Title: Locked in a Cycle

Author: Terri

Fandom: Mutant X

Pairing: Brennan/Jesse

Summary: A sorta shoot off from Hard Time. Jesse changes the dynamics in his and Brennan's relationship.

Warnings: My take on Jesse in this may not be the same as others see him, but like I said I've thought a lot about him lately, and I don't think he's as innocent as the makers make him out to be.

Spoilers: Some vague ones for Hard Time.

Locked In A Cycle
by Terri
~*~*~*~

Looking back I can see where it had all started. That one moment when things went too far, would it have changed things if I'd stopped it then? Seen what I was doing? Probably. Maybe. I don't know. All I know is that night I went too far, but he didn't say anything, just took it, sucked it all in.

Maybe I can blame him a little. He's always pushing, wanting to be in charge. I know that it all stems from Brennan's need to protect us, that he doesn't feel in control unless he's the one in the alpha role. I know that. After so long together I'd be an idiot not to know, and sometimes it's nice to know that he cares so much. But others -- it just gets old you know. There's only so many times that you can be pushed back, when Adam gives Brennan the leader role, or I'm left to man the computers as Brennan and Shalimar get to kick ass.

Maybe that's why I do what I do. I don't have the answers myself; don't even ask myself anymore. What's the point? If I'm honest I don't care why I do it. Don't care about excuses or theories. Does that shock you? Innocent Jesse, naïve Jesse, poor little rich boy Jesse -- well it shouldn't, because this Jesse bites back.

I still remember the night when it started. It was just after we'd been in that hellhole of a prison. Brennan claimed not to remember what he'd said, how he threw my vulnerabilities in my face. Maybe he didn't, I don't know. All I do know is a few weeks later I'm in bed with him, impaled on his cock, having the ride of my life. It was the best, hard and fast, pure down and dirty sweaty sex. I was really into it, having my ass fucked over and over. Then, suddenly I just had the image of Brennan in my mind, when he was looking at me in that room, all hateful words and power. Hurting me, using his strength and mutation to dominate and demean me. He meant every word then, I could tell. Sure he was doped with all those steroids, but the words came from inside him. He had to have thought them at one time.

So, he's drawing back ready to plunge back inside me, and I flash back to that time, and I just flip. Twisting away from him, so I'm on top. Looking down, I see a face flushed with passion, hair sweaty,
eyes dilated, cheeks red. Brennan's lips are swollen and he smiles at me, those huge brown eyes somehow transmitting how much he loves me, thinking this reversal of positions is some kind of game.

It's not a game, not now. He changed the rules back at that claustrophobic little room, we just didn't realise it then. But I do now, and my hands tighten a little on his arms, holding them down against the bed. See, in a situation like this I'm as strong as Brennan is, maybe stronger. Hands pinned he can't generate much more than a static shock, and sitting like I am on his legs he can't really move. He knows this, laughing at my mock domination. Shame it's not mock isn't it?

He soon realises that I'm not playing as I mass my hands, doing what I'd longed to do in that arena. His expression becoming uncertain as my solid fingers dig painfully into his arms, so hard, rock against flesh. Harder still, I could break bone if I keep this up, and he knows it, shouting at me to stop, what's got into me?

I know what's got into me. I've regained all that I gave away, my obedience, my position at Sanctuary and submission top of the list. I'm sick of being seen as the weaker one, the one pushed aside. I love Brennan, but I hate him too, for taking what was mine. Looking down I see fear in his eyes, and it empowers me. Maybe I should have stopped then, but I wanted to see this to the end. I could have been cruel, massed while I thrust into him, but I didn't. I just wanted to be the alpha male for once, see him submit to me.

He'd hurt me, with words, fists and electricity; it's only fair that I do the same as I hold him down. Telling him what he said, how he ripped my soul apart, as I thrust into him over and over. He doesn't struggle, not after I start to talk, just takes it silently, looking at me with empty eyes. I get the feeling that my words are hurting him more than my hands and cock could ever do, as I let all my feeling free, verbally and physically.

I feel my balls start to tighten, climax only seconds away, screaming my release as I collapse down onto him. Brennan doesn't move, so still and silent, I should be afraid that I've badly hurt him. But I'm not, how can I be when it took weeks for my own bruises to fade, the ones caused by his own hands? I only feel relief as I pull myself free from him, lighter somehow that he knows now.

Leaning forward I kiss him on his lips, still swollen and moist. Tell him that I love him, because I do, love him so much. That's why it had hurt so much, and he seems to understand that, whispers that he's sorry as I go to get a washcloth, and I know he is. Know that he loves me totally and utterly, that he'd never do anything to hurt me normally. But sometimes his nature gets in the way, the need to lead, to be the strongest, the bravest, number one -- I can't let that happen. Can't run the risk that he'll hurt me or someone else again.

Brennan wears a lot of shirts now, sleeves long enough to cover the bruises on his arms, bruises where I've held him down, massed fingers pressed into his tender skin. They remind him of what he has the
power to do, how easily he can hurt, how he hurt me.

He's never stopped me, never tried to fight back, only looked at me with dead eyes as I take what I need. He knows he was in the wrong, I tell him every time, and the guilt lies heavy on his soul. He believes what I do is some kind of just punishment, and who am I to disagree? So he hides the finger shaped bruises, smiles and laughs with us all, but he knows who's the alpha in our relationship. See I've discovered that I like power, like watching his face as I squeeze harder and harder, and he takes the punishment for something I'd forgotten months before.

Like I said, if I'd stopped it then maybe it wouldn't have got out of hand. Maybe the bone in his arm wouldn't have snapped that time, maybe he wouldn't have to wear long sleeved shirts every day and
maybe I wouldn't have found out that other parts of my body massed could scare him so much more.

I used to be naïve, a push over, but not anymore -- and god help me, I hope someone notices before I kill him one day. Because I love him, and he loves me, I want to see him with bare arms and alive eyes but neither of can stop this sick merry go round. Maybe I could have once, but not now -- it's too late.

end