Wednesday - Weather

[charlies_dragon]

Hiya *waves*

Today's theme is weather

Doesn't matter what fandom or pairing you choose, so long as the prompt (song lyrics, one word, a picture, whatever) somehow relates to weather.

Please make things easier for the codemonkeys and their pinch-hitters, and code your prompts correctly:

Examples:
~ RPS; Jared/Jensen; snow day
~ Harry Potter; Remus/Sirius; unseasonably hot
~ SG-1; Janet/Sam; a winter cold in summer

Also, please make sure that you only have one prompt per comment as it makes it easier for everyone and gives you more chance of getting a fic in return for leaving the prompt :)

You can leave and answer as many prompts as you want to, or even write your own. If you don't see anything you fancy writing from the prompts left today, feel free to head on over to the Lonely Prompts page and see what takes your fancy from them ;)

You ready? Go forth and have FUN!

charlies_dragon

Comments

[charlies_dragon]

RPS; Jared/Jensen; snow day

[andrea-deer.livejournal.com]

The Supernatural crew was awesome and they felt like a one, big, happy family... That's why Jared knew that when he finally get out of this mess he's not going to kill the ones who messed up and left him here. For now tough it seemed like a great idea. He huffed an irritated sigh, very Sam-like he noted oddly.
He was so tired when they were packing up the stuff and getting ready to leave the scene and go back to the studio. And it was always taking a freakish long amount of time to get everything packed, so Jared figured it's a perfect opportunity to catch a nap.
He decided to pull off the Winchester-nap and squeezed himself in the backseat of the Impala, covering with thick blanket. At first it seemed impossible to fall asleep there... And then he was fast asleep, not caring for a thing in the world.

By the time he woke up everything was gone and from the window of the Impala he could see only snow, some trees and the old house that played hunted house in last episode. And that's all. No one in the line of sight. Jared swore and got his cell-phone.

Before he managed to hear the first ring tough, the door opened and Jensen squeezed himself in the backseat, letting the cold wind flew into the car. Jared shivered and Jen quickly closed the door, rubbing his hands to gain some heat.

"What the hell?" asked Jared.

"They kinda decided to not bother with getting Impala back and leave her here to suffer the cold and snow till later, since the truck that were supposed to drive it got stuck somewhere on the road." Jensen smiled suddenly. "Apparently they forgot someone decided to buck in the backseat."

"Very funny," growled Jared, shivering again.

"Hey, be glad I remembered!" smiled Jensen and one of his hand sneaked under Jared's blanket.

Jared hissed feeling the cold hands touching his leg under the leg of his pants. He glared at his smiling co-star and then shook his head.

"You came back for me and now you want to use me to get warm?"

"Seems like a good idea to me," smiled back Jensen, moving on the seat, trying to accommodate now sitting up Jared. "After all, I think I deserve some prize for finding your freezing ass and offering to drive you home in my car, which not like this one, actually has gasoline."

Jared huffed a laugh and moved against Jensen, pushing him back into the backseat. Pressing tight against him.

"Well far from me to not pay my debts..."

[charlies_dragon]

Harry Potter; Remus/Sirius; unseasonably hot

[jade-starlight.livejournal.com]

The summer was scorching, hotter than usual, and there were times when Sirius was positive that he was going to melt into a puddle of Padfoot. His clothes were sticking to his skin, his hair was limp and damp and the heat was sucking up all his energy.

But when Remus was around, it didn't seem to matter. Like Remus could keep the worst of the heat away with nothing more than the power of his presence. When Remus was nearby, the only heat he could feel was the heat of his arousal. And that particular heat was much more pleasurable.

[charlies_dragon]

SG-1; Janet/Sam; a winter cold in summer

[charlies_dragon]

NCIS; Gibbs/DiNozzo; evidence ruined by the heat on the back seat

[hawk-soaring.livejournal.com]

"Evidence." It was all he could manage and, given the circumstances, he thought he was doing well to get even that one word out.

"Don't worry about it," came the gruff reply and he had to swallow around the "sorry" that threatened to bubble to his lips. He settled for a nod and wished he hadn't done that as the room began to tilt and his stomach decided to see if it really could turn inside out.

Luckily for him -- and for the man holding him more or less upright -- his stomach was empty and all that he could manage were a few gagging sounds.

He gasped for air when the heaves had passed. "But --"

"I said not to worry about it. The evidence was already ruined by the heat. Sitting on the back seat for five hours in the direct sunlight is apparently not good for forensics. Who knew?"

He could hear the frustration behind the words and winced. It was his fault --

A gentle slap made contact with the cak of his head. "Not your fault, Tony. I tossed it there when I finally realized you were missing." Jethro paused and Tony sighed softly.

Missing. Such an innocuous word for it. He'd been searching the docks, calling out to Jethro now and again, more to keep track of where they were than anything else. The place was long deserted -- or so they'd thought. Apparently they'd thought wrong and their fugitive hadn't moved on. Instead, he took Tony hostage, using him as a human shield before running. Eventually he had knocked him unconscious and shoved him into a dry well.

The final showdown as it were was the suspect against the NCIS and FBI with a few local cops thrown in for good measure -- and he had decided he was going to go down fighting.

It took them another four hours to get dogs on scene and to finally sniff out Tony's location. In that time, the sun had beaten down on his position mercilessly. He was severely dehydrated, had more than a touch of sunstroke, sunburn, and a couple of sprains, bumps and bruises.

He had immediately been transported to the nearest hospital where they splinted his sprains, gave him some medicated cream for his sunburn, and ran a couple of bags of saline through an IV to combat the dehydration. When they had asked how he was doing, he put on his brightest smile and lied through his teeth. That was how he ended up in a hotel in the middle of nowhere with Jethro looking out for him.

"Sleep, Tony. I've got you."

Tony sighed softly, snuggling into the strong arms that held him.

[charlies_dragon]

Supernatural; Dean/Cassie; tears washed away by the rain

[morgan-cian.livejournal.com]

Dean sat on the hood of the Impala, his face lifted. The rain was cool against his cheeks. He liked the rain. His tears were washed away and no one knew the difference.

Cassie, just her name made his stomach cramp. Hardly his first girl, but his first...she was the first to get behind his armor, his persona, she was the first one that saw him.

He never knew anything other than the transient life he had always led. But he saw, the perfect little homes, the perfect little lawns, the perfect little famlies.

If he didn't lie to himself, he would admit that was what he wanted for himself, for Sam. A sense of permanence, longevity, a piece of himself to carry on the Winchester name. To hold Sammy's kid and see the dopey grin on his brother's face.

Rain. Cassie. Driving away once more without looking back. He closed his eyes and felt the sting on his cheeks. Many miles between dreams and reality.

Sam's hand own his shoulder made him open his eyes. For once Sam didn't push, didn't try to talk. Instead, he gave a gentle tug.

"Let's get you inside out of the rain."

Inside where it was warm, inside where it was his family, his brother, inside and away from his memories.

[charlies_dragon]

Supernatural; wee!Sam & wee!Dean; look cooked from all the sun

(Please, NO wincest here, just childish fun *g*)

Supernatural; wee!Sam & wee!Dean; look cooked from all the sun

[wellowned.livejournal.com]

they're three days into a job on the florida coastline, and they haven't spent a single day inside. the motel's ten minutes from the beach where there's endless swimming and sand and cheap icees for when it gets too hot. john's working hard and just sends up a thankful prayer that his boys are out from underfoot and that dean knows how to take care of his brother.

they're three days into a job on the florida coastline when the rain finally hits and they realize just how sunburnt they are. the raindrops sizzle on their skin, looking cooked from hours spent under the magnifying glass of ocean water. and they can't be happier.

dean's a resourceful older brother, even if he occasionally flicks sam just to hear his hiss of pain. he charms the lady at the desk for some aloe, spreading it over the worst of the burns on sammy's back and face.

the rain lasts for 4 days, the rest of the job. and dean peels away the burn of the sun to reveal more freckles than he can remember either of them having. and counts them until they fade from three days on the florida coastline, three days in the summer sun.

[dergerm.livejournal.com]

Firefly; Mal/Jayne; fog

[daria234.livejournal.com]

It was a nice planet. At night.

During the day it was all sharp things and slime and Alliance-manufactured buildings practically falling apart while you walked by 'em.

But at night, the fog swept in, and nothing was visible except the deep blue outline of the mountains in the distance, and cloudy moisture settling over the towns like blankets on dogs.

Mal and Jayne were alone now, the rest of the crew taking time for themselves. Jayne was sitting there silently, forced into patience, knowing that it wasn't his place to start it, or even to ask.

Humans were not domesticated animals, Mal knew. Humans could never really be _tamed_, just... kept temporarily in check. So if someone is a self-centered killer ruled by anger and fear, then that's who they were. No use pretending otherwise.

So keep Jayne waiting. Let him know at the animal level that Mal was the pack leader. Mal would decide if and when they kissed, if and when Mal's hands would grip Jayne's heavy shoulders to push him to his knees, if and when Jayne was allowed to stay or speak or even look at him after. And swift punishment if Jayne was overeager.

He would keep Jayne in line, let him feel his captain's authority in his gut and in every other part of his body. And Jayne might think twice about betraying him for a quick buck or finally punching the pretty doctor.

But if Mal let Jayne have the upper hand even for a second, Jayne would get ideas. And the whole crew would suffer. So Mal would never let Jayne forget his place, never let him forget who the lead wolf is.

Even though it was exactly Jayne's feral side that Mal wanted most. It was his grunts and growls, and the way his teeth brushed against Mal, making it clear that part of him wanted to bite. It was the fact that no matter what Mal did, Jayne would never be utterly predictable, never be domesticated. Hell, besides his skills in a fight, it was the only damn thing Mal truly respected about Jayne.

But Mal knew that it was best for everyone if Jayne hated that part of himself, and thought Mal hated it too.

Keep the beast in check. Never show too much mercy. Never hold him when he wakes up screaming, never let him come until he's suffered a good while, never let him know that it's the best damn sex he's ever had. Never let him know that if it weren't the case that the ship and the crew always come first, Mal would drag Jayne by the scruff his beard to the nearest out-of-the-way world and just stay in a cabin forever, ruttin' and arguin' and more ruttin' again, lost in a fog of muscle and anger and heat.

Instead, he would smack Jayne on the face right where his seed had landed, and say, "Go back to your bunk, Jayne. I've had enough of you."

[lorilann.livejournal.com]

Leverage, Eliot/Hardison, rain

[havenward.livejournal.com]

Hardison flinches as another roll of thunder cracks the sky open. The storm is practically right on top of them, and it's loud, a whip crack that shakes the windows and his bones. Sounds like a damn gun, and he's had enough of guns for one day (or week, or month, or...) thank you very much.

The plan went wrong. Very wrong. Ok, not like that thing you think is the ghost of your dead husband is really a Cyberman wrong, not hey you're standing on the opening to a rancor's den wrong. But very very wrong.

Their comms had been compromised. They'd been shot at. The mark knew all their faces. Knew where they'd set up their HQ.

And now Alec's in the safe house alone.

He's already got the new system up and running, knows that Nate and Sophie reached the place they set up on the edge of town and are safe. He hasn't heard from Parker yet, but she wasn't there, she wasn't in danger, so he won't worry about her til Nate tells him to.

Eliot though. Where the hell is Eliot?

His mind is dancing with images of torture and death, punctuated by the crack and roll of the storm outside. It's getting heavier, the rain coming down in sheets so thick he can't see out the windows anymore, not really. And Eliot could be out there, bleeding out in an alley alone somewhere. In that.

And then the door slams open. Alec jumps up, half expecting Sharpe's men, but it isn't. It's Eliot, half leaning into the door frame and soaked through and through, his long hair plastered to his face and neck. Alec is at his side in an instant, helping him in, closing and bolting the door.

"Stop fussin' over me," Eliot says, but there's no bite in his words and he puts a little more weight on Alec while they walk toward the bathroom.

"I'm not fussin'. I don't fuss. My Nana fusses, but me? No, no."

"Hardison," Eliot says, but the boy's still babbling. So it's really not his fault that Alec doesn't see the kiss coming and ends up entirely distracted by the feel of Eliot's warm body under his cold, wet clothes while he presses him into the wall.

He catches on pretty quick though, peels away cotton and silk and denim with deft fingers. By the time Eliot's shoving him into the shower, turning the water on hot and steaming, he's totally forgotten the storm...

[toestastegood.livejournal.com]

Merlin, Arthur/Merlin, heat wave

[cyphersushi.livejournal.com]

I am sorry about this, I tried for smut but the boys just wanted to be cute... Hope it is ok.


Arthur was hot. He was more than hot - he was positivly steaming... Merlin was sure he could see steam rising from the prince's tunic where he stood beside his father in the gazing sun. Far be it for him to dislike a sweaty Arthur but he definetly liked it better when he was the cause rather than the unrelenting heatwave plaguing Camelot this week.
An idea formed in his head and with a final look at his more and more uncomfortable looking master he slipped into the castle and made his way towards Arthurs chambers.

It was only the years of training and dicipline that kept him from falling down before the ridiculus demonstration was over. Arthurs mood had worsened for every drop of sweat that trickled down his neck and when he could finally excuse himself he more or less fled towards his chambers. All he wanted to do was to tear all his clothes off and find a surface at least a bit less scorching than his skin.

"Merlin, I need you t..." Arthus stopped in his tracks as he stepped into his suite. "What the..." He could not belive his eyes... Looking out through the window he could still see the hot summer sun and blue skies but inside- inside it was snowing.

"You might want to close the door..." Merlin sounded amused and Arthur snapped out of his wonder long enough to kick the door closed and lock it.

"It's snow... there is snow in my room!" Arthur was vaguely aware that he was sounding like an idiot but he honestly did not care. He extended his hand and caught some of the whirling snowflakes in his hand. The melted instantly against his over-heated skin and felt wonderfully cool. The snowflakes where circling around in impossible patterns and when he stepped further into the room they started whirling around him, sticking to any naked skin and cooling him further. Letting out something that might have been a giggle if he hadn't been Arthur, Crown Prince of Camelot, who never ever giggled he spun around before facing Merlin. Merlin who was standing there leaning against the wall smiling with snowflakes caught in his hair.

"So you approve then, sire." Merlin said and then he didn't say anything more as Arthur decided to find what snowflakes on Merlins lips tasted like.

[toestastegood.livejournal.com]

Being Human, George/Mitchell, sun-bathing vampires

[dragonlet.livejournal.com]

"God, Mitchell!"

Mitchell raised his sunglasses up a fraction and looked up at George. "What?"

"You--You're--naked!" George had one hand over his eyes and was whimpering faintly.

"Lots of people sunbathe naked, George, it's not'ing unusual." He lowered the glasses, which hid the small eyeroll, but grinned.

"There's not even that much sun," George whined, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the thin ray of sun that fell across Mitchell's back--Not that he was looking. No.

"Well I'm a vampire, not a big fan of sunlight," he adjusted his position on the loungechair.

"You--It--That--I am never going to be able to sit on that again, do you realize that?" George gave up on the hand and crossed his arms over his chest. As long as he wasn't looking at his ass--no, no eyes above the neckline, dammit--he was fine.

"I've got a towel under," Mitchell sighed, long and dramatic, and he watched George from over the tops of his glasses, amused.

"The neighbors will see!" George sputtered, feeling his cheeks warm.

"Ohhh so t'at's what it's about," Mitchell lifted his head again and grinned. "Yeh don't like t'idea of anyone else seein'. Yeh want me to yehrself."

The warmth over George's face spread, and grew. "I didn't--you're--Stop it!"

Mitchell chuckle and rested his head on his arms. "I'm just sun-bathing."

[toestastegood.livejournal.com]

Heroes, Mohinder/Monica, rainy day

let's pretend apartments have roofs, shall we?

[the]

The tiny drip and splash of water hitting water seemed to echo through Mohinder’s apartment. Little droplets fell from the ceiling and into the plastic bucket on the kitchen table. Monica watched the ripples skeptically, every so often glancing at Mohinder, who appeared unaware that he was living in a cliché.

“I can fix that for you,” she said, cradling her tea in her palm (it was cheap, no-name chai from a local supermarket that held very little flavor without the assistance of three sugar packets).

“I don’t believe I put shingling on that iPod,” he replied. He was looking for a misplaced address among the mess of papers on his desk; his tone was only half-interested.

“Google’s been real helpful.” Monica set her mug down and stood up, observing the ceiling. “The other day I learned how to shave a cat by complete accent.”

“Then you might want to talk to Mrs. Davis next door,” he rambled. “Always complaining about clumps of hair, every single day.”

“Have you told your landlord about the leak?”

“Multiple times.” Apparently defeated, he cast a contemptuous look at his disheveled desk, sighed, and let his hands fall to his sides. “Since I moved in. I think I made a wise decision investing in a bucket.”

“That’s technology for you,” she smiled that smile, the one that told him he wasn’t paying attention to the normal things again. “There to make your life easier.”

Mohinder took her mug off the table and refilled it, handing it to her. She accepted gratefully and tried not to grimace at the unadulterated flavorlessness of it.

“He goes to church on Sunday,” Mohinder said with a hint of criticism, inherent in any scientist on the subject of religion. “You can fix it then – if you want to.”

She might not have, if he protested her leaning against him, back to his chest, like he used to. Instead, his arms wrapped around her waist and he relaxed. Three days was more than enough time to learn how to shingle – and to find out where to buy a decent box of tea.

[toestastegood.livejournal.com]

Lost, Claire/Juliet, freak storm

Let It Rain

[ozmissage.livejournal.com]

It never rains here. The sun always shines, a cool breeze blows in from the ocean, it’s never too hot or too cold---it’s boring as hell.

Juliet hates it, the sameness of it day after day.

(Are there days anymore? They never seem to end, she thinks.)

“You’ll get used to it after awhile,” Claire lies. (She hasn’t, just like she hasn’t stop prowling the jungle listening for a baby’s cry, but she figures it’s best to offer comfort when you can.)

Juliet’s been there two weeks (months? years?) when the storm hits. Lightening streaks across the sky, thunder rumbles overhead and then the rain comes, drenching them in a matter of moments.

Claire laughs and tilts her head up towards the sky, holds her tongue out to catch the rain.

“Is this normal?” Juliet yells to be heard over the storm. She knows it isn’t.

Claire grabs Juliet’s hands and spins her in the parody of a dance.

“No!” she shouts back.

It’s the first time anything has happened in a very long time. It feels dangerous and exciting and they’re just grateful to be feeling anything at all.

Claire’s enthusiasm is infectious. Juliet begins to laugh despite herself.

“Then let’s make the most of it.”

She presses a kiss against Claire’s wet lips, tastes the salt from the rain.

At least it’s something different.

[toestastegood.livejournal.com]

Demons, Galvin/Luke, lightning

Lightning, Demons, Galvin/Luke

[entropynchaos.livejournal.com]

The lightning strikes every so often – the seconds between each flash shortening as the storm moves closer. The flashes are followed by the rumble of thunder that seems loud enough to shake the building they’re in, but Luke just buries his face in the space between Galvin’s neck and shoulder, biting at the skin there to stifle his whimper.

Galvin rolls his hips, pushing up into Luke, swearing softly with every thrust. He’s panting from the exertion – but Luke knows Galvin will wait for him. He always does, forcing Luke over the edge before he follows, drawing blood from his own bottom lip or Luke’s, caught between his teeth.

Luke threads his fingers through Galvin’s hair, his head rolling back on the pillow as Galvin presses finger-shaped bruises into his hips, the pain causing the pleasure to spike and he keens high in his throat as Galvin pulls almost all the way out and slams back in. When he looks up, Galvin’s staring down at him, illuminated in the next sudden flash of light with a look of almost soft wonder in his eyes. He drags the older man down to him, sealing their mouths together in a kiss as the thunder makes the windows rattle in their frames and he screams his triumph into the space between Galvin’s lips, the sound swallowed up by the biting fierceness as Galvin pushes himself impossibly deeper into Luke’s very being.

[toestastegood.livejournal.com]

Leverage, Eliot/Hardison, you're afraid of thunder? Seriously?

[maab-connor.livejournal.com]

“You’re afraid of thunder? Seriously? Man, that’s messed up,” Alec said when he saw Eliot jump at the latest clap of thunder.

“I’m not-“ Eliot snapped and then forced himself to calm. He took a deep breath. “I am not afraid of thunder,” he said between his teeth.

“Look at you, all tense and jumpy. This is not how an ass-kickin, muscle guy is supposed to act. Now you go get like a… chai latte or something while I try to get into the grid and get us some power up in here.” Alec turned his attention back to his laptop and typed at a thousand miles an hour.

Eliot started pacing.

Lightning cracked the sky and thunder shook the air.

Eliot stopped dead, his entire body tense. Alec saw it. He’d never seen Eliot like this. He was up and across the room in a moment, the only light the dim illumination from the laptop on the table. “Hey man. You alright?”

Eliot growled deep in his throat.

Alec sighed. Eventually he would get to a point when he could foresee these things. “You know,” he said, his voice quiet and gentle, “my Nana had this German Shepherd,” he wound his arms around Eliot’s waist gently, “and let me tell you, that thing was fierce. Nipped at the mailman, barked whenever anyone went near Nana’s purse. Perfect dog. One problem though,” he held tighter, pulled Eliot’s head to his shoulder and exposed his neck, “every time there was a thunder storm that big, bad ass dog would go hide in the bathtub and shake and pant.” He smiled slightly as Eliot’s arms came around him and Eliot breathed deeply in his scent. “One night, the dog was sleeping in my bed – he liked me – and a thunderstorm rolled in. I just held him in close and talked real calm to him. He calmed right down.”

“I’m not a dog,” Eliot mumbled into the flesh of his nape, nosing in under his shirt.

“Baby, I know that. I just lost track, that’s all.” He let his hands wander up under Eliot’s shirt, petting him gently up and down his back. “I got so caught up with the job that I forgot tomorrow was the full moon.”

“S’ok. I’m just glad you didn’t run screaming when I told you. I know it’s hard to take in.”

“Shh, don’t you even worry about that.”

“Hey Alec?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Please tell me that you didn’t get that hard for the German Shepherd.”

"Man, shut up, we're having a moment here."

[lorilann.livejournal.com]

Reaper, Sam/Devil, I can change the weather

[lorilann.livejournal.com]

Law & Order: SVU, Elliot/Olivia, snowed in

Thank God for Snow

[maiel-alcinoe.livejournal.com]

(hope its not totally pants!)

The snow had fallen as if it was an invitation for something to happen. Snowed into the lodge that was only meant to serve as a resting place while they visited the place where their victim had been taken from. Not something they normally did but then their kind of crime was rarely if ever the norm.

If anyone from the PD could see them now well they might need their eyes cleaning. Olivia was bent over, legs slightly akimbo, her backside a deep shade of pink. Her breath was heavy with desire and longing that was reflected in the rest of her flesh. Her pussy dripped with the liquid evidence of her wanton reaction to the punishment that was being inflicted.

Elliot dipped a hand between her legs his fingers running across her nub causing her body to tremble. "El," she moaned which only resulted in another slap across her already sore posterior.

Moving to stand behind her he said not a word, one hand pushing her legs further apart while the other moved to her breast tweaking a nipple gently at first before he tugged more sharply on it. He watched in satisfaction as her head jerked backwards, without warning he plunged into her debating whether to cum inside her or over her face. His thrusts were hard, almost like a rutting animal in heat.

As he moved he watched as one hand moved between her legs and as she made contact with her clit her groans increased and she thrust backwards to meet him. The motion became timed to meet each other in a singular movement and then suddenly Olivia climaxed. Her body quivered and he delighted in the sensation before pulling out and flipping her round, before she had timed to protest or say anything he pushed her to her knees and with a few quick jerks of his cock he came on her face. Thank god for snow, he said silently.

[andrea-deer.livejournal.com]

X-Files; Mulder/Scully; it's too hot for aliens

[pipisafoat]

"No."

"But Scully--"

"No. It's way too hot for aliens, Mulder." Scully's feet were propped up on the desk, toes wiggling in the slight air flow from the dilapidated fan. "It's too hot for vampires, it's too hot for werewolves, it's too hot for Yetis, liver monsters, ghosts, and even fire creatures. The only thing it's not too hot for is ice cream." She raised one eyebrow at him. "Ice cream, Mulder. Find an alien at an ice cream shop and we'll be all over it."

"You want me to make up a case, Scully?" Mulder aimed carefully and launched another pencil to the ceiling. "There are other hot-weather things besides ice cream, anyway."

"Oh, sure. Like milkshakes and frozen yogurt. Ice cold lemonade and air-conditioning. None of these exist in this room, so let's go find some."

He grinned at her. "Like ice cubes and silk ties, Scully. Hot skin and cold ice go well together."

She rolled her eyes. "Not in the office, they don't."

"Oh, don't worry about it. We can always invite Skinner to join in, too."

[andrea-deer.livejournal.com]

House MD; House/Chase; wombats like it hot

House MD; House/Chase; wombats like it hot

[ice-ziggee.livejournal.com]

Steam-room fun ;)

Chase closed the door behind him as quickly as possible so the steam wouldn´t get away. As he walked through the fog he saw the other man sitting on the bench, waiting for him.

“Steam room, very original,” he couldn´t help but joke as he took a seat to House´s left.

House didn´t wait but turned toward him and set his hand on Chase´s knee and trailed upward under the towel until he found his destination. He grabbed the soft flesh and squeezed it lightly in his palm; “I know wombats like it hot,” he whispered in his ear.

Chase couldn´t help but smile and turned his head, raising his hand and running it over House´s stubbles before leaning in and capturing his lips with his.

They made out for a while, tongues teasing mouths and teasing erotic spots, fingers pressing and playing with hot flesh, soft tissues hardening under knowing care.

The need for release came too soon and Chase licked his way down the glistening body before he pushed his mouth over the hard cock. House growled and Chase had to hold him down as he swallowed every drop the man gave him.

Chase pulled a dazed House down for a lazy kiss until House broke it and let his head rest on Chase´s shoulder; “You know, I´ve heard wombats also like it wet,” Chase hinted with a smile and pressed a kiss on House´s shoulder.

[andrea-deer.livejournal.com]

X-Files; Mulder/Krycek; blood cleaned by the rain

[andrea-deer.livejournal.com]

He never thought he'd see him again, but here he was. Standing right before Mulder, with blood on his face and hands. Tha rain was getting heavier and it kept washing away the blood from him, but the small red string still flaw from his cut lip. The rest of the blood... the blood getting washed of his face, the blood on his hands, the blood soaking in his white t-shirt... it wasn't his blood. He just saved Mulder's life again and now stood in the rain, blinking at Mulder and breathing hard after the fight.


Mulder stared at the blood. And at the rain. Both soaking Krycek's t-shirt. Both sliding down his strong arms that were again whole and healthy. Mulder stared at Krycek's blinking eyes, noticing how droplets caught in his eyelashes. Krycek just stared back, probably wondering how Mulder will react. If he'll start asking him questions again or just start hitting him for the sake of it.

Mulder licked his lips, tasting the rain.

"Get in the car, we need to get you somewhere warm, you're soaking."

Krycek blinked, frowning. He shook his head, noticing Mulder's smile and finally just got into the car. He wouldn't mind getting warmer.

[andrea-deer.livejournal.com]

RPS; Jared/Jensen; cowboys in the heat

[morgan-cian.livejournal.com]

Texas was known for many things, drawls as long as a country mile, barbeque, steers, and cowboys. Jared gave no thought to that being a native. He gave no thought to the boots on his feet, the buckle as big as dinner plate, or the hat resting on his head, soaking up sweat in the summer heat. It was Texas.

Until Jensen made his appearance at his family's traditional barbeque. It had become tradition for Jensen to be apart of the annual Padalecki 4th of July celebration. Nothing new there.

But Jensen in a old shirt with arms cut out, exposing muscled biceps, golden in the sunlight, tight blue jeans, pointed boots, and a cowboy hat low on his forehead made Jared's mouth go dry.

The smirk on those gorgeous lips didn't help either. That was Jared's story and he was sticking to it.

It was all Jensen's fault that they were pressed up against each other in the shade of the house. It was Jensen's fault that their jeans were stuck on their thighs, their hands on each other cocks. It was all Jensen's fault when Jared came, burying his face in Jensen's shoulder to muffle his cry.

Yeah, he blamed it on Jensen who panted against the brick of his house, his cowboy hat skewed and a satisfied smirk on those gorgeous lips.

Jensen, however blamed cowboy hats and heat when they fucked under the stars, Jensen's hat planted firmly on his head as he rode Jared's cock better than a bullrider. He sure as hell lasted more than eight seconds.

[catgirlemi-7.livejournal.com]

Leverage, Eliot/Nate, Cloudy Day

[havenward.livejournal.com]

He stands on the balcony, the afternoon light warm on his skin despite the huge, fluffy clouds taking up most of the sky. It's quiet here, on the edge of the sea. Just the crashing waves and his own thoughts.

Eliot tightens his hands on the rails, knuckles turning white. It's too damn quiet to be alone. When did he get used to Hardison's babbling? To Parker's madness? To Sophie's bad acting? To Nate's...

To Nate.

Eliot sighs, turns his back on the gorgeous day and heads back inside his hotel room. It's empty and cold, pretty as it is. There's every luxury he could possibly ask for, right down to the mini bar. But he just stands there at the edge, staring at it without seeing. The last time he'd poured himself a shot of whiskey, all he could think about was Nate. The way the flavor lingered on his tongue when Eliot kissed him.

A knock on the door startles him from his thoughts. He frowns, suddenly tense, and crosses the room silently to peer through the peep hole. He just stares, even as the figure on the other side bangs on the door again.

"C'mon Eliot, I know you're in there! Just open the damned door-" Nate trails off as the door swings open. There's a quirk of a smile on his lips, at the edge of his eyes. He doesn't wait for Eliot to speak, to let him in. To even process that he's there. He just takes the few steps that separate them, one hand coming up to tangle in his hair, and kisses him.

[sagaluthien.livejournal.com]

LOTRIPS, Orlando/Elijah, Torture in the snow

[sagaluthien.livejournal.com]

LOTRIPS, Orlando/Sean Bean, Not good day to fly in

[elebridith]

RPS, Goth!Chris/Goth!Steve, snow

[havenward.livejournal.com]

Steve blushes and ducks his head as Mama fusses over him. (He'd wanted to call her Mrs. Kane, or ma'am, or hell, even her first name, but she'd have none of it at all. "You're family," she insisted, her grin as big as her son's.) Chris only barely convinced her to let Steve cook, and it took the both of them to convince her that he enjoys cooking and that this isn't just like being at work. Of course, at the time he hadn't realized that Chris would be leaving him alone with her, abandoning him in order to dig out the driveway for her.

Steve's seen snow before. Just... never quite this much of it.

"How soon til he's done, do you think?" he asks politely, setting one pan on a back burner as he moves to cut some vegetables.

"Hm, not too much longer," she says. She watches as he finishes with the vegetables, setting them aside as he pulls out what he needs for proper hot chocolate. "You take care of him, don't you." It isn't really a question, and Steve blushes all over again.

"I try," he says.

They sit in companionable silence after that, barring an offer of help or three with what he's got running on the stove. He's just given her a mug to try, and she's humming in approval when the door opens to the sound of Christian stomping his feet.

"That'd best be the sound of you knockin' your feet outside, son," Mama calls.

"It is!" Chris calls back defensively as he comes in.

"Well you've been in California for so long, you might have forgotten," she teases.

Steve pours him a mug before turning, and nearly forgets what he's doing when he sees Chris. His near black hair sparkles with bits of snow. The shoulders of his jacket are dusted white, and snow is caught in the links of the chains hanging from his belt and the edges of his fingerless gloves. His cheeks are tinged pink from the cold, only deepening as he smiles back at Steven.

"You'll hafta come out with me later," he murmurs, blue eyes mischievous as he takes the mug. "We can... make snow angels."

[elebridith]

RPS, Wing!Chris/Steve, rainbow

[badfalcon.livejournal.com]

It's evening and just getting dusky. Chris has dragged Steve up to the roof without telling him why, just a kiss and a promise. They step out to a glorious sky, a full, bright rainbow arcing over their heads; so close Steve feels like he could reach out and touch it. He pulls Christian into his arms and kisses him, moaning when Christian arches his back and spreads his wings.

Christian grins and stretches out. He tilts his face to the sky and inhales deeply before turning and sprinting across the roof, a running jump off the edge of the building, his wings beating furiously. He's laughing as he soars over Steve, somersaulting mid-air then swooping and gliding through the rainbow; his white feathers painted with stripes of colour.