In his mind, Toronto had taken on the aspect of some place he used to know a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. He'd tried talking to Andrew about it once, but so much of Andrew's fears and nightmares had been formed there that the few memories he had left himself with were scattered and ill-formed.
So he talked to Stan about it instead. Someone had to remember. Otherwise, all you had was the vague sense that white was all there was and all there ever could be.
"...and then there was that summer, and it was so hot, and I wanted to go down to the lake, but Andrew couldn't leave the house, so we lined the kitchen with garbage bags and made our own lake. Do you remember, Stan? You used to swim laps."
If he still had a body, he would have leapt out of it when a voice spoke inches from his ear. "And one day he swam up the leg of your swimming trunks and you tore the plastic and the living room flooded."
Dave blew his hair off his face. Hands. Why couldn't they have left each other hands? "You remember that, huh?"
Andrew's smile was serene. "I only hated away the bad stuff. That...that wasn't bad stuff, Dave."
Dave rolled a little closer. "Andrew? Are you okay? You look a little..."
"I've come to a realization."
Oh shit, Dave thought. He's cracked again and I'm gonna loose my head. I like my head! "What's that, Andrew?" he asked as calmly as possible, getting ready to roll and dodge and hide behind Stan at the first gleam of malice.
"I remember nearly every day you and I lived together. I didn't hate those memories away. And I think I know why."
"Why?" Dave gently bounced his head closer, as Andrew's voice dropped to a mere whisper.
"Because you made me happy, Dave." Andrew smiled, leaned forward, and kissed Dave soundly on the lips before bounding off a seductively as a head with a trailing mane of matted hair could. "And I love you too, man."
Dave reeled and nearly rolled himself over. Love? Love? He blinked, and would have slapped himself if he still had hands. Of all the times to figure weird shit out, it would have to be now. Story of his friggin' life.
Dave rolled himself upright, took a deep breath and bounded after Andrew. They may not have hands, or bodies, or anything. But he was confident they'd figure out something.
Probably involving tongues.
...
*runs and hides behind the turtle - don't kill me, please!*
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Comment Pron or Ph.D? Hmmm, what should we do? NOTHING!
Date: 2006-03-14 11:58 pm (UTC)So he talked to Stan about it instead. Someone had to remember. Otherwise, all you had was the vague sense that white was all there was and all there ever could be.
"...and then there was that summer, and it was so hot, and I wanted to go down to the lake, but Andrew couldn't leave the house, so we lined the kitchen with garbage bags and made our own lake. Do you remember, Stan? You used to swim laps."
If he still had a body, he would have leapt out of it when a voice spoke inches from his ear. "And one day he swam up the leg of your swimming trunks and you tore the plastic and the living room flooded."
Dave blew his hair off his face. Hands. Why couldn't they have left each other hands? "You remember that, huh?"
Andrew's smile was serene. "I only hated away the bad stuff. That...that wasn't bad stuff, Dave."
Dave rolled a little closer. "Andrew? Are you okay? You look a little..."
"I've come to a realization."
Oh shit, Dave thought. He's cracked again and I'm gonna loose my head. I like my head! "What's that, Andrew?" he asked as calmly as possible, getting ready to roll and dodge and hide behind Stan at the first gleam of malice.
"I remember nearly every day you and I lived together. I didn't hate those memories away. And I think I know why."
"Why?" Dave gently bounced his head closer, as Andrew's voice dropped to a mere whisper.
"Because you made me happy, Dave." Andrew smiled, leaned forward, and kissed Dave soundly on the lips before bounding off a seductively as a head with a trailing mane of matted hair could. "And I love you too, man."
Dave reeled and nearly rolled himself over. Love? Love? He blinked, and would have slapped himself if he still had hands. Of all the times to figure weird shit out, it would have to be now. Story of his friggin' life.
Dave rolled himself upright, took a deep breath and bounded after Andrew. They may not have hands, or bodies, or anything. But he was confident they'd figure out something.
Probably involving tongues.
...
*runs and hides behind the turtle - don't kill me, please!*