Work Text:
Clyde was humming as he typed up his report. He finished it, printed it, and sat back in his chair to wait for it to print.
“...someone’s happy. Do you have a hot date?”
He arched an eyebrow, looking up at where Emily folded her arms on the top of his temporary cubicle and was looking down at him with a grin. “There are rules against coworker fraternisation, darling.” he said sternly.
She snorted, completely unimpressed. “Tsia is driving me home after work, darling.” she said dryly. “neither of us have the parts for the other person.”
“I have had sex with women.” he pointed out, grabbing his report. “And I enjoyed it.”
“Clyde. The amount of self-gaslighting that you engage in on a daily basis in order to do your job…” she shook her head.
He chuckled at her dramatic accusation, and thought about telling her to worry about her night with her own lover and leave him alone. He didn’t really have any reason to keep it from her however – and she would find out anyway even if he managed to distract her for the moment. That being said...no one said he had to make it easy. “Unless I plan to take up a side job of prostitution, I have no intention of sleeping with a woman tonight.” he conceded.
She shook her head at him again. “therapy, Clyde. So much therapy.”
“You first.” he stapled his papers together. “have you written your report?”
“Mm. You still haven’t answered my question. Who are you meeting with tonight?”
“A glass of red wine and a steak.” He met her eyes.
“Oh. Your lying has gotten out of practise….”
“you and Tsia could use remedial lessons.”
“Stop deflecting. Who are you seeing? is...Is it that lawyer?”
He pointedly did not look away, but he knew it didn’t work when her eyes widened.
“It is! Oh, is he good?”
he sighed.
“You need to get laid.” she said firmly. “You look like you are trying out for Mr. Universe all of the time, and while I’m sure some people appreciate it – I just get sore in sympathy.”
He decided he could not address that and keep the little dignity he still had in front of his team. “He is very good.” he admitted, feeling himself soften at the thought.
Being the excellent agent she was, Emily picked up on that change. “...oh. Oh Clyde… Is he...good?” She moved around the cubicle wall to stand beside him, serious.
He looked at her, still surprised after all this time. “I – yes. Yes, he is good.”
she narrowed her eyes. “He gives as much as he takes? You aren’t doing all of the work?”
“Usually he ties me down, so I don’t do any work.” he retorted before he could think better of it.
“Ties-”
he groaned. “Em. Please. I doubt you want a play by play report on what he does to me in bed, but please rest easy knowing he is the best lover, and most considerate partner I have ever been with.”
She studied him, and relaxed slowly. “good. Because if he hurts you…”
“I know, I know, darling – you know how to hide a body.” he looked up at her in fond amusement.
She smiled. “There won’t be a body to hide.”
Crowley had already been staying in a hotel, and to save the money – and the inevitable argument over who was paying – Clyde agreed to meet him there. He grabbed his go bag from under his desk, turned off his phone, and took a cab to the hotel.
Crowley was waiting for him in the lobby, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows.
He swallowed and looked him over appreciatively. “Hello, darling.”
Crowley met his eyes, and his gaze darkened. He smiled slowly, and his eyes lingered over Clyde’s body.
He felt himself flush with arousal, and pleasure that he was attractive even in his plaid shirt and jeans.
“Dressing down today?”
“I couldn’t fit a shower in between my reports and debriefs,” he said half in jest and half serious. “I thought we could...remedy that.”
“you did, did you.”
he smirked. “I did.”
Crowley met his gaze again, and Clyde shivered. “...i suppose we can. I’ve arranged for dinner to be sent to our room.”
he couldn’t help brightening at the thought of food.
He narrowed his eyes at that. “I do hope you haven’t eaten.”
“of course I ate…” he tried to remember what he had eaten that day, and then decided to lie. “Today.”
“Mmm. Come on – you can dump that monstrosity in our room.” he started out of the foyer down the nearby hallway.
He followed, rolling his eyes. “It is practical.”
“Your clothes are wrinkled.”
“My clothes are machine washable.” he retorted.
“Ah. Yes. It’s a good thing your bad taste hides such a good body.”
He swallowed hard, and nearly ran into Crowley as they stopped in front of his door.
Suddenly, something exploded, and Clyde didn’t even think before dropping his bag and throwing himself at Crowley, pulling them both to the ground and curling himself over him.
He was too hot, and everything smelled like gunpowder.
Another explosion went off and he steeled himself.
He could hear gunshots now, could feel the bugs crawling over the back of his neck with his sweat.
His breath was rasping in his ears, sounding like a freight train that did nothing to drown out the third explosion.
He was losing blood fast, his vision greying out. His leg was screaming at him in pain, and more pain lanced through his side. He hissed, pressing at the wound in his leg and screaming through gritted teeth as he tried to apply enough pressure to not bleed out.
Someone moved under him and he cursed. He reached for the combat knife in his belt to stab whoever he had pinned, but the knife wasn’t there anymore. He reached for his gun – either of them – and felt the breath knock out of him as he couldn’t find them either. He had lost his weapons – all of them – and he was defenseless now.
A fourth explosion, and a fifth.
“Clyde!”
Someone slapped him hard in the face, and he scrambled back.
He was breathing heavily, and he could feel the hotel carpet under his hands as he crawled back on the floor until his back slammed into the wall. He stared ahead of him, still feeling the lightheadedness of bloodloss and the pain in his leg from the gaping hole.
“Clyde.” The voice was softer now, and his eyes jerked to meet Crowley’s.
“You’re safe, Clyde. You are in Atlantic City, nothing has happened. We are in a hotel, no one is here. You are safe. No one is going to hurt you.”
He wanted to scream, wanted to point out that was always a lie; but he just pulled his knees to his chest.
Another explosion, and he had lost track of them.
“The...fireworks?” Crowley guessed.
He flinched as another one went off, and felt his eyes burn with tears.
“They’re just fireworks.” he promised, settling on his knees and not making a move to come closer. “Just fireworks from the casino. Nothing is wrong. You are safe.”
He didn’t sound angry, didn’t sound disgusted. He should be – Clyde was a grown man, a trained spy. He shouldn’t be curled up on the floor crying.
And he was crying – sobbing really. He was silent, trained not to make noise, but he couldn’t breathe and he shook with each desperate inhal, and he was pathetic and-
he flinched back as Crowley finally moved closer, watching him with something that felt like fear.
“May I touch you, Clyde?”
The fear turned into confusion.
“I want to move you into our room.” he explained. “It will be quieter in there, I can put on some music, you can take a shower…”
He blinked in understanding and nodded. Right. Yes. The plan. After getting Crowley aroused, it wouldn’t be fair to leave him hanging – he gasped as Crowley just picked him up off the floor. “What – I can-”
“I know. But you don’t have to. I could use the excersise – my mother says I’ve gained weight.”
he stared at Crowley, confused.
Crowley set him on the bed and then went to close the blinds and start some music playing on the radio.
He flinched as another explosion went off, and Crowley turned the music up. He watched him, and wiped his face off. He pulled his shirt off, rubbing the scar on his side for a moment before standing to slide his jeans off.
Crowley glanced at him, and then disappeared into the bathroom.
He heard the shower start and took a steadying breath. He wiped his eyes again and said this was a good distraction. Crowley fucking him always turned off his brain for a while, and not thinking about how disgustingly pathetic he had to have looked sounded like a wonderful idea. Maybe if he did everything right, and apologised with his body the best he could – maybe Crowley wouldn’t tell him to stop calling him.
He took another breath and dug his nails into his wrist, telling himself to get it together. He sauntered into the bathroom and leaned against the doorframe. He stretched as seductively as he could, looking for his partner. He frowned slightly when Crowley stepped out of the walk-in shower still fully clothed.
Knowing what he had to do, he straightened from the wall and walked over to meet Crowley. Meeting his eyes, he sank to his knees as gracefully as he could with the pain still screaming in his leg, and reached for Crowley’s fly.
“...what the hell are you doing?”
He flinched, freezing in place.
Crowley looked disgusted, and Clyde knew this was over. He knew he wasn’t handsome enough or good enough to keep him after that incident and-
“Please. Let me make it up to you.” he purred, reaching for his fly again.
Crowley grabbed his wrist tightly. He took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Clyde. We aren’t doing this. Not now. Not-”
He didn’t hear the rest of what he said, lost in hate and disgust and sorrow and fear and the screaming in his head that he had done it again, that he had fucked up again, and he was never good enough was he? No one wanted him, not when they got to know him and-
He was shaking again, the tears running down his face and he clung to Crowley’s hand with both of his. “Please. Please don’t. Not...i – I’ll do anything. I can’t – please. Let me make it up to you. However you want. Punish me for messing up, spank me, whatever you want – I deserve it! I deserve it. Please, I...punish me. I need it.” he begged, knowing deep down he wasn’t making a single thing better.
Crowley’s voice was laced with anger when he interrupted. “Clyde Easter. Get-” he cut himself off, and then firmly pulled Clyde to his feet. When he spoke again, it was in a softer if still exasperated tone. “Clyde. I am not going to fuck you when you just had a flashback. I don’t know what arseholes you’ve hooked up with before, but I’m also not going to punish you because you deserve it. I’m not your damn parent. God damn – just get in the shower. Just...I need a moment.” he muttered, walking away.
He stood there in the middle of the bathroom for a while, staring blindly at the wall before he stepped into the hot water Crowley had turned on and letting the water wash away his tears.
Crowley was waiting for him when he stepped out of the shower, and he tucked his head down in shame when he saw him. He tensed up, waiting for the yelling to start again, the anger to pour out; and instead blinked as Crowley pressed silk pyjamas into his hands.
“let’s get you dried off, pet.”
He blinked at the clothes in his hands and felt Crowley wrap a large soft towel around him. After a moment, he started trying to help – to take the towel and take over. “You – you can leave. I…”
“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.”
he looked at him in confusion as Crowley dried his legs. “you don’t – you can still fuck me. You don’t...you don’t have to be nice.”
“I’m not going to fuck you, sleep with you, or cum at all tonight, Clyde.”
He flinched as Crowley straightened up.
“I’m not going anywhere.” he repeated, before taking the pyjamas and unfolding them. He handed the trousers to Clyde. “Put these on.”
He was still confused, but he obeyed, taking the shirt next and sliding it on. He gasped at the soft feeling of the silky fabric next to his skin and smoothed it under his hands.
Crowley wrapped an arm around him, gently steering him out of the bathroom.
He let him lead him across the room and settle him in bed and get him covered with the duvet. He steeled himself for the fondling and kissing to start but...Crowley just walked away. He watched him go to the room service cart and come back with a tray of food and he thought he understood now what was happening: food and then sex.
“No sex.” Crowley said firmly, sitting on the bed beside Clyde and wrapping an arm around him in a gesture that wouldn’t look risque in a G-rated film.
He took a few bites of food, swallowing them over the lump in his throat. “...I can – this won’t last. I’ll be better tomorrow. Please-”
Crowley reached over and took his chin, gently turning him to face him. “Clyde. I am not leaving you. Not tonight, not tomorrow, not soon. We will have sex again, when you want it. And when you really want it, not because you think I’m going to leave you if I can’t fuck you every time I see you. Normally yes, I want to fuck you every time I see you, but only because you want to fuck me every time you see me.” he smiled a little. “Normally, when I talk like that, you get rock hard.” he stroked his cheek. “Not now, pet. You don’t want it, so I don’t. I’m not going to rape you.”
“You can’t rape me. We’re a couple.” he said seriously, softly.
Crowley took a deep breath and let it out, before continuing in the same calm gentle tone he had been using. “You will not win that argument, Clyde. If you are not enthusiastically into what we are doing, it’s rape.”
“But you...you don’t always ask-”
“I don’t because I know you now. When we started, we had safewords. We still do now,” he amended. “But now I know you. I can read you pretty well once I get you worked up. I know when and what you are into.”
He was leaning into his hand, hanging on every word.
“Clyde. I am not going anywhere.”
He swallowed and tried not to cry again.
“So start with the food, and drink plenty of water, and then we will go to sleep. I will be here all night, holding you, keeping you safe, and taking care of you.”
“But...what do you get out of this?” he whispered.
“I enjoy making you happy and cared for, whether that’s subspace or just food and cuddles.”
Clyde sniffed, blinking hard; and nodded. “I...thank you.”
“It is my pleasure, pet.”
clyde was humming as he walked into the airport where he and his team were going to fly out of towards their new mission.
Emily looked up when she heard him, and grinned. She put her mission file aside and leaned forward expectantly. “Look what the cat dragged in.”
“hello, Agent Prentiss.” he sat in the chair opposite her, leaning back and crossing his ankles.
“Did you have a good weekend?”
He smiled softly, thoughtfully. “I had...the best weekend.”
Tsia sat down by Emily and raised an eyebrow. “I’d rather not hear about it, Boss.”
“I want to.”
“Nothing happened after the firework-” he broke off, cursing himself for mentioning that detail.
Both Tsia and Emily were focused on him now, serious.
“clyde, are...what happened?”
He hesitated.
“You look better than you usually do…” Tsia murmured.
He turned red and looked away.
“He had...you had sex with him still?” Emily hissed, and he could practically feel her fury radiating off her.
“No. No we didn’t.” he still sounded surprised even to himself. “We just...he wouldn’t let me.”
She looked surprised too.
Tsia nodded. “He is a good one.”
“He just...took care of me. Put me in bed, fed me…” he sighed contentedly. “wouldn’t do anything to me the whole weekend.” he huffed in faint annoyance.
“Good.” Emily muttered, and Tsia elbowed her.
“He wants to meet again.”
Emily rolled her eyes. “Of course he does – you’re the best.”
Tsia was looking around for the rest of their team, done with the conversation; and Clyde smirked.
“So how was your weekend, darling?”
She grinned back. “Decidedly less g-rated.”
Tsia gasped, and elbowed her again as she turned bright pink; and Clyde laughed, loud and happy.