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Title: Sand and Night
Author: Cicero
Fandom: Lawrence of Arabia
Pairing: Lawrence/Ali
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A sand storm can provoke many things between two men.
Email Address: Cicerothewriter@livejournal.com
Categories: Drama, Reflection
Feedback notes: Any kind of feedback will be appreciated, even if you just write me a one-line email telling me that you've read the story, and I will be happy.
Warnings: Slash. This story contains unspecified sexual situations between two men.
Notes: None.
Disclaimer: I don't own Lawrence of Arabia or the real Lawrence. I am writing this for fun, not profit.

There had been an unexpected sand storm while the Arab army was on its way back to Akaba. It had gotten so bad that they decided set up camp.

Lawrence was grateful. The sun was always harsh to his blue eyes, and he had been feeling a slight sickness since their last stop, when they were forced to drink stale water.

The Arabs hid amongst the various rocky formations; Ali pulled Lawrence to one such place where the sand's razor sharpness could not touch them: a crevice in the mountain. They huddled together, sharing tender kisses while they waited for the storm to die away.

During one such moment, after Ali had pulled away, gently sucking on Lawrence's lower lip, Lawrence waited with his eyes closed for Ali to continue.

When he did not, Lawrence opened his eyes. Ali was gazing at him with such admiration and adoration that Lawrence could not help but answer with his own feelings of devotion to his handsome Arab comrade. They both laughed, but that was soon muffled by further actions.

Later, when the storm had died down, they were sitting next to each other, with all the symptoms of spent lovers, watching the sun settle into the horizon.

"It is so beautiful out here, Ali," Lawrence said suddenly. His voice was soft, almost mournful, in the calm night.

Ali snorted, the derision mitigated by good humor. "I still do not understand your fascination, Aurens. The desert... it is lifeless. It kills without mercy."

Lawrence smiled in the ensuing silence. When the light was still barely visible on the horizon, Lawrence answered him. "Look at the pale sand, Ali. Smooth. Untouched.

"And the equally pure darkness gently covering the sand, molding itself to the form of the dunes. The nights here caress the land. It does not hide it. It is not ashamed."

"Ashamed?" Ali said, hand reaching out to touch Lawrence's cheek.

"Yes, ashamed... of itself."

"Are you ashamed of yourself, Aurens?" Ali asked, seeing his chance to discover another piece of Lawrence's enigmatic nature.

"I don't know," Lawrence replied. "I used to be. I don't know about now." Lawrence used the dying light to search Ali's face.

Ali wondered what Lawrence found, but he knew that it was something good, because Lawrence said, "No, I am not now."



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