A Modest Proposal (slash)
And now for something COMPLETELY different from my last posting:
(Warnings: suggested sexxors, explicit swears, excessive emo)
"Mmmm." Alex lay on his stomach, resting his head against Paul's chest, idly nuzzling the golden brown curls. "Do you have the faintest notion how happy you make me?"
"Actually," said Paul, eyes closed, both hands playing with Alex's hair, "I know precisely how happy I make you. That's one of the few real perks of this whole empathic bond gig." He tugged on one lock gently. "Well, that and the multiple orgasms."
"Shut up about that, already. You're making me envious. Asshole." Alex blew out a satisfied sigh. "I wish..."
"What?"
"Well... I wish that I could know that about you, you know? Like you do." He propped himself up on his elbows and looked serious. "Sometimes, I wish I knew how you really felt. About me."
Paul sighed. "Alex, you do know that. I feel exactly the way you want me to feel about you."
"Yeah. That's what you say. But how do you feel when, I don't know, when I'm not around? That's what I want to know."
"No, you don't. You truly do not want to look inside my head when you're not there to help me out." Paul shook his head. "There's nothing in there but other people's fear and hate and ninety years of near-suicidal resignation." He tapped his finger on the Alex's lower lip. "You would much prefer to see the stuff you put in my head yourself. Trust me on this."
Alex frowned. "Okay. Yeah, maybe. But that's not what I... How do you feel about feeling what I want you to feel? No, that didn't come out right. I mean..."'
"Nah. I get it. How do I feel about that?" Paul smiled in contentment. "Pretty much overwhelmed by grateful astonishment. I've told you before."
"Yes. You have, but..." Alex lay his head down again, clenching his fists in frustration.
"Alex. Stop pushing. Please." Paul said, gently. "I can't say what you want to hear."
"Won't say it, you mean."
"No. Can't. I don't have the right."
Alex was silent for a while. His unhappiness tore at Paul, who started stroking his shoulders, dropping kisses, anything to distract Alex.
"Stop that." Alex pushed Paul's hands away irritably. He ran his own fingers through his hair. "Look. Let's try this. If you thought that I didn't... want you around anymore. If I wanted you gone. How would you feel? What would you do?"
Paul wondered what answer would cheer Alex up. He fell back on the simple truth. "Well, I guess I'd leave. With as little fuss as possible." He didn't need to see Alex's grimace to sense immediately that was the wrong thing to say.
"Just like that." Alex's mouth was a thin line. "You wouldn't even try to change my mind. You wouldn't try to find out what went wrong."
Paul was stuck with being honest, now. "Alex, believe me, I'd already know what was wrong. And when you want me to go..."
"If. Not 'when', dammit. I said, 'if.'"
"Fine. If you want me to go, then, well, I want to be gone. You know that. I can't help it."
"Fuck it." Alex rolled over on his side, away from Paul. "And it wouldn't even bother you at all, would it."
Paul lay still in the darkness a while, letting wave after wave of Alex's misery crest over him. He should be used to the sensation. That's what he was designed for, wasn't it? To call forth, take on, absorb all the negative emotions of others? After all, that's why Alex was going to send him away some day. Just as soon as he learned to despise Paul the way he was meant to, the way everybody else did.
No. This wasn't the same. This was Alex. And through the constant wash of pain, there was not the faintest hint of spite, not the slightest trace of disgust. There never was. Just a steady flow of respect, concern, desire, affection, love, making the sharp edge of despair all the more cutting. "It will bother me," Paul said softly.
Alex didn't turn back. "Of course you would say that," he answered in a savage tone. "That's what I want to hear, isn't it?"
Paul squeezed his eyes shut, fighting to keep the anguish out of his voice. "What should I say, then, Alex? Don't you understand? I can't even stand to think about it! Once you send me away.... once you stop loving me.... God! If anything short of your death could kill me, that will be it!" He drew a ragged breath. "Not bother me! Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!"
"Oh, Paul. Oh, Christ. I'm sorry." Alex rolled over straightway, and took Paul in his arms, held him tight. "I'm so sorry. I will never not want you. I will never ever not love you. I promise. Please believe me. Please."
Paul sank into the fierce hug, grateful for the slightest easing of Alex's unhappiness, then felt ashamed. Alex was still the one who was hurting. He had no business trying to comfort Paul. "It's all right, Alex. It really is. It's... just what has to happen. I... I'll be all right."
"Aw, hell." Alex stilled, but he didn't loosen his embrace. "You really believe that. You are so sure that I am going to... Son of a bitch."
"Alex..."
"You lied to me, then. You promised me. You told me I would not, could not hurt you. But you think... you know... that I am going to hurt you in the worst imaginable way. God damn it all to hell."
"Not on purpose, Alex. You would never... not deliberately. I swear it."
"Christ. So I am going to accidentally reject you. Betray you out of sheer fucking carelessness. Great. That is so much an improvement."
"No. No. It's not like that at all. It's just... Alex, it's what I am. What we all are. Feared. Hated. Cursed. You can't ignore that, fight that, forever. "
"Can't I?" Abruptly, Alex let go, and put hands over his eyes. "Jesus. You always insist that it's all about what I feel. That whatever I want, you want. But the one thing I want most in this whole universe, this one thing I need, is for you to trust me. To believe in me. In my love for you. And that's what you never ever give me."
"Alex..." Paul's throat was tight. "It's not that I don't trust you. I want to believe it. Of course I do, you want me to. Even if you didn't, how could I not want to believe that someone could actually want me, could actually ... love ... me, without having it all turn wrong and sour and ugly. But... You're asking me to just forget about everything I know about me and my kind. Everything I've have ever heard. Everything I've ever seen. Everything I've ever experienced. To put my faith in something that's completely impossible."
Alex did not look up. "Oh, yeah. Gee. Like that's something I've never been asked to do. Every time, say, you read my fucking mind."
"That isn't the same."
"No. No, it's not." Alex sighed. "I just... Jesus. I honestly, truly, with all my heart mean it when I say I love you, I will always love you, I can't imagine not loving you. But you... " He looked up, and his eyes were dark and haunted. "Paul, you know me better than anyone. You know me better than I do. If you say... If you know..." He lay back against the pillows, his arm flung over his face. "Well. Shit. I guess that I really am just as shallow and self-centered and unreliable as my family always says I am."
"No." Not Alex. This was not Alex. Not his charming, cheerful Alex. Not generous, kind, open-hearted Alex. And certainly not the Alex who so painstakingly buried his deepest instincts behind a façade of endless carefree impulsiveness, hiding them even from himself. Alex was right. Paul did know him better than that. He had always known Alex better than that. "Alex..."
"I'm so sorry. Sorry for making such a scene. Sorry in advance for whenever I finally screw up."
"Alex..." Paul took a deep breath. "Alex, would you marry me?"
Alex cracked an eye open to glare at him. "I'm having a serious emo moment here. Don't ruin it with stupid jokes."
"I'm not joking. You've asked me a hundred times. I know that you want to. I'm saying yes."
"Shit. You really are serious." Alex opened both eyes this time. Paul shivered as a spear of pure joy lanced through him. "You really mean it. Shit."
"So. That's a 'yes' from you too, then?"
"Yes, you asshole. Yes." Alex laughed weakly. "Oh my God. Yes. When? How?"
"I don't know. It's up to you. We could fly up to Canada, I guess. I've got a birth certificate there, I think. If you want all the social trappings, the parties and the priest, I guess we could ask your parents. I'm sure they know somebody who'd be willing to do the ceremony, if you don't care if it's legal. Whatever you want is fine with me."
"How about both?" Alex said eagerly, and laughed again. "Okay. Okay. Toronto first, before you change your mind."
"I won't --"
"Yeah. Okay. I just want to make sure. Then my parents, maybe. I'll think about it. God." He shook his head, and reached out to pull Paul in close. "Thank you, Paul. I mean it. Thanks. Jesus God. You have no idea... Okay, don’t tell me. You have a very good idea. But I do love you. I really really love you. You know that, right?"
"Yah," said Paul, kissing him softly. "I really really do."
(Warnings: suggested sexxors, explicit swears, excessive emo)
"Mmmm." Alex lay on his stomach, resting his head against Paul's chest, idly nuzzling the golden brown curls. "Do you have the faintest notion how happy you make me?"
"Actually," said Paul, eyes closed, both hands playing with Alex's hair, "I know precisely how happy I make you. That's one of the few real perks of this whole empathic bond gig." He tugged on one lock gently. "Well, that and the multiple orgasms."
"Shut up about that, already. You're making me envious. Asshole." Alex blew out a satisfied sigh. "I wish..."
"What?"
"Well... I wish that I could know that about you, you know? Like you do." He propped himself up on his elbows and looked serious. "Sometimes, I wish I knew how you really felt. About me."
Paul sighed. "Alex, you do know that. I feel exactly the way you want me to feel about you."
"Yeah. That's what you say. But how do you feel when, I don't know, when I'm not around? That's what I want to know."
"No, you don't. You truly do not want to look inside my head when you're not there to help me out." Paul shook his head. "There's nothing in there but other people's fear and hate and ninety years of near-suicidal resignation." He tapped his finger on the Alex's lower lip. "You would much prefer to see the stuff you put in my head yourself. Trust me on this."
Alex frowned. "Okay. Yeah, maybe. But that's not what I... How do you feel about feeling what I want you to feel? No, that didn't come out right. I mean..."'
"Nah. I get it. How do I feel about that?" Paul smiled in contentment. "Pretty much overwhelmed by grateful astonishment. I've told you before."
"Yes. You have, but..." Alex lay his head down again, clenching his fists in frustration.
"Alex. Stop pushing. Please." Paul said, gently. "I can't say what you want to hear."
"Won't say it, you mean."
"No. Can't. I don't have the right."
Alex was silent for a while. His unhappiness tore at Paul, who started stroking his shoulders, dropping kisses, anything to distract Alex.
"Stop that." Alex pushed Paul's hands away irritably. He ran his own fingers through his hair. "Look. Let's try this. If you thought that I didn't... want you around anymore. If I wanted you gone. How would you feel? What would you do?"
Paul wondered what answer would cheer Alex up. He fell back on the simple truth. "Well, I guess I'd leave. With as little fuss as possible." He didn't need to see Alex's grimace to sense immediately that was the wrong thing to say.
"Just like that." Alex's mouth was a thin line. "You wouldn't even try to change my mind. You wouldn't try to find out what went wrong."
Paul was stuck with being honest, now. "Alex, believe me, I'd already know what was wrong. And when you want me to go..."
"If. Not 'when', dammit. I said, 'if.'"
"Fine. If you want me to go, then, well, I want to be gone. You know that. I can't help it."
"Fuck it." Alex rolled over on his side, away from Paul. "And it wouldn't even bother you at all, would it."
Paul lay still in the darkness a while, letting wave after wave of Alex's misery crest over him. He should be used to the sensation. That's what he was designed for, wasn't it? To call forth, take on, absorb all the negative emotions of others? After all, that's why Alex was going to send him away some day. Just as soon as he learned to despise Paul the way he was meant to, the way everybody else did.
No. This wasn't the same. This was Alex. And through the constant wash of pain, there was not the faintest hint of spite, not the slightest trace of disgust. There never was. Just a steady flow of respect, concern, desire, affection, love, making the sharp edge of despair all the more cutting. "It will bother me," Paul said softly.
Alex didn't turn back. "Of course you would say that," he answered in a savage tone. "That's what I want to hear, isn't it?"
Paul squeezed his eyes shut, fighting to keep the anguish out of his voice. "What should I say, then, Alex? Don't you understand? I can't even stand to think about it! Once you send me away.... once you stop loving me.... God! If anything short of your death could kill me, that will be it!" He drew a ragged breath. "Not bother me! Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!"
"Oh, Paul. Oh, Christ. I'm sorry." Alex rolled over straightway, and took Paul in his arms, held him tight. "I'm so sorry. I will never not want you. I will never ever not love you. I promise. Please believe me. Please."
Paul sank into the fierce hug, grateful for the slightest easing of Alex's unhappiness, then felt ashamed. Alex was still the one who was hurting. He had no business trying to comfort Paul. "It's all right, Alex. It really is. It's... just what has to happen. I... I'll be all right."
"Aw, hell." Alex stilled, but he didn't loosen his embrace. "You really believe that. You are so sure that I am going to... Son of a bitch."
"Alex..."
"You lied to me, then. You promised me. You told me I would not, could not hurt you. But you think... you know... that I am going to hurt you in the worst imaginable way. God damn it all to hell."
"Not on purpose, Alex. You would never... not deliberately. I swear it."
"Christ. So I am going to accidentally reject you. Betray you out of sheer fucking carelessness. Great. That is so much an improvement."
"No. No. It's not like that at all. It's just... Alex, it's what I am. What we all are. Feared. Hated. Cursed. You can't ignore that, fight that, forever. "
"Can't I?" Abruptly, Alex let go, and put hands over his eyes. "Jesus. You always insist that it's all about what I feel. That whatever I want, you want. But the one thing I want most in this whole universe, this one thing I need, is for you to trust me. To believe in me. In my love for you. And that's what you never ever give me."
"Alex..." Paul's throat was tight. "It's not that I don't trust you. I want to believe it. Of course I do, you want me to. Even if you didn't, how could I not want to believe that someone could actually want me, could actually ... love ... me, without having it all turn wrong and sour and ugly. But... You're asking me to just forget about everything I know about me and my kind. Everything I've have ever heard. Everything I've ever seen. Everything I've ever experienced. To put my faith in something that's completely impossible."
Alex did not look up. "Oh, yeah. Gee. Like that's something I've never been asked to do. Every time, say, you read my fucking mind."
"That isn't the same."
"No. No, it's not." Alex sighed. "I just... Jesus. I honestly, truly, with all my heart mean it when I say I love you, I will always love you, I can't imagine not loving you. But you... " He looked up, and his eyes were dark and haunted. "Paul, you know me better than anyone. You know me better than I do. If you say... If you know..." He lay back against the pillows, his arm flung over his face. "Well. Shit. I guess that I really am just as shallow and self-centered and unreliable as my family always says I am."
"No." Not Alex. This was not Alex. Not his charming, cheerful Alex. Not generous, kind, open-hearted Alex. And certainly not the Alex who so painstakingly buried his deepest instincts behind a façade of endless carefree impulsiveness, hiding them even from himself. Alex was right. Paul did know him better than that. He had always known Alex better than that. "Alex..."
"I'm so sorry. Sorry for making such a scene. Sorry in advance for whenever I finally screw up."
"Alex..." Paul took a deep breath. "Alex, would you marry me?"
Alex cracked an eye open to glare at him. "I'm having a serious emo moment here. Don't ruin it with stupid jokes."
"I'm not joking. You've asked me a hundred times. I know that you want to. I'm saying yes."
"Shit. You really are serious." Alex opened both eyes this time. Paul shivered as a spear of pure joy lanced through him. "You really mean it. Shit."
"So. That's a 'yes' from you too, then?"
"Yes, you asshole. Yes." Alex laughed weakly. "Oh my God. Yes. When? How?"
"I don't know. It's up to you. We could fly up to Canada, I guess. I've got a birth certificate there, I think. If you want all the social trappings, the parties and the priest, I guess we could ask your parents. I'm sure they know somebody who'd be willing to do the ceremony, if you don't care if it's legal. Whatever you want is fine with me."
"How about both?" Alex said eagerly, and laughed again. "Okay. Okay. Toronto first, before you change your mind."
"I won't --"
"Yeah. Okay. I just want to make sure. Then my parents, maybe. I'll think about it. God." He shook his head, and reached out to pull Paul in close. "Thank you, Paul. I mean it. Thanks. Jesus God. You have no idea... Okay, don’t tell me. You have a very good idea. But I do love you. I really really love you. You know that, right?"
"Yah," said Paul, kissing him softly. "I really really do."