Chapter Text
It’s… different, that’s for sure. Raiden doesn’t quite know what to do so he just kind of stands there in shock and awe, almost like he’s frozen on the spot. The only heat he can really feel is coming from Sam’s lips, his mouth moving slightly to try to deepen it. Raiden still remains unmoving.
When Sam moves back slightly to wait for reciprocation, Raiden suddenly feels as cold as he’s acting. His head is racing, thoughts buzzing a mile a minute as his brain literally tries to compute just what the fuck is happening and what to do about it. Sam moves even further back, eyes cast downward, brow knotted.
“I’m sorry…” he whispers. He looks so… pained. Raiden’s still trying to understand, still trying to gather his thoughts and feelings. If only that wasn’t so fucking hard in this messed up body of his.
Sam shuffles as if to move away, but Raiden’s grip is sudden and firm on his arm.
“Jack?”
The name sparks something in Raiden’s brain, something that once again fires up his fight or flight response.
So, as is par for the course for him, he chooses fight.
Wrapping one hand around Sam’s neck, he quickly swaps their positions and forces Sam up against the window. Sam’s shocked, but he doesn’t really fight back. He feels defeated. Wrong. Disgusting. Accepting of the beating he’s about to receive.
Something happens. A switch in Raiden’s head, something buried deep beneath all of the wiring, the nanomachines, and those fucking inhibitors. As quickly as he had grabbed him, he releases him, Sam sliding down the window until his feet once again touch solid ground, reaching up to tentatively touch his neck, accepting what had just happened.
Raiden, on the other hand, looks at his hands as if they had moved of their own accord, and not in the way that he had told them to. Balling them into fists, he really concentrates on them, on that one little niggling thing far in the back of the recesses of his mind. That one little voice. That one tiny human feeling that somehow still exists telling him to kiss him back.
His fingers shake when they rise up to touch Sam’s lips, Sam looking completely accepting of whatever is going to happen next.
What he doesn’t expect is for Raiden to lean in and softly, chastely kiss his lips. A swift movement. Unsure. But no less interesting for Sam, whose face beams, a cocky smile already beginning to bloom.
Raiden, infuriated by the cockiness of this asshole, growls before harshly kissing Sam once more, all teeth and tongue.
But Sam won’t go down without a fight. As is usually the case with them, they fight each other, both one upping the other. Raiden’s bites are answered by Sam’s tongue which in turn is answered by Raiden completely enveloping Sam, trapping him against the glass, and forcing a leg between Sam’s.
Sam submits blissfully, an almost imperceptible moan escaping his lips as his body succumbs to the pressure placed against it. His hands try to join the action, sliding their way up Raiden’s back, but they’re swiftly and forcibly removed, deftly raised above Sam’s head and restricted by one hand. Sam chuckles, a witty retort on the tip of his tongue, that is until Raiden teases at it with his own tongue, and then there isn’t much left in Sam’s head.
The kisses become more fierce, verging on the edge of becoming violent, teetering and threatening to fall. Raiden’s bites begin to draw blood, and it satiates the part of him that wants to destroy, wants to rip and tear and maim.
Sam, head pleasantly empty, allows Raiden to take whatever the fuck he needs from him. And in a weird way it’s the happiest he’s ever felt. Like if Raiden were to kill him again right now he wouldn’t even care all that much as long as it made Raiden feel something. There’s a fleeting thought about how seriously fucked up this whole situation is, but it dissipates quickly as Raiden leans some more of his weight on the leg between Sam’s, putting the most torturously delicious amount of pressure against his already hardening cock.
Sam separates from Raiden’s aggressive mouth, tipping his head back against the cold glass to let out a sweet moan, his hips moving as much as they can when being pinned down so efficiently. Raiden hones in on that sound, his focus completely shifting from kissing to kneading Sam’s cock with his thigh.
Despite the fact that Raiden is still in his armour, the combination of the relief from being touched and the pain from the hard, cold carbon fibre does something to Sam that he’s not particularly proud of. He moans again, more openly this time, deep and full of timbre.
Raiden, interested to see if he can feel the effect he’s having on the man, removes the hand that’s caging Sam within his space, and softly places it on his chest. It’s difficult to feel much through his carbon fibre and Sam’s chest of metal, but there it is. The distinct feeling of a heartbeat. Rapid. Interesting. He tries not to compare it to the slow beat of his own, and instead focuses on making Sam moan again so that he can feel the rumble beneath his chest and the way his breathing hitches.
Raiden is focused now. Completely set on his goal. He’s going to make Sam cum, he doesn’t care what he has to do to get there.
It’s a little overwhelming for Sam, the intensity of all of Raiden’s undivided attention focused on him, and he’s beginning to feel quite dizzy at it. The way Raiden’s hand digs its nails ever so slightly around his chest plate, causing just the right amount of pain for him to feel almost perfect.
Raiden’s focus for his lips moves on from Sam’s own, and slides down instead to Sam’s neck to see what he can feel and taste there. Raiden comes to a sudden realisation about himself in the next few seconds. He’s sucking lightly against Sam’s neck when it hits him. His mouth is the most human part of him. With it he can both taste and feel, albeit subdued from a human’s senses. He can hear Sam moan, taste the salt of his skin and the blood from being bitten, can feel his quickening pulse, can - to an extent at this angle - see the effect he’s having on Sam’s body, can smell the hot, sweaty, musky scent that Sam gives off when he’s excited.
And it drives him. It makes him feel so human. He wants more of it. Wants to get closer. Wants to taste and hear and smell and see and feel more from this man. Wants and wants. His focus becomes, impossibly, more pinpointed.
To just make them both feel something.
Raiden shifts his position to cage Sam in with just his legs, Sam mewling deliciously at the loss of contact to his cock. Raiden actually manages to crack a smirk at that, realising that he delights in the sound of Sam’s frustration and need, and makes a mental note to make Sam suffer more often.
The hand that was holding Sam’s wrists captive loosens ever so slightly to scratch its way down his flesh arm, delighting in the hitch of Sam’s breath and how his arms don’t move from their position apart from to bend ever so slightly up into the metal of Raiden’s nails. Raiden moves to stare at the way that Sam’s face twists and turns through his emotions. The way his eyes screw shut when his nails move lower to dig ever so slightly in to his lower stomach, dangerously close to the base his cock. Then there’s the way they open wide when Raiden removes that very hand an instead moves it to cup Sam through his sweatpants. His mouth draws in a gasp, and Raiden can’t help but to lean in and steal that very breath from him, taking the moment of vulnerability to force his tongue inside and revel in the taste of blood and spit. The way that Sam’s lips vibrate with the following moan of pleasure actually manages to make Raiden’s lips tingle, so his grip tightens slightly around Sam’s dick, causing the feeling to happen again.
It’s almost like a call and response. An action and reward. The more pressure and movement he gives, the more feeling he gets back. The more real he feels. The more he doesn’t want this moment to end.
To Raiden, it almost feels like a first time. Like he’s just learning how his own body and mind responds to the signals firing through it, the new responses to the new situation he’s found himself is. And, to an extent, it is. This body is not the same one that made love with Rose. It’s not the same one that fucked those guys back in the military when he was angry and looking for something in his life to control. It’s changed many times since then, even the nanomachines that were already a part of him have been changed since then, upgraded and updated with new information and different reactions to signals, hormones, and impulses.
This, unfortunately, is a lot more subdued. There’s not a lot for him to feel with anymore. Both in the sense that his skin and armour don’t pick up as many impulses anymore, and that his emotions are completely fucked up. Most of them don’t even exist anymore. It’s all been replaced by anger, by fear and fury. Happiness is a distant memory, but nothing is more distant than the feeling of being loved, of loving. Of feeling ecstasy and euphoria. So what better way to experience it again than to cause it in someone else and then licking it from their lips.
He can almost taste the need dripping from Sam’s lips, the flavour of his own name as it’s whispered against him. It makes him hungry for more. So he proceeds further. His other hand gently circles its way around Sam’s throat to feel his breath and pulse beneath his fingertips. If he held it there, if he closed his hand a little further, he would be able to feel Sam’s life slip away from him. Part of him sparks in interest at that and Sam can swear that he sees a faint flicker of red in Raiden’s eyes, it makes his hips jerk into the pressure of Raiden’s grip, and his breath hitch, something which Raiden relishes in when he feels it beneath his palm.
Sam’s arms, having been kept in place for this whole time by sheer force of will alone finally flop helplessly to his sides as he just lets his body react to Raiden’s ministrations. He’s completely at the other man’s will. And he fucking loves it.
“Jack,” he whispers again, needy, high in pitch. He takes in as much shaky breath as his lungs and Raiden’s grasp will allow. He’s trembling. His legs feel like jelly. He feels as though he’s on the verge of passing out and he’s not sure if it’s because he’s on the brink of cumming or because of his desperate need for more air.
Raiden looks… calculating. Like he doesn’t quite know what step he wants to make next. Should he allow release? Should he continue to control Sam like the putty he’s become in his hands? Should he stop? Why is he doing this? For Sam or for himself? What exactly is he trying to gain?
“Jack,” Sam moans again, his head pressed against the glass, his hair sprawled in every direction against it, the bun far beyond messy now. His face is tilted so that one of his cheeks is smushed slightly against the window, but his eyes keep their dark and steely gaze fixated on Raiden’s confused and intrigued ones.
Sam wiggles slightly beneath his grip, and Raiden feels a cautious metal hand cradling the back of his neck. This, interestingly, causes him to growl in response and search hungrily for Sam’s lips to take them in a fierce kiss. So Sam strokes at Raiden’s nape, or at least what he can through his armour, and delights in the way it makes Raiden hum against him.
Sam, wanting to cause that sound to happen more, wanting to make him feel something, slips his other hand into the mix, groping blindly at Raiden’s crotch.
Raiden’s reaction is immediate, pushing away and creating an icy distance between them. His body is tense, a coiled spring ready to escape.
“I’m sorry-”
“I can’t-”
They both talk at the same time, and then the silence resumes, heavy and uncomfortable. They hear a car speed past outside, there’s the ticking of the clock in the kitchen, the gentle hum of the fridge. In the deafening silence they hear too much. Too many thoughts, too many breaths. Too much space between them.
But it’s safe.
It’s safer this way.
It’s safer for Sam this way.
At least that’s the thought that Raiden’s racing mind finally settles and focuses on.
“I cant…” Raiden starts again, watching Sam’s gaze fall from his.
“Jack, I’m so so-”
“No,” it’s not your fault, it’s mine. “No, I can’t…” It’s difficult to find the words. It’s difficult to find the correct emotions with this inhuman body. It’s infuriating. It’s terrifying. Raiden doesn’t know what it is. It’s too much. “I can’t give you what you want.”
Sam responds by looking up with sympathetic eyes.
Raiden reads it as pity.
“I can’t… I don’t have… I don’t work like that anymore. This body can’t work like that anymore.” Raiden’s hands are clenched and his jaw is tight.
“I… I know. I’m sorry Jack, I shouldn’t have-”
“Don’t.”
“What?”
“Don’t call me that,” it’s whispered, defeat clear in his tone. “Please.”
“Raiden…”
Raiden stares at the ground, willing it to give him some sort of explanation. An answer to the question of what he should do next. He takes a deep breath. Admitting everything is a terrifying thought. But… he’s going to try.
“I can’t feel anything like that anymore,” he begins, his gaze still pointing firmly to the floor, incapable of looking at Sam right now. “And I can’t give you whatever it is you want from me.”
Sam, not willing to give up without at least a bit of argument, lets out a breath of disbelief. “I… I don’t want anything more from you. Just this. Just what we were doing. Or less, if that’s what you need.” He moves forward ever so slightly. Raiden steps back. Sam halts immediately, stuck in place.
“I can’t…” Raiden repeats.
Sam, getting angry now, raises his voice slightly. “Because you think you’re not human enough to feel these things? I felt you, Raiden. In the way that you kissed me. You wanted it as much as I did.”
“But I can’t!” Raiden explodes, glare flicking up to fix on Sam. “I can’t feel it! I can’t give you what you want. Want you need.”
“And who are you to tell me what I need?” Sam retorts.
“What you need is someone who can feel happiness and euphoria. Someone who can feel their heartbeat racing, someone who is human, Sam. Someone who can make you feel good. Someone who can-” he cuts himself off. The word he was about to say was too big, too raw. Too real. Raiden deflates again. He can’t feel that word. Sam can. And that’s not fair on him. This stops now. Before it gets to that point. “I can’t,” Raiden says one last time.
There’s another lengthy silence between them, but Sam doesn’t use it to argue anymore. For this, Raiden feels grateful, and begins to calm a little.
“I’m going to bed…” Raiden says, trying to keep his tone light, trying already to go back to the way things were before he fucked it all up.
“Okay,” Sam replies. It’s an awkward exchange and it leaves the both of them feeling cold and empty.
Raiden retreats to the safety of his room and gets ready for bed in a silence that feels neither comfortable nor natural. His thoughts, however, are far from silent. And they don’t quiet even when he lays down. He tosses and turns, tries everything to get to sleep. At one point he goes to look at what time it is on the clock to see how many hours have passed in his restlessness but something else catches his eye.
White, smooth, the red of the clock reflecting off of it, the way the shine is off slightly because of an imperfection.
The porcelain wolf.
Raiden reaches for it, his fingers lightly brushing the head of the lone, howling animal, as if to pet it. He picks it up gently, as if too much pressure would cause it to break, like its delicate nature could crack at any moment. It balances precariously in his palm, wobbling, unstable, but never falling. He feels entranced by the little figurine, compelled to study it further than he ever has. There’s a desperation in its eyes, howling for a moon that doesn’t know it exists. Its stance is strong, but there’s an almost retching motion evident in its howl, like it’s crying out in pain, like the cry itself is clawing its way forth from the wolf’s lungsl. It makes Raiden feel… almost upset for the animal. Like he should be helping it somehow.
Softly, he places it back on the bedside table, the lightning like crack on it looking deeper and darker than ever.
When he finally drifts off, it is not a peaceful slumber. But it is of a simpler time in his life. With one big difference.
Sam is there.
-
The next few weeks are filled with the same avoidance, but tenfold. Raiden goes out on more missions, and they continue to get further and further away from Denver. Sometimes he’s gone for days at a time, leaving Sam to worry that something went wrong and that Raiden’s dead in a ditch somewhere. On those days, he spends the majority of the time beating the punching bag black and blue, and the rest of the time he wanders the streets looking for trouble. He’s quite glad he never finds any.
The nights they do have together are tense. When they eat together they do so in near silence, only making the most minimal small talk. Sam asks how Raiden’s most recent mission was, Raiden asks what Sam got up to while he was gone.
There are brief moments, times when Sam says something so ridiculous and the grin returns to Raiden’s face. Or Raiden is talking about something that interested him about his mission, and Sam can’t help but stare at how animated he is. Or Raiden makes Sam genuinely laugh at something and there’s a spark of something inside him.
There’s even one moment, when they’re training together, and they get close… close enough to just… they both pull away at the same time from that one. Apologising for different reasons. That evening Raiden goes straight to bed without any food, staring at the porcelain wolf, hoping that it’ll answer all of his questions.
At the beginning of the fourth week, Raiden goes on a mission that he claims will only last him a day or two. On day four, Sam really begins to worry. Raiden’s not picking up his personal mobile and Sam starts to dread the worst. But instead of stewing in that feeling like he has the last few times this has happened, he makes his way to someone who he hopes can help him.
-
Courtney’s the one who is there to meet him at the door.
“Oh! It’s… you!” She says, trying very hard not to sound too annoyed or confused.
“Hello, gorgeous,” Sam replies with a cheeky grin and a twinkle in his eye.
“Yyyyeeaahhh, that’s not gonna work on me,” she replies, rolling her eyes. It may work on one particular blonde but certainly not her. Sam is in no way Courtney’s type, what with him having been an enemy and the whole trying to destroy the world thing. “What are you here for?” She’s still standing in the door, making it quite clear that she’s not going to let him in anytime soon.
“Oh, I, um,” Sam, being uncharacteristically nervous and shy all of a sudden, tries and fails to keep his usual cocky demeanor. “I was just wondering if you’d heard from Raiden.”
Raiden?, Courtney thinks, managing to keep the surprise off of her face, What happened to Jack? “Uhh. He’s on a mission right now,” she says, feeling like she’s a voicemail speaker about to say ‘Would you like to leave a message?’
“Yeah, I know that,” Sam retorts, perhaps a little short. He’s worried. He can’t help it. He knows that Raiden can be difficult and self-destructive and altogether a massive cunt but he swore that he’d be home in just a few days. And Sam trusted him when he said that. But now it’s been more than a few days and Sam needs to know why. He needs to know that Raiden is okay. “Have you heard from him recently?”
Courtney blinks. “Actuallly,” she starts. And this is where Sam’s mind races into maximum overdrive with all the possibilities of what went wrong. In that small pause that Courtney takes for breath, Sam goes through so many scenarios and emotions that he actually feels like he’s going to be sick. He imagines Raiden dead on the streets, Raiden lost in the middle of nowhere with no hope for rescue, Raiden losing his way and going full ripper. “We had some problems with the mission.” Shit, shit, shit, shit. “He was meant to be home, what, two days ago now? We had to extend it, and we haven’t heard from him since yesterday.”
Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit. “And you didn’t contact me?” He says, all venom and spit.
“We… didn’t think to do that?” She replies, looking sceptical. Then, in a slow movement, she takes a knowing sip from her coffee “And why do you care anyway?” Her eyebrow is cocked, there’s a small sliver of a smile on her lips, and her gaze is daring Sam to say something.
Sam tuts in frustration, before letting a breath out because he kind of doesn’t want to kill one of Raiden’s friends. He doesn’t do that anymore. He’s close, but he won’t. Through slightly gritted teeth he says, “Please can I come in?” Courtney’s only reply is another sceptical quizzical look and a tensing of her body. Sam drops his head, looking as helpless as he feels and quietly says “I just need to know that he’s okay.”
Courtney trusts Sam wholeheartedly in that moment, which could be seen as foolish, but she’s usually right about these sorts of things. She knows that something’s going on between the two of them, even if it does end up just being a close friendship. Tilting her head to the side, she says in a singsong voice “I’m going to get into so much trouble!” and moves back slightly to let Sam past.
He doesn’t push, doesn’t shove, doesn’t race past her. He even makes a stop to give her a quick peck on the cheek. “Thank you, Courtney.”
She watches him walk past, her hand reaching up to touch her cheek. Maybe it sort of, kind of, almost works on her. Maybe. Ish. “You’re going the wrong way,” she says, before catching up to him and showing him the correct way to go.
When they enter the room, Kevin swivels in his chair, a warm greeting ready for Courtney. His face quickly drops when he sees Sam. “Oh,” he says, turning back to his screen, “it’s you.”
Sam lets out a huff of laughter at that, admiring how alike Courtney and Kevin are. “Hello,” he says, for lack of something better to say.
“And what the fuck is he doing here?” Kevin questions, still staring at his screen. Sam notes how hard he’s clenching the mouse in his hand and steps back slightly.
“He’s come for Raiden,” Courtney replies.
“I’m sure he’s done that more than once,” Kevin mumbles under his breath, causing Courtney to give him a swift swat to the arm. Kevin, rolling his eyes, swivels back around on his chair to give Sam a piercing look. “What do you want?”
Sam feels like if he makes one move then he’s going to die right here right now. Kevin will just blink and Sam will be obliterated. It’s… actually kind of nice, knowing that Raiden has people looking out for him like this. With good reason, of course. He did try to kill him and part of his family. “Uh…” Kevin’s eyes squint at the hesitation, “I just… need to know that Raiden’s ok.”
Kevin’s eyes go from nearly shut to comically wide in a split second. “Holy shit,” he says in awe, letting out a little chuckle afterwards. “Wow he really means it…” he whispers to himself, eyeing Courtney, who gives him an equally confused and slightly worried look. He swivels back around, bringing up a direct link to Raiden’s codec. “We haven’t heard from him in at least 24 hours, but that’s not really unusual for him…”
This, unfortunately, does nothing to calm Sam’s racing mind, actually it does quite the opposite “Right…” He says, trying not to sound too frightened at the prospect of Raiden being dead for a whole day, his body long gone rigid and cold. He takes a deep breath.
“His emotions have been hard to read lately,” Courtney says, then corrects herself, “I mean harder to read than usual.”
“Which considering Raiden’s emotions are already severely constipated, is really saying something,” Kevin adds.
Courtney rolls her eyes again, exasperated. She pulls up two chairs to the screen, one of which she sits on, the other she motions for Sam to use. He doesn’t really feel like sitting right now, his body is so full of anxious energy that he doesn’t think he’d stay down for long anyway, so he just waves his hand, a thankful smile on his face.
“Anyway,” Courtney says, “It’s like… I don’t know how to describe it.” Raiden still hasn’t picked up the call during all of this. Kevin and Courtney seem unbothered by this, something which Sam wishes he were capable of right now. “I guess it’s kinda like,” Courtney finally continues, “he was getting better and then he suddenly got worse again? I think?”
Kevin nods his head, pulling up Raiden’s vitals on a second screen. They look okay, an elevated heart rate, but he could just be in combat. At least he’s not dead. Or injured, by the looks of it. Okay. Sam breathes a little easier.
“Like about 4 weeks ago, Kev?” Kev hums in agreement. “Yeah like 4 weeks ago he just suddenly started taking up a bunch of missions again.” Courtney, clearly uncomfortable and biting on her tongue, fiddles with her hands.
“What?” Sam asks, only able to watch on as Kevin tries to call again.
“Well…” Courtney begins, sheepish, “as far as we know, nothing happened with us but um… did something maybe happen between you two?”
Sam blinks, trying hard to focus on the monitors, but his gaze wavers. Something happened between them. And that means it’s his fault. And that means if Raiden gets hurt then that’s all Sam’s fault too and… actually, this is all starting to sound a little hypocritical right now. Sam can’t help the anger mixing in with the worry. “We uh… Yeah. We kissed.”
Kevin, focus burning into the monitors as he practically stares holes in them, grumbles “I really don’t need to hear this.”
“Oh,” Courtney says, a little taken aback. “Right…”
“Actually it was more than that…”
Kevin starts typing aggressively loud on the Keyboard, “Jesus Christ.”
Sam, offended, snaps a little. “You don’t like me much do you?”
Kevin lets out a short bewildered laugh. “Not much, no! I mean, you kinda did try to kill my friends and, oh yeah, destroy the world too.”
“I told you-” Sam begins, but is cut off.
“I know,” Kevin exhales. “But it still doesn’t mean I like you. At least not yet.” He doesn’t even look at Sam to say it, but he adds on, “It’s just gonna take a while to come to terms with what you did.”
Sam knows this, he knows that it’s going to be hard and that it’s going to take time, for Maverick and Solis more than anyone else that Raiden knows, so he puts his hands up in defeat and apologises.
There’s as short but no less awkward silence after that, before Courtney asks “Could you… elaborate on what happened? We might be able to help you to stop it from happening in the future.”
“Oh, uh…” Sam doesn’t really know where to begin. How much is he even meant to say here? What would their reactions be if he told him how he really feels. Instead of just speaking it to the empty space in front of him, he finds slightly more comfort in turning his attention fully towards Courtney. “I kissed him and it got… out of hand?” He’s trying to put it as delicately as possible. “He kissed me back, it got heated and uh…” He really hesitates here, but Courtney’s open and understanding face makes him feel safe. “I tried to… make him feel good…”
Courtney’s eyes shoot open wide, as Kevin voices “rookie mistake.”
“Huh?”
“Oh, what Kev means is that um…” Courtney concentrates hard on her phrasing, “When Dok rebuilt Raiden again, he could have given him uh… functioning parts, if you catch my drift.” Sam nods. Courtney looks forlorn, a little lost in her empathy. “But Raiden said that he didn’t deserve them.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Said he was a monster and that he didn’t want them and, well… yeah that was that, really.”
There’s another awkward silence. Kevin’s furiously tapping away again, but this time it’s more out of frustration than anger. He’s trying to get a hold of Raiden in any way possible, but it doesn’t seem to be working. Courtney’s still looking sympathetically at Sam, but it starts to feel more like pity, so Sam turns his gaze away to look at the floor.
It really is all his fault. If only he hadn’t been so dead set on fucking Raiden, none of this would have ever happened. If he could’ve kept it in his pants just this once, maybe he could’ve tried at a different point, or, actually, maybe he wouldn’t do that, content to just be close friends. But now he may never even see him again. Sam had fucked up royally, and he was berating himself for it.
Courtney, feeling the emotional turmoil he was going through, reached out to softly grab Sam’s arm in reassurance, Sam turning a sad smile towards her in gratitude.
Suddenly there’s a triumphant shout of “Raiden!” from Kevin, and Sam’s attention immediately snaps to the monitors.
“Sorry,” his voice comes through, and Sam feels his heart race in relief. “Was in a difficult situation. What’s up?” He sounds a little out of breath, definitely like he’d just been in an intense fight, but he sounds healthy.
“We’ve got someone here that wants to speak with you,” Kevin replies, nonchalantly.
Raiden tsks, “I’ve told Sunny before that she’s not allowed to contact me while I’m on a mission like this. It’s too dangerous. I can’t risk her life again like I did before.”
That hits Sam pretty hard because he knows he’s talking about the Badlands/ Solis incident.
“It’s not Sunny.”
“Then who?”
“Hi, Raiden,” says Sam, sheepish.
There’s a long pause, the only sound coming from Raiden’s end of the conversation a slight static buzzing. That is, until, he lets out a long exasperated sigh. “And what the fuck are you doing there?”
“I’m… worried about you?” It comes out as a question because he assumes that it’s obvious, and is questioning Raiden’s lack of awareness.
“I’m on a mission, Sam,” Raiden says, short and straight to the point.
“I know,” Sam replies, “but I just needed to know that you’re okay.”
Raiden looks confused. “Why?”
Sam, taken aback, takes a moment to mull the stupidity of the question. “Because… I care about you?”
“And?”
Sam blinks. And?! Fucking and?! “That’s all you can say after 4 days of radio silence? You were meant to be back 2 days ago!” Sam’s getting riled up again. If he were still 100 percent human he’d be worried about the rollercoaster ride that his blood pressure levels have been on over the last few weeks.
Courtney wheels her chair over to Kevin’s, grabs his arm, stands, and drags him with her out of the room.
Raiden, unfazed, just repeats “I’m on a mission.”
“A mission,” Sam reiterates, anger bubbling beneath his voice “that was meant to end. Two. Days. Ago.”
Raiden shrugs, looking disinterested. “It happens.”
Sam nearly explodes. “And you didn’t think to let me know that you were okay? I’ve been sitting in the apartment worried sick because I thought you’d been killed or kidnapped. Fuck, Raiden, I thought-” What he wants to say is I thought I lost you but what cuts him off is the feeling - the overwhelming knowledge - that he’s not his to lose. So he stops himself, collects himself slightly, and finishes “I just thought something awful had happened.”
Raiden, unbothered by Sam’s outburst, replies “I can look after myself.”
“God, you can be so fucking hypocritical,” Sam spits through gritted teeth.
“Can your drama queen act fucking wait? I’m busy. You know I’m alive and okay now, and I’ve got shit to do.”
“Whatever,” Sam replies, immediately hanging up and slamming his fist on the table.
“Hey!” Kevin bursts back into the room. “Try not to destroy Maverick property while you’re here yeah?!”
Sam doesn’t move, back hunched, fist still clenched and shaking on the tabletop.
“Sam…?” Courtney questions, voice quiet and nervous. Before either of them get too close to see how compromised he is, Sam straightens up, plastering a smile on his face. It’s the fakest thing either of them have ever seen Sam do. It’s actually quite jarring. “You okay?” Courtney asks, already knowing the answer.
“Peachy,” Sam replies, standing. He flashes them both his teeth in what he hoped was a smile but looked more like a warning from a feral animal. “Thank you so much for letting me talk to him.”
Without fanfare, without flourish, without his usual cocky quips, Sam turns, and swiftly leaves the room, leaving Courtney and Kevin to stare blankly at the door.
“What-” Courtney starts but is quickly cut off by Kevin.
“It’s best we don’t know.”
-
It’s much later that evening, and Sam’s in the shower when he hears the front door slam closed. He’d worked out most of his frustration in the training room, but somehow just that one sound has made most of it come rushing back.
Raiden, unaware of the emotional outburst about to come his way, heads straight to his room to change into his skin, having been cooped up in his armour for 4 days straight. Sometimes, particularly when he’s forced to sleep in it, it can become quite claustrophobic, and he feels like he’s itching to get out of it.
Raiden’s back in the kitchen, getting himself a glass of electrolytes when Sam steps out of the bathroom. His hair is damp and mussed from a quick and angry towel dry, and his jogging bottoms are slung low on his hips. Raiden barely even gives him a glance before simply saying “Hey.”
Sam, his calmer mood now completely ruined just scoffs. “That’s really all you’re going to say?”
Raiden still doesn’t look up from his glass but takes another swig of the liquid. “And what do you want me to say?”
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe ‘Sorry for not contacting you’?”
Raiden places his glass on the counter with a loud thud. His eyebrows furrow, and his lips set in an almost completely straight line. “I was busy.”
“And I was worried!” Sam shouts, throwing his hands up in frustration.
“Why?!” Raiden asks, whipping his head around to stare daggers at Sam. “What’s the fucking point? I can look after myself.”
Sam, disgruntled, claws at his face, growling into his palms. “Christ!” He exclaims, removing his hands to gesture emphatically, accusatory, at Raiden. “You are such a fucking hypocrite!” Raiden scoffs and rolls his eyes in response, crossing his arms and leaning back on the counter. “What? I can’t go out to get some fucking food without you shitting yourself but you can go missing for 4 whole fucking days and I’m supposed to just sit back and let it happen.”
Raiden doesn’t reply, but neither does his gaze falter. He’s steely, impossible to read. His face is completely set, almost entirely emotionless if not for the agitation expressed by the squinting of his eyes and crimp in his brow. He’s clearly not backing down any time soon.
Sam lets out a defeated breath. He’s sick and tired of all the arguing that they’ve been doing, the circles that his emotions have been running around. “I can’t have you getting hurt because of me,” he admits. There’s a flicker of movement on Raiden’s face that disappears as quickly as it had appeared. “I’m the reason you went out on all of those stupid missions. If you’d’ve died I-” Sam stops, his throat clenching. He quickly collects himself. “I can’t have that.” He says, as a way of getting his thoughts across without revealing too much about how he really feels. “Just like you can’t have me getting hurt because of you.”
There’s a deafening silence, what feels like the hundredth they’ve shared in recent days. Both men stare at each other, neither willing to back down, equally as stubborn. Raiden’s the first to break the gaze, once again rolling his eyes and looking away.
“Then leave.”
Sam feels winded. “What?”
“I said leave,” Raiden shrugs, tilting his head back around to look once more at Sam. He looks completely unbothered by this whole situation. “Stop worrying about me and leave.”
Sam scoffs incredulously at this turn of events. “If that’s what you want, Raiden, I’d be more than happy to oblige.”
Raiden shrugs. Sam doesn’t know it, but inside there is a voice screaming at him. This is not at all what he wants. But he doesn’t know what it is that he wants. He doesn’t know anything anymore. And it’s all Sam’s fault. So the easiest way to deal with that is to get rid of the underlying cause. Having Sam leave would certainly solve the issue. Surely. Definitely.
Sam once more huffs out an aggravated laugh. “Fine.” He throws his hands up in surrender, before crouching down to pick up what little he can of his belongings. He haphazardly throws on a tank and his leather jacket and picks up his bike boots.
Raiden remains in the same position throughout, seemingly composed. But… Within him a war is raging. He knows that this isn’t the way to deal with whatever problem he thinks they have. He knows that he doesn’t want Sam to leave. He knows he knows he knows. And yet he just stands and watches as Sam gathers his things. He doesn’t want this. But what exactly does he want? What is it? Why is this happening.
Sam’s got his hand on the doorknob when he feels a firm grip on his arm. “Let. Me. Go.” He says, frustration clear in the tone of his voice and tension in his body. In all honesty, Sam doesn’t want him to, he doesn’t want to have to leave, but it’s all becoming a bit too much and he needs out of the situation. Whichever way this boils over, he doesn’t care, as long as it just finally breaks. The angry expression on his face falls and turns to shock when he turns to look at Raiden, and Raiden takes whatever Sam was going to say straight from his mouth by forcing their lips together, his grip on his arm tightening.
Sam, still angry, bites hard at Raiden’s upper lip, making him reel back far enough that Sam has enough space to also headbutt him. The hand around his arm doesn’t move. “Don’t fucking toy with me,” Sam says, but his retaliation is cut short as Raiden once again pushes their lips together.
It quickly breaks. Everything. All the arguments that they’ve had, the close calls in the training room, the events of the other night. All of it simultaneously makes so much sense and means sweet fuck all in this one moment. Right now they just want. Both of them. The give and take everything. With their lips, with the tight fists in their hair, with the way they’re pulling at each other.
When they break, there’s a silence between them but this time it’s filled with a clear unspoken conversation. Raiden squeezes Sam’s arm, tugging gently. A question. A chance to escape, to retaliate, to deny.
Sam smiles, eyes dark, teeth bloody, and allows himself to be dragged to Raiden’s bedroom.