Prompt Post: ROUND TWO
ROUND TWO IS CLOSED
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Rules post.
Flat view.
ROUND TWO: Updates Post (WIPs only)
ROUND TWO: Fills Post (completed Fills only)
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<< ROUND ONE | ALL ROUNDS | ROUND THREE >>
Rules post.
Flat view.
ROUND TWO: Updates Post (WIPs only)
ROUND TWO: Fills Post (completed Fills only)
damalur's firstclasskink on Delicious.
Volunteers always welcome.
Please use the Discussion Post if you want to talk about community alterations or get my modly attention. Do not ( Read more... )
Because, for once, he feels like he belongs here and all four of them are friends (well, him and Alex are more like pseudo-friends but they have a real friends potential if he isn’t such an ass all the time) purely for the sake of being friends because they have no one else.
Somehow, Raven gets a hold of some liquor from the kitchen -Hank has the sneaking suspicion it’s her own stash in the first place, far from the prying eyes of her foster brother- and they all gather in the living room to take a swig. Hank, for his own opinion, doesn’t like the burn in his throat when he drinks it but it’s nice, it’s acceptable.
Hank doesn’t feel the buzz immediately, no, he thinks he’s perfectly sober because he can hear the radio’s lyrics perfectly, asking them all to ‘Twist and Shout!” (a movement Sean happily does with a bottle in his hand).
“Okay, okay!” Raven waves her arms. “Let’s play a game.”
“A game?” Alex asks, laughing. “What are we, eight?”
“Sometimes,” Raven nods with a smile. “Okay, Sean, gimme your bottle.”
“Why? It’s my bottle! Mineeee,” Sean slurs and Hank worries that he’ll pass out before the clock even strikes ten.
“Give it,” Raven orders and Sean pouts a little before surrendering his bottle. She puts the bottle on the floor, in the middle of the circle they’ve made now Sean has plopped down next to Alex. “Hank, I think you should go first.”
“Why me?” Hank asks. “And what exactly are we doing?”
“You’re the most sober out of all of us and we’re playing seven minutes in heaven,” she smirks at him, handing the bottle.
“Well, that’s a lie. Obviously I’m the most sober. I haven’t taken a single sip,” Alex says defensively, as if not being drunk is something to be proud of. It probably is, though.
“Shut up, I picked Hank,” Raven pokes him at his side.
Hank nervously spins the bottle and watches it slow down, as his heart accelerates. He doesn’t want to spend seven minutes with Sean because he’ll start blurting out random things and maybe he’ll vomit on his shoes when talking gets boring and Hank will probably start muttering under his breath if he spends it with Raven. And Alex…
He doesn’t have enough time to think because the bottle stops at Alex.
“Ohohoho!” Sean claps out. “This is gonna be good.”
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Alex moves towards the closet and Hank follows blindly. Then, suddenly, it’s just the two of them, the sounds of the radio are being drowned out and there’s only a dim light bulb to help them see each other. This is closest he’s been to anyone since he asked Raven for her blood and this is sort of gaining the same feeling of becoming a blubbering mess.
Because Alex is right there, in front of him, and he’s really good-looking and he could be nice and there are so many things he could be and they could be and it’s making Hank’s breath go ragged.
“So,” Alex says, “I hear you’re making the serum. To change appearances.”
“Uhm, yeah, I am.”
“You shouldn’t be,” Alex simply says, as if his proximity to him has any hold on him and his scientific notions.
“And why not?” Hank asserts.
“Because you’re fucking gorgeous like this, weird feet and all.”
Hank cannot manage anything, there is no coherency flying through his mind at the moment, there’s something disrupting his brain frequency and he can’t think, there is no proper response to that, at least where Hank is standing and has always stood. Hank has no real answer to that other than, “Oh.”
He wants to think of real words, because “Oh” doesn’t count as real, not in this situation, not to him or to Alex. He wants to give him something of substance because Alex has given him that and more.
But, no, Alex doesn’t want him to think of words or how to make long essays consisting of real ones because, before he knows it, Alex’s hand is snaking around his waist and he feels his body move without him towards Alex’s warmth and his lips are opening slightly to invite Alex even closer (if there is a closer)
They kiss and it’s like one of those oldtime movies where there seem to be fireworks behind them and a string quartet is playing blindly, their orchestra of love, until they realize, between swipes of tongues against each other’s lips, that they’ve wanted this for a while.
The tenderness disappears when Alex manages to overpower him and presses him against the wall of the closet and Hank groans. Alex laughs against his lips and suddenly the tension is gone because, even though they’re kissing and the only thought in his mind is hnnnngggh, he’s still Alex and he’s still a prat.
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“Do you think seven minutes is enough time to get you off?” Alex asks, his hand trailing down Hank’s side.
“I highly doubt it since we have already spent,” Hank looks at his watch, “five of those seven minutes kissing each other like the randy teenagers that we are.”
“Challenge postponed, then,” the blonde boy says before devoting the rest of his time by peppering Hank’s skin with kisses.
He starts at his collarbone, then licks a stripe against the length of his neck which makes Hank shiver in his arms until his jaw, where he tenderly places kisses which leads Hank to thinking maybe Alex wasn’t an ass, after all, not really. There’s a care in his kisses, like he’s been waiting for someone to give it to.
“Why me?” Hank blurts out his stream of consciousness.
“Just because,” Alex shrugs.
“I’m not gonna get anything more than that, am I?”
“Not now, no. Ask me some other time.” some other time, Alex is saying, as if they have a future. Maybe they do.
“I’m not going to take the serum, just, if you’re worried. I’m not going to.”
“Good, good, that’s good,” Alex says but, the truth of it is that he can barely contain his smile and Hank wonders why it’s so important to him not to change.
There’s a knock on the door and they both laugh, probably because they’re both thinking about the fact that, when it came to, their relationship was made in the span of seven minutes and in the small space of a supply closet. Well, there are worst ways to find someone you care about, right?
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I especially loved this line: A prat that is pressing his everything against Hank’s everything until he’s sure that they could become anything at this point. It's vague but so descriptive at the same time. So lovely.
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That line right there, may I marry it? <3
Beautiful fic, nonny.
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This is a cute fic. :D
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