Work Text:
"Oats we sow" A Henry Townshend/James Sunderland Fanfiction
What are you doing, Henry?“, James opened his eyes and calmly looked at the shadowy figure, lingering over him.
Night had fallen over Ashfield heights. The muffled sounds of a few cars passing the street were heard from outside but otherwise the room itself was quiet, leaving out the gentle noise of shifting fabric on the bed.
The air felt thick and warm in the darkness. James didn‘t see much but he heard Henrys uneven breath, felt his thighs pressed to James sides as he sat on top of him.
Warm hands were clasped around James neck, with thumbs pressed to his throat.
Silence.
James sighed in content and relaxed again. His eyes started to adjust to the darkness surrounding them.
With time, Henrys features became more and more distinct compared to the Silhouette he had seemed like before.
James raised his right hand and cupped the unshaved cheek of his companion, brushing over the uneven stubbles and then over the slightly open lips, with his thumb.
He smiled.
Henry did not make a move as he continued to silently rest on top of James. In the lack of light he looked old. Time hadnt been kind to Henry, James admitted. Although Henry was a couple of years younger than him, his eyes always layed deeper in the sockets no matter how much he slept.
James still thought he was beautiful. The pain they shared, lay next to them in their bed, every night but still, Henry was full of kindness.
Kindness, that originated in sorrow, all too familiar to James in so many ways.
Having Henry by his side made him feel like he might be able to forgive himself one day. Like their fates weren‘t all too suffocating. Even just for a second.
A comforting friend for a lonely heart.
Yes. Henry was good for James.
Even now, as his thumbs slowly pressed harder into the thin skin of James throat.
James sank even further into the pillow under him, slightly throwing back his head in his neck, his gaze wandering along the ceiling above him. He started to feel dizzy from the pulsating pressure and shortly but to no avail, gasped for some air.
But Henrys grip became tighter and tighter. His breath erratic, almost desperate, as he was the one being strangled and not James, who now violently grasped the sheets under them.
Some broken laughter escaped James, now open mouth. The entire room around them started to turn faster and faster.
Bitter, hot tears prickled down his cheek, from the corner of his eye, as the exctasy of the lack of oxigen kicked in.
After all this was what he deserved, James thought, and It was what Henry needed.
For him to be destroyed the same way he had destroyed. For Henry to take the control he had been denied to all this time. It was fair.
The oats they had sown now finally had started to sprout.
But then Henry stopped.
Horror appeared on his face as he realized what he was doing. Apruptly tearing his hands away from James neck, who still lay on the bed, motionless but conciouss. Well nearly.
„No, nonononono.“, he mumbled in panic, fastly shifting away from James, to the foot end of the bed.
His voice was quiet but full of fear. Pressing his hands on his mouth, Henry slightly leaned foward and froze.
James lay there. Coughing, arching his back. The dizziness from before still remained. He had a hard time lifting up his head to catch a look at Henry.
Worried green orbs scanned the, now again, shadowed figure on the other side of the bed.
Clumsily James rolled on his stomach and, almost like a toddler, tried to crawl across the sheets towards his friend.
Still covering his face, Henry did not notice him until James reached out a hand to touch Henrys knee that was drawn close to the rest to his body.
Like he had been shot, The younger man flinched at the gentle touch of James fingertips.
Guilt boiled up inside of James guts, as he viewed the horrified expression on Henrys face.
Eyes wide and alert and, as much as James could tell in the darkness, trembling lips aswell.
James lowered his head in regret, cursed himself internally before returning his attention to the other man.
„Henry, I-“, his voice sounded awfully hoarse. Albeit this was to be expected from someone who had just been almost strangled.
James caughed a few times before trying to revive his sentence. But to his suprise he was cut off again by Henry suddenly throwing his arms around him, bringing them both to fall.
Back on their backs on top of the matress. Henrys face buried in James neck. He could feel the still irregular breathing rythmn of Henry, who only slowly calmed down.
James drew him closer to his own body. Firmly laying an arm around his shoulders.
Exhausted he rested his cheek on top of Henrys head. Silence again.
„I´m so sorry.“, Henry suddenly whispered, voice even smaller than before. Almost not to be heard.
„Don‘t be.“, James shortly answered. It wasnt Henrys fault and he knew.
„I just can‘t do this.“, he said. „I know, you want this so badly. But I-“
„I said you don´t need to apologize.“, James interrupted the sorrowful whispers of the man resting on his heart.
„I just want to be like that you know?“, Henry continued anyway.
Confused as to what Henry meant, James lifted his head to look at him.
„Be what?“, he asked bewildered.
Henry pressed his lips together and held a little tighter onto the seam of the collar of James shirt.
He said nothing.
„Henry what do you want to be?“, James repeated his question. He watched the other one, staring at the wall across him. The expression on his face was unreadable in the darkness.
„I want to be, what you want.“, Henry finally admitted and James heart plummeted in his stomach by the words that reminded him too much of something he had heard back then in Silent Hill.
„You are being ridiculous.“, James snapped and Henry raised his head, suprised by the harsh words.
„I guess so...“, he hesitantly said and dropped his head back down on James chest.
James however took Henrys other hand and interwined it with his own. As Henry began to relax completely James planted a careful kiss on his sweaty forehead.
„Absolutely ridiculous.“, he mumbled but recieved nothing but an exhausted sigh as an answer.
Night stood tall over Ashfield heights. The muffled sounds of a few cars passing the street were heard from outside but otherwhise the room itself was quiet .The air felt thick and warm in the darkness. James could not see anything.