Craig/Andrew - Sunrise, A Meditation
Oct. 13th, 2009 12:10 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wolfanficsTitle: Sunrise, A Meditation
Author: Sashataakheru
Fandom: The Chaser RPS!AU
Starring: Andrew Hansen, girl!Craig Reucassel
Pairings: Andrew/others, girl!Craig/others, girl!Craig/Andrew
Word Count: 2,000
Prompt: 028 – Anonymous for citrus_taste (table)
Warnings: drug use, sexual references, implied violence
Rating: FRM
Disclaimer: Not true in any way, shape or form.
Author’s Notes: IDEK. For some reason, prostitute!Andrew always has to smoke (weed). Also, this is a sans-fame AU, where they just go on to regular jobs after uni. Also, Craig, for once, didn’t insist on feminine pronouns. Go figure. :/
Summary: Different paths led Andrew and Craig to sex work on the streets of Brisvegas, but the past doesn’t matter when all that matters is living in the moment. Set 2009.
Sunrise, A Meditation
“The stars make me feel so small right now.”
“But, baby, don’t they take your breath away?”
4:00 am
Andrew sat on the sand, watching the waves slowly wash upon the shore. The sun was beginning to rise, and the horizon had taken on a purple tinge, though the sun itself wasn’t yet visible above the ocean. The last remnants of stars still hung in the sky, fighting against the coming dawn. Andrew lit a cigarette and let the smoke drift away from him as the slight breeze caught it. He was tired and ready to find somewhere to sleep. He had long since pushed his qualms about sex work to the back of his mind; it kept him alive when nothing else did, where was the fault in that?
Looking for a distraction, he counted his money again. What he had in his hand was what was left over. It was all the income he had. He was always disappointed he never earned enough for proper housing. Things were looking up, though. Pooling his income with Craig, another street worker he’d become friends with, they’d managed to get enough to afford a small one bedroom unit. It wasn’t great, but it was a place to sleep and secure housing meant not having to worry about where all his belongings were at any one moment. He knew better than to advertise his luck though. There were plenty of homeless sluts around who’d have happily mugged him. They probably would mug him anyway, though at least he had their sympathies. That he was one of them afforded him some protection.
The sun had just breached the horizon. There was a small sliver of orange that had broken free from the water below and the air shimmered around it. The sky was brighter, more orange and less purple. Only the brightest stars were still visible, and only then in the western sky behind them where the sun’s rays hadn’t reached yet.
Andrew counted the waves and his heartbeat and listened for the sound of seagulls. He lay back on the sand and closed his eyes. It felt good to stop at last. It had been a very long night. Now it was time to wind down and relax, and get some sleep until he had to work again.
He smoked slowly, intent on thoroughly enjoying it. There was no rush now; he could sit on that dune and smoke until his flatmate joined him. They always went home together after work.
Andrew, Four Years Ago
Andrew wasn’t sure at what point he had given up on fame. He was good enough that busking had brought in enough money to keep him alive, but there was a sense of stagnation about his life that he wanted to escape. Nothing changed. Nothing got worse, but neither did anything get better.
At a loss as to how to change anything, he decided he needed to get out of the city and into a completely different environment. So one morning, he packed a few things he couldn’t bear to leave behind, abandoned his flat, and drove off to Brisbane.
5:30am
Sometime later, Andrew heard someone approach; their footsteps fell lightly on the crisp sand. Andrew looked up as Craig sighed and sunk down into the sand next to him, kicking off his heels.
“Jesus Christ. I feel like I’ve been working since yesterday. Pass me a fag, yeah?”
“I was wondering when you’d turn up,” Andrew said, offering him a cigarette.
“Thanks, possum.” Craig lit up and leant back as he exhaled. “How many’d you get? I lost track of you after about 2am.”
“Got chatting to some bloke in a pub. Was quite happy to keep buying me drinks and slipping me notes if I sat with him. I could think of worse things to do.”
“And you fucked him, yeah?”
“Blew him outside in his car. Wanker.”
Craig chuckled. “You do ring in the classy ones, don’t you? What kind of car?”
“Beat up old Barina. I noticed a few magazines hidden under the seat. I suspect I’ll run into him again.”
“Do let me know if you shag him. He’d probably thank you for it.”
“I’ll make sure to charge him double.” Andrew glanced at him. “And since we’re on the topic of sex, who was that dashing princess I saw you with just after midnight?”
“I’m not allowed to say, on pain of death.”
Andrew gave him a look of disbelief. “You serious? No way do we get top-end clients, not round here.”
“Why are you so surprised? He’s probably used up all the tarts in town and wanted some fresh meat. I was, as always, happy to oblige.”
“You’ll get yourself in trouble one day. You don’t know when to stop.”
“Mate, that’s how they like me.”
Craig flexed his toes as he lay there. Andrew shivered a little. Craig took his hand and smiled.
Craig, Three Years Ago
Craig hadn’t meant to hurt her, but he couldn’t hide it any more. She’d found some lingerie in his drawer and thought he was cheating. He broke down and told her he was a woman.
He thought she’d stay, that she’d understand. But it was too late for all that. She’d gone, the house was far too empty, and all he had left was a bottle of vodka and a letter telling him he’d been made redundant.
With nothing to do once he’d cleaned out his office, he spent his time drifting. What was there to do? She was not interested in reconciliation. He had too many things to think about, such as coming out. His best mate Charles had tried to comfort him and give him some support, but it wasn’t easy, and Craig shed far too many tears.
He knew he’d lose the house. Saw that coming a mile off. The one good thing he’d managed to do was sell up, pocket the money, and take the spare room Charles offered, at least until he got back on his feet again.
Charles didn’t know that would mean leaving in the dead of night to drive north to Queensland.
6:15am
Andrew sighed and stared up at the sky. They’d moved on from nicotine to weed. Andrew inhaled deeply, joint held delicately between his fingers. “You know, life’s not really that bad, is it?”
Craig blew smoke over their heads and lazily traced patterns in it with his finger. “What, apart from the shitty flat, the stupid hours, all the constant sex, and that stalker guy? Oh yeah, totally perfect.”
“Given the alternatives, I hardly think this is so bad. We could be, like, garbage collectors or something.”
“Since when is being a garbo worse than a slut? At least they get respect. I just get spat on.” Craig sifted the sand through his fingers as a distraction.
“Well, if you will wear drag, my dear, you can hardly complain.”
“Please. That’s not an excuse and you know it. Sex pays when nothing else will.” Craig sighed. “You know, sometimes I wonder what life would’ve been like if I was still back home, you know? I wonder where they are.”
Andrew took his hand without speaking. Neither of them bothered talking about how they’d come to this and what they’d left behind. Not remembering was better than guilt.
Craig, Two Years Ago
He’d needed a fresh start. He rented a small flat with what money he had, hoping it would keep him afloat until he could find a permanent job. Somehow, he’d stumbled onto sex work. He had been reluctant to take it up, but after a frustrating few months trying to secure a job with his skills, only to be told he’d need to retrain, it was one of the only options left.
Mindless sex was something he got good at, and the drag had been a client’s suggestion. Craig agreed; he never told them he was trans, though. He didn’t need trouble if he could avoid it.
He’d met Andrew at the beach one morning. Craig had noticed him a few weeks back and hadn’t bothered to approach, well, not until he knew he was a slut like him. He could do with a friend. Craig eventually approached and offered him a joint. They smoked together and philosophised about the cloud formations.
Andrew had been jealous he had a flat to live in. He’d gone from stagnation in Sydney to stagnation in Brisbane, and he’d been homeless far longer than he was willing to admit. Busking had kept him fed, like it had before, but it wasn’t enough for a house. Craig suggested they get a place together; he still had enough money left over to get by, though he had always tried not to touch it if he could help it. He’d gotten very good at living on as little as possible.
Andrew wanted to say no to his offer; however, the pros outweighed the cons. They found a flat closer to the beach. Andrew moved his few possessions in. Craig stayed up that first night and watched him sleep, wondering why he couldn’t keep his eyes off him.
7:00am
Their apartment block was just waking up as they arrived home. They’d learnt to slip in discreetly to avoid being seen by others who might not approve of two prostitutes living nearby. Craig headed off to shower while Andrew grabbed them both some breakfast. Craig found him waiting in bed, sipping some tea. He’d changed into something far less glamorous.
“I feel like I should slip into something sexy for you,” Craig said as he joined him.
Andrew smiled. “A kiss’ll do just fine.”
Craig kissed him and settled, enjoying the way the cereal danced in the bowl before him.
Andrew, A Year Ago
Andrew had started playing again. He’d barely touched his guitar since he’d taken up sex work. There had been little energy left, and no inspiration. Living with Craig, however, had coaxed his muse out of its shell. He’d even started playing at a couple of pubs as a way to boost his income. It kept the monotonous life of sex and sleep at bay.
He still vividly remembered the night they got together. Neither had really talked about their sexuality much, though given the work they did, there was always a possibility they could both be interested. It had been Andrew’s birthday. They’d met at the beach, planning on having a little celebration, a suitably mundane thing in a life that was far from mundane.
Craig had brought a rug, some drinks, some breakfast from McDonalds, and some sparkly party hats. They sat on the sand and watched the sun rise. Andrew had thought the hats were a little unnecessary, but it was a nice touch. It felt normal. Andrew hadn’t had a proper birthday celebration since he’d left Sydney.
They’d eaten and shared a small bottle of cheap champas as the sun rose over the ocean. It was then that Craig decided to kiss him. Andrew hesitated, but went with it. He hadn’t felt the touch of someone who wasn’t a client for a long time. They stopped and moved back an inch, staring at each other.
They talked. Craig had never seemed so insecure. Andrew just wanted to protect him. Craig had never spoken about the few times he’d been injured on the job, but Andrew knew. They were nights he didn’t sleep as he lay awake, gently caressing his bruises as he slept.
They didn’t discuss their pasts either. It had become an unspoken rule that the past was forgotten and not worth worrying about. Andrew had worked out a few things from the few times Craig had slipped over the years, but it wasn’t enough to piece together the whole picture and Andrew respected him too much to ask about it.
Craig gave him a birthday present. It was a small gift, but it didn’t seem to matter. Andrew wanted to cry. He slipped it under his pillow when they got home. They lay in bed together and let sleep take over. Andrew rested in his arms, leaning against his chest. He had never felt safer.
Author: Sashataakheru
Fandom: The Chaser RPS!AU
Starring: Andrew Hansen, girl!Craig Reucassel
Pairings: Andrew/others, girl!Craig/others, girl!Craig/Andrew
Word Count: 2,000
Prompt: 028 – Anonymous for citrus_taste (table)
Warnings: drug use, sexual references, implied violence
Rating: FRM
Disclaimer: Not true in any way, shape or form.
Author’s Notes: IDEK. For some reason, prostitute!Andrew always has to smoke (weed). Also, this is a sans-fame AU, where they just go on to regular jobs after uni. Also, Craig, for once, didn’t insist on feminine pronouns. Go figure. :/
Summary: Different paths led Andrew and Craig to sex work on the streets of Brisvegas, but the past doesn’t matter when all that matters is living in the moment. Set 2009.
Sunrise, A Meditation
“The stars make me feel so small right now.”
“But, baby, don’t they take your breath away?”
4:00 am
Andrew sat on the sand, watching the waves slowly wash upon the shore. The sun was beginning to rise, and the horizon had taken on a purple tinge, though the sun itself wasn’t yet visible above the ocean. The last remnants of stars still hung in the sky, fighting against the coming dawn. Andrew lit a cigarette and let the smoke drift away from him as the slight breeze caught it. He was tired and ready to find somewhere to sleep. He had long since pushed his qualms about sex work to the back of his mind; it kept him alive when nothing else did, where was the fault in that?
Looking for a distraction, he counted his money again. What he had in his hand was what was left over. It was all the income he had. He was always disappointed he never earned enough for proper housing. Things were looking up, though. Pooling his income with Craig, another street worker he’d become friends with, they’d managed to get enough to afford a small one bedroom unit. It wasn’t great, but it was a place to sleep and secure housing meant not having to worry about where all his belongings were at any one moment. He knew better than to advertise his luck though. There were plenty of homeless sluts around who’d have happily mugged him. They probably would mug him anyway, though at least he had their sympathies. That he was one of them afforded him some protection.
The sun had just breached the horizon. There was a small sliver of orange that had broken free from the water below and the air shimmered around it. The sky was brighter, more orange and less purple. Only the brightest stars were still visible, and only then in the western sky behind them where the sun’s rays hadn’t reached yet.
Andrew counted the waves and his heartbeat and listened for the sound of seagulls. He lay back on the sand and closed his eyes. It felt good to stop at last. It had been a very long night. Now it was time to wind down and relax, and get some sleep until he had to work again.
He smoked slowly, intent on thoroughly enjoying it. There was no rush now; he could sit on that dune and smoke until his flatmate joined him. They always went home together after work.
Andrew, Four Years Ago
Andrew wasn’t sure at what point he had given up on fame. He was good enough that busking had brought in enough money to keep him alive, but there was a sense of stagnation about his life that he wanted to escape. Nothing changed. Nothing got worse, but neither did anything get better.
At a loss as to how to change anything, he decided he needed to get out of the city and into a completely different environment. So one morning, he packed a few things he couldn’t bear to leave behind, abandoned his flat, and drove off to Brisbane.
5:30am
Sometime later, Andrew heard someone approach; their footsteps fell lightly on the crisp sand. Andrew looked up as Craig sighed and sunk down into the sand next to him, kicking off his heels.
“Jesus Christ. I feel like I’ve been working since yesterday. Pass me a fag, yeah?”
“I was wondering when you’d turn up,” Andrew said, offering him a cigarette.
“Thanks, possum.” Craig lit up and leant back as he exhaled. “How many’d you get? I lost track of you after about 2am.”
“Got chatting to some bloke in a pub. Was quite happy to keep buying me drinks and slipping me notes if I sat with him. I could think of worse things to do.”
“And you fucked him, yeah?”
“Blew him outside in his car. Wanker.”
Craig chuckled. “You do ring in the classy ones, don’t you? What kind of car?”
“Beat up old Barina. I noticed a few magazines hidden under the seat. I suspect I’ll run into him again.”
“Do let me know if you shag him. He’d probably thank you for it.”
“I’ll make sure to charge him double.” Andrew glanced at him. “And since we’re on the topic of sex, who was that dashing princess I saw you with just after midnight?”
“I’m not allowed to say, on pain of death.”
Andrew gave him a look of disbelief. “You serious? No way do we get top-end clients, not round here.”
“Why are you so surprised? He’s probably used up all the tarts in town and wanted some fresh meat. I was, as always, happy to oblige.”
“You’ll get yourself in trouble one day. You don’t know when to stop.”
“Mate, that’s how they like me.”
Craig flexed his toes as he lay there. Andrew shivered a little. Craig took his hand and smiled.
Craig, Three Years Ago
Craig hadn’t meant to hurt her, but he couldn’t hide it any more. She’d found some lingerie in his drawer and thought he was cheating. He broke down and told her he was a woman.
He thought she’d stay, that she’d understand. But it was too late for all that. She’d gone, the house was far too empty, and all he had left was a bottle of vodka and a letter telling him he’d been made redundant.
With nothing to do once he’d cleaned out his office, he spent his time drifting. What was there to do? She was not interested in reconciliation. He had too many things to think about, such as coming out. His best mate Charles had tried to comfort him and give him some support, but it wasn’t easy, and Craig shed far too many tears.
He knew he’d lose the house. Saw that coming a mile off. The one good thing he’d managed to do was sell up, pocket the money, and take the spare room Charles offered, at least until he got back on his feet again.
Charles didn’t know that would mean leaving in the dead of night to drive north to Queensland.
6:15am
Andrew sighed and stared up at the sky. They’d moved on from nicotine to weed. Andrew inhaled deeply, joint held delicately between his fingers. “You know, life’s not really that bad, is it?”
Craig blew smoke over their heads and lazily traced patterns in it with his finger. “What, apart from the shitty flat, the stupid hours, all the constant sex, and that stalker guy? Oh yeah, totally perfect.”
“Given the alternatives, I hardly think this is so bad. We could be, like, garbage collectors or something.”
“Since when is being a garbo worse than a slut? At least they get respect. I just get spat on.” Craig sifted the sand through his fingers as a distraction.
“Well, if you will wear drag, my dear, you can hardly complain.”
“Please. That’s not an excuse and you know it. Sex pays when nothing else will.” Craig sighed. “You know, sometimes I wonder what life would’ve been like if I was still back home, you know? I wonder where they are.”
Andrew took his hand without speaking. Neither of them bothered talking about how they’d come to this and what they’d left behind. Not remembering was better than guilt.
Craig, Two Years Ago
He’d needed a fresh start. He rented a small flat with what money he had, hoping it would keep him afloat until he could find a permanent job. Somehow, he’d stumbled onto sex work. He had been reluctant to take it up, but after a frustrating few months trying to secure a job with his skills, only to be told he’d need to retrain, it was one of the only options left.
Mindless sex was something he got good at, and the drag had been a client’s suggestion. Craig agreed; he never told them he was trans, though. He didn’t need trouble if he could avoid it.
He’d met Andrew at the beach one morning. Craig had noticed him a few weeks back and hadn’t bothered to approach, well, not until he knew he was a slut like him. He could do with a friend. Craig eventually approached and offered him a joint. They smoked together and philosophised about the cloud formations.
Andrew had been jealous he had a flat to live in. He’d gone from stagnation in Sydney to stagnation in Brisbane, and he’d been homeless far longer than he was willing to admit. Busking had kept him fed, like it had before, but it wasn’t enough for a house. Craig suggested they get a place together; he still had enough money left over to get by, though he had always tried not to touch it if he could help it. He’d gotten very good at living on as little as possible.
Andrew wanted to say no to his offer; however, the pros outweighed the cons. They found a flat closer to the beach. Andrew moved his few possessions in. Craig stayed up that first night and watched him sleep, wondering why he couldn’t keep his eyes off him.
7:00am
Their apartment block was just waking up as they arrived home. They’d learnt to slip in discreetly to avoid being seen by others who might not approve of two prostitutes living nearby. Craig headed off to shower while Andrew grabbed them both some breakfast. Craig found him waiting in bed, sipping some tea. He’d changed into something far less glamorous.
“I feel like I should slip into something sexy for you,” Craig said as he joined him.
Andrew smiled. “A kiss’ll do just fine.”
Craig kissed him and settled, enjoying the way the cereal danced in the bowl before him.
Andrew, A Year Ago
Andrew had started playing again. He’d barely touched his guitar since he’d taken up sex work. There had been little energy left, and no inspiration. Living with Craig, however, had coaxed his muse out of its shell. He’d even started playing at a couple of pubs as a way to boost his income. It kept the monotonous life of sex and sleep at bay.
He still vividly remembered the night they got together. Neither had really talked about their sexuality much, though given the work they did, there was always a possibility they could both be interested. It had been Andrew’s birthday. They’d met at the beach, planning on having a little celebration, a suitably mundane thing in a life that was far from mundane.
Craig had brought a rug, some drinks, some breakfast from McDonalds, and some sparkly party hats. They sat on the sand and watched the sun rise. Andrew had thought the hats were a little unnecessary, but it was a nice touch. It felt normal. Andrew hadn’t had a proper birthday celebration since he’d left Sydney.
They’d eaten and shared a small bottle of cheap champas as the sun rose over the ocean. It was then that Craig decided to kiss him. Andrew hesitated, but went with it. He hadn’t felt the touch of someone who wasn’t a client for a long time. They stopped and moved back an inch, staring at each other.
They talked. Craig had never seemed so insecure. Andrew just wanted to protect him. Craig had never spoken about the few times he’d been injured on the job, but Andrew knew. They were nights he didn’t sleep as he lay awake, gently caressing his bruises as he slept.
They didn’t discuss their pasts either. It had become an unspoken rule that the past was forgotten and not worth worrying about. Andrew had worked out a few things from the few times Craig had slipped over the years, but it wasn’t enough to piece together the whole picture and Andrew respected him too much to ask about it.
Craig gave him a birthday present. It was a small gift, but it didn’t seem to matter. Andrew wanted to cry. He slipped it under his pillow when they got home. They lay in bed together and let sleep take over. Andrew rested in his arms, leaning against his chest. He had never felt safer.