FIC: I Need You To Be You
Title: I Need You To Be You
Author: Cassie Morgan
badfalcon
Fandom: Kane RPS
Categories: Christian Kane/Steve Carlson, angst, h/c
Rating: PG-13
Thanks to: You, for reading this.
celtprincess13 as ever, for the beta.
Disclaimer: Christian Kane & Steve Carlson are real people, and the events in this story are just that - fictional, figments of my sick and twisted imagination. Hell, call it a fantasy if it makes you feel better. Whatever. No rumours should be started in regards to any events in these works of fiction. This story is written purely for entertainment purposes and no money is being made out of it.
Note: This is potentially a scene from a longer fic that I'm possibly planning on maybe writing - since I'm not sure about that, I'm posting this is a stand-alone vignette
Summary: Christian and Steve need to come to an understanding about how things need to be in their life.
"Steve?" Christian kicked his boots off as he closed the door behind him. He took a deep breath, pushing his hair back from his face and tamping down the nervous butterflies in his stomach. "You home, darlin'?" Dropping his keys to the coffee table, he walked into the kitchen and poured a mug of coffee. The maker was still hot, he noted, so Steve must be home. He called out to Steve again, his mind whirring and his stomach churning, remembering the way he'd yelled before storming out and slamming the door behind him earlier that afternoon. "Steve?"
Pushing the bathroom door open he found Steve, sat on the floor, back to the wall, knees against his chest and arms wrapped around his legs. Steve's face was pale and his eyes red and swollen.
"Stevie?" Christian eased himself down to sit next to Steve, not touching, staring straight ahead at the wall. His eyes traced the grouting between the tiles, half-making a mental note that one of the tiles was cracked and needed repairing or replacing. He shook his head and leaned it back against the wall behind him. He bent his knees, arms crossed on top of them. He knocked his knees against Steve's, smiling when Steve returned the touch.
"If I can look after you it means you're still alive," Steve whispered, still not looking at Christian still staring at the wall opposite, tears running down his cheek. He reached up to brush them away, starting when Christian took his hand, squeezed his fingers gently.
"I..." Christian sighed and closed his eyes. He opened and closed his mouth wordlessly before apologising softly. "I'm an ass." He paused, searching for words. "I get that. I do. I really do."
"But," Steve prompted when Christian fell quiet again.
"I'm scared," Christian whispered, his voice breaking. "I ain't got a clue what's going on, what's gonna happen an' I can't do anythin' an'...An' I know you're scared too and I get it. I do. If this was you, I'd... I'd... I don't..."
Steve squeezed Christian's hand, studiously ignoring his tears. "You'd wrap me up in bubble wrap and never let me let the house?" Steve suggested, his tone making it clear that was exactly what he wanted to do to Christian.
"Pretty much, yeah." The corners of Christian's lips twitched up, despite the tears spilling from his eyes. "But that..." he exhaled softly. "That ain't us; it ain't you and it ain't me and somehow this all scares me even more. I need you and me to make sense, to be normal when nothin' else is." He bent forward, curling in on himself and resting his head on his knees, turning to face Steve, eyes fixed on Steve's. "I don't need you looking after me, darlin'. I just need you to be you."
"Chris, I..."
Christian exhaled shakily, his hands opening and closing into fists against his legs, fingers digging into the denim. "Maybe I'm being hypocritical," he shrugged, "an' I know I'm bein' selfish, Steve, but I... you..." he broke off, licking his lips and reached out for Steve again. "I can't do this without you, I need you here, but I need you to be my Steve, not my mama. I need you to be the Steve who tells me to stop being cranky at Perky when she's all fuckin' perky that early in the mornin'. I need you to the Steve who... who... You've always been the first to put me right or cuss me out when I say or do somethin' stupid and I need you to... Can you do that for me, Steve? Please?"
Steve stretched his legs out in front of him and nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, OK." He turned to face Christian, cupping his face in his hands. Kissing him softly on the lips, he rested their foreheads against each other. “I love you, Christian. And you're sick, so my instinct is always gonna be to look out for you. But I promise to try, that's all I can do.”
“That's all I ask.”
Steve nodded and pulled back, pressing a kiss to Christian's forehead, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. “You really do need to stop being so mean to Perky; if you bothered to get to know her, she's actually pretty nice.”
“You ain't the one she's pokin' with needles all the time!” Christian groused, leaning sideways against Steve.
“That's why you need to be nice to her - be nice and she won't hurt you as much. Besides, cute blonde in a nurses uniform, remember?”
“I'd rather have you as the cute blonde in a nurses uniform,” Christian laughed. He rested his head on Steve's shoulder and pressed a kiss to his neck. Sitting here, on the bathroom floor, with Steve's arm around him, for the first time he thought that maybe, just maybe, they'd get through this.
~El Fin~
Author: Cassie Morgan
badfalcon
Fandom: Kane RPS
Categories: Christian Kane/Steve Carlson, angst, h/c
Rating: PG-13
Thanks to: You, for reading this.
celtprincess13 as ever, for the beta.
Disclaimer: Christian Kane & Steve Carlson are real people, and the events in this story are just that - fictional, figments of my sick and twisted imagination. Hell, call it a fantasy if it makes you feel better. Whatever. No rumours should be started in regards to any events in these works of fiction. This story is written purely for entertainment purposes and no money is being made out of it.
Note: This is potentially a scene from a longer fic that I'm possibly planning on maybe writing - since I'm not sure about that, I'm posting this is a stand-alone vignette
Summary: Christian and Steve need to come to an understanding about how things need to be in their life.
"Steve?" Christian kicked his boots off as he closed the door behind him. He took a deep breath, pushing his hair back from his face and tamping down the nervous butterflies in his stomach. "You home, darlin'?" Dropping his keys to the coffee table, he walked into the kitchen and poured a mug of coffee. The maker was still hot, he noted, so Steve must be home. He called out to Steve again, his mind whirring and his stomach churning, remembering the way he'd yelled before storming out and slamming the door behind him earlier that afternoon. "Steve?"
Pushing the bathroom door open he found Steve, sat on the floor, back to the wall, knees against his chest and arms wrapped around his legs. Steve's face was pale and his eyes red and swollen.
"Stevie?" Christian eased himself down to sit next to Steve, not touching, staring straight ahead at the wall. His eyes traced the grouting between the tiles, half-making a mental note that one of the tiles was cracked and needed repairing or replacing. He shook his head and leaned it back against the wall behind him. He bent his knees, arms crossed on top of them. He knocked his knees against Steve's, smiling when Steve returned the touch.
"If I can look after you it means you're still alive," Steve whispered, still not looking at Christian still staring at the wall opposite, tears running down his cheek. He reached up to brush them away, starting when Christian took his hand, squeezed his fingers gently.
"I..." Christian sighed and closed his eyes. He opened and closed his mouth wordlessly before apologising softly. "I'm an ass." He paused, searching for words. "I get that. I do. I really do."
"But," Steve prompted when Christian fell quiet again.
"I'm scared," Christian whispered, his voice breaking. "I ain't got a clue what's going on, what's gonna happen an' I can't do anythin' an'...An' I know you're scared too and I get it. I do. If this was you, I'd... I'd... I don't..."
Steve squeezed Christian's hand, studiously ignoring his tears. "You'd wrap me up in bubble wrap and never let me let the house?" Steve suggested, his tone making it clear that was exactly what he wanted to do to Christian.
"Pretty much, yeah." The corners of Christian's lips twitched up, despite the tears spilling from his eyes. "But that..." he exhaled softly. "That ain't us; it ain't you and it ain't me and somehow this all scares me even more. I need you and me to make sense, to be normal when nothin' else is." He bent forward, curling in on himself and resting his head on his knees, turning to face Steve, eyes fixed on Steve's. "I don't need you looking after me, darlin'. I just need you to be you."
"Chris, I..."
Christian exhaled shakily, his hands opening and closing into fists against his legs, fingers digging into the denim. "Maybe I'm being hypocritical," he shrugged, "an' I know I'm bein' selfish, Steve, but I... you..." he broke off, licking his lips and reached out for Steve again. "I can't do this without you, I need you here, but I need you to be my Steve, not my mama. I need you to be the Steve who tells me to stop being cranky at Perky when she's all fuckin' perky that early in the mornin'. I need you to the Steve who... who... You've always been the first to put me right or cuss me out when I say or do somethin' stupid and I need you to... Can you do that for me, Steve? Please?"
Steve stretched his legs out in front of him and nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, OK." He turned to face Christian, cupping his face in his hands. Kissing him softly on the lips, he rested their foreheads against each other. “I love you, Christian. And you're sick, so my instinct is always gonna be to look out for you. But I promise to try, that's all I can do.”
“That's all I ask.”
Steve nodded and pulled back, pressing a kiss to Christian's forehead, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. “You really do need to stop being so mean to Perky; if you bothered to get to know her, she's actually pretty nice.”
“You ain't the one she's pokin' with needles all the time!” Christian groused, leaning sideways against Steve.
“That's why you need to be nice to her - be nice and she won't hurt you as much. Besides, cute blonde in a nurses uniform, remember?”
“I'd rather have you as the cute blonde in a nurses uniform,” Christian laughed. He rested his head on Steve's shoulder and pressed a kiss to his neck. Sitting here, on the bathroom floor, with Steve's arm around him, for the first time he thought that maybe, just maybe, they'd get through this.
~El Fin~