I haven't posted anything for a while, and this little idea popped into my head, so I thought I'd take a break from my other stuff to get it written down. It's a little more explicit than the others, I think, but I'm still kind of awkward when it comes to big sex scenes so I'm going to let you be creative with them for a while ;)
Enjoy, as always; please, read and review! There's quite a bit of swearing, pardon me, but I think it's used appropriately. If swearing is ever used appropriately :) The violin piece is 'Manic Depression' by Emilie Autumn, by the way. It's amazing, so check her out.
Disclaimer: Reanimator and characters belong to H.P. Lovecraft, Jeffrey Combs, Bruce Abbott, Stanley Gordon, Brian Yuzna, &c.
What Are Friends For?
Monday. Quick coffee before heading for the Miskatonic.
Herbert glanced up at Dan again, across, the table, jotting some notes and scribbling one of Tchikovsky's pieces down the side to further relieve his boredom. He sighed, taking another sip of coffee. He looked back up, to find Dan's hand crashing down on the table and his brown eyes overflowing with the same irritability they'd been ridden with for the last three - four? - months.
"Jesus Christ," he ground out, at length, his brown hair slightly ruffled. Herbert raised an eyebrow, his cool eyes regarding Dan with a hint of disbelief and surprise behind the square glass planes. "Just stop staring at me, for one bloody second."
Herbert looked away, back to his notes, his coffee remaining untouched for the next ten minutes they sat there in total silence. Dan relaxed, though his muscles never lost all of their pent-up tension. He sighed, though it was a half-growl, and fell quiet. Lately, he didn't bother to add an apology.
Seemingly for the millionth time in the space of a quarter of a year, Herbert West noted that Dan was very much disgruntled. The phrase 'Pissed off' would probably do Dan's volatile moods more justice.
Why was Dan so pissed off?
For four months, he'd had no sex whatsoever.
No sex, no kissing, no wet dreams...whenever he even thought about jacking off, he got too frustrated to do anything and just launched pillows and alarm clocks at the closest convenient wall. He was moody; he was, literally, a volcano ready to explode.
And for four months, nothing - nobody, rather - had set him off.
He blamed Herbert. In some way, he felt that it was his fault. He couldn't justify why, he just believed it; and so, though Herbert was pretty much the only person he spoke to (albeit in grunted monosyllables), Herbert was also at the receiving end of his claustrophobic irritation.
Tuesday. Finishing another boring vivisection class.
Dan heard a soft voice behind him. He turned around, a small, pleasant girl beaming up at him.
He tried not to scowl. He really only looked apathetic. He immediately disliked her; she was too happy. Her smile hurt his eyes.
"I was just wondering...gosh, I'm kind of embarassed now," she giggled, her cheeks turning pink. Dan simply stared at her indifferently.
Herbert observed silently from a nearby chair, packing his things away. He'd spent his time writing up a violin piece from Bach's Brandenburg Concerto. His new violin was arriving tomorrow, so he wanted to have something ready to play.
He heard the girl ask Dan out, and he watched Dan coolly staring down at her. A lot of girls had asked Dan out recently, and each time he'd said no. Herbert knew Dan was sexually frustrated; it was the only explanation for his moodswings. He sighed, hearing Dan decline again, wondering how long this would last for. Yes, he was insanely jealous when Dan brought girls home, but it was better than his un-Dan-like behaviour and cruelty.
The girl walked away, looking deflated. Herbert decided against approaching Dan, and left the room. Dan stared after him, furious that his small, slender flatmate hadn't even attempted to talk to him. He strode out of the room after him. He couldn't see him. Giving a strangled noise of annoyance, he crossed his arms and stormed to the cafeteria. He needed food.
It was the same as usual. He couldn't find anything he wanted, so he left, his mood blacker than ever.
Wednesday. Flicking through channels. Eventually hitting the 'Power Off' button and throwing the remote across the room.
Herbert entered the living room slowly, holding his Ted Brewer Hades violin by the neck and grasping the bow in his other hand. He bit his lower lip.
"Is it -"
"You can play your bloody violin, Herbert," Dan snapped, resting his head on his hand. Herbert nodded, resting his head comfortably on the chin rest.
Dan was used to Herbert playing his acoustic violin. He knew that Herbert had saved for an electric violin for a while, and he didn't really know what to expect. Then the vibrant, electric notes burst through the living room and Dan was, even in his wound-up state, taken aback.
Herbert finished a few minutes later, glad to be in the lighter living room as opposed to his bedroom although playing in front of Dan wasn't his favourite past-time; not now, when an unfortunate E string or a few seconds of vibrato could send him into a frenzy.
Still, he took Dan's silence as a good thing.
"Well?" he dared to press. Not eager, or curious...just simply. A syllable would suffice.
Dan nodded. He repeated this motion a few times, and Herbert mirrored him once, satisfied.
Suddenly Dan rose from his seat. Herbert froze, not sure that to expect. Dan stood behind him, Herbert's breath catching in his throat.
"What's pizzicato?" he asked.
He demonstrated, plucking the strings with nible fingers. Dan watched him, moving his eyes up Herbert's arm, to his neck, his thick hair, his shoulders. He inhaled, and realised that Herbert smelt...
He wasn't sure how to describe it. Intoxicating. Clean. Amazing.
Dan was used to synthetic perfumes, cheap or expensive, sharp, tingling; they made him sneeze at the best of times. Herbert simply smelt like Herbert; the tiniest amount of aftershave, pure, delicious. Dan kept inhaling, Herbert aware of this but resolutely focusing his attention instead of the piano.
For the first time in months, Dan felt sharp pangs of arousal shoot through him. He strongly felt that he had to press his hands to Herbert's waist, hold him, bury his nose in his neck.
He didn't. He simply tore himself out of the room, slamming the door, the strings echoing off into silence. Herbert frowned, his breaths shallow and frequent. His pale brow furrowed in confusion.
Dan was furious. At Herbert. For doing that.
Herbert was baffled. At Dan. For, though briefly, being relatively content.
Thursday. One sheep. Two sheep. Three fucking sheep.
Dan stared at the ceiling. He'd memorised every crack and imperfection in it by now. He could have painted it by memory, a million times over. Instead he just watched it, waiting for the night it would move, fall down, and crush him to death. Then, perhaps, he'd get some peace.
It was raining outside. It had been since yesterday evening, and it was exasperating. He had nothing to do, nowhere to go.
He sighed, getting up, moving into the living room. Herbert's spindly, swirling violin was in its case near the couch. The light was on in the kitchen, although Dan couldn't hear any noise.
He entered, the warm glow swallowing him. He jumped as the door opened, Herbert stepping in, his hair looking dark and longer than usual as it dripped water. His clothes were presse to him, exaggerating his languid frame, and Dan slanted an eyebrow as Herbert locked the door, took his shoes off, took his glasses from his pocket, put them on, turned to him, and simply said "It's a beautiful night for star gazing."
Dan frowned. "You star gaze?"
Herbert shrugged, shivering.
"Infrequently. I thought it was a good idea."
One corner of Dan's mouth rose.
"Yes, I am aware of that, Dan."
Dan shook his head, grabbing one of his coats and draping it around Herbert's shoulders. Herbert sneezed, sheepishly, which Dan found strangely adorable, and he turned the kettle on. Herbert sat down at the table, shivering slightly, and, though they didn't say anything for the rest of the night, the atmosphere was decidedly merrier.
Friday. Downhill from there.
That morning, Dan was the living embodiment of the phrase 'woken up on the wrong side of bed.'
He ghosted through the day, growling, groaning, rolling his eyes, clenching his fists, wanting to hit things. Herbert was used to it; most people were, by now. But it was still as annoying as ever, not that Dan cared.
The evening came and passed; the night was as horrendously quiet as ever, Dan sat on the couch in the bright living room and Herbert leaning against the wall, staring at the one parallel to him. This seriously had to stop. It was getting in the way of their work. For the past month, Dan hadn't helped him with any number of scientific experiments.
And it wasn't just that.
Herbert hadn't realised, until now, how much he missed Dan Cain. Not his assistant, or flatmate, or peer; he missed Dan, who would always smile when things got tough. Dan, who was glad for what he got and tried as hard as he could, because he actually have a damn. Dan, who went out of his way to care about other people. Dan, who would - Herbert knew - defend him when people spoke ill of him. He smiled.
He watched his friend - friend. First. Only. Strange word, friend - running his hands through his hair, shifting in agitation.
"Herbert, stop thinking. It's too loud."
Herbert raised an eyebrow. Dan wasn't even looking at him.
"Someone has to think," he said calmly. "And since all you can gather sufficient energy for entails staring aimlessly and wanting to hit things, I have to be that person."
Dan looked at him. They held the tense gaze for a minute, neither moving. Dan eventually looked away, rolling his eyes and sighing dramatically. Herbert took his glasses off, holding his face for a second before returning them and watcing Dan again.
"I don't know why you turned that girl down," he thought aloud, ironically without thinking at all. Dan looked up, turning to Herbert.
"How do you know about that?"
Herbert bit his lower lip, proceeding with a certain amount of caution. "I heard you. I was sat right next to you, not that you would have noticed." He ran a hand through his own hair, unnerved to find Dan's eyes flitting to observe his every miniscule movement. "If you would have said yes, you'd probably be fine. Sexual abstinence really doesn't suit you, Dan."
Dan's eyes glinted, and Herbert wondered how many lines he'd crossed in Dan's mind. "I haven't exactly abstained on purpose," he spat, virulent. Herbert crossed his arms over his chest.
"What other reason is there?" he asked, laughing a little - sarcastically. It was in his nature. He was really the cruel one, after all. "Any girl would go out with you. What, can't you get it up? Because there are pills for that now, you know, and I really do think it would be in your -"
"I don't want a stupid fucking girl and I don't need goddamn pills!" Dan thundered. The silence succeeding that outburst was almost as painful, and almost as electric as Herbert's violin. Tension, everywhere, every which way you turned. It was unavoidable.
"Then what do you need?" Herbert asked, quietly.
Dan looked at him with agonized eyes and buried his head in the couch.
Herbert simply shook his head and left the room, listing various ways he could kill himself.
Saturday. I don't care. I an determined not to care, regardless of the potential outcome.
Herbert repeated those words religously.
Dan was again stretched out on the couch, not doing anything as usual. In under five seconds, Herbert had crossed into the living room, approached Dan, grasped the front of his shirt, and pulled him into a more-or-less sitting position.
"Snap out of it," he growled, his voice low and his eyes burning into Dan's, "now."
He pressed their lips together, holding nothing back, his hands wrapping forcefully around Dan's neck. His brain was registering various things. First and foremost, Dan had made an innocent, surprised noise, that somehow sounded irresistably attractive. Second, this was Herbert's first kiss, and he was bloody enjoying it. There was something about simply knowing that Dan was kissing him, and tangling his hands in his hair wildly, that in turn drove him almost as crazy as the owner of the tongue that was fantastically trailing along his lower lip.
Herbert fell, straddled, and jumped on Dan all at once, his glasses falling off and Dan's hands tracing the curve of his spine. He moaned, his head falling to Dan's shoulder, Dan pressing kisses to Herbert's neck and inhaling as deeply as possible. He smiled, almost cockily. Proudly. Everything about Herbert truly was intoxicating.
The smaller, wriy man kissed him again, with just as much passion as before. He smiled, moving his hands to Dan's waist, hips...
"Herbert...oh my God..."
They almost came then and there. Dan at how amazing Herbert's hand were, and Herbert at the sheer amount of lust colouring Dan's hazy moans.
Herbert moved off of Dan, pulling him up. Dan's eyes widened.
"Wh-where are we..."
"Bedroom," Herbert announced, through damp lips. "I'm not taking any chances."
Dan pinned him against the wall, kissing him again. Herbert succumbed hastily, feeling Dan's arms wrap around him, hoisting him up, their kisses shorter and more frequent.
"My room," Dan breathed, pushing his door open. "Bed's bigger."
Herbert fell down roughly against the bed, Dan's hands running over his torso. His back arched, thrills running through him.
He hadn't really thought about this at all. It just seemed so obvious, in the mathematical type equations pulsing through his formerly chaste head. Dan was moody beause he wasn't having sex. Dan + person = normality. And it seemed Herbert was the person. He hadn't thought about what this would do to their relationship. He didn't want to be locked in a 'friends with benefits' situation, because he knew Dan might see other people, and he couldn't deny any longer that he would be jealous. But despite this jealousy, he didn't know if he wanted a full-flown romantic relationship. Commitment. Which, of course, Dan might want.
So with this in mind, as Dan bit his neck and ran his hands down Herbert's sides, both getting hotter and hotter, the only words running through Herbert's mind were 'Fuck. Damn it. God. Help. I shouldn't be doing this. God...I'm glad I am.'
He hadn't taken into account how good making out with Dan would feel. He didn't realise how, though this was his first time at anything remotely romantic or sexual, easy things seemed to flow between them.
Dan finally removed Herbert's tie, Herbert sitting up to wrap his arms around Dan, letting them almost casually rest on his shoulders as he pressed a single, lingering kiss to his lips.
Dan rested his forehead on Herbert's, both breathing in heavily. He had to ask now, or he never would. And he knew he'd regret it.
"This is your first time," he whispered, in the darkness. He could see Herbert perfectly, and he nodded. For the first time, he looked genuinely nervous. Nervous, scared...with that beautiful, chaste shyness only a virgin could present in this situation. The shyness that Dan relished, and knew, no matter what, he would relish forever.
"Thanks for reminding me," Herbert smiled. Dan bit Herbert's lower lip, softly, Herbert melting immediately and dropping his arms to gently touch Dan's jaw. They pulled away, staring at each other. Four months of agonizing tension had boiled down to this. Dan didn't know how he'd survived that long.
But they both knew that now they'd come this far, they couldn't go back. Not if they wanted things to be how they were. It may seem ridiculous, but they were both aware of his Dan needed this. Of how Herbert needed Dan, one way or another. The future of their relationship was on stony ground, but the present was set in stone instead.
"This is it, then," Dan noted. Herbert nodded. "Are you scared?"
Herbert West. Reanimator of the dead. Unaccredited murderer - or at least manslaughterer - of several people. Scientist, sociopath, and severely damaged genius.
Scared of sex? Of intimacy, and affection?
Herbert felt weak even as he did it, but he embraced Dan, shaking a little, closing his eyes and burying his head in his shoulder.
"Yes," he thought. To himself, never vocalising his fear.
Instead, he pulled Dan on top of him, kissing him hungrily. He felt perverse, and wrong, but at the same time, he couldn't think of anything he'd rather do more. Reanimating the dead could wait.
Right now, he had to reanimate Dan.
Herbert was embarassed by nakedness.
He'd seen many naked cadavers. They were science.
This...wasn't science. This was intimate.
Don't lose it, he thought, moaning against Dan again, his hands in his damp hair, clutching his scalp.
One. Two. Three.
They could feel themselves welling up, Dan trembling and Herbert panting. Herbert felt so broken...and, listening to Dan's screams, so perfect.
"I...I...Herbert, oh God!" Dan exclaimed, Herbert holding himself tighter, his back arched. He was practically off of the bed.
"Dan..." He called his name, again and again, various moans clouding the air inbetween.
In the moment before Dan came, he shouted "I love you."
Dan collapsed against Herbert, Herbert's head rolling back onto the bed, his hair sticking to his scalp. He couldn't breathe, and he felt slightly sick, but Christ...he'd never felt anything like how he did right now. How he'd felt three seconds ago, when every brewing moment over the last four months had disappeared.
Dan breathed heavily, Herbert trying to catch his breath. They lay next to each other, their fingers entwined together. Herbert had a single tear in his eye, and he couldn't determine which kind of tear it was.
Dan licked his lips, swallowing. He turned to Herbert.
There was a long pause.
Herbert smiled. In a way, he felt like a whore. And in others, a really fucking good friend. And yet, in others...scared. More scared than before. Dan hugged him, gently, and Herbert smiled, and didn't know where they were going to go from here.
"What are friends for?"
"Trust me, Herbert, friends don't do that for each other."
Herbert pressed his face against Dan's chest. He could feel his heart.
"What are we, if not friends?"
Neither answered. At that moment in time, there really was no answer.
Instead of offering one, Dan instead laughed, kissing Herbert's forehead.
"I don't know how you've lasted this long, I really don't."
"I'm not as needy as you," he said. Dan grinned against him.
"Maybe not," he agreed. "But you're bloody amazing."
Sunday.Not quite ready to go back to sleep.
"We should really talk, you know, Herbert."
If Herbert's eyes would have been open, he would have rolled them, and he would have groaned. But his eyes weren't open, and his tongue wasn't free to make any other noise than a soft moan against Dan's neck.
"Mm...maybe later." He looked up at Dan. "Is that a problem?"
Dan looked down, beholding Herbert; his pale face, rosy lips, crystalline eyes. The bite marks on his neck. He bit the inside of his cheek.
"No, that's fine for now."