"Fight" (Sean Bean/Orlando Bloom)azewewishJanuary 19 2009, 20:35:11 UTC
Sean hears the soft footsteps coming into the living room before he sees Orlando in front of him. He doesn't meet Orlando's gaze. The wounds are still fracturing inside him, shifting and jockeying for space, each remembered shout jabbing at him with needle-sharp claws
( ... )
Eliot looks up at the ceiling and tries not to laugh. "Did you have to tie this so tight?"
"What can I say," Hardison starts, cocky little asshole that he is. "Nana made me go to boy scouts."
"Hah, hah," Eliot says dryly as he tries to gage his wiggle room. Turns out there isn't much, "Wait, are these getting tighter"Well, yeah," Hardison makes it sound like this shit's supposed to be obvious. "It's a shoe box knot, originated during the Spanish Inquisition to restrain heretics as they were tortured for, uh, heresy. And if you try to flip over and get out of it like I know you're thinking you want to do, Rambo, you're going to undoubtably dislocate both your shoulders and that doesn't leave much to karate chop me, does it
( ... )
The office at night was quiet. Nobody around to make noise or talk to, space to think for Nate. Until tonight. When Eliot had come raging in, snarling and yelling and in no frame of mind to be quiet.
"Stop." The voice had been firm but soft, producing immediate results. Eliot stopped in his tracks.
Now they were in Nate's office with the closet doors open and Eliot facing the wall, his wrists held securely in leather cuffs high enough so he was on the balls of his feet. Nathan's hand tangled in his long hair and he yanked Eliot's head back, pulling hard enough to make the younger man's eyes water.
"You will never scream like that around me again. Do you understand?"
Eliot's answer was hissed through clenched teeth: "Yes sir..."
The leather belt whistled as he headed for Eliot's bare back, making him mewl with need...
He's been driving for nine hours straight when Dean finally decides to admit he's lost and pull over for the night. Bugfuck, Texas, or wherever the hell he is, only has one motel, and the fact that the rates on the wall are shown in hours as well as nights tell Dean everything he needs to know about the place
( ... )
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"What can I say," Hardison starts, cocky little asshole that he is. "Nana made me go to boy scouts."
"Hah, hah," Eliot says dryly as he tries to gage his wiggle room. Turns out there isn't much, "Wait, are these getting tighter"Well, yeah," Hardison makes it sound like this shit's supposed to be obvious. "It's a shoe box knot, originated during the Spanish Inquisition to restrain heretics as they were tortured for, uh, heresy. And if you try to flip over and get out of it like I know you're thinking you want to do, Rambo, you're going to undoubtably dislocate both your shoulders and that doesn't leave much to karate chop me, does it ( ... )
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"Stop." The voice had been firm but soft, producing immediate results. Eliot stopped in his tracks.
Now they were in Nate's office with the closet doors open and Eliot facing the wall, his wrists held securely in leather cuffs high enough so he was on the balls of his feet. Nathan's hand tangled in his long hair and he yanked Eliot's head back, pulling hard enough to make the younger man's eyes water.
"You will never scream like that around me again. Do you understand?"
Eliot's answer was hissed through clenched teeth: "Yes sir..."
The leather belt whistled as he headed for Eliot's bare back, making him mewl with need...
Yeah, sounded better in my head...sorry...
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