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delgaIn honour of my having FINALLY finished not only writing but typing up The Fic, please have another tidbit. This is now with my beta so it will be up in full for you to read by New Year. It's 25k in total (!?!?!?!?!?), so give my beta a chance to mow through it, yeah?
Dusty, stiff with sweat and days-long exhaustion, Dimitri all but falls into a cab. Unthinkingly he directs the driver to the east of the city, not south, and is surprised when they pull to a stop outside Tariq's apartment. After paying the cab fare, Dimitri stands on the pavement and looks up to where he thinks Tariq's window is. There is a key rattling amongst the loose change in his jeans, slipped hastily into his pocket from the drawer in his desk on the grid where he had left it before leaving for Yemen. A split-second decision, but a weighty one nonetheless. The metal is warm in his hand and despite the chill winter air, Dimitri is sweating. He remembers Tariq leaving it on the kitchen counter for him, between inhaling his coffee and searching for his bag, too casual to be anything less than a meaningful gesture. It was still on the table when Tariq came back from the front room, but Dimitri had quickly snuck it into his pocket, terrified at the prospect, but unwilling to let Tariq rescind the offer, unspoken though it was.
Should he go up? Tariq is probably sleeping; he's spent the week trundling through footage sent to Section D from the Sister Service's man in Damascus, and Dimitri knows from experience that it's gruelling work. For all he knows, Tariq isn't even up there. Maybe he should knock? But, no, it would wake him if he were asleep, and he'd look at Dimitri askance and ask what happened to the key. He should go home. He is going to go home. Any moment now. Definitely heading back. Right...now.
The key turns easily in the lock, and Dimitri pads in gingerly, trying not to smack his case on the door frame. He leaves it against the wall in the hall, and turns towards the bedroom when he hears a noise from the back room. Cautiously heading in that direction, he steps carefully around Tariq's furniture until— yes, there's a glow from beneath the door to the workroom. Dimitri shakes his head with wry amusement; he's still awake. About to head through, the door abruptly swings open, startling him. "God—!"
"What the—?"
Tariq startles too, though he has more reason to be surprised. He drops his phone, and there's a moment of confusion as he tries to work out if he should be scared and where the hell he's lost the phone. Dimitri bends to retrieve it.
"This is why you can't have nice things," he says, handing it back.
"You scared me!"
"You scared me!" Dimitri laughs, his pulse still racing. "I'm back," he adds redundantly.
"So I see," Tariq says, stepping into Dimitri's space with a smile to press a kiss to his lips. "You need to shower."
Dimitri raises an eyebrow. "Trying to tell me something?"
"You stink."
"Charming."
Tariq laughs. "Go take a shower, then come to bed. You must be knackered.”
It’s true, and Tariq reminds him of the fact. Dimitri’s tempted to forego the shower but he knows he’ll regret it come morning. “I’m sorry it’s so late,” he says, turning to retrieve his bag. “I didn’t mean to give you a fright.” Saying it out loud makes him doubt himself again. “I’m sorry. I should have gone home.”
“Dimitri,” Tariq says, his voice soft, but the tone lightly exasperated. “I gave you the key so you could use it. Just, Jesus, warn me next time? Text or something.”
“Right,” Dimitri says, sheepish. He nods towards the bathroom. “I’m going to—”
“Sure,” Tariq says, waving him off. “I’ll be in once I’ve shut everything down.”
Whilst Dimitri showers, Tariq puts his PC to sleep, checks the doors and windows, then readies for bed. He grins when he sees Dimitri under the shower spray, but leaves him in peace, brushing his teeth then heading back to the bedroom. Dimitri would be disappointed but the week is catching up with him. He turns off the water, quickly towels off, then changes into an old tee and his boxers.
When he pads into the bedroom, Tariq is already under the covers, He’s rolled onto his side, blanket tucked around his shoulders, all the way down to his ankles, his feet sticking out from under the covers. For someone who feels the cold so keenly, Tariq always complains of being too hot when he sleeps. Dimitri thinks of where he was a few nights ago, Selam pulling him from the furious Yemeni crowd. His nostrils had been thick with dust, the air hot and metallic. He’d fought her instinctively, sure he could see Haitham disappearing into the throng. He can reach him, he can, let go of me, he remembers thinking, I can get him—and then Haitham was gone, and Selam was all but dragging him away, her fingernails cutting into his skin. He runs a hand over his arm, still able to feel the marks she’d left behind. A sign of mercy, he thinks, something to remember her fortitude.
Should he go up? Tariq is probably sleeping; he's spent the week trundling through footage sent to Section D from the Sister Service's man in Damascus, and Dimitri knows from experience that it's gruelling work. For all he knows, Tariq isn't even up there. Maybe he should knock? But, no, it would wake him if he were asleep, and he'd look at Dimitri askance and ask what happened to the key. He should go home. He is going to go home. Any moment now. Definitely heading back. Right...now.
The key turns easily in the lock, and Dimitri pads in gingerly, trying not to smack his case on the door frame. He leaves it against the wall in the hall, and turns towards the bedroom when he hears a noise from the back room. Cautiously heading in that direction, he steps carefully around Tariq's furniture until— yes, there's a glow from beneath the door to the workroom. Dimitri shakes his head with wry amusement; he's still awake. About to head through, the door abruptly swings open, startling him. "God—!"
"What the—?"
Tariq startles too, though he has more reason to be surprised. He drops his phone, and there's a moment of confusion as he tries to work out if he should be scared and where the hell he's lost the phone. Dimitri bends to retrieve it.
"This is why you can't have nice things," he says, handing it back.
"You scared me!"
"You scared me!" Dimitri laughs, his pulse still racing. "I'm back," he adds redundantly.
"So I see," Tariq says, stepping into Dimitri's space with a smile to press a kiss to his lips. "You need to shower."
Dimitri raises an eyebrow. "Trying to tell me something?"
"You stink."
"Charming."
Tariq laughs. "Go take a shower, then come to bed. You must be knackered.”
It’s true, and Tariq reminds him of the fact. Dimitri’s tempted to forego the shower but he knows he’ll regret it come morning. “I’m sorry it’s so late,” he says, turning to retrieve his bag. “I didn’t mean to give you a fright.” Saying it out loud makes him doubt himself again. “I’m sorry. I should have gone home.”
“Dimitri,” Tariq says, his voice soft, but the tone lightly exasperated. “I gave you the key so you could use it. Just, Jesus, warn me next time? Text or something.”
“Right,” Dimitri says, sheepish. He nods towards the bathroom. “I’m going to—”
“Sure,” Tariq says, waving him off. “I’ll be in once I’ve shut everything down.”
Whilst Dimitri showers, Tariq puts his PC to sleep, checks the doors and windows, then readies for bed. He grins when he sees Dimitri under the shower spray, but leaves him in peace, brushing his teeth then heading back to the bedroom. Dimitri would be disappointed but the week is catching up with him. He turns off the water, quickly towels off, then changes into an old tee and his boxers.
When he pads into the bedroom, Tariq is already under the covers, He’s rolled onto his side, blanket tucked around his shoulders, all the way down to his ankles, his feet sticking out from under the covers. For someone who feels the cold so keenly, Tariq always complains of being too hot when he sleeps. Dimitri thinks of where he was a few nights ago, Selam pulling him from the furious Yemeni crowd. His nostrils had been thick with dust, the air hot and metallic. He’d fought her instinctively, sure he could see Haitham disappearing into the throng. He can reach him, he can, let go of me, he remembers thinking, I can get him—and then Haitham was gone, and Selam was all but dragging him away, her fingernails cutting into his skin. He runs a hand over his arm, still able to feel the marks she’d left behind. A sign of mercy, he thinks, something to remember her fortitude.
--
Earlier this week I went to see We Need to Talk About Kevin. It's masterfully put together, and the cast was brilliant (SWINTON \o/), but, fuck me, it's miserable. Also, I went with co-workers. Um. Interesting.
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Date: 2011-11-06 07:00 am (UTC)“Dimitri,” Tariq says, his voice soft, but the tone lightly exasperated. “I gave you the key so you could use it. Just, Jesus, warn me next time? Text or something.”
♥ !
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Date: 2011-11-06 07:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-06 10:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-06 10:51 am (UTC)Thanks, hon.
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Date: 2011-11-19 05:14 pm (UTC)(and, i miss you. sorry i've been a bit of an anti social douche the past few months. <333)
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Date: 2011-11-20 06:22 pm (UTC)Hiiiiiii! I don't think we have spoken since Edinburgh, which is criminal. How are you?
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Date: 2011-11-21 10:35 pm (UTC)been meaning to get into spooks one of these days, ever since i heard richard armitage is on the show (i'm weak). never got around to it though. so is this fic of yours as epic as it sounds? is it original characters set in the universe of the show or are you using existing characters and making new plots (or doing a missing scenes sort of thing)?
and yeah, i think it really has been that long, except for some fb contact (have to thank you again for reccing him, i wish you could've been with us). sorry x infinity about edinburgh, the circumstances (read: me) weren't optimal at the time, still want to bang my head when i think about what i put you and ro through. still, glad i met you finally and talked a bit f2f. hopefully next time i wouldn't be such a wet blanket (a girl can dream). by the way, i still have a scar, though i've washed my hair since....