The Ultimate FanFic Challenge

Queer As Folk - Michael Novotny-Bruckner/Ben Bruckner - Prompt #22 - Enemies

Sat, 26 Jul 2008 06:17:30 GMT

Title: The Clock
Fandom: Queer As Folk
Characters: Michael Novotny-Bruckner/Ben Bruckner
Prompt: #22 - Enemies
Word Count:445
Rating: PG
Summary: Michael waits for Ben to come home to confront him about his steroid abuse.
Author's Notes: If a relationship between a same sex, married couple in a monogamous relationship offends you, please do not follow the cut. Thank you.

The Clock

My Big Damn Table

Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle :: Kurogane :: o99. || o18. || o91. || o38. || o27

Sat, 26 Jul 2008 03:47:06 GMT

:: A Table to Set ::

Title: Destroyer's Ball
Fandom: Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle
Characters: Kurogane, Tomoyo, various lackluster OCs
Prompt: o99. Depopulator {writer's choice}
Word Count: 2232
Rating: PG13
Summary: Kurogane must stop an assassin at a ball without revealing who he really is and not embarassing the Hoshou Dragons. Ah, diplomacy. Along the way, he finds a new rival.
Author's Notes: KuroTomo, Ch. 5 of Promise Me This! Ah, how I do love my Latin prompts.

depopulator-ris (m) :: ravager, marauder, destroyer

Maybe it was because of the way he'd grown up, but people like these, strutting around in their finery and trying to prove themselves more important than the other always struck him as so fragile. Their robes didn't allow for much weaponry, some were pale and dainty-looking, so easy to dispatch. And yet, here they were, ruling the world though unable to defend themselves from it, he thought sourly.

Like human peacocks, all feathers, no shell.

It was an odd feeling, being paraded around the room with the princess. She hadn't mentioned that he'd need to disguise himself as a rich lord himself in order to gain admittance, and it was purely out of luck that the Duke of Hoshou--some guy called...what was his name..Hastuhiro?-- had fallen ill. Apparently, something in the palace food had upset his stomach and his messenger had been dispatched to inform the princess.

So, dressed in the vibrant canary yellow of Hoshou, feeling like a gigantic sun come to roost in the ballroom, Kurogane strode next to Princess Tomoyo as her escort for the evening. He'd not quite managed to get a good disguise going for the sword, and even at the cost of strapping it rigidly to his back, he couldn't risk taking it. Bending would be too difficult and he'd need to move. He and Tomoyo had compromised then, by hanging it as a decoration on a central wall. If need be, he could race over and snag it.

The sleeves had allowed for much more creativity: various throwing stars, small knives, and daggers lined his arms in easy access. Ideally, he'd prefer it if combat was far away, as he'd barely gotten a thin layer of leather armor on under the robe, but hell, it wasn't like he had a choice. Whoever attacked Tomoyo could choose any time to act. The one redeeming thing about the garment was that it had regal golden-white dragons shimmering on it.

The duke had been pretty good about letting them use his name for the evening. Tomoyo had sent the page right back to his master, inquiring whether it would be suitable to use his name at the ball, and the reply had been affirmative. Hoshou owed a good deal to Nihon, it appeared. So, for the night, Kurogane was now Katsuo of Hoshou, going to the ball in his cousin's stead.

Someone came up to meet them, looking so old that Kurogane thought a single touch from him would break the man. It was weird, being royalty, and he didn't think he liked it very much.

Still, he tried to act the part as well he could, and sure enough, when the evening was over, people would recall the delegate from Hoshou as being a tall, dark, and brooding man.

But the evening was far from over.

In fact, the way Kurogane saw it, this whole mess had yet to even begin.

This was just one more reason why he disliked his society gatherings. All the vulnerable people gathered together in one spot--an easy target-- without guards, which made it even easier, and then they tried to pull off smart tricks on the others, like surprising them with weaponry. Kurogane could just as easily have done without them. Sure, there were politics to be appeased, but it just seemed like these days the business of running things was taking too much away from the actual running of things. Give him an army to dispatch any day over this crap.

He somehow made it through the entrance ring of guards without a problem. Most of them were Shirasaki staff that had been informed of their fellow's undertaking and had been told not to make a fuss about it. Kurogane rolled his eyes to himself. If they weren't checking for weapons, then chances were that people could be bringing in anything. Damn, trust security to go lax on a night when he had things to do...

The ceremonies for opening the ball got underway, he was introduced to various important people, none of whom really struck him as all that entertaining or dangerous, and as he and Tomoyo made their rounds when he chanced to pass under the display, supposedly of Nihon's teasures, that held his sword, he heard a few people commenting on the design of the hilt and its balance favorably.

He would have liked to inform them of several other aspects about it, or at least look smug, but Tomoyo pulled him on.

"Anything yet?" She whispered, with a tug at his sleeve. He shook his head a fraction. No one yet had seemed extraordinarily suspicious or out of the ordinary.

Tomoyo smiled at him. He wasn't quite sure how to respond: it was one of those dark smiles that meant that she probably had something planned that he was not going to like one bit but was going to have to put up with in order to stay in character, but also one that, oddly, sent a thrill down his spine.

He tried to ignore that last sensation, and waited for her response. Somewhere, music started in the background.

Oh no.

"Come along, duke, we must dance." Tomoyo declared, eyes dancing with the thought of seeing her ninja dance.

Kurogane knew it. He'd have to do it--it's not like you can call off dancing because it might expose the shuriken up your sleeves or because you really detest the sport. Nobles dance.

His mouth was pressed into a thin line, a very angry-looking smile as he nodded, and began to drift around the floor, following his princess' moves as best he could. His training allowed him to be agile enough so that he wasn't tripping over his feet, but he was nowhere near as practiced as to show himself off as a fitting partner for the princess. It was middling performance: if people glanced their way, they were sure to noticed Tomoyo, not him.

Which, basically, was all that he wanted them to notice anyway, so that was alright.

What was not alright was the swarm of people that approached them after the piece was finished, asking if they could take a turn with the princess across the floor. Most definitely not okay was the fact that a certain green lord was amongst the crowd.

"There is something to be said for a man that can dance well, and so show off his partner's beauty and grace," Taro of the Nagashima intoned. "I beg you, my dear princess, allow me to show you."

Kurogane reminded himself that he didn't get to stab the jerk unless he was the killer, and hoped that perhaps fortune would smile on him this one time. Tomoyo laughed, that oddly endearing ohoho, and selected a prince from the Sapphire Isles for the next piece. The disgruntled suitors settled down in a ring around Kurogane, who was utterly baffled as to why at first. But with the questions they asked, their motives became clear.

"So what stroke of luck got you here as Princess Tomoyo's escort for this evening? Has the Duke of Hoshou done some unexpected favor for the country?" Taro mused. Kurogane shrugged, and then did his best to imitate regal speech without sounding like a fool.

"My cousin was taken ill," he paused, knowing that royals liked to speak in abominably long sentences, totally not at peace with his own clipped, to-the-point responses, "and I was sent in his stead to go. I believe Tomoyo-hime felt sorry for the duke and wanted to do him honor, even though he could not be present."

Whew. Damn it, this was more frustrating than picking off scarcely trained assassins that couldn't hide well. At least he enjoyed ending their careers.

"Hmm," Taro thought. "Well, I suppose Hoshou did make a goodly number of allowances, especially with its silver mines. It can't be helped, then."

What the hell? Silver mines? Oh crap, they better not be talking policy now. If that happened, Kurogane knew it would all fall apart about him. So, nonchalantly as he could, he replied, "I prefer not to discuss business at a social occasion."

God, it didn't even sound like him. He withheld a shiver.

Taro nodded, stoically. "Too many people these days don't care about that, the separation between business and pleasure. Why, to half these idiots--" he waved a hand at the crowd lining up to ask for Tomoyo's next dance, "--the whole affair of courting her is one big business tactic."

Kurogane laughed softly. "More than half, no doubt."

Actually, the correct figure was about two-thirds, but he wasn't about to let that drop. Suddenly, Taro said something that actually interested him. "Say, what's going on with that sword over there? It appears that someone's going to give us a demonstration."

"What?"

The word ripped out of Kurogane, and at once he saw what was to happen. A man clad in deep blue was talking to a crowd, trying to wrench Ginryuu free from its brass encasement. To the bystanders, he looked perhaps like an overenthused or bored weapons buff, or maybe an eccentric that had had a little too much of Shirasaki's fine sake, but Kurogane saw it immediately.

He was no assassin, that was for sure: not with his flabby build and robes that could easily be affiliated with one of the houses gathered there, but rather--

"It's a distraction." He muttered, before he could stop himself, and began walking off to a far corner, a corner where his keen eyes had seen--

"I'll agree. It was starting to get dreadfully dull in here." Taro said, eyes alit with something strange. "Are you going to go over and see what it's about?" Then, his eyes narrowed, as he took in the set of Kurogane's face and his hard expression. "Don't I know you from somewhere?"

Ah great. "Some trade meeting."

"Really, I don't remember."

Kurogane rolled his eyes so that the lord couldn't see and said what was on his mind, not caring. "Does anyone remember those?"

Taro blinked. "No, not really. Must be it, then."

It was about at this point, when Kurogane was going at a goodly pace to the man whose blade he'd seen glint for a moment in the shadows, that he realized Taro was still with him. "Aren't you going to try for her next dance?" He said, hoping that his voice wasn't as dripping with venom as it was in his head. He had to take out the attacker before Tomoyo swung by the corner again; their position had shifted from stealth to attack.

He made his way past the man with the sword, and said smoothly. "You shouldn't touch things that don't belong to you."

The man waved him off. "Ah, you Dragons of Hoshou, always getting in the way of everyone's fun. All the silver in the world, and I bet you've never had something as nice as this, have you?"

Tomoyo was in a mass of her suitors as he reached her.

"I'd like the next dance, Your Highness." Taro said, dashing in his green robes, and offering her a slight bow. Once they reached the corner, the man would strike.

So, calmly as could be, Kurogane rounded the corner and caught the assassin in what most people who saw it (there were quite few) described as the way one embraces an old friend who hasn't been seen in a while. Kurogane marched with the man all the way to the door, which, as the few people who cared thought, was probably for meetings between various heads of state. Instead, a goodly number of guardsman waited there to receive the assassin.

"Gotcha."

He came back out into the dance floor, and approached the man who was now trying to find a way out of swinging Ginryuu around, and took the weapon from him.

"Swords belong in the hands of practiced warriors, not statesmen," he said, and much as he would have wanted to show exactly how practiced he was in swordplay, he gently put Ginryuu back in the display as the disappointed onlookers dispersed. The man, no doubt, would be receiving some inquires from the guards soon enough.

A hand gripped his shoulder and Kurogane spun around to see...

Taro.

"I saw your little stunt back there," he said in a low voice. "I've heard that Hoshou royalty gets military training at a young age, but I couldn't have seen that coming. I was going to divert them, but it looks like you got there first."

Kurogane did all he could to restrain himself from bursting out. He looked like he was surprised, but still holding onto a brooding exterior.

"Ah well, I suppose this makes us rivals, then. May the best man win." The lord said, hint of a smile on his lips.

"I..." Kurogane fished for words, as a nasty thought surfaced in his head. "Suppose so."

Taro had never said that he was trying to marry Tomoyo for the money.

Title: Fai and Kurogane's Super Fun Excellent Shopping Experience
Fandom: Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle
Characters: Fai, Kurogane, the Mall
Prompt: o18. Black
Word Count: 2539
Rating: PG13
Summary: All Kurogane wants is to find clothes that he likes and be done with it. Fai, however, has other plans.
Author's Notes: I have been meaning to write this for so long. It wasn't supposed to end up being all massive, but I am very glad it did.

There's something to be said for getting what you want. Maybe not all of the time, but in some cases, Kurogane felt that he was completely justified in putting his foot down. Everyone had some areas that they would absolutely not budge in and this was it.

"But, Kuro-bun! It's so pretty on you! Why on earth don't you like it?"

Kurogane shuddered. Pretty? On a murderous, blood-wallowing, if-looks-could-kill ninja? No, pretty was not something you wanted there. Dashing, perhaps, or maybe elegant and deadly, but pretty would not cut it.

"I want it black. It's not black."

Was it really so much to ask? Looking at the ruffled, white collar shirt that Fai had picked out made him feel like they'd gone back to visit that fairy tale town all over again.

Fai pouted. "Alright, fine. We'll just have to find something else that suits our Kuro-pippi."

Kurogane surveyed the store. Rows and rows of clothes lined every wall, weird, tall people with blank faces stopped every so often wearing a particular outfit. It was creepy.

If there was anything he really hated about this world-travel business, it was the fact that everyone seemed so eager to change clothes with each place they went to. He would have been happy just keeping his tradition wear, but no, it stood out too much. Kurogane scowled at a nearby mannequin, as though it were the source of his troubles.

Meanwhile, Fai approached a sales person. "Hello!" He greeted her amiably. "We're looking for clothes that are all black. I don't suppose that you have a section of them here?"

The woman responded that they had a formalwear section, but as for casual clothes, those were scattered all throughout the store. Fai sighed, a little downcast.

"Ah, so they're not organizing the selection by color here. Hyuu, Kuro-pon, this is going to be more difficult than the last time." A smile broadened his features. "This just means we'll have to look through every rack!"

Frowning even more pronouncedly, Kurogane came to the conclusion that his prospects for finding clothes he liked had begun to look black. And not in the good way. The longer they stayed in here searching, the less time he had for his sanity to hold out.

Fai placed a mountain of clothes before him to try on. They ranged from way too dressy for him to fight effectively in to so tightly fitting he didn't think he'd be able to wear armor without it getting in the way. It made him wonder about what sort of priorities these people in this country had, if they let fashion get in the way of their survival. Maybe they got attacked if they weren't dressed right?

It put him on edge. Not having a sword strapped to his waist at all times made him nervous. Mentally, he reaffirmed the locations of all the exits in his head and looked around for what could be used as weapons if an attacker came at them from up close--

"Kuro-tan, you're not paying attention again. Maybe we should just get all these clothes and then you can try them on at home?" Fai said innocently, yet deviously knowing how much that would set the ninja off. Silently fuming, Kurogane grabbed a handful of what looked like the least repulsive and went to go try them on.

This shopping thing was so odd.

Back in Nihon, he'd have tailors made his clothing, or he'd see fabric that could easily be fashioned into something, purchase that, and then have someone else make it. Other than that, most of his things were standard Shirasaki issue, so the palace would replace them and keep him with extras. All this choosing and designing didn't make sense to him. Clothing was practical, unless you were royalty. And it definitely didn't follow that absolutely everyone here was a member of one royal bloodline or another.

When he finished dressing, he stared at himself in the mirror. Ugh.

He must have been silent for too long, because Fai knocked on the door. "Come on, open up, Kuro-run! I want to see what you look like!"

Kurogane was suddenly very thankful that the doors on these compartments had locks.

What on earth had the mage been thinking when he'd chosen this for him? It was shirt that had buttons straight up the front--which, any armor-wearing warrior would tell you, were sure to press uncomfortably against him when he wore a breastplate-- and a weird puffy collar at the top. He quickly shirked it off and tried the next piece on.

He figured that it was best to not even try to find himself another pair of pants. The ones he currently had seemed to go along with everything he had just fine, and it was nice to be able to hold onto something that reminded him of home. Even if it was just a pair of pants.

Small things, Kurogane supposed, small things.

The shirts after that didn't go much better. Some had odd designs on them that Kurogane thought were probably magical symbols (and given his recent run-ins with magical symbols, didn't want to have any more of them clinging to him than necessary), others that didn't seem like they were all there, and still others that must have come from the scribes' or diplomats' sections rather than one for working ninjas. (Fai had mentioned that this world didn't have ninjas in it, but Kurogane didn't believe him for a moment. The mark of a good ninja was that you didn't know he was there to begin with in the first place. Clearly, the mage was no good at spotting them.)

Kurogane hadn't exactly seen them around either, but that just meant that they were extremely good. Hell, he figured, they probably even had secret stores hidden around in nooks and crannies that he and the magician were obviously missing.

He made a note to check more into these when he got the opportunity.

At last, he exited the changing room, deposited the clothes back into the cart that Fai had been wheeling around and that point-blank that he hated them all. The magician looked put out for a moment, but then that unquashable happiness returned, and he said something that made Kurogane's hair stand on end.

"Oh, that's okay, Kuro-min! We're in a mall!"

Malls, in Kurogane's experience, were terrible things invented to inconvenience people that had nothing better to do with their time and to take delight in hiding things that people needed most from those that sought it. They also contained enough stores to drive him crazy somewhere around five times over.

So, before he could protest, or even cause enough of a scene so that the wizard would feel obliged to take him back to their living quarters and let him sit it out until they found the feather and could at last leave this place, Fai dragged him on.

The smell of fresh pretzels being cooked lured Fai in as they tried to walk past (well, as Kurogane tried to direct Fai past), and so they stopped so that they could spend some of Sakura's hard-earnt gambling money on a treat. Once this was taken care of, they continued walking.

"Hyuu, going shopping with food in your stomach always makes everything better, doesn't it, Kuro-pon?"

"No."

"Mmm. Nice and salty." Fai licked his lips happily. "Oh, hey! That store looks like it might be nice, want to go in?"

"No." Kurogane replied again, convinced there was nothing to be had there.

"Alright, come on then!"

"Did you even hear what I was saying?"

"Yup!" Fai nodded merrily, and pulled him to the entrance.

Inside, the place seemed dark and hollow. The only light came from occasional lamp peeking through above a display. The racks where clothing was hung seemed to be made out of wood, that looked like someone had recently felled it in a forest and used it straight from chopping as furniture. Something loud was pulsing through the room, and Kurogane instantly felt himself go on the defensive.

Fai plucked some items from the shelves, as Kurogane wandered, staring at the pictures placed throughout the store. A lot of them seemed to be people on endless shorelines, lazing about or swimming in the water.

"What the hell are all these supposed to mean?" He muttered. Fai looked over at him.

"Oh, the pictures? I'm really not sure either, Kuro-moo."

He cast him a withering glare. "Stop calling me those damn nicknames, already. This is serious. Why aren't there houses in any of these pictures? Do you think that these are countrymen of the people that run this establishment?"

Fai gasped. "Perhaps."

Kurogane continued. "It might be unlikely, but maybe something happened to them that they have this pictures up, as a warning. Maybe a tsunami," he considered. Those occasionally happened in Nihon and had been known to do great damage.

"Maybe they're trying to rebuild these people's old town, then!" Fai concluded. "Poor things, it looks like the sea really took away everything. I can't see a trace of their buildings, can you?"

Kurogane inspected all the pictures he could find, and shook his head.

"Well then," Fai said triumphantly, "I think we'll just have to get all these to try and support those poor people." Kurogane couldn't really refuse. Hell, it wasn't his money that they were wasting, not that he tended to really care about money. Shirasaki kept him on a good retainer, and there wasn't much in the way of supplies that he needed to worry about, save the yearly offerings to his parents and the occasional sword polish for Ginryuu.

They left, bags in hand, the cashiers looking a little askance when Fai had wished them the best of luck with the reconstruction, and were off once more before Fai got sidetracked again.

"Saa, Kuro-tan, what is that wonderful smell?"

Kurogane sighed and dragged a hand through his hair. "Don't tell me you're hungry again."

"Nyah, it's not that. It's..." He trailed off, stopping again. "Don't you smell that?"

Kurogane sniffed the air skeptically, waiting for something miraculous to happen. It didn't. All that occurred was that it smelled a little nicer here than it had a few paces ago. Was this shocking?

Fai grabbed ahold of his sleeve again and pulled him into another store. "Come on! We've got to go check this out."

They entered the shopfront, to see shelves lining the walls filled with bottles, and various kinds of potions stacked elegantly on glass tables down the center of the store. A salesperson greeted them, although a little surprised to see two men looking for things together, he showed them around. Kurogane quickly figured out that this was some place where one could buy ointments and liquids to make one smell better, and, out of sheer curiosity (and the fact that Fai was having the man explain something to him that appeared to be very long and complicated), started to poke around.

Most of the smells were fairly ordinary: one smelt like decomposing plants, which Kurogane thought was a little strange, but supposed that there must be a demand for it somewhere, perhaps as camouflage. He grinned. Perhaps he'd have to try that out sometime...

But the thing that really caught his attention was something that smelled to him, just like Nihon did, or more specifically, just like a certain princess of Nihon happened to: like a warm summer night with petals floating on the breeze--

"Japanese Cherry Blossom." Fai read off the small bottle and cocked an eyebrow. "Well, I heard the guy say it's their most popular scent, but typically it's girls that buy it..." He cut himself off. "Ah, well Kuro-rin! Just do what makes you happy."

And so, they left that strange place of smells with two bottles, one thing that Fai apparently needed for his magics ("There are so many kinds of magic, Kuro-pon! I'm surprised that you still don't realize that.") and the one that Kurogane had found so alluring.

It was comforting, he thought. Not alluring. It was a reminder that somewhere home still existed somewhere, and that the rest of his life wouldn't be spent being dragged all over the universe and into stores, just like Fai was doing again...

Only this time, it was a different kind of store.

Young children ran excitedly from one end of the store to the other, picking out animals and then putting the stuffing into them as other adults shepherded them and helped them choose names. Fai, whom Kurogane was starting to believe was just one big child at heart, pulled him toward the first station.

"Aww, come on, Kuro-bun, please! We have to do this."

Kurogane sighed. Any more of this shopping business and he was going to quit. Just like those old geezers out there whose people had abandoned them for all eternity as they sat on those couches outside the windows. He would go and join their clan and get away from all this. But then, he had another idea.

"Fine. But only if you promise me that this is the last place we're stopping."

Fai nodded solemnly, which then turned into an enthusiastic nod as he sped off to go choose what animal he wanted to make. Picking out a soft rabbit, he stroked its long ears delightedly.

"Alright, now you choose one, Kuro-nan!"

The ninja frowned. Ninja, he told himself, did not go to places like this to make stuffed animals. They would go here to spy on the children of targets and perhaps followed them home, but to actually go to a place like this for enjoyment seemed like the exact contrary thing to do if he wanted to ingratiate himself with the ninja of this world and find where they kept their secret shopping centers.

But, he sighed, going over to the animal racks to the wizard's cheers, hell, what were the chances he was going to run into them anyway?

He selected a spotted dog, and joined Fai in the line waiting for stuffing, oddly aware that he was just about the tallest person in the store.

At last, when they finally made it back home, Kurogane was exhausted. This day had just taken way too much out of him. He sighed, put down the containers with their stuffed animals, the bag of scents, and then the clothes bags.

Curious, he opened the bags, to see what the magician had bought to support the people without houses on the beaches. He looked through one bag, and then the next, and the next, until...

Damn it! Not a thing in any of the bags was black.

Title: Long Distance
Fandom: Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle
Characters: Kurogane, Fai, Sakura, Syaoran, Mokona
Prompt: o91. Birthday
Word Count: 880
Rating: PG13
Summary: Kurogane thinks that just because it's hard to count days in time and space that no one would figure out his birthday. How silly of him to think that.
Author's Notes: KxT if you look for it. But, cute. Heart-warming, I think. I've done a lot of heart-warming stuff lately. Hmmm....

He glanced at the scroll of paper he'd been using to keep track of the days. He wasn't even sure if time flowed the same way any more here, but, if it did, then today was the day. He was really quite miffed that she'd kept him away like this, and hadn't, not even as a gift to him, rescinded his banishment and allowed him to come back home.

He sighed. What a happy birthday this was turning out to be.

It had been his worst fear that any of the others would find out, though, happily, with the dragonfly race dawning soon over the horizon, they hadn't been paying too much attention to things other than learning to pilot and keep themselves airborne without falling. They were slowly getting better, but it was still going to be long haul to winning the race. The only good this about it, he reasoned, was that with four people they at least had something of a chance at winning the silly thing.

And, luckily, they wouldn't know about it.

It was just...he'd been hoping, foolishly, that perhaps Tomoyo would want him back. Maybe she'd miss him on his birthday and would see that he'd done enough, had to go through more than his share of trouble, and that taking him out of it now would be great. Even for just the day.

Pulling on his boots, slacks, and scarf (the latter he really didn't understand why was so necessary to flying around, but they were trying to fit in again, and so they all wore them), he stifled a yawn. But, then, leaving these three to try to galavant across worlds on their own...

Kurogane was presented, courtesy of his imagination, with a strikingly vivid picture of the wizard haplessly dragging the kids off into uncertain lands and certain doom, laughing all the way. He frowned. Guess he was just going to have to stick with it, then. Stupid moral obligations.

Ploncking the googles (also standard fly-wear) on top of his head, he took a quick look at himself in the mirror before heading down. He almost thought for a moment that he could see Tomoyo's face ohoho-ing at him, but that was absurd. He cast a disapproving look back at the glass before departing, though, just in case.

He checked for Syaoran outside, expecting the boy to be fiddling about with the machinery, but found nothing, not even a scrap of paper telling him that they'd all gone shopping for new parts. Sakura wasn't in the kitchen or in sleeping in her room, or even careening around in the sky (which was pretty ease to notice), and he couldn't find Fai anywhere. Damn, he must have gotten up much later than he'd thought...

Deciding against continuing the fruitless hunt, he sat down at a table outside, and, after a little while of this, went to go work on his car.

A few minutes later, he was disturbed from his work by the sound of a glass dropping to the ground. Suddenly, his training and experience took over and he found himself croutched behind his racer, ready to spring at the intruder should they present themselves a target outside.

Nothing happened.

He waited some more.

Still nothing.

He gave up, and marched back into the house, ready to take out anyone he found trespassing and get as much information out of them as possible.

Instead of a break-in, he found...

A cake, with letters written on it in red and purple, and three people smiling at him and shouting "Surprise!"

He hastily sheathed Sohi, and tried not to look like he'd been on the verge of killing people.

"Saa, Syaoran-kun, I told you he'd think we were going to attack him and take it the wrong way."

The boy sighed, and Sakura smiled up at him, a party hat titled askew on her head. "Happy Birthday, Kurogane!"

The ninja was mystified. "But how did you all know?" And where the hell had that cake come from? Was cake a tradition or something? He typically got taken out for sushi at his favorite restaurant, not presented with sweets and more sugar than his body could handle. Man, these worlds were weird.

Sakura tapped her forehead knowledgeably. "I had a dream a few nights ago--"

Kurogane shook his head, running a hand through his hair. She didn't have to say any more. It was pretty easy to figure out the work of a dreamseer once you saw it in action.

And, as he blew out the candles and Mokona jumped out of the cake, freaking him out to no end (in what, strangely enough, was one more tradition they had him do--and one he found he slightly enjoyed--the candle-blowing out, not the pork bun surprise-- and found himself wondering maybe if he could get candles in his sushi next year), he couldn't help but think of a princess far, far away, and the fact that she had remembered his birthday.

That, he considered, as he dutifully took a bite of his cake, mattered more than anything else.

Title: Last Obstacles to Surpass
Fandom: Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle
Characters: Kurogane, Syaoran
Prompt: o38. Touch
Word Count: 599
Rating: PG
Summary: As they race to free Sakura from Fei Wong Reed's clutches, Kurogane falls into a trap that starts to turn him to stone.
Author's Notes: I really want to see what'll happen at the end! I was kind of sad, since it looks like I'll finish the table before Tsubasa finishes (but that's for the best! Really!) but I thought, if this scene is in there, I have to write about it! So, I made the scene.

The kid scuttled over the bricks, dashing to the other side of the room before the spell started to take effect. Kurogane, though, wasn't so lucky.

He gasped, as he found that he could no longer move his legs, let alone feel his legs, and that he seemed to be effectively rooted to the floor. Pulling at his tighs, trying to wrench them free, his fingers, tight with nerves, dug into his flesh to no avail. His feet had already turned to stone. Blood left his complexion when he came to the unhappy conclusion.

He was stuck.

Syaoran, realizing what was happening, was about to move back across the floor when Kurogane shouted to him not to. It didn't look like the spell had worn off the tiles yet, and besides, he said with a rueful grin, it certainly didn't look like there was much help for him now. The stonification was already spreading up his calves and didn't seem to be lessening.

It really didn't feel that bad, not good, just like nothing. Like his legs from the calf down had both fallen asleep--not pain, or pins and needles, but rather a sense of nonfeeling, like the affected areas just had ceased to exist any more.

He saw something weakening in the boy's face, and knew he had to stop it. If the kid was going to be strong enough to defeat Fei Wong, then he'd need to get over this. The magician had already gotten caught in the first of the traps they'd run across, sealed in a shard of ice, unmoving. They'd tried to get him out, but to no avail. It dawned on Kurogane that the kid's facing Fei Wong alone might have been the original intention.

"Look, kid, you can't just give up now, that's like telling him to his face that he's won."

Syaoran looked up at him hopelessly.

"But Kurogane-san, I can't just let you and Fai--"

"Tsh. To hell with me and Fai," Kurogane responded, as the stone barked up his stomach and torso. He wondered offhand whether his heart would stop once the stone covered it. Blood pounded more furiously through his chest as though in a desperate effort to stop it, to disprove the thing. Damn it, there was nothing he could do. Nothing but...

"We both knew what we were getting into from the start. What's really important is that you save that princess of yours. You got that, kid?" He asked.

Syaoran nodded, trademark determination washing over his face.

"Kurogane-san..."

"Hey," he rasped, as stone crept up his arms. "Did I train you to hesitate when something important's at stake?"

Syaoran shook his head. Kurogane felt cold, so cold, like his head was floating on a sea of nothingness...

"Then get going. After you've got this under control, worry about getting us out. We trust you, kid."

Once that was said, the greatest ninja of Nihon had to offer gave his pupil one of the rarest things in the world: a true smile.

"Go get those bastards."

And with that, the stone closed over his face and froze it just like that, smiling, in a cast of grey marble.

Syaoran stood for a long moment, staring at his former mentor, then, turning on his heel with resolve etched into his face and fire in his eyes, walked onward to Fei Wong Reed's chambers, where he would put an end to this dream, once and for all.

Title: Suwa Dragon Pride
Fandom: Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle
Characters: Kurogane, his Kudan, some Hanshin punks
Prompt: o27. Parents
Word Count: 120
Rating: PG
Summary: Kurogane finds something to be proud of in his Kudan.
Author's Notes: I just had to write this. This is one of the reasons why Kurogane is one of my favorite characters (perhaps my actual favorite now, that I've read both his and Fai's pasts) in Tsubasa. And also slightly ever.

And here he was, thinking all this time that being in the Hashin Republic or whatever was going to suck.

His Kudan wasn't something to scoff at, and something that he took great delight in showing off. The dragon unfurled its wings about him majestically, daring any of his attackers to come and get it. Kurogane liked this guy. He understood how to get things done.

But the best part had come when the creature had turned itself into a sword for him.

A sword, he'd thought, as he'd tentatively taken ahold of it, made out of dragon?

He grinned dangerously at the punks who swarmed around him.

Oh hell yes.

His parents would be so proud.

Fri, 25 Jul 2008 18:47:01 GMT

Title: But not a movie.
Fandom: It's been a bad week.
Characters: Steve Punt, Hugh Dennis.
Prompt: 058, Dinner
Word Count: 635
Rating: PG.
Summary: Stuck out in the sticks Hugh and Steve attempt to enjoy some time together.
Author's Notes: This is broadly set during the chap's tour a couple of years back. Technically that puts it a while after the last series of Bad Week, but nae mind.
Dislaimer: All of this story is a complete fiction and does not reflect on the people whose public images I have misappropriated thus.

‘Yes, table for two please.’ Steve confirmed to the pimple-faced waitress, whose uniform hung oddly off her sharp shoulders a clear sign it was inherited from a larger previous employee. She blinked in surprise, for it was getting late and there were only three other customers in the restaurant, then stifled an impertinent shrug and asked them to follow her. They exchanged dubious glances, the unspoken sarcastic remark about service louder between them in the silence than it would have been if they’d said it.

They sat and had a heavy leather-bound folder dropped on the table before them. The gold writing on the front read ‘men’ with the paint flaked out of the ‘u’ shaped indent in the sticky hide. The other diners were eating in silence, lending an unusually sombre air to the place. ‘I’ve been to my fair share of mediocre eateries in my time, but this… this takes the biscuit.’ Hugh remarked sotto voce, Steve ignored him in favour of looking at the menu.

The silence stretched out between them, punctuated by the occasional subdued clatter of cutlery and Hugh started trying to read the menu upside down. He was startled from his contemplation of what the cutlets (no meat named) would be like by a quiet voice, ‘You’re the one who wanted to go out after the show.’

He sighed at Steve’s weary statement. It was true that he’d made the suggestion and defended it unusually determinedly, even though he wasn’t bothered about what or where they ate. It had been a while since it had been just the two of them and although it was a bit girly to admit to it, Hugh had missed just being with Steve.

The waitress arrived with some drinks and went through the menu telling them which dishes weren’t available at that time of night. By process of elimination they arrived at the only thing on the menu that sounded edible and the chef was willing to cook for them. The pair of them exhaled another hard-used sigh at the end of that ordeal and turned to their drinks only to discover they weren’t the ones they’d ordered.

As they waited for the food to arrive the two men watched the waitress as she wandered from table to table snuffing the candles out between her thumb and index finger. She licked the pad of her thumb and forefinger and bent over, pinching each wick. They hissed and gave up a small billow of acrid smoke as each one was extinguished. Occasionally she coughed a chesty bark of a cough before an incomprehensible shout was heard from the door behind Steve and Hugh’s table and she squeezed by to produce two plates of something unrecognisable. ‘There you go sirs! Enjoy your meal!’ she chirped and went over to the far end of the restaurant where she produced a can of Pledge and a duster, as she polished she hummed ‘living for the weekend’. The contrast between her manner half an hour earlier and at that moment was striking, but neither man commented on it as they cautiously navigated their plates. They were hungry and nowhere else was open.

‘God, I can feel the heartburn already.’ Hugh groused under his breath as they wandered down the main street of the village, hearing the waitress locking up behind them.

‘In that case, do you want to come in for a nightcap to settle your stomach?’ Steve asked, ignoring the grumpy landlady’s previous lecture about ‘not wanting any of that monkey business in my respectable establishment’. He paused in the act of unlocking his room and turned to Hugh, eyebrows raised. It was very nearly as subtle as asking him in for coffee.

Hugh grinned and was inside before Steve could ask again. Things were looking up.

Torchwood :: Owen/Martha :: 032. Sunset

Fri, 25 Jul 2008 14:24:57 GMT

Title: Lick Your Own Wounds
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Martha, Owen; Jack, Ianto, Mickey, Gwen
Prompt: 032. Sunset
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3340
Summary: Martha thinks about telling him that she’s only joined Torchwood because it’s slightly less sociopathic than UNIT, and then realises that Jack probably already knows.
Author’s Notes: Spoilers for Exit Wounds and Journey’s End.

House MD :: Chase/Wilson :: 095. New Year

Fri, 25 Jul 2008 14:23:20 GMT

Title: My Mistress’ Sparrow Is Dead
Fandom: House MD
Characters: Wilson, Chase, House, Cameron, Foreman, Thirteen
Prompt: 095. New Year
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 5105
Summary: Wilson is… well, no one is sure what Wilson is doing but it’s probably not healthy.
Author’s Notes: Spoilers for S4; this is a tie-in for Wilson’s Heart. Cuz I’m excessively morbid at the moment.

Elemental Who. 082. If.

Fri, 25 Jul 2008 14:05:22 GMT

Title: I Wonder
Fandom: The Elemental Who
Characters: Keith and John
Prompt: 082. If.
Word Count: 490
Rating: G(Fan rating K)
Summary: "So how did Curious Carl wear out the hyperactive Keith Moon?"

I Wonder

My Tables

Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle :: Kurogane :: o43. Square || o6o. Drink || o29. Birth || o36. Smell

Fri, 25 Jul 2008 04:20:27 GMT

:: Ever-growing Table ::

Title: Just Two Squares in a Circle's World
Fandom: Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle
Characters: Kurogane, Fai
Prompt: o43. Square
Word Count: 788
Rating: PG13
Summary: Fai wonders and worries about where he and Kurogane stand compared to all the other characters of Tsubasa.
Author's Notes: Spoilers! A little piece on how it feels to be one of the two original characters of Tsubasa.

Fai sat alone with Kurogane at a table of the house, and sighed. The ninja looked over questioningly.

Raising his hand to brush away a strand of hair, the magician spoke.

"Do you ever get the feeling that we're sort of just squares?"

Kurogane was about to comment that both he and the mage looked like perfectly normal human beings, when Fai decided it was better to explain himself.

"I mean, do you get the sense that we both don't fit in with the world?"

Kurogane thought this over. He was a former member of Princess Tomoyo's guard, whose right arm was made out of steel and strange metal wires. It was pretty useful, but he wasn't exactly received as a run-of-the-mill denizen of Shirasaki any more. His companion was a wizard who didn't practice practical magic and had recently been turned into a vampire to save his life. Okay, maybe they weren't normal, strictly speaking.

The ninja shrugged. "We seem alright in this company."

And that was true. They had a blind-eyed boy and a sleepy princess who talked to plants and inanimate objects, so they didn't stand out too much.

"But that's exactly what I'm talking about!" Fai interjected, throwing his hands up. "It seems like we're the only people who don't change in each world we visit, like your princess," he mentioned, "Or that don't have clones of ourselves walking around and pretending to be us."

He crossed his arms, and frowned, which didn't look very serious.

Kurogane shrugged. "So? You've got a twin." Well, had, really. It had been pretty emotional, but the magician had at last been able to lay his twin to rest. Fai considered, silently and then responded.

"Saa, but that's not the same thing. With Fai and I...it was like we knew close to what each other was thinking, but not sharing each other's memories, but even then! Twins are more common than clones."

Kurogane didn't understand why this was such a big deal. "So, what's your point? I've never had a twin, or a clone, or anyone else who looks like me, and I don't feel anything weird about it." Personally, he liked having just him around. If there were too many more of him, he'd probably have to kill some off. But, considering how well-trained they'd probably be, it would be a challenge. He grinned, and absently thought that that would be a good way to test out his skills.

Shaking his head, Fai inquired, "Really? You don't feel weird at all? Even though it seems like throughout all the worlds, we're the only two original people out there?"

"Original?" Kurogane repeated, as though tasting the word. He wasn't so sure about them being the only ones that didn't have copies--he hadn't seen another person like the witch or Fei Wong Reed, so there were two more than them. But being "original"?

"What's the big deal? So you're not like everyone else because you're not repeated all over each world. Personally, I don't think I could stand running into more of you each time we travel, even if they're different people. They'd all probably end up being just as annoying. And you having a clone is not something I want to be around for."

Fai considered. "Saaa, but what if Fei Wong has clones of us when we finally get to him?"

Kurogane shivered. Fighting his own clone would be cool, but seeing another Fai? Ugh. He was starting to get used to having one magician around, now that Fai had finally gotten through most of the baggage that he'd been carrying around with him. More angsty wizards to cause him woe and misfortune? Absolutely not. He only had one real arm, and he wasn't intending to lose it saving anyone else from self-pity.

"What's so bad about being the only ones that are us anyway? There's a lot less confusion." Kurogane responded, once the horrors of an army of cloned Fai's had feld his mind.

The magician mused on this for a while, and grinned.

"Alright. I suppose if I'm going to be singled out with you, it can't be that bad."

Kurogane rolled his eyes. Honestly. The way that mage was talking, you'd think this meant the world to him, having someone to be with.

But, he thought as he flexed the mechanical digits of his right hand, maybe that was just what it was after all.

Title: Blood Will Out
Fandom: Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle
Characters: Fai, Kurogane
Prompt: o60. Drink
Word Count: 556
Rating: PG13
Summary: Fai and Kurogane have a conversation over drinks. Well, actually, drink.
Author's Notes: Spoilers! Spoilers, spoilers, spoilers! Ch 182 +~

The cut was neat, orderly, about as unmessy as you can make a gash wound cut by a sword. Kurogane had to hand to himself: he was pretty good when it came to handling swords.

Blood trickled steadily down his arm, a red river arching off into lines and veins, like divergent trails on a map, all ending at different destinations.

He looked over at the magician who was eying the cut eagerly.

Ever since the vampire transformation, Kurogane had become less and less fond of these feeding, or rather drinking, sessions. He'd heard people tell tales of vampires in his country, and as he traveled, Fai had talked to him about various types of vampire literature that he seemed to come across.

It was odd, Kurogane remembered, flipping through some of the books. A lot of them made it seem like feeding a vampire was some sort of moment of religious ecstasy, or the forming of some pact between a human and an evil being. They didn't talk about how blood vessels have a tendency to spurt when cut, or how the fluid has a predilection to spread everywhere and get all over everything, or how uninvigorating it was.

He glanced at Fai, drinking from the wound.

It was really like having a giant piranha attached to your arm, he concluded. A giant, friendly, magical piranha. He frowned at the analogy.

"The witch says that as soon as we get your eye back, you'll be able to stop having to do this," he commented. It tended to get sort of awkward, one of them relaxing and the other feasting hungrily on his arm, so Kurogane occasionally threw out a remark. "That'll be nice."

Fai drew back, sated, and took a cloth he reserved for that purpose from his pockets to wipe off his lips.

"Do you really mind so much?" He asked, innocently. Or, well, as innocently as a vampire wiping blood off his lips could get.

"Well, it's not like you can come back and stay with me in Nihon."

It was pretty true. He had duties to attend to, and a constant drain on his blood supply wasn't going to be good for him to stay on top of his duties.

"Besides," Kurogane continued, "didn't you say that you wanted to travel around all the worlds that there were?" It had been out of necessity at the time, as Fai's old lord, Ashura-ou, had been haunting his former world, but now the ninja wondered how much the magician's plans had changed.

Fai shrugged. "I guess so. I'm not sure what I really want to do, but..." He gave it some thought, and then a smile lit up his face. "Why not? Travelling around place to place is fun! I like getting to see all these different people and wear different clothes--" he cut himself off, something evidently on his mind.

Kurogane sighed, knowing what he would have to say.

"Yeah, yeah, you can come visit. I think those kids would be heartbroken if they didn't see you sometimes, too."

He hoped the mage didn't stay too long, though. He had a feeling Fai knew more about what was going on between him and Tomoyo-hime than he wanted to admit.

Title: Dragon and Phoenix
Fandom: Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle
Characters: Kurogane
Prompt: o29. Birth
Word Count: 143
Rating: PG
Summary: He has always been full of opposites.
Author's Notes: Spoilerific! Quick little drabble on how Kurogane seems to live throughout his life.

What you had to understand about Kurogane was his capacity for bringing together opposites, and his tendencies to go through birth and rebirth while he dealt death mercilessly to those who were brave enough to be his enemies.

When the House of Suwa fell and the lordly holdings he was born into fell along with them, he made himself into something greater than what he had been, eradicating monsters that had plagued the land he'd grown up in. From the ashes of his old life, he rose through the ranks of the Shirasaki ninjas, until none could touch him. When banished, he learnt; when forced to make hard choices, he made them, always the dragon unrelenting, always the phoenix rising from the dust of its past.

He was always a man of opposites: water and fire, dragon and phoenix, death and rebirth.

Title: The Games You Play
Fandom: Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle
Characters: Kurogane, Tomoyo
Prompt: o36. Smell
Word Count: 1304
Rating: PG13
Summary: Kurogane presents himself for duty and finds a tricky job awaiting him.
Author's Notes: KuroTomo, Ch. 4!

He woke up with his nose twitching. Hastily exiting once he was dressed and armed, once more through the window, Kurogane didn't think he'd ever been happier to leave a room in his entire life. It was late morning, early afternoon, and he felt refreshed. The clear, crisp scent of the high air of Shirasaki's rooftops baking in the sun wafted up to him, and he spent a few moments just sitting there, aware that he was no longer being pelted with the biting odors of the past night.

As soon as he reported in at the front entrance, he was shocked at the number of people that were milling around the main hall. It seemed like each surrounding country had sent a delegation over, and that each of these groups must have contained at least an assortment of fifteen people. Palace host staff were busily directing the different groups to their respective rooms, and Kurogane hoped that the maids got to the Bronze Suite before the guests did.

But, hell, not his problem any more. He'd done his good deed for the day yesterday, which was so odious that it really ought to cover for today, too. All this generousity of character was making him queasy. He really needed to go out there tonight and slice some people up to make up for that.

And, judging by this gathering, there was bound to be some action on the roof happening tonight.

Reassured by that thought, he made his way through the crowd, taking pleasure in shoving the most important-looking people out of his way and generally making a nusiance of himself until he got where he wanted to go. Kurogane tended to be a very practical person. When there was a problem, he went to the source and either killed it or made peace with it. Typically the former, though exceptions were made.

Currently, the problem was his strange attitude towards Princess Tomoyo. So, the only thing to do would be to go see the princess and find out what was making him feel so badly about her association with this damn Taro guy. He'd had a dozen opportunities to kill her already (Souma was alright, but surely couldn't protect the princess as efficiently as he could), and nothing had come of it.

What was it with him anyway? Yeah, that lord was an ass, but that hadn't made him unleash his fury on anyone else (well, mostly not anyone else) that visited. Kurogane had a pretty thick skin; he was used to people not approving of what he did or the way in which he did it. What was it about this lord in particular that set him off?

He was about to reach Tomoyo-hime's doors when he was suddenly bombarded with a torrent of cherry blossoms. That, and while he reeled from the sudden fragrance-- his nose must have gotten overly sensitive from staying in that room all night (damn it, who could be scared of a murderous ninja with nasal problems? No one, that's who.) -- he was knocked into a wall by the bearer.

A train of ladies in waiting passed by him, each wearing that distinctive scent. Ugh. He had to use all of his training not to cover his nose, it was so overpowering. Great. This day was certainly looking up.

Reaching the princess' chambers, he rapped quickly on the door, desiring to be let in as soon as possible. The door opened just a little bit, and, tired of all this damn waiting, Kurogane forced it the rest of the way and made his way through.

He was about halfway to opening the next door, the one that led directly to the room where Tomoyo was when he happened to hear what the maids around him were shouting:

"Her Highness is changing! Oooh, don't let a man go in there!"

Kurogane's face turned several interesting shades of red, and he swiftly marched out the way he'd came and waited by the first set of doors again, like some grim-looking gargoyle.

Eventually, someone came to fetch him.

Trying to regain as much of his dignity as possible, and pretend that he hadn't just almost walked in on his ruler in a state of undress, Kurogane put on an aloof face, as though bored. Secretly, he hoped that Tomoyo hadn't seen this all happening before in a dream.

When he caught sight of her face, she had raised the hem of her robe, decorated with delicate cranes on a regal purple background, to her eyes and was doing her best to suppress a gale of laughter. Kurogane's aloofness transformed into a grimace.

Who needed foresight when you had a legion of giggling maids?

"Ohoho! Good morning, Kurogane. Have you been informed of the change in your duties tonight?"

Change? The shift in his features from annoyed to worse was evident. Kurogane didn't like it when things changed without his notice. Especially when they were things that directly pertained to whether or not he would be able to slice and dice intruders at his pleasure tonight.

Tomoyo continued, "There's to be a grand ball held for various honorable personages to celebrate another year's renewal of trade contracts and the peace accords my sister has been working to cement through the land. It's held at a different palace each year. Surely you remember escorting my carriage to these parties over the years?"

A grin crept back onto his face, even though he was trying to appear less than thrilled with the prospect of guarding a dance party. Yeah, he remembered. He recalled the scent of night grass wet with dew as the caravan of carriages sped through the evening, wind whipping past his face as he sat perched on top of Tomoyo's carriage, eyes roving the darkness for any unwise bandits that would dare to attack...

He nodded.

"I would like you to be my personal guard."

Eyes snapping open, the words flew out of his mouth before he had a chance to consider whether he wanted to speak them or not.

"Not Souma?"

"No," Tomoyo said, contentedly, "I think I can trust you not to lose your temper so radically around my guests. After all, it's going to be my duty to dance with a good number of them. Also, given the information we've recently retrieved last night, it seems likely that someone will try to make another attempt there." This last sentence was said with all the calm of one mentioning that the plants needed watering, rather than that they had received news of another assassination scheme.

"If anything should occur, I want the matter to be resolved quickly and without calling attention to it."

"So is that it, you just want me to guard you at this dance?" He asked, but as soon as the words left his mouth, he knew they were wrong. Something had smelled fishy about this thing from the very start...

Kurogane's eyes narrowed, and the princess' expression confirmed it.

"No. You're not telling me something about this." He ventured, only to see her dissolve into another string of ohoho's before being able to answer him. His eyes lingered perhaps too long on the jovial twist to her lips and the delicate poise in her hand, cocked slightly in front of her mouth before he tore them away.

She confirmed his fears with a single statement.

"As per our treaties, there are no soldiers are to be allowed inside the main ballroom where the dancing is held. So, in order for you to effectively guard me inside, you will serve as my escort for the evening."

The Red Sox. Jon Lester/Clay Buchholz/Josh Beckett. 084. He.

Fri, 25 Jul 2008 03:19:57 GMT

Title: It's all in fun.
Fandom: The Red Sox.
Characters: Jon Lester/Clay Buchholz/Josh Beckett.
Prompt: 084 He.
Word Count: 2,008
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Josh sees Jon using his surprise and decides he wants in.
Author's Notes: A sequel to my prompt "Sound". Kinda angsty.

Josh walked down the hallway attempting to balance four buckets of ice in his arms. He had finally bitched enough at the staff that they went and got the ice for him, all four buckets. He reached the door and nudged it open with his foot. He closed it behind him and heard noises coming from the bedroom. He slipped off his shoes and crept into the sitting room. He stopped at the doorframe into the bedroom because if he went any further they would see him.

He stationed his body in the sitting room and peered around the door frame. He got an eyeful of Jon and Clay on the hotel bed. Jon was on all fours on the bed, his beautifully round ass in the air. Clay was behind him, hands on Jon’s hips. Josh watched as Clay positioned himself and slipped into Jon. When Jon first cried out, Josh almost dropped his ice. To save this from happening again, he put the buckets down on the ground. When he stood back up, Clay was already pumping away. He watched Jon bite his bottom lip to keep from making too much noise. With every hip thrust from Clay, Josh’s cock became harder.

Josh moaned a little and ran his hand over the front of his jeans. He figured he could last; he had managed to keep himself from coming long enough before, and that’s when he was actually fucking Jon. He thought that watching would be even easier. But it wasn’t. He wasn’t able to anticipate how absolutely hot Clay and Jon were together. They’re almost…beautiful Josh thought to himself. That was until Jon came anyway. He saw the lefty quiver and Josh almost lost it himself. He thought that Jacoby was the only one who did that.

“Heh, Ellsquake,” he mumbled to himself. He started to pick up the ice when he saw Jon shake his head.

“Keep going. I want you to fuck me, Clay. Like you used to.” Josh heard Jon mumble to Clay. When Josh saw Clay begin again, Josh almost moaned outload. Now I remember why we called him Buck… He laughed to himself. As Clay continued to thrust into Jon, and Jon became hard again, Josh slipped his hand down the front of his pants. He began lightly stroking himself, but he had to keep telling his brain not to push himself too far. He knew what was next for the bedroom boys, and he didn’t want to wear himself out yet.

A few minutes later, the Jonquake returned and Clay slumped himself over Jon. Josh smiled and turned away from the room. He had a blatant erection he was trying to hide. Pitching…9th inning with 2 outs…bases loaded… full count….walk…loosing run…world series gone… Josh thought to himself and managed to will his erection away within a minute. He was still as fired up as ever, but not in a way that would be physically obvious the second he walked in the room. He turned back around and picked up the buckets of ice. When he walked back to the doorway with the ice, Jon and Clay were cuddled on the bed together. He heard Jon mumble something to Clay but didn’t think it was that important. He couldn’t think of anything post-sex that actually ever meant anything. He cleared his throat out loud. They both turned to look at him, like a frightened deer in the crosshairs.

“What have we here?” Josh asked with a smirk on his face. Jon gulped and Clay’s eyes widened. “I hope you enjoyed your surprise,” Josh said. He walked into the bedroom and put down the ice on the floor. “Because now,” he said facing the bed, “it’s my turn.” Josh smiled evilly as the two pitchers on the bed gulped hard. Josh chuckled slightly as he took off his shirt. He looked right at Clay as he took off his jeans.

“I missed you, Buck,” he said slyly. Clay managed to smile back slightly. He knew what was coming, and he partly anticipated it, but partly dreaded it. He was perfectly happy cuddling with Jon, but he also liked being with Josh; he was mentally, and hormonally, torn apart.

“Jon,” Josh said, “go sit on the chair over there and enjoy the show while I welcome him back.” Jon did as he said, but was not happy about it. He loved Clay, sometimes more than he should, but he really liked when it was just him and Josh, without Clay.

Jon sat on the plush chair next to the bed with his legs bent “Indian Style”. He looked over and saw Clay roll over onto his back, eyes wide as he looked over Josh. Josh got onto the bed with him. He kneeled next to Clay and pulled him up to eye level. When they were both kneeling and facing the other, Josh put one hand behind Clay’s head and pulled in for a kiss. It was deep, but rough. Clay felt his nerves turn into fire throughout his whole body. He loved the feeling of Josh on his lips, but he still wished he was with Jon.

Josh continued to deeply kiss Clay. He ran his hand through Clay’s already sweat-spiked hair. Clay was trying to keep himself relatively calm, but his cock apparently wasn’t listening. As Josh roughly slipped his tongue into Clay’s mouth, he felt that familiar long hand on his ass. Clay didn’t pinch it like Jon might have, it was more of a grab. Clay wanted Josh really bad. He had managed to forget about Jon in the chair, because all he could think about was having Josh inside him. He was relieved when he heard Josh almost growl those familiar words.

“Turn over, Buck.” Clay immediately complied and got on all fours. Josh slid off the bed and went to his bedside table. Clay peeked at Jon on the chair. Clay thought that Jon woud have been sad, or at least slightly pouty, at being left out; however, Jon seemed perfectly content to watch the two Texans go at it. His cock was already hardening again between his legs. Clay licked his lips slightly, staring at the spot between Jon’s legs, and Jon saw. They met eyes and Jon smirked. Their silent conversation was but short, however, when Josh got back on the bed.

Josh slid his hands up the bumps in Clay’s spine and let his fingers dance around Clay’s neck. He leaned in and whispered into Clay’s ear.

“You remember how I told you I missed you?” Josh said. Clay nodded. “Well, let me prove it to you.” Josh quickly slipped his cock inside Clay, and Clay cried out in delight. The sound went through Jon’s nerves and his cock snapped to attention. As he sat there, watching Josh fuck the lights out of Clay, Jon would have been lying if he said he didn’t get excited. But, it wasn’t because it turned him on to watch them. It’s because Jon wanted to be the one fucking Clay. He had missed his bony, almost beautiful frame. Yet, at the same time, he wanted to be fucked by Josh.

When he heard Clay moan again, Jon snapped out of his thoughts. He looked up and saw Josh had quickened his pace, thrusting into Clay with a rapid fire. Jon threw all his thoughts aside and took in the whole picture. It was pretty hot, in his opinion. As if that had been the magic release, Jon’s cock began growing increasingly harder. He reached his hand down and took a hold of himself. With each motion from Josh’s hips, Jon stroked himself. By some twist of fate, Jon came and looked up to find that Clay had, too.

Josh pulled himself out of Clay and Clay slid to the bed. Josh went into the bathroom and came back with three towels. He tossed one to Jon and one to Clay. They wiped themselves off and threw the towels in a corner.

“I’m going to take a shower. When I get out one of you can use it if you want, or whatever.” He shrugged and went into the bathroom. Jon finally was sure of his thoughts the past two weeks. When Josh had both Jon and Clay together, he turned into his cocky Texan self. When he had Jon alone, he didn’t have anyone to impress, so he could be himself. Jon watched the door shut and looked over at Clay on the bed. He was lying on his stomach, trying to calm his breathing.

Jon got off the chair and walked to the bed. He lay down in the bed and snuggled next to Clay. Clay looked up, turned on his side, and threw one long arm around Jon. He pulled him in and they wrapped their arms around one another. Jon was contemplating telling Clay what he wanted to earlier. Maybe it was fate that Josh had interrupted his thoughts. Or maybe Jon was thinking too much into all of it. He brushed it all away and let his head rest on Clay’s chest.

Inches away, Clay was thinking almost the same thoughts, but in a different direction. He loved being around Jon; it brought out some passion within him that he could normally never tap into. But then there was Josh. Clay let Josh treat him the way he did because we wanted to badly to be with him, to be in him. It was a need that Josh could fulfill, because it was a need for Josh. He was contemplating telling Jon, seeing what he thought, but he pushed it away. He told himself he was just thinking too hard about it and rested his chin on Jon’s head.

In the bathroom, in the shower, Josh had his forehead pressed to the glass. He didn’t know why he treated Clay the way he did; maybe it was Texan competition. He didn’t know. He wanted to treat Clay the way he did Jon; there was something there for his little Texan buddy. But there was also something there for his lefty. He knew Jon was special, and he treated him as such. Was he going soft in his old age? And if he was going soft, for whom was it? Josh shook it off. He was just thinking too hard about all of this. He rinsed off the last remains of soap and shut the water. He grabbed his towel, patted himself off lightly, and walked into the bedroom. There, he found Jon and Clay wrapped in each other’s arms. He smiled a little and walked to his drawer. All in good fun, he told himself. If you don’t fall in love, nobody gets hurt. And all it stays is fun. He turned back to look at the two sleeping bodies on the bed again. All in fun. He got dressed and walked to the bed. The sheets were pooled at the foot, and Josh picked them up. He draped the light sheet over their sleeping bodies.

He turned to go, but stopped. He walked back to the bed and leaned over them. He rubbed Jon’s hair lightly, letting his hand stall over his adorable grey patches. He kissed the back of Jon’s head and removed his hand. He managed then to lean over Jon and stroke the side of Clay’s face. He couldn’t lean in to kiss him too or he would loose his balance and fall over. He wished he could, though, but turned to walk away. Just before he walked out of the room in search of a good bar, he took one last look in the bedroom. He smiled and thought to himself Maybe it’s better to just keep it in the bedroom, no matter what. Plus, I’ll never have to call them in the morning this way. He laughed and latched the door behind him, pocketing his room key, and watching the little green light turn to red.

My Little Damn Table

The Red Sox. Jon Lester/Clay Buchholz. 037. Sound.

Fri, 25 Jul 2008 03:11:38 GMT

Title: Your Surprise.
Fandom: The Red Sox.
Characters: Jon Lester/Clay Buchholz.
Prompt: 037 Sound.
Word Count: 2,525
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Josh called Clay up from Pawtucket as a surprise for Jon. However, Josh didn't think he would arrive early.
Author's Notes: The sequel to my prompt "Fall"

Jon woke up the same way he did the day before: completely unaware of what was going on. This time, however, there was no aftershave, no voice on the phone, and he was only encased be softness on three sides. The fourth side was warm and different from the rest. Jon peeked open one eye and found himself staring into something tanish. Once his eyes adjusted, he realized that it was skin. Then, once his mind unclouded from sleep, he realized whose skin it was: Josh’s.

Josh had one arm around Jon and one under his pillow. Jon had managed to snuggle himself up against Josh during the night and awoke that way. Jon tried to stretch out his legs a little, but he tapped Josh in the leg and was punctuated by a grunt from the Texan. Josh stirred a little and creaked one eye open. He looked down at Jon and smiled a groggy smile.

“Now how did you end up down there?” Josh asked. “Well, not that I’ve never asked you that before,” he chuckled. Jon shrugged his shoulders and yawned. Josh took the arm he had slung over Jon and used it to push him up just enough to see the clock on Jon’s bedside table. The LEDs flashed back 1:35 as Josh tisked and lay back in bed.

“What time is it?” Jon asked.

“One thirty,” Josh replied and rolled over onto his left side. Throwing aside the covers, Josh got out of bed and stood at the foot of it. Jon rolled onto his back just in time to see Josh, with his back to Jon, stretching away his sleep. The muscles in his back stood out against the shadows cast by the early afternoon sunlight. Jon let his eyes wander down to his sweet ass and took in every curve and every muscle twitch generated by Josh’s stretching and arching back. Josh stood normally once again and turned to face Jon.

“I’m going to call Tito, make sure the car is coming for us,” Josh said and walked over to the phone in the sitting room. Jon nodded. He threw the blankets aside and stood up by the side of the bed. He decided that he needed to actually take a shower and went to his drawers to gather his clothes he was going to wear. As he was walking into the bathroom, he heard Josh begin talking on the phone. Jon sighed lightly, knowing that he could at least get five minutes of peace in the shower now. He made a mental note that he wasn’t complaining, though. He obviously enjoyed the little shower escapades that he had with Josh, but he was in dire need for a real shower.

Jon put his clean clothes on the little table by the shower and placed his dirty ones in a pile next to the towel rack. His bare feet lightly echoed off the tiles in the bathroom as he walked over to the shower encasement. He stepped in and closed the door behind him. As he walked over to the multitude of nozzles, he had flashes of the night before. He turned on the water, hearing its refreshing splatter against the tiled floor of the shower. He was trying to push the other night’s memories out of his head, but it wasn’t really working. It wasn’t that he was trying to forget, he was just trying to not get himself all worked up; all he needed in the middle of a supposedly relaxing shower was an erection he couldn’t shake off.

Jon focused his attention on his shampoo: the bottle, the scent, the consistency, and the sudsing capabilities, basically anything except for the thought that he was standing in the same spot as the other night. He began humming to himself to keep his mind even further away. However, when Jon was done his hair and he picked up the bar of the soap to wash the rest of him, it slipped out of his hand and went flying. It landed with a “plunk” on the floor of the shower. Good thing I don’t do that with the ball Jon thought to himself.

He bent over to pick up the soap, but before he stood back up again, he craned his neck up to look at the mirror through the foggy glass of the shower. He saw himself bent over, perfect ass sticking up in the air. His mind placed Josh behind him, the same place he was in the night before. He remembered the way Josh’s hips felt against his ass: slightly bony, but surprisingly smooth. Jon felt his cock stir a little beneath him, and quickly stood up. He told himself again that it wasn’t because he didn’t like this feeling, but if he should happen to come out of the shower at half-mast he might give Josh the wrong ideas.

Jon finished his shower without any more “problems” and got dressed in the bathroom. When he walked out of the room, steam following him into the bedroom, Josh was already all dressed. He had the news on, again, and was sitting on the edge of the bed watching it. He turned around and smiled at Jon as he entered the room.

“Tito’s sending a car to get us in a few minutes. We got an hour on the field then we’re coming back here.” Jon looked puzzled.

“Just an hour?” Jon asked.

“Yeah. Why do you ask?” Josh asked defensively.

“Just wondering, that’s all,” he said timidly.

“Oh,” was Josh’s reply. His brain told him to calm down. They would be back just in time for Jon’s surprise to arrive. Josh forced a smile at Jon, who returned the gesture.

“Shouldn’t we be waiting downstairs?” Jon asked.

“Oh, yeah, we should. Thanks, Jonny,” Josh said and shut off the TV. He got up and the two pitchers left the room.

The car ride was uneventful to the field. They spent an hour pitching and got back in the car to the hotel. They stepped out of the car, waved good bye again, and stood under the hotel awning.

“So, what’s my surprise you promised me yesterday?” Jon asked Josh, who turned to smile at the lefty.

“You’ll see. It will be here soon enough,” Josh smirked evilly. Jon raised an eyebrow quizzically but let it go. They walked again into the hotel and onto the elevator. The hallway was silent as they walked to their room. Josh slipped the key into the slot and opened the door. They walked in and Josh put the key in the little bowl by the door.

“Hey, I’m going to get some ice, I’ll be back in a minute,” Josh said. “I’m leaving my key here, so I’m keeping the door propped open a little, ok?” Jon nodded and Josh was back out the door. Jon stood in the common area and watched the door stop just short of latching into the doorframe.

Jon walked into the bedroom and sat down on the bed. He began untying his sneakers when he heard the door creak. It was followed by footsteps into the hotel room.

“That was quick,” Jon yelled from the bedroom.

“Well I didn’t hit any traffic,” a voice that was not Josh’s responded. Jon’s eyes widened in panic for a second; then, he suddenly realized whose voice it was. Jon leapt to his feet and bolted into the sitting room. There, standing in all his goofy, lanky glory was Clay. Jon’s jaw could have hit the floor.

“Clay?” Jon exclaimed.

“Jon?” Clay returned the excitement. They ran to each other, arms open, and hugged for a few seconds in the middle of the sitting room. When they loosened their grip, Jon looked up slightly into Clay’s eyes.

“I’ve missed you, man,” Jon said. Clay smiled.

“I missed you too.” And, as if that was the secret password, they locked lips in the middle of the sitting room. Clay’s kiss was deep and passionate while Jon’s hinted at a longing that had just been satisfied. Jon parted his lips slightly and Clay slipped his tongue in. Jon felt himself almost getting week in the knees. It had been too long since he had felt Clay like this, and it was wrecking havoc on his central nervous system.

“The bed,” Jon whispered as they parted for only a second. Clay nodded and they ran into the bedroom.

Meanwhile, Josh was busy at the front desk. The ice machine wasn’t working. So, she sent him to the second floor machine. There was a line at that one. So, she sent him to the fourth floor one. That one wasn’t working either, and he refused to go to the fifth floor.

“I am not going that far out of my way for something that should be on my floor to begin with,” he stated with his characteristic Texan anger beginning to rear its ugly head.

While Josh was trying to get his ice, Clay was trying to get at Jon. Jon had sat down on the bed, his ass near the pillows and his legs bent and splayed at a wide angle. Clay was kneeling between Jon’s legs and was pulling down Jon’s shorts. He managed to maneuver himself around the shorts to he could get them off completely. Jon assisted and took off his shirt as Clay took off his own. Clay got in closer to Jon and took off his boxers.

Jon lay naked on the hotel bed, and Clay was crouched, shirtless, between his legs. Clay leaned in and left a trail of his signature wide-mouthed kisses all the way down Jon’s cock. When he reached the tip, he licked his way back up. Jon moaned from the headboard, and Clay took this as a signal to begin. He opened his wide mouth and took Jon in. Jon had missed Clay’s mouth, the mouth that drove him nuts. He used to watch Clay pitch from the dugout, seeing the faces he was making with that fantastic mouth, and would have to stop his cock from pressing up against his cup.

Jon reached down and took a handful of Clay’s hair in his hand. He soon placed the other hand delicately on the back of Clay’s head because it had nowhere else to go. Clay continued to move his tongue up and down Jon’s cock as he moved the rest of his mouth. He had gotten a steady rhythm by the time his own cock decided to press itself up against Clay’s jeans. Clay moaned at the contact and his sudden excitement. The vibration of the sound from the back of Clay’s throat made Jon almost cry out. Clay stopped blowing Jon and looked up at him. Jon had his eyes half-closed and his chest was heaving. His hands were pleadingly grabbing at Clay’s hair. Clay knew what all this meant: he was close. And Clay was slowly getting harder with every lick up or down Jon’s cock. He removed Jon from his mouth.

“Turn over,” Clay said and got off the bed. Jon was taken by surprise.

“What?”

“I said turn over,” Clay repeated and began taking off his pants. Jon finally got the message and turned over. He balanced himself on the bed in the right position as Clay made his way to Josh’s bedside table. He opened the drawer and pulled out a small tube.

“How did you know that was there?” Jon asked. Clay smirked.

“It’s always there.” Jon chuckled because he knew Clay was right. Jon remained in his position on the bed as Clay put a little bit of the liquid into this hands. He rubbed it on his cock just enough; he didn’t want to set himself off too early. By the time he positioned himself back on the bed and behind Jon, the anticipation alone had made him as hard as possible. Clay placed one long hand on each of Jon’s ass cheeks and rubbed them up to Jon’s shoulder blades. He pressed his chest against the soft skin of Jon’s ass.

“I missed you,” Clay said before smirking, “and I missed your ass.” Clay chuckled and returned his hands to Jon’s hips. Clay readied himself and placed his cock just outside of Jon’s opening. His hands moved to Jon’s hips as he slowly eased himself in. Jon inhaled sharply, but it was released with a long, delighted moan. Clay had forgotten the feel of being inside Jon, and that alone almost drove him over the edge. He managed to stop himself, though, and began bucking his hips to move in and out of Jon.

After about half a dozen bucks, Jon moaned again, and tightened his muscles slightly. The new friction made Clay cry out, but it was not a wordless sound like Jon. It was Jon’s name. Jon knew he was close before, but when he heard Clay call his name like that, he quivered and came. I thought it was only Jacoby who quivered like that, Clay thought to himself. He slowed down his hip motions but Jon shook his head.

“No,” he moaned. “Keep going. I want you to fuck me, Clay. Like you used to.” Clay smirked and gave Jon a fast, deep thrust. Jon cried out from the shocking pleasure. “Oh, that’s the way you used to fuck me,” Jon cried. Clay moved his hips again, quickly and deep. Jon started to become hard again and tightened his muscles around Clay’s cock, hoping to suspend Clay’s climax. He wanted them to come together, like they used to. At that moment, that passionate moment, Jon was all about reminiscing. Clay moaned again, but did not come.

Clay moved his hips into Jon a few more times before he came. And, just as Jon wanted, he came at the same time. Clay slumped himself over Jon’s arched frame and began sprinkling kisses down Jon’s back. Jon quivered again as Clay slid himself out of Jon. They simultaneously collapsed into the bed in a fit of sweaty panting. Clay was on the right and Jon on the left. Clay turned to face Jon and moved up next to him. Clay wrapped his long arms around Jon and held him close.

“I missed you so much,” Jon said into Clay’s chest.

“I missed you too, Jonny,” Clay said and nuzzled the top of Jon’s head.

“I mean it,” Jon said, “I… I never got to tell you, before you went down to Pawtucket, that I think I... I l-” Jon was cut off by Josh clearing his throat from within the sitting room. Jon spun around to find Josh standing in the doorway, holding four buckets of ice.

“What have we here?” Josh asked with a smirk on his face. Jon gulped and Clay’s eyes widened. “I hope you enjoyed your surprise,” Josh said. He walked into the bedroom and put down the ice on the floor. “Because now,” he said facing the bed, “it’s my turn.” Josh smiled evilly as the two pitchers on the bed gulped hard.

My Little Damn Table

The Red Sox. Josh Beckett/Jon Lester. 064 Fall.

Fri, 25 Jul 2008 03:02:05 GMT

Title: Bath Tub Antics.
Fandom: The Red Sox.
Characters: Josh Beckett/Jon Lester.
Prompt: 064 Fall.
Word Count: 2,380
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Jon takes a bath after a day of pitching. Josh decides he would like one, too.
Author's Notes: A sequel to my prompt "Not Enough". This story takes "Fall" literally.

Josh walked up the stairs to the hotel room. They were on the third floor, but he still had some adrenaline he had to get rid of. He jogged down the hall and pulled out his room key, slipping it into the slot. It clicked into place and the red light turned green on the handle. He opened the door and stepped inside. The sitting room lamp was on, as was the light in the bedroom. He walked past the ornate furniture in the sitting room and into the bedroom. The bed was empty, but Jon’s clothes were on the floor. Josh looked around but found no sign of the lefty.

“Jon?” he called out. He heard splashing coming from the bathroom.

“I’m in here. I decided to take a bath,” Jon responded.

“Oh, ok. That’s a good idea, Jon,” Josh said. He smirked evilly to himself and began taking off his shirt. The door to the bathroom was only open slightly but Josh could see the mirror on the opposite end of the bathroom. It was partly fogged, which meant Jon was taking a hot bath, not a cold one. Josh chuckled in approval and slid off his comfy pants. He was always a little sad to have to take them off; they were quite possibly the most comfortable thing he had ever been in. Well, other than Jon.

Josh took off his boxers and put them in the same pile as his shirt and pants. He slipped off his shoes and socks before heading towards the bathroom door. He delicately opened it and poked his head around the corner. Jon was in the tub, which was filled almost to capacity with steaming water. He was immersed as far as possible without having his bent knees out of the water and his head rested on the curve of the top of the tub. Jon had a hot towel over his eyes and bits of the area around his ears, but Josh could still see the little patches of grey in Jon’s hair.

He quietly padded his way over to the tub; Jon still didn’t know that there was anyone else in the bathroom. Josh took this opportunity to get as close to the tub as possible. When he was within six inches of Jon, he took his left hand and balanced himself on the opposite side of the tub. He then bent down and placed a passionate kiss on Jon’s tired lips. Jon gasped from within Josh’s mouth and took off the towel. He looked up to find Josh, once again, attached to his mouth. Jon closed his eyes lightly and pulled one drenched hand from out of the tub. He placed it behind Josh’s head as little droplets of water dripped down Josh’s back. They ticked him and he enjoyed it.

Josh put his other hand behind Jon’s head, feeling the steam rise from the tub. The water was slowly trickling down Josh’s back and had pooled slightly at the indent in his lower back. Jon knew all about this part of Josh’s anatomy and how Josh had a sensitivy to it. Josh moaned slightly into Jon’s mouth and forced his tongue in. Jon responded by taking his other hand out of the tub and placing it on the aforementioned small of Josh’s back. Jon ran his finger along the little indentation and peeked one eye open. He looked down and saw Josh’s dick beginning to respond to all this affection.

Jon continued to rub this part of Josh’s back and Josh moaned again. Jon was beginning to also enjoy all the affection; that is, until Josh’s stabilizing hand slipped. Josh tumbled and fell on top of Jon in the bath tub with a deafening slap. The water overflowed onto the floor and rushed to all corners and joints of the bathroom. They had parted mouths by then, and were in fact giggling. Jon thought that the whole incident was hilarious, while Josh just found it mildly amusing. He was about to reprimand Jon for laughing so hard when he actually saw how much Jon was giggling. It pinged something deep in Josh’s stomach and he smiled.

“Oh, knock it off and kiss me,” Josh said and Jon complied. They met lips again and Jon returned his hands to the previous locations, while Josh was trying to stabilize himself over Jon with his hands resting on the floor of the tub. Jon took the hand he had on the small of Josh’s back and pressed down firmly, bringing their hips and groins together. Josh and Jon let out a simultaneous moan as they made contact. Since Josh was the one on top, he began sliding himself up and down Jon’s body, rubbing their increasingly hardening cocks together.

Jon broke their lips apart to lean his head back and sighed a soft moan. Josh smirked a little and increased his tempo. Jon gripped longingly at Josh’s back, but slipped his hand, the left hand, off the back of Josh’s head. It delicately dropped back into the water with a light “plop”. Jon let his hand run over his chest for a little while before he eased his hand up from Josh’s back, allowing his other hand to take hold of Josh’s now blatant erection. Josh knew that it would eventually happen, but still was unable to stop the moan from escaping his lips. Jon was taken aback for a second; it had happened again. He heard that moan coming from Josh only twice: once just now and once the other night. Of all the things he had seen him do with, or to, Clay he never heard that come from Josh’s lips before.

Jon leaned up and locked lips with Josh as he began to stroke Josh with his free hand. The other slid its way down to Josh’s ass and, once again feeling adventurous, gave it a slight pinch. Josh shuddered slightly and while still kissing Jon let his mouth open enough to moan.

“Oh Jon, I’ve never known you could do this to me,” he whispered before leaving a trail of nibbles down Jon’s neck. Jon arched his head back in response, allowing Josh to cover more ground. Josh never knew this because they were never alone enough for Jon to show him. Jon wanted to make Josh happy; actually, he wanted to make Josh moan. The sound drove him nuts.

Josh continued nibbling as Jon quickened his pace on Josh’s cock. The water gave some interesting resistance on Jon’s slender left hand, but he managed to still create sounds of pleasure from Josh. Their lips made contact again, and Josh took the time to nibble Jon’s lower lip. Now it was Jon’s turn to moan, and Josh almost came at the sound.

“Come on Jonny,” he said in Jon’s ear, “I’m almost there…” he grunted as Jon quickened his pace. “Wave me home Jonny,” he growled. On the last upward move, Jon simultaneously, and roughly, three-finger pinched Josh’s ass. Josh came instantly. The sound that emanated from his mouth was a mix between a moan and a roar. Jon couldn’t take it anymore; the animalistic noises that Josh made drove him to the edge, but he still needed to be pushed over.

“Josh…” Jon moaned.

“Yes?” he asked teasingly.

“I… I need to come.” He managed to slip out. Josh looked down and saw Jon’s left hand flutter to his own cock. Josh pushed his hand away and replaced it with his own. After less than a minute of Josh’s rough hands on Jon’s anxious cock, Jon came with a moan that was more delicate and more of a release.

Josh pushed himself up and kneeled in the tub with one knee on the outside of each of Jon’s legs. He stared down at the lefty. Jon had his eyes delicately closed, panting. Josh watched his pale chest heave up and down as he tried to catch his breath. Then, for the first time since Josh started fucking him almost a year ago, he felt sorta lucky. He had watched Jon come up as a rookie. But, he also saw Jon go through his cancer battle. Josh had catered to him like a son during those fragile times, but it was mainly because Tito told him he should.

However, as they both sat in that bath tub, Josh felt that tinge again in his stomach. He was lucky. Lucky that Jon had made it out, lucky that Jon had stuck with Josh, and lucky that Jon allowed Josh to do these things with, and to, him.

His mind might have allowed him to ponder upon this more, except that Jon began to stir. He fluttered his eyes opened and smiled at Josh.

“Was that my surprise?” Jon asked.

“Actually, no.” Josh said. “That comes tomorrow, no pun intended.” Josh smirked and Jon’s eyes widened a little.

“Come on, it’s been a long day. We should get into bed. We have to practice again tomorrow and we need rest,” Josh said as he put his hands on the side of the tub. He eased himself up and stepped out of the tub onto the sopping wet floor. There was about an inch of water at the base of the tub which extended all the way to the door. It stopped before it reached the carpet, though, and it pooled right at the door jam. Josh steadied himself on the slippery floor and extended a hand to help Jon out of the tub.

“Nah, I got it,” Jon said and hauled himself up. He stood in the tub and gained his balance. Josh reached over to the spout and placed his hand into the water, pulling the plug and draining the tub. When he tipped his head up to stand back up, he found himself eye-to-cock with Jon. He placed a hand on Jon’s ass and left a trail of kisses from Jon’s tip to where his skin was graced with soft curly hair. Jon tried to hold back his sigh, but Josh let go before he had to try any harder.

Josh walked to the towel rack and pulled off two towels as Jon stepped onto the floor. He almost slipped, but caught himself as he took one towel from Jon. He thanked Josh and walked into the bedroom. They both wrapped the towels around their torsos and put their pajamas on. The room was soon filled with their witty banter and the resulting laughter.

Five minutes later, they were in bed, propped up by their pillows, with the evening news on. They cheered heartily at the sports section when they discovered that they had triumphed Tampa in that night’s game. The announcer said that the Sox had one more night in Tampa before they loaded a plane and flew back up to Boston, where Josh Beckett would pitch against the Mariners. Josh smiled at the mention of his name, but it was quickly cut off by a knock at their door. The pitchers looked at each other perplexed as Josh threw back the sheets and got up. Jon followed suit and they met at the door. Josh threw the door open and they were greeted by a member of the hotel staff. He cleared his throat and began speaking.

“I’m so sorry to disturb you at this hour,” he said and Josh made a face to himself. It was only around seven, maybe eight o’clock. The man continued, “But, we have received complaints from the room below you that there was water leaking onto their heads. Was there some problem with your plumbing tonight?” Jon tried to hide his snicker, and therefore forced Josh to explain the situation.

“Oh, well, you see, I decided to take a bath, and I filled it too high. So, when I got in, the, uh, water displacement caused it to overflow. So, uh, it must have seeped in that way. Sorry.” The man looked at Josh with wide eyes as though he had just been personally insulted.

“Sorry?” he proclaimed. “Don’t be sorry. I can have a maid come up right away and clean it up. It’s no problem, but thank you for alerting it to us.” Josh shrugged and told the man he could get a maid if he wanted. The man scurried off down the hall and into the elevator.

“What a strange man,” Jon said as Josh shut the door.

“No shit,” Josh chuckled as they walked back into the bedroom. Jon went first and Josh couldn’t help but give Jon a playful slap on the ass. Jon turned around and smirked in time to crawl back into bed.

Five minutes later, there was a knock on the door followed by the signature cry of “house keeping!” It was flavored heavily with a Spanish accent. Josh told her to come in and they were greeted by a small round Spanish lady with enough cleaning supplies to sweep and swab all the way up and down the Pesky Pole. Jon motioned her into the bathroom and she wordlessly nodded, walking inside.

Within another ten minutes, which Josh and Jon passed with more news-watching, the woman reemerged smiling and collected her things. Josh hopped out of bed, grabbed ten dollars out of his wallet, and handed it to the lady. He thanked her, she nodded in reply, and as soon as she arrived she was gone.

Josh crawled back into bed. Three episodes of Family Guy later, Jon had fallen asleep with the remote in his hand. Josh looked over and found the pitcher happily dozing. Josh chuckled and slipped the remote out of his hand. He shut the TV and placed the clicker next to him on the table. Reaching over again, Josh slipped a hand under Jon and delicately lowered him into bed. As he was tucking him in, Jon fluttered open his eyes. Jon smiled warmly and Josh smiled back. Josh leaned in and lightly kissed Jon’s forehead.

“Sweet dreams,” Josh said as he reached back over to his own lamp and shut the light, once again filling the hotel room with darkness and the occasional peek of light through the shades from the parking lot.

My Little Damn Table

Prison Break Fiction: "Brighter Even Than The Sun" (PG-13)

Thu, 24 Jul 2008 23:22:38 GMT

Title: Brighter Even Than The Sun
Fandom: Prison Break
Author: HalfshellVenus
Characters: Lincoln Burrows/Michael Scofield (Slash)
Prompt: #063, "Summer"
Word Count: 540
Rating: PG-13
Summary: (Pre-series) This summer everything is different, and Michael can't help noticing it.
Warning: This story contains slash between brothers.
Author's Notes: For jasmasson's birthday, the "Clothes Make The Man" porn challenge at pbhiatus_fic, and my fanfic100 table ("Summer").

x-x-x-x-x

It's crazy to fixate on this...

Code Geass: Guilford/Cornelia - 33. Too Much

Thu, 24 Jul 2008 21:59:51 GMT

Title: Virtuous Knight
Fandom: Code Geass
Characters: Guilford, Cornelia
Prompt: #033. Too Much
Word Count: 665
Rating: PG
Summary: Guilford fights a losing battle against his conflicting feelings toward Cornelia.
Author's Notes: Takes place during Stage 8.75, the visual drama with the swimwear.

Guilford felt like he was battling with propriety.

Young Justice - Bart/Tim - 20. Colourless

Thu, 24 Jul 2008 21:56:00 GMT

Title: Better Than.
Fandom: Teen Titans
Characters: Tim/Cassie, mentions of Bart/Tim and Kon/Cassie.
Prompt: 20. Colourless.
Word Count: 313
Rating: R
Summary: They're the perfect couple.
Author's Notes: Well, I was inexplicably invited to timxcassie, so I figured I might as well write a story about the pairing.