Drabble! 'Obsession' 'verse....and a little update....
So! I did actually post more of that 'Obsession' Christian Kane/Jason Behr story, but I didn't post it here. So now i'll post both the 'old' bit and the new stuff.
Also - i have been reading so many *amazing* Steve/Bucky post Winter Soldier fics...DAMN. Makes me want to write *so much more* in that 'verse. I'm working on a second bit to my first one, so.... Soon, i hope? And working on Space AU, and yes, *still* on the charity auction fics, though those winners probably hate me by now.....
Sheesh.
My work has been horribly boring and tedious and the hours are stupid and i'm trying to find something else. Too bad i'm not an accountant, because they seem to be needed a lot. But wow, could not do that job.
Anyway - here's the bits of the 'Obsession' 'verse that are new. Of course, they're all over at slashthedrabble, as well as new drabbles in many fandoms ever week, so go check out the comm! :)
These two are for the prompts 'Alcohol' and 'Illegal'
Takes place immediately after Murder By Numbers.
Whiskey Burn
"You want another shot?" Aldis asked, and Jensen hesitated. "Something wrong?"
"Man, I dunno." Jensen looked around the bar again, searching, and not finding that guy. The guy Christian had pointed out a couple months ago; the guy like a junk-yard dog, all glittering, fevered eyes and gleaming teeth, something entirely too predatory in his fake-casual sprawls. In the way his gaze tracked Chris.
Hungry. Obsessive.
It creeped Chris out, and once Jensen saw it, it really got to him, too. He'd told Chris he ought'a go to the cops, tell somebody. 'Just leave a paper trail, man. That's all.' But he'd been reluctant - mostly, Jensen guessed, trying not to give it weight, make it real.
Jensen lifted two fingers and Aldis poured out a shot and slid it across the damp, scarred bar-top, his dark eyes scanning the crowd.
"Worried about that guy?" he asked, and Jensen nodded, lifted the glass to his lips and tipped it up, bolting the shot like his daddy'd showed him. The whiskey went down like fire and smoke, and Jensen sighed out a long breath.
"Yeah. He's always just around, you know? But tonight - he kinda vanished. And Chris thought...thought maybe he'd been to his house or something, said he was feelin' kinda jumpy but...tryin' to just ignore it…."
Jensen tapped the shot glass on the bar and then shoved it away, stood up and then stood still for just a moment, little dizzy dip and sway of the room making him clutch at the bar's edge. Fuck.
"I think-"
"I think you an' Jared should get your asses out to Christian's house," Aldis said, lifting up a hand and waving a bar rag. He pulled his phone out of his hip pocket. "I"m callin' the cops. Either way, they need to know, if the guy's out there or not. Right?"
"Yeah, you're right. Fuck. Fuck." Jensen rubbed his hand over his face, trying to ignore the burn that was mellowing into a comfortable smoulder in his belly.
"Here." Aldis reached down and came up with a bottle of water, shoving it at Jensen as Jared came up to the bar, looking sweaty and anxious. "Yeah. Police, I need the police," Aldis said into his phone. "You guys get moving."
"That guy?" Jared said, and Jensen nodded, then dug for his keys and tossed them at Jared before cracking open the water bottle and taking a long slug.
"Yeah. Got a bad fucking feeling, man. Let's get going."
"Hey!" Aldis called, and Jensen and Jared both turned, looking "He might be armed. You be damn careful."
"We might be, too," Jensen said with a half-grin, thinking of the shotgun sitting in its rack in the back window of his truck, of the Louisville Slugger under the seat. He and Jared turned away as Aldis started talking to the cops, or at least 911, both striding on long legs out of the bar.
He hoped like hell they were wrong, it was nothing, they weren't too late. But the sick feeling in his gut said otherwise.
Breaking the Law
Τέτοια ήταν η φωτιά της αγάπης, αθόρυβοι, αλλά όλες τις χρονοβόρες,
Somewhere, Christian's phone was ringing. Christian jerked at the cuffs and then groaned, his shoulders screaming, his wrists on fire. His ribs.... Fuck, he didn't even want to think about it. He risked a look down, but mostly what he saw was blood, welling up and running down from the numerous little cuts Jason had made.
Christian's phone stopped, and a moment later started again, and Christian felt his heart kicking up, harder and faster. It was Jensen's ringtone, that old Eagles song, and this time of night, Jensen would usually be out and about with Jared, doing things that were only sometimes illegal. Like climbing the water tower in town to throw water balloons.
Not such a big deal, except last time they'd been water balloons full of alcohol that they'd lit on fire first, to 'see what it looked like'. Fucking idiots.
Fortunately, that year, it'd been a wet summer.
Christian laughed softly, a laugh that ended in a groan of pain, and his phone stopped ringing. And then started again and no, this was not good, not good at all. It meant either he and Jared were drunk, and up to something stupid that they wanted Christian to join in...which meant they might be heading to Christian's house at this very moment. Or, Jensen had convinced Jared that Christian was in some kind of trouble because of the motherfucking psycho, and they were heading to Christian's house this very moment.
Christian had seen the fucking gun Jason had, and he had a couple of his own that weren't exactly hidden away (or locked up), and oh fuck, what if somebody started shooting? What if somebody got shot?
The water in the bathroom shut off with a little clunk and Jason stepped out, one of Christian's towels in his hands, dark and wet, and another, dry, draped over his shoulder. He had a smudge of Christian's blood on his cheek and another on his jaw and he was grinning like some kind of mad dog. He climbed up onto the bed, straddling Christian's hips, and Christian tried not to jerk under him, revulsion making his skin crawl.
Fucking bastard was hard.
"This is gonna hurt, sorry," Jason said, and draped the wet towel over Christian's ribs. And Christian screamed, because the towel was wet with more than water, it was soaked with alcohol, too, and oh holy fuck, that hurt.
Jason made little hissing noises between his teeth and clamped a damp, alcohol-reeking hand on Christian's mouth. Christian bared his teeth and bit, and Jason backhanded him.
"Fuck's sake, Christian, stop bein' so damn contrary, would you? Just gonna make things worse," Jason said. He pressed his hands over the towel, squishing out water and alcohol and making Christian writhe, gasping. "You act like you can do anything and I ain't gonna mean ya, and you can fuckin' see that's not true."
Jason dragged the towel away slowly, making Christian whine in pained little gasps, rough loops of the old terry cloth catching on the edges of the cuts. Jason looked critically down at the mess and started dabbing here and there, wiping up blood. He glanced up at Christian, eyes bright.
"You sure do bleed. But that's good, cleans it out. Just gonna have to cover it up with somethin' before we go. Can't have you bleedin' all over the road."
"Wha...what? Go - where?"
Jason scrubbed at a bit of blood, lip caught between his teeth, and then tossed the wet towel away. He pulled the dry one down off his shoulder and started blotting, and Christian groaned again.
"Goin' with me, honey. Did'ja really think I was just gonna leave come sun-up or something? We got miles to go, Christian. Miles to go…." He leaned back, weight shifting on Christian's hips, and surveyed his handiwork. "That looks so pretty, Christian; you're gonna love it when it's all healed up."
"What...th'fuck did you...do to me?" Christian asked. His head was fuzzy, thumping with a headache. He felt nauseated, and too hot, and then cold, rushing waves of it, all through him. His heart would just not...settle the fuck down. Like being thrown off a bronc, hand caught, body pinwheeling along with the flashing hooves.
Breathe.
Jason reached down and ran his finger along Christian's skin, just above his navel, under the last line of marks he'd made. His fingertip felt like ice. "It says 'Such was the fire of Love, stealthy but all-consuming'. That's me for you, Christian. That's you for me. So stealthy, you just...sneaked up on me. But, fuck, now that I know? Now that I see?"
Jason leaned down, so close that his shirt just brushed Christian's skin, his elbows on either side of Christian's shoulders, face so close they were nearly touching. His breath smelled like smoke and candy. Christian...didn't move.
"I am..all-consumed. By you." Jason hesitated, and then leaned up, just a little, and pressed a cold, dry kiss to Christian's forehead. And then he was up and off, moving fast, leaving Christian gasping. Christian's phone started ringing again. "S'why we gotta go. Can't finish this here, not with your buddies tryin' to get hold of you." Jason picked Christian's phone up from where it had fallen and looked at the screen, then turned and hurled it against the wall. It hit and shattered, bits raining down, silenced.
"You better hope they give up, Christian, 'cause I'm not in the mood to play nice."
The first line is the Greek translation of what Jason carved into Christian. And yes, he did it in Greek. He's a little obsessed. It is from the 'Argonautica' by Appolonius Rhodius.
Hope everybody is well and keeping warm! We had ice and then snow and then melt and then more ice and snow. Ridiculous!
Originally entered at http://tabaqui.dreamwidth.org/184382.html - comment where you please!
Also - i have been reading so many *amazing* Steve/Bucky post Winter Soldier fics...DAMN. Makes me want to write *so much more* in that 'verse. I'm working on a second bit to my first one, so.... Soon, i hope? And working on Space AU, and yes, *still* on the charity auction fics, though those winners probably hate me by now.....
Sheesh.
My work has been horribly boring and tedious and the hours are stupid and i'm trying to find something else. Too bad i'm not an accountant, because they seem to be needed a lot. But wow, could not do that job.
Anyway - here's the bits of the 'Obsession' 'verse that are new. Of course, they're all over at slashthedrabble, as well as new drabbles in many fandoms ever week, so go check out the comm! :)
These two are for the prompts 'Alcohol' and 'Illegal'
Takes place immediately after Murder By Numbers.
Whiskey Burn
"You want another shot?" Aldis asked, and Jensen hesitated. "Something wrong?"
"Man, I dunno." Jensen looked around the bar again, searching, and not finding that guy. The guy Christian had pointed out a couple months ago; the guy like a junk-yard dog, all glittering, fevered eyes and gleaming teeth, something entirely too predatory in his fake-casual sprawls. In the way his gaze tracked Chris.
Hungry. Obsessive.
It creeped Chris out, and once Jensen saw it, it really got to him, too. He'd told Chris he ought'a go to the cops, tell somebody. 'Just leave a paper trail, man. That's all.' But he'd been reluctant - mostly, Jensen guessed, trying not to give it weight, make it real.
Jensen lifted two fingers and Aldis poured out a shot and slid it across the damp, scarred bar-top, his dark eyes scanning the crowd.
"Worried about that guy?" he asked, and Jensen nodded, lifted the glass to his lips and tipped it up, bolting the shot like his daddy'd showed him. The whiskey went down like fire and smoke, and Jensen sighed out a long breath.
"Yeah. He's always just around, you know? But tonight - he kinda vanished. And Chris thought...thought maybe he'd been to his house or something, said he was feelin' kinda jumpy but...tryin' to just ignore it…."
Jensen tapped the shot glass on the bar and then shoved it away, stood up and then stood still for just a moment, little dizzy dip and sway of the room making him clutch at the bar's edge. Fuck.
"I think-"
"I think you an' Jared should get your asses out to Christian's house," Aldis said, lifting up a hand and waving a bar rag. He pulled his phone out of his hip pocket. "I"m callin' the cops. Either way, they need to know, if the guy's out there or not. Right?"
"Yeah, you're right. Fuck. Fuck." Jensen rubbed his hand over his face, trying to ignore the burn that was mellowing into a comfortable smoulder in his belly.
"Here." Aldis reached down and came up with a bottle of water, shoving it at Jensen as Jared came up to the bar, looking sweaty and anxious. "Yeah. Police, I need the police," Aldis said into his phone. "You guys get moving."
"That guy?" Jared said, and Jensen nodded, then dug for his keys and tossed them at Jared before cracking open the water bottle and taking a long slug.
"Yeah. Got a bad fucking feeling, man. Let's get going."
"Hey!" Aldis called, and Jensen and Jared both turned, looking "He might be armed. You be damn careful."
"We might be, too," Jensen said with a half-grin, thinking of the shotgun sitting in its rack in the back window of his truck, of the Louisville Slugger under the seat. He and Jared turned away as Aldis started talking to the cops, or at least 911, both striding on long legs out of the bar.
He hoped like hell they were wrong, it was nothing, they weren't too late. But the sick feeling in his gut said otherwise.
Breaking the Law
Τέτοια ήταν η φωτιά της αγάπης, αθόρυβοι, αλλά όλες τις χρονοβόρες,
Somewhere, Christian's phone was ringing. Christian jerked at the cuffs and then groaned, his shoulders screaming, his wrists on fire. His ribs.... Fuck, he didn't even want to think about it. He risked a look down, but mostly what he saw was blood, welling up and running down from the numerous little cuts Jason had made.
Christian's phone stopped, and a moment later started again, and Christian felt his heart kicking up, harder and faster. It was Jensen's ringtone, that old Eagles song, and this time of night, Jensen would usually be out and about with Jared, doing things that were only sometimes illegal. Like climbing the water tower in town to throw water balloons.
Not such a big deal, except last time they'd been water balloons full of alcohol that they'd lit on fire first, to 'see what it looked like'. Fucking idiots.
Fortunately, that year, it'd been a wet summer.
Christian laughed softly, a laugh that ended in a groan of pain, and his phone stopped ringing. And then started again and no, this was not good, not good at all. It meant either he and Jared were drunk, and up to something stupid that they wanted Christian to join in...which meant they might be heading to Christian's house at this very moment. Or, Jensen had convinced Jared that Christian was in some kind of trouble because of the motherfucking psycho, and they were heading to Christian's house this very moment.
Christian had seen the fucking gun Jason had, and he had a couple of his own that weren't exactly hidden away (or locked up), and oh fuck, what if somebody started shooting? What if somebody got shot?
The water in the bathroom shut off with a little clunk and Jason stepped out, one of Christian's towels in his hands, dark and wet, and another, dry, draped over his shoulder. He had a smudge of Christian's blood on his cheek and another on his jaw and he was grinning like some kind of mad dog. He climbed up onto the bed, straddling Christian's hips, and Christian tried not to jerk under him, revulsion making his skin crawl.
Fucking bastard was hard.
"This is gonna hurt, sorry," Jason said, and draped the wet towel over Christian's ribs. And Christian screamed, because the towel was wet with more than water, it was soaked with alcohol, too, and oh holy fuck, that hurt.
Jason made little hissing noises between his teeth and clamped a damp, alcohol-reeking hand on Christian's mouth. Christian bared his teeth and bit, and Jason backhanded him.
"Fuck's sake, Christian, stop bein' so damn contrary, would you? Just gonna make things worse," Jason said. He pressed his hands over the towel, squishing out water and alcohol and making Christian writhe, gasping. "You act like you can do anything and I ain't gonna mean ya, and you can fuckin' see that's not true."
Jason dragged the towel away slowly, making Christian whine in pained little gasps, rough loops of the old terry cloth catching on the edges of the cuts. Jason looked critically down at the mess and started dabbing here and there, wiping up blood. He glanced up at Christian, eyes bright.
"You sure do bleed. But that's good, cleans it out. Just gonna have to cover it up with somethin' before we go. Can't have you bleedin' all over the road."
"Wha...what? Go - where?"
Jason scrubbed at a bit of blood, lip caught between his teeth, and then tossed the wet towel away. He pulled the dry one down off his shoulder and started blotting, and Christian groaned again.
"Goin' with me, honey. Did'ja really think I was just gonna leave come sun-up or something? We got miles to go, Christian. Miles to go…." He leaned back, weight shifting on Christian's hips, and surveyed his handiwork. "That looks so pretty, Christian; you're gonna love it when it's all healed up."
"What...th'fuck did you...do to me?" Christian asked. His head was fuzzy, thumping with a headache. He felt nauseated, and too hot, and then cold, rushing waves of it, all through him. His heart would just not...settle the fuck down. Like being thrown off a bronc, hand caught, body pinwheeling along with the flashing hooves.
Breathe.
Jason reached down and ran his finger along Christian's skin, just above his navel, under the last line of marks he'd made. His fingertip felt like ice. "It says 'Such was the fire of Love, stealthy but all-consuming'. That's me for you, Christian. That's you for me. So stealthy, you just...sneaked up on me. But, fuck, now that I know? Now that I see?"
Jason leaned down, so close that his shirt just brushed Christian's skin, his elbows on either side of Christian's shoulders, face so close they were nearly touching. His breath smelled like smoke and candy. Christian...didn't move.
"I am..all-consumed. By you." Jason hesitated, and then leaned up, just a little, and pressed a cold, dry kiss to Christian's forehead. And then he was up and off, moving fast, leaving Christian gasping. Christian's phone started ringing again. "S'why we gotta go. Can't finish this here, not with your buddies tryin' to get hold of you." Jason picked Christian's phone up from where it had fallen and looked at the screen, then turned and hurled it against the wall. It hit and shattered, bits raining down, silenced.
"You better hope they give up, Christian, 'cause I'm not in the mood to play nice."
The first line is the Greek translation of what Jason carved into Christian. And yes, he did it in Greek. He's a little obsessed. It is from the 'Argonautica' by Appolonius Rhodius.
Hope everybody is well and keeping warm! We had ice and then snow and then melt and then more ice and snow. Ridiculous!
Originally entered at http://tabaqui.dreamwidth.org/184382.html - comment where you please!