The End.
Title: The End.
'Verse: Ferris Bueller's Day Off
Characters/Pairings: mentions Sloane/Ferris, Ferris/Cameron
Rating: NSFW
Summary: . It was the End. All rules were bucked, all holds were barred. So what if her boyfriend and her best friend were fucking? There were worse things.
Length: 431 words
For: 80s_fqf
She watched them, that night before the End. She stood in the darkness by the doorway and let their saddened exchange wash over her. Once she’d been excited for college. Now she hated the word, hated the damage it did to them, the terrible three. And there was yet another year of high school ahead of her.
She watched as Ferris laid a hand on Cameron’s shaking shoulder, heard the muttered, “You look like shit, Cam.” And it was true. Cameron was so pale he was grey, his eyes a red rimmed mess. His voice was cracked, like a dish or an egg, and he sobbed half-heartedly.
“Ferris…I, I don’t… T-That is I want…”
Sloane shivered as Cameron, usually so dry and droll, stumbled over his words like a child. This was it, then. This wasn’t about premature worrying, or false starts, or false alarms. This was the End. This was the angels and the devils, the fire and the flames. The saints and the sinners cried.
Ferris closed his eyes as if in pain. Sloane guessed that Cameron’s fall from eloquence was just as meaningful to Ferris as it was to her. A deep breath later and Ferris placed a finger over Cameron’s lips, stilling the hurried rush of uncertainties spilling out. Cameron stopped, eyes on Ferris, fixated.
“Cam. Shut up.”
And then Ferris leaned forwards and kissed Cameron. A demanding kiss, from what Sloane could see. Sloppy, but sincere. All tongue, and lust, and desperation. And Cameron moved in, one hand coming to rest on Ferris’s shoulder, the other cradling the back of his neck. There was an air of familiarity to the whole situation, like old friends. Or lovers.
Sloane closed her eyes. She hadn’t…But that didn’t matter now. It was the End. All rules were bucked, all holds were barred. So what if her boyfriend and her best friend were fucking? There were worse things.
Ferris kissed his way down Cameron’s neck, sucking and biting, leaving little pink marks. Cameron was shivering, shaking almost, moaning quietly. He leaned his head back. Ferris moved closer.
She stood in the doorway, obscured by the night, watching them, as they writhed together on Cameron’s bed. She watched as they struggled out of clothing, as shoes were tossed and pants were thrown. She saw them together, saw Cameron bent over and fucked from behind by Ferris.
He liked to fuck her that way, sometimes.
She cried as they came, silent tears as salty as the cum on the sheets.
But it was okay. Because tomorrow brought redemption.
Tomorrow was…
The End.
'Verse: Ferris Bueller's Day Off
Characters/Pairings: mentions Sloane/Ferris, Ferris/Cameron
Rating: NSFW
Summary: . It was the End. All rules were bucked, all holds were barred. So what if her boyfriend and her best friend were fucking? There were worse things.
Length: 431 words
For: 80s_fqf
She watched them, that night before the End. She stood in the darkness by the doorway and let their saddened exchange wash over her. Once she’d been excited for college. Now she hated the word, hated the damage it did to them, the terrible three. And there was yet another year of high school ahead of her.
She watched as Ferris laid a hand on Cameron’s shaking shoulder, heard the muttered, “You look like shit, Cam.” And it was true. Cameron was so pale he was grey, his eyes a red rimmed mess. His voice was cracked, like a dish or an egg, and he sobbed half-heartedly.
“Ferris…I, I don’t… T-That is I want…”
Sloane shivered as Cameron, usually so dry and droll, stumbled over his words like a child. This was it, then. This wasn’t about premature worrying, or false starts, or false alarms. This was the End. This was the angels and the devils, the fire and the flames. The saints and the sinners cried.
Ferris closed his eyes as if in pain. Sloane guessed that Cameron’s fall from eloquence was just as meaningful to Ferris as it was to her. A deep breath later and Ferris placed a finger over Cameron’s lips, stilling the hurried rush of uncertainties spilling out. Cameron stopped, eyes on Ferris, fixated.
“Cam. Shut up.”
And then Ferris leaned forwards and kissed Cameron. A demanding kiss, from what Sloane could see. Sloppy, but sincere. All tongue, and lust, and desperation. And Cameron moved in, one hand coming to rest on Ferris’s shoulder, the other cradling the back of his neck. There was an air of familiarity to the whole situation, like old friends. Or lovers.
Sloane closed her eyes. She hadn’t…But that didn’t matter now. It was the End. All rules were bucked, all holds were barred. So what if her boyfriend and her best friend were fucking? There were worse things.
Ferris kissed his way down Cameron’s neck, sucking and biting, leaving little pink marks. Cameron was shivering, shaking almost, moaning quietly. He leaned his head back. Ferris moved closer.
She stood in the doorway, obscured by the night, watching them, as they writhed together on Cameron’s bed. She watched as they struggled out of clothing, as shoes were tossed and pants were thrown. She saw them together, saw Cameron bent over and fucked from behind by Ferris.
He liked to fuck her that way, sometimes.
She cried as they came, silent tears as salty as the cum on the sheets.
But it was okay. Because tomorrow brought redemption.
Tomorrow was…
The End.