Are
You Lonesome Tonight, John Coltrane?
Copyright: 2000
Author: emmastark
Rated: PG-13 Light M/M slash
(Face/Murdock)
Archive: Yes, please.
Disclaimer: All original TAT characters
belong to Stephen J. Cannell and Universal.
Warning: Light M/M slash (Face/Murdock)
Comments: Please
Summary: A little music, a little dancing.
Night comfort. That’s all.
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Are You Lonesome Tonight, John
Coltrane?
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Music, on the edge of hearing.
BA woke up slowly. The room was very dark, 3
am dark, and he lay there for awhile, listening.
Definitely jazz. Saxaphone and drums, piano,
bass. Wind howling around the windows. Hannibal snoring softly, sonorously in
the next room.
He liked waking up to the sounds of other
people in the house. Whatever house they were in. Liked the familiar voices and
footsteps and movements.
They didn’t have many connections. Any of
them. Couldn’t.
But they had each other.
BA crawled out from beneath the blankets. The
air was cold. Colder here, than LA. He’d grown up in Chicago, but he was used
to warmer climates now.
His robe had been lost somewhere along the
way (Little Creek? Barlow? Hanover?). He pulled one of the blankets off the bed
and wrapped it around himself. Went to the door of his room. Moved down the
long, dark hallway.
A fire glowed in the fireplace in the front
room of the house, casting a gentle, flickering gold light out into the darkness.
BA paused, looking in.
Murdock and Face were dancing. Well, not
dancing, maybe. (Could you dance to John Coltrane?) Their bodies were pressed
close together. Their eyes were closed. They moved slowly, rocking back and
forth.
Murdock was wearing the bottom half of Face’s
red silk pajamas. His feet were bare. Face had one arm wrapped around Murdock’s
waist and the other stretched across his naked back.
Face wore black silk boxers and the red silk
pajama top, unbuttoned. Murdock was draped over him, kind of, holding him
close. Face’s head rested on Murdock’s shoulder.
The music stopped, suddenly, sax giving way
to drums, giving way to silence, but the two men kept moving. They had their
own rhythm. Slow. Gentle.
Silence gave way to... Elvis.
When he was in the VA, Murdock often made his
own compilations of music. Other people might put together collections of their
favorite love songs, or their favorite ballads. But Murdock wasn’t other
people. He had his own reasons for things, and you’d go crazy yourself if you
tried to figure out why he did what he did. In his compilations, you never knew
what you were going to hear.
Elvis was crooning softly in the darkness.
"Are you lonesome tonight?" he sang. "Do you miss me tonight?
Are you sorry we drifted apart?"
Murdock clutched Face closer to him. Held him
tightly, protectively.
Opened his eyes.
BA found himself looking straight into
Murdock’s dark gaze. Startled. For a moment, they stared at each other.
Silent.
"Is your heart filled with pain," Elvis
sang, "shall I come back again? Tell me dear, are you lonesome
tonight?"
Murdock’s lips lifted into a grin against
Face’s hair. Face lifted his head, questioningly, and Murdock dipped him down a
little so he could see BA standing in the doorway.
Face’s eyes got that guarded look for a
moment, and he stiffened. But Murdock’s arms tightened around him. Face sighed,
and relaxed again. Closed his eyes again. Let himself be held.
Murdock smiled at BA. Gestured vaguely toward
the couch with one hand, then smoothed his fingers back against the warm, red
silk that sheathed Face’s strong shoulders.
BA hesitated for a moment. But he didn’t want
to be alone.
He moved over to the couch. Settled himself
down, rested his head on the arm of it. Stared at the fire. Stared at his
friends.
It could have been more lonely, seeing them
together there. But they didn’t turn him away and it made him feel better
instead, watching them hold each other. Watching them move gently to the
music.
He could feel the heat from the fire. Elvis
turned into Jim Morrison. The Carpenters sang something about rainy days and
Mondays. Judy Garland sang "Somewhere, Over the Rainbow."
BA’s eyes were half-closed. His mind drifted,
but he kept watching Face and Murdock as the fire burned itself down.
Murdock was still draped over Face, arms
enclosing, but now it seemed like he was leaning on him. Face supported
Murdock’s weight, held him tight.
Face looked at BA now. As the music faded.
Smiled a slow, lazy half-smile. Eyes admitting he was happy, like he could
hardly believe it himself. BA nodded. He wasn’t sure what he was agreeing to.
Nobody’d said anything all night except dead people. (Was that why Murdock had
put them together?)
Maybe he was saying yes to soft music. Maybe
he was saying yes to dancing by firelight. Maybe he was saying yes to anything
that made the night less lonely.
Face whispered in Murdock’s ear and Murdock
lifted his head sleepily from Face’s shoulder. Shivered a little.
Face rubbed his hands down Murdock’s bare arms,
then pulled him toward their bedroom.
BA settled deeper into the couch’s soft embrace and fell back into sleep.
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~fin~