attracted to women, and he is likely to slip away sometime in the wee hours to visit his favorite girl before they leave for Junction City.
And he has no excuse for not telling Faraday that they were only going to be sleeping in this room, no excuse for not pushing the younger man away when he presses him against the door once it’s shut and kisses him before he can even say a word. He has no excuse for not saying that this is a bad idea… because it will only lead to bad feelings later, when the younger asks if he can have him tonight. He has no excuse for saying yes instead of no; and when later comes, he knows he won’t blame Faraday in the least for any negative reactions.
Goodnight decides somewhere between their clothing hitting the floor and his back hitting the bed that he isn’t going to worry about what will come tomorrow or the day after that or the day after that. Tonight, he is just going to live in the moment; he is going to let himself have one good thing before his old friend drags him into a war that isn’t his to fight, a war he isn’t even sure he can fight, and just hope that Faraday doesn’t hate himself too much when the disappointing truth comes out.
He’d much rather have the man hate him instead. And it likely will come to that.
For now, though, he’ll take this moment and keep it in his heart. He has so little good to keep him going and hopefully being fucked into the mattress will help him get some sleep tonight.
And, if he’s going to be even a little honest with himself, he knew from the second Faraday had him against the door that he wouldn’t regret giving in. It’s been too long since he’s let himself have something even remotely good, since he’s let himself relax and give control over to another person, that he can’t risk losing the chance. Especially when Faraday has been nothing that he deserves: gentle even while using his height and weight advantage to pin him in place, speaking softly as if afraid to ruin the moment, almost hesitant while they work to strip one another bare.
The sex… it’s not bad, is the problem.
No, it’s pretty close to what Goodnight would call perfect for a first time with someone. Faraday is oddly meticulous about prep, despite how drunk the both of them really are, even with himself demanding that he’s ready, goddammit; he can handle a little pain with his pleasure. There’s still a little bite of pain when the younger man slides into him, the stretch just a bit more than what he was ready for, and it drags a soft whine from him. Faraday doesn’t pound him into the mattress like he was expecting, just keeps at a steady, almost too slow pace that nearly drives him mad.
It’s been far too long since slow and careful was the order of the day; during the war, there wasn’t much time for stress relief so everything was hard and fast and just this side of painful. In the years since, he hasn’t much wanted anything but punishing and swift and, in more than a few cases, with an exchange of money. Goodnight has never really felt like he deserved anything that verged on careful or kind where sex is concerned.
Faraday is going to ruin him for anything aside from this, even if they keep on after tonight; this will never come again, and he can’t help but cling to it with both hands.
Literally, to be honest, as he keeps one hand clapped firmly to the younger man’s shoulder and the other pressed to the small of his back, gasping and offering praise that shifts from English to French and back again as his lover fucks into him again and again and again.
He bites his tongue when he comes, and for a moment, he laments that it’s over. Then Faraday moves to kiss him again and keeps taking him, and Goodnight prays to a God he’s long ceased to believe in that he can hold onto this moment for as long as it will last. He has no doubts that the next few days will change things for the worse, because that is how his luck goes, so he will take what he has now and lock it away to keep for the rest of his life.
If his luck finally changes for the better, that won’t be very much longer at all, and he can have something good to take with him to the other side.
[section=Footer Notes]01 June 2017
Well, we were more or less dared to go ahead and share some of this hot mess… so we are! I am so, so sorry.[endsection]