Log - Completed

[pastdedication.livejournal.com]

When; Aug 12.
Rating; PG-13 - grown-up language and light homosexual activity.
Characters; Lin (pastdedication) & Gren (notapreacher)
Summary; Lin wakes up handcuffed to the guy who killed him. Hilarity ensues.

Later, Lin will be glad he fell asleep in his clothes. Right now, he curses it. Another wrinkled shirt, and damn if ironing doesn't always get rid of the creases. His belt buckle's digging into his stomach. He shifts. He hears a clink.

Several things he notices at once: The lack of Peter Murphy (he is 100% certain he had fallen asleep with the stereo on, again), the fragrance of shampoo that is vaguely unfamiliar, yet unrecognizable, and the presence of someone else in his bed. Is it a man or a woman? Opening hazy eyes, Lin tries to put together the night before. Is it Havoc? But he would remember something like that, becoming capable of that. Well, he'd remember if it were a man, too, wouldn't he?

With a slight grunt that completely expresses, "It is far too fucking early for this City bullshit, I just want to sleep, goddammit," Lin sits up.

And there's that clinking.

And come to think of it, he would remember being handcuffed to someone, too.

So it's a curse.

Fabulous. Lin loves embarrassing curses.

Comments

[pastdedication.livejournal.com]

Lin notices the absence of weight on his wrist immediately, but says nothing. He sets his cup down only when he's done with it. "It's a little rubbed raw," he notes, rubbing his thumb over the sore spot. The pain is faint, but noticeable. That pleases him. "It'll clear up by tomorrow."

He picks up his cup again, breathes in the steam. "You make good tea."

After finishing the cup, he sets it down. Looks at Gren.

"I don't hate you for killing me. But I've long wondered what sort of person you were - obsessive as I can get about these sort of things."

Carefully, very carefully, he rolls down his sleeves and buttons his shirt over his wifebeater, taming his appearance somewhat.

"For you to give of yourself openly, to trust me and touch me, when you obviously know how what sort of thing's rewarded..."

Now the tie: He unties it, pulls his collar up, straightens the fabric, pulls the collar back down. He speaks as he does the knot in his tie, he could tie it in his sleep. He likes it a little too tight. Not like he needs to breathe, anyhow.

"You're profoundly stupid."

Now he stands up, walks to the bathroom. Finds a comb, stares at it a long moment before using it to straighten out his hair. This is all so much easier to do without a person anchored to you, and besides, he may still be drunk but he doesn't have to look a mess on top of it.

[notapreacher.livejournal.com]

Thank you for the compliment, he thinks but doesn't say as he watches Lin move off as steadily as he can under the circumstances. For his part he'd like his apartment back, thank you very much, so he can have a shower and get out of these things he's wearing and never wants to put on again at this point.

He'll change clothes later. What he's missed most all day long has been his saxophone; while Lin's tidying up he goes and gets it, puts it together with the exception of the mouthpiece. He won't play until Lin's gone, but he needs to perform this small ritual -- cleaning and polishing his sax -- with or without company. Going without it is like going without his right arm and he's already had enough of that for one day.

The bathroom door opens; Lin walks out looking... perfectly put together. Calm, collected, a veritable blank slate. The anger and confusion are gone from his face now; it's as if by redressing he's shut himself down fairly completely and that's a shame. Gren was almost starting to like him.

Sitting at the table, polishing the keys on his sax, he speaks quietly. "Think whatever you like about me; I'm helpless to stop that. But I'm pretty sure you wouldn't really have killed me unless it was on Vicious's orders. If I'm wrong on that then sure, I'm profoundly stupid. You wouldn't be the first one to think so."

Now he glances over at his guest. "And don't flatter yourself that I've given of myself openly today, Lin."

He lets his fingers run over the saxophone's keys. Satisfied, he sets it back in its case on the floor. "You're welcome to stay and drink tea as long as you like. And you're also welcome to come back any time, unless you stop by to kill me. In that case I probably won't be so accommodating."

[pastdedication.livejournal.com]

Before Lin left the bathroom, he slipped Gren's comb into his pocket. Sure, the older man would notice it was missing eventually. But a comb's fairly replaceable. It's a little bit of a habit from childhood left over. Take something small, something without any value. Just to prove to you were there. You got through that night.

"Fair enough. But you've given a lot without hesitance, and that's more than I would expect of anyone in your position." Then again, Lin's not exactly up with those 'normal' people, is he? "You're right. I had no intention of killing you. I'm not a sadist." He wishes he was, though, so he could easily explain his own thoughts. If it wasn't to kill him, what were his intentions?

He's rubbing his wrist absently. It's still weird, walking without the weight. Odd what the body gets used to.

"It wouldn't be prudent for us to see more of each other." Despite those words, he crosses the room to Gren. "I at least have one of the answers I wanted."

Not fond of the sensation of towering over another, Lin crouches in front of where Gren sits. Runs the line of the jaw with fingertips, making sure Gren meets his gaze. "You are suitable. It's a shame that things didn't work out for you two - but then, someone like you, it was doomed to failure."

[notapreacher.livejournal.com]

It's a little shocking when Lin reaches over to stroke his chin: who's the one trusting and touching now? And then he goes on to talk about...

Vicious? That has to be who Lin's talking about and maybe he was right: he has been profoundly stupid. But he gets it now. He sees exactly what's going on here. It's not just a question of Lin's loyalty lying with Vicious.

It's a question of his heart.

No wonder Lin resents him so much. But he never really meant anything to Vicious but an opportunity to get rid of that music box; he was way too easy to frame. How can it be that Lin doesn't understand? Vicious used him on Titan; he used Lin on Callisto. He's still using Lin.

If he could find a way to do it without being entirely heartless, he'd ask Lin if he thinks Vicious really cares... but he won't do that. He knows Vicious doesn't. He also knows Vicious cares enough about him to keep track of his whereabouts, but that's a whole different story from Lin's slavish devotion to Vicious which... he gets now.

What a mess.

"A lot of things are doomed to failure." Reaching up, he cradles Lin's hand before moving it away from his own face. "But I don't know that there's any shame in it. Like I said, you're welcome here any time." Now he lets go of Lin's hand and stands: he's ready to go take care of his wrist, have a shower, brush his hair and his teeth, lock the door, and climb into bed. "What happened here today stays here."

He can carry a secret to the grave.

Now, though, he moves to the door although he doesn't open it yet. "It's been a long day. Get some sleep."

[pastdedication.livejournal.com]

"Sleep. Right."

Lin can't think of any more to say. Easy enough: He says nothing. Walks out, hears the door shut and the lock click behind him, and finds his way back out into the street and to his apartment.