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meme_of_interest2013-03-28 06:03 pm
the_machine_mod) wrote in meme_of_interest2013-03-28 06:03 pm
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Prompt Post 01
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Finch/Fusco, clumsy kisses
(Anonymous) 2013-04-02 07:41 pm (UTC)(link)Fill: Out Of It - Finch/Fusco, drugged kisses - General - No Warnings
Fusco sighed. "You know, this is becoming a bit of a habit with you. What did they give you this time, huh?" He carefully cut through the ties. Finch didn't seem to be hurt, apart from being high as a kite.
"I don't know, but I liiiiiiike it," Finch told him earnestly.
Fusco snorted. "Good for you. Enjoy it while it lasts."
Finch let Fusco pull him to his feet easily enough, but he wasn't much help in keeping himself upright, and when Fusco tried to nudge him into walking, he started swaying wildly in Fusco's hold. "Oh, oh dear!" Finch said, and then he started giggling.
Fusco sighed. "Here, come on." He pulled Finch against his side, holding him tight with an arm around his waist. They staggered up the basement steps together, Fusco half guiding, half dragging Finch. Halfway up, Finch dropped his head onto Fusco's shoulder and closed his eyes. It didn't make it any easier to keep him going in a straight line, but on the other hand it meant he didn't need to see the corpses sprawled messily in the hallway, so Fusco certainly wasn't going to make him look.
He took Finch home to his place. Finch had safehouses, but right now, Fusco didn't trust him to make a good decision. The suit was still "unavailable", whatever the fuck that meant; so Fusco's crappy little apartment it was. If he'd known he was going to have Mr. Classy And Expensive over, he might have picked up the laundry from the floor. Not that Finch was in any shape to notice. He was still smiling dreamily, listing a little from side to side when Fusco propped him up against the wall.
Fusco switched on the overhead lights, and Finch abruptly stopped smiling. "Hey! Hey, you're hurt," he said, reaching out with an unsteady hand to touch the place where, oh, yeah, Fusco's jaw felt swollen and sore.
"It's nothing," Fusco said, a little more brusquely than he'd meant to. He'd been clumsy, slow, let a guy get the drop on him when he should have been paying better attention. If it had been Reese, he would have complained; just another instance of Wonder Boy's antics getting Fusco banged up. But Finch's wide-eyed sympathy was making him feel flustered.
"You got hurt saving me. It's not nothing," Finch told him earnestly. He didn't even seem to realize that his hand was still cupping Fusco's face, his thumb resting gently against the throbbing bruise.
"Yeah, yeah, come on, time to get you to bed," Fusco told him, shrugging his shoulders uncomfortably. God save him from affectionate stoners.
"No, I should – Detective," Finch said. He was drawing himself up, trying hard to look serious and composed and failing completely. His eyes weren't really tracking properly. "You're very… We're. I really… appreciate… your help. You're very brave," he said, and then he darted in to kiss the corner of Fusco's mouth, off-center and clumsy but still sort of sweet, despite the fact that Fusco had to grab him halfway through to keep him from overbalancing.
Fusco gently pushed him away, hearing his own laugh echo forced and uncomfortable in the narrow hallway. "Man, you're out of it."
"No, I mean it," Finch insisted.
"You're gonna be real pissed at yourself tomorrow, buddy," Fusco told him, propelling him gently forward with a hand between his shoulder blades. "Come on, let's get you to bed."
He sat Finch down in the armchair while he changed the sheets. Finch was going to be prickly and defensive tomorrow, and who the fuck could blame him; those drugs were a serious mindfuck. But Fusco had been on the receiving end of Finch's anger before, his dry, sarcastic wit, so sharp it took a while to even feel the sting. Fusco was going to have to grin and bear it, but the less he gave Finch to be politely cutting about, the better. At least Fusco wasn't going to have to hear about how he'd made Finch sleep in dirty sheets.
Finch collapsed in a boneless sprawl as soon as Fusco let him. Fusco winced at the angle of his neck, bent at the very limit of what Finch's body would allow for. If he let him sleep like that, Finch probably wouldn't be able to get out of bed tomorrow at all. He tried to prop him up a little with pillows. Finch put up no resistance, blinking slowly up at the ceiling while Finch arranged him like a doll.
Fusco collapsed on his couch in his clothes, dragged his blanket over himself and determinedly pushed away all thoughts of what had happened tonight. People said things when they were high; it meant nothing. He could savor it now, Finch's drunken words of praise, and then let it sting tomorrow when Finch woke up regretting every single thing that had come out of his mouth; or he could go the fuck to sleep and not think about any of it ever again.
******
Fusco woke up to Finch making coffee in his kitchen, prim and buttoned up. If it hadn't been for the slight wrinkles in his clothes, you couldn't have told that anything had happened at all.
"Good morning, detective," Finch said, in his usual brisk tone, and Fusco found himself relaxing slightly. Business as usual, then. If Finch wanted to pretend that nothing had happened, that was just fine by him.
Finch stayed for breakfast, although Fusco couldn't quite figure out why. Finch didn't actually drink any of the coffee he'd brewed, and from the queasy expression that flickered over his face for a second when Fusco offered to share his toast, he was feeling the effects of last night more than he let on.
"About last night," Finch said, when Fusco had finished the last piece of toast. Fusco bit down on a sigh. So they were going to do this after all. Finch was shifting uncomfortably in his chair.
"Can we not?" Fusco said. "You were high, you didn't mean it, I'm gonna forget it ever happened, how's that?"
Finch actually looked tempted for a second, and then he pressed his lips together and squared his shoulders. Fusco sighed. So much for the easy out.
"I did mean it," Finch said, and that was still his usual brisk, no-nonsense tone, so ordinary it took Fusco a second to comprehend what he'd said. "All of it," Finch added, and then he took a deep breath, marched around the table like a man bracing to go to war, and pressed a quick kiss to Fusco's mouth, sober and precise this time but somehow no less clumsy.
For a moment, they were close enough that Fusco could actually hear the faint chime of Finch's earbud activating, and his quiet little breath of relief just before he said: "I have to go."
He left Fusco sitting there, staring after him in stunned silence. In the doorway Finch turned around to give him a tight, shaky smile. "Thank you, Lionel. For everything," he said, and then the door closed behind him and he was gone.
END
Re: Fill: Out Of It - Finch/Fusco, drugged kisses - General - No Warnings
(Anonymous) 2013-04-03 04:12 pm (UTC)(link)*grins, bounces* Thank you! Thank you so much!
Re: Fill: Out Of It - Finch/Fusco, drugged kisses - General - No Warnings
Re: Fill: Out Of It - Finch/Fusco, drugged kisses - General - No Warnings