Story!Time
Title: The danger of wanting
Author: miniaya
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Bob/Harry
Book/TV-Verse: TV
Warnings: Angst!!! Also, not beta'd
Disclaimer: Don't own them... wish I did though. ;)
Word Count: 398
Authors notes: This was inspired by Harlan Ellison's work entitled 'The Creation of Water', and by the monthly challenge word: Transition
It was such a simple thing really. To open the mind and relax the body. Harry wondered why he had never thought of it before. He supposed it was due to lack of observation and stubbornness on his part. In the beginning it had felt pleasant, almost nice in a way that only the familiar could feel. There was a tinge of excitement that had escalated into electricity that played across his spine and the edge of his consciousness. He could close his eyes and see tiny flecks of light igniting his whole body. It almost had an oral quality about it.
He remembered the moment Bob entered him. The moment he found the hidden spot in his mind that had been tucked away in the deepest part. Fantasies flowed to the forefront and played like a movie reel behind his eyelids. There was the rustic fantasy; the waitress at the bar, the dominatrix. All were coming together and colliding with eachother to form a mosaic of heat and pleasure that surpassed any physical touch Harry had ever experienced. But behind all those images of naked women and stickiness, there was piercing sea green eyes watching him.
Strict rules against such melding had been set down by the High Counsel, with the warning that terrible things might result. Harry could have heeded those words. Could have played it safe and never ventured out into unfamiliar territory. Unfamiliar territory that had wrapped itself around his arousal and made it hard to breathe. But Harry needed this. They both did. A tongue slid along his torso and even though there was so much happening around him, Harry could only focus on those eyes. They rode the waves of pleasure together. Each taking a turn to ride and explore the sensitive spots and areas of one another. Harry enjoyed the way Bob felt under his hands. How solid he was, and how his climax tasted.
When it was over they gently separated, but never spoke. Awkward silence filled the apartment as Bob disentangled himself form inside Harry’s mind. The sheets were damp and cold and Harry’s head began to ache. He squinted at the light and slowly sat up. He was naked and his chest was covered in sticky residue. Bob was nowhere to be seen. That was the day Harry began to have nightmares; the product of a broken home.
Author: miniaya
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Bob/Harry
Book/TV-Verse: TV
Warnings: Angst!!! Also, not beta'd
Disclaimer: Don't own them... wish I did though. ;)
Word Count: 398
Authors notes: This was inspired by Harlan Ellison's work entitled 'The Creation of Water', and by the monthly challenge word: Transition
It was such a simple thing really. To open the mind and relax the body. Harry wondered why he had never thought of it before. He supposed it was due to lack of observation and stubbornness on his part. In the beginning it had felt pleasant, almost nice in a way that only the familiar could feel. There was a tinge of excitement that had escalated into electricity that played across his spine and the edge of his consciousness. He could close his eyes and see tiny flecks of light igniting his whole body. It almost had an oral quality about it.
He remembered the moment Bob entered him. The moment he found the hidden spot in his mind that had been tucked away in the deepest part. Fantasies flowed to the forefront and played like a movie reel behind his eyelids. There was the rustic fantasy; the waitress at the bar, the dominatrix. All were coming together and colliding with eachother to form a mosaic of heat and pleasure that surpassed any physical touch Harry had ever experienced. But behind all those images of naked women and stickiness, there was piercing sea green eyes watching him.
Strict rules against such melding had been set down by the High Counsel, with the warning that terrible things might result. Harry could have heeded those words. Could have played it safe and never ventured out into unfamiliar territory. Unfamiliar territory that had wrapped itself around his arousal and made it hard to breathe. But Harry needed this. They both did. A tongue slid along his torso and even though there was so much happening around him, Harry could only focus on those eyes. They rode the waves of pleasure together. Each taking a turn to ride and explore the sensitive spots and areas of one another. Harry enjoyed the way Bob felt under his hands. How solid he was, and how his climax tasted.
When it was over they gently separated, but never spoke. Awkward silence filled the apartment as Bob disentangled himself form inside Harry’s mind. The sheets were damp and cold and Harry’s head began to ache. He squinted at the light and slowly sat up. He was naked and his chest was covered in sticky residue. Bob was nowhere to be seen. That was the day Harry began to have nightmares; the product of a broken home.