Written to a mix of Bonnie Raitt's Can't Make You Love Me and Vienna Teng, with a good number of repeats on Homecoming. From the prompt's quote, I looked up the source lyrics, and let that guide me.
*
Erik picks up the phone on its second ring, after tripping on a stack of phonebooks he means to use to prop up the crooked kitchen table.
“Hello?” He holds the phone with right hand, and rubs out the ball of his foot, still smarting, with his other.
There’s a pause on the line for the space of a breath, and then, Erik.
Erik’s world shifts to this telephone pressed against his cheek, the cord connecting to him to whatever distant place Charles is in now.
“Charles,” he says back. He can’t imagine what his voice sounds like. He lets Charles read whatever he wants into it. Civility, longing, love, disappointment, it’s probably all true. Erik doesn’t like to let himself think too much on Charles now that the house is empty; he just recognizes the other man’s absence, wishes for his presence to fill it once more, and leaves it at that.
And yet he still can’t stop himself from asking, “Are you coming home?”
Erik, and it’s in that voice Erik knows means Charles is trying to convey something in just that. A lot of the times it’s enough. Erik can stop his carving, put down the rasp and half-shaped wood and know. Sometimes it’s just making tea (Erik’s learned how long to steep it, how hot to boil the water. He looks to the cabinet where he keeps the Wedgewood set, a gift, dust free.), and sometimes it’s convincing Charles to stop his research and come sit on the couch. He flexes his fingers, half-expecting Charles’s fingers to lace up with his, and his chin pressing against his shoulder. Erik doesn’t know what that voice means now that Charles isn’t next to him.
“Just say what you mean Charles. You know I can’t read your mind.” Erik imagines Charles smile at that. Charles had always tried to get Erik to be more communicative, and in the end, it was Charles who couldn’t articulate whatever it was, and left.
Charles pauses again on his end. The fight for you is all I’ve known, he begins. And then I had you, and it was all so beautiful I couldn’t believe it. Do you know how long it took for me just to convince you to go to lunch outside of that café? And then we were dragging our mix-matched furniture together and figuring out how to make a house.
Erik rests the receiver between his chin and shoulder, and loops the cord around his finger as he leans against the wall. The paint is cool against his temple and the spot above his hip where his shirt pulls up. “I know. It wasn’t easy for me either. But you know that. I just didn’t know it was hard for you.”
I’m sorry.
Erik closes his eyes. “I miss you, but I’m doing ok.” He opens them again, and looks at the hour on the clock. “Are you?”
No. Not really.
“Charles… even if…” Erik lets the words out, “even if we’re not together anymore, I’m still there for you, ok?”
An inhale. That’s not… I’m coming home ok? I… …we can sort myself out at home. The words come quickly tumbling out, and Erik hopes. With tea, and those silly documentaries you like with terrible narration.
“Ok. I’m glad.” He wants to let Charles know that if he needs more time, he has it. The commitment Erik made to this relationship isn’t going to fade like a rainbow after the rain. Perhaps, one day it might, but Erik has much left in him yet. But Erik trusts Charles knows what’s best for himself, and he’s glad Charles thinks its back here, by his side.
“Get some sleep.”
Can’t. Catching the Red Eye.
“Charles, are you calling me from an airport?”
Maybe. Erik can hear the cheeky smile, It’s the quickest way back to you.
“At least eat something. Not take-out. Something that’ll stick with you; you know air-line food is shit.”
Charles laughs, and despite the distance, it still makes Erik smile in turn. I’ll do my best. I’ll even order it extra rare for you.
“Go eat now, you can talk to me when you come home.”
fill: transcontinental, 1:30am (don't let this line go slack) 1a/1b
Written to a mix of Bonnie Raitt's Can't Make You Love Me and Vienna Teng, with a good number of repeats on Homecoming. From the prompt's quote, I looked up the source lyrics, and let that guide me.
*
Erik picks up the phone on its second ring, after tripping on a stack of phonebooks he means to use to prop up the crooked kitchen table.
“Hello?” He holds the phone with right hand, and rubs out the ball of his foot, still smarting, with his other.
There’s a pause on the line for the space of a breath, and then, Erik.
Erik’s world shifts to this telephone pressed against his cheek, the cord connecting to him to whatever distant place Charles is in now.
“Charles,” he says back. He can’t imagine what his voice sounds like. He lets Charles read whatever he wants into it. Civility, longing, love, disappointment, it’s probably all true. Erik doesn’t like to let himself think too much on Charles now that the house is empty; he just recognizes the other man’s absence, wishes for his presence to fill it once more, and leaves it at that.
And yet he still can’t stop himself from asking, “Are you coming home?”
Erik, and it’s in that voice Erik knows means Charles is trying to convey something in just that. A lot of the times it’s enough. Erik can stop his carving, put down the rasp and half-shaped wood and know. Sometimes it’s just making tea (Erik’s learned how long to steep it, how hot to boil the water. He looks to the cabinet where he keeps the Wedgewood set, a gift, dust free.), and sometimes it’s convincing Charles to stop his research and come sit on the couch. He flexes his fingers, half-expecting Charles’s fingers to lace up with his, and his chin pressing against his shoulder. Erik doesn’t know what that voice means now that Charles isn’t next to him.
“Just say what you mean Charles. You know I can’t read your mind.” Erik imagines Charles smile at that. Charles had always tried to get Erik to be more communicative, and in the end, it was Charles who couldn’t articulate whatever it was, and left.
Charles pauses again on his end. The fight for you is all I’ve known, he begins. And then I had you, and it was all so beautiful I couldn’t believe it. Do you know how long it took for me just to convince you to go to lunch outside of that café? And then we were dragging our mix-matched furniture together and figuring out how to make a house.
Erik rests the receiver between his chin and shoulder, and loops the cord around his finger as he leans against the wall. The paint is cool against his temple and the spot above his hip where his shirt pulls up. “I know. It wasn’t easy for me either. But you know that. I just didn’t know it was hard for you.”
I’m sorry.
Erik closes his eyes. “I miss you, but I’m doing ok.” He opens them again, and looks at the hour on the clock. “Are you?”
No. Not really.
“Charles… even if…” Erik lets the words out, “even if we’re not together anymore, I’m still there for you, ok?”
An inhale. That’s not… I’m coming home ok? I… …we can sort myself out at home. The words come quickly tumbling out, and Erik hopes. With tea, and those silly documentaries you like with terrible narration.
“Ok. I’m glad.” He wants to let Charles know that if he needs more time, he has it. The commitment Erik made to this relationship isn’t going to fade like a rainbow after the rain. Perhaps, one day it might, but Erik has much left in him yet. But Erik trusts Charles knows what’s best for himself, and he’s glad Charles thinks its back here, by his side.
“Get some sleep.”
Can’t. Catching the Red Eye.
“Charles, are you calling me from an airport?”
Maybe. Erik can hear the cheeky smile, It’s the quickest way back to you.
“At least eat something. Not take-out. Something that’ll stick with you; you know air-line food is shit.”
Charles laughs, and despite the distance, it still makes Erik smile in turn. I’ll do my best. I’ll even order it extra rare for you.
“Go eat now, you can talk to me when you come home.”
Fine, fine.
“Safe flight, Charles. Come home soon.”
I will. I love you.