#bad lovers

Words distract us, but we know the truth, So hush, baby, my heart's speaking to you

Just give me that touch (I want it) Quit talking too much, I'm ready Stop moving your lips and kiss me Keep taking my breath away 'Cause you make me speechless You quiet my demons Swallow me whole tonight and just kill me silently I don't need a reason When you make me speechless We're getting loud tonight, we're allowed tonight to be Come on baby, make me speechless...

Body language screaming everything And keep giving it to me, fire away

When you’re touching me, When you’re kissing me Nothing left to say... 

--- “Stop! Stop!” Dave cut across you, he looked confused and disoriented. “I can’t hear you-! Baby, why can’t I hear you?!” You didn’t like that his voice was panicked. You hated that he was panicked. “Baby you-!” You stopped, could he really not hear you?! Like at all. He clung to you, suddenly “Why can’t I hear you—!!?” You had to get him to calm down, but you also had to get him to hospital... And this was hardly the place to call an ambulance now, was it. How were you about to explain to anyone who showed up here what this club was, why you were dressed like this, how the hell what happened… happened. You pulled him; you had to go and NOW-! Running with him down the corridor, your hand in his you got him outside and to his car. Keys?! Keys...?! Sh*t did he leave them on his desk??! DAVE! You didn’t want to leave him, but you didn’t have a choice; you tugged his hand and sat him down. Clearly still disoriented. You pushed his shoulders firmly ‘stay here’ you pressed your lips to his forehead and then sprinted back to the club, you didn’t think you’d ever made it through a crowd of people so fast. Car keys, wallet, jacket... what else would he need? You swept your eyes over his desk quickly - phone! You’d come back for your stuff later.  You ran back to him, crouching to his level you handed him his things. ‘C’mon lets go’ Where the hell was the nearest hospital?! If there was one thing you damned about Dave’s job in all these small towns it was things like this.  Your driving was more than just a little reckless and you dialled 911. So they could help you out. Meaning eventually, you got him to a hospital. Only, when you looked down at yourself you thought twice about walking in. That wouldn’t have seemed appropriate. He was looking at you fight with yourself long enough for him to hold his jacket out.   “Oh...” you took it from him delicately and slipped it on “Thank you!” He was watching your lips very carefully “You’re welcome...” You still had to pull him into A&E. By that time his white shirt was covered in blood. And you had to do your best to try to explain how, why and where this had happened without a) talking about the club and b) an actual clue. Your best guess was she’s stabbed him. But you understood why Billie would carry a knife somewhere that shady. And boy, if you didn’t know Dave by now. He had his fair share of muses that weren’t you. Billie was one of them. Just by the way he talked about her… * “... Does it really matter if I know sign language if he doesn’t? He’s not mute! But you can tell me words, how do you tell him words?! Is it not something a hearing aid can fix...” You thought about that, his other ear was bad but not completely gone. He’d never quite told you a story with that one though. “All I’m saying is it’s something to think about if he doesn’t regain his hearing.” “And how unlikely is that?” “It’s not looking good.” “Can I see him?” He gave a curt nod, and led you down the corridor. You noticed the way his eyes awkwardly swept you. Making you instinctively pull Dave’s suit jacket tighter around you. Thank God you’d actually finished for the evening and had pulled on shorts. Still, they were incredibly short shorts. You were back in flat shoes; but it was clearly the fact that you were wearing a bustier, almost had your full make-up intact AND the choker around your neck that was intriguing him. The thin strip of black leather was small; but the red buckle made it noticeable. It looked like a collar. For all you knew it probably was one… You bit your lips together and rolled the sleeves of Dave’s jacket up. Definitely not appropriate to wear whilst dragging a man to hospital. You knew what you looked like – hell you knew what you felt like. He tried to clear the air, with an awkward cough; "He’s lucky, if that knife had cut any deeper, or severed any major artery he could have been dead.” That DIDN’T help! You turned to him with a look of almost disgust on your face; "Do you think I really need to hear that right now!?!?!" The doctor walked you into the examination room and told you he’d be back in a minute. You walked across to Dave, sitting with his head down. Even when you stood right in front of him, he didn’t look up. You placed your hands gently on his legs and pushed your head against his. He looked up at you. “Can you really not hear me?” You paid close attention to how you said it. Slow. If he could lip read it was a start. He shook his head “It’s like mumbling... like you’re 5 rooms away from me...” Dave placed his fingertips delicately to your lips; “What if I can’t ever hear you again Y/N? What am I supposed to do if I can’t ever hear you...?” You knew how much vocalisations played into your relationship. He held his fingers there for a second and you watched as his eyes welled up. His tears began running and then he was sobbing. “Dave!!” That shocked you; you didn’t think you’d ever seen him cry before?! He threw his arms around you and pulled you into him. You tried your best not to cry because he was crying. Winding your arms around him and into his hair. “Baby... Don’t cry... Please don’t cry...” you knew he couldn’t hear you, but the reverberations of your voice into his body you hoped were at least calming... At least you hoped he knew the sentiment was there... *** You spent a lot of time trying to figure out the best way to make this easier for him.  And you. You didn’t want your relationship to change because of this. You had to be grateful that he had problems in the first place... because there was a bunch of things, you’d picked up that now you had to work harder on. Dave was good at reading vibration. You could tap his desk to let him know you’d brought him coffee, his glasses, his notebook, a pen, just to let him know you were there, anything...  Now when he talked to you he would press his hands to your chest and watch your lips to see how the vibrations fit to words. So, when he held you and you talked to him he knew what you were saying without watching your lips. But he had no sex drive. And for a relationship that relied so heavily on the physical that was tough for you to get used to.  He would still kiss you, he would still push himself up against you and grind your hips into his. He would still pin your wrists above your head with his hands to deny you from touching him, but, then he would stop, and let you go with a sigh of discontent, rolling over onto his side, back to you. To your dismay, Dave would lay like that until the following morning. You needed to figure out a way to fix this. The doctor had spoken about heading aids. You’d taken matters into your own hands on that one because Dave was point blank refusing to have anything to do with it.

As tiny and discreet as possible. Money wasn’t an issue. And you couldn’t let Dave know. No one could let him know so he couldn’t completely settle into the idea of refusing; alongside your need for it to happen hastily so he didn’t get himself into a depressive state. And Dave would leave you if he thought it wouldn’t get better. He would say it was for you. But you had no doubt he would. It might have been slightly twisted, but you knew exactly how that brain of his worked... and you needed to give him every reason to stay... 

*

Today, you were looking at Morse code. Did Dave know Morse code? It seemed like the kind of thing a man like him would preoccupy himself with learning. You printed off sheet after sheet and stuck them in every room in the house. “Y/N!” He called you into the kitchen; “What are these?” You raced through, so he wouldn’t be kept waiting. You weren’t sure if you were still acting under the Rules of Engagement. You hoped if you showed him you were, he would realise... you wouldn’t leave. He needed you now. “Morse code.” “Yeah. I see that...” He tilted his head gently “I mean why do you have them?” “For you.” He gave a smile “Why?” “Do you know it?” His eyes flicked to the sheet in front of him “I can learn it.” You got closer and placed a hand on his arm to turn him back to you. “Please do…” This was a different kind of physicality now. Touches weren’t meant to tease, or arouse, or warn... They were reassurances, comforting, little gestures to let him know you were there, that you had something to say. “...” He untacked the sheet from the kitchen wall “...I guess it gives me something to do whilst not at the club.” Stay away from loud noises. Well he hadn’t liked that one bit either. But your insistence he listen (ha!) to the doctor on that one in particular made him stay home. You weren’t sure if you were supposed to be hopeful that he would regain hearing. You did know the doctor said it could get significantly worse, or the wound could reopen. You were (obviously) not willing to take a chance on either of those things. Your idea seemed to have an instant effect on Dave’s mood. Maybe that was just because it gave him something to focus on. But it went back to vibrations. That made it sensory again.  It made something ever so slightly physical too. Because he could tap the code into your skin as much he could a table. Or just about anything. It was long though. Overly long, and you were sure there was something less complicated you could try. Still, you liked the way he got amused at you trying to remember exactly how to dot, dash, and where to use the gaps. Every so often you’d slip up and he’d laugh. Sometimes so hard there were tears, and you loved that. You loved screwing up because that was always his reaction. You were supposed to like messing up anyway; there was a thrill to it. There used to be. But this was a different set of Engagement Rules... and these ones had his laugh as a consequence.   That made breaking these new rules your favourite game. The problem was it was hard to concentrate on, and even harder to communicate with it, when he had you pinned back to the bed like this.  But you were desperate for every piece of affection he would shower you with here. You wanted this. You needed this. You craved him. He knew that. All you wanted was for him to tell you what to do. Or tell you what not to do. To tell you how good you were... or even how bad you were... You wanted anything; him to use his nickname for you, him to get you out of your clothes, no matter how he did it.  But it still didn’t work that way. And after about 10 minutes of you trying to believe that his sighs weren’t frustrated, you whined at the feel of him releasing his grip on you.   He knelt up.  Not looking at you, but rather himself. He sighed again and his eyes flicked to the bedroom wall. You held still. Wrists where he’d left them. A little tense... Maybe he’d come back to you... you wanted to show him he could. That that was okay... But, no. He sank back into his side of the bed and turned to his clock. It wasn’t tension that cut across his shoulders; it was something much worse.  Was he disappointed in himself? What was he letting go of? There was something there you didn’t like. And you’d give anything, ANYTHING, you could to hear his thoughts right now. You were too used to what he should be doing to you. Meaning although you were watching him you were still in the position he left you, and you remained that way for a number of minutes. Until you had to relax. He wasn’t coming back; he wouldn’t come back to you. He would lie like this, and eventually fall asleep and that was it. Why did he hate himself so much...? You were suddenly aware there was a tear rolling down your face. No-! What?! You rubbed it away quickly. But you already knew why.  You already knew what was crossing his mind; if he couldn’t be what you wanted him to be... What he HAD to be for this relationship to work the way it did. His only choice was to set you free to find someone else. But didn’t he understand? There wasn’t anyone else! He SHOULD have understood that. You would follow him; you’d continue to follow him everywhere.  You already had. Through all his muses; none of which has outlasted you. If that’s even what you were? No. You wouldn’t stand for this. You wouldn’t let him leave you when you didn’t want him to leave. There was a way through it even if you both couldn’t see it yet. You bit your lip hard to stem your crying. Now was the time to be a big girl. To be the adult you actually were and stop this! You reached out tentatively to wrap your arms around him. He tensed, just a little, but you took the fact he didn’t tell you to stop, physically or vocally to be a sign you could continue. Pushing your chest to his back, you wound your arms around him, resting your head gently against the back of his neck. Dave didn’t react. He didn’t respond. He just remained there. You still didn’t like this. For Dave this wasn’t enough. And you weren’t sure there was anything you could do that would ever be enough. It clicked. Suddenly. And you moved one of your hands tentatively, tracing your fingertips from his front to his back you rubbed gentle comforting circles.  It’s okay. I’m here. No matter what. But you knew he needed more. You took a deep breath. Better not screw this up now. Dot. Dot. “I” His eyes widened for a second. Were you-!? Did you just—?? Dash – the significance of the length told him that was an “L” He concentrated. Was this why you’d made him learn? Dot. Pause. Dot. “O” Your fingertips continued to dance lightly across his back as you gently wrote… Dot. Dot. Dot. Dash. “V” Dave found himself smiling... Oh... Y/N... “E” “Y…” He moved then, snatching your hands in his he pulled you tight to him; “I love you too.” ** You were sitting studying when Dave approached. Squinting over your shoulder. You’d been studying non-stop for days. Any work he had to do now had to be done from home; he hadn’t been to the club or the bank but he was still sitting here running it. Or having you run things back and forth. You certainly weren’t about to let him out of your sight and for once you were desperately waiting for that phone to ring so the bank would call him to any other branch in another town and you could start over again...Hopefully with a week gap. They were always good respite... and always gorgeously vanilla... He snapped you from your concentration “Is that sign language?” You nodded, causing him to drag a chair over and sit down. You watched him for a second, before right clicking the video and throwing up the subtitles, with a little smile. “May I ask why?” You pulled a piece of paper towards you and wrote ‘your doctor said I should start thinking about learning it just in case.’ He scoffed gently at the notion you were spending your energy listening to his doctor. “Which means I have to learn it too, right?” You gave a gentle shrug and wrote ‘it’d help!’ But he was sitting here now, so he certainly wasn’t against the idea... Besides, it was certainly a lot easier than Morse Code. Eventually he smirked “Kinda gonna be hard to communicate with your hands when they’re tied up though...” You hit him with the pen you were holding; /not helpful!/ But he continued to watch with you. And you spent several days following curled up on the couch trying to learn together. It surprised you just how quickly he would pick it up. That he was trying. You wondered if he was doing it for himself… or for you? Now you’d let him know you weren’t going to leave? Maybe that would pick his spirit up enough. Every so often whilst you were lying together like this, or when he had his arms around you at night he would tap gently against your arm – like you had before. Morse code was a much slower way to communicate than sign language though… But it made you beam until your face hurt. Today you wandered into his home office, whilst making the rounds tidying the house. He was a handful at the best of times. It didn’t get any better now. But something about you liked looking after him. He was sat at his desk looking over several pieces of paper, upon which appeared to be printed accounts. Oh-! Bank related. He was chewing on the end of his pen and was propping his head up with his arm. Clearly bank related! You waited patiently for him to look up, which he did, slowly. You gave a smile; and signed How are you? Dave shook his head, with a small smile and put his pen down; it was shaky, but it was incredibly cute to watch I am good. Thank you. How are you? Good. Can I get you something? He paused for just a second, and you could see him trying to remember it in his head. He held up his hands and then stopped. No wait. You wanted to attempt to help him, but he shook his head again, insisting that he had this; C… Coffee. Coffee. You repeated encouragingly. To let him know he was right. He nodded, encouraged to smile; Thank you, sweetheart. You touched a hand to your heart for a second; sweetheart?! Wh… Had he learned that himself!?  You noticed the grin that spread across his face at your reaction. He had, hadn’t he?! Oh… Dave…! He beckoned you over, pushing his chair out a little way and pulled you onto his lap for a second; you were only too happy to oblige this. He kissed you gently. It was chaste. Barely enough… And when you tried to tease another from him, he pushed a finger to your lips and shook his head, with a smirk. Coffee first. Then you’d get more.  Oh. He was taking this THAT seriously??! Maybe he’d figured you’d stay. The way you’d promised and proved that? He was trying to put your relationship back on the track it had been on before... in the only way he could. In any way he could.You had a hard job not smirking. Because that would get you in more trouble. But you did pout; which made him smirk instead and he nodded towards the door; “Go on...” He lowered his voice, dark, deep, plainly seductive. Dave..! You stood and gave a nod, what was the signing for ‘Yes Sir..?’ Would he like that...? Or would he prefer something a little more... unusual. You couldn’t help grinning to yourself as you skipped down the stairs to the kitchen. Maybe soon you’d be able to shimmy yourself out of your jeans and T-shirt again... Finally! 

* I’m not f**king wearing a hearing aid! How old do you think I am?!” You glanced at the tiny little device in your palm and thought he should probably just grow up. You gave him a look that told him such and held it up. “It’s tiny.” “It’s still a hearing aid.” “Well then how else do you hear my voice?” For once he acted like his ‘bad ear’ was fine “I can hear you; it’s just mumbling.” You sighed, exasperated and stepped forward “Try it.” For one, from these past few weeks alone, you both knew how much of a lie what he’d just proclaimed was. “No!” “DAVE!!!” You took his hands in yours, “Please. Baby. For me. Try it for me.” You realised by the look on his face that he couldn’t say no. He turned his head and you smiled triumphantly as he let you fit the tiny device. You stepped back; “Better?” His eyes suddenly went wide in delight “Ha!!” And then he laughed “Yes-! Yes; Oh my God!” He pulled you closer to him cupping your face in his hands; “Keep talking. Baby... just keep...” “Okay don’t cry on me...” Though he looked like he was about to. You placed your hands gently over his and allowed yourself a tiny smirk; “Why don’t we skip the talking...?”