|RSA Main||Fiction by Title||Fiction by Author||Fiction by Partners||Slash Subplots||Familiar Faces||Links|
Reply to Scynneh or visit her websitePosted to the RoswellSlash mailing list January 23, 2001
Disclaimer: If I had two sexy aliens who looked alike but not, and a pile of leather straps with ice cream on the side, what would I do? Not drown them in silly talk of destiny, that's for sure. Nope, in a land called 'Oh-Cruel World', I own nothing. Except their lusts...ohhh, and isn't that a lovely thought?
Dedication: To all acknowledged Rath-lovers. What would we do without pierced aliens with delectable bodies? May we never find out.
Rating: Ahh, musings about another male by a male, what's the verdict? Not for the close-minded.
Summary: Michael is thinking about Rath. In a VERY good way. <VEG> The title is Latin for 'to light up, illuminate.'
Distribution: Yes, and let me know.
Feedback: Oh, yes, that makes me all glowing inside.
Spoilers: I am a writer in a lovely place- 'The Dupes' have my Muses held captive, and since our negotiations are at a stalemate, I'm writing this to appease us both.
I'm not sure when he returned, only that I felt his presence breach the peaceful expanse of my consciousness and then stir the calm seas into a frenzy of violent and somehow delightfully enticing swells. I felt myself burned by the heat of a personality so forceful that it might burn too brightly and then go out if not tended properly, and so I left myself open, inviting what I considered a foregone reality.
His emotions seeped into my bones and I stared at objects without using my eyes; letting another see through me, a willing conduit for a desperately lonely being. Bereft of family, cold from the betrayals of his other half, and too proud, he found a home within me to warm himself. And as he approached, I felt the weakness sloughing away like an unnecessary garment to land at my feet. His existence tore away all that I had believed to be true, and everything that was ingrained in me that I had difficulty reconciling with bone-etched instincts.
When I stood unencumbered by anything human, he came, glistening in the radiance of the moon, appearing like some pierced and darkly flawed seraph, needing and yet dominating at once.
We met at some place where the desert joined with the horizon at the height of the desolate night, each abandoning our pretenses for the moment. Without the impediment of speech, he would have only spoken insults and I given voice to groundless excuses, we became something that was previously incomprehensible to either of us.
Our communication went beyond the mundane banalities preferred by humans; as our hands met and trembling perspiration sealed our bonds to one another, our souls touched as well.
Appearances contradicted the inner wants and desires of both parties, while the bodies exchanged whispered caresses of callused flesh in a universal language of acceptance. Not precisely the same, but too alike for enmity; at least in private, this cut through whatever masks were donned for public appeasement and gave away secrets like party favors; freely and without fear of repercussions. The pain of rejection was lost in a more delicious agony; that of a fathomless adoration, caulked over by contempt, but too evident to me for any sort of misleading verbal labyrinths. The sensation of surprisingly soft chestnut lengths and the press of silver authority set me free as few things had ever strived to. And in midnight's chasm, I found fingers painted with the tears of foreign skies wrapped tightly with my own, linking the parts into an infinitely stronger whole.
For when all the doors were locked and deadbolts set into place, floundering denial would be thrown to the gleeful wind in favor of a mutual truth.
Return to Top