"Discipline is the egg-timer of Achievement"
-Otto von Bismarck
Poppy Z. Brite's Lost Souls universe.
through the night
by stungunbilly
Ghost found a still-sealed bottle of Night Train on the bus bench, but his hands were empty when he returned to Steve’s side in the ticket line. It had been about 3 weeks since Steve had taken even a small drink, and his hands hadn’t stopped shaking in the mornings yet. Ghost would hold them in his own thin, cold fingers and tell the stories he found in the lines of Steve’s palms. It seemed to help.
Two mornings ago, Steve had kissed him.
*Finally*, Ghost hadn’t said, and continued his story without a break. But that night they’d done a little more exploring. It wasn’t like the sex he had seen in other people’s heads, or read about, or even imagined all alone with his Night Train at home in his colorful bedroom. But it had been better than good.
“What are you smiling at?” asked Steve, good-naturedly suspicious.
An image of Steve at fourteen, playing guitar hour on hour, terribly, came into Ghost’s head. It was followed by others; Steve puking on a bloody sidewalk, guzzling a pint of whiskey, pouring a brand new sixpack down the drain with a fierce grin. And last, Steve hovering over him sheened in sweat, eyes vulnerable. Ghost’s smile widened.
“I don’t know where we’re going next, but I like travelling with you,” he said.
~
Okay, that's number one.
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