Fic: Still Waters
Title: Still Waters
Author: louie x
Series: Life/Southland
Pairing: Detective Charlie Crews/Officer Ben Sherman
Word Count: 956
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Ben has a bad day. Charlie has a bath.
Disclaimer: I own neither series, tragically, and am just playing for a teeny little while with them.
A/N: For nightanddaze's prompt in the 10 prompt meme of 'Charlie/Ben, duuuuh. Do something with water water' :D I hope you like it!
Charlie can't help but think that sort of misconception is what makes it harder for people to take him seriously.'>
People describe Zen as being 'like water', following the path of least resistance in situations of all sorts.
Charlie can't help but think that sort of misconception is what makes it harder for people to take him seriously. They see him and think 'water', smooth and placid like some untouched lake. Rather, were he to think of himself as anything liquid based -aside from the general percentages of every human body- Charlie would have to think he was a river with rocky rapids and whirlpools that could devour a person's body without much effort. The river that is an idealization of his sense of self has smooth spots, little coasting layers where one doesn't need a paddle and can merely float until another point of consumption arises.
He dug a grave for a man to get him to confess. That was a rougher rapid than he expected, nearly taking the detective down into the water with him.
Ben climbs into the bath with him one night, letting out some of the hot water when it threatens to spill over, and settles back against Charlie's chest comfortably. There was no invitation, no real plans to see one another that night, but Charlie's arms wind around Ben regardless.
He doesn't even ask why Ben's off-duty when he should be on a long night shift.
"I had to shoot a man today," Ben whispers. Charlie's not sure whom he's talking to, his tone is distant and may not really be for his ears. The younger man is curled up slightly onto his side, cushioned against Charlie's chest with his head under his chin and one hand against the detective's ribs. His fingers stroke idly beneath the line of the water. Charlie returns the gesture with a wet hand sliding through Ben's hair, brushing the damp locks flat and back against his scalp.
"He was robbing someone. Coop and I were nearby, we just happened upon them, and the man just wouldn't put down his gun." Ben's voice echoes off the Spartan bathroom walls and Charlie doesn't interrupt until the story finishes. A whacked-out on drugs perp was shot before he could open fire on two officers of the LAPD, he bides his time handcuffed to a bed in the ICU at the closest hospital to the scene. There he'll wait to live, to survive, then go to jail for various forms of assault with a deadly weapon.
Charlie lets out a calm breath and sits Ben up so they can face one another in the large bath. The awkwardness of two men nude in a bath isn't an issue as the redhead reaches for washcloth and bath soap. With ease he starts to wash Ben's neck and shoulders, then his arms and hands. He traces the lines of muscle and unique grooves to Ben's palms with the sudsy cloth.
"Sometimes, the best option is the worst one," Charlie replies. He washes pectorals and abdominals; bending his knees to place his feet flat on the bottom of the bath in order to draw Ben close enough to wash at his back. Within the safe ring of his arms, Charlie holds Ben until he feels a shaky release of breath against his throat.
The sigh is a release of tension that Charlie helps with a hand stroking down Ben's side. There's no need to murmur sweet anythings in Ben's ear, he doesn't need to be fluffed in such a manner. Charlie knows that Ben's first day was the hardest sort for any rookie, yet every time he fires his gun it still shocks the young man to the core. It's an admirable quality, Charlie muses as he rests his cheek against Ben's wet hair, to still be so emotionally tied to every person that crosses such a busy path. Cooper copes by being a hard-ass, like many of his peers, Reese copes with a sense of detachment and sarcasm, while Charlie copes by being Charlie. He tries to evade the pools of stronger currents of his spirit by centering and focusing on the moments, releasing them as they pass rather than focusing with such a determination that he obsesses.
He has one obsession already, Ben not included, and that's more than enough for Charlie.
Ben is like the knights of old, all honor and justice without a proper sense of self-worth and validation to create distance. Riding a black and white steed, Officer Sherman wants to save and tend to every life that passes him by. Charlie finds himself intrigued by the thought, and is oddly grateful for Officer Cooper holding Ben by the scruff of his neck so he can keep his focus.
Rookies.
Charlie washes Ben clean and stands them both up, reaching for a towel to dry them off. He toes the drain open, listening as it rumbles and swirls the water down. The young man looks withdrawn and embarrassed to have crumbled against Charlie despite everything that they are. Entangled so taut, Charlie feels his heart ache in a way that makes him glad twelve years in jail didn't steal away.
He kisses the water away from Ben's face and lips, sucking lightly at the lower pale pink bow. Not to arouse, but to draw focus to the now as opposed to the then. Charlie takes Ben to bed as the bath slurps down the last of the water in a hypnotic twisting swirl. The pale sheets are smooth and cool, placid in their hold over the two naked bodies as Ben buries himself against Charlie.
They sleep in a calm stretch Charlie's river. The bed their boat, their arms drawn up oars, as they drift away from past terrible eddies into unknown future rocks and shallows.
Author: louie x
Series: Life/Southland
Pairing: Detective Charlie Crews/Officer Ben Sherman
Word Count: 956
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Ben has a bad day. Charlie has a bath.
Disclaimer: I own neither series, tragically, and am just playing for a teeny little while with them.
A/N: For nightanddaze's prompt in the 10 prompt meme of 'Charlie/Ben, duuuuh. Do something with water water' :D I hope you like it!
Charlie can't help but think that sort of misconception is what makes it harder for people to take him seriously.'>
People describe Zen as being 'like water', following the path of least resistance in situations of all sorts.
Charlie can't help but think that sort of misconception is what makes it harder for people to take him seriously. They see him and think 'water', smooth and placid like some untouched lake. Rather, were he to think of himself as anything liquid based -aside from the general percentages of every human body- Charlie would have to think he was a river with rocky rapids and whirlpools that could devour a person's body without much effort. The river that is an idealization of his sense of self has smooth spots, little coasting layers where one doesn't need a paddle and can merely float until another point of consumption arises.
He dug a grave for a man to get him to confess. That was a rougher rapid than he expected, nearly taking the detective down into the water with him.
Ben climbs into the bath with him one night, letting out some of the hot water when it threatens to spill over, and settles back against Charlie's chest comfortably. There was no invitation, no real plans to see one another that night, but Charlie's arms wind around Ben regardless.
He doesn't even ask why Ben's off-duty when he should be on a long night shift.
"I had to shoot a man today," Ben whispers. Charlie's not sure whom he's talking to, his tone is distant and may not really be for his ears. The younger man is curled up slightly onto his side, cushioned against Charlie's chest with his head under his chin and one hand against the detective's ribs. His fingers stroke idly beneath the line of the water. Charlie returns the gesture with a wet hand sliding through Ben's hair, brushing the damp locks flat and back against his scalp.
"He was robbing someone. Coop and I were nearby, we just happened upon them, and the man just wouldn't put down his gun." Ben's voice echoes off the Spartan bathroom walls and Charlie doesn't interrupt until the story finishes. A whacked-out on drugs perp was shot before he could open fire on two officers of the LAPD, he bides his time handcuffed to a bed in the ICU at the closest hospital to the scene. There he'll wait to live, to survive, then go to jail for various forms of assault with a deadly weapon.
Charlie lets out a calm breath and sits Ben up so they can face one another in the large bath. The awkwardness of two men nude in a bath isn't an issue as the redhead reaches for washcloth and bath soap. With ease he starts to wash Ben's neck and shoulders, then his arms and hands. He traces the lines of muscle and unique grooves to Ben's palms with the sudsy cloth.
"Sometimes, the best option is the worst one," Charlie replies. He washes pectorals and abdominals; bending his knees to place his feet flat on the bottom of the bath in order to draw Ben close enough to wash at his back. Within the safe ring of his arms, Charlie holds Ben until he feels a shaky release of breath against his throat.
The sigh is a release of tension that Charlie helps with a hand stroking down Ben's side. There's no need to murmur sweet anythings in Ben's ear, he doesn't need to be fluffed in such a manner. Charlie knows that Ben's first day was the hardest sort for any rookie, yet every time he fires his gun it still shocks the young man to the core. It's an admirable quality, Charlie muses as he rests his cheek against Ben's wet hair, to still be so emotionally tied to every person that crosses such a busy path. Cooper copes by being a hard-ass, like many of his peers, Reese copes with a sense of detachment and sarcasm, while Charlie copes by being Charlie. He tries to evade the pools of stronger currents of his spirit by centering and focusing on the moments, releasing them as they pass rather than focusing with such a determination that he obsesses.
He has one obsession already, Ben not included, and that's more than enough for Charlie.
Ben is like the knights of old, all honor and justice without a proper sense of self-worth and validation to create distance. Riding a black and white steed, Officer Sherman wants to save and tend to every life that passes him by. Charlie finds himself intrigued by the thought, and is oddly grateful for Officer Cooper holding Ben by the scruff of his neck so he can keep his focus.
Rookies.
Charlie washes Ben clean and stands them both up, reaching for a towel to dry them off. He toes the drain open, listening as it rumbles and swirls the water down. The young man looks withdrawn and embarrassed to have crumbled against Charlie despite everything that they are. Entangled so taut, Charlie feels his heart ache in a way that makes him glad twelve years in jail didn't steal away.
He kisses the water away from Ben's face and lips, sucking lightly at the lower pale pink bow. Not to arouse, but to draw focus to the now as opposed to the then. Charlie takes Ben to bed as the bath slurps down the last of the water in a hypnotic twisting swirl. The pale sheets are smooth and cool, placid in their hold over the two naked bodies as Ben buries himself against Charlie.
They sleep in a calm stretch Charlie's river. The bed their boat, their arms drawn up oars, as they drift away from past terrible eddies into unknown future rocks and shallows.