Crush by Occula (R)

[lydia-petze.livejournal.com]

Fandom: U2
Pairing: Adam Clayton/The Edge
Author on LJ: occula
Author Website:Love Is Blindness and u2slash. Please note to join u2slash you must have your birth year on your LJ profile.
Why this must be read:

I'm bunching my recs a little, here, because I am sort of chasing a certain band to three concerts in two states this week and am going to run out of time if I don't! Your patience is appreciated :-)

You always have a fondness for the first story you read in a fandom, don't you? Thing is, how often can you go back after that first honeymoon flush is over and find that the shine hasn't worn off? Crush is one of my favourite stories in U2 fandom, and it's not even my preferred pairing. (That happens to me a lot, LOL).

The title is self-explanatory, Adam develops a wee crush on Edge and sets about seducing him. Gradually - one thing about Occula is that nothing ever happens so quickly as to defy belief. He eventually gets him into bed, where they have some damn hot sex, not to mention an emotional epiphany. Next morning, however, Adam is overwhelmed by it all and in some misguided fit of self-protectiveness, he plays it cool and pretends he doesn't remember what happened, shattering Edge into a million pieces.

What follows is good old fashioned slash angst, as Edge and Adam hurt and withdraw into themselves and Bono and Larry worry and scold and comfort and give the kind of exasperated support only old friends who've known you forever and love you unconditionally can give. Part of why I love this story so damn much is that that's a bit of a kink of mine, but the Larry and Bono of this story, though limited by neccessity, are wonderfully characterised. There's plenty to like even if you aren't an angst-fan.



Dallas disappeared and I stood there with a scattering of cigarettes about my feet. Larry scrutinized me. Then Dallas came out of the meeting room with Bono and they headed toward the entrance, talking together. Christ, Dallas had gone to fetch Edge’s fucking caretaker. They stopped and talked and then Bono continued out to where Edge was sitting like an abandoned child.

I could see Bono start to ask questions. Edge shook his head. Bono sat by him and Edge shook his head again, hard, turning his face away. Bono put his arm around him.

Fuck the smokes. I had plenty in my room. I headed for the elevators while Larry was still staring after Bono. I made it without him coming after me. I had to try a couple of times before I managed to push the button to my floor. Then I looked at myself in the mirrored wall of the lift compartment. With loathing.

I made it into my room and to the bathroom before I vomited. Repeatedly. That had been hideous. I chose to believe that it was the throwing up that made my eyes watery.

I had calmed down and was packing when it occurred to me that I wanted to keep the note that I’d thrown away earlier. It wasn’t much of a souvenir, but at least I’d have that much. I had left the “do not disturb” tag out that morning, so the rubbish was still there. I reached into it and … what was this? I dumped the contents of the can onto the bed. There was my note, crumpled. Cigarette packet cellophane. And a little sheaf of paper, folded once, from that hotel pad of paper.

I guess we were both pretty drunk. Thanks for letting me crash here. Sorry to be so cryptic. You know why I’ll say nothing more. See you later.

Adam, Thanks for letting me crash here. Guess we were pretty drunk.

Dear Adam, That was all that one said.

And finally:

Adam, I’m sorry I had to leave to meet B. this morning. Last night … I don’t know what to say, it was amazing. Thanks. Thank you. I’ll see you soon.

The man had written rough drafts. Rough drafts of his note to me.

Oh. I loved him completely, unreservedly. He had sat there while I slept and written these little notes, trying to find the right tone, the right words. It was so characteristic of him.

Then I had deliberately taken his final product in the worst possible light and had done what I had done to him just now.

If you’d asked me the day before, or six months before, or six years, I would have told you that I already hated myself as much as was possible. Today I just kept finding new depths. I stood there thinking what a terrible, selfish, and truly fucked-up individual I was. That perhaps I needed actual help of some kind.

The sudden furious knocking on my door startled the hell out of me. “You had better fucking be in there.”

Larry, of course. He scowled at me as I let him in. “Well?”

“Well what?” I asked.

“Tell me what the fuck is going on, and what the fuck I just witnessed.”

Well, I had known this was coming. I hesitated, but God knows I needed to talk to somebody. I would tell Larry everything and he would make it better somehow in that F-word-laden, loving, surly Larry way of his. He could help me somehow. He always did, always had.



Crush

Comments

[occula.livejournal.com]

Thank you SO much. I particularly savor this reccing because I really felt like I kind of hit my stride, writing that one, and discovered my pairing and who my Adam was going to be. It might or might not be the best thing I've written, but it's certainly closest to my heart.