Title: What I'll Miss Most (Death)
Warning: slash, depression, death
Disclaimer: This work is entirely fictional and meant for the reader's enjoyment. I own nothing whatsoever, no profit is being made, and no harm/defame is intended/provoked towards the characters in this story.
A/N: For the Life/Death drabble. And life's for wimps to write. E________E
What I'll Miss Most
I think what I'll miss most is just being able to hold his hand; warm and small within my own, fingers that lace with mine and squeeze tight. Next, I suppose it'll be his smile; the way it'd crawl across his face, how it used to light up a room, light up my life. After that, I think it'll be his voice; my comforter in the night, the voice of a friend, of a lover, that whispered praise and thanks and understanding.
And after that...just him.
I'll miss his eyes; the depth, the emotions and glow, inside of them. I'll miss his nose; how it'd wrinkle up under a kiss, scrunch up when he laughed. I'll miss those lips; miss the heat of them against my own, the passion and the play that used to speak past them. I'll miss his hands, his fingers. I'll miss, in a strange oddity, his legs and the small feet and on top of that, the ten small toes. I'll miss his hair; the way it smelt, the way it fanned about his face and the gentle waves as it cascaded down towards his shoulders.
I'll miss the moments.
I'll miss the seconds worth of kisses shared beneath the mistletoe at Christmas time. I'll miss catching his eyes across the dinner table, both of us with smiles on our lips. I'll miss the heated afterglow of just being able to hold one another after a passionate round of making love. I'll miss getting a hug goodbye, a rushed kiss, as he or I walked out the door; I wish I had savored those times just another moment longer so I could see him, hold him, love him just another moment longer.
I think what I'll miss the most is just being able to hold his hand because as he's laid to rest before me, forever in peace, for once, I cannot...
Title: Just Tired
Pairing: Angus Young/Malcolm Young
Rating: PG ( Inorite? A shocker. E____E )
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
A/N: Just a little something I put late this evening. C: Nothing fancy, just a drabble (I wrote it on a random spree, forgive the lack of grammar and/or proper spelling U___U) -- I'll write sexy things later. >w> And I wrote this via my new account stormy_mayday and also to acdc_fic; just to clear things up so no one goes, OMFG YOU STOLE. >8U
"You're awfully quiet."
"Humming at me is not an answer."
"Mhm." Angus said nothing further, leaning just slightly against his brother, both of them shoulder to shoulder, his eyes watching the scenery roll past, cars passing in quick flashes of light every now and then. Malcolm watched him quietly for a moment and a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips when he watched his brother's head lilt just so before snapping back up. He prodded him gently in the side.
"You're tired." Angus looked over at him, snorted and then looked away but leaned more against him in return. Malcolm rested his chin atop his brother's head and followed his gaze to the sky overhead, purple and gray clouds toiling together, the moon peeking in every now and again.
"You look horrible." Angus laughed then.
"You can't even see my face you twit." He returned and Malcolm slung an arm about his waist and Angus let an arm drop atop his, his fingers entangling with his brother's in a simple gesture that the other was eager to return. Angus rested his head low on Malcolm shoulder, rubbing at an eye with his free hand and Malcolm leaned in, pressing a warm kiss to the exposed length of pale flesh of his brother's neck, teeth grazing ever-so-slightly and he could feel the goose flesh bristle beneath his tongue as he pressed down another.
Angus moved against him, shifting and draped his free arm over Mal's lower torso.
"You a'right?" Malcolm threaded an hand through his brother's hair and Angus nodded.
"Concert took a lot outta ya?"
"Somethin' like that."
"What's botherin' ya?" Malcolm pulled back slightly and Angus followed, never to stop leaning against him. Malcolm rested against the arm chair and he could feel, as his brother slumped against him, the exhaustion that was sinking over the other, closing ground fast.
"Nothin'." The word was a slurred mess and Malcolm looked down, his brother dozing against him, eyes closed, breathing steady and he smiled.
He looked offended. Malcolm kissed him. The look melted but his eyes still sparked.
"Sorry," He pulled Angus in tight again and his brother practically curled around him, eyes lolling closed, "There's always the next album y'know." But when would that be? He could hear the same question churning in his brother's head but they both knew better than to ask for more than what they were already getting...
"Uyuh?" Malcolm hadn't realized he'd been dozing himself either, his brother looked up at him now. He pushed a stray lock of blond hair from his face.
"Could you stay," His brother paused long enough that Mal thought that that had been the entire question and was about to answer -- You know I want to but you know we can't -- when he spoke up again, "Until I fall asleep?" For a moment, Malcolm stared slightly dumbfounded before he collected himself together and then nodded.
"Shouldn't take too long." He jested playfully and Angus giggled, leaning against him again, giving him a good, hard last squeeze.
"'Course." Malcolm slung an arm over his brother's shoulder and he waited, listening to the dull hum of the tires, watching the cars and the rolling by scenery and the seemingly never-moving stars in the sky and when his brother's breathing fell deep and even, he knew he was gone. He looked down, studying his face for a long time before he felt a smile break out across his face and he pulled back gently until he weeded himself out of his brother's grip and gently splayed him onto the seats.
He leaned in, pressing soft kisses up the line of Angus' neck, along his jaw before coming to his lips and leaving a last one there before he turned away and headed back to his own seat...