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[...words like violence...]
I drabbled. Thrice. The first two drabbles contain incest, so be warned.
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zehara, the BDS drabble is for you, because don't think I've forgotten. I've not forgotten, I'm just a bum, and that drabble is only the beginning. I apologize for being a tardy 'tard; feel free to send me drop-kicks through the mail. :(
Enjoy the Silence
a study of dead air in three movements. R.
do as i do not as i say
i.
"So what would that make us?" asks Casey. "We're just Affleck, unless you want to go for first names, in which case, we are Casen. Caben."
And it creeps Ben out, the way Casey's just talking about this so casually. It's not... it's a not a thing to be taken so casually. In fact it's not a thing to be taken at all. Don't ask, don't tell, don't even fucking say anything. Just do.
"Or Basey," says Casey. "That's good, too."
This is not the kind of pillow talk Ben is ready for. He fucks Casey, sure, and he lets Casey fuck him, kiss him, touch him, all the things you can do with your mind turned off and your body on autopilot. But Ben is not ready to say, "Hey, lil' bro, I just had my dick up your ass," and he wishes Casey would just stop talking.
"You have to admit Basey sounds a hell of a lot cooler than Bennifer."
And Ben kisses him, because sometimes you have to make your wishes come true yourself. Sometimes, like now, there are even side benefits.
ii.
There are new cracks in the window and autumn is fast approaching: not an ideal combination. They buy duct tape from the corner store and tape over what they can, and then some. When they're done, you can see less than half the window through all the tape, because when it comes to keeping things ship-shape, they're overzealous, which is something their mother beat into them.
They do the taping-up together even though one person's enough, because there's nothing else they'd rather do. Clarification: nothing else to do, really, except be with each other, and Connor wonders if they're playing the 'strangers in a strange land' card for far too long. They've been a few months in Boston, shouldn't they stop holding on so tightly to each other already?
"That's where you're wrong," says Murphy, duct taping Connor's wrists together. "You think we should let go of each other so we can be normal again? We are normal. This is normal. You and me and no one else, that's what's regular and always has been."
Fucking you isn't normal, it's a new thing, is what Connor wants to say, but he can't because Connor&Murphy only exists in the moments when they're tangled together, all sweat and sex. In the end, words are very unnecessary because they can only do harm. Connor doesn't say anything, just closes his eyes and lets Murphy push him down to the mattress.
Murphy's wasting the duct tape, Connor points out as his brother tapes Connor's wrists to the wall.
Murphy unzips Connor's trousers and replies, "Shut up."
iii.
Alex is driving, so he has his eyes on the road. He still notices Eric looking at him. Just these sidelong glances that Alex doesn't know the meaning of. Usually he wouldn't think about small shit like this, but he's going to die today and for some reason this makes everything clear and bright and easy to absorb. There's a clarity. The world is distinct and high-contrast and it's like he's in Nirvana. He's so calm.
Maybe it's about the shower. Alex wouldn't be surprised. Eric was the one who tried to touch Alex's dick while they were kissing. Alex jerked away, or pushed Eric away, he can't remember now. They stood on opposite sides of the shower, which wasn't very far, and then they were just quiet for a while. When Eric tried to kiss him again (without the groping), Alex let him.
Maybe Eric is being shifty because he has second thoughts about today. He wants Alex to stop the car and turn it around. Maybe Eric wants the car to never stop. Maybe they'd look at each other and there'd just be this silent understanding. They will keep on driving down this road, down to the school, past the school, keep on going, keep on going, past city limits, past any limits, driving and driving until the world finally makes sense. Until they find a second chance.
Maybe that is what Eric wants.
What Alex knows is this: they have guns and today people will die. This ball is rolling and it can't (won't) be stopped. There is nothing he can do (will do). This lack of choice, this surrender to the inevitable, it's a kind of freedom. If you're left with no choice, you don't have to worry about making the wrong choice and suddenly everything's so easy.
"Fuck, man," Eric says arbitrarily, and Alex says nothing. There is nothing to say. There are only things that are, and it's easier this way. All you have to do is sit back, wait, and enjoy the silence.
[end.]
"Words like violence" and "Words are very unnecessary/They can only do harm" from the titular song by Depeche Mode.
zehara, the BDS drabble is for you, because don't think I've forgotten. I've not forgotten, I'm just a bum, and that drabble is only the beginning. I apologize for being a tardy 'tard; feel free to send me drop-kicks through the mail. :(Enjoy the Silence
a study of dead air in three movements. R.
do as i do not as i say
i.
"So what would that make us?" asks Casey. "We're just Affleck, unless you want to go for first names, in which case, we are Casen. Caben."
And it creeps Ben out, the way Casey's just talking about this so casually. It's not... it's a not a thing to be taken so casually. In fact it's not a thing to be taken at all. Don't ask, don't tell, don't even fucking say anything. Just do.
"Or Basey," says Casey. "That's good, too."
This is not the kind of pillow talk Ben is ready for. He fucks Casey, sure, and he lets Casey fuck him, kiss him, touch him, all the things you can do with your mind turned off and your body on autopilot. But Ben is not ready to say, "Hey, lil' bro, I just had my dick up your ass," and he wishes Casey would just stop talking.
"You have to admit Basey sounds a hell of a lot cooler than Bennifer."
And Ben kisses him, because sometimes you have to make your wishes come true yourself. Sometimes, like now, there are even side benefits.
ii.
There are new cracks in the window and autumn is fast approaching: not an ideal combination. They buy duct tape from the corner store and tape over what they can, and then some. When they're done, you can see less than half the window through all the tape, because when it comes to keeping things ship-shape, they're overzealous, which is something their mother beat into them.
They do the taping-up together even though one person's enough, because there's nothing else they'd rather do. Clarification: nothing else to do, really, except be with each other, and Connor wonders if they're playing the 'strangers in a strange land' card for far too long. They've been a few months in Boston, shouldn't they stop holding on so tightly to each other already?
"That's where you're wrong," says Murphy, duct taping Connor's wrists together. "You think we should let go of each other so we can be normal again? We are normal. This is normal. You and me and no one else, that's what's regular and always has been."
Fucking you isn't normal, it's a new thing, is what Connor wants to say, but he can't because Connor&Murphy only exists in the moments when they're tangled together, all sweat and sex. In the end, words are very unnecessary because they can only do harm. Connor doesn't say anything, just closes his eyes and lets Murphy push him down to the mattress.
Murphy's wasting the duct tape, Connor points out as his brother tapes Connor's wrists to the wall.
Murphy unzips Connor's trousers and replies, "Shut up."
iii.
Alex is driving, so he has his eyes on the road. He still notices Eric looking at him. Just these sidelong glances that Alex doesn't know the meaning of. Usually he wouldn't think about small shit like this, but he's going to die today and for some reason this makes everything clear and bright and easy to absorb. There's a clarity. The world is distinct and high-contrast and it's like he's in Nirvana. He's so calm.
Maybe it's about the shower. Alex wouldn't be surprised. Eric was the one who tried to touch Alex's dick while they were kissing. Alex jerked away, or pushed Eric away, he can't remember now. They stood on opposite sides of the shower, which wasn't very far, and then they were just quiet for a while. When Eric tried to kiss him again (without the groping), Alex let him.
Maybe Eric is being shifty because he has second thoughts about today. He wants Alex to stop the car and turn it around. Maybe Eric wants the car to never stop. Maybe they'd look at each other and there'd just be this silent understanding. They will keep on driving down this road, down to the school, past the school, keep on going, keep on going, past city limits, past any limits, driving and driving until the world finally makes sense. Until they find a second chance.
Maybe that is what Eric wants.
What Alex knows is this: they have guns and today people will die. This ball is rolling and it can't (won't) be stopped. There is nothing he can do (will do). This lack of choice, this surrender to the inevitable, it's a kind of freedom. If you're left with no choice, you don't have to worry about making the wrong choice and suddenly everything's so easy.
"Fuck, man," Eric says arbitrarily, and Alex says nothing. There is nothing to say. There are only things that are, and it's easier this way. All you have to do is sit back, wait, and enjoy the silence.
[end.]
"Words like violence" and "Words are very unnecessary/They can only do harm" from the titular song by Depeche Mode.
no subject
Ya! Gotta mix it up, y'know. Keeps us on our toes. ;)
And thank yooouuu.