Worship, for puszysty
Title: Worship
Author: brennanspeaks
Summary: After the mutiny, Louis says goodbye.
Pairing: Gaeta/Hoshi
Rating: M
Warnings: Sex, but not graphic
Remixed From: A Goodbye I Didn’t Know I Needed by puszysty (for the bsg_pornbattle)
The last time Louis has sex with Felix, it surprises them both. Louis hadn’t gone to the spare quarters looking for sex. He hadn’t even gone to say goodbye-though the clock on Felix’s life was running out so quickly. He went because . . . because with the mutiny over and the end looming, he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.
But when a Marine swings the door open and he sees Felix hunched over a cold metal table, a deep and nameless need wells within him. Felix looks so desolate as he sits alone, absently reaching under a frayed pant leg to rub a scarred stump. He looks empty; as empty as Louis feels.
They watch each other silently as the guard steps out and pulls the hatch shut. The silence is crushing them, but there are no words. Louis speaks anyway, because he owes Felix that, even if all he can come up with is “I really don’t have anything to say.”
He needs to be close to him-closer than the spartan steel table will permit. He lifts Felix gently, half expecting protest. Felix doesn’t object, but he won’t look at Louis either; he just curls into Louis’ chest for the few steps it takes them to reach the rack, listening to his heartbeat. Louis sets him down and Felix just sits there, staring at his knees while the inches between them stretch into light-years.
So, they sit together on the bed and feel the time trickle away. Felix doesn’t say anything, but he lets Louis share in this final vigil. It’s not enough. There was so much more they should have done, should have had. And one thing Louis regrets the most.
“It’s just that I never . . .”
“I know,” Felix says, and Louis knows he does, because he could never say the words either, and that void is yet another thing they’ve shared. Felix’s uninjured leg trembles slightly, and Louis gently caresses the other man’s knee-for comfort or for solace he can’t say. Felix glances his way reflexively and their eyes meet and lock for the first time. The need in Louis’ chest coalesces into a hard knot, and he sees the same need reflected back in Felix’s dark eyes. Felix leans in and kisses him softly. It tastes like goodbye.
He lays Felix out reverently, like a king in state, and slowly goes to work on the buttons of his jacket. Felix was always so proud of his uniform, even when it grew faded and worn and he had to cut the right pant leg off. Louis folds each piece precisely and lowers it to the floor. Felix will need his uniform, if only to stand before the firing squad with dignity.
But, when he looks up, he doesn’t see a battle-hardened Colonial officer or a condemned mutineer; he sees the man he fell in love with, the man he would have died for, the man he’s watched slip away by inches for so many months. He’s half-afraid to touch him at first, afraid he might break the illusion and see the bitter shields come back up. But Felix sighs softly and arches into Louis’ hand.
He tries to memorize his body: dark skin pulled tighter over ribs than he remembers, tiny moles along his sloping shoulders, fading bruises, tattoos, scars. Louis kisses the dark circles under his eyes as if he can take the years away. Felix finds his lips with his own again and kisses as though he believes him.
A small bottle of lube sits heavy in Louis’ pocket; a testimony to just how long it’s been since Louis has worn a clean uniform. Has it really been there since the last time? The last time feels like lifetimes ago. Still, this is familiar. It takes Louis only a moment to prepare himself and Felix. Louis slips into his lover’s body and closes his eyes to keep from weeping. There is no heat, no eroticism, only the slow, gentle rhythm of worship in a temple to the last days of time.
Felix’s right side shakes slightly from the strain of holding his stump up, so Louis wraps an arm around it, supporting Felix as much as he will let him. The supple body beneath him rocks with the ebb and flow of their lovemaking. Felix’s eyes are so distant, so detached, that for an instant Louis fights the urge to shake him, to slam into him, wake him up, demand that he stay among the living a little longer. Then Felix kisses him again, his lips ghosting over Louis’ mouth, and he is so serene that Louis can’t bear to pull him back. Felix is passing already from the land of the living, going somewhere Louis couldn’t follow. Let him stay. Louis can only hope he will be happier there.
As for Louis, he only wants to bask a little longer in Felix’s fading presence, wants to bury himself deep in him and hope a part of him can stay rooted there forever, wants to forget himself-if only for an instant-in the familiar rhythm. The need in his chest slowly unravels as each slow thrust brings him closer to the closure he both dreads and longs for.
Like all things, it’s over far too soon. Louis comes, with Felix only a few seconds behind. He sinks down, and Felix’s warm body shifts to accommodate him. Long ago, they were promised a new home, but both now realize that these stolen seconds are the only home they will ever know. Louis feels the last of his resolve crumble, and the tears come fast and silent. “I love you.” He whispers brokenly, the words they most needed, the words he could never say. He buries his head in Felix’s shoulder.
A single tear trickles down Felix’s cheek and into Louis’ hair. “I love you, too.”
Author: brennanspeaks
Summary: After the mutiny, Louis says goodbye.
Pairing: Gaeta/Hoshi
Rating: M
Warnings: Sex, but not graphic
Remixed From: A Goodbye I Didn’t Know I Needed by puszysty (for the bsg_pornbattle)
The last time Louis has sex with Felix, it surprises them both. Louis hadn’t gone to the spare quarters looking for sex. He hadn’t even gone to say goodbye-though the clock on Felix’s life was running out so quickly. He went because . . . because with the mutiny over and the end looming, he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.
But when a Marine swings the door open and he sees Felix hunched over a cold metal table, a deep and nameless need wells within him. Felix looks so desolate as he sits alone, absently reaching under a frayed pant leg to rub a scarred stump. He looks empty; as empty as Louis feels.
They watch each other silently as the guard steps out and pulls the hatch shut. The silence is crushing them, but there are no words. Louis speaks anyway, because he owes Felix that, even if all he can come up with is “I really don’t have anything to say.”
He needs to be close to him-closer than the spartan steel table will permit. He lifts Felix gently, half expecting protest. Felix doesn’t object, but he won’t look at Louis either; he just curls into Louis’ chest for the few steps it takes them to reach the rack, listening to his heartbeat. Louis sets him down and Felix just sits there, staring at his knees while the inches between them stretch into light-years.
So, they sit together on the bed and feel the time trickle away. Felix doesn’t say anything, but he lets Louis share in this final vigil. It’s not enough. There was so much more they should have done, should have had. And one thing Louis regrets the most.
“It’s just that I never . . .”
“I know,” Felix says, and Louis knows he does, because he could never say the words either, and that void is yet another thing they’ve shared. Felix’s uninjured leg trembles slightly, and Louis gently caresses the other man’s knee-for comfort or for solace he can’t say. Felix glances his way reflexively and their eyes meet and lock for the first time. The need in Louis’ chest coalesces into a hard knot, and he sees the same need reflected back in Felix’s dark eyes. Felix leans in and kisses him softly. It tastes like goodbye.
He lays Felix out reverently, like a king in state, and slowly goes to work on the buttons of his jacket. Felix was always so proud of his uniform, even when it grew faded and worn and he had to cut the right pant leg off. Louis folds each piece precisely and lowers it to the floor. Felix will need his uniform, if only to stand before the firing squad with dignity.
But, when he looks up, he doesn’t see a battle-hardened Colonial officer or a condemned mutineer; he sees the man he fell in love with, the man he would have died for, the man he’s watched slip away by inches for so many months. He’s half-afraid to touch him at first, afraid he might break the illusion and see the bitter shields come back up. But Felix sighs softly and arches into Louis’ hand.
He tries to memorize his body: dark skin pulled tighter over ribs than he remembers, tiny moles along his sloping shoulders, fading bruises, tattoos, scars. Louis kisses the dark circles under his eyes as if he can take the years away. Felix finds his lips with his own again and kisses as though he believes him.
A small bottle of lube sits heavy in Louis’ pocket; a testimony to just how long it’s been since Louis has worn a clean uniform. Has it really been there since the last time? The last time feels like lifetimes ago. Still, this is familiar. It takes Louis only a moment to prepare himself and Felix. Louis slips into his lover’s body and closes his eyes to keep from weeping. There is no heat, no eroticism, only the slow, gentle rhythm of worship in a temple to the last days of time.
Felix’s right side shakes slightly from the strain of holding his stump up, so Louis wraps an arm around it, supporting Felix as much as he will let him. The supple body beneath him rocks with the ebb and flow of their lovemaking. Felix’s eyes are so distant, so detached, that for an instant Louis fights the urge to shake him, to slam into him, wake him up, demand that he stay among the living a little longer. Then Felix kisses him again, his lips ghosting over Louis’ mouth, and he is so serene that Louis can’t bear to pull him back. Felix is passing already from the land of the living, going somewhere Louis couldn’t follow. Let him stay. Louis can only hope he will be happier there.
As for Louis, he only wants to bask a little longer in Felix’s fading presence, wants to bury himself deep in him and hope a part of him can stay rooted there forever, wants to forget himself-if only for an instant-in the familiar rhythm. The need in his chest slowly unravels as each slow thrust brings him closer to the closure he both dreads and longs for.
Like all things, it’s over far too soon. Louis comes, with Felix only a few seconds behind. He sinks down, and Felix’s warm body shifts to accommodate him. Long ago, they were promised a new home, but both now realize that these stolen seconds are the only home they will ever know. Louis feels the last of his resolve crumble, and the tears come fast and silent. “I love you.” He whispers brokenly, the words they most needed, the words he could never say. He buries his head in Felix’s shoulder.
A single tear trickles down Felix’s cheek and into Louis’ hair. “I love you, too.”