Tuesday - Sweat

[jaune-chat.livejournal.com]

I’m jaune_chat and I hope y’all have a terrific Tuesday!

Today the theme will be Sweat. Working up a sweat, waking up in a cold sweat, earning something by the sweat of your brow, maybe it’s just too hot in here, nervous sweat, sweaty sexy times and whatever else you can think of to fit the theme!

As always, please follow the rules:

• No more than one prompt per post, three prompts per fandom, and no more than five total. If one of your prompts is filled, you may post another.
• No spoilers in the prompts for new shows/seasons until at least one week after airing.
• If your fill contains spoilers, please label it clearly with the fandom/show and leave enough space for people to pass by.
• Feel free to fill a prompt even if it is already filled, the more fic the merrier!


Be kind to our codemonkeys and format your prompt properly:

• Heroes, Nathan and Peter (or Nathan/Peter), Peter never saw Nathan sweat, except when they were together.
• Dollhouse, Echo/Paul, there were times when Echo would wake up in a cold sweat, not knowing who she was.
• Sherlock (BBC)/Leverage, Sherlock and Parker, Parker had never sweated a job, until Sherlock Holmes was put on her trail.

If nothing today trips your trigger, go check out our Lonely Prompts for inspiration!

(Tag = sweat)

Comments

[jaune-chat.livejournal.com]

Heroes, Nathan and Peter (or Nathan/Peter), Peter never saw Nathan sweat, except when they were together.

[jaune-chat.livejournal.com]

Dollhouse, Echo/Paul, there were times when Echo would wake up in a cold sweat, not knowing who she was.

[jaune-chat.livejournal.com]

Sherlock (BBC)/Leverage, Sherlock and Parker, Parker had never sweated a job, until Sherlock Holmes was put on her trail.

[mangacrack.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Sam +/ Dean, the longest car ride during the hottest summer ever

[scarlet-gryphon.livejournal.com]

Sanctuary, Tesla and team, No matter where they went or what they were doing, Tesla always wore those damn suits, and they had yet to see him sweat.

[somehowunbroken]

Hawaii Five-0, Steve/Danny, that drop of sweat making its way through the tattoo on Steve's arm is driving Danny crazy

While We Wait, R, 1/2

[seleneheart]

Danny shifts position, trying to ease the pressure on his knee. They’ve been stuck on this hillside for hours, ever since Steve decided that they’d wait for dark and then raid the house below. The sun blares down on their position, touching every stupid drop of water in the hellish rainforest and turning it into humidity. Danny’s tie feels like it’s strangling him and his shirt is plastered limply to his back. The crisp creases have long since disappeared. Even Danny’s hair feels wilted.

He eyes his partner with disgust. Steve seems perfectly content with their situation, like the heat and moisture doesn’t bother him in the slightest. Of course, he’s not wearing anything remotely close to acceptable – the usual cargo pants and t-shirt. Steve’s only concession to bodily discomfort has been to roll the sleeves of his shirt up to his shoulders. Otherwise, Steve is totally unbothered. He has the stillness of a predator in wait for an innocent herbivore to wander by. His only movement is the occasional look through his binoculars to make sure their targets haven’t gone anywhere.

Steve’s body betrays him though, Danny notices.

A single drop of sweat winds its way down Steve’s arm over his tattoo. The drop seems to cruise the edges of the ink, like it’s a border between marked and unmarked skin. Which Danny knows is ridiculous – there’s no raised border of skin there. He’s gripped those shoulders countless times while he’s buried himself inside Steve’s body. He would have noticed if the lines of ink had any texture at all.

As Danny stares, another drop appears, following the same path as the first, outlining the ink on Steve’s skin. Saliva floods Danny’s mouth as he considers tasting that wandering drop, whether it has some different composition that allows it to detect the change in color over the path that it travels. Danny feels lightheaded, like the heat has finally gotten to him.

Steve glances at him and catches Danny’s bemused stare. “What?”

Danny leans over and licks the salt water from Steve’s skin in answer. He savors the burst of flavor that bursts over his tongue, full of musk and pheromones.

“Oh.” Steve leans back, loose-limbed and pliant, spreading himself out to let Danny feast.

[somehowunbroken]

Stargate Atlantis/Stargate SG1, John/Cam, blood, sweat, and tears

[scarlet-gryphon.livejournal.com]

Stargate Atlantis, Parrish(& or /)Lorne, For David, gardening has always produced a good and honest sweat. He tries to teach Evan this, with varying results.

[scarlet-gryphon.livejournal.com]

NCIS, Tony & any, "Don't sweat it."

[jaune-chat.livejournal.com]

Leverage, team, "Steal the President? No sweat!"

[scarlet-gryphon.livejournal.com]

Stargate Atlantis, Parrish/Lorne, The sight of his lover's bare skin always got him hot and bothered.

[jaune-chat.livejournal.com]

Criminal Minds, Garcia/any, the internet sometimes brought back images that images that made a girl sweat

[omorka.livejournal.com]

Buckaroo Banzai, Mrs. Johnson, It certainly wasn't her copy of Sweatin' To The Oldies in the VCR - but whose was it?

[rattyjol.livejournal.com]

Animorphs, any main, it's one thing to be sent to the vice-principal's office; it's a whole other thing be sent to the vice-principal's office once you know he's got an mind-controlling alien slug in his head

[rattyjol.livejournal.com]

Doctor Who, any Doctor + any companion(s), "'Don't sweat it, I'll have you out of here in a jiffy,' you said. And what did you do? Went and got yourself caught too. What kind of world-saver are you?"

[rattyjol.livejournal.com]

BBC Sherlock, Jim + any minion, he likes to see them sweat

[kasmodia.livejournal.com]

SPN, Sam/Dean, I wanna make you sweat

[kasmodia.livejournal.com]

SPN, kitten!Sam/Dean, the kitten likes licking Dean's sweaty skin

[tigriswolf]

Glee, Puck/Kurt, it's the hottest summer on record and Puck keeps dragging him outside

[tigriswolf]

Supernatural, Dean&Sam, slaving away over an engine during the heat of the day

[tigriswolf]

Inception, Arthur/Eames, acrobatics in a dream don't lead to sweat; acrobatics in real life do (and of course I sweat, Mr. Eames; I am not, in fact, a robot)

Latent Heat

[black-eyedgirl.livejournal.com]

Eames is staring. This is something he does, occasionally. It’s also something that frustrates Arthur, occasionally, but he tries not to let it show.

This time, Eames’s expression is caught somewhere between bewilderment and fascination. He leans across the table and tugs at a loose piece of Arthur’s hair. “Arthur,” he says, in a low whisper, “I’m not sure how to tell you this. You have a hair out of place.”

Arthur pushes his hand away, frowning. “Yes.”

“And you’re…” The fingers are more intrusive this time, sliding into the gap between Arthur’s collar and the damp skin of his neck. Eames rubs his fingertips together. “Sweating.” His voice takes on a tone of mock-horror.

“I jumped out of a train,” Arthur points out.

“I’ve seen you do far more strenuous things than that.” Eames keeps staring for another long moment and then – the damning thing – reaches for his pocket.

Arthur sees the slip of red between Eames’s fingers. He sighs. “We’re not dreaming. That was my point.”

“And what point was that again?” Eames asks. “Sorry, I was a tad distracted by the idea that there’s an ordinary human body under there somewhere. I had always supposed you were a mystical being composed primarily of beautifully-tailored suits and sarcasm.”

“My point,” Arthur says, ignoring the way Eames’s eyes have darkened, “was that in dreams, we can choose how we want to be seen. You know that better than anyone.”

Eames shrugs, loose. “And you choose not to break a sweat. I’m sure you have perfectly valid reasons for that, not that I can think of one right now at this moment. But here…”

“Yes, here, of course. I’m not a… whatever the hell you said. We jumped out of a moving train.”

“We did,” Eames says. “You do bring me the best jobs. That’s why you’re my favourite.” He grins. “But tell me, love, don’t you think your way destroys the illusion somewhat? When the target notices that you don’t get all charmingly heated up when you throw yourself into one of your displays of acrobatics? Personally, I find this a much more natural look.” He looks Arthur up and down; Arthur fights the urge to brush down his jacket for dirt that he’s missed. He had tried to clean up in the diner’s restroom but there’s only so much you can do.

Natural has nothing to do with it. Arthur doesn’t like mess. Dreams have the possibility of endless, perfect order. Even in their paradoxes, even though there’s always the possibility of them falling apart around him. They have the potential to be as composed as the dreamer. Arthur likes that control, likes how it extends to himself as a part of architecture. And he still doesn’t know why Eames is so fixated on the difference.

A drop of sweat works its way down from his hairline. Arthur flicks it away and Eames watches closely. Arthur says, “The acrobatics are usually unplanned. The target isn’t supposed to know they’re going on. Normally, a person who’s out of breath, shirt sticking to them – have you looked at yourself, by the way? - they get noticed. Like we are now.”

“Well, of course we are. We just jumped out of a moving train. And there you are, looking like that.” Eames gestures, indicating Arthur’s general form without specifics. “Who wouldn’t notice?”

“Eames.”

Eames leans across to Arthur again, pushing the unruly hair back where it belongs. “There. Much better. No one would suspect you might be human after all.”

This close, Eames smells of his own sweat, and the dirt he rolled through in his less-than-graceful landing from the train. Arthur’s pulse quickens, just a fraction. A pure physiological response.

Eames smiles wide. “But we know different, don’t we? Arthur can be messed up, we see, even just a little bit. Out here in the real world.” He touches Arthur’s collar again, in the pretence of straightening it. His skin is still warm from the exertion earlier. He says, “Don’t panic, I’ll tell no one. To be completely honest, it’s a picture I want all to myself. You never know when that information might come in handy.”

He shifts back to his own chair, still grinning. Arthur glares half-heartedly and tries to get back to the job at hand. He ignores the heat under his collar. And the drop of cool sweat now rolling down his spine.

[tigriswolf]

White Collar, Neal, breaking out in cold sweat (there's a gun against his head)

Fill: Click

[cghardy.livejournal.com]

Everything clicked when the gun did. The case had been the right amount of challenge, straight up their alley with the right amount of red herrings and false clues. Set up, completely set up, just to get him. Peter had been lured away for more paperwork from the secretary, leaving him completely alone. A hand on his right shoulder and the barrel in direct contact with his head moved him outside. Peter wouldn't even know in time to stop the person.

Except Peter did know, and he had his gun pointed at the person that has Neal. “Agent Burke,” a familiar voice called out. The hand on his shoulder turned into the arm around his neck and the barrel switched from the back to set against his temple.

“Adler,” he replied.

Now he knew why that voice was familiar. Adler died weeks ago, yet he was holding a gun to his head while Peter tried to get closer. Normally, he would be in control of his emotions, but the combination of Adler holding a gun on him has caused a sliver of fear to expand. If he blamed the heat for the moisture running down his neck and forehead, there was no mistaking it now as the heat wasn't reaching his skin.

“Please stop moving closer, Burke,” he reprimanded. The gun nudged just a bit deeper into his head and Neal felt the sweat droplets go underneath his collar.

“Let him go, Adler.”

“Not going to happen.”

[tigriswolf]

author's choice, author's choice, cats sweat on the bottom of their feet

[saavikam77.livejournal.com]

NCIS, Abby + any, All that black clothing, and they've never seen her sweat, not once. Clearly, there's something she's holding back.

[saavikam77.livejournal.com]

DCU, Any Bats, Wearing all that leather and Kevlar is a bitch in the summer. Especially in the high humidity, when sweat doesn't evaporate.