Prompt drabbles
Title: Ice
Author: Jo
Pairing: Christian Kane/Dave Boreanaz
Rating: PG13
Prompt: clear, authority
Author's Notes: Written for azewewish, from this post.
"Don't move."
"Wha..." Chris turned his head, winced as a firm hand connected with one bare cheek. "Alright, alright." A shiver rippled up his spine at the command in Dave's voice. Kinky games...who knew, man? Then something cold and wet dragged across his ass. Chris practically yelped. "The fuck?"
Dave laughed, held his hand so Chris could see. Ice.
Another yelp as the ice was slid, slow and easy, down the cleft of his ass, across his opening to touch his balls. Just like that, everything was sharp, crystal in his vision as Dave's warm tongue followed the ice's path.
* * *
Title: Speech
Author: Jo
Pairing: Jensen Ackles, Christian Kane
Rating: PG
Prompt: whether Steve should cancel the show
Author's Notes: Written for coolwhipdiva, from this post.
"Steve called this morning. He's losing his voice."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. He sounded like crap."
"That bad?"
"Nah, not quite. But, man, you could tell. He's gonna be talking in whispers by dark."
"Poor bastard."
"He said something about a cortisone shot."
"Huh."
"In the ass."
"Ouch."
"Yeah, pretty much. He asked me what I thought he should do."
"So what'd you tell him?"
"Cancel."
"Funny."
"I'm serious."
"I know." A short pause. "That crowd, man...they'd lynch him. Then come looking for you for telling him to do it."
"Aw, c'mon. They can't be that bad."
"You don't know those girls..."
* * *
Title: Deckchairs
Author: Jo
Pairing: Christian Kane/Steve Carlson
Rating: PG
Prompt: barefoot
Author's Notes: Written for killerweasel, from this post.
Chris flopped down on the deckchair, placed the fresh beer on Steve's stomach. He almost fell over laughing when Steve shot straight up, cussing a blue streak.
"Bastard," Steve muttered, giving Chris a dark look after his heart stopped racing.
"Didn't want you fallin' asleep," Chris said with an unrepentant grin.
"Fuck off."
"Nah." Chris swung his feet up into Steve's lap.
Steve shoved them off, slid his chair a few inches away. "Get them things off me."
"They're clean."
"They're funny-looking."
"I got cute feet."
"Who says?"
"My mama. Gonna argue with her?"
"Fuck off."
"Here we go again."
- written Sept. 21, 2006
Author: Jo
Pairing: Christian Kane/Dave Boreanaz
Rating: PG13
Prompt: clear, authority
Author's Notes: Written for azewewish, from this post.
"Don't move."
"Wha..." Chris turned his head, winced as a firm hand connected with one bare cheek. "Alright, alright." A shiver rippled up his spine at the command in Dave's voice. Kinky games...who knew, man? Then something cold and wet dragged across his ass. Chris practically yelped. "The fuck?"
Dave laughed, held his hand so Chris could see. Ice.
Another yelp as the ice was slid, slow and easy, down the cleft of his ass, across his opening to touch his balls. Just like that, everything was sharp, crystal in his vision as Dave's warm tongue followed the ice's path.
* * *
Title: Speech
Author: Jo
Pairing: Jensen Ackles, Christian Kane
Rating: PG
Prompt: whether Steve should cancel the show
Author's Notes: Written for coolwhipdiva, from this post.
"Steve called this morning. He's losing his voice."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. He sounded like crap."
"That bad?"
"Nah, not quite. But, man, you could tell. He's gonna be talking in whispers by dark."
"Poor bastard."
"He said something about a cortisone shot."
"Huh."
"In the ass."
"Ouch."
"Yeah, pretty much. He asked me what I thought he should do."
"So what'd you tell him?"
"Cancel."
"Funny."
"I'm serious."
"I know." A short pause. "That crowd, man...they'd lynch him. Then come looking for you for telling him to do it."
"Aw, c'mon. They can't be that bad."
"You don't know those girls..."
* * *
Title: Deckchairs
Author: Jo
Pairing: Christian Kane/Steve Carlson
Rating: PG
Prompt: barefoot
Author's Notes: Written for killerweasel, from this post.
Chris flopped down on the deckchair, placed the fresh beer on Steve's stomach. He almost fell over laughing when Steve shot straight up, cussing a blue streak.
"Bastard," Steve muttered, giving Chris a dark look after his heart stopped racing.
"Didn't want you fallin' asleep," Chris said with an unrepentant grin.
"Fuck off."
"Nah." Chris swung his feet up into Steve's lap.
Steve shoved them off, slid his chair a few inches away. "Get them things off me."
"They're clean."
"They're funny-looking."
"I got cute feet."
"Who says?"
"My mama. Gonna argue with her?"
"Fuck off."
"Here we go again."
- written Sept. 21, 2006