The little AU: Summer Winds: Journey
The little AU: Summer Winds: Journey
slashfairy
~~
There's so much that he's grateful for, he can't begin to list it all.
Mostly, today, he's grateful for his health.
For having flesh again, for not being ropy and dry and hulled out but being muscled and juicy and thick with life. For having mass, for making noise as he strides through the airport, notices and ignores the cameras, hitches his red bag up on his shoulder and sets off home.
He's grateful for home- for all the homes, for being at home in his own skin, for being a citizen of the world and finding something to be home no matter where he lands, so that now, no matter where he is, he is at home even as he leaves one place to head to another with only days to touch down at home, one home, or another.
This week it will be the house at the end of the bluff road. Karl's coming in from New Zealand after visiting Hunter, seeing Craig, being stunned, then pleased, then proud of being given the Qantas award for Best Supporting Actor for Out Of The Blue. The award will stay at Karl's mum's house, but Karl will arrive with photos of the kids his charity supports, with a note from Craig, with pictures drawn by Hunter (who is staying for school this term with his mum, and who also will end up, in the long run, being a man with many homes instead of no home). The house at the end of the bluff road will give them space and time to reconnect, and from the big bed at night they will call Orlando and both talk to him, working out when they can all be together again.
Next week they'll each be somewhere else, the dogs with Henry's friend, the houses looked after by their various minders, the men each with his own itinerary between here and there, between now and now. They'll call each other, they'll write, they'll send gifts and messages and meet up in hotels and at friends' houses and film festivals and charity dos, and each time will be a little bit of nourishment, a little hit to keep them from starving.
He pulls the truck into the driveway, parking it where he always does. The bermuda grass has grown up a bit in the tracks the wheels make, but the sandy soil is still packed hard, and as he gets out, shouldering one bag and pulling the other off the seat, he hears the dogs barking and Henry's friend saying Welcome home, welcome home.
There's so much that he's grateful for, and as much as there are things in his life he admits were mistakes, he wouldn't change a second of it, no sir. It's his life, he's lived it, he's living it still, and every second of it is worth everything it costs, for what it brings.
previously: Composition
next: The Birthday
slashfairy
~~
There's so much that he's grateful for, he can't begin to list it all.
Mostly, today, he's grateful for his health.
For having flesh again, for not being ropy and dry and hulled out but being muscled and juicy and thick with life. For having mass, for making noise as he strides through the airport, notices and ignores the cameras, hitches his red bag up on his shoulder and sets off home.
He's grateful for home- for all the homes, for being at home in his own skin, for being a citizen of the world and finding something to be home no matter where he lands, so that now, no matter where he is, he is at home even as he leaves one place to head to another with only days to touch down at home, one home, or another.
This week it will be the house at the end of the bluff road. Karl's coming in from New Zealand after visiting Hunter, seeing Craig, being stunned, then pleased, then proud of being given the Qantas award for Best Supporting Actor for Out Of The Blue. The award will stay at Karl's mum's house, but Karl will arrive with photos of the kids his charity supports, with a note from Craig, with pictures drawn by Hunter (who is staying for school this term with his mum, and who also will end up, in the long run, being a man with many homes instead of no home). The house at the end of the bluff road will give them space and time to reconnect, and from the big bed at night they will call Orlando and both talk to him, working out when they can all be together again.
Next week they'll each be somewhere else, the dogs with Henry's friend, the houses looked after by their various minders, the men each with his own itinerary between here and there, between now and now. They'll call each other, they'll write, they'll send gifts and messages and meet up in hotels and at friends' houses and film festivals and charity dos, and each time will be a little bit of nourishment, a little hit to keep them from starving.
He pulls the truck into the driveway, parking it where he always does. The bermuda grass has grown up a bit in the tracks the wheels make, but the sandy soil is still packed hard, and as he gets out, shouldering one bag and pulling the other off the seat, he hears the dogs barking and Henry's friend saying Welcome home, welcome home.
There's so much that he's grateful for, and as much as there are things in his life he admits were mistakes, he wouldn't change a second of it, no sir. It's his life, he's lived it, he's living it still, and every second of it is worth everything it costs, for what it brings.
previously: Composition
next: The Birthday