emeraldembers (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
emeraldembers) wrote2015-11-24 09:20 pm
emeraldembers) wrote2015-11-24 09:20 pm
Entry tags:
Fic: Different Kinds of Silence (The Evil Within, Joseph/Sebastian, NC17)
Title: Different Kinds of Silence
Fandom: The Evil Within
Pairing: Joseph/Sebastian
Rating: NC17
Word Count: 907
Warnings: PTSD, references to canon-typical violence.
Summary: Sebastian helps Joseph deal with PTSD and Joseph remains the one person Sebastian can trust.
Author's Notes: Pinch hit for Secret Giftee Number 17 of the fuckyeahjoseb TEW Secret Exchange! With many thanks to thenyxmidnight for cheerleading and speed-betaing.
* * *
Joseph had never been much of a gossip, but Sebastian knew the difference between comfortable and uncomfortable silence.
Joseph had been watering the windowsill's plants long enough for Sebastian to finish making coffee for the both of them, and when he set down the mugs and called out Joseph's name without getting a response, the silence in the room felt too sharp for comfort.
Sebastian walked over to Joseph, carefully peeled his fingers away from the empty watering can and set that down too before sliding his hand over Joseph's and squeezing. "Just keep breathing," he said quietly, watching Joseph for a reaction. Joseph's hand had gone cold, his face pale, and Sebastian hated recognising this; he'd been too young to help back then, but as a child he'd watched his mother help his father through moments like this one, born of the war wounds that didn't show on skin.
Slowly, Sebastian moved to stand between Joseph and the window, sheltering him from the outside world, and when Joseph leaned into him and pressed his face to Sebastian's shoulder, Sebastian let him. "Keep breathing," he repeated, and Joseph's short, tight breaths released on a loud and broken sob, Joseph's hands grabbing at Sebastian's back, clawing into it.
"Can't, I can't," Joseph said, begged, and Sebastian wrapped his own arms around Joseph's shoulders to keep him warm and close.
"Yes, you can," Sebastian insisted, and held him tighter still. "I've got you."
He almost hadn't. Every time Sebastian walked into work and saw Joseph he remembered that, and it was part of why he had started finding excuses to come over to visit Joseph; he'd lied about losing his keys, having the flat fumigated, wanting to hide from a visiting relative, and Joseph hadn't really questioned any of the excuses.
Spending a few hours apart was enough to make Sebastian's stomach lurch in memory of how close he'd come to losing Joseph. He could still remember desperately trying to heal the wounds tearing Joseph apart, the horror of mutations bubbling to the surface whenever Joseph started losing the fight for his mind.
Seeing Joseph in person was the only way Sebastian could believe, really and truly believe, that Joseph was still real, still alive, and still Joseph.
Their coffees had long gone cold by the time Joseph let go, allowing Sebastian to close the windows before guiding him through to the bedroom. Stimulants were a bad idea after an attack like that, and Sebastian kicked off his shoes before crawling under the covers and waiting for Joseph to join him.
Joseph took his time peeling off his vest, tie, and shoes, and Sebastian did nothing to rush him. Joseph needed time to calm down after these attacks, needed patience and quiet, and even if he hadn't needed those his hands were clumsy, shaky from the anxiety still present in his every movement.
"Thanks. Again," Joseph said, angry at himself but too tired to really feel it, and Sebastian shrugged, wrapped his arm around Joseph's waist as Joseph climbed in under the duvet.
They weren't likely to get a lot of sleep with it being a Sunday afternoon, but Joseph's bed was snug and cosy enough that at least they could try. Standing at the kitchen window, Joseph had felt too cold to be healthy, but while chest to chest with Sebastian and close to fully dressed under the duvet he was rapidly warming up, and Sebastian had always run hot.
They were safe if they slept here. Safe enough for Joseph to keep a gun in his dressing table rather than his hands.
Sebastian woke up to Joseph's lips on his cheek, opened his eyes to find Joseph looking at him without apology or embarrassment.
He fisted a hand in Joseph's hair, corrected his aim, and kissed him back.
They still had each other. Against all odds, after all their losses - family and friends and health - they still had each other.
Sebastian found only one scar under Joseph's shirt, the leftovers of having his appendix removed. No entry or exit wounds from bullets, no jagged cuts, no burns. Joseph had been both lucky and careful; years of drinking on the force had left Sebastian with a fair share of scars he could have avoided.
No scars beneath Joseph's trousers, either.
He undressed Joseph slowly, not wanting to rush now that he had permission to look, and then Joseph rolled Sebastian onto his back and took his turn, long fingers peeling away the few layers Sebastian wore and exploring Sebastian's skin with confidence.
Joseph had always been beautiful. Sebastian wondered how much of that was because he knew it.
Later, Sebastian would remember how Joseph's breath had hitched as he took in Sebastian's cock. He would remember how Joseph's neck looked when stretched out as he strained for breath. He would remember how Joseph's thighs trembled when he came, and how Joseph had let Sebastian keep fucking him afterwards, even helped coax Sebastian to orgasm with scratches up and down his chest and kisses that alternated between sweet and biting.
Before then, Sebastian simply lay at Joseph's side and thanked God he still had one person he could trust.
Joseph stroked a hand through Sebastian's hair, not saying a word, because there was no need for it.
Sebastian knew the difference between comfortable and uncomfortable silence.
Joseph was the only person left who could give him both.
Fandom: The Evil Within
Pairing: Joseph/Sebastian
Rating: NC17
Word Count: 907
Warnings: PTSD, references to canon-typical violence.
Summary: Sebastian helps Joseph deal with PTSD and Joseph remains the one person Sebastian can trust.
Author's Notes: Pinch hit for Secret Giftee Number 17 of the fuckyeahjoseb TEW Secret Exchange! With many thanks to thenyxmidnight for cheerleading and speed-betaing.
* * *
Joseph had never been much of a gossip, but Sebastian knew the difference between comfortable and uncomfortable silence.
Joseph had been watering the windowsill's plants long enough for Sebastian to finish making coffee for the both of them, and when he set down the mugs and called out Joseph's name without getting a response, the silence in the room felt too sharp for comfort.
Sebastian walked over to Joseph, carefully peeled his fingers away from the empty watering can and set that down too before sliding his hand over Joseph's and squeezing. "Just keep breathing," he said quietly, watching Joseph for a reaction. Joseph's hand had gone cold, his face pale, and Sebastian hated recognising this; he'd been too young to help back then, but as a child he'd watched his mother help his father through moments like this one, born of the war wounds that didn't show on skin.
Slowly, Sebastian moved to stand between Joseph and the window, sheltering him from the outside world, and when Joseph leaned into him and pressed his face to Sebastian's shoulder, Sebastian let him. "Keep breathing," he repeated, and Joseph's short, tight breaths released on a loud and broken sob, Joseph's hands grabbing at Sebastian's back, clawing into it.
"Can't, I can't," Joseph said, begged, and Sebastian wrapped his own arms around Joseph's shoulders to keep him warm and close.
"Yes, you can," Sebastian insisted, and held him tighter still. "I've got you."
He almost hadn't. Every time Sebastian walked into work and saw Joseph he remembered that, and it was part of why he had started finding excuses to come over to visit Joseph; he'd lied about losing his keys, having the flat fumigated, wanting to hide from a visiting relative, and Joseph hadn't really questioned any of the excuses.
Spending a few hours apart was enough to make Sebastian's stomach lurch in memory of how close he'd come to losing Joseph. He could still remember desperately trying to heal the wounds tearing Joseph apart, the horror of mutations bubbling to the surface whenever Joseph started losing the fight for his mind.
Seeing Joseph in person was the only way Sebastian could believe, really and truly believe, that Joseph was still real, still alive, and still Joseph.
Their coffees had long gone cold by the time Joseph let go, allowing Sebastian to close the windows before guiding him through to the bedroom. Stimulants were a bad idea after an attack like that, and Sebastian kicked off his shoes before crawling under the covers and waiting for Joseph to join him.
Joseph took his time peeling off his vest, tie, and shoes, and Sebastian did nothing to rush him. Joseph needed time to calm down after these attacks, needed patience and quiet, and even if he hadn't needed those his hands were clumsy, shaky from the anxiety still present in his every movement.
"Thanks. Again," Joseph said, angry at himself but too tired to really feel it, and Sebastian shrugged, wrapped his arm around Joseph's waist as Joseph climbed in under the duvet.
They weren't likely to get a lot of sleep with it being a Sunday afternoon, but Joseph's bed was snug and cosy enough that at least they could try. Standing at the kitchen window, Joseph had felt too cold to be healthy, but while chest to chest with Sebastian and close to fully dressed under the duvet he was rapidly warming up, and Sebastian had always run hot.
They were safe if they slept here. Safe enough for Joseph to keep a gun in his dressing table rather than his hands.
Sebastian woke up to Joseph's lips on his cheek, opened his eyes to find Joseph looking at him without apology or embarrassment.
He fisted a hand in Joseph's hair, corrected his aim, and kissed him back.
They still had each other. Against all odds, after all their losses - family and friends and health - they still had each other.
Sebastian found only one scar under Joseph's shirt, the leftovers of having his appendix removed. No entry or exit wounds from bullets, no jagged cuts, no burns. Joseph had been both lucky and careful; years of drinking on the force had left Sebastian with a fair share of scars he could have avoided.
No scars beneath Joseph's trousers, either.
He undressed Joseph slowly, not wanting to rush now that he had permission to look, and then Joseph rolled Sebastian onto his back and took his turn, long fingers peeling away the few layers Sebastian wore and exploring Sebastian's skin with confidence.
Joseph had always been beautiful. Sebastian wondered how much of that was because he knew it.
Later, Sebastian would remember how Joseph's breath had hitched as he took in Sebastian's cock. He would remember how Joseph's neck looked when stretched out as he strained for breath. He would remember how Joseph's thighs trembled when he came, and how Joseph had let Sebastian keep fucking him afterwards, even helped coax Sebastian to orgasm with scratches up and down his chest and kisses that alternated between sweet and biting.
Before then, Sebastian simply lay at Joseph's side and thanked God he still had one person he could trust.
Joseph stroked a hand through Sebastian's hair, not saying a word, because there was no need for it.
Sebastian knew the difference between comfortable and uncomfortable silence.
Joseph was the only person left who could give him both.