summer_skin (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
summer_skin) wrote2005-11-18 01:59 am
summer_skin) wrote2005-11-18 01:59 am
Entry tags:
QaF RPS: Five 8/8 - April
I did work on my paper today so I can post this guilt free.
Here it is. After months and months and so much writer's block over this damn final part- it's here. I lied- there is no epilogue. I had the end planned out since the very beginning, way back about a year ago, when I first conceived the idea and then kept it tucked away deep inside my twisted little mind because RPF/S was dirtybadwrong. But then when it came time to write this final chapter the boys were very stubborn in letting me have the ending that I'd planned on. This is it for the most part, just without the epilogue.
I might have something else planned in this universe, dealing with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
fanfic100, if they ever pan out. I'll have to see. This part also fulfills one of my prompts, hours.
Title: Five: April
Pairing: Randy/Gale
Rating: 14A
Disclaimer: I don't know Randy or Gale. I've never seen filming. Gale's straight, Randy's gay. I'm going to hell. Let's dance!
Summary: "So this is where it ends?" Gale asked, looking around the room.
"Guess so. Not quite where we expected, hmm?"
Gale snorted. "Not in the least."
A/N: This is rather bittersweet. This is actually the first fic I've finished in any seriousness (AOI ending, notwithstanding). This was a fic that I struggled with from the very beginning but I've been proud of each and every single part. I love this series and I always will, even though it seemed like the boys were constantly in a state of angst. But it's done and I'm happy with it.![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
quackaddict got the first crack at it and didn't say anything was horribly misspelled or out of place so thanks to her.
Previous Parts
September
October
November
December
January
February
March
April Mini-Soundtrack
PJ Harvey- Sweeter than Anything
Snow Patrol- Chocolate
Death Cab for Cutie- Brothers on a Hotel Bed
The party ended quietly with people hugging and a few tears shed. Randy had hung back and watched and waited for the opportune moment to slip out the side door and go back home. Well, to his apartment. After tomorrow New York was well and truly home again and that was how it would end.
Gale and Kim had steered clear of him, staying across the room talking and laughing with other people who alternated between he and Randy as if sensing the forced separation. Randy was sure that some of that had to do with Kim and the way she kept her arm wrapped around Gale's waist or arm all night. He never thought the day would have come that a heterosexual woman would feel threatened by him. But then he had never thought that a supposedly heterosexual man would become his illicit lover for almost five years.
He needed to get out of there, fast.
He found his moment and nearly fled, not bothering to say goodbye to anyone because for him it was all over and done with and he never had to think of it again. He'd force himself not to, if only to keep his sanity once back in New York and without steady employment. Or steady Gale. Which, when he thought about it was somewhat of an oxymoron because when was Gale ever steady?
He shook his head as he walked and laughed to himself, a hollow sound that didn't even carry in the chilly April night air.
He set about packing when he got to the apartment, because sitting still or trying to sleep left him with too much time on his hands to think up reasons to call Gale just to hear his voice on the answering machine. And that was much too stalkery and creepy for Randy even in his most obtuse moments.
He packed and cleaned and threw out things that he hadn't even realized he'd kept over the years. He found pictures and notes from other cast mates, gifts and mementoes from holidays and birthdays past. It really hit him then, everything that was ending and changing and never going to be the same. He realized everything that he was giving up and letting slip away, and epiphany of how his life was going to be after tomorrow. A hysteric mental temper-tantrum over never fully having what he'd been given in this past five years was about to ensue and he hated the unsteady feeling within himself.
And then the doorbell rang.
Randy glanced at the clock, 3:23am. Almost three hours after he'd left the goodbye party and he thought it was all over. He'd thought wrong, obviously.
He opened the door without bothering to check who it was because he knew there was only one person it could be.
"Does Kim know you're here?" Randy asked, leaning his head against the door.
"She does," Gale nodded. "She doesn't understand."
I'm not sure I do, either, Randy thought and stepped back to let Gale in, closing the door behind him.
"It's late," he said instead as he turned around.
"It's not like you're asleep," Gale nodded to the lights blazing in the living room, empty and half-full boxes strewn about in the mess of packing.
"But I could have been," Randy insisted.
"Stop being so difficult," Gale said easily and let himself further into the apartment. He shrugged off his jacket and threw it over a random chair, uncaring when it slid to the floor. He took a seat on the couch, shoving a pile of books and papers to the side. Randy sighed, resignedly, and followed him, taking a seat beside him.
"So this is where it ends?" Gale asked, looking around the room.
"Guess so. Not quite where we expected, hmm?"
Gale snorted. "Not in the least." He reached into his shirt pocket and produced two joints, holding them up for Randy to see. "One last time?"
"I won't get my damage deposit back if it smells like pot in here," Randy half-protested tiredly.
"Get the ashtray," Gale told him anyway, lighting one of the joints up. Randy sighed again and went to find a clean one, turning off the bright overhead lights in favour of a couple table lamps. It reminded him of that night in November when all this started again, or continued, or finally finished- he wasn't sure which and he wasn't in any state of mind to debate with himself right now.
"When are the movers coming?" Gale asked, exhaling loudly.
Randy sat back down, passing him the ashtray, half-full of cigarette butts. "Friday morning. My plane leaves that afternoon."
"What if the movers aren't done?"
Randy shrugged. "Let them burn all the stuff, I don't care."
"You do too. Or else you wouldn't be up this late looking at those fucking photos," Gale poked at a stack of pictures that Randy had unearthed from one of his bookshelves. He passed the joint to Randy and reached down to grab them. "Oh man, these are old."
"First season," Randy nodded, inhaling.
"Five years seemed like such a long fucking time. And I look old now," Gale said, squinting at one of the photos.
"You do not," Randy smacked him lightly on the arm. "Let me see."
Gale passed him the photo, them on the set filming on the of the loft scenes or in between takes, he couldn't remember now. But Gale was looking over at him in the photo as he sat on Brian's bed, grinning like a mad man. He felt old at that very moment, wondering where that man had gone to, when he had become so pessimistic and bitter. Was he bitter? Or just tired of all this running around? Why was Gale looking at him like that in the photo? Why didn't he ever look at him the same way now?
He jerked his head up and met Gale's eyes, his heart jerking painfully in a way he hadn't remembered feeling in over a year, the last time he'd tried to say goodbye to this thing between them. Told Gale to stay away so it would make this night that much easier.
"I know," Gale whispered.
Randy nodded and looked down at the joint burning away in his fingers. He inhaled again, once and twice before passing it back.
Gale expertly held it as he continued to flip through the pictures, pointing out what he remembered about certain ones, asking about others and nearly pissing himself laughing over others. Times and places and events and people that had come and gone, some more memorable than others, some more fun and some more frustratingly hard or angry or sad or disappointing than others. They passed the joint, that became joints, back and forth with the pictures as they tried to remember who this was or what scene that photo was taken in or what the fuck they were wearing because holy hell it was ugly.
They came across a photo that was taken of the two of them, between takes during a scene in season one or two, neither could remember at that very instant. They were laughing at something, wrapped up in each other and oblivious to the camera but somehow someone had managed to snap that exact feeling of ... whatever they were. Happy, daring, together. Randy desperately wished that he could remember every single moment that he'd ever shared with Gale but then he realized that it was the pot making him think that and he started giggling.
"The pot is making me maudlin," he snorted to Gale.
"Please, you're maudlin without the drugs. Always so goddamn serious," Gale told him, poking him in the arm. Randy grabbed his finger and held it tight.
"And this isn't serious business?" He asked, laughing as Gale tried to pull away.
"Clearly not, because you're finding it pretty damn funny."
"It's not," Randy insisted. "It's almost tragic. Two lovers, forced apart by society and current lovers and their own goddamn morals. It's like a Victorian romance novel." Randy started cackling, nearly taking a header into Gale's side. "It's so fucking tragic!"
Gale ran a hand through Randy's hair and smiled. "Yeah, it is, isn't it?"
He waited until Randy calmed down and carefully lifted his chin to look into his eyes. Randy was completely sober now, waiting for the final bomb.
"It doesn't have to be like-"
"Yes, it does, Gale. You know that," Randy replied softly, pulling Gale's hand away from his face. He held it briefly before letting go, looking down at his lap.
"Yeah," Gale nodded.
Randy felt a shudder run through him and he realized how totally drained he felt right then, worn out from it all.
"I should go," Gale told him suddenly, moving the photos and the ashtray to the coffee table. Randy scrubbed a hand through his hair and stood up, his arms dangling limply at his sides. Gale grabbed his coat from where it had fallen as they walked slowly to the door. They paused, looking at each other, unsure of what to say, but then Gale leaned down and Randy let his eyes drift closed.
Gale's lips brushed his with the barest of touches and it was exactly like the last five years of kisses. All Gale- warm and rough and musky and so full. No blinding revelations or sudden understanding of what was actually to happen. Just the same as always, a resignation to what must happen, not what they wanted to happen. The only freedom was the kiss itself, but that was shorter than usual, less intimate and it left Randy feeling bereft. He knew he'd be feeling it like a chill up his spine for a time to come.
"The premiere?" Randy asked quietly when they stepped fully apart.
Gale shook his head. "Kim has ... a thing."
Randy crossed his arms, hugging them around himself. "So this is it."
"For awhile," Gale told him lightly.
"This is it," Randy said firmly, as firmly as his own conviction would allow. This time Gale nodded and he took a step back, twisting his coat in his hands.
Randy reached around him, careful not to even brush his arm, and opened the door. Gale stepped out backwards, his eyes on Randy.
"If... if things ever change... you know," Randy offered haltingly.
Gale nodded, understanding, and smiled. That shaggy, gorgeous smile. In a blink he was gone and Randy didn't even hear the stairwell door close behind him.
He walked slowly back to the living room and sat back down on the couch. He waited, he wasn't sure for what, but it was probably a knock at the door or for Gale to come barging back in demanding that he stay in Toronto or a phone call... But nothing came.
He looked down at the stack of photos they'd looked at last and noticed that the top one, the one of them together, was gone. Randy sat back and sighed.
It was finally over.
Thank Yous: Withoutquackaddict's initial go-ahead on this whole venture none of this would have seen the light of day, likely, at least not under this user name. She's listened to me bitch about the boys more than once and will likely hear it again and again and again... I'm giving my Assmonger all the sloppy prolapsed anus kisses a girl can handle.
To the ladies offcukityfcuk, thank you for just being around, especially lucie_inthesky because she constantly reminded me to write, write, write.
To the few people who beta'd for me-quackaddict, again, kantayra and jenepherre- thank you for pointing out all those weird, awkward sentences and helping me with the him/his/he bits.
To everyone who left me a review on this- THANK YOU. You have no idea what it means to me to see the comments to this fic and how they kept me writing.
Here it is. After months and months and so much writer's block over this damn final part- it's here. I lied- there is no epilogue. I had the end planned out since the very beginning, way back about a year ago, when I first conceived the idea and then kept it tucked away deep inside my twisted little mind because RPF/S was dirtybadwrong. But then when it came time to write this final chapter the boys were very stubborn in letting me have the ending that I'd planned on. This is it for the most part, just without the epilogue.
I might have something else planned in this universe, dealing with
fanfic100, if they ever pan out. I'll have to see. This part also fulfills one of my prompts, hours.Title: Five: April
Pairing: Randy/Gale
Rating: 14A
Disclaimer: I don't know Randy or Gale. I've never seen filming. Gale's straight, Randy's gay. I'm going to hell. Let's dance!
Summary: "So this is where it ends?" Gale asked, looking around the room.
"Guess so. Not quite where we expected, hmm?"
Gale snorted. "Not in the least."
A/N: This is rather bittersweet. This is actually the first fic I've finished in any seriousness (AOI ending, notwithstanding). This was a fic that I struggled with from the very beginning but I've been proud of each and every single part. I love this series and I always will, even though it seemed like the boys were constantly in a state of angst. But it's done and I'm happy with it.
quackaddict got the first crack at it and didn't say anything was horribly misspelled or out of place so thanks to her.Previous Parts
September
October
November
December
January
February
March
April Mini-Soundtrack
PJ Harvey- Sweeter than Anything
Snow Patrol- Chocolate
Death Cab for Cutie- Brothers on a Hotel Bed
The party ended quietly with people hugging and a few tears shed. Randy had hung back and watched and waited for the opportune moment to slip out the side door and go back home. Well, to his apartment. After tomorrow New York was well and truly home again and that was how it would end.
Gale and Kim had steered clear of him, staying across the room talking and laughing with other people who alternated between he and Randy as if sensing the forced separation. Randy was sure that some of that had to do with Kim and the way she kept her arm wrapped around Gale's waist or arm all night. He never thought the day would have come that a heterosexual woman would feel threatened by him. But then he had never thought that a supposedly heterosexual man would become his illicit lover for almost five years.
He needed to get out of there, fast.
He found his moment and nearly fled, not bothering to say goodbye to anyone because for him it was all over and done with and he never had to think of it again. He'd force himself not to, if only to keep his sanity once back in New York and without steady employment. Or steady Gale. Which, when he thought about it was somewhat of an oxymoron because when was Gale ever steady?
He shook his head as he walked and laughed to himself, a hollow sound that didn't even carry in the chilly April night air.
He set about packing when he got to the apartment, because sitting still or trying to sleep left him with too much time on his hands to think up reasons to call Gale just to hear his voice on the answering machine. And that was much too stalkery and creepy for Randy even in his most obtuse moments.
He packed and cleaned and threw out things that he hadn't even realized he'd kept over the years. He found pictures and notes from other cast mates, gifts and mementoes from holidays and birthdays past. It really hit him then, everything that was ending and changing and never going to be the same. He realized everything that he was giving up and letting slip away, and epiphany of how his life was going to be after tomorrow. A hysteric mental temper-tantrum over never fully having what he'd been given in this past five years was about to ensue and he hated the unsteady feeling within himself.
And then the doorbell rang.
Randy glanced at the clock, 3:23am. Almost three hours after he'd left the goodbye party and he thought it was all over. He'd thought wrong, obviously.
He opened the door without bothering to check who it was because he knew there was only one person it could be.
"Does Kim know you're here?" Randy asked, leaning his head against the door.
"She does," Gale nodded. "She doesn't understand."
I'm not sure I do, either, Randy thought and stepped back to let Gale in, closing the door behind him.
"It's late," he said instead as he turned around.
"It's not like you're asleep," Gale nodded to the lights blazing in the living room, empty and half-full boxes strewn about in the mess of packing.
"But I could have been," Randy insisted.
"Stop being so difficult," Gale said easily and let himself further into the apartment. He shrugged off his jacket and threw it over a random chair, uncaring when it slid to the floor. He took a seat on the couch, shoving a pile of books and papers to the side. Randy sighed, resignedly, and followed him, taking a seat beside him.
"So this is where it ends?" Gale asked, looking around the room.
"Guess so. Not quite where we expected, hmm?"
Gale snorted. "Not in the least." He reached into his shirt pocket and produced two joints, holding them up for Randy to see. "One last time?"
"I won't get my damage deposit back if it smells like pot in here," Randy half-protested tiredly.
"Get the ashtray," Gale told him anyway, lighting one of the joints up. Randy sighed again and went to find a clean one, turning off the bright overhead lights in favour of a couple table lamps. It reminded him of that night in November when all this started again, or continued, or finally finished- he wasn't sure which and he wasn't in any state of mind to debate with himself right now.
"When are the movers coming?" Gale asked, exhaling loudly.
Randy sat back down, passing him the ashtray, half-full of cigarette butts. "Friday morning. My plane leaves that afternoon."
"What if the movers aren't done?"
Randy shrugged. "Let them burn all the stuff, I don't care."
"You do too. Or else you wouldn't be up this late looking at those fucking photos," Gale poked at a stack of pictures that Randy had unearthed from one of his bookshelves. He passed the joint to Randy and reached down to grab them. "Oh man, these are old."
"First season," Randy nodded, inhaling.
"Five years seemed like such a long fucking time. And I look old now," Gale said, squinting at one of the photos.
"You do not," Randy smacked him lightly on the arm. "Let me see."
Gale passed him the photo, them on the set filming on the of the loft scenes or in between takes, he couldn't remember now. But Gale was looking over at him in the photo as he sat on Brian's bed, grinning like a mad man. He felt old at that very moment, wondering where that man had gone to, when he had become so pessimistic and bitter. Was he bitter? Or just tired of all this running around? Why was Gale looking at him like that in the photo? Why didn't he ever look at him the same way now?
He jerked his head up and met Gale's eyes, his heart jerking painfully in a way he hadn't remembered feeling in over a year, the last time he'd tried to say goodbye to this thing between them. Told Gale to stay away so it would make this night that much easier.
"I know," Gale whispered.
Randy nodded and looked down at the joint burning away in his fingers. He inhaled again, once and twice before passing it back.
Gale expertly held it as he continued to flip through the pictures, pointing out what he remembered about certain ones, asking about others and nearly pissing himself laughing over others. Times and places and events and people that had come and gone, some more memorable than others, some more fun and some more frustratingly hard or angry or sad or disappointing than others. They passed the joint, that became joints, back and forth with the pictures as they tried to remember who this was or what scene that photo was taken in or what the fuck they were wearing because holy hell it was ugly.
They came across a photo that was taken of the two of them, between takes during a scene in season one or two, neither could remember at that very instant. They were laughing at something, wrapped up in each other and oblivious to the camera but somehow someone had managed to snap that exact feeling of ... whatever they were. Happy, daring, together. Randy desperately wished that he could remember every single moment that he'd ever shared with Gale but then he realized that it was the pot making him think that and he started giggling.
"The pot is making me maudlin," he snorted to Gale.
"Please, you're maudlin without the drugs. Always so goddamn serious," Gale told him, poking him in the arm. Randy grabbed his finger and held it tight.
"And this isn't serious business?" He asked, laughing as Gale tried to pull away.
"Clearly not, because you're finding it pretty damn funny."
"It's not," Randy insisted. "It's almost tragic. Two lovers, forced apart by society and current lovers and their own goddamn morals. It's like a Victorian romance novel." Randy started cackling, nearly taking a header into Gale's side. "It's so fucking tragic!"
Gale ran a hand through Randy's hair and smiled. "Yeah, it is, isn't it?"
He waited until Randy calmed down and carefully lifted his chin to look into his eyes. Randy was completely sober now, waiting for the final bomb.
"It doesn't have to be like-"
"Yes, it does, Gale. You know that," Randy replied softly, pulling Gale's hand away from his face. He held it briefly before letting go, looking down at his lap.
"Yeah," Gale nodded.
Randy felt a shudder run through him and he realized how totally drained he felt right then, worn out from it all.
"I should go," Gale told him suddenly, moving the photos and the ashtray to the coffee table. Randy scrubbed a hand through his hair and stood up, his arms dangling limply at his sides. Gale grabbed his coat from where it had fallen as they walked slowly to the door. They paused, looking at each other, unsure of what to say, but then Gale leaned down and Randy let his eyes drift closed.
Gale's lips brushed his with the barest of touches and it was exactly like the last five years of kisses. All Gale- warm and rough and musky and so full. No blinding revelations or sudden understanding of what was actually to happen. Just the same as always, a resignation to what must happen, not what they wanted to happen. The only freedom was the kiss itself, but that was shorter than usual, less intimate and it left Randy feeling bereft. He knew he'd be feeling it like a chill up his spine for a time to come.
"The premiere?" Randy asked quietly when they stepped fully apart.
Gale shook his head. "Kim has ... a thing."
Randy crossed his arms, hugging them around himself. "So this is it."
"For awhile," Gale told him lightly.
"This is it," Randy said firmly, as firmly as his own conviction would allow. This time Gale nodded and he took a step back, twisting his coat in his hands.
Randy reached around him, careful not to even brush his arm, and opened the door. Gale stepped out backwards, his eyes on Randy.
"If... if things ever change... you know," Randy offered haltingly.
Gale nodded, understanding, and smiled. That shaggy, gorgeous smile. In a blink he was gone and Randy didn't even hear the stairwell door close behind him.
He walked slowly back to the living room and sat back down on the couch. He waited, he wasn't sure for what, but it was probably a knock at the door or for Gale to come barging back in demanding that he stay in Toronto or a phone call... But nothing came.
He looked down at the stack of photos they'd looked at last and noticed that the top one, the one of them together, was gone. Randy sat back and sighed.
It was finally over.
Thank Yous: Without
quackaddict's initial go-ahead on this whole venture none of this would have seen the light of day, likely, at least not under this user name. She's listened to me bitch about the boys more than once and will likely hear it again and again and again... I'm giving my Assmonger all the sloppy prolapsed anus kisses a girl can handle.To the ladies of
fcukityfcuk, thank you for just being around, especially lucie_inthesky because she constantly reminded me to write, write, write.To the few people who beta'd for me-
quackaddict, again, kantayra and jenepherre- thank you for pointing out all those weird, awkward sentences and helping me with the him/his/he bits.To everyone who left me a review on this- THANK YOU. You have no idea what it means to me to see the comments to this fic and how they kept me writing.