Fic: Christmas ficlets, batch 1, Leverage, F1 RPS
Fic title: "Eliot Spencer's minimalistic Christmas"
Author name: the_milky_way
Genre: Leverage
Pairing: Eliot, Sophie
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~ 900
Beta: Thank you so much A.
Warnings/Spoilers: very minor spoilers for 3.14
Disclaimer: This story is fictional (not real, didn't happen). Not true in any way. I don't own anything. Characters belong to the TNT
Notes: This is for spiritcrow, who prompted me with. Leverage, Eliot/Sophie - Parker has Hardison, Nate is spending Christmas with Maggie, for old time's sake...and who's left with no family to celebrate with? Yep, those two.
Eliot grunts when someone’s pushed into his back. The bar is crowded, even for a day like this; it’s a lot of people. There is a game on but Eliot has no idea what it is or who is playing. He doesn’t really care anyway.
It’s not like he hates Christmas or doesn’t like getting presents. It’s more like, he has no idea how to celebrate it. There is no family to go back to and even if there were, he’s not going to but them in danger.
So what if he’s sitting in a bar on Christmas and watches people being either depressed for being alone or celebrating with loved ones. His life is just like this. He hasn’t minded in a while, for years even. Sometimes he even forgot the dates, too busy to fight for his life, too busy to not let himself get caught.
Only now it’s a little different. There were no plans, of course, there weren’t but seeing the way they spent their days together he might have thought this day would happen the same way. Only, apparently he’d been wrong.
Parker has Hardison, however that works. They are somewhere in the city, doing things he doesn’t really want to think about. They are too sweet and too strange most of the times; he doesn’t need to spend his off time thinking about how they spend theirs. There are information he doesn’t need and doesn’t want to have.
Nate is… well Nate decided to relive history because it’s Christmas. He’s not looking forward to the aftermath of this idea. But then, Nate’s a grown man and Eliot is not his babysitter.
Eliot has no idea where Sophie is or what she’s doing during the holidays. She’d just grabbed her bag, had said Happy Holidays and left a rather stunned Nate behind. All that after they’d presented the team their gifts.
Eliot’s maybe thinking about going back soon to look at the sword some more. But not yet, he doesn’t want to be too obvious in case anyone is home. He’s not embarrassed but some things are just meant to be private.
The bourbon swirls in the glass when he moves it, looks golden but a little too dark. The good one’s out, since it is Christmas. Of course.
It’s not like he’s sad that he’s alone. He likes being alone. Eliot doesn’t do sad anyway. And he should have learned by now not to have expectations.
“This seat taken?”
Eliot wants to snap; wants to tell whoever it is that uses that kind of lame pick up line to fuck off when the voice registers.
“Thought you’d be over the Pont already.”
“Thought so, too. But then I felt rather childish leaving this way just because certain people don’t know how to treat a lady. Home’s the best place on days like this.”
Eliot smiles a little. He knows what she isn’t saying and there is not need to ask anyway. It’s not his problem. The fact that Sophie is here though, well he if he’d do sad this would make it better.
“Seat’s free.”
Sophie smiles, and it’s actually convincing. She slides onto the stool, orders something Eliot thought she’d never touch.
Their glasses are half full when Sophie gets up again.
“Come on.”
Eliot’s not asking and follows her upstairs. It’s a day of surprises so he guesses they are not done yet. It’s only when Sophie opens the fridge that he raises his eyebrow and leans against the counter.
“Stop scowling Eliot. It’s just some turkey sandwiches. Parker made them and they are not poisoned. I already had one this morning.”
“I’m not sure that this is reassuring. You have a stomach made of steal Soph.” He grumbles but settles down anyway.
“Shut it, Eliot and eat up.” Sophie is smiling.
“You knew I’d be there.” It’s not a question but he has to say it anyway. It’s been a long time that he has been predictable and he wonders if he’s going easy on his old days or if it’s just the fact that he suddenly is letting people close again.
“Well, it’s Christmas, a social day. You, Eliot Spencer, are the epitome of unsocial. Or you pretend to be because you actually do good things left and right and try hard to hide the fact that you care. You love to people-watch and alcohol. The bar. This place is safe; people know where to find you when things should blow up. Of course, I know where to find you,”
She says it with so much conviction that Eliot suddenly knows she’s not back only because of Nate’s behaviour.
“I…”
“You’re welcome.”
And he kind of loves her for not letting him say it.
It’s more than he’s had in he last twenty years. It's not too much, just the amount of social and interaction he can deal with.
He’s not alone, there is food and he even allows Sophie to turn the TV on. It’s not like he doesn’t like Christmas, it’s just that he’s only learning again how to celebrate it.
***
Fic title: "That was not the plan"
Author name: the_milky_way
Genre: F1 RPS
Pairing: Jenson Button/Mark Webber
Rating: R
Word Count: ~ 500
Beta: Thank you so much A.
Disclaimer: This story is fictional (not real, didn't happen). Not true in any way. I don't own anything.
Notes: This is for sandrine who wanted Jenson/Mark, keeping score.
The room’s hot, air sticky and sweet. The sun’s been gone for a while now and the parties are still raging through the hotel. The bottles are scattered on the floor, empty, half full, still unopened.
The balcony door is open; sounds form the hotel, the pool, the track filter through but don’t really make it into the room or to his ears. All he hears are his curses, Mark’s chuckles and demands, and then his own sigh of submission.
This is not like him. Not at all but he can’t help to let himself have it.
Clothes are strewn everywhere, carelessly. It’s chaos and mirrors his life perfectly right now.
Jenson never thought they’d end up here, like this.
Not them.
But here they are, twisted in sheets that are too cool on naked skin. Breaths harsh, moans clear in the air that’s moving around them. He feels high, floating on endorphins and alcohol. His mind is clear though and he knows he’s addicted.
Has been since this started, since Mark upped the staked and turned everything into more than just a simple game. Now it’s more than both of them can deal with but they don’t stop. They can’t.
Jenson can’t. He’s not sure about Mark, though.
It’s not like they talk about it. They just do. Hide and don’t stop.
***
It was just meant as a game, a challenge to keep the racing days interesting.
Keeping score of the poles, the points, the fastest laps, most interviews, most annoying team-mate… well, whatever they could come up with. That’s what they always do each year. This year though turned out to be different. This was not the plan though.
Why it happened, Jenson doesn’t know but he thinks it’s not him at all but Mark trying to escape. Jenson thinks he’s figured it out but it’s not like he can go and ask Mark about it all. It’s bad enough that Jenson allows things to go on like they are; he doesn’t need to end up with a broken jaw or anything similar to it.
And well, the sex is awesome.
Jenson’s amazed that his mouth-brain connection still works; most of its other functions are already offline.
“That’s not what I meant when I said we should keep score.”
Mark stops sucking marks into Jenson’s skin and looks up. The grin is sheepish but there is fire in his eyes. Jenson curses himself for making him stop.
“You complaining?”
“Not really.”
Mark nods and goes back to licking every inch of Jenson’s skin. There are groans, moans and harsh breathes. The air is hot, stale, kind of reeks but Jenson doesn’t mind. It’s the last night of the season and they both have enough reasons to just let loose and forget about the world for a while.
And that’s what he does when he closes his eyes and lets Mark explore and ravish.
What exactly they were keeping score of? Jenson doesn’t even know anymore.
Author name: the_milky_way
Genre: Leverage
Pairing: Eliot, Sophie
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~ 900
Beta: Thank you so much A.
Warnings/Spoilers: very minor spoilers for 3.14
Disclaimer: This story is fictional (not real, didn't happen). Not true in any way. I don't own anything. Characters belong to the TNT
Notes: This is for spiritcrow, who prompted me with. Leverage, Eliot/Sophie - Parker has Hardison, Nate is spending Christmas with Maggie, for old time's sake...and who's left with no family to celebrate with? Yep, those two.
Eliot grunts when someone’s pushed into his back. The bar is crowded, even for a day like this; it’s a lot of people. There is a game on but Eliot has no idea what it is or who is playing. He doesn’t really care anyway.
It’s not like he hates Christmas or doesn’t like getting presents. It’s more like, he has no idea how to celebrate it. There is no family to go back to and even if there were, he’s not going to but them in danger.
So what if he’s sitting in a bar on Christmas and watches people being either depressed for being alone or celebrating with loved ones. His life is just like this. He hasn’t minded in a while, for years even. Sometimes he even forgot the dates, too busy to fight for his life, too busy to not let himself get caught.
Only now it’s a little different. There were no plans, of course, there weren’t but seeing the way they spent their days together he might have thought this day would happen the same way. Only, apparently he’d been wrong.
Parker has Hardison, however that works. They are somewhere in the city, doing things he doesn’t really want to think about. They are too sweet and too strange most of the times; he doesn’t need to spend his off time thinking about how they spend theirs. There are information he doesn’t need and doesn’t want to have.
Nate is… well Nate decided to relive history because it’s Christmas. He’s not looking forward to the aftermath of this idea. But then, Nate’s a grown man and Eliot is not his babysitter.
Eliot has no idea where Sophie is or what she’s doing during the holidays. She’d just grabbed her bag, had said Happy Holidays and left a rather stunned Nate behind. All that after they’d presented the team their gifts.
Eliot’s maybe thinking about going back soon to look at the sword some more. But not yet, he doesn’t want to be too obvious in case anyone is home. He’s not embarrassed but some things are just meant to be private.
The bourbon swirls in the glass when he moves it, looks golden but a little too dark. The good one’s out, since it is Christmas. Of course.
It’s not like he’s sad that he’s alone. He likes being alone. Eliot doesn’t do sad anyway. And he should have learned by now not to have expectations.
“This seat taken?”
Eliot wants to snap; wants to tell whoever it is that uses that kind of lame pick up line to fuck off when the voice registers.
“Thought you’d be over the Pont already.”
“Thought so, too. But then I felt rather childish leaving this way just because certain people don’t know how to treat a lady. Home’s the best place on days like this.”
Eliot smiles a little. He knows what she isn’t saying and there is not need to ask anyway. It’s not his problem. The fact that Sophie is here though, well he if he’d do sad this would make it better.
“Seat’s free.”
Sophie smiles, and it’s actually convincing. She slides onto the stool, orders something Eliot thought she’d never touch.
Their glasses are half full when Sophie gets up again.
“Come on.”
Eliot’s not asking and follows her upstairs. It’s a day of surprises so he guesses they are not done yet. It’s only when Sophie opens the fridge that he raises his eyebrow and leans against the counter.
“Stop scowling Eliot. It’s just some turkey sandwiches. Parker made them and they are not poisoned. I already had one this morning.”
“I’m not sure that this is reassuring. You have a stomach made of steal Soph.” He grumbles but settles down anyway.
“Shut it, Eliot and eat up.” Sophie is smiling.
“You knew I’d be there.” It’s not a question but he has to say it anyway. It’s been a long time that he has been predictable and he wonders if he’s going easy on his old days or if it’s just the fact that he suddenly is letting people close again.
“Well, it’s Christmas, a social day. You, Eliot Spencer, are the epitome of unsocial. Or you pretend to be because you actually do good things left and right and try hard to hide the fact that you care. You love to people-watch and alcohol. The bar. This place is safe; people know where to find you when things should blow up. Of course, I know where to find you,”
She says it with so much conviction that Eliot suddenly knows she’s not back only because of Nate’s behaviour.
“I…”
“You’re welcome.”
And he kind of loves her for not letting him say it.
It’s more than he’s had in he last twenty years. It's not too much, just the amount of social and interaction he can deal with.
He’s not alone, there is food and he even allows Sophie to turn the TV on. It’s not like he doesn’t like Christmas, it’s just that he’s only learning again how to celebrate it.
***
Fic title: "That was not the plan"
Author name: the_milky_way
Genre: F1 RPS
Pairing: Jenson Button/Mark Webber
Rating: R
Word Count: ~ 500
Beta: Thank you so much A.
Disclaimer: This story is fictional (not real, didn't happen). Not true in any way. I don't own anything.
Notes: This is for sandrine who wanted Jenson/Mark, keeping score.
The room’s hot, air sticky and sweet. The sun’s been gone for a while now and the parties are still raging through the hotel. The bottles are scattered on the floor, empty, half full, still unopened.
The balcony door is open; sounds form the hotel, the pool, the track filter through but don’t really make it into the room or to his ears. All he hears are his curses, Mark’s chuckles and demands, and then his own sigh of submission.
This is not like him. Not at all but he can’t help to let himself have it.
Clothes are strewn everywhere, carelessly. It’s chaos and mirrors his life perfectly right now.
Jenson never thought they’d end up here, like this.
Not them.
But here they are, twisted in sheets that are too cool on naked skin. Breaths harsh, moans clear in the air that’s moving around them. He feels high, floating on endorphins and alcohol. His mind is clear though and he knows he’s addicted.
Has been since this started, since Mark upped the staked and turned everything into more than just a simple game. Now it’s more than both of them can deal with but they don’t stop. They can’t.
Jenson can’t. He’s not sure about Mark, though.
It’s not like they talk about it. They just do. Hide and don’t stop.
***
It was just meant as a game, a challenge to keep the racing days interesting.
Keeping score of the poles, the points, the fastest laps, most interviews, most annoying team-mate… well, whatever they could come up with. That’s what they always do each year. This year though turned out to be different. This was not the plan though.
Why it happened, Jenson doesn’t know but he thinks it’s not him at all but Mark trying to escape. Jenson thinks he’s figured it out but it’s not like he can go and ask Mark about it all. It’s bad enough that Jenson allows things to go on like they are; he doesn’t need to end up with a broken jaw or anything similar to it.
And well, the sex is awesome.
Jenson’s amazed that his mouth-brain connection still works; most of its other functions are already offline.
“That’s not what I meant when I said we should keep score.”
Mark stops sucking marks into Jenson’s skin and looks up. The grin is sheepish but there is fire in his eyes. Jenson curses himself for making him stop.
“You complaining?”
“Not really.”
Mark nods and goes back to licking every inch of Jenson’s skin. There are groans, moans and harsh breathes. The air is hot, stale, kind of reeks but Jenson doesn’t mind. It’s the last night of the season and they both have enough reasons to just let loose and forget about the world for a while.
And that’s what he does when he closes his eyes and lets Mark explore and ravish.
What exactly they were keeping score of? Jenson doesn’t even know anymore.