Title: "Lost & Found" Pairing: Ben Wade/Dan Evans Rating: NC-17 Disclaimer: Fiction only. All rights belong to Lionsgate and James Mangold, not me. Summary: Dan and Ben find a way to pass the time. Notes: Written for Allie's Porn-a-thon 2008. Missing scene fic, set in the hotel room after Butterfield leaves to get the marshal. The silence between them stretches into infinity, swallowing them both, so total that when Ben is suddenly there, looming over Dan in the chair, Dan doesn't even have time to think about standing before Ben's straddled his legs, pinning him to the chair. The handcuffs make it awkward, the cool tang of metal contrasting with the incredible heat of Ben's fingers as they unbutton Dan's trousers, closing over his cock, then dragging up, then stilling. Ben's gaze penetrates Dan's very soul, intent, alive in a way that Dan's never been, stripping everything he is from the inside out - all of his insecurities, fears - until there is nothing in Dan's life outside this bubble between them. Ben's breath is hot against Dan's lips, his smile intimate, knowing, and his hand starts to move, slow and sure, thumb pressing just under the head, as if they've got all day, as if Ben really can stop time. Dan chokes out a small, reedy sound, hips bucking shamelessly, and he is, he's shameless for this, for this moment of timelessness, of connection, for the surprising smoothness of Ben's fingers curling tight around him, the rhythm shockingly familiar, but different in a way he knows he'll never forget. The worn fabric of the chair tears under his fingers as he fights against the urge to tangle his hands in Ben's hair and take. Another small sound escapes him, and Ben's soft murmur is grafted against his skin as softer lips graze his jaw, his cheeks. His thighs flex, bunch, testing the weight of Ben above him, hips moving in time with each of Ben's strokes, urging him to move faster, to take more. Ben murmurs again, a soothing sound, at odds with the assured slide of his hand, the rigid slide of his palm, the clink of the handcuffs echoing in the coiled quiet. Dan feels the metal at the base of his cock, feels the glancing graze of fingers feathering along his inner thighs and balls, bites his lip until he tastes the faint copper of blood. His eyes flutter, then fly open when Ben twists his wrist, drags his fist up. He wants to beg Ben to stop. He wants to beg Ben to never stop. From this close, he can count every one of Ben's eyelashes, he can see the flecks of gold highlighting Ben's eyes. The look is one Dan's never seen before - instead of the smirk he'd expected, there's a certain sort of tenderness, a respect that Dan's never associated with himself, even on his best days. Dan loses himself in the look, surrenders to the assured grip as Ben moves faster, coaxes him to climax, the heavy, sticky scent of come mixing with the smells of leather and sweat. And once again, time slows, then stops, another willing casualty to Ben's strength of will. Dan shudders, throat working in a soundless scream and, when he can focus, Ben's soft, possessive smile is the first thing he sees. He tilts his head up, an invitation, another surrender, and finds himself in the first, chapped slide of Ben's lips across his. If you enjoyed this fic, please leave feedback here. Thanks!