Mourning 1/1 (Bon Jovi, Def Leppard)
Title: Mourning
Genre: Slash
Bands: Bon Jovi, Def Leppard
Main Characters: David Bryan, Phil Collen
Adult Content: Yes
Words: 899
Chapter: 1/1
Summary: There's a very fine line between comforting and enabling
Teaser: He wasn't real. Maybe David wasn't either. Nothing was real, not even the stone now that he couldn't feel the cool solidity of it holding him up.
Snow in cemeteries was always pristine, always blindingly white. Maybe it wasn't okay to coat the dead in gray and blah the way it was okay to coat the rest of the world.
David sighed and leaned back against the cold stone, ignoring the bite of the perfect snow through his jeans. It was getting late, later than usual, the sky starting to redden on the horizon. The cold was starting to worm its way in through his jacket, spreading through him from the stone and the snow and the wind.
"Well, Steve," he said quietly, his voice hoarse, "I think I should get going. Tico's gonna - "
"David?"
David jumped, banging his head against the stone. The speaker came around to stand in front of him.
"Phil, hi."
"Aren't you cold?"
"Little bit."
Phil held out his hand; David took it and pulled himself up. The snow was less clean now, marred by footprints and a big imprint from where David had been sitting. That wouldn't last long.
As if on cue, a snowflake drifted down in front of them, followed by a few scattered brothers.
"Been here long?" Phil asked, as David pulled his coat a little tighter.
"Long enough."
Away from the stone, it was colder - the wind whipped at his back, biting through his coat. The snowfall thickened, flakes coating his hair and melting on his skin and clothes. Phil looked even smaller than usual, wrapped up in his jacket and hunched over to ward off the cold. The snow swirling around him blended with the snow in his hair, giving him a surreal quality emphasized by the gravestones around them.
He wasn't real. Maybe David wasn't either. Nothing was real, not even the stone now that he couldn't feel the cool solidity of it holding him up.
The air thickened, got colder, sliced into his lungs like a knife. It was real and he was real and so was Phil and that stone in front of him was real and he had to get away.
"I - I should get going. Nice seeing you."
"Want to come with me? You're freezing - we'll have some tea, warm you up."
"Oh, no, I - you - I don't wanna pull you away from - "
Phil smiled weakly up at him. "Nah, I was just - this is on my way home, I was just stopping in. It's fine."
David nodded, and they left with a quick goodbye to Steve, Phil wrapping his arm around David's waist as they walked out. His body was solid and warm - real.
----------
David gasped and arched his back, digging his fingers into Phil's shoulders.
"Phil, please," he begged, rocking his hips against the hardness inside him.
Phil's face was buried in David's neck, lips and teeth and tongue sliding along heated flesh. His breath came in short pants, punctuated by thrusts of his hips. He lifted his head enough to hover his lips over David's.
He couldn't be sure he was breathing. He knew every thrust of Phil's hips sent a spark of pleasure through him that knocked his breath out of his lungs that forced its way through his throat to emerge as a moan or plea or gasp, but he didn't know if he was breathing in or if Phil was breathing or anything but the periodic spark and gasp.
Phil's body slid against his, Phil's tongue exploring the inside of his mouth, and then Phil's orgasm raced through him and pushed him into his own and they shuddered against each other, David's fingers digging so firmly into pale shoulders blood sprang from the half-moon marks.
David sighed as Phil pulled out slowly; the emptiness spread and he was alive and breathing again. Phil rolled over onto his back, wincing a little when his shoulders hit the pillow.
"Can I use your shower?"
Phil nodded, waving his hand towards a door across the room.
----------
"Did you and Steve ever...?"
David shook his head, pouring sugar into his tea. Normally Phil made jokes - like a little tea with your sugar? - and normally David laughed.
"We - nah. Mostly just talked. And not even - usually he was with you, or," David hesitated, flipping through his mind for the appropriately sensitive term, "doing stuff. So - when we did grab each other, it was - we just talked. About...whatever. It - he got it, you know, what it was like to - everyone else talked about what a bore the parties and the crowds were, but you all went and had fun and really looked like you enjoyed it. He knew what it was like to hate it, so we'd go off and...talk."
"He really looked forward to seeing you, I know. He - there wasn't really a lot he got excited about, near - near the end. So - yeah."
----------
David leaned over and gave Phil a quick kiss on the cheek, then opened the door and got out of the car.
"You wanna come up? Tico'd love to see you."
Phil shook his head. "I - nah. Gonna make it an early night, I think."
"Okay. Night. Thanks for the tea."
Phil nodded, and David shut the door. The car vanished quickly in the thick snowfall, the wind tugging David's curls and nudging him inside.
Genre: Slash
Bands: Bon Jovi, Def Leppard
Main Characters: David Bryan, Phil Collen
Adult Content: Yes
Words: 899
Chapter: 1/1
Summary: There's a very fine line between comforting and enabling
Teaser: He wasn't real. Maybe David wasn't either. Nothing was real, not even the stone now that he couldn't feel the cool solidity of it holding him up.
Snow in cemeteries was always pristine, always blindingly white. Maybe it wasn't okay to coat the dead in gray and blah the way it was okay to coat the rest of the world.
David sighed and leaned back against the cold stone, ignoring the bite of the perfect snow through his jeans. It was getting late, later than usual, the sky starting to redden on the horizon. The cold was starting to worm its way in through his jacket, spreading through him from the stone and the snow and the wind.
"Well, Steve," he said quietly, his voice hoarse, "I think I should get going. Tico's gonna - "
"David?"
David jumped, banging his head against the stone. The speaker came around to stand in front of him.
"Phil, hi."
"Aren't you cold?"
"Little bit."
Phil held out his hand; David took it and pulled himself up. The snow was less clean now, marred by footprints and a big imprint from where David had been sitting. That wouldn't last long.
As if on cue, a snowflake drifted down in front of them, followed by a few scattered brothers.
"Been here long?" Phil asked, as David pulled his coat a little tighter.
"Long enough."
Away from the stone, it was colder - the wind whipped at his back, biting through his coat. The snowfall thickened, flakes coating his hair and melting on his skin and clothes. Phil looked even smaller than usual, wrapped up in his jacket and hunched over to ward off the cold. The snow swirling around him blended with the snow in his hair, giving him a surreal quality emphasized by the gravestones around them.
He wasn't real. Maybe David wasn't either. Nothing was real, not even the stone now that he couldn't feel the cool solidity of it holding him up.
The air thickened, got colder, sliced into his lungs like a knife. It was real and he was real and so was Phil and that stone in front of him was real and he had to get away.
"I - I should get going. Nice seeing you."
"Want to come with me? You're freezing - we'll have some tea, warm you up."
"Oh, no, I - you - I don't wanna pull you away from - "
Phil smiled weakly up at him. "Nah, I was just - this is on my way home, I was just stopping in. It's fine."
David nodded, and they left with a quick goodbye to Steve, Phil wrapping his arm around David's waist as they walked out. His body was solid and warm - real.
----------
David gasped and arched his back, digging his fingers into Phil's shoulders.
"Phil, please," he begged, rocking his hips against the hardness inside him.
Phil's face was buried in David's neck, lips and teeth and tongue sliding along heated flesh. His breath came in short pants, punctuated by thrusts of his hips. He lifted his head enough to hover his lips over David's.
He couldn't be sure he was breathing. He knew every thrust of Phil's hips sent a spark of pleasure through him that knocked his breath out of his lungs that forced its way through his throat to emerge as a moan or plea or gasp, but he didn't know if he was breathing in or if Phil was breathing or anything but the periodic spark and gasp.
Phil's body slid against his, Phil's tongue exploring the inside of his mouth, and then Phil's orgasm raced through him and pushed him into his own and they shuddered against each other, David's fingers digging so firmly into pale shoulders blood sprang from the half-moon marks.
David sighed as Phil pulled out slowly; the emptiness spread and he was alive and breathing again. Phil rolled over onto his back, wincing a little when his shoulders hit the pillow.
"Can I use your shower?"
Phil nodded, waving his hand towards a door across the room.
----------
"Did you and Steve ever...?"
David shook his head, pouring sugar into his tea. Normally Phil made jokes - like a little tea with your sugar? - and normally David laughed.
"We - nah. Mostly just talked. And not even - usually he was with you, or," David hesitated, flipping through his mind for the appropriately sensitive term, "doing stuff. So - when we did grab each other, it was - we just talked. About...whatever. It - he got it, you know, what it was like to - everyone else talked about what a bore the parties and the crowds were, but you all went and had fun and really looked like you enjoyed it. He knew what it was like to hate it, so we'd go off and...talk."
"He really looked forward to seeing you, I know. He - there wasn't really a lot he got excited about, near - near the end. So - yeah."
----------
David leaned over and gave Phil a quick kiss on the cheek, then opened the door and got out of the car.
"You wanna come up? Tico'd love to see you."
Phil shook his head. "I - nah. Gonna make it an early night, I think."
"Okay. Night. Thanks for the tea."
Phil nodded, and David shut the door. The car vanished quickly in the thick snowfall, the wind tugging David's curls and nudging him inside.