SMS oneshot: Solace

[jiminee]

 Hey guys, this is a one-shot au I wrote as a birthday gift for tackytacs ^^
First time writing SMS, but I'm pretty happy with how I did, hope you enjoy <3

Kurt sat on his clifftop, hands buried in the soft grass and Wolfie by his side. The gentle thump thump of the dog’s tail calmed Kurt as he watched the road that wound below the clifftop. He never felt safer than when he was up here, high above the weary travellers and excited new explorers that moved occasionally from both east and west. He could watch, too, silently observing like a bird each person that came past, wondering about each story that followed the people like a trail. A history.

Kurt had been a traveller once, and he had his own history, but eventually his movement had come to a stop. Now he just watched, letting the invisible story of each person to pass below his clifftop home be a fleeting moment of solace in the loneliness of the small bubble he had built for himself.

Kurt didn’t go into the city at all. Seorsum, the capital of his country Otiem, was several miles away, and the houses thinned out just within the view distance of the clifftop. Kurt liked this; the houses marked the edge of his bubble to the west. The Margo Forest beginning a mile or so past the road marked his bubble to the north. To the east were the plains, a long, desolate stretch of road that faded on into eternity. Behind Kurt’s house, to the south, at the other side of the cliff was the ocean, crashing against the rocks mercilessly, no matter the weather. Kurt regarded his bubble with pride; he’d found a quiet spot in the world, a lull between areas of noise that comforted him. He’d built a little house on the clifftop and slowly grown this tiny kingdom until there were a couple of garden beds, a pen for animals, and a little path right out to the edge of the grassy side where he could sit with Wolfie and watch the road, the only thing that infiltrated his bubble. He was happy here. He could stay in this lull forever, and never make any contact but the imagined meetings in his mind.

Kurt saw no reason to be dissatisfied with his life, but there was still a persistent ache in the back of his mind. He’d come to ignore it most of the time, but at night, when the pounding waves in the distance mimicked his heartbeat, the ache grew so strong that he would go outside and stand under the stars just to feel numb in the cold night air. If the feeling was particularly bad he might walk a little further to the cliff edge on the south, just so he could let himself be deafened by the roar of the waves. It wasn’t comforting, but it worked.

Now, sitting on the opposite side of the cliff in the warm glow of the rising sun, the ache was hardly there. Wolfie helped, Kurt supposed. Watching the travellers did too. Kurt knew he had the option of making friends; it would be so easy just to walk down the zig-zagged steps that led down to the road and talk to somebody. But his skin grew cold at that idea and his head spun. No. He was content just watching.

“Hey!”

Kurt nearly jumped, his heart beating faster at the voice. He looked down at the road where a man stood, staring up at the cliff.

Kurt called down, “Hey.”

“Whatcha doing up there?”

Kurt balled his hands up in the grass. “Sitting,” he said. “Watching.” He willed the stranger to go away.

“Is that all you do?” the stranger asked, stepping so he was closer to the cliff. “I’ve seen you before.”

“You have?” Kurt squinted at the figure on the ground, trying to see if he recognised the man. The face was intriguing, even from this distance.

“Yeah. I’ve passed by here before and you’re always there, sitting up on your little clifftop and watching people.”

That was strange. People who went to Seorsum usually stayed there, and people who left Seorsum to explore in the east usually never came back. It was a long trip. Seorsum marked the end of a cluster of cities to the west, and most people never ventured out farther than that.

“You’ve passed here before?”

“Yes.” The stranger offered no further explanation. There was a silence, and Kurt was uncomfortable.

“Do you want to come inside?” he finally offered. “I have coffee, we can chat…”

He really didn’t want to, but it was polite. The stranger seemed to want to talk though. At the offer he hesitated, then said,

“Sure! I’d love to come in.”

“Stairs are over there,” Kurt said, pointing as he stood up. He watched as the stranger went to the wooden staircase and climbed it, zigzagging towards the top. Kurt realised he was shaking. As the stranger appeared at the top of the cliff, Wolfie bounded up to him, jumping to lick his face. Kurt laughed.

“Hello,” the stranger said, approaching. “I’m Zisteau.”

He shook Kurt’s trembling hand.

“Kurt,” Kurt said. He remembered the rules of social interaction – look him in the eyes, dammit! – and looked up, straight into a startling pair of eyes. There was a white scar lining the left cheekbone, parallel to his lower eyelid. He blinked. The face was smiling, and it took him a few seconds to retract his hand.

“Sorry,” he said awkwardly. “Come in, Zisteau.”

Zisteau nodded. “Sure thing, Kurt.”

Kurt led him towards his little house, between a couple of garden beds. He went into the kitchen as Zisteau sat down in one of his chairs in the living room.

Why did I invite this stranger into my house, Kurt yelled at himself within his mind as he put the kettle on. Even if he is attract- stop that. Kurt grabbed his mug from the bench and looked around for – oh. He didn’t have another mug. He sighed, and picked up a small vase that sat on the windowsill. He tipped out the dry, brown azaleas it held and washed out the vase, setting it on the bench beside his own. He has two differently coloured eyes.

“So are you the only person in these parts?” Zisteau called from the living room. Oh right, I should be making conversation. Stop being so antisocial.

“Indeed. I believe my house is the only one around for a few miles,” Kurt said.

“And you like that?”

“Yeah. I like being alone.”

“Right.”

There was silence again until the kettle boiled, whistling. Kurt took it off the stove and made two cups of coffee.

“How’d you like yours?” he called nervously.

“Coffee? Milk, no sugar,” Zisteau replied. Kurt nodded to himself, making coffee in the mug and vase. He opened his cupboard to see if there was anything else, something he might offer to the stranger. He couldn’t serve him just coffee. There was the small end of a rectangular cake, which Kurt supposed would have to do.

“Do you happen to have today’s newspaper lying around?”

The question from Zisteau as Kurt came into the room was so unexpected that Kurt stopped in his tracks. He recovered and placed the mug and the plate on the table.

“Er, no. I don’t get news.”

“Shame,” Zisteau said. “And thanks.”

“You’re very welcome.” Kurt said. He sipped his coffee from the vase, trying to look and not look at the stranger. He saw Zisteau glance at his unconventional drinking vessel, but he made no comment.

“Are you sure there are no other houses around here?”

Kurt shook his head. “The closest houses are on the outskirts of the city, to the west. To the east, there’s nothing but plains, and a few scattered villages, but they are few and far apart.”

“Damn,” Zisteau said. He frowned, looking into his mug.

“Do you need somewhere to stay?” Kurt asked tentatively.

Zisteau looked up. “I could stay here,” he said, “But then…”

Kurt reddened. He hadn’t really been offering to host the stranger, and yet here he was, inviting himself to stay.

“Yep,” the stranger said. “If it’s alright by you, I’d like to stay here for a couple of days. Just before it all blows over.”

“Before what blows over?” Kurt found himself asking. Dammit.

“Doesn’t matter,” Zisteau said.

Kurt sighed. “Fine. You can stay here. I’ll set up… I’ll..”

He wondered which shade of red he’d gone at the internal realisation that he only had one bed. He didn’t even have a spare room. It would be rude to make the stranger sleep on the couch. “I’m afraid I can only offer you my couch. Or, you can sleep in my bed. I’ll take the couch.”

“The couch is good enough for me,” Zisteau said. “As long as it’s fine by you, I mean.”

“It is fine,” Kurt said. He paused, almost not asking, but he was too curious. “Where are you going, anyway?”

“Away.”

“From where?”

The man chuckled. “Away from Seorsum. I don’t know where to.”

Kurt was suspicious. There were only two directions to travel: west, to Seorsum or out of the country, or east, across the plains. If you were planning on travelling across the plains, you had better know exactly where you were going. There was nothing out there but wind and grass forever, the scarce towns acting as small pockets of life. But you didn’t find the towns; you stumbled across them.

Then again, the stranger had stirred something in Kurt’s heart, and there was no way he would let Zisteau go just yet.

“So what do you do all day?” Zisteau asked later as they sat outside in the twilight, drinking scotch. “Aside from staring at strangers from your clifftop.”

“I garden,” Kurt said. “I farm. I’m mostly self-sufficient, you know. I like to look at the stars, too.”

“Look at them?”

“Well, look at the constellations. Plot their movements. I have a telescope.”

“What about the coast?” Zisteau asks, pointing over his shoulder with a thumb. “Ever go swimming? Fishing?”

“Lord no, that cliff is far too unsafe. There’s not really a beach.”

“Shame,” Zisteau said. Crickets chirped incessantly. Kurt looked up at the dimming sky. There were a few stars out, multiplying as the sun sank below the horizon. It was almost dark enough. He stood up and went inside, into his bedroom. On the nightstand was a small, brass telescope, its dark lens perfectly polished. Kurt took it back outside.

“This is what I use to look at the stars,” Kurt said. “And planets.” He put the eyepiece to his eye, tilting his head so the lens pointed towards the heavens. After a second or two adjusting the focus, Kurt could see a hazy cluster close to a large bright dot. He knew what that was. The cluster was the nebula Katoikia and the bright dot was the planet Isychia. It was far away. Kurt didn’t know the exact distance, but he knew that it would take years and years and years to reach if travel into outer space was possible at all. Kurt knew a lot about stars and planets. He knew that stars didn’t move, but the movement of his own planet made it appear that they did. He knew that constellations were made of stars millions of miles apart and despite that, humankind still wanted to organise them into pictures. He knew that planets moved, circling the sun because of her great gravity that drew everything around her in sweeping circles. He knew the universe was infinite and stars were uncountable.

He felt small.

“Zisteau,” he said, carefully passing the telescope over to the man beside him, “Look up there.” He pointed in the direction of Isychia. “That’s Isychia. It’s a planet.”

“Wow,” Zisteau said. “That bright, reddish dot?”

“Indeed.”

“I thought that was a star,” Zisteau said.

“It’s not. We know it’s not a star because its position changes relative to all the stars. It moves.”

“It moves?” Zisteau adjusted the telescope.

“It travels. It’s a wanderer. Just like we are.”

“You seem like the exact opposite of a wanderer to me, Kurt.”

Kurt chuckled. “I meant our planet. It’s moving through the cosmos too.”

“Where are we going?”

“Around in circles. Pulled by the sun’s gravity, who in turn is part of a huge galaxy – a cluster of stars – whizzing through the universe.”

Zisteau nodded, and handed back the telescope. “That was quite a sight,” he said.

“One day I hope to get a more powerful telescope. They’re expensive. But I would be able to see better.”

Zisteau tipped his head back and closed his eyes, listening to the distant roar of the ocean.

“I can see why you stay here,” he said.

“Can you?” Kurt turned his head slightly to look at his new friend.

“Yeah,” Zisteau said. He opened his eyes and took a sip of his drink. “It’s the only place in the universe that doesn’t seem to be moving.”

Kurt contemplated this. Zisteau was right. Between the endless busy of the city and the residential areas, the swaying trees and dark creatures of the forest, the incessant crash of the ocean’s tumultuous waves and the long, worn-down road from Seorsum to Apsen in the east, Kurt had created a pocket of stillness. It wasn’t just a bubble for him; it was for everyone. “That’s true. I like stillness.”

“Isn’t it boring?” Zisteau asked. “I mean, I like it too. There’s something magical about it. But you need some movement in your life.”

Kurt shrugged. “I have Wolfie.” At the mention of his name, the dog wagged his tail and pushed his head under Kurt’s dangling hand. Kurt patted the dog’s head. “He’s movement enough for me.”

Zisteau nodded. “You need people though.”

Kurt ignored the feeling in his heart and looked up at the stars again. The crickets continued their chirping forever as the distant waves crashed and the moon made her way across the sky.

Kurt turned in his bed. There was no sleep tonight; staying up late had made him tired, but now his thoughts raced. There was no stillness in his head, and even without a shirt the summer night was uncomfortably hot. He was thinking about Zisteau, and thinking about his bubble and thinking about the fact that Zisteau had been what was missing all along. His bubble had felt lonely because it was lonely. And Wolfie wasn’t enough, Kurt now knew. Even the dog’s lovable energy and companionship wasn’t enough. His star charts and gardening charts weren’t enough, either.

Zisteau was enough.

Kurt thought he had perfectly cultivated a life he loved, a life he could live forever in without change. But the gap he’d often just glossed over had suddenly been filled, and the aching realisation had come along with it. The realisation that he needed someone. The realisation that he was lonely.

Maybe it was the years of loneliness that made Kurt so intrigued by the first man allowed within his bubble, but Zisteau was something Kurt never wanted to lose. He filled the gap so completely that Kurt wondered if they were made for each other, then dismissed that stupid, romantic idea immediately.  He is a stranger. Don’t fall for strangers.

I’m not falling for him, am I?

Kurt silently cursed at himself and hugged his pillow, trying to sleep. The crickets droned on with the waves, a sound Kurt was so used to that he could make it disappear in his mind. I don’t know anything about him. I need to just stop, before I hurt myself. He’s going to leave in a few days, and

if I get too attached I will regret it forever.

“Wakey wakey!”

Kurt blinked and opened his eyes. The sun streaming through his window told him he’d slept in late, and he blushed. Zisteau was standing in the doorway with a ceramic bowl wedged under his arm, whisking something in it vigorously.

“Hunh?” Kurt mumbled as the light flooded his vision.

“I’m making pancakes,” Zisteau declared. Kurt sat up.

“Why are you in my room?”

“I’m not,” Zisteau said, whisking. “I’m in the doorway. I just wanted to see if you were awake yet.”

“O-kay…” Kurt said. He got out of bed, only remembering that he was shirtless after he stood up. He felt a blush run to his forehead and cheeks again. Zisteau said nothing, but when Kurt looked up, he was smiling.

“I can go if you want.”

Kurt nodded. Zisteau left the doorway and closed the door, and Kurt breathed out. He fumbled in his closet for clothing and quickly put them on, then headed out to the kitchen where a delicious smell was already lingering. I’m the host. I’m the one who should be so hospitable.  Zisteau was being too nice, and Kurt liked it.

During that cloudless day Kurt showed Zisteau his garden beds, and explained which plants were which and the troubles and successes he’d had breeding his own varieties. He showed Zisteau his planting charts and explained them. At some point he realised he’d been talking for what felt like hours, and was deeply embarrassed. But when he looked up Zisteau was staring at him with an intense concentration, and something in Kurt jumped at the idea that the man actually cared what he had to say.

That night Kurt cooked dinner and they ate it outside at twilight, sitting on the cliff edge to eat and watching the slow trickle of travellers to and from Seorsum. Zisteau said he understood the appeal now, the intrigue of watching people go by whilst you stayed still. They finished dinner and lay on the grass, watching the stars slowly move across the sky until both were too tired to keep their eyes open.

The next day, Zisteau taught Kurt how to make pancakes using Kurt’s wheat and butter and milk and eggs and the sugar he’d bought from Seorsum a long time ago. Even after Kurt burnt several, they still tasted delicious. Kurt showed Zisteau his animals and talked about them; every chicken and pig and cow. Zisteau nodded with interest as Wolfie bounded around their feet.

It hadn’t taken long for Kurt to notice Zisteau’s scars. Aside from the one on his face, Kurt spied a large one on Zisteau’s right leg. His hands were callused too, and bore countless small, fading scars. Kurt wondered if they were clues to his distant life, the past that Kurt tried so hard not to ask about.

Four more days passed, while Kurt tried not to think about the fact that he was falling for Zisteau.

One night Kurt pleaded for Zisteau to tell him more about himself. He wanted to know something, even if it was nothing significant. Zisteau was closed, and wouldn’t tell Kurt.

“I can’t,” he said, and was silent.

Kurt felt odd.

“I can’t begin to explain my past,” Zisteau said. “Don’t ask about it. I might tell you someday, but that’s a big ‘might’.”

Kurt could not stop thinking about it, but he held his tongue. Someday he will explain. What am I thinking? ‘Someday’ won’t come. He will be gone by ‘someday’.

Kurt slept little that night, his tossing and turning and worrying almost never stopping. Finally, sometime before the sun’s rays peeked past the horizon he fell asleep and had restless dreams about emptiness and noise and emptiness and noise and Zisteau.

“Your sleep schedule is weird,” Zisteau said over lunch the next day. Kurt had just woken, padding sleepily to the living room to join Zisteau. He’d blushed when he saw the man had already prepared a meal.

“It’s usually regular,” Kurt said, spreading butter on his bread. “Forgive me, I haven’t been a very good host.”

“No problem at all,” Zisteau said. “I haven’t had a regular home in quite a while, and it’s nice to play house for a bit.”

Kurt tried to look past the implications of that statement and eat his lunch. He concentrated on constructing his sandwich.

“Kurt,” Zisteau said.

Kurt looked up.

“Kurt, we should go to the beach.”

“The beach? It’s more of a cliff, really.”

“Yes, but it will be fun. It’s nice to explore the area you live in.”

Kurt finished making his sandwich and looked at it thoughtfully. “We should take a picnic then.”

Zisteau smiled, his face glowing. “That’s a good idea.”

Kurt looked at his hands, then got up from the table to find a basket for the picnic. His stomach felt warm as he packed food in the kitchen, including the sandwiches. He’d never really been to the beach, not with somebody else. He finished packing and folded a blanket neatly on the top.

“Ready?”

Kurt nodded, walking to the door. Wolfie bounded along as always, ever ready for a walk.

The path to the cliff edge was a thinly worn trail through the grass that covered the top of the bluff. Wind whipped Kurt’s hair into his eyes, and he shivered slightly at the bite of cold. Zisteau moved closer to him as they walked, and Kurt could feel his warmth. It sent a strange kind of thrill into Kurt to be that close to Zisteau. He didn’t want to linger on the idea too long, but the walk to the cliff edge, the wind and the sun, and the closeness felt remarkable to Kurt. He could feel the memory forming even before it had ended.

When they arrived at the cliff edge, Kurt pointed out the shoddy wooden steps that led down to the beach. It was narrow and rickety, and Kurt could feel anxiety riling up even as he looked at it.

“It’s ok,” Zisteau said. Kurt wondered just how easy it was for Zisteau to read him like that. Zisteau’s arm came close to Kurt’s and he felt a hand take his, just gently. Kurt’s whole arm tingled as he followed Zisteau to walk down the steps, Zisteau holding onto the railing and giving Kurt a barrier with his body from the dizzying drop to the beach below.

Zisteau could feel Kurt shaking, and gently squeezed his hand in reassurance. He hadn’t meant the trip to be like a date, not really, but he could tell it had become one. Something had formed between them in the week he’d been here, and he wasn’t ready to leave.

Not ready to leave now, or ever?

Zisteau looked sideways at Kurt, who had a smile on his face despite the fear. Not ever. Zisteau had fallen into this little world and he loved it. He’d been searching for a place for so long – searching for a home. Not just a place to live, but a place to stay.

Zisteau didn’t know if he was ready to talk to Kurt about his life on the run, but it came back to him often. If he did stay, he would have to tell Kurt about his life at some point.

They reached the bottom of the stairs, stepping down onto a narrow, pebbly beach with a tiny strip of sand before the water. Despite it being a sunny day the ocean was ferocious, the wind whipping up a spray that left the air damp with salt.

Kurt spread out the picnic blanket at the back of the beach near the cliff, safely away from the crashing waves. He unpacked the small spread of food and sat down as Zisteau did, unwrapping his sandwich slowly and looking at the angry sea.

“Zisteau,” Kurt said slowly. He didn’t want to say what had been weighing on him, but he wanted to say something. It was clear Zisteau did think of him as more than a friend, but what exactly?

“Yes?”

Kurt paused, looking at the ocean. It was a deep grey-blue, dark and terrifying and without stars like the night sky to light it up.

“I wondered…” Kurt fiddled with the hem of his shirt and had a sudden impulse. “Do you want to stay with me? I-I mean, live with me? Forever? If you don’t have a home that is, if you want to go on you can, but…”

Zisteau put a warm hand on his shoulder. “Kurt, I do want to stay! I do, very much.”

Kurt looked up a little. “Really?”

Zisteau nodded. “To tell the truth, I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I guess I never really wanted to leave. I need a home and, at first I thought it would be rude to just… overstay my welcome.”

“Don’t feel that way, i… I really want you to stay.”

The confession tumbled out and Zisteau smiled. “Then I will stay. Because I’m so sick of moving around, and I like it here with you.”  He paused, moving a hand to Kurt’s knee, then stopped. “But…”

Kurt’s heart fell a little. He could imagine what might come next.

Zisteau sighed deeply, looking around for a second before turning back to Kurt. “I can’t do that in good conscience without telling you that, well, I’m breaking the law. I’m not from here, not from Otiem.”

“Breaking the law?” Kurt’s heart lost something . He felt he trusted Zisteau less now, and the pain grew slowly in his chest, spreading out into his limbs.

Zisteau looked at the blanket beneath his crossed legs. “I am so sorry. I was in the army, not the Otiem army, the Aemul one.”

Kurt drew in a sharp breath. Aemul – the country neighbouring Otiem to the west – was known for its heavily militant state, and its strict laws regarding conscription. Kurt often wondered how Otiem could share borders with such a vastly different country, especially being as peaceful as it was.

“I – I was conscripted at the age of twenty, served ten years in the army until it broke me so much I had to run away. You are supposed to serve for fifteen years but I just couldn’t bear it. I hid in Aemul for two years until I was found again, was forced to fight for another two years but then I ran away again. I decided leaving the country was for the best. But running away from military service is a criminal offence, and doing it twice is even worse. I didn’t mean to stay in Otiem,  I was going to keep heading east.”

Kurt didn’t know what to think, he just stared at Zisteau. He understood his scars better now, and the way he was so detached from his past. Zisteau wasn’t just a drifter, he was a runaway, and he wasn’t really just running from the law. If he’d been in the army, he would have seen death – Kurt couldn’t even imagine it.

“Are they after you still?” he asked, almost unheard under the sound of the ocean.

Zisteau shook his head slowly. “I don’t really know. I always check newspapers to see if there’s anything about me in them, although men do run away from the Aemul army often enough that it’s not really news. They don’t usually escape for as long as I have though.” He paused for a second of thought. “But… those who have escaped to different countries often are found, because they were not provided safety.”

Kurt looked down at his hands, which were slightly trembling. “I don’t know if this country will provide you refuge. I don’t know about the laws.”

Zisteau let out a weighty breath, staring out at the horizon. “I’m so sorry. I should have told you earlier. I have been a terrible guest, and it weighs on me. I’m putting you in danger by being here.”

Kurt kept his gaze downcast. He was afraid for Zisteau now – afraid for himself. He wondered if there was a law against keeping a criminal in your house. Despite all that, Kurt still didn’t want Zisteau to leave. I like him too much. Even after that bombshell, I don’t want him to leave.

“Kurt… I can leave. I’ll continue east and you won’t ever be in danger.”

“But I don’t want you to leave!” Kurt blurted out. He brought his hands up to press them slowly into his eye sockets. His eyes stung with tears.

“Hey hey, Kurt are you okay?” Zisteau said with concern. Kurt felt a hand lightly on his knee and the warmth spread from it like a glow. “I won’t leave if you don’t want me to.”

“But what if it isn’t safe for you here?”

There was the sound of shuffling and Kurt felt Zisteau’s body heat closer to him than ever through his coat. He slowly moved his hands from his eyes and looked to see Zisteau sitting close in front of him. His eyes flicked down then up back to Kurt’s face.

“The truth is, both options pain me. I don’t want to put you in danger but if I leave, I might never see you again.”

Kurt moved a hand out slowly to touch the one that rested on his knee. “Stay.”

“Dammit!” Zisteau said, surprising Kurt. He turned his hand so it faced up to touch palm-to-palm with Kurt’s. “I like you too much. I have to stay.”

Kurt nodded, a small smile creeping onto his face. “I wouldn’t mind it – the danger – it doesn’t seem to be very large anyway. I doubt they’d look for you in a whole other country.”

“I didn’t go back to my family because that would put them in danger. Anyway, I knew they would be too ashamed of me to want me there…”

“Oh,” Kurt said softly. “I didn’t realise.” He wanted to reach out, and did so literally, touching Zisteau’s other hand gently until the other man accepted his grip. Both hands held, Kurt felt vulnerable.

“Are you absolutely sure,” Zisteau said, “that you want me to stay?”

“Yes!” Kurt said emphatically. “I l- I like you a lot, okay.” He felt a warm blush under his skin, but not enough that he cared about it.

The two sat on the beach for a while, not speaking much but just listening, until dark clouds greyed the sky, heavy with the threat of rain. Zisteau initiated the pack up of their small picnic, and they walked back up the stairs with the wind blowing around them, across the bluff back to the little house on the other edge.

Kurt made it warm inside, lighting a fire in the stove and making coffee in the kitchen while chatting to Zisteau as he prepared dinner. It was an unusually cold day that signalled that the end of summer was drawing near. Storms were not common in the area but the gradually increasing rain and dark clouds seemed to herald one.

Kurt wrapped his fingers around the mug and the vase, bringing the hot coffee into the dining room and calling Zisteau over. He watched the steam rise into the air.

“If you’re staying, I can’t have you sleeping on my couch forever,” Kurt said. The word ‘forever’ dropped into the air like a stone, and Zisteau looked up, faintly smiling.

“I- I’ll, build another bed. Or you could…” Kurt nodded his head silently to the back of the house where his bedroom lay, letting the unfinished sentence float for a second.

“Kurt, only if you want to,” Zisteau said slowly. “I mean, well. I don’t know…”

Each unfinished sentence was really just a question, both wondering it at the same time but not saying: What are we, really?

“We’ll sort it out,” Kurt said. He put down his mug and stared idly into the kitchen where he could see the rain pouring down through the window. It was good, the rain. Despite its sudden arrival and interruption of the seemingly perfect weather, the plants had needed it.

“This rain,” Zisteau said, sipping, “It’s incessant.”

“It will continue,” Kurt said. “And, it’s really not that bad. We needed it.”

“Don’t you ever travel?”

“What?” The question came unexpectedly, and Kurt paused to think. “I used to walk. I walked from countries to the east all the way here, but I stopped when I reached Seorsum, then came back out to this area.”

“So you have been a traveller. Why did you stop?”

Kurt let out a small breath. “I think I was looking for something. The perfect place. I’d been dissatisfied with where I lived and that’s why I travelled – to get away from the noise and the movement. And this place just drew me in.”

Zisteau smiled, a real smile now, his teeth slightly showing as he looked at Kurt. Kurt wasn’t sure if he could see fondness in Zisteau’s eyes or was just imagining it, but nevertheless the look made him turn his head slightly downwards.

“I was drawn here too. I did tell you that I passed by a few times? Honestly, I was looking for a place I could stay, but your house didn’t really register to me. You did. You were always there, watching. I didn’t find it weird, so I came back.”

Kurt had often thought he was easily missed, at least to everyone who had passed by before Zisteau. He refused to say that fate had brought them both here, but it still felt like it had.

There was a lull again, only broken by the rain’s constant noise. Kurt felt content with the silence, and the two men stayed in its warmth until their coffee cups were empty and there was nothing left to think about.

Kurt learned more about Zisteau over the following days, mostly about his time in the army. The scar on his cheekbone had come from an arrow that had grazed past his cheek, a close call that could have been deadly if a fraction closer. It was the only scar Zisteau regarded without distaste – he saw it as a mark of survival and chance. Other scars, though, he talked about less.

Kurt knew he had killed people.

The thought occasionally came to him with a slight coldness, soon waved away with the stronger thought that he’d only done it because he was forced to.

More days passed, with the rain never stopping. A storm came in, bringing down frightening thunder that rolled over the country and bright flashes of lightning that Kurt watched from his window with trepidation.

One night, when the storm was particularly bad, Kurt worried for hours about lightning striking a tree close to his home. He knew that the bluff’s elevated position from the land around it also put him at risk, and he tossed and turned in his bed under the sound of the rain overhead. Zisteau had tried to put his fears at rest and it had worked before, wrapped in blankets in the comfort of their closeness, but now that both were asleep the fear had come back.

Kurt did want Zisteau to sleep in his bed. No doubt it would help him sleep, and put his fears to rest. A bright shock of lightning flashed outside, and Kurt could see it even through his closed curtains. The boom of thunder rolled in a second later. Kurt turned over again. He wasn’t going to get any sleep.

When the door opened Kurt’s heart thudded and he stood up, quickly turning the lamp on. He was relieved to see it was just Zisteau.

“Are you okay?” Zisteau had to raise his voice to be heard over the storm.

Kurt sat up, bringing his blanket up to his chest.

“Y-yeah. I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep though.”

Zisteau came over and sat on Kurt’s bed. “I can’t sleep either. I thought we could talk instead.”

“But I’m tired.”

Zisteau turned to face him. “Can I sleep in here?”

Kurt’s heart jumped up a little more but he just blinked, staring for a second at the wall. “Sure. I’ll get you a pillow.”

“I brought mine,” Zisteau said, placing it on the bed beside Kurt’s. It was clear there would be room for Zisteau, but it would be very close. Kurt let Zisteau get in the bed and pull the covers over him before turning off the lamp, sliding back down to rest his head on his pillow. The rain sounded quieter now, as Kurt was more focused on the sound of Zisteau’s breathing as he seemed to slip effortlessly into sleep.

The creak of the door and a sudden chill woke Kurt. The rain had slowed a little and the thunder seemed to have stopped, although it was still pouring. It was dark too.

“Zisteau?”  Kurt leaned over to turn his lamp on to see Zisteau half through the door. “What- where are you going?” Worry filled him even though he knew it was probably trivial.

“I…” Zisteau paused, turning back to Kurt, who was shocked to see that tears shone in Zisteau’s eyes, brimming.

“Zisteau?” A lump came into Kurt’s throat, causing him to look down so the sight of Zisteau didn’t hurt him even more. He knew what Zisteau was sneaking out for. It was so early in the morning and he clearly hadn’t wanted to wake Kurt. “You were leaving?”

Zisteau looked at the floor. “I am so sorry Kurt,” he whispered. “I am in danger. You are in danger. I can’t stay here, it’s too close to Aemul. I wish I could but… The truth is, a week ago when you were in the backyard, I was out the front and saw a man on a wagon passing by, transporting newspapers from Seorsum… I made him stop and bought one, and saw that on one of the back pages there was a statement released by the Aemul army, of the names and faces of people who had escaped from the army. They have said we are probably hiding in neighbouring countries. People will be looking and I should have left much earlier than now. ” He shook his head and in the lamplight Kurt saw a tear roll down his face. It hurt his heart to see Zisteau in so much distress – something he had never witnessed before. He sat up, then, after a quick decision, swung his legs out of bed and walked over to Zisteau. If he really was leaving, Kurt was going to make sure he spent their last moments together as close as he possibly could.

Zisteau accepted Kurt’s spontaneous hug which bled tears onto Zisteau’s shirt shoulder. Kurt was slightly embarrassed that he sobbed a little, but when he heard the other man’s quiet crying in his ear. The mutual feeling of sadness surrounded them in a cocoon and Kurt wanted to stay there, because despite his despair Zisteau was there with him.

Zisteau pulled his face from Kurt’s shoulder after a while. “I really don’t want to have to go, Kurt I l -”

Kurt looked up, feeling his face heat but a slight jump in his heart as he understood.

He stared at Zisteau. Zisteau stared back, and Kurt felt something. He saw the mismatched eyes coming closer, but it only hit him once Zisteau’s lips were on his and he was kissing back that he was in love with Zisteau.

Something was new here. In the dim room, it was as if everything had brightened, like a light had been switched on. It was bigger than the kiss, and filled the whole room. It was like getting caught in the orbit of a star much larger than himself, after a lifetime of static floating in space. It was like finding home.

Zisteau pulled away and looked in Kurt’s eyes. Kurt realised how close they were now, how during the kiss their bodies had moved so close that all of his skin felt warm just from touching Zisteau.

“I have to go,” Zisteau said. His voice cracked.

No, don’t go. I need you, I need this. Stay here.

Kurt felt ready to cry again, but steeled himself and put his hand on Zisteau’s upper arm. He was not going to beg, not just yet, but he wasn’t going to let Zisteau leave.

A sudden thought entered his head, and he tried to forget it but it persisted. He couldn’t do that, it was too much. But -

“I’ll come with you. We can find a place that’s far away from here.”

Zisteau looked at him. “I’m trying not to put you in danger! I can’t have anyone with me. And anyway, this is your home. You love it here.”

Kurt brushed his forearm over his eyes. “I love you.” Oh I didn’t mean to say that. But it’s obvious, right?

Zisteau looked at him. “I- I know. I love you too.”

Kurt felt an odd tingle in his skin at hearing the words. “Then let me come with you. I know a place we can go, actually.”

Zisteau stayed silent for some time, his lips pressed together as he  looked at Kurt. “If you would be prepared to never come back home again…”

“I would be,” Kurt said. “Anyway, you’re more like a home to me than this house is. I could go anywhere.”

“Only if you are really prepared to, Kurt. Please don’t do this if you don’t want to.”

“I really want to,” he said. “Please. We can go north-east into the forest, it’s uninhabited and…” Kurt’s hand lightly brushed against Zisteau’s… “And it crosses into the next country if we need to go there. Nobody will look for you in there.”

“The prospect is tempting,” Zisteau said. “Go to sleep. I won’t leave until the morning, and if you still want to come you can. But now, you are too tired to make decisions.”

Kurt nodded, gently taking Zisteau’s hand and pulling him towards the bed. “You have to stay in here tonight, though.”

The next morning dawned without a hint of rain. The trees and grass were all soaked from the storm, but the sky had cleared and the sun was slowly drying everything. The world looked beautiful after the drenching, somehow greener and brighter.

Kurt still felt tired, but got up early anyway as Zisteau did to pack his small amount of possessions into his bag. Kurt remembered the decisions made last night, and it jolted his stomach. He went outside to look at his plant beds and animals, then slowly walked over to the animal pens and one by one unlatched the gates. The cows stood still, chewing grass, but Kurt was happy that they would be able to leave if need be.

Maybe some time I will come back to this place, he thought, looking around at the grassy bluff and the trees, dripping with last night’s rain. Maybe someone else will make this their kingdom.

He gave one last look at the garden then turned back inside to pack his things. Zisteau was already ready, sipping coffee from the vase they had long ago decided to alternate with using. He handed a steaming mug to Kurt, who accepted it gratefully.

“You packed?”

Kurt smiled into his coffee cup. “I never said I decided to come.”

“Oh.” Kurt looked up as Zisteau’s face fell.

“But I am coming,” he said hastily. “This place is lovely, and it has the stillness but – so can anywhere, really. I think we can make another home somewhere safer and it will be just as beautiful as we decide to make it.”

“Wise words,” Zisteau said, his face breaking into a grin. “I… I’m so glad you decided to come with me. I was afraid you were too attached to here.”

“Didn’t I tell you I used to be a traveller?” Kurt said. “It will be a whole new experience now I have someone to travel with.” He sipped the coffee and watched the swirls of steam dissolve in the air. “In any case, I haven’t packed yet.”

He finished the coffee, then went into his room to pack a small bag. He didn’t put much in it, just some clothing, food, a bottle of single malt scotch, and essentials. He added a few packets of seeds he had saved from previous harvests, and his telescope and star charts. For a new start. Kurt imagined them making a home somewhere in the forest, far away from civilisation. The bag almost didn’t close, but when he was done Kurt turned towards  his bedroom for the last time and closed the door.

Wolfie bounded up to Kurt as he came out. “We’re going on a walk,” Kurt said down to the dog. “A long walk, another adventure.”

The dog wagged his tail. Kurt stood by Zisteau and took a deep breath. “I’m ready.”

“Let’s go then.” Zisteau put the now-washed, empty mug and vase into his bag and headed for the door. When they were outside Kurt closed it behind them, then stood back to look at the little house once more. He was afraid and excited to leave it.

“You sure?”

“Yes.” Kurt said, and turned his back to the house. He felt Zisteau take his hand, and lead him towards the small set of stairs that led down to the road. Wolfie bounded excitedly around them as they reached the base of the cliff.

Hand in hand the pair crossed the road and, in the light of the new day’s sun, walked into the vast, unfathomed green of the forest.

Comments

[ruddiestbubbles]

I absolutely loved this!!!!

[(Anonymous)]

That was fantastic! I love SMS stories, and this is a really good one! I loved it. Good job.

-the lurkiest lurker