theshatterdome | little ghost, little ghost, one i'm scared of the most

He thinks about not following, about remaining with the Shatterdome until it is nothing more than a crumbling heap and he a wailing, despondent wraith haunting the skeletal remains. He thinks long and hard about it, ponders the wisdom in following Chuck around, haunting him until the end of his days, forever wondering at his choices and what he could have been - what he should have been.

It's difficult when one is in this position (though honestly Raleigh isn't sure about how many people are ever in this position, he hasn't seen any others besides himself) to not regret the choices made in life and Raleigh has time to think about all of them while Chuck preps to leave. Herc is the kind of man that wants to see a project through and as he is the Marshal, he oversees the decommissioning of all remaining Shatterdome's - Hong Kong and Sydney included.

But Hong Kong was almost a ghost town anyway, most of the crew these days had long left after the war ended, those that survived desperately wanted to be with their families and loved ones to celebrate the end of war. Raleigh can understand that. The need to wrap yourself up in an old lovers arms, or perhaps make amends with family, or even find anew hope out in a world that suddenly knows peace for the first time in over a decade.

This world is not for Raleigh Becket. Raleigh died a war hero, a man that gave everything he ever had to give for the cause and he's memorialized for it, posthumously awarded medals of honor and valor at parties that are but a charade and Raleigh scoffs at them, because attending are the same disgusting fat cats in Armani suits that withdrew funding to begin with, saying the jaegers were outdated and the coastal wall program was where it's at.

In the end, he finds that he has to follow Chuck. He can't seem to help himself - that same tug he originally felt in his chest is still there and so he goes to Australia, trails after Chuck like a puppy, mostly keeping himself out of sight but he can't resist staying in Chuck's peripheral because Raleigh cannot bear to be rendered invisible and utterly ignored.

Chuck's been wondering about if there's ever been any other ghosts--if Raleigh's met any other ghosts. He guesses not, if he's so lonely he's willing to hang around the only living person who can see him. He's gotta be desperate, Chuck thinks, if he's gonna follow like that.

Except. He doesn't really show himself, after those first conversations. He knows he's there--he thinks he's there because he sees him out of the corner of his eye, sees him as a flicker, hears him every now and again.

But he doesn't reveal himself, doesn't confront Chuck. He never did, Chuck has to remember, he stayed quiet until Chuck noticed him and until Chuck talked to him. So maybe despite all his talk for being lonely, for hating the quiet, all he wants is to know he's not alone.

He takes out the piece of Gipsy every now and again, when he's not sure if Raleigh's there or not, wondering if that's why Raleigh's there. And what would happen if he threw it out.

He doesn't. He can't quite handle the thought of actually getting rid of Raleigh for good.

...he takes other stuff out too, when he thinks Raleigh's for sure not there. It takes him a while, anyway, to get some alone time, because he can't shake the feeling that someone's watching him, but he shakes it and gets his dick out in his hand fuckin finally.

Their first conversations in death, as in life, had not gone well and Raleigh wasn't overly fond of arguing or fighting with the one person that could see him and talk to him. He's unaware if they can touch be he finds that an irrelevant factor - they don't need to touch or talk, Raleigh finds that he is content with Chuck's presence, with the creak of his bed when the younger man sits, the running of the shower, the obnoxiously loud music he plays. He likes listening to Chuck talk to Max, likes hearing that Australian drawl, likes seeing those dimples when Chuck smiles for Max and Max only.

He stays hidden, drifts between planes of existence though he finds himself materializing the most when Chuck strokes that piece of metal and he wonders at it, stares and contemplates all of his decisions that have led him up to that very moment in time.

Raleigh has, at this point, managed to figure out how to render himself invisible - not that that matters much, but to Chuck it might be nice to not be seeing a ghost out of the corner of your eye all the time - and that's how he spends most of his days. Basking in Chuck's presence and hiding from view, lonely but placated by the younger Ranger and his dog.

Privacy is important and Raleigh gives Chuck as much of it as he can so when he figures out what the hell it is Chuck is doing, he's...well.

He's sort of staring at fist because Chuck is gorgeous, completely beautiful but he feels like a gross creep standing here and watching Chuck jack himself off so he shimmers, shivering and swallowing thickly - habitual reaction, he's found. He doesn't need to actually swallow.

He shakes himself once, then flees the room and hides outside of the door, hands gripping at his own fatigues and eyes closing as he leans back against Chuck's door.

It is not 'obnoxiously loud' it's the proper volume for that kind of music.

Chuck does find himself wishing that Raleigh would talk to him though.

Anyway. He's in bed now, Max safely off with Herc where he won't be curiously poking his nose into Chuck's business. Literally. He's face down in his bed, hips bucking into his lube-slicked fist. He's panting into his other fist to keep himself groaning aloud--the walls aren't that thin--and he's not really been fantasizing about anything or anyone specifically, he just wants to get this done. He's not even all the way undressed, his shirt's still on and his pants are basically just shoved down his thighs.

Still. The thought just pops into his head of Raleigh's smile, the little quirk to his mouth and the flash in his eyes and his name passes his lips with a rough groan and then he's--just coming, mouth open wide against his fist and hips pumping.

Raleigh’s clutching at the material of his fatigues – it still fascinates him to some degree that to himself, he feels wholly real. His pants feel worn in and comfortable and he can feel the softness of his sweater brushing against his skin. He can feel his cock stirring between his thighs, a reaction he is unsure of and therefore attempts to desperately hide – from Chuck as well as himself.

He knows what Chuck is doing right now, knows that he’s fucking jerking himself off and all Raleigh can do is close his eyes and try to ignore it, try to disappear like he is wont to do but he finds he cant, finds the lust is stronger than the will to leave, and before he knows it he’s pulling his own cock out, thumbing the tub, whimpering quietly under his breath and stroking himself along with Chuck.

God he’s such a fucking pervert.

And then – fuck, he hears Chuck moan his name - Raleigh - and he loses it right there in the hall, heat spilling over his hand but disappearing before it can stain his clothes or drip to the floor.

Feeling exceptionally dirty, he tucks himself away and scrubs his hands over his face and sinks down, burying his face in his knees.

What the hell has he become? Why can’t he leave? Does he want to leave? He doesn’t know anymore.

Edited 2014-07-01 12:49 (UTC)

Chuck finishes himself off, milking himself until his dick's too sensitive and rubbing his cheek into his pillow with a soft groan. He doesn't wanna think too hard about thinking about a dead man while he came--a dead man he's been seeing.

Worse than that, he wasn't thinking about fucking him, it was his fucking smile.

The man's dead and he's still affecting Chuck like this.

He flops onto his back and zips his pants up with a grunt, reaching for the tissues. He does wonder, idly, if he can touch Raleigh. He hasn't tried or anything.

And then he immediately abolishes the thought because nothing is going to happen. Chuck cleans himself up and opens his door to go get lunch.

Raleigh's sitting just outside of the door and he jumps up when Chuck opens the door, face coloring, unable to look him in the eyes.

"Sorry."

He's starting to fade, to get out of Chuck's way.

"Ray--" Well he hadn't expected Raleigh to be outside his door.

"You going?"

It's so fucking confusing, he's been trailing after Chuck and--listening in apparently and Chuck's not going to let himself get embarrassed by that Ray's the fucking peeping tom--then disappearing the moment Chuck actually turns to look at him?

"I--"

He shimmers, confused and not sure what he should do - if he should stay or go.

"I don't have to?"

Chuck closes his door with a little bit more force than necessary, turning around to face it so people don't see him talking to a patch of empty air.

"Do whatever you want," he growls out of the corner of his mouth. "Why should I care?"

No, he cares, he cares a lot that Raleigh doesn't want to talk to him, that he's only in the corner of Chuck's eyes, that he's staunchly Not There.

Raleigh flinches, then sets his jaw - this is why he doesn't talk to Chuck, because he feels like he makes it worse. This is literally their second conversation (third total) and it's going about as well as the other two have.

He can feel himself getting irritated despite himself.

"Fuck if I know. You damn sure don't act like you want me around."

"How would you know?" he hisses at him.

"You haven't spoken or--barely shown yourself to me since we left Alaska! Now I'm seeing and talking to you so I know it's not because we left your precious homeland, so I gotta think it's me!"

Raleigh groans and throws up his hands in frustration.

"You acted like you didn't want me around! What the hell am I supposed to think?! I can't read your mind!"

"When?" he demands, turning his head to look at Raleigh. "When did I act like that? You mean how I was acting uncomfortable because I'm fucking seeing a fucking dead man and he's talking to me and I'm the only one who can see him or hear him?"

"THAT kind of uncomfortable?"

Raleigh's looking fairly sour.

"Yeah, actually! That's exactly why I've left you alone, because this whole thing is fucking disturbing!"

Chuck snorts in disbelief and finally turns to Raleigh.

"Either you hate being alone and you want someone to talk to or you just want to follow someone around," he says, voice rough. "In which case, leave me the hell alone."

And he's stalking off, hands clenched because--he's a little afraid Raleigh'll take the second option.

"Why don't you tell me what the fuck you want me to do? I'm stuck following you around and I can only guess why. If you want me gone so goddamn bad, them burn that piece of Gipsy you have!"

And maybe he will take that second option - if he could. He shimmers out of view, but it's only long enough for Chuck to stomp off. He's not going to beg.

Fuck that.

No, instead it's worse and he's stuck lurking around Chuck's room, waiting for him to come back like a puppy.

Chuck keeps walking, shoulders hunched almost to his ears as if that could shut Raleigh out.

There's something up with him and even Herc's noticed. He's not really got the time to sit his son down and talk to him, but he's been shooting him Looks and that's nearly the same thing between the Hansens.

He works out, spars, hard enough that by the time he gets back to his room he's shaking.

Raleigh's sitting on his bed when he gets back, expression grim.

"Where is it?"

That little piece of metal hes seen Chuck treating like a worry stone.

"You're still here." There's a spark of relief in Chuck's chest at the sight but it's quickly smothered by the question. Of course he's still here, he's probably bound to the stupid piece of Danger he's kept.

He takes another swig from his water bottle and goes to his bomber jacket. It's too warm to wear it all the time, so when Chuck doesn't carry the piece with him he keeps it in the pocket of the jacket. He pulls it out and tosses it on the bed by Raleigh.

Raleigh sort of leans over it and squints, examining it as best he can from a distance. It's stronger now that it's out in the open and right there beside him. Raleigh can feel the tug, feel the strange sensation in his chest that comes with...all of this.

"I'm tied to this," he murmurs, reaching out to touch it, but stopping just short of brushing his fingers over it. He's not quite sure what will happen when he touches it - will he disappear? Will it shock him? Will it further tether him here? He's not sure he wants to find out.

"When did you take this?"

Edited 2014-07-01 16:41 (UTC)

Chuck's already flushed from his time in the koon but his cheeks darken a little and he looks away, scowling.

"...Before Pitfall," he mutters. "It was--It's nothing, if it was important I wouldn't've touched it."

He can't say why he picked it up.

Raleigh nods slowly, leaning back and away from it.

"Just a scrap. Probably a metal shaving from trying to get the kaiju blue off."

So no, not important - though it's apparently important enough to keep Raleigh here.

"...You want me to get rid of it?"

Because it's Raleigh's decision. It could mean he'd move on, go on to...whatever he's not heading towards.

"Do whatever you want. Why should I care? I'm dead."

It's an echo of Chuck's harsh words to Raleigh and he gets up and crosses the room, making for the door.

Old habits die hard.

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