“God damn it.”
Vasquez raises his head up, shaking off the grip of sleep that had begun to settle over him. He furrows his brows, wrapping his arms a little tighter around the smaller man he was spooning up against.
“What is it?” He asks, brows furrowing to match Rhys’, though Rhys looks decidedly less confused and more bewildered, annoyed, as he looks back up at Vasquez and says:
“I think I’m falling in love with you.”
Thank you @pumpkinpillars for the suggestion!
“Rhys?”
“Yes?”
“May I come in?”
“Of course.”
Jack carefully pushes the door to Rhys’ office open, slipping inside and letting it shut with a velvet click behind him. To his surprise Rhys is sitting calmly at his desk, face illuminated an eerie blue as he plays some kind of game on his phone.
“Yes Jack? Are you finished with your perimeter check.”
“I…yes, I am, but…”
“But…?” Rhys’ eyes leave his game, flickering up at Jack.
“Well…there was not a…’mess’ in the meeting room when I left.”
“Oh that.” Rhys simpers, placing his phone down screen first and leaning his chin forward in his palm. Jack’s eyes prickle on the gold band on Rhys’ finger, muddied with blood.
“I mean, I can’t bother you for every little thing can I?” Rhys shakes his head, before beckoning Jack closer. His heartbeat quickens with his steps as he approaches the desk. He can see from here the dark spots on Rhys’ grey dress shirt, the skate of blood across his blue tie.
He grunts as Rhys reaches over sharply, grabbing the front of his shirt and tugging him against the desk, half-bent over the edge.
“I’m dirty and I want you to clean me up. Come shower with me?” Rhys purrs, his throat vibrating visibly, and Jack feels his pants tighten.
“What about…”
“The cleaning crew is coming,” Rhys growls impatiently, tilting his head up to kiss Jack’s prominent chin, “don’t say no to me.”
The little swipe of pink tongue, long and teasing, over Rhys’ plump lips makes Jack shiver in the tight confines of his suit.
He chuckles, hand sliding over the smooth surface of the desk, quickly joined by Rhys’ own. Their rings clink as their fingers slot together, both scenting each other softly over the desk dividing them.
“Would never do such a thing.”
Jack was lucky that all he’d gotten from a piece of explosion debris smacking him in the head was an amnesiac episode.
The doctors had assured Rhys that Jack would recover in due time, and would be able to remember everything as he recovered from his injury. The omega was encouraged to talk to Jack about their life together and other important details to help Jack recover his memory, something that he was more than willing to do.
He’d expected Jack to be a little more dazed and out of it when he entered the room, but instead of being greeted by confusion, Jack gave a loud wolf-whistle and blatantly ogled the omega up and down.
“Oh wow, will you look at all that…hello there, Mr. Legs For Days, do they send you in to ‘cheer up’ the patients?” Jack chuckled, pretty heartily for a man who’d been smacked on the head with the burnt hull of a weapons chest. Rhys stared for a moment, absolutely stunned that, even with his memory wiped, Jack was still hitting on him.
“Uh….well, no, actually,” Rhys started as he walked to the edge of the bed, placing a hand on Jack’s shoulder, “I’m Rhys, I’m your husband, the doctor sent me in to–”
“Son of a bitch, you’re my husband?” Jack gaped, eyes practically lighting up like he was a kid on Mercenary Day morning. “No way….I’m the luckiest bastard ever like, holy crap. I really frikkin’ scored!” The CEO whistled again, high-fiving himself and making the omega laugh, cheeks pink with blush.
Amnesia or not, there were some things about Jack that would just never change.
this is tentatively set in the badwrong rhysothy/rhackothy AU where tim has to become jack’s double to support rhys and his family
“What did he do to you?” Rhys nearly shouts, forgetting for a moment that it’s late at night, forgetting that he might wake up the children sleeping in the other room, forgetting everything except the horror of Timothy’s face as he unclips the plasticine mask from his face and lets it fall to the ground.
“He….” Tim breaths, voice catching in his throat, tears dripping down one side of his face, “he wants us to be…exactly alike…”
“He…he can’t…” Rhys gasps, feet stumbling numbly towards Tim as he presses his hands into the man’s face without thinking, drawing a sharp, animal cry from Tim as he shrinks back, eyelid only twitching over the ghostly, blood-streaked orb that had once been his husband’s left eye.
“He can’t do this.”
“He can.” Tim croaks miserably, blood bubbling at the corner of his blinded eye and pooling in the blistered skin.
“He owns us.”
so i know flash grenade blindness only really will last for a few minutes but. let us Pretend
“Stupid frikkin’ asshole! God–rrrarrgh! My frikkin’ eyes!” Jack snarls, writhing around in the chair he had been forced down into for his own safety, after the CEO had nearly run headfirst into one of Helios’ many decorative topiaries. This particular bush hadn’t been one of those that had been clipped into the CEOs likeness, but had it been, Rhys might have had to snap a screenshot of it with his ECHOeye before going to help his blinded boyfriend.
“Well, your guards kind of turned him into a paste so….karma?” Rhys smirks as he dabbed a soft cloth at the corner of Jack’s watering eyes, his pupils flicking to the touch of the man’s hand rather than trying to futilely meet his eyes.
“Stupid flash grenade. Who the hell even makes those anymore?” Jack growls, blinking furiously as Rhys swipes the last of the wetness from below Jack’s eyes. Best to not let his men see Jack crying, even if it was from pain rather than emotion.
“Sadly I didn’t really get to see the model before it um…you know, exploded in your face.” Rhys hums as he tucks the handkerchief in the inner pocket of his vest. “But hey, look on the bright side….at least it wasn’t a real one?” He offers with a shrug.
“Oh thanks, babe, you always know what to say…” Jack grumbles, but leans into Rhys’ touch as the young man cups his cheeks and kisses his forehead.
“What do you say we call it a day….we can do some uh…more tactile stuff at home until you can see again.” Jack probably means for that smile to be seductive, but with his eyes watery and unfocused, he just looks kind of weird, and Rhys just barely stifles a snicker.
“By all means, kiddo, lead the way.”
rhys/tim has like two modes: complete fluff, or Pain
“Please,” Rhys begged, winding his chrome hand with the one resting against the bed, tugging a little when he met resistance. He saw the flash of confusion in Timothy’s eyes, the arrogant raise of the brow and the slight affronted curl of his lip. Features that had been made for the purpose of these expressions, but had been softened and sweetened by Rhys over the years.
It pained him to see them back to the way they had been.
“Please….Timothy…you need to remember.” Rhys whispered, anxiously petting the man’s hand, eyes searching Timothy’s for a sign of that tender recognition, that care and understanding that had brought Rhys back from the brink many a night rebuilding Atlas, but all he was met with was a hard, steely shell of mistrust.
“Why the heck do you keep calling me that?” He growled, narrowing his eyes at Rhys as he snatched his hand away from the man’s grasp.
“The name is Jack, cupcake.”
TheSpaceCoyote 