Friday: Free For All

[havenward.livejournal.com]

At long last, the weekend is here! Which means, of course, that it's time for another Free For All. Any fandom, any characters, any theme are good to go.



But please remember to show some restraint! No more than 5 prompts in a row, and no more than 3 per fandom. If your prompt gets answered, you can prompt again.

Also, please remember that your prompts cannot contain spoilers in them until one week after the subject of the spoiler has aired, and if you response contains spoilers, put a warning in bold and leave three spaces.

Everyone loves happy Code Monkeys (they make the comm go round!) so use our regular formatting. For example:
SPN, Sam/Dean + any Ghostfacers, "And so we meet again!" "... Could you get any dorkier?"

Leverage/RPS, Nate/JDM (+ author's choices), you don't have to do it alone



Nothing you're seeing tickling your fancy? Take a peek at the Lonely Prompts.


And with that? Off you go! Happy prompting, and have fun writing!

Comments

[havenward.livejournal.com]

SPN, Sam/Dean + any Ghostfacers, "And so we meet again!" "... Could you get any dorkier?"

[havenward.livejournal.com]

Leverage/RPS, Nate/JDM (+ author's choices), you don't have to do it alone

[shannonrita.livejournal.com]

Nate watched his son and his best friend, arms folded across his chest. He was biting his thumb nail and scrutinizing every touch, straining to hear every word. It wasn't that he didn't trust Jared, because he did. It was more or less he was worried about Joven. The boy wore his heart on his sleeve most times and was easily hurt.

"You're not in this alone, you know."

The voice startled him and he turned, giving Jeff a wry smile. "I know."

"Then why haven't you told me what's on your mind?"

Nate sighed, leaning back against the bigger man, enjoying his warmth. His strength. "He's my son. Shouldn't burden you with it."

He winced the second the words left his mouth. For 13 years Joven hadn't been his son. He'd been their son. He hadn't been looking when Dr. Morgan came into their lives, hadn't expected the man to take an interest in the little boy and yet he had. And he'd taken an interest in Nate too, friendly in the beiginning, but developing into something...more.

Much like Joven and Jared seemed to be doing.

"He's our son," Nate said quietly. He turned, half expecting to see irritation or accusation in Jeff's eyes, but only saw wry amusement.

"Was wonderin' when you'd figure that out."

Nate could only chuckle.

[ribbon-purple.livejournal.com]

SGA, John/Rodney, John snores

[moon-destiny.livejournal.com]

"You snore." Rodney says, coming into his office.

"Huh?" John asks, his focus wholly on the pen he's twirling between his fingers.

"You snore, you're annoying with your charming looks, and personality, and the fact that you flirt with basically anything that moves." He sits down in the chair across from John, fidgeting, but continues on as though he hadn't heard John speak.

"Plus, we're not out to anybody, and the secrecy and lies will just come back to bite us in the ass later probably. So, by conclusion, this idea is by far my worst and I should just give up the notion."

John drops the pen onto his desk, sensing that Rodney is talking to him about something big.

"What are you talking about?"

Rodney gets up and starts pacing. "Also, my fear of rejection is pretty monumental and I should just stop talking but I can't. It's like I physically can't."

"Rodney, you know you're talking out loud?" John is starting to get annoyed because he's clueless and he doesn't like being clueless, especially where Rodney is concerned.

That seems to jolt Rodney, and he looks at John like he wasn't there all this time.

"Um, here," and he puts something down onto John's desk, a black box. A very small box. John feels like his eyes will pop out of his head. He opens it and there, nestled in black satin, is a gold ring. He can't keep his mouth from gaping open in surprise.

He looks up to find Rodney gone.

-------

Rodney avoids him for the rest of the day, and all the while, John is carrying the box in his pant's pocket, always fingering it.

He's disappointed when Rodney doesn't come to his room later in the evening, like he mostly does, and he's tempted to come barging into Rodney's to demand that he stop being nervous because of course the answer would be yes and to celebrate their engagement with some hot sex.

But instead he opts to wait for him a little longer, and promptly falls asleep, comic book flat on his chest.

It's sometime later when he opens his eyes, and feels hands roaming his chest.

"Took you long enough," he says through a yawn.

"Well, you know it's hard to pinpoint when courage will strike me and whatnot."

John smiles to himself in the dark. "Yes."

And Rodney knows exactly what's he referring to if that sharp intake of breath is any indication.

"Really?"

He hums in agreement, sleepy and content. Though the idea of marrying again scares the crap out of him, this time it feels right. He doesn't know if he can live without Rodney, but he doesn't want to take a chance at finding out.

He turns, facing Rodney, and takes his hand, slipping the ring he was clutching in his hand.

They don't say anything, just clutch at each other in the dark. Rodney nuzzles against him, and John thinks he wouldn't want to be anywhere but here.

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

HIMYM, Barney/Robin, rescue

[lilithisbitter.livejournal.com]

Barney's feet just touch the ground when the bus slams into his back, knocking him head over heels into the side of the street. Something in both of his arms snaps at the same time his right shoulder is pulled out of its socket. One of his legs is definitely broken and the other is scraped to hell, his pants shredded and soaked with blood. A low moan escapes his throat before he coughs up blood and a fragment of one of his molars.

Worried, Barney's tongue prods his mouth to realize that the porcelain crown on his back molar is cracked and a piece is missing. He coughs again, bringing up a rush of blood and he thinks maybe it would be best if he died right here and no one would have worry about Barnaby Douglas Stinson ever again.

"I'd worry," she says and he somehow turns his head to see... no way...

There she is... Robin Sparkles, not as cheesy in her music videos, but in a long blue dress, curls less poofy and more corkscrewly down her back. She's more modern, more real, more awesome. "Robin," he mouths around a mouth of his own blood.

"Come here, Barney," she says, smiling, "You don't have to worry anymore. We can rescue you. Bring you back to who you were." She's smiling.

He's back in his hippie clothes, but he doesn't mind. Feels the weight of his ponytail tugging at the back of his head, doesn't mind that it has an irritating habit of flipping up in a slight curls at the tips. "What if they don't like me?" he glances back at awesome Barney, can see himself, suit-clad and... and... he thought he'd look more awesome than that, but he looks rather thin, there's bags and shadows under his eyes, not to mention his face is scraped up and there's a bruise swelling around one eye.

So not steak sauce.

"Well, you'd have to see what happens," Dream Robin says and he can fill his chest tightening, can feel something like... well, he now knows what a fish feels like. He doesn't want to leave her and he closes his arms around her, trying to hold her forever.

"If you die, they'll miss you-"

"CLEAR!"

Barney coughs and someone slides an oxygen mask over his face as another paramedic slices his shredded suit off his body (his poor suit) with weird scissors from hell. "Welcome back to the world of living, Mr. Stinson," one of them says, checking his wallet. "You had us worried."

"Why?" Barney rasps, confused.

He had been technically dead for a minute.

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

HIMYM, Barney/Marshall, dominance

[lilithisbitter.livejournal.com]

Barney suit clad was amazing, the way the suit was tailored to his slim shoulders, the way the coat hid that tantalizing tight ass, even the way his wool trousers hug his long legs. Barney out of the suit, squirming in his lap, in Marshall's locked office, he decided was even hotter. He was the Christmas present you unwrapped and now could enjoy or in Marshall's case, fuck up the ass.

Barney's erect cock quivered against Marshall's thigh, pre-ejaculate pooling against Marshall's slacks. He didn't mind, considering he was the one milking Barney's Barnana for all it was worth. "Who's my bitch?" he asked, running his fingers around Barney's tight pucker of an anus before trailing them down to his testicles and cock, neatly bound in silver and leather. "Who's my pretty little bitch with his pretty little cock ring?"

"You..." Barney's low whisper of a voice escaped from his mouth, that wicked mouth that slid up to women's ear to get them to cream their panties the instant he said, "I can unwrap a Starburst with my tongue in three seconds."

"What was that?" Marshall asked again, pressing one finger in and out, promising more and not giving it. He savored the way Barney's thighs tremored and tensed. "I didn't hear you."

"Only you!"

"Lily too," Marshall said, unzipping his slacks and letting Barney feel his massive cock as it brushed against his navel. "Don't forget Lily."

Barney smiled in rapture, grinding his belly against Marshall's erection. "Lily too," he said dreamily.

[dreamsofspike.livejournal.com]

HIMYM/House, Barney/dark!Wilson, punishment

[lilithisbitter.livejournal.com]

"This is madness, you know," Barney said, still fingering the scraps of wool, silk, and egyptian cotton that had been his newest suit. Dark brown suit with a vest worn over a scarlet shirt paired with a maroon tie covered with fainted brown swirls. "The suit didn't do anything to you." He fingered one of the scraps of fabric, wincing as Wilson's hand rubbed over one of the still bleeding welts on his back.

"You were flirting again," the older man said, scorn on his boyish face, twisting into something not steak sauce. "I told you, you only have eyes for me."

"Hey," Barney protested, not even caring that Wilson had ripped the suit off his back, " This was a one of a kind suit and you-" His protest trailed off into a low whine.

Wilson had grabbed one of his ears and yanked hard. "If you even flirt again, I'm going to yank your ears so hard, they'll come unpinned. Got me, Dumbo?"

He let go and Barney rubbed his sore ear, wincing. How did he know that Barney hated his ears as a child and got surgery on them as soon as Altrucel cut his first paycheck. "Don't be thick," Wilson said and smacked him on the head. "I can see your scars behind your ears." He tossed Barney a robe and a tube of ointment. "Now clean up, or the next time, I cut your suit off in public."

Barney nodded and hoped Wilson didn't noticed his cock stirring at the thought.

[kuwdora.livejournal.com]

Heroes/Star Trek XI, Mohinder/Spock, shore leave

[badfalcon.livejournal.com]

RPS, Timothy Hutton/authors choice, lets get back to masturbation

[badfalcon.livejournal.com]

RPS, Christian Kane/Steve Carlson, on any other day

[havenward.livejournal.com]

Any other day he would have punched him. It would have been a knock down drag out fight, and words would be said that couldn't be taken back. Any other day, and there'd be no going back.

But he knows Chris is hurting. That Chris is pushing so hard to make him leave in some twisted effort of proving he isn't worth it. That he's so broken he isn't worth Steve's patience, his effort. His love.

He steps closer and Chris shoves him, snarling anything, everything, that could rile him up. Digging deeper, trying so hard. But he isn't trying to hurt Steve, even though he could if he wanted. Even now he can't cross that line. So Steve just steps in again, just lets Chris rail on him until he can wrap his arms around him tightly.

Chris just deflates in his arms, fists tightening in his shirt as he cries against his shoulder.

[restlessme.livejournal.com]

Heroes, Elle/Gabriel, pancakes

[daria234.livejournal.com]

She poured peach-flavored syrup in a line down her chest, right between her breasts, and guided his head down to taste it.

"Mm peach," he said. He could guess his favorite flavor easily even with the blindfold.

"And this?" she said, putting a smear of whipped cream on her belly button and guiding his mouth to it.

"Whipped cream with a dash of sexy blonde," he said.

"And this?" she said as she poured maple syrup on her inner thigh.

"Mmm, you were right, Elle. I'm glad we ran out of pancake mix. This is the best breakfast ever."

[trulybloom.livejournal.com]

Leverage, Eliot/Parker, inadvertently trapped in a small closet, no way out, awaiting rescue

[badfalcon.livejournal.com]

RPS, Christian Kane/Steve Carlson, anti-depressants

Part One

[canadiangoddess.livejournal.com]

((Marplan is a real AD – it is of the MAOI variety and the side effects I have used here are real. And they suck. But hey, the drugs work fine...for some people. Also, I would like to think/hope/pray that Chris does not have the kind of problems that would require medication of this extremity. I wish him nothing but all the awesomeness he can squeeze out of the world. Seriously.))

It takes a while for Steve to notice Chris isn’t drinking much these days, that his lips kiss the bottle but he never seems to swallow. It takes even longer for him to stumble across the reason why.

Marplan

At first it was an innocent prescription bottle Steve could barely decipher, but once he realized there were refills allotted to it, he had to know what the hell was so wrong with Chris he was actually taking meds. The damn man had to be browbeaten into taking a Tylenol after nearly breaking his ribs, but now all of a sudden he was alright popping pills? There were a hundred different explanations swirling through Steve’s mind, and none of them were good, there was no way he could wait for Chris to get home before he figured this out. Besides, a sick little voice in the back of his mind whispered, would Kane even tell him the truth if he asked?

Steve might hate the internet in ways he cannot possibly articulate, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t know how to make it work for him. Google. When in doubt ask Google.

When Chris comes home he finds Steve, still sitting on the couch in front of his laptop, pill bottle at his side and a look of profound horror in his eyes.

“Shit.” Chris cursed softly, knowing instantly that the proverbial cat was out of the bag.

“Were you ever planning on telling me?” Steve whispered, picking up the bottle and turning it in his hands.

“I didn’t want you to worry about me.” Chris drops his bags on the table and moves to the couch. “It’s no big deal Steve.”

“No big deal?” He’s trying not to get angry, trying not to make this about him instead of Chris, but it’s so hard to be kept in the dark. “If I was taking anti-depressants and brushing it off as ‘no big deal’ you would kick my ass and we both know it.”

“You’re right.” Chris admitted softly, “but I don’t want it to be a big deal.”

“Can you talk to me, please” Steve begged, turning to face his lover. “I feel like I’m losing you.”

“You’re never going to lose me.” Chris promised, taking Steve’s trembling hands in his own. “And I’ll tell you if you want me to.”

“I need you to.” Steve whispered, squeezing Chris’ fingers.

[anthimeriate.livejournal.com]

Dollhouse, Adelle/Claire, storm

[pinknoisewaltz.livejournal.com]

Shorter than intended, sorry about that. May come back to this one later. Set at Adelle's house (my mind hasn't quite left yesterday's theme alone yet).


There was a loud crash of thunder, and Adelle jerked awake. It’s just a storm, she thought to herself, no need to fret. She rolled over to her side, expecting to find Claire there, naked and sound asleep, but instead found only empty space next to her. Adelle sat up. “Claire?” she called out, suddenly alarmed.

Claire spoke softly when she answered, “I‘m here.” She looked ghostly in front of the window, with a sheet enfolding her small frame, and the storm raging outside. “What are you doing?” Adelle asked, over the clatter of raindrops battering the house. There was a flare of lightning, another blast of thunder. “I couldn’t sleep,” the woman by the window breathed, turning back to look at the roaring ocean outside. “The storm is close.”

Adelle rose, walked the few steps between the bed and the window. She draped her arms around Claire, sighed as the younger woman’s head leaned back onto her shoulder. They looked out at the tempest, at the waves smashing into one another. Claire’s body relaxed in Adelle’s arms. “It’s all right,” the older woman whispered, “you’re safe here.” There was a moment of silence before Claire whispered, “I know.”

[onceuponapillow.livejournal.com]

Criminal Minds, Morgan/Garcia, He didn't want to discuss it with her, didn't want her to see him as less of a man

No Pity

[guiltyreasons.livejournal.com]

"I know what I did was a little...different, but what's wrong? You left. You ran out of my house naked for god's sake! I don't even know how you got home," Garcia snapped having entered his house via her own key because he won't open the door. He was dressed now and sitting on the dark on his sofa.

"I drove," he said head in his hands.

"Naked?"

"Yeah."

"Now, that's a sight I would have liked to see, but seriously, hon, what's going on? I've played with other boyfriend's...secret hole before and sure a couple freaked out, but never like that. I've never seen that kind of fear on you're face before," she said than sat down beside him.

"It was nothing, sweetie."

"Bull."

He doesn't want to discuss it with her, didn't want her to see him as less of a man. When the rest of the team found out he'd made them promise not to tell her. He didn't want to see the pity in her eyes.

"I can't, won't talk about it," he said more to himself than to her.

"Did something happen?" she asked her insight sharp as ever.

"Yeah..."

"Something bad."

"Very."

"Tell me."

"I can't!" Morgan yelled getting up and pacing, "I won't."

"Derek, you can trust me. I love you and nothing you can say can change that. I'm not some girl you picked up a bar. I'm Garcia, that should mean something."

"It means everything to me. You mean everything to me and that's why I can't say anything."

"I love you and nothing could make me think less of you. You'll always be my hunk in chocolate armor. Now open that pretty mouth and spill, because I'm stubborn and I'm worried. I think we both know that combo means I'm not giving up."


Morgan groaned than sat back down. He hung his head down, almost between his knees. It was hard to breath. First the flashback, which had been vivid and now having to relieve it verbally.

It took him almost five minutes, bug finally he told her. Told her everything. He told her about what had happened to him and what had happened on the case. He didn't just give her details. He told her how he felt every step of the way. The fear, the sensation of being dirty, the shame, the hate, the loss. It spilled from his mouth and into her because at the end of the day she was right. He trusted her to know everything, even the darkest part of his soul.

It took a while for him to look up, but when he did she was crying. She wept silently, tears rolling down her cheeks and ruining her make up. She was biting a lip to keep sobs back and he felt horrible.

"Don't cry. It's over and I have you, this job, my family, my friends," he said putting his hands on her cheeks.

"That's not why I'm crying," she said unable to mask the sob.

"What is it then honey?"

"I'm pissed they put that mother fucker away before I could kick his ass," she said wiping her nose on the back of her hand.

He laughed. He couldn't help it. The image made him laugh and she laughed too. He held her close knowing nothing was ruined, nothing had changed. She felt no pity for him and that's how he wanted it.

[anthimeriate.livejournal.com]

Dollhouse, Adelle/Claire, company party

[gsr-rocks.livejournal.com]

(I suspect the end has something due to me being kind of obsessed with this cover (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9wceKiDBjFM) right now. XD)

In the elevator ride to the employee’s only floor, Claire thought a party sounded like fun. Talking about working in the Dollhouse, soft music, and drinks, it all seemed like a good time. But when the doors opened and she found herself staring out at a massive amount of people, a party was the last thing she wanted. She pushed one of the buttons and waited anxiously for the doors to close. After what seemed like far too long, giving the doctor a slight ounce of hope, when a hand reached out and grabbed the door, making them open again.

“Dr. Saunders,” Adelle greeted with a bright smile. She stepped into the elevator and leaned in front of Claire to push one of the buttons before stepping back to stand next to the young woman.

“Ms. DeWitt,” Claire nodded. She stared straight ahead, the noise from the party filling her ears, and was only able to breathe a sigh of relief when the doors finally drifted closed.

“You’re not going to the party?” Adelle asked. She swayed slightly as the elevator jolted into motion.

Claire watched her boss move and raised one brow questioningly but decided to stay on the topic at hand. “Oh, I was going to but I just remembered that I have paperwork to finish.”

Adelle turned to face Claire fully and glanced down at the younger woman’s outfit. A knee-length red dress with flats in the same color and her worried expression made Adelle’s curiosity spark to life. “So you spent an hour getting ready, dressing up, to do paperwork?”

“Well, no, but—“

Moving swiftly, Adelle reached out and pulled the fire button, stopping the elevator at once. “Claire,” she began, dropping the formalities, “Forget the paperwork. Come down to the party with me.”

“I’m not comfortable being around that many people,” Claire confessed.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Adelle promised. “Especially after a few drinks.”

“Hence you not being able to stand still?” In the presence of the older woman in a diminished capacity, Claire felt bolder knowing her boss might not remember any jabs she snuck in.

“Precisely,” Adelle answered with a giggle. She straightened, her eyes sparkling in the dim light of the elevator. “Come to the party with me, at least for a few minutes.”

Claire sighed, unsure of whether she should be amused or annoyed. “I really should get back to my office.”

Adelle rolled her eyes as she moved to press the button again, restarting the elevator. “Fine, but you’re going to miss out on Topher and Boyd singing a Journey song.”

“Topher and Boyd singing?” Claire’s eyes widened. Given that image, paperwork seemed to pale in comparison. She swallowed hard, silently hating that she could be so easily persuaded. “I’ll go, but only for five minutes.”

Adelle grinned triumphantly as the elevator doors opened. She grabbed Claire’s hand, gently pulling the woman forward and into the stream of unfamiliar faces. Claire tightened her grip on the older woman’s digits and earned a reassuring smile. As they wove in and out of the crowd, Claire heard the faint notes of people warming up to sing and thought it might be worth the trip.

[anthimeriate.livejournal.com]

Dollhouse, Claire/Adelle, "You need to eat better."

[gsr-rocks.livejournal.com]

(Not sure how I feel about this but this prompt has been buzzing around my head all day and I wanted to try it. And apparently, I completely forgot to include your quote the first time!)

When Claire marched into Adelle’s office with a brown paper bag in hand, the older woman expected many things. Lingerie in discreet packaging or a shiny new toy for the bedroom topped the list. But no where on that list was lunch.

“You’re surprising me with a salad?” Adelle asked, wrinkling her nose as she watched Claire unpack the bag. “You certainly know the way to my heart.”

“Your heart is exactly what I’m looking out for,” Claire replied without as much as a glance. Along with the salad, she pulled out a packet of low-fat dressing, a bag of baby carrots, and a container of mixed fruit. "You need to eat better."

Adelle picked up the fruit and shook the plastic bowl, her brows furrowed in confusion. “What’s going on, Claire?”

The younger woman pulled a smaller bag from the brown one and handed it to Adelle before crossing her arms over her chest. “I found these under your couch cushions yesterday. Are they yours?”

“I was preoccupied with what was on the cushions, not underneath them,” Adelle answered with a suggestive grin. Claire was obviously not amused by the joke and the older woman cleared her throat. She leaned forward in her chair and peered into the bag, finding empty packets of various unhealthy snack foods. “I can explain these.”

“Oh?” Claire picked the salad up and placed it in front of Adelle. She sighed as she peeled the lid off and tossed it into the garbage. “Let me guess, the memory drug?”

Adelle opened her mouth quickly to respond only to close it again. She glanced up at Claire with guilty eyes and the younger woman scoffed. “You blame everything on that incidence! You ripped your skirt while bouncing on the trampoline in Topher’s office, you pulled that muscle in your leg jumping over the railing, you showed up naked on my doorstep, all thanks to that drug, right?”

Knowing better than to argue with Claire when she was in a mood, Adelle picked up the fork next to the salad and speared a few leaves. “Look, I’m eating the salad.”

“Don’t charm your way out of this.”

She took a bite and chewed happily, a faint grin on her lips. “This is a great salad, Claire.”

The younger woman put her hands flat on Adelle’s desk, her head tilted down as she stared at Adelle. “Are you finding this funny?”

“No, no,” Adelle shook her head. “I’m just enjoying the lunch that my wonderful girlfriend brought me.”

“You know I can’t resist when you’re cute like that,” Claire half-complained, half-laughed.

“Does that mean I can stop eating this salad?” Adelle asked, fork poised in mid-air.

Claire nodded at once before moving around the desk. She took the fork and tossed it into the salad, then pushed the bowl away and took its place on the edge of the desk. “Of course,” Claire whispered. “And besides, I’ve found a better use for your mouth anyway.”

[anthimeriate.livejournal.com]

Heroes, Mohinder/Matt, morning crossword

Heroes, Matt/Mohinder, the morning puzzle

[karrenia-rune.livejournal.com]

Matt does the puzzle in pencil with a thick pink eraser that he borrows from Molly's box of drawing supplies; and fills in the blank black and white squares all the while attempting to avoid smudging the newsprint. Mohinder does the puzzle in pen.

Without letting on that he notices Matt is aware of the fact that Mohinder's cursive flowing script is as neat and fluid as the man himself is; and Matt smiles. It might just be sign; the opposites do attract.

Just at that moment as the other man looks up from his glass, her crisp, curling black hair mussed from not just one but several long stints at the lab, the dark circles beneath his deep brown eyes; that Matt realized that even if he is technically the resident mind-reader in their relationship Mohinder is the one who is 'reading' him right no; and it's all good.

"Is everything all right, Matt" he asks.

Matt nods and offers the other a slight smile. "Everything's just fine."

[trulybloom.livejournal.com]

Leverage Eliot/author's choice, muffin top

[havenward.livejournal.com]

Hardison stares, wide eyed. "Did you... did you just...?"

Eliot ignores him. It's a stupid question anyway, considering the fact that he was damn well watching him fight. "Goddamn fucking son of a bitch!"

"Are you... alright...?" Sophie trails off as she runs in, startled at the carnage left behind from the fight.

"No!" Eliot snarls. Which isn't really true. Sure he's got a slash in his side, but it's shallow. Hardison got a few bruises, but nothing serious. Sophie looks terrified, though, so he relents. "Gotta make a hundred fifty-seven assorted muffins from fuckin' scratch all over again..."


Just in case I'm too vague, cos it's 3am here... Eliot killed a guy with muffin tops. XD

[anthimeriate.livejournal.com]

Buffy, Anya/Willow, "Okay, I guess maybe it was a little sexy."

[garnet-words.livejournal.com]

So, Sam had gone to do whatever Sam did in the middle of the night, and Dean had woken up and been pissed and then Cas showed up and… it had just kinda happened. Not that he’d really thought about it all that much before. He had no idea if the same was true for Cas, and he was, frankly, a little scared to ask.

But Dean had leaned over and kissed him and Cas’d kissed back and Dean’d felt something real soft wrap around him and they’d lain back on the bed and…

Well, then Dean had started sneezing. And sneezing.

It kinda put a damper on things.

“Are you all right?” Cas asked, and Dean held up a hand, sneezed violently, then groaned.

“Yeah. Peachy.” He let out a breath. “Were those… feathers?”

Castiel nodded.

Dean blinked his eyes hard a few times. Sneezed again. “Damn it. I think I’m allergic to them.”

Castiel looked… a little embarrassed. “It’s not something I can really control.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “Oh. So when you… when we. Huh. That sucks.”

“It does, as you say, suck.” Was Castiel sulking?

Dean got up off the bed, grabbed his keys and wallet.

“Where are you going?”

“Sam and I passed a 24-hour drug store coming into town,” Dean said, swinging the door open. “Two words: allergy meds." He paused. "And... other stuff.”

"Wait," Castiel said, getting up and laying a hand on his shoulder. "It's quicker this way."

Dean wasn't sure this was an approved usage of angel powers, but he wasn't about to complain.

[onceuponapillow.livejournal.com]

House, House/Cuddy, There may be something there that wasn't there before

[elebridith]

RPS, Tim Hutton/Chris Kane/Steve Carlson, You belong to me

[darling-lisa.livejournal.com]

He had lost track of everything once they walked off the stage, riding the waves of energy coming off the fans and the burn of Jack as it hit his system. He'd managed to avoid them both after the show, trotting out the dog and pony show for the fans, he had signed autographs and sat in the lounge meeting and greeting with the best of them. He just couldn't bring himself to find one or the other, knowing that if he did... he would lose something precious. Finally though, he had to slip out one of the side doors to get some air. He'd lost track of Tim about an hour ago, and some part of his heart whispered that maybe it was better this way... he would only end up fucking it up like he always did.

Looking down at the bottle in his hands and realizing its only about a quarter of the way full anymore, he thinks that maybe he was hitting it a bit hard... but fuck if he could bring himself to care right now. Raising the bottle to his lips, he took a long pull and let his head fall back against the building, suddenly exhausted.

"Now don't you go hogging it all boy," Steve's voice was rough, slithering across his skin as the blonde pulled the bottle from his unresisting fingers and took a drink of his own.

"Hey man... I just... the fans and..."

He can't finish his sentence, isn't sure what platitude he was going to offer, because Steve is suddenly right there, pressing in close, his hand sliding around to cup Christian's neck and pull him forward into a kiss. Steve tastes like whiskey and green, his mouth has the bitter tang that Christian knows means he was hitting it a short while ago, and the feel of his lips and tongue are like coming home.

But before the kiss has a chance to deepen, before he can get his hands up to curl in Steve's hair , suddenly his weight is gone. Opening his eyes, Christian wonders if maybe that last bit of Jack was too much. He can't really be seeing Timothy slam Steve up against the wall like he was a sack of potatoes. He damn well sure knows that he isn't watching Steve freeze as those blue eyes pin him in place, or the rough way Tim grabs Steve's hair and pulls him forward to whisper something in his ear before dropping his hands and turning his back.

He might have blacked out for a second, because the next thing he knows, Timothy is standing in front of him, so close that they should be touching and the fact that they aren't seems to mean more than his brain can process right now.

Timothy leans down, his hands braced on either side of Christian's head and his voice quiet and deadly calm. His knee slides forward to wedge itself between Christian's legs, his thigh firm and hot where it presses against him.

"Listen to me Christian," the use of his full name almost undoes him, but it has the desired effect, the only thing he sees, hears, fuck - feels, is Timothy. "You belong to me, hear that? You. Belong. To. Me."

And fuck if this is all a product of the Jack, he needs to go buy a few more bottles, because the desire he sees burning in those eyes? Fuck yes and please god don't let this be a dream. And could there be kissing if this is his fantasy? There should be kissing...

[neierathima.livejournal.com]

Leverage, Eliot/author's choice, kittens

Sunshine, Eliot, PG

[cyphersushi.livejournal.com]

Eliot was behaving oddly. He was locking his office door (in a house of thieves, seriously?) and carrying bags of strange things in there and the rest of them was dying from curiousity.

Hardison tried to get cameras into the room but Eliot had some freaky sixth sense and got them all before he'd even hooked them up to the feed.

Parker tried going through the window but as she rapelled down she came face to face with Eliot glaring at her from within the room. She kind of saw something move behind him though.

Sofie tried to sweet talk her way in but Eliot was having nothing of the sort.

All three of them came to Nate and begged him to find out and finally, in an effort to get some alone time with his bottle, he went to knock on the door to Eliot's office. He expected to have to argue through the door but instead Eliot just opened it.

"Yes?"

"Why do you keep the door locked? You know what a locked door does to thieves..."

"Well, Sunshine is a really good jumper and way to smart for her own good and I didn't want her running about in the office..."

"Sunsh... Eliot is that a kitten on your shoulder?"

"Well, Parker has her plant, why can't I have a kitten?"

"I... well... you..." Nate shook his head. "Why didn't you let the others in?"

"They should learn to knock and ask like normal people." Eliot grinned and reached up to scratch the tiny golden kitty under her chin.

"Ok... well. I'll just tell them that then..." Nate smiled at Eliot and then at little Sunshine too. He really really needed that drink now.

[emmademarais.livejournal.com]

Leverage, Hardison, Geek power baby!

Hardison/Parker/Eliot

[daria234.livejournal.com]

Toys were nice. They had a lot of very interesting toys, these days, with remote controls and materials that could be adjusted for temperature and things that vibrate in the exact opposite place that you expect them to vibrate.

But being a geek wasn't really about the toys, Alec knew. It was about the know-how.

It was about the technique.

It was about the slow strong tongue that explores and responds, constantly adapting to the slightest of feedback. It was about the fingers that could burn up a keyboard being used on a human body (or two), which actually had a lot more buttons to push if you knew where to look. It was about creative dirty talk, and then in foreplay, it was about the ratio of pressure to surface area. And then it was about the various permutations of lips and hands and chests and hips and pricks and pussies and asses.

The combinatorics of pleasure.

Hardison prided himself on being able to make Parker and Eliot come at the same time. But every time was a little bit different, a new variation.

This time, Parker leaned back afterward with a big smile on her face, and said, "That was perfection!"

"Yeah, I know it was," Hardison said with a pleased smile, "That's what happens when you get with someone who has Gee-"

"Hardison!" interrupted Eliot, "That was really great. But remember what I told you?"

"If I keep saying "Geek power baby" right after fucking you, you'll kick me in the face?"

"That's the one."

"Whatever, dude. You sure didn't complain about getting nailed by a geek five minutes ago."

Parker giggled. "Five minutes ago, his brain couldn't form a coherent syllable if his life depended on it."

[emmademarais.livejournal.com]

Criminal Minds/Leverage, Garcia and Morgan, Garcia watches Leverage on TV with Morgan and comments on geek Hardison's character