Surfing's the Source

Remi.

[ghostsofamericana-blog]

Remi shrugs, distress sprawling on his face, "uhm well I guess not then. Sixteen hours was probably too many hours at the hospital. But you're sure no ine ekse is here?"

[ghostsofamericana-blog]

“Okay,” Remi pauses, standing in the hallway and looking around like a lost dog, “was there not someone just here who needed medical attention? How does a whole human being just disappear?” He runs his hand over his forehead, sighiing deeply, “this is it. I’m going crazy. I knew it was going to happen. You didn’t see anyone bleeding did you?”

[brucee-waynee]

Amy Bailey: A tender moment between father and son. 

[ghostsofamericana-blog]

Bleeding Out| Remi and Mal

[ghostsofamericana-blog]

There’s an emptiness in the space between them that goes far beyond mass and physics, and Malcolm feels it growing as Remi throws his own indecision in his face.  It threatens to devour him whole; and it takes every last shred of his willpower not to reach out and pull his friend back into the void with him.  He’s quiet, but not the way that he usually is; mind whirring a litany of silent judgment and bitter remarks that he simply chooses not to voice–this is a different sort of quiet, the kind that is borne of the fear that if he opens his mouth to speak he won’t be able to hold back the confusing emotions that threaten to overwhelm him even now.  Blue eyes drop to where his hands shake clasping the blanket on his lap, and he squeezes a little harder.  

“I don’t wanna’ walk away,” Malcolm says at last, voice edged with a raspiness that betrays what he’s trying to hide.  He isn’t sure that Remiel fully grasps the gravity of the statement.  It is a choice for him–to go on pretending that he is someone he is not, to fit himself into a mold that everyone he knows and loves has laid out for him and to make a life from what scraps of happiness he can manage–or to take that step into forbidden territory and allow himself the chance to have something real at the cost of everything, everyone, else.  It is a terrible decision to have to make, one from which there is no going back.  Once he steps through this door, Remi really will be all that he has.    

He forces himself to breathe; one of his hands sliding over to pull Remi’s away from his face and grasp his fingers firmly in his own.  “I’m sorry, I know I’ve been pullin’ you in different directions and shuttin’ down when we try talkin’ about it, but…me sayin’ I’m not gay, I wasn’t bein’ completely honest…” Mal shakes his head, trailing off, “Remi, I’m scared,” He whispers, and there is such raw honesty in the confession that his expression breaks along with it.  “I’m not as brave as you were…I don’t know how to do this, and I’m sorry I keep messin’ up every time I try…but I know what I want.  I want you.”  There are tears spilling down his cheeks and Malcolm is fairly certain it’s the first time he’s let anybody see him cry since his father told him to buck up and stop weeping like a pussy after the accident, “I just want you.”

Remiel’s need to be ‘good’ is no more apparent than now as his own selfish longing evaporates with the feeling of Malcolm’s hand pulling his. His shifts back over to look at his friend. His next movements, while still a bit clumsy, are more purposeful as he tugs the blanket up around Malcolm’s shoulders. “I want you too,” he murmurs back, “and just this chance. . .to prove to you that I’m worth the faith you’ve put in me.” His hand moves up and he wipes at Mal’s tears, ignoring his own for the moment. This whole situation has gone horribly wrong but he already feels like half the lead weights tied around his heart have been snipped. The back his throat burns with his tears but his chest doesn’t ache as much as it was only a moment ago.

“We should have just gone to sleep,” he chokes out with a bitter laugh, “Oh Malcolm. . .I did  imagine a much grander gesture on my part to woo you. Seems kind of stupid now,” he inches closer, hoping to guide Malcolm into some semblance of laying down. “it’s going to be alright, we’ll. . .we’ll figure it out and I know it’s scary and I’m so sorry I asked you for this. I know. . . I know what you could lose and I can’t promise I’m worth that but I will always be your family. We’ll go slow. It’s. . . it’s enough for me to know. We don’t have to call it anything or make it be something until you’re ready. I know I really keep screwing things up and I’m just, I’m the worst at communicating but I can learn to do better. I want to do better for you.” 

Remiel’s back to combing his fingers through Malcolm’s hair, trying to offer comfort and it occurs to him to say the one thing he had always wanted to hear when he was younger. “It’s okay Malcolm. . . you don’t have to be strong today. It’s just us right now and we’ll figure it out and I will never think less of you because you are brave and you are strong but you don’t have to be as strong right now as you were yesterday. Just let me know if there’s something you need. . . I can call out of work? We can hide under the covers all night if you like.”

[ghostsofamericana-blog]

“Then apology definitely accepted,” Jax wasn’t used to people that were nice. Normally they were all stuck on themselves or they’d get snappy - which led her to get snappy right back. “I’m Jax, who the heck are you politest college boy I’ve met.”

“Technically I’m a fourth year med student, but it’s still school. . .kind of and I’m Remi. It’s a pleasure to meet you, most realistic barrista I’ve met,” he extends his hand in greeting to the other woman, “retail is probably the worst type of job to have and I can’t imagine having to endure under caffeinated jerks all day. You deserve a hundred ice creams, sadly I can only afford one but I hope this can build a bridge between our peoples.” 

[ghostsofamericana-blog]

Theo smirked at the original question, “We might have pets, in the pets store.” He pointed out, “Er, no fish that want to be played with, but people in apartments usually go cats, so maybe a kitten?”

Remiel frowns a little, he doesn’t hate cats with the passion of 10,000 fiery sons, but he really doesn’t like them. The poop in boxes and then run their little poopy paws all over the counter and he might not be the most organized person in existence but he does wash his hands after he uses the bathroom. “What about an old cat,” the ‘so it dies sooner’ remains unsaid. Not that he wouldn’t take care of it, certainly he will, but he’s not interested in a cat hanging around for the next twelve years, “something that will be petted but doesn’t do anything else really. Maybe goes for walks? They have cat leashes now don’t they?”

[ghostsofamericana-blog]

Bleeding Out| Remi and Mal

[ghostsofamericana-blog]

Malcolm goes deadly silent, listening and trying to process every word that Remi is spelling out.  There’s a new numbness washing over him, this time like ice in his veins, and he cannot help but wonder if the sick feeling he’s starting to sense in his belly has more to do with the prescription pain pills he’s taken or the realization of what his best friend is offering him.  “No…” Mal whispers, shaking his head before repeating himself more firmly, “No–,” He pushes Remiel off of him, struggling to sit up.  His head is spinning, blankets pooling in his lap as he leans forward to catch his temples in his hands and squeeze his eyes shut.  The more of these bizarre contract terms he hears, the less Malcolm can bring himself to rationalize any of it.

Finally, Remi says something that makes him snap.  “–I’m not some fuckin’ charity case, Remi!  And I’m sure as Hell not some lowlife John you’re gonna’ service for a favor or an easy payday!”  He’s incensed, and it’s showing clearly in his eyes when he looks back over at his friend.  “Christ, is that–Is that what you think this is?  You think I’d be cool with just usin’ you like that ‘cause you’re paintin’ on a fake persona and actin’ like you’re content to be some dirty little secret?”  A hand drags down his face, catching over his mouth as he chokes down a bitter huff that lacks any trace of humor, “You’re my best friend, you asshole, how dare you treat me like a fuckin’ customer…I don’t want ‘Angeles’, and I don’t want your stupid deal, I want you…”

“Why can’t you just. . .” 

Remiel curls his hands near his head before letting them fall back onto Malcolm’s bed with a muted ‘flop’. “Why can’t you just let me suck your dick and make both of us happy? You think I let people kiss me or touch me or go around bareback. . .” Remiel breathes out a groan that sounds more like a growl. He shifts and puts his feet on the ground. He could run. He could run away and hide from Malcolm and maybe in a few days they could pretend neither of them had just said what they’ve said. 

“I’m trying. . .I was trying to make it so you could walk away and we wouldn’t have to stop being friends. You want me but. . . but what does that mean? What happens when you don’t anymore? If I don’t have you,” he swallows, “who do I have? You can say best friend and throw it away because you’ll always have love in your life. You’ll always have a family and you’ll always be desired and I know you only see what you don’t have but. . .” he hesitates. Remiel pushes himself to be selfless and to be generous even to the point of his own unhappiness -his desire to be good is such that he feels compelled to constantly do better. 

“Measure your life in what you do have. I’m so. . . you think I didn’t try to be what my parents wanted? To be straight. To be pious. To be the perfect son. I would kill for what you have. . . I almost died trying to get it and you just, you’re sitting there judging me because maybe I am desperate for a human connection and I don’t know why I’m so stuck on you but I want you. I want you so bad and I want to make you happy but you make it so hard to know what you want.” Remiel hunches over, covering his eyes with his fists, trying to push his tears back into his eyes, “what I want is to love you and to be allowed to. You’ve spent months telling me that’s not possible so what changed Malcolm?Is it because I have a future or is this some experiment? Do you want exclusivity until you find something better? 

No one’s ever changed their mind for him before and he’s struggling to comprehend the fact that perhaps Malcolm has. “Or do. . . are you actually choosing me a. . .above everyone else? Tell me what you mean. . .what you want. Please.” 

[rock-lobstahh]

Visit Original Link

A white blank page and a swelling rage, rage

You did not think when you sent me to the brink, to the brink

You desired my attention but denied my affections, my affections

[ghostsofamericana-blog]

“Apology accepted, at least one of you can do it,” she muttered. Did she look five that an ice cream sandwich would work? Wait, who was she kidding, it was. “Only if it’s a napoleon one.”

“It’s your apology ice cream so it can be whatever flavor you want I suppose,” Remi answers flicking her a nervous smile. At least she seemed receptive to the apology he was making on behalf of every rude college kid ever -though admittedly he always tried to be polite himself and stuck to more simple coffees. 

[elijahlawson-deactivated2016061]

@surfingsthesource

Theo sighed leaning his elbows on the counter, “just an hour left.” He muttered looking up at the clock. Turning to focus on the tower of dog treats he had just created he placed the last delicately balanced treat of the tower. Hearing the door go he looked up to see a guy wander in,  standing up straight he nodded his head in the guys directions. “Hello.” He said in his best, I’m at work voice.

[ghostsofamericana-blog]

“Uh,” Remiel panics mildly where he stands, not expecting to be acknowledged by anyone. He had planned on looking at the fish and snakes and maybe the dog toys, for the dog he wanted but didn’t have, before heading home for the weekend. “Hello. . .there. . .sir. You have pets. . .I mean, what might be good for an apartment? Do you have any fish that like to be played with or something?”

[thespotlighthq-blog]

“So I have a motorcycle, but sometimes I ride my bike back and forth places when I wanna get some exercise. Today I decided to ride my bike and I was riding in the bike lane on a busy street when some asshole decided to scream at me from the passenger side window of a gray Sonata. I mean, hahaha I’m glad you got your laugh but I almost fell off my bike into a busy street and let’s be honest, that probably would have been a morbid ending for me. What did I do? I got lucky enough to catch up to those assholes at a red light, and even better, the window was still down, so guess, just guess what I did. Right before I went to turn right, I scared the shit outta them by screaming back while passing by. The girl in the passenger seat literally spilled her drink everywhere from how scared she was. Maybe I should have been the bigger person but… fuck being the bigger person, they totally deserved it.”

[ghostsofamericana-blog]

Remiel grimaces as the other man explains his day. He can’t confess to approving of such tactics. “Maybe you could call the police next time. Reckless endangerment on their part would be pretty serious and would reduce the risk for people like you, since they obviously don’t respect road safety. Then you’ve done something good for other people that could have, like you said, ended up in the middle of a busy highway. Baltimore is not a pedestrian friendly city you could help change that,” he frowns a little though. Most people aren’t as interested in changing the world or upholding humanist ideals as their social media accounts often like to present. “Plus, you’ve kind of ruined their day because they have to deal with the police and will probably have to pay fines.”

[ghostsofamericana-blog]

Bleeding Out| Remi and Mal

[ghostsofamericana-blog]

There’s a voice nagging at the back of his mind–muted, but sounding conspicuously like his father gruffly drawling off a lecture in his most disappointed tone–and it takes every shred of Malcolm’s willpower to ignore it.  Remi doesn’t pull away; a reassurance that Mal doesn’t take for granted, and before he knows it the kiss has gone from chaste to heated.  When his mother had kissed his cheek goodbye and told him she would pray for him to meet a good Christian girl in Baltimore, Mal is pretty sure this is not what she’d had in mind.  This is something beyond a few wild college days and the thrill that goes along with tasting freedom for the first time–Remiel isn’t the first boy he’s kissed, but he is the only one whose name he knows; the only one he’s ever cared to see again in the morning.

A chill shoots through him as Remi pushes him onto his back, and for once it’s got nothing to do with the temperature under the heated blanket.  There’s the weight of his best friend’s hips on his own, the slide of thin cotton over bare skin, and Malcolm realizes all at once that any hopes he might have had of denying his attraction are quite fled.  It’s been more than six months since he’s seen any action that didn’t begin and end with his own right hand, and Lord Almighty, but his body is in some kind of a rush to remind him of it.  His brows knit together when he feels the sudden absence of lips on his, and when his eyes meet Remi’s there is an unspoken question written in the look.  “What are you–?” He starts to ask, his tongue about ten steps ahead of his brain at the moment.  The words halt in his mouth when it catches up.  “–oh.”  Oh.  His pulse hammers in his ears, a sudden wave of nervousness washing over him.  While Mal isn’t the slightest bit convinced that what his friend is suggesting would have any bearing on his chronic pain problems, for other reasons it is a notion that he finds himself strongly considering.  “You’re proposin’ we tack on a ‘with benefits’ clause to our friendship?  Is that…Remi, is that what you want?”

“You can’t give me what I want,” Remiel answers, it’s not unkind but it is the truth, before he nips at the soft skin where Malcolm’s neck and shoulder meet. He spots kisses along Malcolm’s collar bone as if he were planting flowers there. “It would only be after days you went to treatment. It’s got nothing to do with how I feel about you or how you feel about me, homosexuality, or what we are. It’s not meant to help you figure out your sexuality or make you want me. Think of it as a business deal that’s completely compartmentalized from our friendship. You have to follow my instructions. You can ask for favors and I’ll say yes or I’ll say no and you won’t argue with my decision. You won’t tell anyone what I’m doing for you, especially because I’m not charging you. You tell someone and you'll have to compensate me. That’s the number one rule. I don’t expect you to reciprocate, if you decide you want to, you may, once again ask me and I may say yes or no.” 

Remiel shifts and meets Malcolm’s gaze again. There’s something sad and hungry in his tired eyes and playful smirk. “You can even call me Angeles and say ‘no homo’ beforehand if that makes it more comfortable for you. You need to find things that make you feel good and I think I can help you. It doesn’t have to be forever, just until you find someone you want to share yourself with. You don’t have to say yes either. You can say know and we can forget I offered. I won’t make the mistake again and we’ll forget about this. . .indiscretion, if that’s what this is to you.” Although the pressure against his hips tells him it might be more than a lonely mistake that Malcolm made. “Or it can just be you letting someone else take care of you without it being anything besides that.” 

[ghostsofamericana-blog]

Back in Black (and Blue)|Jordan and Remi

[ghostsofamericana-blog]

Jordan had just been trying to add some makeshift shelves to the wall in the living room after he’d gained permission. A surprise for his roomie, but Jordan was accident prone and soon enough he had fallen backwards off the chair he had been standing on and landed on his back with that loud thud. Shit. It took him a moment before his brain was able to focus on what Remi was saying and once it did register, the brunette sat up slowly, rubbing his head. “I think I’ll be okay, not too sure about the poor chair though,” he mumbled before looking down. “Wait, who…are you?”

Remiel sighs in relief when he realizes his neighbor isn’t dead, dying, unconscious or in any more danger than having a pretty gnarly headache. He plops himself down across from the other man. “Yeah sorry, I’m Remi. I live on the other side of the hallway. I think we road the elevator together once at like three in the morning. I usually ignore the loud thuds I hear but I honest to God thought you had died and I was about to walk in on a mangled body. Glad I didn’t but uhh,” and his hand moves to rub the back of his neck, “sorry this is our first official meeting. I’m not a very good neighbor am I?”

[valkyras-blog]

[ghostsofamericana-blog]

Bleeding Out| Remi and Mal

[ghostsofamericana-blog]

The heat of the electric blanket envelopes him, and what remains of his natural skin begins to tingle as sensation slowly returns to his nerves.  Of course, with it comes the pain, if slightly duller than it had been before.  This misery is Malcolm’s reality, twice a week for the next two years–maybe all for nothing–and yet some part of him thinks that perhaps with Remi here it isn’t unbearable.  Opioids are still swimming through his system, clouding his mind and making the world feel a little less clear, but when his best friend pulls his pants off and slides under the covers to join him Malcolm is fairly certain that he isn’t suffering from some lapse in perception.  This isn’t like the last time they were in bed together; when Remi was so drunk he could hardly function and Mal dared not leave him alone for fear that he would choke on his own vomit in his sleep–This is different.  It isn’t necessary, probably not even strictly wise, but he realizes at once that he wants it; that he misses the comfort of a warm body next to his, and that there is exactly one person in his life who wants that, too.  And right now, Malcolm is looking at him.

“You gonna’ be alright gettin’ to work?” He asks groggily as Remiel scoots closer, “Your car’s still sittin’ on a dead battery, isn’t it?  Take my truck.”  Gentle fingers are threading through his hair; the dim light peering through the blinds just enough for Mal to make out the azure shadows in the depths of Remi’s eyes–and he’s struck again by the poignant thought; ‘just friends’ don’t look at each other like that.  He slips a hand from beneath the blanket to catch Remi’s, stilling as he whispers, “Remi, what are we doin’?  Are we–” Malcolm closes his eyes, brow furrowing in frustration as he searches for the right words; but sometimes there are none to be found.  Sometimes, actions speak louder, anyway.  He shifts, leaning in to press his lips to Remiel’s for the second time, and all at once it becomes exceedingly clear.  This is totally happening.

“Technically the battery is sitting in the car until i can pay for a new one. Tonight’s tips should cover it. Then I just have to recycle the old one and. . .thank you Mal. . .” his voice quiets. He is grateful for the offer, not that he minds walking or taking the bus but the quiet ride home, alone in a car often gives him a few minutes to collect himself and dissociate from the ‘Angeles’ personality. It gives him the time to feel human again. He doesn’t have time to formulate any sort of response to Malcolm’s question before his lips are caught by a much deeper kiss than the first one. Remi is surprised, the first one was a fluke -but this one is concrete and determined. His eyes close and he leans into it, a pleased sigh escaping as his lips part to deepen the kiss. Hints of the raspberry flavored coffee Mal drank earlier remain. He’s not entirely displeased by this, he imagines it’s much better tasting than the green sludge Malcolm usually downs in the morning. 

Remiel shifts both of them, fingers lacing with Mal’s as he leans over him. He curls their arms up around Malcom’s head and settles into the kiss. He definitely regrets taking off his pants, despite the near excessive heat in the bed, his trunks are the only barrier between him and the person he’s been in love with for the past few months. He’s had a sexual dry spell that’s lasted almost as long. He has his knee slotted between Malcolm’s before he pulls away; forcing himself to stop. Remi presses their foreheads together, breathing out through his nose. “Malcolm. . .I. . .we. . .I can help you with your pain. . . if. . .if you wanted me to. I offered you something once and you weren’t interested then. Maybe if you’ve changed your mind on what you’re open to. There would be rules. . . we can make a deal. Would you like that?”

[breanneolmstead]

“I have never been so thankful to be off my shift in my life. One more hyper college kid comes in here demanding a triple shot whatever the hell and I was about to pour them over their heads..”

[ghostsofamericana-blog]

“As one of those kinds of students I would like to send my sincerest apologies. . .we don’t mean it. I swear. Maybe I can get you an ice cream sandwich to make up for it?”

[ghostsofamericana-blog]

Bleeding Out| Remi and Mal

[ghostsofamericana-blog]

"Of course," Remi answers Malcolm’s question with a softnes that is common on hi tongue when the other man is showing a vulnerability he doubts anyone else has ever seen -or if they have, it has been very few. He clicks the heated blanket on before moving to the othersside of the bed. Remi sits on the corner, peeling off his socks and after a moment of thought, his scrub pants too. He's about to spend the next couple of hours sweating his balls off -where Malcolm was worried about their residency in his chest Remi might find his own down near his knees. He won't be comfortable per say but he'll be able to sleep regardless and he wants to spend the time with Malcolm, especially since he was asked.

Remi studies his watch for a might and sets an alarm to go off half an hour before he needs to leave for work. "Alright Mal," he murmurs, lifting the blankets and scooching up to his friend. "I've got the alarm set for a bit from now. If you're still asleep I'll let you rest and take your key with me on the way out. I should be back around four or five," Remi moves cautiously beside Malcolm, nervous at first as he lifts his hand before running his fingers through Malcolm’s hair and along the bridge of his nose. His touch is gentle and meant to be soothing but there is an ocean in his gaze as it follows the trails of his finger. "You ever need anything. . .you know I'm here for you, right?"