A Couple Short-ish Things
Something I wrote at 3am last night, kind of boring, but I figured I'd post it anyway. I went with a slightly different type of Gob than I usually do.
Slight Gob/Vaultie
PG (terribly sorry for the lack of porn)
“Kid,” he said, and it sounded much louder than it actually was because she was drifting in and out of sleep, her head lolling up and down even while sitting upright at the bar. “The barstool isn't a bed, and if you want to make it one, it'll cost you.” The ghoul set down the glass he had just cleaned out. “Moriarty's rules, not mine.”
“I'm sorry,” she muttered rubbing her hands vigorously over her eyes. “I - I haven't slept in almost a full day. That common house is completely full and I don't have the money to rent a room here. I think I might just have to sleep on the ground or something.” She placed her hands on the bar as if she were steadying herself.
The ghoul looked her up and down. “How much do you have?”
She turned her hands over, offering empty palms.
“That much, huh?”
“In the vault, we had everything we needed. I'm just so lost. Needing to pay to sleep somewhere. I'm going to start starving soon and a day ago I had all the food I could ask for. A day ago I had a warm bed and I knew where my dad was.”
“Woah, kid. Please don't get heavy with me - I don't know how to handle an upset woman.”
“Easy for you to say,” she said. “Your world didn't fall apart overnight.”
“True, but it's been shit for years.”
She looked up at him, her blue eyes softening. “I'm sorry to hear that.”
He gave her a weak smile. “Oh, so you're one of those types.”
“What type?”
“The kind to try on the 'woe is me' suit and then melt once someone else mentions their own problems.” He watched her cheeks flush. “Hey, look, I'm sorry for downplaying what happened to you. I just hear so many sob stories, it's hard to imagine not knowing what kind of a shithole this world is. Gotta be pretty scary. Tell you what - you keep it quiet and I'll get you a drink on the house. What's your poison?”
“My what?”
“What do you drink, kid?”
She pursed her lips, then said, “Water?”
The bartender leaned back. “We just have booze here.”
“Oh. I don't drink alcohol.”
The clinical way in which she said 'alcohol' almost sent him reeling. “Well, uh, what else do you want, then?”
“Quite honestly, the only thing I really care about right now is finding some place to sleep. Would Moriarty really charge me if I went and slept over in that corner?” She looked up at him with an expression that said she was asking the question in earnest.
“Ah, Christ.” Just looking at her tired eyes was starting to get to him. Poor kid, all alone for the first time in her life, so tired that she'd sleep on the grimy floor of a dive like Moriarty's. Suddenly his life didn't seem so terrible. At least he had a weak little camaraderie with Nova and a bed upstairs. “Maybe I could talk Nova into sharing her bed with you. I can't promise I can convince her, but I'll try.”
The little vault girl placed her hand on top of his, and said, “Thank you. I really appreciate your help.” He looked down at the smooth, warm hand placed atop his own, and suddenly felt like he didn't want to move a muscle lest any twitch of his hand make her pull away. She smiled at him as if she wasn't even seeing the way he was.
“Take my bed,” he said hoarsely.
“Are you sure? I don't want to put you out just so I don't have to take the floor.”
“Yeah. Come on, I'll show you where it is.”
She grasped his hand as he tried to walk out from behind the bar. “Hey, you don't have to - like - sleep somewhere else. Whenever you go to bed.”
He looked down at her hand. “Waking up to someone like me isn't the most pleasant 'good morning' there is, kid. I'll just get some work done while you're sleeping. It won't be the first time I've pulled an all-nighter.
She frowned. “Thank you for the offer, then, but I can't accept it if it means I'm inconveniencing you.”
“Oh, so you're one of those types.”
Her smile began to return. “What type?”
“The kind that would rather put yourself in major discomfort, than cause a minor one to someone else.”
“I guess you could say that.”
“Come on up and sleep, kid. I'll close the place down for the night and be up in a little while.”
“Thanks again,” she said as they mounted the stairs. “I really appreciate it.”
“Are you sure you don't want me to leave you alone for the night? I'm a strange man. That you just met. In a bar. In a town you didn't know existed.”
He turned back to gage her reaction. Her eyes widened. “Oh. I didn't mean to offer - I just didn't want you to sleep on the floor. I'm sorry if you thought...”
“Woah, kid. I was just talking about sleeping. Just wanted to make sure you're okay with a guy who looks like me getting too close to you.”
“Hey,” she said quietly. “Don't say that...”
“Well, girls like you don't often look at guys like me without flinching.”
Oddly enough, she made a face that looked like he had hurt her feelings with the comment. He opened his door and let her inside. “Make yourself at home. It's not much, but it's... well, it's a bed and that's about it.”
She looked at him as if for permission, then settled into the creaking bed, pushing her back up against the wall to make sure he would have enough room. For a moment, he watched her as she closed her eyes and buried her face in his pillow. “It's because I trust you, you know,” she mumbled, suddenly. “You have very kind eyes.”
“Thank you,” he said quietly. “...for not being afraid of me, I mean.”
She smiled, even while drifting into sleep. “Oh, so you're one of those types.”
The bartender leaned against the doorway. “What type?”
“The kind who isn't used to people treating them like a human being, even though he is very nice.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I'm just that kind.”
“You should get used to it. I think we should be friends.”
“I could always use one of those.”
“Me too.”
He told her he'd be up in a bit, then shut off the light and closed the door behind himself. He looked at his hand that she had touched. By the time he finally remembered to go downstairs and lock up, he had realized he hadn't even asked her name.
And secondly (btw, I noticed that my postings are terribly disporportionate. I write way more Charon/LW than Gob/LW but I always seem to finish and post the Gob stuff.):
Charon/Vaultie
PG-13ish
While Ahzrukal is sleeping, she comes in real quiet, sits down at the table and starts to whisper. After awhile, she said that sometimes there's nothing she loves more than to watch a Talon merc's head explode, and sometimes all the killing really gets to her. She kind of reminds me of myself sometimes
She told me about a friend she had back in her vault and how she misses her. She told me that it'd be nice to not be so lonely anymore.
I don't know why see comes in here sometimes in the middle of the night, just to talk to someone that will never talk back. She sits at the table with me and just talks at me. We can barely see the outlines of each other's faces, but maybe that's for the better.
And suddenly she grabbed my hand. I hadn't touched a smoothskin in god knows how many years, let alone the warm, delicate hand of a woman. I didn't mean it, but I pulled my hand free as suddenly as she had touched me, but, astounding the part of my brain that thought it must have been a mistake, she grabbed it again, held it in hers for a beat, and then placed my hand on her thigh and pushed it higher.
In the dark, and so very quiet, she said, “Please touch me.”
There's not a big margin between me and the part of me that Ahzrukhal gets to have. Truly there was nothing I wanted to do more than rip every shred of clothing off of her, but I was honor-bound to keep watch and fucking a woman up against the wall was neither being vigilant, nor would it be quiet.
For a moment, I had to. I had to feel the heat of her body, and the quiver of her breath as she sighed at the contact. Had to press into just the spot she asked me to, and hear her stop breathing, and the way her other hand grabbed my forearm and squeezed.
But that was all and I pulled my hand back, and told her, “I can't.”
And she says, “I know.” For a minute or two, I just listened to the sound of her breathing, then she stood up very quietly, and whispered in my ear, “I almost have enough money to buy your contract from him.”
And as she walked out again, this place seemed more like torture than ever before. Before at least I could tell myself I had no where else to go if I were free. And goddamn her for giving me a scrap of hope that was more likely to be another false trail than a promise.
Also, I finally figured out how to format this so it doesn't look like crap. For some reason I have to C&P into my word processor and 'replace all' "< p >" with "< br >". Weird.
Slight Gob/Vaultie
PG (terribly sorry for the lack of porn)
“Kid,” he said, and it sounded much louder than it actually was because she was drifting in and out of sleep, her head lolling up and down even while sitting upright at the bar. “The barstool isn't a bed, and if you want to make it one, it'll cost you.” The ghoul set down the glass he had just cleaned out. “Moriarty's rules, not mine.”
“I'm sorry,” she muttered rubbing her hands vigorously over her eyes. “I - I haven't slept in almost a full day. That common house is completely full and I don't have the money to rent a room here. I think I might just have to sleep on the ground or something.” She placed her hands on the bar as if she were steadying herself.
The ghoul looked her up and down. “How much do you have?”
She turned her hands over, offering empty palms.
“That much, huh?”
“In the vault, we had everything we needed. I'm just so lost. Needing to pay to sleep somewhere. I'm going to start starving soon and a day ago I had all the food I could ask for. A day ago I had a warm bed and I knew where my dad was.”
“Woah, kid. Please don't get heavy with me - I don't know how to handle an upset woman.”
“Easy for you to say,” she said. “Your world didn't fall apart overnight.”
“True, but it's been shit for years.”
She looked up at him, her blue eyes softening. “I'm sorry to hear that.”
He gave her a weak smile. “Oh, so you're one of those types.”
“What type?”
“The kind to try on the 'woe is me' suit and then melt once someone else mentions their own problems.” He watched her cheeks flush. “Hey, look, I'm sorry for downplaying what happened to you. I just hear so many sob stories, it's hard to imagine not knowing what kind of a shithole this world is. Gotta be pretty scary. Tell you what - you keep it quiet and I'll get you a drink on the house. What's your poison?”
“My what?”
“What do you drink, kid?”
She pursed her lips, then said, “Water?”
The bartender leaned back. “We just have booze here.”
“Oh. I don't drink alcohol.”
The clinical way in which she said 'alcohol' almost sent him reeling. “Well, uh, what else do you want, then?”
“Quite honestly, the only thing I really care about right now is finding some place to sleep. Would Moriarty really charge me if I went and slept over in that corner?” She looked up at him with an expression that said she was asking the question in earnest.
“Ah, Christ.” Just looking at her tired eyes was starting to get to him. Poor kid, all alone for the first time in her life, so tired that she'd sleep on the grimy floor of a dive like Moriarty's. Suddenly his life didn't seem so terrible. At least he had a weak little camaraderie with Nova and a bed upstairs. “Maybe I could talk Nova into sharing her bed with you. I can't promise I can convince her, but I'll try.”
The little vault girl placed her hand on top of his, and said, “Thank you. I really appreciate your help.” He looked down at the smooth, warm hand placed atop his own, and suddenly felt like he didn't want to move a muscle lest any twitch of his hand make her pull away. She smiled at him as if she wasn't even seeing the way he was.
“Take my bed,” he said hoarsely.
“Are you sure? I don't want to put you out just so I don't have to take the floor.”
“Yeah. Come on, I'll show you where it is.”
She grasped his hand as he tried to walk out from behind the bar. “Hey, you don't have to - like - sleep somewhere else. Whenever you go to bed.”
He looked down at her hand. “Waking up to someone like me isn't the most pleasant 'good morning' there is, kid. I'll just get some work done while you're sleeping. It won't be the first time I've pulled an all-nighter.
She frowned. “Thank you for the offer, then, but I can't accept it if it means I'm inconveniencing you.”
“Oh, so you're one of those types.”
Her smile began to return. “What type?”
“The kind that would rather put yourself in major discomfort, than cause a minor one to someone else.”
“I guess you could say that.”
“Come on up and sleep, kid. I'll close the place down for the night and be up in a little while.”
“Thanks again,” she said as they mounted the stairs. “I really appreciate it.”
“Are you sure you don't want me to leave you alone for the night? I'm a strange man. That you just met. In a bar. In a town you didn't know existed.”
He turned back to gage her reaction. Her eyes widened. “Oh. I didn't mean to offer - I just didn't want you to sleep on the floor. I'm sorry if you thought...”
“Woah, kid. I was just talking about sleeping. Just wanted to make sure you're okay with a guy who looks like me getting too close to you.”
“Hey,” she said quietly. “Don't say that...”
“Well, girls like you don't often look at guys like me without flinching.”
Oddly enough, she made a face that looked like he had hurt her feelings with the comment. He opened his door and let her inside. “Make yourself at home. It's not much, but it's... well, it's a bed and that's about it.”
She looked at him as if for permission, then settled into the creaking bed, pushing her back up against the wall to make sure he would have enough room. For a moment, he watched her as she closed her eyes and buried her face in his pillow. “It's because I trust you, you know,” she mumbled, suddenly. “You have very kind eyes.”
“Thank you,” he said quietly. “...for not being afraid of me, I mean.”
She smiled, even while drifting into sleep. “Oh, so you're one of those types.”
The bartender leaned against the doorway. “What type?”
“The kind who isn't used to people treating them like a human being, even though he is very nice.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I'm just that kind.”
“You should get used to it. I think we should be friends.”
“I could always use one of those.”
“Me too.”
He told her he'd be up in a bit, then shut off the light and closed the door behind himself. He looked at his hand that she had touched. By the time he finally remembered to go downstairs and lock up, he had realized he hadn't even asked her name.
And secondly (btw, I noticed that my postings are terribly disporportionate. I write way more Charon/LW than Gob/LW but I always seem to finish and post the Gob stuff.):
Charon/Vaultie
PG-13ish
While Ahzrukal is sleeping, she comes in real quiet, sits down at the table and starts to whisper. After awhile, she said that sometimes there's nothing she loves more than to watch a Talon merc's head explode, and sometimes all the killing really gets to her. She kind of reminds me of myself sometimes
She told me about a friend she had back in her vault and how she misses her. She told me that it'd be nice to not be so lonely anymore.
I don't know why see comes in here sometimes in the middle of the night, just to talk to someone that will never talk back. She sits at the table with me and just talks at me. We can barely see the outlines of each other's faces, but maybe that's for the better.
And suddenly she grabbed my hand. I hadn't touched a smoothskin in god knows how many years, let alone the warm, delicate hand of a woman. I didn't mean it, but I pulled my hand free as suddenly as she had touched me, but, astounding the part of my brain that thought it must have been a mistake, she grabbed it again, held it in hers for a beat, and then placed my hand on her thigh and pushed it higher.
In the dark, and so very quiet, she said, “Please touch me.”
There's not a big margin between me and the part of me that Ahzrukhal gets to have. Truly there was nothing I wanted to do more than rip every shred of clothing off of her, but I was honor-bound to keep watch and fucking a woman up against the wall was neither being vigilant, nor would it be quiet.
For a moment, I had to. I had to feel the heat of her body, and the quiver of her breath as she sighed at the contact. Had to press into just the spot she asked me to, and hear her stop breathing, and the way her other hand grabbed my forearm and squeezed.
But that was all and I pulled my hand back, and told her, “I can't.”
And she says, “I know.” For a minute or two, I just listened to the sound of her breathing, then she stood up very quietly, and whispered in my ear, “I almost have enough money to buy your contract from him.”
And as she walked out again, this place seemed more like torture than ever before. Before at least I could tell myself I had no where else to go if I were free. And goddamn her for giving me a scrap of hope that was more likely to be another false trail than a promise.
Also, I finally figured out how to format this so it doesn't look like crap. For some reason I have to C&P into my word processor and 'replace all' "< p >" with "< br >". Weird.