Fic: More (Brideshead Revisted)
May. 29th, 2005 07:35 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rosiespark.
Another tiny little ficlet-thingy, which I’ve decided to post today, even though I can’t reply to comments. Otherwise I’ll never post it, which would be a shame because, unlike the host of scribbled fragments I dignify with the name of Works In Progress, this one actually feels complete.
Title: More
Pairing: Sebastian/Charles (Brideshead Revisited)
Note: the title derives equally from Sebastian saying “More.” and from my having added to Evelyn Waugh’s rather frustratingly reticent account of the relationship between Charles and Sebastian. Most of this takes place in the space between two consecutive lines in the book…
He tells me about Constantinople and Athens, and about outwitting Mr Samgrass and making his escape back to Anthony in Constantinople. I listen and laugh, where appropriate, and hide my unease behind a haze of cigarette smoke.
He tells me about his Christmas in London, and the sick weight of distress grows until I can bear it no longer. I get to my feet and wish him goodnight.
He smiles then, and says, “Stay, Charles,” and kisses me, and I cannot refuse.
The next morning, with the hunt assembling outside, he asks me for money, as he said he would. I know what he will spend it on, but I cannot refuse him this, either.
I give him a pound.
“Is that all last night was worth to you, Charles?”
I know I am staring at him in disbelief.
He laughs mirthlessly. “Cheap at the price.”
I have no words to express the sudden sickening hurt.
His face crumples with his next breath. “I’m sorry, Charles. I didn’t mean it.” And just for an instant, he is his old self, charmingly contrite, apologizing for some minor misdemeanor with quiet sincerity.
“Sebastian.” I cannot keep the note of entreaty from my voice.
I reach out a hand but he steps back, face hardening into immobility again. I have lost him.
With a frown, he looks at the note in his hand and baldly utters a single word. “More.”
***
P.S. Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dargie and semyaza for their replies re. my mysterious inability to reply to posts or comments. ‘Fraid I’m still stuck. :( I haven’t tried downloading an lj client yet, since pc was supposed to be reformatted today. Since it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen, I might try Semagic.
ETA: Apologies for posting twice!
Another tiny little ficlet-thingy, which I’ve decided to post today, even though I can’t reply to comments. Otherwise I’ll never post it, which would be a shame because, unlike the host of scribbled fragments I dignify with the name of Works In Progress, this one actually feels complete.
Title: More
Pairing: Sebastian/Charles (Brideshead Revisited)
Note: the title derives equally from Sebastian saying “More.” and from my having added to Evelyn Waugh’s rather frustratingly reticent account of the relationship between Charles and Sebastian. Most of this takes place in the space between two consecutive lines in the book…
He tells me about Constantinople and Athens, and about outwitting Mr Samgrass and making his escape back to Anthony in Constantinople. I listen and laugh, where appropriate, and hide my unease behind a haze of cigarette smoke.
He tells me about his Christmas in London, and the sick weight of distress grows until I can bear it no longer. I get to my feet and wish him goodnight.
He smiles then, and says, “Stay, Charles,” and kisses me, and I cannot refuse.
The next morning, with the hunt assembling outside, he asks me for money, as he said he would. I know what he will spend it on, but I cannot refuse him this, either.
I give him a pound.
“Is that all last night was worth to you, Charles?”
I know I am staring at him in disbelief.
He laughs mirthlessly. “Cheap at the price.”
I have no words to express the sudden sickening hurt.
His face crumples with his next breath. “I’m sorry, Charles. I didn’t mean it.” And just for an instant, he is his old self, charmingly contrite, apologizing for some minor misdemeanor with quiet sincerity.
“Sebastian.” I cannot keep the note of entreaty from my voice.
I reach out a hand but he steps back, face hardening into immobility again. I have lost him.
With a frown, he looks at the note in his hand and baldly utters a single word. “More.”
***
P.S. Thanks to
dargie and semyaza for their replies re. my mysterious inability to reply to posts or comments. ‘Fraid I’m still stuck. :( I haven’t tried downloading an lj client yet, since pc was supposed to be reformatted today. Since it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen, I might try Semagic.ETA: Apologies for posting twice!
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-30 07:40 am (UTC)I don't use a client, which is why I said I was talking through my hat. Did you contact LJ Support to see if they had any suggestions? You can't be the first person in the world to have this problem. Surely.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-30 08:01 am (UTC)Yes, from work. Where everything works as it should when I access lj, leading me to believe that it's my bloody computer.
I think I'll wait till after I get it reformatted before contacting lj support. I mean, the computer's started doing a number of weird things lately - chances are this is just another sign of its growing insanity. :(
(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-30 07:54 pm (UTC)