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Apr. 2nd, 2011 12:22 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
scarlettdreamSo I'm taking part in this crazy thing called April fool which is some Due south sponsored madness over at ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
ds_aprilfools
this was posted on April 1st.
Part 1:Breathe
What a sweet crazy pairing:
Lew Ashby & a Mountie, and maybe this isn't the end.
no real warnings
Disclaimer: I don't own these guys and I don't have any money, I'm just doing this because I love them so, so please don't sue me.
Warnings: this story has adult themes, emotions and actions. And lots and lots of swearing.
Moody sounded frantic and far away and Lew wondered why his friend was so wound up, because he was fine. He was just coasting a wave, everything was soft and real fine and a little fuzzy at the edges, just how he liked it. It was cold, maybe colder than he normally liked but even the cold was good today. Cold and smooth and quiet. Quiet. Maybe more quiet than he liked because he could hear that rhythm the one he was always searching for in his music, the one that was usually just out of reach.
But not today.
Today was the best day ever because he was cool and he was fine and he could hear that sweet perfect rhythm. A slow sexy beat you could slow dance to. Something with a little halting catch to it every so often, just to keep it interesting. Something he could imagine Carlos playing. Sweet and tender and hot, like a slow soul fuck. Face to face, breath to breath, no where to hide and no reason to either. Made him feel it in his chest, that kind of emotional shit he normally didn’t do.
And then it hit him.
Was he dying?
He didn’t think so, because dying was supposed to hurt! Wasn’t it something you had to rage against?
Lew took a deep breath, and he just kept on and on breathing in and in until it seemed like he’d breathed the whole world in. And then he stopped, and he was somewhere else.
Looked a lot like Canada to him. Scenery and snow and a lot of chilly blue sky.
Definitely not dying then, because everyone knew that death was more like Haiti in a hurricane. At night. Dying was the smell of incense and spice. Dying was a slow beat and hot suffocating breath that filled your lungs with decay.
This was cold and clean. And wasn’t that a Mountie?
Lew took a few seconds to check out the scenery but when he looked back the Mountie was still there. Bright red jacket, and a pink cheeks, and breath in the air because it was cold, it just didn’t seem to matter.
“Huh.”
Lew was surprised that his own breath was visible in the cold air. If he was dead why was he still breathing?
“You’re not dead, sir. Welcome to the Borderlands, Mr Ashby.”
“Hey, it’s Lew, Mr Ashby was my asshole father, I don’t go by that.”
The Mountie blushed bright red, almost matching his jacket and stuttered, “My apologies Mr.. er… Lew…. Sir. I meant no offence.”
The guy looked as if he might be about to cry and Lew felt like a total asshole for doing that. Especially as maybe this guy was some kind of an Angel or something, if this was the afterlife. The guy said he wasn’t dead, but Lew wasn’t so sure about that.
“No really you’re not dead….. and I’m certainly not an Angel.” Mountie guy mumbled that last part, blushing again. And then it struck Lew that he hadn’t said any of that out loud and yet they seemed to be
“Having a conversation. Yes, I know it is very disconcerting to begin with, but after a while you get used to it.” The Mountie gave him a quirky little smile and continued. “I have seen a few people here come and go. The ones who go on don’t hear me, and I don’t hear them. It’s like there’s a wall of glass between us. If you try really hard you can make out something, but it’s difficult. But the ones who go back, like you, we can communicate effortlessly.”
“So I’ll be going back?”
“Oh absolutely, Mr Ash… I mean Lew. Yes you are so clear it’s almost as if I could reach out and… Oh!” The Mountie’s palm cupped Lew’s cheek, “I’ve never…” His fingers were cold, so cold as they rested on Lew’s skin, as his thumb stroked along his jaw, “I can touch…”
It was as if all the air had been sucked out of him.
Lew felt a pull deep in his chest and he was staggering. Suddenly he was far away from the Mountie.
“Hey, who are you? Where are you?”
Sound seemed to implode in on itself, dull and numb. Lew couldn’t hear what the guy was saying. He could see his lips moving, and he could hear a kind of soft low murmur, but none of the words made sense. The guy seemed to be saying something about a bus? And rent a field? But the pain in his chest mad everything fade and he was sliping away.
When Lew opened his eyes he almost wished he was back in the snow and the cold, high mountains of Canada. He wished he hadn’t made it back. He wished each breath wasn't like a kinfe cutting deep and cold in his chest. He wished he could rest a while in the snow, safe in the Borderlands.
link to part 2
ds_aprilfoolsthis was posted on April 1st.
Part 1:Breathe
What a sweet crazy pairing:
Lew Ashby & a Mountie, and maybe this isn't the end.
no real warnings
Disclaimer: I don't own these guys and I don't have any money, I'm just doing this because I love them so, so please don't sue me.
Warnings: this story has adult themes, emotions and actions. And lots and lots of swearing.
Moody sounded frantic and far away and Lew wondered why his friend was so wound up, because he was fine. He was just coasting a wave, everything was soft and real fine and a little fuzzy at the edges, just how he liked it. It was cold, maybe colder than he normally liked but even the cold was good today. Cold and smooth and quiet. Quiet. Maybe more quiet than he liked because he could hear that rhythm the one he was always searching for in his music, the one that was usually just out of reach.
But not today.
Today was the best day ever because he was cool and he was fine and he could hear that sweet perfect rhythm. A slow sexy beat you could slow dance to. Something with a little halting catch to it every so often, just to keep it interesting. Something he could imagine Carlos playing. Sweet and tender and hot, like a slow soul fuck. Face to face, breath to breath, no where to hide and no reason to either. Made him feel it in his chest, that kind of emotional shit he normally didn’t do.
And then it hit him.
Was he dying?
He didn’t think so, because dying was supposed to hurt! Wasn’t it something you had to rage against?
Lew took a deep breath, and he just kept on and on breathing in and in until it seemed like he’d breathed the whole world in. And then he stopped, and he was somewhere else.
Looked a lot like Canada to him. Scenery and snow and a lot of chilly blue sky.
Definitely not dying then, because everyone knew that death was more like Haiti in a hurricane. At night. Dying was the smell of incense and spice. Dying was a slow beat and hot suffocating breath that filled your lungs with decay.
This was cold and clean. And wasn’t that a Mountie?
Lew took a few seconds to check out the scenery but when he looked back the Mountie was still there. Bright red jacket, and a pink cheeks, and breath in the air because it was cold, it just didn’t seem to matter.
“Huh.”
Lew was surprised that his own breath was visible in the cold air. If he was dead why was he still breathing?
“You’re not dead, sir. Welcome to the Borderlands, Mr Ashby.”
“Hey, it’s Lew, Mr Ashby was my asshole father, I don’t go by that.”
The Mountie blushed bright red, almost matching his jacket and stuttered, “My apologies Mr.. er… Lew…. Sir. I meant no offence.”
The guy looked as if he might be about to cry and Lew felt like a total asshole for doing that. Especially as maybe this guy was some kind of an Angel or something, if this was the afterlife. The guy said he wasn’t dead, but Lew wasn’t so sure about that.
“No really you’re not dead….. and I’m certainly not an Angel.” Mountie guy mumbled that last part, blushing again. And then it struck Lew that he hadn’t said any of that out loud and yet they seemed to be
“Having a conversation. Yes, I know it is very disconcerting to begin with, but after a while you get used to it.” The Mountie gave him a quirky little smile and continued. “I have seen a few people here come and go. The ones who go on don’t hear me, and I don’t hear them. It’s like there’s a wall of glass between us. If you try really hard you can make out something, but it’s difficult. But the ones who go back, like you, we can communicate effortlessly.”
“So I’ll be going back?”
“Oh absolutely, Mr Ash… I mean Lew. Yes you are so clear it’s almost as if I could reach out and… Oh!” The Mountie’s palm cupped Lew’s cheek, “I’ve never…” His fingers were cold, so cold as they rested on Lew’s skin, as his thumb stroked along his jaw, “I can touch…”
It was as if all the air had been sucked out of him.
Lew felt a pull deep in his chest and he was staggering. Suddenly he was far away from the Mountie.
“Hey, who are you? Where are you?”
Sound seemed to implode in on itself, dull and numb. Lew couldn’t hear what the guy was saying. He could see his lips moving, and he could hear a kind of soft low murmur, but none of the words made sense. The guy seemed to be saying something about a bus? And rent a field? But the pain in his chest mad everything fade and he was sliping away.
When Lew opened his eyes he almost wished he was back in the snow and the cold, high mountains of Canada. He wished he hadn’t made it back. He wished each breath wasn't like a kinfe cutting deep and cold in his chest. He wished he could rest a while in the snow, safe in the Borderlands.
link to part 2
