Outer Scars, Inner Demons

Epilogue


Gordon: It had been so difficult for them lately. Scarface taking over Wesker's mind. Gordon going through hell and half of creation in search of him. The fights, the blood, the danger, the dirt, but it had all been worth it. He got to lay at home, in his own bed, next to the man he'd tried so desperately to retrieve. The man he loved.

If it wasn't the excruciatingly long time it had taken to get Wesker back to his normal self, it was the damned media circus afterward. Everyone wanted to hear about the spectacular mob bust that Commissioner Gordon had helped the Batman with in secret, how hundreds of lives were saved thanks to the Dark Knight and the brave kindly father of the GCPD.

It didn't matter how many times you told a reporter you weren't "at liberty to give that information", they'd physically explode before they left you alone. Two weeks of finding them waiting around his home to the point he had to put up EPOs. Having to meet Arnold in shitty little restaurants in the dead of night in the far end of town.

And the odd treatment at the department. He had no idea what Cobblepot had told Montoya and Bullock, but he was getting ceaselessly odd looks from them. Finding condoms and viagra samples in his desk drawer. Hearing Bullock make gagging noises and start twitching at any mention of the Ventriloquist. It was really quite taxing, though he hadn't the stomach to ask them directly about it. If something had been said, it would be verified in their minds. He'd have to get by on shooting them odd looks (and the occasional string of curses upon opening his drawer).

Now, though, things had slowed, and he could lay next to his love, feel warmth come off him.

He rubbed the slightly meaty sides of the man laying against him, leaning in to nuzzle his nose. "You're a whole lot of trouble, you know that? Not more than you're worth, but a whole lot of trouble."

Wesker: To say that he hadn't been in a bit of a paranoid state for the last couple weeks would have been quite the lie. After all, one doesn't just walk out on big crime bosses like the Joker or the Penguin and not expect them to retaliate against you.

Arnold had spent the time that he wasn't working ( Mr. Wayne being kind enough to give him a job in the Wayne Enterprises upon his release from Arkham, That Bruce was a really nice guy, didn't even question his sudden vacation. ) since his return to normal, mostly in his apartment. Shades drawn, door locked. Any moment he expected the door to come exploding off the hinges. But it never happened.

The worst of it was having to not see James as much as he wanted. A couple meals, a few phone calls. He really missed him. Seriously. Having to lay in his lonely bed at night, clutching a pillow. After such an ordeal, nothing would have been better and more healing then strong arms to hold him when he felt terrified in the middle of the night.

And that's why he was overly happy when the heat from the case had finally simmered down and he finally found himself in that familiar bed with that very loved figure holding him close and nuzzling him.

Wesker nudged his nose into the bristled whiskers on the other man's lips and furrowed his brows almost innocently at the statement he was giving. " I know.. I'm sorry." He said softly, but his mouth pulled a soft smile and he pressed a small kiss to Gordon's lips. A knee was brushed against an upper thigh, finger tips brushing against flat tummy and soft trailing hair.

"I can always make that up to you, of course." A wink of one eye. Ah yes, he was happy. He'd been through a horrific ordeal, but just laying here with the man he loved, made it fade at least for the moment.

Gordon: "Oh, you better. I'm fully expecting it," his matter of fact tone was lost in a smile. He put his arms around him, pulling him closer and shifting his weight between Wesker's legs, before rolling so he was on top of him.

Soft butt and belly pressed warmly against his own muscled stomach. He leaned his head back against the pillow as weight was shifted and looked up at him. His jovial look was probably clear even through Arnold's lack of lenses as he cupped his face in his hands.

Yeah, I've been waiting far too long for this.

He slipped one of his hands around to the back of Arnold's head and pulled him down toward his lips, pressing them together. It had been too long, he'd almost forgotten that dizzying feeling of feeling the other's breath, having his weight pressing against him.

Wesker: Aha! Wesker squeaked as Gordon shifted on top of him. It was a happy kinda squeak though, complete with a sudden wrap of arms and soft thighs around that lean frame. A rock of hips against the apparent arousals between them. Mouth met eagerly and passionately.

Yes it had been far too long.

It was so good to see James's smiling again. It almost seemed like Wesker would never get the image of him in those days when he'd been trapped inside his own mind. Stony, insane. Gordon had looked like something had utterly broken inside him. Maybe in those days it had. But now.. now was the time to make it all better. They deserved this didn't they?

Hot breath and wet spit mingled as he pressed deeper into the kiss. He wanted to drink him down completely. Hopefully they would never have to experience something like that again. But if it did happened, would they fight even harder?

Tongue swipe and Wesker pulled back from the kiss for a moment to pant, trailing his fingertips with another grind upward of groin against the other. "I love you so much. I want you soo bad.." He whispered before pressing back into the kiss.

Gordon: He ran his hands up his back, flesh indenting under his fingers as they pressed as tightly against him.

I have him back, I finally have him back-

Coherent thoughts evaporated as the smaller man began to rub against him. A very audible moan came out of Gordon, and his mouth moved to make words that just wouldn't come as Arnold pulled back, leaving a trail of anxious saliva that broke reluctantly, like a lifeline between their desperate lips.

If he had been able to make words, they wouldn't have been so different from what Wesker was saying. The feeling that was consuming his mind was throbbing veins and blood conveniently re-establishing itself away from the language centers of his brain.

"I-it's been a while.." he gasped loudly. "I don't think I h-have anything in here."

Wesker: The thin trail that was left hanging cold between their lips disappeared with a flick of tongue and Arnold let out a little bit of a pant. Those hazy blues were filled with all sorts of emotion. Happiness, relieve, love, lust and now even a sense of slight urgency.

What? Nothing in here? Oh god.

As much as Wesker loved Gordon. Dry humping was just not an option. Despite the gripping excitement and longing ache in his loins spreading deeper inside, the little guy gave another little jerk of his hips and pulled his hands from the other's back to press at his chest lightly, giving a few more small kisses to his lips with a bit of a whine.

"Something.. in the b-bathroom then? Maybe." Not that he really wanted Gordon to leave, but the need to feel him inside rather then just on top was a driving force indeed.

Oh yes, Wesker was a lot of work and a lot of trouble, but if he was worth risking life and limb for, he was also worth a naked run to the bathroom! "Mh, Please?"

Gordon: "Okay, just wait right there!" his tone was desperately anxious as he slipped out from above Wesker and went through the door. He slammed it behind him.

While Wesker waited though, the sounds started not unexpectedly. Drawers in the bathroom were being opened. Quickly, one after another. Then they opened again. More slowly this time, like he had to look through the contents.

Then the bathroom door opened... a rustle... and... there were voices? Maybe it was the TV, maybe it wasn't. But more drawers were opening in the other room, sort of dully, in the distance.

A little odd Gordon was taking so long. He'd left Arnold in such a compromising state too, something that shouldn't be abandoned for too long or the mood would be spoiled.

Wesker: Wesker whined for a moment at the lost heat and fumbled around on his back for a moment in the dark bedroom he was alone in now. He was so hard it almost hurt and Gordon was.. taking along time.

Head tilted as he listened to the distant sounds of the drawers and cabinets opening. Maybe he's totally out. Or something's wrong. A nibble to his lip. He was getting a little more then anxious and just a tad bit worried.

Another long minute and Arnold finally rolled off his back and sat up. He was going to have to go and see. He couldn't take just laying here. Argh, but first.. he needed his glasses. Didn't want to be walking into the walls.

The little guy shifted to his hands and knees and began to fumble around the bedspread toward the nightstand. Head lowered, scooting his torso down slightly so he wouldn't teeter over. Hand skittered past a few clothes that had been tossed in their earnest foreplay earlier. One of his socks was picked up then tossed over toward the pillow. Ahah!

Hand found the nightstand and his thick frames. He picked these up and slid them onto his face.

Gordon: For a moment, just as his skilled fingers found the frames to those thick lenses, a brilliance filled the room. The light had snapped on.

Then... "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"

The sound was completely unlike Gordon's. It was girlish, and high, and very panicked by the sight of a bare naked pale MALE bottom.

Barbara Gordon backed up, her wheelchair bumping into the wall and causing the front wheels to kick up a little bit. When she couldn't back up anymore, she just did the next best thing. Pointed and screamed again.

Wesker: Who set off the alarm system? No wait.. that was a girl screaming.

As his vision was enhanced by those glasses Wesker was greeted to Barbara Gordon screaming bloody murder and he utterly and completely froze! Mouth dropped, face went red.

And oh my what a scandalous position. Head down, ass up, this couldn't look good to anyone. As the screaming continued and continued the little man finally snapped out of his deer-in-headlights stance and gave his own shriek.

Clothes and blankets went flying as the Ventriloquist dived under the covers and curled up under then into a ball.

OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG. What the hell had just happened?

Gordon: He was too late. Oh, those fateful ten seconds when he turned his back on Barbara to go make coffee. Had she her father's knack for sticking her nose in perilous places? Oh most definitely.

He ran back at the piercing sound of his alarmed daughter's scream.

When she'd come in, he'd had to bolt for his bathrobe. She'd kept eyeing him curiously, but he never would have thought she would have gone wondering through his house of her own accord...

No, strike that. Yes she would have. But not in ten seconds with a wheelchair.

He looked between her, and the shivering lump under the sheets. She glared up at him with large, half accusing, half confused eyes. And Arnold, hiding under there like she was going to launch out of that wheelchair after him?

"...Arnold, meet Barbara, Barbara, meet Arnold," James said to himself, lifting his cup to his mustached maw. Yup, everything was slowing down and going back to normal, just like it should be.

Wesker: Like father like daughter eh? She made it around pretty good didn't she? The lump under those covers remained shivering for a good long moment. Even when James had mosied on into the room with his steaming cup of coffee.

The almost too calm introduction was made and slowly that lump ceased in it's utter shivering. There was a bit of moving around under the covers and..

..out popped one of Wesker's arms. Only it seemed he'd slipped a sock onto his hand. A mouth had been made in the crevasse of his palm and the striped white item smacked a few times before a nasally but indifferent tone scoffed out.

"Can't you knock? Sheeze. Yah agout gave the guy a heart attack, plus I think he suffered some grain damage to dat. Dat yer daughter? She's got some lungs."

Thus was the glorious return of Socko.

Gordon: Both Gordon's stared. Barbara's eyes slowly lifted to meet those of her fathers. "....Dad?"

"Coffee? It's still pretty fresh." There was a tone in Gordon's voice indicating he was choosing to pretend that none of this had ever happened.

Barbara glanced back at the sock, stared at it thoughtfully, then back at her father.

"Only if I can have whiskey in it, thank you."

THE END