A few from comment_fic
Here's a couple of small fics that I wrote for comment_fic yesterday. I hope you like them :)
[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.]
RPS; Chris/Steve; prompt: seeing red; PG-13 (12A); ‘Bar brawls aren’t the safest night-time pursuit’; 504 words
It had finally happened. Someone had landed a punch on Chris before he'd been able to land one of his own. Momentarily shocked at the pain lancing through his left cheek, he failed to warn Steve about the beefy biker coming up behind him. Somehow the bikers' chains had become wrapped around Steve's torso and were being pulled tighter and tighter, so tight that Steve could hear his ribs creaking in protest and everything was going grey with black dots dancing around his vision.
Seeing Steve slowly pass out over the other side of the bar from him, and not able to do anything for his best friend and lover, Chris saw red and really let loose with the attacks.
His world was reduced to dodging and weaving, punching and kicking, throwing broken bottles at those who tried to get away from him. All loose limbed movement that'd be graceful if it weren't for the destruction left in his wake.
By the time Chris reached the other side of the bar - mere moments after he saw red but to him, every moment seemed an age where Steve's life was concerned - Steve was slumped over on his left side and was being slowly dragged out the side door by the owner of the chains that were still around his chest. Digging in and crushing his ribs so he could barely breathe. Everyone who'd come up against Chris in his fight to get to Steve was out for the count and in varying degrees of broken. The only two left conscious in the bar were the biker hauling Steve across the beer and peanut covered floor, and Chris.
"Y'gonna hand him over or m'I gonna have t'kick yer butt too?" Chris asked, swaggering over to where big and beefy was holding the side door open.
The biker looked up and realised for the first time that all of his companions were out for the count, all of them taken out by the little cowboy in front of him. Thinking that maybe he should save his own hide and run, the biker threw the ends of the chains at Chris and ran out to his bike.
With the roar of a powerful engine fading into the distance, Chris carefully unwrapped the chains from Steve's body and laid him out on the floor with Chris' jacket under his head.
"I need an ambulance, my fr-lover's not breathin' an' his chest's all crushed up...Address? Yeah, we're at a bar, uh, Harry's on Reddards just outta town. Yeah, that one." Calling for an ambulance never seemed as complicated to Chris as it did now. He wasn't stupid, he knew that Steve more than likely had multiple broken ribs and some of them might even be poking his lungs and shouldn't be moved, but he couldn't keep his hands to himself. Had to re-assure himself that Steve was still alive and with him.
"Stay with me darlin', help's on its way, just don't leave me darlin'. Don't leave me."
RPS; Jensen/Jared; prompt: taste the rainbow; PG; ‘Slice of sweet’; 62 words
People always say that kisses taste of what the person you're kissing last ate or drank and that indescribable little extra that's just them, so you'd think that after a coffee break, Jensen would taste of coffee, maybe a cigarette or two, and that little hint of something that's all Jensen.
All Jared can taste when he kisses Jensen, is the rainbow.
~~~
You liked either 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*
charlies_dragon
[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.]
RPS; Chris/Steve; prompt: seeing red; PG-13 (12A); ‘Bar brawls aren’t the safest night-time pursuit’; 504 words
It had finally happened. Someone had landed a punch on Chris before he'd been able to land one of his own. Momentarily shocked at the pain lancing through his left cheek, he failed to warn Steve about the beefy biker coming up behind him. Somehow the bikers' chains had become wrapped around Steve's torso and were being pulled tighter and tighter, so tight that Steve could hear his ribs creaking in protest and everything was going grey with black dots dancing around his vision.
Seeing Steve slowly pass out over the other side of the bar from him, and not able to do anything for his best friend and lover, Chris saw red and really let loose with the attacks.
His world was reduced to dodging and weaving, punching and kicking, throwing broken bottles at those who tried to get away from him. All loose limbed movement that'd be graceful if it weren't for the destruction left in his wake.
By the time Chris reached the other side of the bar - mere moments after he saw red but to him, every moment seemed an age where Steve's life was concerned - Steve was slumped over on his left side and was being slowly dragged out the side door by the owner of the chains that were still around his chest. Digging in and crushing his ribs so he could barely breathe. Everyone who'd come up against Chris in his fight to get to Steve was out for the count and in varying degrees of broken. The only two left conscious in the bar were the biker hauling Steve across the beer and peanut covered floor, and Chris.
"Y'gonna hand him over or m'I gonna have t'kick yer butt too?" Chris asked, swaggering over to where big and beefy was holding the side door open.
The biker looked up and realised for the first time that all of his companions were out for the count, all of them taken out by the little cowboy in front of him. Thinking that maybe he should save his own hide and run, the biker threw the ends of the chains at Chris and ran out to his bike.
With the roar of a powerful engine fading into the distance, Chris carefully unwrapped the chains from Steve's body and laid him out on the floor with Chris' jacket under his head.
"I need an ambulance, my fr-lover's not breathin' an' his chest's all crushed up...Address? Yeah, we're at a bar, uh, Harry's on Reddards just outta town. Yeah, that one." Calling for an ambulance never seemed as complicated to Chris as it did now. He wasn't stupid, he knew that Steve more than likely had multiple broken ribs and some of them might even be poking his lungs and shouldn't be moved, but he couldn't keep his hands to himself. Had to re-assure himself that Steve was still alive and with him.
"Stay with me darlin', help's on its way, just don't leave me darlin'. Don't leave me."
RPS; Jensen/Jared; prompt: taste the rainbow; PG; ‘Slice of sweet’; 62 words
People always say that kisses taste of what the person you're kissing last ate or drank and that indescribable little extra that's just them, so you'd think that after a coffee break, Jensen would taste of coffee, maybe a cigarette or two, and that little hint of something that's all Jensen.
All Jared can taste when he kisses Jensen, is the rainbow.
~~~
You liked either 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*
charlies_dragon