Butch isn’t usually the type to sit out on a balcony and smoke in the middle of a party. He isn’t such a terrible loner or an emo kid - he genuinely likes the company of others. Without them, who would listen to his stories? Who would populate them?
But every man has his breaking point, and Butch can only stand the heat and throb of shifting bodies and the pulse of conversation for so long before it wears on him, replacing his own heart beat. He takes a break outside then, to get his own rythem back. He’ll go back in, he swears, right after this cigarette. Until then, it’s cold metal against the back of him and the accidental spray of ash burning his pant leg.
This is how Francis finds him.
Not an entirely flattering picture. Butch is a little drunk and looks lost despite having no where else to go. He’s tangled in the balcony wiring, like someone tied him there to keep him from wondering off. Doesn’t stop him from wandering off inside his head. Francis can’t help but wonder what’s inside his head, what nightmares he’s seeing in the dark.Butch takes a second to realize he’s there, but when he does he’s amused, smiling, watching while Francis tries to tie himself to the banister also, just to be beside him. They can’t afford to be so terribly close, but if his leg just so happens to bump into Butch’s while they sway off the edge, then there’s really nothing they can do about that, is there?
Butch offers him his cigarette and Francis declines. He’s been saying no more often than not tonight, avoiding alcohol and offers to tumble back into the laundry room and spend a few minutes in the dark. He won’t tell Butch. There’s something sweet about the way he leans forward to whisper a secret and kisses his ear instead, and maybe Francis considers he already knows.
"Having fun, Franny?"
"Sort of. Made a few bucks."
"Well look at you."
He smokes quietly for a moment and Francis watches his hand as it moves. He watches him, remembering little details, like Butch wasn’t going to be there the next day. Butch wonders if maybe he’s thinking up gifts to give him, if he’s figuring out what to stock in his garage that he might be interested in buying. His eyes seem caught on his bracelet. It was a spur of the moment thing. He’d never wear it again, probably. Although, Francis seems fixed on it, up to the point where he reaches out and grasps his wrist and turns it over to look more closely. Ash falls on his hand and he doesn’t even flinch. Butch wonders what he’s thinking.
"Party not doing it for you, Butch?" Francis asks, still holding his wrist, sliding his fingers underneath the rope and leather and cheap metal. The pulse in his thumb beats against his veins.
"Nah. I mean it helps, but I’ve been in better company." Butch smokes and talks and only one side of his face is lit when he raises his hand past his mouth and ear and kisses the heel of Francis’ palm. "I’ve got some good ideas, if you’d like to hear them."
"The way you said that makes you sound like a serial killer."
"I think you meant to say ‘brilliant novelist.’"
"My accent. You know how it is."
Butch laughs, and it’s genuine and kind.
"Cough up some of those bucks and take me to dinner. Man can’t live on hors d’oeuvres alone."
Jedediah tells Octavius what it’s like one night. His home, what he remembers. It’s fabricated, maybe, but he tells Octavius about fur trading and wide open plains, about warm sun and great hulking beasts and golden grass and streams and earth. Gold, he emphasizes that, and Octavius knows the color well, given the empire’s riches. Jedediah shakes his head when Octavius mentions it. “Not that gold,” he says. “Well, yes, that gold. But natural gold. Gold that’s too free to be justa stone. The stone stuff is good too, lemme tell you. But I’m talkin’ about sunrise and sunset lightin’ the whole goddamned world up. You’re swimmin’ in it, Octy.” Octavius reminds Jed they too have fields of golden grass in Rome, sunsets and sunrises. Jedediah begs to differ, and peers at the immaculate white and blue everywhere in the diorama beside his dusty one.
And that day he dreams about it.
It is a simple dream. Octavius is familiar with them. So long as there is no bloodshed, he favors them.
He is in the middle of one of those wide open plains. He is full sized, but out of uniform. He wears cloth similar to Jed, dusty and rough. True to Jedediah’s words, the world before him is bathed in gold. Even the earth, kicked up by his borrowed boot, shimmers in the air.
Jed approaches on a wagon, guided by an old, heavy horse. He doesn’t say a word, but he smiles, and Octavius finds himself passed by, and then finds himself grasping the edge of the wagon and hanging on, hoisting himself up one of the slats on the side. He sticks his boots through the lower slat and leaned over the rail, tipped almost into the bales of hay inside the wagon. Jed rides on in front of him. The wheels creak below.
"Jed, my friend." Octavius hears himself say. "Where are we going?"
Jedediah turns to him and tips his hat, dusty smile in place.
Off to the wild blue yonder, he says without moving his mouth. Right where we’re supposed to be.
The horse clops forward and the sun is warm. Octavius bows his head to the cowboy. Onward, they ride into the sun, into night.
i’ll tell you something else that’s ready
It’s muttered, quiet enough to be passed over in the room and forgotten, but still a pink-faced Ray has to edit it out later, rubbing his face and hissing ‘gay’ to Michael beside him low enough that Geoff doesn’t hear, because Geoff doesn’t have to know. Gavin doesn’t have to explain how or why he’s choked a little bit on his soda, because that’s a regular enough occurrence.
Michael makes fun of it later because it’s a Gavin thing to do, to say, even though the words made Michael glare in the middle of the office. Gavin doesn’t take it personally. He never does. He just enjoys the show. He appreciated the change of costume. It makes it much more interesting. He’s always loved how intensely Michael concentrates on a game, and watching him in competition in shorts and a sleeveless shirt with tattoos and straining arms and shifting fingers, Gavin can safely say he was very ready.
When Michael tells Gavin later, ragging on Gavin for actually saying something like that in a crowded room, that Ray had heard him, Gavin is worried.It only lasts a moment, because surely he can pass it off as a joke. Michael assures him it is fine, that Ray doesn’t give a shit, and he ruffles Gavin’s hair and bites his jawbone, gentle and rough and it’s enough for Gavin to wriggle into his lap and push his sleeves up his shoulders to see the tattoo and feel his arms tense and fingers shift over his skin. Michael doesn’t even have to say it, but he does, laughing.
"I’ll tell you something else that’s ready."
Asked by Anonymous
Oh wow wow wow okay I just have a lot of happiness thank you so much <3 Wife and I really appreciate taking the time to tell me nice things anon.
Honestly, things just happen when Wife and I RP. Seriously. This time around I think we were just chatting and suddenly the idea of dick piercings came up and we’re like ‘haha how hot would it be if Gav had dick piercings and fucked Michael with them?’
And then we had a thing.
The process itself takes days because we fall asleep on each other and flail aimlessly about cat videos and late night TV and youtube stuff. And the writing is mostly comprised of posts and then aggravated groaning because seriously I have to go after that AFTER THAT WHAT THE HELL HOW DO YOU HAVE SUCH A MASTERY OVER THE LANGUAGE YOU’RE KILLING ME HERE CHRIST. And then editing.
Thank you again for giving Friendum a read and taking the time to write a nice note. I hope whatever meal you skipped still tasted really good when you got to it afterwards.
The song stops and Christy is no longer looking at the things in the room - but the elephant. The dragon. “Well Christy?” It asks her. His voice - Dark Heart’s voice, is much deeper than she remembers. She shifts her weight. “What do you think?” He continues to speak to her, his voice and size diminishing as he approaches her until he is her size again, a red-eyed, red-haired boy in a red track suit. “Don’t you find all of this incredible, Christy?” He takes her upper arms, drags them down to her forearms, her wrists, her hands. “This can be ours. Yours, if you like, if you persuade me.” He’d excited and it frightens her a little, the intensity she sees in his eyes. They flash with something beyond her understanding.
"The song was nice." She tries. Instead of the scowl she was expecting, he grins.
"It was, wasn’t it?"
Asked by catch-thecumbersnitch
OH WOW OKAY YES I TOTES CAN I have more fics of them in the folder of a million things and if I weren’t so intolerably lazy I’d have posted them by now! Whee!
I do plan on posting something every couple of days. Different things. Thingy things.
all of them from ages ago because I can’t write new things worth half a damn anymore crap
But thank you for reading and enjoying and saying such kind things <3
Fandom : Xmen First Class
Pairing : Cherik/Charik
Rating : PG-13 [Adorable adult shenanigans]
Summary : Charles isn’t very good with horror movies. Seeing the premiere of Jaws was probably a terrible idea.
Word Count : 1510
Note : In honor of shark week, have this older drabble! It’s got sharks mentioned in it that counts right?
I’m so sorry.
Hi followers! There’s 280 of you now and I can’t imagine why. But thank you! I love you all <3
I’ve been a terrible writer not writing a thing and procrastinating, even after work has been so generous to give a sort of forced vacation.
All is well, I am just a lazy sack and I feel sluggish and unmotivated to do things. Meh. I have some stuff in the wings, but I am daunted by editing.
Expect something soon, even a little itty bitty thingymajiger. If not, throw something at me in my inbox please. I need the motivation. Mehh.
Set of back flexing gifs that looked helpful.
The models name I believe is Michael Hoffman.
Gavin doesn’t know why he thought this was a good idea. It was, it really was, but he has no idea how he ever could have possibly thought that he could work under these conditions.
Dan is fresh from war, fresh from the shower, fresh from bed and standing half naked in front of the Phantom Flex while flexing. Gavin would have giggled, had he been able to think past the man in front of him, rolling his shoulders and raising his arms.
"Are you sure this is going to work, B?" Dan looks over his shoulder briefly, his arms raised and in curls. "Show up on camera, I mean."
"Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry about it." Gavin says, he licks his lips and Dan doesn’t even bother to check on him. He just keeps going
Gavin is awestruck by it, really. That’s the nicest word for it. The proper word is aroused. What Dan is doing is filthy. It’s a tease. It’s not fair. He’s tanned and roughened and so muscular now it’s insane. The hours and hours of hard work, of bravery and training and sacrifice show brilliantly. Gavin loves it. He wants to touch. He wants to look at this forever. He wants very many things, none of them decent, only a handful innocent.
"Did you press the button?"
"The button, Gav- Bloody hell I did all that and you didn’t even press it? You idiot." Dan approached him and cuffs him lightly upside his head. Gavin bats his arm away, then makes a grab for it.
"Wait - wait wait just a second-" Gavin says, already breathless already leaning up and grabbing the back of his neck and kissing him. He can feel the muscles in his shoulders and back move under his fingers and Gavin digs his fingers in so hard they hurt. Dan just laughs. He fucking laughs because it doesn’t hurt. Gavin is just desperate.
Then Gavin is in the air, lifted up and taken away from this room. His legs have already wrapped around Dan’s waist, bare heels in Dan’s lower back and fingers still stuck in the muscled shoulders, climbing down his back. God it’s all so hard.
"I’ve got you Gavin, I’ve got you." Dan says. He doesn’t have to. Gavin knows. Dan’s always had him, and Gavin is going to let Dan have him over and over until they’re exhausted. And then he’ll be free to touch and kiss and grab. And then he’ll remember he left the camera out in the open, and he’ll rush to fix it and put it away, and Dan will stand and watch him and admire all the things he likes about Gavin’s body quietly, then aloud, and then physically until they can’t move.
Asked by haisun
I have! I am just awful at uploading things or being consistent at all! No need to apologize.
I have some fics up at my FFN account [ http://www (.) fanfiction (.) net/~kokolo ] and at my y!gallery account [ http://www (.) y-gallery (.) net/user/kokolo/] but for the yGal one you’re going to need to have an account and be over 18 years old. I will upload more things eventually I promise I am just bad at… everything. Mmhm.