Scathefire(MxM)[Unedited]

4

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Like a time bomb ticking away in its seconds, Avery feels explosive. Waiting patiently for the last second to tick away and make him explode as he struggles to process the long journey from his safe home to this unfamiliar building. He's bursting at his seams without any way to gently let go of the cascade of undefined emotion. What else can he do besides cling tight to the only consistency he can think of? He doesn't dare let go of Austin's hand, as if the building will start crumbling once he lets go. That is until his hand is forced away, and he doesn't have much else to do besides follow orders and walk into the bathroom. He closes the door, and the cool air bites at his skin as he tentatively strips away his dirty tunic.

The floor is cold, and the walls are cold, everything is absolutely freezing in this room. Cold and white and shiny. Austin had said to take a bath, but how? He's never been this far away from home, and his brain feels fuzzy. His thoughts are mixed and jumbled into confusing murmurs and he can't pick out a single thought.

Avery takes another step further into the porcelain room. His body is dirty, smudged with dust, scraped, and blood, and he comes to that horrific realization as he catches sight of himself in the mirror. His body feels otherworldly, as if he's looking through someone else's eyes. He doesn't recognize himself in that mirror, and the sudden fear that he's already failed God's test strikes him hard. His lip trembles and he fights hard to keep his tears in his eyes, but it's like trying to hold water in relaxed fingers, and they run down his cheeks anyway. Avery hugs himself tight within his wings, the soft, warm down on the inside is soothing, enough to make him feel like he can breathe again.

Just as he has that thought, he spots Austin in the mirror behind him and turns. He feels like he should be more alarmed that Austin is freely next to him while he's nude, but he can't make himself care. Perhaps it's the unreal feeling in his mind, or the strange familiarity between them that surfaces once again, or maybe he's just too exhausted to be rational enough to distance himself. Regardless, having Austin's guidance once again is enough of a relief for him to follow along and sit down in the warm water and turn a blind eye to Austin's jet-black eyes scouting out his bare skin.

He doesn't think much about his response to Austin, as if it's not him saying it but someone else. He can't be bothered to focus on whether his leg hurts or not. He's can't be bothered to focus on anything aside from his immediate senses. Warm water lapping at his thighs, the quiet splash of Austin getting the washcloth wet. Austin's hand coming up to cup his chin and get his face wet with the cloth sparks his faroff stare to focus on Austin's face.

His vision tunnels onto each feature. His dark, heavy brows creased by frown lines. Crows feet wrinkled into the corners of his eyes, and his scarred brown skin, littered with tattoos. His neck and one arm entirely blacked out. Austin is somehow the epitome of all the dangerous, scary men that Linus warned him about. Down to the scar in his right eye that warps his iris and makes his eye droop to the inside. But Linus' descriptions of being taken advantage of, bled like prey and hung up on display for lusting eyes and hands to violate, don't even begin to compare to these benign caresses and that honey sweet tone.

Avery is fully aware that he shouldn't feel like this. A man as worldly as this shouldn't be a source of comfort. He's betraying Linus by leaning into these gentle touches, but is it really all that sinful to allow himself to be taken care of? The 12 Disciples allowed Jesus to wash their feet. But Judas had betrayed Jesus with a kiss to his cheek. Guilt burrows itself into Avery's heart and he closes his eyes, his lip quivering again as the washcloth moves from his cheeks to his shoulders, spilling water down over his torso. His mind follows the pressure on his skin as Austin dampens his skin. The click and gurgle of the soap bottle echoes in his brain until Austin begins to lather it over his skin.

He clenches his teeth and stifles a sharp sob. Austin's hands stop and the pause breaks him, tears streaming down his face.
"Why are we crying, babe?" Austin whispers, his hand resuming it's gentle cleaning. Avery can't bring himself to answer. If anything the quiet tone makes him cry harder, a choked whimper sleeping through his lips. "Am I making you uncomfortable?" Austin changes his course of questioning to something a little easier to digest. Avery bites his lip and shakes his head. That's exactly the problem, and at that moment he decides that he's just committed a sin. For only the second time in his life, he has committed a sin. He's caving into temptation and can't bring himself to do anything that might keep Austin from touching him.

The remainder of his bath is spent with Avery in tears and Austin silently bathing him. The water is drained and Austin grabs a clean towel, lifting Avery to his feet and drying him down.

Avery watches Austin gather the clothes and approach him with them. He sits on the toilet lid and drapes the clothes over his knee, picking up the boxers first. Avery doesn't make any attempt to take over as Austin dresses him. The boxers are too tight, so Austin doesn't force them, and just slides on the checkered PJ pants, tying them in place. Avery cringes a bit as the shirt is slid over his head, and he sticks his arms through the sleeves. The shirt is a bit too big, but it's soft and smells... worn. Not bad, but as much as he can smell laundry detergent, he can smell years of morning and evening routines, long nights, smoke and drink and food and the sharp fossil fuel smells of the modern day.

Avery clutches at the fabric as Austin stands, following along as he's guided through the bathroom and out of a door. It's not the same door they'd entered through, just adjacent to that door, which leads to the living room, this door leads to a bedroom. Austin flicks the light switch on, illuminating the bedroom they've just entered. The room looks... untouched. The bookshelf is dusty and the bed is neatly made. The closet hangs open to reveal a neatly organized wardrobe of children's clothes.

"Who's...?" Avery trails off, staring.
"It's my niece's room. Sort of. It's technically a guest room but I don't really have overnight guests." Austin clarifies, shrugging. Avery nods, walking over to the bed and sitting.
"Does she come over often?" He asks. Austin shrugs.
"Not really. She used to but y'know..." He trails off. "She just grew up. Got too busy to have sleepovers." He snorts with bittersweet amusement. There's a moment of tense silence before Austin takes a step back. "Well, whatever. The room is yours. Apartment is yours, explore as much as you want, just keep quiet, I'm going to sleep." He says, before stepping out of the room, leaving Avery in the artificial light.

Avery sits on the bed for ages until the light begins to bug him. He stands and walks over to the curtains, pulling them open to reveal the floor-to-ceiling behind them. Better. The gray, cold light makes the room somehow easier to see as he walks over to push the light switch down, turning off the overhead light. Avery opts not to lay in bed, and instead takes the blankets and curls up in front of the window. He watches the cars and people below, letting it sort out his busy thoughts. He ends up discovering that he has far more questions than answers. Questions that he doesn't want to think about. Questions that he won't think about as the steadily strengthening sounds of rain and an incoming storm lulls him to sleep.

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Thanks for reading :)