Fsking muses
Dec. 26th, 2007 09:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
maderrGenerally when I finish a story, either I (very rarely) already have in mind what I want next to write, or (most often) I am left feeling vaguely lost for a bit.
When left bereft, generally I A) need a day or two off (this usually only happens with long and/or really difficult stuff) 12) have only to open up my story folder and something catches the fancy of my muses or IX) I find out the hardway I'm not as done with the verse I just finished as I thought.
I finished Sharing yesterday and thought that's that. Dusted my hands off and cracked open my story folder.
Only to go to bed frustrated that nothing was working...and five minutes after I laid down this came to me:
Trevor was in love with Richard.
The problem was that Richard barely knew he was alive.
Richard signed his paychecks, every now and then he actually seemed to really see Trevor. Not for very long, however, and it always seemed perfunctory, automatic. Like maybe he didn't really see Trevor after all.
There were, Trevor had determined after many a day of pondering and sighing, three main reasons Richard would never notice him in a million years.
One, he was human.
Two, he was a boring human.
Three, he was an unattractive, boring human.
Sighing softly, Trevor finished drying off the last of the plates and put it with the others, then closed the cupboard. Draining the sink, he scrubbed it clean, and finished the kitchen by giving all the counters one last wipe down.
As Richard's housekeeper, his duties included cleaning, shopping, and taking care of Richard's pets. The latest had been finished with only the previous day, and Trevor had seen him well fed before the vamps took him off to toss him back into the sea of normal life.
Thinking of the discarded snack drew out another sigh. A pretty young man, with cinnamon curls and pale blue eyes. Trevor tugged dismally at his own straw-blonde hair and wished his stupid eyes were anything except boring hazel. That he had a build that appealed to Richard, since being a swimmer apparently wasn't good enough. That he had more color to his skin or something, but working for a vampire meant not so much time in the sun, really.
The clock on the wall chimed six o'clock, and a moment later Trevor heard the brush of a door against carpet. No other sounds reached his ears, but not a minute later Richard appeared from the hallway, padding slowly toward the bar that divided the kitchen from the sitting area.
He slid onto a barstool and yawned.
Trevor hastily looked away, focusing on his chores, going through cabinets and cupboards to see what he needed to buy at the store later that day. If he snuck glances here and there…well, he was only human.
Richard was definitely worth looking at. He always was...but now more than any other time. Everyone and anyone saw Richard polished and pressed, sharp and shining. All the parties he hosted, all those he attended – Richard cut a fine figure, dominating the nightlife of his small slice of California.
Yet Trevor had always thought him far more appealing in these brief moments. The one thing Richard did not do well was wake up – it took him at least an hour before he was well and truly awake, and if he had two hours that was infinitely preferable.
There was nothing sharp and calculating about this Richard. His hair was a mess, scattered in twenty directions after Richard scrubbed a hand through it. The dark blue pants and tank top he wore clung to his slender frame, rumpled from sleep. Best of all were the eyes – soft and muddled while Richard slowly joined the waking world, a deep, warm brown rather than the almost black they usually were.
Normally Richard sat there for a half hour or so before he began to stir. If he was in the mood to feed, he'd summon his latest pet to snack. Usually, however, he just moved to the sitting room and stretched out on the couch for another half hour.
Anyone else, that would have been going back to sleep – but Richard actually seemed to wake up while he lay there.
Lately, however, that hadn't been the routine at all. More often these days, he simply gave up with being awake and went back to bed.
Ever since the hunter Richard had wanted had chosen someone else, Richard had not been the same. Trevor hadn't had a party to clean up after for going on two months now, and where Richard usually preferred to keep his pets around for at least three months, these days he kept them maybe a week before insisting upon a change.
He wasn't playing in the slightest. Everyone saw Richard as a cruel and calculating playboy…but Trevor wondered how much of that was genuine. Oh, he wasn't crushing so bad he saw no wrong in the vampire of his affections. Richard could be an asshole, and often was one with relish.
Still, it was hard not to see some good in a guy who looked borderline adorable draped mostly-asleep across the countertop, and who paid all his people well, and never minded their taking days off. Richard threw his lavish parties, but he took care of the guests who attended. His pets were well treated, if thoroughly used. He was a hard ass, no doubt there. Trevor had seen too many hurt and angry ex-lovers (ex-amusements, Richard called them) to deny that…but still.
Part of him wished Richard had gotten the hunter he was obviously upset over losing…mostly, though, he was selfishly relieved. Richard would never be his, the idea of him noticing his lowly little human housekeeper was laughable, but at least Richard didn't really belong to anyone else either.
Trevor pushed up his glasses and pulled open the drawer that held his miscellany, grabbing out a notepad and pen, jotting down the stuff he needed to buy, notes for errands he needed to run.
He started to leave the kitchen, but hesitated. No talking was the usual way of things. He'd never dared break the silence, and Richard certainly wouldn't when he was still for all intents and purposes asleep. "Anything you need while I'm out, boss?" He jumped at the sound of his own voice, and that just made him feel stupid. He could feel his cheeks burn – and they only got hotter when Richard actually looked at him.
Not much, really. Richard had his head propped on his upper arm, the forearm draped over the top of his head. He didn't move his head, but his eyes flicked to regard Trevor for a moment.
Then he simply turned away, shifting to pillow his head on both arms.
That would be a no, then. Trevor stifled his disappointment. What had he really expected?
- - -
I really hope after this story I'm fracking done with this verse. There is shit I need/want to get back to >_o
When left bereft, generally I A) need a day or two off (this usually only happens with long and/or really difficult stuff) 12) have only to open up my story folder and something catches the fancy of my muses or IX) I find out the hardway I'm not as done with the verse I just finished as I thought.
I finished Sharing yesterday and thought that's that. Dusted my hands off and cracked open my story folder.
Only to go to bed frustrated that nothing was working...and five minutes after I laid down this came to me:
Trevor was in love with Richard.
The problem was that Richard barely knew he was alive.
Richard signed his paychecks, every now and then he actually seemed to really see Trevor. Not for very long, however, and it always seemed perfunctory, automatic. Like maybe he didn't really see Trevor after all.
There were, Trevor had determined after many a day of pondering and sighing, three main reasons Richard would never notice him in a million years.
One, he was human.
Two, he was a boring human.
Three, he was an unattractive, boring human.
Sighing softly, Trevor finished drying off the last of the plates and put it with the others, then closed the cupboard. Draining the sink, he scrubbed it clean, and finished the kitchen by giving all the counters one last wipe down.
As Richard's housekeeper, his duties included cleaning, shopping, and taking care of Richard's pets. The latest had been finished with only the previous day, and Trevor had seen him well fed before the vamps took him off to toss him back into the sea of normal life.
Thinking of the discarded snack drew out another sigh. A pretty young man, with cinnamon curls and pale blue eyes. Trevor tugged dismally at his own straw-blonde hair and wished his stupid eyes were anything except boring hazel. That he had a build that appealed to Richard, since being a swimmer apparently wasn't good enough. That he had more color to his skin or something, but working for a vampire meant not so much time in the sun, really.
The clock on the wall chimed six o'clock, and a moment later Trevor heard the brush of a door against carpet. No other sounds reached his ears, but not a minute later Richard appeared from the hallway, padding slowly toward the bar that divided the kitchen from the sitting area.
He slid onto a barstool and yawned.
Trevor hastily looked away, focusing on his chores, going through cabinets and cupboards to see what he needed to buy at the store later that day. If he snuck glances here and there…well, he was only human.
Richard was definitely worth looking at. He always was...but now more than any other time. Everyone and anyone saw Richard polished and pressed, sharp and shining. All the parties he hosted, all those he attended – Richard cut a fine figure, dominating the nightlife of his small slice of California.
Yet Trevor had always thought him far more appealing in these brief moments. The one thing Richard did not do well was wake up – it took him at least an hour before he was well and truly awake, and if he had two hours that was infinitely preferable.
There was nothing sharp and calculating about this Richard. His hair was a mess, scattered in twenty directions after Richard scrubbed a hand through it. The dark blue pants and tank top he wore clung to his slender frame, rumpled from sleep. Best of all were the eyes – soft and muddled while Richard slowly joined the waking world, a deep, warm brown rather than the almost black they usually were.
Normally Richard sat there for a half hour or so before he began to stir. If he was in the mood to feed, he'd summon his latest pet to snack. Usually, however, he just moved to the sitting room and stretched out on the couch for another half hour.
Anyone else, that would have been going back to sleep – but Richard actually seemed to wake up while he lay there.
Lately, however, that hadn't been the routine at all. More often these days, he simply gave up with being awake and went back to bed.
Ever since the hunter Richard had wanted had chosen someone else, Richard had not been the same. Trevor hadn't had a party to clean up after for going on two months now, and where Richard usually preferred to keep his pets around for at least three months, these days he kept them maybe a week before insisting upon a change.
He wasn't playing in the slightest. Everyone saw Richard as a cruel and calculating playboy…but Trevor wondered how much of that was genuine. Oh, he wasn't crushing so bad he saw no wrong in the vampire of his affections. Richard could be an asshole, and often was one with relish.
Still, it was hard not to see some good in a guy who looked borderline adorable draped mostly-asleep across the countertop, and who paid all his people well, and never minded their taking days off. Richard threw his lavish parties, but he took care of the guests who attended. His pets were well treated, if thoroughly used. He was a hard ass, no doubt there. Trevor had seen too many hurt and angry ex-lovers (ex-amusements, Richard called them) to deny that…but still.
Part of him wished Richard had gotten the hunter he was obviously upset over losing…mostly, though, he was selfishly relieved. Richard would never be his, the idea of him noticing his lowly little human housekeeper was laughable, but at least Richard didn't really belong to anyone else either.
Trevor pushed up his glasses and pulled open the drawer that held his miscellany, grabbing out a notepad and pen, jotting down the stuff he needed to buy, notes for errands he needed to run.
He started to leave the kitchen, but hesitated. No talking was the usual way of things. He'd never dared break the silence, and Richard certainly wouldn't when he was still for all intents and purposes asleep. "Anything you need while I'm out, boss?" He jumped at the sound of his own voice, and that just made him feel stupid. He could feel his cheeks burn – and they only got hotter when Richard actually looked at him.
Not much, really. Richard had his head propped on his upper arm, the forearm draped over the top of his head. He didn't move his head, but his eyes flicked to regard Trevor for a moment.
Then he simply turned away, shifting to pillow his head on both arms.
That would be a no, then. Trevor stifled his disappointment. What had he really expected?
- - -
I really hope after this story I'm fracking done with this verse. There is shit I need/want to get back to >_o
