Those of you who know me and/or my work well know that, every now and then, a character suddenly and unexpectedly begins to speak to me. Well, it happened again a week or so ago, and this is going to be an ongoing series project. I never saw slash in First Wave, until "Target 117" aired and a certain scene... So, here's the first installment in "Crazy" Eddie's Private Journals.
NC-17, m/m, angst.
Crazy Eddie's Private Journals: Target 117
By Tiriel
"Eddie, we've been together almost a year now..."
Yeah, right. Sure as hell not in the way I'd like. That's right, I meant what you think I meant. I want him that way. What, you think all of us computer geek types are sexually frustrated straight guys? Well, there are some of us who happen to be sexually frustrated queer guys, thank you very much. Okay, fine, mostly queer. It's been long enough since I saw any real action that a nice specimen of the XX chromosome variety will turn my head. But what really turns my head, and my crank, and whatever else you can think of, is my friend and partner in the fight against the alien invasion. Cade Foster. Very hunky, very driven, very still in love with his dead wife.
I'm "Crazy" Eddie Nambulous. Some of you may know me from my website, The Paranoid Times. This is my private journal. I don't know why I'm writing it as though it's going to be read by anybody else--although, sooner or later, everything is read by somebody else--but it feels right to do it this way. Sort of like my own version of the journal he keeps.
I almost lost him this time. I was willing to die for him, for the cause. Or at least die with him. That's when he said it. "Eddie, we've been together almost a year now, and in that entire time, I've never kicked your ass." So I got out of the car, told him to buckle up, which was the closest I could come right then to saying what I really meant, and watched him speed towards that alien bitch, certain that he was really going to martyr himself this time. He will if he decides it's necessary, you know. I live every day knowing that, and I can't decide if it pisses me off or makes me want him even more. At least this time he didn't. And I was able to help, live and in person. That doesn't happen every day. After I screwed up on the emails and forgot that damn bag, it was the least I could do.
So now, a day later, I have once again vowed to just stay in my trailer from now on, and all I can think of is the way he looked at me when he said it. He wouldn't let me die. If I didn't know how much he still loves Hannah, I might take that as a sign of hope. But he does still love her. He misses her every day, and each time he watches one of those alien bodies melt away like the Wicked Witch of the West, I know it's for her, for what they stole from him. Even though he's already killed the bastard who took her life, even though now it's as much about saving humanity as it is about revenge, I'm sure that he thinks of her every time he takes one of them out.
I kind of wish I'd known him before. I know he had a rough past, but he'd reformed, gone legit. He was happy and safe and loved. Just once, I'd like to see him like that--relaxed. He's always on his guard, always thinking about the next step in his fight. One paranoid member of this team is enough, you know? I bet he looked younger then, before all this started. As much as I want to help save the world, as much as I want him for myself, if I could have one wish, it would be for him to be happy again. How dumb is that? I should wish for the aliens to be defeated or something useful. Then again, they do call me crazy.
The thing that I would never admit to anyone, the thing that I can hardly believe I'm admitting to myself, is that in a weird sort of way, I'm glad the aliens came. In a small, selfish part of my heart, I'm glad they picked him for their experiment. If they hadn't, I never would have met him.
God, I sound so sappy. I'm making myself want to puke. So, to temper the sweetness, let me think of how I would've liked this little adventure to end.
Ding, dong, the bitch is dead, we go back to my trailer, go inside, and he says, "Eddie, do you know why I wouldn't let you die?"
And I say, "No."
And he says, "Because I wanted to do this." And he drops to his knees and sucks me off. Yeah, that's right. And, God, his mouth is so hot and he's so good and I shoot right down his throat. Then, when he's swallowed it all, he looks up at me and smiles.
And I say, "Do this a lot when you were a kid?"
And we say, in unison, "Only on the weekends." And we laugh.
I don't know if I've ever heard a real laugh from him, either. Shit. Stop, before I start making myself nauseous again. And, what, I call that a sexual fantasy? I've spent a lot of time online, I can do way better than that. Next time, I will.
-More later, Eddie