horseboykarl (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
horseboykarl) wrote2006-01-23 09:33 pm
horseboykarl) wrote2006-01-23 09:33 pm
Entry tags:
Nightmares (Sean/Karl)
I wake up screaming, sweaty, tangled up in the sheets. Fuck. I thought they were done . . . despite my warning to Sean, I hadn't had any the entire time we were together for Christmas. But this one was different, and I curse the utter predictability of my psyche. This time when that fanboy lifted the iron bar up to bash my head in, he changed into Dylan just when my sword connected with his throat.
Don't know what the fuck to do. Someone pounds on my door, asking if I'm all right. "Nightmare!" I yell and they go away, cause I'm bloody sure that just about everybody's sleeping poorly tonight. No one here I can talk to about it, no one I can tell that seeing Dylan like that brought back my most horrific memories.
Shaking and sweating, I get a glass of water from the bathroom, trying to calm down, but knowing I'll never get back to sleep tonight, knowing that every time I close my eyes, I'll see nothing but visions of gruesome death. Fuck, I can't go back into that hole again. Can't.
The clock says that it's just a little after midnight. Feels a hell of a lot later. I sit on the bed, drawing my knees up and staring at my cell phone on top of the telly.
my door's always open, all right?
He said that back when we were just friends, when we barely knew each other, before he had any idea of the things that were haunting me. But we're not just friends anymore. Does being lovers mean that he's less of a friend? Probably not, otherwise some of the things that are so easy with him wouldn't be. But it's late.
But we’ve talked every few days since I’ve been away, just rambling talks about nothing, teasing each other, wanting each other. Like normal lovers. But never this late at night and never because I’m afraid I’m losing my mind.
I give a bitter laugh. This is nothing that he bargained for, I'm certain. He probably was expecting some lighthearted affair, lots of sex, lots of fun, not a lover who has screaming nightmares from coming too close to death. But he ended up with me instead.
But maybe I'm not being fair to him. We said "together" and maybe that means more than just the fun parts. He accepted the other part without a hitch and stayed with me. He's the only one I trust with this. And fuck, I need him. Give him a chance, Urban.
It doesn't matter what he does, I just need to hear his voice, to let the peace he's always given me help me with this. Before I can change my mind, I grab the phone and punch his code, hoping that he'll answer. "Sean?"
Sean: It’s a quiet day that I spend catching up on work with the garden beds near the patio. Finally giving up as the sun slides down, I end up sitting on the patio, watching the last blaze of afternoon light and remembering the last time I spoke to Karl, and grinning like damned fool. I stay out for a while, just thinking, about him, about what he’s come to mean to me. Finally, as darkness falls I head inside for a shower and a bite to eat, ending up sprawled on the couch in front of the telly, and somewhere near the middle of The Great Escape, nod off.
Some time later I blink awake, wondering for a second what’s woken me. Steve McQueen and company are gone, and damn, I wanted to watch the ending of that, but they’ve been replaced by a young John Wayne in a color version of another oldie of which I can’t recall the name of. Reaching for the remote the trilling noise sounds again, and of course, my cell. Takes me a few moments to find it, wedged between the couch cushions as it is, and how the hell did it get there, but now I’m hitting the button, pressing it to my ear without even glancing at the display.
“Mm, ‘ello?”
Karl: I'm convinced that I'm about to get your voice mail, that I've called too late and I'm trying to make up something rational for why I'm calling this time of night. I don't think I'm capable of teasing about anything, not when I'm still shaking. I curl up tighter into myself.
But a sleepy voice answers finally, mumbling something, and most of the tension in my muscles unlocks with relief.
"It's Karl." I've woken you up, this was a bad idea, I shouldn't have done it. But my need to hear your voice is still pressing on me.
I twist my fingers in my hair, trying to say something offhand, but my mouth gets away from me and I'm babbling.
"I'm sorry I rang so late, fuck, I must have woken you up. Sorry, Sean. I . . . I, hell, I just needed to hear your voice. Just wanted to talk to you, couldn't wait. I'm sorry. Please? I know it's late, but can we just talk?"
Sean: Karl? Fuck, but my heart gives a little jump, and I’m about to roll my eyes at myself when I hear it, the shakiness in your voice. It’s got me coming awake, blinking, and glancing at the clock I see it’s a little past midnight. You’re going on, apologizing and shite, I know there’s something wrong, that something’s happened.
Without realizing it, my voice goes soft, soothing as I say, “Of course we can talk, you can always talk to me, love. Haven’t I said as much? And stop apologizing. Tell me what’s wrong, I’m right here.”
Pushing up off the couch, my fingers tight around the phone, pressing it to my ear, I wait anxiously, heading to the kitchen to make up a cuppa tea.
Karl: The endearment that I usually hear when we're in bed, making each other crazy with lust, slips out and it calms me down more than I thought possible. I know it's not a declaration on your part but it reminds me of better times and hopes that my ghosts will leave me alone. Your voice calms me too, and my brain stops spinning, letting me make some sense of my thoughts.
"Had a nightmare." And that makes me sound like I'm a fucking child. "One of the crew . . . my dresser, actually. He . . . fuck."
Trying to tell you about it is bringing it back, making me afraid to close my eyes again.
"He killed himself, slit his throat. Found the body. Brought up bad memories. Can't . . . can't do this again."
Sean: Christ. I nearly ask if you’re all right, but of course you’re not bloody all right. I’m standing frozen in front of the sink, about to fill the kettle with water and suddenly, I remember our first kiss. I remember how you felt, your heat, your taste, and fuck, wish I was with you right now so I could get a look at those eyes of yours. Wish I could make this just go away from you. Setting the kettle aside, I grope for something to say, suspecting I know exactly what you mean when you say you can’t do this again.
My voice is gentle but firm as I say, “Karl, I know you can’t, and you don’t have to. You’re not alone this time.” I latch onto the idea, it’s the only thing I can think of that might actually help. “You’re not alone now, I’m here for you, whatever you need. I mean it. Talk to me, tell me what you need.”
I run a hand through my hair, hoping that for once, I’ve said the right thing at the right moment, resolving myself to do whatever it takes to figure out the right thing if I haven’t.
Karl: Your understanding is like a balm over my ragged emotions, and I relax finally. I uncurl fully, getting under the blanket, feeling warm for the first time since this morning.
"I need you, Sean. Need this. Last time, I kept quiet, trying to protect people. It was so fucking hard."
I settle against the pillow, your voice so warm, like something I could wrap around me. "Thank you. Tossed my breakfast, because it looked like that tattooed fucker. They think I'm a nance now, but it's better than them knowing the truth. I just need to talk to you, about anything, doesn't matter."
My appetite never came back all day, and the feelings are too bloody familiar, not eating, not sleeping, slowly going crazy. But you've just taken away my worst fear, and knowing that I'm not alone is restoring me.
Sean: I need you, and fuck, that cuts right through me, and what’s more . . . I need to be there for you, don’t want to let you down. You keep talking, seeming to settle a bit and I lean against the counter, listening, feeling slightly better.
“I don’t need protecting, Karl, you can talk to me, can ask for what you need. Remember that.” Turning, I reach for the kettle, getting started with the tea again. I’m curious as hell as to what went on with the bloke that . . . well, I don’t think we need to get into that now, not when you’re beginning to sound a little firmer.
I decide on something totally harmless, instead. “Did some more work on the garden today. Got a fair bit done, got it all ready for planting when the time comes. I-I’d like you to help, if you want. Like the idea of you in me garden, using your hands, seeing something grow that you’ve planted.” And fuck, where did that come from, but suddenly I realize, the thought’s been in the back of my mind all day.
Karl: Peace. That's what I was looking for when I dialed your number and that's what I've found.
"I know you don't, wouldn't have told you if I thought you did." I shrug. "Probably wouldn't have let you get close in the first place."
I was so fucking tired of being alone, I see that now. But I don't think I could have stood another relationship where I had to keep parts of myself hidden. It was exhausting. If you hadn't given off that aura of strength and kindness, I don't know that I would’ve kept calling you.
The vision of us in your garden, working together, floods me with yet more warmth and peace. "I'd like to help, I like getting dirt under my nails. Feeling . . . alive like that. And the idea of helping you turn your garden into the perfect place for you . . . that sounds wonderful, Sean."
Sean: Setting the kettle on the stove, I turn the knob, smiling at your words. I’m falling for you, do you know that? The idea’s sudden and unstoppable, and though I’ve avoided it like mad, it’s been there, I just haven’t taken it out and looked at it until now. Now, there’s no avoiding it. Not when you can make me feel, want, need the things I do. Not when I feel so fucking good and safe feeling them.
Rubbing a hand over my face, I keep the words inside, not sure you want them, or even need them, right now. “Glad you told me, that you kept calling me, very fucking glad.” I pause, letting myself settle a bit, though my heart’s pounding along at a fair pace, and I decide to tease my way past the moment. “Looking forward to having you in my garden . . . would love you having me there, too.”
I chuckle softly. “Can’t walk past that fucking patio chair without grinning like a damned idiot.”
Karl: Fuck, when I picked up the phone I was sure I'd never smile tonight. But you've managed to give me that. It's a long fucking way from normal, but I'm reassured that I can get back this time. Not alone. This time, I know there's a way out. And you're my guide.
"Sean . . . thank you. You don't know . . . how bad it was, before. You've made me smile."
Any other night, the idea of us taking each other in the middle of your garden would give me a raging boner, but not tonight with everything so fresh in front of my eyes. But that's another thing I know will come back eventually and I appreciate your teasing.
And I find that I've unwound enough to tease you back. "And I'll have to make certain that every piece of your furniture affects you like that."
Sean: I smile myself, hearing your words. “Glad you’re smiling, wish I was there to see it.” Your teasing goes a long way to reassure me that you’re holding steady, helps to reinforce the feeling that you're getting your equilibrium back, at least as much as you can right now.
“Mm, every piece of furniture? Tall order, that, but I think you have it in you. And you’ve already taken care of me bed, so you’re already off to a good start.” I laugh softly, so fucking relieved that the tension in your voice as eased somewhat. A few seconds of silence pass before I add, “I’m not doing anything the next couple days, have some time . . . I mean, I can come out there, if you need me, and I-” need to see for myself that you’re all right, but this isn’t about what I need. This is about you.
“Whatever you need, Karl, just ask.” I’m repeating myself, maybe, but sometimes it doesn’t hurt to hear something twice.
Karl: To have you here to keep the nightmares away . . . fuck, I want that. Not just that, either. I was having enough trouble resisting having you come for a visit before, but I can't anymore. I need you.
"Yeah, that would be brilliant, I do want you down here." I shift, sitting up a little, feeling more alert and normal. "But, Sean . . . fuck, you'd be walking into a mess. There's going to be a coroner's inquest in two days, and we find out if we have to testify tomorrow. The fucking press is here, even though they're muzzled to some extent. And Jed Brophy and a lot of other stunties from Rings are here, so you'd be recognised."
Scratching my head, I'm wondering whether I should tell you my suspicions, but what the fuck. "And I don't know what Dave is playing at, but I think Faramir is here pretending to be a stuntie named Mark."
I sigh. I guess I'm going to have to confront him about that, especially if we end up in court.
"I want you to come . . . just want you to know what you're getting."
Sean: I wonder for a moment about Faramir pretending to be a stuntie, but your next words overpowers my curiosity. You want me there, and it feels good. Feels good to know that I want to be there for you.
“Know exactly what I’m getting,” I say, voice going warm, words honest. “And it’s worth dodging the press and whatever else. Can keep a low profile if I need to, but I want to be with you.”
I take a breath, letting the truth of my words settle over me, thinking about what I need to do to get ready. “Think I could get off tomorrow, er, today, I mean. You’ll need to give me the directions and the like to where you’re staying.”
I head upstairs, trying to remember where I’ve stored my travel bag. “Don’t worry so much about the stunt fellas, you know, we were a tight group on Rings before you even made it there and most of ‘em already know I, uh, swing both ways, like. After my divorce, well wasn’t like I was advertising or anything, but I did do a little dating, if you can imagine.”
Karl: Your talk of dating sends a small surge of . . . not jealousy, really, because we both had pasts before we got together. Envy maybe, that I didn't know you well back then and they did. But I was a different person then, maybe not someone you'd want to be with. And maybe you weren't right for me either . . . then. Cause you sure as fuck feel like the right thing now.
"Fuck, I'm glad you're coming down. But yeah, you're right, the stunt guys will be fine. They twit me about my preferences but it's in fun most of the time." I laugh. "Even after all this time, they're still loyal . . . to Rings, to Pete, to all of it."
I sink down into the pillows again, contentment stealing over me, knowing you'll be with me soon. "I'll pick you up at the Dunedin airport. Sean . . . I can't wait to see you."
Sean: I smile. “Me too. I’ll call and let you know when I’ve landed, hopefully I can catch the first flight out.”
Rummaging about in my closet and pulling out my travel bag, I set it on the bed getting ready to start filling it and it’s surprising how this doesn’t feel strange at all. I’m rushing about in the middle of the night, getting ready to go to you just because you asked, and it feels like . . . the thing to do. It’s what I want to do, and I keep coming back to that. That I want to do this, want to get to you right now and see you, and later, want to see what this is between us.
“Karl, I’m glad you felt you could ask for this . . . I’m glad you feel like you can trust me this far,” I say quietly. “Getting on a plane for you, hope I can plan for a warm welcome, yeah?” I tease, sliding back into the familiar habit.
Karl: It's the middle of the night, I'm plagued by nightmares again, and until a little bit ago, I thought I was falling apart again. But you're on the other end of this phone, teasing me and I feel like it won't take long to get back on my feet.
"You'll get as warm a welcome as you want. You'll probably get me plastered around you, until you can't breathe." I'm smiling again. But I wonder if you want to stay in my room, or if you want your own. Because there's enough people here who know both of us . . . it'd be like declaring that we're a couple. We can work that out when you get here, I suppose.
"I'm glad I had enough sense for once to call you. Almost didn't. Not used to having someone . . . " Someone that I can depend on. There's Aunt June, but there's some things I'll never, ever tell her. Fucking hell, I'm glad I rang you.
Sean: “Won’t mind having you plastered around me, looking forward to it, actually,” I say warmly, meaning it. Almost didn’t, and christ, but I’m glad you did, just the thought of you fighting this demon alone . . . makes me go cold inside.
“Think I know what you mean, about not being used to having someone to lean on. Better get used to it, I’m not planning on going anywhere.” I’m not planning on going anywhere, not unless you send me away. I’m not sure just when you got such a hold on me, but here I am, held, and it doesn’t have me doubting or second guessing. Doesn’t have me regretting, but then, I’ve never been too afraid to reach out for something I wanted, something I thought was worth it . . . it’s the holding on, after, that never lasts.
A small, hard part of me wonders how long it’ll be before you get tired of me, or get ready to move on like everyone else, but I push that aside. It’s an unfair thought, doesn’t have a place in the here and now, but I guess we all have our demons, large and small. Anyway, right now, this is about you.
“Anytime you need me, just ask . . . or, you know, even if you just need space, just ask.” I want you to know I’ll give you as much or as little room as you need, though I probably just sound daft, instead.
Karl: Not planning on going anywhere. I grip the phone, here in the dead of night, everything in me at the lowest ebb, and I hope like fuck that you mean that. Maybe I've shown you too much of me, but after Eric left me because he couldn't accept who I was, I'm afraid to get in too deeply with you and have you bump up against some part of my personality that you can't live with.
"Sean . . . " But I have no words, no way to tell you, not like this, not tonight when I've already let myself be so vulnerable to you.
I've held things back in every sort of relationship I've ever had, except with June and Frank, once I grew old enough to understand that my parents may have loved me, but they didn't like me. But I can't seem to keep anything back from you. 'I need you' I said to you, and I've never said that to anyone.
Fuck, I know I have issues, major ones. But I've taken the risk with you and all I can do is hope it doesn't bite me in the ass. But the rest of your words drag me out of my brooding. "Space? Uh, I don't think that'll be a problem. We've been together, in our own minds at least, for a little over a month, yeah? And how many days have we been in the same town even?"
One more thing I can give up to you tonight though. "But I decided the other day when we were on the phone that you're worth it, we're worth it, putting up with being separated a lot."
Sean: Tossing a pair of socks into the bag, I sink down on the bed next to it, pressing the phone tight against my ear, chuckling softly. “Yeah, you’re right there. Space doesn’t seem like something we need more of, does it? Don’t think we need it much, either.”
Bloody hell, how you undo me so effortlessly, how you get the words falling right out of me, I’ll never know. You’re saying we’re worth it, that you think I’m worth it, and something very warm and very real fills my chest, gets me into that place of wanting, of needing. That place no one else has taken me, not quite like this.
“You’re right all around. We are worth it, and I’m not just agreeing with you, I’m saying it, giving it back to you. You’re worth it.” I fall silent, letting the moment settle. There’s too much distance between us to say much more of the things rising inside me, I settle for giving you just one more. “Can’t wait to see you, to get wrapped up in you, feel you next to me in the night. Missed that, I have.”
Karl: wrapped up. At your words, desire comes back abruptly, slamming into me with shocking suddenness and I want you next to me again, naked skin against naked skin. I'm surprised that I can feel like this so soon . . . after last time, it took a long time for me to feel anything.
"Fuck, Sean, how do you make me want you so easily?" I wonder again if you'll want to register for your own room, for the sake of your reputation. I decide that I don't care, really, as long as I can spend my nights with you. As long as I know you're beside me, I don't much care what everybody else thinks.
"Yeah, I've missed that too. And not just because you keep the nightmares away." I manage to make it teasing again, trying to make my night time terrors go away with a joke.
"I guess I should let you get things organised." My voice is regretful, but I know if you are going to get here as soon as I need you to, that you have things to do. "I'll be waiting for you."
Sean: I lay back on the bed, wishing I had an answer for you, for myself. “Mmm, keep asking meself the same thing about you,” I finally say once the warmth rising in me settles. I smile at your teasing, at the thought of providing you plenty of distraction from your nightmares.
“Yeah,” I say slowly when you mention me getting organized and I’m feeling as reluctant to let you go as you sound. “Guess I should go, actually. Make a few calls, pin down that flight time.”
I’ll be waiting for you, And fuck, and the warmth takes me full force. “Won’t have to wait too long. Going to be so fucking good to see you again,” I say, voice warm and husky. Taking a breath, I add, “Try and get some rest, love.” I can’t help but tack on, “You’re going to need it.”
Karl: Breathing in sharply at your promise, and the warmth of your voice wrapping around me, I manage some sort of noise in agreement.
"I think I'll be able to sleep now . . . thank you." For answering your phone, for keeping me talking all this time until I settled, for dropping everything to come to me when I need you, for giving me something else to focus on.
We say our goodbyes and I put the phone on the bedside table and sink down into the pillows. Imaginings of why I'm going to need my rest flit through my mind as I pull one of the pillows against my chest, curling around it and wishing it was you. My eyelids are heavy and when I close them, this time I see only you.
Don't know what the fuck to do. Someone pounds on my door, asking if I'm all right. "Nightmare!" I yell and they go away, cause I'm bloody sure that just about everybody's sleeping poorly tonight. No one here I can talk to about it, no one I can tell that seeing Dylan like that brought back my most horrific memories.
Shaking and sweating, I get a glass of water from the bathroom, trying to calm down, but knowing I'll never get back to sleep tonight, knowing that every time I close my eyes, I'll see nothing but visions of gruesome death. Fuck, I can't go back into that hole again. Can't.
The clock says that it's just a little after midnight. Feels a hell of a lot later. I sit on the bed, drawing my knees up and staring at my cell phone on top of the telly.
my door's always open, all right?
He said that back when we were just friends, when we barely knew each other, before he had any idea of the things that were haunting me. But we're not just friends anymore. Does being lovers mean that he's less of a friend? Probably not, otherwise some of the things that are so easy with him wouldn't be. But it's late.
But we’ve talked every few days since I’ve been away, just rambling talks about nothing, teasing each other, wanting each other. Like normal lovers. But never this late at night and never because I’m afraid I’m losing my mind.
I give a bitter laugh. This is nothing that he bargained for, I'm certain. He probably was expecting some lighthearted affair, lots of sex, lots of fun, not a lover who has screaming nightmares from coming too close to death. But he ended up with me instead.
But maybe I'm not being fair to him. We said "together" and maybe that means more than just the fun parts. He accepted the other part without a hitch and stayed with me. He's the only one I trust with this. And fuck, I need him. Give him a chance, Urban.
It doesn't matter what he does, I just need to hear his voice, to let the peace he's always given me help me with this. Before I can change my mind, I grab the phone and punch his code, hoping that he'll answer. "Sean?"
Sean: It’s a quiet day that I spend catching up on work with the garden beds near the patio. Finally giving up as the sun slides down, I end up sitting on the patio, watching the last blaze of afternoon light and remembering the last time I spoke to Karl, and grinning like damned fool. I stay out for a while, just thinking, about him, about what he’s come to mean to me. Finally, as darkness falls I head inside for a shower and a bite to eat, ending up sprawled on the couch in front of the telly, and somewhere near the middle of The Great Escape, nod off.
Some time later I blink awake, wondering for a second what’s woken me. Steve McQueen and company are gone, and damn, I wanted to watch the ending of that, but they’ve been replaced by a young John Wayne in a color version of another oldie of which I can’t recall the name of. Reaching for the remote the trilling noise sounds again, and of course, my cell. Takes me a few moments to find it, wedged between the couch cushions as it is, and how the hell did it get there, but now I’m hitting the button, pressing it to my ear without even glancing at the display.
“Mm, ‘ello?”
Karl: I'm convinced that I'm about to get your voice mail, that I've called too late and I'm trying to make up something rational for why I'm calling this time of night. I don't think I'm capable of teasing about anything, not when I'm still shaking. I curl up tighter into myself.
But a sleepy voice answers finally, mumbling something, and most of the tension in my muscles unlocks with relief.
"It's Karl." I've woken you up, this was a bad idea, I shouldn't have done it. But my need to hear your voice is still pressing on me.
I twist my fingers in my hair, trying to say something offhand, but my mouth gets away from me and I'm babbling.
"I'm sorry I rang so late, fuck, I must have woken you up. Sorry, Sean. I . . . I, hell, I just needed to hear your voice. Just wanted to talk to you, couldn't wait. I'm sorry. Please? I know it's late, but can we just talk?"
Sean: Karl? Fuck, but my heart gives a little jump, and I’m about to roll my eyes at myself when I hear it, the shakiness in your voice. It’s got me coming awake, blinking, and glancing at the clock I see it’s a little past midnight. You’re going on, apologizing and shite, I know there’s something wrong, that something’s happened.
Without realizing it, my voice goes soft, soothing as I say, “Of course we can talk, you can always talk to me, love. Haven’t I said as much? And stop apologizing. Tell me what’s wrong, I’m right here.”
Pushing up off the couch, my fingers tight around the phone, pressing it to my ear, I wait anxiously, heading to the kitchen to make up a cuppa tea.
Karl: The endearment that I usually hear when we're in bed, making each other crazy with lust, slips out and it calms me down more than I thought possible. I know it's not a declaration on your part but it reminds me of better times and hopes that my ghosts will leave me alone. Your voice calms me too, and my brain stops spinning, letting me make some sense of my thoughts.
"Had a nightmare." And that makes me sound like I'm a fucking child. "One of the crew . . . my dresser, actually. He . . . fuck."
Trying to tell you about it is bringing it back, making me afraid to close my eyes again.
"He killed himself, slit his throat. Found the body. Brought up bad memories. Can't . . . can't do this again."
Sean: Christ. I nearly ask if you’re all right, but of course you’re not bloody all right. I’m standing frozen in front of the sink, about to fill the kettle with water and suddenly, I remember our first kiss. I remember how you felt, your heat, your taste, and fuck, wish I was with you right now so I could get a look at those eyes of yours. Wish I could make this just go away from you. Setting the kettle aside, I grope for something to say, suspecting I know exactly what you mean when you say you can’t do this again.
My voice is gentle but firm as I say, “Karl, I know you can’t, and you don’t have to. You’re not alone this time.” I latch onto the idea, it’s the only thing I can think of that might actually help. “You’re not alone now, I’m here for you, whatever you need. I mean it. Talk to me, tell me what you need.”
I run a hand through my hair, hoping that for once, I’ve said the right thing at the right moment, resolving myself to do whatever it takes to figure out the right thing if I haven’t.
Karl: Your understanding is like a balm over my ragged emotions, and I relax finally. I uncurl fully, getting under the blanket, feeling warm for the first time since this morning.
"I need you, Sean. Need this. Last time, I kept quiet, trying to protect people. It was so fucking hard."
I settle against the pillow, your voice so warm, like something I could wrap around me. "Thank you. Tossed my breakfast, because it looked like that tattooed fucker. They think I'm a nance now, but it's better than them knowing the truth. I just need to talk to you, about anything, doesn't matter."
My appetite never came back all day, and the feelings are too bloody familiar, not eating, not sleeping, slowly going crazy. But you've just taken away my worst fear, and knowing that I'm not alone is restoring me.
Sean: I need you, and fuck, that cuts right through me, and what’s more . . . I need to be there for you, don’t want to let you down. You keep talking, seeming to settle a bit and I lean against the counter, listening, feeling slightly better.
“I don’t need protecting, Karl, you can talk to me, can ask for what you need. Remember that.” Turning, I reach for the kettle, getting started with the tea again. I’m curious as hell as to what went on with the bloke that . . . well, I don’t think we need to get into that now, not when you’re beginning to sound a little firmer.
I decide on something totally harmless, instead. “Did some more work on the garden today. Got a fair bit done, got it all ready for planting when the time comes. I-I’d like you to help, if you want. Like the idea of you in me garden, using your hands, seeing something grow that you’ve planted.” And fuck, where did that come from, but suddenly I realize, the thought’s been in the back of my mind all day.
Karl: Peace. That's what I was looking for when I dialed your number and that's what I've found.
"I know you don't, wouldn't have told you if I thought you did." I shrug. "Probably wouldn't have let you get close in the first place."
I was so fucking tired of being alone, I see that now. But I don't think I could have stood another relationship where I had to keep parts of myself hidden. It was exhausting. If you hadn't given off that aura of strength and kindness, I don't know that I would’ve kept calling you.
The vision of us in your garden, working together, floods me with yet more warmth and peace. "I'd like to help, I like getting dirt under my nails. Feeling . . . alive like that. And the idea of helping you turn your garden into the perfect place for you . . . that sounds wonderful, Sean."
Sean: Setting the kettle on the stove, I turn the knob, smiling at your words. I’m falling for you, do you know that? The idea’s sudden and unstoppable, and though I’ve avoided it like mad, it’s been there, I just haven’t taken it out and looked at it until now. Now, there’s no avoiding it. Not when you can make me feel, want, need the things I do. Not when I feel so fucking good and safe feeling them.
Rubbing a hand over my face, I keep the words inside, not sure you want them, or even need them, right now. “Glad you told me, that you kept calling me, very fucking glad.” I pause, letting myself settle a bit, though my heart’s pounding along at a fair pace, and I decide to tease my way past the moment. “Looking forward to having you in my garden . . . would love you having me there, too.”
I chuckle softly. “Can’t walk past that fucking patio chair without grinning like a damned idiot.”
Karl: Fuck, when I picked up the phone I was sure I'd never smile tonight. But you've managed to give me that. It's a long fucking way from normal, but I'm reassured that I can get back this time. Not alone. This time, I know there's a way out. And you're my guide.
"Sean . . . thank you. You don't know . . . how bad it was, before. You've made me smile."
Any other night, the idea of us taking each other in the middle of your garden would give me a raging boner, but not tonight with everything so fresh in front of my eyes. But that's another thing I know will come back eventually and I appreciate your teasing.
And I find that I've unwound enough to tease you back. "And I'll have to make certain that every piece of your furniture affects you like that."
Sean: I smile myself, hearing your words. “Glad you’re smiling, wish I was there to see it.” Your teasing goes a long way to reassure me that you’re holding steady, helps to reinforce the feeling that you're getting your equilibrium back, at least as much as you can right now.
“Mm, every piece of furniture? Tall order, that, but I think you have it in you. And you’ve already taken care of me bed, so you’re already off to a good start.” I laugh softly, so fucking relieved that the tension in your voice as eased somewhat. A few seconds of silence pass before I add, “I’m not doing anything the next couple days, have some time . . . I mean, I can come out there, if you need me, and I-” need to see for myself that you’re all right, but this isn’t about what I need. This is about you.
“Whatever you need, Karl, just ask.” I’m repeating myself, maybe, but sometimes it doesn’t hurt to hear something twice.
Karl: To have you here to keep the nightmares away . . . fuck, I want that. Not just that, either. I was having enough trouble resisting having you come for a visit before, but I can't anymore. I need you.
"Yeah, that would be brilliant, I do want you down here." I shift, sitting up a little, feeling more alert and normal. "But, Sean . . . fuck, you'd be walking into a mess. There's going to be a coroner's inquest in two days, and we find out if we have to testify tomorrow. The fucking press is here, even though they're muzzled to some extent. And Jed Brophy and a lot of other stunties from Rings are here, so you'd be recognised."
Scratching my head, I'm wondering whether I should tell you my suspicions, but what the fuck. "And I don't know what Dave is playing at, but I think Faramir is here pretending to be a stuntie named Mark."
I sigh. I guess I'm going to have to confront him about that, especially if we end up in court.
"I want you to come . . . just want you to know what you're getting."
Sean: I wonder for a moment about Faramir pretending to be a stuntie, but your next words overpowers my curiosity. You want me there, and it feels good. Feels good to know that I want to be there for you.
“Know exactly what I’m getting,” I say, voice going warm, words honest. “And it’s worth dodging the press and whatever else. Can keep a low profile if I need to, but I want to be with you.”
I take a breath, letting the truth of my words settle over me, thinking about what I need to do to get ready. “Think I could get off tomorrow, er, today, I mean. You’ll need to give me the directions and the like to where you’re staying.”
I head upstairs, trying to remember where I’ve stored my travel bag. “Don’t worry so much about the stunt fellas, you know, we were a tight group on Rings before you even made it there and most of ‘em already know I, uh, swing both ways, like. After my divorce, well wasn’t like I was advertising or anything, but I did do a little dating, if you can imagine.”
Karl: Your talk of dating sends a small surge of . . . not jealousy, really, because we both had pasts before we got together. Envy maybe, that I didn't know you well back then and they did. But I was a different person then, maybe not someone you'd want to be with. And maybe you weren't right for me either . . . then. Cause you sure as fuck feel like the right thing now.
"Fuck, I'm glad you're coming down. But yeah, you're right, the stunt guys will be fine. They twit me about my preferences but it's in fun most of the time." I laugh. "Even after all this time, they're still loyal . . . to Rings, to Pete, to all of it."
I sink down into the pillows again, contentment stealing over me, knowing you'll be with me soon. "I'll pick you up at the Dunedin airport. Sean . . . I can't wait to see you."
Sean: I smile. “Me too. I’ll call and let you know when I’ve landed, hopefully I can catch the first flight out.”
Rummaging about in my closet and pulling out my travel bag, I set it on the bed getting ready to start filling it and it’s surprising how this doesn’t feel strange at all. I’m rushing about in the middle of the night, getting ready to go to you just because you asked, and it feels like . . . the thing to do. It’s what I want to do, and I keep coming back to that. That I want to do this, want to get to you right now and see you, and later, want to see what this is between us.
“Karl, I’m glad you felt you could ask for this . . . I’m glad you feel like you can trust me this far,” I say quietly. “Getting on a plane for you, hope I can plan for a warm welcome, yeah?” I tease, sliding back into the familiar habit.
Karl: It's the middle of the night, I'm plagued by nightmares again, and until a little bit ago, I thought I was falling apart again. But you're on the other end of this phone, teasing me and I feel like it won't take long to get back on my feet.
"You'll get as warm a welcome as you want. You'll probably get me plastered around you, until you can't breathe." I'm smiling again. But I wonder if you want to stay in my room, or if you want your own. Because there's enough people here who know both of us . . . it'd be like declaring that we're a couple. We can work that out when you get here, I suppose.
"I'm glad I had enough sense for once to call you. Almost didn't. Not used to having someone . . . " Someone that I can depend on. There's Aunt June, but there's some things I'll never, ever tell her. Fucking hell, I'm glad I rang you.
Sean: “Won’t mind having you plastered around me, looking forward to it, actually,” I say warmly, meaning it. Almost didn’t, and christ, but I’m glad you did, just the thought of you fighting this demon alone . . . makes me go cold inside.
“Think I know what you mean, about not being used to having someone to lean on. Better get used to it, I’m not planning on going anywhere.” I’m not planning on going anywhere, not unless you send me away. I’m not sure just when you got such a hold on me, but here I am, held, and it doesn’t have me doubting or second guessing. Doesn’t have me regretting, but then, I’ve never been too afraid to reach out for something I wanted, something I thought was worth it . . . it’s the holding on, after, that never lasts.
A small, hard part of me wonders how long it’ll be before you get tired of me, or get ready to move on like everyone else, but I push that aside. It’s an unfair thought, doesn’t have a place in the here and now, but I guess we all have our demons, large and small. Anyway, right now, this is about you.
“Anytime you need me, just ask . . . or, you know, even if you just need space, just ask.” I want you to know I’ll give you as much or as little room as you need, though I probably just sound daft, instead.
Karl: Not planning on going anywhere. I grip the phone, here in the dead of night, everything in me at the lowest ebb, and I hope like fuck that you mean that. Maybe I've shown you too much of me, but after Eric left me because he couldn't accept who I was, I'm afraid to get in too deeply with you and have you bump up against some part of my personality that you can't live with.
"Sean . . . " But I have no words, no way to tell you, not like this, not tonight when I've already let myself be so vulnerable to you.
I've held things back in every sort of relationship I've ever had, except with June and Frank, once I grew old enough to understand that my parents may have loved me, but they didn't like me. But I can't seem to keep anything back from you. 'I need you' I said to you, and I've never said that to anyone.
Fuck, I know I have issues, major ones. But I've taken the risk with you and all I can do is hope it doesn't bite me in the ass. But the rest of your words drag me out of my brooding. "Space? Uh, I don't think that'll be a problem. We've been together, in our own minds at least, for a little over a month, yeah? And how many days have we been in the same town even?"
One more thing I can give up to you tonight though. "But I decided the other day when we were on the phone that you're worth it, we're worth it, putting up with being separated a lot."
Sean: Tossing a pair of socks into the bag, I sink down on the bed next to it, pressing the phone tight against my ear, chuckling softly. “Yeah, you’re right there. Space doesn’t seem like something we need more of, does it? Don’t think we need it much, either.”
Bloody hell, how you undo me so effortlessly, how you get the words falling right out of me, I’ll never know. You’re saying we’re worth it, that you think I’m worth it, and something very warm and very real fills my chest, gets me into that place of wanting, of needing. That place no one else has taken me, not quite like this.
“You’re right all around. We are worth it, and I’m not just agreeing with you, I’m saying it, giving it back to you. You’re worth it.” I fall silent, letting the moment settle. There’s too much distance between us to say much more of the things rising inside me, I settle for giving you just one more. “Can’t wait to see you, to get wrapped up in you, feel you next to me in the night. Missed that, I have.”
Karl: wrapped up. At your words, desire comes back abruptly, slamming into me with shocking suddenness and I want you next to me again, naked skin against naked skin. I'm surprised that I can feel like this so soon . . . after last time, it took a long time for me to feel anything.
"Fuck, Sean, how do you make me want you so easily?" I wonder again if you'll want to register for your own room, for the sake of your reputation. I decide that I don't care, really, as long as I can spend my nights with you. As long as I know you're beside me, I don't much care what everybody else thinks.
"Yeah, I've missed that too. And not just because you keep the nightmares away." I manage to make it teasing again, trying to make my night time terrors go away with a joke.
"I guess I should let you get things organised." My voice is regretful, but I know if you are going to get here as soon as I need you to, that you have things to do. "I'll be waiting for you."
Sean: I lay back on the bed, wishing I had an answer for you, for myself. “Mmm, keep asking meself the same thing about you,” I finally say once the warmth rising in me settles. I smile at your teasing, at the thought of providing you plenty of distraction from your nightmares.
“Yeah,” I say slowly when you mention me getting organized and I’m feeling as reluctant to let you go as you sound. “Guess I should go, actually. Make a few calls, pin down that flight time.”
I’ll be waiting for you, And fuck, and the warmth takes me full force. “Won’t have to wait too long. Going to be so fucking good to see you again,” I say, voice warm and husky. Taking a breath, I add, “Try and get some rest, love.” I can’t help but tack on, “You’re going to need it.”
Karl: Breathing in sharply at your promise, and the warmth of your voice wrapping around me, I manage some sort of noise in agreement.
"I think I'll be able to sleep now . . . thank you." For answering your phone, for keeping me talking all this time until I settled, for dropping everything to come to me when I need you, for giving me something else to focus on.
We say our goodbyes and I put the phone on the bedside table and sink down into the pillows. Imaginings of why I'm going to need my rest flit through my mind as I pull one of the pillows against my chest, curling around it and wishing it was you. My eyelids are heavy and when I close them, this time I see only you.