http://www.SlashNexus.com   contact

The Invisible Man (90s)

"Oblivisci"
by Invision

He could feel his lips moving, but what was he saying? He couldn't make out his own words. Muffled voices above him. One feminine, the other belonging to a man. He opened his eyes, just barely. Harsh light stung his pupils, forcing him to close them again.

"Darien?" It was the feminine voice, except louder and clearer.

He opened his eyes again, and this time the light was more forgiving. Blurry images became the forms of Claire and Bobby as his eyes began to focus.

He longed to be back in the comfort of the soundless, dark oblivion.

"You okay, Fawkes?"

It had happened again, hadn't it? Darien could still feel his demon in the farthest corner of his mind. It was laughing. Taunting him because once again it had won. No matter how hard he tried, how hard he fought, it was always two times stronger.

He could feel Claire rubbing his arm gently, trying to be comforting. He ripped his arm away and sat up quickly, ignoring the wave of dizziness it brought. Darien didn't want comfort. He didn't feel like he deserved it. He didn't want pity, either. That was the worst part of it all. Waking up on the ground of wherever they had given him the counteragent at and looking into their faces. Bobby always tried to hide it, but Darien could still see it in his eyes. Claire, on the other hand, never tried to hide it. She tried to play the mother hen in these situations. She tried to give as much comfort as was possible for a scientist to give her lab rat. Comfort that he had told her several times he didn't want.

"Darien, just calm down," Claire said soothingly.

"I'm okay, Fawkes. You didn't hurt me," Bobby tried to reassure him softly.

Darien opened his mouth to tell them to stop trying to make him feel better. He wanted to tell them how much he hated their pity. How much he fucking hated it. But then he noticed the belt lying on the floor. He remembered how the leather had felt in his hands. He could remember fumbling with the buckle. He couldn't quite grasp why he remembered this...

Realization hit. Shock, anger, self-hatred, and shame all flowed through his body at once.

Bobby glanced over his shoulder and noticed what Darien's gaze was focused on. He immediately wished he had shoved the belt under the rug, perhaps sparing his friend the memories that he was sure were coursing through Darien's mind.

Darien stood up, his features twisted in an expression of pure horror. Before Hobbes or Claire could stop him, he ran out of the room and down the hallway.

"Fawkes!" Bobby yelled as he rose off of his bathroom floor and started after Darien.

Darien was already out of Hobbes' apartment and taking the stairs two at a time. By the time Bobby and the Keeper exited the building, Darien had disappeared around the corner.

Hobbes swore loudly, causing a man and a woman who had been walking down the sidewalk to glance back at him curiously.

"Bobby, he's just upset. I'm sure he's just heading back to his apartment. He probably just needs some time alone." She was trying to be reassuring, but Claire was a little worried over how Darien had reacted. She'd never seen him that upset, even after a bout with the madness.

"We can't be sure of that, Claire. God knows what the hell he's thinking of doing." Hobbes rubbed his forehead with a mixture of frustration and worry. He hands were shaking. His entire body was, actually.

"Are you all right, Bobby?"

"I'm fine." He could still feel her eyes on him. He turned towards her, feeling slightly annoyed. "I am *fine*. Do I look like there's something wrong with me?"

Claire's facial expression made Hobbes instantly regret having been so forceful with his answer.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell. My nerves are just a little on edge at the moment, you know?"

"Sure," Claire said, although now she really was beginning to wonder if something had happened, and Bobby just wasn't letting on to it. __________________________

He was running as fast as his aching legs could take him. He was alone in the street, with only the sound of his shoes hitting the pavement to accompany him. His ragged breathing became harsher as each breath he took seemed to contain less oxygen than the last. His head was throbbing, the blood pounding through his veins. He had stopped fighting back the inevitable tears after he had turned that corner near Hobbes' place, and his face was now streaked with them. Tears of pain and anger. Anger towards himself for not monitoring the tattoo close enough. Anger towards his brother for sticking the goddamned gland in his head. More anger towards himself for being a part of the experiment. Anger towards God for letting the gland be created.

He reached his building and collapsed against the brick wall. He took in big gulps of air, trying to sate his oxygen-starved lungs. He knew his legs would refuse to support him long enough for him to make it up the stairs to his apartment, so Darien Fawkes hugged his knees close to his chest, put his face in his hands, and cried softly to himself. __________________________

Hobbes glanced at his bedside clock. 4:46 in the morning.

He was worried sick about Darien. Claire had suggested that they "give Darien some room" instead of rushing over to his apartment, which is exactly what Bobby wanted to do. He knew what had happened wasn't just something they were going to be able to walk away from. They needed to talk, and it had to be soon.

"Give him some room." Yeah, Claire. Give him time to do something stupid, time to...No. That was a bridge meant to be burned, not crossed.

Bobby continually tried to convince himself that what Darien did while quicksilver mad did not reflect any deep dark desire buried in the farthest corner of his partner's mind, but part of him knew that that just wasn't the case.

He knew what it felt like, wanting to kill another human being. Unfortunate side-effect of intense paranoia. The victim becomes so distraught that the insignificant homicidal urges a typical person experiences every now and then are magnified ten times. Suddenly, everyone around you is out to get you. The man in the charcoal suit sitting at the table across from you in the modest coffee shop on the corner of the street is really an assassin. Survival instincts of a war veteran kick in, and you have to fight the urge to kill him before he is able to kill you. Yes, he knew what it feels like.

Of course, Bobby never blamed Darien for anything that happened. It wasn't like the man had a choice. Darien wasn't a typical person, anymore, thanks to the little biosynthetic piece of Hell that lay beneath his skull. The madness couldn't be avoided sometimes. That was just the way things were.

He glanced over at the clock once more. Thirty minutes had passed.

He picked up the phone on his beside table, doubting that Darien would actually pick up. If he was even at home, he reminded himself.

Hobbes dialed the number quickly and, just as he had expected, heard ring after ring until Darien's answering machine clicked on.

Hobbes slammed the phone back into its place, completely frustrated and feeling helpless.

"Screw this," he muttered.

He grabbed his keys, determined to help the man who had been there for him so many times in the past.

_________________________

"Fawkes, it's Hobbes. Open the door, man."

He didn't know why he even bothered knocking. He knew if his friend was inside, he wouldn't let on to it. Hobbes reached for the doorknob and turned it. Just like always, it was unlocked. He had scolded Darien on several occasions for the latter's habit of forgetting to lock his door. For once, he was glad Darien hadn't decided to take his advice; Hobbes hadn't been looking forward to needing to kick down the door of the man's apartment at 5:30 in the morning.

He closed the door behind him and made his way into Darien's bedroom. He didn't bother to turn on any lights; the early morning twilight shown through the windows, providing enough light.

"Fawkes?" he called out, praying that he would get some kind of answer. Anything. He just wanted to be sure that his partner was okay, was even fucking *alive*.

"Go away, Hobbes," Darien mumbled.

Hobbes breathed a sigh of relief. He spotted Darien sitting on the edge of his bed, arms wrapped around his thin frame, almost as if he were afraid he would break if he let go. It hurt Bobby to see him like that.

"I'm not going anywhere. Not until..."

"Just get the fuck away from me," Darien hissed coldly.

The harsh tone of his partner's voice scared Hobbes. It wasn't like the Darien he knew at all. Still, Hobbes refused to leave until he was certain that Darien was going to be okay.

"No, Fawkes. Not until you talk to me," he stated firmly.

"Hobbes, why can't you just leave? Why can't you understand that there's nothing you can say that could make me feel better. Just stay as far away from me as you can." Darien's voice was filled with anguish.

"Fawkes, that wasn't you back there. We both know that when you're in the right state of mind you'd never hurt anyone." Hobbes moved toward the bed and sat down close to Darien, yet still keeping some distance between them.

Darien flinched as he felt the bed sink in further as Hobbes sat down, and he wrapped his arms around himself tighter. He felt another hot tear slide down his cheek.

"I mean it, Fawkes. I'm not leaving." Hobbes placed a hand on his friend's back, and much to his relief, Darien didn't pull away.

"I could've killed you, Bobby. Christ, I *wanted* to."

Bobby began to move his hand in circles against the younger man's back, trying to soothe the pain he knew Darien was feeling. "It wasn't you, man. You've got nothing to feel guilty about."

Darien laughed harshly. "That's just it, Hobbes. It wasn't just the gland. Whenever I get the counteragent, the urges just disappear. But it was different this time. When I woke up, I still...I still wanted you, Bobby. I fucking do right now." Darien buried his face in his hands out of shame and embarrassment. He couldn't believe he just admitted that to Hobbes, his partner, his friend. What the hell was he thinking?

"I know," Hobbes replied softly.

Darien looked at Bobby, the shock evident in his eyes.

"What?"

"I did some thinking after you...you know, took off. I was scared, Darien. I wasn't sure how much you remembered or what you were thinking of doing." Hobbes' voice softened with each sentence. He nearly felt overwhelmed by how much he felt for Darien. "I care about you, partner. I...I need you," he admitted, his tone a bit husky.

"Bobby..." Darien whispered softly. His lips remained parted, his eyes focused on Hobbes' mouth. He hoped his friend would realize that it was an invitation.

Hobbes could tell what Darien was asking for. He leaned towards Darien and plunged his tongue into the inviting warmth of Darien's mouth, eliciting soft moans from the other man. Bobby moved one of his hands to the base of Darien's neck, pushing their mouths closer together. He felt Darien's arms wrap around his waist, squeezing him slightly.

Hot and intense, they continued kissing each other until they were both completely out of breath.

"Are you sure...right now?" Bobby asked. He knew they both wanted it, but he wasn't sure if either of them were in the right state of mind at the moment, especially Darien.

"I need this, Bobby. I need you. Please..." Darien replied earnestly.

Hobbes instantly grew hard upon hearing the other man's pleas. There was so much desire in Darien's voice that his cock was already aching with need. He needed release, needed his partner so fucking bad.

Bobby immediately brought Darien's mouth back to his, and Darien hurriedly began removing his pants and briefs while still keeping his lips in contact with Bobby's. They broke away long enough for both men to remove their shirts, and Bobby shed his pants and boxers, as well.

Darien surveyed the sight before him: his best friend now completely nude before him. Something he hadn't realized he truly wanted before that night yet he felt like he'd been waiting for it his whole life. Suddenly nothing mattered. Not the gland, not the madness. While Bobby was here with him, he could forget.

"God, Bobby, I need you inside me," Darien moaned as Hobbes pushed him back onto the bed.

Hobbes began kissing Darien's neck, sucking and biting the warm, moist flesh gently. Darien reached over and opened the top drawer of his nightstand and pulled out a small tube. He couldn't remember when he'd gotten the lube and didn't care. He just wanted, *needed* his partner inside.

Hobbes quickly squirted some of the substance on his fingers, and then positioned himself on his knees in-between Darien's opened legs. He carefully inserted one finger, than another into Darien's puckered opening.

Darien moaned and writhed on the bed, amazed at how much pleasure one man's touch could give him.

"Fuck me, Bobby," Darien whispered into the other man's ear. He grasped Bobby's hips and pulled as he wrapped his legs around the other man's waist.

Hobbes pressed into the tight passage, gasping as his cock was introduced into the man's warmth.

Darien drew in a sharp breath, trembling slightly as a tidal wave a pleasure washed over him.

"God, you feel so good," Hobbes moaned, barely able to speak over the pleasure that was vibrating throughout his body. He began to move faster, sliding in and then out, again and again and again. Darien thrust upward to meet each stroke, desperate to drive Bobby deeper inside him.

"Harder. Fuck me harder," Darien begged breathlessly.

Whatever caution Hobbes had been using suddenly left him, and he began pumping harder, pounding his throbbing cock into the body beneath him. If they were under different circumstances, Bobby would've gone slower, would've tried to prolong his building orgasm as long as possible, but he knew how much Darien needed it. How much he himself needed it.

"Oh....Jesus..." Darien whimpered, one hand clawing at Hobbes back, willing him to go faster, harder and the other tangled in the sheets. With each of his lover's movements, the contact between his erection and Bobby's stomach created amazing friction that he knew was going to drive him over the edge any second. The anticipation was almost painful.

Bobby was panting with effort, and he could feel drops of sweat rolling down the sides of his face.

Darien screamed Bobby's name as he came, heedless of the fact that it was quite possible for the neighboring tenants to hear him, and Hobbes felt his friend's hot juices spurt onto his body.

With one final thrust, Hobbes climaxed and collapsed onto Darien's sweat-soaked form.

So fast and yet it felt so good, so fucking good.

Bobby eased himself off of Darien and glanced over at the other man.

"Oh God, Hobbes..." Darien sobbed, tears streaming down his face. "I'm so sorry."

Bobby watched as the other man crumbled before him, the tears flowing uncontrollably. He simply pulled Darien into his arms and tenderly stroked the back of his head.

"It's okay, man. We're gonna be okay," he murmured faintly.

As Darien's sobs began to recede, he whispered a barely audible "I love you" before falling asleep in his lover's arms.

Bobby kissed the top of Darien's head.

"I love you, too, Darien."

~The End~

*** end ***

The Invisble Man is the property of Stu Segall Productions.

All series, movies and characters are the properties of their respective owners. No infringement of those rights is intended. All fics on this site are the copyrighted property of their respective authors.

Site and design copyright © the other g.m.
All Rights Reserved.