Prompt Post No. 1
Welcome to Round One of the Sirens Kink Meme.
Format of Prompts
Format of Prompts
- Alphabetize pairings/threesomes/moresomes. (e.g. Ashley/Rachid/Stuart)
- Put [RPF] before RPF prompts. (e.g. [RPF] Rhys/Richard)
- For crossover prompts: "[Crossover], Sirens Character(s)/Other Character(s), [Fandom]" (e.g. [Crossover], Ashley/Jon Snow, [Game of Thrones])
- No "!" in ( Read more... )
The pretense is that Ashley's flat can't possibly be lived in until his new and probably only friend has been there. Really, he just wants to see the place.
The door is unlocked, and in retrospect, he realizes that he should have known what that meant, the information he's gathered on the man these past eleven months, but somehow it doesn't hit him until he gets inside and there they are, in the living room this time, Ash and two guys.
They're not even the same two guys, Stuart thinks absently. Although, really, why would they be? One of them is huge and tanned, with big broad hands that hold Ash down, bent forward over the back of the couch. The other one... well, Stuart can't see much of the other one, but that's only because his face appears to be buried in Ashley's pale Scottish arse.
Ashley's face is closed up tight, and he's making these funny little breathless hitching noises that are actually starting to sort of affect Stuart on a primal level, when suddenly he spots Stuart and gasps. "Do you not know how to knock?" he roars.
Stuart grins awkwardly and waves, already tripping over himself to leave by the time the other lads spot him. "Sorry, sorry. My bad, really," he offers. "Nice place, though."
"Prick," he hears Ashley mutter, and then something that sounds suspiciously like, "Go on, get on with it." But by the time the door is closed, it's turned into a low, desperate moan that echoes through the wood.
Stuart escapes, and swears that this is not going to happen again.
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This one's an "up-horny-down" one, and he doesn't so much see it as... well.
So the jumper had actually jumped, which was a totally once-in-a-blue-moon thing. Statistically, anyone staging something that public and dramatic was highly unlikely to actually want to go through with it, but this one had. They'd done the best they could to scrape him back together, but he bled his last all over their hands. Ashley had giggled all through breakfast, and not-so-surreptitiously pulled his phone out of his pocket as they parted ways.
But that had been hours ago, and now Stuart's well out of "horny" and on the way to being seriously down, and it feels like he's entitled to a little company. Maxine is AWOL, probably being a responsible human being somewhere and contributing to society, so he rings Ash, who is almost guaranteed to be doing neither.
He picks up on the fourth ring, sounding strange. "Hello, yeah."
"It's me." Stuart sprawls out on his couch, staring at the ceiling. "Have you hit down, yet?"
"Me? No, no..." What is that? He sounds sort of... rough. Then he laughs. "Actually, for a while, yeah, but now I'm back to up. Way... up."
Then there's an indistinct murmur on the other end from a distinctly non-Ashley voice, and Ashley says, "Oh," into the phone, very quietly, and it clicks.
"Sorry, are you having sex?" Stuart asks.
"What? No, of course not," Ashley says, just as the bedsprings creak. He hesitates. "A little."
"You're having sex," Stuart repeats flatly. "Right now. On the phone with me."
Ashley chuckles hoarsely. "Mmm. I thought you might be..."
Stuart starts, sits bolt upright. "What, up for a foursome?"
"Only a threesome, today, I've only the one." The bed creaks again, and there's that voice, and Ashley lets out a tiny sigh. "And... no, you great git, I thought you might be suicidal. I was being a friend."
"Yeah." Stuart laughs bitterly. "Some friend."
"Hey..." The creaking is starting to develop a rhythm, and Ashley's voice is getting shaky. "Maybe this can help you on your way back to horny."
Stuart hangs up and lies back down, drumming his fingers on his stomach, and thinks, down, down, down. But what really sucks is, Ash is right.
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