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A heap of gay

Location: The Cravat
Time: Out of time

Seeing Gabe and Jeannot emerging from within the closet with the cot, Watson took hold of the center section. "Do you mind if I assist you?" He asked, all calm British cordiality.


Jan. 16th, 2007 10:48 pm (UTC)
Gabe looked at Jeannot curiously, not quite understanding. "I can't what?" he asked kindly, not letting go of Jeannot's hand. He lifted the other one to touch his love's cheek, gently tilting his head up so he could look him in the eyes. "I can't what, bel?"
Jan. 16th, 2007 11:13 pm (UTC)
"You can't--" Jeannot took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying hard to control himself. He was still frightened of what Gabe would think of him, if he knew the things that Jeannot had done, but he had to say them, if only so that Gabe knew what kind of person he truly was. "You love me, and so you can't help me to-- to--" He gripped Gabe's hand tightly, letting the words out in a rush. "To do penance for leaving Alexandre. To hurt me so that I can forget that he never did, to hurt me as much as I hurt him--" Jeannot bit his lip hard and stared at the floor, afraid to face Gabe's disgust. "What I've done, Gabe..." He shivered again, feeling dirty, not worthy of any regard, let alone love, from this man. "I have gone to the darkest sections of Paris," he whispered, shivering with each word, but unable to stop talking, "and found men who frightened me, and let them do-- anything they would--" He unconsciously touched a hand to his cheek, remembering. "Let strangers fuck me," he continued, his voice gone hoarse. "Let them hurt me, in penance for the pain I caused him." Jeannot shivered again and dropped Gabe's hand, afraid of contaminating him with his sin.
Jan. 16th, 2007 11:49 pm (UTC)
"Sometimes," Gabe said calmly, his voice not betraying the seeds of panick that were beginning to sprout, and took back Jeannot's hand. "I wonder if you really know who you're talking to." He lifted his love's hand to his mouth. "I don't mind," he whispered, kissing it once. "So long as I don't become one of those strangers." With that he took a step forward and embraced Jeannot, hoping he wouldn't pull away. He bowed his head, waiting for a reaction, a rejection, anything. He knew he'd been used before, just as he'd used others. Hell, even Caleb had used him, after Derek died, just to try to forget. But to have come so far, to love someone this much, only to have been a just another stranger in his bed?

He didn't know what he'd do, and as hard as he tried not to think about it, he couldn't stop.
Jan. 17th, 2007 12:11 am (UTC)
Jeannot went tense in Gabe's arms, uncertain whether his lover truly meant it. After a moment, seeing that Gabe was not letting go, he sighed and went limp with relief, hugging Gabe tightly, tears coming to his eyes once more. "You, Gabe?" he whispered. "You? You could never be a stranger. You can't." He pulled back to look Gabe in the eye. "Because you love me," he told him, clinging to this belief as the only thing he was really sure of, anymore. He shook his head, wondering why Gabe didn't despise him, after learning that. "You shouldn't love me," he whispered. "I will hurt you, as I hurt him. I have hurt you. I don't know how not to." Jeannot bit his lip again, forcing himself to concentrate, and not to break down again. "You deserve a better man than me, aimé," he whispered.
Jan. 17th, 2007 12:26 am (UTC)
Gabe closed his eyes, relieved, when Jeannot relaxed in his embrace. He opened them again as Jeannot pulled back slightly and was glad to see his love's blue eyes looking into his. "If there's a better man than you, bel," Gabe replied. "I've never met him." He leaned in and kissed Jeannot softly, barely lingering for a second. "Besides," he said, smiling. "I can deal with a little pain, so long as I don't have to deal with it alone."
Jan. 17th, 2007 02:26 am (UTC)
"I won't leave you alone," Jeannot promised Gabe, tightening his arms around his lover, never wanting to let him go at all. "I won't. But don't let me hurt you, aimé," he whispered into Gabe's ear. "Don't let me hurt you, even if it is only because I love you." He sighed and laid his head down on Gabe's shoulder, weary to the bone, but unwilling to let him go for any reason, just now. "I love you," he repeated quietly, and closed his eyes, the remnants of his tears drying on his cheeks.
Jan. 17th, 2007 02:54 am (UTC)
"Je t'aime, aussi?" Gabe said, hesitantly, and then laughed at himself, softly. "That was wrong, wasn't it?" he asked. "Oh well. I love you, and it's the thought that counts." He realized he was probably babbling and quieted himself, contented just to look at Jeannot for a moment, though his concern at the weariness on his face soon had him speaking again. "Would you like to lie down, bel? Like I said, I can get sheets and blankets and things if you want them."
Jan. 17th, 2007 03:14 am (UTC)
Jeannot wanted nothing more than to agree to Gabe's suggestion, but he couldn't face letting go of him, at the moment, and tightened his grasp on his lover at the thought. "Whatever you like, aimé," he murmured into Gabe's neck, snuggling closer to him, feeling as though he wouldn't need a bed to sleep. "As long as you hold me." He wasn't thinking about anything beside the necessity to stay in Gabe's arms, where he would be warm and safe and secure, as though he had always belonged there.
Jan. 17th, 2007 03:28 am (UTC)
Gabe smiled. "I like holding you," he replied, quite seriously. "I love it, in fact, but eventually I'm going to fall over."
Jan. 17th, 2007 03:36 am (UTC)
"Then I'll fall with you," Jeannot said softly, but he shifted slightly away from Gabe, so that he wasn't leaning on him quite so much. He took a deep breath and managed a smile for his love. "I suppose we ought to dress our bed, then, mon amour," he murmured. "Where can we find the blankets, do you think?"
Jan. 17th, 2007 11:30 pm (UTC)
"Probably in the closet," Gabe replied, glad to see Jeannot smiling, even if he suspected it was faked. "Everything else in the world seems to be there." He leaned in and kissed Jeannot's forehead softly. "I can run down there alone," he said. "I'm at least a little dressed." He paused. "If you don't mind being alone for a minute or two?"
Jan. 18th, 2007 12:00 am (UTC)
Inexplicably frightened for a moment, Jeannot tightened his grip on Gabe at the thought of separating from him. He was immediately ashamed at it and made himself let go of his lover, berating himself for being childish. "I don't mind," he said, doing his best to convince himself of that fact. He stepped back to prove that he could, that he was strong enough, and gave Gabe another smile, strained though it was. "I don't suppose there is such a thing as a sketchbook and a set of charcoals to go with the paints, in that closet," he said softly, "but if you find anything-- paper, pencil, ink, anything, will you bring it?"
Jan. 18th, 2007 01:03 am (UTC)
"Of course, bel," Gabe answered, reaching out to caress Jeannot's cheek and giving him a genuine smile he hoped was as comforting as he meant it to be. "I'll be right back," he said, and gave his love a soft kiss before pulling away. "I'll only be a moment." With that he turned and left, not bothering to put on his shirt and only just barely remembering to button up the front of his pants. He gave Jeannot a smile over his shoulder as he opened the door and shut it softly behind him before starting down the stairs.
Jan. 18th, 2007 01:31 am (UTC)
Jeannot wrapped his arms around himself when Gabe left the room, missing his lover's presence already. He looked around, hoping to find something to occupy his attention while he waited, but the room was bare, except for the cot that they had carried up. He sighed and crossed the short distance to the bed, sitting down on the edge carefully, afraid that it might collapse. Satisfied that it was sturdier than it looked, Jeannot moved into the center of the bed and drew up his legs, hugging his knees to his chest so he didn't feel quite so alone.

He took a deep breath to calm himself, and leaned his head against his knees. He sternly told himself not to be a child, and not to be a fool, but he couldn't help missing Gabe fiercely, though his reason told him that his lover was only a few steps away and would be back in his arms soon.
Jan. 18th, 2007 03:51 am (UTC)
About halfway down the stairs Gabe paused, looking over his shoulder at the door behind which lay the room where he'd be living for however long they were to be wherever the hell they were. He wondered if he should've left Jeannot there, naked and vulnerable, when it was so clear he wanted Gabe to stay, even though he wouldn't say so. They would have to make the bed eventually, though, and perhaps it had been best of him to tear himself away now, and either way he was already half way to the closet, so he continued down the stairs, going a little faster than before.

((Siiiigerson? Where are your boys?))
Jan. 18th, 2007 04:02 am (UTC)
((Ack! Sigerson fails! He is sorry!))

As he reached the bottom of the stairs, Gabe was reached by the sounds of an argument. It was one connected in soft, almost affectionate voices, though.

"If you hadn't wanted me to come, you had only to say so," Watson said.

"Of course I wanted you here - and not for any selfish reason - for your well being -"

"Don't bother with the charade. You don't want me to help, I don't want to help, I fail to see why we are arguing." There was a short, painful silence, and then Watson's voice hissed furiously, "Don't touch me!. . .No, I mean that!"

Gabe was greeted with the sight of a hopeless looking Holmes, his hand just tracing Watson's jawline, frantically suspended in motion, looking caught in the act.
Jan. 18th, 2007 08:07 pm (UTC)
((No, Sigerson wins! [And all signs point to me still having a Sigerson at my beck and call, and that brings joy to my cold and dead heart.]))

Gabe stopped in his dead tracks and considered, for a moment, just turning around and going back up the stairs. It wasn't that he was surprised at what he saw. It was more that he was surprised Holmes had lost it so soon. He'd figured that the Great Detective would have had more willpower. He shook his head, not sure if he disapproved or was proud of Holmes for getting over his Victorianism. "You know what?" he said, finally. "You two go back to whatever you were doing. I need to get bedsheets and then I'll be right out." He shook his head again and started towards the closet.
Jan. 19th, 2007 02:30 am (UTC)
Holmes shoved his hands convulsively into his pockets, an expression of consternation on his face. "I - what -" Wisely, he chose to shut up.

Watson, his face tight with anger, said nothing, but he turned his back.
Jan. 19th, 2007 02:53 am (UTC)
Gabe opened the door to the closet and took a look over his shoulder at Holmes and Watson. He glared at Holmes for a second before giving a very pointed look at Watson's turned back and then walked into the closet, hoping Holmes was smart enough to have gotten the point. The point being, of course, apologize to him, you dolt, if you ever want to get into his pants. He very courteously closed the door most of the way behind him, though not enough that he wasn't able to tell what was going on.
Jan. 19th, 2007 07:47 am (UTC)
What was going on was simply this - two Victorian men glaring at each other, stubbornly refusing to smile, Holmes trying desperately to keep his hands plunged deeply into his pockets.

"You know, Rosenburg," he hissed through his teeth, "nothing interesting is going to happen here. You may return."
Jan. 19th, 2007 09:01 pm (UTC)
Gabe shook his head at the two of them and gave Holmes a glare that said that if something interesting didn't happen soon, he would probably lose his chance. He found a lightswitch inside the closet and flicked it. Though he couldn't see any fixtures or bulbs it got brighter anyway and he shut the door softly, wondering if anything interesting would happen now that he was not there to see it.

((ARGH. The more I think about the Space Between Time they inhabit the more it reminds me of One Ash Tree Lane and it's starting to freak me out.))
Jan. 22nd, 2007 05:25 am (UTC)
Whether or not anything interesting was happening downstairs, Jeannot didn't know, but it was certain that nothing was happening in his and Gabe's room. He sat very still on the bed, doing his best to think of absolutely nothing, as anything at all seemed likely to push him over the edge and into tears again, and he didn't want Gabe to come back and see him crying. Time seemed to pass excruciatingly slowly, though he had nothing to measure it by, and Jeannot shivered -- a bit from cold, but yet more at how silent the room was, how completely alone in the world he might have been. He glanced up at the door hopefully, and then touched his forehead to his knees again, waiting for Gabe to return, trying to stave off the irrational fear that he had lost his love again.
Jan. 23rd, 2007 11:56 pm (UTC)
Gabe glanced around the closet, looking for any of the things he needed. He spotted bed fixings and took them down, placing them in a pile by his feet. A few shelves above him he saw what looked to be a sketchbook and stepped up onto the first shelf, one hand gripping tightly to a higher shelf to keep him from falling backwards. He reached out blindly and grabbed onto the spiral edge of the sketchbook, taking it off the shelf and tossing it to the floor before hopping back down himself. He grabbed a pencil and tossed it into the bundle of linens. He picked it up and walked over to the door, which he knocked rather sharply upon. "I'm coming out," he said, not intending a pun, I swear, "so if you two want to rush hurriedly away from each other and just stare awkwardly, now's the time."
Jan. 24th, 2007 01:54 am (UTC)
"That won't be necessary," Holmes called out. "Really, Rosenburg, you vastly overestimate me."

Watson made a small, strangled sound, and Holmes seemed to laugh, proving once more that his sense of humor is twisted beyond compare.
Jan. 24th, 2007 02:10 am (UTC)
Gabe shook his head and exited the closet, switching off the light as he did. "And you, Holmes," he said, looking at the other man, slightly dismayed, "disappoint me." He paused for a moment and then yawned. "I'm off to bed, I think," he said, gesturing towards the stairs with his hands full of linens. "If you boys need anything I'm sure it's in the closet. Have fun." He sighed, slightly more tired than he would have liked, and started upstairs.
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holmes, oscar, byron, nineteenth century
The Byronic Cravat

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