No really, try listening to the song (if you can find it) while you read.
Title: Rallentando
Fandom: Justice League
Characters: Booster/Beetle, Beatriz
Prompt: "Sunrise."
Word Count: 1233
Rating: R/NC-17
Author's Notes: Someone asked for Boostle smut while I was listening to "Slow" by Kylie Minogue. ...What can I say? I'm impressionable. ;)
Also listened to while writing ('cause seriously, I can only listen to one song on a loop for so long): "Body" by The Servant.
The title is me being a research geek. It's an Italian word for a change in tempo. Rallentando, "slowing down." And now you know. ^_^
OMG unbetaed!
Rallentando
It's like having no self-control. He has it. He knows he does. Just...not right now.
Not when Booster's hips are weaving like that. When he can feel the beat of the techno-crap music pulsing through his body. Especially when Booster looks at him through his lashes and quirks his mouth like a smirk that's really a smile because he knows.
He knows he looks like distilled sex. Concentrated seduction.
And he knows Ted can't resist for long.
Ted should know better than to go with Booster to any club that has music. Because the man will invariably start his slow, measured attack on Ted's clearly defined heterosexuality.
Yet somehow Ted never seems to learn. ...Or maybe he just doesn't want to.
What he wants is about three more beers so he can blame it on being drunk.
What he does is rise from their table and follow the seductive sway of his best friend's body.
They're at the edge of the crush of bodies and Booster grins at him like any time they're hanging out and having fun and just ten seconds away from pulling another brilliant Blue and Gold prank. Or maybe ten seconds after, when they're running away and hiding together, clenching their teeth in wide grins to hold in the laughter that will give them away.
Then Booster's hands stroke down Ted's chest, which is so strange to feel while looking at that familiar grin. There should be whoopie cushions or yelling teammates, not flushing skin and shortened breath. Ted shouldn't be letting the gentle touch guide him closer, shouldn't close his eyes when he realizes that's Booster's breath brushing against his cheek.
But then, maybe it's better that his eyes are closed. The hands sliding down to settle on his hips, encouraging him to move them to the same rhythm, could belong to anyone. A woman, even.
...But they don't. They're Booster's. They couldn't belong to anyone but Booster, because Ted knows the feel of Booster's hands on his body. He knows this rhythm, which is theirs and doesn't follow the music but is close enough that anyone else would think that's what they were dancing to. He knows, inhaling deeply as he lifts his nose along the invisible aura of Booster's neck, what the man smells like.
And he knows, opening his eyes to the clear blue understanding in Booster's eyes, that it's time to leave.
They never stay longer than it takes for Ted to become intoxicated with the overwhelming Boosterness of Booster. To admit to himself that he wants this. To let his body override the panicked voice of straightness demanding he listen to reason.
He won't. Not now. Not until tomorrow morning, when the sun rises over their sated bodies and Ted's mind is clear of the desperate longing of hormones and pheromones. When he can tear his eyes away from the sight of fresh sunlight caressing Booster's mussed blond hair and unabashedly bared skin.
When he can lie to himself and maybe laugh it off while Booster stares up at him from the bed he's convincing himself he wants to leave. When Booster smiles knowingly, but too quiet.
Ted can feel guilty about that later. Now...now he's stroking Booster's cheek as he tilts his head to meet the man's lips. His heart pounds, as it always does, at being so public. Exposed, vulnerable, conspicuous.
But the lights are low and erratic and Booster's mouth is so very, very warm. So wet and inviting, and his hands are leaving bruises on his hips that Ted will have to carefully ignore until they fade, because he knows what bruises the exact size and shape of Booster's hands look like on his skin.
Because he doesn't want to think of the tiny shivering curl of pleasure in his gut when he sees them.
Just as their lips part, Ted feels Booster tense and reads a silent curse on those lips he was just kissing.
"Booster?"
Now it's Ted's turn to tense and he feels his pulse jump as he breathes a curse in Booster's ear. He doesn't need to look at the man's face to see his wince.
"Who's your friend?" Bea's smirking voice asks from behind him.
Looking up, Ted can see an apology in Booster's eyes as they meet his and...suddenly he doesn't want to see it there. He doesn't want Booster's apologies or regrets. He doesn't want to wake up with guilt gnawing at his throat as he wraps himself in excuses and avoids looking at his best friend. He doesn't want Booster accommodating him and his stubborn heterosexuality while stealing brief moments of togetherness through a haze of night before the morning after.
He doesn't want Booster forgiving him for making him do that.
Ted strokes a hand over Booster's shoulder and ducks his head for a moment before turning and raising his eyes to meet the surprise in Bea's. He can see himself reflected in her face. Skin flushed, eyes glazed, lips kiss-bruised, covered in an aura of Booster Was Here. Dignity rallying, he raises an eyebrow at her with a cockiness he doesn't feel.
Bea's lips move in a silent "Oh" and...after a moment she smiles at his steady gaze. Her eyebrows wiggle a little and her smile becomes the grin of a friend sharing a secret. Glancing over Ted's shoulder at Booster, she winks at them and turns to disappear into the crowd of gyrating bodies.
Letting out the breath he didn't realize he was holding, Ted leans back against Booster and the man kisses his ear as his hands come around Ted's waist again. Ted turns in the circle of his arms and stares up at him, seeing worry and uncertainty on Booster's face.
He leans up and kisses it away, fitting his body against Booster's in that way that's perfect and them.
They part and this time it's Ted's turn to lead, guiding Booster toward the exit and then to his bed. Stealing kisses and touches on the way, regaining their rhythm, playing it slower, the way it was meant to be. No frenzied fumblings or hasty shoving, hiding from the now with hurried straining toward completion before the actions can soak through Ted's lust-drenched brain.
It's like a first time, and it's the self-control he knew he had. They don't fall on the bed in a tangle of frantic limbs as usual. They take their time, undressing each other, caressing skin as clothing whispers to the floor.
There's time for part of Ted's mind to scream at him that Booster is a man, and as he licks across Booster's smooth, flat chest he has to agree.
Booster's hand finds his and the fingers lace together. And that gives Ted pause. Because...this is something. Tonight, this means something. Tomorrow, this will still mean something.
As they lay beside each other, stroking places they'd barely explored before, Ted thinks that he wants this to mean something. Booster's skin is warm and slick with sweat, his mouth pressed to Ted's as they move against each other, fitting together in a way that's perfect and them.
When the sun rises tomorrow, it will still flow over their naked, sated flesh. But this time, Ted thinks he'd like to follow the rays dancing over Booster's body with his hands. Wants to feel Booster's smile against his lips.
Tomorrow he wants no regrets.
Fandom: Justice League
Characters: Booster/Beetle, Beatriz
Prompt: "Sunrise."
Word Count: 1233
Rating: R/NC-17
Author's Notes: Someone asked for Boostle smut while I was listening to "Slow" by Kylie Minogue. ...What can I say? I'm impressionable. ;)
Also listened to while writing ('cause seriously, I can only listen to one song on a loop for so long): "Body" by The Servant.
The title is me being a research geek. It's an Italian word for a change in tempo. Rallentando, "slowing down." And now you know. ^_^
OMG unbetaed!
Rallentando
It's like having no self-control. He has it. He knows he does. Just...not right now.
Not when Booster's hips are weaving like that. When he can feel the beat of the techno-crap music pulsing through his body. Especially when Booster looks at him through his lashes and quirks his mouth like a smirk that's really a smile because he knows.
He knows he looks like distilled sex. Concentrated seduction.
And he knows Ted can't resist for long.
Ted should know better than to go with Booster to any club that has music. Because the man will invariably start his slow, measured attack on Ted's clearly defined heterosexuality.
Yet somehow Ted never seems to learn. ...Or maybe he just doesn't want to.
What he wants is about three more beers so he can blame it on being drunk.
What he does is rise from their table and follow the seductive sway of his best friend's body.
They're at the edge of the crush of bodies and Booster grins at him like any time they're hanging out and having fun and just ten seconds away from pulling another brilliant Blue and Gold prank. Or maybe ten seconds after, when they're running away and hiding together, clenching their teeth in wide grins to hold in the laughter that will give them away.
Then Booster's hands stroke down Ted's chest, which is so strange to feel while looking at that familiar grin. There should be whoopie cushions or yelling teammates, not flushing skin and shortened breath. Ted shouldn't be letting the gentle touch guide him closer, shouldn't close his eyes when he realizes that's Booster's breath brushing against his cheek.
But then, maybe it's better that his eyes are closed. The hands sliding down to settle on his hips, encouraging him to move them to the same rhythm, could belong to anyone. A woman, even.
...But they don't. They're Booster's. They couldn't belong to anyone but Booster, because Ted knows the feel of Booster's hands on his body. He knows this rhythm, which is theirs and doesn't follow the music but is close enough that anyone else would think that's what they were dancing to. He knows, inhaling deeply as he lifts his nose along the invisible aura of Booster's neck, what the man smells like.
And he knows, opening his eyes to the clear blue understanding in Booster's eyes, that it's time to leave.
They never stay longer than it takes for Ted to become intoxicated with the overwhelming Boosterness of Booster. To admit to himself that he wants this. To let his body override the panicked voice of straightness demanding he listen to reason.
He won't. Not now. Not until tomorrow morning, when the sun rises over their sated bodies and Ted's mind is clear of the desperate longing of hormones and pheromones. When he can tear his eyes away from the sight of fresh sunlight caressing Booster's mussed blond hair and unabashedly bared skin.
When he can lie to himself and maybe laugh it off while Booster stares up at him from the bed he's convincing himself he wants to leave. When Booster smiles knowingly, but too quiet.
Ted can feel guilty about that later. Now...now he's stroking Booster's cheek as he tilts his head to meet the man's lips. His heart pounds, as it always does, at being so public. Exposed, vulnerable, conspicuous.
But the lights are low and erratic and Booster's mouth is so very, very warm. So wet and inviting, and his hands are leaving bruises on his hips that Ted will have to carefully ignore until they fade, because he knows what bruises the exact size and shape of Booster's hands look like on his skin.
Because he doesn't want to think of the tiny shivering curl of pleasure in his gut when he sees them.
Just as their lips part, Ted feels Booster tense and reads a silent curse on those lips he was just kissing.
"Booster?"
Now it's Ted's turn to tense and he feels his pulse jump as he breathes a curse in Booster's ear. He doesn't need to look at the man's face to see his wince.
"Who's your friend?" Bea's smirking voice asks from behind him.
Looking up, Ted can see an apology in Booster's eyes as they meet his and...suddenly he doesn't want to see it there. He doesn't want Booster's apologies or regrets. He doesn't want to wake up with guilt gnawing at his throat as he wraps himself in excuses and avoids looking at his best friend. He doesn't want Booster accommodating him and his stubborn heterosexuality while stealing brief moments of togetherness through a haze of night before the morning after.
He doesn't want Booster forgiving him for making him do that.
Ted strokes a hand over Booster's shoulder and ducks his head for a moment before turning and raising his eyes to meet the surprise in Bea's. He can see himself reflected in her face. Skin flushed, eyes glazed, lips kiss-bruised, covered in an aura of Booster Was Here. Dignity rallying, he raises an eyebrow at her with a cockiness he doesn't feel.
Bea's lips move in a silent "Oh" and...after a moment she smiles at his steady gaze. Her eyebrows wiggle a little and her smile becomes the grin of a friend sharing a secret. Glancing over Ted's shoulder at Booster, she winks at them and turns to disappear into the crowd of gyrating bodies.
Letting out the breath he didn't realize he was holding, Ted leans back against Booster and the man kisses his ear as his hands come around Ted's waist again. Ted turns in the circle of his arms and stares up at him, seeing worry and uncertainty on Booster's face.
He leans up and kisses it away, fitting his body against Booster's in that way that's perfect and them.
They part and this time it's Ted's turn to lead, guiding Booster toward the exit and then to his bed. Stealing kisses and touches on the way, regaining their rhythm, playing it slower, the way it was meant to be. No frenzied fumblings or hasty shoving, hiding from the now with hurried straining toward completion before the actions can soak through Ted's lust-drenched brain.
It's like a first time, and it's the self-control he knew he had. They don't fall on the bed in a tangle of frantic limbs as usual. They take their time, undressing each other, caressing skin as clothing whispers to the floor.
There's time for part of Ted's mind to scream at him that Booster is a man, and as he licks across Booster's smooth, flat chest he has to agree.
Booster's hand finds his and the fingers lace together. And that gives Ted pause. Because...this is something. Tonight, this means something. Tomorrow, this will still mean something.
As they lay beside each other, stroking places they'd barely explored before, Ted thinks that he wants this to mean something. Booster's skin is warm and slick with sweat, his mouth pressed to Ted's as they move against each other, fitting together in a way that's perfect and them.
When the sun rises tomorrow, it will still flow over their naked, sated flesh. But this time, Ted thinks he'd like to follow the rays dancing over Booster's body with his hands. Wants to feel Booster's smile against his lips.
Tomorrow he wants no regrets.