I'll Roll Away Alone
Jan. 1st, 2005 09:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
horseboykarlKarl: I'm drifting in that pleasant world between sleeping and waking, feeling relaxed and contented. I haven't slept this well in weeks, perhaps because I'm curled around another warm body. Mmm, when did this happen? Maybe I'm still dreaming.
My dick hardens with my usual morning interest and my hand slides over solid muscles. Nice. I inhale, smelling sex and male arousal. He is breathing the slow deep breaths of someone far into sleep. His back is to me and I run my lips across a shoulder blade, letting my hips give a slow grind against him. His breathing changes slightly and I smile, hoping he has the same idea I do when he wakes up.
Funny, though, I really don't remember going out last night.
Paris: Mmmmm … dreaming … warm lips on my back … hard cock grinding against me ...
Dreaming or not, it feels so good so I let myself drift on the edge of waking, moaning a little as strong hands slip over my skin, arching my back to encourage those lips to move onto my neck, pushing back against the erection that's sliding along the cleft of my ass.
Strange, I don't remember Dave arriving before I went to bed last night … must have let himself in …
Karl: Whoever he is, he's bloody responsive to my touch and my interest goes up a notch. I run my hand around his waist, searching, finding a truly impressive erection in my hand and I stroke him, earning a lazy moan. I don't know where the condoms are and I don't want to break into this slow, morning haze of desire, so I content myself with sliding my cock between his thighs, my pre-come providing enough lubrication.
I shift him slightly so that my other arm can reach his chest. My fingers wander across a nipple ring and I pull on it and he arches against me, moaning for real now. Interesting. My breathing is getting shallower now, too, and I thrust against him harder.
Paris: His slippy cock moves between my legs, rubbing over my balls … that's new … are we out of lube …? He fists my erection, and this is heaven, Dave doing all the work, although he must have changed his aftershave cause he smells different … maybe more than that … the touch on my nipple ring sends jolts through me … and his thumb grazes the head of my cock and I stop thinking, his thrusts faster, harder, and I reach round to bury my hand in his hair as I crack open my eyes … and this isn't my bedroom, it's Theo's room. What are we … but the hand working me is relentless, bringing me closer to the edge …I gasp out "Dave!" and grasp the silky strands of his hair in my fingers … silky hair? Dave doesn't have silky hair … but it's too late for that
to matter.
Karl: The body in my arms is pulsing and squirming and moaning incoherently, and he's driving my over the edge with it. My sight is getting blurry and I'm just riding with it, thrusting myself against him, the friction of the fine hairs on his legs a perfect scrape against my cock, his muscles holding me in place. I rake my lips over his neck, trying desperately not to bite him and then his balls draw up and he fists his hand in my hair and I'm done. My hips jerk spasmodically against him and his hot cum covers my hand and he gasps my name. My orgasm crashes over me and I'm holding him against me so tightly, riding out the last of it.
And I take a deep breath and realize it wasn't my name that he called and I freeze. I slowly and carefully pull away from him, afraid to breathe, and I turn him towards me, and I'm lying there above him and he's under me, and I haven't seen him in years.
And the last time I saw him, he was wearing pasty dead-looking makeup, not this rosy, flushed just-been-fucked look. And my blood runs cold. "What the fuck? Paris?"
Paris: By the time I'm awake enough to realise it's not Dave who's got my cock in his hand, it's too late to stop what's about to happen, and I come hard, held firmly against a muscular chest as he pumps between my legs and I have to admit, whoever it is feels pretty damned good against me.
But before I can put this all together and come up with an answer as to why there's a strange guy in Theo's bed with me, he rolls me over and I'm staring up into unmistakable eyes. "Karl." I stare at him for a second feeling the blood drain from my face. "Karl, what the hell are you doing here?" This is now officially freaking me out.
Sitting up, I back away, needing a little distance. "How did …?" I quickly go over what I did last night in my head, and none of it could possibly lead up to this!
You're still staring at me, and I'm hoping you have some idea of how we got here. "Karl, mate, how did we end up …" I trail off, really not sure what else we did do.
Karl: I pull away from you abruptly, pulling the sheet up to cover myself, ridiculous really, when you consider what we've just been doing. Oh fuck, oh fuck.
"How did we end up . . . what? I don't even know where the fuck I am! I haven't seen you since Rings and then I wake up all curled up lovey-dovey with you like we've been fucking each other senseless!"
As I move, I realize that I have a few more aches and pains then I last remembered. My shoulder is throbbing, and, oh god, so's my ass. I twist around to look at my shoulder and see a perfect bite mark on it.
"Oh shit, we have been, haven't we? You fucking bit me!"
I desperately try to connect this morning with last night, but it's not working.
Paris: I can't believe you're mad at me! "You're in my house, and I have no fucking idea how you got in here!" At the accusing look in your eyes, my own anger rises. "And I didn't fucking bite you!!"
"Last night I came in from work, ate leftover Chinese, hit the shower and crashed. In my bed, across the hall. The next thing I know, I'm waking up in Theo's bed …" I wave my hand wildly in the air "… with you!"
My eyes flash as they meet yours. "Don't you think I'd remember if we'd been fucking each other senseless?" I would … wouldn't I? That thing at Dave's last week, sleeping through an early morning session … no, that was totally different. At least then I was in the same bed as I fell asleep in, with the same guy. Just when I think things are settling down, Wellie pulls a Twilight Zone on me.
After a quick fruitless glance round the floor for my clothes, I decide to stay put, still sitting half in bed, and the weariness that's been hanging around me these past few weeks defuses my anger. Running my hand through my hair, I look up at you. "I thought you were Dave."
Karl: You thought I was Dave. The full horror of the situation finally hits me. It was Dave's name you called as you came. You are Dave's lover. And I've been doing . . . what? . . . with you.
I tremble, feeling a hundred years old. Bloody fucking hell. The day at the beach. Dave and I have just got to the point where we are friends without shadows between us and now this. I am the most fucked up person on the planet. I promise to be friends with him and then I go out and seduce his lover, even though I don't remember doing it. I am that twisted that I can't let him have his happiness if it's not with me.
I try to speak, but my voice has deserted me. Finally, I look at you, trying to apologize "I . . . I don't know where I am. Or where you lived. I wasn't even drunk, just had a beer with dinner. I went to bed last night, in my own bed, that's the last thing I remember. Whatever happened, whatever I did to you, I'm sorry."
As I look away from you, trying to find my clothes, something else you said . . . "Wait, who's Theo?"
Paris: As soon as I mention Dave, the fight goes out of you, and the hand holding the sheet around you shakes slightly. Shit! Dave's been telling me for weeks how glad he is that you're back, and how you're good mates, and that I should get to know you better … don't think this is quite what he meant. This morning is just getting
better and better.
But you've gone from raging to apologising in seconds, and the guilt flowing off you is incredibly strong. There has to be some explanation for this. "Look, if you went to sleep in your bed, and I went to sleep in mine, and neither of us can remember getting up to go out on the pull in the middle of the night, there has to be something
else going on here." Nice logical statement for a totally whacked out situation. "I know you're not lying, and you have to trust that I'm not either … Theo? He's my …"
I hesitate for a moment, not wanting to add shifting to this morning's madness if you don't already know about it, but I'm certain that Dave said you do shift, so … "He's my shift. Théodred, remember? Éomer's cousin?" Your eyes widen, and I sense another mood change coming on. "He's rarely here, but when he is he spends a lot of his time with … let's just say I'm happier if he has his own bed!"
Karl: You shift? You fucking shift! The ice around my heart grows colder and my rage is turned inwards. Everything goes cold, my hands are numb and my mind is frozen. And I know what has happened, what my sick brain has conjured. The blonde bastard got through. That will never fucking happen again, I'll die first.
OK, I've got to get out of here, but first I've got to find out what sort of story you want to spin here. I'll back you up, mate, whatever it takes to get you square about this with Dave. "Théodred's room? How nice for him. How can you tell when he's been here?" And did he and his cousin sit down and have a good laugh about how they could screw us over?
Paris: I don't miss the sarcasm in your voice, but Jay being a mate, it's stepping back into weirdness to think of them in my bed and it's not like I haven't got the room.
"He only ever shifts if it's arranged." I can see you don't believe me. I shrug and let you know what I can. "It's not a straightforward shift. He's bound to someone here, and it sorta tears their souls apart when he leaves, literally, so Theo doesn't like to shift in, knowing what it does to … to the guy he's bonded to. He's only been here once in the last four months, back in October."
Karl: That's different. Too bad there's nothing keeping Éomer away, not that he'd have the decency to stay away if he was hurting someone, but it doesn't matter anyway. I'll root him out of my head . . .
This isn't helping. Focus, Urban. "Are you present when he shifts? I mean, do you know what he's doing when he's here?"
I struggle and decide to just lay it out. "Was he here last night . . . did he arrange to be here? Is that why you can't remember?"
Paris: "No, I sort of pass him as I slip out, and he slips in, and when I slip back in, it feels like time hasn't passed while I've been gone." No need to go into the pure bright light. "And I know for a fact that if he had shifted in, it wouldn't have been you I woke up with."
If he had shifted in … something nags at the back of my mind. The last time I looked in the bowl nothing happened … but what if it did? I've been so exhausted, working 12 hours a day week in week out will to that to you, so I've been putting a lot down to that. My jacket in a different place to where I thought I'd left it, t-shirts in the wash I can't remember having worn lately. Guess I haven't been paying enough attention to my own life. I can't quite get my mind to think on the possibility of another shift yet.
My heart's pounding hard, and I've got to … got to what? Standing up, not really caring that I'm still naked, cause you've already seen everything anyway, I head off over the hallway, pull on a pair of sweatpants and grab my cell before heading back. "I have to make a call, and I'm gonna make some coffee. You want one?"
Karl: I avert my eyes as you stomp out, don't know why really, still trying to pretend . . .
I find my clothes in a pile by the doorway and pull them on hurriedly, following you. "Coffee would go down treat right now, maybe clear my mind."
As I follow you, I try to explain what a butthead Éomer is. "Théodred might not sleep around on whoever he's got here. But Éomer delights in doing this to me. He shifts in when I'm too weak to fight him off, and then he leaves when I'm in some sort of awkward situation. There was the one time I came back into a lockup. Demolished a bar evidently. And you wouldn't believe the different beds I've woken up in, but I usually manage to get out before the other party realizes they went to bed with one man and woke up with another."
I'm trying to explain, hoping you'll forgive me. Just this once I'm willing to use whatever excuse I can. "But the thing is . . . he's never done it with anyone I know before . . . or anyone with a shift. It just makes me wonder if he ran across Théodred and they . . . "
Here I trail off, my mind boggling a bit at what I'm suggesting.
Paris: "They what? Fucked like rabbits all night?" The first thing I see downstairs is a pile of my clothes strewn around by the door and I roll my eyes with a sigh, leaving the debris where it is for the moment.
"I was arrested for assault after Théo took down a doctor and an orderly when he saw Théoden in hospital. That wasn't fun, one minute being pulled over for speeding, the next being pushed into the back of a cop car. But I can understand his reasons for doing it. He's pretty wild, but knowing what he has here helped me get used to shifting. It's not like he was screwing around using my body, wearing my face, but this …"
You follow me through to the kitchen, and sit down on a stool while I stick a pot of coffee on and feed Giz, then rummage round in the fridge, digging out a pile of fruit for us to munch on. Your relationship with Éomer sounds totally different to the friendship
I've got with Théo. "You fight him off?" You look so crushed, as if this was all down to you. "This isn't your fault, Karl. If Faramir leaves me with bruises after a sparring match, I don't blame Dave, I just make sure I get the better of his Gondorian ass the next time."
I pour out a couple of coffees, quickly checking in with Théo, who swears he hasn't been here, and sounds hurt that I'd think he would do that, before phoning Jay. "It's Paris, sorry mate, did I wake you up? This is gonna sound like a weird question, but are you okay? No blinding chest pains? No? Good. *pause* Nah, just a nightmare, pretty realistic one … no, he's fine, just spoke to him. *pause* Yeah, we do need to catch up, I'll give you a ring later in the week, maybe head down the pool hall? Okay mate. Speak to you then."
"Okay, so it's not the Théo I know, but since shifting is the most likely explanation as to how we ended up … where we did, I think that means there's another one around." Suddenly I'm wishing there was something stronger than coffee in my hand.
Karl: I take the coffee you offered me and your cat jumps into my lap, kneading and purring. I focus on that, rubbing his fur, trying to hold on to that instead of screaming. Not my fault? Of course it's my fault! He is part of me, the sick part of me that apparently went out and fucked you.
And now you are telling me . . . what? That your own personality just added another. You clearly believe this stuff, and I'm not going to tell you my psychological theory, we all have our own ways of dealing with this.
"Another one? How is that possible, I thought you played just his part in the movies, not like Lawrence or the others."
And then the critical question for me. "What are you going to say to Dave? Or not say? I'll do whatever you want."
Paris: "No, not another character, another Théodred. Hugo has a couple of Elronds, and I think Viggo's had some interesting shifts so it's possible there could be two of them." I let out a sigh. "I looked in the bowl more than once. Not intentionally, believe me."
I tell you about Ise and ending up in Craig's garden and the Entling. "But nothing happened, not like the first time, so I didn't tell Dave. He has a hard time feeling responsible for all of this anyway, and I didn't want to land him with something else to worry about. But if there's a second shift around, he needs
to know. And he needs to know the truth."
Karl: I get up, unable to be still, rudely dumping your cat off, but this talk of other shifts makes me uncomfortable. Tell Dave. Tell Dave the truth. Right. Fucking hell.
I gesture helplessly to you and back to me. "And about this? What we did . . . whatever we did." And I wonder again just what happened, my butt is sore and I apparently took it in the ass and I've never done that before.
I still the nervous movements of my hands, putting them in my pockets, closing around something . . . I pull it out and it's three condoms, in their foil, still together.
"Oh shit!" I stare at you, my eyes horrified. I don't remember seeing any used ones up there, in that room. "What the fuck did we do?"
Paris: Giz huffs and walks away with his tail in the air while I pour us more coffee, something I really need, even though you seem hyper enough without it. I thought you had been doing this shifting thing for a while, so I'm surprised at how bothered you are by it. "Look, Dave and I split up a while back because I found out some things he'd lied about, and I don't ever want him to go through what I went through. So I'm not gonna lie to him, and besides, it's not as if we spent the night fucking each other's brains out, all we did was … what happened this morning, which is sort of understandable, given how we woke up. I'll talk to him." Not a conversation I'm really looking forward to, but he needs to know.
At the horrified look on your face, I put my mug back down on the bench and walk towards you. I don't know what to say, how to calm you down. I don't know you well enough. And there's something about this that we're seeing differently, but at least I can reassure you on one point. "Not that it's much consolation, but I get tested regularly, and my last test was clear. What about you?"
Waiting for your answer, I try to look on the bright side. "And I don't know if I wanna know all the details of their family reunion last night. It's not as if our bodies haven't both done all this before, right?" Umm. "Right?"
Karl: I take a deep breath, trying to calm down, appreciating your attempts to be rational, but I want to break things. "Yeah, yeah, my tests have all been clear, I'll get it done again just to be sure."
But then you ask me if my body's used to it and I lose it. "No, I've never fucking done that before! I don't . . . ! He gets my body and he uses it however the fuck he feels like it! Without my consent! And so, yeah, I fucking fight the son of a bitch off!"
I'm screaming at you and you're starting to look worried. Shit, add this to the tally of ways I've screwed up this morning.
I slide to the floor and put my head in my hands. "Shit, Paris, I'm sorry, mate, I just . . . "
Paris: I can see now how hard you're trying to hold it together, and when you let go, it's pretty spectacular. And totally understandable. But seeing you crumple like that …
I don't know how you'll take it, but I can't just let you sit there, so I join you on the floor, and put my arm around your shoulders, pulling you towards me. "I'm sorry Karl, I didn't know. And yell all you like, I'd be pretty pissed off too."
You remind me of Jay when I first met him, wound so tight with a rage at the world that kept bubbling to the surface. Guess moving to Wellie turned out to be a good thing for him, but I have to wonder if it's gonna be a good thing for you, having Éomer so close to Theo, and how the hell is that gonna affect us?
Karl: Part of me wants to let you hold me, to take the comfort from you that you seem so adept at offering. I've never met anyone like you, so good at staying centered, so rational without being condescending. I guess I never really knew you before.
I give in briefly, snuggling against you, but I suddenly remember how all this started and pull away. I've done enough to you, I can't accept this from you.
"Uh, Paris, I think I've abused your hospitality enough for one morning, I should be going."
I still don't know where I am. "Any idea where Éomer could have run across your shift? Maybe I can figure out where he parked my ride."
Paris: I feel you relax against me, just for a moment, before pulling away. So standing up, I grasp you hand and pull you to your feet. I'm thinking you really need to talk to someone about this, get it out of your system, but maybe Dave would be better than me.
"No, but there's a couple of bars down by the harbour, maybe they met up there?" There are a couple of real dives I've driven past, but never had the urge to visit. Wherever it is it can't be far, not if all this happened between me falling asleep late last night and waking up this morning feeling like I've had a decent night's sleep.
"Give me five minutes to grab a shower, and we can take a ride down there. I've gotta head out to work anyway."
Karl: I agree and wait for you, oddly grateful now that it was you I woke up with. I'm amazed at your easy acceptance of this craziness and your willingness to help the man who molested you without asking first. I'm not sure that anyone else I know would be so decent about it.
I pace the floor, staring out the windows, trying to figure out a way to lock the blonde fucker out of my head for good.
You appear in record time.
"I have a bike and a truck. He could have taken either." Although, I wonder where he learned how to drive. But that's just evidence that my theory is correct, and he is just me, not anyone separate. I say a silent prayer that he didn’t decide to ride Smokey Joe into Wellington and then just leave him somewhere.
Paris: Grabbing my jacket on the way back down the stairs, I pull my wallet out of the jeans that are lying on the floor slipping it in my back pocket, and kicking them to one side until later. Heading back through the kitchen, I stop to scribble my cell number on a piece of paper. "You ever wanna talk, or just grab a beer, give me a call."
Stopping by the back door, I hand you a spare helmet which turns out to be a good fit. "He can drive? Now that is a truly scary thought!" I wonder if I should start shackling Leelu up and hiding the key. You still look miserable as hell, so I slap you on the arm with a smile.
"C'mon mate, let's go find your ride." Pushing open the door, we head off into the early morning sunlight.
Karl: I pocket the paper with your number on it and then realize I'm a fucking idiot. My keys are in my pocket. I suppose I was so freaked out by the condoms that I didn't think to check for anything else. So I turn them out. There's some bills wadded up, few pieces of change. A comb.
"Too bad the bastard didn't pick up a match book. Ah, I guess with the smoking ban, no one's handing them out anymore."
I jingle my keys, "We're looking for a Harley Softail. Would any of those bars you mentioned appeal to a horseback-riding barbarian maniac?"
Paris: "That should be easy to spot." I'm just hoping no-one saw it last night and decided to take it for a ride. "Well, there is one, a real dive, right down on the harbour a few streets over. It's called the Ship, I think. We could start with that one. It's not like there's a Nag's Head or a Bay Horse around here!"
Doesn't take long to get Leelu out on to the street, and I start her up, giving the engine a couple of minutes to warm while I lock the yard. Mounting up, I rev the engine a little, surprised that you don't climb straight on behind me, I glance back over my shoulder. "Karl, you coming, mate?"
Karl: I didn't even think about it when you handed me the helmet. We're gonna take your bike. And that means . . . shit. The last thing I need this morning is to have you wrapped in my arms again. I barely even know you and I feel like you've been imprinted on me somehow. One more thing to add to the list of reasons why I hate horseboy, one more thing that is out of my control. My nerves feel like they have been scraped raw by my veering emotions since I woke up, what? . . . one . . . two? hours ago. I've had to deal with entirely too much crap this morning.
You're looking at me oddly. "Yeah, yeah, just getting my bearings." Not entirely a lie.
I swing my leg over behind you, careful to keep myself back as far as I can, not touching you, my hands gripping my thighs. Trying not to remember how we were when I woke up. Hoping the ride is a short one.
Paris: As soon as you get on and your legs go round me, I get a vivid reminder of how this all started, and I'm kinda glad you keep your distance. If it was anyone else sitting right at the back of the seat like a total novice, I'd have reached behind and pulled you closer, but in this case, I think you're better off where you are.
I head straight to the Ship, and sure enough, there's a Soft tail parked outside, looking none the worse for having spend the night there.
You're off the back like a shot and straight over, checking her out just like I would be in your position. "She okay?" You give me a relieved nod, and I think it's time for me to go.
"I better get going. See you around mate." Slipping her into gear, I give you a wave and take off up the street, heading for the site.
Karl: The bike's there in one piece, don't see my helmet. Paris rides off and I'm finally alone. I slump over the handlebars, suddenly bone deep exhausted. What the fuck am I going to do now?
My life has spun out of control and this is so much more serious than the random club kids. I've lost my best friend just cause my split personality can't keep his dick in his pants.
Finally, I start the bike. Nothing to do but go home. I don't enjoy the ride like I usually do, feeling like I'm dead inside.
I'll lock the blonde fucker out of my head . . . he'll never see the light of day again. Part of me, the part that likes to roam the night, that likes wildness, wails at the loss of him. But the rest of me, the daylight Karl, ruthlessly gags that little voice. I'll never let him out again.
My dick hardens with my usual morning interest and my hand slides over solid muscles. Nice. I inhale, smelling sex and male arousal. He is breathing the slow deep breaths of someone far into sleep. His back is to me and I run my lips across a shoulder blade, letting my hips give a slow grind against him. His breathing changes slightly and I smile, hoping he has the same idea I do when he wakes up.
Funny, though, I really don't remember going out last night.
Paris: Mmmmm … dreaming … warm lips on my back … hard cock grinding against me ...
Dreaming or not, it feels so good so I let myself drift on the edge of waking, moaning a little as strong hands slip over my skin, arching my back to encourage those lips to move onto my neck, pushing back against the erection that's sliding along the cleft of my ass.
Strange, I don't remember Dave arriving before I went to bed last night … must have let himself in …
Karl: Whoever he is, he's bloody responsive to my touch and my interest goes up a notch. I run my hand around his waist, searching, finding a truly impressive erection in my hand and I stroke him, earning a lazy moan. I don't know where the condoms are and I don't want to break into this slow, morning haze of desire, so I content myself with sliding my cock between his thighs, my pre-come providing enough lubrication.
I shift him slightly so that my other arm can reach his chest. My fingers wander across a nipple ring and I pull on it and he arches against me, moaning for real now. Interesting. My breathing is getting shallower now, too, and I thrust against him harder.
Paris: His slippy cock moves between my legs, rubbing over my balls … that's new … are we out of lube …? He fists my erection, and this is heaven, Dave doing all the work, although he must have changed his aftershave cause he smells different … maybe more than that … the touch on my nipple ring sends jolts through me … and his thumb grazes the head of my cock and I stop thinking, his thrusts faster, harder, and I reach round to bury my hand in his hair as I crack open my eyes … and this isn't my bedroom, it's Theo's room. What are we … but the hand working me is relentless, bringing me closer to the edge …I gasp out "Dave!" and grasp the silky strands of his hair in my fingers … silky hair? Dave doesn't have silky hair … but it's too late for that
to matter.
Karl: The body in my arms is pulsing and squirming and moaning incoherently, and he's driving my over the edge with it. My sight is getting blurry and I'm just riding with it, thrusting myself against him, the friction of the fine hairs on his legs a perfect scrape against my cock, his muscles holding me in place. I rake my lips over his neck, trying desperately not to bite him and then his balls draw up and he fists his hand in my hair and I'm done. My hips jerk spasmodically against him and his hot cum covers my hand and he gasps my name. My orgasm crashes over me and I'm holding him against me so tightly, riding out the last of it.
And I take a deep breath and realize it wasn't my name that he called and I freeze. I slowly and carefully pull away from him, afraid to breathe, and I turn him towards me, and I'm lying there above him and he's under me, and I haven't seen him in years.
And the last time I saw him, he was wearing pasty dead-looking makeup, not this rosy, flushed just-been-fucked look. And my blood runs cold. "What the fuck? Paris?"
Paris: By the time I'm awake enough to realise it's not Dave who's got my cock in his hand, it's too late to stop what's about to happen, and I come hard, held firmly against a muscular chest as he pumps between my legs and I have to admit, whoever it is feels pretty damned good against me.
But before I can put this all together and come up with an answer as to why there's a strange guy in Theo's bed with me, he rolls me over and I'm staring up into unmistakable eyes. "Karl." I stare at him for a second feeling the blood drain from my face. "Karl, what the hell are you doing here?" This is now officially freaking me out.
Sitting up, I back away, needing a little distance. "How did …?" I quickly go over what I did last night in my head, and none of it could possibly lead up to this!
You're still staring at me, and I'm hoping you have some idea of how we got here. "Karl, mate, how did we end up …" I trail off, really not sure what else we did do.
Karl: I pull away from you abruptly, pulling the sheet up to cover myself, ridiculous really, when you consider what we've just been doing. Oh fuck, oh fuck.
"How did we end up . . . what? I don't even know where the fuck I am! I haven't seen you since Rings and then I wake up all curled up lovey-dovey with you like we've been fucking each other senseless!"
As I move, I realize that I have a few more aches and pains then I last remembered. My shoulder is throbbing, and, oh god, so's my ass. I twist around to look at my shoulder and see a perfect bite mark on it.
"Oh shit, we have been, haven't we? You fucking bit me!"
I desperately try to connect this morning with last night, but it's not working.
Paris: I can't believe you're mad at me! "You're in my house, and I have no fucking idea how you got in here!" At the accusing look in your eyes, my own anger rises. "And I didn't fucking bite you!!"
"Last night I came in from work, ate leftover Chinese, hit the shower and crashed. In my bed, across the hall. The next thing I know, I'm waking up in Theo's bed …" I wave my hand wildly in the air "… with you!"
My eyes flash as they meet yours. "Don't you think I'd remember if we'd been fucking each other senseless?" I would … wouldn't I? That thing at Dave's last week, sleeping through an early morning session … no, that was totally different. At least then I was in the same bed as I fell asleep in, with the same guy. Just when I think things are settling down, Wellie pulls a Twilight Zone on me.
After a quick fruitless glance round the floor for my clothes, I decide to stay put, still sitting half in bed, and the weariness that's been hanging around me these past few weeks defuses my anger. Running my hand through my hair, I look up at you. "I thought you were Dave."
Karl: You thought I was Dave. The full horror of the situation finally hits me. It was Dave's name you called as you came. You are Dave's lover. And I've been doing . . . what? . . . with you.
I tremble, feeling a hundred years old. Bloody fucking hell. The day at the beach. Dave and I have just got to the point where we are friends without shadows between us and now this. I am the most fucked up person on the planet. I promise to be friends with him and then I go out and seduce his lover, even though I don't remember doing it. I am that twisted that I can't let him have his happiness if it's not with me.
I try to speak, but my voice has deserted me. Finally, I look at you, trying to apologize "I . . . I don't know where I am. Or where you lived. I wasn't even drunk, just had a beer with dinner. I went to bed last night, in my own bed, that's the last thing I remember. Whatever happened, whatever I did to you, I'm sorry."
As I look away from you, trying to find my clothes, something else you said . . . "Wait, who's Theo?"
Paris: As soon as I mention Dave, the fight goes out of you, and the hand holding the sheet around you shakes slightly. Shit! Dave's been telling me for weeks how glad he is that you're back, and how you're good mates, and that I should get to know you better … don't think this is quite what he meant. This morning is just getting
better and better.
But you've gone from raging to apologising in seconds, and the guilt flowing off you is incredibly strong. There has to be some explanation for this. "Look, if you went to sleep in your bed, and I went to sleep in mine, and neither of us can remember getting up to go out on the pull in the middle of the night, there has to be something
else going on here." Nice logical statement for a totally whacked out situation. "I know you're not lying, and you have to trust that I'm not either … Theo? He's my …"
I hesitate for a moment, not wanting to add shifting to this morning's madness if you don't already know about it, but I'm certain that Dave said you do shift, so … "He's my shift. Théodred, remember? Éomer's cousin?" Your eyes widen, and I sense another mood change coming on. "He's rarely here, but when he is he spends a lot of his time with … let's just say I'm happier if he has his own bed!"
Karl: You shift? You fucking shift! The ice around my heart grows colder and my rage is turned inwards. Everything goes cold, my hands are numb and my mind is frozen. And I know what has happened, what my sick brain has conjured. The blonde bastard got through. That will never fucking happen again, I'll die first.
OK, I've got to get out of here, but first I've got to find out what sort of story you want to spin here. I'll back you up, mate, whatever it takes to get you square about this with Dave. "Théodred's room? How nice for him. How can you tell when he's been here?" And did he and his cousin sit down and have a good laugh about how they could screw us over?
Paris: I don't miss the sarcasm in your voice, but Jay being a mate, it's stepping back into weirdness to think of them in my bed and it's not like I haven't got the room.
"He only ever shifts if it's arranged." I can see you don't believe me. I shrug and let you know what I can. "It's not a straightforward shift. He's bound to someone here, and it sorta tears their souls apart when he leaves, literally, so Theo doesn't like to shift in, knowing what it does to … to the guy he's bonded to. He's only been here once in the last four months, back in October."
Karl: That's different. Too bad there's nothing keeping Éomer away, not that he'd have the decency to stay away if he was hurting someone, but it doesn't matter anyway. I'll root him out of my head . . .
This isn't helping. Focus, Urban. "Are you present when he shifts? I mean, do you know what he's doing when he's here?"
I struggle and decide to just lay it out. "Was he here last night . . . did he arrange to be here? Is that why you can't remember?"
Paris: "No, I sort of pass him as I slip out, and he slips in, and when I slip back in, it feels like time hasn't passed while I've been gone." No need to go into the pure bright light. "And I know for a fact that if he had shifted in, it wouldn't have been you I woke up with."
If he had shifted in … something nags at the back of my mind. The last time I looked in the bowl nothing happened … but what if it did? I've been so exhausted, working 12 hours a day week in week out will to that to you, so I've been putting a lot down to that. My jacket in a different place to where I thought I'd left it, t-shirts in the wash I can't remember having worn lately. Guess I haven't been paying enough attention to my own life. I can't quite get my mind to think on the possibility of another shift yet.
My heart's pounding hard, and I've got to … got to what? Standing up, not really caring that I'm still naked, cause you've already seen everything anyway, I head off over the hallway, pull on a pair of sweatpants and grab my cell before heading back. "I have to make a call, and I'm gonna make some coffee. You want one?"
Karl: I avert my eyes as you stomp out, don't know why really, still trying to pretend . . .
I find my clothes in a pile by the doorway and pull them on hurriedly, following you. "Coffee would go down treat right now, maybe clear my mind."
As I follow you, I try to explain what a butthead Éomer is. "Théodred might not sleep around on whoever he's got here. But Éomer delights in doing this to me. He shifts in when I'm too weak to fight him off, and then he leaves when I'm in some sort of awkward situation. There was the one time I came back into a lockup. Demolished a bar evidently. And you wouldn't believe the different beds I've woken up in, but I usually manage to get out before the other party realizes they went to bed with one man and woke up with another."
I'm trying to explain, hoping you'll forgive me. Just this once I'm willing to use whatever excuse I can. "But the thing is . . . he's never done it with anyone I know before . . . or anyone with a shift. It just makes me wonder if he ran across Théodred and they . . . "
Here I trail off, my mind boggling a bit at what I'm suggesting.
Paris: "They what? Fucked like rabbits all night?" The first thing I see downstairs is a pile of my clothes strewn around by the door and I roll my eyes with a sigh, leaving the debris where it is for the moment.
"I was arrested for assault after Théo took down a doctor and an orderly when he saw Théoden in hospital. That wasn't fun, one minute being pulled over for speeding, the next being pushed into the back of a cop car. But I can understand his reasons for doing it. He's pretty wild, but knowing what he has here helped me get used to shifting. It's not like he was screwing around using my body, wearing my face, but this …"
You follow me through to the kitchen, and sit down on a stool while I stick a pot of coffee on and feed Giz, then rummage round in the fridge, digging out a pile of fruit for us to munch on. Your relationship with Éomer sounds totally different to the friendship
I've got with Théo. "You fight him off?" You look so crushed, as if this was all down to you. "This isn't your fault, Karl. If Faramir leaves me with bruises after a sparring match, I don't blame Dave, I just make sure I get the better of his Gondorian ass the next time."
I pour out a couple of coffees, quickly checking in with Théo, who swears he hasn't been here, and sounds hurt that I'd think he would do that, before phoning Jay. "It's Paris, sorry mate, did I wake you up? This is gonna sound like a weird question, but are you okay? No blinding chest pains? No? Good. *pause* Nah, just a nightmare, pretty realistic one … no, he's fine, just spoke to him. *pause* Yeah, we do need to catch up, I'll give you a ring later in the week, maybe head down the pool hall? Okay mate. Speak to you then."
"Okay, so it's not the Théo I know, but since shifting is the most likely explanation as to how we ended up … where we did, I think that means there's another one around." Suddenly I'm wishing there was something stronger than coffee in my hand.
Karl: I take the coffee you offered me and your cat jumps into my lap, kneading and purring. I focus on that, rubbing his fur, trying to hold on to that instead of screaming. Not my fault? Of course it's my fault! He is part of me, the sick part of me that apparently went out and fucked you.
And now you are telling me . . . what? That your own personality just added another. You clearly believe this stuff, and I'm not going to tell you my psychological theory, we all have our own ways of dealing with this.
"Another one? How is that possible, I thought you played just his part in the movies, not like Lawrence or the others."
And then the critical question for me. "What are you going to say to Dave? Or not say? I'll do whatever you want."
Paris: "No, not another character, another Théodred. Hugo has a couple of Elronds, and I think Viggo's had some interesting shifts so it's possible there could be two of them." I let out a sigh. "I looked in the bowl more than once. Not intentionally, believe me."
I tell you about Ise and ending up in Craig's garden and the Entling. "But nothing happened, not like the first time, so I didn't tell Dave. He has a hard time feeling responsible for all of this anyway, and I didn't want to land him with something else to worry about. But if there's a second shift around, he needs
to know. And he needs to know the truth."
Karl: I get up, unable to be still, rudely dumping your cat off, but this talk of other shifts makes me uncomfortable. Tell Dave. Tell Dave the truth. Right. Fucking hell.
I gesture helplessly to you and back to me. "And about this? What we did . . . whatever we did." And I wonder again just what happened, my butt is sore and I apparently took it in the ass and I've never done that before.
I still the nervous movements of my hands, putting them in my pockets, closing around something . . . I pull it out and it's three condoms, in their foil, still together.
"Oh shit!" I stare at you, my eyes horrified. I don't remember seeing any used ones up there, in that room. "What the fuck did we do?"
Paris: Giz huffs and walks away with his tail in the air while I pour us more coffee, something I really need, even though you seem hyper enough without it. I thought you had been doing this shifting thing for a while, so I'm surprised at how bothered you are by it. "Look, Dave and I split up a while back because I found out some things he'd lied about, and I don't ever want him to go through what I went through. So I'm not gonna lie to him, and besides, it's not as if we spent the night fucking each other's brains out, all we did was … what happened this morning, which is sort of understandable, given how we woke up. I'll talk to him." Not a conversation I'm really looking forward to, but he needs to know.
At the horrified look on your face, I put my mug back down on the bench and walk towards you. I don't know what to say, how to calm you down. I don't know you well enough. And there's something about this that we're seeing differently, but at least I can reassure you on one point. "Not that it's much consolation, but I get tested regularly, and my last test was clear. What about you?"
Waiting for your answer, I try to look on the bright side. "And I don't know if I wanna know all the details of their family reunion last night. It's not as if our bodies haven't both done all this before, right?" Umm. "Right?"
Karl: I take a deep breath, trying to calm down, appreciating your attempts to be rational, but I want to break things. "Yeah, yeah, my tests have all been clear, I'll get it done again just to be sure."
But then you ask me if my body's used to it and I lose it. "No, I've never fucking done that before! I don't . . . ! He gets my body and he uses it however the fuck he feels like it! Without my consent! And so, yeah, I fucking fight the son of a bitch off!"
I'm screaming at you and you're starting to look worried. Shit, add this to the tally of ways I've screwed up this morning.
I slide to the floor and put my head in my hands. "Shit, Paris, I'm sorry, mate, I just . . . "
Paris: I can see now how hard you're trying to hold it together, and when you let go, it's pretty spectacular. And totally understandable. But seeing you crumple like that …
I don't know how you'll take it, but I can't just let you sit there, so I join you on the floor, and put my arm around your shoulders, pulling you towards me. "I'm sorry Karl, I didn't know. And yell all you like, I'd be pretty pissed off too."
You remind me of Jay when I first met him, wound so tight with a rage at the world that kept bubbling to the surface. Guess moving to Wellie turned out to be a good thing for him, but I have to wonder if it's gonna be a good thing for you, having Éomer so close to Theo, and how the hell is that gonna affect us?
Karl: Part of me wants to let you hold me, to take the comfort from you that you seem so adept at offering. I've never met anyone like you, so good at staying centered, so rational without being condescending. I guess I never really knew you before.
I give in briefly, snuggling against you, but I suddenly remember how all this started and pull away. I've done enough to you, I can't accept this from you.
"Uh, Paris, I think I've abused your hospitality enough for one morning, I should be going."
I still don't know where I am. "Any idea where Éomer could have run across your shift? Maybe I can figure out where he parked my ride."
Paris: I feel you relax against me, just for a moment, before pulling away. So standing up, I grasp you hand and pull you to your feet. I'm thinking you really need to talk to someone about this, get it out of your system, but maybe Dave would be better than me.
"No, but there's a couple of bars down by the harbour, maybe they met up there?" There are a couple of real dives I've driven past, but never had the urge to visit. Wherever it is it can't be far, not if all this happened between me falling asleep late last night and waking up this morning feeling like I've had a decent night's sleep.
"Give me five minutes to grab a shower, and we can take a ride down there. I've gotta head out to work anyway."
Karl: I agree and wait for you, oddly grateful now that it was you I woke up with. I'm amazed at your easy acceptance of this craziness and your willingness to help the man who molested you without asking first. I'm not sure that anyone else I know would be so decent about it.
I pace the floor, staring out the windows, trying to figure out a way to lock the blonde fucker out of my head for good.
You appear in record time.
"I have a bike and a truck. He could have taken either." Although, I wonder where he learned how to drive. But that's just evidence that my theory is correct, and he is just me, not anyone separate. I say a silent prayer that he didn’t decide to ride Smokey Joe into Wellington and then just leave him somewhere.
Paris: Grabbing my jacket on the way back down the stairs, I pull my wallet out of the jeans that are lying on the floor slipping it in my back pocket, and kicking them to one side until later. Heading back through the kitchen, I stop to scribble my cell number on a piece of paper. "You ever wanna talk, or just grab a beer, give me a call."
Stopping by the back door, I hand you a spare helmet which turns out to be a good fit. "He can drive? Now that is a truly scary thought!" I wonder if I should start shackling Leelu up and hiding the key. You still look miserable as hell, so I slap you on the arm with a smile.
"C'mon mate, let's go find your ride." Pushing open the door, we head off into the early morning sunlight.
Karl: I pocket the paper with your number on it and then realize I'm a fucking idiot. My keys are in my pocket. I suppose I was so freaked out by the condoms that I didn't think to check for anything else. So I turn them out. There's some bills wadded up, few pieces of change. A comb.
"Too bad the bastard didn't pick up a match book. Ah, I guess with the smoking ban, no one's handing them out anymore."
I jingle my keys, "We're looking for a Harley Softail. Would any of those bars you mentioned appeal to a horseback-riding barbarian maniac?"
Paris: "That should be easy to spot." I'm just hoping no-one saw it last night and decided to take it for a ride. "Well, there is one, a real dive, right down on the harbour a few streets over. It's called the Ship, I think. We could start with that one. It's not like there's a Nag's Head or a Bay Horse around here!"
Doesn't take long to get Leelu out on to the street, and I start her up, giving the engine a couple of minutes to warm while I lock the yard. Mounting up, I rev the engine a little, surprised that you don't climb straight on behind me, I glance back over my shoulder. "Karl, you coming, mate?"
Karl: I didn't even think about it when you handed me the helmet. We're gonna take your bike. And that means . . . shit. The last thing I need this morning is to have you wrapped in my arms again. I barely even know you and I feel like you've been imprinted on me somehow. One more thing to add to the list of reasons why I hate horseboy, one more thing that is out of my control. My nerves feel like they have been scraped raw by my veering emotions since I woke up, what? . . . one . . . two? hours ago. I've had to deal with entirely too much crap this morning.
You're looking at me oddly. "Yeah, yeah, just getting my bearings." Not entirely a lie.
I swing my leg over behind you, careful to keep myself back as far as I can, not touching you, my hands gripping my thighs. Trying not to remember how we were when I woke up. Hoping the ride is a short one.
Paris: As soon as you get on and your legs go round me, I get a vivid reminder of how this all started, and I'm kinda glad you keep your distance. If it was anyone else sitting right at the back of the seat like a total novice, I'd have reached behind and pulled you closer, but in this case, I think you're better off where you are.
I head straight to the Ship, and sure enough, there's a Soft tail parked outside, looking none the worse for having spend the night there.
You're off the back like a shot and straight over, checking her out just like I would be in your position. "She okay?" You give me a relieved nod, and I think it's time for me to go.
"I better get going. See you around mate." Slipping her into gear, I give you a wave and take off up the street, heading for the site.
Karl: The bike's there in one piece, don't see my helmet. Paris rides off and I'm finally alone. I slump over the handlebars, suddenly bone deep exhausted. What the fuck am I going to do now?
My life has spun out of control and this is so much more serious than the random club kids. I've lost my best friend just cause my split personality can't keep his dick in his pants.
Finally, I start the bike. Nothing to do but go home. I don't enjoy the ride like I usually do, feeling like I'm dead inside.
I'll lock the blonde fucker out of my head . . . he'll never see the light of day again. Part of me, the part that likes to roam the night, that likes wildness, wails at the loss of him. But the rest of me, the daylight Karl, ruthlessly gags that little voice. I'll never let him out again.
