@agentlucien / agentlucien.tumblr.com
- Catherynne M. Valente, Deathless
Because we all need this sexy motherfucker up on our dashes.
holy sweet mother of eyes
i love how most of them are of his eyes and then ‘sexy car sex’
JENSEN YOUR EYES
I FUCKING CANT
//if anyone had stars in their eyes, it would be this man.
Ilo hung, limp and still, but his heart was hammering hard and fast. He barely managed to stop a gasp when a couple of men raced by and he mentally kicked himself. He’d been in worse situations than this but there was something about being completely dependent on someone else that rubbed him the wrong way.
But it was Owen. And he trusted Owen more than anyone in the world. He, in an act of self-comfort, let his hand brush over Owen’s leg with every step the man took. It was all he could do to not open his eyes wide and look around, look for danger.
The two men managed to get to a corridor with a few bodies, and Owen took a moment to set Ilo down and strip one of the bodies in order to get a better disguise for himself. The suit was a bit big in the middle, but he honestly wasn’t looking for a perfect fit, and it wasn’t like anyone was going to stop them if his suit didn’t look right.
He looked to Ilo, making sure he was okay after being basically held up-side-down for quite a while, smiling as he pulled the man back over his shoulder a little more gently than the last time.
Managing to get out with the rest of the people fleeing the complex, Owen tried to get he and Ilo to a phone booth or something to notify FALCON that they needed some sort of extraction from this madness.
The first hurdle was done with and Ilo was glad when Owen set him down against a wall. He felt the blood rush from his face and he rubbed his forehead with a small grin as Owen switched clothes for an ill-fitting suit. It was definitely an improvement on the bright orange.
'Alley-oop.' Ilo said wryly as Owen hoisted him up again. He allowed himself a sigh of relief when they left the building and Owen stepped into the sunshine.
Ilo's head popped up as Owen searched for a phone. 'Look at you, Mr. Firefighter man; you got us out after all.' He knew he shouldn't but he was feeling rather giddy about being out and about. Obviously there was still considerable danger but the warmth of the sun on the back of his neck and the fresh smell of spring cheered him.
Ilo snorted as he was slung over the man’s shoulder. The jokes. He’d missed Owen so much, the man that was beneath the agent. He’d nearly forgotten how funny he was. He laughed quietly when his face came to be at Owen’s lower back, just above his arse. He laughed to himself and turned his head. ‘Nice view.’
He closed his eyes and made sure to go a little limp just in case anyone spotted them in all the hype. He peeked, keeping a sharp eye out for weapons.
"Shut up and act like a corpse," he said with a small derisive snort. He began to walk quickly into the hallway, looking for the exits that he and Sandalphon had planned to—
Shit, Sandalphon.
He couldn’t go all the way back for them now. He didn’t even know which cells they were in—if they were even in cells. Elijah seemed the kind of man that could talk his way out of anything, and Elisha seemed like the kind of motherly figure that could guilt anyone into anything. They would be fine.
He managed to see the side exit, but pulled back as he saw two armed men run by. They didn’t seem interested in him, however, and he took a breath to steady his nerves before he continued on.
Ilo hung, limp and still, but his heart was hammering hard and fast. He barely managed to stop a gasp when a couple of men raced by and he mentally kicked himself. He'd been in worse situations than this but there was something about being completely dependent on someone else that rubbed him the wrong way.
But it was Owen. And he trusted Owen more than anyone in the world. He, in an act of self-comfort, let his hand brush over Owen's leg with every step the man took. It was all he could do to not open his eyes wide and look around, look for danger.
Ilo snickered and threw his t-shirt at Owen’s face. ‘Is this really the time to make jokes?’ When Owen left Ilo struggled out of the pyjama-like trousers he wore and waited for the man to come back. He sat, content, with a silly grin plastered on his face.
He caught the clothes tossed at him and grimaced. ‘Gross.’ He pulled them on as best he could; the trousers and sleeves a couple inches too short. He sighed and shrugged before smearing a bit of blood over his face and neck. ‘Authenticity.’ He smiled at Owen.
'Alright, I'm ready.' He spread his arms. 'How d'you want me?'
Owen caught the t-shirt and pulled it on over his white wife-beater. He was still sporting the ever-attractive orange prison pants, but he would find a replacement later. Right now, he and Ilo needed to get moving.
"You look good in red," he jested a bit before he took a look at the man and shrugged, "I want you like a sack of potatoes over my shoulder." He hoisted Ilo up over his right shoulder, his arse in the air, making him a bit easier to carry so that he could move a bit faster while having one hand free. He hadn’t even taken the comment as sexual. Owen wasn’t exactly the most sexual man on the planet.
Ilo snorted as he was slung over the man's shoulder. The jokes. He'd missed Owen so much, the man that was beneath the agent. He'd nearly forgotten how funny he was. He laughed quietly when his face came to be at Owen's lower back, just above his arse. He laughed to himself and turned his head. 'Nice view.'
He closed his eyes and made sure to go a little limp just in case anyone spotted them in all the hype. He peeked, keeping a sharp eye out for weapons.
Ilo twisted his mouth and nodded. ‘Alright, let’s try that, then. Might even be able to pick up a couple of guns if we’re lucky.’ He locked his brakes and began to strip down.
'You think we'll need anything else? What about transport when we do get out?' This was no longer an “if” situation for Ilo; he was certain they would succeed. It would probably kill them both if they didn't and Ilo found that he wasn't quite as eager to die as he had been previously.
"If we’re very lucky, Raph. Hope you have a horseshoe shoved up your ass,” he said with a smirk as the younger man started to undress.
"I still know how to hot-wire a car, so hopefully we can even get that far. As soon as we get on the streets of New York, we can figure things out. For now, I’ll try to get you some clothes. Sit tight."
He moved back into the hall, shiv in hand, and cautiously looked for a body or someone he could pull clothing off of. He managed to find a bloodied man in a suit, and ‘finished the job’ before taking his clothes. He got back to Ilo and tossed him the clothes.
"Gonna be a bit sticky."
Ilo snickered and threw his t-shirt at Owen's face. 'Is this really the time to make jokes?' When Owen left Ilo struggled out of the pyjama-like trousers he wore and waited for the man to come back. He sat, content, with a silly grin plastered on his face.
He caught the clothes tossed at him and grimaced. 'Gross.' He pulled them on as best he could; the trousers and sleeves a couple inches too short. He sighed and shrugged before smearing a bit of blood over his face and neck. 'Authenticity.' He smiled at Owen.
'Alright, I'm ready.' He spread his arms. 'How d'you want me?'
Ilo grinned at him, unrestrained and brilliant; just incredibly happy to see the man. ‘Of course I’m with you. I’d be pissed if you had just left without me.’ It was them again, just the two of them, off on another adventure. Of course, this was entirely different but it was still brightening Ilo’s spirits up.
'So!' He tossed the book aside and clapped his hands, almost in glee. 'How are we getting out?'
"This place has gone to absolute shit. Agents shooting agents, at least half the prisoners are out and doing God-knows-what, probably trying to get out like everyone else."
He stood back up, taking a moment to size up Ilo and look back to the door. “Wheeling you out of here would be too obvious. We might be stopped, even if it is chaos out there. Steal a bit of clothing off the dead or wounded, and I could carry you out over my shoulder without a hitch. No one’s going to stop a man carrying a wounded one.”
Ilo twisted his mouth and nodded. 'Alright, let's try that, then. Might even be able to pick up a couple of guns if we're lucky.' He locked his brakes and began to strip down.
'You think we'll need anything else? What about transport when we do get out?' This was no longer an "if" situation for Ilo; he was certain they would succeed. It would probably kill them both if they didn't and Ilo found that he wasn't quite as eager to die as he had been previously.
Ilo could hear the shouting and the gunfire and he pushed himself up, yanking his chair closer and pulling himself into it. He wheeled to the door but the small window was too high for him to look out of. He flinched when a gunshot went off right outside and he wheeled back to the safest corner of the room.
He gasped when an explosion rocked the floor and closed his eyes. He hoped Owen was okay, wherever he was. As the noise died down Ilo let out a sigh of relief; he didn’t know what had gone on but at least the gunshots had stopped. He picked up a book and flipped absentmindedly through it. His head jerked up when the door rattled and, after a moment, opened.
'Owen! How did—what's happening out there?' He wanted to touch, to make sure Owen was alright, but he kept still.
He was almost too relieved to see Ilo sitting in his chair reading a book. He had been worried about Ilo’s state of mind since the last time they’d seen each other, but it looked as if he was doing just fine. He looked healthy enough. Owen’s shoulders visibly relaxed, but he moved over to Ilo quickly, kneeling beside his chair just to get on a better eye-level with the other man.
"I have no idea, but this might be our only shot at getting out of here. Are you with me?" he asked, pausing just for a moment to smile, "Can’t hurt to try again, right?"
Ilo grinned at him, unrestrained and brilliant; just incredibly happy to see the man. 'Of course I'm with you. I'd be pissed if you had just left without me.' It was them again, just the two of them, off on another adventure. Of course, this was entirely different but it was still brightening Ilo's spirits up.
'So!' He tossed the book aside and clapped his hands, almost in glee. 'How are we getting out?'
He woke up to sirens. Owen immediately went near the confines of his cell, peering out to see what was going on. He saw people running down the hall, shouting things that were irrelevant to him at the moment. Well, it seemed irrelevant until he heard the gunshots. He moved back into his cell, and took out a make-shift shiv he’d thrown together. Owen had plenty of experience in prison environments to find the materials necessary for a small concealable weapon.
The explosions were unexpected, even more so when a piece of shrapnel tore through the controls for half the cell-block, making his door open automatically. He was cautious as he looked out from his cell, seeing prisoners run down the hallway recklessly, a few getting shot by agents, a few taking down the agents that shot. Now the prisoners had guns. He waited until the majority of the people had left the hall before he moved towards the upper level to get to Ilo’s containment cell.
Once he got there, he found the floor basically deserted. Apparently the SHIELD agents had bigger problems than keeping tabs on their infirmed inmates. He got the door open after a moment of struggle.
"Raph?"
Ilo could hear the shouting and the gunfire and he pushed himself up, yanking his chair closer and pulling himself into it. He wheeled to the door but the small window was too high for him to look out of. He flinched when a gunshot went off right outside and he wheeled back to the safest corner of the room.
He gasped when an explosion rocked the floor and closed his eyes. He hoped Owen was okay, wherever he was. As the noise died down Ilo let out a sigh of relief; he didn't know what had gone on but at least the gunshots had stopped. He picked up a book and flipped absentmindedly through it. His head jerked up when the door rattled and, after a moment, opened.
'Owen! How did--what's happening out there?' He wanted to touch, to make sure Owen was alright, but he kept still.
I said awhile ago that I was back and it wasn't true; I don't know if I can stay here. Every time I log in it feels like one step closer to losing Ilo altogether.
I may joke that I hate him but I don't; I think I understand now when people say their muses are like family. He's a part of me and losing him would be like losing a limb. I just don't know where I can take him that won't lead to his death.
A love song to my first muse. My most troubled and troublesome muse.
Ilo and I are back!
After a very much-needed hiatus I think Ilo and I can work well together again. I don't feel like he's dragging me down anymore so, for now, we're going to take it nice and slow.
[text] thanks. love you
[Text:] Love you too.
Ilo turned the car into the parking lot of their favourite Indian place. Thirty minutes later and he was pulling into the driveway of their home.
Whistling he opened the front door and kicked it shut, locking it. ‘Angel? ‘M home!’
Ilo exhaled slowly and shakily. He went down on one knee, resting his forehead against her stomach. His own stomach clenched painfully; they’d already lost two babies, he didn’t know if he could survive a third.
His hands came up to rest on her hips and he pressed a kiss just above her bellybutton, brow furrowed and eyes squeezed shut.
Rev sank down next to Ilo, clutching his hands in hers. Her grin had fallen, and her expression had turned serious. “I know…. it’s terrifying. But I’m trying so hard to think positive. We can do this, Ilo. We can.”
Ilo swiped his hand over his eyes. ‘It’s so hard. I want to be happy for this but all I can think of is how to prepare myself—prepare us for losing another one.’
"We be happy now, okay? I don’t want to be terrified the entire time. And….. if we do lose this one…. we’ll figure it out then." She pulled Ilo in for a hug, squeezing him tightly.
Ilo nodded, burying his face in her neck. 'If...if it does go wrong, I can't anymore. I can't. No more natural babies. We can adopt.'
