The King Arthur RPS Fanfiction Community

New, and bearing a gift:

2005-04-22T02:10:31Z

Untitled
Pairing: Ioan/Keira
Rating: R
Summary: Things don't seem to work the way Ioan would like them too, but they get a little closer.
Feedback: Is lovely.

The words are spinning round his thoughts, blocking them. The circles ripple outwards, sidways, and between, but without chaos. Not chaos but turmoil; it's non-Euclidean geometry and Ioan doesn't understand it. His mind is angular, like his body, a fluid connection of lines, degrees, and theories. Hugh would say that many of his theories are complete bollocks, but he has them nonetheless. They make sense to him. Keira's curves do not.

Her lips remain slightly apart, still shaping the last syllable she'd uttered. Her mouth did that a lot. It puzzled him.

"Why do you do that?" His accent is very pronounced.

"Want to fuck? I've been surrounded by sweaty men with swords for the better part of the day, I need a relatively quick way to relax if I'm going to get any sleep tonight, and I've been wanting to see you without clothes since I started watching Horatio Hornblower." Her shoulder shrugs up like a comma, and it takes a minute before he realizes she's done.

His grin is filled with gratified modesty. "I actually meant your mouth," he explains on a half-laugh. He expects her to ask, to take the tangent. She doesn't.

The tang of caffeine dominates the kiss. Ioan gives in to its call of awakening, as he cedes dreams to dark coffee with only a hint of milk before call every morning and vague desires of sloth to Dr. Pepper during breaks. Hugh laughs at him for the latter, but he stays by Ioan till his water is gone before joining Keira at the archery range. He tells Ioan she wears high heels to dinner. Ioan's never seen her in anything but tennis shoes. She doesn't need heels to roll her tongue along his neck.

"Hugh already at the pub?" His voice sounds academic. Ioan had planned to attend tonight. Her eyebrow quirks when she nods. He traces it with his finger, the way Hugh traces Ioan's when they're raised. He cups her chin in his hand, and kisses her again. It's gentle, it's paced, it's slightly spicy. It's everything Hugh isn't when Ioan imagines kissing him. Her hair's in a ponytail, and he avoids even her neck. That's where the curls should be.

They get takeout, and drink beer instead of wine. Her sheets are rumpled. She twists more than is strictly necessary, curves stertching and contracting in images Ioan memorizes. He doesn't manipulate them, but observes. His body follows hers, exploring on its own while his mind feels an outsider. But the motion shoots pleasure through him in parabolas, in diagonals, in exponents. She curses when she comes, legs tight around him. Gripping her thighs, he releases himself. She rolls off of him, nestling against a pillow. Well, he thinks, her problem's solved. For now.

On his way to the loo, he trips over a heel. Rubbing his stubbed toe, Ioan looks at the mirror but can't think of anything to say. Which bodes terribly well for talking to Hugh. He wishes he could kiss him instead. He wishes Hugh hadn't left for the pub so early. He wishes Keira hadn't seen Hornblower. He wishes his toe would stop hurting.

Ioan sighs, and returns to his side of the bed. He faces the wall, lets the alcohol help lull him to sleep. He can wait till tomorrow. He can wait till she leaves, till filming ends. He can wait till Hugh's thoroughly pissed.

But it's time to stop wishing.

New Ficlette

2005-03-22T04:11:03Z

Title: Attraction

Author: KIHarwick

Rating: R for some extreme images

Pairing: Ioan Gruffudd/OFC (Het)

Feedback: Would love to have some, please, and thank you.

Length: 2,481 words

Summary: Attraction is a dangerous thing.

Disclaimer: I don’t own anyone except my own characters. None of this is real, and it never happened. No offence is intended.

Author’s Note: Please don’t take my characters. They are copyright to me, and you will be caught if you steal them. There are appearances by Orlando Bloom, Eric Bana, and Josh Hartnett. They’re minor, but significant, for this little shorty might become a series of shorties. Appearances have been changed to suit my needs. I have to say that the song ‘Hope’ performed by Apocalyptica is a big inspiration for this piece. Thanks to them for creating beautiful music. Thanks to the wonderful Cat for all of her comments and the help she gave me. You’re still a jewel!

She was married when she met the dark haired god from Wales. He was sensual, exotic, and exciting; and yet, so was her husband, Orlando, her best friend in the world. Orlando had wooed her and won her passionately; but with her first glance at those Welsh eyes, she felt fire in her heart. He had taken her desire and rerouted it. He intrigued her, oh God, how he did. And it burned both of them, the creeping, hidden passion…

Black Hawk Down was one of the most excruciating movies she’d ever seen. The plot was intense, set in the midst of the Somalian conflict of 1993. Her involvement, however, had been limited to working on set, observing and scribbling notes for the director and producers. She was a writer, after all. Most recently, she’d worked on the set of Ned Kelly with director Gregor Jordan, producing a good set of notes for the world to grasp.

The set of Black Hawk Down was riddled with set props, crew men, actors, make-up artists, costume designer’s everyday, and today was no different. She walked by a scorched skeleton of a helicopter and shuddered. It could really happen like that, she thought. She was familiar with the story of Black Hawk Down, for she’d read the book with Orlando for background research. He had been cast for Private First Class Todd Blackburn, the young man who broke his back by falling from a helicopter. It was a sad story, Blackburn’s. At least he had survived.

Today was a break from her work routine. Orlando was sick, and had spent the day at their rented flat, and so she had ventured out alone. Already, morning was sweltering. The sun beat down on her, smothering her with unbearable heat. When she was home in London, it wasn’t ever this hot; if by some stroke of chance it did reach such extremes, it would be the cause of some global warming catastrophe. London was gloomy old London. London was home; familiar, and safe. It was all she needed to sustain her for the rest of her days, she wanted for nothing except home and London fog.

A dark mess of hair clung to the back of her neck, while little curls escaped the old straw hat she wore and hung in her face, obscuring the vision of eyes the colour of a turquoise sea; delicately arched eyebrows framed them and her dark lashes. Her nose was small, almost like a button, and her lips were lush; they’d tempt any man to drink from the fountain of her lips. Passer-by might have mistaken her for another of the white prop masters, in her cliché army gear: green tank top, khaki shorts, boots and socks, rucksack and water, and any other necessities for the day.

Men lifting and carrying props greeted her as she passed them with familiarity. She made it a point to try and get to know everyone. It made her more approachable, more open to having everyone around. That was how she met him; the dark haired god of a man from Wales.

Ioan Gruffudd was one of her brother’s best friends. They’d gone to the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts together, and stayed friends. She’d never met him until now. Her brother had never introduced them. Once she met her brother’s old friend, she never again wondered why. From his smouldering dark chocolate brown eyes, the careless mess of curls that sat atop his head—he was every inch a heart breaker. Despite his roguish good looks, he astonished her as being in almost every way the perfect gentleman, treating everyone around him with respect and dignity. He had that smile that made the entire female population around him melt. He could be in the worst company and still maintain an air of politeness and dignity. He was almost perfect.

And yet, she suspected there was a streak of imperfection, maybe even the typical ‘bad boy’ persona to Ioan. She’d never seen it, but with his schoolboy charm and good looks, it was somewhere close to the surface. All she had to do was find it.

It was refreshing to her, that Ioan didn’t curse in front of women. She found that incredibly charming. He always waited until the women were gone before cursing softly to himself. She caught him a few times, and listened with a grin as he made his apologies. Despite her insistence that it was perfectly alright, he’d always told her it just wasn’t done for a proper Welsh boy to curse in front of a lady. She was astonished. No one ever called her a lady.

The first time they actually admitted a mutual attraction for each other was when all the actors had gone to the local pub. Josh and Eric had invited her for a special surprise which had turned out to be a birthday party in her honour. Orlando had told them; Josh and Eric made it happen. Everyone had taken her for a dance, saying she belonged to all of them and owed every man a dance. As the night progressed, they all likewise became progressively drunker. Ioan had stayed quiet in a corner, watching the party from the sidelines, safely keeping his distance from her. But he had misjudged her; she wouldn’t let him get off that easily. Dressed in a sequined tube top, a black miniskirt, she stunned him. Her lithe body was like wine, he craved it, desired it as he’d desired nothing else in his life.

She marched over to him, stared him straight in the face, and the most beguiling smile he’d ever seen played over her face. She bent over him, took his hand and pulled him onto the dance floor. Bush was playing, or at least he thought that was who it was. It was hard to tell with the tantalizing woman in front of him igniting fire in his blood when she touched his hands. She turned to him, and rotated her hips in his direction. He stared stupidly at her, knowing that Orlando would be angry if he’d pulled her against him, and ground himself against her soft nimble body.

He didn’t want to offend his friend, but his attraction toward his wife was wearing on him. Everyday he’d see her, talk to her, ask about her relations; nothing was going on between them. So it seemed. But attraction was just below the surface. Every time they were together, it reared its beautiful, dangerous head. Tonight was no different. His mind told him to leave her on the dance floor, leave the pub, seek solace in some willing whore, but his body was traitorous at its best.

He twisted his hips, following her into a dance that he didn’t know he knew. She moved to the left, he mimicked; she moved right, he followed, his mind lost, his body attuned to hers. She teased and taunted him; he teased and taunted her back, exacting his revenge, in a sense. The song brought them closer. He stared into her jewel-like eyes, noting how they darkened to emerald green when she was around him. He knew it was the attraction.

She was a lissom little thing, all curves and willowy. She was making his mouth water just by simple little moves. He saw Orlando look at him and smile. He smiled back, though the smile was fake. He couldn’t face Orlando with the thoughts in his head about his wife.

If only he knew, he thought, and turned back to the goddess in front of him. The music changed to that of a soft ballad. Celine Dion, was his first thought as the soft cords of a cello ran through the speakers. He soon came to realise that it wasn’t Celine Dion, it was Hope performed by Apocalyptica. He stepped back, watching as she moved, gracefully; stepping into ballet moves the likes of which he’d never seen. The beat picked up, almost as if it were going to turn into a rock beat, but it didn’t.

He barely remembered anything else but the way she looked at him during the song. He saw the raw hunger in her eyes, the raw need, and the raw animal lust. He shook his head of the thoughts of her on her knees in front of him, his fingers tangled in her hair as he thrust himself into her mouth; of her body beneath his, and him thrusting into her, bringing them both the completion they sought. He was helpless now; he wanted her. She held him in the palm of her hand. And neither of them could do anything about it.

The song was over, finally, and he found himself being lead to the bar for a pint and laughter with the rest of his cast mates. Eric smiled at him as he grabbed the pint eagerly and gulped half of it down in one gulp. Ease up, mate, Eric said, she’s a bloody tease. Ioan knew that all to well. She was a bloody little tease. He watched as she walked to Orlando, who reached for her and kissed her soundly on the lips. Jealousy reared its head in Ioan’s eyes. He wanted to be the one she ran to when she came home at the end of the day. He wanted to run to her when he came home at the end of the day. He wanted to wake each morning and see her lying beside him, the sun shining in from the window and turning her face to a rosy peach colour.

She bloody well is a tease, Ioan said to himself, but Eric heard him.

She’s attractive, He said, staring at the happy couple, damn pretty, and he snatched her up, he did, the lucky bastard.

You’ve your wife, Ioan looked at the man beside him. Eric had no beard, but a bit of stubble hinted that he’d have one if he didn’t have in the next few days. Eric looked back at Ioan.

She’s a pretty wench, mate, He said, smiling, if I wasn’t married, I’d give Orlando there a run for his money. You’re the first bloke I’ve seen her actually look at, Ioan didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

She’s pretty enough, I’ll give her that, Ioan said, gulping down the rest of his pint and setting it on the bar for more.

She’s more than pretty, mate, Eric said, you can’t tell me that you haven’t imagined her in your bed at least one time or anther, Ioan looked at his cast mate with a dark smile.

Glad I’m not the only one, Ioan replied, smiling. He looked at the pint that he’d set down. Easy enough to get pissed, and then go home and wank off to the thoughts of a certain woman who entertained his fantasies. He looked over at her, watching as she got up and went towards the door. Orlando didn’t notice, or if he did, he though she was going to the loo.

He followed, watching every move she made. He only wanted to taste her lips once, then he’d leave her alone, never talk to her again, let her fall off the face of the earth if he had to. Then he remembered her brother. He would be tormented every time he saw Jude from the moment he kissed his sister.

She pushed the door open, and welcomed the cool air as it hit her skin, and threw her arms out in jubilation. She’d been waiting for the right moment to act upon her attraction for Ioan, and from what she saw, he was receptive. Desire thrummed through her body. She’d found it hard to go back to Orlando after the dance with Ioan.

She heard the door open again, and moved out of the way to let the stranger pass. But it was no stranger.

Tease, he said, his accented voice running over her body like warm liquid.

Tease, she repeated, turning to look him in the eye, you’re just as much a tease as I; she squared her chin defiantly, daring him to tell her otherwise.

Do you have any idea how much you could burn yourself if we were to act on the attraction that we feel for each other? He asked, grabbing her arm and pulling her with him around the corner to a dimly lit alleyway.

I’d hurt him, yes, She looked up at him, her eyes clear as crystal. But what about me, Ioan? I have to do what’s right for me. Doesn’t my happiness matter as much as his? Isn’t’ it a question of what will make me happy? Content? A better wife, she whispered sensually.

Is this what you want? He asked, leaning in close to her. She closed her eyes and sighed. I dream of having you in my arms, he whispered, staring into her eyes. I dream of having you in my bed, in my house, everywhere. It kills me to see you with him.

We can’t, she said, trying to escape.

Why the bloody hell not? He asked, pushing her against the wall, forgetting whatever manners he’d been taught by his parents. His hand traveled up her arm in a loving gesture. She looked at him, her eyes turning darker with desire.

It’s wrong, she said, all the while arching into his body. He ran his finger across the top of her chest, just below her neck, and felt her shudder.

Does he make you feel like this? Ioan asked, pressing her against the wall, and moving so that he was pressed against her tightly. Does he make you feel like you’re on fire, that you’ll explode if nothing gives? He touched his fingers to her sides. She gasped as his hands lifted the shirt slightly and touched her bare skin. Does he make you gasp in both shock and pleasure? Ioan asked harshly.

No, the traitorous word came out of her mouth, hanging in the air about them. He doesn’t, she added, looking up at him. His manly pride complimented him on a job well done. He’d gotten her to admit it. He’d gotten her to admit her attraction toward him.

Good, he said, moving so that she could sag against him. He straightened her out, helped her stand with the balance she usually had and proceeded to walk away.

Ioan? She called softly after him. His name on her lips almost caused him to turn back and have her then and there.

Go back to your husband, dear, He said, but when he makes love to you, remember what I just proved. He can’t make you feel the way I do, He walked off, out into the night, leaving her wanting, just as she made him want her.

Anyone need a host?

2005-01-13T06:56:25Z

I'm sorry if I'm not supposed to do this, but I'm looking for a writer or writers to host on my website. Right now it's mainly a photo site, with the majority of the images being LOTR or boyband related. I also have some links and a page of recs of my own. If this sounds at all interesting, please check out the site and then fill out my application. The link to it is on the home page. Here's the address: http://www.embracetheobsession.us/ and my email is spock74@embracetheobsession.us, so drop me a line if you want. TTFN!!!

knightgasm_rps @ 2004-12-14T19:58:00

2004-12-15T04:00:07Z

ioan/clive

Clive knows he shouldn’t be watching. He knows that he should turn away and go home. Or, if not go back to his flat, at least go to a different pub… a pub away from him.

Instead of doing just that, Clive decided to give into the sweet and tender call of sin and temptation and allowed his eyes to travel to his crotch. Before Clive could really feel get a full and supple view of his cock, Ioan turned around to order another pint from the bartender.

“Damen’t to all fucking hell!” Clive murmured to himself. How was he supposed to fully enjoy Ioan’s body if he kept moving?

Reaching towards his cigarette case on the table, Clive lit a cigarette and inhaled with a sharp breath. Exhaling slowly and lazily through his nose, Clive continued to watch Ioan through the clouded smoke.

Even through the smoke and Clive’s blurry vision from one too many ales, Ioan still looked incredible. Clive’s eyes roamed down Ioan’s body, letting it soak up every centimeter of him; Clive smirked to himself a bit: still wearing a bit of makeup from the days earlier shoot and yet Ioan still looked incredibly gorgeous.

“I’m going to fucking kill him.” Clive whispered to himself once more, shifting uncomfortably from the growing heat coming from his own cock. Sitting in a barely lit booth in the back of the pub, one would hardly notice that he was there. The only real bright light that came from the corner was Clive’s ember red light from his cigarette. It was perfect place to watch people.

He watched as Ioan laughed and jokingly punched Hugh in the arm, Hugh replied with some crude comment that had Keira’s eyes and mouth going wide and shaking her head at Hugh while trying to contain her laughter. Ioan laughed as he excused himself to the bathroom.

Noticing that Ioan was detaching himself from the rest of the group and cast had Clive instantly sitting up from his slouching position and inching forward towards the bathroom entrance near him. Clive watched with intent eyes as Ioan came closer and closer to him.

Extinguishing his cigarette into the nearby ashtray, Clive began to stand up, but just as he was going to intercept Ioan, he realized that he had absolutely nothing to say to Ioan to begin with and couldn’t, for the life of him, think of anything to say. Deciding that he would much rather look like a stalker rather than a complete dumbass talking to Ioan, Clive sat down once again and watched regretfully as Ioan walked right past him, completely unaware of Clive’s presence.

“Fuck!” Clive told himself. Not willing to accept defeat, Clive lit up another cigarette and gathered all his drunken courage and followed Ioan into the bathroom.

As Clive opened the door to the men’s bathroom, he stepped through only to smell baby powder. What the fuck is that? Clive asked himself. Taking a few more steps forward, he noticed the room had a bright pink light to it, and just as realization hit him, so did a shoe.

“Get the fuck outta here! This is the woman’s bathroom!”

Clive was in the wrong bathroom was face to face with a woman waiting in line for the loo. Oh fuck! Clive thought.

“Holy fuck! I’m sorry! I mean-shit!” Clive immediately turned around quickly left the room. Pausing for a moment outside the door, he caught his breath for a moment. Well, fuck, how many fucking pints did I have tonight?”

Suddenly remembering why he had even bothered to come to bathroom in the first place, he walked to other bathroom door and opened it, knowing for sure that this was the right door.

It was empty.

“Fuck!” Clive yelled in disappointment and defeat, he put the cigarette to lips and took a deep breath.

Chuckling a bitter laughter to himself, he swung the door open and walked out. Resuming his place in the booth, he finished the last of his cigarette. Looking up to where the rest of the cast was at, Hugh and Keira had left, undoubtedly together, as did Ioan.

Where the fuck did that little bugger run off to? Clive asked himself. Resigning himself to defeat, Clive began to gather his things to leave, when Mads sat himself down next to him.

“Can I help you with something Mads?” Clive asked, sounding tired, though not annoyed; he enjoyed Mads company, it was cynical and fucking hilarious.

“I have just one question…” Clive could immediately tell that Mads was quite drunk, but unlike the others, he still kept his cool and quietness.

“Which would be…?”

“Do you know the difference between the words: men and women’s bathroom?”

Trying to suppress his rising laughter and spreading smile, Clive flipped Mads off before finally laughing. Soon, both men were laughing so hard that Mads was beginning to lose his balance. Perhaps they were laughing a bit too hard, but the ale was strong and Clive did make an ass out of himself.

“You saw that, eh?” Clive finally asked, grabbing Mads pint away from him and taking a satiating gulp.

“I think the whole fucking pub saw that.” Mads whispered, wiping his hair from his eyes.

“Yeah… probably.”

“Everyone… except Ioan of course.” Clive’s smile slowly disappeared.

Clive was silent for a bit, not out of embarrassment but more out of surprise that Mads noticed so late into shooting the movie. “You saw that too, eh?” Clive asked, leaning into the cushion of the seat.

“Yes, however that one I believe is still unknown to our fellow pub mates. Don’t worry,” Mads continued after seeing concern briefly come across Clive’s face, “who the fuck would I tell?”

“Mmm…” Clive grunted back, the mention of Ioan’s name brought back memories of Ioan’s laughter, the way he drank, his walk, his acting, his ass, his cock… basically just Ioan himself.

Mads reached for Clive’s cigarette case and lit himself a cigarette before reclining into the seat as Clive was. The both just sat there, completely content yet incredibly uneasy at the same time.

“Go to him.” Mads said without looking at Clive, just blowing smoke into little circles into the surrounding air.

“What the fuck do you call what I’ve been trying to do this whole night?”

“Procrastination.” Mads replied simply and calmly.

Clive smiled to himself a bit; Mads was always honest, why the fuck shouldn’t he be? Avoiding the truth was avoiding life.

“Right then, I’ll be off. See you on set tomorrow?” Clive said as he put on his coat, grabbed his cigarette case, and leave some notes for the bill.

“Yeah, yeah, piss off now.” Mads replied still not looking at him and still playing with the smoke his cigarette produced.

The walk to Ioan’s was unsteady and seemed rather long for Clive’s taste, but it was worth it when he finally saw the address. Walking up to the door, he rang the doorbell and waited. And waited, and waited, and waited. After ringing the doorbell for ten more minutes, Clive realized that this was not the proper method to get Ioan to open the door.

Cautiously walking down the steps and halfway into the street, he looked up at the building. Which one is his? Bleeding Christ, I don’t know!

“Ioan!!!!!” Clive began to yell at the building.

No reply.

“Ioan!!!! Where the hell are you?!”

He heard a window open and was relieved that Ioan had finally come; he had to piss really badly.

“If you don’t shut the fuck up I’ll call the police!!” A man was looking out of his window down towards Clive.

“Oh. Fuck. Sorry!!” Clive yelled back.

Turning down the street, he lit another cigarette. “Fuck it.” Clive told himself. Seeing a taxi coming down the street, he stuck out his hand and hailed down the taxi.

Finally reaching his own flat, he argued with the door lock for ten more minutes before finally opening the door. Taking the lift to his room, he opened his door and as soon as he entered he closed the door with his body and leaned his head against the door.

“Where the hell have you been?”

Clive looked up and saw Ioan standing there in black boxers and a black robe. Clive rubbed his eyes for a second and blinked a few times.

“Uh?” Clive asked stepping forward.

“I asked you where the fuck you’ve been. I’ve been waiting here for an hour; I was ready to go to bed!”

Clive was silent for a few moments. Desperately trying to comprehend what was going on. Drawing only blanks, he looked at Ioan in a very confused way.

“You don’t remember do you?”

“No… should I?” Clive asked slowly.

“It was going to be your place tonight. Remember, in bed last night, you wanted me to come over so we could spend a quiet night together. We planned this all last night at my flat.”

The memories were beginning to come back; hazy but resurfacing.

“But you went to the pub after the shoot today.” Clive retorted back.

“For about twenty minutes. I left early for your place and you weren’t here. Thank God you gave me a key; I would have frozen to death.”

“Oh… that’s right. Fuck, I had completely forgotten. Shit, I’m sorry Ioan.”

“Its fine, I was just worried. Wait, how did you know I went to the pub?”

“I followed you of course.”

“What? I didn’t even see you.”

“No, but I saw you.”

“Why didn’t you join us?”

“Watching you from afar is much more interesting. I had forgotten about our meeting and I just…” Clive didn’t finish.

What could he say? I felt the overpowering need to see you and just watch you? That just watching you had made him completely forget about everything else? Ioan is too powerful to be taken lightly, sometimes I need a break… but then I look at you and know that a break from you would be suicide… for me.

“It’s fine.” Ioan said stepping closer towards Clive and pulling him into a tight and strong embrace. Pulling away a little to look into Clive’s eyes, he leaned his forehead against Clive’s and moved to kiss him on the lips.

“Where had you gone?” Ioan asked his hands began to roam under Clive’s jacket and felt his warmth moving onto his hands.

“I…” Clive really didn’t want to recount the shitty night he had so far, he just wanted to enjoy Ioan’s company and kiss the lips that he had been longing for the whole day. “I was detained, that’s all.” Clive said.

Ioan just grunted in reply and promptly pushed Clive’s jacket from his body while Clive’s hands began to roam over Ioan’s chest. Seeing that Clive had too much clothing for his taste, Ioan quickly removed Clive’s sweater and shirt and unbuckled his belt, all the while almost never breaking contact with Clive’s lips.
Clive carefully pushed Ioan’s robe, rather his robe, to the floor and wrapped his arms around Ioan’s neck and inhaled the smell of Ioan’s shampoo. Not bothering to restrain a moan, Clive began to move his mouth to Ioan’s ear, his left to specific, knowing that it was this spot that made Ioan go weak.

“Come to bed.” Ioan said in Clive’s ear.

Ioan walked backwards while Clive guided him to bedroom and when the large white bed came into view, Clive gently picked Ioan up and placed him on the bed, covering Ioan’s body with his. Looking at Ioan’s luscious lips, Clive dived for them and Ioan pushed into him deeper; grabbing Clive’s hair and wrapping his slender legs around Clive’s waist.

Still kissing Ioan, Clive began to remove his shoes and socks and was about to remove his pants when he felt Ioan’s hands on the zipper. Smiling in between kisses, Clive gently stroked Ioan’s arm but with enough pressure to alert Ioan to hurry up.

Finally removing the pants, Ioan carelessly threw them off the bed. And, with all the strength he could muster against the older and stronger man, flipped Clive onto his back and pinned him there with his hands above his head. Winking at Clive before going to kiss him, he licked his lips and began to make a trail of kisses down Clive’s chest before reaching the hem of his boxers.

Pleased with Clive’s already hard cock, Ioan, after much practice, pulled down Clive’s boxers with his teeth and had to contain himself from immediately engulfing Clive’s cock the second it came into view.

Lightly licking the underside of the cock, he enjoyed himself by taking one hand from Clive’s wrists and fondled his balls. Clive grunted and began to write a little. Just feeling Ioan’s tongue on his cock had Clive ready to burst, he wanted to last.

Sitting up from his position, Clive brought Ioan up towards his face and kissed him deeply. Reaching over into the bedside drawer, he reached for the lube and opened it.

“You’re ruining my foreplay. You know how much I love foreplay.” Ioan said with mock disappointment.

“Fuck foreplay,” Was all Clive said before rubbing some lube onto his cock and gently pushing Ioan down so his head was hanging over the edge of the bed.

Ioan automatically lifted his legs to go over Clive’s shoulder and opened himself to take all of Clive in him on one push. Ioan looked up at Clive, nothing but pure lust and arousal flamed within them. Clive knew the look well and it was with this look that Clive burned into his memory as he closed his and entered Ioan.

Unlike Clive’s normal slow and rather sweet process of making love, Ioan was surprised, and incredibly turned on, by Clive’s aggressive force. However, not ever one to turn away Clive or his cock, he welcomed the familiar yet never boring feeling of being filled to the complete max.

Amidst the groans and grunts, Clive felt the tension and weariness from the day leave him with each hard and powerful thrust into Ioan. All the tension had been relieved when they both finally came together. Both sweating and panting, Clive leaned his forehead upon Ioan’s chest as he felt and heard Ioan’s rapid heartbeat.

Clive realized that this feeling, right after having sex and still recuperating for another try, these brief minutes was the missing ingredient in his life. The feeling within him was the one that had been missing from his life all these years. For once in god knows how many years, he felt complete… whole… strong.

What would happen when he would finally have to let go? Would he be able to let go?

NEW RPG

2004-11-08T19:04:35Z

Hello!
I'm sorry if this against community rules, you can delete this if you want to. I just thought I inform you about a new rpg-Camp Slash. It's free for everyone. Choose a character you want to play, send an introduction post and see where it takes you. Already taken characters are: Elijah Wood, Dominic Monaghan, Keira Knightley, Daniel Radcliffe and Jason Behr. So if you want to join or just follow the community, you can find it here:

http://www.livejournal.com/community/slashcamp

Thank you!

FIC: Snapshot, RPF

2004-09-09T13:51:41Z

Title: Snapshot
Author: Trinity Helix
Feedback: Everything to trinity_cross@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: Absolutely nothing is mine, though I desperately wish that Arthur was. :)
Archive: Yes to everyone, as long as the .txt file is intact. Website url, and all. :)
Website: http://trinitycross.net/ka (my ka site)
Warnings: G
Pairings: Ioan/Clive (sorta), Ioan/Alice Evans (his RL girlfriend and co-star in 102 Dalmatians)
Genre: angst
Summary: For the Knights500 Jealousy challenge. 491 words.

Clive looks at the curve of her neck, the fall of her golden hair against her shoulders. Her lips are wine-red, lashes curled and glossed with perfect symmetry. Her long fingers are painted, dark red like her mouth, and she makes a weak fist as she waits with impatience.

FIC: Dream With Me (Clive/Ioan)

2004-09-04T15:37:34Z

Title: Dream With Me
Author: Trinity Helix
Feedback: Everything to trinity_cross@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: Real Person Slash is also code for Never Happened. Really.
Archive: Yes to anyone who wants it, as long as the feedback, site url, etc. links are intact. No need to ask-- go ahead and post it wherever you like. ;)
Website: http://trinitycross.net/ka (my king arthur art and fiction site)
Warnings: Slash, PG
Cast/Pairings: Clive Owen/ Ioan Gruffud
Genre: Romance, Slash, Angst
Summary: In the end it’s not wrong or right, it’s just us.

Comments: A series of drabbles written into one fic. I was sad when I wrote this. :(

***

Ioan wonders if love tastes like ash.

"South of the Sea", Clive/Ioan, Romance, Slash, R

2004-08-20T01:41:42Z

Title: South of the Sea
Author: Trinity Helix
Feedback: Everything to trinity_cross@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: Real Person Slash is also code for Never Happened. Really.
Archive: Yes to anyone who wants it, as long as the feedback, site url, etc. links are intact. No need to ask-- go ahead and post it wherever you like. ;)
Website: http://trinitycross.net/word (my fiction site)
Warnings: Slash, R, RPS
Cast/Pairings: Clive Owen/ Ioan Gruffud
Genre: Romance, Slash
Summary: A driving story and one that isn’t, written into one fic. There is a plot.

Comments: For Sue_Ductive, who makes me think. (Companion fic to Sinister Beauty).

“Have you ever been to the sea?” Ioan had asked at one point, immediately feeling foolish for doing so. It was a mundane question, entirely too ordinary for them, but he figured it was the last vestiges of daylight burning the truth away. Or perhaps exposing it.

FIC: Sinister Beauty (Ioan/Clive)

2004-08-15T15:48:37Z

Title: Sinister Beauty
Author: Trinity Helix
Feedback: Everything to trinity_cross@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: Real Person Slash is also code for Never Happened. Really.
Archive: Yes to anyone who wants it, as long as the feedback, site url, etc. links are intact. No need to ask-- go ahead and post it wherever you like. ;)
Website: http://trinitycross.net/word (my fiction site)
Warnings: KinkFic for Knights500, though I didn’t make it to the word count. Kink Alerts: Knife, Very Mild Non-Con, Blood (a tiny bit)
Cast/Pairings: Clive Owen/ Ioan Gruffud
Genre: PWP
Summary: Clive and Ioan smut. No redeeming factors whatsoever...
Comments: I wrote this for Rachel, owner and co-mod of Knights500. Welcome back, luv. ;) (She asked me to enter the challenge I tossed out this week, but I couldn’t seem to stop writing. This is smut, but extremely long-winded smut. *eeps*.)

"He is a large man, both taller and wider than Ioan, and it’s a wild sort of power to hold him like this, to mark his flesh with his teeth and his mouth."

READ IT HERE: http://www.livejournal.com/users/trinityhelix/6084.html

Stuff of Legends

2004-08-11T18:42:24Z

Stuff of Legends
Ioan/Hugh
NC-17

“Did you know that in Athurian legend that Lancelot is often Galahad’s father?”

The comment came out of nowhere, and Ioan let out a hearty laugh, almost spilling his ale over his shirt. He cast a sideways glance at Hugh who was taking a healthy swig from his beer, and then set it down. He looked at Ioan for a moment, as if expecting him to add something.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Ioan chuckled, setting his beer down on the table before he spilt anymore of it.

“Well, given recent events these past nights - ” Ioan was certain Hugh was blushing, “ – I thought it was somewhat interesting in a certain light.”

“Basically what you’re saying is that because I’m Lancelot and you’re Galahad that we’re committing incest because you’re really my son,” Ioan said, all the while trying not to laugh.

Either Hugh wasn’t offended or simply didn’t notice. “In a way, yes. The movie is far different from any of the Athurian legends I’ve ever read, it only takes certain aspects from those legends and incorporates them into film so that audiences may recognize some of the characters.”

“You need to stop drinking,” Ioan said, grabbing Hugh’s beer and nudging it away from him. “And stop reading so much into everything. The movie is based on some historical fact and taking from legends at the same time, yes. But there is no way that in the film Galahad is Lancelot’s son. For Christ’s sake, they’re almost the same age.”

“I’d say that Galahad is probably at least five years younger than Lancelot and Arthur who are likely the same age,” Hugh said.

Ioan grinned, leaning over and looking Hugh in the eyes. “I seriously doubt that Lancelot had sired a son at the ripe age of five.”

Hugh smiled broadly, taking back his beer. “Do you think Galahad and Lancelot were fucking?”

“Are we still talking about the movie or the legend?” Ioan asked, furrowing his brow.

“I wouldn’t put it past anyone in these legends. They’re like the Egyptians in a way, fornicating with brothers and sisters simply to keep power in the family.”

“But not sons. And no one trying to keep power in any family. But I suppose anything before the Twentieth Century is just odd.”

Hugh shrugged. “Things like this are shady. I mean, look at The Iliad. Clearly Achilles and Patroclus were lovers, but some say cousins as well. Clearly incestuous.”

“But not sons,” Ioan said again with a slight laugh.

Hugh shook his head. “Never mind. The point is, do you think it is possible that Lancelot and Galahad went to bed with each other on occasion?”

“Hard for me to judge from a script that someone else wrote,” Ioan smiled, taking another drink of his beer, “but judging by the way the Knights all behave, I would not put it past them to engage in some sort of drunken back woods orgy every now and again.” He looked at Hugh for a moment, and then smirked. “Clearly in film-verse Galahad and Gawain are engaging in some sort of relationship, and Gawain is obviously wearing the pants. And let’s not even acknowledge the fact that you spend the majority of the movie in a skirt.”

Hugh laughed, throwing his head back and scratching at his beard. “I, on the other hand, have magnificent thighs.”

Ioan smiled, finishing off his beer. “Now, if you were to ask me if Hugh Dancy and Ioan Gruffudd were fucking, I’d say - ”

“Yes,” Hugh breathed, before Ioan could finish his sentence.

It was in that one word that Ioan knew they had to leave. Hugh had always looked young for his age, and there was nothing that turned Ioan more than the look on his face when he was flushed with arousal. Standing up and throwing money for the beer and a tip onto the table, Ioan grabbed Hugh by the arm and dragged him out of the pub.

---

There was always something desperate and almost animal about their love making, especially after they had a few drinks. Hugh made the most delightful noises whilst in the throes of passion, and Ioan’s name rolled like velvet off of his tongue. Ioan fisted Hugh’s hair in his hand, letting out a low moan when the other man bit down on the tender skin of his neck, beard scratching at his flesh. He didn’t mind it in the slightest, even though he knew the marks would get him nearly castrated in make-up the next morning.

Hugh arched his body into Ioan’s, twining one leg with Ioan’s thighs, the other moving around his lover’s hip. He longed for that perfect angle, where his cock would press against Ioan’s stock, and Ioan would hit that sweet spot that drove him mad. Swallowing hard, Hugh brought his hands to Ioan’s shoulders, gripping him hard enough to leave behind half moon prints where his fingernails had just been.

A moment later Hugh was sure he was dying, letting out a low moan and a soft cry almost at the same time. Ioan grabbed his thighs and pulled him closer, his back moving swiftly over the sheets. Hugh moved his hips in time with Ioan’s, albeit languidly in comparison to the driving – almost drilling – motions of Ioan’s hips. Gasping when Hugh felt Ioan coming inside of him, Ioan let out a hoarse cry and collapsed on top of him.

Hugh laid there a moment, fingers nestled in Ioan’s mess of curls, contemplating the fact that he would most definitely need a shower and new sheets. Ioan rested his head on Hugh’s chest, laughing almost to himself, fingers moving carelessly over Hugh’s face.

“What’s so funny?” Hugh asked, barely avoiding Ioan poking him in the eye.

“Oh, nothing,” Ioan breathed, closing his eyes. “I’m just contemplating whether or not if Lancelot and his own son had been lovers, if it would’ve been the stuff of legends.”

Licking Wounds

2004-08-05T16:08:41Z

Licking Wounds
Ioan/Hugh
NC-17

There was a point in which Hugh would let out some sort of bastardized whimper, his body going taut, his eyelids screwing shut, his hands searching for some kind of purchase on anything he could grip. At that point Ioan would try to grab at least one of Hugh’s hands, so those nails would not leave his back scarred and sometimes bloodied, but Ioan always left the bedroom with wounds that Hugh would eventually lick clean.

Ioan had learned this his first night with Hugh, the two of them slowly coming down from a drunken high, the faint haze of an alcoholic buzz lingering, neither of them surprised about their location. Hugh’s bed felt like Heaven, soft white linen sheets caressing their bodies as they caressed each other. Ioan had tried not to, but ended up leaving hickeys on Hugh’s neck, and Hugh had clawed at his back until the white sheets needed to be changed for various reasons.

Hugh tilted his head back, strands of his hair sticking to his forehead that didn’t seem to want to move no matter how many times he tried to push them back into place. He eventually stopped caring, his lips parted in an endless moan as Ioan grabbed him by the knees, moving Hugh’s legs from around his waist to his shoulders. Hugh looked at Ioan with wide eyes and the Welsh man grinned, tilting his hips just so –

“Oh fuck, Ioan,” Hugh gasped pitifully, his hands reaching back until they found the headboard.

Hugh almost wanted to cry as Ioan jerked inside of him. Sudden, jerking motions that wracked his body with shudders until the next. He arched his back to try and get more, but Ioan was intent on making him suffer tonight. Already Hugh could feel his toes curling, and his grip tightened on the headboard until he was sure that the wood would splinter under his fingers.

“I am,” Ioan said, his voice straining against the moans that truly wanted to escape his mouth.

And it was only then that Hugh realized he had been chanting, “Fuck me … fuck me …”

Ioan grinned as Hugh’s body began to flush from the heat, from the strain. It happened every time, the blush would start at his cheeks and soon enveloped his whole body. Ioan could see in Hugh’s eyes that he wouldn’t last much longer, but Ioan wasn’t ready for it to end just yet. Hugh swallowed hard, his breath coming out in laboured gasps as he tried to hang on to the threads of his sanity. Grabbing Hugh by the hip, Ioan pulled him closer, the other hand travelling down to the otherwise strainted and neglected cock. Ioan’s hands were calloused and rough from all of the training, and Hugh loved it even though it felt like sandpaper. He whimpered and begged for the touch, sounding utterly pathetic.

And Ioan loved it this way, turning Hugh into putty. And it wasn’t hard in the slightest. Hugh gasped and whimpered Ioan’s name, and suddenly Ioan wanted him to let go of the headboard. Wanted Hugh to mark his body with more scratches, wanted Hugh to make him bleed.

Saying something unintelligible, Ioan grabbed Hugh’s wrists, pulling his hands away from the headboard and tugging until Hugh got the hint and stopped struggling, stopped whimpering and grabbed Ioan by the shoulders, firm thighs moving back around his waist. They’d looked into each other’s eyes for the first time really that night, then breathing hard and kissing until their lips were sore and swollen. Hugh pressed his forehead against Ioan’s and sounded like he was weeping, when in actuality he was moaning, his body beginning to go taut, legs clinging to Ioan as he was pulled up onto his lap, the change in position making Hugh let out a loud cry.

Ioan could feel Hugh’s blunt fingernails digging, scraping, burning his back, and he let out a loud moan, his arms still around Hugh, he crushed the slightly younger man against his body. There was a plateau where Ioan almost screamed, the bitter-sweet dulling pain mingling with his orgasm, and he was certain that if Hugh hadn’t been fighting to breathe that he might have laughed.

---

Ioan laid on his stomach, sprawled out on the bed, eyes opened at half-mast, glancing around the room that was only somewhat his. He tilted his head back slowly, smiling as Hugh sat beside him, leaning over and licking the fresh wounds on his back like some sort of cat. Like he did every night.

There were some scars that Ioan didn’t ever want to heal.

Tango, KA RPS

2004-08-01T05:04:13Z

Title: Tango
Author: Trinity Helix
Feedback: Everything to trinity_cross@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: Real Person Slash is also code for Never Happened. Really.
Archive: Yes to anyone who wants it, as long as the feedback, site url, etc. links are intact. No need to ask-- go ahead and post it wherever you like. ;)
Website: http://trinitycross.net/word (my fiction site)
Warnings: RPS, R, Slash
Cast/Pairings: Clive Owen/ Ioan Gruffud
Genre: Romance

Summary: Sometimes things don’t work out as we plan, and sometimes they just do.

Comments: Because life’s too short not to screw up some bits. ;)

READ IT HERE: http://www.livejournal.com/users/trinityhelix/3829.html#cutid1

knightgasm_rps @ 2004-07-26T03:01:00

2004-07-26T06:59:38Z

Notch by mcee
NC-17 ~ Mads Mikkelsen/Keira Knightley

:: here ::