FIC: Slave To Design. (1/1?)
Title: Slave To Design. (1/1?)
Fandom: Real People / 30 Seconds To Mars.
Pairing: Jared/Tomo.
Word Count: 970.
Rating: R.
Warnings: slash, implied and alluded to BDSM activities, a hint of fluff. Kind of. Are these two even capable of fluff?
Summary: Admiration made him follow in his footsteps the first time. The path twisted a bit, but something deeper drew them back together. Told from Tomo's POV.
Author's Note: So, I literally haven't touched my word processor program in probably a month, yet this came to me out of the blue this afternoon and wrote itself in about 45 minutes. Sometimes it's best not to question the muses for fear of my own sanity (or insanity, whatever, lol). Also, I'm considering writing a second part or more explicit version of this as sub!Tomo doesn't seem to want to get out of my head and he's rather distracting...
Also, I want to take a sec to thank everyone who nominated and/or voted for me in the 30 fic awards. It was really flattering and humbling to see so many of my fics nominated, and even more so to place in two of the categories. Hopefully I can continue to keep up the good work/writing for ya'll. :]
This was Jared's world, not Tomo's, but he always followed his lead. What could the harm be? There had to be something to it if it caught Jared's attention like it did.
He woke up aching and sore and when Tomo raised a hand to shield his eyes from sunlight he noticed skin rubbed red, not quite raw. A hot shower and a few cigarettes and it wasn't so bad, not really. He wasn't exactly itching for a repeat but it was alright. Another new experience to add to the list and chalk up to being an adopted Leto.
A different night but a similar situation. It unfolded a little differently and he wasn't quite as sore the next morning. It actually felt somewhat nice, if he thought about it.
And really, what happened was inevitable.
There came a morning that seemed the same as all the others. His wrists rarely hurt anymore and the ache in his lower back was almost pleasant now, like how it felt when hot water soothed tense muscles. The faint residual taste of rubber was no more annoying than morning breath and his tongue sleepily ran over bruised lips. But the sheets against his skin seemed softer than those in his apartment and something was brushing his face, no, wait... was someone stroking his hair? Tired eyes opened, taking a moment to lose the blurriness of an exhausted sleep, and they shifted to the side and up to find a set of blue eyes that were clouded with something, concern maybe.
Tomo couldn't make out the words mumbled as a kiss pressed to the top of his head but the tone sounded sad, possibly regretful. It was far too early to be trying to decipher anything. He needed at least two cigarettes and a cup of coffee, and maybe a slice of leftover pizza.
When he woke up again it was to familiar thumping coming through the wall. Strangely enough, that snapped him to consciousness where the familiar gaze didn't. He should be waking up in his apartment, not... here.
Tomo got dressed in record time and would have managed to slip out unnoticed if only Shannon hadn't come out in the hall at the same time. How was his hangover, didn't he know he shouldn't go out drinking alone if he was going to have that much? Apparently Jared had been at the same club and found Tomo slumped at the bar with some girl trying to dig in his wallet. Tomo went along with Shannon's words and the story that had obviously been given to him because he wasn't about to share what he remembered of the past night. That he had never seen Jared at all because he was going there on his own now, and he didn't mingle very long anyway. That most of his night had been spent in a dark room with darker desires and he passed out before he ever saw the face of who he was with that night because that was how he liked it. Fucked into unconsciousness like a whore, someone had put it once. He didn't care what they called it as long as they didn't stop.
He couldn't get out of the house fast enough. It was a long walk to his apartment and by the time he got there, he had a headache so bad he wished it were from alcohol. That would be easier to deal with than the knowledge of whose hands had been on and in his body the night before, among other things.
For the first time ever Tomo blew off the band. They had studio time that day but fuck it, he couldn't deal with that right now. No way in hell. He put his Blackberry on silent and sat himself at a little dive bar he liked to go to from time to time until the bartender called him a cab and had someone put him in it. The next morning he woke up wanting to throttle whoever invented whiskey, and then put himself out of his misery.
No yelling came at the studio that day. The previous day wasn't mentioned at all, in fact. He could feel Shannon's puzzlement at both of their actions because it was unlike them but right then he didn't care. He listened to the beat of pounding blood inside his head and cruised on autopilot.
It was the only way he could cope because everything had changed and he really wasn't sure who was to blame. Probably him. As if Jared ever did anything wrong in his eyes.
Three months passed before Tomo woke up that way again.
Well, kind of.
The sheets were the same but the rest of the familiar cues were missing. In their place was a warm weight on his chest that he quickly determined wasn't a pillow or bundle of covers. Though his breathing had changed as soon as he became awake he kept his eyes closed as long as he could stand to, which amazingly wasn't very when fingers were sliding along his cheek and combing his hair back from his face. Fingers, he noted, that felt calloused like his own were.
There was a feeling in his chest that he was fairly certain was dread but he couldn't pinpoint just why he would feel that, or if it actually was. His eyes cracked open the way one's did when they were certain a hit or punch was coming. The way the expression hovering above him took his breath away was pretty similar.
Neither of them spoke, they just stared. But when a thumb brushed across his lips he parted them and when lips pressed to his own he let himself lean up into the kiss.
Tomo always followed Jared's lead, after all.
Fandom: Real People / 30 Seconds To Mars.
Pairing: Jared/Tomo.
Word Count: 970.
Rating: R.
Warnings: slash, implied and alluded to BDSM activities, a hint of fluff. Kind of. Are these two even capable of fluff?
Summary: Admiration made him follow in his footsteps the first time. The path twisted a bit, but something deeper drew them back together. Told from Tomo's POV.
Author's Note: So, I literally haven't touched my word processor program in probably a month, yet this came to me out of the blue this afternoon and wrote itself in about 45 minutes. Sometimes it's best not to question the muses for fear of my own sanity (or insanity, whatever, lol). Also, I'm considering writing a second part or more explicit version of this as sub!Tomo doesn't seem to want to get out of my head and he's rather distracting...
Also, I want to take a sec to thank everyone who nominated and/or voted for me in the 30 fic awards. It was really flattering and humbling to see so many of my fics nominated, and even more so to place in two of the categories. Hopefully I can continue to keep up the good work/writing for ya'll. :]
This was Jared's world, not Tomo's, but he always followed his lead. What could the harm be? There had to be something to it if it caught Jared's attention like it did.
He woke up aching and sore and when Tomo raised a hand to shield his eyes from sunlight he noticed skin rubbed red, not quite raw. A hot shower and a few cigarettes and it wasn't so bad, not really. He wasn't exactly itching for a repeat but it was alright. Another new experience to add to the list and chalk up to being an adopted Leto.
A different night but a similar situation. It unfolded a little differently and he wasn't quite as sore the next morning. It actually felt somewhat nice, if he thought about it.
And really, what happened was inevitable.
There came a morning that seemed the same as all the others. His wrists rarely hurt anymore and the ache in his lower back was almost pleasant now, like how it felt when hot water soothed tense muscles. The faint residual taste of rubber was no more annoying than morning breath and his tongue sleepily ran over bruised lips. But the sheets against his skin seemed softer than those in his apartment and something was brushing his face, no, wait... was someone stroking his hair? Tired eyes opened, taking a moment to lose the blurriness of an exhausted sleep, and they shifted to the side and up to find a set of blue eyes that were clouded with something, concern maybe.
Tomo couldn't make out the words mumbled as a kiss pressed to the top of his head but the tone sounded sad, possibly regretful. It was far too early to be trying to decipher anything. He needed at least two cigarettes and a cup of coffee, and maybe a slice of leftover pizza.
When he woke up again it was to familiar thumping coming through the wall. Strangely enough, that snapped him to consciousness where the familiar gaze didn't. He should be waking up in his apartment, not... here.
Tomo got dressed in record time and would have managed to slip out unnoticed if only Shannon hadn't come out in the hall at the same time. How was his hangover, didn't he know he shouldn't go out drinking alone if he was going to have that much? Apparently Jared had been at the same club and found Tomo slumped at the bar with some girl trying to dig in his wallet. Tomo went along with Shannon's words and the story that had obviously been given to him because he wasn't about to share what he remembered of the past night. That he had never seen Jared at all because he was going there on his own now, and he didn't mingle very long anyway. That most of his night had been spent in a dark room with darker desires and he passed out before he ever saw the face of who he was with that night because that was how he liked it. Fucked into unconsciousness like a whore, someone had put it once. He didn't care what they called it as long as they didn't stop.
He couldn't get out of the house fast enough. It was a long walk to his apartment and by the time he got there, he had a headache so bad he wished it were from alcohol. That would be easier to deal with than the knowledge of whose hands had been on and in his body the night before, among other things.
For the first time ever Tomo blew off the band. They had studio time that day but fuck it, he couldn't deal with that right now. No way in hell. He put his Blackberry on silent and sat himself at a little dive bar he liked to go to from time to time until the bartender called him a cab and had someone put him in it. The next morning he woke up wanting to throttle whoever invented whiskey, and then put himself out of his misery.
No yelling came at the studio that day. The previous day wasn't mentioned at all, in fact. He could feel Shannon's puzzlement at both of their actions because it was unlike them but right then he didn't care. He listened to the beat of pounding blood inside his head and cruised on autopilot.
It was the only way he could cope because everything had changed and he really wasn't sure who was to blame. Probably him. As if Jared ever did anything wrong in his eyes.
Three months passed before Tomo woke up that way again.
Well, kind of.
The sheets were the same but the rest of the familiar cues were missing. In their place was a warm weight on his chest that he quickly determined wasn't a pillow or bundle of covers. Though his breathing had changed as soon as he became awake he kept his eyes closed as long as he could stand to, which amazingly wasn't very when fingers were sliding along his cheek and combing his hair back from his face. Fingers, he noted, that felt calloused like his own were.
There was a feeling in his chest that he was fairly certain was dread but he couldn't pinpoint just why he would feel that, or if it actually was. His eyes cracked open the way one's did when they were certain a hit or punch was coming. The way the expression hovering above him took his breath away was pretty similar.
Neither of them spoke, they just stared. But when a thumb brushed across his lips he parted them and when lips pressed to his own he let himself lean up into the kiss.
Tomo always followed Jared's lead, after all.