Roleplay City
Infusco => INFUSCO: Enter The Shadows => Brazilian Quarter => Topic started by: suneater on May 02, 2019, 02:28:47 PM
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For Existentially Odd
Luke let a long breath grow stale in his lungs before finally pushing open the door of the clinic and stepping inside.
The interior was surprisingly put together. Brightly lit, well-maintained. If it weren't for the thick bulletproof glass and sturdy, coded security door that separated the waiting area from the rest of the facility, it would have been at home in any part of the city. Luke had chosen it exactly because of its location, though. He didn't want to be seen, and he didn't think that anyone would be looking for him here.
He'd opted to wear a hoodie and jeans, along with his scuffed leather combat boots. He hadn't shaved in a few days, and while the stubble wouldn't serve as a complete disguise, it made his handsome, Caucasian presence in the clinic that much more plausible. The sun had set a few hours before, and Luke had come directly from a patrol, albeit via a laboriously circuitous route. He didn't want word of this spreading around, and he particularly didn't want it getting back to Jake.
He kept his hood up as he approached the counter. The woman behind it barely looked at him as she went through a thoroughly rehearsed set of instructions in monotone. Her voice came out tinny through the speaker set in the glass. The instructions related to a thick sheaf of forms on a clipboard that she slid through the small gap. He mumbled thanks before taking the clipboard back to a seat and getting to work. The waiting room had only a few other souls in it, people of color who waited listlessly for their turn with the no-doubt-harried staff of doctors and nurses.
Gripping the plain plastic pen in his gloved right hand, he quickly filled in all of the biographical data. Jake had outfitted him with what he assured him was the finest false identity money could buy, complete with every form of identification imaginable, even a library card. He'd committed all of it to memory and breezed through the more perfunctory sections of the paperwork.
Reason for Visit hung him up for a few seconds. He tapped the pen against his chin and then scrawled STD testing. Unconsciously, he scratched at his inner thigh before moving on.
After that were a series of boxes to check. Symptoms, sexual history, drug use, family medical history, allergies. He indicated several symptoms that he'd been feeling since last night's encounter: a slight fever, weakness, itchiness, the beginnings of a sore throat. He never should have done it. He'd known it was a mistake, but he'd needed to get away from the White Rabbit and lose himself a little. He'd had the impulse to dance, and he'd had a little bit too much to drink. The next thing he knew, he'd ended up fucking some guy's brains out in the bathroom. His memory was a little alcohol-hazy, but he certainly hadn't had any condoms with him, and his general impression was that it hadn't come up.
He'd woken up feeling awful, and it wasn't a hangover. Whatever tinkering had been done to his body left him pretty resilient to that sort of thing. The symptoms had only gotten worse as the day went on. He'd resisted the urge to start Googling every sexual malady he could think of. Jake had provided his phone, and there was a solid chance it was bugged in some fashion. He didn't need his benefactor getting a report that showed him getting up to speed on syphilis.
Hospitals were too much for him. He had a sneaking suspicion that the shards of memory sifting in his head might shake loose in a large institution like that. Non-legitimate medical assistance would mean going through Jake or one of Jake's subordinates, so that was out. So he'd come here. It seemed like his best option for getting himself fixed up without anyone finding out about it.
He returned to the counter and submitted his papers, along with the driver's license Jake had procured for him.
"You got insurance?" she asked him. He shook his head. "Alright then, have a seat," she droned without even looking at him. "I'll give you your ID back after. Doctor will be with you shortly."
Luke sighed silently and returned to his seat. About thirty minutes passed, and in that time, two more patients were called ahead of him. The process was the same both times. A slight buzz sounded from behind the heavy door, and then it opened partway. A large man in powder blue scrubs leaned out and called a name, then carefully ushered the patient in question through, be sure the door closed securely afterward. He wondered how long things had been like this. The security measures no doubt had a cause, and he strongly suspected that cause to be people trying to get their hands on pain killers or even just stealing valuable medical supplies.
Another buzz. This time, the man called out "David Hart!", which was the name on his forged identification. He rose and moved to follow. The big guy, who looked like he actually could have put up a fight if it came to it, cocked an eyebrow at him as he approached. "Right this way," he said skeptically before letting Luke through, closing the door, and then forging ahead. The hallway was clean, if a little dated. The tile was a hideous beige, and the walls were in need of a fresh coat of paint, but overall it could have been worse.
The big fellow led him to the third door on the right. There was a counter with a sink, cabinets above, drawers below, a variety of disposable medical supplies arrayed on top. There was also an adjustable chair with a fresh paper cover on it. "Have a seat. You're here for STI screening, right?" Luke nodded. The man smiled approvingly. "Good to get tested regularly. Hang tight and someone will be in soon." With that he breezed out of the room.
Luke took a seat, the paper sheath crinkling against the pleather beneath it. His eyes flicked to the clock. It was nearly nine now. He reached down and pushed up the left sleeve of his sweatshirt, exposing the pale skin beneath. He had to hope he could direct them to his left arm for any blood-taking, because otherwise he was going to be leaving in a hurry. His unnatural gray right arm had been one of his major concerns when considering this solution, but he'd learned that he was a consummate liar, even compared to the extensive network of vampires he kept company with.
Swinging his feet in an almost childlike fashion, he waited.
-
The door to Luke's examination room opened around five minutes after he'd been deposited, the opener preceded by a wheeled stool. A blond male - wearing the same powder blue scrubs the first had - followed behind it, pushing it with one hand while he carried a plastic specimen caddy in the other. A clipboard was tucked beneath his caddy arm. He paused to close the door behind him, then kept trundling forward.
"Evening, David," he bade as he rolled his seat towards the bench by the sink, not sparing his patient a glance. "My name's Harm and I'm here to poke a few holes in you to make you feel better," he said playfully as he put his caddy on the sink, sat on the stool and pulled the clipboard out from under his arm in a practiced movement. He adjusted the stethoscope around his neck slightly as he examined the chart in front of him, walking his stool closer to the examination chair. "So, you suspect an STI, is that right?" he queried in his smooth baritone voice.
That was when he looked up at the patient and his jaw dropped. "LUKE?!" he exclaimed.
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Luke spend his wait performing a thorough inventory of the room. Cotton swabs, tongue depressors, gloves- nothing unexpected. The drawers and cabinets had small locks built in, no doubt more for the sake of deterrence than anything else; they didn’t look formidable enough to stop a determined thief, but he guessed there wasn’t anything of serious value in them anyway. There was a regular wastebasket, and another more intimidating one with signage indicating that it was meant for biohazardous material only. If they only knew.
The blood he was thinking of froze in his veins. The testing he was signing on for would likely require samples, and it occurred to him that his blood might test positive for more than invasive bacteria and viruses. The gloved fingers of his inhuman right arm flexed into a fist. This was a bad idea. A terrible idea. His embarrassment and the resulting desire to take care of this himself had clouded his judgment. He couldn’t let him take his blood, test it. What sort of red flags might it raise? The people he’d escaped from probably had the resources to look for that kind of thing.
He was just about to get up and leave when the door opened, and another nurse entered. This one was smaller, slimmer, blond. Cute. Like the woman behind the counter, he seemed to have little time or attention to spare his patient. Luke had to imagine that his jokey little entrance was just as canned and rehearsed as her monologue about medical reforms had been. Still, it was cute, and the idea of a healthcare professional named Harm was amusing enough to distract him from his escape plan.
That wasn’t the only source of distraction. As Harm crossed the room, Luke couldn’t help but notice the way the thin fabric of the scrubs fell over his hips. Oh shut up, he silently told his dick. It’s your fault we’re in this mess in the first place. He realized just then that an STD screening would definitely involve his dick, and Harm looking at and possibly even touching it. Why did he have to have a hot nurse?
He pushed those thoughts aside. He needed to get out of this. Make an excuse. Take off. He was in the process of generating a plausible excuse when the other man finally looked up at him and exclaimed his name. His real name. Nerve-jangling anxiety spread from his stomach throughout his body, but he suppressed it and focused.
The surprise and recognition on Harm’s features weren’t manufactured. The guy looked… well, it was hard to say. Was there a word for devastated but hopeful? His paranoia directed him to the notion that this was some sort of set-up, but he dismissed it quickly. There was no way something like this could be engineered, not even with all the resources he had to imagine that a shadowy supernatural organization could bring to bear. This place wasn’t part of any pattern, wasn’t predictable for him. That was why he’d chosen it.
Some of the slivers of memory that had pulled free from his broken brain alluded to his life in the city before. He’d never caught a glimpse of Harm in any of them, but the nurse clearly knew him. Who was he to him? What had they been to each other? It was only a matter of time, now that he was starting to spend more time out of seclusion, before someone recognized him. His heart started to hammer in his chest. Whoever he was, he could provide answers. He could help Luke learn who he had been before.
A single uncertain flicker crossed Luke’s features as his mind raced through those possibilities. Otherwise, he was still, impassive, his intense gaze focused on Harm in a fashion that might even have been a little intimidating. Could he really justify letting this person stumble into the world he lived in now? Wouldn’t it be better to deny everything, to make his exit, to disappear out of his life a second time? Better for Harm, at least. He’d be confused but safe. Not a degree of separation away from vampires and worse. Luke’s teeth ground together behind his lips. Only a few seconds of shocked silence had passed. How should he play this?
He had to know. He had to take what scraps of knowledge he could from Harm while keeping him as uninvolved as possible. It was selfish, but he couldn’t run away from this opportunity. He needed to extract as much information as he could… and that meant playing dumb. His left hand found its way to his right arm, scratching through the thick fabric of his hoodie.
“I’m sorry,” he imparted quietly, his deep voice tinged with guilt. “But I have no idea who you are.”
-
Harm’s mouth snapped shut. His jaw sort of... tilted to the left as his right shoulder lifted in a defensive partial shrug, all his fingers tightening reflexively around the clipboard. “Ohhhh,” he warbled. It was a nothing sound, really, an exhalation of pain released against his will. He didn’t wish to telegraph that the blow of not being recognised went right through him and cut his heart to ribbons.
It fucking hurt.
He remembered days laughing with Luke and his odious (not really, he'd been great, it'd just been Harm's attitude) boyfriend, Trevor, secretly lusting over Luke’s body as they tossed a football on the grassy campus of college, or kicked a soccer ball around or caught baseballs. There’d been a lot of balls, really, with the jocks. Harm had never truly fitted in with them but Trevor had had the ability to draw anyone to him, like a shining beacon of hope that the gay world wasn’t so crushingly judgemental or vilified. Harm’s parents had always been accepting of him but that hadn’t made leaving the safety of high school and moving into the big, open world of college and freedom any easier to navigate.
For that, there’d been Luke. Sweet, intelligent, gorgeous Luke. Harm also remembered nights with him, tucked aside in shadowy couches at obnoxious parties, debating the successes and failures of the justice system, the almost certainty of life on other planets, the benefits of recycling... anything and everything. He remembered the relative anonymity of laying on wet grass, staring up at a sky filled with stars so that Luke finally had the courage to open up to him about how unhappy he was with Trevor, never noticing how Harm lay beside him, quivering with guilt-laden hope and a desire so strong it laced his dreams every fucking night.
Pathetic, useless dreams because nothing had ever come of it. He’d received the scraps of Luke’s friendly hugs, laughing punches on the arm, even a grateful touch every now and then, before he’d become too emotional over Trevor and hastened away from Harm, embarrassed to be seen crying. Harm had cried plenty over this man, especially after the beautiful pair had had their car accident and Trevor died. Harm had heard a drunk driver had jumped a gutter and collected them and that Trevor’s casket had been closed. Luke had left college, three or so years in and returned to his family to be cared for. There’d never been a phone call, a Facebook update, another rumour. He’d just disappeared from everyone’s lives like a ghost.
Everyone else had moved on, adjusting to the empty space left behind by the ebullient couple with ease. But not Harm. He’d suffered through a minefield of grief and confusion, the loss so sudden as to have ripped his heart out with it. He’d stupidly fallen in love with a man that wasn’t his, seducing himself with the promise of him when it had never been guaranteed and he’d felt as foolish as he had heartbroken. He’d learnt to adjust eventually and console himself that at least Luke had lived... even if he’d left Harm’s life a gaping wound for a little while (two years or so) and he’d probably never see him again.
Until tonight, apparently. When, here he was, larger and brighter and more beautiful than ever, watching him from those gorgeous, suspicious hazel eyes... and not remembering a fucking thing about him. Jesus fuck. “Um, I’m Harm Bennett,” he clarified awkwardly, touching his chest as if Luke might be confused who he was talking about, making the lanyard around his neck jangle against his stethoscope. “From college? We were f-friends before you and Trevor... had your accident,” he finished sadly. “I was so sorry to hear he died.”
Not really, not at the time. But only because I wanted you... and you have no fucking idea who I am, do you? Please tell me you got amnesia after the accident and that’s why you don’t remember me. Not because I was so insignificant as to be forgettable. Pleasepleaseplease.
-
Someone else might not have noticed, but somewhere along the line Luke had developed a good eye for the hallmarks of human emotion. Harm's stiff body language, his white-knuckled grasp of the clipboard, his slight clumsiness as he tapped his own chest- it came together to tell a story, or at least, summarize one. It was Harm's eyes, so blue that Luke was submerged in them for a moment, that conveyed most of it. He'd learned that people could often compose their features or still them but could seldom do much about their eyes. Pain shone in Harm's, and Luke swallowed as he studied the man's almost boyish features, watching the turmoil play out.
Even before Harm spoke another word, Luke could tell that he had meant something to him once. Maybe not him, but whoever he was before. There was a good chance that Harm had meant something to him, too. Had they been involved? It wasn't unlikely. Harm was just his type. It would certainly explain how much he seemed to be hurting. He'd never featured in one of Luke's returned memories, but that didn't mean anything. Or did it?
He listened when Harm spoke. The story unfolded, and Luke immediately suspected that it was a lie. Not Harm's lie, but a lie he had been given, and since it was the only explanation he'd had, he'd taken it as truth. An accident would be a convenient way for Project Twilight to justify his disappearance. The name Trevor didn't ring any bells, but the way Harm spoke of him, he must have been someone to Luke as well. Had they killed him, just to sell their lie?
Luke reached up with his gloved hand and rubbed the back of his neck. He tried to summon an apologetic smile, but it arrived stillborn. "I don't... remember any of that. I don't remember a lot. Since the accident. Or before." After a pause, he added, "Sorry." He shifted slightly, resulting in noisy crinkling from the paper seat cover beneath him. It made sense. It was plausible. They'd covered up his disappearance. He wondered what else Harm could solve for him, but then he felt something hard and painful obstructing his throat.
He looked across the small room at Harm. This isn't a source or an asset, it's an actual person. A hurt person. There were mental subroutines still at work, still coming up with a strategy for which mental levers and emotional buttons to pull and push to get as much out of Harm as he could, but Luke did his best to ignore them. How many hours of the life he remembered had he spent wishing he had more of the life that only existed to him in searing, painful glimpses? Here was a piece of that life, sitting just feet away from him.
"I wish I did," he offered. This time, the smile, however slight, came through. His voice was a little tight; he had to force it out past the lump in his throat. "Anyone who works in a place like this is probably someone worth knowing." He meant it, too. He'd thought as much a dozen times throughout the various stages of his experience at the clinic.
A strange, pained laugh escaped his mouth. "This is really fucking weird. I'm sorry, I know it's not funny, I just... I mean, what can I say but 'nice to meet you'?" He reached out with his left hand, the one that was normal, human, warm, offering it to Harm.
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Harm's aquamarine eyes widened as he was told Luke remembered very little of his life from before the accident. A tiny, hopeful part of him exulted that it had been amnesia! But then... as Luke continued to speak, Harm glanced down at the board in his hands. David Hart, it said. If Luke didn't remember anything from before the accident and he thought his name was David Hart, how had he responded to his proper name? It was very confusing.
He looked back up at the honey-blond in time to be complimented on working at the clinic. He blushed, feeling the heat rise up his neck to the tips of his ears. He giggled at Luke's comment that it was fucking weird and nodded his agreement, dismissing the notion it wasn't funny with a wave of his hand. It wasn't funny, no, but he was feeling light-headed enough to laugh at anything. Luke was right there, in the amazingly fine-looking flesh. His tongue felt as if it was glued to the roof of his mouth and he didn't trust himself to speak for a few moments.
Harm placed his hand in Luke's, feeling the heat of his grasp travel through him. His long, graceful fingers curled around the side of Harm's hand almost gently, caressing the edge of his palm even as his thumb raised tingles across the webbing beside his own thumb. God, his touch made him just want to drop to his knees and... He cleared his throat, aware that his fair skin was still flushed but for an entirely different reason now.
"Yeah, that is weird, considering we... were such good, uh, well, considering we were friends for a f-few years--you really remember nothing? Your amnesia's that complete... but you remember your own name?" he asked, flustered. Belatedly, he remembered to pull his hand away from Luke's.
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… a younger Luke, a younger Harm, their surroundings indistinct and noisy. There was a ball of anxiety vibrating in Luke’s chest, but it seemed to be slowing down. He reached out, clasping Harm’s shoulder and giving a fond squeeze. “Thanks.” His voice hitched, but he continued.” You always know just what to say…”
The instant they made contact the memory overtook him. It was like being trapped in a movie for just a few seconds. He saw what he had seen, felt what he had felt, but the entire thing was on rails. He came out of it dizzy; if he hadn’t been sitting, he might have fallen over. Awareness of the examination room, of the hand in his own, the feel warm skin against his own, flooded him. At least there was no headache or nosebleed this time.
It was over so quickly that if Harm noticed anything, it would only have been that Luke froze for a single frame of time, then blinked when it was over. Harm was talking and Luke struggled to absorb his words and make sense of them as the present reasserted itself. He was questioning Luke’s memory, that was the gist of it.
As he caught up with reality, one thing became painfully clear: Harm’s feelings for him likely crossed the boundary of friendship. It was written all over his face in red, hidden behind his cautious revisions of how he depicted their past, evident in how much being remembered seemed to mean to him. Luke tried to recall how he’d felt in the memory, but it had been so brief. He’d felt… relief. Assurance. No passion. No lust. He wondered how long Harm had felt this way. Had it always been part of their relationship, or had it only emerged once he was gone? He couldn’t imagine holding onto anything that long.
Luke’s mouth was dry when he tried to reply. He circulated some saliva and gave it another go.
“I get pieces. Fragments. Honestly, I only knew my name at first because someone told me it, but I guess some of my memories have confirmed it since then. They get triggered by things. Random things.” He paused warily. “I um, actually just had one. Of you, when we touched. It seems like you were in my corner, back then.”
His gaze dipped to the floor. “My life is pretty complicated. Kind of seems like it always was, though.” He was barely smiling as he met Harm’s eyes. He laughed self-consciously. “This is awkward, but I think maybe we should skip the exam.” His brow creased. “Would that make things hard on your end? Could you just say I chickened out or something?”
-
Harm was fascinated by the notion that a handshake could trigger a memory of them. It explained the slightly distant look Luke had adopted but not what his feelings about these memories were. Did it hurt him? Was he actively trying to regain his memory? Could he help?
When the final statements about skipping the exam came, Harm blinked and frowned, professional obligation overwriting his complicated feelings about the man before him. Plus, the idea that Luke could breeze into his life and straight back out again in as little as a few minutes was a very real possibility without something like his health hingeing them together. He couldn't let him go that easily. His heart rate picked up in fear at the mere thought of it.
"Your life was... mostly great. You and Trevor were totally relationship goals for a while, there. But... it went sour, and I... " he lowered his gaze momentarily, lips pressing together and holding back the rest of his comment before he looked up into Luke's eyes again. He was scruffy with his unshaven face and there was an air of being weathered and haunted about him that Harm saw too often in the homeless veterans they treated at the clinic but fuck, he still looked so good. Beautiful. Barricaded. A little broken.
"We can skip it if you want but if you truly believe you've been exposed, you shouldn't. Maybe... " he glanced at the door of the exam room, calculating, then back into those pools of hazel deliciousness, "I could just get a couple of treatments for you to take. They're mostly broad-spectrum antibiotics anyway, just in heavier doses, so they won't hurt you. We give them out like candy and usually before the results are back. The government's pretty lax on monitoring us on those and we have plenty on hand. Can't have the needy masses addicted, malnourished and passing around sexual diseases because it's all they've got in their lives, now can we?"
His smile was bitter but his expression was still as he waited for Luke's response. There was a tension holding his spine rigid that he couldn't dispel no matter how much he shifted on his stool. Was it ethical to ask for a patient's number or grill him on the fake identity he'd provided? Hell no. Would he do it anyway? First chance he got. "Would you prefer that?" he prompted.
-
There was more in what Harm didn't say than what he did. Luke watched him steer his way through the conversation. He was careful about what he committed into words. Despite having unfettered access to his own memories, it didn't seem like the man trusted them. There was uncertainty, not about where they stood with one another now, but then. Had they been good friends, or friends? What had happened after things went sour with Trevor, who he now suspected was the young man he'd glimpsed in a few of his memories? Luke wished he had the answers. He wished he could validate whatever it was that Harm was so unsure of.
Harm had trailed off. Luke wanted to ask questions, wanted to get some of the omissions clarified. He'd obviously relied on Harm before, and he found himself wanting to be able to again. His mouth had just fallen open to say as much when Harm beat him to the punch - offering a succinct, easy solution to the simpler of the problems at hand.
It was hard not to notice the way Harm was looking at him. Luke felt like the biggest present beneath the Christmas tree, the one that was obviously just what you asked for. Thoughtfulness etched itself onto his features, as if he was considering the offer of medication, but in truth he was using that time to figure out his next move. The anti-biotics were a no-brainer; he was taking them, for sure. But what next? What were his objectives?
He wanted to put Harm at ease. There was something causing him to keep arm's length between them. Luke wasn't ready to trust Harm, but he wanted to, and he couldn't while the blatant editorializing was happening. He wasn't foolish enough to think that he could get Harm to drop his guard completely with a few words, but he could at least start the process.
"I'm going to go out on a limb and assume that this isn't the first time you've made sure I end up alright despite myself." He grinned, and though it started cheeky, it resolved into something appreciative as he reached out and gripped Harm's shoulder with his gloved hand, giving a fond squeeze. "You really do always know just what to say." It was stilted, sure, but he hoped that maybe that memory could connect them. He couldn't guarantee that Harm remembered it, but right now, it was the only shared experience they had.
He let the grip linger for a few seconds, still smiling as he met Harm's gaze. "Maybe we should continue this not at your place of work?" He finally pulled away, bringing his hands together to crack his knuckles slowly, one by one. He laughed. "I'm more than a little embarrassed that this is how we met. Well. Re-met. What are the odds, right? Just, how insane is it that this is happening?" Luke was a little surprised at how true his words were ringing, how little of the mirth and gratitude were manufactured. "It's really weird to say, but I guess I'm glad I made some bad choices last night."
He was still grinning. "If I hadn't, I might never have stumbled into you."
-
Harm's breath hitched in his throat and stalled there when Luke touched his shoulder and repeated the words that had haunted him for years. It had been said to him, not once, but many times, from tired Luke, drunk Luke, overwrought and miserable Luke. Every Luke that had ever hedged him back into the fucking friend zone had done it with those words. You always know just what to say.
Yes, because he'd been too fucking stupid to say what he'd meant, which had been that Luke should just let Trevor go and look at what other options he'd had around him. People that cared about his heart, that had words of empathy and encouragement on hand at every needed moment because they were things that Harm would want to hear, if their situations were reversed. He couldn't ever badmouth Trevor - he'd learnt that early on. So he'd had to bolster Luke, remind him how wonderful he was, tell him that there was so much more for him beyond the misery he was currently feeling.
Words he'd needed to tell himself. How did Luke remember those words, if he hadn't even remembered who the fuck Harm was? Was it just some script he threw out at everyone and anyone? Had he been that stupid?
Harm struggled to keep his face neutral as Luke continued speaking, trying not to advertise that he felt like he'd taken everything said thus far directly to the solar plexus. He frowned and the air eased back into his lungs as he listened to Luke try to move them out of the clinic... so they could reconnect properly? Why was he smiling like that? It made Harm uncomfortable but even though he couldn't think particularly straight and his feelings were all over the place, he wasn't going to miss an opportunity to be close to the man he'd dreamed of for so long. At the very least, it might help him get some proper closure so he could move on and stop comparing every guy he ever met to Luke fucking Kingston.
He looked at his watch, calculating. "Yeah, it's a trip alright. I'm off at midnight, three or so hours. You want me to meet you somewhere tonight or is that too late for you?" He stood up, feeling confused and over emotional. His breathing still wasn't working in his favour. "I'll just... go get the meds while you think about it." He practically fled the exam room, not giving Luke a chance to respond. His legs weren't working properly; they felt stiff and uncoordinated as he marched down to the medications vault (it was just a room, really, but so highly secured that the staff referred to it as 'the vault'), using the badge on his lanyard reel and the keys from his pocket to get in.
Once he was inside, he leant on a cabinet for a few minutes, taking some deep, calming breaths and trying his best to get himself under control. Was this actually happening? Was he really talking to Luke after all these years, casually organising to meet up with him and have coffee later? WHY? He'd worked through this guy like a fucking grieving widow, why was he opening himself up to more pain? It was even more one-sided than ever before, because Luke claimed to have no fucking clue who he was and he was using a fake name!! That wasn't uncommon around here - Mickey Mouse and Donald Trump had had more visits to this clinic than two year olds took dumps in their pants - but it was suspicious that an upstanding guy like Luke would be doing it. The Luke he'd known had been headed for a career in law enforcement, had been so by-the-book that he hadn't been able to walk past rubbish on the college grounds without putting it in a trash can and now he had a fake identity and was cool with accepting under-the-counter meds? Did he even know this guy??
Fuck. FUCK!!
It was completely insane but he did want to meet up with him later. He was a weak, pathetic masochist but by every God in creation, he needed to know more and he hungered to be close to the sun for just one more night. It was only coffee or a meal or something. A catch-up and confessional. What could possibly go wrong? "Fuck me, you're an idiot," he sighed to himself as he unlocked the appropriate cabinets and got the medication that Luke might need out. The strongest type ought to do it, it'd cover most of the common threats and if it was more exotic... well, Luke should've had the guts to fucking show him his dick and let him take some blood, shouldn't he? Harm locked everything up behind himself and went back into the examination room, closing the door behind him.
"Here you go," he said as he walked up and stood before Luke. He watched his hands, waiting for them to take what he offered, almost afraid of looking up into Luke's eyes now. What if he saw that Luke had changed his mind, now that he'd made his up? What if he was just being nice to get the meds and would walk out now he had what he wanted? His heart was hammering - possibly because he'd stood in front of his stool rather than sitting on it and it put him between Luke's knees. Too close, really... close enough to get a sense of his size and bulk and imagine what it would be like to press into it, have him bear down and... Harm closed his eyes briefly, shoving the wanton thoughts away. Taking a breath, he looked up.
-
Just like that, Luke was alone. Harm had all but bolted. Great job setting him at ease. His smile, meant to be warm, open, reassuring, had frozen on his face. It chipped away bit by bit as he watched Harm retreat. He fell back against the seat covered his face with his hands. The reclining chair was only elevated 25 degrees, leaving him virtually horizontal. The fluorescent light overhead was stark, too bright, unforgiving. He could feel a headache budding at the crown of his skull, so he squeezed his eyes shut and drew a deep breath.
He had no right trying to be normal. Whatever Harm could tell him didn't really matter. Even if he could regain everything, even if he could step back into the life he'd been ripped from, there would still be people hunting him. There would still be a monster inside him. Knowing who he'd been in college was a luxury. The memories he needed had taken place after their time together. The normal life he was so desperate to learn about wouldn't be possible until he'd dealt with Project Twilight.
He could leave right now. Harm would probably be better off if he did. He'd become a ghost to him, and sticking around, trying to force things to work, he might as well be haunting him.
He let out a soft groan. He was rationalizing, and he knew it. He didn't want to leave to spare Harm pain, he wanted to leave because he had no idea how to do this. He was a weapon. A soldier. His attempts to be something else had been disastrous, and reconnecting with Harm looked to be more of the same. He wasn't human, he wasn't normal, and pretending otherwise was proving a painful process. His flirtations with the mundane kept turning to shit, and the only common factor among those experiences was him.
He filled his lungs again and held the air in until they began to hurt. He pressed his palms into his eyeballs, exerting slight pressure. He needed to stop pretending.
He heard the door click open and slowly sat up. He squinted against the light when he opened his eyes, and then his features resolved into storminess reflecting his deliberation. There was Harm, right in front of him, prescription bottle proffered. Luke had to look up at him, since he'd opted to stand. He reached out with his gloved hand and took it, eliciting a rattle of pill against plastic. His lips pressed together, not quite smiling. "Thanks."
His hand dropped to his lap. He could sense that Harm was waiting for him to speak. After all, he'd been left with a question, hadn't he.
"Let's start over." He forced himself to meet Harm's gaze. His voice was soft but steady. Not unkind, but matter-of-fact. "We're both coming into this with baggage. You lost me, and I was something to you. I can't say for sure what you were to me. I have nothing. Almost nothing. A few months of myself, along with these... fragments. I'm making it work, but it's barely a life. And then there's you. You're something. It's dangerous." He frowned faintly. "It's almost seductive." Saying the word made him aware of their proximity, but he forged on. "The idea that maybe you can help me get back to where I was once, who I was once." His gaze dropped to the spot on the ground between Harm's feet. "But you can't. Even if I get it all back, I can't just pick up where I left off."
Cut him loose. Let him go. He'll survive, he already did once. He'll be better off.
He looked up slowly. He worked his way up from the group, climbing Harm's scrub-clad body. Passing his hips, the way his shirt hung away from his narrow waste, his lithe torso. He marked the divot of his clavicle, the slight broadening of his shoulders, the naturally pouting lower lip. He stopped at the eyes, like tidal pools in miniature. It almost hurt to look into them. There were years of pain there, but Luke forced himself to look.
"If we're going to do this, we're strangers." The words came slowly. He couldn't throw this chance away, but he could be realistic about it. Who he was, rather than who he had been. "I don't know anything about you, but I want to. The things you know about me, they don't count anymore." He swallowed. "But there's something here. So let's try, if you want to. Midnight is fine."
He shrugged. "I don't have anywhere to be."
-
Harm's memories from college were strong when Luke started speaking, though there was an intensity to his words, a rawness that had never been part of his repertoire before. It caused him to frown but he folded his arms across his body, his hands curled around his biceps as he listened. What Luke had to say - about being fragmented and lost - tugged at Harm's heart against his will. It was a lot. So much. He'd seen less baggage at airport carousels but it didn't deter him. It intrigued him.
He nodded, the 'the things you know about me don't count anymore' statement nagging at his brain. He wanted to argue it - for he saw quite a lot that he did recognise before him - but now wasn't the time or place. He should also not be so cocky and wait to see if Luke was right. That would take time. "Cool. Where will I find you?" he asked simply. He pulled his phone out of his pants pocket and thumbed his way to a contacts entry. "And what's your number, in case something comes up?"
-
Luke watched Harm fold in on himself while he delivered his little monologue.
He waxed thoughtful, pulling up his mental map of the neighborhood. The options weren't plentiful, but it seemed better to keep things in neutral territory for now. He didn't want to meet Harm anywhere that someone in Jake's employ might see them, and he didn't want to steer things toward Harm's place, either.
"There's a diner a few blocks south of here." His brow knit as he summoned the name. "Neptune Diner? I'll be there." He hesitated slightly before rattling off the digits of his phone number. The phone number that Jake had provided him with. Why did even the aspects of the situation have to be so damn complicated?
He rose to stand carefully. For just a second, their faces were within inches of one another. He slipped to the side and pushed his hands, along with the prescription bottle, into the pockets of his sweatshirt. "See you there."
He hovered awkwardly for a few seconds before turning and heading out. He had to pause inside the security door to deal with the billing (which he handled in cash), but then he was off into the night with three hours to kill.
-
Harm watched Luke leave, holding himself rigid until the other man was out of the room and then he collapsed onto his stool, the force of it wheeling him back into the bench behind him. He doubted his own sanity but he couldn't deny the worm of excitement squirming in his belly. He had a few hours and then he'd get to see Luke again, perhaps to help him figure out what had happened in his life, perhaps to just get to know him because 'there's something here'. Something almost seductive, apparently.
God, what he'd have given to have heard those words directed at him five or six years ago.
Right now... he wasn't so sure. Luke was very different and he wasn't backwards in telling Harm that he was. He'd lost his memory - apart from a few fragments - and they were strangers. He'd been almost aggressive in that assertion. Well, perhaps 'blunt' was a better descriptor. Either way, he hadn't prevaricated as he'd said he wanted to get to know Harm anew. He'd even figured out Harm had had feelings for him in about two minutes flat and the old Luke had been fucking oblivious to it for almost three years. The words, 'I was something to you' wouldn't stop rolling around in his head, though he was quite proud of himself for not replying, 'Yes, I was in love with you, you big idiot!'. Maybe he still was.
Who was the actual idiot then, if that was the case?
~*~
Harm was running late to the diner. Someone who'd had a run-in with a particularly aggressive plate glass window (and lost) had come into the clinic at eleven thirty, needing a ton of debriding, sterilising and stitching. She'd bled everywhere, including on Harm's scrubs, which hadn't impressed him. When he'd seen her coming, he'd known she wasn't going to be a quick in and out patient and had sent Luke a text (not waiting for a reply before he pocketed the device and got to work on his patchwork patient).
I will be a little late but I'm still coming! Trying to stitch as fast as I can. Damn these late, bloody customers!
- Harm.
Luckily, he had a hoodie in his backpack so he could pull that on over his blooded shirt. The few drips that had landed on his pants were less noticeable and he anticipated the table would conceal them. He felt disgusting, wishing he was able to shower at the clinic but he didn't want to waste any more time. By ten past twelve, he'd finished scrubbing his skin clean, pulled on his black jumper (checking he hadn't ruined his hair in the process) and thrown all his gear into his backpack. Clipping his helmet into place, he wheeled his bicycle out onto the street and rode south the short distance he needed to, hastening to chain his bike to a sturdy railing outside the Neptune Diner. He'd stopped here a lot on his way home.
Bounding up the steps (fuelled by pure adrenaline rather than actual energy reserves), Harm entered the diner carrying his helmet and pulling his bag off his back. He spied Luke quickly, facing the door - so that he'd find him more easily, he assumed. Harm appreciated the gesture, unaware that militant types had a need to observe all entries and exits to a place just in case. He walked straight up and slid into the seat on the opposite side of Luke's booth at exactly twelve sixteen, placing his belongings on the seat beside him. Their knees brushed in the minimal space below the table and Harm hoped he didn't blush as he slid one of his feet past Luke's, so that their legs alternated.
By the time he looked up, there was a waitress beside the table. "Hey Harm, how was your night?" she asked.
Harm dragged his gaze away from Luke's beautiful face and eyed the waitress. Her name was Sandra but her name badge said, 'Sandy', even though she was well into her fifties and the name didn't suit her squareish, sombre features. He smiled at her anyway. "Bit messy, Sandy, how's yours been?" he queried.
"Living the dream. What can I get for you tonight?"
He chuckled at her acerbic answer, not needing to look at a menu and deliberating briefly; he only needed to consult his stomach to see how empty it was to know what to order. "Hmn, a beef and bacon burger and fries, thanks. With a Coke. And... maybe some french toast afterwards, but I'll see how I go," he winked, then looked inquisitively at Luke's lonely-looking glass of water and cup of coffee. "You want anything?" he queried.
Once Luke had given his answer, Sandy left and Harm leant forward, arms folded comfortably and elbows resting on the table. "Thanks for waiting for me. Bad timing. Everything tends to go to shit right around midnight," he sighed. It turned into a yawn and he lifted a hand to cover his mouth, rubbing at his face with it before dropping his elbow back down. He tilted his head and fitted his jaw into the palm of his hand, observing Luke through eyes that were an even more iridescent aquamarine and shinier than usual, due to his tiredness. He smiled with the left side of his mouth. "I still can't believe it's you," he confessed, his voice soft and husky.
-
He started walking as soon as he hit the sidewalk. With everything else going on, he hadn't realized how uncomfortable a brush with the medical establishment made him. By the time he was halfway down the block, he'd wandered down some strange mental corridors. After all, a clinic like Harm's would be a fantastic place to "recruit patients" for a shadowy organization that was making supernatural modifications to human beings. Anonymity and poverty would go a long way towards ensuring that those who went missing weren't actually missed...
A siren howling a few streets away tugged him out of his conspiracy theory. He glanced around. The streets weren't dead, but they seemed to be dying. The people milling about either did so quickly so that they'd make it home to their families or slowly because they had nowhere to go. Not much was open - just a deli on the far corner, and a fried chicken place that was seeing some steady late night traffic from the drugged and drunk. Most of the businesses nearby weren't just closed- they were shuttered, long-vacant, the leasing signs stained and faded with age. He strode quickly down the sidewalk, pulling his hood up. He might not have had much to fear physically, but it would be better to avoid potential encounters entirely. He frowned, imagining Harm making this same walk. Something about it discomforted him, and he almost considered picking him up at the end of his shift.
He didn't have any plans for how to span the gulf of time that lay before him. He wasn't going back to the White Rabbit. It would be strange for him to come in and then go out again, arousing interest he really didn't care to contend with. He continued toward the diner, but paused as he passed a bar. It was barely recognizable as such from the worn exterior. The signage was so faded that he couldn't make out the name. There was tinny music that he could only classify as "kind of Spanish" drifting into the street from it, though, and as he got closer he could hear murmurs of conversation from within.
He pushed inside and had a look around. There wasn't much to it - a bar, some tables, a juke box that was only half lit up. The few souls therein regarded him dubiously before going back to their drinking and talking. That seemed like as much of an invitation as he was likely to get, so he crossed to the bar and ordered a Modelo. The bartender nodded at him and slid the bottle across the counter. Luke scooped it up and stalked to a table with a doorway vantage point.
Three beers later, he checked his phone. The hours had passed quickly. His encounter with Harm seemed to have kicked something over in his brain, and it was easy to let his mind wander while he waited. Mostly, he tried to recall what he could of the college-era memories he'd recovered. Focusing on them, he was pretty sure he knew who Trevor was- the most oft-featured character in the vignettes, and there were enough kisses and closeness that their relationship was confirmed. No other glimpses of Harm, though, or how he fit in to the life Luke had lost.
Harm had already let him know he'd been late (Luke's response: "see you then"), so Luke hadn't been vigilant about keeping track of time. When his phone buzzed again (a text notifying him that two of the vampires from his patrol unit were switching shifts this week), he saw "11:57" and swore. He hustled out, leaving more than enough cash to cover his beers on the counter, and then jogged over to the diner.
"Just sit anywhere," the older woman behind the counter called when she saw him standing just inside the entrance. He staked out a booth and slid habitually into the seat facing the door. He glanced at his phone. Nothing from Harm.
A few minutes later, the woman slid a massive laminated menu in front of him, and a glass of water. He ordered a coffee and then studied the seemingly endless list of food options distractedly. The door opened three more times, and on the third, Harm finally arrived. Luke smiled, lifting his hand in an easy wave. As Harm slid in across from him, their legs ended up a bit tangled. Some strange instinct urged him to nudge Harm under the table playfully, but he didn't give in. It was strange, akin to muscle-memory, but it didn't feel like his own.
He cocked a brow when the waitress appeared almost immediately, and his eyebrow sketched up farther when Harm ordered. He ordered tilapia with mixed vegetables for himself, and more coffee. When she was gone he looked across the table at Harm. Sleepy Harm. It was endearing, and Luke couldn't help the gentle smile that formed on his lips.
"And I can't believe you're going to eat all that. I would have guessed you were a salad guy." He was sitting up, his hands clasped around his mug. He lifted them briefly when Sandy cruised by with his refill, but returned them in short order. He'd spread his legs, briefly brushing against Harm's in the process, but after that they were free of footsies concerns - both of Harm's legs could fit between his wide stance. "But yeah. It's me. I guess." He lifted his mug, looking down at it, and then occupied himself with a sip.
"I guess... tell me about yourself? I'd offer to do the same but there really isn't much." He set the mug down again, regarding Harm with obvious curiosity.
-
"It's been a long shift. And there's salad on the burger," he justified, grinning. His expression sobered as he observed Luke's conflict with not knowing who he was. His turmoil was palpable and Harm couldn't imagine how lost he must feel. He wanted to reach over and touch him, squeeze his hand, something, but he refrained. He watched the way his old friend's eyes lowered to his mug, his gaze lingering on Luke's lips. He'd always had the most beautiful, kissable lips, so plump and pink and definitely wasted on the likes of that coffee mug. Harm blinked and cleared his throat a little as he was invited to talk about himself.
"Nothing very interesting to tell about me. I have two brothers, one older, one much younger - he's fourteen, lives with my parents. I get out to see them whenever I can, my brother comes to stay with me some weekends. I split my time between the hospital - where I get paid - and the clinic we met in - where I don't." He fell victim to gazing at Luke's lips again, feeling mellow and distracted. His Coke being delivered forced him to sit up off his hand, blinking and taking a drink to help him wake up.
"I met you when I was eighteen. We started college in the same intake. I met Trevor first and you through him. There was a pretty sizeable group of us - twelve? Fifteen? Something like that - and we were the usual young, dumb and full of... well," he laughed it off, blushing as he took another sip of his drink. He'd need another one by the time his food came, at the rate he was going. "We were the gay scene on campus, anyway. And off, when we ventured out to the clubs here in the city itself. After a while, you and Trevor became a thing. You and I were only ever friends but... you'd confide in me, when things weren't great with Trevor. You'd talk, I'd listen, then you'd go back to him. We were just friends," he finished quietly.
He fiddled with his drink, knowing he should admit the rest - Luke had practically guessed anyway, so what did it even matter? - but so nervous about it. It was humiliating. It was his life. He looked up at Luke through his lashes, his mouth twisting to the side while he debated. He sighed, just tired enough that his inhibitions had loosened, just impatient enough with holding it in for years that he needed to say it. "I was in love with you. Nothing ever happened between us, though, it was all one sided. You barely noticed me, I think. You were in love with Trevor, though I saw him with other guys, towards the end. I never told you." Harm shrugged, sitting back as their food was delivered. He was grateful for its appearance. "Now you know my dirty little secret," he said with false cheer, winking at Luke and popping a chip into his mouth.
-
Luke leaned forward bare inches, his hands still surrounding the mug, leeching heat from it. He drew it to his mouth for a slow, bitter sip while he listened to Harm's story. The casual way he started with his family only served to reinforce just how different their lives were. Luke knew he had parents - he'd only been made monstrous in a lab, not grown in one. He'd caught glimpses of them in his memories as well; only Trevor appeared more frequently. He hadn't looked for them though. He knew they were out there, but there was no way they weren't being watched. Contacting them would only put them in danger, and without any actual feelings for them, it wasn't worth the risk.
His interest was visibly more acute when Harm moved on to their college days. He sat forward a bit, sliding the mug forward and resting his elbows on the table. It was strange to hear Harm say we and mean for Luke to be part of it when it wasn't a part of him. It sounded nice, though. A big group of friends, a boyfriend, a confidante. He didn't interrupt until Harm mentioned clubbing. He shared a memory he'd uncovered, one of a group of gay men, himself included, hitting up a pizza place. His smile grew dazzling when Harm confirmed it, and he urged him to continue.
His expression softened along with Harm's voice. Listening to it, Luke couldn't help but get the impression that he'd been using Harm. Picking him up when things were rough, then putting him back down when they weren't. There was no guilt attached to it, because he hadn't done it, but as a semi-impartial observer, it sounded like he'd taken his friend for granted at the very least. He almost wanted to apologize on his own behalf, but that would just be more pretending.
He'd been holding the mug, frozen on the way to another sip by his inability to think of anything worthwhile to say. He couldn't re-write the past, and his concept of the future was even more fragile and uncertain. He watched as Harm worked through a decision. He was sure it would be something negative about him- an elaboration on his being an asshole, something embarrassing, like Luke making a drunken pass at him. Harm would probably realize that Luke hadn't sussed out the exact nature of what he meant to him when he made his revelation. Luke's eyebrows hedged in, and the muscles behind his cheeks stood out as he pressed his jaw together.
He sat in stunned silence as the plates of food were delivered, running his thumb along the handle of the mug. He mumbled thanks to the waitress without even looking up; he couldn't take his eyes off of Harm. It wasn't as if the admission had potent emotional impact. Harm's love only existed in the past, and it belonged to someone that Luke didn't actually know. Harm's vulnerability, his willingness to be vulnerable, was what had blind-sided him.
"Thanks for... letting me know." He set the coffee down, resting his gloved right hand on the bundle of silverware wrapped in a plain napkin, but he didn't open it yet. His brow furrowed. "Nothing ever happened?" His tone held a strained note of incredulity as he regarded the man on the other side of the booth. He'd more or less assumed that they'd at least fooled around. He would have been happy to have Harm in his bed, or anywhere, for that matter. It was hard to look at that tangled, sandy hair and not want to run his fingers through it, or better yet, grab hold and use it to...
He shook his head, not actually giving Harm a chance to respond to the question. Regarding the tilapia a little dubiously, he finally unfurled his silverware and speared off a piece with his fork, talking all the while. "I must have been pretty oblivious. I can't really say for certain, but there's no way I didn't notice you. You're... very noticeable." He faint grin he offered Harm was conspiratorial, accompanied by an almost imperceptible shrug of his broad shoulders. "His loss." He smiled before popping the bit of fish into his mouth and letting it flake and melt away. The tilapia exceeded his expectations, but he did reach with his left hand to squeeze some lemon over it. He looked up at Harm as he assembled a forkful that included both fish and a floret of limp broccoli.
-
Harm nodded solemnly at the thanks but then Luke went on with such surprising and flattering comments that he had to put his burger - which he’d been carefully picking up to bite - back down on his plate because he was giggling too much. And blushing all the way to his toes. As Luke continued complimenting him and finished with that flippant-yet-decisive ‘his loss’, the giggles became a giddy petal of laughter, full of life and appreciation.
It was surreal, to have pined for this big, beautiful man for so long and get next to nothing in return but now sit here and have him not believe they didn’t hook up. The fucking irony. There’d been more than one quasi-intervention because of the group’s suspicion that Harm was doing his best to get between the Golden Couple and they didn’t like it. They’d told him he was embarrassing himself and making everyone uncomfortable, so he should just back off, not believing him when he claimed Luke sought him out because he liked to talk. Their belief that something fishy was going on - when Harm was wishing with all his body that it was - had been the highlight of his love for Luke (pathetic as it was) because it’d given him hope that someone saw something.
But never Luke, unfortunately.
Thinking about ‘fishy’ and looking at Luke’s food almost got him laughing again but he looked up at the ceiling in order to pull himself together, black eyelashes fluttering as he fought off the mirth. It bubbled happily in his chest, warming him as he let out a luxuriating sigh, stretching his face to feel if tears had leaked out of his eyes.
Finally, he looked back at Luke, his eyes twinkling with the humour of the situation. “I swear to you, the highlight of our time together was a hug when you sort of, mayyyybe brushed my cheek with your lips - it really couldn’t have been called a kiss - as you pulled back to leave the party we were at and run off to find your boyfriend. And how does the saying go? You think I’m hot? You should see the other bitch,” he quipped, waggling his eyebrows and pursing his lips exaggeratedly. “Trevor was off-the-charts pretty. You two together were just ri-dic-u-lous-ly gorgeous!” he announced, accompanied by a dismissive wave of his hand.
He knew the ‘you should see the other guy” saying generally referred to the outcome of fisticuffs but he was pretty sure Luke would understand his play on words, along with all the rest of his comments. At least, he hoped he would. Harm was going for a laugh like the tension-releasing one he’d had thanks to Luke and they’d always used to get each other’s jokes and one-liners. A lot had changed, however and he suddenly felt nervous that he was being too silly, too casual, too extra. In the face of Luke’s serious facade, that was an easy assumption to make. He went back to finessing his burger into his long fingers, watching his companion surreptitiously for his reaction.
-
Amusement glinted in Luke's eyes as he watched Harm's mirth bubble forth. His aspect was almost academic as he drank in the sight and sounds of it. Since escaping, he'd learned he excelled at several things, most of them militant. Humor definitely wasn't on the list. At best, he managed a fair deadpan, sarcasm born of the fatalism he'd adopted while scrounging to survive. He'd earned appreciative chuckles here and there, or a roll of the eyes accompanied by a smile, but never anything like this. He couldn't imagine himself engaging in that kind of laughter, never mind provoking it. Puzzlement settled into place on his features as Harm carried on, but a slow smile had settled into place on his full lips.
The cheerfulness was alluring in a way he didn't grasp. The whole process was just so inefficient, so energy-intensive. Luke prided himself on brutal effectiveness, on economy of movement and thought. Wasted effort translated into death or dismemberment in his world. What was it like, to not have to abide by those rules? It wasn't as if Harm's world was devoid of consequences. His profession was just as bloody as Luke's, if not more, but somehow he managed to laugh at the end of long shift. What had he lost that defined this difference between them? Or was he ever like that?
Harm's descriptions were like listening to gossip about people he didn't know. There was a hint of entertainment value, sure, but it didn't mean much. He tried to picture himself as part of a power couple that a social group had hinged upon. He tried to imagine a life where his biggest problem was that his beautiful boyfriend had been cheating on him. Harm wasn't wrong - Trevor was flawless, at least physically, from the glimpses Luke had caught of him in his stolen past. But he was just a pretty face in a photograph. Calling him to mind didn't summon any thrill or dredge up any emotion.
Not like Jake. Thinking of the Ventrue never failed to impact his mood in some way. Usually it was annoyance or frustration, but the lust was undeniable. He still woke up hard from Jake dreams every so often. He still had to bury himself in business whenever he was at hand, which fortunately had been less and less often of late.
Not like Harm, either. Something about the man was pulling at him. It wasn't at all the raw, wild appeal of his vampiric benefactor. It was endearing. It was warm. He'd smiled more across from Harm in a diner tonight than he had in the last several months.
A smile was all Harm got for his efforts to share his laughter, but it was at least an earnest smile. Luke shook his head. "I've seen him. At least, I'm pretty sure it's him." Now that he thought on it, there were a lot of physical similarities between Harm and the person he was pretty sure was Trevor. Blond, blue eyes, slender builds. No wonder Harm had a bit of a complex.
He set down his fork and paid attention to his coffee for a while. "I'm trying to picture it. All of it. What if I'd never had my accident, you know?" He shook his head. "I just can't. Maybe I'm just not imaginative enough, but it seems like... a bad TV show, or something. Poorly written. Flat characters." He took a slow sip from his mug.
His voice was soft. "Tell me about me. What I was like. What I did, besides chase Trevor around. Who I was." Why you loved me, he didn't add. He wanted impartiality he wasn't sure Harm could deliver. It wasn't that he mistrusted him; he just got the sense that Harm's view of him had been decidedly rose-tinted.
-
Harm had taken the opportunity of Luke's ruminative words to tuck into his burger, nodding or adding an exclamatory, 'Mhmm,' where appropriate but mainly focussing his energy on eating. He was starving but also nervous and the food gave him something to do with his hands that wasn't reaching out to touch Luke. He was determined not to be that guy again, the puppy that followed his master, wagging his tail hopefully whenever he was looked at. He was older, wiser. He wasn't even convinced that what he'd felt for Luke had been genuine love. It'd seemed so, to someone as inexperienced as he'd been but hindsight raised some valid questions.
Or maybe it was just that Luke was so different now. He could imagine how difficult it would be to have snippets of memories come at you randomly, not knowing who anyone in them was. Or caring. That was perhaps the greatest tragedy, considering how warm Luke had once been. Either way, it was a good idea to take this carefully, not throw himself at the pretty face he'd once known, because there was now a darkness behind those eyes that scared him. It was the kind of drifting, untempered rage that sought a home - or a target - and didn't much care what or who got in the way, as long as it got to unleash every now and then. It was borne of despair and nurtured in abandonment and Harm wasn't confident he had the fortitude to weather that storm. Not without a very good cause and the promise of being met halfway, anyway.
Conceding that he didn't have enough time to finish the burger before he had to respond, Harm put it down and reached for some napkins, wiping juices off his hands and face. He remained blissfully unaware that he'd left a smear of ketchup halfway up his right cheek. He took a sip of his drink before he started talking.
"Okay. The Story of Luke Kingston: The College Years," he began with appropriate drama (and an inappropriately cheeky grin), his tongue sweeping around inside his mouth to usher bits of meat and lettuce out from between his teeth to be swallowed. He reached under the table and linked the fingers of both hands around one of his knees, tilting his head to the left as he composed his thoughts and memories into some sort of order.
"To begin with, you were sporty. You were on the wrestling team - I can't remember if you had a scholarship or not," he frowned, looking momentarily at Luke like he'd be able to clarify for him before he shook his head dismissively. Of course he couldn't. "Anyway, you wrestled and you were into martial arts. You did that with your roommate, Jin. I think he got you into it, actually, and you loved it.
"So, whenever you had spare time, you sparred with Jin or you were training for wrestling meets. Maybe I made it sound like you and I hung out a lot, but we didn't, really. Not in the beginning. Weekend parties, clubbing with everyone, occasional group study sessions, that was about it. Sometimes, between classes, you and your jock friends would hang out on the grassy quad, throwing balls around. Somehow, one of you always produced one from thin air - I never did figure out that magic trick - and then there'd be a whole group of hot, shirtless guys getting sweaty in the sun, throwing stuff at each other. That was the only spectator sport I was interested in. Ahh, it was a thing of beauty," Harm grinned, fluttering his eyelashes playfully as he remembered those golden days.
"As a person you were funny, kind and so honest. Sometimes rigidly so. You got uptight when people broke too many rules, when they were disloyal or just plain assholes. You were big on authority but you loved debating everything," Harm rolled his eyes for emphasis, rocking slightly on the seat due to his posture. "You were a high level debater in high school and you did. Not. Let. That. Shit. Go in college. You'd debate anything, anyone, anywhere, anytime," he laughed at the memory. "You kept up with all the current events in the world and you were smart. About everything.
"You could be really obnoxious, though. If you were in one of your righteous moods, you'd go for hours, at a club, a party or a cafe, you didn't care about anything except running through victim after victim, badgering them into submission until they either walked away laughing or telling you to go fuck yourself. You'd argue about everything. Trevor was the only one who could handle you, when you were like that, the only one who matched your level of... zeal," he eventually added, tasting the word he finally settled on.
"It's part of what made you two awesome. You both became, like, energised by the arguing, whipping yourselves into a debating frenzy and then going off to work it out in bed, I guess. It was like some weird foreplay, at times. Intense and strange to watch. It was pretty jaw-dropping, all that passion." Harm lowered his eyes and dropped his leg, using his hand to feed a couple more fries to himself. He frowned, speaking after he'd chewed and swallowed most of his mouthful.
"You were the kind of honest, trustworthy guy that everybody was happy to call a friend. You always did the right thing. Like, you never walked past rubbish without picking it up or a wild chair without pushing it in - I do that to this day, because of you, heh. You were kind, you never put up with anyone bullying people, you stood up for anyone that couldn't do it themselves. Girls loved you, guys wanted to be you, that kind of thing. You were a little bit too good to be true, really, but you were true. Loyal to a fault. Honest. Upstanding.
"When Trevor started pulling away from you, you kinda lost your shit. You didn't get it. You expected everybody to be like you, I don't think you were prepared for just how shitty people can really be. It was towards the end of our second year that it started. That's when you and I got closer, because I'd listen to you. Debate you sometimes but mostly, just... be a friend. You always thanked me, always told me I knew just what to say. But I could never tell you the truth about Trevor, so I felt like a hypocrite. Trevor moved beyond you, to... new people, new friends that you didn't approve of. He got pretty wild and you... that wasn't you. Sure, you knew how to have a good time, but nothing crazy or dangerous. Trevor wanted all of that, you wanted none of it but yet you still tried to make it work, because it was in your nature. Loyal to a fault," he said, his voice apologetic as he implied the bitter side of those words, which should have only been good.
"Did you ever become a cop?" he asked, not interested in pursuing the line of conversation where Harm explained in vivid detail just how blind to Trevor Luke had been and how he'd humiliated himself for a man that hadn't deserved him. It was implied. Surely that was enough. He went back to eating his burger, ready to put it back down if there was something deeply interrogative coming his way.
-
The ketchup was a distraction on Harm's cheek, standing out and tugging at his attention throughout the entire recitation. Part of him wanted to reach over and delete it, and part of him wanted to let Harm know so he could take care of it. He reached an impasse with himself and ended up doing nothing at all, doing his best to ignore it. The only thing that helped was focusing on Harm's lips while he spoke. His words were more than just words. They were his past, the absence of which had haunted him on a nightly basis every since torn himself free of Project Twilight.
They were proof that he'd been nothing other than human once.
He tried to see himself in Harm's depiction, to home in on what elements of his personality had survived the conditioning and psychic tampering he'd endured. It made sense that he'd been a combat-athlete. No doubt that was one of the criteria for being a Special Asset, whatever that meant.
As Harm continued, Luke came to a realization: his former existence sounded tedious. Sports competitions, parties and clubs, asserting his intelligence by badgering people- he could do without the lot of it. Not to mention the unfaithful boyfriend who he'd apparently went off the rails for. College-Luke plenty had time for that kind of bullshit. He'd been blissfully unaware of the monsters that stalked the city, or worse, the people who made monsters themselves. Present-Luke had to keep himself honed to a knife's edge. Even if he could have carried out a normal social life, he was beginning to doubt that he would.
He'd sort of started zoning out at some point, focused more on reconciling his past and present selves than what Harm was actually saying. His features remained set and intense all the while, evincing his wandering attention not at all. It wasn't until the flow of Harm's voice shifted that he paid attention again. The interrogative was different enough that it pulled his conscious mind back into the booth.
Did you ever become a cop?
His gloved hand closed on a napkin. He leaned and reached forward to wipe away the splotch of ketchup. The napkin kept his thumb from making contact with Harm's soft cheek, but the covered tips of his ring and pinky fingers did brush gently over the other man's jawline in the process. It was over in an instant. He retracted his arm and leaned back in his seat, crumpling the napkin and dropping it on the table near his plate. "Sorry, it was bugging me."
A not-inconsiderable portion of his time in the Mexican bar had been spent sorting out what he was going to tell Harm when the conversation inevitably turned to his current life. As such, he had his pseudo-truths, devoid of detail, at the ready. He puzzled visibly over the question for a few seconds before offering a shrug.
"Not really, but kind of. I'm a security consultant, so I guess there are some parallels, but... well, I don't think they mint many amnesiac cops." He allowed a self-deprecating smile to touch his lips. He reached for his coffee, lacing his left hand through the handle partway. "I lead a pretty quiet life. I work a lot. I get the feeling I'm in line for a promotion, and the work is pretty interesting, so sometimes it feels like all I do." He shook his head. "Honestly this is the most social I've been in months." His nose wrinkled. "My latest attempt to blow off some steam landed me in a clinic, which reminds me-"
He'd been waiting to get some food in him before taking the meds. The bottle rattled when he withdrew it from him sweatshirt pocket. He worked the cap off and spilled a dose of germ-killers into his palm and then popped them neatly into his mouth. He washed it down with black coffee, swallowing thoroughly, and then grinned almost sheepishly Harm's way.
"Thanks by the way. Where was I? Oh, yeah- it will be a while before I do that again."
-
When Luke leant towards him to wipe his face, Harm instinctively flinched back, looking at the gloved hand warily until he processed that it had a napkin in it. He held himself rigid while his face was wiped, blushing at being treated like a child with food all over his face. The gentle brush of Luke's fingers against his face was a surprise; it sent a ripple of awareness through him. "It's okay. Sorry," he said shyly, lowering his gaze to the last bite of his burger and hoping the heat he felt in the tops of his ears wasn't as obvious as his red cheeks were (it was a flagging hope).
Sorry I've been hit too often to trust you. Sorry I'm a mess and can't eat tidily. Sorry I made you touch me. Sorrynotsorry at the last one.
He glanced up as Luke answered his question, his breath catching at that little smile. It brightened his face and made him so much sexier that Harm had to fight to concentrate on what he was saying. Interestingly, they were in exactly the same place in their lives; overworked and underplayed. Harm's eyebrows shot up at the implication Luke had been relieving some work stress by fucking around and ended up with a potential disease. He watched the medication be swallowed, finding it difficult to reel his imagination back into line. Luke. Fucking some guy. Yeah, that was the kind of imagery that had sent him off to sleep for years. He didn't need those urges riled up again.
"De nada," he dismissed the thanks for the pills, confident it wouldn't become problematic for him. He'd done similar things his whole career, learning quickly how flexible rules were in needy communities like the Brazilian Quarter. He giggled at Luke's final statement. "What? It'll be a while before you have sex again?" he chuckled, a twinkle in his eyes. "You should probably give it a week but I dunno if you need to abstain for 'a while," he teased, wiping his hands - and especially his face - carefully now that he'd finished all his food (bar a few chips).
-
Luke didn’t react visibly when Harm shied away from his hand, but the wariness followed by embarrassment stirred some mental sediment. Protectiveness was a quality he’d come to consider a pillar of his self, but it had only applied generally until Harm flinched. He’d decided to protect mortals from supernaturals, to protect Jake’s territory from the other factions within the city, to protect others from the darkness lurking inside him, but there had never been a specific person he’d wanted to protect.
Now, it seemed, there was.
He stowed that thought temporarily becauseHarmhadjustaskedhimaboutsex! Not just that, but he was making fun of him. He’d brought him on itself but given the dynamic they’d apparently had once upon a time, he had been expecting him to sidestep. Both of Luke’s eyebrows lifted in response, and he took a diplomatic sip of coffee.
“No. Well. Yes? It will be a while, hopefully an indefinite while, before I go out prowling for it again.” He pursed his lips. “It’s not as if I’m suddenly sex-phobic or something. I did something stupid in a weak moment and I don’t even-“ He shook his head. “Actually, nope, let’s just drop it.” He sounded annoyed, but it was aimed at himself.
He exhaled. “What about you? Any men in your life?” His tone was friendly, even if the rhetorical deflection was blatantly obvious. He wouldn’t seem salacious, just interested- making conversation. He relaxed back in the booth, lofting his mug. He looked to have forgotten completely about his half-finished food.
-
Harm smiled and chuckled to himself as Luke insisted they drop the subject of sex. Was he actually shy about it? When they were younger he'd never been a boaster but he'd been hot-blooded enough to engage in sexual banter and discussion without shutting it down. Harm sobered when he rationalised that he was probably appearing prudish now due to embarrassment. The whole unsafe sex and clinic visit wasn't something to joke about and him laughing in Luke's face might be misconstrued; he was amused by how cute Luke was when he seemed shy, not because he'd fucked himself into an awkward position. Corner? Whatever. He made sure he was looking sympathetic rather than judgey.
When Luke asked his question and relaxed back, Harm scoffed and leant forward over the table. He glanced sideways, as if he was afraid of someone overhearing him (there was no-one even nearby) and then eyed Luke with raised eyebrows. "Let me tell you something," he began conspiratorially. "You don't know me, but believe me when I tell you: I have a superpower." He gave it a moment for that statement to sink in, the twinkle in his blue-green eyes growing as he poured himself into this persona with gusto.
"It's true. Put me in a room - any room where there's a selection of men, a club, a bar, the fucking library - and I will unerringly find the only emotionally unavailable male in the place. It's my gift. He doesn't even have to be emotionally unavailable, possibly just plain unavailable - married, in a relationship and looking to cheat, experimenting - I will find him. I won't even date him once, oh no, I'm fucking good at this superpower. I will date him for at least a month and then I'll figure out how screwed up he is. If there's not some potential humiliation or a bit of emotional savagery in it for me, then I just haven't done my job as thoroughly as I can guarantee you I'm able," he nodded sombrely.
He smiled deprecatingly and sat back a little. "Short answer: I'm hopelessly single. I make too many bad choices so I'm burying myself in work for a while. I had a tough breakup last year and I'm more of a serial monogamist than a casual fling-type guy - though I've been there, too. I seem to have a weakness for asshole doctors. They are the worst. D'you know, I actually had one tell me I was just his 'experimental phase' but that he's actually straight? After he did things with me that are not polite to talk about in public," he grinned, looking around again for emphasis. "Pfft, that fucker is gayer than a Cher concert in San Francisco and he had the hide to blow me off with his winds of denial? Fucking please," Harm snorted, picking up his Coke, only to realise it was finished.
He raised his empty glass towards where Sandy was, behind the counter, pouting at her and pointing at it, silently entreating her for another. She nodded, raising a finger to show she'd be just a minute, while she finished whatever she was doing, and he turned back to smile at Luke.
-
He cocked a brow when Harm leaned in, and it only climbed further up his forehead when he divulged his superpower. For a split second, Luke's mind shifted into a freewheeling panic. Harm might have divined a hint of nervousness while he kept Luke hanging. Rational Luke knew he was being figurative, joking, but Crazypants Luke was the one at the pulpit while silence reigned. What were the odds that his college friend was something other than human? What were the odds that he would be telling Luke if he were?
He didn't have much interaction with normal people. The White Rabbit was replete with monsters and people who were in on it, so casually learning that someone who looked otherwise mundane was actually a were-turtle or godknowswhatelse was de rigeur. It was going to be difficult keeping up the act if he and Harm ended up spending more time together... which was the first time he'd considered the prospect. He turned the notion over in his mind and realized that so far, he wanted to.
The faint tension bled out of him immediately when Harm went into his bit. Luke's lips bent into a smirk, and amusement danced in his eyes. Taken as is, it really wasn't all that funny. Harm's love-life sounded miserable, and Luke had two equally ugly thoughts simultaneous. Either: 1.) his experience loving Luke without reciprocity had done some damage or 2.) the damage had always been there and Luke was just the first of an apparent legion. Yeah, definitely not funny. Harm seemed to want it to be funny, though, so Luke embraced it, appreciating the delivery more than the content.
He's single. The notion surfaced while he tracked Harm's attention to Sandy. He lifted his tepid mug of coffee to indicate that he was ready for a refill as well and save her a trip, all the while processing. What did it matter if Harm was single? Present-Luke wasn't all that emotionally available, or generally available. He didn't have the time or patience for the double-life it would require, or the solipsism necessary to expose Harm to the danger that defined his existence.
He was lost in thought for a few long seconds, but he snapped out of it and offered a distracted smile. He replayed what Harm had said quickly, then shrugged. "Apparently the last guy I dated was cheating on me. I'm not sure who wins this tilt." He set down his mug at the edge of the table so Sandy would have easy access. His brow knit, and he met Harm's eyes briefly before he continued. "I'm with you though. I think single is better for me, too. My life really isn't right for anything other than flings and... I guess I'm with you on that. At the time it seems great, but afterwards you realize you were better off just taking care of things yourself." His smirk reappeared.
Sandy trundled up, sliding Harm his Coke and refilling Luke's mug. "I'll be back for those plates in a minute. You want me to pack that up?" She nodded at Luke's plate, and he shook his head in response. "How about dessert for you boys?" She lifted an eyebrow at Harm. "French toast?" Luke regarded him from across the table, as if to say, your call.
-
"Oh, I do. One hundred percent," Harm argued when Luke suggested he might have a chance at winning the who-had-the-worst-dating-record contest. His deadpan expression quickly shifted into something more playful. As Luke went on to agree with him, he sighed and nodded but his wistful response was interrupted by Sandy's appearance at the table.
"I did not eat those," he grinned, pointing to the leftover fries on his plate, "specifically so I could get the french toast!" he beamed, extremely proud of himself. "We can share, if you want?" he offered, looking at Luke. He wasn't sure that he was all that hungry but he didn't want his conversation with Luke to end so soon. He was enjoying being able to look at him again very much - and the air between them was becoming more relaxed as time went on. The way Luke was looking at him, it seemed like his companion was advocating for dragging this little reunion out, also. "Maybe a scoop of ice cream, Sandy? But no bacon," he warned with a wink. That would just be excessive.
When she walked away, he shifted position on the seat, moving his legs around. He bumped into Luke's and, deliberately, left his calf leaning against Luke's calf while he pulled his other leg up onto the seat beside him, to hug. "Yeah," he sighed, "but I have to admit, it's been... a while now. And I'm beginning to really miss it. I mean, I'm excellent in the sack, don't get me wrong," he joked, holding a hand horizontal to the table as he made his point but then he relaxed, his shoulders drooping, "but I miss that feeling of human contact, those unexpected treats of touch and sensation, the pressure of being held down and pushed into, the-" he broke off with a dramatic sigh, his cheeks flushing because he was letting his imagination get away from him.
"Bah, you know what I mean," he smiled poutily, leaning his head against his knee. "I imagine that's exactly what got you out of the house last night." He held back a wink, not wanting to tease.
-
Luke smiled and shrugged. "Sure." It didn't seem worth mentioning that he almost never ate sugar. Harm might have noticed that he didn't take much joy in eating at all. Diner tilapia was not a delicacy by any measure, but Luke hadn't seemed interested in tasting it. He'd eaten mechanically, dutifully, only what he needed. He skewed toward protein and cruciferous vegetables when he could, prepared simply. His body was a machine, well-honed, and it didn't run on sweets. He wasn't about to cast a shadow on an evening that was going remarkably well by taking a stand against sucrose, though.
His smile curved wider when Harm's repositioning just happened to bump their legs together. He opened up his hips and nudged against Harm's calf playfully with his own. Harm no doubt appreciated the visual elements of Luke's body, but coming into actual contact with it might prove surprising. The muscle sheathed in jean was implacable, with a circumference similar to Harm's thigh. He let his leg rest just like that, feeling the warmth at the point of contact.
Luke listened with keen interest as Harm picked up the conversation where they'd left off. Where did he get all this energy? There was a performative aspect to Harm's side of the conversation that Luke found both mystifying and adorable. If it were up to him, he would have just sat back and born witness to the one-man-show. When things took a graphic turn he was even more acutely aware of their legs pressed together. Was Harm... trying to seduce him? His experience with seduction was limited so far, but it felt like it, in a sort of goofy way.
"Something like that, yeah." His grin looked like it had snagged on something. His dalliances hadn't had anything to do with human contact. How exactly was he supposed to tell Harm that? Actually, I have monster parts and I'm pretty sure that they make me some kind of sexual predator when my guard is down. It was more like potential energy gathering that needed to be released. Neither of his post-escape sexual liaisons had been warm or cuddly. He'd damn-near brutalized Riley. Last night he'd unloaded, buttoned up, and left the guy dazed in the bathroom stall. It was telling that he could only remember what the back of his head looked like.
He pushed the gloved hand through his hair and then smoothed it back down. It hadn't escaped his notice that Harm had alluded to a more passive, submissive role in the bedroom. It hadn't escaped the notice of the darker urges that dwelt inside him, either. His leg shifted, rubbing their calves together again. "For me, I just get... pent up. At some point the hand just doesn't cut it. Eventually my brain isn't really calling the shots anymore." He chuckled, but it was devoid of humor. "I can get kind of aggressive, I guess. It's not great, honestly. Something I have to work on."
His brow knit. "Did we ever talk about sex, you know, before?" He was curious what he'd been like- where the similarities lay, and what the differences were.
-
Harm was not-so-secretly pleased that Luke didn't pull away from his tentative leg touch; a happy warmth spread through his chest at the way Luke nudged him back (though he was initially disturbed that it was the table leg against his, so hard was the muscle pressed against his thin scrubs). Luke's accompanying grin took the rigid man before him much closer to his younger, more carefree aspect, too, igniting a longing in Harm that he thought he'd abandoned years ago. It only intensified as Luke ruffled his golden hair and rubbed his leg again, discussing how aggressive he got when he needed to fuck.
Jesus. Sounds like you should have sex more regularly, then, he wanted to say. Pick me. Fucking please, pick me. I won't let you get to that stage, I'll keep you happy. Daily. Just let me use my tongue on your cock, let me suck it and run it around inside my mouth or climb into bed behind me and just slide into me and rock me until--
Luke had said something else. Shit.
"Hrmm?" he asked, even while he rewound the auditory clues his distracted body had managed to absorb automatically. "Oh! Um," he hedged once he had it, frowning. Apart from the fact he needed to give his answer some thought, he needed to fill in time. He shifted position again, dropping his raised leg back down and tilting his hips upward in order to tug at his pants before he sat. They'd got somewhat tighter while his mind wandered, thinking of fucking Luke. He hoped his inattention and drooping eyelids might be explained by tiredness in Luke's mind. Better that than advertising the rampant return of a lust he'd thought long-buried.
It was fucking confusing. This guy was a relative stranger to him yet he wasn't. Harm knew a part of him that was long gone, yet there were fleeting instances of his old crush. The mischievous twinkle in his hazel eyes, the smile that could launch ships and stop frantic babies crying was still there, it just didn't linger as it had once. That was worse, in a way, because it became a challenge for Harm to draw it out. As if he hadn't spent enough nights obsessing about Luke, like a dog with a
permanent boner
bone.
"In the beginning, not really. I mean, you weren't so shy, you'd make jokes in front of your buddies, talk about guy's asses or mouths but it was just general crudeness. I was uptight about all of it at first and shied away from it but once I got a few notches on the old bedpost - so to speak - it was easier," he winked and pretended to shine his knuckles on his chest, finding it impossible to not be excessively animated due to his nerves.
Losing his virginity and taking his first few lovers had been a very big deal to Harm but he hadn't been afforded the luxury of being precious about it then and he didn't think it would be all that welcome now, either. He'd figured out the score pretty quickly, unfortunately. He'd known he was good looking but the fact that that had equated to experience in a lot of guys' opinions had traumatised him. They'd thought, because they told him he was hot, it had been okay to treat him irreverently, to execute the sex like it was just another item on their to do list to tick off. It'd left Harm confused and feeling dirty because none of it had fulfilled him. Hearing guys like Luke joke about sex had rubbed some rather raw wounds - until he'd managed to lower his expectations and build up his defences.
Laughing off his vague feelings of violation and loss now only made Harm feel even more vulnerable and disloyal. To himself. He didn't like it, though he couldn't imagine himself being honest about a mindset that had become a pattern he'd still never completely broken. No wonder he'd lifted a nice, faithful, caring guy like Luke up onto a pedestal. He was the ideal. A fucking unicorn.
"One time, you got reeeeally drunk and confessed you love eating ass," Harm grinned, blushing delicately. Thinking of Luke tonguing his hole had been a nightly fantasy for a long time after that little tidbit had been shared and it was impossible to keep the colour out of his cheeks thinking about it now, too. "But, as we became better friends, we talked about it less. I had some casual hookups - very rarely - and you had Trevor so... it never really came up, unless you were upset that Trevor was pulling away from you and admitted there was no, uh, intimacy, that is," he said offhandedly, biting his lower lip as other memories returned to him.
"I, uh... well, I know more about how things were with you than I should. Not because of you but... because of Trevor," he admitted sheepishly, glancing agitatedly from his hands fidgeting on the table up to Luke and back again, unsure if he should admit these details. Luke's expression seemed to be urging him to continue so he did, if somewhat hesitantly.
"There was a point, towards the end, where I'd seen him with someone else and I confronted him about it. He was pretty savage. He knew how I felt about you and he laughed at me for caring, telling me I was pathetic. He talked about how you liked to, uh, fuck him and how good you were in bed - in some detail - and told me I'd never have you. That I wasn't good enough for you. He laughed a lot, actually. Telling me how he was tired of your dick, implying he'd keep stringing you along until he was done with you, even though you weren't all that fun anymore." Harm frowned, wondering what Luke knew about the city. When he looked at him now, his expression was more calculating.
"He did it to me a couple more times. Sought me out when he was feeling low, purposely to be cruel to me. He knew I'd never say anything to you about it and I guess it made him feel like King Shit to dangle you over my head, knowing I was listening to you worry about how much he was gone, how pale and apathetic he was and then having to listen to him tell me he didn't care. Maybe he was daring me to tell you. It kind of felt like it, but I never did. You loved him, I couldn't do that to you. Do you... you say you work security details here, in the city? So do you... you know what's here, right? What comes out... only at night?" Harm hinted, waiting for Luke's face to show he understood what he was alluding to so could get to his point.
-
Luke listened studiously. It was hard to imagine himself bro-ing it up locker room style. Jake's enforcers weren't shy about discussing those sorts of things as a general rule, but Luke never participated. Did he want to on some level? Grudgingly, he had to admit that he did. The impulse was there, but it was checked by the need to retain control, the need to separate himself from them, both because of what they were and for the sake of the chain of command.
His whole body became a frown when Harm began detailing the depths of Trevor's infidelities and the way that he'd used them to put Harm in his place. That same protective urge he'd felt earlier flared, and he had to consciously force himself to keep his strength in check in order to not shatter the freshly-steaming mug of coffee he was cradling.
Of course, Harm didn't need his protection from that particular dead man. He'd processed that the accident was a cover up, but he hadn't thought about what that meant for Trevor. What had actually happened to him? Had there really been some kind of accident that Project Twilight had taken advantage of, or had it been more nefarious than that? Was Trevor yet another of their victims, murdered to help them get to Luke? Harm's recounting read as genuine, leaving Luke inclined to believe that his ex might have gotten what he deserved.
His expression went stony when he realized the implications of the revelation. He had loved someone capable of that sort of sadism, and he'd either been fooled or let it happen. The idea of the latter made his stomach lurch. Whatever fundamental truth that represented about him, it was an ugly one, and he had to wonder if that was an intrinsic element of who he was, something that transcended the aspects of himself that had been ripped from him.
He searched for a reply, but Harm apparently wasn't ready for one. His nonsequitur caused Luke's jaw to set and his eyes to narrow slightly. It was at that moment that Sandy turned up with a massive plate of French toast laden with scoops of ice cream and clouds of whipped cream. Luke nodded thanks dully, but his mind was in gear, processing the fact that Harm was aware of the supernatural.
It made sense. Healthcare and law enforcement employees were likely to encounter something at some point. Harm was getting it from both ends- the volume of a hospital, and the dire straits of a free clinic in a rough neighborhood. Now that he considered it in earnest, he would have been shocked if there weren't patterns for any intelligent person to pick up on in those fields. Half of his job for Jake was minimizing how public the incidentals of the city's supernatural populace got. Botched feedings, freak accidents, monsters on the loose. For every one he dealt with, there were probably two that wound up in the emergency room.
Harm knew. That was the other take away. In terms of them spending time together, it would go a long way if Luke didn't have to lie about absolutely everything. Once Sandy had departed, he nodded slowly.
"Yeah. Very aware." His voice was more curt than he'd planned it to be. He took a sip of coffee, brow knitting. "If I'm being honest, too aware." His right arm started to itch, like it sometimes did, at the exact terminus between the gray flesh of his monstrous arm and the human body it was attached to. He set down the coffee and used his left hand to scratch. "You aren't... tied up in any of that, are you?"
-
When the french toast was delivered, Harm sat up straighter, wriggling his feet until both of his legs were on the inside of Luke's splayed limbs. He knew this because the outsides of his calves were against the insides of Luke's... briefly. He shifted the new one ever so slightly away after making contact, because it felt like too much suddenly. Too relaxed. Too intimate. His hips were lined up directly with Luke's, it could only have been better if his legs were the ones on the outside, and they were somewhere he could shuffle forward and wrap them around Luke's waist, lowering himself down... but it wasn't that intimate. And Luke wouldn't exactly have to chase him down for years to reconnect their legs, if he'd enjoyed the sensation of Harm pressed against him.
Harm had a bite of food in his mouth when Luke asked his question. He frowned as he chewed, initially uncertain what he meant but then his eyes widened and he swallowed rapidly when he realised Luke was asking him if he had anything to do with vampires.
"Me? No! Well, apart from the fact that I'm pretty sure a whole bunch of vampires moved into my apartment building not too long ago and I guess I've always been curious - I've been told their bite feels amazing - no. What I mean is that I think Trevor was into them. There was a guy, his name was Chris or Steve or Tom or something boring in first year, but second year of college he turned completely goth and started insisting everyone call him Onyx. He pulled away from the group, hinting at a secret world he was privy to. I'm thinking it was him that got Trevor involved."
He pointed from one part of the table to another as he spoke, finger extended beyond his knife, intimating the connection between the people and creatures he was discussing. He cut another portion of french toast, not noticing that Luke hadn't bothered to pick up his cutlery and join in, even though the dish was positioned between them. He fastidiously scooped a bit of ice cream and cream on top of the bite on his fork but paused before he lifted it to his mouth, frowning at Luke. "What do you mean you're 'too aware, if you're honest'? How can you be too aware?"
-
A light smile lined Luke's lips when Harm renegotiated the arrangement of their legs beneath the table. It drained away immediately when he casually supposed that there were vampires living in his building. The lack of concern confused Luke. Was he joking? Was he just not aware of the danger involved? Harm was almost the perfect meal- he was pretty, single, and had a very late shift on what Luke assumed was a predictable schedule.
The cautionary admonishment he was composing in his head evaporated when Harm revealed just as casually that he thought Trevor had been mixed up with the undead. Luke was staring, through him rather than at him, while he wandered down mental pathways that led nowhere good. If an ex who had apparently consumed his life had been involved with vampires, it stood to reason that he had in some capacity as well. Even if he'd been unwitting, it could easily have been the supernatural connection that had put him in the Project Twilight's cross-hairs.
His intention to try some french toast was completely forgotten while he processed yet another bombshell. It wasn't until Harm walked through the door he'd left open that he even seemed aware of his surroundings again. He blinked rapidly, as if his mind had snagged on the previous moment and was only then catching up.
He'd wanted Harm to open the door, but he wasn't sure how far inside he wanted to invite him. He set down his coffee and laid his hand beside his fork, pushing aside his suspicions about Trevor for the time being. There were a few different ways he could help Harm wade into the supernatural quagmire of his existence. He grasped the fork and carved off a soggy corner of french toast that was wet with syrup and ice cream. He didn't bring it to his mouth immediately; he left it suspended before him, his elbow braced on the table.
"I work for one." His voice, quiet for the sake of potential eavesdropping, shook slightly; Trevor was still weighing on his mind. He glanced down at the table between them before raising his eyes and regarding Harm again. "Which is definitely more aware than I'd like to be." He aimed the fork for his mouth and plunged it in. His eyes widened as the cold, creamy, sugary goodness exploded on his tongue. He chewed slowly, savoring it, then swallowed. He was still watching Harm, gauging his reaction. It was a lot, for sure, but it was really only the tip of the iceberg.
Part of him hoped Harm would freak out. Take off. Want nothing to do with him.
That would have been so much easier.
-
Harm was far from dissuaded. He was fascinated, though the tremulous manner in which Luke admitted his employer's status was something that roused concern in him. The urge to reach out and touch returned - just a hand, it would be so easy - but Harm fought it off. Luke gave the impression of concrete, solid and unwavering. Harm hoped there was more to him, on the inside - that little tremor hinted at it - but such gruff creatures were generally oversensitive about maintaining a smooth veneer to better protect their vulnerable innards. It wouldn't do to make a big deal of potential weaknesses, not in public. That never went well.
"You work for a," he looked furtively about before hissing his next word, even though he'd stated it in regard to his own circumstances rather casually just a few moments before (and there was still no-one nearby to worry about, anyway), "vampire? Doing security? They need security? Does he - she? - drink from you? Have you ever been bitten? What's it like?" he asked eagerly, hurling questions at Luke too quickly to allow him to get an answer in. He watched his companion's expression shift and managed to stop himself after the sixth question, sensing disapproval (though whether it was for the rapidfire questions or something else he had to wait and see).
It made perfect sense to Harm that Luke's statement of heightened awareness correlated directly to his experiences at the end of a set of vampire fangs, and he didn't seem happy about it. Harm had personally been advised - on more than one occasion (whilst babysitting idiots getting a transfusion because they'd let themselves get almost drained to death) - that he ought to try it. It was, apparently, the beeeeeest, maaaan. The idea that he'd get a firsthand recount from someone he'd trusted (or had, at the very least, known a long while) excited him and his eager expression as he shoved more delicious french toast in his mouth to stop him talking showed it.
-
He'd been expecting at least a degree of disapproval. Working for a vampire had to be at least on the order of being involved in a crime syndicate, morally speaking. It certainly didn't sit well with him. He couldn't help but wonder if Harm's regard for him, the affection he'd had trapped inside him for the years that they'd known one another, was to blame. He'd been ready for rejection or disdain; simple interest threw him for a loop.
Sensing Luke's disapproval during the torrent of questions probably wasn't difficult. His frown had appeared when feeding came up and deepened steadily thereafter. He set his fork down, but misjudged the action enough to produce a sharp sound when the metal tines connected with the ceramic plate.
"I've never been bitten," he answered with an air of finality. "He definitely doesn't drink from me. I work for him, that's all." His broad shoulders rose and fell. "It's complicated, but I don't think he's a bad guy at his core. Still, you know," his voice lowered, and he made a vague gesture with his gloved hand. "A vampire, though."
His lips pressed tight together as he considered his next step. He didn't think it was time to out himself as other, or to fill Harm in on how extensive the presence of supernatural creatures in the city was. Knowing they existed was one thing; knowing they were organized enough to have a government, which he was militarily involved with, was entirely another. Really, he wanted to talk about something else. Anything else. The problem was that he really didn't have anything in that particular tank. He didn't have a social life, or hobbies, or television shows to talk about.
Luke cleared his throat and reached for his water. After taking a gulp, he offered Harm a terse smile. He tried out a half-dozen things he might say, but none of it rang true. The result would be a painfully awkward length of silence unless Harm jumped in.
-
Harm winced when Luke put his fork down with a clang, his heart leaping with trepidation. He hadn't meant to make Luke angry; he listened to him warily, expecting there might be more than just the biting words he got. He relaxed when it ended where it did.
He had to wonder about Luke's attitude towards vampires; it couldn't have come from his experiences with Trevor, so had there been something with his boss? Or was it just a general dislike for bloodsucking monsters? Harm could understand that, but his outlook came from a place of realism, flavoured by cynicism, and he didn't share it.
Instead of replying immediately, he took a couple of bites of french toast, chewing and swallowing ruminatively. When Luke smiled tightly at him, he grinned back, finding his old friend's gruff awkwardness adorable. His viewpoints seemed to be so black and white... he really didn't blend well with Harm's shades of grey outlook.
It was probably a bad idea for him to be sitting here imagining just how far their similarities could carry them before their differences became too great to overcome... but imagine he was. Thinking was only make-believe. What harm could it do? He rubbed Luke's leg lightly, curious about its steel-like feel and what it would be like pressed against him.
"Sorry," he said after a while. He'd found the time looking at Luke highly pleasurable, even if nothing was said. "I didn't mean to offend you. I'm not... a groupie or anything, I've just been told - often - that their bite is very enjoyable and, since they don't have to kill to do it, I figured it's harmless enough. Definitely safer than the way most people seek their highs, in this city. Addiction is addiction though, I suppose," he said contritely, lowering his gaze. He poked negligently at his food, stirring the melted ice cream without paying attention to what he was seeing.
"I am... interested in hearing more about what you know... if you're willing to share. You seem like you're in a unique position of knowledge and I hate feeling ignorant. It's... I often feel like there's so much more beyond my comprehension. Like I'm in this fight to help people too stupid to know what's good for them and I don't know the rules of the game, let alone have the weapons I need. Would you... be willing to share?" he asked hopefully, tilting his head forward so that he was looking up at Luke through his lashes.
He considered inviting Luke back to his place, where they could speak more freely, but he recognised that that was just an excuse to get him alone, in a place where they could get way more comfortable. No-one was bothering them in the diner. There was no reason to move their conversation to his couch, where they could rub much more than legs against each other... that rationality didn't quell the desire, though.
-
His rumination veered off course when he felt Harm's leg move against his. It wasn't much, but it was enough to make him wonder what more contact with Harm would feel like. He felt his dick stir, and inexplicably, felt heat in his cheeks. He wanted to draw his leg away, but the warm calf against his own was intoxicating in a way he was hard-pressed to validate. Human contact. His vampire lover had been so cold to the touch, and the encounter in the bar bathroom had been devoid of affection. The sudden impulse to reach across the table with his uncovered hand arose and passed in an instant. It would have been too much, and frankly, he still wasn't sure how he felt about their dynamic. How restrained would he be if he wasn't aware that Harm was carrying years of emotional baggage with his name on the tags? What if they hadn't known one another at all?
His brown knit when Harm's request came. His gaze strayed to evaluate the presence of the waitress and other patrons. The notion to take things elsewhere occurred to him as well. It would have to be a hotel or the like; his paranoia meant that he wasn't about to lead any Project Twilight operatives to Harm's place if they somehow had him under surveillance. Suggesting the go to a hotel had some very specific connotations, though. His cheeks colored slightly again, and then he shook his head.
"It's not safer. You've only seen the victims that survive. Some of them are kind. Careful. But a lot of them aren't, and when they get really hungry..." He trailed off and then picked up elsewhere. "Your best weapon is avoidance. Just like any other opportunistic crime. Keep your eyes open, don't be an easy target." He gripped the edge of the table with his gloved hand. When he spoke again his voice was soft. "Your job puts you at risk. Your hours. You really should be careful."
He released the table and sat back in the booth, crossing his arms. "You're better off not knowing, but if you want specifics, we can't do that in public." He spared another glance toward the waitress. Her trajectory was about to bring her into eavesdropping range. "I really don't think it's a great idea, but I guess it's only fair. You... also have a unique position of knowledge." It felt a little less mercenary to use Harm's own phrasing. It was the truth, though. Harm had something he needed, and if he had to make some concessions to get it, well... there were certainly worse ways to spend an evening. Fucked up as it was, this was one of the best nights he could lay claim to.
He pulled his foot back an inch, rubbing his leg along Harm's in the process. He felt terrible for doing it, but the simple fact was that he wanted to. He wanted to flirt back. He wanted Harm to know he was receptive to his touch.
"It actually might be better for us to do it during the day," he said, and then hastily added: "Talk, I mean. Because, you know." He shrugged. "Sunlight."
-
Harm was taken by the colour in Luke's face, the left side of his smile lifting as he admired the way the security expert looked in that shade of pink. God, he was even more beautiful than he'd been when he was young and pretty. He was harder now, wound tighter than a spring and as sharp as a blade but so damn sexy that just his response to Harm's leg whispering against him set the nurse's imagination on fire. His body wasn't far behind.
The description of vampires getting hungry was chilling and it dampened Harm's growing lust. He nodded obediently, putting his cutlery down so that he could reach into the backpack beside him but he didn't get there before Luke continued speaking. He paused, listening and observing Luke's defensive body language, one hand still on his bag.
The returned brushing of his leg followed by an invitation for them to get together in the day had Harm's eyebrows climbing towards his hairline and his heart picking up speed with hope. "Uh, well, sure, that sounds great," he stammered enthusiastically, resuming the dive into his backpack. He lifted out a personal stun gun and held it just above the edge of the table, in Luke's line of sight, before he put it back and re-zipped the bag. "I am careful," he insisted. "I'm not stupid but... forewarned is forearmed and all that," he grinned ruefully.
He squared up to Luke again, leaning forward onto the table and dropping one arm across it. It lay beside the food plate, angled towards Luke's hand, his fingers twirling over the glossy surface in coy circles. He wasn't game to touch Luke but he wanted to. "Whatever you think is best," he nodded, referring to the daylight meet up, licking his lips. Suddenly, he was insanely nervous - and excited - about spending more time alone with Luke. "I'm headed home to sleep when we leave here and I'm free for the next two days, before I start a week of days at the hospital. Do... d'you want to come to my place maybe? If you're free? Or...?" he left it hanging, waiting for Luke to jump in with his opinion.
The wait until he spoke next would be excruciating, as Harm considered all the ways Luke could change his mind and turn him down.
-
Luke's eyebrows hedged up slightly when he spotted the weapon. He winced at a dull ache in his temples, but disregarded it and tried to listen as Harm outlined his schedule. The ache sharpened, and Luke grit his teeth. Harm would likely notice the way he slumped back against the booth, eyes unfocused and glassy.
"... normal projectiles and stun-guns are ineffective against undead targets. Their vital-analogue and neurological functions vary too greatly from living organisms. Optimal CQC engagement protocols are fire, edged weapons, and bone-breaking, but CQC is not recommended for assets without enhanced strength or durability. Special ammunition is optimal ranged protocol and the optimal overall-"
"Jesus, Krake, that's fucking verbatim."
He trailed off at the interruption from the dark-haired young man who was lying on his stomach on a dorm-style bed, looking at a splayed open file folder and shaking his head. Luke was sitting backwards in a rolling chair at a nearby desk. He smirked. "Don't act so surprised, Nox. Some of us actually pay attention in-"
Seven full seconds had passed since Luke had gone unresponsive. Alertness returned in a sudden rush and he jerked, sitting up and placing his hands palm down on the table to brace himself. He sucked down a deep breath and looked across the booth at Harm. He felt something warm and wet on his upper lip and reached up to wipe with his left hand. It came away smeared with a single large drop of blood. His head felt like someone was having a katana duel inside of it, all sharp edges and metal on metal ringing.
"I... sorry." He went for a napkin and wiped his nose. Thankfully it came away clean. He tried to focus on what Harm had been saying so that he could blow past what just happened. "Tomorrow afternoon? Not your place though." It came out a little more forcefully than he'd intended, but he wasn't regulating so well at the moment. "I'll text you, okay? I should get going." He dropped his hands to his lap so he could discretely wipe the blood off of his finger.
He closed his eyes for a split second, blotting out the bright lights of the diner, and drew a deep breath. When he opened his eyes again, he regarded Harm. His expression was under control, but pain gleamed in his eyes. "I'll be fine," he imparted gruffly before Harm could object or ask questions. "It's an amnesia thing."
-
The first alarming sign was a wince indicating pain; it made Harm frown. The second was the way Luke sagged into his seat; Harm's mouth formed a perfect circle of surprise and he froze, recognising what he was seeing but disbelieving because... well, because it was Luke and he seemed invincible. The third sign was the distant look in the beautiful hazel eyes that had haunted his dreams for most of his adult life; Harm scrambled out of his side of the booth as fast as he could and shot around to the other side, kneeling with one knee on the seat beside Luke, to examine him.
When Luke surged out of his unresponsive state like a drowning man surfacing for breath, Harm shit himself and almost fell backwards out of the booth in shock, his leg bent awkwardly beneath him. He managed to grab hold of the table and the back of the seat when his torso was at about a forty-five degree angle to the floor and pulled himself up in time to see a napkin wiping beneath a nose. A hand dove into his pocket, absently searching for the examination light he had in there even as Luke turned to look at him and tell him he'd be fine. Like this was some sort of regular occurrence. Clearly, the STD he'd been worried about didn't rate high on the concerns scale, compared to this - and Harm wasn't having any of his nonsense about it being only due to amnesia.
"It's really not," he argued sternly, looming over Luke and grasping his face with gentle authority. While one hand lifted each of the taller man's eyelids in turn, the other flicked his light into each of his eyes. Thankfully, his pupil response was normal and Harm's heart began to slow from frenetic to merely hammering. "That was a seizure. Were you in a coma?" he asked briskly, depositing his light back into his pocket and pressing two of his fingers to Luke's wrist - the one without the glove - to count his pulse. He started to look around for a clock but gave up quickly because it became immediately apparent that Luke wasn't experiencing any arrhythmia. It also felt like his heart rate was slowing.
Still, Harm hovered, one knee on the seat, the other bracing him on the floor. His torso was pressed against Luke's arm and side, one hand on his wrist and the other flitting about his face, testing the temperature of his forehead with the back of his hand before he wrapped that arm around Luke's shoulders, resting it along the back of the booth. He peered into his old friend's eyes with concern, unfazed by the fact that their faces were so close together, their syrupy-sweet breaths were mingling. His mind was racing as he tried to remember whether Luke had said anything about being in a coma? He didn't believing he had. The brain was still such a mystery that anything could've happened to Luke, if he'd sustained physical trauma to it. Had they even talked about the accident? Had he confirmed what happened? Harm was frustrated he couldn't remember, in the haze of his worry.
-
Luke regarded Harm with an air of exasperation as the man fussed over him, but he didn't stop him. He doubted he could have without physically restraining him. He was relatively still and totally silent as the examination proceeded, moving minimally to facilitate the poking and prodding. A small thrill ran through him when Harm took hold of his face.
When Harm asked if he had been in a coma, he considered lying. Technically it might not even be a lie; there was certainly room for a coma in the years he'd lost. But he couldn't swear to it, and he didn't want to lie unnecessarily. There would be plenty of critical falsehoods in the early stages of whatever their relationship ended up being, so it was best to keep it to a minimum. He shook his head simply. "Not that I'm aware of."
He liked the way it felt when Harm's arm slid over his shoulders. The proximity, the concern, they were so foreign to him that the result was nearly electric. He felt grounded to Harm, and he made no move to separate or pull away. Instead he regarded him from kissing distance and sighed.
"It happens when I remember things. I just did, when I saw your tazer. They sort of... trigger." His speech was slower, slightly more calculated, when he continued. "I remembered talking with someone about how ineffective those sorts of things are again you-know-whats, so keep that in mind." Another breath. "Really though, I'm okay. Light headache. They've never gotten worse, though some are worse than others." He regarded Harm from within kissing distance and averted his gaze just slightly. "I'll tell you more tomorrow. I promise."
-
"Oh," was all that Harm offered when told his stun gun would be ineffective against vampires. They were undead creatures, he supposed. It was just... they seemed so alive. Well, the ones that had moved into his apartment complex did, anyway. Still, he'd never bought the thing expecting to drop a vampire, really. It was more for things that couldn't move at excessive speeds and had heartbeats - muggers, rapists, murderers and werewolves, that sort of thing.
"You don't look okay," he argued as Luke fell quiet. Harm moved his fingers off Luke's wrist and slid his hand over Luke's, tilting slightly sideways as he did, to accommodate for the man's long arm. There was no point in hanging onto him if the seizures were a regular occurrence but he found that, now he'd initiated contact, he didn't want to stop. Luke was so warm and firm... Harm felt like a scarf wound around his muscular bulk - decorative, but largely ineffectual. He squeezed Luke's hand, finding his head now angled perfectly for a kiss... but that was one thing he'd never initiate. He'd tried once and it'd failed humiliatingly. He was glad Luke had forgotten that and he wasn't about to bring it up or repeat the embarrassment.
"By 'tomorrow afternoon', do you mean today afternoon, or actual tomorrow afternoon?" he enquired, his concern for Luke's wellbeing assuaged by his proximity and the daring position he was maintaining. He really should move back to his side of the booth, Luke had mentioned going... "'Cos it's like... what? One-thirty in the morning or something now, soooo... will I have to wait twelve hours to see you again or thirty-six?" he asked cheekily, managing to affect a pout through a grin (that wasn't nearly as sultry as he thought it was). "And where will we meet that's private, if not my place? Your place?"
-
Luke felt Harm’s hand slide into place atop his and became suddenly self-conscious of his gloved right hand, dropping it to rest on the pleather of the cushioned booth. He mustered the best reassuring smile he could, accepting the squeeze and doing his best to ignore the whining pain that lingered just inside his skull.
For a second there, he thought Harm might come in for a kiss. He swallowed, waiting for it. There was no way he would be the one to go for it. Considering the history Harm had to contend with, it would have been monstrously unfair. He didn’t think he would stop him, though. He couldn’t help but wonder how those soft-looking lips would feel against his own.
He was left blinking when the kiss never came, and Harm instead started babbling at him about logistical concerns for their meet-up. He waited for him to finish before shaking his head slowly. “Today afternoon is what I meant. And…” He drew a breath. “I was thinking a motel or something.” He found it hard to meet Harm’s gaze and qualified his statement quickly before any lurid interpretations could crop up. “I don’t think it’s a great idea for me to go to your place. It could get you unwanted attention. And my place is… complicated, probably even worse actually.”
He looked up at him slowly. “Is that okay? Just the best way I can think of for us to have some privacy. No, you know, expectations, or anything.” He nudged against Harm’s shoulder, summoning a thin grin.
-
Harm's body was playing all sorts of tricks on him, pressed close to Luke as he was. For one, he could've sworn Luke was watching his lips and thinking about kissing him... but it didn't happen. For another, there were coy little looks and a sweet smile as the honey blond suggested they meet up at a motel (!!). He had very sound reasons for the suggestion and Harm couldn't fault their validity (though he didn't really get how Luke coming to his place would cause trouble for him - was it because of his Chinatown vampire neighbours? Could there be some sort of territorial problem between them and Luke's boss? He'd have to wait a few hours to find out, he supposed) but it still sounded so intimate.
The nudge made him think he wasn't imagining things after all; Luke talked about there being no expectations, sure, but that wouldn't stop Harm fantasising about one-thing-leads-to-another-and-oops! situations until he fell asleep. And to help him fall asleep...and while he slept... He'd no doubt have two therapy sessions' worth of 'expectations' by the time they met up again but he doubted any of them had to do with sex so much as achieving some sort of closure or getting answers regarding this big, beautiful man. Looking at his perfect, kissable face made Harm feel so hollow, yet so elated, he could barely breathe.
He was beginning to wax lyrical. He obviously really needed sleep.
With a wistful sigh, he straightened up onto his knee and cupped a hand against Luke's face, before grinning and playfully tugging on his earlobe as he pulled back and stood up. "Sure, that's fine. I mean, we could also meet in the middle of Pisky Park or out on the beach or in the woods but meeting you in a cosy room with a big bed and no expectations works, too," he shrugged nonchalantly, sliding back into his side of the booth and grinning at Luke. This time, he didn't fuck around; he closed both his legs around Luke's and gave it a squeeze to go with his innocent look. He left them there, too.
Now that he was back looking at Luke front on, he could see tightness across his forehead and around his eyes that caused Harm to from with concern. "Is your head hurting?" he asked suspiciously, grabbing his bag and unzipping it, preparing to root around inside it. "Do you want some pain tablets? I have some."
-
One of Luke's eyebrows veered upward when Harm caressed his face and tugged at his ear in a decidedly non-medical fashion. He wasn't sure what element of their conversation and interaction had led to outright affection after all the uncertain nudges and concerned examination, but he wasn't about to object. His grin solidified slightly, showing off just a hint of the white enamel behind his full lips. His eyes followed Harm back to the opposite side of the booth, and when Harm's legs pinned his, he flexed just enough to let the man feel the powerful contraction of his calves.
He shook his head in response to the offered meds. "No, it isn't bad. I try not to lean on pills if I can help it." His smile dwindled as he waxed thoughtful. "We should probably call it a night, yeah? I for one could use some shut-eye." He didn't wait for an answer before turning his head to locate the waitress and signal that they were ready for the check.
His eyes alighted on Harm again. He swallowed, then shook his head and grinned. "It's really cheesy, but I'm glad I ran into you. Until now my past has been this... black hole. Empty, but heavy." He bumped his leg against Harm. "It's nice to know it isn't all bad."
-
Harm's eyebrows lifted, his pouty lower lip dropped and the tip of his tongue toyed with an upper canine as Luke's calf tightened. Jesus. Having Luke between his legs was fucking hot and his mouth flooded with saliva at the thought of his leg moving farther up, of being able to grind on him; his scrubs tightened and he swallowed as subtly as he was able. Exhaling unsteadily, he looked into Luke's eyes, not really hearing what he was saying except for 'no' and 'shut-eye'. He flushed, trying not to think too hard about sharing a bed with Luke and distracting himself with getting his wallet out of his bag instead.
Despite being unable to hear past his own libido at Luke's first comments, he heard his final statements clearly and Harm's heart melted. He grinned as he fished a fifty dollar note out of his wallet, giving it to Sandy as she arrived. It was enough to cover the meal, drinks and her tip, so if Luke tried to contribute, Harm would wave him away and tell him he wanted to pay, for old time's sake (knowing that would put Luke on uneven ground because it was a reference he wouldn't be able to argue) and Sandy walked away with a smile. Harm turned back to look at Luke, smiling playfully. "Maybe, but I appreciate a good dose of cheese. I'm glad I ran into you, too," he admitted, reaching forward and grasping Luke's hand. "And I'm really glad I could be of some help."
Withdrawing his hand, he put his wallet away and zipped up his backpack. He stood up out of the booth to put it on (glad his body had calmed down enough that he wouldn't embarrass himself), then leant down to grab his helmet. Straightening up with it dangling from one hand, he settled his bag on his back and smiled at Luke. "So you'll text me when and where to meet you, right?" he queried, receiving a nod and a deliciously thoughtful look for his trouble. He had the strongest urge to lean down and kiss Luke goodbye but his face was swiftly hijacked by a yawn that he tried to cover up with a hand. "Sorry. I'll catch you later," he said with a wink and walked out of the diner clipping his helmet on.
The hours until he saw Luke next couldn't pass fast enough.