jellybean_slash: "The Jacket" (NL/BW, R)
Author: jellybean_slash
Title: The Jacket
Rating: R
Prompt: #19, "Leather"
Date: 03/24/07
Summary: It was really just a jacket.
Pairing: NL/BW
Word Count: 298
Notes: Written for eeyore9990 who requested Billville with a hair fetish. I tried my best, hon!
It was really just a jacket. Soft black leather, a sturdy zipper that still sounded brand new every time he zipped it up, and a couple of pockets at the sides. Millions of other people were bound to have the very same in their closets. Still, when Neville slipped the jacket on, it was like he became this new, far more confident person. Gone was the boy-at-heart that everybody knew and liked to laugh at, and in his place was a man; in control, indestructible, and in high demand.
The jacket allowed him to do things he would never normally do. Like going to a new pub, drinking until his tongue was loose, and picking up a drop-dead gorgeous bloke with red hair that he was sure would never have looked his way otherwise. Grabbing him by the hair -- Merlin, that beautiful hair -- and fucking his mouth he would blame more on the liquor, because the jacket was unlikely to inspire a sudden hair fetish.
So, when he woke up the next morning, the taste of old carpet in his mouth, his head aching, and something hot and hard poking against his arse, he was sure that his beautiful pub stranger would leave. Nobody wanted to stick around when nervous Neville came back the next morning.
It wasn't until the man -- Bill, he was called -- not only stuck around, but woke up just as hungry for him the next morning, even after Neville accidentally elbowed him in the stomach, kicked him in the shin, and nearly tore out a chunk of his hair just trying to get out of bed, that he realised. Bill didn't go home with a jacket, he went home with the man wearing it.
And that made all the difference.
Title: The Jacket
Rating: R
Prompt: #19, "Leather"
Date: 03/24/07
Summary: It was really just a jacket.
Pairing: NL/BW
Word Count: 298
Notes: Written for eeyore9990 who requested Billville with a hair fetish. I tried my best, hon!
It was really just a jacket. Soft black leather, a sturdy zipper that still sounded brand new every time he zipped it up, and a couple of pockets at the sides. Millions of other people were bound to have the very same in their closets. Still, when Neville slipped the jacket on, it was like he became this new, far more confident person. Gone was the boy-at-heart that everybody knew and liked to laugh at, and in his place was a man; in control, indestructible, and in high demand.
The jacket allowed him to do things he would never normally do. Like going to a new pub, drinking until his tongue was loose, and picking up a drop-dead gorgeous bloke with red hair that he was sure would never have looked his way otherwise. Grabbing him by the hair -- Merlin, that beautiful hair -- and fucking his mouth he would blame more on the liquor, because the jacket was unlikely to inspire a sudden hair fetish.
So, when he woke up the next morning, the taste of old carpet in his mouth, his head aching, and something hot and hard poking against his arse, he was sure that his beautiful pub stranger would leave. Nobody wanted to stick around when nervous Neville came back the next morning.
It wasn't until the man -- Bill, he was called -- not only stuck around, but woke up just as hungry for him the next morning, even after Neville accidentally elbowed him in the stomach, kicked him in the shin, and nearly tore out a chunk of his hair just trying to get out of bed, that he realised. Bill didn't go home with a jacket, he went home with the man wearing it.
And that made all the difference.