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Title: Days in Summer
Pairing: Curt/Arthur
Part: 3/5
Part 1 is posted here.
Part 2 is posted here.
Words: ~1400
Rating: R (mentions of drug use, sex)
Warning(s): As noted above, mentions of past drug abuse.
Disclaimer: Velvet Goldmine and all associated characters and trademarks are the intellectual property of Todd Haynes and Miramax. This is a work of non-commercial fan fiction commentary on the film; no ownership is being claimed and no profit is being made.
Author’s note(s): First, I posted this piece under the title Give and Take on September 1st, when I had only a vague idea for the longer narrative it could fit into. With some minor tweaking, it has now morphed into Part 3 of Days in Summer. Second, in keeping with the liberal use of Oscar Wilde quotes in this movie, the quote about regretting the loss of one’s worst habits is a paraphrase from The Picture of Dorian Gray.
February, 1985
Curt knows that just a few years ago, he would have destroyed someone like Arthur in about two months. Arthur Stuart is that rare creature - a really decent person - and, up until very recently, it would have been impossible for Curt to keep someone like that in his life. The drugs, arrests, hospitalizations, the violence of Curt’s own outbursts, would have ruined him or her in record time. Even now, Curt sometimes suspects that he’ll end up screwing Arthur over and then leaving him. He has tried to get his act together; he is cleaner today than he’s been at any time in his adult life, but he knows himself too well to be sure if it’ll last.
He has, however, realized after one close call too many just how badly he needed to give up the life he had been living. He is thirty eight years old now, thirty seven the last time he went through rehab, and he has finally learned that no matter how pathetic turning forty sounds, the alternative is actually worse. In fact, it terrifies him.
“It’s basic fear of death,” he had said to Arthur once. “The kind of thing even a fucking insect would be smart enough to feel. I guess it finally kicked in, you know?”
That had been a little over a month into their relationship, a weekend, one of those quietly ecstatic times when Arthur did not have to work and so would hardly leave Curt’s apartment for the better part of three days. They were sitting together in the aftermath of sex when Curt had found his mind wandering. He had begun lapsing into self-pity, thinking of the lows that still threatened to overwhelm him enough to throw all that hard-earned wisdom right out and go right back to his old habits. The boredom alone had almost done the trick, at times.
“You regret the loss of even your worst habits,” he had gone on. “Maybe you regret those the most. They become such a part of you.”
Arthur had looked at him with that warm, worried stare - he can actually care about people other than himself - but said nothing.
“What?” Curt had asked, lighting a cigarette.
For a second Arthur had looked so nervous that Curt was tempted to offer him the cigarette instead, even though Arthur didn’t smoke. But within a moment Arthur had collected himself. When he replied, it was with that newfound conviction that always made Curt smile a little inside.
“It’s so important that you did stop, though,” he says. “You needed to.”
And that, of course, is part of why Curt has done the selfish thing and decided to hang onto Arthur. He has so needed something better - healthier, more flattering - to do with himself and his life; he needs reinforcement like that to keep him sane.
“Yeah?” he had asked, wondering where Arthur would go with this.
“Yeah - you’ve got so much more to say to the world. Really. You’d be missed so much...”
“Especially by you?”
Arthur had looked away then. They had never really verbalized their feelings, and so Curt had realized too late that forcing this out of Arthur was a pretty lousy, and a surprisingly manipulative, thing to do. Still he could not suppress the brief thought, This isn’t like Brian; he needs me, I could walk away easier, be better off...
“Yeah,” Arthur had said, at length, his voice strained. “Especially by me. You know that.”
Curt had kissed him then, as tenderly as he ever had. Don’t fuck up, he had reminded himself. Don’t fuck him up.
* * *
Arthur is smart, except, of course, where Curt is concerned. Anyone who, at twenty seven, with a life to lead, still jumps at the chance to get involved with Curt Wild can’t be all that sensible. Curt is very aware of that fact. Still, Arthur is so different from most of the people he has had in his life. Curt hasn’t really thought about what happened to the groupie kids he used to sleep with back in the day - something which he knows can’t reflect too well on him - but he suspects that those times ended much worse for many people than they did for Arthur. Despite having few friends and no family to speak of (and they rarely spoke of those things), Arthur had more or less gotten his life together. He might even use his writing to challenge the music world as it was now, to do something worthwhile. Curt suspects that this is more the exception than the rule. Given what he has seen, he’s pretty sure that more kids from backgrounds like Arthur’s would have ended as complete fuck ups - overdoses in strangers’ beds or God knew what. Somehow, Arthur had had the sense to avoid all that and create a normal life. Maybe a little too normal, at too steep a cost; maybe he, too, had been pretty unhappy when they first reconnected, but honestly, who wasn’t unhappy? Besides, there was unhappy, and then there was the way Curt had lived the last twenty or so years of his life.
Arthur’s problems, at least, could be fixed. That’s another beautiful thing about being with him. It’s like breaking a dam. Curt would never admit it, but sometimes, he actually finds himself getting tired out by his new lover, in the best ways possible - Curt Wild, of all people. He has to smile whenever he realizes that. Maybe he’s just over the hill, or maybe it really is the quiet ones you have to watch out for. Either way, despite Curt’s fears, their relationship actually isn’t all take, no give on his part.
Instead, at least in these first few weeks, Curt has been astounded at the changes in Arthur. A few weeks of meeting up for sex every day, sometimes twice in a day, taking meals together and spending time together like a real couple, and Arthur is finally throwing away repression and timidity. He stands taller (and his height is very impressive); he smiles more readily and more broadly; there’s less tension in his muscles. He takes more risks, too. For one thing, he’s gotten much more familiar in his conversations with Curt, which is to be expected - less starstruck, more confident in speaking his mind, almost forceful at times.
Curt can see that courage carrying over into other parts of Arthur’s life, as well. Once, on an evening when Curt had surprised Arthur in his apartment, their rather rough play up against the bedroom wall had been interrupted by the phone ringing. Arthur had answered it. It had been his editor at the Herald and though Arthur had to take the call, he had flashed Curt a sly smile and jerked him off while carrying on a normal enough business conversation. Though Curt had never had much self-control, he was as quiet then as he had ever been during sex.
They had laughed about it afterwards, but Curt was happier than he could say to see Arthur actually enjoying his life and his sexuality for a change. At least Curt knows he isn’t being completely selfish.
* * *
It’s another Monday morning, two months in, and Curt wakes up alone. He sits bolt upright, hoping that Arthur won’t have left for work yet. He hasn’t, happily; Curt can hear the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. He pulls on a pair of jeans and lights a cigarette. When Arthur steps out of the shower, Curt has coffee waiting for him. They exchange a smile.
“Thanks,” Arthur says. Then, when he has finished his drink, “I’ll see you - tonight? Tomorrow?”
“Tonight,” Curt says. He only notices the dark circles under Arthur’s eyes a moment later. “If you’re not too tired from burning the candle at both ends...”
Arthur laughs.
“I’m burning the candle at every end,” he says, “but I’ll be happy to see you tonight.”
“Good.”
But Curt knows that Arthur does, and should, have other commitments in his life, too, so he grins and adds, “You can work on your book here, you know. I promise I won’t spend the whole night fucking you.”
Arthur laughs again and leans in to kiss Curt.
“I wouldn’t mind - but I do have to go now. I’ll see you.”
Curt sighs as he locks the door after Arthur. He lights another cigarette, wondering how the apartment where he’s lived well enough for the last few years can seem so empty now.
He thinks, Maybe it’s too late already. Maybe I can’t walk away so easily, either. But he doesn’t care half as much as he thought he would.
Pairing: Curt/Arthur
Part: 3/5
Part 1 is posted here.
Part 2 is posted here.
Words: ~1400
Rating: R (mentions of drug use, sex)
Warning(s): As noted above, mentions of past drug abuse.
Disclaimer: Velvet Goldmine and all associated characters and trademarks are the intellectual property of Todd Haynes and Miramax. This is a work of non-commercial fan fiction commentary on the film; no ownership is being claimed and no profit is being made.
Author’s note(s): First, I posted this piece under the title Give and Take on September 1st, when I had only a vague idea for the longer narrative it could fit into. With some minor tweaking, it has now morphed into Part 3 of Days in Summer. Second, in keeping with the liberal use of Oscar Wilde quotes in this movie, the quote about regretting the loss of one’s worst habits is a paraphrase from The Picture of Dorian Gray.
February, 1985
Curt knows that just a few years ago, he would have destroyed someone like Arthur in about two months. Arthur Stuart is that rare creature - a really decent person - and, up until very recently, it would have been impossible for Curt to keep someone like that in his life. The drugs, arrests, hospitalizations, the violence of Curt’s own outbursts, would have ruined him or her in record time. Even now, Curt sometimes suspects that he’ll end up screwing Arthur over and then leaving him. He has tried to get his act together; he is cleaner today than he’s been at any time in his adult life, but he knows himself too well to be sure if it’ll last.
He has, however, realized after one close call too many just how badly he needed to give up the life he had been living. He is thirty eight years old now, thirty seven the last time he went through rehab, and he has finally learned that no matter how pathetic turning forty sounds, the alternative is actually worse. In fact, it terrifies him.
“It’s basic fear of death,” he had said to Arthur once. “The kind of thing even a fucking insect would be smart enough to feel. I guess it finally kicked in, you know?”
That had been a little over a month into their relationship, a weekend, one of those quietly ecstatic times when Arthur did not have to work and so would hardly leave Curt’s apartment for the better part of three days. They were sitting together in the aftermath of sex when Curt had found his mind wandering. He had begun lapsing into self-pity, thinking of the lows that still threatened to overwhelm him enough to throw all that hard-earned wisdom right out and go right back to his old habits. The boredom alone had almost done the trick, at times.
“You regret the loss of even your worst habits,” he had gone on. “Maybe you regret those the most. They become such a part of you.”
Arthur had looked at him with that warm, worried stare - he can actually care about people other than himself - but said nothing.
“What?” Curt had asked, lighting a cigarette.
For a second Arthur had looked so nervous that Curt was tempted to offer him the cigarette instead, even though Arthur didn’t smoke. But within a moment Arthur had collected himself. When he replied, it was with that newfound conviction that always made Curt smile a little inside.
“It’s so important that you did stop, though,” he says. “You needed to.”
And that, of course, is part of why Curt has done the selfish thing and decided to hang onto Arthur. He has so needed something better - healthier, more flattering - to do with himself and his life; he needs reinforcement like that to keep him sane.
“Yeah?” he had asked, wondering where Arthur would go with this.
“Yeah - you’ve got so much more to say to the world. Really. You’d be missed so much...”
“Especially by you?”
Arthur had looked away then. They had never really verbalized their feelings, and so Curt had realized too late that forcing this out of Arthur was a pretty lousy, and a surprisingly manipulative, thing to do. Still he could not suppress the brief thought, This isn’t like Brian; he needs me, I could walk away easier, be better off...
“Yeah,” Arthur had said, at length, his voice strained. “Especially by me. You know that.”
Curt had kissed him then, as tenderly as he ever had. Don’t fuck up, he had reminded himself. Don’t fuck him up.
* * *
Arthur is smart, except, of course, where Curt is concerned. Anyone who, at twenty seven, with a life to lead, still jumps at the chance to get involved with Curt Wild can’t be all that sensible. Curt is very aware of that fact. Still, Arthur is so different from most of the people he has had in his life. Curt hasn’t really thought about what happened to the groupie kids he used to sleep with back in the day - something which he knows can’t reflect too well on him - but he suspects that those times ended much worse for many people than they did for Arthur. Despite having few friends and no family to speak of (and they rarely spoke of those things), Arthur had more or less gotten his life together. He might even use his writing to challenge the music world as it was now, to do something worthwhile. Curt suspects that this is more the exception than the rule. Given what he has seen, he’s pretty sure that more kids from backgrounds like Arthur’s would have ended as complete fuck ups - overdoses in strangers’ beds or God knew what. Somehow, Arthur had had the sense to avoid all that and create a normal life. Maybe a little too normal, at too steep a cost; maybe he, too, had been pretty unhappy when they first reconnected, but honestly, who wasn’t unhappy? Besides, there was unhappy, and then there was the way Curt had lived the last twenty or so years of his life.
Arthur’s problems, at least, could be fixed. That’s another beautiful thing about being with him. It’s like breaking a dam. Curt would never admit it, but sometimes, he actually finds himself getting tired out by his new lover, in the best ways possible - Curt Wild, of all people. He has to smile whenever he realizes that. Maybe he’s just over the hill, or maybe it really is the quiet ones you have to watch out for. Either way, despite Curt’s fears, their relationship actually isn’t all take, no give on his part.
Instead, at least in these first few weeks, Curt has been astounded at the changes in Arthur. A few weeks of meeting up for sex every day, sometimes twice in a day, taking meals together and spending time together like a real couple, and Arthur is finally throwing away repression and timidity. He stands taller (and his height is very impressive); he smiles more readily and more broadly; there’s less tension in his muscles. He takes more risks, too. For one thing, he’s gotten much more familiar in his conversations with Curt, which is to be expected - less starstruck, more confident in speaking his mind, almost forceful at times.
Curt can see that courage carrying over into other parts of Arthur’s life, as well. Once, on an evening when Curt had surprised Arthur in his apartment, their rather rough play up against the bedroom wall had been interrupted by the phone ringing. Arthur had answered it. It had been his editor at the Herald and though Arthur had to take the call, he had flashed Curt a sly smile and jerked him off while carrying on a normal enough business conversation. Though Curt had never had much self-control, he was as quiet then as he had ever been during sex.
They had laughed about it afterwards, but Curt was happier than he could say to see Arthur actually enjoying his life and his sexuality for a change. At least Curt knows he isn’t being completely selfish.
* * *
It’s another Monday morning, two months in, and Curt wakes up alone. He sits bolt upright, hoping that Arthur won’t have left for work yet. He hasn’t, happily; Curt can hear the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. He pulls on a pair of jeans and lights a cigarette. When Arthur steps out of the shower, Curt has coffee waiting for him. They exchange a smile.
“Thanks,” Arthur says. Then, when he has finished his drink, “I’ll see you - tonight? Tomorrow?”
“Tonight,” Curt says. He only notices the dark circles under Arthur’s eyes a moment later. “If you’re not too tired from burning the candle at both ends...”
Arthur laughs.
“I’m burning the candle at every end,” he says, “but I’ll be happy to see you tonight.”
“Good.”
But Curt knows that Arthur does, and should, have other commitments in his life, too, so he grins and adds, “You can work on your book here, you know. I promise I won’t spend the whole night fucking you.”
Arthur laughs again and leans in to kiss Curt.
“I wouldn’t mind - but I do have to go now. I’ll see you.”
Curt sighs as he locks the door after Arthur. He lights another cigarette, wondering how the apartment where he’s lived well enough for the last few years can seem so empty now.
He thinks, Maybe it’s too late already. Maybe I can’t walk away so easily, either. But he doesn’t care half as much as he thought he would.