suicidemission | ic contact

If you’d talk to him, they wouldn’t be in separate beds, Raleigh.

Get him propped up and as comfortable as he can be, and he’ll make grabby hands at Raleigh. Cmere. This is the most contact they’ve had in ages. Cmeeeeere.

Raleigh knows he should go make a heat pack and get some pain killers and.. a million other things (and excuses to keep his distance) but Chuck looks so hurt and busted up that he's moving without really thinking.

He looks hesitant for a moment before wilting a little and giving in; silent as he takes off his boots and coat before sliding into bed next to him.

He’s a kicked puppy, Raleigh. Don’t kick him and leave him while he’s down.

Chuck will press against Raleigh as best he can, exhaling slowly as he closes his eyes. He hasn’t slept well at all since Raleigh decided to be pissy.

“C’mere,” he murmurs, reaching to drag a hand down his arm.

Well. He's mad and hurt but he isn't a monster- moving in a little closer and draping his arm low over Chuck's hips to avoid his ribs.

"I'm here," quiet, having missed his opportunity to run.

His heart hurts, tags jingling under his shift as he moves, a bitter reminder of what feels like betrayal.

“Are you?”

Because it hasn’t felt like it lately. It’s felt like aching and longing and skin starvation. He needs you. Don’t drop him. You’re close.

He's laying here isn't he. Raleigh exhales, fighting the urge to be annoyed, knowing full well they're now talking on parallels.

But there's something in the air that makes their contact so soothing. It is anyway, but more than usual. Maybe it's the hurt. Maybe it's something else.

So maybe they should talk about it.

"You heard from Neal lately?"

Now it's Chuck fighting the urge to be annoyed, but they need to talk about this and they're actually touching and it feels to good for Chuck to ruin it.

"No. Have you?"

"No."

But there you go. That's what's eating him so bad.

"I'm surprised. You two seemed so close."

He could kill you. That's why you've been pushing him away? God you dick.

"Raaay," he groans, shifting a little so he can get a better look at Raleigh. "Is that why you've been making me sleep in the spare?"

"Well I dunno, Chuck, I thought we were something and come home to find you in Neal Caffrey's arms what the hell am I supposed to think."

So. Yes. Glaringly.

"I dunno, maybe ask me? Talk about it? Because fuck if I know; I would never fucking do that on a normal day?" Chuck is not a touchy person with anyone but Raleigh. He doesn't do hugs or cuddles or anything past a normal handshake - especially with a stranger. His behaviour that day weirds him the fuck out, too.

"We are something."

Raleigh looks at him, intense and searching. He hasn't felt much like talking. His temper doesn't allow for it without getting explosive, especially when it really matters to him.

Which is something he needs to work on but he hasn't and the way he's been dealing with it is to walk away. Cool down. Think a little.

"Are we?" Because he isn't so sure anymore.

"You're not beholden to me, if you like him then you like him, but don't screw me around."

"We are," Chuck says, firmly, as he tries not to fucking panic. Breathe, calm down. Don't go ballistic because there's no reason to just yet.

"Ray," he says, reaching to run his fingers through Raleigh's hair, gentle, soft. "I've been gone for you since my balls dropped. I don't give a fuck about Neal."

Now isn't he time to talk about this shit. Chuck is hurt. Raleigh isn't looking for a fight.

But since when has the timing being bad ever stopped him.

And he needs to hear this. He really, really needs to hear this. Crass but honest, Chuck's MO.

Chuck who's touch makes him needy and Raleigh leans into it, those fingers in his hair highlighting the aching loneliness in his chest.

"I just- I keep seeing it. Every time I pass the couch, every time I see you, and it's makeing me crazy."

Crazy, bitter, jealous, ugly.

He gets his fingers nice and deep in Raleighs hair, nails light over his scalp before he gets a good grip of it and makes Raleigh look him in the eye.

"You're a wildly jealous man, Ray," he murmurs. "And I dig it. But I ain't interested in anyone else but you. I'd burn this whole goddamn city for you."

Edited 2021-01-01 16:38 (UTC)

Making* phone why.

Their eyes and locked, focus sharp, tension thick between them. Chuck isn't wrong. He is jealous. He is possessive. Raleigh tried to warn him about it, knowing himself, and here it is.

He doesn't say anything for a moment, really listening to what Chuck is saying. Really watching.

It's honest.

"Okay," finally. The pause had been very pregnant.

"I believe you."

Chuck didn't realize he'd been holding his breath until he lets it out, then hisses in pain. Fuck.

"Good," he says, voice wobbling a little. "Because I mean every damn word. I don't give a fuck about anyone else here beyond you and my old man."

That wobble fuckin' kills him.

And while Raleigh doesn't say it with words, he feels the same way. He doesn't care.

"Careful," he says instead, moving up onto his elbow to lean over Chuck. He'll come to you, stop moving.

And all these things inside him, all his ugly feelings and want and desire and love, he keeps them close to his aching heart. Words and meanings through action as he leans in to brush noses, then lips.

He didn't realize how fucking scared he was to lose Raleigh until this moment. Chuck drops his hand to curl around the back of his neck, fingers pressing against his skin, brushing over hair at the nape of his neck. He sniffles, heart twisting up in his chest as he tips his face.

Kiss him, asshole. Kiss him like you mean it, because Chuck is pouring every inch of himself into it. It's needy, desperate and he realizes with horror he's on the verge of tears.

You're safe. He's got you. Lulled back down from his angry detachment with touch and honest truth.

If Chuck says there's nothing between him and Neal then Raleigh has to believe him. Well. Chooses to. Maybe that's a step of growth for him. Because it's one thing to get attached and like someone but it's quite another to make a commitment and keep it when they hit a rough patch.

Cradling Chuck's cheek with his hand, lips warm and attentive, trying to communicate without having the words for it. He's here.

He doesn't give a shit about Neal. He doesn't even know Neal's last name, he's irrelevant. Raleigh's gotta make the choice to trust him, otherwise they're gonna go through shit like this fairly routinely.

Chuck leans into the kiss, licking at Raleigh's lips with a soft whine. God he's missed this, he's missed you.

So has he. It feels like coming home. God he wants to come home.

It's a little scary, that realisation. Chuck is home.

But progress can be scary, he's said it himself. He was proud of that stranger Mail on the network for taking scary steps towards being a better person. Maybe it time.for Raleigh to step up and be proud of himself, too. Forward steps, no matter how small, are something to be proud of.

So he lets his kiss reflect that, with every breath and soft noise and careful touch. Their lips against each other, lapping and telling a story much greater and more complex.

Are they okay? Can they be okay?

God, he wants nothing more than to be okay. He pours his whole damn heart into that kiss, a shaky hand cupping his face and sliding his fingers into his hair.

He loves you. It's too soon to say those words, but he does. It's in his actions and his kisses and his heart.

Too soon but there's something deep and meaningful between them. Intense and emotional and raw. Something neither of them have ever really been allowed before.

Deerington really is a second chance for them.

"I'm sorry," breathy, when the kiss finally breaks. Not that he thinks he's done anything particularly wrong but.. maybe just sorry in general that this has happened.

It's so new, new and beautiful and special. Chuck is afraid it will shatter but oh God he is so happy and relieved.

You've been a bit of a dick to him, but Chuck forgives him anyway.

"Me too," he murmurs, dropping his hand to cup Raleigh's jaw, thumbing at his skin.

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