Ficlet : Do Somethin' Crazy
Title: Do Somethin' Crazy
Author: eviltwin
Fandoms: Flashpoint
Pairing: Wordy/Greg. Mwahaha.
Rating: Adult.
Summary: Prompt : Chance & Jam (as in traffic). Written mainly for goodtwin. Wordy takes a chance and proves to Greg that he's going nowhere.
Disclaimer: None of the following is true in any way, and no profit is made from this work of fiction.
DO SOMETHIN' CRAZY
"You know what the rest of the team think?" Greg's voice is soft in the near-silent interior of his car. He's sat behind the wheel of his car, driving Wordy to work. He'd picked him up real early, and it's just as well. The traffic is nicely backed up heading South and it will take them half an hour more to get over to HQ.
"What?" Wordy looks up from where he is fiddling with the controls for the heat.
"That Spike's the one who's a little nuts." Greg shoots him a half-smile, the kind that drives him crazy, and moves his hand across to brush his fingers over the back of Wordy's neck.
"And what do you think?"
"I think it's everyone else. Mostly you." His fingers tighten their grip slightly, and he gently urges Wordy up before leaning across and pressing his mouth to the other man's cheek. A brief, friendly kiss. Nothing like they had shared the night before, as soon as they were out of sight of everyone else.
Wordy chuckles as he's released, and settles back in his seat. "Thanks a lot. Is that a compliment, or...?"
"It's a compliment. But then I think you're nuts for doing this." Greg's eyes go back to the road, to the long line of cars in front of them that aren't moving much. "Being here with me." Wordy frowns at Greg's words, studying his profile. "What the hell do you see in me, Kev?"
"C'mon, Greg. How on earth do I answer a question like that? Where do I start?"
The other man grins, slaps his hand against the wheel as he looks at Wordy again and nods his head. "That's what I mean. Too easy."
"You know what? You're an asshole sometimes." It's an insult that's full of affection, but really Wordy thinks of Greg like a challenge. He never knows what will be asked, or expected of him next. "You really think I'm crazy for being with you?"
Greg shrugs. "A little bit. You could have anyone, you wind up with me?"
"I think you think a little too much of me. Just go with it, okay? It works, doesn't it?"
"It works." Greg's brought the car to a stop, in line with everything else. They can see ambulance lights flashing up ahead and it's clear that it's an accident that has brought them to a standstill. They were moving before, which means it's probable that the wrecked vehicles are now being removed from the road. The weak winter sun is blocked on both sides of Greg's car, as they are sandwiched between a bus and an RV. Wordy stretches round in his seat to check something out.
"No-one can see us right now," he says, and Greg 'hmm's. He doesn't even look, but he starts paying attention when Wordy slides down in his seat and leans across in one fluid motion, until his chin is resting on Greg's thigh and his legs are bent awkwardly behind him. Greg has time to start asking him what he thinks he's doing before his pants are unzipped and Wordy's pushing his shirt up over his stomach and kissing the skin he uncovers. Greg's hands tighten on the wheel and he hisses through his teeth.
Wordy doesn't listen when he's told to stop. Greg thinks he's crazy? He can do crazy. He can take chances. He can do blow-jobs in traffic and let Greg know that he means this. That he's not going anywhere.
When Greg speaks again, his voice is strained. "What if-" Whatever he wanted to say is moaned out of existence as Wordy swallows him down. He knows there's a chance the traffic could start moving any second, that someone could look into the car and have a clear view of just what is going on. He knows that. It just makes him work Greg harder and faster. Greg has managed to get one hand off the wheel now and it's holding the back of Wordy's head, his thumb stroking back and forth against the bristles of short hair there.
The danger of being caught out is almost forgotten about. Greg's rolling his hips up to meet Wordy's insistent mouth, trying to move things along, but he's not stopping him until he has to. Wordy lifts his head a fraction, uses his hand for a second. He's sweating in the confines of the car and all he can hear is the heavy sound of Greg's breathing. There's an encouraging pressure to the back of his neck and he smiles to himself, unresisting. Greg's close already; he can taste it. It's one of the benefits of their familiarity, that they can make each other lose it so quickly. That they know when it will happen.
Wordy swallows. He doesn't have much choice if he doesn't want to mess up Greg's car. He swallows everything Greg gives him and then he pulls up and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand while Greg tries to fasten his pants with shaking fingers. Wordy reaches across and gives him some help, smoothing his shirt back down. The RV beside them is starting to inch forward and behind it there's a car driven by a tired-looking woman with a gaggle of noisy kids in the back-seat. Greg looks over at Wordy as he takes his foot off the brake. The knuckles of his left hand are white.
"What if what?" Wordy asks. He smiles, trying to look innocent to Greg's hazed, post-orgasmic stare. It's a few moments of inching forward before Greg speaks again, his eyes now on the road.
"What if I'm the one who's crazy?"
Wordy leans across and rests his head on Greg's shoulder for just a second, laughing when he gets slapped away. "You said it yourself, Greg. I could have anyone. Think you should count yourself lucky I'm so batshit insane here."
And there's no need for Greg to answer that. Wordy knows he does.
end
Author: eviltwin
Fandoms: Flashpoint
Pairing: Wordy/Greg. Mwahaha.
Rating: Adult.
Summary: Prompt : Chance & Jam (as in traffic). Written mainly for goodtwin. Wordy takes a chance and proves to Greg that he's going nowhere.
Disclaimer: None of the following is true in any way, and no profit is made from this work of fiction.
DO SOMETHIN' CRAZY
"You know what the rest of the team think?" Greg's voice is soft in the near-silent interior of his car. He's sat behind the wheel of his car, driving Wordy to work. He'd picked him up real early, and it's just as well. The traffic is nicely backed up heading South and it will take them half an hour more to get over to HQ.
"What?" Wordy looks up from where he is fiddling with the controls for the heat.
"That Spike's the one who's a little nuts." Greg shoots him a half-smile, the kind that drives him crazy, and moves his hand across to brush his fingers over the back of Wordy's neck.
"And what do you think?"
"I think it's everyone else. Mostly you." His fingers tighten their grip slightly, and he gently urges Wordy up before leaning across and pressing his mouth to the other man's cheek. A brief, friendly kiss. Nothing like they had shared the night before, as soon as they were out of sight of everyone else.
Wordy chuckles as he's released, and settles back in his seat. "Thanks a lot. Is that a compliment, or...?"
"It's a compliment. But then I think you're nuts for doing this." Greg's eyes go back to the road, to the long line of cars in front of them that aren't moving much. "Being here with me." Wordy frowns at Greg's words, studying his profile. "What the hell do you see in me, Kev?"
"C'mon, Greg. How on earth do I answer a question like that? Where do I start?"
The other man grins, slaps his hand against the wheel as he looks at Wordy again and nods his head. "That's what I mean. Too easy."
"You know what? You're an asshole sometimes." It's an insult that's full of affection, but really Wordy thinks of Greg like a challenge. He never knows what will be asked, or expected of him next. "You really think I'm crazy for being with you?"
Greg shrugs. "A little bit. You could have anyone, you wind up with me?"
"I think you think a little too much of me. Just go with it, okay? It works, doesn't it?"
"It works." Greg's brought the car to a stop, in line with everything else. They can see ambulance lights flashing up ahead and it's clear that it's an accident that has brought them to a standstill. They were moving before, which means it's probable that the wrecked vehicles are now being removed from the road. The weak winter sun is blocked on both sides of Greg's car, as they are sandwiched between a bus and an RV. Wordy stretches round in his seat to check something out.
"No-one can see us right now," he says, and Greg 'hmm's. He doesn't even look, but he starts paying attention when Wordy slides down in his seat and leans across in one fluid motion, until his chin is resting on Greg's thigh and his legs are bent awkwardly behind him. Greg has time to start asking him what he thinks he's doing before his pants are unzipped and Wordy's pushing his shirt up over his stomach and kissing the skin he uncovers. Greg's hands tighten on the wheel and he hisses through his teeth.
Wordy doesn't listen when he's told to stop. Greg thinks he's crazy? He can do crazy. He can take chances. He can do blow-jobs in traffic and let Greg know that he means this. That he's not going anywhere.
When Greg speaks again, his voice is strained. "What if-" Whatever he wanted to say is moaned out of existence as Wordy swallows him down. He knows there's a chance the traffic could start moving any second, that someone could look into the car and have a clear view of just what is going on. He knows that. It just makes him work Greg harder and faster. Greg has managed to get one hand off the wheel now and it's holding the back of Wordy's head, his thumb stroking back and forth against the bristles of short hair there.
The danger of being caught out is almost forgotten about. Greg's rolling his hips up to meet Wordy's insistent mouth, trying to move things along, but he's not stopping him until he has to. Wordy lifts his head a fraction, uses his hand for a second. He's sweating in the confines of the car and all he can hear is the heavy sound of Greg's breathing. There's an encouraging pressure to the back of his neck and he smiles to himself, unresisting. Greg's close already; he can taste it. It's one of the benefits of their familiarity, that they can make each other lose it so quickly. That they know when it will happen.
Wordy swallows. He doesn't have much choice if he doesn't want to mess up Greg's car. He swallows everything Greg gives him and then he pulls up and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand while Greg tries to fasten his pants with shaking fingers. Wordy reaches across and gives him some help, smoothing his shirt back down. The RV beside them is starting to inch forward and behind it there's a car driven by a tired-looking woman with a gaggle of noisy kids in the back-seat. Greg looks over at Wordy as he takes his foot off the brake. The knuckles of his left hand are white.
"What if what?" Wordy asks. He smiles, trying to look innocent to Greg's hazed, post-orgasmic stare. It's a few moments of inching forward before Greg speaks again, his eyes now on the road.
"What if I'm the one who's crazy?"
Wordy leans across and rests his head on Greg's shoulder for just a second, laughing when he gets slapped away. "You said it yourself, Greg. I could have anyone. Think you should count yourself lucky I'm so batshit insane here."
And there's no need for Greg to answer that. Wordy knows he does.
end