Fluke
Title: Fluke
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: QAF
Pairing: Hunter/Daphne
You answer the door sans pants, as per usual. Too much time living on the streets has made new clothes uncomfortable. You miss your clothes; the ones before Michael and Ben. One day you’d woken up and discovered everything of your past, clothes-wise, was gone. And in their place lay stiff pants and itchy shirts. Of course, you didn’t complain. No matter how much you gripe, you know you’re lucky. And even though you’ll never admit it, Ben’s growing on you, as well as Michael. You still can’t figure out how Michael got so lucky.
“Who the fuck are you?” you demand.
Your nakedness doesn’t shake her.
“Ah, Hunter, right?”
“Yeah,”
Michael sticks his head out of the kitchen, yelling, “Who’s there?”
You look over your shoulder and holler, “Some chick.”
“Hunter, I fucking swear, you better have some Goddamn pants on.”
The girl grins and rolls her eyes. “Please, I go to The Loft all the time,” she maneuvers around you not missing a beat. “If I had a dollar for every time Brian answered the door in all his glory,” she sighs, and winks at you. You can’t help but feel a pain of envy. “I wouldn’t be living off ramen.”
“Daphne?” Michael, wiping his hands on his jeans, joins us. “What are…” His eyes land on you. “Jesus, Hunter, put some fucking pants on.”
Rotating your eyes upward, you mutter darkly but go in search of some pants. It’s not like you can’t hear everything that happens in your home anyways. You pause--your home, it’s not the first time you’ve thought it, but for some reason, it still brings a smile to your lips. Maybe one day you’ll actually say it aloud. But for now, it’ll stay where it’s been.
“Yeah, sorry, anyway, why are you here?”
You chuckle softly; subtle-bility is not the word to describe your “mom.” Is that even a word? It is now. Spotting some cargo pants, you pluck them off the floor, sniff them and deem them clean enough.
“I need your help.” She pops her knuckles.
“Okay.”
“Well, see, ya know how Justin and Ben’s birthdays are the same day…?”
You wander back out.
“…I was thinking that we could throw a surprise party for them.” The light hits her teeth and for a second you’re mesmerized by her smile.
“I don’t know…” Michael hesitates. “Last surprise party didn’t go over so well.” He doesn’t elaborate and again you’re reminded that there was a time before you were here.
“Please,” she pleads. “I know how Brian feels about birthdays, I really want to make this day special for Justin.”
“What are you talking about? Brian’s never felt any animosity,” You have to bite your lip to stop from laughing, Michael and his word-a-day calendars. “towards birthdays, ‘cept his own. Like for my 30th he invited everyone, it was crazy, he got me the coolest gift,” Michael sighed, “Captain Astro #1.”
“What a freak.” You shake your head. Daphne catches your eye, smirks and nods in agreement.
“Come on, Michael, it’s just that,” she nibbles her lip, “Justin hasn’t had a proper birthday since before he came out.” She closes her mouth, also not elaborating, but you understand/ Obviously, she and Justin are close.
“Yeah, seriously, d-a-a-d,” you add an extra three syllables, making “dad” sound half-sarcastic and half-whine, you could be Michael and Brian’s kid. But then you’d have, like, a reverse-gay Oedipus Complex, which would just be nasty.
“Well, I guess, so,”
“Yes,” you raise you’re hand to high-five the girl. You feel like a complete dork, when she doesn’t immediately respond. You try to subtly lower your hand, but she grins and slaps it. You feel a tingle, but it’s only your hand.
One, two, three, twirl. One, two, three, twirl. God, you are so fucking bored. You grab onto the counter and gently rock, counting aloud this time.
“One, two, three.” You push off, twirling in the chair.
A high laugh interrupts you mid-twirl. Blood rushes to your face as you plant your feet firmly on the ground. Blush? Did you just blush? You haven’t blushed since your first year on the streets.
You groan inwardly, it’s Daphne. You once thought Callie was a fluke, an experiment maybe. Sure she was cute, but not real feminine. Daphne, on the other hand, there’s no way she not.
Last night you dreamed of mocha skin, white teeth, and kinky hair. You never knew hair could be such a turn on.
“Having fun?” She grins.
“Loads.”
“What does Ben like? I need ideas for a gift for him.”
“Asian stuff, books, I dunno,”
“Um…” Her eyes shift about. “You wanna come with me?”
“Huh?”
“Shopping.” A red tint appears on brown skin, your heart beats faster. “For Ben’s present.”
“Uh, yeah, sure.” You stand up a bit to fast, and your vision blurs. “Michael, I’m going out,” you shout to the storeroom, where Michael is ‘going through the inventory,’ a.k.a. reading the latest issues.
“Hunter, you’re work-” You’re out the door before he finishes the sentence.
Daphne laughs softly. “Won’t he be mad?.” She smiles up at you.
“Meh, he’ll get over it.” You flash a grin at her.
She shakes her head, still smiling.
You find yourself laughing again. You don’t think you’ve ever laughed so much in one day. You glance down at her, giving her your attention, as she finishes her anecdote. You aren’t really hearing the words though, your eyes are on her lips. There’s a smudge of raspberry ice cream on her chin, you want to kiss it away.
“…oh my God, you should’ve seen his face,” she bubbles, licking her dripping ice cream cone.
You focus your attention on the rivets of red liquid making their way down her hand. Her tongue scoops them up.
You turn away, before she realizes you’re staring, and finish off your chocolate cone. Looking down the street, you see her: Callie. The one who could’ve been your first real girlfriend.
“So, who’s the girl?” Daphne nudges you, munching on the last bits of her cone.
“Callie. We, uh, dated, then…” You trail off.
“HIV?”
“No.” You sigh. “She found out that I used to hustle.”
“What a bitch.” The bluntness of the statement makes you laugh slightly. “Want to get her back?.” Her eyes twinkle, and all you can do is nod as your heart speeds up.
Looping her arm around your waist, she starts laughing, angling her head up with a look of pure admiration. You comply with a casual arm slung over her petite frame. If only it was real.
Callie comes closer, when she’s just a few steps away, Daphne moves you closer to the wall of a store, leans against said wall, and tugs the collar of your shirt, forcing you down to her level.
In a blink, her lips are over yours, tip of her tongue against your lips, you taste the sweetness of ice cream, and underneath something akin to Chai. It’s intoxicating. Your mind closes off to the world, and all you feel is her warm lithe body against you, her raspberry and your chocolate mixing. Blood pulses in your veins. Her arms come up and for a second you fear they are there to push you away; instead, they grope to your neck forcing you closer.
Taking the obvious invitation, you snake fingers under the bottom of her shirt, brushing over her spine. She shudders against you.
Breathing heavily, you separate. Her tongue slides out, going over her lips, capturing more of your essence.
“My place.” Daphne’s eyes are dark and you know it’s not a question. Speechless again, you nod.
She unlocks the door with shaking fingers--hers aren’t the only ones. As soon as you both are in, you turn trapping her against the door, lips crashing now on hers. Once again mocha arms attach themselves to your neck, digging into your hair.
This time you slip her hands down to cup her firm ass. You lift her up, and her legs go around your waist. You’ve decided you’re addicted to her taste.
“Bed,” she gasps.
You carry her to bed, and lay her down. You hastily diverge yourself of clothing, and leaning over her, you take in her beauty.
You lift up her shirt, removing it in one fluid motion. Oh God, she’s not wearing a bra. Next her shorts, and panties. You bury your nose in between her breasts, smelling Vanilla-Cinnamon, you trail fingers up her sides, one of your hands coming to rest on one, kneading softly. Licking your lips, you slide your tongue down the other one.
Her breathing speeds up; she makes the sexiest noises ever. Catching you off guard, she flips you over. She rakes her nails over your chest, across already hard nipples, causing you to arch up.
Her fingers are in your hair again, bringing you up for another kiss. Her legs tighten about you. You leave her mouth, venturing down her chin to her neck. She throws her head back, as you suckle her throat.
Her teeth bite at your ears, as she whispers harshly, “Condom.”
“Shit,” you curse.
She rolls off the bed, running from the room. You’re confused, was that it? She returns, grinning with a condom in her teeth.
Never have you seen a sexier sight then Daphne sashaying into the room. She crawls over you, slipping the condom on to your leaking dick.
“I’m going to ride you.” Her voice caresses every part of you and you almost come
It’s soft and wet and it feels so good. She starts agonizingly slow. You feel your orgasm rise and it’s too much. Catching her arms, you push them to the bed, rolling her over--taking the lead and diving into her. All the matters now is release: yours and hers. Her nails mar your back, but it doesn’t matter. Pain and pleasure blending perfectly, into something surreal.
She’s lying on her stomach, head turned towards you, sharing a cigarette and the occasional kiss.
“God damn, that was good.”
“You weren’t so bad yourself.” You don’t feel as awkward around her now.
She brings her lips to yours, giving you a hint of tongue. What a tease.
You growl, rolling her onto her back, you proceed to give her a real kiss. Your hands comb through her curls. Damn, her hair is such a turn on. She lifts her hips, bumping your cock. You stifle a groan.
“Condom?” You don’t want a repeat of last time.
She smirks, her hand reaches down on to the floor. Daphne waves it in your face. “I grabbed some extra from Justin’s stash.
“You stole a gay man’s condoms?”
She nods.
“That was very naughty of you,” you whisper in what you hope is a husky voice.
“Better teach me to behave.”
You slip into your bed hours later. Daphne and you are going to get Justin’s present tomorrow. You can’t wait. You close your eyes and see laughing eyes, soft breasts and hear a singing laugh. And you know this isn’t a fluke.
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: QAF
Pairing: Hunter/Daphne
You answer the door sans pants, as per usual. Too much time living on the streets has made new clothes uncomfortable. You miss your clothes; the ones before Michael and Ben. One day you’d woken up and discovered everything of your past, clothes-wise, was gone. And in their place lay stiff pants and itchy shirts. Of course, you didn’t complain. No matter how much you gripe, you know you’re lucky. And even though you’ll never admit it, Ben’s growing on you, as well as Michael. You still can’t figure out how Michael got so lucky.
“Who the fuck are you?” you demand.
Your nakedness doesn’t shake her.
“Ah, Hunter, right?”
“Yeah,”
Michael sticks his head out of the kitchen, yelling, “Who’s there?”
You look over your shoulder and holler, “Some chick.”
“Hunter, I fucking swear, you better have some Goddamn pants on.”
The girl grins and rolls her eyes. “Please, I go to The Loft all the time,” she maneuvers around you not missing a beat. “If I had a dollar for every time Brian answered the door in all his glory,” she sighs, and winks at you. You can’t help but feel a pain of envy. “I wouldn’t be living off ramen.”
“Daphne?” Michael, wiping his hands on his jeans, joins us. “What are…” His eyes land on you. “Jesus, Hunter, put some fucking pants on.”
Rotating your eyes upward, you mutter darkly but go in search of some pants. It’s not like you can’t hear everything that happens in your home anyways. You pause--your home, it’s not the first time you’ve thought it, but for some reason, it still brings a smile to your lips. Maybe one day you’ll actually say it aloud. But for now, it’ll stay where it’s been.
“Yeah, sorry, anyway, why are you here?”
You chuckle softly; subtle-bility is not the word to describe your “mom.” Is that even a word? It is now. Spotting some cargo pants, you pluck them off the floor, sniff them and deem them clean enough.
“I need your help.” She pops her knuckles.
“Okay.”
“Well, see, ya know how Justin and Ben’s birthdays are the same day…?”
You wander back out.
“…I was thinking that we could throw a surprise party for them.” The light hits her teeth and for a second you’re mesmerized by her smile.
“I don’t know…” Michael hesitates. “Last surprise party didn’t go over so well.” He doesn’t elaborate and again you’re reminded that there was a time before you were here.
“Please,” she pleads. “I know how Brian feels about birthdays, I really want to make this day special for Justin.”
“What are you talking about? Brian’s never felt any animosity,” You have to bite your lip to stop from laughing, Michael and his word-a-day calendars. “towards birthdays, ‘cept his own. Like for my 30th he invited everyone, it was crazy, he got me the coolest gift,” Michael sighed, “Captain Astro #1.”
“What a freak.” You shake your head. Daphne catches your eye, smirks and nods in agreement.
“Come on, Michael, it’s just that,” she nibbles her lip, “Justin hasn’t had a proper birthday since before he came out.” She closes her mouth, also not elaborating, but you understand/ Obviously, she and Justin are close.
“Yeah, seriously, d-a-a-d,” you add an extra three syllables, making “dad” sound half-sarcastic and half-whine, you could be Michael and Brian’s kid. But then you’d have, like, a reverse-gay Oedipus Complex, which would just be nasty.
“Well, I guess, so,”
“Yes,” you raise you’re hand to high-five the girl. You feel like a complete dork, when she doesn’t immediately respond. You try to subtly lower your hand, but she grins and slaps it. You feel a tingle, but it’s only your hand.
One, two, three, twirl. One, two, three, twirl. God, you are so fucking bored. You grab onto the counter and gently rock, counting aloud this time.
“One, two, three.” You push off, twirling in the chair.
A high laugh interrupts you mid-twirl. Blood rushes to your face as you plant your feet firmly on the ground. Blush? Did you just blush? You haven’t blushed since your first year on the streets.
You groan inwardly, it’s Daphne. You once thought Callie was a fluke, an experiment maybe. Sure she was cute, but not real feminine. Daphne, on the other hand, there’s no way she not.
Last night you dreamed of mocha skin, white teeth, and kinky hair. You never knew hair could be such a turn on.
“Having fun?” She grins.
“Loads.”
“What does Ben like? I need ideas for a gift for him.”
“Asian stuff, books, I dunno,”
“Um…” Her eyes shift about. “You wanna come with me?”
“Huh?”
“Shopping.” A red tint appears on brown skin, your heart beats faster. “For Ben’s present.”
“Uh, yeah, sure.” You stand up a bit to fast, and your vision blurs. “Michael, I’m going out,” you shout to the storeroom, where Michael is ‘going through the inventory,’ a.k.a. reading the latest issues.
“Hunter, you’re work-” You’re out the door before he finishes the sentence.
Daphne laughs softly. “Won’t he be mad?.” She smiles up at you.
“Meh, he’ll get over it.” You flash a grin at her.
She shakes her head, still smiling.
You find yourself laughing again. You don’t think you’ve ever laughed so much in one day. You glance down at her, giving her your attention, as she finishes her anecdote. You aren’t really hearing the words though, your eyes are on her lips. There’s a smudge of raspberry ice cream on her chin, you want to kiss it away.
“…oh my God, you should’ve seen his face,” she bubbles, licking her dripping ice cream cone.
You focus your attention on the rivets of red liquid making their way down her hand. Her tongue scoops them up.
You turn away, before she realizes you’re staring, and finish off your chocolate cone. Looking down the street, you see her: Callie. The one who could’ve been your first real girlfriend.
“So, who’s the girl?” Daphne nudges you, munching on the last bits of her cone.
“Callie. We, uh, dated, then…” You trail off.
“HIV?”
“No.” You sigh. “She found out that I used to hustle.”
“What a bitch.” The bluntness of the statement makes you laugh slightly. “Want to get her back?.” Her eyes twinkle, and all you can do is nod as your heart speeds up.
Looping her arm around your waist, she starts laughing, angling her head up with a look of pure admiration. You comply with a casual arm slung over her petite frame. If only it was real.
Callie comes closer, when she’s just a few steps away, Daphne moves you closer to the wall of a store, leans against said wall, and tugs the collar of your shirt, forcing you down to her level.
In a blink, her lips are over yours, tip of her tongue against your lips, you taste the sweetness of ice cream, and underneath something akin to Chai. It’s intoxicating. Your mind closes off to the world, and all you feel is her warm lithe body against you, her raspberry and your chocolate mixing. Blood pulses in your veins. Her arms come up and for a second you fear they are there to push you away; instead, they grope to your neck forcing you closer.
Taking the obvious invitation, you snake fingers under the bottom of her shirt, brushing over her spine. She shudders against you.
Breathing heavily, you separate. Her tongue slides out, going over her lips, capturing more of your essence.
“My place.” Daphne’s eyes are dark and you know it’s not a question. Speechless again, you nod.
She unlocks the door with shaking fingers--hers aren’t the only ones. As soon as you both are in, you turn trapping her against the door, lips crashing now on hers. Once again mocha arms attach themselves to your neck, digging into your hair.
This time you slip her hands down to cup her firm ass. You lift her up, and her legs go around your waist. You’ve decided you’re addicted to her taste.
“Bed,” she gasps.
You carry her to bed, and lay her down. You hastily diverge yourself of clothing, and leaning over her, you take in her beauty.
You lift up her shirt, removing it in one fluid motion. Oh God, she’s not wearing a bra. Next her shorts, and panties. You bury your nose in between her breasts, smelling Vanilla-Cinnamon, you trail fingers up her sides, one of your hands coming to rest on one, kneading softly. Licking your lips, you slide your tongue down the other one.
Her breathing speeds up; she makes the sexiest noises ever. Catching you off guard, she flips you over. She rakes her nails over your chest, across already hard nipples, causing you to arch up.
Her fingers are in your hair again, bringing you up for another kiss. Her legs tighten about you. You leave her mouth, venturing down her chin to her neck. She throws her head back, as you suckle her throat.
Her teeth bite at your ears, as she whispers harshly, “Condom.”
“Shit,” you curse.
She rolls off the bed, running from the room. You’re confused, was that it? She returns, grinning with a condom in her teeth.
Never have you seen a sexier sight then Daphne sashaying into the room. She crawls over you, slipping the condom on to your leaking dick.
“I’m going to ride you.” Her voice caresses every part of you and you almost come
It’s soft and wet and it feels so good. She starts agonizingly slow. You feel your orgasm rise and it’s too much. Catching her arms, you push them to the bed, rolling her over--taking the lead and diving into her. All the matters now is release: yours and hers. Her nails mar your back, but it doesn’t matter. Pain and pleasure blending perfectly, into something surreal.
She’s lying on her stomach, head turned towards you, sharing a cigarette and the occasional kiss.
“God damn, that was good.”
“You weren’t so bad yourself.” You don’t feel as awkward around her now.
She brings her lips to yours, giving you a hint of tongue. What a tease.
You growl, rolling her onto her back, you proceed to give her a real kiss. Your hands comb through her curls. Damn, her hair is such a turn on. She lifts her hips, bumping your cock. You stifle a groan.
“Condom?” You don’t want a repeat of last time.
She smirks, her hand reaches down on to the floor. Daphne waves it in your face. “I grabbed some extra from Justin’s stash.
“You stole a gay man’s condoms?”
She nods.
“That was very naughty of you,” you whisper in what you hope is a husky voice.
“Better teach me to behave.”
You slip into your bed hours later. Daphne and you are going to get Justin’s present tomorrow. You can’t wait. You close your eyes and see laughing eyes, soft breasts and hear a singing laugh. And you know this isn’t a fluke.