Chapter Text
I'm channelling the universe
That's focusing itself inside of me
A Singularity
My little words
Are going to sting
Haven't you heard
The pain and joy they bring?
Spring 2024
Waking up in the morning felt like spinning the wheel of fortune for David Gahan. Every morning he had been granted two possibilities; to remember the dream he had experienced that night or to not remember what message his deep sleep had given him at all.
The days where he had a seemingly dreamless slumber he would say a little prayer to his own subconscious to please let him remember his nightly excursions the next time. He had meticulously been documenting his dreams for a long time and as soon as his eyes had opened that morning he knew that he had to reach for his journal as quickly as possible. If he lingered at all the memories would quickly slip away. They always did when he didn't write them down. David flipped through the pages and clicked his pen before putting the nib to the blank page.
“The scene was dark, pitch black, but then a single red spotlight shone upon the stage. There was this beautiful angel with small, delicate golden wings on its back. They were dancing to music that I couldn’t hear, but I could feel it. It was a provocative, sad and sensual melody. I remember wanting to embrace them, caress their wings and catch their tears. I wanted to move my body in time with theirs. When I stepped up to reach out to them, I could hear our souls singing in harmony. I put my hands on their hips, their golden feathers grazing my face, and we started moving as one. I enjoyed the feeling of being on the same frequency as them. I hadn’t thought about it up to that point but I was struck by the overwhelming desire to beg. I begged to see their face. I could feel their smile, and I knew who it was before they even turned around.
- I almost feel silly writing this because I already knew who it was before I ever asked…
It’s always him, isn’t it? In my dreams? When will my dreams about you cease? Will they ever?”
David wrote the last question mark and let the pen slip from his grasp. He almost contemplated crossing his questions over. He had been having dreams about Martin Gore for a long time now. All of them were not quite as symbolic as this one had seemed, in fact, most of them were very straight forward. Most of them were erotic in nature. When he first started dreaming about him he had tried to push those images away. It had been an impossible task however, seemingly entirely futile. David had to face Martin every day when they were recording and during those months the frequency and intensity of his unconscious fantasies escalated to uncontrollable levels. When he laid his eyes on Martin’s face he saw flashes of him from his dreams, pinned underneath him, begging for more. When they'd bump into each other, arms and hands grazing he could see their naked skin meeting in a darkened room. It was all too much when Martin removed his clothes in front of everyone in the studio.
In the beginning the dreams were shocking but they had quickly turned into an obsession; a daily drug. The decision to write down his dreams was probably one of the best things David had ever come up with. He did not do it with the intention of reading his old entries - no, he had his head full of memories anyways. He did it with the intention to control them. David had picked up a few tips on how to control his dreams from some textbooks he read a long time ago. So far, controlling them wasn't exactly what he could do. He had instead developed an acute awareness of his dream state while still feeling like he was truly there. He could smell the musky scent and the force of their colliding bodies. But as far as deciding the outcome… He could only nudge them into a vague direction.
His dreams weren't exclusively about Martin but he'd be lying if he said that he didn't hope they would be. Sometimes he would have really dumb dreams, sometimes he was reliving memories, sometimes they were horrible nightmares…
The one he had just jotted down felt different however. That very strange feeling of being on the same wavelength had put something in his heart. A spark? Something that made his heart beat faster when he thought about it.
He closed the book and returned it to his bedside table. David knew that no matter how many times he dreamed of being together with Martin, being on the same page as him, that it was an impossibility. He looked over to his left side.
There she was. His wife, the one he had chosen to devote his waking life to. She was still sleeping soundly, blissfully unaware of his nightly infidelities. He laid back in bed, sneaking back under the covers, gently slipping one arm around her waist so as not to wake her.
He took a deep breath, letting the scent of her hair fill his nostrils, the air fill his lunges and his stomach. He held his breath there for a moment before breathing out slowly.
Perhaps a yoga pass before breakfast wouldn’t be such a bad idea?
Just like a visit at the chiropractor this yoga pass served to soothe his turbulent insides only for a brief moment. The fluttering heart that David had awoken to simply would not cease unless he concentrated really hard. Unless he forced himself to breathe and move slowly. It almost hurt him to realise how little control he had over it.
David was pacing around the living room. There were knots in his stomach struggling like slithering snakes, ultimately they ended up unable to unravel themselves. In moments like these he felt like things should feel calm. He was done with work stuff for a while and he had the chance to settle down and relax for a bit, but instead he felt restless and unsettled. Since the promotions and tour of Memento Mori there had been many moments of catharsis. Something that he hadn't felt in a long time. There had been a particular moment on stage where he’d been struck by the thought ‘What if this really is the last tour?’ and he’d lost himself in that moment, taking in all the screaming fans, the faint mist of rain, his sweat dripping, his boy aching that tremendously glorious ace that only performing on stage could give him. There was something so very special with performing live for David.
The last time he'd felt that overwhelming sense of satisfaction and fulfilment was probably after he'd made Hourglass. He remembered feeling like he had said all that he wanted to say with that album in that moment of time. He should be feeling the same now. He usually felt satiated and fulfilled after a long tour. So, why were there still knots in his guts?
“Dave, are you alright?” Jennifer came up behind him and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“Hmm? Yes. Why?” He answered distractedly and spun around to look at her. Happily accepting the chance to occupy his thoughts with anything else, anyone else.
“You're pacing,” she calmly informed him.
“Oh, sorry. I wasn't aware,” he really wasn't . He had not noticed when his thoughts had started to wander or when his feet had started to do the same. His thoughts had been consuming him so thoroughly he had a momentary lapse of spatial awareness. He found himself jolted back to reality, to his own living room.
Jennifer sighed. “You should call him,” she said.
“Who? What?”
“Martin. It's him you're thinking about, right?” Her tone was steady without even the slightest hint of any judgement, jealousy, anger or sadness.
“What makes you think that?” David retaliated, his tone verging on accusatory but really he just felt caught in the act. For a second he worried that she could see straight into his mind. The thought terrified him. How could she know that he was thinking about Martin?
“Trust me. After all this time, I can tell when something or someone is bothering you. I know that you've had your troubles in the past but I thought that you were done with all that. I thought that these past few years had resolved, strengthened and… maybe even mended your relationship with him. You are never this pent up about anything or anyone else. You always say what you think, what you want, what you need to say. Except to him,” she calmly and somewhat sternly pinned his gaze. “So call him. Say your peace. I can't stand seeing you like this,” she crossed her arms and finally let a concerned frown paint her face with emotion.
The slithering tangled mess inside him had stirred when his wife had called him out.
Later The Evening
Heeding his wife's advice David fumbled his phone out of his pocket. He contemplated simply calling Martin but he wanted to look him in the eye. Somehow it was easier to talk to him when he could see his live reaction, at least then he could attempt to parse out his body language. Martin had always been guarded, he kept his thoughts and feelings close to his heart. He was difficult to read and it intimidated him.
He pressed the button to start a video call but immediately regretted it. Martin was probably busy or already sleeping. It would be a bit later in the evening over in Santa Barbara. He quickly clicked away the call and threw the phone onto the bed and sat down, burying his face in his hands. What would he even say? He had no plan of action, no point of resolution that he wanted to get to, just an unwavering, quivering feeling that he needed more. More from him… of him .
His thoughts were interrupted by his phone beeping behind him. He snapped out of his position and hurriedly grabbed his phone. It was Martin, of course, he must have noticed that he had tried to read out to him. He hesitated for a brief moment before answering the video call. Immediately when he answered he could tell that Martin was in the bathtub. His hair was wet and his torso was exposed, there was visible tile behind him and he could hear the splashing of water in the background.
“Oh, hey…” David answered, rather taken aback. He hadn't expected him to interrupt his bath to call him back so soon. In fact, part of him hadn't expected him to call back at all.
“Was it a pocket-dial or did you just call?” he asked casually, looking directly into the phone’s camera virtually meeting his eyes with a direct and uncomfortable intensity.
“Uh, y-yeah, I called,” David's hand found its way to the back of his neck, massaging himself calmingly. ”Then I figured it might be a bit late for you… so, sorry if I interrupted,” he tried to explain but stopped himself and apologised instead.
“No worries. I'm not busy. What's up?”
Not busy eh? You're in. the. tub! David thought to himself and shook his head trying not to smirk.
He didn’t know how to reply. What was it that he really wanted to do? What would actually be possible? “Actually, I'm not quite sure,” he started honestly. “I just have this nagging feeling that there is something left to do. I know that we finished touring really recently but part of me is restless I guess. I should be exhausted and, yeah, I was for a bit, but I almost feel… ready again. Do you know what I mean?” he scrambled to really get a cohesive thought out of his brain.
“Hmm…” Martin ran his free hand through his hair and pressed his lips tightly together, smacking them as he once again opened his mouth to speak.
“I get it. I know what you mean,” he said, cocking his head to the side. The utterance almost bewildered David. So, he wasn’t alone?
“I've been kinda pushing it away because I was afraid of devoting time to it again so soon but I have a lot of ideas floating around in my head,” he said and his tone suddenly changed, he sounded excited. ”It feels like it's our time again. Maybe it's just because the album was well received… but there is also this…”
“...feeling in the air,” David filled Martin's blank with his own thoughts. They had said it before but there truly was something unique about the now . The here and now. Maybe it was because it finally felt like the world had woken up from its slumber after the pandemic. Like the particles of the universe were speeding up from the warmth after a long ice age. Whatever it was there was a certain electricity hanging around, something that made him want to keep moving forwards.
“Exactly…” Martin concurred. He splashed his feet judging by the sound and the slight bobbing of his torso, his irises wandered to the upper corner of his eyes, seemingly in contemplation.
“Do you want to meet up?” Martin said after a brief moment of silence.
Stunned Dave said, “Yes.” He couldn't stop the word from escaping like a frog from his mouth. Of course he wanted to but he hadn't expected it to be Martin who would ultimately suggest it. He had seriously thought that he would have had to beg him, fearing that Martin would say something akin to ‘let's just ride this wave out’ or ‘let the music linger in the publics’ consciousness for a while before we put anything new out again’ .
“When? Where?” He didn't even try to put a lid on his rising excitement.
“I have to go to New York soon actually. We could meet up then?” he said casually, scratching his ear with his pinkie.
And with that, there suddenly was a plan.