Southern Values and Californication
Chapter 3
"We'll do it all We don't need If I lay here I don't quite know Those three words If I lay here Forget what we're told
Everything
On our own
Anything
Or anyone
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me
And just forget the world?
How to say
How I feel
Are said too much
They're not enough
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me
And just forget the world?
Before we get too old
Show me a garden
That's bursting into life…"
~~ Snow Patrol "Chasing Cars"
Hound pressed his mouth to Mirage's unsure of what to do or how to touch his lover, fearing to disappoint. An ice cold gaze turned hazy as Mirage smirked and guided his hands to his chest and his rear. Hound whimpered and buried his face in the pale column of Mirage's throat, watching his own hands as they slid under the blue button-down shirt, feeling the tight muscles and skin of the older boy's chest. Mirage moaned and curled his arms around Hound's neck, hooking a slender leg around broad hips. Hound felt himself getting hard as Mirage fondled the front of his jeans, the albino gasping and throwing his head back when Hound slid a hand over his ribs.
"Mirage…" Hound whimpered, pressing their hips together. Mirage gave a soft chuckle and pressed his chest upward, rolling them until Hound was-
THUD!
Hound's head shot up as he fell to the floor, having rolled out of bed in the throes of his dream. Mussed up green hair fell into the tanned boy's face as he looked around, rubbing his eyes sleepily. He was sitting on the floor of his bedroom, sheets tangled around his legs and blankets discarded on the complete opposite side of the bed. He looked at his alarm clock, the bright red numbers looking like smug eyes as they proclaimed that it was an hour before he had to get up.
Hound flopped back onto the floor with another loud "thud", running his hand over his face wearily.
He should not have been having a dream about Mirage. He shouldn't have dreams of any guy! Hound sighed, crossed himself* and stood, looking down at himself. He usually didn't sleep with anything on but he decided that it would be a wise decision to put on some clothes before he left the room, even though nobody short of God would be up at three in the morning.
Pulling on a pair of boxers and some overalls, Hound crept through the halls to the kitchen, intent on getting some milk and maybe a cookie if he could hunt down his mother's stash. He was surprised to see the dim light of the refridgerator on in the kitchen and carefully snuck up to the doorway, peering in curiously. His eyes widened in surprise.
"Mirage?" The name slipped from his mouth, causing Mirage to jump and turn to look at him, a gallon of milk in hand as he straightened.
Hound's gaze instantly dropped to the low slung sleep-pants that Mirage was wearing, seemingly locked on the delicate yet sharp looking hip bones that were exposed near the slender waist.
"Ahem." Mirage glared as Hound removed his gaze, closing the fridge door and walking over to a counter. "Where are your glasses?" He mumbled, placing the plastic jug of milk on the counter.
Hound didn't say anything, blushing and opening a cabinet to pull out two glasses. Mirage poured the milk into the two glasses and they drank in silence for a few minutes before Hound spoke.
"You should be in bed." He murmured.
"So should you." Mirage sneered. "What are you, my mother?"
Hound looked away, looking around the kitchen, trying to figure out where his mother would hide her cookies. She had just baked a batch two days ago so he knew there were some…
"What brought you up this early?" Mirage asked, more to fill the silence than any real concern. Hound shrugged.
"Dream." Mirage nodded at the answer, taking another sip from his glass.
"What are you looking for?" He asked, noting the other boy's searching gaze. Hound paused before smiling sheepishly.
"My mother hides her cookies… She just baked a batch a couple of days ago and I'm trying to find out where she hid them."
Mirage smirked and walked over to the sink, flipping open the cabinet to the left of the sink and rummaging around inside. Hound's eyes widened as a plastic jar was procured from the cabinet, filled with chocolate-chip cookies. Mirage pulled out a cookie and handed it to Hound.
"How did you-?" Hound began but Mirage simply shrugged.
"I'm nosy." He stated simply and Hound left it at that.
The silence lasted slightly longer this time and Hound finally broke it.
"You really should get back to sleep… I'm going to be doing chores in an hour anyway, you need to sleep." He ate his cookie in a few bites, downed the rest of his milk and rinsed out the two glasses. "Breakfast is hot and on the table at eight if you want it." Mirage stared at the other boy blankly for a moment before nodding.
"Thank you." Hound turned at the soft reply, but Mirage was already gone. The tanned boy sighed and slumped against the counter, running his hands through his hair.
Being around Mirage made a primal desire in the pit of his stomach flare to life, pulling at his heart strings violently every time he caught sight of that self-assured smirk. Their kiss had only made these feelings grow and Hound found himself longing for the contact again. Why had he kissed him in the first place? Sure it had felt really, really good and he hadn't really been thinking completely straight (that sounded wrong) but he should have just pulled back instead of pushing on…
Which was just wrong!
Hound grabbed a chunk of his hair and growled to himself, pressing his forehead to the nearby cabinets. The cold wood did little to soothe the burning ache in his chest and head, the two battlefields continuing their civil war within his body.
His heart was telling him that it didn't matter, that even if Mirage was a boy it was okay, that in the end gender didn't amount to anything. His head, on the other hand, was echoing words like "Sodomite", "Faggot" and "Fairy" in his mind.
"Maybe Mirage isn't like that." Hound reasoned with himself, rubbing his eyes. "Maybe he's straight…" Though Hound doubted it.
At the moment, Hound doubted himself as well.
"What are you doing, Hound…" He murmured to himself, unaware that Mirage was leaning against the wall just outside the kitchen, listening to him move around before he went back to his guest room.
The albino boy sighed and lay down on the small, twin-sized bed, curling his arms around his pillow as he frowned at the wall.
He really didn't need to be getting attached to the hick. Hound was below nothing to the world that Mirage came from and if Mirage got too attached he would seriously consider trying to convince Hound to go back to Los Angeles with him. And if Hound went back with him then there was no telling what his parents or the public would say to that…
Besides, he would be gone in a couple of weeks at the most; it just didn't make sense for him to form any attachment to anyone in the small town…
Did it?
"Let's waste time I need your grace If I lay here Forget what we're told All that I am I don't know where If I lay here
Chasing cars
Around our heads
To remind me
To find my own
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me
And just forget the world?
Before we get too old
Show me a garden
That's bursting into life
All that I ever was
Is here in your perfect eyes
They're all I can see
Confused about how as well
Just know that these things
Will never change for us at all
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me
And just forget the world?"
~~ Snow Patrol "Chasing Cars"
Footnotes:
"Crossing" one's self is when someone will touch their forehead, the center of their chest then each shoulder with their pointer and middle fingers. It is a tradition that Christians use both in prayer, to protect themselves from evil and to ask for forgiveness from God.