Dave Henderson (devotee) wrote in forgotten_gods, @ 2009-11-29 00:38:00 |
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Entry tags: | dave henderson, marijuana |
me and you, baby/still flush all the pain away
Who: Marijuana and Dave Henderson, disjointed narrative.
What: Their ninth anniversary.
When: Saturday, November 28th.
Where: Dave's apartment.
Warnings: Drug use, very minor sexuality.
Dave rubbed at his eyes, glancing up at Marijuana disbelievingly as the god set down a plate piled high with bacon, eggs, pancakes, and, of course, little sausages. "You don't honestly expect me to eat all this, do you?" Voice rough with sleep, having just rolled out of bed when Marijuana had showed up at his apartment, Dave shoved the plate away from him.
"I expect you to try." Marijuana's eyes were a mix of soft and hard, of begging and ordering, as he pushed the plate forward again. "Here, let me..." He trailed off, his eyes losing their focus and going bright glowing green for a moment. For an even shorter moment, Dave's eyes glowed the exact same colour of green before fading back to their dishwater dull tone. Marijuana's power flooded the mortal's mind, Marijuana doing his best to give his second a wicked case of the munchies.
Dave managed to eat a single bite of bacon and a mouthful of eggs before he lost his appetite again. Marijuana, weaker in effect than his older brother-husband, simply wasn't enough to keep his second hungry and healthy anymore and he just ran regretful fingers through Dave's hair before sitting beside him and eating Dave's breakfast himself.
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"And as he closed his eyes, one hand clinging to that of the god who had saved him all those years ago, one hand clinging to that of the god who had stolen his lover away from him, Lucas had time for one last thought before death took him. Everything; the trials, the tragedies, even the abuse of his Step-Father, it had all been leading up to this moment. This one moment in time when his body shook, trembled, and was finally, finally, blissfully, peacefully still. The light smile that remained on his cooling lips was testament to the fact that, in the end, it had all been worth it, worth it to catch just a single glimpse of immortality."
Dave's hands trembled as he closed the tattered notebook, setting it carefully on the coffee table and looking up at down at Marijuana, who was spread out on the couch, his head resting in Dave's lap to listen to the recitation of the book Dave had written. "Mari?" Dave hardly ever used the diminuitive form of Marijuana's name, out of respect for the god, but if anyone deserved to call him by the name that only those closest to him were permitted to use, it was Dave.
Eventually, as Dave reached down to thread a worried hand through Marijuana's hair, the god opened his eyes to gaze up at his second. "I never stopped loving you, you know. Never, through any of it. If I could have loved you and him, if we had been able to reconcile those loves, we could have..." Marijuana trailed off and Dave just smiled sadly, leaning down to press a soft, innocent kiss to Marijuana's lips. "I know. Don't feel guilty."
Marijuana had arched up just a bit, leaned up into the kiss as if continuing it for hours could have kept Dave with him, kept him alive. But that was a pipe dream and slowly, he sat up, shaking his head. "How can I not feel guilty? If I hadn't antagonized the Phonoi, they wouldn't have killed me and you wouldn't have shot up for the first time in eight years. If I hadn't fallen in love with Heroin, I could still be with you and I could be saving you right now." Marijuana reached out, wrapping his arms around Dave's too-skinny waist and clinging for all that he was worth, his face buried in Dave's neck.
Dave just shook his head. "It's alright. I don't blame you. You gave me so much. Nine years of life, of love..." Marijuana looked up at him tearfully and Dave knew what his boss needed. Stroking Marijuana's cheeks gently, Dave leaned in again, pressing kisses to his boss' cheeks, the curve of his jaw and, finally, his lips. "I absolve you, Marijuana. I absolve you of any guilt." Dave took a shuddering breath, clinging just as tight to the god who had been the center of his whole world for so long. "I absolve you."
It was what Marijuana needed to hear.
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Marijuana had brought over some of the leftover stuffing from Thanksgiving but it sat forgotten on the coffee table, next to Dave's novel, as the god and his mortal indulged in a classic struggle of skill and will. When it was over, Marijuana threw down his controller and grinned at Dave. "I will be the Halo King forever, Davey-boy!" Dave tossed his own controller down in mock frustration and shook his head. "But you've yet to beat Cam! You aren't the king!" Marijuana rolled his eyes, reaching out to dance his fingers along Dave's harshly jutting rib bones. "Say I'm the king, Davey, say it!"
Dave, not one to take any sort of tickling lightly, went for Marijuana's own ribs and it was in a cacophany of giggles and laughter that they ended up on the floor, gasping for breath, pleading with each other for the cessation of the movements that had them laughing hysterically. "You're the king, you're the king!" Dave gasped out, wriggling under Marijuana, too distracted by the giggles welling up in his throat to do much of anything other than capitulate to his boss' need for a constantly stroked ego. "Damn straight." Marijuana growled as he leaned down, nipping at Dave's lower lip.
The gasp that the movement drew from Dave was different than the gasps that had been drawn from Marijuana's tickling and for a moment, the two just stared at each other, breathing heavily and well-aware that their bodies were pressed together. For Dave, it was a perfect moment. For Marijuana, it was perfect temptation.
Eventually, Marijuana rolled off his second and offered Dave a hand up.
"Another round?"
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Marijuana had left to have a late dinner with Heroin - it seemed like spending the whole day with Dave didn't really mean spending the whole day with Dave - and when he slipped back into Dave's apartment, the mortal was leaning against the frame of the open window, slowly exhaling marijuana smoke from the joint between his lips as he watched the setting sun. Smiling lightly, Marijuana stepped up behind his second, an arm wrapping loosely around Dave's waist, chin resting on Dave's shoulder. "Whatcha thinking about, Davey?"
Leaning back against his boss, Dave sighed lightly, almost happily, as he closed his eyes, allowing himself to be comforted by the scent that was purely Marijuana; bittersweet smoke mixed with dirt, the lingering tinge of cigarettes laying just under the tang of after-shave. "Sunsets, sunrises. The cycles you love so much."Marijuana smiled softly, just nodding and letting Dave continue to speak. "You know, when Jake died, all those years ago... I mourned. But life went on, business went on. I became the second and flourished at the role." Marijuana broke in. "The cycle continues, Dave, but you will never be forgotten-"
Dave shook his head. "That's not what I'm worried about. You've left your mark on me and I know I've left a mark on you and that..." Marijuana smiled sadly and finished Dave's sentence. "That you will be immortal forever, eternally remembered and loved by one who cannot die."
Dave nodded before continuing. "I'm worried about Cam. He's good, possibly too good, at his job. And he's handled the roles of the second-in-command well when he's had to, for a few days at a time. I just... I want you to be well taken care of when I'm gone. You've got-" Dave swallowed, hard. "Heroin, you've got your husband. But who will-"
Marijuana interrupted him again. "Davey, don't spend the next few weeks fretting over what will happen when you're gone. The Highway business will continue. Cam, you've trained him well." Marijuana threaded a hand gently through Dave's hair. "Just... relax. Love me, love Dylan, and do the final edit of your book, alright?"
Dave shifted anxiously. Marijuana tightened his arms around his mortal. "Alright, Marijuana. Whatever you say."
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Both kneeling on Dave's bed, Marijuana glanced down at the two needles resting between them. Again, the movements were second nature to them both as they prepared the heroin. The spoon, the lighter, the tourniquet and then, foreheads pressed together, the needles slid into their heavily scarred arms in unison.
Dave fell forward against Marijuana, who could only groan in pure pleasure as he felt his husband's substance begin to absorb into his bloodstream, shooting straight up into his mind. Dave's own groan echoed Marijuana's and for a long moment, they just held each other, held each other up while getting lost in chemical bliss.
"It's worth it." Dave mumbled; worth it to die for this pleasure.
Marijuana nodded. "It's worth it."
Dave pretended not to know that Marijuana meant it was worth it to lose him to be with Heroin.
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Snuggled up under the sheets and with Marijuana's strong arm wrapped around his weak frame, Dave closed his eyes and shifted closer to the constant warmth that was Marijuana. "Stay?" Marijuana, drowsy himself despite the knowledge that he couldn't stay the night, just wriggled lightly against Dave, nuzzling down into his neck. "'Til you fall asleep, Davey-boy."
It wasn't enough, wasn't what Dave really wanted, but he'd learned months ago that, these days, he'd never get what he really wanted. "'Kay." He murmured, fingers trailing lightly down Marijuana's back. "Tell Heroin I said hi, alright?" The corner of one of Marijuana's lips quirked up slightly. "I will. Now go to sleep, Davey-boy. Get some rest. You more than deserve it."
Dave murmured wordlessly, happily, and drifted off to sleep. Marijuana just held him and, eventually, dozed off for about an hour. But he woke, ever-so-quietly sneaking out of Dave's bed to slink back across the street and slip into bed with Heroin, not speaking, just curling up with his husband, resting his forehead against Heroin's shoulder.
When Dave woke up in the middle of the night, reaching for warmth and love that wasn't there, he breathed in the lingering scent of his God and curled on in himself as a tear ran down his cheek.
Across the street, a matching tear rolled down Marijuana's cheek.
He wiped it away quickly before rolling over to smile lightly up at his husband.
Across the street, Dave reached for yet another needle.