||[Jan. 11th, 2009|12:32 am]
The Jarod and Kyle Refuge
Title: The Ride to Somewhere|
Warnings: Incest, Swearing
Author Notes/Disclaimer: I own the 4 seasons and the 2 movies. Needless to say, the characters still are not mine.
Original prompt came from a conversation between T. and self. At which point, the actual plot began to take form. AU. Many thanks to jennaria for the fastest beta job this side of the city.
The motel was cheap and off the highway, paint flaking from the sides, and grime-stained windows. Kyle startled when Jarod turned off the car, and pulled the keys from the ignition. Kyle rubbed at his eyes. He hadn't slept, but had fiddled with the radio in silence for most of the ride, and fiddled with his knife for the rest, carving some sort of a shape from a block of wood he pulled from his jacket pocket. "Where are we?"
"Not sure," Jarod answered. He offered an apologetic smile, and palmed the keys. "Far enough, I hope. I think I saw a sign for a mall some miles in the other direction. We might consider going."
"Not now," Kyle said pointedly. "Too many people. Too easy to spot someone else. We'll want to wait until the crowds disperse."
Jarod didn't dare make mention of the contradictory nature of Kyle's statement. He knew some of Kyle's movements during the first of the long months they had been separated. Knew that his brother had stayed to the shadows, and avoided the general day-to-day life of humanity when he could. He held jobs, sure, and learned to grocery shop, and paid rent on various apartments. He had quite obviously bought a motorcycle from someone or somewhere, but Jarod didn't know all his brother had done. Kyle had stalked him in broad daylight and he had never noticed.
Perhaps it was better he didn't say anything. Quite obviously, when it came to avoid being noticed or spotted, Kyle was better than he was. Jarod liked to play games, but he purposely left clues to his next move. Kyle made sure he left no clues and no trail, or at least very few.
He closed his eyes briefly, and pulled a hand through his hair. The parking spaces were painted uneven, he noticed through the driver window, and the windows in the rooms were smudged. "You don't have to worry, you know."
"Jarod." Kyle's voice somehow managed to convey disbelief, exasperation, and underlying affection all at once. "I shot him, point blank in the chest." Kyle's voice was not only still strained, but so too, Jarod knew, were the muscles under his skin. Flesh was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and his eyes darted.
"This isn't Lyle we're talking about, little brother." Almost cautiously, he ran a hand over Kyle's arm - up and down - soft, and soothing. Kyle still hummed with nervous energy. His hands curled into his thighs, hands fisting in his jeans, knife still tight in one hand. Jarod leaned in, and pressed a kiss at Kyle's neck, where jaw met ear, and waited. But Kyle's eyes were still open, watching, and Jarod pressed another, this one at the corner of his mouth.
Kyle let out a breath - a breath that had to hurt somewhere, still all coiled sinew and wound muscle, but a breath all the same. "Oh, hell," he murmured, and caught Jarod's mouth with his. As with most of their kisses, it didn't hold so much tenderness as raw, tangled emotion.
"We - we should get a room," Jarod managed to sputter.
"Not here." Kyle's hands fisted in Jarod's shirt, dragging him closer in. "Keep driving."
Jarod might have said something else, if Kyle's hands weren't suddenly under his collar, and his own were riding up his brother's sides.
"Not here," he echoed.
"Not the mall either," Kyle mumured, punctuating the syllables with another kiss. He pulled away, pushed a hand through his hair.
"Another town then?"
Kyle glanced at his brother. A tiny, contained smile appeared on his lips, and he nodded.
Jarod closed his eyes, and unlocked the parking brake.
He didn't know for how long they drove. During some time in the middle of the night, he pulled into a gas station to refill the tank. Kyle disappeared inside the store, and returned with two cups of coffee, a thing of pez, and a candy bar. Jarod had the nozzle in the tank already, watching the numbers flash on the pump screen. He thanked Kyle for the coffee and the pez, and opening the wrapper, he popped a candy.
"How much?" Jarod asked.
"Gave him twenty bucks." Kyle darted a quick look around, eyes trained on the shadows until his eyes completely adjusted to the darkness. He rested his coffee on top of the car, and ripped open the candy bar, biting savagely. He swallowed the piece almost whole.
"We're heading east," Jarod answered the unasked question.
Kyle didn't answer right away, but reached for his coffee again, sipping at it thoughtfully. He swallowed another bite of chocolate, caramel and peanuts. "Let me drive awhile. You can sleep."
"You look exhausted." He finished off the candy bar, and crumpled the wrapper in his hand, shoving it into his empty back pocket. "I promise, no sudden cliffs or drops."
Jarod almost smiled, instead he nodded. "No dead-ends either."
"Of course not." Kyle agreed seriously, holding his hand out. For a second, Jarod was tempted to take it in his, to knot his fingers in Kyle's again, and pull his brother in close. Rather, he pulled the nozzle out from the tank, and he paid for the gas, and he placed the car keys in his brother's open hand. "Better get some sleep," Kyle said by way of thanks, "I can't promise I know how long it'll be before we get anywhere."
"Yeah." He went to move around the front of the car, and paused. Glancing over his shoulder, he almost smiled again. "I'm not sure where anywhere is."
Kyle startled, and his mouth tilted into a bitter grin. "We'll head north. You said we had headed east. We'll cut anyone off ahead, confuse them, and change our trail. North awhile, before we keep east again."
"Anywhere in particular?"
"I -" Kyle looked at the keys in his hand. "I don't know."
Jarod nodded, and looked out across the highway. "Better than nothing."
When Jarod finally woke, it was daylight. He blinked into the sunlight, and shielded his hand with his eyes. "Where are we?"
"Literally?" Kyle asked, throwing the car into park. He continued to stare ahead. "Not sure. There's a mall just on the other side of this parking lot," he said, jabbing his hand over his shoulder. "I saw it on our way in. You mentioned something about wanting to get supplies."
"Hmm." Jarod nodded. "You hungry?"
"We'll grab something at the food court."
"Fine, but you're buying."
Jarod already had his hand on the door handle, but at Kyle's quiet words, he dropped his hand. "You realize you just busted me from jail, right?"
Kyle almost smiled. "Exactly. You owe me, big brother." He kept his eyes on Jarod for a few seconds longer, before he turned away, and let out a breath. This one didn't sound like it hurt, but it didn't sound comfortable either. "We'll want to keep driving. We passed a motel a few miles back. We'll sleep there tonight. We should reach Chicago in another two days time, if not before. We can lay low for awhile."
"You'll be all right there?"
"It'll never be enough time, and it'll never be enough distance." Some shreds of emotion sneaked in around the edges of his tone. "Not until you're completely safe, but we'll be able to tie loose ends there. You'll be able to save your requisite soul, and I'll - I'll find something."
Kyle looked up, and he did smile. A simple baring of his teeth, more feral than pleasant. "I'll make sure you're safe. Can't promise I'll be all right here, but you'll be ok."
"It's a mall, we'll be fine."
"Exactly. It's a mall. This place is teeming with the unwanted masses of humanity."
"Teenagers?" Jarod didn't hide his amusement or his laughter.
Jarod squeezed Kyle's shoulder, carefully, taking note of Kyle's expression. "It'll be ok. I promise. No one will try to rape or murder us while we enjoy our lunch."
Kyle snorted, but Jarod heard the hint of amusement. He was surprised at the quick, but soft contact of Kyle's lips on his. His eyes widened, watching as Kyle pulled back. He grinned. "Come on," he said, pulling a little bit at Kyle's sleeve.
Kyle nodded, and taking a deep breath, he pulled the keys from the ignition, and pocketed them, following Jarod out of the car.
Jarod decided on the deli place (roast beef on rye, hold the mayo, no pickles, and a salad and fries), while Kyle went for the Chinese (garlic chicken and extra rice). He twirled the chopsticks in his hands a few times, waited until they found a table - along the perimeter.
"How's your sandwich?" Kyle asked, pointing with the chopsticks.
"Not bad." Jarod grinned. "Here, you're holding them wrong." He fixed the position in Kyle's hands. "Try now. You'll get the rice easier."
"How do you -?"
"I've worked in a Chinese restaurant."
"Oh." Kyle ate in silence for a few minutes. "Jarod."
"Hmm," he mumbled around a bite of sandwich. He swallowed, chasing it down with lemonade. He looked at Kyle expectantly, popping a fry into his mouth.
"What do you think of fisting?"
Jarod nearly choked on his fry, spitting it out of his mouth, and swallowing a very large gulp of the lemonade. "Could you - could you repeat that?"
"Fisting. What do you think of it?"
"I know there are different hand techniques for insertion, not that I've tried any." He shrugged at Kyle's raised eyebrow. "I was a sex therapist for awhile, Kyle."
"Right." He grabbed a piece of chicken with his chopsticks, and tore a bite off. "Before or after you worked in the Chinese restaurant?"
"Before." Jarod swallowed his bite of sandwich. He peered at Kyle suspiciously. "Why?"
"Just making conversation." He spoke around his bite of chicken.
If Jarod didn't know better he'd think there was laughter in Kyle's voice. "No. Discussing the weather might be conversation." He dropped his voice. "Commenting on the people sitting behind us would be conversation. Bringing up a mention of a sexual act out of nowhere is not conversation, it's -"
"Ever consider trying it?"
"Where - where did this come from?"
Kyle shrugged. "While you were asleep. Haven't you listened to the late call-in radio talk shows?"
"Can't say I have."
"Ah." Kyle nodded. "Somewhat educational. Someone called in, asked. Like I said, just making conversation."
"Hm." Jarod sat back in his chair, contemplating Kyle's expression. "Have you tried it before?"
"With who?" Kyle snorted. "The girls at the Dragon House didn't go for that type of thing. Not as if I was old enough to understand. Besides Raines would have wanted to watch." Kyle turned his head, fixing on a father and daughter two tables over. "And it's not as if the situation came up while incarcerated."
"You've been out for over two years, Kyle."
"Right." He glanced over his shoulder. One corner of his mouth tilted upwards; there was affection in that quarter-smile. "And there's no one else I'd consider."
Jarod's breath caught in his chest. There had the stolen moments in the New York hotel room: kisses caught up in raw emotion, and the awkwardness of getting their feet tangled in the sheets. But that had been over a year ago, and they had never made any promises.
He pulled in another shaky breath, and contemplated his salad, forking the lettuce and tomatoes, and chewing thoughtfully. "I might be willing to try."
Kyle swallowed the bite of chicken he had taken. "But?"
"We go to a nicer motel."
Kyle's eyes widened slightly, but he nodded, and actually smiled into his Coke.
Kyle and I are both fine. Don't follow me this time, and if you do have the chance, tell Angelo thank you for those website links.
(Wisely, Sydney didn't mention the email to Miss Parker.)
cross-posted to rare_pair and rareslash