Deathstars: Malice On My Mind
Title: Malice On My Mind
Author: doomedloves
Beta: m_artsa
Fandom: Deathstars
Pairing: Cat Casino/Whiplasher Bernadotte
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Slash, fluff, drama
Words: 480
Summary: Cat is upset and smoking. Whip stares.
A/N: m_artsa gave me a challenge - use words muscle, night and lock and the dialogue "We checked under the coffee table and under the couch but still can't make the finding of where it is." Here you go, love. Thank you.
Disclaimer: Cat, Whip and Skinny aren't mine. This story, however, is, as well as my imagination. And this story? As far as I know it's not true. Too bad.
I could stare at him all night, smoking his cigarettes. Slowly inhaling, holding the cig between his long, slender fingers, then exhaling, the bittersweet smoke emerging from between his full, pink lips. And again and again, I kept staring at him while he smoked the entire cigarette pack. Chain smoker, we called him, but I really didn't care.
There was one thing in the entire world that was beyond sexy and it was Cat smoking. The way his eyelids fell when he inhaled for the first time, the familiar taste on his tongue, the nicotine filling his body, making the crankiness disappear, the way the burning ashes fell onto the ground and he didn't care, the way he dropped the cigarette and stomped onto it with his military boots. Boots that looked awkward on him because he was so petite and the boots were huge.
"So, did you find my phone?" Cat turned to me, looking irritated. Skinny had taken Cat's phone, tossed it onto the floor, kicked it somewhere and now it couldn't be found. Funny pranks of Skinny - they never ceased to irritate the living Hell out of everyone else.
"We checked under the coffee table and under the couch but still can't make the finding of where it is."
"God damn it", Cat muttered under his breath, the last cigarette already gone but he still needed more, more of the sweet nicotine that'd make everything seem just a little bit better, at least for a while.
I took a few steps towards him, and his eyes were locked on mine.
"You know, it's going to be found. The room isn't that big, Kitten", I tried to smile but I couldn't.
"I wish I could just punch Skinny but I can't."
"Why not? You already slapped him."
"Yeah, but slapping isn't punching. It's not like I've enough muscles to actually punch someone. Girly slaps are fine."
"I could punch him", I offered, smiling teasingly. He bit his lip and squeezed my arm.
"I guess you could. Make it hard."
"Just be there and you'll make everything hard", I said, winking. Cat laughed and slid his hand down my arm, grabbing my hand and entwining our fingers.
"I guess it won't matter if I don't find my phone. I will just have to find another place to spend the night in."
Cat was supposed to call his mother when we were back in Sweden and ask her to pick him up from the airport. She had just got a new phone number, Cat didn't remember it and thus needed his phone. Skinny had just ended up messing everything up.
"You could borrow my couch", I grinned.
"Only if you're on it, too."
"I'd rather be on you", I said and snaked my arm around his thin waist. "Let's go beat Skinny, shall we?"
"Hell yeah."
Author: doomedloves
Beta: m_artsa
Fandom: Deathstars
Pairing: Cat Casino/Whiplasher Bernadotte
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Slash, fluff, drama
Words: 480
Summary: Cat is upset and smoking. Whip stares.
A/N: m_artsa gave me a challenge - use words muscle, night and lock and the dialogue "We checked under the coffee table and under the couch but still can't make the finding of where it is." Here you go, love. Thank you.
Disclaimer: Cat, Whip and Skinny aren't mine. This story, however, is, as well as my imagination. And this story? As far as I know it's not true. Too bad.
I could stare at him all night, smoking his cigarettes. Slowly inhaling, holding the cig between his long, slender fingers, then exhaling, the bittersweet smoke emerging from between his full, pink lips. And again and again, I kept staring at him while he smoked the entire cigarette pack. Chain smoker, we called him, but I really didn't care.
There was one thing in the entire world that was beyond sexy and it was Cat smoking. The way his eyelids fell when he inhaled for the first time, the familiar taste on his tongue, the nicotine filling his body, making the crankiness disappear, the way the burning ashes fell onto the ground and he didn't care, the way he dropped the cigarette and stomped onto it with his military boots. Boots that looked awkward on him because he was so petite and the boots were huge.
"So, did you find my phone?" Cat turned to me, looking irritated. Skinny had taken Cat's phone, tossed it onto the floor, kicked it somewhere and now it couldn't be found. Funny pranks of Skinny - they never ceased to irritate the living Hell out of everyone else.
"We checked under the coffee table and under the couch but still can't make the finding of where it is."
"God damn it", Cat muttered under his breath, the last cigarette already gone but he still needed more, more of the sweet nicotine that'd make everything seem just a little bit better, at least for a while.
I took a few steps towards him, and his eyes were locked on mine.
"You know, it's going to be found. The room isn't that big, Kitten", I tried to smile but I couldn't.
"I wish I could just punch Skinny but I can't."
"Why not? You already slapped him."
"Yeah, but slapping isn't punching. It's not like I've enough muscles to actually punch someone. Girly slaps are fine."
"I could punch him", I offered, smiling teasingly. He bit his lip and squeezed my arm.
"I guess you could. Make it hard."
"Just be there and you'll make everything hard", I said, winking. Cat laughed and slid his hand down my arm, grabbing my hand and entwining our fingers.
"I guess it won't matter if I don't find my phone. I will just have to find another place to spend the night in."
Cat was supposed to call his mother when we were back in Sweden and ask her to pick him up from the airport. She had just got a new phone number, Cat didn't remember it and thus needed his phone. Skinny had just ended up messing everything up.
"You could borrow my couch", I grinned.
"Only if you're on it, too."
"I'd rather be on you", I said and snaked my arm around his thin waist. "Let's go beat Skinny, shall we?"
"Hell yeah."