bloodyrockgod: (angst by mediocrechick)
[ooc: Post getting rid of Simon and recovery.]

The funny part is, he knows he should know he's dreaming.

He's walking down the aisle at the church in Manchester, a schoolboy again, an alter boy, and the priest is saying St. Sebastian brought food and comfort to imprisioned Christians during Diocletian's reign . . . and there's a portrait of St. Sebastian, pierced with a hundred arrows, on the wall. Charlie looks away.

Look! the priest orders and his voice sounds like Charlie's father's. You have to look!

Don't want to, Charlie protests but looks anyway, and the portrait is terrifying--the artist took great glee in portraying the saint's pain, and the arrows keep on flying and flying and Charlie exclaims I know that face! and he tries to climb up the wall and the priest--or his father dressed as a priest--says That's what you get, that's what you get, that's what you get over and over--

And then there's no more church and no more priest, but there's still St. Sebastian tied to a tree.

Only it's a tree in the forest of Milliways and it's not the saint, it's Darien, and his blood is silvery as it runs down his skin. And Charlie babbles I'll help you, I'll untie you and Darien whispers save me and the arrows never stop coming, never stop piercing him, and there's so much blood.

And his father says you can't save him, Charlie and Charlie's weeping and his hands are fumbling at the knots and Darien's dying and the arrows never stop.

Give up, Charlie, you've never saved anyone says his father and Charlie shakes him and shakes him and shakes him--only it's not his father anymore, it's Charlie, Charlie with silver eyes--

--and then he's awake.

In Darien's apartment, in his sweatpants, his hands wrapped around the edges of Darien's mirror. His body is dripping with sweat and it takes him a moment to realize that it's only his reflection.

He lets go of the mirror and sinks down to the floor a moment, and wipes his face with shaking hands.

When he's got his breath back he makes his way to Darien's bed and crawls beneath the sheets, wrapping himself around Darien's warm body.

Only after he's checked Darien for wounds can he relax enough to sleep.
bloodyrockgod: (body is a wonderland)
Clothing appears in silvery piles on the bedroom floor and there's the soft sound of laughter. Pasta can wait.

"Bed's that way," says Charlie from nowhere.


[ooc: blah blah blah boysmutcakes.]
bloodyrockgod: (guitar by blimey_icons)
Charlie has both his guitars out on the bed, as well as his excercise book for beginning guitar. He's tuning the Gibson, eyes closed.

"Dar?" he calls. "Ready when you are."
bloodyrockgod: (body is a wonderland)
[ooc: millitimed to morning. boysmut. YAYPR0N!]

Mornings are becoming Charlie's favorite time of day.

He wakes up slowly, warm to his bones, his nose pressed to Darien's back. He moves his lips slowly across Darien's shoulders and kisses his arm. "Y'awake?"

[livejournal.com profile] otherways

Jan. 15th, 2006 05:01 pm
bloodyrockgod: (precious)
The hammock is still swaying back and forth, and Charlie clings to Gretchen, gasping for breath.

His patience has been rewarded. Give him a few mintues for his brain to start working again.
bloodyrockgod: (bw sex by apoetneedspain)
It's never goodbye sex.

It's "don't forget me" sex. "Believe I need you" sex. "You matter to me" sex.

"Make me glad I'm alive" sex.


[ooc: yup. smut.]
bloodyrockgod: (precious)
Clothing abuse is a terrible thing. Buttons flying, collars tearing, shirts and jeans crumpled in piles on the floor--it's a disgrace.

But sometimes a bloke just wants to get his lover naked, you know?


[ooc: boysmut. yuppers.]
bloodyrockgod: (addicted by apoetneedspain)
Charlie and Faith come into his suite, arms around each other and still smooching and nuzzling. Guitarist sex is lovely. Slayer sex is lovely.

The two together? Quite lovely indeed.


[ooc: do I even need to say this? expect sex.]
bloodyrockgod: (sex by apoetneedspain)
The suite is still a suite, though Charlie's been thinking about converting it back to a single room. But maybe he'll want a roommate . . .

Or have a room available for Seth while Charlie entertains elsewhere.

He hsuts the door behind Claire and smiles at her as he puts his guitar away. "Is he sleepy?"


[ooc: canon happens. adult content.]
bloodyrockgod: (suffering for his art)
[ooc: post ninja mistletoe]

Charlie restrained himself as long as he could: as soon as the door was shut he pushes David against it and kisses him, hands running up and down his sides and his heart hammering in his chest.

As sudden as the kiss is, it ends--Charlie pulls himself away, looking horrified at himself. "Oh, god, David--I'm sorry--I shouldn't--"
bloodyrockgod: (Default)
They run upstairs laughing, hand in hand, and Charlie throws himself on to the bed as soon as the door is open. He holds out his arms to Loki.

"C'mere," he growls.
bloodyrockgod: (Default)
[ooc: post this]

He puts the ice cream on the nightstand and barely has time to say "That's for later" when David's mouth is on his again. "Oh, hello," Charlie murmurs, laughing into his kiss, and he slides his chilled hand inside David's shirt. He grins when David shivers.

"Do you know what I want to do with you?" he whispers. "Everything."
bloodyrockgod: (o-face by lionessfreedom)
[ooc: post this]

Charlie lets David into the room and closes the door behind them. He puts the bass carefully in the corner, propped up against the wall. Someone--the Oompa-Loompas, for all he knows--has laundered his old shirt and sweatshirt and left them folded on the bed. Beyond this, there is nothing to say this room is his.

When they were touring he'd try to do something in every hotel room to make it homey: scarves on the lamps, pictures stuck to the mirrors, a shrine during his Buddhist phase. He's done nothing here.

"I haven't spent much time here," he says. "Mostly I've been down in the bar or with Bartleby. So he could watch over me," he adds hastily--he doesn't want David to think things happened that didn't. "So he could help me."

He'd make a joke about it not being much but it's home, but it's not even that. It's just a room that meant nothing until David stepped inside.

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Charlie Pace

July 2007

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