So, it's not Little Red Riding Fox. No, that's coming at a later date. I haven't actually started it, to be honest, and god knows why, considering how easy that thing should be, but...no. Unfortunately, I wrote this instead. Took me about seven and a half hours, no breaks. Well, one bathroom break. So...seriously, don't hate me for writing this. I'm apologizing in advance because of the pairing. I really hope this doesn't offend you. Because...well...I feel a bit like I'm slaughtering a sacred cow. Sacred cows. Maybe I'm overreacting. All I can say is read at your own risk. I am of course talking directly to you, because I know no one else reads this journal. No one that I'm aware of, anyway. Oh, god.
Title: Living Waters
Warnings: Dark but not.
Summary: California sun, California fun. Maybe a dream. Or a nightmare.
Note from author: I was listening to nothing but Pavement and SM and Silver Jews until a little more than half-way through, at which point I listened to The 13th Floor Elevators' cover of "It's All Over Now, Baby Blue" on repeat. You may notice that there are probably at least thirty separate references to RH songs, and a few to the aforementioned bands, and a few to Syd. It just happened. Whatevs. Also, the pairing…um, yeah. Well, I first thought of them about three and a half years ago, maybe four. I just feel that it’s…appropriate. I have a real affection for these two on their own as it is, so together…I don’t know, it just works for me. This 'takes place' in 2001, or at least they look like they did that year. Just because. And the title is pinched from the Silver Jews' Starlite Walker. The working title was "Trains Across the Sea", from the same record, but I thought maybe that was a bit too obvious, or easy or something. So.
Two bare feet were buried ankle-deep in the beach, a few meters from the foaming surf. The California sun had always suited him, as well it should, seeing as it alone had blessed his little golden head with its white golden rays. Big, bright sun, high sun, no clouds and no escape from the heat that was only intensified by the spray of the heavy wet waves. A pair of eyes fancied they could see steam rising from the water like tea in a kettle, and it boiled over with a shrill whistle.
One head turned and smiled in the air with a mouth.
It’s a sweet mouth.
Two decidedly different feet moved evenly pf pf pf pf, padding down to meet and greet the other feet.
My body rhymes with your body.
Two sets of feet with twenty toes stood and wiggled beside each other.
He tweaked his bent nose gently and gave a little look.
A look like, Hey, how about the ocean?
Yeah, how about that?
His hair swayed slightly in the blistering hot breeze, and a grin crept up and broke slowly over his face, white rabbit with a message.
This one is yours.
Feeling young and dignified, he strutted in sand to splash in water like a real cool Cali kid, bending his spine to slap the surface with his palms.
He waded in deep, seas up to his knees, and then to his thighs, and then to his hips, and his waist, and his hollow bird chest buoyed him momentarily before sinking him just below his clavicle. Cool, calm liquid carried him gradually further from the shore. He could see the morning star burning orange like a great pumpkin rolling along the horizon.
What’s up, Slim?
His face was still hot as ever, saltwater lapping and licking at his hair and chin.
We’re up to our necks.
His skin glistened with sweat. He felt like he was a marlin steak marinating in the tangy brine, golden brown sunshine lemon butter sauce with a hint of peppercorn and garlic and something else…
You’re cooking quite nicely.
He felt a sudden shade creep over him then and in an instant he was submerged, intense pressure slammed flat on his cranium, jarring him and pushing him downward into inky darkness. His bones rattled like the desert at night and he thrashed fiercely about, kicking and flailing his life away.
I can take you down.
One long pair of eyes were wide open and stinging as they rolled about, unable to focus in their confusion.
Two underwater ears thought they could hear a warbled steam whistle and the softly muffled quick clickity-clacks of iron tracks in the murky distance.
Everything was pea-green and dark blue.
And then he was being pulled upward. Within moments his head broke the black shiny surface and he coughed and sputtered and breathed, acrid air rushing into his nostrils, his lungs punching carbon dioxide out to mingle with oxygen once again.
As he sluggishly began to open his eyes he felt the soggy tentacles of the giant squid wrap themselves about his narrow frame, slithering from behind, pressing its body against his, and he gasped in spite of himself. He felt the monster’s horrid suction cups sucking at his neck, slimy tendrils dipping into his ear, tracing it like a bleached conch, and its mighty beak nibbled a trail of destruction along his jawline. When it reached his lips, he knew it would be a veritable maritime disaster.
But it was soft, and there was a tongue, much like his own, and teeth, sort've like his own, and a nose, not at all like his own, but a pair of eyes that seeped their way into his brain to drip and slip like a cracked egg. Completely fried. Or over-easy…
His face was turned sunny-side up and two firm hands clasped his skull and held it comfortingly. He was soaked and choked and tired as hell, but he was alright. He saw his reflection now, and it was bronze and midnight and stars floating like raw diamonds from somebody’s pupils, streaming moonlight. He wasn’t crying. He knew what was happening. He knew it was alright.
He was in the arms of love.
There was a fire smoldering somewhere inland. Hovering beside his other body, he laughed, ringing clear as bells, because he knew that when he reached the shore, he would stare into that fiery pit and find the bones of something beautiful.
His own skull, grinning.