dS Snippet: Outside the Tent
Fandom and Characters: dS, Fraser
Rating: PG-13
Length: 287 words
Challenge: ds_snippets Amnesty Challenge #4: tent, discomfort
Thanks: To my beta, nos4a2no9.
I emerge from the tent and take a deep breath. I've spent most of the past two days in a doubled-up sleeping bag, drowning in his scent and voice and nearness while the temperatures dropped and the winds howled overhead. So the sight of blue skies and pukak snow promises a welcome respite.
Diefenbaker shakes himself free of the snow surrounding him. I release him from the lead line and begin mechanically feeding the dogs.
I know the names for dozens of types of snow and ice. But I have no name for the feelings battering me from within. I've tried to catalogue them, and so tame them, but with little success.
A warm glow of affection. Finding joy in his laugh. The fierce need to protect. The deep ache of impending loneliness, knowing the void his absence will create. The jealous urge to stake a claim, keep him here with me. Desire like a fever under my skin, the rising, gnawing need to reach out my hand and touch and take what I want. I'm almost sure he wouldn't stop me. He couldn't. Not out here.
This isn't love. Nothing so noble. It's close kin to standing on a great height, and feeling the impulse to just … step … off.
It's almost a relief when I recognize what's going on. Some part of me, when faced with the loss of this one bright thing, would rather destroy it than let go. I've seen the marks of that dark fire's passage once before, in Victoria's eyes.
The important thing is to keep control, keep the floodgates closed for a few more weeks, until we can part as friends.
The tent flap zips open behind me.
ETA: And here is the sequel, Inside the Tent.
Rating: PG-13
Length: 287 words
Challenge: ds_snippets Amnesty Challenge #4: tent, discomfort
Thanks: To my beta, nos4a2no9.
I emerge from the tent and take a deep breath. I've spent most of the past two days in a doubled-up sleeping bag, drowning in his scent and voice and nearness while the temperatures dropped and the winds howled overhead. So the sight of blue skies and pukak snow promises a welcome respite.
Diefenbaker shakes himself free of the snow surrounding him. I release him from the lead line and begin mechanically feeding the dogs.
I know the names for dozens of types of snow and ice. But I have no name for the feelings battering me from within. I've tried to catalogue them, and so tame them, but with little success.
A warm glow of affection. Finding joy in his laugh. The fierce need to protect. The deep ache of impending loneliness, knowing the void his absence will create. The jealous urge to stake a claim, keep him here with me. Desire like a fever under my skin, the rising, gnawing need to reach out my hand and touch and take what I want. I'm almost sure he wouldn't stop me. He couldn't. Not out here.
This isn't love. Nothing so noble. It's close kin to standing on a great height, and feeling the impulse to just … step … off.
It's almost a relief when I recognize what's going on. Some part of me, when faced with the loss of this one bright thing, would rather destroy it than let go. I've seen the marks of that dark fire's passage once before, in Victoria's eyes.
The important thing is to keep control, keep the floodgates closed for a few more weeks, until we can part as friends.
The tent flap zips open behind me.
ETA: And here is the sequel, Inside the Tent.