Pango McStarr (tobiasdominik) wrote in dico_raab_love,
Pango McStarr

Hello! I’m Tobias, and I come bearing a half fic. I hope you all enjoy!

Title: Rain storm
Pairing: Raco
Summary: ‘Just for tonight,’ Raab states, slowly, ‘Let’s pretend to be someone else.’ - Angst ahoy.

‘Just for tonight,’ Raab states, slowly, ‘Let’s pretend to be someone else.’ Brandon doesn’t pretend to understand what he means; just lets the younger man lead him down the hall and out into the yard, into the rain. It’s been raining for two days straight; flooding the entire estate in a muddy, lake like area of water.

‘I want to be beautiful for once.’ Raab’s voice barely carries through the downpour to Brandon, even though he’s standing right beside him, arms raised in the air. Slowly, the arms fall back to Raab’s sides, and Brandon watches in amazement as his companion turned mournful eyes on him.

‘I’m not drunk.’ It’s said with such clarity that Brandon has no choice; he HAS to believe it. Raab isn’t drunk, and that’s such a strange concept that he has to stare at him for a good long moment before nodding.

‘And I’m not sober. What’s your point?’ He waits for an answer; waits and watches at the sky lights up with imaginary light bolts he may or may not be hallucinating. He’s not sure; it’s been a long night and he’s had one too many drinks to think clearly.

And really, wasn’t that more Raab’s line then his?

‘I think I like it better when I can be just Chris. Don’t you ever get tired of being Dico?’ Brandon doesn’t understand the question, because he’s always Dico, he IS Dico. He has no choice in the matter; he was BORN Dico.

‘I would stop drinking for you, you know. If you really wanted me to. I think I’m getting sick. I think I might die.’ Brandon doesn’t know if Raab is serious or not, not until he finds himself with an armful of Chris Raab. This is scary, he thinks, because he’s standing in the middle of one of the biggest storms this year and Raab thinks he’s going to die.

‘Why?” he asks, “Why do you think you might die?” Raab pulls at his shirt, looking away, looking at the ground, the sky, anywhere’s but Brandon. Brandon touches his face, urging bright eyes to turn to him.

“The doctor says my liver is showing signs of failing. I don’t want to die. I still haven’t done a shit load of things I wanted to. This isn’t fair.” Brandon reaches out, pulling Raab close, and let’s out a soft sigh. He doesn’t want this to be happening. He doesn’t want Chris Raab to die. He loves Chris Raab.

“I love you.” It’s as simple as that; he lets the words slip from his mouth as he thinks about Raab laying still in a hospital bed. He can’t let that happen. He can’t.

“I love you too. Don’t…don’t let go of me?” Brandon nods, holding onto Raab as if he can keep him safe, from this storm and from this threat that could overcome them.

“I promise. I’ll never let go.”

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