Friday Free-For-All

[idiosyncratic.livejournal.com]

It's Friday, and y'all know what that means!  :)

Anything and everything goes, so come in and have a blast.  Remember, one prompt per comment, and take care of your friendly, neighborhood code monkeys by formatting your prompts correctly.


Single fandom: fandom, pairing, prompt
example: Lotrips, Karl/Harry, just like last time

Crossoves: fandom/fandom, pairing, prompt
example: Supernatural/Angel, Dean/Angel, cocky



Can't find anything in today's prompts?  Feel free to head over to the lonely prompts and make someone happy.  Plus, who knows?  The favor might be returned!

Comments

[idiosyncratic.livejournal.com]

Lotrips, Karl/Harry, just like last time

[idiosyncratic.livejournal.com]

Supernatural/Angel, Dean/Angel, cocky

[morgan-cian.livejournal.com]

Dean was a little out of his element. Not sex with men, but not one with such an aura about him. Angel, a douchebag name for sure, smiled at him and backed him into a wall.

"Such a cocky boy," Angel smiled and dipped into the hollow of Dean's neck, "pretty boy thinks he going to turn the table on me."

Dean pulled back in surprise. "Always on top, the leader," Angel grinned slyly, "but I'm going to show you what it is like to follow."

Dean's eyes rolled back into his head, "Oh god."

"No," Angel laughed, "just an angel."

[veristic.livejournal.com]

SPN, Sam/Dean, "you're such a prude"

Spoilers fo 4x15 (because this prompt was begging for them! :D)

[andrea-deer.livejournal.com]

Dean still was unused to the new laws of physics that applied to ghost and so he got a bit dizzy by the speed with which he was smacked on the wall.

"Dude?!" he yelped, glaring at his brother, holding him tightly by the collar of his shirt.

"Are you insane, Dean? You... You kissed death! DEATH, Dean! That's even worse than banging an angel!"

Dean smiled and cocked his head back with a satisfied look.

"A hot death, tough."

"Dude. DEATH."

Dean just shrugged and Sam pressed him tightly against the cold wall. He looked in his face and right then Sam lowered his head, kissing him hungrily and possessively.
The snort escaped Dean's throat and Sam moved back, raising his eyebrow impatiently in question.

"Kissing ghost of your brother is cool, tough?"

Sam just sighed and shook his head, moving away and starting walking to the funeral home. Dean just snorted again and followed.

[toestastegood.livejournal.com]

Leverage, Eliot/Hardison, bisexuality

sorry, I keep missing the porn boat!

[asimaiyat.livejournal.com]

"Dude, what is this? 250 gigs of... Samantha Gage? Misty Monday? 'Everything's Bigger in Texas'?"

"I said you could use my network to check your email, not do a recon job on my hard drive. And speaking of hard, are you planning on coming back to bed anytime soon? Because I'm, yknow, not done with you yet.... obviously."

"Sorry, man, but when you just leave things out in the open like that, you can't really blame me."

"I s'pose changing my password wouldn't stop you."

"Not really." Alec spun around in his chair and gave an expansive shrug. "I mean, it's not that I have a problem with you having some quality multimedia entertainment. I just sort of assumed that, well, since we... I thought you'd have different taste. In naked people."

"Maybe while you're there, you should google 'bisexuality.'" Eliot laughed to play off the fact that he could tell he was blushing -- he was still getting used to being in a zero-privacy relationship. He grabbed one of Hardison's hands off of the arm of the chair, and yanked him up into a demanding kiss.

"Hey, easy there. I'm not saying I mind sharing you with the ladies!"

"Wait, who said anything about sharing?" Nibble, bite. "Looking is NOT the same as sharing." He backed Hardison against the nearest wall, and then pulled back to share a conspiratorial smile.

"But while you're spying on me, you should grab a copy of that 'Everything's Bigger in Texas' video. It's probably more up your alley than you think..."

[bwhouwant2b.livejournal.com]

Leverage, Eliot/Hardison, home

[toestastegood.livejournal.com]

_{continues from this (http://community.livejournal.com/comment_fic/17164.html?thread=2485772#t2485772)}

Eliot lies spooned behind Hardison, an arm draped over his waist. He doesn't sleep. Hasn't been able to sleep for the past few nights – jumping at shadows instead, ever since Hardison got home from the hospital. He's tired, exhaustion pulling at his shoulders, and he grabs an hour or two at the office when he can't fight it any more.

His mouth nuzzles against the back of Hardison's neck and he breathes in, absorbing the scent of him. Still scares him to think of how close they came to losing him. Scares him – him, the guy who can walk into a room filled with hostile, armed men without blinking.

Hardison's hand moves to hold onto his: not sleeping either, apparently. "I'm okay, man," he murmurs, as if he can read Eliot's mind.

Eliot smiles against Hardison's skin. "I know," he protests. Sure, Hardison's okay – this time. What about the next? Their job is dangerous. Eliot had never worried about Hardison before, not too much. He isn't in the front line. Now, though, now it all seems different.

"Then stop worrying. You're keeping me up." Hardison turns over, his lanky body effortlessly taking up most of the bed. In the shade of their bedroom, Eliot can make out the way Hardison is looking at him, and can tell that he's smiling. "I'm cool with what happened. You should be too. I'm home now. That's what counts, right?"

Eliot nods and maybe he shuffles a little closer, until his head nestles neatly beneath Hardison's chin. "Right," he agrees, trying to push all worries, regrets and guilt away.

[ladybubblegum.livejournal.com]

Being Human, George/Annie, changing

Being Human, George/Annie, changing

[toestastegood.livejournal.com]

Sometimes when she closes her eyes she can see everything: she can feel every lost soul in the world, every soul waiting to cross over. They cry for help, but she is only one woman. Only one ghost. She can't do everything; she can't save everyone.

"I don't know what I am any more," she whispers in the dark. The words come out fractured and broken.

George's arm slides around her shoulders and he pulls her in, gentle pressure until she rests against him as they sit on the couch together. It's the dead of night and Mitchell is out: they don't know where. They don't want to ask.

"You're Annie," George answers. He rests his chin against the top of her head and she fits neatly against him. "That's all that matters."

"But I don't know what being 'Annie' means any more. I'm losing it. Losing me." This, whatever she's turning into, it feels larger than her.

"That's what me and Mitchell are for. To find you again. To keep you…"

"Human?" They're not human, any of them. She'd been starting to think that George was coming to terms with that, but maybe not. His affliction is so different from her own. "I don't know what I'd do without you two, honestly. I think you're the only things keeping me sane these days."

"And clearly we're not doing a very good job of it," George answers. She can hear the way he's smiling and shoves at his chest to get back at him for it.

"Oi you," she protests. "I'm the mad one around here?"

"Well I can't see any other candidates," he tells her – and when she looks up at him his smile is so warm and so comforting that it feels like the most normal thing in the world to close the scant distant between them, pressing their lips together lightly. It feels right, feels normal.

Maybe she's changing; maybe the friendship between them is as George's fingers skirt against her jaw as silent encouragement; but she knows that George will always be the same – and he will always be there for her.

[ladybubblegum.livejournal.com]

Torchwood, Tosh/Ianto, cafe

[jade-starlight.livejournal.com]

It's sometime after Mary when they start, every few days popping out of the Hub for coffee and sandwiches at some small cafe just far enough away that the others shouldn't find them. And they sit for an hour or so and talk. Sometimes about serious things, things they wish they could talk about with other people, but usually they just chat about nothing. The weather, or Gwen's ugly new jacket, the new special at the Thai place they both like.

It's not much, but it's a bit of life away from Torchwood and they need it. They need to be able to sit among people just going about their ordinary lives, drink coffee that Ianto didn't make and pretend for just a little while that they're just like the people around them. Normal.

[ladybubblegum.livejournal.com]

Torchwood, Jack/Gwen, future

[gladdecease]

Gwen's the one who lasts the longest, oddly enough. He'd expected Ianto, after all the effort he'd put into staying with Torchwood after Canary Wharf...but no, it's Gwen.

He's seen this story played out before, he can predict where things are going. She'll stay with it so he's not alone, she'll keep him from wallowing in memories between moments of Rift activity. It will eat up her life, until he is her life.

It was tempting...very tempting, the first time. But he was there to see how that story ended, and he doesn't want that. He doesn't want another farewell at a deathbed, watching a life finally end that had been wasted on him.

So he puts her in charge of the worst cases. Lets her see the other people who live Flat Holm, tells her the stories she wishes she hadn't asked to hear. One day she comes back after work, drunk. She cries, shouts, tells him he's pushing her away.

He is.

She gives up. She takes the retcon, goes back to the police. Even if she doesn't remember him, Jack has a feeling she'll always hate him, but that's alright. For her to have a future, he knew they couldn't.

[toestastegood.livejournal.com]

Heroes, Monica/Sylar, alpha male

[ladybubblegum.livejournal.com]

Doctor Who, Jack/Ten, new

Doctor Who, Jack/Ten, new

[donutsweeper.livejournal.com]

Jack had known all the Doctor's preferences. His Doctor's preferences. But that had been over a hundred years and a regeneration ago. A lot had changed since then. A lot. That Doctor had needed a partner that guided him slowly, gently, building to the orgasm that provided the relief he needed.

This Doctor? This Doctor's relief was harder to obtain. He needed to be dominated. Denied. Punished. It was only then, after the tawse, the cuffs, the pain, that the orgasm could rip through the walls, providing the release he so desperately craved.

Jack didn't mind. Either way the sex was amazing.

[jd-junkie.livejournal.com]

Stargate SG-1, Jack/Daniel, kiss me like we die tonight

[maab-connor.livejournal.com]

you = evil!

[toestastegood.livejournal.com]

Lost, Kate/Sayid, falling from grace

[aurilly.livejournal.com]

As usual, it's too long, so I've posted it in full at my journal. This is just the beginning. It ended up being about how she DOESN'T fall from grace, though. I hope you don't mind!

They exited the plan into the bright sunshine. Despite their couple of days on Sumba, only now did Kate really feel as though she’d finally returned to the real world. This, here, was modern life. A proper airport with cameras and machinery and most of all, people who knew people she knew.

Kate hung to the back of the group, clutching Aaron and already missing the quiet tension of their limbo week with Penny and her crew. For Kate, that had been rescue, sailing in the middle of the ocean where no one could find them or make them answer for anything, and with people who still thought of her as Kate. Just Kate, the plucky woman who could be counted on to tackle anything.

Now, it was Desmond who was going to run indefinitely, and Kate was going to face the music. Now that it was happening, she wondered why she’d left the island, other than the need to keep moving. As cameras blinked around her, she wondered if maybe Sawyer had been right, after all.

An older lady---had to be Jack’s mom---rushed up to hug him. Jack with a mom was even more surreal than Jack playing the piano. She couldn’t even say that she wasn’t what she’d expected, because Kate had never even imagined Jack’s mom. Divorced from life as they had been, Kate had thought of her companions as the purest of individuals, unfettered by outside ties and given blank slates---Sun, Jin, Rose, and Bernard had been the only exceptions. Sun’s parents were there, too, hugging her ecstatically. Kate remembered with a wistful frown little snippets of what Sun had told her about her family. It never sounded like they were very supportive or happy. But maybe coming back from the dead fixed all that. Kate thought of her own mother, calling feebly for help that day in the hospital, afraid of her own daughter. She wondered if coming back from the dead could change their relationship, too.

Hurley’s parents were there. Cute-looking people who seemed really happy. For all the time they’d spent together, she really knew nothing about Hurley’s pre-crash life. She knew how he reacted to stressful situations, and that he was a true-blue friend, and how good he made everyone feel all the time, but she knew nothing about his life. There was that crazy story about the hatch numbers and the lottery, but it had never mattered when they were all living in tents.

Looking at the Reyes’s, Kate wondered if she knew any of her fellow castaways at all. And she wondered if they knew her. Maybe it didn’t even matter, because no matter what they thought of her now, it would all change once they found out what she’d done. It was only a matter of minutes now before the cops showed up, or before someone at the press conference they were going to mentioned it.

[toestastegood.livejournal.com]

Merlin, Arthur/Merlin, hot wax

[kelene.livejournal.com]

I just got the most disturbing mental image in response to this. XD Ahahahaha.

[ladybubblegum.livejournal.com]

FAKE, Dee/Ryo, guns


FAKE is a yaoi (slash) manga about two detectives who fall for each other. I highly recommend it, and hope that someone here has read it. ^.^

[asimaiyat.livejournal.com]

that sounds amazing. :D Sorry I haven't read it yet.

/is so far failing to be of use to the comment_fic anime brigade...

[toestastegood.livejournal.com]

Being Human, George/Mitchell, first time

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

Things have reached a feverish pace -- hands and mouths and trembling limbs racing each other beneath the covers to get the other disrobed first. There's a momentary struggle for mastery that can only end one way.

"Wait!" George whispers, his voice trembling, as Mitchell pins him to the mattress. "Wait... just... wait..."

"What's the matter?"

The genuine concern and patience in Mitchell's dark eyes is infinitely reassuring -- but George can't quite quell his fears completely. He swallows hard, seeking the courage to speak his rather embarrassing confession.

"Nothing, it's just... I've... I've never..."

Mitchell's eyes widen as George's voice trails off. "Never what?" he asks i hushed wonder.

"Never... this..." George stammers, flustered and embarrassed. "Never... with... another man..."

"Oh." Mitchell's shoulders relax with relief, and he lets out a soft huff of laughter, shaking his head.

"What'd you think I meant?" George demanded, deeply offended. "What, you thought I meant... I'm not a bloody virgin!"

"Well... you don't exactly seem overly experienced. And, in a way..."

Mitchell's teasing words are cut off in a gasp of shocked sensation as George reaches between them to palm his erection, a smug grin beginning to form on his face. There's a note of triumph in George's voice as he murmurs suggestively.

"I'll show you who's experienced..."

[entropynchaos.livejournal.com]

S Club: LA 7, Jon/Paul, room-mates

[gigerisgod.livejournal.com]

SG-1, Teal'c/Cameron, mistaken identity

[gigerisgod.livejournal.com]

SG-1, Cameron/Daniel, zip ties

[ravensword.livejournal.com]

"Do I want to know?" Cameron asks as Daniel lays out the contents of his pack on the table in their semi-private hut for two on the side of a raging river that had cut them off from rejoining Carter and Teal'c to head for home.

Daniel looks up as Cameron lifted a black zip tie from a small pile and raised an eyebrow. "Lots of uses." Daniel murmurs in response, finishing emptying out his pack. Everything is neat an orderly on the table.

"Right. And this?" Cameron lifted a single brush that was sitting next to Daniel's rolled up pack of archeology tools.

"An extra...from an old kit. Comes in handy."

Cameron's hands skip over the first aid kit and the extra pair of glasses, but hovered over the small bottle of baby powder. "Expecting a diaper emergency?"

Daniel's eyes sparkle. "Not exactly."

"See, and I thought you and General O'Neill were joking about the emergency lube." He lifted a pillow pack of personal lubricant and both eyebrows.

"Oh, you'll thank me for that later." Daniel says, smirking.

Which is what ultimately leads to Cameron on his belly, zip ties keeping him in place on the bed, spread open and naked, Daniel slowly driving him crazy with that damn brush and baby powder, swirling it over his skin, down his back and finding places Cameron never knew were directly connected to his cock.

He strains against the restraint, wanting to touch himself, to touch Daniel, anything more than this maddening, slow tease. Every few passes, Daniel's long fingers move over his ass, press inward, rub his prostate until he squirms, then he's back to the brush and it's delicate dance over Cameron's skin.

Cameron's fairly certain he's going to go insane before Jackson takes him over the edge, then Daniel's fingers slide into him, three of them, pressing in, and that brush slides over his cock. Cameron moans as he finally comes and Daniel moves away, cutting him free.

"See, wasn't that fun?" Daniel asked with a very pleased with himself smile. "I'm hungry, you?"

Cameron rolls over and watches him wander away, making a mental note to pack more zip ties for the next mission.

[oteap.livejournal.com]

Being Human/Dead Like Me, Mitchell/Daisy, black and white

[entropynchaos.livejournal.com]

RPS, goth!verse-Michael Rosenbaum/author's choice, ever so slightly insane

[havenward.livejournal.com]

Pauley has always known that Mike is a little... off. She's never quite believed the stories though. She's sure that Chris and the boys are exaggerating when they tell their tales of freaky pranks and times that you never, ever want to approach Mike. He's never seemed that bad while bartending for Jeff.

And seriously, Jeff is the sanest, and wisest, of them all.

She's starting to doubt his judgment though. Or is starting to believe that good ol' Morgan really does know how to put his foot down. And she's starting to believe that story Jared told her about the cymbal monkeys.

After all, there's one sitting on the table now. While they're out for dinner. Facing her. And she'd swear to Christ it's leering as much as Mike is.

The frightening part is that Mike looks crazier...

"Sorry, Mikey. I gotta go..." She half expects him to stop her, or look disappointed. But instead he just laughs, looking far, far too pleased with himself.

[oteap.livejournal.com]

SPN, Andy/Dean, talk to me

[andrea-deer.livejournal.com]

Okay, it was mostly Dean's idea. All of that, the bounds, the gag, the paddle... All of it. Of course, Andy couldn't be happier but to oblige, but still, the idea came from Dean. And it was Dean that started to freak out now.

"Hush, hush... I'm on it," said hurriedly Andy, trying to free Winchester from the bounds.

The moment Dean's hand was free he quickly tagged at his gag, taking it off and taking loud gulps of air.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I thought... I thought you wanted this," Andy watched Dean carefully with his apologetic, puppy eyes.

Dean nodded and swallowed hardly.

"I did... I do... I just...." Dean made a wild gesture with his hand to indicate the whole freak out he just had almost right after being tied down. He swallowed again and stared somewhere at the wall, away from Gallagher. "You need... Could you... Just, you know. Talk to me."

Andy gasped quietly, when he caught the meaning of this request.

"You want me to..."

"Yes," interrupted Dean. "Talk to me."

Andy nodded quickly, swallowing nervously, feeling Dean's waiting eyes on him. He took a deep breath and concentrated.

"Lay back down, Dean."

Dean's body relaxed and moved back to the laying position.

"That's it. Don't worry. It's all going to be all right, you hear me?"

Dean nodded, hie eyes slightly glassy. His lips formed in a small, happy smile.

[entropynchaos.livejournal.com]

RPS, goth!verse-Jensen/Jared, shiver

[morgan-cian.livejournal.com]

Jared gaped.

"Jensen?"

His best friend, bed partner, and lover had called him, gave him explicit instruction to meet at Hell's Gate. It had worried Jared a little, having never heard of it before. It worried him a great deal more when he saw the leather, the spikes, and collars.

He was woefully underdressed in a plain blue button up and blue jeans. It was a testament to how much he trusted Jensen to pay the cover despite the sneers and walk up to the bar. Per Jensen's instructions, buy a Corona, make himself comfortable.

Of course being Jared, he couldn't keep his back to the action. He sat on the barstool, his legs pushed out comfortably in front of him and tried to keep from staring. He felt the heat in his cheeks at the obviously mixed club. Men with men, women with women, men kneeling for women in high heels and leather, sex ripe in the air.

And that's when he saw him. He would know that silhouette anywhere. Jensen, t-shirt, boots, beer drinking, dart throwing, pool playing, Jensen.

But not. And that's when he had gaped.

"Jensen."

It surely must be research for a role, one that his lover had kept from him. Surely.

Jensen. His normally sexy green eyes were exotic, lined with heavy eyeliner, his lashes looking even thicker with mascara. Jensen. His lean throat wrapped in a thick simple collar, Jared ached to pull him forward by the ring woven in it. Jensen. Leather pants painted on his legs, the flare of bowed knees bringing attention to the bits of pale skin exposed where the pants were laced up the sides. Jensen. Thick wrist bands and leather vest in lieu of shirt. Jensen, flash of metal at his ears and lips dark red.

Jensen.

His lover stood just out of arms reach and beckoned with a simple lift of eyebrow. Jared stumbled forward like a moth to a flame. His heady scent in his nose, his warmth washed over Jared.

He cupped Jensen's leather clad ass and drew him near. He could feel Jensen shiver and a moment of doubt flash in the green eyes, so familiar that Jared breathed a little easier.

His Jensen.

They danced, anonymous in the mix of people. Jensen was like a butterfly lifting his wings, seductive and fearless, tempting siren and a blistering hot submissiveness that turned Jared inside out.

Slipping his fingers through the leather, touching Jensen's hot skin, he felt his lover shiver once more.

"Here or home? Decide now."

Jensen lowered his eyes and pressed closer to Jared. "Take me home, Jay."

[entropynchaos.livejournal.com]

RPF (or RPS), goth!verse-JDM/author's choice, office

goth!verse: JDM/Samantha Ferris, office

[havenward.livejournal.com]

Jeff isn't by any means a neat freak. In fact, he's a bachelor of the highest order, when it comes to his own place. The most notable exception there being his kitchen.

His office is a matter of chaotic order. The small space has barely enough room for the three filing cabinets full of years of paperwork frame the small desk with the docking station for his laptop as well as his fax machine and printer. He's got a small display case filled with awards and knick knacks that leaves barely enough room to walk around his desk. He's got an old, plush leather chair on his side that probably hasn't been moved in years; on the other is a folding chair that spends most of its time tucked in the corner. Another folding chair is covered in fliers, with posters propped up against it. On the floor beside that is the lost and found crate, which probably hasn't been sorted in... well. Maybe ever.

His desk, on the other hand, is immaculate. Well, there's the locked drawer on the left that he keeps all to himself. That's a mess that doesn't get touched. But as far as anyone else can see, it might as well be freshly delivered. There's a lamp on one corner with a coffee mug underneath it, and that's about it. It's his island of sanity, most times, lets him deal with what he wants one thing at a time.

And right now? That one thing is Sam. And oh, how he's taking his time. She'd managed to peel his shirt away before he'd stolen her senses from her. Now her fingers are digging into his shoulders, nails biting into his flesh enough to leave him a little bloody. His fingers work into her folds and she gasps, hips rising up off the desk even as her head is falling back.

He leans down to taste her skin, the soft smooth curve of her throat and the tang of her sweat. Slowly, almost lazily he trails his way down, unbuttoning her shirt as he goes. One thing at a time...

[entropynchaos.livejournal.com]

RPS, goth!verse-Chris/Steve, belt

[morgan-cian.livejournal.com]

The slide the belt through the loops made Steve shiver. He was naked and hard.

Chris' eyes were unreadable as he wrapped the buckle in his leather clad hand, and then doubled it over.

"Time to back out is now, boy."

Steve kept his eyes lowered. Chris moved him until he was facing the wall, palms spread, shoulders down, ass up and ready. He had hoped it would have been over Chris' knee, the feel of leather against his cock. That wasn't his decision.

"Five lashes and it is over. Count them."

It burned like fire, transporting him to the state of mind of a rebellious child, needing boundaries, needing dicipline.

"One."

Two and Three hurt like a bitch, but four landed just below his ass on his thighs and the tears ran. Five landed over the same stretch of skin and choked.

"Five."

Chris turned him. "It's over." He wiped away tears and snot. He kissed Steve's trembling mouth, "It's over."

[entropynchaos.livejournal.com]

Primeval, Nick/Stephen, this feels real to me

[maab-connor.livejournal.com]

Nick doesn’t know how and he doesn’t know why, but it finally happened, so he’s not asking questions. He came back out of an anomaly and finally laid eyes on the face he had been dying to see for nearly a year. Stephen was standing casually beside his truck, a small smile on his face as he studied pages as quickly as they came out of the printer. He was saying something to Connor, something that made the younger man laugh out loud and made Abby roll her eyes at the both of them. Time seemed to freeze; he knew that there were people around him talking, wanting to know about the mission, and how well the footage had come out and if he’d gotten the samples, but all he could see was Stephen. Stephen alive and well and smiling and standing there just as real as anything.

He wondered briefly if he was dreaming again, if he’d slipped back into that place where his mind twisted facts and created justifications and fantasies and kept Stephen alive for him.

And then Stephen looked up, looked at him and raised his eyebrows in that habit he had for a long-distance hello. That wasn’t something his mind had ever supplied before and Nick hadn’t realized just how much he’d missed it. And then Stephen’s brows drew together in concern – dear god, Nick realized that there was an entire language there he hadn’t ever noticed knowing fluently – and Stephen patted Connor casually on the shoulder to excuse himself as he passed and he was walking over, his gaze locked with Nick’s.

“Everything alright?” Stephen asked gently, like he was talking to one of the animals he was so quick to tame.

Nick couldn’t say anything, he just stared, his breathing quick and uneven. He was terrified to move and risk breaking this perfect moment.

“Nick?” Stephen reached out and laid his hand on Nick’s shoulder, squeezing lightly. “Do we need a medic?”

Nick shook his head, he didn’t want anyone else there to intrude. “This… feels real to me,” he said at last, uncaring of how tiny and broken his voice sounded.

“Let’s get you home, yeah?” Stephen said, still managing to say half of his meaning with his eyebrows. Nick was clearly fixated.

Nick handed off his pack without noticing who took it, but fairly certain he hadn’t just dropped it on the ground, not that he could really care about that right now. He nodded and took a step toward Stephen. When Stephen’s arm encircled his shoulders and held him close, helping to support him, Nick could have cried from the relief of it; it was a near thing.

He couldn’t remember a single detail of the drive back to his house, but he could recite as an epic poem the turns and textures of Stephen’s skin and muscle and sinew, every movement of the drive.

When they were inside of Nick’s house, he reached out, took hold of the casual tee Stephen was wearing, pulled him in and kissed him like a drowning man getting his first breath of oxygen. He fought to hold back a sob at the release and instead put that energy into holding Stephen, tasting him, feeling him here, alive, breathing, kissing him back.

Stephen pulled away, “Easy, steady there.” He laid his palm on Nick’s cheek and cupped his face, smiling a little when Nick nuzzled into the touch. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

Nick shook his head. “Can’t. Don’t make me say it, if I say it then it was real. And this, I need this, this feels real to me, and if I talk about… I’ll wake up. I know I will, I always do.”

Stephen leaned in and kissed Nick this time, soft and gentle, playing with the textures of his mouth. “Was I gone?” he asked at last, his voice little more than a whisper.

Nick gave a small nod.

Stephen wrapped his arms more tightly around Nick and just let them be. “I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere.”

“Make love to me,” Nick said in a broken whisper.

“All afternoon,” Stephen agreed. “This is real, Nick, I swear it is.”

As Stephen led the way up the stairs Nick saw a few small changes in his house, the pictures on the walls were different and there was an antique rifle cabinet in the study – that case was Stephen’s prized possession, it moved with him wherever he went. And that’s when he realized, this wasn’t his house, it was their house.