Fic! But It Remembers You (Sean Van Vleet/Tom Conrad)

[mayqueen517]

hardtospark - Jan 6th! (MOAR KEYS 'VERSE, YES!)

Title: But It Remembers You
Fandom: Bandom; Empires
Pairing: Sean Van Vleet/Tom Conrad
Rating: PG
Word Count: 595
Disclaimer:OWN NOTHING. ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. HONEST. Written in 35 minutes or so, mistakes are my own!
Author's Note: OOH, more Keys 'verse! Follows To Find, and Four Times Sean Van Vleet Left Tom Conrad (And One Time He Stayed). (Also connected to Found, a companion piece for To Find by faeriefication)
Summary: Sean feels like a fly with only one foot free from flypaper, mind racing frantically as Tom sighs and continues carefully.


Prompt:
“You don’t remember Paris, hon, but it remembers you.”
[The Night You Can't Remember by The Magnetic Fields]



"You keep staring at me, dude," Sean says calmly, quirking the side of his mouth into an easy smile. He curls his hands around his coffee cup, blowing on the steam as Tom looks down at his camera.

"Okay, this'll sound stupid," Tom says, making a face as he looks up and over at Sean. Sean takes a slow swallow of his coffee, pulling his knees up to his chest easily, feeling the rough-soft scratch of the couch under his bare feet.

Tom pauses, sighing hard and shaking his head momentarily before he looks off, away from Sean.

"I used to. I dunno, this is fucking weird."

"Just spit it out, dude," Sean says, watching Tom's eyes settle on the keys that are hanging from the ceiling, just above the door. Sometimes Sean wonders if it was a good idea, blatantly hanging the keys from his other lives with Tom above the door. But when the door hits them, it's the most welcome sound in the world, and that's all that really matters to Sean.

"No laughing."

"Scout's honor."

"Shut the fuck up," Tom says, laughing and he relaxes back into his chair, shrugging. He fiddles with his camera some more before sighing. Closing his eyes, Tom starts speaking slowly.

"I used to. I dunno, I used to dream of doors, right? Like, I never really knew what the dreams were about, just that I was looking for someone. And they're these fucking weird things, you know? It's. The dreams were always in black and white, except for the doors and. I started taking pictures of doors and shit," Tom says, looking over at Sean, eyes guarded and Sean can feel a cold, clammy sweat break out over his back. Sean wants to look at the keys, wants to ask Tom more, but Tom hurries on.

"And they were never bad dreams, right? But they always left me all. Weird. And. I dunno. I've got a whole fucking folder full of pictures of doors and that's fine, I guess?" Tom asks, pausing to take a sip of his coffee, and Sean nods dumbly. Sean feels like a fly with only one foot free from flypaper, mind racing frantically as Tom sighs and continues carefully.

"And then I bumped into you and I stopped having the dreams. I dunno, dude, it's so fucking weird, right?" Tom asks, making another face as Sean clears his throat a few times, struggling to not choke on something. His throat is tight and he's sweating like a fucking pig and the only thing he can think of is that he has actually never been this scared.

"Sean?" Tom says, putting his cup of coffee down as Sean waves him off, finding his voice.

"It's. Not as weird as you think," Sean says finally, looking down at his coffee, wishing it was something stronger before he sighs. Tom looks at him, patient and waiting, like it doesn't surprise him that Sean has something to say about it. It's a trust that surprises Sean, one that leaves him breathless sometimes.

Sean drains his coffee in one go, putting the cup down on the floor, listening to the muted sound of ceramic being put down on the wood floor. He sits up, sighing before he tilts his head back, pinching his sinuses. When he straightens up, Tom's still watching him, watching him like Tom always does (always has, no matter where or when. It's strangely comforting, Sean thinks).

"I'm gonna tell you a story about someone I knew, Tom."