Archive of Our Own ^beta

Los Angeles sounded different. Smelled different. Even the daylight was different.

Dawn was on the edge of breaking, and a soft coral glow touched every corner of the boxy white motel room, giving it a pleasant aura. Redd could hear no birdsong, but he heard traffic.

He got out of bed, tossing the still-crisp bedsheets to cover the dent he’d made in the mattress. The other bed remained lumpy, as Lohn slept on in silence. Redd couldn’t sleep any more; he needed a cigarette.

On his way back from the bathroom, he bent down and dug into his luggage to get a t-shirt, then pawed into the pockets of the jeans he’d half-folded last night. He found his lighter, but came up with an empty cigarette packet. With a whispered swear, he clawed back his long, tousled hair, and looked urgently around the room for Lohn’s stash.

Cool relief covered him when he saw Lohn’s box of Malboros lying on the nightstand between their beds. Redd left the empty packet under the nightstand’s lamp, and pried out a fresh cigarette.

Lohn sighed in his sleep. Redd glanced down and saw Lohn’s dark lashes batting over his round cheeks, perhaps disturbed by the shadow Redd had cast over him. Lohn mumbled something incoherent, and his blanket sank down a little, exposing the rest of his face.

Redd smiled, head tilting to see Lohn fully.

He looked exhausted. He tried not to show it when he was awake, but he was as stressed as Redd was about their move to L.A.. Maybe more. Redd still had ties back in North Carolina; a family; he had reasons to return and a place to go if things didn’t work out. He had a cousin here in California. Lohn had nobody here, nor there; everything seemed to rest on the roll of a dice, the flip of a coin, his trust in Redd.

But here he was anyway. Trusting.

This would work out. They’d make it. Redd wouldn’t let Rabbit Lightning fail, not with Lohn counting on him. They’d make music people would want to buy.

Lohn’s breath fluttered a bit, distressed, and Redd suspected he was having a nightmare. He was prone to bad sleep, and had been more so in the last few weeks. Redd considered waking him, but he worried Lohn wouldn’t go back to sleep now the sun was coming up. He needed rest.

A lock of Lohn’s black bangs had fallen across his pale forehead, and his eyelids were twitching, tickled by the hair. Redd hesitated, but then reached to brush back the lock, wanting him to sleep on. He tucked that hair behind Lohn’s ear, then let his hand return to his side.

But Lohn was frowning now, and let out a small whimper, unhappy.

Redd crouched down, and reached to graze the pad of his thumb against Lohn’s cheek, hoping to soothe away any anxiety. “Shhh,” he hushed, knowing Lohn would hear him. Under his breath he uttered, “Everything’s fine, man.”

He touched Lohn’s lower lip, plump and pink and quivering, trying to make it go still. It squished gently under his touch, and Lohn’s face relaxed completely.

Redd again wondered if he ought to wake him. They could get an early breakfast before they headed out to explore their new home.

But Lohn had settled down now, and he might sleep another three hours. Redd had no desire to steal that from him. He looked at his thumb on Lohn’s mouth, and very carefully lifted it away.

In some other world, some other life, he might’ve kissed Lohn before he left his side. But he only looked at him for a little longer, feeling affection. He smiled to himself, then reached for the orange-tinted aviators on the nightstand, and put them on before heading to the balcony, unlatching the sliding glass door and stepping out, cigarette lighter in hand.

One thing was the same. A Los Angeles breeze at dawn was as warm and humid as all the breezes Redd had ever known.

A gust of air covered Lohn, and he woke with a deep inhale that pushed on his ribs. The exhaust fumes from the roads interlocking this motel weren’t kind to his nostrils, but they were a good reminder; life was changing at last. The future was ahead. Redd was with him.

Lohn’s eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light of the pink sky beyond the balcony windows, and soon he could focus on it. Airplane trails streaked the view, while Redd’s seven-foot silhouette blocked everything else but the tops of a few palm trees, their shadowy fronds fluttering gently in the breeze.

Redd lit a cigarette, and leaned down on the balcony barrier, looking towards the sun as it rose. He took each drag on his cigarette slowly, lost in thought in between.

Lohn curled his fingers and touched knuckles to his lips. He still felt a touch there, the echoes of a kiss. He searched for the dream he’d been having, trying to remember, but it was already gone. All he remembered was Redd’s lips on his own.

It seemed like a strange thought, but Lohn wondered... Did you really kiss me?

He was sure he’d felt something. He’d been awake enough to know it was Redd opening and shutting the balcony door, nobody else. He knew Redd had been close by. He’d heard his voice.

Redd wouldn’t have kissed him... would he? He was plenty affectionate when it came to words, but he rarely tried to offer touches, and was hesitant to accept them.

Maybe it was too complex of a thing to ask for. Lohn knew there were times he wanted things from Redd he didn’t know where to begin to converse about. Maybe in the moment, an urge took Redd over, and he... he just wanted to see what it was like? Just one kiss...

Lohn’s body flooded with warmth and pleasure, tingly and bright. He stroked his lips, smiling. But then disappointment followed his delight, and a sinking, sad feeling grew in the pit of his stomach, dismay that he’d missed being kissed. The memory wasn’t even a memory, just a blur of a half-faded dream. Who was to say it was even real?

He’d been dreaming. That was the only thing that made sense.

Lohn sat up in bed, sullen. God, he needed a smoke.

He trudged to the bathroom in his boxers and bare feet, scratching at his head. Lost in a sleepy haze, he relieved himself, then washed out his mouth with cold water. He sniffed hard, blinking back lingering sleep. He left the bathroom feeling halfway between refreshed and foggy - but upon opening the balcony door, he was taken over with excitement, mesmerised by the view: sun on the line of the horizon, Redd’s long hair dancing in the wind, light shining on his beard as he turned to see Lohn approach.

“Thought you were asleep,” Redd uttered, offering Lohn his half-burned cigarette.

Lohn took it and placed it between his lips, rolling a shoulder. He rested his forearms on the round metal bar of the barrier, looking down at the traffic and the blocks of buildings, and the beach glittering in the light, far, far beyond. He breathed in smoke, and pried out his cigarette again, blasting a hopeful gust of white out into the world, watching it scatter to nothing on the breeze.

Lohn looked down at their cigarette, turning it so the burning end was cupped over his palm. He flipped it again, watching the red-hot line sear brighter as the wind caught it.

“Did you know,” he said, voice dry and rough, not yet ready to be used, “back in the day, the golden age of Hollywood, or whatever folks call it, they weren’t allowed to show indecent things to the public. Violence, and babymakin’, and kissin’, and that. That stuff.”

Redd gazed at Lohn, intrigued. “That’s what you woke up thinking about?” He smiled, shaking his head, eyes on their new world. “Anything goes in Hollywood these days, man. We’ll find the right people for our songs. Might take time, but we’ve got time.”

“Yeah.” Lohn took another long drag, eyes on an airplane that passed overhead, silent, but starting to be audible. “But you know what they did? Filmmakers, and such. They’d... They’d show shadows instead. Or two people, like, sharing a drink from the same bottle.” Lohn handed back the cigarette, and Redd took it, tapping the ash into the pink oblivion before them. “Sharin’ a cigarette.”

Redd glanced over, a sunrise flash on the rim of his aviators. “What?”

Lohn smirked, and the smirk became a grin, high on one side of his face. He liked how shaken Redd looked. “Yeah,” Lohn teased. “It would be like me and you were makin’ out right now.” He elbowed Redd’s side, chuckling. “Go on. Put it on your lips.”

Redd turned his head down, embarrassed. “I’m not— Gih— Did you really have to—”

“Go ahead and kiss me, Rabbit,” Lohn purred, head turned to hover over Redd’s shoulder and the thin cotton t-shirt he wore. “Right on the mouth.”

Redd was blushing. “Come on, man.” He looked away, shaking his head. “It’s just a cigarette. Don’t make it weird.” He put the cigarette between his lips and sucked, refusing to look at Lohn when he cackled. When Redd parted his lips again, white smoke came pouring out, and a smile twitched there.

Lohn touched Redd’s hand, wanting the cigarette before it burned down, and Redd let him take it, fists curling as soon as their hands were no longer in contact.

“Mm,” Lohn sighed, eyes shut to enjoy the nicotine rush. He relaxed against the barrier, and against Redd. “You kiss real nice, man.”

“God,” Redd uttered, rolling his eyes away. “You’re messed up.”

But, not three seconds later, he started to chuckle, and grinned over at Lohn. He watched Lohn put the thing back in his mouth, and smirked, amused by it all.

Lohn lowered the cigarette, fingers pinching a fleck of paper from his lip. He flicked the speck away and breathed out, then inhaled deeply, lungs filling with unfamiliar aromas. Amidst it all, he could smell fresh donuts. Hot sugar. He liked how it felt, being here, starting a day this way. The first ray of sun warmed his face, gradually turning from a touch to a beam; no harsh lines, just the slow dispersion of a shadow.

Lohn let Redd take what was left of the cigarette, supposing Redd would finish it.

“Do you ever think about that stuff?” Lohn asked, eyes on Redd’s hands, then on a nearby palm tree, which nearly had colour now. “Kissing other men.”

Redd coughed out smoke. He caught Lohn’s eyes, and coughed again, thumping a fist to his chest. Lohn grinned and reached to pat his back a few times, and Redd settled, then waved to make Lohn stop hitting him.

Lohn rested on the barrier, arms loosely folded, waiting for an answer.

Redd shoved the last of the cigarette at Lohn in lieu of a reply. He didn’t look at him.

Lohn figured Redd had been thinking about it. There were plenty of reasons they’d wanted to leave the South, and some of them - most of them - were unspoken.

There was so much unspoken. They’d gone their whole lives together sharing everything they could - food, toys, girlfriends, magazines, movies, music, hours and hours and hours of games and laughter and singing - but shared almost nothing about themselves aloud unless they needed to. The most important things they shared were unspoken. They knew certain facts implicitly. Like the fact they were moving here together. There was never any question about it.

But, while there was no question, there was no answer, either.

Lohn wanted an answer.

“I like the idea,” he said.

Redd glanced over. “Of what?”

Lohn shrugged, not looking back. “Of kissin’ a man.”

Redd’s fists curled tight. Slowly, they released, but then curled around the barrier instead. “Oh.”

There was a long silence, filled with a faint cop siren, the sweet shrieks of seagulls, the tussle of the wind passing through palm fronds. Someone shouted from the street, and someone else laughed.

Then Redd asked, “To clarify... do you mean a man in general? Or did you, uh... mean... me?”

Lohn smiled, head down. His heart was fluttering. He shrugged a shoulder, pursing his lips playfully. “I figure I’m more discerning than takin’ any old mister off the street, now,” he said. He elbowed Redd’s bicep. “But if a guy I liked happened to ask for somethin’ to happen between us... Well, I... I wouldn’t say no.”

He gulped as he finished speaking, suddenly fretful that Redd wouldn’t ask.

Seconds kept passing, and Redd wasn’t saying anything.

Lohn started to worry he’d chosen the wrong moment to come out.

He checked on Redd, and to his relief, Redd was just lost in thought, gazing absently at the view and the blinding light of the rising sun, not tied up in consternation.

“I always heard that people out in L.A. are more accepting of that stuff,” Lohn said assuringly. He watched the cigarette burn out as it reached the brown filter, and he tapped off the ash of the wasted last quarter-inch, losing the flecks to the wind. “I figure I’ll—” He turned his head down, hesitating. But he chose to say what he wanted to say. “We’ll be more comfortable here.”

Redd’s hands were still clutched on the metal barrier.

Lohn, concerned, reached to touch his knuckles to Redd’s wrist. Redd sniffed and looked over sharply, then his gaze darted about, lips parting to speak words that never formed.

“Are you okay?” Lohn asked.

Redd frowned and nodded. “Yeah! Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” He made a gruff noise and muttered, “We oughta go buy breakfast, since you’re up. I was thinking Cinnabon. There’s one around here someplace, I can smell it.”

“Yeah. Fine by me.”

“Right.” Redd finally let go of the barrier with one hand, but not the other. “Yeah. I— I’m, uh...”

Lohn turned halfway, wondering whether to go inside. Redd seemed so unsettled. Seeking to comfort him, Lohn reached to touch his chest - but stopped short, remembering Redd didn’t always take kindly to touches.

The irony almost hurt, didn’t it, imagining maybe Redd had felt more comfortable kissing Lohn without asking first, when he couldn’t give a yes or a no. Suddenly it didn’t seem certain that Lohn had dreamed what he’d felt when he woke. Maybe Redd had kissed him for real.

Redd was fighting to say something he couldn’t say; the words kept tripping up his tongue, and he barely got so much as a stutter out.

“It’s— Thing is, I’m—” Redd sighed, flinching at himself. “Uh.”

“What?” Lohn asked gently. “Just say it, man.”

Redd turned his head down, shaking it. “Hmm.”

Lohn let his hand make contact with Redd’s chest. It heaved under him as Redd sucked in a breath.

Taking a chance, Lohn drifted even closer, looking up at his taller friend. Redd met his gaze, a terrified desperation in his expression. Lohn had never seen Redd look at him that way. But he wasn’t resisting, he wasn’t arguing; he just stood there, breathing heavily, looking deep into Lohn’s eyes.

Enough of this.

Some things would remain unspoken.

Lohn stood on his tiptoes, took Redd’s bearded jaw in his hand, and kissed him gently on the lips.

Redd sniffed in shock - then sighed and kissed back with an urgent pressure, nudging in, wanting, wanting. Except he froze up a second later, and pushed Lohn away with a scowl on his face. Lohn stepped back, hands up in surrender.

Redd forced out a laugh, then swallowed hard. He looked tense, and wouldn’t hold Lohn’s gaze.

“Cinnabon,” he said, finally meeting Lohn’s eyes. “Yes or no?”

Lohn took a moment to relax, but nodded.

Redd pushed out a breath through narrowed lips. “Alright. Good.”

He passed Lohn and opened the door to go inside. Lohn was left dizzy with overwhelm, unsure what to think. He looked back into the motel room, shadowy beyond the reflective glass, then he looked back out at the sky, which was lilac now, as blue blended into the peach.

The warmth of the sun grew on Lohn’s bare chest, and as his heart warmed, he sank into contentment. This was his and Redd’s world now. They’d make it their own.

Redd pulled the last cigarette from Lohn’s packet. He and Lohn had been so distracted by everything to see and visit and taste and sing about in their new city that they’d forgotten to buy new smokes. It was only dawn; Redd had time to stop by the 7-Eleven on the corner and pick up another pack or two before Lohn woke up.

Redd put the cigarette in his mouth and looked around for the lighter, either his own or Lohn’s, but neither was on the nightstand. He crouched down and checked the carpet, lifting the draped bedcovers on his side, then on Lohn’s, but didn’t see it. Maybe he’d left it in his jeans—

“Hmm...” Lohn stirred in the bed. Redd lifted his head up to see him, and saw Lohn peering back, smiling.

Redd dropped the cigarette from his mouth into his hand, and greeted Lohn with, “Hey, sleepin’ beauty.”

Lohn grinned, stretching his arms up and showing his underarm hair. “Hey. Did you kiss me awake again?”

“Again?” Redd asked. He chuckled, confused.

“Yeah,” Lohn hummed. He sat up, dopey-eyed, messy-haired, stubble on his jaw and a lopsided grin growing up his face. “Like yesterday.” He bent a knee and rested his bicep on it, tousling back his hair with a hand. His eyes twinkled. “Kind of a shame you don’t stick around, though. I hate that I keep missin’ it.”

“Missing what? I never kissed you besides that one time yesterday. And if I recall, you were the one who did that. I had nothing to do with it.” Redd knelt down and looked under the bed properly, and uttered, “There you are,” when he found Lohn’s floral-pattern lighter about half a foot under there.

“You didn’t?” Lohn said. He sat up properly now, looking lost. “Don’t— Don’t lie to me, though. You kissed me while I was sleepin’.”

Redd gave Lohn a baffled look. “Why would I lie to you? And why would I kiss you without asking first, either? That’s not right, man.”

Redd stood up and put the cigarette back in his mouth. “I’m taking the last one, come join me if you want to share. We’ll buy more on the way to the beach.”

“You... didn’t kiss me.”

Redd paused rather than turning away. He looked down at Lohn, who looked back, upset. Redd stared, at a loss for how to comfort his friend.

“What’s the problem?” Redd asked. “What am I missing?”

Lohn hesitated, then shook his head. “No. No, it’s nothin’— I’m half asleep. Just. Gotta get my head on right. I’ll be out in a minute, go light up.” Lohn swung his legs out of bed and Redd backed up to give him room. When Redd didn’t leave him completely, Lohn tapped Redd’s chest with the back of his hand and said, “Don’t look so concerned. Everything’s fine.”

“I’ll be concerned if I want to be concerned,” Redd uttered. He shook his head and went to the balcony door, opening it up to a waft of stifling, bitter air. “Don’t tell me you’re fine when you’re not. Now who’s lying?”

Lohn paused in the entrance to the bathroom, looking over guiltily. He frowned, and turned away to shut the door.

Redd waited for him on the balcony, flicking at the lighter, summoning a spark and sometimes a flame, but never touching it to the cigarette.

Eventually Lohn snuck out to the balcony, just wearing his boxer shorts. He tucked his hair behind his ears and stepped up to join Redd. Redd looked at him carefully, trying to discern how upset he was, and what about.

“Are you going to explain, or do I need to ask?” Redd said.

“I’m... sorry,” Lohn replied, voice shaking a bit, then going steady when he gulped. “Yesterday I... Man! I really and truly thought you... you know... wanted to kiss me.”

“Okay?” Redd paused. “Hang on, how do you mean that?”

Lohn hung his head, embarrassed. “Truth is, I’m the one who wanted that. In fact, I know I was. I must’ve been fast asleep and dreamin’ when I— I thought you kissed me. I thought that’s why I woke up. That’s why I started talkin’ to you about all the stuff I mentioned. Bein’ interested in men, and all’a that. I thought you were just scared to admit to my conscious face that you wanted me.”

Lohn’s breath shuddered, and he covered his face with both palms, growling softly. He revealed his face again and looked out into the yellow sky. “I’m sorry if I confused you, Rabbit. I’m real sorry. God, I’m useless. If it suits you, it might be best if we never speak of this. It would be more comfortable that way. For me, in any case.”

Redd sighed. He put the cigarette down on the flat bit of metal under the barrier, and he rested his arms on the bar instead.

“You’re not useless,” Redd said.

Lohn snuffled a shy laugh. “Right.”

“You’re not.” Redd managed a smile, and cast it in Lohn’s direction. “You were right about a few things in your little speech, there.”

“Like what?” Lohn asked, almost accusatory.

Redd chuckled. “Well.” He cleared his throat, head down, looking away. He steeled himself, scrounging up the bravery he knew was somewhere within him. The man he wanted to be was so close; he just needed to jump inside.

Redd turned his head towards Lohn, but couldn’t meet his eyes. “You were right about one thing in particular. We should never speak of this.”

Lohn deflated. “Oh,” he said, in a small voice. He swallowed. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s fine. Who kissed anyone? Not me. It’s forgotten. Nothin’ intimate ever happened between us.”

“No...” Redd tilted his head, trying to make Lohn meet his eyes. Lohn did, and Redd dared not look away now. They straightened up and stood before each other, morning sun on their sides, blushes on their cheeks. “No, I don’t mean that.”

“That what do you mean?”

“Actually, I mean... it’s too complicated. I don’t know the first thing to even say to explain... I can’t. I—” Redd shrugged. “I barely understand this stuff, man. Some things are better if you don’t talk about them. That’s how it is.”

“That’s how what is?”

Redd shook his head, helpless. “Just... Oh, forget it. Come here.”

He touched Lohn’s cheek and bent close to kiss him. He was hesitant at first contact, body rushing with trepidation, but Lohn opened his mouth and his arms flew to hug around Redd’s head, and Redd melted into him, stepping so their knees interlocked and his arms could wind around Lohn’s tiny little waist. He was hot-skinned and soft-lipped and his face was prickly, and he tasted like hotel soap. Redd murmured a note of delight and nuzzled in for more, grinning into their kiss.

Lohn kissed and kissed and kissed, so much passion in him, even while their contact remained gentle. He breathed heavily through his nose, blasting hot air into Redd’s beard.

Redd’s heart was flittering around all over the place, seemingly bouncing off his ribs. He laughed into Lohn’s mouth, tickled by sensation and overcome with giddiness.

Lohn just hummed, long and low, breaking the kiss to smile up at Redd. Eyes shining. Lips pinker than ever.

“Glad I was awake for that,” Lohn said, all husky.

Redd chortled, shyly lowering his gaze. “Glad you were, too.”

“I want—”

Lohn stopped speaking, but Redd gave his waist an encouraging shake, wiggling more out of him.

“I want you to wake me up like that,” Lohn said. He gulped. “I know it makes no sense, but I’ve slept better while you’ve been wakin’ me up too early.”

“It makes sense,” Redd said. “As a child you’d always get your nightmares around dawn. That’s... heh. That’s why I always wake up at this time. Even now. Can’t help it.”

Lohn’s unibrow rose in surprise, then lowered in understanding. It was one of those things. Unspoken.

He kissed Redd again, eyes closed, one thumb caressing Redd’s neck.

Redd smiled into it, and kept the kiss going until he needed to breathe properly.

“How about breakfast?” he asked, catching his breath. “Are you hungry?”

Lohn nodded. “What kind of question is that? Of course I’m hungry.”

Redd laughed a little, and patted Lohn’s back as he turned him around so they could head inside. “I could go for another cinnamon bun. You?”

“Yeah.”

Abandoned on the balcony barrier was one single tobacco cigarette, forgotten, unneeded, and unused.