Fic Drive Story: Say Nothing

[aisalynn]

Title: Say Nothing
Author: Aisalynn
Fandom: Jumper
Pairings: David/Griffin
Rating: Adult 

“This is the only time,” he’d said, breath coming in short, harsh puffs, blue eyes fixed on the ceiling. He shifted his gaze to the side, a quick, darting glance before flickering away, avoiding, hiding. But Griffin didn’t need to see his eyes to know what they held: a strange mixture of want, astonishment, fear and guilt, didn’t need to hear his thought’s to know what was in them.

What have I done?

What would Millie think?

Not that Griffin had given a damn about what the girl thought. He could still feel the sting on his skin, sharp lines of red pain crisscrossing along his back and arms, where fingernails had dragged and scraped, was still dizzy from the rush of adrenalin running through his body, could feel it in his blood, pumping through his veins, loud and persistent in his ears, pressing against each blood vessel like he was going to suddenly expand, stretching and stretching until he was nothing but particles, atoms scattered in the air.

It was a bit like jumping, actually.

“Really,” he’d said again. The dim light from the generator played across his face, highlighting the bridge of his nose, the cast of a cheekbone, and hiding his eyes and the shape of his mouth in shadow. The light shifted with each gasping breath, catching on blond hair and turning it gold. “This is the only time.”

Griffin had just laughed, careless and maybe just a little bit bitter, and said nothing.

Just like he hadn’t said anything when the “only” time became the first time, when David had jumped back into his lair a few days later, eyes hot and hungry as they sought his. Nor did he say anything the time after that, or the time after that. He never said anything, about Millie or guilt or promises, even when the bruises on his skin from fingers digging hard into his hips became permanent, or when the scrape of the wall against his shoulder blades became familiar, or when muttered words like fuck and god became endearments and can’t stop this and like a drug became sweet nothings.

Tonight, neither of them spoke.

The long stream of curse words that were so often breathed across his skin were not there as they moved, rocking on the bed, arms and legs twisting together and hot breaths puffing against each other’s mouth and throats and shoulders, hot, biting kisses on collar bones and adams apples, hands twisted in the sheets as they jerked and gasped, sweat falling into their eyes, stinging and they didn’t say anything. They didn’t need to. David’s eyes were flat and hard when he jumped in, steeled against something and now Griffin knew what.

They told him: every hitched breath that should have been a moan or a growl, every caress that should have been a grasp, every kiss that should have been a bite… they told him. They screamed the words at him. David’s mouth was still and silent, twisted into a grimace that was not quite pleasure, not quite pain, but his fingertips, as they traced along his skin--lightly and leaving no marks that they were ever there-- whispered to him:

This is the last time, the last time, the last time…

And Griffin said nothing.