Chapter Text
“.. but I want it to be you, to, to be with you.”
The sharpness of Sullivan’s inhale hurt as his lungs, his body, his mind, fail at its autonomic reaction, leaving a burning, exquisite pain from the sudden, aborted movement of air. As his pulse thuds into the unnatural stillness, Sullivan lets that burn ignite his movement into brutal motion. With trained efficiency he spins the younger man away from him, refusing to meet those slate blue eyes that widen further in shock and then pain at the abrupt physical contact and reorientation.
Sullivan’s hold catches one arm behind Cameron’s back pressing him into the door while the other hand wraps around that too slender neck, yanking his face to the side, solidly pinning the slighter body against the surface, hip to head held satisfyingly, unresistingly immobile. Jesus, what was worse the earnest need, and please good let it not have been, hope, that he’d seen in the boy’s gaze as he spoke or the panic Sullivan has just elicited with this fucked up manoeuvre.
“Innocence is a currency Cope and so is blood. And you’ve already given yours to the United States Marine Corps.” Sullivan’s voice husks in an angry, snarled whisper behind Cameron’s ear, breath hot and his body a scorching, solid presence behind him that holds Cameron against the cool painted surface. The combination of sensations is making it hard for Cameron to hear, hard to focus on other man’s words.
Cameron’s neck tenses in Sullivan’s unforgiving grip as he tries to make eye contact over his shoulder, tries to see him, as he tries to listen to what he is saying. Sullivan’s grip does not slacken and pinned as he is, he is left helplessly swivelling his eyes only, desperately trying to reach Sullivan again even as he tries to hold the rest of his body still within his grip.
“If your life and your blood is already the property of the Marine Corps then there is nothing left for you to give me, Cope” he pauses before he continues “You wanted this, you worked and trained to be a Marine and you knew what that meant.”
The pressure of Sullivan’s grip on his neck lessens to be more of a hold and less of a nerve pinching threat as he continues, still only inches from Cameron’s ear but now slightly less furious sounding. “You know what it means to be a Marine. What it costs… men like us.”
Sullivan’s grip softens even further as he speaks and as both the hand at Cameron’s neck and the one holding his arm began to slacken Cameron feels his body jerk slightly backwards in an attempt to follow those hard points of contact. His torso swivels a little to the side in the newly gained space, a small motion giving him just enough movement to see Sullivan again. “It doesn’t have to cost everything” Cameron’s voice firmed as he speaks “it doesn’t have to cost this.”
Sullivan draws back slightly more, his eyes moving from where they had subconsciously lit on Cameron’s mouth, it was a common problem Sullivan had found, much to his fury at his own weakness. That mouth and the things it says were perpetually fraying every ounce of training and restraint that Sullivan possessed. His eyes travel slowly to Cameron’s own and as he draws breath to refute the other man’s idealistic nonsense, slate blue eyes look back into his own as Cameron continues speaking, mouth enunciating carefully. “I want both.”
Cameron watches him back, gaze unwavering as he meets Sullivan’s ice blue stare watching him. Cameron lets the need and fierce wanting that washes through him every time he is in Sullivan’s presence burn to life, fuelled by his own words and the hot, hard planes of the man behind him, closer than he has ever been. As he speaks again he steadies his boots on the floor and turns back towards the door. “You taught me to kill Sullivan, and if I’m going to die sir, then I want this too.”
Sullivan’s grip on Cameron’s neck hardens again fractionally, spasmodically as his mind reals at what Cameron has just said, at the eviscerating amount of trust and responsibility along with a painful desire, that he had forgotten he was even capable of feeling that now slams through his veins with Cameron’s slow careful movement back towards the door. Trusting Sullivan to have his six in this as well as in the practice of becoming a marine. Sullivan draws a slow breath inward as every muscle in his body vibrates to press in closer to Cameron. A magnetic pull forcing him to obey and wrap the man in his arms, to use his mass to hold him against the door and take him apart like he is requesting. Sullivan breathes out and tries to gentle his words and desire at the same time “Cope..”
Cameron twitches slightly at Sullivan’s word and before he can hold in his voice “Cameron or Cam.” The words shoot out from his lips “I want that too… please.” His sentence trails off slightly as Cameron once again begins to feel slightly unsure of himself. As he’d felt when he first approached Sullivan’s door. Sullivan’s furore and his intoxicating presence had burned every inch of that fear away but here in this still moment when he can’t even see Sullivan’s face, can’t even guess at what he is thinking Cameron feels a moment of anxiety that the man behind him might not have him. Might not want this with him.
Sullivan steps forward, his boots aligning with Cameron’s as warmth washes over every inch of Cameron’s body at the feel of Sullivan returning to him, pressing against him. The hand securing his arm lets go, smoothly sliding in front of Cameron to press flat palmed against his chest while the hand at his neck slides up to the base of his skull, fingers holding but caressing also.
“Cam, I’m going to give you want you want.” Sullivan’s jaw brushes his shoulder as he leans down beside Cameron’s ear again. “I’m going to show you exactly how a Marine fucks another Marine.”
Sullivan pauses, the weight and warmth of his hands holding Cameron together as Cameron struggles to think of what response Sullivan is waiting for. Struggles to do anything other than alight with joy and hunger for Sullivan to keep touching him, keep talking to him. “Sir, yes….. sir.” He breathes out, more air than sound.
But it must have been enough to satisfy Sullivan, inches from his mouth as he is, he’d clearly heard. A part of Cameron’s mind frantically clamours that he should turn his head and kiss Sullivan, taste him, but the palm cradling his skull dissuades him before Sullivan continues to speak low and quietly beside him.
“I’m going to give you want you want, Cam, and you are going to tell me if you want to stop or change something. This…” Sullivan’s hand on his still clothed chest becomes a claw of five enduring points of hard pressure over his heart pressing inwards and the hand behind his head slides down again into a reminder of the punishing grip Sullivan had on his neck previously. “this, isn’t the training yard I will not punish you for needing to change anything.” Sullivan’s hands hold Cameron, hard and unrelenting for a moment, waiting.
Cameron feels the stillness within both their bodies as they await his response. He lets the pinpoints of painful pressure over his heart feel like promises, holding him immobile while he also knows that whatever Sullivan does to him it would never, can never compromise either of their bodies in the sight of the Corps. It would be temporary even if Cameron’s heart hurts at the idea of not getting to see the evidence of Sullivan’s hands on him. “Yes, Sir, I understand I have to speak up. I will sir, I will.”