Words by micehell ('Last' challenge)
Nov. 2nd, 2005 10:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
micehell posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
numb3rsflashficTitle: Words
Pairing/Characters: Larry/Charlie
Rating/Category: G / drama ficlet
Word Count: 441
Spoilers: none
Summary: Larry has the last words
Notes/Warnings: none
"The last thing I said to my mother was 'I'll be in the garage. I'll see you later.'"
Charlie was standing in the doorway, half in and half out, as if unsure of which he wanted.
Anger still burned in Larry, sharp and hot, but he'd never built up any immunity to that wistful tone, so he didn't ask Charlie to leave again. However, the most relevant thing he could think to reply was, "I..."
He wasn't allowed to finish, even if he'd known what he was going to say, Charlie staring at him with that unnerving, wonderful intensity, swallowing hard before he said, "I don't want my last words to you to be something pointless. Or something said in anger."
Larry sighed, feeling some of the anger dampen. Almost two years later and the fear still haunted Charlie. For someone whose mind could assimilate new information so quickly, Charlie himself was painfully resistant to change. Not that Larry was inordinately fond of it.
The need to comfort wound through his anger, an uneasy coexistence. "I'm not going anywhere, Charles." Spare comfort, all he had to offer.
Charlie shook his head, curls flying with the force of his denial. "You are." His voice was rising, the timbre cracking. "We all are. You said it yourself."
He had said that, in different ways at different times. Charlie's intellect might help bridge the difference in their ages in conversation, and not always then, but Larry was still older, the gap far too large to ignore, no matter what they might wish.
"Well, yes, however, considering the empirical data we have to work with, and this is really more your field than mine, but I'd have to say, statistically speaking, I'm not going anywhere soon." It was muddled, but emotions were clouding his responses, and, if he were being honest, Larry wasn't always strictly coherent even at the best of times.
Charlie stared at him intently for a moment, as if Larry were P vs. NP in the flesh, but then he nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "I'm holding you to that."
Larry sagged, wanting an end to the evening, needing some sleep before he could deal with the tidal pull of Charlie's orbit again. "I will endeavor to do my best, Charles."
Wavering in the doorway, on the verge of leaving, Charlie looked back. "I'm still mad at you. But I wanted... I just wanted..." He trailed off, a slight blush staining his cheeks. "I love you."
And then he was gone, the rapid squeak, squeak of his sneakers covering up Larry's "And I you, Charles. And I you."
Pairing/Characters: Larry/Charlie
Rating/Category: G / drama ficlet
Word Count: 441
Spoilers: none
Summary: Larry has the last words
Notes/Warnings: none
"The last thing I said to my mother was 'I'll be in the garage. I'll see you later.'"
Charlie was standing in the doorway, half in and half out, as if unsure of which he wanted.
Anger still burned in Larry, sharp and hot, but he'd never built up any immunity to that wistful tone, so he didn't ask Charlie to leave again. However, the most relevant thing he could think to reply was, "I..."
He wasn't allowed to finish, even if he'd known what he was going to say, Charlie staring at him with that unnerving, wonderful intensity, swallowing hard before he said, "I don't want my last words to you to be something pointless. Or something said in anger."
Larry sighed, feeling some of the anger dampen. Almost two years later and the fear still haunted Charlie. For someone whose mind could assimilate new information so quickly, Charlie himself was painfully resistant to change. Not that Larry was inordinately fond of it.
The need to comfort wound through his anger, an uneasy coexistence. "I'm not going anywhere, Charles." Spare comfort, all he had to offer.
Charlie shook his head, curls flying with the force of his denial. "You are." His voice was rising, the timbre cracking. "We all are. You said it yourself."
He had said that, in different ways at different times. Charlie's intellect might help bridge the difference in their ages in conversation, and not always then, but Larry was still older, the gap far too large to ignore, no matter what they might wish.
"Well, yes, however, considering the empirical data we have to work with, and this is really more your field than mine, but I'd have to say, statistically speaking, I'm not going anywhere soon." It was muddled, but emotions were clouding his responses, and, if he were being honest, Larry wasn't always strictly coherent even at the best of times.
Charlie stared at him intently for a moment, as if Larry were P vs. NP in the flesh, but then he nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "I'm holding you to that."
Larry sagged, wanting an end to the evening, needing some sleep before he could deal with the tidal pull of Charlie's orbit again. "I will endeavor to do my best, Charles."
Wavering in the doorway, on the verge of leaving, Charlie looked back. "I'm still mad at you. But I wanted... I just wanted..." He trailed off, a slight blush staining his cheeks. "I love you."
And then he was gone, the rapid squeak, squeak of his sneakers covering up Larry's "And I you, Charles. And I you."
