lemon chiffon+grapefruit
Author: Aublivienne
Challenge: Lemon Chiffon #12 (all night long), Grapefruit #4 (tough act to follow)
Rating: hard R (Carmine being Carmine, but nothing terribly graphic)
Wordcount: 1443
Summary: Kashmir gives some great advice, but then alcohol is introduced. Also, Jules has a weakness for the bits of metal embedded in Carmine's body. Begins a few hours after this piece.
I loved partying. The dancing, the music, the drinks...I loved it all. No trip was complete unless I experienced the nightlife. I mean, hell, there was an entire universe to explore. Why not party freaking everywhere?
Kashmir had opted to stay behind because of the fresh bullet wound in his leg, so I didn't go far. Luckily, there was an interesting little club about a block away from the motel. Everyone there seemed nice...not to mention very attractive. But that just could have been the alcohol.
I collapsed into a booth in a corner. Partying was hard work. I was beyond wasted, it was hot, and if I hadn't known better, I'd have sworn someone was feeling me up. I didn't mind...but no one was sitting with me. I tried to flag down a waitress for a glass of water, but I couldn't move my arms. Or my legs. Or much of anything, for that matter.
...But that just could have been the alcohol.
“Wow, you look pretty drunk,” a familiar voice purred. “Maybe I should take you back to my place to rest.”
The scent of leather and gunpowder hit my nose as Carmine sat next to me. “Oh, and I'm just fine, thanks for asking,” he hissed. “My head's fucking pounding, but it's nothing that a few hours of alcohol-induced bliss can't fix. Or exacerbate, depending on how you look at it.”
Great. This was exactly what I needed. I was drunk off my ass, and a sadistic gunman was trying to take advantage of me.
Okay, in all honesty, a sexy sadistic gunman was trying to take advantage of me, and I wasn't sure I minded.
...Or he may have been trying to kill me. I wasn't exactly sure.
The same force that kept me from moving undid my belt. “What's going on...?” I asked nervously. This was screwy, and I couldn't quite see anything under the table.
“A magician never gives away his secrets.” Carmine laughed. “Why? Do you like it?”
“...No...”
“Liar.” He rubbed his temple and sighed. “Where's Kashmir?” he asked impatiently. “We never quite finished our...conversation.”
Oh. That's why he was harassing me. “Why the hell would I tell you?”
Carmine rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath in a foreign language (which, admittedly, made something stir in my pants). “Alright, here's how I work. I'm fairly certain that your boyfriend's told you--”
“He's not my-”
“Don't care. I'm fairly certain he's told you about all of the delightfully violent things I could do to you, but I could also give you anything you could possibly want.”
I noticed that I had control of my limbs back. “I doubt that,” I said, starting to get up.
Carmine grabbed me by the throat and slammed me onto my back in the booth. That sobered me up fairly quickly. “Let me go,” I said, trying to remember some of the little self-defense tidbits Kashmir had taught me. I had a feeling that none of them would work in this situation.
“Or what?” he asked, giving me that mocking smile that I was starting to grow fond of. “You gonna scream for help? Scream all you want, Sweetness. No one's going to care.” He slipped his free hand up my shirt and dropped his voice to the hottest growl I had ever heard. “Scream for me. Scream my name, bitch.”
The next thing I knew, we had rolled off the seat and we were under the table and he was sticking his tongue down my throat and it was pierced (TWICE) and we were grinding against each other and I was fucking fine with it--
“Wait, no, wait a minute.” I pulled away-not very far, since we were under a table and Carmine had his arms wrapped my waist. “I can't.”
“Says who?” Carmine breathed, moving a hand down to squeeze my ass. “And if you say Kashmir, I'll fucking gut you.”
Damn. That's exactly who I was going to say. I mean, sure, Carmine may have been a gun-toting, shit-talking, terrifying god in a deliciously skintight leather jumpsuit, but I had only known him for a few hours. I had no idea if I was going to make it out of this alive, and Kashmir had pretty much waved a huge fucking warning sign in my face the moment I laid eyes on him.
...But the aforementioned leather god was trying to give me a hickey and he was making it very hard to be responsible.
“Carmine, stop it.”
...Was what I wanted to say, but what actually came out was a choked whimper and a vague reference to his tongue piercings.
“You wanna see what else I have pierced?” he muttered against my neck. My mouth went dry, and I couldn't get out from under the table fast enough.
Getting back to the room the next morning was an interesting feat, and I'm still not entirely sure how I did it. My legs were shaking-hell, my entire body was still shaking-my throat was raw, which made ordering breakfast hilarious for everyone else involved, and I felt awesome. Hopefully Kashmir wouldn't be too interested.
“Someone had a good night, I see,” Kashmir said when I opened the door. I nodded as I handed him a cup of coffee and a breakfast sandwich. I was still really wired. I wanted to scream. Life was awesome. Sex was awesome. Sex with Carmine was so awesome.
I really didn't need to say that last bit out loud, though.
Kashmir leaned back against the headboard. “So how was it?” he asked.
Don't talk about sleeping with Carmine. Don't talk about sleeping with Carmine. “Good.” I nodded. Maybe too much. No more nodding.
“That's cool.” Kashmir turned on the television. A moment of silence passed between us as he watched the morning news.
Then, I screwed everything up.
“Did you know Carmine has like four cock piercings?”
The sip of coffee that Kashmir was in the middle of taking shot straight out of his nose. He coughed and choked, reaching for the box of tissues on the nightstand. Fuuuuuuck.
“What the hell did I tell you!?” Kashmir yelled, still choking. “Dammit...whatever. Did he follow you here?”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I handcuffed him to the shower rod before I left.” I held up the tiny keys I managed to take from Carmine's room. “I thought of that, don't worry.”
Kashmir cocked his head. “How'd you manage that?”
“Easy.” I smiled. “He loves his booze. He was quite upset when I left, though. I pity the poor soul who finds him in there.”
I was going to be having flashbacks for a long, long time. That was the kind of sex that made everyone else look like clumsy virgins. Yeah...Kashmir was going to be unhappy with me for a while, because Carmine was a drug and I was hooked.
“Oh, hell.”
I looked back down at Kashmir. “You say something?”
He rolled his eyes and started to replace the makeshift bandage on his thigh. “Now you want more, right? You slept with Carmine once, fell under his slut spell, and now you're convinced that he's this ultimate sex god.”
I nodded. “Yeah, pretty much.”
Kashmir smirked. “He's not.”
“Kash! He's pierced!”
“Yeah, but that was originally because he was pissed at the fact that I'm bigger.”
“Wait, what?”
Kashmir chuckled and shook his head. “Some couples yell when they fight. We purposely pushed each other's buttons until one of us went out and started poking holes in ourselves.”
This time, it was my turn to choke on the coffee. “Wait, what?”
Kashmir tossed the bloody tissues in the trash and set to work replacing them. “We should get some actual bandages before we leave. Infections fucking suck.”
“Wait a minute. You can't just gloss over that.” I sat on the bed next to him. “It's story time, asshole.”
Kashmir looked at me for a long time before finally shaking his head again. “Later,” he said, smiling. “Much later.” He stood up-much easier than the day before-and limped in the direction of the bathroom.
I pouted. “...Can I at least keep sleeping with Carmine?”
Kashmir waved a hand dismissively. “I told you it's a terrible idea, but you can do whatever you want.”
Challenge: Lemon Chiffon #12 (all night long), Grapefruit #4 (tough act to follow)
Rating: hard R (Carmine being Carmine, but nothing terribly graphic)
Wordcount: 1443
Summary: Kashmir gives some great advice, but then alcohol is introduced. Also, Jules has a weakness for the bits of metal embedded in Carmine's body. Begins a few hours after this piece.
I loved partying. The dancing, the music, the drinks...I loved it all. No trip was complete unless I experienced the nightlife. I mean, hell, there was an entire universe to explore. Why not party freaking everywhere?
Kashmir had opted to stay behind because of the fresh bullet wound in his leg, so I didn't go far. Luckily, there was an interesting little club about a block away from the motel. Everyone there seemed nice...not to mention very attractive. But that just could have been the alcohol.
I collapsed into a booth in a corner. Partying was hard work. I was beyond wasted, it was hot, and if I hadn't known better, I'd have sworn someone was feeling me up. I didn't mind...but no one was sitting with me. I tried to flag down a waitress for a glass of water, but I couldn't move my arms. Or my legs. Or much of anything, for that matter.
...But that just could have been the alcohol.
“Wow, you look pretty drunk,” a familiar voice purred. “Maybe I should take you back to my place to rest.”
The scent of leather and gunpowder hit my nose as Carmine sat next to me. “Oh, and I'm just fine, thanks for asking,” he hissed. “My head's fucking pounding, but it's nothing that a few hours of alcohol-induced bliss can't fix. Or exacerbate, depending on how you look at it.”
Great. This was exactly what I needed. I was drunk off my ass, and a sadistic gunman was trying to take advantage of me.
Okay, in all honesty, a sexy sadistic gunman was trying to take advantage of me, and I wasn't sure I minded.
...Or he may have been trying to kill me. I wasn't exactly sure.
The same force that kept me from moving undid my belt. “What's going on...?” I asked nervously. This was screwy, and I couldn't quite see anything under the table.
“A magician never gives away his secrets.” Carmine laughed. “Why? Do you like it?”
“...No...”
“Liar.” He rubbed his temple and sighed. “Where's Kashmir?” he asked impatiently. “We never quite finished our...conversation.”
Oh. That's why he was harassing me. “Why the hell would I tell you?”
Carmine rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath in a foreign language (which, admittedly, made something stir in my pants). “Alright, here's how I work. I'm fairly certain that your boyfriend's told you--”
“He's not my-”
“Don't care. I'm fairly certain he's told you about all of the delightfully violent things I could do to you, but I could also give you anything you could possibly want.”
I noticed that I had control of my limbs back. “I doubt that,” I said, starting to get up.
Carmine grabbed me by the throat and slammed me onto my back in the booth. That sobered me up fairly quickly. “Let me go,” I said, trying to remember some of the little self-defense tidbits Kashmir had taught me. I had a feeling that none of them would work in this situation.
“Or what?” he asked, giving me that mocking smile that I was starting to grow fond of. “You gonna scream for help? Scream all you want, Sweetness. No one's going to care.” He slipped his free hand up my shirt and dropped his voice to the hottest growl I had ever heard. “Scream for me. Scream my name, bitch.”
The next thing I knew, we had rolled off the seat and we were under the table and he was sticking his tongue down my throat and it was pierced (TWICE) and we were grinding against each other and I was fucking fine with it--
“Wait, no, wait a minute.” I pulled away-not very far, since we were under a table and Carmine had his arms wrapped my waist. “I can't.”
“Says who?” Carmine breathed, moving a hand down to squeeze my ass. “And if you say Kashmir, I'll fucking gut you.”
Damn. That's exactly who I was going to say. I mean, sure, Carmine may have been a gun-toting, shit-talking, terrifying god in a deliciously skintight leather jumpsuit, but I had only known him for a few hours. I had no idea if I was going to make it out of this alive, and Kashmir had pretty much waved a huge fucking warning sign in my face the moment I laid eyes on him.
...But the aforementioned leather god was trying to give me a hickey and he was making it very hard to be responsible.
“Carmine, stop it.”
...Was what I wanted to say, but what actually came out was a choked whimper and a vague reference to his tongue piercings.
“You wanna see what else I have pierced?” he muttered against my neck. My mouth went dry, and I couldn't get out from under the table fast enough.
Getting back to the room the next morning was an interesting feat, and I'm still not entirely sure how I did it. My legs were shaking-hell, my entire body was still shaking-my throat was raw, which made ordering breakfast hilarious for everyone else involved, and I felt awesome. Hopefully Kashmir wouldn't be too interested.
“Someone had a good night, I see,” Kashmir said when I opened the door. I nodded as I handed him a cup of coffee and a breakfast sandwich. I was still really wired. I wanted to scream. Life was awesome. Sex was awesome. Sex with Carmine was so awesome.
I really didn't need to say that last bit out loud, though.
Kashmir leaned back against the headboard. “So how was it?” he asked.
Don't talk about sleeping with Carmine. Don't talk about sleeping with Carmine. “Good.” I nodded. Maybe too much. No more nodding.
“That's cool.” Kashmir turned on the television. A moment of silence passed between us as he watched the morning news.
Then, I screwed everything up.
“Did you know Carmine has like four cock piercings?”
The sip of coffee that Kashmir was in the middle of taking shot straight out of his nose. He coughed and choked, reaching for the box of tissues on the nightstand. Fuuuuuuck.
“What the hell did I tell you!?” Kashmir yelled, still choking. “Dammit...whatever. Did he follow you here?”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I handcuffed him to the shower rod before I left.” I held up the tiny keys I managed to take from Carmine's room. “I thought of that, don't worry.”
Kashmir cocked his head. “How'd you manage that?”
“Easy.” I smiled. “He loves his booze. He was quite upset when I left, though. I pity the poor soul who finds him in there.”
I was going to be having flashbacks for a long, long time. That was the kind of sex that made everyone else look like clumsy virgins. Yeah...Kashmir was going to be unhappy with me for a while, because Carmine was a drug and I was hooked.
“Oh, hell.”
I looked back down at Kashmir. “You say something?”
He rolled his eyes and started to replace the makeshift bandage on his thigh. “Now you want more, right? You slept with Carmine once, fell under his slut spell, and now you're convinced that he's this ultimate sex god.”
I nodded. “Yeah, pretty much.”
Kashmir smirked. “He's not.”
“Kash! He's pierced!”
“Yeah, but that was originally because he was pissed at the fact that I'm bigger.”
“Wait, what?”
Kashmir chuckled and shook his head. “Some couples yell when they fight. We purposely pushed each other's buttons until one of us went out and started poking holes in ourselves.”
This time, it was my turn to choke on the coffee. “Wait, what?”
Kashmir tossed the bloody tissues in the trash and set to work replacing them. “We should get some actual bandages before we leave. Infections fucking suck.”
“Wait a minute. You can't just gloss over that.” I sat on the bed next to him. “It's story time, asshole.”
Kashmir looked at me for a long time before finally shaking his head again. “Later,” he said, smiling. “Much later.” He stood up-much easier than the day before-and limped in the direction of the bathroom.
I pouted. “...Can I at least keep sleeping with Carmine?”
Kashmir waved a hand dismissively. “I told you it's a terrible idea, but you can do whatever you want.”