There Is No Chaste Solace (Mysterious Skin)
Title: There Is No Chaste Solace
Pairing: Neil/Neil's mom, from Mysterious Skin
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Incestous attraction. All the bad qualities of a drabble without the good qualities.
A/N: One would think that, in a movie that shows solely gay sex, one wouldn't concentrate on a nonexistent heterosexual pairing. But of course, isn't that always the way? First line is a rough approximation of what I remember she said in the movie several times. Plagiarism = "springboard."
"You are my baby and remember: I will always love you."
She's still radiant but there is a touch of frenzy in her... forties, crow's feet, grey hair looming around a corner less than a decade long now. She was a stupid child when she had him, only three years older than he is now, and it had forced her to grow old more quickly. But now she's small and frail, Neil thinks. As he grows older, she hardly changes, appears younger to him, in fact. She nestles into his arm, wondering aloud when things will start going right for them, and he feels a little guilty that she doesn't know the half of it. And why should she? He could just stop, after all. But there is something gratifying in throwing himself down the dark abyss every time. Something gratifying in getting phonecalls from strangers who respond to sleazy adverts scrawled on toilet doors. Something gratifying in how ugly the men who pick him up usually are and how roughly they handle him, even when they don't intend to. He just soaks it all up-- their miseries, their vain hopes. It all eats away at him, and he loves the sensation.
And now... now she is spilling her soul to him, and it isn't all that different, he thinks. He begins to harden as if on cue, human sorrow and hopelessness potent aphrodisiacs no matter what their source.
Neil shifts, hoping his mother won't notice, but part of him doesn't care... Part of him begins to question whether he is even as completely queer as he thinks, when she feels so nice and soft against him, seeking solace.
There is no chaste solace for Neil.
He stops worrying, leans back into the couch and lets life happen to him. Never the aggressor, but if his mom had ever asked, he would have given it, he realizes.
Pairing: Neil/Neil's mom, from Mysterious Skin
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Incestous attraction. All the bad qualities of a drabble without the good qualities.
A/N: One would think that, in a movie that shows solely gay sex, one wouldn't concentrate on a nonexistent heterosexual pairing. But of course, isn't that always the way? First line is a rough approximation of what I remember she said in the movie several times. Plagiarism = "springboard."
"You are my baby and remember: I will always love you."
She's still radiant but there is a touch of frenzy in her... forties, crow's feet, grey hair looming around a corner less than a decade long now. She was a stupid child when she had him, only three years older than he is now, and it had forced her to grow old more quickly. But now she's small and frail, Neil thinks. As he grows older, she hardly changes, appears younger to him, in fact. She nestles into his arm, wondering aloud when things will start going right for them, and he feels a little guilty that she doesn't know the half of it. And why should she? He could just stop, after all. But there is something gratifying in throwing himself down the dark abyss every time. Something gratifying in getting phonecalls from strangers who respond to sleazy adverts scrawled on toilet doors. Something gratifying in how ugly the men who pick him up usually are and how roughly they handle him, even when they don't intend to. He just soaks it all up-- their miseries, their vain hopes. It all eats away at him, and he loves the sensation.
And now... now she is spilling her soul to him, and it isn't all that different, he thinks. He begins to harden as if on cue, human sorrow and hopelessness potent aphrodisiacs no matter what their source.
Neil shifts, hoping his mother won't notice, but part of him doesn't care... Part of him begins to question whether he is even as completely queer as he thinks, when she feels so nice and soft against him, seeking solace.
There is no chaste solace for Neil.
He stops worrying, leans back into the couch and lets life happen to him. Never the aggressor, but if his mom had ever asked, he would have given it, he realizes.