Fic: Sea Change (Highlander x GlamRPF, Gen, PG)
Title: Sea Change
Author/Artist/Vidder: Lferion
Fandoms: Glam RPF, Highlander, Dust in the Wind - Kansas
Pairing: Adam/Methos
Rating: PG
Length: 1350
Summary: Music speaks to young and old alike.
Warnings: None
Notes: Written for the second round of blackdress_adam
My thanks to auberus for encouragement and hand-holding, and to scribblinlenore for patience well above and beyond. Again.
Sea Change
The Golden Princess, Spring 2001
After the second group number, Adam noticed the man in the corner. Unlike most of the flitting, chattering, prettily dressed but only half-attending audience at the nightly concert/show, he was actually listening to the music. Also unlike most of the passengers, he was alone, the sense of isolation, of otherness, oddly apparent to Adam, though no one else seemed to notice. Perhaps it was only that Adam still felt 'other' all too often himself.
Obeying an impulse, a nudge from the universe, Adam sang 'Dust in the Wind' as his solo-piece (it was on the allowed-alternate list, and both Henri and Patti-Ann knew perfectly well how to play it, but for some reason they didn't seem like like it when Adam sang it). He poured his own loneliness into the song, gave voice to the imponderable weight of sorrow that bore down on the man in the corner, spun the frivolous, ephemeral lightness of the inattentive and carefree into notes that rang with the paradox that was the heart of the song. He was song and singer, in the moment and ever outside it. The steady, pedestrian accompaniment gave him leave to follow the impetus of the music, the through-line of the lyrics.
The last note died away, and there was a moment of charged and breathless silence before the applause began, the beat of it bringing Adam back out of the music, anchoring him again in himself, the connection with the audience palpable. He blinked the dazzle of light out of his eyes, felt dampness on cheeks. Even Patti-Ann was applauding, and Henri's eyes were suspiciously bright. The man in the corner was invisible behind the people rising to their feet.
Later, both wired and exhausted, Adam gave up on trying to sleep. He threw on some clothes and made his way through night-dim corridors, avoiding the still busy Lido and Promenade decks. At this hour the Sun deck would be all but deserted, and he could remember that this was a ship and not just a floating hotel. Maybe even figure just what it was he'd done/tapped into, so he could do it again. He'd had wonderful performances before, but this one had been terrifying and exhilarating and amazing on a whole new level. The only thing he could compare to what he had felt was what he imagined real sex to be like - sex with other people, and not just his own hand and imagination, fun as that was. Only this had been an emotional orgasm. His skin still faltered between feeling raw - stripped and new and painfully tender - and amazingly invincible. He could feel his heart thumping away, and his cock couldn't seem to decide what it was doing - achingly hard one moment and almost limp the next. And at the same time he was completely wiped out. The elevator chimed and the doors opened on the sun deck lobby. The ballrooms were quiet and empty, only the faint hum of a vacuum in the distance reminding him that Housekeeping worked all hours. He pushed through the last set of doors to the outside. Sea air patted his face, welcoming him. There was enough light that he could follow the curve of the glass wall guarding the edge of the space open to the pool below to get all the way aft where the decking widened and fully emerged from under the level above.
Coming finally up against the aft railing, for a moment Adam just breathed in the salt air, the space and the steady sense of motion, stately and inexorable. Far below the water tumbled and murmured, the wake of the floating town veeing away to be lost in the ocean's vastness. The stars burned fierce and high overhead beyond the lace of balconies and out to meet and melt into the invisible horizon.
Quiet words emerged from the dark, "Stars too are dust in the cosmic wind, yet they will outlast us all"
The words were so apt and the clear voice so in tune with his own thoughts that Adam was hardly startled, his attention drawn to the tall shadow at the very corner of the rail. Only a few steps away. Adam took them. The angular shoulders and blade of a nose belonged to the man at the concert. Somehow, Adam was not surprised. Very softly the man spoke again, both starlight and deck-light glimmering on the sharp planes of his face, fathomless eyes, "Thank you."
The man had been weeping, (was weeping still,) tear-tracks mute witness to the grief that colored his tone and roughened his words. They were nearly of a height, but he did not flinch away from Adam's direct gaze. The unashamed honesty of feeling touched Adam deeply, winding its way through and into the tangle of his own feelings, sparking in several directions. For a fraction of a moment, Adam wondered if he should step back, leave the man to his grief in private, but even as the idea skittered through his mind he found himself opening his arms, stepping forward, matching honesty of grief with honesty of comfort. When wiry arms wrapped around Adam in turn, welcoming, grateful, offering comfort in return, Adam knew that this was exactly right. Right place, right time. It didn't matter that he was hardly more than a kid, and this guy was who knew how old. It didn't matter that Adam's own eyes were getting wet, or that they were both guys and guys weren't supposed to get all emotional. (Actually, Adam's body was quite happy to be holding and held close by male strength, the last of the performance jitters finally smoothing out, pulse and skin and even groin slowly settling down to a happy equilibrium, pieces of himself somehow fitting themselves together better than before.) It didn't even matter that they were virtual strangers to each other. This was two people, in the moment, holding each other up. Shared humanity.
Adam took a breath. A faint sweet-spice-sharp scent tickled his nose. "You're welcome," he said. Amazingly, he still wasn't embarrassed, and his voice was steady if a little gruff. He felt his face breaking into a smile, "And thank you." He felt the other man smile against his shoulder. After a measureless moment they stepped apart, still faintly smiling. Adam swallowed and found himself asking, "You gonna be ok?" (OK, now he was feeling embarrassed.) The back of his neck prickled hot. He made himself not look away, even though it was still dark enough to be hard to really read the other man's face.
But it seemed the moment still held. Deep eyes met and held Adam's, and the man said, very simply, "Yes. I will be." The corners of his eyes crinkled, but there was no mockery in the man's mobile, angular face as he went on, "And so will you be." A tiny nod punctuated the sentence. "Well done."
At that Adam did look away, a little abashed at the praise, but also oddly peaceful. He was pretty sure it would be temporary, but that was alright. The man settled himself against the rail, subtly more relaxed and turned his attention to the glittering sweep of stars. Adam took a deep breath an did the same. They watched in comfortable silence until the distant rattle of service carts heralded the approach of dawn.
And when the man (Adam never did catch his name, despite more than one late-night moment standing at the taffrail of the sun deck watching the stars or the moon on the water and simply being - not together, but not alone either - breathing in the warm, salt air side-by-side, but that didn't matter) left the ship at the end of his cruise package Adam was happy to see that he stood a little straighter, the weight of the pain/grief/wearyness that bowed his shoulders lighter, the sense of distance between him and all others lessened, though the odd impression of age remained unchanged.
What Adam didn't realize was that he, too, was standing taller and smiling more.
____________
Notes
Yes that is Methos. He didn't tell me what name he was going by, but this is fairly immediately after the events of Highlander: Endgame in his timeline, and, well, a lot of good people died in that film, Connor not the least.
YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-xxA81F278Y
Downloadable mp3 of Adam singing Dust in the Wind - http://www.megaupload.com/?d=ELQIMF3C
I could not recall what cruise line Adam worked on - or even if he has ever said in an interview. Wikipedia give the production company, but not the ship, so I picked Princess because they are well known and have a usefully detailed website. The deck-plans of the Golden Princess are here: http://www.princess.com/learn/ships/np/deck_plans/index.html
This started out to be the first of a Five Things story, but it decided it wanted to be a whole piece. I do hope to write the other parts. "Sunrise" is part of this set.
Story on AO3
This entry was originally posted at http://lferion.dreamwidth.org/193754.html, where there are currently
comments. Please comment there using OpenID.
Author/Artist/Vidder: Lferion
Fandoms: Glam RPF, Highlander, Dust in the Wind - Kansas
Pairing: Adam/Methos
Rating: PG
Length: 1350
Summary: Music speaks to young and old alike.
Warnings: None
Notes: Written for the second round of blackdress_adam
My thanks to auberus for encouragement and hand-holding, and to scribblinlenore for patience well above and beyond. Again.
Sea Change
The Golden Princess, Spring 2001
After the second group number, Adam noticed the man in the corner. Unlike most of the flitting, chattering, prettily dressed but only half-attending audience at the nightly concert/show, he was actually listening to the music. Also unlike most of the passengers, he was alone, the sense of isolation, of otherness, oddly apparent to Adam, though no one else seemed to notice. Perhaps it was only that Adam still felt 'other' all too often himself.
Obeying an impulse, a nudge from the universe, Adam sang 'Dust in the Wind' as his solo-piece (it was on the allowed-alternate list, and both Henri and Patti-Ann knew perfectly well how to play it, but for some reason they didn't seem like like it when Adam sang it). He poured his own loneliness into the song, gave voice to the imponderable weight of sorrow that bore down on the man in the corner, spun the frivolous, ephemeral lightness of the inattentive and carefree into notes that rang with the paradox that was the heart of the song. He was song and singer, in the moment and ever outside it. The steady, pedestrian accompaniment gave him leave to follow the impetus of the music, the through-line of the lyrics.
The last note died away, and there was a moment of charged and breathless silence before the applause began, the beat of it bringing Adam back out of the music, anchoring him again in himself, the connection with the audience palpable. He blinked the dazzle of light out of his eyes, felt dampness on cheeks. Even Patti-Ann was applauding, and Henri's eyes were suspiciously bright. The man in the corner was invisible behind the people rising to their feet.
Later, both wired and exhausted, Adam gave up on trying to sleep. He threw on some clothes and made his way through night-dim corridors, avoiding the still busy Lido and Promenade decks. At this hour the Sun deck would be all but deserted, and he could remember that this was a ship and not just a floating hotel. Maybe even figure just what it was he'd done/tapped into, so he could do it again. He'd had wonderful performances before, but this one had been terrifying and exhilarating and amazing on a whole new level. The only thing he could compare to what he had felt was what he imagined real sex to be like - sex with other people, and not just his own hand and imagination, fun as that was. Only this had been an emotional orgasm. His skin still faltered between feeling raw - stripped and new and painfully tender - and amazingly invincible. He could feel his heart thumping away, and his cock couldn't seem to decide what it was doing - achingly hard one moment and almost limp the next. And at the same time he was completely wiped out. The elevator chimed and the doors opened on the sun deck lobby. The ballrooms were quiet and empty, only the faint hum of a vacuum in the distance reminding him that Housekeeping worked all hours. He pushed through the last set of doors to the outside. Sea air patted his face, welcoming him. There was enough light that he could follow the curve of the glass wall guarding the edge of the space open to the pool below to get all the way aft where the decking widened and fully emerged from under the level above.
Coming finally up against the aft railing, for a moment Adam just breathed in the salt air, the space and the steady sense of motion, stately and inexorable. Far below the water tumbled and murmured, the wake of the floating town veeing away to be lost in the ocean's vastness. The stars burned fierce and high overhead beyond the lace of balconies and out to meet and melt into the invisible horizon.
Quiet words emerged from the dark, "Stars too are dust in the cosmic wind, yet they will outlast us all"
The words were so apt and the clear voice so in tune with his own thoughts that Adam was hardly startled, his attention drawn to the tall shadow at the very corner of the rail. Only a few steps away. Adam took them. The angular shoulders and blade of a nose belonged to the man at the concert. Somehow, Adam was not surprised. Very softly the man spoke again, both starlight and deck-light glimmering on the sharp planes of his face, fathomless eyes, "Thank you."
The man had been weeping, (was weeping still,) tear-tracks mute witness to the grief that colored his tone and roughened his words. They were nearly of a height, but he did not flinch away from Adam's direct gaze. The unashamed honesty of feeling touched Adam deeply, winding its way through and into the tangle of his own feelings, sparking in several directions. For a fraction of a moment, Adam wondered if he should step back, leave the man to his grief in private, but even as the idea skittered through his mind he found himself opening his arms, stepping forward, matching honesty of grief with honesty of comfort. When wiry arms wrapped around Adam in turn, welcoming, grateful, offering comfort in return, Adam knew that this was exactly right. Right place, right time. It didn't matter that he was hardly more than a kid, and this guy was who knew how old. It didn't matter that Adam's own eyes were getting wet, or that they were both guys and guys weren't supposed to get all emotional. (Actually, Adam's body was quite happy to be holding and held close by male strength, the last of the performance jitters finally smoothing out, pulse and skin and even groin slowly settling down to a happy equilibrium, pieces of himself somehow fitting themselves together better than before.) It didn't even matter that they were virtual strangers to each other. This was two people, in the moment, holding each other up. Shared humanity.
Adam took a breath. A faint sweet-spice-sharp scent tickled his nose. "You're welcome," he said. Amazingly, he still wasn't embarrassed, and his voice was steady if a little gruff. He felt his face breaking into a smile, "And thank you." He felt the other man smile against his shoulder. After a measureless moment they stepped apart, still faintly smiling. Adam swallowed and found himself asking, "You gonna be ok?" (OK, now he was feeling embarrassed.) The back of his neck prickled hot. He made himself not look away, even though it was still dark enough to be hard to really read the other man's face.
But it seemed the moment still held. Deep eyes met and held Adam's, and the man said, very simply, "Yes. I will be." The corners of his eyes crinkled, but there was no mockery in the man's mobile, angular face as he went on, "And so will you be." A tiny nod punctuated the sentence. "Well done."
At that Adam did look away, a little abashed at the praise, but also oddly peaceful. He was pretty sure it would be temporary, but that was alright. The man settled himself against the rail, subtly more relaxed and turned his attention to the glittering sweep of stars. Adam took a deep breath an did the same. They watched in comfortable silence until the distant rattle of service carts heralded the approach of dawn.
And when the man (Adam never did catch his name, despite more than one late-night moment standing at the taffrail of the sun deck watching the stars or the moon on the water and simply being - not together, but not alone either - breathing in the warm, salt air side-by-side, but that didn't matter) left the ship at the end of his cruise package Adam was happy to see that he stood a little straighter, the weight of the pain/grief/wearyness that bowed his shoulders lighter, the sense of distance between him and all others lessened, though the odd impression of age remained unchanged.
What Adam didn't realize was that he, too, was standing taller and smiling more.
____________
Notes
Yes that is Methos. He didn't tell me what name he was going by, but this is fairly immediately after the events of Highlander: Endgame in his timeline, and, well, a lot of good people died in that film, Connor not the least.
YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-xxA81F278Y
Downloadable mp3 of Adam singing Dust in the Wind - http://www.megaupload.com/?d=ELQIMF3C
I could not recall what cruise line Adam worked on - or even if he has ever said in an interview. Wikipedia give the production company, but not the ship, so I picked Princess because they are well known and have a usefully detailed website. The deck-plans of the Golden Princess are here: http://www.princess.com/learn/ships/np/deck_plans/index.html
This started out to be the first of a Five Things story, but it decided it wanted to be a whole piece. I do hope to write the other parts. "Sunrise" is part of this set.
Story on AO3
This entry was originally posted at http://lferion.dreamwidth.org/193754.html, where there are currently
comments. Please comment there using OpenID.