Drabble #2 (Skull/Kush)
Title: -
Pairing: Skull/Kush
Rating: R
A/N: Inspired by actual footage shot right before Skull left for the army. (The relevant part starts at 2:50.) Also relevant is the fact that Skull had to be treated for cirrhosis before starting his military service.
Skull drops by the studios to say goodbye, and Kush's stomach drops when he sees him with his dreadlocks shorn off and his eyes full of resignation, ready to serve a nation he doesn't even believe in anymore. They sit face to face and clasp hands over a coffee table, because Skull won't kiss him, not while sober and not in front of a camera, and Kush tries to smile and nod at the platitudes coming out of Skull's mouth - I'll be back soon and it's just two years and don't cry, brother, and he did tell himself he wouldn't cry, but everything goes blurry and he can't blink fast enough to stop it.
He sits with his face in his hands as Skull leaves and thinks of all the stupid fights they had, all the time they could've spent together while Skull was promoting in America. I don't really want to do reggae anymore, Kush told him a few months ago, and he could still vividly remember the rage twisting Skull's face, the sound of breaking glass and the metallic taste of blood in his mouth. He'd take reggae over being torn in two.
He's still in the same spot, eyes raw from wiping them on his sleeve, when Teddy finds him. "Is he gone?" he asks, slinging an arm over his shoulders as he sits down, and Kush just closes his eyes against the tears this time, because blinking hurts.
"Yeah. He's-- He just left." He wants to say more: that he doesn't think things will ever be the same, that he loves Skull more than he's ever loved anyone (and that still scares the hell out of him), that he's worried both their careers will go down the drain now, but his throat is so tight he can't manage another word.
Teddy sighs and tightens his grip on Kush's shoulder. "You're too young for this shit."
"I'm gonna go for a beer," he mumbles, finally standing up in a desperate attempt to escape the conversation. Teddy always notices too much.
"No, hey." He grabs Kush by the arm, his fingers pressing against a faint bruise Skull left there two days ago, and the dull pain stops him, clears his mind a little. "There's this track I need lyrics for. You wanna help?"
Teddy's grip stays firm as Kush considers the offer. He won't take no for an answer, so Kush nods and lets himself be led away, only half-listening to Teddy's explanation.
Pairing: Skull/Kush
Rating: R
A/N: Inspired by actual footage shot right before Skull left for the army. (The relevant part starts at 2:50.) Also relevant is the fact that Skull had to be treated for cirrhosis before starting his military service.
Skull drops by the studios to say goodbye, and Kush's stomach drops when he sees him with his dreadlocks shorn off and his eyes full of resignation, ready to serve a nation he doesn't even believe in anymore. They sit face to face and clasp hands over a coffee table, because Skull won't kiss him, not while sober and not in front of a camera, and Kush tries to smile and nod at the platitudes coming out of Skull's mouth - I'll be back soon and it's just two years and don't cry, brother, and he did tell himself he wouldn't cry, but everything goes blurry and he can't blink fast enough to stop it.
He sits with his face in his hands as Skull leaves and thinks of all the stupid fights they had, all the time they could've spent together while Skull was promoting in America. I don't really want to do reggae anymore, Kush told him a few months ago, and he could still vividly remember the rage twisting Skull's face, the sound of breaking glass and the metallic taste of blood in his mouth. He'd take reggae over being torn in two.
He's still in the same spot, eyes raw from wiping them on his sleeve, when Teddy finds him. "Is he gone?" he asks, slinging an arm over his shoulders as he sits down, and Kush just closes his eyes against the tears this time, because blinking hurts.
"Yeah. He's-- He just left." He wants to say more: that he doesn't think things will ever be the same, that he loves Skull more than he's ever loved anyone (and that still scares the hell out of him), that he's worried both their careers will go down the drain now, but his throat is so tight he can't manage another word.
Teddy sighs and tightens his grip on Kush's shoulder. "You're too young for this shit."
"I'm gonna go for a beer," he mumbles, finally standing up in a desperate attempt to escape the conversation. Teddy always notices too much.
"No, hey." He grabs Kush by the arm, his fingers pressing against a faint bruise Skull left there two days ago, and the dull pain stops him, clears his mind a little. "There's this track I need lyrics for. You wanna help?"
Teddy's grip stays firm as Kush considers the offer. He won't take no for an answer, so Kush nods and lets himself be led away, only half-listening to Teddy's explanation.