Crush with Eyeliner
Title : Crush with Eyeliner
Author : mysteriousaliwz
Rating : PG 15
Fandom : Primeval
Pairing : Ryan/Stephen
Warning : Explicit Language. Sporfle Factor: Fairly High, judging by Fred's reaction when she beta'd it - Beverage Warnings apply ;)
Author Notes : More from the Sanctuary! verse, sequel to Sanctuary and Kink. Thankfully the Primeval fandom seems blessedly free from bad!fic, let's hope it stays that way :)
Thanks to : fredbassett for her beta services.
Apologies in advance to the following :
REM fans (I love their songs, the title of that one was was too good a fit with the fic to pass up);
the person whose fic I quoted - your fic may have made my brain bleed, but a lot of people seemed to like it;
Britney Spears;
those on my flist who write bandom;
anyone who's ever written a tender love scene in a slash fic without turning it into a smushfest;
actually, better make it anyone who's ever written a fanfic.
I'm sorry. Please don't hit me.
Rescued from certain oblivion, our protagonists are taken to a place of refuge in the parallel dimension of fanfic. They call it: The Sanctuary.
Crush with Eyeliner
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Hello, Management?"
"Yes, Ryan, what can we do for ... is that eyeliner?"
"Yes, and could you tell me how I can get the sodding stuff off? Camouflage face paint is bad enough, but at least that comes off with soap and water."
"Eye-makeup remover and cotton wool balls, top right hand pocket of your tac vest."
"Thanks."
Ryan extracted the small bottle from his tac vest, tipped some of the liquid onto the cotton wool and wiped at his eyes.
"Great, that seems to be doing the trick."
"Where's Stephen?"
Ryan sighed heavily.
"He's gone and shut himself away in the snooker room and won't come out until I've got this stuff off. He says he's got no objection to blokes in eyeliner, but he says on me it looks downright unsettling."
"I can see what he means. But isn't that a bit of an overreaction? Granted, it looks a bit ...well ..."
"Nah, it's not so much the eyeliner as such - it was just the last straw after all the other stuff. You mean you haven't seen what's been going on here?"
"No, I've only just this minute logged on as duty manager. What's up?"
Ryan snorted.
"Where do I start? I think it probably began with him fluttering his eyelashes at me and looking coy. I mean, I know he's a bit of a flirt, but he doesn't usually do ..." Ryan flailed his hands about, searching for the right word " ... winsome. His eyelashes are damn sexy, but he doesn't need to do anything with them, they're just there. And then he looked at me."
"Looked at you?"
"Yup. Only it was more sort of gazing into my eyes with the daftest dopey expression on his face. And I could feel myself doing the same. It was horrible. But the worst bit was the crying. He went on about how traumatised he'd been when he'd found out about me in the Permian and that thing you lot don't like to talk about, and he ended up clinging on to me and weeping on my shoulder. Got my t-shirt all soggy."
"That sounds most unlike him."
"Yeah."
Ryan looked uncomfortable.
"And the weird thing was, I was sobbing my heart out as well. It wouldn't have been so bad if it had even washed the eyeliner off, but it just smudged it. You're laughing, aren't you?"
"No, no, no, do carry on."
"And then he went on about what a wonderful boyfriend I was and how safe he felt with me. And I was cuddling him and sort of ... cooing at him. And using the word 'like' about three times every sentence. If you can call them sentences, because we were both talking for ages without stopping to breathe. It was bizarre. I'm just thankful I have a decent lung capacity or I might well have passed out due to lack of oxygen. What is it with that?"
"Ah, I think I know what that is."
"What?"
"Lack of punctuation. I think we have a bad!fic situation."
"Good god! Is it going to go on for much longer? Because I don't know how much more I can take of this. I mean, I'm quite happy to take my kit off and have sex in front of you lot, but this? This is bleedin' embarrassing. I'm a thirty-five-year-old bloke, not some love-struck teenage girl. If any of my mates in the regiment heard about it I'd never live it down."
"This happens sometimes. I'll see if I can track down who the author is. Can I put you on hold, I'll just be a moment?"
"OK."
"Management?"
"Yes?"
"Can you lose the muzak? I'm not that big a fan of the Hammond organ version of Vivaldi's 'Four Seasons'."
"Sorry, it went on automatically. I'll turn it off."
"Thank you."
Several minutes passed. Ryan got out a second cotton-wool ball and gave his eyelids another scrub, inspecting the cotton-wool afterwards for any residue.
"Ok, I've been over to her LJ and had a look - from what I can decipher among all the textspeak and numbers, the Primeval fandom was just a fleeting interest and she's moved on to some guys in a band. Lots of photos of pretty boys wearing black. And she's defriended all the Primeval communities, so I think you're probably safe."
Ryan looked immensely relieved.
"Thank god for that."
"Apologies for the inconvenience. How about if I run you up a nice little Porn Without Plot to make up for it? It's not long till Comment!Porn Sunday, so that should keep you going till then."
"Brilliant! I'd better let Hart know the good news."
He hurried through the maze of corridors.
"So, how's that piercing thing working out for you?"
Ryan beamed.
"Fantastic, thanks! He was a bit grumpy to begin with, but now they've healed it's really added an extra element to the sex. He loves it. And the cable ties thing was a real bonus - I didn't mind being tied up with them, but we've found that when we tie him up he really gets off on it, the kinky bastard."
"Oh good."
Finally he came to the door of the snooker room and hammered on it.
"Stephen? You still in there?"
"Yes" replied a wary voice. "Is the eyeliner gone?"
"It is. Are you going to come out now?"
"That depends. Are you going to try to hold my hand again?"
"Nope."
"Recite Britney Spears lyrics at me?"
"Nope."
"Offer to protect me from all the bad things in the world and keep me safe for always?"
"No."
"Tell me how much you love my 'quivering little boy-hole'*?"
Ryan winced.
"Nope. But I could offer to fuck you up the arse so hard you can't sit down for a week?" he suggested.
The door swung open and crashed against the wall. Stephen emerged, a huge grin on his face.
"Back to normal then, Ryan?"
"Too right, Hart. Get your arse into that bed pronto. Gun oil is in the usual place."
Ryan swiped at Stephen's backside as he passed, and Stephen leered back at him.
Ryan looked up and gave the thumbs-up sign.
"Cheers!"
"You're welcome."
Normal service had been resumed.
~~~~~~~~~~~
*Footnote:
'quivering little boy-hole' is an actual quote from a fic I once read and was used in all seriousness in the original context. I won't mention the fic, fandom, pairing or author, to protect the innocent guilty. Come on, I may be perverted, but even my brain couldn't come up with something like that.
I'll get the bleach.
Author : mysteriousaliwz
Rating : PG 15
Fandom : Primeval
Pairing : Ryan/Stephen
Warning : Explicit Language. Sporfle Factor: Fairly High, judging by Fred's reaction when she beta'd it - Beverage Warnings apply ;)
Author Notes : More from the Sanctuary! verse, sequel to Sanctuary and Kink. Thankfully the Primeval fandom seems blessedly free from bad!fic, let's hope it stays that way :)
Thanks to : fredbassett for her beta services.
Apologies in advance to the following :
REM fans (I love their songs, the title of that one was was too good a fit with the fic to pass up);
the person whose fic I quoted - your fic may have made my brain bleed, but a lot of people seemed to like it;
Britney Spears;
those on my flist who write bandom;
anyone who's ever written a tender love scene in a slash fic without turning it into a smushfest;
actually, better make it anyone who's ever written a fanfic.
I'm sorry. Please don't hit me.
Rescued from certain oblivion, our protagonists are taken to a place of refuge in the parallel dimension of fanfic. They call it: The Sanctuary.
Crush with Eyeliner
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Hello, Management?"
"Yes, Ryan, what can we do for ... is that eyeliner?"
"Yes, and could you tell me how I can get the sodding stuff off? Camouflage face paint is bad enough, but at least that comes off with soap and water."
"Eye-makeup remover and cotton wool balls, top right hand pocket of your tac vest."
"Thanks."
Ryan extracted the small bottle from his tac vest, tipped some of the liquid onto the cotton wool and wiped at his eyes.
"Great, that seems to be doing the trick."
"Where's Stephen?"
Ryan sighed heavily.
"He's gone and shut himself away in the snooker room and won't come out until I've got this stuff off. He says he's got no objection to blokes in eyeliner, but he says on me it looks downright unsettling."
"I can see what he means. But isn't that a bit of an overreaction? Granted, it looks a bit ...well ..."
"Nah, it's not so much the eyeliner as such - it was just the last straw after all the other stuff. You mean you haven't seen what's been going on here?"
"No, I've only just this minute logged on as duty manager. What's up?"
Ryan snorted.
"Where do I start? I think it probably began with him fluttering his eyelashes at me and looking coy. I mean, I know he's a bit of a flirt, but he doesn't usually do ..." Ryan flailed his hands about, searching for the right word " ... winsome. His eyelashes are damn sexy, but he doesn't need to do anything with them, they're just there. And then he looked at me."
"Looked at you?"
"Yup. Only it was more sort of gazing into my eyes with the daftest dopey expression on his face. And I could feel myself doing the same. It was horrible. But the worst bit was the crying. He went on about how traumatised he'd been when he'd found out about me in the Permian and that thing you lot don't like to talk about, and he ended up clinging on to me and weeping on my shoulder. Got my t-shirt all soggy."
"That sounds most unlike him."
"Yeah."
Ryan looked uncomfortable.
"And the weird thing was, I was sobbing my heart out as well. It wouldn't have been so bad if it had even washed the eyeliner off, but it just smudged it. You're laughing, aren't you?"
"No, no, no, do carry on."
"And then he went on about what a wonderful boyfriend I was and how safe he felt with me. And I was cuddling him and sort of ... cooing at him. And using the word 'like' about three times every sentence. If you can call them sentences, because we were both talking for ages without stopping to breathe. It was bizarre. I'm just thankful I have a decent lung capacity or I might well have passed out due to lack of oxygen. What is it with that?"
"Ah, I think I know what that is."
"What?"
"Lack of punctuation. I think we have a bad!fic situation."
"Good god! Is it going to go on for much longer? Because I don't know how much more I can take of this. I mean, I'm quite happy to take my kit off and have sex in front of you lot, but this? This is bleedin' embarrassing. I'm a thirty-five-year-old bloke, not some love-struck teenage girl. If any of my mates in the regiment heard about it I'd never live it down."
"This happens sometimes. I'll see if I can track down who the author is. Can I put you on hold, I'll just be a moment?"
"OK."
"Management?"
"Yes?"
"Can you lose the muzak? I'm not that big a fan of the Hammond organ version of Vivaldi's 'Four Seasons'."
"Sorry, it went on automatically. I'll turn it off."
"Thank you."
Several minutes passed. Ryan got out a second cotton-wool ball and gave his eyelids another scrub, inspecting the cotton-wool afterwards for any residue.
"Ok, I've been over to her LJ and had a look - from what I can decipher among all the textspeak and numbers, the Primeval fandom was just a fleeting interest and she's moved on to some guys in a band. Lots of photos of pretty boys wearing black. And she's defriended all the Primeval communities, so I think you're probably safe."
Ryan looked immensely relieved.
"Thank god for that."
"Apologies for the inconvenience. How about if I run you up a nice little Porn Without Plot to make up for it? It's not long till Comment!Porn Sunday, so that should keep you going till then."
"Brilliant! I'd better let Hart know the good news."
He hurried through the maze of corridors.
"So, how's that piercing thing working out for you?"
Ryan beamed.
"Fantastic, thanks! He was a bit grumpy to begin with, but now they've healed it's really added an extra element to the sex. He loves it. And the cable ties thing was a real bonus - I didn't mind being tied up with them, but we've found that when we tie him up he really gets off on it, the kinky bastard."
"Oh good."
Finally he came to the door of the snooker room and hammered on it.
"Stephen? You still in there?"
"Yes" replied a wary voice. "Is the eyeliner gone?"
"It is. Are you going to come out now?"
"That depends. Are you going to try to hold my hand again?"
"Nope."
"Recite Britney Spears lyrics at me?"
"Nope."
"Offer to protect me from all the bad things in the world and keep me safe for always?"
"No."
"Tell me how much you love my 'quivering little boy-hole'*?"
Ryan winced.
"Nope. But I could offer to fuck you up the arse so hard you can't sit down for a week?" he suggested.
The door swung open and crashed against the wall. Stephen emerged, a huge grin on his face.
"Back to normal then, Ryan?"
"Too right, Hart. Get your arse into that bed pronto. Gun oil is in the usual place."
Ryan swiped at Stephen's backside as he passed, and Stephen leered back at him.
Ryan looked up and gave the thumbs-up sign.
"Cheers!"
"You're welcome."
Normal service had been resumed.
~~~~~~~~~~~
*Footnote:
'quivering little boy-hole' is an actual quote from a fic I once read and was used in all seriousness in the original context. I won't mention the fic, fandom, pairing or author, to protect the innocent guilty. Come on, I may be perverted, but even my brain couldn't come up with something like that.
I'll get the bleach.