o4-o1. The Glass Rose Garden (Gene/Sergei)
Title: The Glass Rose Garden.
Pairing: Gene/Sergei.
Rating: PG-13 for language and any innuendos. (I promise, folksies, you'll get your smut when I'm home. XD!)
"What is it?" That was a redundant question, but Sergei didn't really think about it. Instead, he was thinking of the very large key that Gene was holding out to him. The key appeared to be six inches in length, with a rustic color to it. The top of the key, which was being held in Gene's hand tightly, was shaped like a heart. Except part of the top was broken.
"It's a key, babe." Gene answered, lifting an eyebrow at him in an odd way. He stiffened a little, and held the key out to him impatiently. The top half of it was growing uncomfortably warm in his hand, despite the slight chill in the room. "Come on, take it. I have to get the rest of this junk outta here." He snorted at him.
They had found an older house in the hillbilly town, Heartencawl, and the condition of their owning it was that they had to clean it out. Apparently, it had been an old antique store. Lucky them. It wasn't too bad of a fixer-upper, really. Just... filled with lots of junk. But the best treasures are always found in a pile of rubbish.
Or so Sergei believed. He took the key cautiously, frowning at the way it warmed instantly in his hand, and snorted a little. He eyed the key, a curious gleam to his eye, and then he pocketed it. "Maybe it's a key for the house." He explained to Gene, who grunted at him while attempting to move a large box of old jewelry boxes. Sergei saw something gleaming from inside the box, and grabbed his arm. "Baby, wait."
Gene looked at him, exasperated. "What?" He set the box down, wincing a little at the sore muscles screaming at him in protest. He lifted an eyebrow at his boyfriend, who had dropped down to his knees and was rooting through the box, as if the Holy Grail was sitting there, waiting.
Sergei sat back on his shins once he found the shiny object that had glinted at him so tantalizingly, and eyed it, turning it in his hands. It was... a rose. A glass rose, to be exact. "How... weird!" Sergei laughed softly, and spun the rose in his fingers, grinning. He didn't see the thorns on the gold-spun stem, and before Gene could warn him, he pricked his finger. "Shit!" The rose fell out of his hands, and shattered.
Frowning a little, Sergei got up, sucking on his finger. "Fuckin' rose." He muttered, indignant. Gene snorted a little at him, amused, and took the digit in his mouth, sucking the blood away slowly. Sergei melted and pulled his hand back, flushed. "That was mean." He mumbled. Gene shrugged at him.
"Go get a broom so I can clean this up." The older wolf ordered, nudging Sergei into action. Sergei turned to go do just that, when he noticed something. He looked around slowly, lifting an eyebrow and letting his eyes go wide after a minute. Hearing the soft sigh from Sergei, Gene looked up, and noticed what Sergei had noticed as well. "Holy shit."
Scattered through the room they were in, though in the most unobvious places, were bouquets of the very same glass-blown roses that Sergei had just broke. They were arranged in bouquets of twos, sixes, and dozens in odd little sections of the room. "But..." Sergei looked confused. "The one I found... was all alone."
"... Maybe the old broad kicked the bucket before she could finish it." Gene shrugged at him, and started out of the living room to get a broom. Sergei frowned a little after Gene, and looked around again. Feeling chilled, he followed after Gene quickly.
His reflection glinted at him in all of the glass petals as he passed, except in one lone rose sitting on the side near the door, that had gone unnoticed.
Pairing: Gene/Sergei.
Rating: PG-13 for language and any innuendos. (I promise, folksies, you'll get your smut when I'm home. XD!)
"What is it?" That was a redundant question, but Sergei didn't really think about it. Instead, he was thinking of the very large key that Gene was holding out to him. The key appeared to be six inches in length, with a rustic color to it. The top of the key, which was being held in Gene's hand tightly, was shaped like a heart. Except part of the top was broken.
"It's a key, babe." Gene answered, lifting an eyebrow at him in an odd way. He stiffened a little, and held the key out to him impatiently. The top half of it was growing uncomfortably warm in his hand, despite the slight chill in the room. "Come on, take it. I have to get the rest of this junk outta here." He snorted at him.
They had found an older house in the hillbilly town, Heartencawl, and the condition of their owning it was that they had to clean it out. Apparently, it had been an old antique store. Lucky them. It wasn't too bad of a fixer-upper, really. Just... filled with lots of junk. But the best treasures are always found in a pile of rubbish.
Or so Sergei believed. He took the key cautiously, frowning at the way it warmed instantly in his hand, and snorted a little. He eyed the key, a curious gleam to his eye, and then he pocketed it. "Maybe it's a key for the house." He explained to Gene, who grunted at him while attempting to move a large box of old jewelry boxes. Sergei saw something gleaming from inside the box, and grabbed his arm. "Baby, wait."
Gene looked at him, exasperated. "What?" He set the box down, wincing a little at the sore muscles screaming at him in protest. He lifted an eyebrow at his boyfriend, who had dropped down to his knees and was rooting through the box, as if the Holy Grail was sitting there, waiting.
Sergei sat back on his shins once he found the shiny object that had glinted at him so tantalizingly, and eyed it, turning it in his hands. It was... a rose. A glass rose, to be exact. "How... weird!" Sergei laughed softly, and spun the rose in his fingers, grinning. He didn't see the thorns on the gold-spun stem, and before Gene could warn him, he pricked his finger. "Shit!" The rose fell out of his hands, and shattered.
Frowning a little, Sergei got up, sucking on his finger. "Fuckin' rose." He muttered, indignant. Gene snorted a little at him, amused, and took the digit in his mouth, sucking the blood away slowly. Sergei melted and pulled his hand back, flushed. "That was mean." He mumbled. Gene shrugged at him.
"Go get a broom so I can clean this up." The older wolf ordered, nudging Sergei into action. Sergei turned to go do just that, when he noticed something. He looked around slowly, lifting an eyebrow and letting his eyes go wide after a minute. Hearing the soft sigh from Sergei, Gene looked up, and noticed what Sergei had noticed as well. "Holy shit."
Scattered through the room they were in, though in the most unobvious places, were bouquets of the very same glass-blown roses that Sergei had just broke. They were arranged in bouquets of twos, sixes, and dozens in odd little sections of the room. "But..." Sergei looked confused. "The one I found... was all alone."
"... Maybe the old broad kicked the bucket before she could finish it." Gene shrugged at him, and started out of the living room to get a broom. Sergei frowned a little after Gene, and looked around again. Feeling chilled, he followed after Gene quickly.
His reflection glinted at him in all of the glass petals as he passed, except in one lone rose sitting on the side near the door, that had gone unnoticed.