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Xenogears: 30_romances
001: Cold hands
His hands were always cold, which he had come to associate, not so long ago, with holy thoughts.
Aquvy was all but an arctic region so the chill that pervaded everything, every wall and every human, was natural. In the first years after Raquel faded away the cold had been lethal; every frost that crept over the windows and every freezing breeze that gusted through the cracks threatened to bring death again into Billy's home. But with the grace of faith had come peace with the cold. His hands, clasped earnestly together in church, were cold and clean. Prim's hands were cold. Bishop Stone's hands were cold.
If Stone had been a lie, and the grace had been a lie, at least he still had his peace.
"Damn, your hands are like ice!" A grasp that had only been offered as help up lingered, strong calloused hands chafing his own slightly.
Billy jerked them away. Bart's honey-colored skin was too warm against his. "I've never believed in wearing gloves," he said.
After all, he had nothing to hide. (20 min)
002: The subconscious - Bury
It was difficult to have nothing left to believe in; Billy didn't have any reason to punish himself for the thoughts that he desperately wanted to be told were wrong. Burying them was useless. They surfaced, lurched around, assaulted him when he least expected them. The Wels were every sinful thought he'd ever had.
Sinful thoughts about other young men.
"I'm surprised the Ethos were so sexually rigid, considering all the foul play they were encouraging on the sly," his father told him sourly. The doors of Old Maison's liquor cabinet had been open for a while for Jesse to be so undeterred by Billy's constant rejections. "That sort of thing was always A-OK in Solaris." Knowing that was the only reason Billy had told him at all.
"It's not about the Ethos," he snapped. He hated feeling like he should defend the organization that had strung him along, especially to Jesse, who had known the whole time and decided not to tell him. "It's about... It's about how I feel."
"How do you feel then, boy? I'm not a mind-reader here, we can't all be Hyu or Sig."
Billy hesitated. "I feel like... Like it's a corruption of a pure friendship."
Jesse snorted. His head kept sinking towards the table. "Such a child. What could be purer than sex?" (15 min)
005: Trickery
It felt like playing a practical joke on an entire country. He was pulling the wool over the eyes of every man, woman and child in Aveh. Any moment now the illusion would fail and they would realize that they had a jester for a king. It worried him, because he hated the weight of expectations on his shoulders. Bart was not the kind of man who enjoyed falling on his face for the amusement of others.
Maybe Sig could rule the country. Did having exotic body piercings disqualify you for kingship?
He kept seeing Billy sit out on the edge of the fountain outside; it was shady and cool there and the water was soothing. Eventually the water and the boy dragged Bart out to unwind.
The younger boy said, "Will the whole city show up for your coronation?"
"Probably. That's what I'm afraid of." Bart quirked a grin at him, rueful. It was easy to make himself look like a fool around Billy; the Atoner was so quick to do so on his own that it was a familiar situation.
Billy studied their reflections in the water, wavery and uncertain. "Afraid of it?" His gaze was wistful. "Think of how much they must love you, to welcome you home so well." (15 min)
008: Analysis
"It's so easy for him to make fun of me," Bart snapped to no one in particular. Sigurd made an odd coughing sound that could have been a laugh in a prior life. "He doesn't have a thousand people peering over his shoulder judging every decision he makes! I've got a peanut gallery living in a shack in the middle of nowhere on a godforsaken continent plagued by zombies."
"Some might consider such honesty refreshing. Or even rewarding."
"Well, I don't want to hear it!" Bart let out an explosive breath and admitted, "I do want to hear it." Better Billy, who cared about him in some -- obscure -- way, than a thousand critics in Aveh who wanted only a chance to snipe at the reigning monarch. "But damnit all, that kid is way too young to be so sour."
Sigurd shrugged; it had been a long time since he had been accountable in any way for Billy's upbringing.
It was aggravating. What did Bart need to do to win his goodwill? He'd already sworn the boy would never go hungry again. Perhaps that steel would always be there, in that vibrant tenor, in those pale eyes, whenever they were together.
His hands were always cold, which he had come to associate, not so long ago, with holy thoughts.
Aquvy was all but an arctic region so the chill that pervaded everything, every wall and every human, was natural. In the first years after Raquel faded away the cold had been lethal; every frost that crept over the windows and every freezing breeze that gusted through the cracks threatened to bring death again into Billy's home. But with the grace of faith had come peace with the cold. His hands, clasped earnestly together in church, were cold and clean. Prim's hands were cold. Bishop Stone's hands were cold.
If Stone had been a lie, and the grace had been a lie, at least he still had his peace.
"Damn, your hands are like ice!" A grasp that had only been offered as help up lingered, strong calloused hands chafing his own slightly.
Billy jerked them away. Bart's honey-colored skin was too warm against his. "I've never believed in wearing gloves," he said.
After all, he had nothing to hide. (20 min)
002: The subconscious - Bury
It was difficult to have nothing left to believe in; Billy didn't have any reason to punish himself for the thoughts that he desperately wanted to be told were wrong. Burying them was useless. They surfaced, lurched around, assaulted him when he least expected them. The Wels were every sinful thought he'd ever had.
Sinful thoughts about other young men.
"I'm surprised the Ethos were so sexually rigid, considering all the foul play they were encouraging on the sly," his father told him sourly. The doors of Old Maison's liquor cabinet had been open for a while for Jesse to be so undeterred by Billy's constant rejections. "That sort of thing was always A-OK in Solaris." Knowing that was the only reason Billy had told him at all.
"It's not about the Ethos," he snapped. He hated feeling like he should defend the organization that had strung him along, especially to Jesse, who had known the whole time and decided not to tell him. "It's about... It's about how I feel."
"How do you feel then, boy? I'm not a mind-reader here, we can't all be Hyu or Sig."
Billy hesitated. "I feel like... Like it's a corruption of a pure friendship."
Jesse snorted. His head kept sinking towards the table. "Such a child. What could be purer than sex?" (15 min)
005: Trickery
It felt like playing a practical joke on an entire country. He was pulling the wool over the eyes of every man, woman and child in Aveh. Any moment now the illusion would fail and they would realize that they had a jester for a king. It worried him, because he hated the weight of expectations on his shoulders. Bart was not the kind of man who enjoyed falling on his face for the amusement of others.
Maybe Sig could rule the country. Did having exotic body piercings disqualify you for kingship?
He kept seeing Billy sit out on the edge of the fountain outside; it was shady and cool there and the water was soothing. Eventually the water and the boy dragged Bart out to unwind.
The younger boy said, "Will the whole city show up for your coronation?"
"Probably. That's what I'm afraid of." Bart quirked a grin at him, rueful. It was easy to make himself look like a fool around Billy; the Atoner was so quick to do so on his own that it was a familiar situation.
Billy studied their reflections in the water, wavery and uncertain. "Afraid of it?" His gaze was wistful. "Think of how much they must love you, to welcome you home so well." (15 min)
008: Analysis
"It's so easy for him to make fun of me," Bart snapped to no one in particular. Sigurd made an odd coughing sound that could have been a laugh in a prior life. "He doesn't have a thousand people peering over his shoulder judging every decision he makes! I've got a peanut gallery living in a shack in the middle of nowhere on a godforsaken continent plagued by zombies."
"Some might consider such honesty refreshing. Or even rewarding."
"Well, I don't want to hear it!" Bart let out an explosive breath and admitted, "I do want to hear it." Better Billy, who cared about him in some -- obscure -- way, than a thousand critics in Aveh who wanted only a chance to snipe at the reigning monarch. "But damnit all, that kid is way too young to be so sour."
Sigurd shrugged; it had been a long time since he had been accountable in any way for Billy's upbringing.
It was aggravating. What did Bart need to do to win his goodwill? He'd already sworn the boy would never go hungry again. Perhaps that steel would always be there, in that vibrant tenor, in those pale eyes, whenever they were together.
no subject
Godiva chocolates? XD
*coughs* Anyway....
Reading these brought two things to mind... 1) That I really need to replay this game and 2) that you are an awesome writer. ^_^ It's amazing how you make drabbles actually... well short! And there's still so much in there. :3
*love*
And I didn't know you liked Billy/Bart. Where were you back in HS when I was going on about it and my friends kept giving me funny looks. ^^;
What could be purer than sex?
Jesse's great. Can so see him saying that.