[tGE AU] post-concert snippet
Apr. 15th, 2006 09:34 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
valmoraAs always, tGE snippets, no matter how AU they may be, don't belong to me; they belong to MGM/UA and Paul Brickhill. PG, no boylove unless you want to see it, Sandy and Roger and RJ after a concert.
I'm not entirely happy with this; I keep trying to pin down the style I want to write Sandy in and can't get a lock on it. Maybe that's the point.
Oh, and this is for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
figletofvenice, because she inspired it.
Ears still ringing from the amps, mind full of the drum set and a heavy bass line, the night shimmering at the edges, blunted and easy as it fades to black beneath faint yellowing streetlights, Sandy could beat the entire fucking universe at its own game like this, still music-high.
They stop, the three of them, outside the doors, tasting the air and the cigarette smoke, or maybe that's just Sandy's head still fucked up with nicotine, and everything around him is amazing, from the reflected-light smears over the sky clouding the stars to the pressing-back of the concrete on the soles of his shoes.
In the cooled-heat of the summer night, Roger is a solid warmth by his side, a presence more than a sense, and Sandy rests an elbow on Roger's shoulder, leaning into it and declaring, "I think I'm deaf!"
"I THINK I AM TOO," Roger responds, laughing and shouting and vibrant.
"You're insane!" RJ shouts over at them, "Madder than mercury-hatters!" and he barely stands out in the darkness, shirt a low blue-and-black over the fishnet sleeves, all his clothing a flattery to his body, easy in himself and warm, not with the heat of his presence but his personality.
Sandy laughs, arm falling from Roger's shoulder, turns around to face them both as he walks ahead of them. "Better than sanity!" he yells back, and in the darkness, the joy of living overshadows everything else.
I'm not entirely happy with this; I keep trying to pin down the style I want to write Sandy in and can't get a lock on it. Maybe that's the point.
Oh, and this is for
figletofvenice, because she inspired it.Ears still ringing from the amps, mind full of the drum set and a heavy bass line, the night shimmering at the edges, blunted and easy as it fades to black beneath faint yellowing streetlights, Sandy could beat the entire fucking universe at its own game like this, still music-high.
They stop, the three of them, outside the doors, tasting the air and the cigarette smoke, or maybe that's just Sandy's head still fucked up with nicotine, and everything around him is amazing, from the reflected-light smears over the sky clouding the stars to the pressing-back of the concrete on the soles of his shoes.
In the cooled-heat of the summer night, Roger is a solid warmth by his side, a presence more than a sense, and Sandy rests an elbow on Roger's shoulder, leaning into it and declaring, "I think I'm deaf!"
"I THINK I AM TOO," Roger responds, laughing and shouting and vibrant.
"You're insane!" RJ shouts over at them, "Madder than mercury-hatters!" and he barely stands out in the darkness, shirt a low blue-and-black over the fishnet sleeves, all his clothing a flattery to his body, easy in himself and warm, not with the heat of his presence but his personality.
Sandy laughs, arm falling from Roger's shoulder, turns around to face them both as he walks ahead of them. "Better than sanity!" he yells back, and in the darkness, the joy of living overshadows everything else.
