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Can't Say	By : yukimajokai Category: G through L > League of Extraordinary Gentlemen Views: 5283 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Can’t Say | Side Story to Raison D’être
A LXG Fanfiction By Majokai Yukiko

Pairing: Skinner/Tom
Warning: Angst, mild fluff and smut.
Rating: NC-17 for the smut.
Timeline: Post movie cannon.

This is an amateur effort and does not intend to infringe
on the rights of Alan Moore, Kevin O’Neil, the filmmakers and their associates.

A/N: Went to watch the movie again with aefallen and
flagitiosus. I could not stay at the café with them to write a round robin and
therefore have got to write them a Skinner/Tom PWP of at least 1000 word length
as penance. (Don’t understand why I have a curfew and they don’t when a) I live
closest to the cinema and 2) I’m not the youngest of the three) Life is unfair.

---

Rodney Skinner was never used to waiting for what he wanted.
Hell, he was not even interested in earning his living. “Finders’ keepers”;
that was the philosophy he had always lived by.

Then again, that was before young agent Sawyer came waltzing
into his life with a rifle gun and a bang. Well, maybe not “waltzing”, but the
impact was definitely made.

For the first time in a very long while, Skinner was
actually glad he was invisible. At least this way, nobody would see the longing
in his eyes whenever Tom came too close, nor would they see the contorted look
of obvious jealousy and anger when the boy tried to play sugar daddy for Mina
Harker.

It was an embarrassment, really, for Rodney Skinner to start
behaving like a fifteen year old around a young boy from the land of Uncle Sam.
He was determined not to let these wayward feelings show. It should be easy,
considering his condition. If only…

“Hey, Skinner.”

“Hey yourself, Tom.”

If only that kid would stop strutting around with those
wind-tousled hair and that absolutely kissable pout on his face!

Tom stood beside him on the deck of the Nautilus, a
disturbed frown on his face. The sea was calm, as opposed to the storm raging
in both their hearts. It was clear as day that Tom was pinning for someone, the
same way that someone else was pinning for him.

“You think I can get a tan if I stay out here long enough?
Nothing beats the tropical sun, does it?” Skinner asked.

“I don’t know, Skinner. But you can definitely try.” The
American boy replied.

Damn, damn, damn. And the conversation died again. If it were
Mina, Skinner would have gone forward to Tom and pinched the lad on his ass.
But no, it was not Mina or anyone of those pretty faces Skinner so loved to
tease, it was secret agent Tom Sawyer, who was unfortunately, someone he
actually cared about.

When had he became such a pouf anyway…

“I’m going back in,” Skinner announced. “Don’t want to pull
a chair out here to tan and end up having Hyde sitting on me because he can’t
see me.”

It had hurt physically and emotionally to stay so close to
the boy. Look, but don’t touch, Skinner told himself. You could never have him.

***

Tom Sawyer tossed and turned in his bed, eyes twitching
violently behind closed lids, too engrossed in his nefarious dream to notice
the other man in his room. Not that it was surprising. With Skinner’s stealth,
one would need the senses of a hunter to catch him.

Rodney Skinner watched in silence, debating whether or not
he should wake the boy up from his nightmares. Perhaps he should, seeing how
heart wrenching it was to see Tom suffer through that pain. But how would he
explain his presence in the room? The American had the irritating tendency to
lock his door at night. How would the invisible man explain that he had been in
the room even before Tom was in it?

Damn, I’m a stalker!

It was raining outside. Any heavier and there would probably
be a storm. That was the downside of tropical weather. You either get loads of
sunshine, or loads of rain. Hell, times like this make any British miss the
London weather. At least it was predictable.

He got up from his seat and settled on doing the next best
thing: closing the windows before it flooded the darn room. Unfortunately for
him, Tom woke up before he managed to do so.
&s]>
Skinner held his breath, watching the lithe body bolted from
beneath the blankets, cast a look in his direction and pulled up his boxers
hastily. For a moment he thought the boy had seen him. Maybe Tom had learned
more from Mister Q than he had let on. His panic fled and was replaced by the
green-eyed monster when the American walked towards the painting facing his bed
and placed his fingers lightly on it.

He had no idea how Tom Sawyer managed to get his hands on
that painting. But he had definitely recognized the man in it. It was Dorian
Gray, the blasted traitor who had framed him for his treacherous acts.

Tom suddenly drew back his fingers with an alarmed look on
his face, pulled on his pants and ran out of the door screaming Mina’s name.

Skinner sighed. The boy confused him tremendously. Who
exactly did he fancy? Mina, or…the gentleman thief gave the painting a gander,
shook his head miserably and exited the room.

***

Rodney Skinner decided the next day that it might be a
bloody good idea to drown his sorrows in sunshine. To others the weather might
have been wonderful, considering the freak thunderstorm the night before. But
to Skinner…

The invisible man pulled out a chair onto the deck and sat
on it naked, bathing himself in the light. Hopefully Hyde would not sit on him.

Or hopefully, someone else might. He smirked.

***

It had been two days. Two days since he had watched and
guarded Tom’s sleep like a father. No, not a father. Considering what he wanted
to do to the boy, calling himself father would be perverse. Then again…since
when was he not?

He could not be around the past two days. Skinner might be
invisible. But one could definitely smell him out if he went prancing around
the entire ship smelling like Aloe Vera. Mina had taken the effort to make his
lotion terribly strong so that at least for two days the League could simply
sense his presence even if he were naked. Especially so if he were naked.

Skinner always noted with pleasure that the boy sleeps
naked. He loved the way the sheets twisted around those slim hips like a lover,
caing ing his soft skin, exposing enough just to tease.

Bloody hell, he wanted to be those sheets!

He was growing mad, no doubt about it. Nobody in their right
mind would be jealous of one’s bed sheets. Then again, nobody in their right
mind would sneak into somebody else’s room in the middle of the night either.

There was something strange with the boy that night. The
handsome face was flushed red; droplets of sweat decorated his feverish skin.
That gorgeous mouth fell open slightly as the American panted breathlessly. For
a moment, Skinner thought Tom might be having a nightmare, until the sheets
twisted just a little more to reveal his erect manhood.

Not a nightmare then.

Skinner crawled onto the bed. He had no idea what he was
doing. What if Tom woke up? Would this be worth it? This forbidden stolen
moment?

The answer was yes. He was not a thief for nothing.

He grabbed his fingers around the American’s member,
relishing in its velvety feel. Above him, Tom moaned.

Whoever you are, you are darn lucky to have the whelp
dreaming of you like this.

The tip of the penis glistened with pre-cum. Skinner lowered
his head and gave it a tentative lick. It tasted of apple cinnamon. Fresh, but
with a touch of spice; just like the way Tom himself was.

Skinner growled despite of his intention of staying as
silent as he could. He looked up at Tom. The spy was still in deep sleep,
dreaming of his phantom lover. The thief grinned. It was probably time for him
to gag himself.

He took him to the back of his throat. It had been a long
time since he did that. But Skinner was glad a blowjob was like riding a
bicycle, you never really forget how to do it once you learned the skill.

Tom crept his hands to hold Skinner’s head in place. Was his
dream lover doing this to him too? Skinner wondered.

He massaged the lad’s thighs and legs as he sucked. Another
hand came round to hold his hea pla place as Tom thrust his hips up into that
warm wet heat. The boy would not last long, Skinner thought triumphantly. It
pleased him to no end that he was doing this to the boy, making him throw his
head back in pleasure, exposing the neck that was just made for love bites. It
was taking Skinner all shreds of control not to leave his mark on the boy. This
was one stolen night. There was no need to leave the boy with any visible
evidence of it.

Skinner felt the flesh in his throat tighten, as it was
about to spill its load. He sucked harder and clenched his throat muscles
around the erection. Tom came with a scream.

“Oh God…DORIAN!”

The invisible man swallowed the American’s cum and let the
limp member slipped from his mouth. He stared from the boy on the bed to the
painting on the wall. So, it was him. Skinner thought bitterly.

The taste of Tom was still on his lips when he walked out of
the room, leaving the secret agent to his dreams. This was all it was. He told
himself he would not get upset. He should have expected this. He never planned
on hearing his own name cried out in pleasure from the boy’s lips. He just had
not expected hearing somebody else’s either.

Before he closed the door, he thought he saw Dorian Gray
wink at him from the canvas. Skinner shook his head and made his way back to
his room.

Time to get acquainted with his right hand.

+++

The End
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