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I just figured out this meme is HARD! Because it's fun to get requests, but then you actually have to WRITE THE DRABBLES!
So both Laura and MFFC requested some PMG/DS . . . and Laura sent me the link from long ago where Paul almost drooled over Davey after he sang on the Merv Griffin show in Vegas (as they were filming SH there) so I wrote two drabbles that relate to that time and to each other and to the ridiculously romantic (at least in my head) years of phone calls and rendevous and break ups and make ups. And they're both actually only 100 words (which I am starting to believe is HARDER than a novella).
What Happens in Vegas (for Laura)
He managed to pull us far enough backstage to not completely ruin our careers, but not far enough so that Merv didn’t talk to him for months. I didn’t care. I needed to touch him. To absorb his light. For weeks he’d just been a voice on the phone. A promise whispered in the dark. And I believed every word. Almost. But when he stepped into that spot, his voice was honey on a cello, so pure, so sincere. He surrounded me, confounded me and finally, in recognition of what it all really meant, I broke into a million pieces.
Stays in Vegas (for Barrie)
I never got fixed. That night in Vegas turned into thirty years of Vegas. And London. And Paducah, Kentucky (don’t ask). Every time he comes to me, his hands trace our history across my chest and his kisses take me home. Now he sleeps beside me, his fingers trailing after that last cigarette, his voice a little rougher, his light a little dimmer. Since that first night he sang into my bones, we’ve probably fucked up more than we fucked. But it doesn’t seem to matter, because every time he whispers my name I break into pieces all over again.
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Date: 2009-05-16 10:51 pm (UTC)Seem to Miss So Much. Breaks Paulie. Oh, god. I adore you.
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