chair
by Pares

Dreams. If there was something like a police band scanner for dreams, on a slow night you might find yourself tuning into the dreams of men. Not players, not men of power, but mere men.

Pendrell dreamt of being seated beneath a single white interrogation light in a dark room, with a pliant Agent Scully across his lap, kissing him deeply while they were both still in suits. Mercifully, his lab jacket seemed to have disappeared.

Langly dreamt that when he finally got his mail order blow up doll inflated, she was Heather Graham, warm and blonde and alive, complete with golden roller skates, and with Langly trying to fill his own lungs, panting, dazed and wondering at his incredible luck.

Frohike dreamt of a hot tomato. Quite literally. A juicy plum tomato bursting with jalapeno sauce.

And Byers dreamt.... of having his arms tied behind his back, of struggling uselessly on a bed, in the dark, frantic, shouting, eyes wide but sightless, unable to get loose...

***

"Wakey, wakey, sunshine."

Byers didn't open his eyes, but he smiled into his friend's bristly kiss.

"I came straight here as soon as the train got in." Langly, between his refusal to own a picture ID and his morbid fear of flight, found it easier to avoid airports all together.

"You didn't shave first?" Byers wondered at his own mild reproach; he already knew the answer, and didn't really want Langly to leave him for a few minutes with a disposable razor.

"Nope." Another warm kiss, but no wicked tongue sought to pass his lips. "But I brought you something I thought you might like."

Byers, warm, sleep fuzzed, glad to be in his lover's arms again, kept his eyes closed and nodded, his cheek rubbing pleasantly against the pillow.

"I swiped 'em from the Main Ballroom at the Regent. When I saw them, I thought of you."

"Langly," he chided, amused.

"It's too late to bring 'em back now."

Byers felt something inexpressibly soft stroke his temple. Tugging gently at the arm Byers was resting on, Langly stripped him out of his loose white and blue striped pajama top, and then began to graze his friend's naked back.

Byers shivered, his pink rosebud nipples peaking at the texture of... some kind of cloth.

"What is that?" He asked, his voice husky with fading sleep and waking desire.

"It's your present," answered Langly, his tone distracted, attention focused on the task at hand.

A delicious warmth glided down his back, circled up again, kissed his shoulders, then circled the cap of muscle on his free arm, skinning down the back of his arm, the surprisingly sensitive point of his elbow and then tickling the crook and dragging its soft, downy way down Byers' inner wrist.

"No, really, what is it?" Byers made a lazy attempt to look over his shoulder, but Langly kissed him instead, blocking his view.

Then Langly closed a strong hand around the arm Byers had been half-laying on, and crossed his wrists behind his back. Byers' eyes widened immediately. Langly had looped the soft furry touch around his wrists, tightened it, binding him.

Byers froze.

Langly petted the back of his neck, his voice hazy with lust, smoggy with fondness.

"They're the velvet ropes that were holding the drapes back," he reported.

"No. Don't. No!" Bucking, Byers began to squirm. "Don't do this. Please untie me. Please untie me. Don't."

Stunned, Langly could only stare for a moment, as his friend began to moan, to struggle with a chilling animal panic that made Langly freeze. Byers had worked himself into a thrashing frenzy by the time Langly had the presence of mind to try and untie him.

Pressing his body against Byers, Langly tried to use his weight to still Byers desperate writhing.

"It's okay, John. We'll get you out of this in a minute. But you'll have to hold still, hold still, that's right, baby, hold still and I'll untie you. Shhh. It's all right. I can untie you. That's right. Relax. Relax."

Byers finally came to a rocking halt, eyes still wide and shocked, chest heaving, and Langly was extremely glad that the knots came undone without incident.

The moment his hands were free, Byers was on him, fingers knotted in Langly's shirt, face hidden against the other man's chest.

"Don't. Please don't ever do that. Don't ever do that again," he begged.

Byers was surprised to see tears brighten Langly's eyes as the other man wrapped himself protectively around him.

"Jesus, I'm sorry. I didn't know--"

"Some boys. In high school. I was the chairman of the dance committee. I was just... Three of them decided to tie me in a chair and leave me in the boiler room."

"Fuck, Byers. That's awful." He closed his hand in Byers' hair and kissed his friend's temple.

"Awful isn't the word. There were... there were... rats." He shuddered against Langly's chest, and Langly kept kissing him, softly, reassuringly. "Thank god Mr. Beasley came in on Saturdays. I'd pissed myself and all... It was... I *begged* Mr. Beasley not to say anything, and he just shrugged and gave me a pair of janitor's overalls." A gloomy chuckle left his congested chest. "My mother gave me hell like you wouldn't believe for staying out all night. But I think my dad was secretly pleased." Lifting his eyes at last, he gave Langly a wobbly smile. "I think he thought I'd spent the night with a girl."

Cupping his friend's face with both hands, Langly spoke gravely.

"Baby, I am so sorry. So sorry. I'd never have done it, Johnny--"

With a dismissive wave, John wrapped himself against his lover and pulled him down into the bed with him.

"You couldn't have known, Ringo. It's okay. It'll be okay if you just... hold me?"

Nodding, Langly tightened his arms so fiercely that Byers feared he'd be smothered. He nestled his cheek against Langly's soft hair and reveled in their simple closeness. After a while, he relaxed in Langly's arms, and slept.

Langly would hold him all night long.

END