Title: The Resounding Silence-A Lost Souls Vignette
Author: Sarah
Fandom/Book: Lost Souls
Pairing: Steve/Ghost
Rating: PG
Status: NEW, Complete 3/10/01
Revised: About a million times since then
Posted: 3/16/01
Archive: yes please
Feedback: see above *G* [email protected]
Website: http://www.netcolony.com/entertainment/ratchick/
Series: Can fit loosely behind my last vignette, if you wish.
Summary: "It had been a year since.."
Notes: This is very short. ;-)
Dedication: To Connie. Written for Eric and Rocky and PBU.
Happy Anniversary, List.
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IT HAD BEEN a year since Missing Mile-- a year since they'd left their small town and began touring again-- a year since they had finally gotten together after an eternity of painstaking friendship, unforeseeable terror and unspoken love. This night was no different from any other that had come and passed in the space between this year and last. Traveling on quasi-empty highways in the early morning hours still made the darkness unspeakably eerie. Especially since the two men traveling in it had seen some pretty fucked up shit in their lives.
The low hum of the engine resounded in the otherwise silence. Ghost was still curled up on the seat, his hand limp, yet present against Steve's. Steve drove with the window rolled down, allowing a zephyr of air to seep in, cooling his still overheated features.
This was normal. Comfortable. A post performance routine that they'd settled into with the ease of an old married couple. Steve glanced over at his companion. His face was relaxed in sleep and his too long hair had fallen over his eyes and cheeks, blanketing his face. The paleness of it stood out in the dark car and his striking non-conventional beauty left no room for comparison.
Steve brushed his hand against his friend's, then turned back to the road.
Ghost's nightmares had decreased significantly since their departure from Missing Mile. As did his own. It had taken some time before Ghost could sleep the whole night through. Before he seized to jerk awake and scramble at the bed sheets, and clutch at Steve's arms so fiercely that he would fear the bruising come morning.
Steve had felt powerless at these moments. He would rub Ghost's back, kiss his neck, and hold him tightly, securely, to his body. And then he'd make love to him so gently that those of pleasure would replace the tears of anguish. And Ghost would let himself be held and comforted before settling into a somewhat restful sleep. And in turn, when his own nightmares attacked with a vengeance, Ghost would do his best to hold him and make it known that he was safe here.
As the months had passed, they had become busier, which had allowed Ghost to step outside himself-- to immerse himself in Lost Souls? and Steve. On some days, they would actually appear like any other couple. They would laugh and smile and talk until their throats were sore. And then fuck until other parts were sore. But there was always a darkness that seemed to lurk in the backdrop, wanting to push through. Perhaps it was Ann, Steve would think. But he could never be sure, and he could never ask Ghost. Some things were best left unsaid.
Steve steered the T-bird onto a roadside rest stop and killed the engine. His fingers were sore and his eyes, tired. They were just outside New Orleans. He turned to Ghost and felt a calm wash over him. Lately, things had been better than normal. Lately, Ghost had seemed happy. Or at the very least, content. Steve knew he couldn't make miracles happen, but he did make Ghost less lonely, less empty, just as Ghost did for him. And that was good enough. Divided, they could barely recognize themselves. Together, everything just made sense.
He hovered above his best friend, kissed his slightly roughened lips, and lingered as he began to rise from slumber. Tonight marked a year since their first night together, after the Graveyard. They'd started sharing a bed shortly after the events of that fall, but the atmosphere had always seemed too desolate for anything to happen. That day however, seemed to mark a new beginning. A chance to put the past somewhat behind them.
It had been a night sort of like this. Making out with Ghost on the side of the road in the back seat of the T-bird that first time was probably the most maddeningly erotic thing he'd ever experienced. With each touch of their lips, he felt as if he were breathing in life. He could still remember the breathless moans, the whispered pleas, the utter uncertainty and awkwardness of it all; and at the same time, the knowledge that nothing again would ever feel so goddamn right.
Steve rested his head against the warm chest beneath him. It was just like any other night. But here in the darkness with Ghost's lips on his temple and his hands on his back, Steve thought that maybe it meant a little bit more this time.
And as the last strains of tension seeped from his body, and his eyelids fluttered shut, he gave in to the resounding silence that filled the night sky and allowed sleep to claim him; but not before hearing the soft breeze of warm breath against his ear, and the honey-coated voice of his soul, whispering quietly to him.
