I wake up in a sunbeam, drenched in the new warmth of the morning and the scent of your hair, weighted by the gentle heft of your body in my arms.
I can’t believe you stayed with me all night. After the silent tears subsided and I was finally able to sleep, words of devotion still hanging unspoken on my lips, someone came and draped a blanket over the two of us. Probably Sven. I’m a bit stiff from sitting in one position all night, holding still on the couch so as not to wake you, but I don’t mind.
Coppery sunlight heralds the breaking day, washing the room with a rich hue. Somehow the freshness of the morning air beckons me, and I untangle my limbs to stand up. You whimper and reach out to hold me again, stirring in your sleep, and I smile as I scoop you up, blanket and all, and carry your slumbering form out to the terrace.
I lean against the railing, cradling you to my chest in the lingering chill, and watch the sunrise in silence. I wish I could make you understand that I really do need you, no matter how worthless you think you are. So odd that after all these years of being called the strong one, I’m the one who is weakest, the one who cannot survive without your flyweight resting against my sternum. For what, in the grand scheme of things, is a boy?
To someone like me, that boy is the only consistent link between present, past, and future, three points in time that, every once in a while, lose their meaning for me. Little more than a child, and yet lurking in the impossibly green depths of your eyes lies a past that would reduce most men to shivering tears. Such strength in you, Pidge, you who have been sober for almost eighteen hours and sleep so soundly tucked into the crook of my biceps. You shook slightly last night, but it was nothing compared to the raving fever and fits I experienced when I went through withdrawal.
I know that a sane man would walk away from you and leave you in the gutter after what you’ve done, but we’ve been through too much, my love. Don’t you understand that whenever I see that hint of rosiness in your pale cheeks, I’m immediately transported back to that day I lifted you into my arms as we celebrated our final victory and the end of the war? That was supposed to be the beginning of us, Pidge, not the end. Instead, it marked the start of our tandem spiral into madness. Do we need a war to keep ourselves sane? I certainly hope not; we’re sorry individuals if we do.
Why did we ever let this happen to us? Was victory all that terrifying? I guess, if we drift apart again, that will mean that in many ways, Lotor did defeat us in the end. How sad that he could reach up from the grave and still wreak havoc on our lives.
I look down and, startled, find you awake and staring back up at me with those impossibly green eyes, and for a moment, bathed in the honeyed sunlight and warm in my arms, you’re too much for me to take.
Without stopping to think, I bend down and press my lips to yours. I do it out of pure impulse, more than anything else. I’m not hormonal right now; I’m just loving you so much, you see. You act startled and wriggle out of my arms, drawing your sleeve over your mouth as you back away from me. Realizing what I’ve done, what a stupid shit I am and how I just ruined the rest of our future together, I whirl away and lean against the railing, suddenly nauseous, and furious at myself for always wearing my heart on my sleeve.
I can hear your rapid breathing behind me as you reel from the shock of my kiss, and the world blurs again as tears well up in my eyes.
“I’m sorry, I- I shouldn’t have done that.” I’m blushing furiously, trying to apologize for being such a cad. “I don’t know what came over me, I really didn’t mean it-“
I’m lying, of course. I meant that kiss more than anything, and we both know it.
You speak. “No, it’s not that… I guess I just wasn’t ready, you know.”
“Yeah. I know.”
It takes all my strength to turn and face you, to look into your eyes and not immediately hang my head in shame. But I manage it somehow, and you don’t look angry. Just… more lost than anything else.
“I don’t know when I’ll be ready.”
I manage a faint smile. “I can wait.”
“Stuff is just weird right now.”
“S’ok.”
“Can we… just be friends for a while? I mean, I like you and all, but I just need a little more time.”
I very nearly snort with laughter. As far as you’re concerned, Pidge, we can be ‘just friends’ forever. Just as long as we’re together- I don’t need to be fucking you in order to love you. Not to say it wouldn’t be nice, but to someone such as yourself, who’s had to give his body to so many others just to survive, I can understand how the act has lost its meaning.
“Yeah.”
“Like we were before… before all this…” You wave a hand around in the air. “Before all this shit happened.”
I nod.
“I mean, I know how you feel about me and all, but I’ve got some major fuckin’ issues to deal with right now.”
“You and me both.”
For a moment we stare at each other blankly. A blank slate, your face. Can I start fresh? Can we really begin all over again? Can I go back to before the night we first closed the door on ourselves, take my virginity back from you and give it to you again? Would you accept such a gift twice?
I shrug and decide to change the subject without really skirting the issue at all. “I’ve been thinking about starting a business… I’ve got a little money in the bank. But I’ll need some help getting it off the ground.”
You smile and raise an eyebrow at me, intrigued at the new tactic. “Yeah? What kind of business?”
“A repair shop. Come on, you and I know more about spacecraft than anybody.”
You snicker. “I’ve never worked a day job.”
“I’m serious. I checked this place out back on Arus. It’s on a corner lot, good location and visibility, and it’s got an apartment above. And we’re still citizens, so there’s no labor laws to worry about.”
“How many bedrooms?”
I fold my arms across my chest and grin.
“Two bedrooms. The perfect size for a couple of confirmed bachelors.”
Your smile finally looks genuine. “I suppose you’re not going to let me back out, are you?”
My grin widens. “Not in a million years.”
For a moment your face darkens. “What about Coran?”
“Well, we’ll have to pay him back, you know. After all, he lent me the money. It was his idea.”
Confusion in your eyes, followed by mirth. You laugh, a sharp cackle, but at least it’s genuine- not the fake smile you plastered all over your face when they did that Goddamned VH-1 interview. I chuckle softly with you. It is, after all, an absurdly ludicrous idea that Coran would give up his favorite fuck toy so easily; and yet it’s so like Coran, so gentle and so wise, to release me the moment he realized the depth of my love for you.
So we shake hands there on the terrace, already mentally packing our bags for the trip back, except this time I won’t be traveling alone. It won’t be easy, Pidge, but I’m convinced that your strength and my devotion will bear us up in the weeks to come.
Thank you, friend, for giving me this second chance at life. I finally feel like I might actually be able to awaken in the mornings, and look forward to the coming day.
Back to the Voltron Story Archive