11 November 2011 @ 02:57 pm
[orison] rock bottom  
 Ellis slips into Aidan's bed, pressing up close to the other man. Aidan is naked, lying on his back with his blanket only covering the lower half of his body. Having cleaned himself up after a night with Aidan, Ellis had considered wearing his nightclothes, but he allows himself this much sentiment with the Hunter. No, it will never be quite what he wants it to be, but this way, at least he has something.

He breathes deeply, and Ellis marvels at the fact that Aidan used to be quite a light sleeper when Ellis was allowed to stay, but now he can hardly be roused by anything. The priest likes to think it is because he is trusted. He cannot claim it as fact, but it is a nice thought.

Aidan is warm, and it is comfortable to snuggle against the contours of his body, rest a hand on his chest and idly run his fingers down the lines his muscles create, listing each one silently to himself. It helps ground him in reality, to prove that he is actually here and not in some spectacular dream. Aidan shifts only slightly, his face turning a fraction toward Ellis, who smiles. Yes, he loves this man. He never suspected that he might, but it is undeniable. This feeling is too strong to be anything else. He slides his hand up to graze Aidan's cheek with his thumb, gingerly stroking his hair out of his face; Aidan sighs. For all the Hunter complains about how clingy Ellis is when he sleeps, he never once suggests Ellis go back to what he used to do, sitting outside and waiting for Aidan to wake up. For this reason, he often prefers going to the barracks, although he has given up on trying to befriend any fellow Hunters for fear of what Aidan might do to them. He doesn't see any harm in it, but Aidan does what Aidan wants (or who) so there is no reasoning with him. Besides, it might be a little satisfying that he would care enough to be jealous.

I love you, he thinks, and wonders if Aidan might just love him back. He would hate to be presumptuous, but the prospect makes him happy. Hesitantly, he tilts his head up and gently kisses Aidan's cheek. He will never know, but it is alright. As long as he is allowed to love Aidan in these quiet, covert ways, maybe the fact that they are unrequited will be more bearable.

He falls asleep soon after, and when he wakes, so is Aidan. The Hunter is staring up at the ceiling, and he seems thoughtful, almost troubled. Ellis pulls away with a murmured apology and then smiles. "Good morning, by the way."


The second thing Ellis notices is the lack of coffee and breakfast on the desk. "You are not hungry? You should still eat." He sits up, stretching, and goes to put his uniform on. Aidan smirks.

"Yes, mum, I'll be sure to do that." It's not that he's not hungry; he's starving. He just didn't want to get out of bed. It was like his mind wanted (or thought it wanted) one thing, and his muscles wouldn't respond. Aidan also gets out of bed and dresses, and quickly escorts Ellis back to the cathedral. For some reason this time, he wonders if he is supposed to kiss Ellis goodbye. He abruptly drops the idea, mutters a gruff 'bye' and heads back to the barracks with his hands in his pockets. Breakfast goes by too quickly, and everything tastes bland on his tongue. He goes back to his room and lies face down on his bed. When did it get like this? The pillow on the outside of the bed smells like Ellis. The priest uses a slightly floral scented soap and shampoo and conditioner, something Aidan began to notice once he started bringing things like that to the barracks because he spends enough time there. It's a nice smell, clean and soft, like Ell. In some ways, it is familiar and comforting, but in others, it is alarming because he has gotten so used to it. His fingertips run along the imprint Ellis has made in his bed, the wrinkles in his sheets, the spot that he always lies, side facing Aidan, face pressed into the pillow until he gets little lines in his cheek. God, this is sick. He shouldn't be thinking these things. He should ignore them, and get rid of the person who is bringing them up. Problem is, he doesn't know if he could. It's not that he hasn't considered it, because he has. Ellis is both so damn good for him, and really fucking bad. That ridiculous little priest can make him laugh, and smile, and sometimes even cry, and he feels a lot more human whenever Ellis is around. He had sworn to protect Ell until he could protect himself, but somewhere along the line, it became a mutual thing.

Aidan tries to close his eyes and will himself to go to that cathedral and find Ellis. His warm hazel eyes would light up like they always do, and he'd smile, all sweetness and adoration, and Aidan would tell him, point blank: "I don't want to see you after this." He'd try to say it bluntly, he really would, because that's how it has to be. He can't sugarcoat these things, especially not for Ellis. Then the priest's face would crumple and it would be obvious that he's trying not to cry because he's shit at hiding his emotions, and then God damn it, Aidan can't just let it go like that, so he might find he's doing something stupid like apologizing or saying it's not Ellis's fault even though it kinda is, and it would make an atrocious mess of things. Ellis would break, because even if he doesn't feel anything for Aidan, he trusts Aidan for whatever reason and he's started to think of the Hunter as a friend, of all things. A friend! He just brushes it off when anyone else insults him or is cruel, but then whenever Aidan says something, there comes the fucking injured look where he looks down at his feet like a puppy that's been kicked, tail between his legs, and then looks back up at Aidan with such sorrowful, wounded eyes, and fuck, but Aidan doesn't know what the hell he's supposed to do with that, but he knows that if he said those things to the priest this time, it wouldn't be that look. It would be something cold and dead, and he just can't live with that.

Why not? It used to be so easy. He never used to care.

Inexplicably, he finds himself being drawn again to the cathedral, and the only time he ever prays is in bad situations where he doesn't think he's going to make it and he's desperate for just one more minute, but he can take joy out of Ellis whimpering beneath him, his spine arched, moaning to a God neither of them believe in. When they both finish, Aidan sees Ell's careful self-control fade for a moment when they are lying on their backs to catch their breath. Ellis reaches down and squeezes Aidan's hand as he twists himself around to kiss Aidan, a lot softer than he usually does.

Aidan's mistake is in kissing him back, and then it really sinks in.

You're falling in way too deep, he thinks, but it's too late. He's already hit rock bottom.