| themauvedecade ( @ 2008-07-11 10:19:00 |
| Current music: | Wilco - Jesus, Etc. |
| Entry tags: | fandom: the who, john/keith |
The Who: You Were Right About The Stars
More sad!fic from me. Seems like it's all I ever write...
Title: You Were Right About The Stars
Pairing: John/Keith
Rating: PG
Summary: There isn't really much of a story, more like abstract thoughts of John about Keith.
Warnings: Apart from being sad? None.
Author's notes: It's just a little piece to get back into the swing of things, something that just spilled out of me after I got up this morning. I know the perspective isn't that popular, but it seemed to work for this one. Oh, and you should definitely listen to 'Jesus, Etc.' by Wilco because it's where I filched the idea and it's a great song.
Disclaimer: Neither did this happen nor do I own anything.
“The stars,” he said while you held him close, both your gazes directed at the nightly sky, “they’re nothing but burning suns. Just like us...”
You chuckled about it then, dismissed it as one of the silly ideas that sometimes seemed to come to him out of the blue.
But you understand now.
You had laughed at Pete and his mystical beliefs of the one note that was inherent in every being, but secretly you doubt your own derision. Music has always been the one constant in your life.
You know about its power. It just makes too much sense.
When you are with him, there is this whole melody between you. Something you wish you could grasp and write down, tame and condense in little scratches on paper.
But it is so much bigger than you. Despite all your abilities, you would never be able to echo it.
The melody is broken now.
You look at Pete beside you and know he is fuming. Roger has gone off to who-knows-where, you don’t really care.
What you care about is that little figure at the other end of the terminal, bouncing about, laughing with that scary laugh that hurts your eyes and heart, that makes you want to cringe and bury your head in Pete’s shoulder so you don’t have to see. Don’t have to see this side of him. The side that hurts you.
But grown men don’t hide like little boys.
He is a burning sun. He shines at everyone around him, brings them warmth and joy.
But he is burning.
You would give your life to stop the consumption of the man you love.
He hasn’t always been burning this brightly. You remember.
And sometimes he still cools down enough for you to touch him.
Then you find the melody unchanged, accompanying you while you make love.
Accompanying you when he rests in your arms afterwards, silvery lines of tears running down his cheeks, thick like the strings of your bass.
He is a burning sun. And he knows it.
And like a burning sun he can’t stop. No one can stop him it seems.
You dread the day the consumption will be complete.
All you can do is to be there. All the way until it happens.
Love him until he goes out like a star in the sky.