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Crazy to think he’d worship the ground he walked on, but he would. He’d kill for him. He’d die for him, and those feelings seemed to persist even after Perseus was stopped.
Adler left him to bleed out there. Bell doesn’t blame him. There wasn’t an ounce of remorse in the mans eyes, Bell doesn’t blame him. He preened under the small bit of praise in Adler’s speech before shooting him. He wasn’t able to detect deceit fast enough, he should’ve. Especially after the MKUltra. All the lies. Bell should’ve seen it coming.. but love does that to a person, doesn’t it?
Blinds them to the obvious wrong that is right in front of them. Love. Love is a violent thing, he realizes. And he’s on the wrong end of it.
Regret takes Bell as he exhales a labored wheeze. He wishes he could’ve told Adler about how he really felt, brainwashing or not. But just as the regret hits him, a dull throb of anger worms its way to his mind. All the lingering touches? The looks? The sex?
”This doesn’t mean anything,” he’d said. After every time, he’d detach from Bell and tell him that it meant nothing to him. But it meant the world to Bell.
If Adler said the word, MKUltra or not, he’d have killed anyone for him. He’d have killed himself if Adler really wanted it. Bell would’ve found some logic behind a request that weighted. Adler always had a reason behind his actions, never acting on impulse or emotion. It was always calculated, he weighed the risks of everything he did.
What was is reason for letting Bell get so close? Sure, Bell consented at the end of the day, but why’d Adler allow it to continue? Surely, he felt the same way.. right? He couldn’t have just wanted to do what he did to keep Bell in line. Not that their relations would’ve reached the ears of anyone other than whatever fool could’ve lurked beyond closed bedroom doors they found themselves in.
Bell closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. Each breath slowly became more and more heavy, harder to take in and hold. His chest felt heavy with emotion and blood. His lungs filled with blood at a steady rate, and soon he’d choke on it and die. Just as Adler had wanted, that was clear. At least he knew the mans intentions in this action.
His mind drifts between a wide array of thoughts, but one memory surfaces.
”Bell, good work, kid,” Adler praised, patting him on the back after he successfully recovered intel that they desperately needed. All they needed to do now was decode the floppy disc. He could do that.
“Thank you,” he replied, smiling from ear to ear. Something about the warmth of Adler’s gaze, praise, and his hand on his shoulder made his stomach so pleasant flips.
They celebrated that night, but Bell couldn’t help but feel out of place.. Again. It’d almost always been this way, unfortunately. The odd one out. Maybe it was because he was Russian.
Everyone retreated for the night, and left Bell sitting in front of the evidence board, examining things. Adler placed his hand on Bell’s back.
“Gonna turn in?” he asked, his eyes darting between the board and Bell’s furrowed brow.
Bell suppressed a shiver at the contact and clear concern in the mans voice, resigning himself to just shaking his head. A reasonable option, compared to what he wanted to do.
“C’mere, you’re tense,” Adler said suddenly, breaking Bell from his thoughts. His tone left zero room for argument as he walked over to his desk, pulling the chair out and motioning for Bell to sit.
He sat and Adler immediately went to work on massaging the stress and tension from Bell’s shoulders. He fought back a groan as he worked out a particularly tight spot right against his shoulder blade.
“Thank you,” Bell muttered, releasing a shaky breath. “I appreciate this.”
“Don’t mention it, everyone needs a little stress relief, no?” Adler replies, and Bell can hear the smile in the mans voice.
His hands are magic, and just for a second, he lets his mind wander to how Adler’s hands would feel elsewhere. That second turned into completely dwelling on it, however, and he soon found himself with a problem.
If he got up, it’d be obvious. And the fact that Adler was still kneading at his shoulders didn’t help.
Unfortunately for both of them, Adler noticed. But didn’t care as he moved his hands from Bell’s shoulders, down his chest slowly. He felt Bell’s now-racing heartbeat and the sharp breath he took as one hand slid down to his stomach.
“Alright?” Adler asked after a moment, not daring to move his hands farther down unless given explicit permission. Bell nodded, perhaps a little too eagerly.
His hand proceeded down, worming beneath Bell’s waistband of his pants and then his underwear, taking his already fully erect cock into his hand. Adler let out an appreciative hum and leaned down, kissing Bell’s neck gently.
The huff of air that left Bell in the form of a whine seemed to spur Adler on, and he began stroking Bell slowly. His thumb focused his tip, smearing the pre that gathered there.
As Bell huffed and moaned, Adler planted gentle, barely-there kisses along the side of his neck and his arm wrapped around Bell’s front. The security only added to Bell’s arousal, and Adler’s strong hand kept a relentless pace.
“Close,” Bell panted, switching between squirming against the chair and arching up into Adler’s touch. He craved Adler’s warm, strong hands everywhere. Bell wanted to live and breathe Adler every second of every day, and if this is his idea of relieving stress, then Bell’s determined to stay stressed for the rest of his miserable life.
“Cum, Bell. C’mon,” Adler whispered into his ear, pressing kisses along the lobe. “Wanna feel you cum, baby.”
His voice, god, his voice. He could’ve cum hands-free if Adler just dirty talked him.
It only took a few pumps before Bell spilled into his pants and Adler’s hand with a deep, pleasured groan. The orgasm took him by surprise by the force of it, maybe he was pent up.
“Good boy,” Adler praised lowly as he milked him through the aftershocks.
Pride and satisfaction filled Bell’s chest at that, and he looked back at Adler. He was met with the hungriest look he’s seen on the man. He looked like he was a starving man being presented a full course meal.
“Adler-“ Bell began, but he was quickly cut off by Adler’s lips on his own. His hand slipped out of Bell’s pants as he pulled away and licked the cum from his fingers.
“Clean yourself up and get to bed, I’ll be there in a few,” Adler muttered before walking off.
He’ll be there? That filled Bell’s chest with something akin to hope. Maybe he did feel the same way Bell has all this time.
Bell opened his eyes, frowning. He sucked in a cold, shaky breath before erupting into a sputtering coughing fit.
“Shit..” he whispered to himself.
Adler came to bed that night, he came a lot, now that Bell thinks about it. But no feelings were verbally expressed. Never were, and Adler was known for that.
His praise was to soften Bell, let him down easy for what was coming.
This, this is what was inevitably coming. No amount of quickies or secret after-mission-smoke-break turned make out sessions would’ve changed that, Bell is sure of it. After all, Adler does things for a reason.
He watches as birds fly past the cliff side, and he can’t help but sigh. So much betrayal and hurt all at once. If he hadn’t been shot, he’s sure he’d have died from that alone.
Slowly, he shifted from leaning against the rock, to lying on his side. He doesn’t know if the blood loss and exhaustion causes him to hallucinate, but he hears footsteps approach cautiously.
“Not dead,” he garbles, spitting up blood. He will be soon, and he’s alright with that.
Bell looked up at the person and realized it was Adler. Maybe he was hallucinating.
Adler brushed hair from Bell’s forehead and wore what looked like a frown as he gazed down at the man. “Didn’t want this for you, y’know,” he sighed. “You did good, Bell.”
He did good. After all of this, Adler still thinks Bell did a good job.
A delirious smile crosses Bell’s face as his vision blurs and blackens along the edges. “Did… ah, did my best,” he managed, giving Adler one last look before the man stood up and left again.
Maybe he hallucinated it, but as he closed his eyes, he was okay with it- with everything. Adler wanted this for him in one way or another, whether he wanted to share the reason or not. And it must’ve been a good reason. Maybe Bell became a liability, he’ll never know.
What he does know, however, is that he is perfectly content with not knowing Adler’s real intent behind shooting him. As Bell’s vision and all sense of his surroundings fades, one last thing crosses his mind; he is perfectly content with curling up and dying right here. Adler wanted it, so he must’ve deserved it.