Author's Note: Just a short fic for a special day
Disclaimer: I do not own Power Rangers or any related media or characters. The story idea is my own but the rest isn't. Everything is copyrighted to its respective owners.
WARNING!: This fic will contain slash
Extra Note: Contains some spoilers for certain plot points in the series, AU, etc.
What he'd done was excessively stupid, Dillon was pretty sure of that. He'd driven out into the wasteland with only one tank of gas, a few containers of water, and a few miscellaneous other items that were not at all useful at present. His compass didn't want to work, the world's magnetic directions screwed up after Venjix destroyed the world, and to top it off, his map was near impossible to read.
Ultimately, it meant one thing – Dillon was lost. He had no idea how to find Corinth from his present location, and even if he could, it wasn't likely that he'd be able to make it there before he ran completely out of water or gas. Looking at the water bottle in his hand – the last of his supply – and sighed irritably. What a way to go – wandering around the wastes and with no one around to care.
But, there was someone who cared. At the back of his mind, he could think of that person he needed to get back to, the one he had to find. It was more important to him than his own life, and yet, the man wondered if he was even worth that. He was a jerk, with not much in the way of a past or a future, and honestly, dying unmourned in the wasteland suited him better than he wanted to admit.
With a sigh, however, he got back into the car. It didn't matter what suited him or what he liked, it mattered that he got back to the person he was seeking and found a way to make things right. It was his fault he was in this situation in the end, and Dillon ultimately knew it was more important to get to this person than to please himself. It was all that kept him driving, the music on the car's systems drowning out most of his thoughts besides his determination. But still his eyes shot back to that dwindling gas supply and to the water-bottle next to him, barely full.
What was probably the worst about this was the awful sense of deja vu that seemed to just come with the territory. The sight of a flower growing out of the dead ground just drove that home, causing Dillon to break before running it over and lean his head on his steering wheel, trying to block out the memories that came flooding to him. It had been a day just like this and a situation just like this that he'd first escaped Venjix, driving wildly away from the machine monster's holding facilities, knowing only that he needed to get to Corinth to refuel and get more water. It had been so long ago, and it felt almost innocent, thinking back, on how he'd just blundered along in that situation. Wasting his car's fuel supply driving aimlessly, leaving it on when he got out to look around at the complete lack of landmarks the wasteland provided. And then, there'd been that stupid flower.
At the time, it probably hadn't seemed like a stupid, futile and possibly fatal move. There had been a single flower in the wastes, blossoming in spite of the dead world around it. He'd drenched it in the last of his water on almost a whim, because he felt sorry for it, somewhere deep inside. He also didn't know much, if anything, about plant life, but that was probably due to the amnesia thing. Dillon had told the story to a few of his friends at one point, and was told pretty plainly that he may have drowned that plant as if it were blooming that well, it probably had a perfectly fine water supply, and really didn't need his interference. The man found that it had lived about a year later when they located an oasis in the area of that plant, but given that not only were there plants but also clean water and mountains, he was pretty sure that had had absolutely nothing to do with him.
With a small growl, Dillon got out of his car, taking the water bottle with him. He took a last swig from it before dumping the water on the plant. It was stupid and really spiteful, but right now, just seeing that stupid plant and remembering the memories it brought up, just made this seem even worse and more futile, as he could see that there was no oasis nearby and therefore this was definitely not the landmark he hoped it would be.
Throwing away the bottle, the man got back into his car and stepped on the break. If he was going to die out here, broken, alone and angry, well then he was going to drive and drive till his car died too. Sure, it was stupid and pointless and a huge waste, but that hopeless feeling in Dillon's chest was overpowering and he had decided long ago that he preferred to be angry than sad. So with his eyes fixed ahead, he drove on.
Venjix had been a hard nut to crack, and when he returned the second time, having hacked the bio-field through a morpher, they had a much harder time beating him. But it had been done and the group had settled down a bit more. Corinth had been slowly expanding and colonies had been popping up all around the world, but it was still so hard to find one or the other in a car without knowing where you were going. Especially when a person had as bad of a sense of direction as Dillon did.
It was Ziggy who generally had the map-skills and directional-sense. On occasion he'd say the wrong word, or have to be reminded that certain factors did or didn't apply because one was in a megazord or there wasn't traffic to be accounted for. In the end, however, he was the best navigator of the group and that had only improved with time. But Ziggy's skillset had always been on the weird and random side, and that was probably what made him so great for the youth group he ran.
Dillon sighed deeply, thinking of Ziggy properly and remembering why he had been so desperate to get back. The two of them had always had a complicated relationship, but usually their fights were more easily solved. If it were physical, it would end in them practically wrestling till they wound up kissing and the next thing either knew they'd been in bed. A verbal fight tended to be worse to deal with, but those tended to just melt into physical fights in the end to. Afterwards they were both tender, cuddly and very affectionate, something Dillon had been rather eager to hide from the others for a time, and that had been a source of contention for many years.
This time, instead of just storming to a friends house or going to crash on Scott's couch, Dillon had said he was leaving for real, that he hated Zigs, and threw a few gallons of water in the car before driving off into the Wastelands like a complete moron. At the time, he'd been feeling spiteful and hurt, thinking that leaving the other and going somewhere it would be harder to find would show him just how serious he was. But Dillon wasn't serious, and it had been a completely stupid fight. He couldn't even remember what about even!
In all honestly, it had probably been plans for their anniversary. They had been married 20 years ago today, on the only date that had ever been particularly important to them. It was the day Dillon had arrived in Corinth, the day they had both met and that he'd met the other rangers. The two of them usually alternated who planned things what year, and this year it had been Dillon's turn and he had been just completely blank on what to do. The year before, Ziggy had managed something phenomenal that he had absolutely no way of topping. The other often assured his husband that this wasn't a competition and they didn't need to top each other in that sense, but Dillon still felt he had to out do it to truly make it up to his husband and show the other how he felt in that sense. And here he was, as far away from the one he loved as possible on this of all days. To think he was probably going to die out here on this day too.
"Of all the things to have for a mid-life crisis," the man snarled quietly, stepping out of the car to spread his map out on the roof and see if he could at least try to figure out his present location. He was calmed down a bit from his earlier fit at the flower, he could at least try to get home. But looking at that paper caused him to irritably sigh and throw a lollipop into his mouth to keep from biting his tongue. The map looked about as blank as ever and the wastes weren't getting any more easy to navigate.
It was as he was about to give up yet again when his thoughts were completely interrupted by something being pressed into his spine.
"Okay hands in the air," came a familiar and surprisingly authoritative voice behind him.
Dillon would have spoken, said something, anything, but when the command was repeated, he slowly raised a brow and lifted his hands, removing the sucker from his mouth and slowly letting it fall from his fingers. This was weird – was the person behind him not at all who he thought it was, or was the world just going insane? Or maybe he was hallucinating, that was also a possibility.
What assured him that he was definitely not hallucinating was when a hand snapped out and caught the lollipop before it hit the ground and vanished behind him with it once more. He knew those nimble fingers and thin hands, which just made this entire business seem so much stranger. What the hell was he playing at?
"All right then, you're going to tell me what you're doing out here and where you're going," the voice behind him demanded now. It sent a shiver right down Dillon's shoulders and to his groin at the slight muffle in the words because of the sucker. Okay, at least part of this had to be teasing, because there was no way in hell Ziggy'd bother with stealing something as trivial as his snack for something serious.
Yet, here he was, in the wasteland on his anniversary with his husband, and he'd not only completely failed at making the day special or worthwhile, but he'd also caused the other a lot of hurt in doing this. Zigs had some confidence issues that made him awkward about their relationship – another thing that was a common source of fighting between them – so acting on those fears and actually leaving had to be exceptionally heartwrenching. And thinking of that, of the pain his love must have gone through because of him, made playing along with this and teasing so much harder.
He breathed out quietly before finally answering. "I was attempting to find Corinth city. But I got lost."
The smirk on Ziggy's face was almost audible as the other spoke again, "Well luckily for you, I can take you there, for a price. But you have to tell me, what's in Corinth for you, hm?" There was something dark and sultry behind those words, attempting to draw Dillon out of the funk he was in.
"I have someone I need to go home to, to apologize to and to tell I love." The words held an echo of a memory to them, as Dillon could remember saying them on a day like today, when he'd returned from leaving with Summer and Tenaya, finally having seen the error of his ways in thinking she was what he wanted or needed and that traveling alone in the wasteland with them for no reason was a kind of stupid idea.
A snort issued behind him and the other pressed the object closer to his back – an outtake pipe of some sort, the other had probably had to bring out here with him. "Head in the game, pretty boy, I'm making demands here and I don't want you zoning out."
The fact that Ziggy was still playing around like this, after Dillon had essentially said he was sorry – which they both knew that had been – was actually rather infuriating. Right now he was vulnerable, and hurt and his lover just seemed to be playing around and teasing him. That was actually really infuriating. The man wanted to be able to hold and love his husband, to know things were okay between them, and the other was teasing, playing coy and almost tauntingly staying out of reach, both figuratively and literally.
"Stop playing around," he ground out, fists clenching as he tried to quell the part of him that wanted to turn around and smash the stupid pipe and just punch the other. He tried to focus on the horrible bruises that came up on the others face when he hit with his full strength. Sadly, that just made him a little more interested in doing that – Dillon wanted to make the other pay for making him worry and hurt about possibly losing him, and then torturing him like this when he was finally found.
The was something less coy in Ziggy's tone, something more annoyingly challenging as he spoke now, "Maybe you've forgotten, but I'm the one with the blaster."
"That isn't a blaster. It's an outtake pipe," Dillon found himself snarling, his temper outweighing his desire to be back home with his lover and be forgiven. Afterwards, the man would probably be upset, really worried and broken over having actually physically hurt his lover, but right now, he wasn't thinking rationally or like a human, he was practically a wild animal that Ziggy was poking with a stick and daring to not hurt him.
The amused chuckle Ziggy let out at that was what finally snapped Dillon into turning around and slamming his fist through the pipe, breaking it – and leaving him face to face with the actual blaster his lover had had in his other hand. Having the cold metal of it pressed to his face remind Dillon just where he was and what the hell he was doing, and the color drained from his face.
Leaning on the car some as his knees buckled, the man almost broke down completely. He should have been relieved, really, since this meant his husband knew him well enough to keep a backup in case he flew off the handle. But that overwhelming shame and grief at having nearly hurt his lover, or something much worse, was setting in and it was just as irrational as the anger, but more powerful.
Tossing aside the broken pipe carefully, Zigs now played with the lollipop's stem with his free hand, obviously teasing it with his tongue. He said nothing right here, letting Dillon calm down and slowly drawing the older male's attention back to the game. Whatever it was his lover was playing at, the younger man knew how to manipulate it to keep things going his way, but also how to be cautious because of how volatile the other could be. And that's when it hit him, that if Ziggy was holding the real blaster in his right hand, how the hell had he grabbed the sucker before it fell?
When Dillon asked as much, the other smiled around it slowly, making a point to draw it out of his mouth and lick the top of it as he did, sending another shiver through Dillon. "I didn't draw the second one till you started to stiffen up."
As Ziggy put the sucker back in his mouth, his husband reached out slowly to try and touch him, to bring the younger man to him and just make this better. But with care and ease, Zigs moved carefully out of his reach and for a brief moment Dillon was frightened that the other really was still mad at him and this was all just a torment of what he couldn't have to really drive that point home. But the younger man eased that by making a little 'no' motion with his finger before reaching out a hand to tenderly caress his husband's cheek, breaking character but reassuring the other just the same. It was a brief touch but the skin on skin like that for such a short period was enough to let Dillon know that this was all a game, all meant in play and out of love, not meant to punish him. He kissed the other's palm as it was drawn away from his face, and relaxed enough to play along when the younger man straightened up and motioned with the gun for Dillon to turn back around.
Facing forward once more, the man suddenly realized what a lot of this was intended to be. The way his lover was essentially dominating him right now was reminiscent of so many of their nights together over the years, where they'd let the roles reverse and play around with who was really in control. But in a way, this was so much more intimate than any bedroom encounter could be for them. This brought up the deepest, most private, and oldest memories in Dillon's mind after he'd escaped Venjix. The way he'd even met Zigs was when the younger male tried to hold him up for his car. The older man had admitted to himself later that had he not been so afraid and confused by how new the feeling of attraction was, he'd have taken the other then and there, right against his car. He hadn't understood wanting like this then, and every time after that that Dillon restrained himself from making the other his, he thought back to that moment where he could easily have had what he wanted. For years it had been just an odd desire, and after they had gotten together it had been a source of severe guilt – that Dillon would have done that to his love against his wishes, and with no emotion to it but lust. But when he'd admitted that secret to the other, almost fifteen years after they had gotten together, he had been surprised by the response – that had he done that, not only would he have been able to have Ziggy right then, the other would have more than wanted it.
He was drawn from his thoughts by the voice of his lover, a sultry whisper now. "You zone out so easily, for someone so usually alert."
"I can't help it, it's easier for me to focus on the pressure of a weapon or not-weapon to my back when I'm not thinking about other things I could be doing with my assailant." Dillon's voice had become husky by now, and it was getting hard to clear himself from the haze of desire to try and keep playing. The more this situation reminded him of his old needs, the more he started to sink into a different type of animalistic behavior, and the more difficult it became to play along. He hoped soon this torturous game would end and he'd be able to reap the rewards of it, because if it didn't, he'd wind up giving into his fantasies.
The other stepped closer slowly, pushing the blaster further into Dillon's spine – not hard enough to hurt, but definitely an easy to focus on pressure. "So, what this tells me is that you can exactly identify long hard objects pressed into you without looking at them." And very suddenly the blaster's pressure was removed as Ziggy wrapped his arms around Dillon's chest, pulling him against his body, and the older male felt a much more pleasant pressure against himself. His lover wanted him to snap and give into the fantasies didn't he? Dillon wanted his love badly, and it was obvious right now that the feeling was more than mutual.
The younger man was now tall enough, after all of these years, to be able to whisper against Dillon's neck without having to stand up on his tip toes. His lips caressed a spot that they both knew was particularly tender for the older man, and Dillon found himself whimpering very loudly. If he didn't have what he wanted soon, he was going to break, and the whisper his lover gave didn't make that any better.
"Mmm looks like you identified that one correctly too." The words were whispered against the now wet flesh of his neck and Dillon found his eyes traveling down to a spot where his shirt had been pulled up a little in the front due to how they were pressed together. Zigs' hands were visible, one holding the blaster and the other holding the wet sucker, wrapped nicely around his stomach. But as the younger man felt Dillon's eyes on his hand, he began to move it, slowly trailing that wet sucker down the slightly exposed flesh just above his belt before letting the item fall from his fingertips. There was something about that, something hot and desirable that just cracked the last of Dillon's resolve and the man immediately turned to slam his lover into the side of the car with a passionate kiss.
Hours later, the two were resting in the back seat, barely clothed in the much cooler night of the desert. Dillon was breathing deeply and just holding his lover to him, all of the emotion from earlier in the day gone finally. They had each other, and their anniversary had been less broken-hearted and empty than Dillon had imagined. It was all too perfect.
"How did you even know how to find me?" Dillon found himself asking after a while, tracing small circles on his lover's bare shoulders.
Ziggy snorted quietly, "You're pretty easy to find – you generally just drive straight till you feel better. Anyway, the Doc put a tracer in the Fury years ago for when you decide to drive off and I'm not around to tell them where the hell you went, so even if you did get away from me, I had a way to find you."
Dillon chuckled, "The only reason you wouldn't be around to help find me is because I'd have taken you with me."
"Or left to find you already."
The man nuzzled tenderly at his lover, kissing his cheek a little and grinning, "So, did you come in a vehicle of your own, or did you just walk around aimlessly till you found me."
"I borrowed one of Flynn's junkers, filled it full of more water than I know you took, and several jugs of gas so we could get back. You might have to tow it back though, or Flynn'll get pissed at me." Zigs grinned, leaning up to kiss his lover's nose.
The older man sighed, leaning back as much as his car allowed. Even with the front seats down it was still very cramped back there – but it was still perfect and still so them. "This wasn't as grand or fancy as I was hoping to give you this year."
"I told you before – I don't need fancy, I need you," Ziggy laughed, resting his head against the other's chest.
"And yet, in the end, you were the one who made this more special than last year. Which means next year I have to top you two years in a row." Dillon was teasing now, less worried about formalities in the wake of everything that had happened.
"Haven't you topped me plenty tonight?" Ziggy teased, a dark grin on his features.
Dillon caught his lover's eye and found himself matching that grin, "I dunno, I think I'm up for a few more times."
As Zigs leaned in for another heated kiss that would definitely be leading into more, he whispered against the older man's lips, "Happy anniversary," and truly, it was.
And a happy anniversary to my fans and the very awesome At The End of Dreaming. I've been writing RPM fics off and on for a year now, and I've been steadily friends and email companions with Dreamy for the full year, at 3400 emails as of today. So here's to more years of awesome and I hope you guys enjoyed this one-shot.