short-fic dump (more from comment_fic)
Gah! And again, I seem to have been dragged into comment_fic land where apparently I write fic, copious amounts (for me at least) of fic \o/
[Standard disclaimers apply: I neither own the people/characters mentioned in these fics, make money from them, nor do I believe these fictional pieces of writing to indicate the actors preferences in real life.]
Warning, none of these are beta'd passed my own spell-checker and the use of my eyes :)
BIG WARNING: it was ANGST day at comment_fic so these are all loaded with angst. In particular, the one with the prompt 'dying'. Please don't sue for making you cry.
Leverage; Eliot/Nate; prompt: third wheel; PG-13 (12A); ‘More than he deserves’; 157 words
No matter how long they keep doing this, Eliot always feels like a third wheel to the memories of Nate's ex-wife and son that he carries with him wherever he goes.
Eliot knows that he's not Nate's first choice or second. Heck, he knows that he's pretty much Nate's last choice. Yet he never leaves. Never does anything that'd make Nate leave or give him an excuse to.
With all that he’s done in his life, the people that he’s injured and killed, the ones that he’s left behind because they slowed him down, Eliot does this because he knows that he won't ever find someone who cares about as much as Nate cares for him. Even if it is as an afterthought.
He doesn’t even deserve that much, but he’ll take what he can get and be thankful for it. Even if he has to be a third wheel to a dead and long gone relationship.
RPS; Chris Kane/Jensen Ackles; prompt: fantasising about someone else; ‘This is why friends don’t fuck’; NC-17 (18); 481 words
Jensen had known he was just a stop gap for Chris. A place holder until Steve came back from god knows where he'd left for this time. But it hadn't really hit him 'til now.
They're in Jensen's bed. The covers were shoved on the floor hours ago and all that can be smelled in the room is the strong odour of masculine sweat, and sex. There are no sounds apart from the rhythmic slapping of Chris' balls against Jensen's ass and the moans and groans associated with a good, hard, fuck.
For the last two weeks, Chris' been silent when they've been in bed, only gasping and moaning when he can't hold them back anymore. No dirty talking or names being mumbled or screamed. Nothing. And Jensen knows that Chris normally makes a lot of noise in bed (sharing a house with Chris and Steve before Jensen moved up to Vancouver for Smallville wasn't exactly the quietist of times). He figures it's Chris' way of keeping Jensen and Steve separate in his brain, or some such shit.
So when he's on all fours getting his ass reamed by Chris' rock hard cock, Jensen's shocked to hear Chris mumble something resembling an actual word. Not just a formless gasp, but an actual word.
When Jensen's brain processes what it was that Chris mumbled, he wishes that he'd had that last shot so he wouldn't have worked it out.
Steve
His body tightens in frustration and upset, accidentally setting off Chris' orgasm. Chris' hips thrust in and out a couple more times, getting shakier as he goes, until he pulls out and rolls over. Right arm going up to cover his eyes, left hand lying uselessly next to his side.
Before Jensen can do much more than wince at the slight stinging in his ass, Chris is snoring lightly and mumbling quietly again.
Steve
Jensen's still hard, but he can't stay in the same room as Chris any longer. He pads over to the bathroom, jerks himself off to the thought of some faceless person with a hot mouth sucking him down and cleans himself up quickly. When he's finished he quietly walks back to his room, puts on a clean pair of boxers, grabs a pillow and goes downstairs to set the sofa up, knowing that he can't sleep with Chris anymore.
Realising that he needs a blanket, Jensen goes back upstairs to get one, but notices that Chris is starting to shiver from falling asleep with the covers still on the floor. Shaking his head, knowing that he should just leave Chris be, Jensen pulls the duvet up and tucks his friend in, just like his Momma did for him when he was little.
Grabbing a spare blanket from the top of the closet, Jensen goes back down to his sofa.
This time, he missed Chris' faint mumblings.
S'nice Steve
RPS; Chris Kane/Steve Carlson; prompt: dying; PG-13 (12A); ‘Try to save my soul tonight’; 369 words
If anyone had thought about it before now, they'd say that Chris would be the first to go, what with the way he jumps into any fight whether he's needed or not, drinks more alcohol in a night than most people could in week and doesn't care what the speed limit is. They'd have said that he wouldn't see 40 the way he carries on.
No one thought it'd be Steve.
Sure, the guy smokes and enjoys more than the odd joint, but he also eats right, has a healthy attitude and barely ever gets sick. Yet here everyone is, sitting in a waiting room off the ER, hoping for some news, any news.
You see, Steve had been in the liquor store picking up a couple of six packs for the guys who were coming over later - celebrating his latest album - when some kid in a black ski mask come in with a loaded gun and held the store up, demanding to be given all the cash in the tills. Steve, being the peace maker that he is, tried to calm the guy down, get him to put the gun down and let the customers go. Unfortunately, having gotten so good at defusing situations between Chris and most of the world and his younger cousin's fights, he was pretty damn good at being the peacemaker. Which made the robber think he was an off duty cop.
Before Steve could get out more than a sentence, the kid shot him in the chest.
By the time the ambulance could take him away he barely had a pulse and was looking too pale. The doctors in the ER had said that they might be able to save him if they could get enough blood into him quick enough so could you please take a seat Mr. Kane so we can save your partner.
Six hours later, one lot of emergency surgery to remove the bullet and countless paces across the small waiting room, Chris and their friends wait to hear if Steve would be leaving the hospital with them or in a casket.
"Mr. Kane, could you take a seat, I have something to tell you and your friends,"...
RPS; Chris Kane/Steve Carlson; prompt: missing you; PG; ‘Lonely is the night’; 58 words
"I know you won't get this for days and even then, you probably won't listen to it for a few more. I, I just need you to know that I miss you and I'm sorry. Please, come home?" With a sigh, he puts the phone back in its cradle and hopes his lover will listen to it soon.
You liked any of them - please, leave a comment, there's a mistake - please, leave a comment, you hate any/all of them - exit stage left. Constructive criticism is appreciated but flames will be put on my log fire to keep me toasty warm *g*
[Standard disclaimers apply: I neither own the people/characters mentioned in these fics, make money from them, nor do I believe these fictional pieces of writing to indicate the actors preferences in real life.]
Warning, none of these are beta'd passed my own spell-checker and the use of my eyes :)
BIG WARNING: it was ANGST day at comment_fic so these are all loaded with angst. In particular, the one with the prompt 'dying'. Please don't sue for making you cry.
Leverage; Eliot/Nate; prompt: third wheel; PG-13 (12A); ‘More than he deserves’; 157 words
No matter how long they keep doing this, Eliot always feels like a third wheel to the memories of Nate's ex-wife and son that he carries with him wherever he goes.
Eliot knows that he's not Nate's first choice or second. Heck, he knows that he's pretty much Nate's last choice. Yet he never leaves. Never does anything that'd make Nate leave or give him an excuse to.
With all that he’s done in his life, the people that he’s injured and killed, the ones that he’s left behind because they slowed him down, Eliot does this because he knows that he won't ever find someone who cares about as much as Nate cares for him. Even if it is as an afterthought.
He doesn’t even deserve that much, but he’ll take what he can get and be thankful for it. Even if he has to be a third wheel to a dead and long gone relationship.
RPS; Chris Kane/Jensen Ackles; prompt: fantasising about someone else; ‘This is why friends don’t fuck’; NC-17 (18); 481 words
Jensen had known he was just a stop gap for Chris. A place holder until Steve came back from god knows where he'd left for this time. But it hadn't really hit him 'til now.
They're in Jensen's bed. The covers were shoved on the floor hours ago and all that can be smelled in the room is the strong odour of masculine sweat, and sex. There are no sounds apart from the rhythmic slapping of Chris' balls against Jensen's ass and the moans and groans associated with a good, hard, fuck.
For the last two weeks, Chris' been silent when they've been in bed, only gasping and moaning when he can't hold them back anymore. No dirty talking or names being mumbled or screamed. Nothing. And Jensen knows that Chris normally makes a lot of noise in bed (sharing a house with Chris and Steve before Jensen moved up to Vancouver for Smallville wasn't exactly the quietist of times). He figures it's Chris' way of keeping Jensen and Steve separate in his brain, or some such shit.
So when he's on all fours getting his ass reamed by Chris' rock hard cock, Jensen's shocked to hear Chris mumble something resembling an actual word. Not just a formless gasp, but an actual word.
When Jensen's brain processes what it was that Chris mumbled, he wishes that he'd had that last shot so he wouldn't have worked it out.
Steve
His body tightens in frustration and upset, accidentally setting off Chris' orgasm. Chris' hips thrust in and out a couple more times, getting shakier as he goes, until he pulls out and rolls over. Right arm going up to cover his eyes, left hand lying uselessly next to his side.
Before Jensen can do much more than wince at the slight stinging in his ass, Chris is snoring lightly and mumbling quietly again.
Steve
Jensen's still hard, but he can't stay in the same room as Chris any longer. He pads over to the bathroom, jerks himself off to the thought of some faceless person with a hot mouth sucking him down and cleans himself up quickly. When he's finished he quietly walks back to his room, puts on a clean pair of boxers, grabs a pillow and goes downstairs to set the sofa up, knowing that he can't sleep with Chris anymore.
Realising that he needs a blanket, Jensen goes back upstairs to get one, but notices that Chris is starting to shiver from falling asleep with the covers still on the floor. Shaking his head, knowing that he should just leave Chris be, Jensen pulls the duvet up and tucks his friend in, just like his Momma did for him when he was little.
Grabbing a spare blanket from the top of the closet, Jensen goes back down to his sofa.
This time, he missed Chris' faint mumblings.
S'nice Steve
RPS; Chris Kane/Steve Carlson; prompt: dying; PG-13 (12A); ‘Try to save my soul tonight’; 369 words
If anyone had thought about it before now, they'd say that Chris would be the first to go, what with the way he jumps into any fight whether he's needed or not, drinks more alcohol in a night than most people could in week and doesn't care what the speed limit is. They'd have said that he wouldn't see 40 the way he carries on.
No one thought it'd be Steve.
Sure, the guy smokes and enjoys more than the odd joint, but he also eats right, has a healthy attitude and barely ever gets sick. Yet here everyone is, sitting in a waiting room off the ER, hoping for some news, any news.
You see, Steve had been in the liquor store picking up a couple of six packs for the guys who were coming over later - celebrating his latest album - when some kid in a black ski mask come in with a loaded gun and held the store up, demanding to be given all the cash in the tills. Steve, being the peace maker that he is, tried to calm the guy down, get him to put the gun down and let the customers go. Unfortunately, having gotten so good at defusing situations between Chris and most of the world and his younger cousin's fights, he was pretty damn good at being the peacemaker. Which made the robber think he was an off duty cop.
Before Steve could get out more than a sentence, the kid shot him in the chest.
By the time the ambulance could take him away he barely had a pulse and was looking too pale. The doctors in the ER had said that they might be able to save him if they could get enough blood into him quick enough so could you please take a seat Mr. Kane so we can save your partner.
Six hours later, one lot of emergency surgery to remove the bullet and countless paces across the small waiting room, Chris and their friends wait to hear if Steve would be leaving the hospital with them or in a casket.
"Mr. Kane, could you take a seat, I have something to tell you and your friends,"...
RPS; Chris Kane/Steve Carlson; prompt: missing you; PG; ‘Lonely is the night’; 58 words
"I know you won't get this for days and even then, you probably won't listen to it for a few more. I, I just need you to know that I miss you and I'm sorry. Please, come home?" With a sigh, he puts the phone back in its cradle and hopes his lover will listen to it soon.
You liked any of them - please, leave a comment, there's a mistake - please, leave a comment, you hate any/all of them - exit stage left. Constructive criticism is appreciated but flames will be put on my log fire to keep me toasty warm *g*