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15 January 2011 @ 05:50 pm
fic, Dark Tower series: five times Cuthbert kissed Roland... (Roland/Cuthbert), PG13  
Title: three times Cuthbert kissed Roland, and two when he was kissed instead [AO3]
Pairing: Roland/Cuthbert
Rating: pg13
Word count: 1500+
Summary: what the title says.
Spoilers: up until Wizard & Glass.
Warnings: none really?
A/N: originally written for wandersfound for the five acts exchange, with the prompts kissing and hurt/comfort. Lame title is lame.

The first time, it goes unnoticed.

It’s just after Roland wakes up from that stupid coma he got himself into after staring into that damned pink thing, and to be really and truthfully honest, Cuthbert had been barely in control of his reactions by then. He had just felt so happy to see Roland actually there instead of off somewhere inside his head that he had just acted before thinking (he does that most times, that’s true, but details are details). It had happened that among other things, Cuthbert had kissed Roland on his cheeks, both of them, before shouting in his face not to ever pull a stunt like that on them again. No one had said anything about it being strange. And Roland hadn’t punched him to death for it. Cuthbert realizes that it might have been slightly too much after a good couple of days, but he doesn’t bring it up again and so well, maybe it wasn’t such a big deal. Or not as it seemed in his head. Then again, with everything that’s been going through Cuthbert’s head lately, maybe he’s justified if he tends to overreact.

--

The second time, is one hour before Gabrielle’s funeral.

Which, by the way, is the first time Cuthbert manages to corner Roland alone since Gabrielle’s actual death. Between Roland pretty much closing himself inside a room without wanting to see anybody and everyone else actually allowing it, there hadn’t been the chance. Cuthbert thinks that after the funeral he really should apologize to Alain – he knows he’s been an ass to him all this time, but then again the poor bastard is the only one who gets how he feels in this whole situation. Whatever. Not the point right now.

“You know it wasn’t your fault,” Cuthbert says as soon as they’re conveniently alone. The funeral will still be public, but he’s pretty sure that Roland will stay behind. Which might be the wisest choice, seeing the coincidences and all.

“How is it not?” Roland snaps back, and Cuthbert wonders why the hell does he talk all the time and right now he finds himself with nothing to say.

“Give me some fucking credit now, will thee – you?” Damn Mejis, Cuthbert thinks, he still says thee and he hates it like burning. “I was there with you, I know what that witch could do. She swore she’d get her revenge, didn’t she? And you saw her, you said you did. You shouldn’t blame yourself.”

Roland shrugs, and Cuthbert hates how cold his eyes look. It wasn’t like this before –

Before Susan burned, and Cuthbert can just come closer, and then Roland speaks, quietly, barely audible.

“My mother was hiding behind the tent.”

Oh no, Cuthbert thinks, it can’t

Except that it could. Everyone knows that Gabrielle Deschain has been maybe just a bit too close to Marten. That isn’t any news. What if…

“God, was she trying to – you think that instead of giving you a gift she wanted –”

Don’t say that,” Roland interrupts. “She couldn’t have. She wouldn’t have used a belt. It was – I did it.”

“No, you were tricked into it,” Cuthbert says, coming closer, and in truth, he’s thinking</i> is that what you want to believe rather than the truth? </i>

(He doesn’t know that years later another person who likes to talk too much will follow the same exact train of thought on the same matter, but that’s ka and it’s also another story.)

Roland looks like he doesn’t know what to believe either, and Cuthbert decides that it’s time he does something, or he won’t be the kind of friend that actually helps other people when they need it.

“Well,” he says coming close enough that there’s just a few inches between them, “for what is worth, you know I’m on your side, do you? And by the way, I’m still of the opinion that it isn’t your fault. Not that you’ll believe me that easily but you know, I had to try.”

And then, out of the completely fucking blue, he decides that it’s a good idea to move over and kiss Roland’s forehead once, before turning away and leaving for the funeral. He never sees Roland’s expression because at once it seems too much and too intimate even for them, and he doesn’t have the guts to turn around and catch Roland’s eyes.

But after the funeral Roland looks at him with gratitude, so he figures it wasn’t too much.

--

The third time, it’s some two weeks after.

“You’ll have to get out of here, you know,” Cuthbert says, leaning on the doorframe. “It’s already a miracle they let you stay holed up here this long, but at some point someone will fetch you, Roland. No one grieves this long, here.”

Roland glares at him and Cuthbert shakes his head and gets inside. Fuck, it’s not like Roland ever was that talkative, but he never was this silent either.

Then again, considering everything he went through since they set foot in Mejis, Cuthbert can’t blame him. He isn’t sure that he’d be much up for talking either, if he was in Roland’s position.

If he had seen his woman die and then killed his own mother, mistake or not.

“I know, I should let you be, shouldn’t I? It’s just, people are getting restless, and news don’t look good, also Marten’s disappeared somewhere and – maybe I just should go, you probably aren’t up for much conversation any–”

“You can stay,” Roland answers quietly, and Cuthbert falls silent before sitting next to Roland on his bed. “And I might not be up for conversation, but that’s your job, isn’t it?”

Right, Cuthbert thinks, now that’s news. “Yeah, at your service, of course. I’d never fail you on that front. And by the way, just to state things…”

He trails, not sure about how to put it. He thinks he needs to tell Roland this, but he doesn’t want it to come off wrong as it might seem.

“What?” Roland asks, and Cuthbert figures he should just spill it.

“If you ever think that my opinion of you has changed since we left for Mejis first, then you’re an idiot. I just figured I should have made it clear, since –”

And then Roland grabs his wrist, brings it up and kisses the back of his hand. It’s brief and Roland’s lips are almost rough against his skin, and Cuthbert feels speechless.

For probably the third time in his life, but it isn’t the point.

Roland doesn’t add anything, but he’s this close to almost smiling and Cuthbert figures it’s fine.

--

The fourth time, it’s a while before Jericho Hill but also a while after the third. Alain and Jamie are sleeping some half a mile far from them and Cuthbert’s hands almost shake as they open Roland’s shirt. He barely remembers how they got to this point but he remembers that when their lips met it had felt quite natural, not forced, and neither of them had been thinking about doing it (or at least he’s fairly sure of that). He stares into Roland’s blue, focused eyes for a second, feeling Roland’s rough fingers comb through his hair, and then he leans down where the shirt is leaving Roland’s shoulder bare and kisses the patch of skin exposed.

Roland breathes in, quickly, and Cuthbert takes off the shirt entirely.

--

The fifth time, is the night before Jericho Hill. Cuthbert is half-sure that if one of them survives this, it won’t be him, but then again it always felt like Roland was the one with a destiny in front of himself; Cuthbert, he has mostly felt like he could at mostly share it, but he has gotten over that a long time ago. He’s been alright with it for years now. Whatever happens tomorrow, he thinks he’s ready. Just, maybe there’s something he needs to state before.

He finds Roland, making sure that they’re alone and that Alain is out of hearing reach.

“So, we go shooting a few people tomorrow?”

“I never thought you would be one to underestimate a situation.”

“Count on me to surprise you every time.”

Roland snorts and moves closer, and there’s a fond look in his eyes that almost makes Cuthbert feel uncomfortable. He should be adjusted to the fact that when Roland looks at you, his eyes are intense, but maybe it’s just the moment.

“Then if you like surprises I’m sure you won’t mind this,” he whispers, moving closer and pressing his lips against the corner of Roland’s mouth. He lingers a bit though, not wanting to break the contact too soon.

“I… I didn’t,” Roland replies, and then Cuthbert feels thin, roughened lips against his own, and he isn’t sure that they ever kissed as slow and easy and long as they are right now. (That other time, it was fast and messy and not really this thorough.)

“Good to know then,” Cuthbert whispers when they part.

--

That time is the last.

End.
 
 
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