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fellowshippers2005-02-09 07:21 pm
amourality.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2005-02-09 07:21 pm
(no subject)
Thank you so much to everyone who's made such nice comments about this series *hugs*.
Title: Never
Author: Ami
Rating: NC-17ish
Pairing: Marshall/Orlando
Summary: Way more angst than I'd intended :/. Sequel to Regardless, Whatever, Endless and Enough.
Disclaimer: I made it up. To my knowledge it never happened.
It felt like suffocation; the air was saturated, flooded with Marshall, every breath filling him with the guilt of the uninvited. It had only been a week but they were in the same city with no hell or high water to cross, no lies to be told, no excuses to be made except for the ones he made to himself. He wasn’t in Detroit for Marshall. Michigin was an unexpected detour that he hadn’t had the chance to argue about. He could have not made the call, he could have at least tried, but this city was Marshall and his resistance had gone.
The first morning kiss had been unbearably soft; still too drowsy to fuck, too comfortable to move, too tired to remember their defences. Their half closed eyes forgot to hide, locked and swimming with every caress of their lips. Warm soft limbs were tangled under the single white sheet Marshall had pulled over them, safe from reality for this short stolen moment.
Their first morning kiss had been perfect and no amount of stupid aborted phone calls afterwards had been able to take that away.
It felt like suicide; every block another slice across his wrists, another handful of pills. Seven days had been too long, but this city knew him, this city gave him nowhere to hide, this city wouldn’t forgive him. Not this time. Not for this. But Orlando was in his veins and not even the soul searing fear was enough to stop him. So he kept driving, cursing every familiar sight that made him feel lost in his home town.
He saw Orlando standing where he shouldn’t have been and he didn’t feel lost anymore. Too many other emotions drained the fear from him, drained the blood from his brain. He pulled over without stopping the engine. There were no words, no smiles, just a long silent look flashing dangerous, desperate desire. Marshall put his foot down and the accelerated through the dark streets, aching to reach out and touch, biting back a thousand half formed thoughts. The dead end of an unlit alley loomed around them. Marshall glanced in the mirror at the cold leather of the back seat and then at the warm brown of Orlando’s eyes.
He turned the key in the ignition.
“What are you doing?”
I have no fucking idea.
“We’re going home?”
“Home?”
“My home.”
“Why?”
Because I’m fucking insane.
“Because. You deserve better than this.”
Orlando locked himself in his house for three days until someone called Viggo. Viggo found him staring at the ceiling in the bedroom, laying on his bed in an over-sized t-shirt and sweatpants. He couldn’t have found the words even if he’d wanted to.
He stood in the doorway of Marshall’s bedroom, leaning against the frame, both hands in the back pockets of his jeans, gripping at the material. Marshall looked up at him and stopped tidying, walking over and pushing the hair from the side of Orlando’s face with a careful hand. Marshall moved in and slid his arms around Orlando’s waist, breathing in the scent of his jaw.
“This can’t go on.”
Orlando swallowed and pulled Marshall closer, brushing his lips to Marshall’s cheek as he spoke.
“I know.”
Marshall vented in his notebook, writing a song no one would ever hear, calm and controlled until Deshaun asked him if it was about Kim and he hurled the book at the wall screaming, “You have no idea how much easier that would fucking be!”
Orlando could still smell Marshall’s sweat on his skin when he left, not waiting to say goodbye, not even waiting for Marshall to come out from the bathroom. Marshall didn’t need to see him cry.
Orlando knew. Marshall knew. Not once a month. Never.
Title: Never
Author: Ami
Rating: NC-17ish
Pairing: Marshall/Orlando
Summary: Way more angst than I'd intended :/. Sequel to Regardless, Whatever, Endless and Enough.
Disclaimer: I made it up. To my knowledge it never happened.
It felt like suffocation; the air was saturated, flooded with Marshall, every breath filling him with the guilt of the uninvited. It had only been a week but they were in the same city with no hell or high water to cross, no lies to be told, no excuses to be made except for the ones he made to himself. He wasn’t in Detroit for Marshall. Michigin was an unexpected detour that he hadn’t had the chance to argue about. He could have not made the call, he could have at least tried, but this city was Marshall and his resistance had gone.
The first morning kiss had been unbearably soft; still too drowsy to fuck, too comfortable to move, too tired to remember their defences. Their half closed eyes forgot to hide, locked and swimming with every caress of their lips. Warm soft limbs were tangled under the single white sheet Marshall had pulled over them, safe from reality for this short stolen moment.
Their first morning kiss had been perfect and no amount of stupid aborted phone calls afterwards had been able to take that away.
It felt like suicide; every block another slice across his wrists, another handful of pills. Seven days had been too long, but this city knew him, this city gave him nowhere to hide, this city wouldn’t forgive him. Not this time. Not for this. But Orlando was in his veins and not even the soul searing fear was enough to stop him. So he kept driving, cursing every familiar sight that made him feel lost in his home town.
He saw Orlando standing where he shouldn’t have been and he didn’t feel lost anymore. Too many other emotions drained the fear from him, drained the blood from his brain. He pulled over without stopping the engine. There were no words, no smiles, just a long silent look flashing dangerous, desperate desire. Marshall put his foot down and the accelerated through the dark streets, aching to reach out and touch, biting back a thousand half formed thoughts. The dead end of an unlit alley loomed around them. Marshall glanced in the mirror at the cold leather of the back seat and then at the warm brown of Orlando’s eyes.
He turned the key in the ignition.
“What are you doing?”
I have no fucking idea.
“We’re going home?”
“Home?”
“My home.”
“Why?”
Because I’m fucking insane.
“Because. You deserve better than this.”
Orlando locked himself in his house for three days until someone called Viggo. Viggo found him staring at the ceiling in the bedroom, laying on his bed in an over-sized t-shirt and sweatpants. He couldn’t have found the words even if he’d wanted to.
He stood in the doorway of Marshall’s bedroom, leaning against the frame, both hands in the back pockets of his jeans, gripping at the material. Marshall looked up at him and stopped tidying, walking over and pushing the hair from the side of Orlando’s face with a careful hand. Marshall moved in and slid his arms around Orlando’s waist, breathing in the scent of his jaw.
“This can’t go on.”
Orlando swallowed and pulled Marshall closer, brushing his lips to Marshall’s cheek as he spoke.
“I know.”
Marshall vented in his notebook, writing a song no one would ever hear, calm and controlled until Deshaun asked him if it was about Kim and he hurled the book at the wall screaming, “You have no idea how much easier that would fucking be!”
Orlando could still smell Marshall’s sweat on his skin when he left, not waiting to say goodbye, not even waiting for Marshall to come out from the bathroom. Marshall didn’t need to see him cry.
Orlando knew. Marshall knew. Not once a month. Never.