#008 - Awake
Title: Afterthought
Word count: 600
Time frame: Right after "Feelings" and "Instincts"
Notes: I found this half-finished in my fic folder this morning. I believe it was supposed to go along with Instincts and Feelings. I decided to finish it and here it is, added to the challenge list.
He wakes to the feel of something solid pressed against him. Nearly panics for a moment, then notices the arm draped over his stomach. It’s another body curled against him, protective. Warm.
…That wasn’t just a dream.
He yawns, nestling back into the warmth and familiarity of this pair of arms, taking a moment to revel in these feelings. He’s pleased; it was nice. There are a few bruises here or there, but he’s used to being handled roughly. Besides, that curious white-hot electric feeling more than made up for the brief moments of pain.
Another yawn. He’s beginning to wake a little more, and with the return to consciousness it suddenly hits him.
Perhaps this wasn’t the best idea.
They did it without thinking. It was one of those things that people say “just happens.” Well, it had certainly “just happened;” neither of them could have ever planned for or anticipated this. But now…Would that little bit of selfish pleasure outweigh the consequences?
Fear is not a feeling he likes, but he’s all too familiar with it.
This wasn’t the way he imagined the first time would be. In fact, he’d never imagined there would even be a first time. Not with Inferno; not with anyone. He’d accepted long ago that no one could stand his presence long enough for it to ever be a whisper of possibility.
But this was wicked desire; magic, overpowering and oh-so-wrong. It was nothing that it should’ve been; no metal-on-metal, no sizzling energy field, no point of direct contact. Sure, there was an overload. Sure, these bodies fit together, but not in the intimate way their normal ones would.
It was wrong; wrong; wrong.
But by the Matrix, he enjoyed it.
And he suspects Inferno had as well.
This is the part that scares him: He doesn’t know what will happen next. His partner is nothing if not unpredictable; he never knows what will set him off. Sure, they had both wanted it, in these bodies. In that moment.
He’s not sure who will awaken next to him, the man who had carefully carried him to bed the night before or the horrible monster who blames every bad thing -every mistake- on him. In these bodies, he’s never sure of anything, but the worst of it is that Inferno has become more of a puzzle than ever. Sometimes he’s indulgent. Other times, protective. And at the worst times…volatile.
And he’s never been good at solving puzzles.
He gently extracts himself from the arms around his middle, sitting up and realizing for the first time that he’s totally naked. It doesn’t matter; Inferno is still sleeping and who else is there to see? But he has the modesty to blush anyway, running a hand through his tousled hair and looking down at the other man.
Inferno stirs a little, rolling onto his stomach, legs tangled in the sheets. He doesn’t often look relaxed, but here, with his head pillowed on an arm, hair falling in his face…He seems to be anything but himself. He’s even smiling a little; a rare thing in and off itself.
“This is right” a little voice in the back of his mind whispers. He tries to be stern with that voice, telling it that this can never be right; that it was a mistake that both of them will regret. Only he doesn’t want to believe that, because this is what had been missing. The pieces all fell into place; the burning need was sated.
He hopes it wasn’t a mistake.
He hopes things haven’t been ruined.
He hopes.
Word count: 600
Time frame: Right after "Feelings" and "Instincts"
Notes: I found this half-finished in my fic folder this morning. I believe it was supposed to go along with Instincts and Feelings. I decided to finish it and here it is, added to the challenge list.
He wakes to the feel of something solid pressed against him. Nearly panics for a moment, then notices the arm draped over his stomach. It’s another body curled against him, protective. Warm.
…That wasn’t just a dream.
He yawns, nestling back into the warmth and familiarity of this pair of arms, taking a moment to revel in these feelings. He’s pleased; it was nice. There are a few bruises here or there, but he’s used to being handled roughly. Besides, that curious white-hot electric feeling more than made up for the brief moments of pain.
Another yawn. He’s beginning to wake a little more, and with the return to consciousness it suddenly hits him.
Perhaps this wasn’t the best idea.
They did it without thinking. It was one of those things that people say “just happens.” Well, it had certainly “just happened;” neither of them could have ever planned for or anticipated this. But now…Would that little bit of selfish pleasure outweigh the consequences?
Fear is not a feeling he likes, but he’s all too familiar with it.
This wasn’t the way he imagined the first time would be. In fact, he’d never imagined there would even be a first time. Not with Inferno; not with anyone. He’d accepted long ago that no one could stand his presence long enough for it to ever be a whisper of possibility.
But this was wicked desire; magic, overpowering and oh-so-wrong. It was nothing that it should’ve been; no metal-on-metal, no sizzling energy field, no point of direct contact. Sure, there was an overload. Sure, these bodies fit together, but not in the intimate way their normal ones would.
It was wrong; wrong; wrong.
But by the Matrix, he enjoyed it.
And he suspects Inferno had as well.
This is the part that scares him: He doesn’t know what will happen next. His partner is nothing if not unpredictable; he never knows what will set him off. Sure, they had both wanted it, in these bodies. In that moment.
He’s not sure who will awaken next to him, the man who had carefully carried him to bed the night before or the horrible monster who blames every bad thing -every mistake- on him. In these bodies, he’s never sure of anything, but the worst of it is that Inferno has become more of a puzzle than ever. Sometimes he’s indulgent. Other times, protective. And at the worst times…volatile.
And he’s never been good at solving puzzles.
He gently extracts himself from the arms around his middle, sitting up and realizing for the first time that he’s totally naked. It doesn’t matter; Inferno is still sleeping and who else is there to see? But he has the modesty to blush anyway, running a hand through his tousled hair and looking down at the other man.
Inferno stirs a little, rolling onto his stomach, legs tangled in the sheets. He doesn’t often look relaxed, but here, with his head pillowed on an arm, hair falling in his face…He seems to be anything but himself. He’s even smiling a little; a rare thing in and off itself.
“This is right” a little voice in the back of his mind whispers. He tries to be stern with that voice, telling it that this can never be right; that it was a mistake that both of them will regret. Only he doesn’t want to believe that, because this is what had been missing. The pieces all fell into place; the burning need was sated.
He hopes it wasn’t a mistake.
He hopes things haven’t been ruined.
He hopes.