The little AU: Winter Hopes: Yearning
The little AU: Winter Hopes: Yearning
slashfairy
Morning Yearning/Ben Harper
A finger's touch upon my lips
It's a morning yearning, it's a morning yearning.
Pull the curtains shut, try to keep it dark
But the sun is burning, sun is burning.
The world awakens on the run
And will soon be earning, soon be earning
With hopes of better days to come
It's a morning yearning, morning yearning.
Another day, another chance to get it right
Must I still be learning, still be learning?
Baby crying kept us up all night
With her morning yearning, morning yearning.
Like a summer rose, I'm a victim of the fall
But I'm soon returning, soon returning.
Your love' s the warmest place the sun ever shines
My morning yearning, morning yearning.
~~
Orlando plays the song over and over, helpless before the truths of it.
He wants children. He does. He doesn't know if that makes him womanish, or sentimental, or if he cares what it makes him. He only knows that that one turn of phrase about the baby crying and her morning yearning has broken one of the dikes he's used to keep the lowlands of his need for family from being flooded by the frustrating realities of his life as he lives it now.
Not that he wants to give up any of it. But he can't put the pieces together properly, and so has no clear picture of what it is, exactly, he'd have to change to make it be more the life he's needing.
They've talked about it, he and Viggo and Karl- they understand, each of them a man with a son he got partly by accident and partly from need fulfilled and fully loved from day one of his little life. Neither of them can give Orlando a child, no matter how many stupid jokes they make about it- and they do, they joke about it, because that's easier than acknowledging the tangles that might- will- happen when the time comes Orli finds the right woman. They hold him in the night when he cries about it, and in the morning after he leaves they talk about the realities of it.
Because it can't be just anyone. It's got to be someone who understands that he's from an experimental family- that there're complications chosen and kept in his family of origin, and that she'd be expected to understand and choose him as a complicated man- a man with two male lovers, and a need to be highly social, and a need for a family of his own, if he can make it happen, if it will weave itself into the cloth of his life.
He's never been able to have a decent conversation with Robin or Aleen about it- they brush it aside, just as they do Karl and Viggo, or put on pinched faces and tolerate it for a bit, as they also do the two men, and then change the subject, move him away from this to something they can seemingly control, like what scripts he sees and where he's ambushed by paparazzi [though he's not accused them of that, yet].
So he finds himself in New York, or in Los Angeles, or Tokyo or Paris or London or Milan or Hong Kong, flashbulbs in his face and rumour flying, and his tongue tied on this subject, the baby crying in his heart keeping him up all night because he has no words for this yearning, only lessons he's learning as he goes along.
previously: Shape
next: Night
slashfairy
Morning Yearning/Ben Harper
A finger's touch upon my lips
It's a morning yearning, it's a morning yearning.
Pull the curtains shut, try to keep it dark
But the sun is burning, sun is burning.
The world awakens on the run
And will soon be earning, soon be earning
With hopes of better days to come
It's a morning yearning, morning yearning.
Another day, another chance to get it right
Must I still be learning, still be learning?
Baby crying kept us up all night
With her morning yearning, morning yearning.
Like a summer rose, I'm a victim of the fall
But I'm soon returning, soon returning.
Your love' s the warmest place the sun ever shines
My morning yearning, morning yearning.
~~
Orlando plays the song over and over, helpless before the truths of it.
He wants children. He does. He doesn't know if that makes him womanish, or sentimental, or if he cares what it makes him. He only knows that that one turn of phrase about the baby crying and her morning yearning has broken one of the dikes he's used to keep the lowlands of his need for family from being flooded by the frustrating realities of his life as he lives it now.
Not that he wants to give up any of it. But he can't put the pieces together properly, and so has no clear picture of what it is, exactly, he'd have to change to make it be more the life he's needing.
They've talked about it, he and Viggo and Karl- they understand, each of them a man with a son he got partly by accident and partly from need fulfilled and fully loved from day one of his little life. Neither of them can give Orlando a child, no matter how many stupid jokes they make about it- and they do, they joke about it, because that's easier than acknowledging the tangles that might- will- happen when the time comes Orli finds the right woman. They hold him in the night when he cries about it, and in the morning after he leaves they talk about the realities of it.
Because it can't be just anyone. It's got to be someone who understands that he's from an experimental family- that there're complications chosen and kept in his family of origin, and that she'd be expected to understand and choose him as a complicated man- a man with two male lovers, and a need to be highly social, and a need for a family of his own, if he can make it happen, if it will weave itself into the cloth of his life.
He's never been able to have a decent conversation with Robin or Aleen about it- they brush it aside, just as they do Karl and Viggo, or put on pinched faces and tolerate it for a bit, as they also do the two men, and then change the subject, move him away from this to something they can seemingly control, like what scripts he sees and where he's ambushed by paparazzi [though he's not accused them of that, yet].
So he finds himself in New York, or in Los Angeles, or Tokyo or Paris or London or Milan or Hong Kong, flashbulbs in his face and rumour flying, and his tongue tied on this subject, the baby crying in his heart keeping him up all night because he has no words for this yearning, only lessons he's learning as he goes along.
previously: Shape
next: Night