Drabble Fic: "Holes," Dead Like Me, George/Rube
Written for michellek for a Secret Santa Christmas drabble challenge:
Holes
Fandom: "Dead Like Me"
Pairing (if any): George/Rube
Rating: Hard R (language, sexual situations)
Disclaimer: Not my toys, else we'd be having a Season 3 G/R luuurve-fest.
Summary: This will all end badly. It's what he does.
Word Count: 356
Sometimes Rube thinks that when they gave him his undead body they put him together wrong.
Oh, he can still do everything he did when he was alive. That can have its bad side - last week there had obviously been something wrong with the Banana Bonanza, and he’d logged significant time in the men’s room of Der fucking Waffle Haus, wishing to die all over again. But there are definite good points.
She straddles him, knees hugging his thighs, and stretches her whole body like a cat.
If he had to describe it, he’d call it a hole - an emptiness somewhere inside him that can’t quite be filled and just won’t go away. The first time he felt it he was staring down at the poor dead schmuck with the bullet in his chest, and he’d figured it was a side-effect, a memory of the bullet’s physical hole. He’d assumed it would disappear with time; undead bodies don’t really stay damaged for long.
“You’re thinking again.” Soft kisses flutter down his jaw line. “You’re not supposed to do that during sex, you know.”
In time, he just got used to the feeling. Now he fills the hole with paperwork. And if the old emptiness starts to gnaw at him again when one of his reapers moves on, well, there’s always another post-it to write.
“I suppose I’ll have to distract you.” She places his palm over her breast, and reflexively he runs his thumb over the peaked nipple. She moans, such a pretty little sound, and oh yes, now he’s getting hard against the rocking of her hips.
Oh, Georgia. It’s wrong, it’s transient and it will all end badly, he knows. She’ll leave him one way or another - if she doesn’t fill her quota and move on, he’ll be sure to hurt her just enough to hasten the inevitable. It’s what he does.
She rides him, hard like her heart is breaking. “God, please, Rube, please be here with me now.”
Rube ponders that maybe George has her own defect, her own emptiness to fill. Then he stops thinking and joins her in the escape.
Holes
Fandom: "Dead Like Me"
Pairing (if any): George/Rube
Rating: Hard R (language, sexual situations)
Disclaimer: Not my toys, else we'd be having a Season 3 G/R luuurve-fest.
Summary: This will all end badly. It's what he does.
Word Count: 356
Sometimes Rube thinks that when they gave him his undead body they put him together wrong.
Oh, he can still do everything he did when he was alive. That can have its bad side - last week there had obviously been something wrong with the Banana Bonanza, and he’d logged significant time in the men’s room of Der fucking Waffle Haus, wishing to die all over again. But there are definite good points.
She straddles him, knees hugging his thighs, and stretches her whole body like a cat.
If he had to describe it, he’d call it a hole - an emptiness somewhere inside him that can’t quite be filled and just won’t go away. The first time he felt it he was staring down at the poor dead schmuck with the bullet in his chest, and he’d figured it was a side-effect, a memory of the bullet’s physical hole. He’d assumed it would disappear with time; undead bodies don’t really stay damaged for long.
“You’re thinking again.” Soft kisses flutter down his jaw line. “You’re not supposed to do that during sex, you know.”
In time, he just got used to the feeling. Now he fills the hole with paperwork. And if the old emptiness starts to gnaw at him again when one of his reapers moves on, well, there’s always another post-it to write.
“I suppose I’ll have to distract you.” She places his palm over her breast, and reflexively he runs his thumb over the peaked nipple. She moans, such a pretty little sound, and oh yes, now he’s getting hard against the rocking of her hips.
Oh, Georgia. It’s wrong, it’s transient and it will all end badly, he knows. She’ll leave him one way or another - if she doesn’t fill her quota and move on, he’ll be sure to hurt her just enough to hasten the inevitable. It’s what he does.
She rides him, hard like her heart is breaking. “God, please, Rube, please be here with me now.”
Rube ponders that maybe George has her own defect, her own emptiness to fill. Then he stops thinking and joins her in the escape.