PROMPT POST #1
Here is where you post your prompts and/or fills! Please read the rules first, and then go crazy.
ETA: I haven't, as of this point, deleted or screened any comments to the meme. There is a problem with LJ making comments disappear - generally speaking, browsing logged in helps, as I've heard clearing your history/cookies and refreshing helps as ( Read more... )
ETA: I haven't, as of this point, deleted or screened any comments to the meme. There is a problem with LJ making comments disappear - generally speaking, browsing logged in helps, as I've heard clearing your history/cookies and refreshing helps as ( Read more... )
Okay, short story is, after the battle of parallax, Hal gets to know the other lanterns better. He's amazed at the variety of shapes, sizes, and textures. Hal is a very tactile person, but he knows better than to just feel another lanterns skin without asking. <-- He does know what respect is, even if he's a little immature.
One day (you can make one up if you wish!) he sees Tomar in the Oa Archives. Hal accidentally knocks into Tomar and has to steady them both. Cue Hal touching alien skin/suit for the first time (training not included)
Things that I would love to see (don't have to include all)
1. Pointing out little things.. likevfeeling Tomar's strange rib cage, or notcing his super tiny waist
2. Somebody interrupts them (omg, Sinestro... and he's not too pleased at the way Hal is looking at Tomar, Jealous much!?)
3. Public Place, the thrill of just touching in public, without drawing too much attention (Maybe nobody visits the Oa archives?)
4. Hal being the primary feeler-up, with Tomar not wanting to enjoy it at first, but does anyway, XD
XD I'm not looking for a wham, bam, thank you ma'am type of fic, heck, they don't really have to go further than just touching. Tomar doesn't get enough love. ^^
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So the Archives are vast, and due to their sheer size, quiet. Tomar Re enjoys these halls for precisely that reason.
It's only mildly comparable to the peaceful silence of space, but on a world as teeming with activity as Oa, this represents the best refuge. Tomar is scanning the data chips, idly searching for the section on the historic wars of Sector 1921--the ring provides adequate summaries, but nothing comparable to scope of information truly available--when a noise behind him draws his attention.
Hal Jordan, the human, shows his teeth. A smile, Tomar reminds himself, a human expression of politeness, happiness and/or affection. Tomar bows his head in acknowledgement. "Greetings, Hal Jordan," he says, and Hal's smile widens.
"Hey Tomar," he says, easily, and Tomar is again struck by Hal's open nature, how quickly he's adapting. His smooth skin is dappled with small wounds from his battle with Parallax, already healing. He moves around to glance at the data chip in Tomar's hand. "Am I interrupting? You got an all-nighter to pull on a paper or something?"
The reference is lost on Tomar, so he merely shakes his head and slides the data record back into its proper place. "No," he says, "I was merely seeking solitude."
The warmth in Hal's eyes dims a little, and Tomar is surprised at how quickly he's able to read the minutiae of Hal's expressions. He holds up a hand to forestall Hal's departure. "But I welcome your company."
Hal brightens again, as Tomar had hoped to see. He leads Hal towards the windows, where there is a series of small reading alcoves with data terminals, all unoccupied today. Hal settles lightly on the edge of one chair, designed to accommodate a multitude of alien body shapes. He's staring out the window, at the cityscape of Oa. Green light streaks across the sky, and a handful of stars are already visible. Tomar sees the nearest star system of Sector 054, called Tri'lth by its inhabitants, and a binary pair he does not know. He cannot see his home star from Oa.
Neither can Hal Jordan, for that matter, because Hal, not looking away from the window, says, "It all just seems so--man, I don't know. Infinite." He turns to look at Tomar, and his soft human eyes are wide when he says, "How the hell do you ever get used to it?"
Tomar reaches out, and touches Hal's hand. When Hal doesn't pull away, he draws it towards his ridged chestbone, which covers his aortic circulator. "My home is here," he says. "As is my quadrant, and Oa, and all the space around them, even out into infinity. All contained within me." He cannot smile, not the way Hal Jordan would expect, but he lets the warmth show in his eyes and his words. "Not so big after all, hmm?"
Hal laughs, and spreads his fingers across the narrow curve of Tomar's chest, spanning the Lantern symbol on his uniform. "That was almost philosophical," he says. "Kind of like Carol after three martinis." And then Hal cocks his head. "Feel free to tell me to piss off if this is massively culturally insensitive, but, can I just--touch you?"
Tomar narrow his eyes a little, but Hal Jordan's eyes are wide and curious, a human thrown out into space taking in everything he can. And really, this is just another way of taking that infinity inside yourself, So Tomar nods, and says, "I allow it."
"Okay," says Hal. "Just, let me know if I'm heading into dangerous territory here."
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"The joints can separate," says Tomar, and at Hal's quizzical look, detaches the pectoral joints and tucks his arms behind his back, presenting the streamlined shape of his narrow chest. Hal barks a laugh.
"I did that once when I was seven and I fell out of tree," he says. "Don't think my body was supposed to do it, though."
Tomar clicks his beak in agreement. "Perhaps not. I prefer to fly this way, during long space flights. The effects of the ring in vacuum make drag negligible, but I find it--aesthetically pleasing."
Hal hums, his fingers stroking upward. "Space shark," he says, and gently traces the pharyngeal arches along the curve of Tomar's throat. "Your skin's colder than mine," he says, and then maps along the curved ridges. "Gills?" he asks, surprised.
"Pharyngeal bone arches," Tomar corrects. "Vestigial, no openings anymore. My race evolved in the sea."
Tomar flares the arches in demonstration, and Hal fits his fingers into the spaces between. Ten warm points of contact, and Hal's skin feels surprisingly pleasurable against his own. Tomar inhales sharply, and Hal's gaze flick up to meet his. "All right there?" he asks, and begins to draw back.
Tomar catches his hands and holds them against his throat. An act of trust, perhaps, but Hal has already demonstrated himself well-worthy. And the sensation of touch, especially to such sensitive areas, is infrequent, and worth keeping.
"Sensitive," Tomar says, and strokes his own fingers along the backs of Hal's knuckles. "But pleasant. Would you keep them there, a moment more?"
Hal smiles, one corner of his mouth quirking higher than the other. It's an oddly endearing gesture. "Okay," he says. "Just worried that I might have hit--hey, did you know Kilowogg and I have our junk in the same place?"
Tomar's ring parses 'junk' to read as either debris, refuse, or male gonads/genitalia. He winces. "I don't know that I want to learn how you discovered this fact."
"Kicked him there, first time we trained." Hal grins, unapologetic. "Worth the concussion."
Curiosity eventually wins out. Tomar tilts his head, carful not to draw away from Hal's hands, and says, "And where do you keep your--junk, as it were?"
Hal raises one eyebrow. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours." And Tomar blinks, because that was undeniably--flirtacious.
He takes a moment to think about what they look like here, hidden away in this alcove in the Archives. Hal Jordan's warm hands cupping the vulnerable ridges of his throat, Tomar leaning so close that their faces are almost touching.
It's a surprisingly arousing thought, and Tomar considers his options for a moment before leaning closer. "I accept your offer," he says, the tip of his beak just grazing the curve of Hal's ear.
Hal shivers, and his fingers pulse warm against Tomar's throat. It feels--extremely good. Hal leans in, and presses his soft human mouth to one sensitive arch, and Tomar hums, tilts his head to allow better access, uses one arm to draw Hal down to him.
He feels Hal's mouth--so warm, so giving--curve against his neck. "Space," Hal whispers against his skin, "is so cool."
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I just...
dayum.
I love the vocabulary and slow, careful pace you used here. I'm TERRIBLY sad you didn't continue, but the in itself was a wonderful read because it seemed well paced with Tomar's careful and calculated personality. <3
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... *falls over ded* That was exactly what I was looking for, thank you so much! That was hot... and sensual... *melts*
Hal, you a naughty boy!
Thank you! XD I hope to see you more around here.
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