Fic: The Wild, 1/3, Chris/Steve

[gilascave]

Title: The Wild
Author: James
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Christian Kane/Steve Carlson
Word Count: 21,200
Disclaimer: not mine, no profit made, no statements made herein are intended to be true claims about any persons real or imagined
Notes: written for rpf_big_bang. Many thanks to my alpha readers for their cheerleading and to menomegirl for the beta and many, many thanks to ldyghstwhisprer for making such gorgeous, awesome art.
Summary: When Christian was a child, he secretly spent one summer in a fantastical world called The Wild with a small flying dragon as his companion. Now, as an adult, Christian is still struggling with the events of that summer as well as trying to manage his relationship with Steve. He messed up once before with Steve and he's determined not to mess it up again -- even if all of their friends keep telling him that he is.



It was hot -- almost as hot as a summer in Texas, with the sun pounding down like a physical weight. Christian wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and squinted, looking into the distance. The trees all around him broke the heat where he was hiding, their shade giving a respite that he deeply appreciated. He'd learned the hard way about too much sun, last year at the city pool he'd gotten sunburned so bad his momma had taken him to the hospital. This year she'd said he was too young to go alone; he argued that eight wasn't too young for anything but that had just made Daddy laugh. With the baby to take care of, though, there wasn't anybody to take Christian in to town to play with his friends.

Luckily, he'd found ways to keep himself outta the house and outta Momma's hair -- and if he wasn't quite sure exactly how it had happened, well, he was old enough to know that there were some things grown-ups just wouldn't understand. He'd been grounded and paddled enough in his lifetime to know when to keep his mouth shut about what he'd been doing, even if most of those times had really sort of been Hadley's fault, or Mark's, for coming up with the ideas in the first place.

The sun wasn't as bad in the Wild as it could be in Texas, but Christian was always careful to bring his hat along, as well as a bandana to soak in the creek and tie around his neck. Now, sweat was dripping but he knew he would be all right; enough time spent running in the Wild to know the heat wouldn't get much worse than was already. He gripped the staff he'd carved firmly in his left hand, then crept slowly towards the rise of the hill in front of him. He inched his way up slowly until he could peer over the rise and into the valley below.

Kaoyu's claws gripped his shoulder where he was perched like a big tomcat; the front of his body on Christian's shoulder with the rest of it draped down his back and Kaoyu's tail wrapped around Christian's hip. The little dragon peered intently at the scene below, his wings tucked in so their silvery scales wouldn't reflect the sunlight and give their position away.

Christian looked at him and raised an eyebrow. Kaoyu just stared at the valley, then nodded slowly. Christian felt his heart beating fast.

This was the reasons they'd come all this way. The hike through the mountains, fighting off the kiasi and stealing every fire-jewel he could find. His pack was full of the bright red, baseball-sized fire balls and he had a feeling he was going to need every one. Despite his excitement, Christian was tired and sore and hungry. He'd eaten the last of his jerky and sandwiches from his pack that morning, and he'd seriously considered heading for home to pack more food and to rest up and come back to the Wild after a few days.

But the malmoth was just on the other side of the hill hiding somewhere in the clearing below. Christian knew they couldn't put this off any longer. He'd seen the crumbling trees in the distance, heard the battle cries echoing on the wind at night when he slept, curled on the ground under a tree with Kaoyu nestled against his shoulder. Who knew how much of this world would be destroyed if he delayed? Christian gripped the staff tighter and crept up over the crest of the hill, keeping low in the grass like he'd seen on TV.

He wondered what his grandpa would say if he knew Christian was putting those old westerns he liked to watch to good use.

As he came over the hill, Christian could see only grass and trees, but after a moment he realized couldn't hear any birds or animals. Everything was silent except for his own breathing and the thunderous pounding of his heartbeat in his ears. He reached his free hand into his pack, gripping a fire-jewel, careful not to squeeze it hard enough to trigger. His hands were slick with sweat but he knew he could do this. He'd used the fire balls against the flocks of whipperwales, the evil birds the malmoth used to spy on things. He'd practiced for hours, throwing the fire balls against the rock face of a cliff, and even back home he'd taken a bucket of baseballs and thrown them over and over until his daddy had asked him why Christian hadn't told them he'd wanted to sign up for Little League.

Kaoyu tightened his claws on Christian's shoulder and Christian took a deep breath. One careful step down the hill towards the valley, then another, and he didn't know exactly where the malmoth was but he could feel its presence in his bones. The malmoth was close and he had to be ready. Had to destroy it before it ravaged the whole land, killing every living thing it touched.

Two more steps down the hill and he paused, looking into the shadows. He froze. Had something moved? Was something there? He pulled out the fire ball out of his pack and held it ready, one more step and there was a huge growl, and the large black beast rose out of the brush nearly at his feet and Christian screamed.

He froze again as it continued to rise -- up, up, and as it raised its huge black arms, howling with a mouth full of long sharp teeth -- Christian turned, and ran.

~~~

Twenty-seven years later, Christian sat on a couch in Vancouver, holding a bottle of beer in one hand and watching the display before him with a fake look of disgust. "Haven't y'all got that out of your systems yet?"

Jensen just flipped him off without breaking his kiss; Jared didn't even act like he'd heard.

"Just because you're too stupid to hang onto yours," David said, as he plopped down on the couch beside Christian.

"What?" Christian looked at him in surprise. Not because he had no idea what David was talking about: he'd been hearing one version or another of the same lecture for the last five years. But ever since he and Steve had got back together -- after a fashion -- he'd stopped hearing about how stupid he'd been to let Steve go. Even if things weren't like they'd been before, of course. He and Steve had agreed that 'back together' meant playing together and being friends, and sometimes, when the chance was there, having sex. Things were a hell of a lot better between them now and Christian was content to have his friend back. But he didn't really want to talk about it with David, who had the ability to turn into a nagging mother hen for years on end.

David gestured at the two men, Jared sprawled on Jensen's lap, as they made out as if there was no party going on around them. "They're still newlyweds. Ignore 'em."

"They've been living together for three years," Christian felt obligated to point out.

"But this is the first time we've been able to get everyone up here," Jared said, joining the conversation rather unexpectedly. The look on Jensen's face said he didn't really mind; Christian didn't look too closely to see where either of them had their hands.

"I'm still surprised you could find a whole week when nobody was shooting anything," David agreed.

"Between Supernatural wrapping up last week," Jared said, nodding, "And Leverage starting in a couple weeks...." He trailed off, looking perplexed, then asked David, "Are you filming anything?"

"As the only one here whose show is on a major network," David began, and Christian, Jared, and Jensen all razzed him simultaneously. David threw a wadded up napkin at Jared as Christian and Jensen just laughed at them both. Christian grinned; he'd much rather have them screwing with each other than--

"So, how're you and Steve?" David suddenly asked, turning to look at Christian point-blank. Before Christian could answer, David continued. "Because I thought I detected a little bitterness, there, with your critique of ours hosts playing tonsil-hockey in their own living room."

"We're fine," Christian answered, staying calm. There hadn't been any reason to get riled up over that question for a long time, even if David didn't seem to understand.

"He doesn't like the way we play tonsil hockey?" Jared stage-whispered to Jensen, who shook his head.

"It's complicated," Jensen told him, not even pretending to keep his voice down. "You remember I told you Steve and Christian were together about eight or so years back? Then Christian was an asshole and broke it off and they went their separate ways." Jensen was making gestures with his hand, as if indicating the actual separation on an invisible map which Jared could read.

Christian didn't interrupt. He would never deny it had been his fault, that he'd been the one to be the asshole. The fact that Steve was willing to be his friend again now was a miracle he couldn't quite figure out, although he imagined it had something to do with just how much better it was playing in a band together, than apart. How much better a lot of things were.

Jensen was continuing his story, ignoring the way Christian was kicking David in the ankle for smirking at him. "So, a few years ago they got back together -- they got their band back together, became friends again, started sleeping with each other again."

Jared looked even more confused. "And?"

"And now," David said, "All of Christian's friends are waiting for him to get his head out of his ass and accept the fact he's in love. Some of us are taking bets as to how much patience Steve has." He took a long swig of beer. "I've already lost. I bet on two months."

"Thanks," Christian told him, wondering if he should go find another beer and dump it on David's head or if the ribbing was just the karmic retribution he was going to have to cope with.

"Not a problem," David said, smiling brightly.

"So, because he's having trouble with his relationship," Jared began, and Christian suddenly decided he'd had enough for one night. He stood up.

"Steve and I are friends. We have a band, and yes, we sleep together. We do not have a relationship. We tried that, it didn't work, and we're not doing it again." He saw the look on Jensen's face -- that same knowing, bemused expression he wouldn't be surprised to see on David's as well, if he turned to look. Instead he just took his beer and walked away to find somebody who didn't want to talk about relationships that didn't exist.

The party was fairly small tonight. Some of cast and crew from Supernatural were present, gathering in groups of three or four talking and laughing like old friends. Here and there were faces Christian knew from other places. Jared and Jensen had invited everyone who could come up for a week of barbecues and dinner parties, cramming in the house warming and bachelor parties and first, second, and third anniversaries all into one week. He'd even seen a cake in the kitchen with 'Happy Birthday' on it, but didn't know who, if anyone, was actually celebrating.

It didn't matter, since everyone seemed to just be glad to kick back and relax. Tomorrow even more folks would arrive, including a few of Jared and Jensen's relatives and more friends from all over. Christian had come up because Steve had asked him; Jared and Jensen had arranged a paying gig for them on Friday, performing for everyone as part of their week-long party. When he'd arrived earlier to see David standing in the kitchen talking to Jared about watercolors, he'd been surprised, but David had just shrugged and said he'd sworn never to miss a chance to hear Chris and Steve play together if he could help it.

Now, though, Christian was wondering if 'harass Christian' was his real reason for being there. He'd tried to do the inter-bred small network math to figure out if David had ever been on a show with anyone else at the party besides himself, but even with checking the IMdB on his phone, he hadn't been able to come up with anything. However, if David wanted to hang out in Vancouver for a week in order to attend one evening's concert, Christian wasn't going to call him on it, because he damn sure didn't want to talk about what David's real reasons were.

Not that the near-weekly phone calls asking about his life, his health, and oh yeah had he done anything about Steve yet weren't enough. Now he was here, telling everyone who would stand still long enough that Christian needed to get his head out of his ass.

Like he thought Christian didn't know how he felt about Steve, how much it had fucking hurt when they'd broken up and Christian had tried and failed to re-build his life without him. As if Christian didn't understand why it had been such a relief when he'd finally picked up the phone and somehow, someway, convinced Steve to give him another chance. He'd managed to promise they'd stay friends this time, they'd play together, and he made it very clear that he wasn't asking for anything more. Steve had been beyond gracious and forgiving, and over the last several months they'd renegotiated themselves into something not quite like their friendship before, but something that made Christian thankful he'd given in that night and dialed the phone number he'd once sworn he'd never use again.

And now all his friends kept acting like he didn't know he wouldn't rather have more than he deserved.

Christian found himself on the back porch, another bottle of beer in his hand, staring out at the yard. Night had fallen and the huge yard was full of knots of people, a handful of dogs running around playing with each other and getting tangled in people's feet. Someone threw a ball and three dogs took off running after it; it barely seemed to make a dent in the noise and chaos.

He watched as the ball bounced into the shadows of some bushes and his stomach clenched. He took a swift drink of his beer and forced himself to think about what he was gonna do about David. Ignore him, get him arrested going back across the border? Tell his wife that David had gotten pregnant?

It probably wouldn't work, since she knew all about him and Steve and was likely to just ask him about it if Christian called her.

He didn't understand why nobody other than Steve took him at his word when he said he wasn't asking for more. He'd tried it once, when he'd been young and stupid and head over heels in love. He'd foolishly thought love could fix anything, and when he'd realized it couldn't fix a damn thing he'd wrenched himself free and run. He knew he'd broken Steve's heart; he'd broken his own as well, but nobody seemed to feel sympathy for him the way they did for Steve. Not that he deserved their sympathy. He'd been the one to fool around behind Steve's back and had been the one to call it quits after the fight when Steve had found out. But he was older, now, and wise enough to accept that there were some things he simply couldn't wish for.

They were friends again, and Steve had forgiven him. Christian knew that was a hell of a lot more than he had any right to ask for.

There was a footfall behind him, then Jensen stepped up beside him. Christian gave him a wary nod, not up to more of the 'Christian's an ass' game. But Jensen looked out at his guests, watching them for a long moment before speaking.

"I just wanted to ask you," Jensen began. "Not because I'm being a nosy jerk like David. But you and Steve -- you're really not in a relationship?"

Christian forced himself not to growl. "We're not."

Jensen just nodded and said in a tone of apology, "I just ask because.. well, a friend of mine. He and his wife they're... They like taking someone home with them sometimes." He turned back towards the living room and nodded.

Christian followed his gaze and saw Steve standing with a man and a woman, all of them talking and laughing. Standing close. As he watched, the woman put her hand on Steve's shoulder, leaned in to say something with a delighted and hopeful expression on her face.

Christian turned back around. "Steve can do as he pleases," he said quietly. He was gripping his beer bottle tightly, forced himself to loosen his grip and take a casual drink.

"So you're not... It's OK? I can tell Misha to pick up someone else," Jensen offered.

"Steve's a grown man," Christian told him, taking a deep breath and keeping his voice even. "He can go home with anybody he likes." He turned and gave Jensen a look, trying for as much sincerity as he could. "We're not in a relationship. It's none of my business."

Jensen looked at him for a moment, then nodded and slipped back into the house. Christian went to take another drink of his beer and found that he'd finished it. He headed back into the kitchen and found the bar Jared had set up and poured himself a drink, something stiffer than beer.

He downed it in one gulp then poured another, and proceeded to get very, thoroughly drunk.

~~~

"Kaoyu, are you there?" Christian peered through the bushes that surrounded the glade where the portal always opened. He'd opened it in the wall of his treehouse just like Kaoyu had shown him. Three times now he'd done it, each time half-expecting it wouldn't work, half-expecting the Wild wasn't really real, despite the fact he'd gone home with scrapes on his knees from falling down the rocky slope on his first adventure in the Wild. His momma had put Band-aids on them even though they hadn't really been that bad. He'd gotten worse when he'd fallen off the shed's low roof on his roller skates; he could still see those scars on his leg, jagged white lines that Momma said were there to remind him not to do that sort of thing again.

He was pretty sure that just going into the Wild didn't count as 'that sort of thing' even though the last time he'd come to the Wild he'd risked getting into trouble for getting home late. But he'd taken Kaoyu's word that time really did pass differently in the Wild than it did back home. He'd brought a stuffed backpack and set up camp and spent the whole night in the Wild, not going back until the next day. Kaoyu had told him over and over that it would only ever be a couple hours later when he returned. He hadn't slept at all that night, wondering if his momma and daddy were out searching for him, if they'd called the cops to come drag the creek that ran near their house. But as soon as the sun had come up and he'd stuffed his mouth with berries and jerky for breakfast, he'd run back through the portal and found himself on his hands and knees in the middle of his treehouse, and the radio clock he'd left there said it was the same day he'd left, barely after noon.

This time he'd packed a backpack for a couple of days. Food and a blanket and a flashlight, along with the penknife his grandpa had given him. Kaoyu had told him about the adventures they could have a day's hike or more away from the portal's clearing. There were huge, stone statues to see and deep caves to explore, and fantastic beasts the likes of which he'd never seen before. There was even, Kaoyu told him, a sea with pirates off to the East, but it was a week's hike away and Christian wasn't sure he was ready for that just yet.

But he knew he wouldn't be missed if he stayed in the Wild a day or two, so he'd come ready to camp out and explore. He heard a rustle in the bushes then small flying dragon appeared, flying in a loop-de-loop before coming to hover in front of him.

"Kaoyu!" Christian held out the slice of apple he'd learned was his friend's favorite treat. The little dragon snapped it out of his hand, spinning around in a tight spiral before swallowing it down in one gulp.

It twittered at him, a high-pitched fluttering of notes that Christian was still learning to translate. Back home he'd tried listening to the birds to see if their songs were words, like Kaoyu's. But so far he hadn't been able to figure any of them out. But he could understand Kaoyu pretty well by now and it was getting easier every time he visited.

He held his hand out and Kaoyu took the invitation to land on Christian's back, wrapping his body and tail around Christian's hip and front legs perched on his shoulder. Christian looked at him, grinning. "Let's go explore!"

With an eager trill, Kaoyu whistled his agreement and together the boy and dragon headed off into the trees.

~~~

He woke with a start, opening his eyes to a dark room and a splitting headache. Christian groaned softly and closed his eyes again, burying his face in the pillow. The hangover wasn't a surprise, was miles away from being even remotely unfamiliar. He lay still for a few minutes, gathering the strength to stand up and find aspirin and a bathroom.

He heard someone flipping a light switch and opening a door; confused, he raised his head and blinked. He was in a hotel room, and Steve was coming out of the bathroom and heading towards him.

"There's water and aspirin," Steve said indicating the night stand with a nod. "The coffee maker in this room is broken, but we can get some downstairs, unless you'd rather go back to sleep."

Christian tried blinking again. His head pounded, even his eyeballs ached. But that was probably from the dehydration; he shoved himself somewhat upright and grabbed the glass of water, downing half of it in three long gulps.

He looked over and saw Steve smirking at him. Christian just flipped him off. It wasn't like Steve hadn't had just as many hangovers in his time, crawling back from the dead the morning after a show or a party. He took the aspirin and drained the rest of the water and Steve came over, taking the glass from him and heading back to the bathroom.

Looking around, Christian realised he wasn't in the hotel room he'd checked into the day before. He levered himself up, out of bed, and waited until the urge to beat his skull with a rock subsided. Steve's luggage was sitting on the floor off to one side; he recognised the duffel with its grinning skull tag attached to the zipper. When Steve had invited him to Vancouver for the gig, they hadn't talked about sharing a room. They hadn't really talked at all beyond 'see you in Vancouver' and 'don't forget the lyrics this time, asshole.'

As Steve came back with the refilled glass, Christian said, "Thought you were heading off with...Jensen's friend and his wife." It dawned on his pain-fogged brain that while Steve had said he'd be here for the whole week and had told him they had a gig for Friday, Christian had actually invited himself up for the week, arguing that Portland wasn't very far away and he might as well make a vacation out of it.

But maybe Steve had had other plans and hadn't really expected Christian to be around.

Steve gave him a look that was nearly blank, but there was something in his eyes Christian knew he should have been able to interpret. Then the look was gone and Steve just shook his head. "Someone had to make sure you didn't choke on your own vomit, or sign yourself up for a jazz concert."

"It was a jazz seminar and I was in college. I thought it would be--" He stopped himself as he saw the grin on Steve's face. He just drank more of the water, then asked, "There's coffee?"

"You're taking a shower first, then we can head down to the breakfast buffet. There's bound to be coffee there."

Christian just nodded, and as Steve turned towards his duffel bag, Christian caught sight of a tattoo on Steve's shoulder that he'd never seen before. It was a shark's head with an open mouth, crashing out of a stylish wave -- almost not quite the same style as his other tattoos, so not the same artist but someone who'd tried to make it look similar, maybe.

But he'd never seen it before and the tattoo was clearly not new. He felt a pang, shooting its way through the pain of his headache. He'd once known his lover's body as well as his own, knew each tattoo as vividly as he knew the color of Steve's eyes. The Chinese tiger had always been his favorite, right on Steve's hip where Christian's fingers dug in when they fucked.

Steve caught him staring and raised an eyebrow. Christian caught a tension there that he didn't understand. Christian gestured. "Haven't noticed that one before. Your shark."

There was a half-smirk that looked more like regret than amusement. "Guess the last couple of times we've been naked you haven't been staring at my shoulder."

"Guess not." Christian shrugged.

"Got it about five months ago, down in San Diego." He turned a bit, showing Christian his shoulder and the tattoo.

Five months. Christian would have sworn they'd had sex more than twice in that time. A weekend at Steve's place and a night at his own, and yeah, they'd been drinking all weekend and the night in Portland he'd been too exhausted to pay much attention to anything more than the hand on his dick and Steve's tongue in his mouth.

He slowly realised the other times had been a collection of handjobs and blowjobs, quick and dirty and not much more than unzipping each other's jeans. So maybe he hadn't noticed the new tattoo, maybe it was reasonable that he hadn't seen it until now.

It made him feel ashamed, even though he told himself he had no need to be. He took himself off to the bathroom for his shower, saying nothing more to Steve. They'd agreed, and he was sticking by his promise. Besides, Steve wasn't exactly pushing Christian to make a commitment he'd already shown he couldn't handle.

Maybe some time this week they could-- Christian stopped himself from thinking any further. Steve had brought Christian back to his hotel room because he'd been drunk off his ass and it was as much as any friend would do.

It wasn't until he was out of the shower and looking for his clothes from last night that he found his own luggage sitting on the floor on the other side of the bed. He stared at it for a long moment before going over and digging out some clean clothes.

"David brought it over," Steve said from behind him, his voice quiet, like he'd thought Christian might spook. "I lost the coin toss as to who got to hold your hair while you threw up in the bushes outside."

"Thanks, I'll--"

"You might as well stay here," Steve continued, apparently trying for casual but he sounded hesitant and wary.

Christian looked over at him, wondering if there was any good reason he should listen to the voice in his head that was screaming at him. If what they had didn't mean anything, there was no reason not spend the week together. Fun and easy. Didn't have to mean a thing. He grinned. "Sure."

Steve smiled at him, but his shoulders were still tensed and his hands were lying still at his sides. Steve was never completely still when he was relaxed, hands always moving and he could never stay on his feet without shifting around, as if dancing to music only he could hear.

"You promised me coffee," Christian said, trying to break himself free of the urge to demand to know what the hell was wrong.

"So get dressed, already, and we'll go." Steve glanced downwards, then leered in a way that proved he would never be an actor.

"You look like you swallowed a lemon," Christian told him.

Steve just flipped him off, but he laughed as well, and Christian decided that he'd come up here to relax and have fun, dammit, so he shoved everything else away to the back of his mind and concentrated on putting on his clothes without making his still-pounding head explode from the impact of soft cotton on his skull.

~~~

part two