Something a litte different since it's Halloween.
Pairing/characters: Connor, Ryan.
Warnings: Mild language.
Disclaimer: Not mine. ITV and Impossible Pictures own them.
Word count: approx 500
Summary: Connor should have listened to Ryan.
Connor hunched into his jacket against the cold October evening as he headed down the street to Ryan’s flat. It wasn’t the cold weather that was making him angry, though.
How could Ryan do this? Just call and blow him off like that when they had arranged to go out together? Was it something he’d done? Had Ryan suddenly gone off him or something? Everything had seemed fine when they went to the cinema three nights ago, so why the sudden about turn?
Connor stopped outside Ryan’s door. He was sure this was the one, even though he’d only been here once. Ryan had told him not to come round, and he hesitated for a moment before he made a decision. To hell with it. He’d come this far, he wasn’t backing down now.
It took three attempts of banging before the light came on in the hallway and the door opened. Ryan looked tired, and more than a little pissed off.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded.
“Trying to work out what the hell is going on with you. With us. If there even is an ‘us’ any more.”
“I told you not to come here.” Ryan’s voice was hard, and his eyes seemed cold.
“I don’t care,” Connor all but yelled. “You think you can just call and dump me like that with no explanation? No reason at all? Because you can’t.”
“Just go.” Ryan tried to close the door but Connor lunged forward and stuck his foot in the way, and shoved the door open again.
“At least give me a bloody reason, Ryan.”
“Because I’m not safe.” The words were quiet, so quiet Connor almost didn’t hear them.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, honestly bewildered.
“Something’s happened to me, Connor. I’ve changed. I don’t want to hurt you. That’s why you can’t be here.”
Connor felt his anger starting to dissipate when he heard the pain, and fear, in Ryan’s voice.
“I don’t understand,” Connor said. He reached out but Ryan backed away, and Connor let his hand drop again.
Ryan’s voice suddenly sounded deeper, harsher. His eyes left Connor and he appeared to be looking at something over Connor’s shoulder. Connor hesitated, and glanced round to see what it was. There was nothing there, just the street, and the bright glare of the full moon rising over the house opposite. He looked back at Ryan, now even more confused than ever.
Abruptly Ryan’s hand snatched out and grabbed Connor’s and dragged him close. Connor felt a sharp pain in his wrist and wondered for a moment when Ryan had let his fingernails grow like that.
Or when his eyes had become yellow.
“You should have gone when I told you,” Ryan said, his voice a low, guttural growl. He snarled. Connor tried to pull away, but the soldier was too strong. Far too strong. Ryan yanked him close again, and his smile became a hungry, feral look that showed too many teeth.
“How fast can you run, Connor?”