Fanfic: Solace (1/1)

[smokingmirror]

Title: Solace
Author: Avarice
Rating: PG
Pairing: Fox/Collin
Spoilers: -
Summary: Fox and Collin need to make up.
Word Count: 791
Date First Posted: 17-04-2003
Date Revised: 26-05-2011
Beta: -
Awards: -
Notes: Collin POV. Another one of those fics inspired by the goings on at the Fox and Collin LJs. Oh, how I miss those. Anyway, the boys had funny situations back then. Collin would feel down sometimes, but not for any particularly nameable reason, and his inability to explain to Fox why he was down would sometimes cause problems. He felt like he had to have a reason, and Fox did too, in a way. Silly Fox. But Collin's learning about how a proper relationship works, and rather than be avoidant he does pursue the boy and clears the air.
Feedback: always welcome, as is constructive criticism.
Also Archived At: LJ

The bedroom is quiet when I enter. It's been at least 20 minutes since he abruptly left me alone in the living room. In that time I've contemplated many things. Drinking myself to sleep, pulling out the foldout for the night, slicing some soft part of me with my shaving razor.

He's upset because he's confused and I won't talk to him. I'm upset because... well that's the reason. I don't fucking know why, and I'm stupid. And I can't tell him I'm depressed when I have no reason to be, because that's even more idiotic. So I close off from him, and he hurts.

I hurt.

He's awake. The room is dark and silent, but I can hear his breathing. It's the irregular breathing of wakefulness. There's also a hitch every once in a while, like it chokes him.

Fox is in his own bed. Somehow, that brings it home. I have never minded sharing my bed with him. We often use mine instead of his, it makes me feel good. But for some reason, I always hesitate just a bit when crawling into his, like I'm intruding. Like he could turn around and tell me he really doesn't feel like sharing, would I mind being in my own?

I get changed in the dark. Jeans, shirt, sneakers and socks off. I feel self-conscious and pull on some sweatpants and an old shirt. My night vision doesn't suck. Fucking bully for me.

Just means I can actually see him. He's lying flat on his back, sheets coming up to the middle of his chest. There are subtle rustling sounds as his feet kick fitfully. I can see that his eyes are open, staring at the ceiling. They catch the tiny bit of light leaking out from the other room. That light cruelly illuminates his beautiful face just enough to make me feel like shit.

But it's not about him, or me, even. It's not about us as separate people. It's about us together and making everything all right again. Christ, I just want everything to be all right again.

I want...

I can't help the choke, the sob that gets caught in my throat. It's enough to make him look towards me, and that's enough for me. It's all I can take. No, even now, I can't get into my bed alone. Not without him. Not ever again.

I fling myself on his bed, hearing the 'oof' he makes as the mattress bounces. It doesn't matter. My arms wrap around him tightly, constricting, but his come around me as well. One hand cradles the back of my head, fingers buried in my hair, the other fists itself in my shirt. I nearly cry in relief and I bury my face into his neck.

"Fox I'm sorry I don't want to hurt you or me but I couldn't help I don't know why and I can't put it into words properly andyouwereaskingmewhyand--"

I try to explain, I hiccup and try, but it doesn't make any sense to me let alone him. He hugs me and has the same hitched breaths I do. Words run dry and I soon have none left. It's then I become aware that he'd been talking to me the whole time. Repeating "I love you" and "it's alright".

I could die in this moment listening to the sound of his voice telling me that. Not because it's false, but because it's true. I could die having lived to see someone actually love me; I didn't think that would happen.

But I wouldn't want to die and be separated. Not without him. Not ever again.

He shifts underneath me, but it's only to move over and pull the covers up so I am underneath them. I hook a leg around his waist, he tangles his with mine. We curl around each other, touching from feet to cheek. He still hasn't let go of me. I don't want him to. Please don't let go of me.

The hand that had grabbed a handful of shirt material has relaxed but still splayed over my back. Fingers circle lazy patterns. We're so close and yet still unable to keep still. My fingers run through the ducktail tuft at the back of his neck. He uses his nose and cheek to constantly rub and nuzzle my face, making noises that are so comforting.

We lie pressed together for so long that he actually starts to fall asleep. His breathing evens out beneath me, chest rising and falling slowly. And yet his tight grip on me doesn't loosen. I kiss the corner of his mouth and reposition myself with our heads together. "I love you, Kailen," I whisper. He pulls me even closer unconsciously, and I am safe again.

~finis