Various commentfic re-posted
Various commentfic re-posted from here, here and here.
[ Brimstone ]
Max and Zeke, chastising.
"Stone," Max said, stopping him on the way to the elevator. "Man, is that--"
Zeke wiped at the dirt all over his face and front. "Don't ask."
"But we gotta get you to the hospital, it looks like someone danced a jig on your neck--"
Zeke smiled. "Yeah, pretty much." He stepped into the elevator when it pinged, giving the confused Max a little wave before the doors closed.
Max and Zeke, snowballs.
"Hey, Stone!"
Zeke turned at the sound of Max's voice and--
"Ooof."
He wiped the snow off his face, slowly lowering his gun which he'd raised automatically. "You just signed--"
His mouth was full of snow again before he could finish the sentence.
"--your death warrant," he growled, spitting it out, and starting towards her.
"Gotta catch me first, dinosaur," She said, and Zeke laughed, stowing the gun and giving chase.
*
Ash and Zeke, tattletale.
"I never pegged you for a narc," Zeke said, dryly.
Ash laughed, her gun trained squarely between his eyes. "Don't be so bitter, darling. Just because you weren't up for the job doesn't mean I'm not."
"Oh, I've got no doubt about that," he said, spreading his arms. "You two are a match made in Hell."
She smiled and she pulled the trigger. "And don't you forget it."
+
Brokeback Mountain, Ennis/Jack, it never occurs to them that they don't have forever ( mirror).
Clouds're rolling in like airborne mountains, wind's stirring wild like a cauldron, and they're running up the hill, wild, gasping, clods of earth showering out behind their heels as they make their way to the top. Jesus fuckin' Christ, he pants once they've there, hands on his knees and eyes skyward, lightnin's goin a strike any minute now. Ennis laughs, and they're a tangle of arms, legs, sweat and dust in the electrically-charged air.
+
[ Doctor Who ]
Mickey/Jake, purpose ( mirror).
After awhile he stops recognizing himself; he looks in the mirror and sees someone else entirely than the boy who once chased other people's adventures. I like it better, here, he tells Jake, and Jake smiles. I like here better with you, Jake replies, smiling into Mickey's mouth.
Ten/Jack, decisions ( mirror).
Oh, my old friend, he says, closing his eyes when Jack gets too close, when he starts to feel the ghost of a body that's hardly been dead long enough to mourn.
This will never get old, Jack smiles into his jawline, biting gently, not as long as you keep shedding your skin and giving me new ones to play with.
Sometimes he wonders whether it would be better if he didn't, but Jack's fingers press like anchors along the line of his scalps, and he knows he always will.
+
[ Firefly ]
River/Saffron, I can see right through you ( mirror).
Pretty lies don't lie so pretty inside, she says as she lays her palm on Saffron's sternum, bringing each fingertip into deliberate contact like the five points of a starfish.
Saffron's hands curl around her hips, pulling her closer, there's a reason I don't let many people in.
Why me?, River asks, and Saffron smiles an uncrafted smile, and her answer is more of an undercurrent of a thought than words, 'cause you're already in here, darlin', and there ain't a thing I can do about it.
*
Zoë/Wash, laughter.
As soon as they were back in their quarters he jumped into her arms, nibbling at her ravenously everywhere he could reach, "mmmm, don't ever go away again," and she carried him to the bed, toppling them onto the covers in a mess of limbs, laughter, and skin that had been apart too long.
*
Mal and Simon, butting heads.
"Fight it out like rams!" Jayne suggested from the sidelines of their argument.
"Excuse me?" Simon said, stopping mid-rant to shoot him an incredulous look. "Did you just suggest that I resolve an argument in the manner of a goat?"
"Heard the words, didn't you, Doc?" Jayne said, grinning.
Mal, hands on his hips, turned to Jayne. "Nah. Doc here know's I'd just crack open his precious little noggin like an egg for seventh day mess."
"I--you would do no such thing--I'll have you know that I played not one, but two, yes, two sports in my youth--"
"Well," Mal said, stepping back. "We could keep flappin' our lips, or," he cracked his knuckles, lowering into a crouch. "We could settle this like men."
Simon blinked. "You're not actually suggesting what I think you're suggesting."
Mal knocked a fist against his skull. "Hardest head this side of the 'verse."
"I refuse to partake in your--your barbaric hyper-masculine rituals that have absolutely nothing to do with the logical progression of a discussion!"
"Loooooser," Jayne droned, throwing tidbits of some unidentifiable brown substance he'd been eating at Simon.
"Your forfeit, Doc." Mal said, but he still hadn't risen. "Guarantees we ain't gonna get you a new pair of whatyoumahasits."
"But it's an essential medical--you can't treat me like this--" Simon looked back and forth between Mal and Jayne and trailed off, sighing.
"Fine, but you get my supplies whether I win or not," he grumbled, and crouched.
Mal smiled. "You get this one as a freebie. Next time, though, ain't gonna be so generous."
Simon groaned, Jayne hooted, and Mal charged.
+
Invisible Man, Darien/Bobby, doughnuts.
"Mmmmmm," Darien purred, running his tongue along the glazed outside.
"Punk," Bobby muttered, trying to keep his eyes on the road, but the van kept drifting over to Darien's direction. "Just--c'mon, Fawkesy, just one little bite, promise I'll never forget to bring your coffee again--" He lunged.
"So delicious," Darien said, stretching the doughnut out of the reach of Bobby's questing arm, licking his lips and rolling his eyes back in ecstasy. "I don't know what I would be doing if I didn't have a delicious doughnut to coat the inside of my mouth with sweet, sweet sugar right now."
Bobby pulled over before he even got halfway through the jelly one. There was really only so much one man could take.
+
[ Iron Man ]
Tony, tinkering.
Another panel here, yes, if he could just get it aligned with the control matrix for the dependent system, it would be perfect, almost there, almost there, and then the separating the wire clusterfuck and re-directing the inputs here, yes, that was it, almost, almost --
And done. He pushed the newly installed red button.
"Luke, I am your father," the suit announced at a volume so loud he almost had to cover his ears.
He cackled, then went to install an automatic-reply on Rhodey's.
Pepper, duties.
"This," Pepper said, dropping the tape that had a post-it which read first porno, give me notes when you're done watching and possibly find me a new lead, this one orgasms like a hyena, "is so far outside my job description that we'll just pretend is never happened so I can continue working for you without dying of shame."
"What?" Tony said to her rigidly retreating back, "the body oil was too much? Yeah, I thought so, too, but I'll nix that for the next version, cross my heart hope to die promise, and I've got forty other candidates for the lead, so I narrowed down the field for you considerably. Pepper? Pepper!"
+
Pan's Labyrinth, Ofelia, chiaroscuro.
She sees through two sets of eyes: in the first, the forest is dark, foreboding, and clenches at the base of her spine with clawing fingers; in the second, the leaves are green, glowing and the wind strokes her cheeks with gentle knuckles that that remind her of a father she doesn't know, yet.
+
Noah's Arc, Alex/Trey, spice.
"Baby!" Alex exclaimed, letting out a giant gust of air when he fell back on the bed. "You been holdin' out on me! I didn't know you had that in you!"
Trey smiled like a large, happy puppy, eyes a little glazed over. "Me neither." He rolled onto his side, affixing to Alex like a limpet, nuzzling his face into the crook of Alex's neck. "You should make fajitas more often."
+
Stargate: Atlantis, John/Ronon, where they discover Atlantis does have security cameras everywhere.
"That's... um..."
Elizabeth had this look on her face, like she'd just swallowed an Athosian yetenna hot pepper she was desperate to spit out. "Yes. Yes, it is."
Ronon just smiled.
John looked away from the screen where his pasty-white ass was doing things that it should never do before his eyes. "I'd like to take this opportunity to make a formal request to have this stricken from the official record as soon as humanly possible."
"Too bad," Ronon said, craning his head to the side. "My ass looks amazing."
+
[ Star Trek: XI ]
Sulu, seeds ( mirror).
He opens the container carefully, waiting until the soft pop-hiss of decompression finishes before lifting the lid and revealing the carefully laid out packets, brown and yellow and black through the airtight wraps. He lays them out, one by one, presses the releases as he goes, and the released scents bring him back to the long nights in the labs, soil under his fingernails, mist cloying in the air during watering time. He breathes deep, something inside him uncoiling; now the quarters feel like home.
Sulu/Kirk, melee ( mirror).
"Pretty sure we're gonna die," Sulu commented off-handedly, looking at the advancing horde of really pissed off seven-legged Ghatarkians.
"That's an affirmative," Kirk agreed, tossing his phaser to the ground because if he was gonna go, he was gonna do it with a little more style than that.
"It's been an honor, sir," Sulu said, and Kirk nodded, you know it, and they crouched down, taking up defensive stances, positioning so that they had each other's backs.
+
[ Threshold ]
Lucas/Nigel, dead men lie.
"Oh, just go for it, already!" Patient #288790 said, rolling his gelatinous eyes. "It's obvious to everyone but you that he feels the same way."
"Yes, clearly," Nigel said, stabbing the scalpel deeper. "you are the person I should be taking advice from. Which one of us got himself killed after sex with an infectee?"
"Hey, at least I went for it," Patient #288790 said. Nigel just grunted derisively, pulling out the mango pit heart and wondering when exactly the corpses had started insulting him back.
Nigel, Dr. Feelgood.
"Oh, come now, doctor," Ramsey said, propping his chin on his steepled index fingers. "I think we both know that you've gotten down and kinky at least once in your life."
Fenway got this faraway look in his eyes. "There was this time one, back in the '60s, with this tree... god, the splinters..." Then he shuddered, coming back to himself. "Not that it's any of your business. Go get your vicarious pervert kicks from someone else."
+
[ True Blood ]
Eric/Godric, flight.
The night after, Eric's gone before Pam's even figured out the outfit she's wearing. He doesn't come back until just before dawn, silent, his usually smooth movements jerky and halting. He smells like atmosphere and rain.
She remembers all the nights they left her earthbound and bored and she doesn't ask any questions.
Godric/Eric, tattoo.
When he closes his eyes and runs his fingers slow, slowly, slowly over the skin, he can differentiate: the slight pebbling of scar tissue that will never heal, the outline of the design he hasn't been able to decipher these past centuries no matter how many dusty tomes he digs up on his Maker's history.
"Why won't you just tell me?" He says, and it's half-annoyed half-petulant, a tone he often finds himself using with Godric.
Godric smiles, still under his touch. "Because then you will stop asking, my child."
Eric sighs, but doesn't stop moving his fingers, tracing, touching, mapping.
Eric, sippy cup.
"Here," Eric said, handing the girl a cup with a charming smile. "I am sure this will alleviate your thirst."
"Thanks, mister," she said, looking up at him with big, trusting eyes. When she smiled, her teeth were bright red.
Jason/Eric, hope ( mirror).
Jason's eyes are wide, and he breathes in as Eric's finger traces along his aortic vein, lengthening his neck under the touch.
Will it hurt?, he asks, pupils dilating.
Eric smiles, as much as you want it to.
+
Wicked, Elphaba, exile ( mirror).
She rests her hands on the minutely cragged stone of the windowsill, looking out at the neverending mountains as far as she can see, the landscape devoid of meaning and her mind blank. When she breathes in, her throat feels rusty from disuse, and the dry air crackles at her memory. The rush of the city made of emerald and what she once thought she could be are now long gone.
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[ Brimstone ]
Max and Zeke, chastising.
"Stone," Max said, stopping him on the way to the elevator. "Man, is that--"
Zeke wiped at the dirt all over his face and front. "Don't ask."
"But we gotta get you to the hospital, it looks like someone danced a jig on your neck--"
Zeke smiled. "Yeah, pretty much." He stepped into the elevator when it pinged, giving the confused Max a little wave before the doors closed.
Max and Zeke, snowballs.
"Hey, Stone!"
Zeke turned at the sound of Max's voice and--
"Ooof."
He wiped the snow off his face, slowly lowering his gun which he'd raised automatically. "You just signed--"
His mouth was full of snow again before he could finish the sentence.
"--your death warrant," he growled, spitting it out, and starting towards her.
"Gotta catch me first, dinosaur," She said, and Zeke laughed, stowing the gun and giving chase.
*
Ash and Zeke, tattletale.
"I never pegged you for a narc," Zeke said, dryly.
Ash laughed, her gun trained squarely between his eyes. "Don't be so bitter, darling. Just because you weren't up for the job doesn't mean I'm not."
"Oh, I've got no doubt about that," he said, spreading his arms. "You two are a match made in Hell."
She smiled and she pulled the trigger. "And don't you forget it."
+
Brokeback Mountain, Ennis/Jack, it never occurs to them that they don't have forever ( mirror).
Clouds're rolling in like airborne mountains, wind's stirring wild like a cauldron, and they're running up the hill, wild, gasping, clods of earth showering out behind their heels as they make their way to the top. Jesus fuckin' Christ, he pants once they've there, hands on his knees and eyes skyward, lightnin's goin a strike any minute now. Ennis laughs, and they're a tangle of arms, legs, sweat and dust in the electrically-charged air.
+
[ Doctor Who ]
Mickey/Jake, purpose ( mirror).
After awhile he stops recognizing himself; he looks in the mirror and sees someone else entirely than the boy who once chased other people's adventures. I like it better, here, he tells Jake, and Jake smiles. I like here better with you, Jake replies, smiling into Mickey's mouth.
Ten/Jack, decisions ( mirror).
Oh, my old friend, he says, closing his eyes when Jack gets too close, when he starts to feel the ghost of a body that's hardly been dead long enough to mourn.
This will never get old, Jack smiles into his jawline, biting gently, not as long as you keep shedding your skin and giving me new ones to play with.
Sometimes he wonders whether it would be better if he didn't, but Jack's fingers press like anchors along the line of his scalps, and he knows he always will.
+
[ Firefly ]
River/Saffron, I can see right through you ( mirror).
Pretty lies don't lie so pretty inside, she says as she lays her palm on Saffron's sternum, bringing each fingertip into deliberate contact like the five points of a starfish.
Saffron's hands curl around her hips, pulling her closer, there's a reason I don't let many people in.
Why me?, River asks, and Saffron smiles an uncrafted smile, and her answer is more of an undercurrent of a thought than words, 'cause you're already in here, darlin', and there ain't a thing I can do about it.
*
Zoë/Wash, laughter.
As soon as they were back in their quarters he jumped into her arms, nibbling at her ravenously everywhere he could reach, "mmmm, don't ever go away again," and she carried him to the bed, toppling them onto the covers in a mess of limbs, laughter, and skin that had been apart too long.
*
Mal and Simon, butting heads.
"Fight it out like rams!" Jayne suggested from the sidelines of their argument.
"Excuse me?" Simon said, stopping mid-rant to shoot him an incredulous look. "Did you just suggest that I resolve an argument in the manner of a goat?"
"Heard the words, didn't you, Doc?" Jayne said, grinning.
Mal, hands on his hips, turned to Jayne. "Nah. Doc here know's I'd just crack open his precious little noggin like an egg for seventh day mess."
"I--you would do no such thing--I'll have you know that I played not one, but two, yes, two sports in my youth--"
"Well," Mal said, stepping back. "We could keep flappin' our lips, or," he cracked his knuckles, lowering into a crouch. "We could settle this like men."
Simon blinked. "You're not actually suggesting what I think you're suggesting."
Mal knocked a fist against his skull. "Hardest head this side of the 'verse."
"I refuse to partake in your--your barbaric hyper-masculine rituals that have absolutely nothing to do with the logical progression of a discussion!"
"Loooooser," Jayne droned, throwing tidbits of some unidentifiable brown substance he'd been eating at Simon.
"Your forfeit, Doc." Mal said, but he still hadn't risen. "Guarantees we ain't gonna get you a new pair of whatyoumahasits."
"But it's an essential medical--you can't treat me like this--" Simon looked back and forth between Mal and Jayne and trailed off, sighing.
"Fine, but you get my supplies whether I win or not," he grumbled, and crouched.
Mal smiled. "You get this one as a freebie. Next time, though, ain't gonna be so generous."
Simon groaned, Jayne hooted, and Mal charged.
+
Invisible Man, Darien/Bobby, doughnuts.
"Mmmmmm," Darien purred, running his tongue along the glazed outside.
"Punk," Bobby muttered, trying to keep his eyes on the road, but the van kept drifting over to Darien's direction. "Just--c'mon, Fawkesy, just one little bite, promise I'll never forget to bring your coffee again--" He lunged.
"So delicious," Darien said, stretching the doughnut out of the reach of Bobby's questing arm, licking his lips and rolling his eyes back in ecstasy. "I don't know what I would be doing if I didn't have a delicious doughnut to coat the inside of my mouth with sweet, sweet sugar right now."
Bobby pulled over before he even got halfway through the jelly one. There was really only so much one man could take.
+
[ Iron Man ]
Tony, tinkering.
Another panel here, yes, if he could just get it aligned with the control matrix for the dependent system, it would be perfect, almost there, almost there, and then the separating the wire clusterfuck and re-directing the inputs here, yes, that was it, almost, almost --
And done. He pushed the newly installed red button.
"Luke, I am your father," the suit announced at a volume so loud he almost had to cover his ears.
He cackled, then went to install an automatic-reply on Rhodey's.
Pepper, duties.
"This," Pepper said, dropping the tape that had a post-it which read first porno, give me notes when you're done watching and possibly find me a new lead, this one orgasms like a hyena, "is so far outside my job description that we'll just pretend is never happened so I can continue working for you without dying of shame."
"What?" Tony said to her rigidly retreating back, "the body oil was too much? Yeah, I thought so, too, but I'll nix that for the next version, cross my heart hope to die promise, and I've got forty other candidates for the lead, so I narrowed down the field for you considerably. Pepper? Pepper!"
+
Pan's Labyrinth, Ofelia, chiaroscuro.
She sees through two sets of eyes: in the first, the forest is dark, foreboding, and clenches at the base of her spine with clawing fingers; in the second, the leaves are green, glowing and the wind strokes her cheeks with gentle knuckles that that remind her of a father she doesn't know, yet.
+
Noah's Arc, Alex/Trey, spice.
"Baby!" Alex exclaimed, letting out a giant gust of air when he fell back on the bed. "You been holdin' out on me! I didn't know you had that in you!"
Trey smiled like a large, happy puppy, eyes a little glazed over. "Me neither." He rolled onto his side, affixing to Alex like a limpet, nuzzling his face into the crook of Alex's neck. "You should make fajitas more often."
+
Stargate: Atlantis, John/Ronon, where they discover Atlantis does have security cameras everywhere.
"That's... um..."
Elizabeth had this look on her face, like she'd just swallowed an Athosian yetenna hot pepper she was desperate to spit out. "Yes. Yes, it is."
Ronon just smiled.
John looked away from the screen where his pasty-white ass was doing things that it should never do before his eyes. "I'd like to take this opportunity to make a formal request to have this stricken from the official record as soon as humanly possible."
"Too bad," Ronon said, craning his head to the side. "My ass looks amazing."
+
[ Star Trek: XI ]
Sulu, seeds ( mirror).
He opens the container carefully, waiting until the soft pop-hiss of decompression finishes before lifting the lid and revealing the carefully laid out packets, brown and yellow and black through the airtight wraps. He lays them out, one by one, presses the releases as he goes, and the released scents bring him back to the long nights in the labs, soil under his fingernails, mist cloying in the air during watering time. He breathes deep, something inside him uncoiling; now the quarters feel like home.
Sulu/Kirk, melee ( mirror).
"Pretty sure we're gonna die," Sulu commented off-handedly, looking at the advancing horde of really pissed off seven-legged Ghatarkians.
"That's an affirmative," Kirk agreed, tossing his phaser to the ground because if he was gonna go, he was gonna do it with a little more style than that.
"It's been an honor, sir," Sulu said, and Kirk nodded, you know it, and they crouched down, taking up defensive stances, positioning so that they had each other's backs.
+
[ Threshold ]
Lucas/Nigel, dead men lie.
"Oh, just go for it, already!" Patient #288790 said, rolling his gelatinous eyes. "It's obvious to everyone but you that he feels the same way."
"Yes, clearly," Nigel said, stabbing the scalpel deeper. "you are the person I should be taking advice from. Which one of us got himself killed after sex with an infectee?"
"Hey, at least I went for it," Patient #288790 said. Nigel just grunted derisively, pulling out the mango pit heart and wondering when exactly the corpses had started insulting him back.
Nigel, Dr. Feelgood.
"Oh, come now, doctor," Ramsey said, propping his chin on his steepled index fingers. "I think we both know that you've gotten down and kinky at least once in your life."
Fenway got this faraway look in his eyes. "There was this time one, back in the '60s, with this tree... god, the splinters..." Then he shuddered, coming back to himself. "Not that it's any of your business. Go get your vicarious pervert kicks from someone else."
+
[ True Blood ]
Eric/Godric, flight.
The night after, Eric's gone before Pam's even figured out the outfit she's wearing. He doesn't come back until just before dawn, silent, his usually smooth movements jerky and halting. He smells like atmosphere and rain.
She remembers all the nights they left her earthbound and bored and she doesn't ask any questions.
Godric/Eric, tattoo.
When he closes his eyes and runs his fingers slow, slowly, slowly over the skin, he can differentiate: the slight pebbling of scar tissue that will never heal, the outline of the design he hasn't been able to decipher these past centuries no matter how many dusty tomes he digs up on his Maker's history.
"Why won't you just tell me?" He says, and it's half-annoyed half-petulant, a tone he often finds himself using with Godric.
Godric smiles, still under his touch. "Because then you will stop asking, my child."
Eric sighs, but doesn't stop moving his fingers, tracing, touching, mapping.
Eric, sippy cup.
"Here," Eric said, handing the girl a cup with a charming smile. "I am sure this will alleviate your thirst."
"Thanks, mister," she said, looking up at him with big, trusting eyes. When she smiled, her teeth were bright red.
Jason/Eric, hope ( mirror).
Jason's eyes are wide, and he breathes in as Eric's finger traces along his aortic vein, lengthening his neck under the touch.
Will it hurt?, he asks, pupils dilating.
Eric smiles, as much as you want it to.
+
Wicked, Elphaba, exile ( mirror).
She rests her hands on the minutely cragged stone of the windowsill, looking out at the neverending mountains as far as she can see, the landscape devoid of meaning and her mind blank. When she breathes in, her throat feels rusty from disuse, and the dry air crackles at her memory. The rush of the city made of emerald and what she once thought she could be are now long gone.
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