amine_eyes | Darkness to Light Part 1, Vaako/Bones (Reply)

This fic was born from a typo in a comment on the lovely

sororexitium 's LJ, where instead of saying I was writing a Vaako TO Bones fic, I wrote Vaako/Bones. 10 minutes later, I look back and go "hang on a minute ..."
This is also beta-ed by her, and she helped sort out the end which drove me nuts for HOURS as I tried to make it work :)

I warn you now, there is ANGST, there is romance, there is more angst, and there are two Karl Urbans (who's a health warning by himself as it is ...)

Naturally, I do not own these fandoms - if I did, do you really think I'd be a student?

In two parts :)

The first time they fuck is when Vaako is tired of constantly being alone, and Leonard wants nothing more than to forget the sheer hell that is his life. They don’t speak, it’s rough, a fought-battle of dominance between them, rutting into each other in silence as the room creaks and settles around them, gasping silently as they come, with the only sound being the clink of the bed-springs. Afterwards, they leave, neither looking back.

The next time comes when Leonard finds out that Jocelyn’s remarrying. He stumbles to the same bar as before, and is almost blind drunk when Vaako sits next to him. Wordlessly, Vaako lets him lead them to the same room as before, lets Leonard strip him, lets Leonard grab him, pull him by the long hair, allows himself to be dragged to the bed, before being forced onto his stomach. He lets Leonard scratch his tears onto his skin, and lies silent as Leonard thrusts into him with no sound apart from the bedsprings clinking as before. Still silent, Leonard fucks out his anger at Jocelyn being able to move on, fucks out his despair at sinking so low, fucks out his fear that he’ll never be able to find his way back out of the spiralling hell he’s in. Afterwards, Leonard pulls away, and stands for a moment before disappearing to the bathroom as quiet as before, with his clothes. He doesn’t reappear as Vaako leaves.

It’s become a sort of sick twisted ritual for them, coming to the bar, not looking for sympathy, not looking for promises or hopes, too many of those having littered their lives. This time, Leonard is the one being led to the bedroom, being efficiently stripped of his clothes, and thrown on the bed. Leonard is the one allowing Vaako to fuck out his fear that he’ll always be alone, fuck out the anger of being left behind on that deserted planet far too many years ago, fuck out the knowledge that he’ll never know what true love is. Afterwards, Vaako is the one who disappears to the bathroom, and Leonard pulls on his clothes in silence. It may be sick and twisted, but this anonymity, this transaction works, allows some measure of control in their out-of control lives.

They never ask for each other’s name, for fear (both unwilling to admit it), that if they know the name of the other, they’ll lose the control they’re trying to gain.

The first time Leonard gasps aloud, Vaako has pressed him up against a wall. Hands are possessive, plundering, thrusting up his shirt, holding him in place, plunging into his trousers and boxers, gouging ownership marks into his arse, his thighs. Reaching round, Vaako’s hand grabs Leonard’s cock and pulls with such force that Leonard gasps with pain, wanting to check that his cock is still attached to his body. Lightning fast, Vaako spins him and throws him back against the wall, pinning him by the hands. Vaako looks into his eyes, expression unreadable, and Leonard looks back with the same intensity. This has been the sixth fuck that they’ve shared (Leonard keeps track, as it reminds him of his worst days that he wants to forget), and this is the first time that either of them have uttered anything. Expression still unreadable, Vaako removes a hand, and for a moment, seems hesitant. His hand spasm as if to go and touch Leonard and Leonard can’t cope with this. He needs this violence, this fight, it’s the only fight he has left, and he growls, before throwing Vaako to the ground, biting his teeth into Vaako’s clavicle with enough aggression that Vaako arches his back and grabs both their cocks, hand scratching as it pumps, both riding out that moment of possible intimacy in pain and white oblivion. Neither stay still long enough to let the shakes pass, they’re too busy hauling on the clothes that made it to the floor, leaving before either has the suicidal notion of talking to the other.

The first time Vaako moans, Leonard has his cock deep inside him, hitting his prostrate with animal thrusts, and Vaako is scratching his own on Leonard’s forearms. As Leonard’s movements become erratic, Vaako rises to meet them and Leonard lunges forward. Bending over Vaako, his teeth latch onto the Purification Mark and it’s instinctive, Vaako moans with pain and pleasure. Both come within a second of each other, riding out each other’s waves, and as Leonard rises to go to the bathroom to dress, he pauses, as if to look back. That night, Vaako remembers the only other person who bit on the Mark, and he sleeps with silver eyes haunting him from the darkness.

It isn’t till the tenth time they fuck, that Vaako notices how much Leonard doesn’t drink. He stinks of alcohol, he hasn’t shaved for weeks by this point, and his eyes are full of despair as he fumbles with his belt buckle, trying to avoid catching his erect cock on the zipper, but he’s alert enough to stiffen whenever footsteps sound from the hallway, outside the window, alert enough to have noticed what makes the fuck pleasing and efficient for both of them. As he dresses in the bathroom (it’s his turn, a sort of unspoken rota), he pulls on his shirt, and muses, trying to remember if Leonard even had a drink before he dragged Vaako (by his eyes, they never touch outside of this room) to fuck out whatever life had thrown at him now.

It isn’t till a year later, when Leonard’s quiet “Happy birthday Joanna” is heard from the bathroom, that Vaako starts to wonder how fucked up this man is.

On the fifteenth, Leonard tries to work out why on earth Vaako likes his hair so bloody long. It’s good for dragging, and has even been used to tie him to the bed because there’s no rope or handcuffs to fulfil this scenario (it may be a seedy room, but not that seedy), but surely it gets in the way in normal life? What on earth does the guy do, that he has time to sit and braid that sheer mass of hair every day?

On the seventeenth, Leonard doesn’t even make it into the bar. Vaako’s out in the shadows as he trudges to the door (he had a letter, he couldn’t see Joanna, he was felt to be a danger to her), and he grabs Leonard’s wrist with such force that Leonard almost forgets the rules and cries out. Wordlessly, he’s pulled to the side of the building, his trousers end up at his ankles, his boxers at his knees, and he ruts into Vaako’s unforgiving hand while Vaako pounds into him, conscious of the timbered wall splintering slightly above his eye line, of the brown paint peeling where his hands grip for purchase, of the gravel crunching under Vaako’s feet as he shifts, of the bar patrons walking barely ten feet from them as they fuck. Afterwards, Vaako leaves without a word, and Leonard unconsciously pulls the anti-bacterial gel out of his pocket, rubbing his hands to clean them from the dirt.

Vaako wonders on the twenty-first time they fuck, whether they should really prepare, have some sort of lubrication apart from spit and come, some decent soap instead of the shit that’s left in the bathroom that seems to leave him dirtier when he cleans himself afterwards, maybe even some handcuffs so he’s not having to sit and untangle his hair for the next two days after having it tied to the bed frame.

Leonard wonders on the twenty-first time whether he should bring a towel that isn’t going to attack him such is the state of the advanced life-forms on the rags provided, whether condoms should be brought so that he isn’t having to hypo himself up with STI preventers afterwards, if he’s imagining Vaako having an extra set of floating ribs, as well as 34 pointed teeth.

The twenty-third fuck is when they both swear for the first time. Clothes had long been dispensed with; Leonard was licking the underside of Vaako’s cock refusing to swallow, while grazing his finger on his perineum. Vaako had his head thrust back on the faintly yellow pillows, one hand gripping the faded sheets while the other tugged at Leonard’s hair trying to force him to go down and swallow. Underneath them, the bed creaked, and the legs finally gave way, sending the bed to the floor with a deafening thump. A resounding cry of “FUCK!” came from both – Leonard from having a chunk of his hair pulled out, and Vaako from Leonard biting down as he inadvertently choked on his cock. Leonard gagged and pulled off, glaring at Vaako, who was too busy checking his cock was still attached to his body to notice. Eventually, they both looked at each other, seeing the same brief blink-and-you’ll-miss-it look of fear that they’d broken the rules, before continuing to fuck. Neither looked the other in the eye.

The twenty-fifth time is the night before Leonard leaves for Starfleet, and if anything, it’s fiercer than the first. Neither wants to give any leeway, neither wants to be the one that submits to the fear of him dying in space, to the knowledge that he’ll never go back, to the idea that they might not be able to cope with life without this ritual.

The twenty-fifth time is the first time they kiss. It’s gentle, hesitant, neither knows who initiated it, simply that they’re lying in sweat, come, torn and twisted bed sheets, bruises forming, scratches from nails, teeth and stubble starting to scab over, muscles aching with the release, and their lips are touching for the first time, spelling out I need this, I need you in brief pecks, eyes closed as though if they open and look, the other will disappear.

The twenty-fifth time is the first time they stay, unwilling to move, eyes still shut, shivers starting from the cooling of their sweat, hands reaching blindly to entwine in each other, falling asleep with their mouths just touching, breathing the same breath.

As the sun makes attempts to break through the morning mist, they dress silently. The rules have changed, now it’s uncertain what the other act will be. They even dressed in front of each other, neither acknowledging the stolen glances at slowly covered flesh. Leonard moves towards the door, bends to pick up his sole duffle bag which contains all he was allowed to keep, and pauses. He turns, faces Vaako, still looking anywhere else but at him. Vaako pauses in his tying of his laces. He doesn’t know the rules here – once no looking, no aftermath apart from leaving as soon as the fuck was over, now … he is uncertain, and a small voice inside laughs at the idea of the First Amongst Commanders being uncertain about anything.

Leonard moves closer, breaking the rule of never looking back. Vaako stands up, breaking the rule of no communication, even non-verbal. They kiss, unsure of who broke the rule of affection. It’s even more hesitant than before, as they stand for a long moment simply with their lips touching, no hands, no heart, before something drops on the gravel outside, and the spell breaks. They part, remembering the rule of not asking for their name, of not asking for promises of “next time”. There is never supposed to be a next time.

There is a whole year between the twenty-fifth and twenty-sixth time, and it’s only because Jim drags him away for a weekend. Like Leonard, Jim chafes at the restrictions Starfleet place on them, though Leonard is more annoyed at having to live like a student again, and Jim isn’t used to being cooped up. They drive as far as they can (Leonard still hating shuttles and transporters with a passion), and when they run out of gas, they stagger to the first bar they find, downing shots like their lives depend on it. They’re still hung-over from the previous night when they leave the next morning, repeat the same routine – though this time there is more loo stops, more stops to vomit on the side of the road. That night, they run out of gas right in front of the bar, and Leonard feels a shiver head down his spine as they walk in. As before, Jim orders drinks, and they down them and order more, using this weekend to get trashed with no consequences apart from killer hangovers. Jim gets lucky with the barmaid, leading her off with a wink and a mouthed “don’t wait up” to Leonard, and he watches them leave.

As Jim disappears through the door, Vaako enters, and Leonard feels his pulse start to rise. He acknowledges Vaako with a nod (breaking that rule which was already broken), and follows to the same bedroom as before. This time, it’s slow, there’s still the same intensity that marks all their fucks, but something’s changed. Now, instead of roughly pulling the other in, removing clothing as though it personally offended them, there are slow touches, gentle lifting of shirts, teasing fingers tracing across hipbones, languid kisses across clavicles, slowly moving towards the bed, lowering themselves onto the dirty sheets as they arch into the embrace of the other. The rough hands scratching possession change into soft fingers caressing scars, drifting to entwine with each other. Rutting impatiently into each other turns into gentle preparation, hesitant movements in and out. Shut eyes blanking out the world around them turn to open gazes, wandering up and down each other bodies, watching the other arch their back and shake with the effort of orgasm. Still silent, still no words between them, now it’s not because they don’t want to know, it’s because nothing needs to be said. They capture each other’s mouth with kisses, sinking to each other’s chests, falling asleep with joined hands and hearts.

The next morning brings them starting to dress and Leonard realising he left his boxers on the floor. The matter is resolved by Leonard removing the rest of his clothes, shortly followed by Vaako’s. It’s almost urgent this time, but still so slow as their hands curve around their bodies. Leonard traces Vaako’s scars with his lips and hands, while Vaako finds Leonard’s invisible ones and kisses them away. Vaako is the one who lowers Leonard to the bed, settling in between his thighs as Leonard hooks his legs around Vaako’s. Vaako is the one who draws out the moan from Leonard as he lowers his mouth onto Leonard’s cock, swirling his tongue, hands fluttering over Leonard’s nipples with ghostly touches. Leonard is the one who pulls Vaako away and runs his tongue over Vaako’s, flipping them and using Vaako’s hands to stretch him before lowering onto Vaako’s cock. Both of them gasp as Leonard moves up and down, forward and back, still trying to kiss as much as possible, coming with drawn out moans that would embarrass them no end if they cared enough about it. Trembling with the knowledge that they have to leave, they separate, cleaning and dressing each other with tender grips. Vaako gently does up Leonard’s belt buckle, while Leonard does up the buttons on Vaako’s shirt, hands moving his hair out of the way enough to do up the buttons with care. They stand together, foreheads touching, both wanting to speak and yet not break the silence – suddenly nervous. They lean in, gentle, mouths simply moving across each other, smoothing away each other’s frown lines, when Leonard’s communicator crackles – loud, harsh, and intruding.

Vaako is the first to pull away, letting Leonard answer his comm in peace. He doesn’t want to hear his voice, know what his name is; somehow … it’d be worse when he dies, like all humans do.

On the journey back to the Academy, Jim looks with narrowed eyes at Bones. Why on earth was he smiling? Did he get laid?

Link to part 2: http://amine-eyes.livejournal.com/15837.html