Liralen Li (liralen) wrote,
Liralen Li
liralen

Original Fic: Thinking Too Much

Title: Thinking Too Much
Character: David
Rating/Warning: R? Not quite work safe due to explicit thought content... and language
Word Count: 1000, this is one of my 30 1000-word fics
Summary: David goes north to his friend Abe's place.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, any and all resemblance to people living or dead is pure coincidence.



David's little powder blue TT ate up the long steep slopes of the Grapevine, north of LA. Getting gracefully by gutless cars and loaded semis occupied David very well for a while; but by the time he'd gotten past Bakersfield and faced the long stretches of the San Joaqin Valley, David began to hate how much time he had alone to think.

Failed. David had failed another relationship, and he hated the feeling, even knowing that he'd bent over backwards to demands he shouldn't have accommodated. He still felt like he'd failed. David counted old relationships in his head and just shook his head after hitting a dozen, it was just his fault. He was just too fucked up socially, to be able to function with another human being.

There was just so many thing wrong with him, with how broken he was, how smart he was, how stupidly intense he got about any and every job he got to the exclusion of the people in his life. There was no way anyone could love him.

Really, that was the reality of it, that was...

David looked around, there was no one on the freeway about him. He was driving over eighty miles per hour, so he leaned forward and hit the top edge of the steering wheel with his forehead. Hard.

The combination of speed, stupidity of the move, and keeping the car perfectly in control stopped David's brain.

And David was grateful.

Thinking was one of David's far too strong suits, and he indulged in it the way some men indulged in sex, alcohol, or drugs. He understood his addiction and after four decades of managing it, David had some knowledge of how to turn it to his will rather than letting himself spiral out of control. That that knowledge included whips and chains felt moot. Video games worked, too, but not in a car.

So instead of thinking about failed relationships, he tried thinking about sex.

David hadn't had any for nearly a month, so it was easy.

David thought about taking someone up the ass, about the yielding feeling of going in just as the ring gave. He thought about the sweet slide of kisses, mouth on mouth, of the play of tongues and fingers against skin.

The hiss of breath through teeth when he'd grabbed Luke by his long, multicolored hair right at his scalp, the way it had made the slender man writhe in his arms. The flexibility of Luke's mouth compared to... David shook his head and concentrated on the taste of Luke's mouth, sweet, never any smoke, with crooked teeth that would snag the skin of David's lips.

Thinking about missing people, he thought of Morgan and the good stiff, heavy cuffs he'd given David as a farewell gift when they'd mutually and amiably parted ways after graduate school. The big blue flogger with the smooth, soft tails that could hit like a brick wall, and was another well-loved farewell gift. David missed how it hit, but hadn't trusted anyone as much as he'd trusted Morgan.

Too bad Morgan was now married to another man in Boston, and in a practice with seven other doctors. His partner led the field of cancer research, so it wasn't like David could fault him.

Luke was married too, but to a woman; and he was not only forty pounds heavier than when he'd been with David, but he'd given up on his musical career. Another bisexual that David had turned away from the long hard road of being publically identified as gay... and David suddenly realized he was right back where he'd started in his head.

At least he'd made some progress in reality. The brown hills rolled by, sometimes broken by water-covered rice paddies and vast agricultural tracts of watered green crop land, all planted in neat rows. The sky was blue and as dusty dry and empty as David's heart felt.

David finally caved, and plugged his iPhone into the sound system. One random song later, David found himself crying at the memory of hands wandering over his electronic piano in Seattle, so he pulled off at the next rest stop. He parked far away from all the other cars, and let himself just cry. When David could see again, he scrolled until he found an audio book on high-performance team management.

The book got him to the exit for Gilroy. There he headed west, then north on the 1, and soon drove by shops, houses, schools, and parks by the shimmer of ocean. Aptos was a typical tiny Northern Californian beach town, the water the main draw.

Out at the edge of town David pulled off onto a private road that headed into a canyon and came up a hill to a spiderweb of gravel driveways. Picking the third from the right, he found a sprawling white house with a pool and patio in back. Abe was out in the four-car garage, and he waved as David pulled up.

David rolled down the window. Abe tossed a set of keys into David's lap.

"You should find the guest house ready to go," Abe said. "How about you unpack as much as you want, and then we can go have dinner and talk?"

"Sure thing," David answered. "It'll be good to catch up again."

Abe grinned and waved him on, so he drove down another gravel driveway to a small guest bungalow. The key opened the door, and he found the one bedroom, full kitchenette, bathroom with soaking tub, and the small patio outside where he'd eaten plenty of breakfasts, all clean and neat, exactly as he'd last left them. David moved his boxes from the TT onto the kitchen table, the duffel of his daily things went into the bedroom, and he was done.

David looked around, satisfied.

Good friends, good work, what else could he ask for? This time David didn't stop to think as he headed back out the door.



Copyright 2010 by Phyllis Rostykus.
Tags: david, david_old, original, writing
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