Happy (late!) Birthday !!!
Ok, I know, I'm dreadfully late, and it makes me so angry with myself, because I had this prepared and ready for about a week.
Well, here it is at last! I really hope you'll enjoy it.
First of all, I chose to translate in French a few passages of "Ghost in Winter", I don't know if you like French or if you know that language very well, but I thought you might be interested in reading your wonderful work in another language, just to see what it can be like :)
Elijah stood motionless, unable to look away from Sean's face.
"I've heard about you," Sean said. "The street kids call you The Ghost. They say you come and go like a shadow, and nobody knows where you live. Have you got a real name?"
"Elijah." His voice was husky and cracked, unused for so long it was hard to form the word. How long had it been since he'd spoken to anyone? Months? Years?
"I'm Sean." He offered his hand and Elijah, after staring at it for a moment, bewildered, realized he was supposed to shake it. He gripped the hand and felt the warmth and strength in it.
Sean hesitated, then he said gently, "You hungry, Elijah? I don't have any more bread and peanut butter, but I've got a pot of soup at home."
He nodded. The thought of hot food made the hunger in his belly come alive. He followed Sean back to his tenement and up a dark staircase to the second floor.
Elijah se tenait debout, sans bouger, incapable de détourner son regard du visage de Sean.
- J'ai entendu parler de toi, dit Sean. Les gamins de la rue t'appellent Le Fantôme. Ils disent que tu vas et viens comme une ombre, et que personne ne sait où tu vis. Est-ce que tu as un vrai nom ?
- Elijah.
Sa voix était rauque et brisée, le mot inutilisé depuis si longtemps était difficile à formuler. À quand remontait la dernière fois où il avait parlé à quelqu'un? Des mois ? Des années ?
- Moi c'est Sean.
Il tendit la main, et Elijah, après l'avoir regardée un long moment avec étonnement, réalisa qu'il était supposé la serrer. Il l'agrippa et sentit qu'elle était chaude et solide.
Sean hésita, puis demanda gentiment:
- T'as faim Elijah ? Je n'ai plus de pain ni de beurre de cacahouète, mais il y a une casserole de soupe chez moi.
Il acquiesça. L'idée de nourriture chaude réveilla la faim dans son ventre. Il suivit Sean jusqu'à son immeuble et ils montèrent les escaliers sombres pour atteindre le deuxième étage.
***
Elijah thanked him in a rusty whisper and sat down in one of the mismatched chairs. The soup was vegetable, with no meat, but he didn't care. It was thick and hot and it filled his empty belly so that he felt satisfied for the first time in as long as he could remember. He slowed down and savored the last few bites. Finished, he sighed and leaned his elbows on the table, content to remain where he was for a little while.
He flinched, startled, when Sean reached out and lifted the pendant of his necklace, studying it curiously.
"It's beautiful," Sean said, releasing it.
Elijah touched the St Christopher medal lightly. It was heavy and reassuring against his chest, the chain thick and sturdy. He hadn't taken it off since it had been given to him, seven years ago.
"A gift from my mother," he explained.
"Is that real gold?" Sean sat back, regarding him with puzzlement.
"Yes."
"I'm surprised you've been able to hang onto it out there on the street. There are people who'd kill you for that."
"I can take care of myself."
"Yeah, I guess you can. Are you still hungry?"
"I'm full, but thanks," he said. "I'd better go."
"Wish I could put you up for the night, but I can't do it for all the kids, so I can't do it for one."
"It's okay, I understand." He put his jacket back on and headed for the door.
Elijah le remercia d'un murmure éraillé et s'assit sur l'une des chaises dépareillées. C'était une soupe de légumes, sans viande, mais il s'en fichait. Elle était épaisse et chaude, et elle remplit si bien son ventre vide qu'il s'en trouva satisfait comme il ne l'avait pas été depuis bien longtemps. Il ralentit et en savoura les dernières cuillerées. Enfin, il soupira et appuya ses coudes sur la table, heureux de rester là où il était pour un petit moment.
Il tressaillit de surprise quand Sean s'avança et souleva le pendentif qui ornait son cou pour l'observer avec curiosité.
- C'est très beau, dit-il en le relâchant.
Elijah effleura du doigt la médaille de St Christophe. Elle était lourde et rassurante sur sa poitrine, la chaîne épaisse et solide. Il ne l'avait jamais enlevée depuis qu'on lui avait offerte, sept ans plus tôt.
- Un cadeau de ma mère, expliqua-t-il.
- Est-ce que c'est de l'or ?
Sean se rassit au fond de sa chaise, le regardant d'un air interrogateur.
- Oui.
- Je suis surpris que tu ais pu le garder. Dans les rues par ici, il y a des gens qui te tueraient pour ça.
- Je suis capable de prendre soin de moi.
- Ouais, je suppose que tu peux. T'as encore faim ?
- J'suis calé, mais merci, dit-il. Je f'rais mieux d'y aller.
- J'aimerais pouvoir te garder pour la nuit, mais j'peux pas le faire pour tous les gosses, alors j'peux pas le faire pour un seul.
- C'est bon, je comprend.
Il remit sa veste et se dirigea vers la porte.
***
Elijah didn't know he was going to do it until he'd stepped forward and kissed Sean's cheek, feeling the faint roughness of stubble under his lips, smelling the scent of Sean's shaving lotion. He was as startled as Sean, who blinked at him, eyes wide. For a moment, they just gazed at each other, and he realized Sean wasn't insulted, wasn't angry, just surprised. He started to lean in again, but Sean took hold of his arms and held him still. He looked sad, all the light gone from his face.
"You don't have to do anything to pay for your bed," he said. "Just because I'm gay doesn't mean I'm looking to fuck you in exchange for a meal and a night's rest. I don't take advantage of kids."
Elijah pulled himself free. "That's not what I was thinking," he said, his voice cold and hard in response to the rejection. "And I'm not a kid."
"Yeah. You are." Sean indicated the sofa with a nod. "That's yours for the night. Stay or go. It's up to you. I'm going to sleep." And he turned and walked into the bedroom and pushed the door shut.
Elijah considered leaving, but realized that would be childish. Sean hadn't been mean, he'd just said no, as kindly as he could. Elijah lay down on the sofa, wrapped himself in the faded old quilt, and settled down. He reached over and turned off the lamp, leaving the room in darkness, and after a little while, he relaxed enough to fall asleep. He didn't sleep soundly, waking several times in the night, listening to the breathing of the other man behind that closed door. He could smell Sean's body, and it made him restless because it aroused him in a way he hadn't felt in a long time. His cock hardened and he trembled. He wondered what Sean would do if he got up and went into that room, if he leaned over the bed and pressed his face into the hollow of Sean's neck and shoulder, if he kissed and licked the skin, if he . . .
He looked at the bookcase, at the clock on one shelf. Nearly five in the morning, and he wasn't likely to get any more sleep. He rose from the sofa, folded the quilt, and left it lying there, then put on his jacket and cap and gloves, wound the scarf around his neck, and let himself out. He made sure the door locked. Then he went out to walk the snowbound streets until the cold froze his desire and killed it.
Elijah ignorait qu'il allait le faire jusqu'au moment où il s'avança et embrassa Sean sur la joue, sentant sous ses lèvres le léger picotement d'une barbe de quelques jours, l'odeur de la lotion de rasage. Il était aussi étonné que Sean, qui le regarda en écarquillant les yeux. Pendant un instant ils se regardèrent simplement, et il réalisa que Sean ne se sentait pas insulté, n'était pas en colère, mais juste surpris. Il tenta de se pencher à nouveau sur lui mais Sean le retint par les bras et le maintint immobile. Il avait l'air triste, toute la lumière semblait avoir quitté son visage.
- Tu n'as pas à faire quoi que ce soit pour payer ta nuit, dit-il. Ce n'est pas parce que je suis gay que je veux te sauter en échange d'un repas et d'une nuit de repos. Je n'abuse pas de la misère des gosses.
Elijah se dégagea.
- Je n'ai jamais pensé ça, répondit-il d'une voix froide et dure au rejet de Sean. Et je n'suis pas un gosse.
- Ouais, c'est ça. (Sean indiqua le canapé d'un geste du menton) C'est à toi pour ce soir, que tu restes ou pas c'est à toi de voir. J'vais me coucher.
Et il se dirigea vers sa chambre et ferma la porte derrière lui.
Elijah songea à partir, mais comprit que ça aurait été digne d'un gamin. Sean n'avait pas été méchant, il avait juste dit non, aussi gentiment que possible. Elijah s'allongea sur le canapé, s'enroula dans le vieil édredon délavé, et s'installa confortablement. Il étendit le bras et éteignit la lampe, plongea la pièce dans l'obscurité, et au bout d'un petit moment, se détendit assez pour s'endormir. Il ne dormit pas profondément, se réveillant plusieurs fois dans la nuit, écoutant la respiration de l'autre homme derrière la porte fermée. Il pouvait sentir le corps de Sean, et il était agité car cela l'excitait d'une façon telle qu'il n'en avait pas connue depuis longtemps. Son sexe durcit et il frémit. Il se demandait ce que Sean ferait s'il se levait et entrait dans cette chambre, s'il se penchait sur le lit et pressait son visage dans le creux de la gorge de Sean, s'il embrassait et léchait cette peau, s'il...
Il regarda le réveil sur l'un des rayons de l'étagère. Il était presque cinq heure du matin, et il y avait peu de chance qu'il se rendorme. Il se leva, plia l'édredon et le laissa là, puis il mit sa veste, son bonnet et ses gants, enroula l'écharpe autour de son cou et sortit. Il s'assura que la porte était verrouillée derrière lui. Puis il regagna les rues couvertes de neige, marchant jusqu'à ce que le froid glace son désire et le tue.
I hope the translation isn't too bad, it's the longest I ever had to do :)
Then I wrote a short sequel to the same story, in English this time. It's my very very first Sean/Elijah. I really hope it's not too bad.
Warning: R/NC-17, possible bad English, and very unusual position (or so I think :p)
It was hard for Elijah to move: his legs were tangled with Sean's, his chest was trapped in Sean's strong arms, and he could feel the other man's breath in his neck. It was the third night they spent like this, getting a little closer each time. There was no more kisses, Sean had only kissed him that night after he had been wounded. Since then they had seen each other for a week, and Elijah had slept at Sean's only twice.
But every time they had ended up sleeping clutched to each other, the both of them feeling a comfort they had not felt for a very long time.
That night, when Elijah opened his eyes, wondering for the hundredth time how Sean could huddle so close to a beast like him, he felt a stirring in his groin. Sean's right hand was stroking his belly gently. The young man whimpered. Sean opened his eyes and his hand stopped its slow exploration.
'Elijah? You awake?' he whispered.
'Yeah.'
'I'm sorry, I...'
'No, it's okay. That is, if you don't mind.'
Elijah felt himself blushing which was particularly unusual with him. He suddenly wanted to get rid of all the barriers between his skin and Sean's.
'Sean', he sighed.
The older man understood, as clearly as if Elijah had spoken the words of his desire aloud. Softly, he stripped Elijah of his clothes and took his own off, never changing their positions, lying on their sides. Revealing their burning flesh, Sean kissed Elijah's neck and stroked his penis gently, starting to move slowly against him.
The feel of Sean's hard member pressed to his backside made Elijah moan and pant.
'Please', he said. And Sean needed no more words, he knew what the other wanted.
Reaching blindly behind him, Sean opened the night stand drawer and groped for condoms and lube. When he was ready, he stroked Elijah's opening carefully, applying lube around himself and inside his lover.
'You all right?'
'Yeah'
'Tell me if it hurts'
'Please, Sean!'
The man emitted a low groan and, lifting Elijah's right leg up, penetrated slowly. His right arm supported Elijah's leg and his right hand stroked Elijah's ardent flesh.
But the young man wanted more, and with a sudden move of his shoulders and hips, he pushed Sean on his back, finding himself lying on top of him, his head nestled in the crook of Sean's neck, his back pressed to Sean's broad chest. Sean lifted his knees so that his feet were firmly planted on the mattress. Elijah's legs were bent, and Sean held them, helping Elijah to follow the rhythm of his own body. Up and down, again and again, faster and faster, until they both reached climax. Elijah turned his head and kissed Sean passionately as they came together.
'Oh', Elijah said, sighing with pleasure and exhaustion.
'Elijah, I...'
'Love you', they said together, and both smiled.
As Elijah slowly relaxed and fell limply at Sean's side, the older man took his hand and kissed it. He then gathered Elijah in his arms and held him close, and just like the first time, he kissed his lips, softly, softly.
And this time Elijah really thought everything was all right.
I wish you again a very very very happy birthday!
*big tight hugs*
Well, here it is at last! I really hope you'll enjoy it.
First of all, I chose to translate in French a few passages of "Ghost in Winter", I don't know if you like French or if you know that language very well, but I thought you might be interested in reading your wonderful work in another language, just to see what it can be like :)
Elijah stood motionless, unable to look away from Sean's face.
"I've heard about you," Sean said. "The street kids call you The Ghost. They say you come and go like a shadow, and nobody knows where you live. Have you got a real name?"
"Elijah." His voice was husky and cracked, unused for so long it was hard to form the word. How long had it been since he'd spoken to anyone? Months? Years?
"I'm Sean." He offered his hand and Elijah, after staring at it for a moment, bewildered, realized he was supposed to shake it. He gripped the hand and felt the warmth and strength in it.
Sean hesitated, then he said gently, "You hungry, Elijah? I don't have any more bread and peanut butter, but I've got a pot of soup at home."
He nodded. The thought of hot food made the hunger in his belly come alive. He followed Sean back to his tenement and up a dark staircase to the second floor.
Elijah se tenait debout, sans bouger, incapable de détourner son regard du visage de Sean.
- J'ai entendu parler de toi, dit Sean. Les gamins de la rue t'appellent Le Fantôme. Ils disent que tu vas et viens comme une ombre, et que personne ne sait où tu vis. Est-ce que tu as un vrai nom ?
- Elijah.
Sa voix était rauque et brisée, le mot inutilisé depuis si longtemps était difficile à formuler. À quand remontait la dernière fois où il avait parlé à quelqu'un? Des mois ? Des années ?
- Moi c'est Sean.
Il tendit la main, et Elijah, après l'avoir regardée un long moment avec étonnement, réalisa qu'il était supposé la serrer. Il l'agrippa et sentit qu'elle était chaude et solide.
Sean hésita, puis demanda gentiment:
- T'as faim Elijah ? Je n'ai plus de pain ni de beurre de cacahouète, mais il y a une casserole de soupe chez moi.
Il acquiesça. L'idée de nourriture chaude réveilla la faim dans son ventre. Il suivit Sean jusqu'à son immeuble et ils montèrent les escaliers sombres pour atteindre le deuxième étage.
***
Elijah thanked him in a rusty whisper and sat down in one of the mismatched chairs. The soup was vegetable, with no meat, but he didn't care. It was thick and hot and it filled his empty belly so that he felt satisfied for the first time in as long as he could remember. He slowed down and savored the last few bites. Finished, he sighed and leaned his elbows on the table, content to remain where he was for a little while.
He flinched, startled, when Sean reached out and lifted the pendant of his necklace, studying it curiously.
"It's beautiful," Sean said, releasing it.
Elijah touched the St Christopher medal lightly. It was heavy and reassuring against his chest, the chain thick and sturdy. He hadn't taken it off since it had been given to him, seven years ago.
"A gift from my mother," he explained.
"Is that real gold?" Sean sat back, regarding him with puzzlement.
"Yes."
"I'm surprised you've been able to hang onto it out there on the street. There are people who'd kill you for that."
"I can take care of myself."
"Yeah, I guess you can. Are you still hungry?"
"I'm full, but thanks," he said. "I'd better go."
"Wish I could put you up for the night, but I can't do it for all the kids, so I can't do it for one."
"It's okay, I understand." He put his jacket back on and headed for the door.
Elijah le remercia d'un murmure éraillé et s'assit sur l'une des chaises dépareillées. C'était une soupe de légumes, sans viande, mais il s'en fichait. Elle était épaisse et chaude, et elle remplit si bien son ventre vide qu'il s'en trouva satisfait comme il ne l'avait pas été depuis bien longtemps. Il ralentit et en savoura les dernières cuillerées. Enfin, il soupira et appuya ses coudes sur la table, heureux de rester là où il était pour un petit moment.
Il tressaillit de surprise quand Sean s'avança et souleva le pendentif qui ornait son cou pour l'observer avec curiosité.
- C'est très beau, dit-il en le relâchant.
Elijah effleura du doigt la médaille de St Christophe. Elle était lourde et rassurante sur sa poitrine, la chaîne épaisse et solide. Il ne l'avait jamais enlevée depuis qu'on lui avait offerte, sept ans plus tôt.
- Un cadeau de ma mère, expliqua-t-il.
- Est-ce que c'est de l'or ?
Sean se rassit au fond de sa chaise, le regardant d'un air interrogateur.
- Oui.
- Je suis surpris que tu ais pu le garder. Dans les rues par ici, il y a des gens qui te tueraient pour ça.
- Je suis capable de prendre soin de moi.
- Ouais, je suppose que tu peux. T'as encore faim ?
- J'suis calé, mais merci, dit-il. Je f'rais mieux d'y aller.
- J'aimerais pouvoir te garder pour la nuit, mais j'peux pas le faire pour tous les gosses, alors j'peux pas le faire pour un seul.
- C'est bon, je comprend.
Il remit sa veste et se dirigea vers la porte.
***
Elijah didn't know he was going to do it until he'd stepped forward and kissed Sean's cheek, feeling the faint roughness of stubble under his lips, smelling the scent of Sean's shaving lotion. He was as startled as Sean, who blinked at him, eyes wide. For a moment, they just gazed at each other, and he realized Sean wasn't insulted, wasn't angry, just surprised. He started to lean in again, but Sean took hold of his arms and held him still. He looked sad, all the light gone from his face.
"You don't have to do anything to pay for your bed," he said. "Just because I'm gay doesn't mean I'm looking to fuck you in exchange for a meal and a night's rest. I don't take advantage of kids."
Elijah pulled himself free. "That's not what I was thinking," he said, his voice cold and hard in response to the rejection. "And I'm not a kid."
"Yeah. You are." Sean indicated the sofa with a nod. "That's yours for the night. Stay or go. It's up to you. I'm going to sleep." And he turned and walked into the bedroom and pushed the door shut.
Elijah considered leaving, but realized that would be childish. Sean hadn't been mean, he'd just said no, as kindly as he could. Elijah lay down on the sofa, wrapped himself in the faded old quilt, and settled down. He reached over and turned off the lamp, leaving the room in darkness, and after a little while, he relaxed enough to fall asleep. He didn't sleep soundly, waking several times in the night, listening to the breathing of the other man behind that closed door. He could smell Sean's body, and it made him restless because it aroused him in a way he hadn't felt in a long time. His cock hardened and he trembled. He wondered what Sean would do if he got up and went into that room, if he leaned over the bed and pressed his face into the hollow of Sean's neck and shoulder, if he kissed and licked the skin, if he . . .
He looked at the bookcase, at the clock on one shelf. Nearly five in the morning, and he wasn't likely to get any more sleep. He rose from the sofa, folded the quilt, and left it lying there, then put on his jacket and cap and gloves, wound the scarf around his neck, and let himself out. He made sure the door locked. Then he went out to walk the snowbound streets until the cold froze his desire and killed it.
Elijah ignorait qu'il allait le faire jusqu'au moment où il s'avança et embrassa Sean sur la joue, sentant sous ses lèvres le léger picotement d'une barbe de quelques jours, l'odeur de la lotion de rasage. Il était aussi étonné que Sean, qui le regarda en écarquillant les yeux. Pendant un instant ils se regardèrent simplement, et il réalisa que Sean ne se sentait pas insulté, n'était pas en colère, mais juste surpris. Il tenta de se pencher à nouveau sur lui mais Sean le retint par les bras et le maintint immobile. Il avait l'air triste, toute la lumière semblait avoir quitté son visage.
- Tu n'as pas à faire quoi que ce soit pour payer ta nuit, dit-il. Ce n'est pas parce que je suis gay que je veux te sauter en échange d'un repas et d'une nuit de repos. Je n'abuse pas de la misère des gosses.
Elijah se dégagea.
- Je n'ai jamais pensé ça, répondit-il d'une voix froide et dure au rejet de Sean. Et je n'suis pas un gosse.
- Ouais, c'est ça. (Sean indiqua le canapé d'un geste du menton) C'est à toi pour ce soir, que tu restes ou pas c'est à toi de voir. J'vais me coucher.
Et il se dirigea vers sa chambre et ferma la porte derrière lui.
Elijah songea à partir, mais comprit que ça aurait été digne d'un gamin. Sean n'avait pas été méchant, il avait juste dit non, aussi gentiment que possible. Elijah s'allongea sur le canapé, s'enroula dans le vieil édredon délavé, et s'installa confortablement. Il étendit le bras et éteignit la lampe, plongea la pièce dans l'obscurité, et au bout d'un petit moment, se détendit assez pour s'endormir. Il ne dormit pas profondément, se réveillant plusieurs fois dans la nuit, écoutant la respiration de l'autre homme derrière la porte fermée. Il pouvait sentir le corps de Sean, et il était agité car cela l'excitait d'une façon telle qu'il n'en avait pas connue depuis longtemps. Son sexe durcit et il frémit. Il se demandait ce que Sean ferait s'il se levait et entrait dans cette chambre, s'il se penchait sur le lit et pressait son visage dans le creux de la gorge de Sean, s'il embrassait et léchait cette peau, s'il...
Il regarda le réveil sur l'un des rayons de l'étagère. Il était presque cinq heure du matin, et il y avait peu de chance qu'il se rendorme. Il se leva, plia l'édredon et le laissa là, puis il mit sa veste, son bonnet et ses gants, enroula l'écharpe autour de son cou et sortit. Il s'assura que la porte était verrouillée derrière lui. Puis il regagna les rues couvertes de neige, marchant jusqu'à ce que le froid glace son désire et le tue.
I hope the translation isn't too bad, it's the longest I ever had to do :)
Then I wrote a short sequel to the same story, in English this time. It's my very very first Sean/Elijah. I really hope it's not too bad.
Warning: R/NC-17, possible bad English, and very unusual position (or so I think :p)
It was hard for Elijah to move: his legs were tangled with Sean's, his chest was trapped in Sean's strong arms, and he could feel the other man's breath in his neck. It was the third night they spent like this, getting a little closer each time. There was no more kisses, Sean had only kissed him that night after he had been wounded. Since then they had seen each other for a week, and Elijah had slept at Sean's only twice.
But every time they had ended up sleeping clutched to each other, the both of them feeling a comfort they had not felt for a very long time.
That night, when Elijah opened his eyes, wondering for the hundredth time how Sean could huddle so close to a beast like him, he felt a stirring in his groin. Sean's right hand was stroking his belly gently. The young man whimpered. Sean opened his eyes and his hand stopped its slow exploration.
'Elijah? You awake?' he whispered.
'Yeah.'
'I'm sorry, I...'
'No, it's okay. That is, if you don't mind.'
Elijah felt himself blushing which was particularly unusual with him. He suddenly wanted to get rid of all the barriers between his skin and Sean's.
'Sean', he sighed.
The older man understood, as clearly as if Elijah had spoken the words of his desire aloud. Softly, he stripped Elijah of his clothes and took his own off, never changing their positions, lying on their sides. Revealing their burning flesh, Sean kissed Elijah's neck and stroked his penis gently, starting to move slowly against him.
The feel of Sean's hard member pressed to his backside made Elijah moan and pant.
'Please', he said. And Sean needed no more words, he knew what the other wanted.
Reaching blindly behind him, Sean opened the night stand drawer and groped for condoms and lube. When he was ready, he stroked Elijah's opening carefully, applying lube around himself and inside his lover.
'You all right?'
'Yeah'
'Tell me if it hurts'
'Please, Sean!'
The man emitted a low groan and, lifting Elijah's right leg up, penetrated slowly. His right arm supported Elijah's leg and his right hand stroked Elijah's ardent flesh.
But the young man wanted more, and with a sudden move of his shoulders and hips, he pushed Sean on his back, finding himself lying on top of him, his head nestled in the crook of Sean's neck, his back pressed to Sean's broad chest. Sean lifted his knees so that his feet were firmly planted on the mattress. Elijah's legs were bent, and Sean held them, helping Elijah to follow the rhythm of his own body. Up and down, again and again, faster and faster, until they both reached climax. Elijah turned his head and kissed Sean passionately as they came together.
'Oh', Elijah said, sighing with pleasure and exhaustion.
'Elijah, I...'
'Love you', they said together, and both smiled.
As Elijah slowly relaxed and fell limply at Sean's side, the older man took his hand and kissed it. He then gathered Elijah in his arms and held him close, and just like the first time, he kissed his lips, softly, softly.
And this time Elijah really thought everything was all right.
I wish you again a very very very happy birthday!
*big tight hugs*