Cut Me Open

[Trillian]

Ben watched as Kerr closed in and when the hand pressed against his cheek, his eyelids fluttered. Then, after one last slow blink, he went back to staring, his gaze intense on Kerr, searching his face.

Was he... were they going to bypass the punishment? He liked the tenderness in spite of himself. He wanted more even though it wouldn't feel right to go straight to something warm and intimate without the pain in between. It would feel like cheating, if that particular step was skipped - but he wouldn't put it past Kerr to refuse. The other part of him, the one that wanted something normal, hoped Kerr would.

But then he asked how and Ben shrugged, though he knew the answer.

"Like when Charon hit me."

He'd done it in front of Kerr and his sire hadn't seem opposed to it. It had been a mental slap, though. He figured Kerr might come at him harder. He was certainly skilled in that way, because according to Ben's movie-memories, Kerr had knocked Lazarus out cold with his mind.

[Existentially Odd]

Kerr frowned and withdrew his hand, surprised by the request but willing to comply with Ben's wishes. Just because he'd required a physical release didn't mean Ben did. The mention of Charon's reprimand had him thinking for a moment; he'd forgotten that, in the wonder of being freed from his sentence of ancient subordination. Now that Ben brought it up, he remembered. How shameful, to have focussed on himself rather than on Ben's pain. Well, not anymore.

He sat up and moved into a cross-legged pose looking down at his fledge. "Ready?" he asked, giving him a chance to reposition himself if desired. They'd both need blood afterwards but doing it first thing, raw like this, would have a greater effect. He'd have to be careful he didn't go too hard, he wasn't as skilled as Charon was and he didn't know how to temper properly according to his target's age. Not when he didn't want to permanently scar them and actually cared about their mind, anyway.

It felt like it should have been momentous, this great act of subservience he was performing for his wounded lover, but it wasn't. Kerr gathered his mental energy, adding to it with his own rage and disgust by balling up every thing he'd imagined Ben had done with Saraekiel, as well as actual memories of the awful man, tempered with the pain he'd felt that night after finding out exactly where Ben had been and who he'd been with, lacing it with all the evil desires he'd had for revenge ever since. It seemed appropriate that his attack should be formed with everything wrong between them.

When his package of vileness was ready, he stormed Ben's mind with it, smacking him at about half the level he knew himself capable of. Ben wasn't that old, after all. He just hoped it was enough.

[Trillian]

It was different, so different from what Charon had done to him that what he experienced was unexpected. His eyes were open but he couldn't see anything apart from what Kerr was showing him, couldn't feel anything other than what Kerr wanted him to feel. A distant part of him cringed, thinking that this was what Kerr had felt, not realising that his sire had balled it up into something compressed and rotten before flinging it his way.

It was like Despair and Hatred and Torment and Pain were holding hands and slicing into his brain. On the outside, it would look to Kerr like Ben had been zapped, every single one of his muscles tensing to the point where he'd thrust his hips upward, forming a bow in the bed before falling onto his side, his head arched all the way back.

He fought for consciousness, just so he could hold onto what this was, to remember it. It made him realise that none of what he suffered was enough if this was the kind of pain Kerr experienced. His whole body, his mind and soul, ached with it. He could feel it slinking away, as though it was a creature that had wreaked havoc in his mind, and when the pain was gone his vision returned, though it was blurry. He couldn't figure out why, until he felt wetness on his face.

He couldn't move.

[Existentially Odd]

Seeing Ben convulse sickened Kerr, yet he relished it, too. He found himself watching Ben's chest rather than his face. It made it clearer to him that way, reminding him what he was doing this for. For Ben, because of that, for himself, because of that. He felt different, once his mental well of torture was blasted into Ben. The process wasn't as cathartic as he'd hoped but it was healing all the same. Like a tumour excised before it could become malignant. He felt... emptier and that wasn't a bad thing.

When Ben didn't move, fear gripped him and Kerr shuffled closer, pressing himself to Ben's side without a second thought. "I'm sorry," he whispered, though it wasn't because he'd done it but because he hadn't correctly gauged his own power. "I hit you too hard." He curled himself protectively over Ben, not caring about the mark now, pressing his lips to the side of his face. It was stupid, really, to have the urge to protect Ben when he was the one who'd inflicted the damage. He was the threat.

Ben was still conscious, only his eyes moving. Kerr scanned his mind but recoiled instantly, lest he get drawn into the whirlpool of mental havoc he'd wrought and drown. "I'll get you some blood. It'll help," he promised and hurried out of the bedroom to the kitchen. He heated two bags, dancing impatiently in front of the microwave the entire time they whirred inside it. He didn't bother with glasses when they were done. He cut one open and downed it in quick, needy gulps, tossing the bag into the rubbish and hurrying back to Ben. He'd likely need another bag but he planned on feeding this one to him carefully and he didn't want to heat another just to have it go cold.

Nestling up to Ben's side once more, Kerr opened the neck of the bag and gently pried Ben's mouth open. He was strongly reminded of the pain in his jaw when he'd drunk after Jake pummelled him. It hadn't been easy for him then and it wasn't easy for Ben now. The similarities reassured him and made him feel better about complying with Ben's wishes. So did the peace he was feeling. Finally. His only thoughts revolved around his concern for Ben, the anger and vileness gone, allowing room for love and compassion to rise within him at last.

[Trillian]

He was alarmed by his inability to move but he remembered Lazarus had obviously come back from being stunned. He'd been smacked with all of Kerr's power, but he had 2000 year old resistance. Ben's defenses were paper and he hadn't even had any up.

It was awful, being paralysed. Nothing worked. Panic began clawing at him before he made himself calm by breathing. Okay, so he could pull in breath, which was kinda weird since he didn't need it, but the movement in his chest made him feel better.

"Uuuungh," he said to the bed. It didn't reply. Maybe it had been offended by the tone of his groan. The thought had him laughing, but it didn't feel like a healthy laugh mentally speaking and it didn't sound like a regular laugh because it was just a kind of huffing noise, so he lost his amusement very quickly.

He focussed on listening to the sounds in the apartment until Kerr returned, by which time Ben could curl his fingers. A good sign, even before the blood was pooled into his mouth. He could swallow, at least. It had been weird having Kerr open his mouth for him. The use of his arms returned to him first and he moved to hold Kerr's side; he was a bit clumsy with his movements, the soft reaching was more like a heavy flopping. He was sure Kerr would appreciate the intimacy regardless. Who didn't enjoy being thumped on the side by a dead arm?

He laughed again but Kerr was pooling blood into his mouth at precisely the wrong moment and he spluttered and coughed, spraying his lover with flecks of it.

Dear god.

[Existentially Odd]

Kerr had paused when Ben hit his side, looking down at his arm to see if he was trying to stop him from feeding him blood or not. He'd wanted to be punished; perhaps he didn't feel ready to recover yet, even though Kerr had desired it straight away, once he'd been broken down by Jake. It didn't appear to be an indicator to stop what he was doing. He watched Ben's fingers clench and unfurl and figured he was just getting movement back slowly and that's all the arm smack had been.

He turned back and continued feeding Ben. When the cough happened, Kerr flinched, scrunching his eyes closed as the blood hit his face in a light smattering. Cautiously, he opened them again, watching for Ben to swallow before he did any more pouring. "Sorry," he apologised, believing he'd been too impatient with his drip feeding and had caused Ben to choke. He resolved to be more careful.

As he continued, the scent of blood on his face became a distraction. In between gentle squirts into Ben's mouth, he wet his finger to try and wipe the coughed-up blood off him. He had no idea where the drops all were and felt a little like a cat licking its paw in order to clean itself, trying to be methodical about swiping every bit of his face but suspecting he missed a lot of it. The aroma of blood remained, though it might have been psychosomatic rather than actual. Either way, it was rousing something primal in him at the worst possible time.

When the bag was empty at last, he pulled it away from Ben's mouth. "How are you? Should I get you another bag now?" he asked gently, encouraging Ben to take stock of his condition before he made any move towards the kitchen. He was glad he hadn't heated the third bag straight away. That had been torturously slow.

[Trillian]

"Mmmn," Ben murmured while swallowing the last. His tongue snuck out and stroked across his lips as his gaze shifted off Kerr's eyes to focus on a tiny fleck of blood high on Kerr's cheek and closer to his hairline. He'd watched fascinated when Kerr cleaned himself up. Ben had a new awareness and respect for Kerr's talent and also a deeper understanding of the magnitude of emotion he dealt with. No wonder Kerr was gentler, kinder and more compassionate if that was the intensity of his feelings. "Yes, please." It just accentuated that Ben's own emotions were muted and deprived of any true force. Funny, he'd always thought he'd felt things intensely but he'd had no idea. It was like allowing a blind person to see, but only briefly.

And with a lot of pain.

By the time Kerr returned, Ben had managed to work himself into a sitting position, using the headboard to keep himself upright. The velvet was luxurious at his back against his skin. He rubbed minutely back and forth on it, feeling the soft fibres move beneath him. His hand stole unconsciously to the mark on his chest and he was covering it with his hand when Kerr returned. Ben stopped wriggling and looked up. He was half-recovered but he doubted he could walk yet.

He dropped his hand and noticed that Kerr reflexively lowered his gaze to the movement but he didn't linger or look disapprovingly. Maybe that one hit was enough.

"You're powerful," Ben told him. "I underestimate you."

[Existentially Odd]

Kerr's immediate internal response was flippant, the urge to deflect and demean himself strong. It was his way, after all. This time, he stifled the impulse and looked Ben squarely in the eye as he sat beside him, curling a leg beneath him so he could lean his shoulder against the headboard too, mostly facing Ben. He handed him the warm blood he'd brought - in a glass this time.

"Yes, you do," he said bluntly, squashing down the desire to claim it was his fault, for coddling Ben. It wasn't his fault that Ben didn't notice what he had in his sire, it was always there for the taking. The fact that Ben hadn't looked or had perhaps forgotten how he'd dropped Lazarus so easily that time wasn't on him. It was on Ben.

It felt strange yet empowering to show Ben his confidence. His arrogance. It was always there, beneath the surface, driving every interaction Ben would have seen him have, yet he'd never displayed anything but humility towards Ben. He was pretty sure he'd hidden that part of himself because he'd been so pathetically grateful to have Ben turn his love and attention his way that he was afraid to reveal too much, lest he overwhelm and frighten his prize away. His upbringing had had a far deeper impact on his modern behaviours and presentation than he'd realised. He liked that it was there now, in the open and between them to be dealt with. It felt fair, since he'd demanded Ben reveal himself, too.

"You underestimate the powers you're motivated to develop when your mind is wilfully invaded and, most nights, you're forced to do heinous things against your will, at the whim of a psychopath seeking entertainment. It's not something I've ever shared with you, though," he admitted, his smile apologetic but his tone firm. "It's not like I've ever been motivated to turn it on you or needed to put anyone down all that often, either, so you couldn't be expected to know. I used about half my capability, maybe a little less," he mused, his gaze lowering to run down Ben's body, trying to estimate the effect he'd had and how recovered Ben was. It'd been long enough that he should've been moving more. "I used too much. Sorry." He didn't sound it - it was too late for regrets now that it was done, after all - but he smiled.

[Trillian]

Ben held the glass with two hands, still feeling clumsy, not wanting to spill it on himself. He thought of Jake and how Kerr's thirst for the blood had been inspired rather than thirst for the dark vampire. Ben had the feeling that if he pulled the same stunt of pouring blood over himself, it would have different results. But there was no way he was copying that mofo.

^{Even though a tiny part of him really, really, wanted to.}

He cleared his throat and concentrated on drinking, resting his wrists high on his chest and tipping the glass whenever he needed to take a sip. He regarded Kerr over the rim.

"You should train me for that. I don't have much resistance." He remembered busting in on Jake and Sam when they'd been trespassing in this building for a lesson. They'd been talking Fortitude and Domination. He had a better understanding of both things now, thanks to Sam's class. "Maybe teach me to attack, too."

[Existentially Odd]

Kerr nodded thoughtfully, agreeing to Ben's demands but mostly distracted by his return to equilibrium. His attack seemed to have had the desired effect though the request made him wonder if Ben was anticipating this would have to happen again, for him to want to build up his defences. It might be fun, in a strange kind of way, to hurt each other in training. It wasn't something he would be able to do regularly though, not if he wanted to keep his traumatic past from bleeding into everything.

"We should train more often," he mused, the hand closest to Ben straying over to brush his side with the backs of his fingers, his thumb balanced on his hip. "You and your election really eat into our free time," he teased, grinning. Even in the midst of their emotional trauma over the past few nights, the election had been a priority. Or a refuge. Same, same.

[Trillian]

Ben's eyes flickered closed at the intimate contact. He hadn't experienced many loving touches lately and the casual way Kerr was finally touching him registered deep inside of him. Now that he felt like he could move again, it was like he'd gotten off cheap. When Kerr mentioned the election, Ben frowned and looked away.

"Yeah," he said.

The past four nights he'd been going through the motions, checking off all the tasks on his list. Perhaps his apathy would lift now that Kerr was showing interest in him again, but it was quite a blow to realise how much of an impact this even had on something he thought he'd felt deeply about.

[Existentially Odd]

Kerr also frowned as Ben turned his head at the mention of the election. That was new. Kerr shuffled closer, resting his head on Ben's shoulder, squashing the arm that had been on Ben's hip between them in order to press his legs against Ben, too. His other hand splayed possessively on his stomach, enjoying touching him. It seemed that, now he'd started, he couldn't stop. He'd been craving him even while he'd been staying away.

It had been very confusing but Kerr was at peace with it now. He didn't enjoy thoughts of the dark angel but his passionate hatred had dissipated. Been lanced, like a pustulous boil. Frankly, he wasn't worth the headspace Kerr had been affording him and he was glad to be rid of the fucker.

"What was that reaction about?" he pressed Ben quietly.

[Trillian]

Ben sighed and let his thoughts out.

"Maybe... maybe we shouldn't work so hard on this thing, the election. We're... we have this new discovery for ourselves and potentially to introduce a pet to it, and then there's Lovebite and the Academy to grow. Maybe we just do a little bit, don't try so hard, just... make me an option if people are dissatisfied with Jake and... whatever happens happens."

He also thought it would be nice to mention the other thing.

"I didn't really care about it when I thought I'd lost you."

[Existentially Odd]

Kerr was reminded of being in the ocean. Ben's information washed over him in waves, fracturing him into flotsam as it broke on him, tearing him away from his mooring - and the safety of a future he'd thought so definite - in the process. The ripples of understanding ebbed through him in the same manner but that final piece of information... that was the kicker. That was the one that made his heart leap and his smile broaden and his soul flutter in certain, undeniable relief.

He chose me. He really, really did.

Since before he'd returned from the 'dead', Ben had been dedicating himself to projects that would boost him. Give him power, control and esteem. Mostly control. Then Kerr had come back and they'd devised a plan for him to take a district for himself, to ascend to a position befitting someone older, with more influence and swagger. It hadn't daunted him, he'd fed on the challenge, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready to prove everyone wrong about him. Particularly himself. He'd been all about the end game, the ultimate goal, the achievement. It had come to mean everything.

Kerr had watched from beside him, not sharing his ambition but supporting it because he understood the hole Ben was trying to fill, the validation that beating Jake would give him. Although it had unsettled him, Kerr hadn't wavered in doing his best to help Ben achieve his dream because it was also about the fact that he truly believed he could do a good job. He didn't know about 'better' than Jake but certainly (with his and Charon's guidance) he would be equal to the task and 'as good' a leader for the district. His ideas were sound, his focus sharp and his determination killer.

Somehow, it had fallen apart when they had. Looking back now, Kerr still couldn't see where or how it had gone wrong. Win? Saraekiel? Or as far back as his date with Jake? Perhaps it was just that Ben had become complacent in his regard for Kerr, taking him for granted and buoyed by his general success at everything he was tackling. Perhaps Kerr hadn't understood what was at stake until it was too late and he was fighting back, like he always should've. However it had come about, change had happened.

It was glorious.

In telling him that he was indifferent to the election, Ben was saying so much more than just that he chose Kerr. He was declaring a truce within himself, an acceptance that permeated both of them and their relationship. He was giving up on extrinsic rewards in order to focus on the ones that mattered; intrinsic and authentic change. In himself. Kerr was floored by the implications, his spirit soaring in wonder as he realised what this hesitant indifference to becoming District Leader meant. He might still win the election, he might not but what Ben had won was priceless. Acceptance. Love. Peace.

Kerr was so overwhelmed with gratitude and wonder that he couldn't even speak. He turned Ben's face away from the blood he was sipping and kissed him instead, worshipfully, adoringly, gently.

[Trillian]

Kerr's reaction said it all, really.

Part of him had wanted Kerr to accept it without argument, like he was doing now, kissing him and loving him for giving up on the crown he'd so tenaciously been reaching for, and to see and understand the meaning behind the figurative lowering of his hand... and the other part was saddened that Kerr wasn't trying to talk him back into it, guiding him back to those strong feelings he'd had for leadership, pointing out that they'd already worked so hard and Ben was just currently feeling off-kilter, that he'd come around again and that he deserved to keep going and have his reward.

He'd known, though. He'd known Kerr hadn't really wanted it for them. He'd said it enough times.

It really had boiled down to this or that. Saraekiel had been the ultimate choice in bad choices, the catalyst that ravaged his relationship with Kerr so much that only pain and sacrifice was the way back from the brink. Well, he wouldn't regret it, and Jake would laugh as he settled the crown more firmly on his head even though Ben had what they both really wanted.

After the kiss broke, Ben got a different idea.

"Lie back," he said, pushing gently on Kerr's chest.