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14 November 2007 @ 04:29 pm
Chapter 3...I think this is coming along too quickly!  
TITLE: Elevation Level 3
RATING: R, possible NC-ish-ness later
PAIRING(S): Any combination of the following: Nicholas Angel, Liam Nash (Deskjob), Kelsey Munsel, Adrian Holbech, Duncan Bathe, Andrew Wainwright [[Note: Some are real, others implied, and most of them are weird....]]
WORDS:
A/N: A concert. A cafe. Some soul-searching between old friends becomes a little bit more, and may even serve to sever ties and build new bridges. What is Nicholas up to? Where did everyone go, and where is Liam going?

More amazing music from Biffy Clyro, Scottish lads that they are:

Biffy Clyro - Now I'm Everyone
Biffy Clyro - Get Fucked Stud

THIS WAY for chapter 1. OVER HERE is chapter 2.



“You know where we’re going,” Nicholas teased, bouncing from foot to foot excitedly as they walked down eerily quiet London streets. It was a Thursday night, people had work the next morning, and besides, it was almost 2AM…Liam checked his Kitana for the third time, considering calling Grace, concerned that she hadn’t answered his text message (it’d been two hours, could she really have gone to sleep?).

“Nicholas, keep it down,” Liam hissed, glancing at the darkened windows around them as if expecting a rebuff from the cold stone for waking their ancient walls.

“Liam, please,” Nicholas sighed, cocking an eyebrow at Liam and tilting his head as he slowed to a walk. “If any of these people were to still be awake and bothered by me, it would be a simple case of informing them we’re plain-clothes neighborhood watch, and that they would be best to return to their homes before they obstructed the safety of their neighbors and themselves any further.”

Liam stopped in his tracks, his mouth hanging agape; it wasn’t the first time during their walk that Nicholas had flicked that switch, that he’d gone back to his rigid, utilitarian mantra of Protocol, Protocol, Protocol, and it made a shiver run down Liam’s spine. He knew his stuff so well, he was so with-it, so cool and calm and smooth, but always made of ice and silk, never fire, not like now. Somehow, it was his frigidness that made Liam sweat, and being around an energetic version of Nicholas only served to perplex and upset him.

Nicholas started to grin and bounce on his toes again. The illusion, the idea of the man he knew, was broken.

“Come on,” Liam sighed, rolling his eyes as the moment passed, “let’s get you home, before you explode, or something…”

“Exploding is not funny,” Nicholas joked, making Liam’s skin crawl.

The sound of Nicholas’s voice faded into a dull, constant murmur as Liam let it flow over him. What had happened to Nicholas? What had changed him so profoundly? Why was he everything opposite to how he used to be, so uncontrolled, so unrefined, so open and physical and spastic? Was it possible that, maybe, this was a bad episode of Dr. Who or Hyperdrive, and this Nicholas was actually a faulty clone or a robot or an opposite twin from a different universe? It seemed more likely than any rational explanation his brain could concoct, but then again he was a bit distracted by their surroundings; that tree with the maniacal branches was awfully familiar, and didn’t he used to buy coffee there every morning, and weren’t those mailboxes blue sometime in the past…?

“We’re here,” Nicholas called, making Liam whirl around. Nicholas was three yards behind him, standing at a gated doorway, jangling his keys expectantly as he smiled at Liam. “You weren’t actually listening to me, and I wanted to see how far you’d go…Figured I should call you before you wound up in Sandf-…”

He stopped abruptly, his gaze dropping to the sidewalk along with his grin, and as they stood silently in the darkness, Liam realized just how cold the air had become. It took him only three steps to get to Nicholas, his arms encircling Nicholas in what felt like slow motion, sinking against his chest like falling into a warm bath. He didn’t care at first that Nicholas didn’t reach for him, that he stood slumped yet somehow rigid, simply accepting his presence, as he tried to ignore the scent of bad musty, sweaty clothes and marijuana. Liam turned his head away from Nicholas’s chest, looking away toward the building, and after blinking heavily against clouded memories and sleep-crowded confusion, he leapt away from Nicholas and into the road, nearly falling on his ass in shock.

“Nicholas, this-!” Liam said, a frenzied look on his face as he glanced rapidly from Nicholas to the building, unable to even register anger at Nicholas as his friend doubled-over with laughter, his face turning bright red. Liam ran back to Nicholas’s side, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him; “It is, isn’t it?”

“Well, yeah,” Nicholas managed to reply, yanking open the door and effortlessly pulling Liam along behind him. “Terrese was looking for the last six months for a lessee, and she chopped the price for me and Andrew-”

“You’re sharing?” Liam almost yelled as they mounted the stairs, rushing up the two stairs of personal space he’d allowed Nicholas to really push the matter (was it really his place to push, though?). “You’re not-?”

Nicholas didn’t wait for Liam to ask, grabbing the back of Liam’s neck and yanking his head upward, crushing their lips together and sliding his mouth upward so that Liam had no choice but to allow Nicholas’s tongue to slide against his. He felt another hand on his belt, yanking him bodily forward, as Nicholas stepped down into him, their teeth clicking together as Nicholas turned his head and sucked hard on Liam’s tongue, pressing their bodies together, pressing Liam’s resolve and patience (I’m married, married, I have a fucking kid, what the hell am I-?).

“I’m not,” Nicholas growled, his tone and forcefulness and spirit so much like the man he once shared an office with that Liam felt transported back in time. Nicholas stared at him for a moment, squinting his eyes, pursing his lips, watching Liam’s face relax and his mouth shut; he’d been mouth-breathing for several seconds now, which wasn’t unusual for him when he lost his breath.

They both admitted silently, one confusedly forlorn and the other sardonically smug, that Nicholas still had it.

They stepped apart, one down and the other up, Nicholas’s hand reaching for Liam’s and pulling him back toward him, leading him on. There were three flights of stairs that Liam was only vaguely aware of, the passing smell of burnt lasagna and old garbage accompanied by the sound of a crying child and a muffled TV barely serving to color his surroundings as his memories overlapped the present. How many times had he climbed these steps? How many nights had he fought the crazed woman downstairs, running in fear of her hair curlers and whiffle bat, trying to make her see reason? How many mornings had he battled the man on the first floor for the paper before forcing Kels to get him on petty theft charges? How many weekends had he spent here, with Nicholas, what seemed like so many ages ago?

The door looked just as it had, scratched and re-painted so many times it didn’t really have a color anymore. The front hall was just as narrow and dimly lit as ever, and the rooms, the kitchenette and living room and claustrophobic bathroom were just as meticulously maintained and unsettlingly Spartan as when he’d lived there years ago.

He paused in the short nook that barely qualified as a hall, which the doors to both bedrooms opened into, and looked first left and then right. This was different, and for all the similarities, it stuck out even more; Nicholas’s bedroom, his bedroom, their bedroom was on the right, and the spare room had always been left open, but now the empty room was closed and locked, a leather belt wrapped around the doorknob, peaking Liam’s curiosity as well as his discomfort.

“Best not to disturb him,” Nicholas spoke quietly against his ear, coming up silently behind him and pulling Liam’s back flush to his chest. His hands moved across Liam’s stomach and chest in broad, lazy circles, lowering his face to Liam’s neck for an instant to kiss a trail from his collar to his ear, murmuring, “He’s got company with him, too.”

Liam gasped as he felt teeth in his neck, lips pressing against sore muscle, a firm body pressing and coaxing him from behind into the open doorway on the right. He turned as he stumbled into the room, steadying himself on a nightstand he expected to be there, seeing a look on Nicholas’s face he’d expected as well. His brain and body were doing all the things he should and shouldn’t do, that he could and couldn’t do, wanting Nicholas so badly his whole being ached an intense agony that made his knees weak, while at the same time angered and repulsed by his mercury, this newness that had nothing to do with the man he’d shared this room and this life with years before.

He knew as he tumbled onto the bed, Nicholas yanking off his shirt and scrambling on top of him, that this was not the sort of thing that he would do, that Nicholas would do, that the two of them should be doing. Even as Nicholas helped Liam get his shirt off, pulling him to a sit and pressing their chests together as their mouths tangled in ragged gasps, Liam knew this wasn’t what he wanted, no matter what his balls might be begging for.

So when Nicholas applied his full weight, getting Liam on his back again, Liam decided to take the opportunity to let Nicholas know what was what: He squeezed him hard at the waist, feathering his fingers along Nicholas’s spine and down his sides until Nicholas broke away, bucking and begging Liam off.

“Fucker!” Nicholas panted, throwing an arm across his eyes as he collapsed on his back. “Using my natural weaknesses-”

“It’s not my fault you’re as ticklish as a little girl,” Liam grumbled, feeling morbidly torn as he sat up and got a good look at his half-naked friend. His fingers twitched but didn’t move to touch, scolding himself for wanting to, scolding Nicholas for losing interest so quickly (that never used to happen…).

“What’re you tickling little children for?” Nicholas scoffed, rolling on his side to look at Liam and freezing as he sat up, his smile fading. His eyes were not as dull as before, his body was slowing down, and he furrowed his brow as he drew his tongue along the inside of his mouth, looking befuddled. He nearly scowled at Liam for a moment, asking softly, “Liam, are you alright?”

“Am I alright?” Liam snorted, raising his eyebrows and giving Nicholas an ‘I’m fucking your life up’ sort of look. “You’re the one bouncing bipolar all of a sudden, mate. One second you’re giggling and twitching, the next you’re face-down in the mud; you get all worked up and then you crash out of it, you…You’re fucked on something, God only knows, at least pot, I know that, and…And you tell me, you tell me you’re coming back to the Met, you’re as good as my boss now, and you…You show up out of the blue and start…You just…Y-y-you‘re not the Nicholas I remember, you‘re not…not Nicky…”

Liam stopped looking at Nicholas half way through, fiddling with the sheets and working out the growing storm in his head, bit by bit finding it to be more unnavigable than he’d imagined. Nicholas’s hand closed over his, pulling him back to him, trying to offer comfort, but Liam twisted away and looked across the room toward the black-out curtains and armoire. No pictures, no decorations, just blank and emotionless. This was Nicholas’s room, but Nicholas wasn’t in it.

“What happened?” Liam said, his voice cracking as he spoke, inhaling through his mouth as tears threatened his eyes. He didn’t turn or fight when Nicholas came up behind him, spreading his legs so Liam rested between them, his back once more to Nicholas’s chest. Liam craned his neck as far as he could, looking over his shoulder and furrowing his brow, his emotions overpowering his rationality as he caught a glimpse once more of Nicholas, his Nicholas, Nicky-

“Liam,” Nicholas breathed, his eyes searching Liam’s face as he pulled him in closer, “I…I can’t…I don’t want to talk about that now, please.”

They lay back, Nicholas carefully wiping stray tears from Liam’s cheeks, kissing his face, his neck, his chest, letting his hands caress and warm his body, going slow. As they embraced, their bodies took over, Liam’s tears falling ever more slowly, hearts beating faster and faster, acutely aware of how long it had been since they’d last made love. There was no more reserve on either side, just a need to find what had been so good so long ago, the better years of their lives, a happiness they’d both lost.

“I just want you,” Nicholas whispered, kissing Liam’s jaw as his body rocked, his lover shuddering beneath him. He bit his lower lip and closed his eyes for a moment as Liam nodded, acknowledge and consent, breathless and beautiful, feeling the need to dive on Liam‘s neck and mark him as hard and fast as he could. Liam yelped and begged as Nicholas‘s jaws worked, finally released, leering down at Liam as his mouth hung agape for a moment, trying to catch his breath.

“Stay with me, Liam.”



Biffy Clyro - Living is a Problem Because Everything Dies
Biffy Clyro - Folding Stars
 
 
Current Mood: highhigh
 
 
 
mikes_grrl on November 14th, 2007 11:05 pm (UTC)
*goggled*

WTF????

I am transfixed in horror, and curiosity, and in the hawtness of an INSANE Nicholas Angel.

What. The. FUCK??????

Your plotline is like damn japanese rope bondage: clever, amazing, breathless, and pure, loving torture. Really.
lacking in glitter: subtexttawg on November 15th, 2007 04:32 am (UTC)
I second the OMGNicholasWhat? comment. And also, I wonder how much trouble that love bite is going to get Martin into...

By the way, the 'I'm fucking your life up' look made me snort.