Ichor And Steel

Chapter Forty-Eight; Grievance On His Skin

ʟᴏᴏᴋ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴜɴ, ᴏ'ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ

Mature/NSFW content ;)

The ichor and his steel reunited come the later evening hours. Ethan staggered in, the factory's clasp holding a significant difference in temperature than the outside but something sullen lingered in the air. Heisenberg was found in the guest quarters, sulking where Rose once slept. Within his moping was wrathfulness, leering over Donna's restive body. Ethan came forward and touched his shoulder, assuring him all will be fine, and the metal man twisted around without leaving his seat and embraced Ethan's waist, wallowing in the silence that had never before befallen the land for so long.

They cleansed themselves of their violence and war-ridden hands and both perched on the edge of seats in the living quarters, separated by those final moments in the clutches of Mother Miranda's bane. Heisenberg refused to speak of such an experience and all he dully informed was, "she's dead. Ethan. Mother Miranda is very dead until she is not."

His words inspired Ethan to lament how much he missed Rose, his regret and horrendous, gut-wrenching hurt spurring him to pace and shout.

"Then why didn't you go with her?" Heisenberg yelled, afflicted with the deep discomforts of an impending argument. "You could've been with her—"

"I'm just like you; I can never be her normal father!" he caterwauled, hands raised, and fingers clenched. "You are no monster, Heisenberg, but I am; I am what inspired the BSAA to hunt you...I am made of mold and can never leave this place..."

silence

"...but maybe, that's a good thing."

"How?" Heisenberg asked in a restrained wail, a haunted look stealing all the beautiful colour in his skin. "How is that a good thing, Ethan?"

Ethan smiled wildly and threw his head around. "Can't you read a face...a room, a—a—an action?" His voice settled and with a pang of remorseful guilt—as he didn't want to admit such heavy passion in the dreary wake of war—confessed, "I love you."

Heisenberg's posture straightened, his shoulders extending his height and Ethan's head bowed.

"That's what I thought," he sneered into the quiet.

"But you didn't make a mistake, Ethan!" the metal man said too late and approached and gripped for the blond's listless arms. "You will never be the monster I am because you are made of beautiful things...I—I love you too, and I am sorry that you do...you feel that..." He sighed and his head swung away, defeated.

"We need to sleep, Kar," Ethan whispered gently, stroking the man's hand.

They dispersed but met again in bed. Akin to their first meeting, a boundary erected between, nothing touched another until the warming, waver of sunlight glittered through the windows and pierced the private of the room. Outlined by the gracious breath of sun, something compelled them to roll and face the other, thumbs caressed hands held deep in chests, and an exchange of listless mutterings led their lips in soft pecks and enveloping in a long-drawn kiss. Heisenberg moved his body atop of Ethan's, a shining waterfall of silver falling across their faces, his hand intervening to hold the wonderful shape of the blond's face; a soulmate's hand fit their lover's chin, it all just felt right and forgiving.

Bodies touched in fierce grinds, contrasted to their supple bites and kisses, lips licking and grazing delicate flesh so tender and excited for temperedness. Only parting to shed clothes to allow hot skin against all the colder unscathed parts; dipped faces together and apart, inhaling and exhaling scents and wishing to stain their tongues with lustrous tastes; and the morning sun stroking upon their starkness, detailing orbs of sweat roiling down Heisenberg's back and dripping onto Ethan's quivering legs, hung in a faint squeeze of the metal man's shoulders.

ah—ah

The moan evoked from the tongue on lower, sensitive flesh shivering by the extra, sharp touch of a piercing, Ethan holding a satisfying grip in Heisenberg's loose hair, other preoccupied grasping the pillow and writhed his body to further the touch. Holding the blond's hips, he withdrew and wiped his mouth, admiring Ethan with a gape and kissed to soothe his unhinged jaw, swallowing the smoothing sounds. Hips coiled in perfect sync, the steel digging within the ichor to rub the nicest of spots and his teeth cinched flesh and lips whilst Ethan ran his fingers roguishly down his neck and into the brawn of Heisenberg's back, flexing like his palms and fingers, bracing for the release.

Alas, in the moments afore, they lingered in each other's faces and noses brushed and nuzzled, smiling and whimpering laughs for at last a bliss dawned like the day upon them and, for now, their woes subsided.