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Any Fool Knows	By : luna65 Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Pink Floyd Views: 858 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Pink Floyd. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-one
- 2-two
- 3-three
- 2
- 3
1981
In Germany David succumbed to an attack of nostalgia and Snowy watched with bemused spite when his boss sent his shadow back to the hotel, as they were all gathered in the caravan after the performance.

“Go on, lad, you know you can’t go on a crawl with us, you’ve an early day of it, don’t you?” David sneered. “At the beck and call of the director.”

“Someone’s got to make sure you sound decent,” James sniped, but he continued to smile, completely unaware that there was another agenda at work. But Snowy had known David longer, after all.

“Which is why I can’t let you get into any trouble, boy.”

James took his time in leaving, and the look he gave David as he stood in the doorway, watching the other who was now completely unaware, was sad to Snowy’s eyes. Because Snowy knew he’d done rather the same thing at least once. But he was not going to take the high road this time, David was all he could think about, and this would be the last time he would have the opportunity. After these performances he was getting on a plane to Ireland and that would be the end of it. Of this, the secret history of their relationship, or whatever it was.

At the biergarten they sat together in the wide booth and David rested his hand upon Snowy’s thigh, a familiar spot. Snowy put his hand on top and squeezed, smiling. David smiled back.

“We’ll miss you,” he said, leaning forward to be heard above the conversation of the others and a typical raucous night of drinking, German-style.

“Will you?” Snowy asked.

“Of course.”

“Like you used to miss me?”

The sad slight smile returned.

“I do, sometimes.”

When you look at Rose Red but long for Snow White?

“I’m sure he’ll be far more useful than I ever was.”

“Snow, why are you saying these things? You’ve got a whole new gig to worry about.”

Snowy took a drink. “Sorry. I s’pose I see history repeating itself. But you wouldn’t cut him loose, would you? He adores you, and I merely cared.”

“This is most unusual. You’ve a reputation for being so nice.”

“Yes I know. It never occurs to me to be mean, though it probably should.”

David looked him in the eye, his expression earnest. “Don’t ever, and I mean that. There’s already too much of that to go around. I s’pose I took advantage of you, but you didn’t seem to mind.”

“Who would mind when the Belle of Cambridge smiles upon them?”

“Emo and his bloody stories, Christ!”

“But it was true, wasn’t it? No one was safe when you set your sights upon them.”

David couldn’t help but chuckle. “Decorum prohibits an honest reply.”

Snowy gripped the hand on his thigh very tightly. “For once, Dave, be honest with me.”

David took a long draught of his bier then smirked. “Alright Snow, yes, whomever I want, I always get. Can’t always hold onto them, though, but that’s another tale.”

“And that’s what you did, isn’t it?”

“Will it make you feel better to blame me? It’s not as if you had to.”

“You just don’t understand, do you? Or you’re pretending not to. That power you have, it’s very dangerous. You should have a care how you use it.”

“With James, you mean.”

“With anyone. I think I’ve seen more than one casualty of your charm.”

David stared at him, wordlessly, and Snowy knew the night would not end with them in bed one last time. But he had finally said what he wanted to say, made his point about the reason why he was feeling particularly miserable. . .and figured out why that feeling perhaps had its’ twin in the actions of a certain other.

On the very last night history repeated itself again, in a manner of speaking.

As Snowy was packing, making sure he left nothing behind, there was a knock upon his door. David stood in the doorway, then the door was closed and locked behind him and they were kissing again as if time were merely a formality.

“You still care,” David said, in a faint whisper.

“Yes, because I’m stupid.”

More kisses. God, this man was infuriating, and James knew it too, didn’t he? His conscience was appalled but Snowy felt he was owed something, as a familiar ache surfaced through layers of repressed memory.

“I don’t really believe in such things, but I prayed to feel nothing.”

“Did it work?”

“Of course not. Would I have let you in otherwise?”

“My golden boy, I realize how very nice it is to have you beside me under the lights. But next I see you I’ll just be a face in the crowd.”

“You wouldn’t like it.”

“It’s you, that’s all that matters.”

If that were true you wouldn’t have let me go.

Snowy was being pushed back into the room, upon the bed, and David lay on top of him, tugging at his hair and kissing sucking biting his face and neck and ears, his hands, his arms.

“How come you to be in my forest without my leave? How come you to take that which is not yours to take?”

Not this one, not again.

“No, let me be Tam Lin this time, when he meets the Queen of the Fae.”

“And what does she say?”

“That she will keep him because he is so fair.”

“Oh, but you are, for when you fell from your steed I could not let harm come to you.”

“And he loves to live among the Fae.”

“It is paradise, under yon hill.”

“So you’ve listened to the song.”

“Yes. I’ve even learned to play it.”

“And were you planning to serenade me?”

“I would think you’ve heard me sing enough that you’d be tired of it.”

“No, I could never tire of that.”

I forbid you maidens all
that wear gold in your hair. . .

Snowy kissed David to silence him, yet again. He didn’t think he could stand that type of seduction, knowing he had to leave in mere hours.

“No more fairy tales,” he whispered. “They don’t usually end well.”

“This one had a happy ending, didn’t it? Tam Lin was rescued.”

“But the Queen, she was angry to lose her fair prince, and wished she could have turned him into a tree.”

Is it regret which shapes your face now? That sad wistful smile which makes you beautiful even as it’s killing me?

“Abide with me always, and every pleasure shall be yours.”

“Show me.”

Lips and tongue sliding against skin, humid warmth around his cock, Snowy groaned and wove his fingers through David’s hair. As always, he did everything so well when he was willing to work for it. So very gently David breathed upon his scrotum and licked all around, his tongue probing the hot center of Snowy’s desire. Then he moved away and David looked surprised.

“I’m Tam Lin, I’m the one takes the rose.”

David smiled, that achingly beautiful expression Snowy had laid eyes upon numerous times but each time was better than the last. And this was indeed the very last time. He moved over and laid on his back, pulling Snowy on top of him.

“Take from me as I have from you, golden boy.”

He had the balm at the ready, his hand trembled as he did the things David had always done to him, and his mentor sighed and moaned but did not resist the penetration. Snowy realized his experience was vast, and a voice in his mind muttered darkly about being a notch on the bedpost, but he was determined to make David feel that same aching pleasure, if only once.

And maybe he might want it again.

But that was foolishness, Snowy knew this was merely the most lascivious of farewells.

“Ah, oh yes,” David whispered, “come into me, it doesn’t hurt.”

But I know what does.

It was hopeless, trying to banish all the regret from his mind even as he made love to his mentor, more gentle than he’d ever been with anyone; and David spurred him on with fingernails dug into the tender flesh of his backside, pulling his hair, biting his shoulder as he raised his legs and urged oh god lover, give it to me, make me feel it deep.

But Snowy wanted to take his time, creating the memory of how it felt to be inside him - hot and snug - and how luscious to feel David’s cock rubbing against his belly as they rocked together, the best of all rhythms. He thought of a B.B. King song he and Greenie had played once.

I want you to rock me baby
like my back ain’t got no bone.

“Tell me, tell me just once.”

“Mmmmm. . .what?”

“Tell me you wanted only me.”

“Want you right now, Snow, oh Christ, keep doing that!”

A slow pistoning, a sweet grind, the pressure building ever so subtly, David looked so beautiful when he was being fucked, completely overwhelmed with pleasure.

“Did you want me? Did you ever really want me?”

“Of course I did – I do – beautiful thing, OH GOD –“

David lost it, spurting onto his own skin, and Snowy reached down and helped it along, a slippery hand stroking fast, milking David’s prick completely. Snowy gritted his teeth against the inevitable clench of all the muscles, he wasn’t ready to stop the ride just yet.

“Tell me. . .do you want me?”

“Yes,” David breathed, blissed out and ravenous, completely in sync. “Yes I want you, that’s why I’m here, couldn’t let you go away without one last chance to have you.”

“And do you feel it?”

“I feel it so deep, lover, all the way down. Love the way you fuck me, oh yes.”

“You’ll remember?”

“Yes, my fair one, I will, I promise.”

Silence he said, to all the taunts that David could say whatever he wanted but it didn’t matter, this was goodbye.

“Yes, I want you to think of me often, and remember this, because there is only one who is the fairest of them all.”

“Oh God, Snow, please – I can’t take it anymore – please come now, I think I might faint, it’s too much!”

“I’m too much for you, hmm? Imagine that.”

“Too much, ah, it hurts now, but I don’t want to stop, oh Christ you’re gonna wreck me!”

And now you know.

Snowy thrust hard like a punch: three times. And at the last he gasped then sang his final passionate aria, though it was more like a cry of desperation for something: perhaps release from the obsession which had hung over him for years, haunting his dreams and invading his thoughts and paining him deep so very deep.

David had fallen asleep, and his expression was just slightly smug to Snowy’s eyes. He showered and dressed and gathered his luggage, knowing that his once-mentor was a heavy sleeper and would likely not wake. He sat down on the bed and put his hand upon the other’s cheek one last time.

“What it must be like to be your lover,” he whispered. “I wish I knew.”

Then he thought of James, who was likely lying in bed in another of these rooms: sick with worry, or anger, or disappointment. . .or some squirming combination of all three.

“Then again, perhaps I don’t.”

Snowy took a cab to the airport, hoping he could find a quiet corner in which to sit and play Goldtop, waiting out the hours till he could finally depart.

1984
James had told him over the phone, apropos of nothing, that he had heard Snowy on the radio; it seemed he had a hit single. Though no one could see him, David suppressed every reaction save the raise of his eyebrows.

“Yeah? Good on ‘im.”

“Pretty song, I think it’s called ‘Bird of Paradise.’ A nice bluesy sort of thing.”

Later, he wondered if the record store nearby had a copy. He sent someone out to find it and they came back with the single, packaged in pink and looking ridiculously like a valentine. But it was, truly, a love song.

Saw you flying by, a flash of turquoise blue
I just had to try
to keep your life in view.

He was playing the Goldtop, David knew that tone anywhere. His voice was a little thin, but Snow would get the hang of learning to project eventually. He never had any problems with being in the spotlight.

Saw you fly away, when will you come again
so I could watch you play
in the pouring rain.

David wasn’t one to automatically assume he was the inspiration for anything, despite the numerous examples which proved his capacity for muse-like qualities, and yet, he ached to believe that this song was for him, that Snow thought of him often, even as David had heard no word for a very long time. Always a birthday greeting delivered to his fellow Piscean, but none in return. But the song was appropriately romantic, they both possessed an affinity for such things. He grimaced, thinking about how it hadn’t been the best time to know him, those dark years. He felt especially pained at the thought of that wry grin, when David had to tell him how things had changed, even as he gave him one last remembrance. Snow reacted the way he always did, calmly grateful, but there was a distance in his eyes which David knew he’d never manage to cross ever again.

2006
The band was starting to grumble about the endless grind, but Snowy loved to tour. Every few days a new place, with new challenges. It kept his mind occupied and he enjoyed traveling - he always had – even under the worst of circumstances.

He had commandeered one of the smaller tables in the catering area so he could read while he had his dinner, but Jon came up shortly after he’d gotten himself settled and asked to join him.

“Certainly,” he said, clearing off his book.

“Weather’s been nice, at least,” Jon commented, digging into his salad.

“Yeah? I’ve been a hermit this week.”

They ate in companionable silence for a time. The food was always good, because Roger wouldn’t settle for anything less.

“Hey I’ve always wanted to ask you, since we’ve played on both teams –“

Snowy gave Jon a teasing smirk at that observation.

“ – would you ever go out with Gilmour?”

Snowy chuckled, then his expression turned serious. “He’d never ask me.”

“Why not?”

Snowy wasn’t offended by the question, he knew Jon was merely curious, not attempting to pry. He was a fellow countryman, after all.

“Because Dave is the sort who is perfectly willing in some cases to let the past remain the past.”

Jon nodded. “Well if it weren’t for Guthrie I wouldn’t be on this side at all, I suppose.”

Snowy laughed again, softly. “Ah James, right in the middle of everything, as always.”

Jon frowned. “I’m not sure I follow you.”

“S’alright lad, I can’t always follow myself either.”

After dinner Snowy retreated to the tuning room for a while, cradling Goldtop on his lap and expressing his emotions through her, a ritual familiar and comforting. Just when he’d stopped thinking of David every day, something would inevitably remind him all over again. They had brokered an uneasy peace in recent years, yet it was difficult to be in David’s presence for any length of time. But it didn’t have anything to do with playing the songs night after night, oddly enough. He felt those songs were just as much his as anyone else’s, in his very blood through repetition and experience.

It was the experiences themselves which were often too difficult to recall.

And wasn’t it the strangest thing, to be serving as David’s surrogate for Roger? Whatever entity it was which set life upon its’ twisting path certainly had a sense of humor about the endeavor. Not what Snowy had envisioned for himself at all, but he accepted the role because if anyone was going to walk in those shoes, it might as well be someone who knew the originator in a distinctly personal way.

The thought made him smile, as always, even if the smile wasn’t nearly as bright as it once had been; back when he was so very young and more than a little foolish.
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