Grace, etc.
Mar. 27th, 2004 01:20 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aimeeliciousSo I went out tonight and drank/played pool for like, 6 hours, something I haven't done in a long while. It was fun. And now I'm home and ready to finally post a new chapter of Grace. Scary. I had some trouble wrangling this part, I had places I wanted it to go, and it just wouldn't cooperate (actually, the boys would not cooperate, but I don't want any bad press to get back to them). So the slow boat to China continues floating onwards. Slowly. =)
Previous parts here. Still not NC-17. Patience!
:: points at slow boat ::
------------------------------------------------------
His arms were completely numb, but it was kind of satisfying. One more part of his body he couldn't feel, at least temporarily. Xander glanced down at Paddy, still sleeping on his lap, and wondered how long they'd been like this, man and boy precariously sharing the edge of a bed.
He'd let his mind wander as he sat, and thankfully it hadn't gone far. Just some random thoughts, mostly about his life in Cleveland. Or what passed for life there. The attack earlier was a miserable reminder of the dangerous emotional waters he was in here, but Xander had to admit at this point that Willow was kind of right about how things had been lately. Or really, if he was way honest, since Sunnydale. He had needed the geographic distance from beautiful Ohio to see that all was not well in Xander-world. But his self-imposed leash still kept him from moving beyond that admission, since going further meant memories of Anya, of death and innocence, friends turning to ash and all the things...he could feel himself trembling slightly from strain and he wasn't sure if it was physical or mental. Maybe it was both. He was tired. Definitely time to focus on something else.
Although the curtains were drawn, it seemed like the light outside had both changed and lessened considerably. He thought Oz would have been back by now, must be pretty late in the day. Shifting uncomfortably, Xander contemplated getting up, but Paddy seemed too content to disturb. Then again, he really didn't want to lose his arms completely due to lack of circulation. He heard the back door open and close and immediately felt relieved. An actual parental figure was coming to the rescue. At least that's what he thought until Oz came into view.
A huge bruise that was definitely going to be a nasty black eye smudged Oz's face, and he stood propped against the doorway, obviously in pain.
"You ok?" Xander whispered, realizing it was a stupid question even as the words left his mouth. Clearly something had gone wrong.
"Be fine. Ran into a little trouble, company doctor patched me up. How's Paddy?"
"He cried for a bit after you left, finally fell asleep. I've been afraid to move because I don't want him to wake up but we've been sitting like this for a while and I can't feel my arms."
"Usually he's out for hours when this happens," Oz said, gingerly moving into the room. "Go ahead and lay him on the bed."
Xander groaned slightly as he turned, muscles held still for too long protesting. He deposited his charge and together they removed Paddy's sneakers and pulled up the comforter while he continued to sleep, letting out only a slight snuffle at the disturbance.
Closing the door behind him, Xander followed Oz back out into the living room and watched as he removed his jacket, hissing with each movement, then took a pill with water already on the coffee table.
"So what happened?"
"That was supposed to be my line," Oz said as he maneuvered his way onto the couch with a sigh.
"Well, you first since you're making the actual pained noises."
"The business I had to take care of this afternoon didn't go smoothly."
"Obviously," said Xander, a bit more sarcastically than he'd intended. "So *what happened*?"
Oz winced as he tried to take a deep breath. "The guy had a few people with him I wasn't expecting. Fortunately they weren't too quick, but I didn't get out before they got a few kicks in. Doctor says I have a couple of bruised ribs, bruised kidney and of course, the shiner."
Xander walked over and sat down, close. "Has this happened before?"
"Not often. Wouldn't work there if it went on a lot, don't want to scare Paddy."
"Like this time won't? He's already upset, imagine what he'll think when he wakes up and sees your face." Xander couldn't stop himself from saying the revealing words. He had no idea where this protective streak for the strange little family of two was coming from, but the anger was evident nonetheless and now Oz knew he cared.
If someone were to take their picture right at that moment, Xander imagined it wouldn't look that way, Oz with his face scrunched up from hurt, Xander leaning toward him, muscles taut. But the camera would miss the truth, the tenderness he was feeling, his desire to make both Oz and Paddy better. It was strange, to suddenly be thinking beyond himself again. Scary, really. He had allowed himself concern for Willow, but with her Wicca strength she was a match for pretty much anything. These two were vulnerable, and the thought alone made part of him want to run screaming from the house, from Oregon, from everywhere.
His earlier plans to leave seemed far off now, though. The tired man in front of him was more important, like it or not. Xander slowly brushed the back of his hand along the side of Oz's head, feeling the soft bristle of hair against his skin, letting his tension ebb.
"What are you doing, Xander?"
"Touching you. I'm sorry." He actually hadn't registered that he was doing it and began to pull back, but paused when Oz put a hand on his thigh.
"Feels good. Don't stop."
Xander gently curled around him then, stroking his neck and his hair, trying to give comfort and reveling in the appreciative little sounds that came in response. The easy pressure of Oz's hand, the random patterns those fingers were tracing above his knee--it was good to be close to someone again, to hear the reassuring sound of a solid heart beat under skin. It felt like they were in a cocoon together, seeking each other out for warmth and peace. He could have stayed like that forever.
"So what about you. Will you tell me about this morning?"
The quietly murmured words didn't sink in at first, but when they did Xander stiffened. Back to reality, so soon it hurt. He couldn't talk about it, could he? Too many explanations might be required, too much of the past revisited. The pad of Oz's thumb hadn't stopped moving and Xander focused on that touch, unable to answer the question.
There was a time then, as the stillness went on, that the tenuous, invisible arc between them twisted, threatening to break under the strain. For reasons just beginning to push into his awareness, Xander absolutely could not let that happen. He forced himself to speak.
"Panic attack. I got them for a while after I lost my eye, but I haven't had one in months. Wasn't expecting it today, that's for sure. Luckily I dropped Paddy off before it hit."
Oz pondered this and Xander's breath hitched as he anticipated a question he couldn't handle.
"Do you feel better now?"
That wasn't what he'd expected. "Felt good a few minutes ago when I wasn't talking about it," he tried to joke, but knowing Oz was serious he continued. "Yeah, I do feel better. Need a shower desperately, but I'm much less shaky now. Once it's over I'm usually just pretty worn out." Suddenly Xander felt very conscious of his disheveled state, embarrassed to be so close when he was still such a mess.
"You're fine," Oz said as he held on tight, preventing Xander from untangling himself and getting up. "Relax."
Xander was torn between the care Oz was showing and the cold fear he could sense in his gut that was dying to get out again. Finally he acquiesced and rested cautiously against Oz once more, but the earlier feelings of contentment were gone.
"I've never had a panic attack, but I would guess they're pretty bad. Any idea what brings them on?"
"Stress, mostly," said Xander, his voice muffled in Oz's shoulder.
"So, you're stressed here?"
"Um, I guess, yeah." He waited.
"About what?"
Here it was then. The opening he needed. "This break from my routine, it's..." Xander stopped briefly, reaching for the right words. "It's making me think about things I usually don't. And, you. I think about you."
Oz's voice was husky when he said, "You're on my mind too. Have been for a long time." But then he yawned, and Xander had to chuckle.
"Big reveal, followed by big yawn. You must be tired, you should rest."
"Only if you come with me."
"I have to shower first, I'm a disaster."
"You're fine," Oz repeated. "Please, Xander, just come lie down with me."
And it occurred to Xander that the comfort and pleasure he had felt before, Oz must have felt also. They were both alone in their own way, and at least for him, being close to someone else was a luxury long denied. He didn't even want to say no, not when his own need was so close to the surface.
The two men made their way slowly to Oz's bedroom, stopping only long enough to shed shoes and Oz's tie before they lay down, carefully entwining limbs once more under a loosely draped blanket. Xander knew much remained unspoken and unresolved. But right now, as he felt Oz's breath warm on his neck, he also knew *this* was good.
Previous parts here. Still not NC-17. Patience!
:: points at slow boat ::
------------------------------------------------------
His arms were completely numb, but it was kind of satisfying. One more part of his body he couldn't feel, at least temporarily. Xander glanced down at Paddy, still sleeping on his lap, and wondered how long they'd been like this, man and boy precariously sharing the edge of a bed.
He'd let his mind wander as he sat, and thankfully it hadn't gone far. Just some random thoughts, mostly about his life in Cleveland. Or what passed for life there. The attack earlier was a miserable reminder of the dangerous emotional waters he was in here, but Xander had to admit at this point that Willow was kind of right about how things had been lately. Or really, if he was way honest, since Sunnydale. He had needed the geographic distance from beautiful Ohio to see that all was not well in Xander-world. But his self-imposed leash still kept him from moving beyond that admission, since going further meant memories of Anya, of death and innocence, friends turning to ash and all the things...he could feel himself trembling slightly from strain and he wasn't sure if it was physical or mental. Maybe it was both. He was tired. Definitely time to focus on something else.
Although the curtains were drawn, it seemed like the light outside had both changed and lessened considerably. He thought Oz would have been back by now, must be pretty late in the day. Shifting uncomfortably, Xander contemplated getting up, but Paddy seemed too content to disturb. Then again, he really didn't want to lose his arms completely due to lack of circulation. He heard the back door open and close and immediately felt relieved. An actual parental figure was coming to the rescue. At least that's what he thought until Oz came into view.
A huge bruise that was definitely going to be a nasty black eye smudged Oz's face, and he stood propped against the doorway, obviously in pain.
"You ok?" Xander whispered, realizing it was a stupid question even as the words left his mouth. Clearly something had gone wrong.
"Be fine. Ran into a little trouble, company doctor patched me up. How's Paddy?"
"He cried for a bit after you left, finally fell asleep. I've been afraid to move because I don't want him to wake up but we've been sitting like this for a while and I can't feel my arms."
"Usually he's out for hours when this happens," Oz said, gingerly moving into the room. "Go ahead and lay him on the bed."
Xander groaned slightly as he turned, muscles held still for too long protesting. He deposited his charge and together they removed Paddy's sneakers and pulled up the comforter while he continued to sleep, letting out only a slight snuffle at the disturbance.
Closing the door behind him, Xander followed Oz back out into the living room and watched as he removed his jacket, hissing with each movement, then took a pill with water already on the coffee table.
"So what happened?"
"That was supposed to be my line," Oz said as he maneuvered his way onto the couch with a sigh.
"Well, you first since you're making the actual pained noises."
"The business I had to take care of this afternoon didn't go smoothly."
"Obviously," said Xander, a bit more sarcastically than he'd intended. "So *what happened*?"
Oz winced as he tried to take a deep breath. "The guy had a few people with him I wasn't expecting. Fortunately they weren't too quick, but I didn't get out before they got a few kicks in. Doctor says I have a couple of bruised ribs, bruised kidney and of course, the shiner."
Xander walked over and sat down, close. "Has this happened before?"
"Not often. Wouldn't work there if it went on a lot, don't want to scare Paddy."
"Like this time won't? He's already upset, imagine what he'll think when he wakes up and sees your face." Xander couldn't stop himself from saying the revealing words. He had no idea where this protective streak for the strange little family of two was coming from, but the anger was evident nonetheless and now Oz knew he cared.
If someone were to take their picture right at that moment, Xander imagined it wouldn't look that way, Oz with his face scrunched up from hurt, Xander leaning toward him, muscles taut. But the camera would miss the truth, the tenderness he was feeling, his desire to make both Oz and Paddy better. It was strange, to suddenly be thinking beyond himself again. Scary, really. He had allowed himself concern for Willow, but with her Wicca strength she was a match for pretty much anything. These two were vulnerable, and the thought alone made part of him want to run screaming from the house, from Oregon, from everywhere.
His earlier plans to leave seemed far off now, though. The tired man in front of him was more important, like it or not. Xander slowly brushed the back of his hand along the side of Oz's head, feeling the soft bristle of hair against his skin, letting his tension ebb.
"What are you doing, Xander?"
"Touching you. I'm sorry." He actually hadn't registered that he was doing it and began to pull back, but paused when Oz put a hand on his thigh.
"Feels good. Don't stop."
Xander gently curled around him then, stroking his neck and his hair, trying to give comfort and reveling in the appreciative little sounds that came in response. The easy pressure of Oz's hand, the random patterns those fingers were tracing above his knee--it was good to be close to someone again, to hear the reassuring sound of a solid heart beat under skin. It felt like they were in a cocoon together, seeking each other out for warmth and peace. He could have stayed like that forever.
"So what about you. Will you tell me about this morning?"
The quietly murmured words didn't sink in at first, but when they did Xander stiffened. Back to reality, so soon it hurt. He couldn't talk about it, could he? Too many explanations might be required, too much of the past revisited. The pad of Oz's thumb hadn't stopped moving and Xander focused on that touch, unable to answer the question.
There was a time then, as the stillness went on, that the tenuous, invisible arc between them twisted, threatening to break under the strain. For reasons just beginning to push into his awareness, Xander absolutely could not let that happen. He forced himself to speak.
"Panic attack. I got them for a while after I lost my eye, but I haven't had one in months. Wasn't expecting it today, that's for sure. Luckily I dropped Paddy off before it hit."
Oz pondered this and Xander's breath hitched as he anticipated a question he couldn't handle.
"Do you feel better now?"
That wasn't what he'd expected. "Felt good a few minutes ago when I wasn't talking about it," he tried to joke, but knowing Oz was serious he continued. "Yeah, I do feel better. Need a shower desperately, but I'm much less shaky now. Once it's over I'm usually just pretty worn out." Suddenly Xander felt very conscious of his disheveled state, embarrassed to be so close when he was still such a mess.
"You're fine," Oz said as he held on tight, preventing Xander from untangling himself and getting up. "Relax."
Xander was torn between the care Oz was showing and the cold fear he could sense in his gut that was dying to get out again. Finally he acquiesced and rested cautiously against Oz once more, but the earlier feelings of contentment were gone.
"I've never had a panic attack, but I would guess they're pretty bad. Any idea what brings them on?"
"Stress, mostly," said Xander, his voice muffled in Oz's shoulder.
"So, you're stressed here?"
"Um, I guess, yeah." He waited.
"About what?"
Here it was then. The opening he needed. "This break from my routine, it's..." Xander stopped briefly, reaching for the right words. "It's making me think about things I usually don't. And, you. I think about you."
Oz's voice was husky when he said, "You're on my mind too. Have been for a long time." But then he yawned, and Xander had to chuckle.
"Big reveal, followed by big yawn. You must be tired, you should rest."
"Only if you come with me."
"I have to shower first, I'm a disaster."
"You're fine," Oz repeated. "Please, Xander, just come lie down with me."
And it occurred to Xander that the comfort and pleasure he had felt before, Oz must have felt also. They were both alone in their own way, and at least for him, being close to someone else was a luxury long denied. He didn't even want to say no, not when his own need was so close to the surface.
The two men made their way slowly to Oz's bedroom, stopping only long enough to shed shoes and Oz's tie before they lay down, carefully entwining limbs once more under a loosely draped blanket. Xander knew much remained unspoken and unresolved. But right now, as he felt Oz's breath warm on his neck, he also knew *this* was good.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2004-03-29 04:47 am (UTC)Lovely chapter.
no subject
Date: 2004-03-29 08:03 am (UTC)