Follow Every Rainbow 3: Silence And The Song
For a long time they sat there together, not speaking, just feeling the beat of their hearts slowly pounding in perfect time with each other. Christian did not weep, but kept his face hidden against Olivier's shoulder, just resting in the warmth and nearness of him.
At last, when the silence had stretched a bit too long, Olivier pulled away, keeping his hand on Christian's shoulder. "You do not know what a great gift you have given me," he said finally.
Christian smiled. "You do not know what a great gift you are to *me*," he said, leaning forward intimately. "Now that I have discovered you, I do not think I could let you go."
He lifted a hand to Olivier's face, drawing a light finger across his lips. "You look like your mother in so many ways, and yet, you are unique and so very beautiful in your own right."
Olivier trembled at the tender touch. "I have only known you for a few hours, and I cannot bear the thought of parting with you," he said. "You lived so vividly in me as I read that work of yours, and my head is spinning with visions of beauty and terror."
"We should go see Harold Zidler," Christian said. "He will know the answers to your questions about your own place in Satine's life, far more than I could."
"Tomorrow, then," Olivier said. "You will take me to see him."
"Of course," Christian answered, and rose from the bed. "It's getting late indeed." He walked over to the window, where the sounds of revelers at a nearby bar seemed to be winding down.
"I should go home," Olivier said, not sounding much like he wanted to leave.
Christian turned back to look at him. "Yes," he said. "You should."
"I don't really want to," Olivier said, standing up.
Christian gave a small laugh. "Oh, you -- I don't want you to either, but..." He looked soberly at him. "We -- not yet. Wait. Find out everything first, and then we'll see."
Olivier glanced downward for a swift moment at Christian's words, then looked up at him again and took two steps to his side. "Don't forget me between the night and the dawn," he said, putting his arms around Christian.
Their lips met in mutual agreement, a quiet kiss sealing their stammered words. All too soon, Olivier drew back.
"I'm leaving now," he whispered, kiss-close to Christian. "Tomorrow."
Christian breathed in a deep breath as Olivier let go, and let his head fall back, white marble in the moonlight, leaning against the window, as Olivier slipped out the door.
He closed his eyes and let the joy come bubbling back from long-forgotten places, tunes and words spilling over his heart, a new song.
"Climb every mountain," he sang just under his breath to a simple tune. "Ford every stream. Follow every rainbow, until you find your dream."
For a long time they sat there together, not speaking, just feeling the beat of their hearts slowly pounding in perfect time with each other. Christian did not weep, but kept his face hidden against Olivier's shoulder, just resting in the warmth and nearness of him.
At last, when the silence had stretched a bit too long, Olivier pulled away, keeping his hand on Christian's shoulder. "You do not know what a great gift you have given me," he said finally.
Christian smiled. "You do not know what a great gift you are to *me*," he said, leaning forward intimately. "Now that I have discovered you, I do not think I could let you go."
He lifted a hand to Olivier's face, drawing a light finger across his lips. "You look like your mother in so many ways, and yet, you are unique and so very beautiful in your own right."
Olivier trembled at the tender touch. "I have only known you for a few hours, and I cannot bear the thought of parting with you," he said. "You lived so vividly in me as I read that work of yours, and my head is spinning with visions of beauty and terror."
"We should go see Harold Zidler," Christian said. "He will know the answers to your questions about your own place in Satine's life, far more than I could."
"Tomorrow, then," Olivier said. "You will take me to see him."
"Of course," Christian answered, and rose from the bed. "It's getting late indeed." He walked over to the window, where the sounds of revelers at a nearby bar seemed to be winding down.
"I should go home," Olivier said, not sounding much like he wanted to leave.
Christian turned back to look at him. "Yes," he said. "You should."
"I don't really want to," Olivier said, standing up.
Christian gave a small laugh. "Oh, you -- I don't want you to either, but..." He looked soberly at him. "We -- not yet. Wait. Find out everything first, and then we'll see."
Olivier glanced downward for a swift moment at Christian's words, then looked up at him again and took two steps to his side. "Don't forget me between the night and the dawn," he said, putting his arms around Christian.
Their lips met in mutual agreement, a quiet kiss sealing their stammered words. All too soon, Olivier drew back.
"I'm leaving now," he whispered, kiss-close to Christian. "Tomorrow."
Christian breathed in a deep breath as Olivier let go, and let his head fall back, white marble in the moonlight, leaning against the window, as Olivier slipped out the door.
He closed his eyes and let the joy come bubbling back from long-forgotten places, tunes and words spilling over his heart, a new song.
"Climb every mountain," he sang just under his breath to a simple tune. "Ford every stream. Follow every rainbow, until you find your dream."