vervaceous: (kiss)
[personal profile] vervaceous
Title: Yonder
Fandom: Harsh Realm/Memphis Belle (Tabula Rasa 'verse)
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 940
Summary: Little thing for [ profile] _shades_. Brief scenes from the life of two romantic surrogates.

There's never any lying, never any illusion about what it is, about what they are for each other. They're each other's surrogates for something else, something lost and left behind, and the fact that they both know this, that they admit it to themselves and to each other, it doesn't make it any less sweet to wake up curled around each other and still damp from the night before, sweat and come and carelessness. They're each standing in for what the other doesn't have, but when they look at each other, they see what's there.

It's sweet. It's good. It's enough.

* * *

"Maybe we could get her flying again."

They're lying on the floor of the big plane as it creaks and rocks gently in the trees, blankets pooled around them, sun slanting across bare skin and Danny's red hair glinting gold wire. Mike reaches up and slides his fingers through it; the red is something that catches his attention all on its own. He never had a thing for redheads. Blondes were always more his scene.

But maybe he could be converted.

Danny laughs and shakes his head, turning a little into Mike's hand where he's propped up on one arm, pale and skinny and still flushed in the chest and cheeks. "And who's gonna fly it, Mike? All I ever did was work the radio, you know that."

"I dunno." Mike shrugs, turns on his stomach as the plane creaks again, comfortably. Once he had worried that it might fall. Now he knows it won't. Nothing can bring it down. "Was just an idea."

"Wouldn't feel right without the rest of the boys," Danny murmurs, sliding a hand along the curves and angles of Mike's bare back, leaning in and pressing a kiss to the corner of his shoulder blade. "It's okay. She's already in the air, isn't she?"

And, pressing up under that kiss, that mouth, Mike supposes that's true.

* * *

"Don't watch it."

Mike looks up sharply, one hand still on the reel. The letters printed on the side are large and black and he knows Danny must be able to read them from across the room. He hadn't been looking for it but he'd found it, the name had pulled him in. How can you not watch something with a name like that? How can you not watch it, just to get a glimpse of what you used to have.

Danny takes a step forward, shaking his head. "Just don't. It's not gonna make you happy."

In spite of everything, Mike finds himself bristling. He's never said a harsh word to Danny, never even really raised his voice. He's not sure why such gentleness should be brought out of him by this man, this kid, really, when he'd never had any gentleness to spare for the man Danny is replacing.

Except maybe that's exactly why.

But now he's bristling, scowling, pulling the reel away as though he thinks Danny might try to take it from him. "It's my fucking life," he says. "How do you know what's gonna make me happy?"

"You never talk about that place like anything good was there," Danny murmurs. He is putting a hand out as he moves forward again, but to touch, not to take. "Why do you wanna go back there again?"

Mike stands, mute and stubborn, watching Danny approach him like he's approaching an angry, cornered animal, and somehow that hurts worse than anything else.

Danny knows why. As the reason starts to move forward in his mind, his eyes widen and he drops his hand, letting it swing uselessly at his side like it's gone numb. Just for a moment, misery twists his face.

"I can't stop you," he mutters. "If you're gonna... I can't stop you."

Mike stares at him for a moment. Danny is right. He can't. He knows Danny well enough to know that he wouldn't even try, not really; this has been far too much pleading for any attempt to control.

And he hates that.

So he turns after another moment or two and slides the reel back onto the shelf, and Danny almost goes limp when Mike pulls him into his arms, and for another few moments they just stand there, holding on, breathing while worlds far apart spiral away from each other again.

* * *

Danny leans back on the hill and stares up, mouth a little open and looking so young in the twilight that Mike almost aches. "Great big sky up there," Danny murmurs. "One time, I thought that was all I wanted." He turns to Mike and smiles. "Still wouldn't mind getting back up there."

"Maybe someday." Mike shifts a little closer, one hand against Danny's hip, a picnic dinner of cold fowl and fruit forgotten on the blanket next to them. Danny comes from a world gripped by war, but Danny comes from a much better place. Open skies, good friends, love that, though it has to stay hidden, doesn't have to be quite so afraid.

He thinks about it and he feels choked, so he tries not to.

"Someday. Not now." Danny turns and cups his cheek, and the kiss is soft and slow and it melts away all the tension in Mike's chest. "I'll be here until you get him back," Danny whispers, and Mike shakes his head, holding on more fiercely. That's not the deal.

"I'll be here until you get him back."

Danny laughs and drops onto his back in the grass, pulling Mike with him. "Whichever, Mike. The great big sky ain't going nowhere."

And he supposes that's true as well.

Date: 2009-10-09 03:56 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Oh, MAN. Ask and ye shall receive. I always loved them, even though it was really only one thread, it was perfect, and so is this. I love them being together and understanding it for what it is and looking out for one another and the Belle...! I miss the Belle. I miss all of this.

You're my favorite. This is SO freaking perfect, so I also just hate you a little bit.



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