Top Gear, James / Jeremy, 10 prompts
Title: Drabbles
Pairing: None mentioned, but written as James / Jeremy
Summary: 10 drabbles written based on 10_prompts's prompt table No. 11.
Warnings: Some sexual references.
Author: blacktofade
Rating: Nothing more than PG-13
Word Count: Each is 100 words
Disclaimer: I am not associated with Top Gear or any of its affiliates. I don't mean any harm, this is all made up.
Table 11
01. Poison
02. Colours
03. Sweat
04. Hold Your Breath
05. Give
06. Fake
07. Control
08. Tender
09. Permanent
10. Garden
- - -
01.
Every kiss was like swallowing a drop of poison. It lingered in his mouth, the taste washing over him like a summer breeze, until he could no longer stand it. Nothing about their relationship was simple, in fact, it couldn’t even be called a relationship.
What they had were glances that lasted too long, touches that were hot and clammy, and kisses that were stolen during the most inopportune times.
The close calls excited them both, but at the same time, brought them back to their harsh reality.
Despite it all, they would be lost with it.
It was poisonous.
- - -
02.
Nothing compared to how he felt. He no longer felt the sun shine warmly on his face, he no longer felt the soft breeze running through his hair. The colours of the world blended into grey, and food had no taste. It was an addiction coursing through his veins. Sad, but true, it gave meaning to his, otherwise dull, life.
He smiled lightly at the man sitting next to him and wondered if he knew the effects he was having on him.
Probably not, for he was ignorant when it came to other people’s feelings.
He would suffer in silence.
- - -
03.
It was the hot meeting of flesh that undid him. Eyes closed, mouth open in a silent moan, sweat dripping down his back. The pleasure overrode his sense and sent him spiralling into oblivion of pure bliss.
He pushed his hips down, grinding against the older man. His open mouth curved into a luscious smile as he felt his body begin to shake with the ominous presence of his own release.
Their silence was broken every now and then by soft gasps. They didn’t need words to remember their time together, the dried sweat and bruised skin was always enough.
- - -
04.
Every time he passed close enough to touch, he would hold his breath. As if trying to pause the moment, to stop time. That was all he could do. They were only friends, nothing more, nothing less. But he savoured those moments, they were what kept him going.
It was hard trying to hide his feelings, but it would never change and the heavy weight hanging over him would never disappear. It was a constant reminder of what he wanted more that anything. He was not selfish enough to jeopardise their friendship.
So he just waited and held his breath.
- - -
05.
He felt as though all he ever did was give. He gave his heart and soul to the one person he cared about, but it never seemed enough. The tears never came, but they were always threatening to fall, to make him look like a fool. The other man didn’t care. Why should he? He was just a love-sick clown, waiting for his heart to be broken.
He wore his poor heart on his sleeve and kept wondering why he was always getting hurt. His eternal giving encouraged eternal taking from everyone else.
And who was he to blame them?
- - -
06.
He would gladly fake for the other man’s happiness. He didn’t like him more than a friend, but he was never one to be so harsh as to cause deliberate grief to another person.
His smiles weren’t real, yet they still managed to reach his eyes and light them in a way as to never cause suspicion. The touches were done with his teeth clamped down on his tongue, inflicting a pain that stopped his mind from caring.
Any passer-by would think it were love that they shared, and as long as it looked like it, he would happily fake.
- - -
07.
He was losing control over his feelings. One minute he hated the other man, and the next, he was wanting to fuck him into a different dimension. He never knew what to call the feeling, but he would never go as far as to call it love. Or as far as hate for that matter.
It was what it was and he believed it existed solely to torment him. Like a bird flying inches over the head of a cat. It was in reach of being snagged by its grip, but continued to fly as normal.
He was losing control.
- - -
08.
He was a strong man on the outside, but on the inside, he was tender. His feeling could be hurt, his defences could be torn down by words or actions. No one knew because no one had been close enough to him. Around him was a solid concrete wall to keep people away. It threw people off wanting to be near him, it caused people to hate him. He put up with it because he couldn’t handle being hurt.
When the younger man started showing affection for him, he was thrown completely off guard. How could this happen to him?
- - -
09.
Nothing was ever permanent. Friendships started, bloomed, wilted, and died. Life, well life was far too short to be taken seriously. Even though the odds were against them, when all things in the universe tried their hardest to pull them apart, he stayed.
A soft caress down one cheek, a light kiss on the jaw. None of it compared to how he felt on the inside. Burning like the sun inside him, he tried not to let it show, for fear of losing him. The fear of knowing that nothing was permanent. It was always there. Reminding him. Haunting him.
- - -
10.
He was unique. Like a flower found in a garden full of weeds. Nothing he did made sense, yet, to himself, it did. The way he walked, the way he talked, the way he glanced in his direction every now and then, as if seeking some approval.
If he were selfish, he would pick him from the garden and keep him in a vase on his table. But he knew that if he did, he would surely wilt and die. It was better in times like these, to admire from afar, to savour the beauty, forever kept in his memories.
- - -
Pairing: None mentioned, but written as James / Jeremy
Summary: 10 drabbles written based on 10_prompts's prompt table No. 11.
Warnings: Some sexual references.
Author: blacktofade
Rating: Nothing more than PG-13
Word Count: Each is 100 words
Disclaimer: I am not associated with Top Gear or any of its affiliates. I don't mean any harm, this is all made up.
Table 11
01. Poison
02. Colours
03. Sweat
04. Hold Your Breath
05. Give
06. Fake
07. Control
08. Tender
09. Permanent
10. Garden
- - -
01.
Every kiss was like swallowing a drop of poison. It lingered in his mouth, the taste washing over him like a summer breeze, until he could no longer stand it. Nothing about their relationship was simple, in fact, it couldn’t even be called a relationship.
What they had were glances that lasted too long, touches that were hot and clammy, and kisses that were stolen during the most inopportune times.
The close calls excited them both, but at the same time, brought them back to their harsh reality.
Despite it all, they would be lost with it.
It was poisonous.
- - -
02.
Nothing compared to how he felt. He no longer felt the sun shine warmly on his face, he no longer felt the soft breeze running through his hair. The colours of the world blended into grey, and food had no taste. It was an addiction coursing through his veins. Sad, but true, it gave meaning to his, otherwise dull, life.
He smiled lightly at the man sitting next to him and wondered if he knew the effects he was having on him.
Probably not, for he was ignorant when it came to other people’s feelings.
He would suffer in silence.
- - -
03.
It was the hot meeting of flesh that undid him. Eyes closed, mouth open in a silent moan, sweat dripping down his back. The pleasure overrode his sense and sent him spiralling into oblivion of pure bliss.
He pushed his hips down, grinding against the older man. His open mouth curved into a luscious smile as he felt his body begin to shake with the ominous presence of his own release.
Their silence was broken every now and then by soft gasps. They didn’t need words to remember their time together, the dried sweat and bruised skin was always enough.
- - -
04.
Every time he passed close enough to touch, he would hold his breath. As if trying to pause the moment, to stop time. That was all he could do. They were only friends, nothing more, nothing less. But he savoured those moments, they were what kept him going.
It was hard trying to hide his feelings, but it would never change and the heavy weight hanging over him would never disappear. It was a constant reminder of what he wanted more that anything. He was not selfish enough to jeopardise their friendship.
So he just waited and held his breath.
- - -
05.
He felt as though all he ever did was give. He gave his heart and soul to the one person he cared about, but it never seemed enough. The tears never came, but they were always threatening to fall, to make him look like a fool. The other man didn’t care. Why should he? He was just a love-sick clown, waiting for his heart to be broken.
He wore his poor heart on his sleeve and kept wondering why he was always getting hurt. His eternal giving encouraged eternal taking from everyone else.
And who was he to blame them?
- - -
06.
He would gladly fake for the other man’s happiness. He didn’t like him more than a friend, but he was never one to be so harsh as to cause deliberate grief to another person.
His smiles weren’t real, yet they still managed to reach his eyes and light them in a way as to never cause suspicion. The touches were done with his teeth clamped down on his tongue, inflicting a pain that stopped his mind from caring.
Any passer-by would think it were love that they shared, and as long as it looked like it, he would happily fake.
- - -
07.
He was losing control over his feelings. One minute he hated the other man, and the next, he was wanting to fuck him into a different dimension. He never knew what to call the feeling, but he would never go as far as to call it love. Or as far as hate for that matter.
It was what it was and he believed it existed solely to torment him. Like a bird flying inches over the head of a cat. It was in reach of being snagged by its grip, but continued to fly as normal.
He was losing control.
- - -
08.
He was a strong man on the outside, but on the inside, he was tender. His feeling could be hurt, his defences could be torn down by words or actions. No one knew because no one had been close enough to him. Around him was a solid concrete wall to keep people away. It threw people off wanting to be near him, it caused people to hate him. He put up with it because he couldn’t handle being hurt.
When the younger man started showing affection for him, he was thrown completely off guard. How could this happen to him?
- - -
09.
Nothing was ever permanent. Friendships started, bloomed, wilted, and died. Life, well life was far too short to be taken seriously. Even though the odds were against them, when all things in the universe tried their hardest to pull them apart, he stayed.
A soft caress down one cheek, a light kiss on the jaw. None of it compared to how he felt on the inside. Burning like the sun inside him, he tried not to let it show, for fear of losing him. The fear of knowing that nothing was permanent. It was always there. Reminding him. Haunting him.
- - -
10.
He was unique. Like a flower found in a garden full of weeds. Nothing he did made sense, yet, to himself, it did. The way he walked, the way he talked, the way he glanced in his direction every now and then, as if seeking some approval.
If he were selfish, he would pick him from the garden and keep him in a vase on his table. But he knew that if he did, he would surely wilt and die. It was better in times like these, to admire from afar, to savour the beauty, forever kept in his memories.
- - -