The Big Damn List offers bondage, of a sort....
Title: Never Had Wings
Fandom: Justice League
Characters: Booster/Beetle
Prompt: "Square."
Word Count: 850
Rating: PG-13
Author's Notes: Based on my " Songs To Write Bondage To" post.
"Change (In The House Of Flies)" by Deftones. Scene-setting description: "Low, steady, mellow, dark, locked in a chill and dusty blue room with uncertainty and anticipation making the pulse race."
There may or may not be more than one more of these. Haven't decided yet. We'll see.
Beta by wonderfish.
Never Had Wings
Booster had been drugged before. Drugged, drunk, and injured, all to varying degrees.
This was a little like all of them in some way and something else entirely.
He felt delirious but not sick, brief flashes of coherent images flashing across his vision. Voices murmured around him, faces peeked at him. And through it all, the one thing he really remembered, that stood out from the cacophony of confused sensory input, was Ted glancing over his shoulder at him with a look he'd never seen before.
Then everything went dark for a while.
When Booster woke, he was in a room. Bigger than a closet, smaller than a regular room. Maybe the size of a small bathroom.
It was blue.
The light, from some unknown source above him (he thought), was almost like weak sunshine. Despite it, though, the room remained cool, like the first beginning chill of autumn. The blue remained consistently medium, with flecks and cracks of darker blue.
It almost reminded him of Beetle's costume.
Almost the same shade of blue, but off slightly. More muted, lifeless...oppressive.
And dusty, Booster had noticed, wiping his hands against each other after pushing himself to his feet. He was still groggy and disoriented, but he set about finding out everything he could about his new surroundings. Examining the room revealed a door, set in the wall so that it easily blended in with the tiny dark blue cracks, with no indication that it had been designed so that it could be opened from the inside.
If there was a window letting the light in, it was so far up that Booster couldn't see it without being blinded by the light. Aside from the one-sided door, the mysterious light source, the dust, and the color, all he could determine about the room was that the floor looked to be completely square and the whole thing felt like concrete or something similar.
He got the uneasy feeling that he was being watched.
Having been stripped of his costume and, consequently, anything that might help him escape, Booster was left with the option of waiting for someone to notice he was missing, decide it was worth the trouble to look for him, and then actually find and rescue him. He hadn't seriously annoyed anyone for at least a week, and he was hopeful.
So Booster waited.
And waited.
"A guy could get a complex," he muttered to himself, trying not to imagine his friends deciding they were better off without him.
At least whoever had captured, confined, and stripped him had provided pants. Loose grey sweats, but they were his size.
Booster waited.
There wasn't much else he could do. The dust, or sand, or whatever the substance was, blended in with the floor too much for him to write in it. And anyway tic-tac-toe wasn't much fun with just one person.
Booster waited, and took a nap.
When he woke up, Ted was standing over him.
A grin started to slide across his mouth, but abruptly stopped when he got a good look at the man. Ted's expression was blank, and odd in a way Booster was unfamiliar with. And he was wearing a plaid blue shirt and jeans.
It didn't look like Ted was there to rescue him. In fact, Booster was getting the very uncomfortable impression that Ted was the reason he needed rescuing in the first place.
Ted cocked his head to one side, blank expression twitching slightly but still remaining oddly blank. "I didn't expect to ever see you again."
Something about his voice, flat and emotionless in ways Ted's voice was never meant to be, sent a chill down Booster's spine. Licking his lips, he opened his mouth and tried to think of a response. "I..."
"You died."
Booster's mouth snapped shut with an audible click. His eyes widened as he stared up at Ted, who was slowly leaning down. Ted's fingers danced over Booster's jaw before sliding under and cupping it.
Nose nudging Booster's hair, Ted whispered in his ear, "You died, though it wasn't really you, my friend."
A warm, wet sensation slithered over Booster's ear and he shivered. Ted had just licked him.
"I hope you last longer than he did."
Then everything went dark again.
When Booster woke, he lay on his back and stared up at the sourceless light.
He was almost positive that though the man who had captured him looked like Ted, he was not the Ted that Booster knew. He was also almost positive that at least one other Booster had been captured and was no longer not-Ted's prisoner. And he was absolutely, completely positive that that wasn't because not-Ted had decided to let other-Booster go.
Remembering the possessive, reverent touch of not-Ted's hand, the hunger in not-Ted's eyes, the wet heat of not-Ted's tongue.... Something stirred inside of him, twisting and grasping and begging for every dark promise hidden in that blank expression. And Booster was only slightly positive that he still wanted to be rescued.
The rest of him wanted to find out how long he'd last.
-----
Fandom: Justice League
Characters: Booster/Beetle
Prompt: "Square."
Word Count: 850
Rating: PG-13
Author's Notes: Based on my " Songs To Write Bondage To" post.
"Change (In The House Of Flies)" by Deftones. Scene-setting description: "Low, steady, mellow, dark, locked in a chill and dusty blue room with uncertainty and anticipation making the pulse race."
There may or may not be more than one more of these. Haven't decided yet. We'll see.
Beta by wonderfish.
Never Had Wings
Booster had been drugged before. Drugged, drunk, and injured, all to varying degrees.
This was a little like all of them in some way and something else entirely.
He felt delirious but not sick, brief flashes of coherent images flashing across his vision. Voices murmured around him, faces peeked at him. And through it all, the one thing he really remembered, that stood out from the cacophony of confused sensory input, was Ted glancing over his shoulder at him with a look he'd never seen before.
Then everything went dark for a while.
When Booster woke, he was in a room. Bigger than a closet, smaller than a regular room. Maybe the size of a small bathroom.
It was blue.
The light, from some unknown source above him (he thought), was almost like weak sunshine. Despite it, though, the room remained cool, like the first beginning chill of autumn. The blue remained consistently medium, with flecks and cracks of darker blue.
It almost reminded him of Beetle's costume.
Almost the same shade of blue, but off slightly. More muted, lifeless...oppressive.
And dusty, Booster had noticed, wiping his hands against each other after pushing himself to his feet. He was still groggy and disoriented, but he set about finding out everything he could about his new surroundings. Examining the room revealed a door, set in the wall so that it easily blended in with the tiny dark blue cracks, with no indication that it had been designed so that it could be opened from the inside.
If there was a window letting the light in, it was so far up that Booster couldn't see it without being blinded by the light. Aside from the one-sided door, the mysterious light source, the dust, and the color, all he could determine about the room was that the floor looked to be completely square and the whole thing felt like concrete or something similar.
He got the uneasy feeling that he was being watched.
Having been stripped of his costume and, consequently, anything that might help him escape, Booster was left with the option of waiting for someone to notice he was missing, decide it was worth the trouble to look for him, and then actually find and rescue him. He hadn't seriously annoyed anyone for at least a week, and he was hopeful.
So Booster waited.
And waited.
"A guy could get a complex," he muttered to himself, trying not to imagine his friends deciding they were better off without him.
At least whoever had captured, confined, and stripped him had provided pants. Loose grey sweats, but they were his size.
Booster waited.
There wasn't much else he could do. The dust, or sand, or whatever the substance was, blended in with the floor too much for him to write in it. And anyway tic-tac-toe wasn't much fun with just one person.
Booster waited, and took a nap.
When he woke up, Ted was standing over him.
A grin started to slide across his mouth, but abruptly stopped when he got a good look at the man. Ted's expression was blank, and odd in a way Booster was unfamiliar with. And he was wearing a plaid blue shirt and jeans.
It didn't look like Ted was there to rescue him. In fact, Booster was getting the very uncomfortable impression that Ted was the reason he needed rescuing in the first place.
Ted cocked his head to one side, blank expression twitching slightly but still remaining oddly blank. "I didn't expect to ever see you again."
Something about his voice, flat and emotionless in ways Ted's voice was never meant to be, sent a chill down Booster's spine. Licking his lips, he opened his mouth and tried to think of a response. "I..."
"You died."
Booster's mouth snapped shut with an audible click. His eyes widened as he stared up at Ted, who was slowly leaning down. Ted's fingers danced over Booster's jaw before sliding under and cupping it.
Nose nudging Booster's hair, Ted whispered in his ear, "You died, though it wasn't really you, my friend."
A warm, wet sensation slithered over Booster's ear and he shivered. Ted had just licked him.
"I hope you last longer than he did."
Then everything went dark again.
When Booster woke, he lay on his back and stared up at the sourceless light.
He was almost positive that though the man who had captured him looked like Ted, he was not the Ted that Booster knew. He was also almost positive that at least one other Booster had been captured and was no longer not-Ted's prisoner. And he was absolutely, completely positive that that wasn't because not-Ted had decided to let other-Booster go.
Remembering the possessive, reverent touch of not-Ted's hand, the hunger in not-Ted's eyes, the wet heat of not-Ted's tongue.... Something stirred inside of him, twisting and grasping and begging for every dark promise hidden in that blank expression. And Booster was only slightly positive that he still wanted to be rescued.
The rest of him wanted to find out how long he'd last.
-----