Fic: Another Morning (Ghost Ship, Dodge/Munder, PG)
I've decided to stop writing request fics, partly because I'm sort of arbitrary about filling them. There are other reasons, but my head is not in the best of places right now, so it's best not to get into them. Anyway, now that my time is limited again by school and not being able to write at work, I'm just going to finish up a few projects and then see where I stand, fandom-wise.
Having said all that, awhile back minotaurs requested fic involving Dodge/Munder and tequila body shots. This is, I imagine, not what he was expecting, so this isn't really a fulfilled request. It was inspired by his request, though. Just a scene that popped into my head while I was floating in the pool this afternoon, avoiding the paper I should be writing. It's also the final piece in the Beginnings Series, so I can stop feeling guilty about one more unfinished fannish project. Go team me.
Title: Another Morning
Pairing: Dodge/Munder
Rating: T is for Tease
Summary: Part eight of the Beginnings Series, in which we arrive at the beginning.
~
He's doing it again. It's been going on for weeks now, and Dodge has been ignoring it because he knows better than to act on something that might only exist in his imagination. Chances are he's just reading too much into nothing; it gets lonely out here, and even the occasional nights in strange ports aren't enough to cure it.
Maybe if he was more like the other guys, satisfied with an anonymous night in the sack with some local girl. Only he's never really been much for anonymous, and the local girls don't do much for him.
Not that he's really noticed much about the locals, because Munder's been staring at him all night and it's starting to get distracting. He lifts his beer to his mouth without breaking eye contact, watching Munder's mouth twitch into the ghost of a smile as Dodge swallows and sets his bottle back down on the table. And any second now one of the others is going to notice their staring contest, but Dodge doesn't care enough to be the first to look away.
He knows he should, because he's the one they've worked with before and Munder's just some guy the captain hired at the last minute. He hadn't even been in town a week when he took the gig, so if he has to leave town again as soon as they dock in Anchorage it's not going to hurt him. But Dodge has known these guys for years, worked with them and built a reputation, and he knows better than to risk that over some guy he doesn't know.
He knows better, but that's not stopping him, and he's still staring when one of the local girls appears at their table, draping one arm across Munder's chest and whispering something in Spanish. And Dodge didn't even know Munder spoke Spanish, but he laughs and stands up, so he must know what she said. Or maybe he just doesn't care, because he's letting the girl lead him toward the bar.
Munder doesn't look back at him, and Dodge tells himself he should be glad. He should be relieved that he was wrong about Munder, that he was wrong about this whole weird dance they'd been doing for the past month. Only it doesn't explain why Munder spends so much time watching him, and Dodge knows he's not imagining that. When they're working Munder's the most professional guy on the crew, but whenever they have down time there he is, just…watching, and it has to mean something.
Before he can come up with any theories Munder reaches the bar, and Dodge notices for the first time that there's a girl lying on it. Brown skin bared at her stomach, and when the bartender says something Munder slams a couple bills onto the bar and reaches for a salt shaker. He starts to lift his hand to his mouth to lick his skin, but before he can the other girl catches his arm and leans in, closing her mouth over Munder's hand to suck at the skin between his thumb and index finger.
The rest of the guys at the table are already laughing and shouting for him to go on, standing up to get a better look and Dodge knows what's going on. Knows this is all a show for the Americans, to get them drunk and horny so they'll leave without any of their cash. And he doesn't care what the rest of them do with their money, but he can't bring himself to take his eyes off Munder as leans over to lick tequila off some strange Mexican girl.
It's not that he's jealous. It's none of his business what Munder does, and if he wants to act like the rest of the idiots on their crew, that's his business. It's just that Dodge expected…not better, exactly. Just…different, and he shakes his head and swallows the rest of his beer as Munder steps aside and passes Harris the salt shaker.
He stands up as they all start laughing again, turns toward the door as the first girl reaches for Harris and licks his wrist. He's halfway across the bar before hears Munder calling his name, and he hates himself for turning around to look.
"What, you're not even gonna do one shot?"
Munder's arms are spread, long hair falling out of that ponytail he keeps it in and Dodge wonders idly what it would be like to touch it. But he hasn't had enough beer to find out, so instead he shakes his head and glances toward the door. "Not really my scene."
When he looks back Munder's grinning, arms at his sides now and closer than he was a few seconds ago. Dodge isn't sure how that happened, because he only looked away for a second, and he's pretty sure Munder isn't planning to follow him back to the tug. But maybe he's wrong about that, because Munder takes another step forward and now they're just a few feet apart.
"How do you know? I bet you've never even tried."
Dodge laughs at that, glancing over Munder's shoulder at the girl still stretched out on the bar, stomach shining with tequila and spit. "Trust me, I know."
"You sure?" Another step forward, and Munder's close enough to reach out and touch. "Because we could probably get somebody else up on the bar if she's not doing it for you."
Just for a second Dodge pictures Munder up there, shirt off and jeans riding low on his hips. He probably wouldn't bother untying that damn flannel shirt from around his waist, and Dodge would dig his fingers into the knot as he leaned over…
Only that would never happen, especially not in front of the entire crew, and he's glad for the dim light in the bar so Munder won't see him blush. "I don't drink tequila."
"Yeah? So what do you drink?" Munder asks, and this time Dodge feels the words on his skin. It's all he can do not to close his eyes, swallowing against the shudder that rolls through him and looking automatically over Munder's shoulder to make sure none of the others are watching them. But they're all still wrapped up in the action at the bar, getting a little louder with each shot and daring each other to keep going.
They're oblivious to the fact that Dodge and Munder aren't anywhere near them, and when Dodge turns back to Munder he realizes just how close they are. Close enough that all he'd have to do is lean in a little and he'd know for sure, finally answer the question that's been gnawing at him since he first laid eyes on Munder. He starts to sway forward, but as soon as he realizes what he's doing he catches himself and reaches out to close a fist around Munder's shirt instead, pulling him out of the bar and into the dark night.
"This is a really bad idea," he says, but Munder doesn't hear because he's already kissing Dodge, swallowing the words and letting Dodge press him backwards until his back collides with the nearest wall.
It is a bad idea; it's the worst idea he's ever had, and there's no way they can get away with it. Somebody will notice eventually, if not tonight then somewhere down the road. That is, if this isn't a one-time thing, but that much, at least, Dodge is pretty sure of. If it was Munder would have said something a long time ago, not watched Dodge every second and waited until he finally gave in.
And if this is the start of something he doesn't want it to start like this, in some dirty alley in a town whose name he can't remember. He pulls away with a gasp, grip still firm on Munder's shirt to pull him away from the wall and push him in the direction of the port. Munder takes the hint right away and falls in step next to Dodge, and when Dodge glances at him out of the corner of his eye it's all he can do not to stop and kiss Munder again.
His eyes are shining and his tongue darts out to wet his lips, slow like he's chasing the taste of Dodge on his mouth. His hair's even messier now than it was in the bar, and the first thing Dodge is going to do when they get back to the boat is pull all that hair free and see just how soft it is. He starts walking a little faster, smirking to himself when Munder matches his pace.
He still has no idea what they're doing, but if their first kiss is anything to go by, it's the start of something amazing.
~
Having said all that, awhile back minotaurs requested fic involving Dodge/Munder and tequila body shots. This is, I imagine, not what he was expecting, so this isn't really a fulfilled request. It was inspired by his request, though. Just a scene that popped into my head while I was floating in the pool this afternoon, avoiding the paper I should be writing. It's also the final piece in the Beginnings Series, so I can stop feeling guilty about one more unfinished fannish project. Go team me.
Title: Another Morning
Pairing: Dodge/Munder
Rating: T is for Tease
Summary: Part eight of the Beginnings Series, in which we arrive at the beginning.
~
He's doing it again. It's been going on for weeks now, and Dodge has been ignoring it because he knows better than to act on something that might only exist in his imagination. Chances are he's just reading too much into nothing; it gets lonely out here, and even the occasional nights in strange ports aren't enough to cure it.
Maybe if he was more like the other guys, satisfied with an anonymous night in the sack with some local girl. Only he's never really been much for anonymous, and the local girls don't do much for him.
Not that he's really noticed much about the locals, because Munder's been staring at him all night and it's starting to get distracting. He lifts his beer to his mouth without breaking eye contact, watching Munder's mouth twitch into the ghost of a smile as Dodge swallows and sets his bottle back down on the table. And any second now one of the others is going to notice their staring contest, but Dodge doesn't care enough to be the first to look away.
He knows he should, because he's the one they've worked with before and Munder's just some guy the captain hired at the last minute. He hadn't even been in town a week when he took the gig, so if he has to leave town again as soon as they dock in Anchorage it's not going to hurt him. But Dodge has known these guys for years, worked with them and built a reputation, and he knows better than to risk that over some guy he doesn't know.
He knows better, but that's not stopping him, and he's still staring when one of the local girls appears at their table, draping one arm across Munder's chest and whispering something in Spanish. And Dodge didn't even know Munder spoke Spanish, but he laughs and stands up, so he must know what she said. Or maybe he just doesn't care, because he's letting the girl lead him toward the bar.
Munder doesn't look back at him, and Dodge tells himself he should be glad. He should be relieved that he was wrong about Munder, that he was wrong about this whole weird dance they'd been doing for the past month. Only it doesn't explain why Munder spends so much time watching him, and Dodge knows he's not imagining that. When they're working Munder's the most professional guy on the crew, but whenever they have down time there he is, just…watching, and it has to mean something.
Before he can come up with any theories Munder reaches the bar, and Dodge notices for the first time that there's a girl lying on it. Brown skin bared at her stomach, and when the bartender says something Munder slams a couple bills onto the bar and reaches for a salt shaker. He starts to lift his hand to his mouth to lick his skin, but before he can the other girl catches his arm and leans in, closing her mouth over Munder's hand to suck at the skin between his thumb and index finger.
The rest of the guys at the table are already laughing and shouting for him to go on, standing up to get a better look and Dodge knows what's going on. Knows this is all a show for the Americans, to get them drunk and horny so they'll leave without any of their cash. And he doesn't care what the rest of them do with their money, but he can't bring himself to take his eyes off Munder as leans over to lick tequila off some strange Mexican girl.
It's not that he's jealous. It's none of his business what Munder does, and if he wants to act like the rest of the idiots on their crew, that's his business. It's just that Dodge expected…not better, exactly. Just…different, and he shakes his head and swallows the rest of his beer as Munder steps aside and passes Harris the salt shaker.
He stands up as they all start laughing again, turns toward the door as the first girl reaches for Harris and licks his wrist. He's halfway across the bar before hears Munder calling his name, and he hates himself for turning around to look.
"What, you're not even gonna do one shot?"
Munder's arms are spread, long hair falling out of that ponytail he keeps it in and Dodge wonders idly what it would be like to touch it. But he hasn't had enough beer to find out, so instead he shakes his head and glances toward the door. "Not really my scene."
When he looks back Munder's grinning, arms at his sides now and closer than he was a few seconds ago. Dodge isn't sure how that happened, because he only looked away for a second, and he's pretty sure Munder isn't planning to follow him back to the tug. But maybe he's wrong about that, because Munder takes another step forward and now they're just a few feet apart.
"How do you know? I bet you've never even tried."
Dodge laughs at that, glancing over Munder's shoulder at the girl still stretched out on the bar, stomach shining with tequila and spit. "Trust me, I know."
"You sure?" Another step forward, and Munder's close enough to reach out and touch. "Because we could probably get somebody else up on the bar if she's not doing it for you."
Just for a second Dodge pictures Munder up there, shirt off and jeans riding low on his hips. He probably wouldn't bother untying that damn flannel shirt from around his waist, and Dodge would dig his fingers into the knot as he leaned over…
Only that would never happen, especially not in front of the entire crew, and he's glad for the dim light in the bar so Munder won't see him blush. "I don't drink tequila."
"Yeah? So what do you drink?" Munder asks, and this time Dodge feels the words on his skin. It's all he can do not to close his eyes, swallowing against the shudder that rolls through him and looking automatically over Munder's shoulder to make sure none of the others are watching them. But they're all still wrapped up in the action at the bar, getting a little louder with each shot and daring each other to keep going.
They're oblivious to the fact that Dodge and Munder aren't anywhere near them, and when Dodge turns back to Munder he realizes just how close they are. Close enough that all he'd have to do is lean in a little and he'd know for sure, finally answer the question that's been gnawing at him since he first laid eyes on Munder. He starts to sway forward, but as soon as he realizes what he's doing he catches himself and reaches out to close a fist around Munder's shirt instead, pulling him out of the bar and into the dark night.
"This is a really bad idea," he says, but Munder doesn't hear because he's already kissing Dodge, swallowing the words and letting Dodge press him backwards until his back collides with the nearest wall.
It is a bad idea; it's the worst idea he's ever had, and there's no way they can get away with it. Somebody will notice eventually, if not tonight then somewhere down the road. That is, if this isn't a one-time thing, but that much, at least, Dodge is pretty sure of. If it was Munder would have said something a long time ago, not watched Dodge every second and waited until he finally gave in.
And if this is the start of something he doesn't want it to start like this, in some dirty alley in a town whose name he can't remember. He pulls away with a gasp, grip still firm on Munder's shirt to pull him away from the wall and push him in the direction of the port. Munder takes the hint right away and falls in step next to Dodge, and when Dodge glances at him out of the corner of his eye it's all he can do not to stop and kiss Munder again.
His eyes are shining and his tongue darts out to wet his lips, slow like he's chasing the taste of Dodge on his mouth. His hair's even messier now than it was in the bar, and the first thing Dodge is going to do when they get back to the boat is pull all that hair free and see just how soft it is. He starts walking a little faster, smirking to himself when Munder matches his pace.
He still has no idea what they're doing, but if their first kiss is anything to go by, it's the start of something amazing.
~