An Eye for Beauty [4/?]
Title: An Eye for Beauty [4/?]
Author: sadeinightshade
Rating: NC-17
Primary Pairing: Linbu
Secondary Pairing(s): Vam
Minor Pairing(s): Tiny bit of Minde; Burton/Jonne
Summary: Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Sometimes that eye needs to be opened.
Notes: This one isn’t entirely my fault, if you’ll see the dedication and disclaimer. It should be a fun write, but I’m not entirely sure how long it’ll take. You should know me by now. XP Goddamn, this thing is coming out fast. *begins chanting* Fluffy, fluffy, fluffy, fluffy, fluffy...
Dedication: To elterriblefizzy, for entertaining the simple notion that Burton must be a porn star. A late night phone call can do a lot for a slasher in need.
Disclaimer: I own no-one in this story. The premise of the story can be accredited to elterriblefizzy. The only thing that I own is the story itself and anyone that you truly don’t recognize (not sure that’ll happen, though). It is, of course, not intended to mar the reputations of any of the parties involved, so no disrespect if they ever get a hold of it. I don’t know them, can’t own them, and I make no money from any of this, so don’t sue.
----
The first cough was the first sign. Burton blanched. Oh, this was going to suck, royally. He couldn’t get sick. Why would he get sick? He wasn’t around sick people. Well, there was that one coughing, sneezing grip that Bam kept threatening to get rid of. But if that was the case, he’d better not be the only sick one. No, that just wouldn’t be fair. He looked over at the phone and then forced himself to sit up. He immediately felt light-headed.
“Fuck,” he mumbled. His voice was somewhat hoarse. Maybe he’d been coughing in the night. Coughing in general wasn’t a good thing. He punched in Bam’s room number and waited.
--
Bam stared at the phone for a moment before he picked it up, greeting his caller with “What’s up?”
“Bam, you’re going to hate this.”
Bam’s cheery disposition-then again, the half naked Finn beside him might have had something to do with that-immediately faded.
“You sound like shit, man…”
“I know,” Burton coughed. “Feel like it, too.”
Bam cringed, but his mind immediately set to work. Plan B! He perked up and then covered the mouthpiece and leaned over to whisper in Ville’s ear, “Burton’s sick.”
Ville’s eyes shot open and he stared up at Bam’s rumpled form for a moment before a grin spread across his face. ‘Go for it,’ he mouthed.
“I’ll send someone down with some soup or something,” Bam said, forcing the grin from his voice. “We’ll take care of ya.”
--
Linde was frightened out of a sound sleep when the phone’s shrill ring cut through the silent air. He stared at it blankly before he reached for it, clearing his throat before he said, “Hello?”
“Mikko! Sweetheart!”
He stared at the phone. Jonne? Why Jonne?
“Janne’s gone and gotten himself sick somehow. Bam’s been calling everyone. He gave us all the day off, said something about one of the grips being two seconds away from getting fired. Anyway, would you do everyone a favor and nurse him back to health?”
Linde’s silence seemed to be all the answer Burton’s costar needed, because he continued with “We’ll see you two when he’s not all stopped up, then,” and hung up the phone. Linde stared at the receiver before he finally hung up as well.
Burton? Sick? He sighed and slipped out of bed to shower and dress. Somehow he knew that he was in for a pathetic sight. Something made him call room service ahead of time to order some soup. After that, he started down to Burton’s room, knocking on the door.
The wait was longer than usual, but eventually the door opened and Burton offered him a tired smile. Linde’s heart melted, though his head was elsewhere, seeing as though Burton was only dressed in shorts and the white terrycloth robe of the hotel.
‘My poor Burton,’ he thought before he mentally kicked himself. Hard. ‘I did not just think that!’
“Go lie down,” he ordered softly, nudging Burton back into his room.
The brief contact made him shiver when Burton’s back was turned, yet he smiled to himself. He was free to do anything he wanted to, within reason. Well, then again, he’d already managed to fall asleep for a little while in Burton’s bed in the two weeks they’d actually been speaking to each other, but that had nothing to do with anything. At least, that’s what he told himself when he all but pinned a now robe-less Burton to his bed with his blankets.
“You seriously don’t want me getting up,” Burton chuckled softly, voice hoarse and quiet. Just that made Linde smile and shake his head.
“You need rest,” he said simply, settling on the edge of the bed, patting Burton’s arm gently. “They sent me to take care of you and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
They sat in a companionable silence-aside from Burton’s coughs, at least-until someone knocked on the door. Burton gave him a questioning look when he stood, saying “I ordered you soup.”
“Oh, Mikko,” Burton whispered, smiling warmly. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Yes, I did,” Linde insisted as he plucked a couple of bills from his pocket, trading them for the tray before he locked the door again. He set the tray down long enough to loosen Burton’s covers so that he could sit up to eat.
--
Burton honestly couldn’t help but watch, just short of stare, as Linde wandered the room, doted on him, bringing him food, water, or tea, pinning him to the bed again unless he had to go to the bathroom and then pinning him again when he came back, sending Migé off for cough drops and cold pills. Burton wasn’t used to the treatment. He hadn’t been taken care of since he left home.
When Linde started to bring something else toward the bed, he freed his arm somehow and took hold of his hand, somewhat calloused from work, but still soft. Soft and a little cool from handling ice, cold water, and whatnot however many times since he’d gotten there. He tugged gently and Linde stared at him for a moment. Burton smiled and eventually the younger man sat back down.
He was more relaxed, he noticed, smirking. He wouldn’t have a heart attack. Well, he might not. They both might if Burton’s tired, clouded mind had anything to do with it. He knew what he’d been telling himself since he’d gotten into acting, but Linde, for some reason, gave him other thoughts-Linde with those pretty gray-blue eyes, the soft skin, the face somewhere between pretty and handsome, the golden cables of hair. He just watched him and found that Linde was watching him back. Both were still. Both were quiet.
--
Linde couldn’t tell what was on Burton’s mind until the arm came around him. A multitude of things flashed in Burton’s eyes and he knew they flashed through his as well. He half expected his brain to kick in properly, bring him back to his senses, and make him run. Instead, it became fuzzy. He felt warm all of a sudden-warm and unexpectedly comfortable.
He felt himself moving closer to Burton, his eyes closing, a hand stroking his back gently and then finding a lock of undreaded hair, curling it around a finger, and then a whisper in his ear, two simple words: “Thank you…”
“You’re welcome,” Linde murmured.
Author: sadeinightshade
Rating: NC-17
Primary Pairing: Linbu
Secondary Pairing(s): Vam
Minor Pairing(s): Tiny bit of Minde; Burton/Jonne
Summary: Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Sometimes that eye needs to be opened.
Notes: This one isn’t entirely my fault, if you’ll see the dedication and disclaimer. It should be a fun write, but I’m not entirely sure how long it’ll take. You should know me by now. XP Goddamn, this thing is coming out fast. *begins chanting* Fluffy, fluffy, fluffy, fluffy, fluffy...
Dedication: To elterriblefizzy, for entertaining the simple notion that Burton must be a porn star. A late night phone call can do a lot for a slasher in need.
Disclaimer: I own no-one in this story. The premise of the story can be accredited to elterriblefizzy. The only thing that I own is the story itself and anyone that you truly don’t recognize (not sure that’ll happen, though). It is, of course, not intended to mar the reputations of any of the parties involved, so no disrespect if they ever get a hold of it. I don’t know them, can’t own them, and I make no money from any of this, so don’t sue.
----
The first cough was the first sign. Burton blanched. Oh, this was going to suck, royally. He couldn’t get sick. Why would he get sick? He wasn’t around sick people. Well, there was that one coughing, sneezing grip that Bam kept threatening to get rid of. But if that was the case, he’d better not be the only sick one. No, that just wouldn’t be fair. He looked over at the phone and then forced himself to sit up. He immediately felt light-headed.
“Fuck,” he mumbled. His voice was somewhat hoarse. Maybe he’d been coughing in the night. Coughing in general wasn’t a good thing. He punched in Bam’s room number and waited.
--
Bam stared at the phone for a moment before he picked it up, greeting his caller with “What’s up?”
“Bam, you’re going to hate this.”
Bam’s cheery disposition-then again, the half naked Finn beside him might have had something to do with that-immediately faded.
“You sound like shit, man…”
“I know,” Burton coughed. “Feel like it, too.”
Bam cringed, but his mind immediately set to work. Plan B! He perked up and then covered the mouthpiece and leaned over to whisper in Ville’s ear, “Burton’s sick.”
Ville’s eyes shot open and he stared up at Bam’s rumpled form for a moment before a grin spread across his face. ‘Go for it,’ he mouthed.
“I’ll send someone down with some soup or something,” Bam said, forcing the grin from his voice. “We’ll take care of ya.”
--
Linde was frightened out of a sound sleep when the phone’s shrill ring cut through the silent air. He stared at it blankly before he reached for it, clearing his throat before he said, “Hello?”
“Mikko! Sweetheart!”
He stared at the phone. Jonne? Why Jonne?
“Janne’s gone and gotten himself sick somehow. Bam’s been calling everyone. He gave us all the day off, said something about one of the grips being two seconds away from getting fired. Anyway, would you do everyone a favor and nurse him back to health?”
Linde’s silence seemed to be all the answer Burton’s costar needed, because he continued with “We’ll see you two when he’s not all stopped up, then,” and hung up the phone. Linde stared at the receiver before he finally hung up as well.
Burton? Sick? He sighed and slipped out of bed to shower and dress. Somehow he knew that he was in for a pathetic sight. Something made him call room service ahead of time to order some soup. After that, he started down to Burton’s room, knocking on the door.
The wait was longer than usual, but eventually the door opened and Burton offered him a tired smile. Linde’s heart melted, though his head was elsewhere, seeing as though Burton was only dressed in shorts and the white terrycloth robe of the hotel.
‘My poor Burton,’ he thought before he mentally kicked himself. Hard. ‘I did not just think that!’
“Go lie down,” he ordered softly, nudging Burton back into his room.
The brief contact made him shiver when Burton’s back was turned, yet he smiled to himself. He was free to do anything he wanted to, within reason. Well, then again, he’d already managed to fall asleep for a little while in Burton’s bed in the two weeks they’d actually been speaking to each other, but that had nothing to do with anything. At least, that’s what he told himself when he all but pinned a now robe-less Burton to his bed with his blankets.
“You seriously don’t want me getting up,” Burton chuckled softly, voice hoarse and quiet. Just that made Linde smile and shake his head.
“You need rest,” he said simply, settling on the edge of the bed, patting Burton’s arm gently. “They sent me to take care of you and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
They sat in a companionable silence-aside from Burton’s coughs, at least-until someone knocked on the door. Burton gave him a questioning look when he stood, saying “I ordered you soup.”
“Oh, Mikko,” Burton whispered, smiling warmly. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Yes, I did,” Linde insisted as he plucked a couple of bills from his pocket, trading them for the tray before he locked the door again. He set the tray down long enough to loosen Burton’s covers so that he could sit up to eat.
--
Burton honestly couldn’t help but watch, just short of stare, as Linde wandered the room, doted on him, bringing him food, water, or tea, pinning him to the bed again unless he had to go to the bathroom and then pinning him again when he came back, sending Migé off for cough drops and cold pills. Burton wasn’t used to the treatment. He hadn’t been taken care of since he left home.
When Linde started to bring something else toward the bed, he freed his arm somehow and took hold of his hand, somewhat calloused from work, but still soft. Soft and a little cool from handling ice, cold water, and whatnot however many times since he’d gotten there. He tugged gently and Linde stared at him for a moment. Burton smiled and eventually the younger man sat back down.
He was more relaxed, he noticed, smirking. He wouldn’t have a heart attack. Well, he might not. They both might if Burton’s tired, clouded mind had anything to do with it. He knew what he’d been telling himself since he’d gotten into acting, but Linde, for some reason, gave him other thoughts-Linde with those pretty gray-blue eyes, the soft skin, the face somewhere between pretty and handsome, the golden cables of hair. He just watched him and found that Linde was watching him back. Both were still. Both were quiet.
--
Linde couldn’t tell what was on Burton’s mind until the arm came around him. A multitude of things flashed in Burton’s eyes and he knew they flashed through his as well. He half expected his brain to kick in properly, bring him back to his senses, and make him run. Instead, it became fuzzy. He felt warm all of a sudden-warm and unexpectedly comfortable.
He felt himself moving closer to Burton, his eyes closing, a hand stroking his back gently and then finding a lock of undreaded hair, curling it around a finger, and then a whisper in his ear, two simple words: “Thank you…”
“You’re welcome,” Linde murmured.