Three Miles Ficlets
Title: let’s pretend we’re young and stupid
Pairing: Miles/Richard
Rating: Hard R (sex)
Words: 576
Disclaimer: Not my boys.
Summary: “Maybe I should get one,” Richard mumbles as his fingers trace the blue symbol etched on the back of Miles’s neck.
A/N: Written for gottalovev at the five acts meme.
It’s way too late in the day to still be lounging around in bed, but it’s also too late for Miles to really give a damn. His eyes are drifting shut when he feels Richard shift beside him.
“Maybe I should get one,” Richard mumbles as his fingers trace the blue symbol etched on the back of Miles’s neck. Miles shivers under Richard’s touch. His cock twitches in his boxers and Miles hopes Richard’s not starting something he doesn’t plan on finishing. He raises himself up on his elbows to peer at Richard over his shoulder.
“You’re what, like two hundred years old? I think you missed your rebellious phase, buddy. If you start staying out all night and getting tattoos now it’s just going to be sad.”
Richard ignores Miles’s snark and leans foreword to trace the shape with his tongue. So definitely planning on finishing then.
“What does it mean?” Richard asks, his breath tickling Miles’s ear.
Miles bites the inside of his lip to keep from grinning.
“You really want to know?”
“Yes.”
“Tough.”
Richard slides his hand around Miles’s waist and down the front of his boxers.
Miles hadn’t been sure Richard would understand the game, but he’s clearly a fast learner.
“I can make you tell me.”
Miles tries to laugh, but Richard is squeezing his cock, his hand working it’s way slowly, maddeningly up and down.
Instead, Miles manages to choke out, “Is that so?”
The bed squeaks as Richard scoots closer to Miles, he quickens the rhythm of his hand pulling a groan out of Miles, dignity be damned. Then he stops moving all together. Miles bucks his hips impatiently, but Richard uses his other hand to hold him still.
“Bastard.”
There’s a twinkle in Richard’s eye. A “you’re-not-going-to-win-and-you-know-it” smug ass twinkle.
“Tell me,” he says again.
Miles closes his eyes. He doesn’t want to tell him, that’s the thing. He doesn’t want to explain and he knows Richard. Richard will want an explanation. Under normal circumstances, Miles would lie but in his current state it’s not really an option.
“Peace,” he mutters reluctantly.
He opens his eyes to find Richard staring down at him curiously.
“Really? That would not have been my first guess.”
“Not peace like make love, not war hippie crap peace. Peace like quiet. Like…silence, I guess. I was eighteen and completely shitfaced at the time. I thought it was ironic.”
Richard looks thoughtful for a moment before running a thumb gently across Miles’s temple.
“I understand.”
He kisses Miles lightly, nips at his bottom lip before sliding down the bed and hooking one finger in the elastic band of Miles’s shorts. He tugs them down easily.
“Thank you for telling me.”
Miles tries to say you’re welcome, but it gets lost in a string of obscenities as Richard takes him in his mouth.
*
“You sure you want to do this?”
Richard nods, his lips set in a firm line as the tattoo artist makes his first mark. Miles watches Richard’s face for a sign of pain, but he barely winces.
“Want me to hold your hand?”
“Maybe later.”
Miles chuckles and sits back in his chair as the artist does his work. An hour later the man passes Richard a mirror.
Together, Richard and Miles examine the mark, a tiny infinity symbol just above Richard’s right shoulder blade. Richard smiles wryly at Miles.
“Irony?”
Miles rolls his eyes and kisses Richard’s temple.
“Yep.”
***
Title: Close Enough
Pairing: Miles/Juliet
Rating: PG-13
Words: 842
Disclaimer: Not mine
Summary: She cries when she sees the mainland. He doesn’t try to comfort her, figures it’s a thing that has to happen.
A/N: Written for valhalla37 at the five acts meme.
“I’m leaving.”
He doesn’t ask questions he already knows the answers to. Instead he watches her watching the horizon and knows she’s thinking of freedom and escape and lots of other maudlin shit. He’s mostly just thinking this could be the last time he’ll ever see her smile. And fuck if that’s not maudlin too.
“I’ll pack my bags.”
“That wasn’t an invitation.”
If he thought she meant it he might bother pretending to be hurt. He grins to himself, already halfway down the dock.
“Whatever.”
*
She cries when she sees the mainland. He doesn’t try to comfort her, figures it’s a thing that has to happen. He walks away, locates a bar and waits for her to find him.
She does.
“Did you order me one of those?”
He motions for the bartender.
“You good now?”
The bartender settles a shot of bourbon in front of her and she runs her thumb across the smooth glass before raising it to her lips. She downs it, no surprise there. Pounds the glass back down on the bar and orders another.
“I think so.”
*
Miles doesn’t wait for her to get over him before he screws her. He doesn’t wait at all in fact. He figures he’s waited long enough (one year, two months, twelve days since the notion came to him.) They fall into a bed in a hotel room two blocks from where the sub dropped them off and fumble with clasps and buttons and pants until it’s just skin on skin, his lips on hers.
They fuck until the sun comes up and then they sleep until noon. He curls against her in his sleep and blames it on reflex when they wake up. She calls him a bad liar, he doesn’t disagree.
Later when people ask, she’ll call this the beginning.
(He’ll say they began in a jungle around the time she pulled a gun on him even though he knows that’s only when it began for him.)
*
Ann Arbor is home.
They don’t say that’s where they’re heading until they’re standing on Daniel’s doorstep, bags in hand.
“Hey guys,” Daniel says slowly, his brow creased as he tries to comprehend the hows and the whys his old time traveling buddies are suddenly right in front of him, freezing their asses off on his porch.
Juliet begins to laugh, her shoulders shaking, tears running down her face like this is the funniest thing that’s ever happened to her. She leans on Miles for support, her hands wrapping around his arm so she doesn’t slip on the ice and he starts laughing too. Fuck if he can stop himself.
Daniel just ushers them in, still baffled, but laughing a little himself.
*
Dan gets them jobs at the university and helps them find an apartment near the campus. They buy furniture from yard sales and second hand shops with their first paychecks. Miles buys a record player with his second and armloads of supposedly new albums he’s already listened to more times than he can count with his third.
They spend afternoons sprawled across the living room floor listening to The Rolling Stones and arguing over who’s going to cook dinner until they reach a stalemate and walk to the crappy pizza place down the street so they can argue about toppings instead.
*
Sawyer sends her a letter six months too late for it to really matter anymore.
Miles comes home and finds it crumpled, unopened by the wastebasket.
“You should read it.”
The words come out because they feel like the right ones to say it even though they’re not the ones he means. She looks at him, looks through him, looks in him (and he’s never, ever going to get used to that.)
“You want me to?”
Vulnerable is not really his thing, so he just puts as much meaning into his shrug as he can muster and hopes it’ll do. Juliet takes the letter from his hand and tosses it in the basket, careful to make sure she doesn’t miss this time.
“I didn’t think so.”
*
They listen to Miles Davis on the afternoon he’s born and don’t talk about the fact his mother’s in labor on some crazy ass island they’ll end up on in thirty years (like it or not.) Juliet makes him a pie instead of a cake and they eat it straight from the pan as they lounge around in bed.
“Do you ever regret it? Leaving, I mean,” he asks.
Juliet licks her spoon and he knows that’s her way of buying time.
“No,” she says finally. “I really don’t. I was never going home, I know that. But this…this is close enough.”
It’s closer than close enough for him. He doesn’t say it though; instead he takes her spoon and sets the half-eaten pie on the nightstand before pressing his lips roughly against hers. He tastes blueberries on his tongue.
Neither of them notice when the record stops.
*
Four months later Daniel leaves.
They stay.
***
Title: i guess this is a love story
Pairing: Juliet/Miles/Sawyer
Rating: Hard R (sex)
Words: 674
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Miles knows exactly how he ended up here.
A/N: Written for phelipa at the five acts meme.
The bed was too small so they moved the party to the floor. Now Miles is sandwiched between them, Juliet, beneath him, her long legs wrapped around his back, squeezing him, pulling him closer and deeper inside of her until he can’t seem to catch his breath or even care to try---breathing he’s learning is overrated anyway. And Jim, well he’s behind Miles, inside of Miles, and each thrust of his hips pushes Miles closer to losing all semblance of control.
Miles bets they’re both really fucking proud of themselves right now.
*
If you asked him how he ended up here, Miles would probably roll his eyes and tell you to fuck off. That’s called a defense mechanism. And it’s the only thing standing between him and the truth. He’s not really a fan of the truth, which is quite simply that he fell for them.
It started out innocently enough. Juliet was hot and a little bit scary and weirdly---suddenly, unexpectedly---his best friend. Apparently there’s nothing like time-travelling to bond two people together. So they hung out and they talked and it was cool until one afternoon when he kissed her and made a nice uncomplicated thing complicated.
She kissed him back for a while, just long enough to make him think maybe he wasn’t insane for doing it in the first place and then she pulled away.
“Miles, I can’t.”
And he knew why she couldn’t.
Fucking, Jim.
“Yeah, I gotcha,” he muttered and walked away to lick his
wounds.
So he did the mature thing and started avoiding her and hanging out with Jim instead. And it turned out he wasn’t quite the asshole Miles thought he was. He was kind of funny, kind of rough, kind of damaged. All kinds of hot.
Miles didn’t try to kiss him though, he wasn’t a proud man, but he didn’t have a death wish either. No, Miles didn’t kiss Jim. But Jim did kiss Miles.
*
They must have talked about it. Miles tries to imagine how that conversation went, but it breaks his brain a little. He thinks maybe they went to one of those free love hippie seminars or something. Whatever. He’s here and they’re here and it’s good. Really, mind-blowingly good.
Juliet comes first; she groans and arches her back up to meet him. He can feel her muscles contracting around his cock and it’s un-fucking-bearable, he can’t hold off any longer, he thrusts into her roughly one last time before falling forward to rest his head against her neck.
Jim comes last, with a groan and a muttered son of a bitch. Show off.
They all lie there in one tangled pile for a few minutes just trying to catch their breath. After awhile, Jim rolls away from Miles and kisses Juliet lightly on the lips.
“You okay, Blondie?”
She nods and runs her fingers through Miles’s hair. Miles stiffens for a moment when he feels Jim press a kiss against his shoulder blade.
“How about you, Enos?”
Miles chuckles, surprised at the gentleness in Jim’s voice.
“I’ll live.”
Miles sits up awkwardly. He’s not sure what he’s supposed to do, stay or get the hell out of here. Maybe he was just an experiment, something to spice things up. He can’t imagine they could possibly give a damn about him. Not in the way he wants them to anyway.
“Where are you going?” Juliet asks.
Miles shrugs and reaches for his shirt.
“I don’t know, home, I guess?”
Jim and Juliet exchange a look before simultaneously pulling him back to the floor. Miles tries not to look too confused.
“You’re staying with us, Enos. Might as well get used to it.”
“You sure?”
Juliet kisses him softly, catching his bottom lip between hers.
She runs a hand across his cheek and smiles.
“Absolutely.”
Miles settles between them and relaxes as Juliet drapes a leg across his and Jim lets his hand come to rest over Miles’s heart.
Yep, they’re really fucking proud of themselves.
Pairing: Miles/Richard
Rating: Hard R (sex)
Words: 576
Disclaimer: Not my boys.
Summary: “Maybe I should get one,” Richard mumbles as his fingers trace the blue symbol etched on the back of Miles’s neck.
A/N: Written for gottalovev at the five acts meme.
It’s way too late in the day to still be lounging around in bed, but it’s also too late for Miles to really give a damn. His eyes are drifting shut when he feels Richard shift beside him.
“Maybe I should get one,” Richard mumbles as his fingers trace the blue symbol etched on the back of Miles’s neck. Miles shivers under Richard’s touch. His cock twitches in his boxers and Miles hopes Richard’s not starting something he doesn’t plan on finishing. He raises himself up on his elbows to peer at Richard over his shoulder.
“You’re what, like two hundred years old? I think you missed your rebellious phase, buddy. If you start staying out all night and getting tattoos now it’s just going to be sad.”
Richard ignores Miles’s snark and leans foreword to trace the shape with his tongue. So definitely planning on finishing then.
“What does it mean?” Richard asks, his breath tickling Miles’s ear.
Miles bites the inside of his lip to keep from grinning.
“You really want to know?”
“Yes.”
“Tough.”
Richard slides his hand around Miles’s waist and down the front of his boxers.
Miles hadn’t been sure Richard would understand the game, but he’s clearly a fast learner.
“I can make you tell me.”
Miles tries to laugh, but Richard is squeezing his cock, his hand working it’s way slowly, maddeningly up and down.
Instead, Miles manages to choke out, “Is that so?”
The bed squeaks as Richard scoots closer to Miles, he quickens the rhythm of his hand pulling a groan out of Miles, dignity be damned. Then he stops moving all together. Miles bucks his hips impatiently, but Richard uses his other hand to hold him still.
“Bastard.”
There’s a twinkle in Richard’s eye. A “you’re-not-going-to-win-and-you-know-it” smug ass twinkle.
“Tell me,” he says again.
Miles closes his eyes. He doesn’t want to tell him, that’s the thing. He doesn’t want to explain and he knows Richard. Richard will want an explanation. Under normal circumstances, Miles would lie but in his current state it’s not really an option.
“Peace,” he mutters reluctantly.
He opens his eyes to find Richard staring down at him curiously.
“Really? That would not have been my first guess.”
“Not peace like make love, not war hippie crap peace. Peace like quiet. Like…silence, I guess. I was eighteen and completely shitfaced at the time. I thought it was ironic.”
Richard looks thoughtful for a moment before running a thumb gently across Miles’s temple.
“I understand.”
He kisses Miles lightly, nips at his bottom lip before sliding down the bed and hooking one finger in the elastic band of Miles’s shorts. He tugs them down easily.
“Thank you for telling me.”
Miles tries to say you’re welcome, but it gets lost in a string of obscenities as Richard takes him in his mouth.
*
“You sure you want to do this?”
Richard nods, his lips set in a firm line as the tattoo artist makes his first mark. Miles watches Richard’s face for a sign of pain, but he barely winces.
“Want me to hold your hand?”
“Maybe later.”
Miles chuckles and sits back in his chair as the artist does his work. An hour later the man passes Richard a mirror.
Together, Richard and Miles examine the mark, a tiny infinity symbol just above Richard’s right shoulder blade. Richard smiles wryly at Miles.
“Irony?”
Miles rolls his eyes and kisses Richard’s temple.
“Yep.”
***
Title: Close Enough
Pairing: Miles/Juliet
Rating: PG-13
Words: 842
Disclaimer: Not mine
Summary: She cries when she sees the mainland. He doesn’t try to comfort her, figures it’s a thing that has to happen.
A/N: Written for valhalla37 at the five acts meme.
“I’m leaving.”
He doesn’t ask questions he already knows the answers to. Instead he watches her watching the horizon and knows she’s thinking of freedom and escape and lots of other maudlin shit. He’s mostly just thinking this could be the last time he’ll ever see her smile. And fuck if that’s not maudlin too.
“I’ll pack my bags.”
“That wasn’t an invitation.”
If he thought she meant it he might bother pretending to be hurt. He grins to himself, already halfway down the dock.
“Whatever.”
*
She cries when she sees the mainland. He doesn’t try to comfort her, figures it’s a thing that has to happen. He walks away, locates a bar and waits for her to find him.
She does.
“Did you order me one of those?”
He motions for the bartender.
“You good now?”
The bartender settles a shot of bourbon in front of her and she runs her thumb across the smooth glass before raising it to her lips. She downs it, no surprise there. Pounds the glass back down on the bar and orders another.
“I think so.”
*
Miles doesn’t wait for her to get over him before he screws her. He doesn’t wait at all in fact. He figures he’s waited long enough (one year, two months, twelve days since the notion came to him.) They fall into a bed in a hotel room two blocks from where the sub dropped them off and fumble with clasps and buttons and pants until it’s just skin on skin, his lips on hers.
They fuck until the sun comes up and then they sleep until noon. He curls against her in his sleep and blames it on reflex when they wake up. She calls him a bad liar, he doesn’t disagree.
Later when people ask, she’ll call this the beginning.
(He’ll say they began in a jungle around the time she pulled a gun on him even though he knows that’s only when it began for him.)
*
Ann Arbor is home.
They don’t say that’s where they’re heading until they’re standing on Daniel’s doorstep, bags in hand.
“Hey guys,” Daniel says slowly, his brow creased as he tries to comprehend the hows and the whys his old time traveling buddies are suddenly right in front of him, freezing their asses off on his porch.
Juliet begins to laugh, her shoulders shaking, tears running down her face like this is the funniest thing that’s ever happened to her. She leans on Miles for support, her hands wrapping around his arm so she doesn’t slip on the ice and he starts laughing too. Fuck if he can stop himself.
Daniel just ushers them in, still baffled, but laughing a little himself.
*
Dan gets them jobs at the university and helps them find an apartment near the campus. They buy furniture from yard sales and second hand shops with their first paychecks. Miles buys a record player with his second and armloads of supposedly new albums he’s already listened to more times than he can count with his third.
They spend afternoons sprawled across the living room floor listening to The Rolling Stones and arguing over who’s going to cook dinner until they reach a stalemate and walk to the crappy pizza place down the street so they can argue about toppings instead.
*
Sawyer sends her a letter six months too late for it to really matter anymore.
Miles comes home and finds it crumpled, unopened by the wastebasket.
“You should read it.”
The words come out because they feel like the right ones to say it even though they’re not the ones he means. She looks at him, looks through him, looks in him (and he’s never, ever going to get used to that.)
“You want me to?”
Vulnerable is not really his thing, so he just puts as much meaning into his shrug as he can muster and hopes it’ll do. Juliet takes the letter from his hand and tosses it in the basket, careful to make sure she doesn’t miss this time.
“I didn’t think so.”
*
They listen to Miles Davis on the afternoon he’s born and don’t talk about the fact his mother’s in labor on some crazy ass island they’ll end up on in thirty years (like it or not.) Juliet makes him a pie instead of a cake and they eat it straight from the pan as they lounge around in bed.
“Do you ever regret it? Leaving, I mean,” he asks.
Juliet licks her spoon and he knows that’s her way of buying time.
“No,” she says finally. “I really don’t. I was never going home, I know that. But this…this is close enough.”
It’s closer than close enough for him. He doesn’t say it though; instead he takes her spoon and sets the half-eaten pie on the nightstand before pressing his lips roughly against hers. He tastes blueberries on his tongue.
Neither of them notice when the record stops.
*
Four months later Daniel leaves.
They stay.
***
Title: i guess this is a love story
Pairing: Juliet/Miles/Sawyer
Rating: Hard R (sex)
Words: 674
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Miles knows exactly how he ended up here.
A/N: Written for phelipa at the five acts meme.
The bed was too small so they moved the party to the floor. Now Miles is sandwiched between them, Juliet, beneath him, her long legs wrapped around his back, squeezing him, pulling him closer and deeper inside of her until he can’t seem to catch his breath or even care to try---breathing he’s learning is overrated anyway. And Jim, well he’s behind Miles, inside of Miles, and each thrust of his hips pushes Miles closer to losing all semblance of control.
Miles bets they’re both really fucking proud of themselves right now.
*
If you asked him how he ended up here, Miles would probably roll his eyes and tell you to fuck off. That’s called a defense mechanism. And it’s the only thing standing between him and the truth. He’s not really a fan of the truth, which is quite simply that he fell for them.
It started out innocently enough. Juliet was hot and a little bit scary and weirdly---suddenly, unexpectedly---his best friend. Apparently there’s nothing like time-travelling to bond two people together. So they hung out and they talked and it was cool until one afternoon when he kissed her and made a nice uncomplicated thing complicated.
She kissed him back for a while, just long enough to make him think maybe he wasn’t insane for doing it in the first place and then she pulled away.
“Miles, I can’t.”
And he knew why she couldn’t.
Fucking, Jim.
“Yeah, I gotcha,” he muttered and walked away to lick his
wounds.
So he did the mature thing and started avoiding her and hanging out with Jim instead. And it turned out he wasn’t quite the asshole Miles thought he was. He was kind of funny, kind of rough, kind of damaged. All kinds of hot.
Miles didn’t try to kiss him though, he wasn’t a proud man, but he didn’t have a death wish either. No, Miles didn’t kiss Jim. But Jim did kiss Miles.
*
They must have talked about it. Miles tries to imagine how that conversation went, but it breaks his brain a little. He thinks maybe they went to one of those free love hippie seminars or something. Whatever. He’s here and they’re here and it’s good. Really, mind-blowingly good.
Juliet comes first; she groans and arches her back up to meet him. He can feel her muscles contracting around his cock and it’s un-fucking-bearable, he can’t hold off any longer, he thrusts into her roughly one last time before falling forward to rest his head against her neck.
Jim comes last, with a groan and a muttered son of a bitch. Show off.
They all lie there in one tangled pile for a few minutes just trying to catch their breath. After awhile, Jim rolls away from Miles and kisses Juliet lightly on the lips.
“You okay, Blondie?”
She nods and runs her fingers through Miles’s hair. Miles stiffens for a moment when he feels Jim press a kiss against his shoulder blade.
“How about you, Enos?”
Miles chuckles, surprised at the gentleness in Jim’s voice.
“I’ll live.”
Miles sits up awkwardly. He’s not sure what he’s supposed to do, stay or get the hell out of here. Maybe he was just an experiment, something to spice things up. He can’t imagine they could possibly give a damn about him. Not in the way he wants them to anyway.
“Where are you going?” Juliet asks.
Miles shrugs and reaches for his shirt.
“I don’t know, home, I guess?”
Jim and Juliet exchange a look before simultaneously pulling him back to the floor. Miles tries not to look too confused.
“You’re staying with us, Enos. Might as well get used to it.”
“You sure?”
Juliet kisses him softly, catching his bottom lip between hers.
She runs a hand across his cheek and smiles.
“Absolutely.”
Miles settles between them and relaxes as Juliet drapes a leg across his and Jim lets his hand come to rest over Miles’s heart.
Yep, they’re really fucking proud of themselves.