Title: Twilight World
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Will LaMontagne/Henry Martin
Fandom: Criminal Minds/666 Park Avenue
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely Will LaMontagne or Henry Martin, unfortunately, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue.

***

Henry sat at the bar inside the Drake, sipping his second glass of scotch and wishing that he was anywhere but here. He couldn't go back to the apartment, not now while he knew that Jane was there; he didn't want to deal with that confrontation just yet.

It had been one of the hardest things he'd ever done to tell her that he thought they should go their separate ways; a part of him still loved her, and always would. He would always be fond of her, but he had to be honest with both of them. He couldn't keep living a lie.

He wasn't in love with Jane any more. He wondered if he ever had been, or if he had just been fooling himself, trying to make a comfortable life by being "in love" with a woman and doing all of the proper things that he was supposed to do with his life.

Those proper things didn't involve having a preference for men in the sexual sense. He'd hidden it for as long as he could, even denied it to himself. But he hadn't been able to keep doing that, not now that he was living here in New York and he felt that he could be himself.

Jane was still furiously angry with him, and very likely always would be. He'd already talked to Gavin about this, and he'd been told that he wouldn't lose his job here at the Drake -- but, of course, now he would have to find somewhere else to live.

Gavin had told him that he was entitled to his own apartment, but somehow, that didn't feel quite right. Henry didn't want to live alone; he'd become too used to having company when he was in his own home. But he couldn't continue to live in an armed camp with Jane.

For now, he was sleeping on the couch -- which wasn't the most comfortable alternative, but at the moment, it was the only one he had. He would ask Gavin about moving into an empty apartment tomorrow, he thought with a sigh. Though it wasn't entirely what he wanted.

He'd come to New York with such glittering high hopes, he thought with a sigh. Now it felt as though he was living in a twilight world, waiting for the beginning of the end, for everything to start crumbling around him. Maybe it was simply time to throw in the towel.

He could either go back home and start all over, or he could pick himself up, dust himself off, and keep going here. That was exactly what he would have to do, Henry told himself, sighing again. He couldn't exactly go back home and pick up where he'd left off.

Henry hardly noticed when a man sat down at the bar next to him; he dimly heard the soft voice ordering a scotch, smiling inwardly when he heard those words. Someone else liked his drink of choice, he thought to himself. Most people he'd come across in New York didn't seem to.

For a moment, he wanted to turn his head to look at the other man, but somehow, that seemed rude. Henry didn't like being stared at; he didn't think that anyone else would appreciate it, either. So he was surprised when the other man spoke, his voice low and musical.

"I haven't seen anybody else drinking scotch since I moved here. Nice to see there's somebody else in this city who has the same taste I do." The voice sounded like dripping honey; Henry could feel a shiver run down his spine as the man's words seemed to curl around him.

How could someone's voice make him react so viscerally? He turned his head to look at the man who sat there, and his breath caught in his throat. He was sure that he'd never seen anyone who could capture his imagination so completely -- or make him want to fall into their arms.

The man sitting beside him was absolutely gorgeous. Henry's first thought was that he resembled the better-looking brother of Adonis, but even that didn't fully describe this man. He couldn't look away from those eyes; they seemed to draw him in, to mesmerize him.

He had never thought that anyone could have what novels described as "bedroom eyes" in real life -- but he did now, told himself dazedly. He was looking into those eyes, unable to pull his gaze away, wishing that they were anywhere but here, anywhere that they could be alone.

He'd never reacted this way to anyone before; he could almost feel his heart surging out of his chest to lay itself at this man's feet. He wanted to lean over and brush his lips across that sensual, inviting mouth; anything to lay claim to this man, to brand him as his own.

"Hi there," the man said, smiling and extending a hand for Henry to shake. "I'm Will LaMontagne. Just moved here from New Orleans, but I guess you can tell from the accent that I'm not from around here." The smile was just as devastating as the eyes.

Henry took Will's hands, unsure for a moment whether he was able to speak or not. "H-hi," he managed to get out, the words almost a gasp. "I'm Henry Martin. I live here. In the Drake. In an apartment. Not here in the bar." He blushed as he spoke, aware that he was babbling.

Will's smile grew, a soft laugh joining it. "You sound nervous," he said, his tone apologetic. "I hope I"m not coming on too strong. You were just sitting here all by yourself, and you looked like you could use a little bit of company. I'll leave you alone, if you want."

Henry shook his head quickly, hoping that Will wouldn't get up and walk away. Leave him alone? That was the last thing he wanted. He wanted to spend every second of every minute of every hour of every day of the rest of his life with Will. He wanted this man by his side forever.

Of course, he couldn't let those words tumble out, but he had to find a way to make himself sound like a rational human being and not a dunce. "I swear I'm not usually so scattered," he apologized with a rueful laugh. "I'm just having a really bad day."

"Want to talk about it?" Will asked, raising an inquiring eyebrow. "I understand if you don't, but I've been told that I'm a pretty good listener. And everybody needs a friend who'll listen. I know that I've needed that a lot, and I always appreciated it when somebody listened to me talk."

"I could use somebody to talk to right now," Henry admitted with a wry smile. "I just broke up with the woman I've been in a relationship with for the last few years -- mainly because I couldn't keep lying to her and trying to pretend that she was the love of my life."

"So there's somebody else who's the love of your life?" Will inquired, arching an inquisitive eyebrow. "That's too bad. I was hoping that you and I could ...." His voice trailed off; Henry could swear that he saw the other man blush as he looked down. "That is, if you're interested."

"I am," Henry said softly, unable ti keep the words back. "Very much so. That's the main reason I broke up with Jane. Because I prefer guys to girls, and I was tired of lying about it. She deserves better than that -- and I finally realized that I do, too."

"Yes, you do," Will said softly, reaching out to place his hand over Henry's. "I know we just met, and this might sound weird coming from a guy you don't know -- but do you want to go back to my place and talk? I'm not trying to hit on you. It just seems like you need a friend."

He wanted more than just friendship from Will, but of course, he couldn't say that. So Henry merely nodded and smiled, hoping that his need to be around Will didn't show. "Yeah, I could definitely use somebody to talk to. It's been a really rough day."

"Whoever the other guy is, he's lucky," Will murmured, raising his glass in a salute. "Wish I'd have found you before he did. Guess I just got to New York too late, huh?" He drained the scotch, his gaze never leaving Henry's face, regret written clearly on his features.

"But there isn't any other guy," Henry blurted out. "I didn't break up with her because there was somebody else. I did it because I couldn't stand trying to hide who I really am any more. I'm single and free -- and you're the only guy I've met who I've been head over heels for."

"That's good news for me," Will told him with a smile, standing up and holding out his hand to Henry. "My place is right here in the Drake. We don't have far to go. I was surprised that I could afford to live here on a cop's salary, but I guess they felt like they wanted law enforcement around."

Henry nodded slowly, wondering just why Gavin had let a cop move into the Drake. They had their own private security; it wasn't as though they needed to have an outside cop living in the building. It was strange, but then again, a lot of things that Gavin did seemed strange to Henry.

But did it really matter? he asked himself with an inward smile. After all, if Will wasn't living here, then they would never have met. He wasn't the kind of guy who would just walk into the Drake's bar like he would any other other bar in the city; it was fate that had brought him here.

The twilight feeling was gone; everything around him seemed to be in diamond-bright, sharp focus now. This was what he wanted; Henry was sure of it, more sure than he'd ever been about anything in his life. He was going down a completely new path, one that he hadn't expected to take.

"Come on," he said softly, draining his drink and reaching for Will's hand as he got up. "Let's get out of here. I've got a feeling that we could both use a friend -- and that we both have a lot of things that we need to talk about." His hand slid into Will's, feeling safe and warm there.

As the two of them exited the bar, moving down the hallway to the elevators, Henry caught a glimpse of Jane standing by the front desk. He couldn't help but notice her scowl when she saw that he and Will were holding hands; she probably thought that he wasn't wasting any time.

Well, he wasn't, Henry thought definitely as Will pressed the call button on the elevator. He was where he wanted to be -- and he was with the person who he hoped would be his future. Whatever that future might hold, he was ready to walk into it with his eyes wide open.

***