fic: RPS: Ladies and Gents, Place Your Bets (1/1)
Title: Ladies and Gents, Place Your Bets
Author: Havenward
Pairing: Kane/Carlson (goth!boys au - though not strongly featured)
Rating: R (some sexuality, tattoo kink)
Words: 1007
Note: For orphan_project, because I was bribed. I like bribes, so there. :P The customer is an OFC... Ironic how that comes up not so long after the meme question about the male to female ratio...
Summary: Christian's latest customer at the tattoo parlor likes getting tattoos. Really likes getting tattoos. So the others take bets about how long she can last...
Christian ignores the rest of the shop. If he paid them any mind, he would end up distracted and Christ, what he’s doing is damn well distracting enough. It didn’t take long to figure out it was going to be one of those shifts. He might have guessed, if asked about it when the chick -Rhea- set up her appointment; they’ve always got a tell, and looking back, the way she shifted a little when she watched him sketch… yeah. Any hope of keeping it to himself was out the door when she came in wearing a loose t-shirt that stopped at her midriff, torn off jeans (which, seriously, barely still qualified as shorts instead of some bizarre new form of lingerie, and made her keychain and belt look more like jewelry), and black velvet boots up to her knees. Even Pauley was staring, though it maybe, maybe had more to do with the way her long black and scarlet hair was twisted up into buns.
And that was before she took her shirt off.
Pauley would probably still be staring if it hadn’t been for the fact that she had an appointment at the same time. With Rhea’s friend no less. Pauley smirked and stayed behind the counter only long enough to hiss, longer than my girl minimum.
That much is no contest. Rhea’s friend is getting words wrapped around her arm. It’s got it’s complications to be sure, but it’s got nothing on the wings he’s laying down on Rhea’s back. He isn’t surprised when Jason pulls up an extra chair once Chris has gotten started, raises his eyebrows at Pauley, and says, “Fifty for under half way.” Christian thinks he maybe shouldn’t be surprised that Rhea’s friend bets for over half.
“Just breathe, darlin’,” he murmurs, pausing long enough to wipe the excess away. It doesn’t help when he calls her that, and it sure as hell doesn’t help that she’s got an audience. Well. Depending on your definition of help anyway. She’s already trembling a little, knuckles going white in an effort to keep from tensing her back too much.
Mikey whistles, long and low, at the way she moans when the needle touches her skin again. Chris isn’t exactly sure when he wandered in from Rue Morgue, but he supposes it doesn’t matter. When Jason lost his bet to the girls, Mike made him a new one, which he’d be losing if she held on for another few minutes.
The bells over the door chime, but Christian doesn’t pause. He’s found a rhythm, now -which, contrary to Mikey’s loudly voiced opinion, has more to do with not screwing up the design than it has to do with winning anything. He’s vaguely aware of some conversation, of Ewan telling Mike that Jeff thought he’d be returning to work at some point, of new bets being laid. Chris feels Steve more than anything else, but he only smiles, flushing enough that Steve will know that he knows.
“What ‘appens if she, y’know… doesn’t?” Chris guesses that’s the new kid, Mike and Ewan’s friend from Britain.
“Kane gets the whole pot,” Mikey grouses.
Okay, so Christian might smirk a little on that point, but he doesn’t give Mike the benefit of seeing it. He’s too busy with the lines on Rhea’s back and the small abortive moves her hips are making. He pauses, making soothing noises, and debates letting her get off - it might relax her enough to make it the rest of this easier. On the other hand, the oversensitivity might only drive her higher, and god help them both if she would need to quiver that much harder. In the end he decides to stay the course, and begins working some of the shading in.
It spawns a new round of bets as she outlasts the last marker. Chris isn’t sure if he imagines the strangled sort of way Pauley and Rhea’s friend both put bets down as close to finished as house rules allow. He probably isn’t, with the way Ewan snickers, though he is starting to wonder if no other customers are coming in today. Rhea’s whimpering now, and Christian can see the tension in her thighs from the concerted effort not to move.
Chris is nearly done when he feels Steven’s breath against his ear. “Will you send her home needy?” Christian pauses to let her breathe again, to wipe away ink, and Steve puts a hand lightly on his shoulder, thumb caressing just below his collar. “Don’t think it’d be very nice. She’s held out so long after all…” He squeezes Chris’ shoulder as he moves away again.
“Fuck,” Rhea hisses, barely audible over the sound of the gun. Obviously she heard what Steven said, her breath already starting to go ragged and he hasn’t even put the needle to her skin again. Her hips shift a little, like she’s wanting contact, and she bites her lip to keep from whimpering again.
He has to pin her hips now to work, his steady grip the only thing keeping her still enough to finish. The moan bubbles up out of her as he does, but Christian doesn’t let up this time. He feels the way it’s building, can feel it when she gives in and openly moans, can feel the way her breath hitches from how close she is. But Chris holds her off just a little longer.
Just long enough to finish, to ensure that his last few marks are the ones that set her off. Rhea cries out wordlessly, her head falling forward. She shudders under Christian’s hold, her body rocking into the chair, and then sags, still shivering. Rhea gasps a little as he wipes her back down with rubbing alcohol.
In the silence Chris can hear the way several people adjust in their seats. Mikey clears his throat, and then Jason just laughs. “Man’s a fucking prodigy, I swear.”
Edited to mention: If you want an idea of what the tattoo looks like, it covers her back like this one but has feathers like this one.
Author: Havenward
Pairing: Kane/Carlson (goth!boys au - though not strongly featured)
Rating: R (some sexuality, tattoo kink)
Words: 1007
Note: For orphan_project, because I was bribed. I like bribes, so there. :P The customer is an OFC... Ironic how that comes up not so long after the meme question about the male to female ratio...
Summary: Christian's latest customer at the tattoo parlor likes getting tattoos. Really likes getting tattoos. So the others take bets about how long she can last...
Christian ignores the rest of the shop. If he paid them any mind, he would end up distracted and Christ, what he’s doing is damn well distracting enough. It didn’t take long to figure out it was going to be one of those shifts. He might have guessed, if asked about it when the chick -Rhea- set up her appointment; they’ve always got a tell, and looking back, the way she shifted a little when she watched him sketch… yeah. Any hope of keeping it to himself was out the door when she came in wearing a loose t-shirt that stopped at her midriff, torn off jeans (which, seriously, barely still qualified as shorts instead of some bizarre new form of lingerie, and made her keychain and belt look more like jewelry), and black velvet boots up to her knees. Even Pauley was staring, though it maybe, maybe had more to do with the way her long black and scarlet hair was twisted up into buns.
And that was before she took her shirt off.
Pauley would probably still be staring if it hadn’t been for the fact that she had an appointment at the same time. With Rhea’s friend no less. Pauley smirked and stayed behind the counter only long enough to hiss, longer than my girl minimum.
That much is no contest. Rhea’s friend is getting words wrapped around her arm. It’s got it’s complications to be sure, but it’s got nothing on the wings he’s laying down on Rhea’s back. He isn’t surprised when Jason pulls up an extra chair once Chris has gotten started, raises his eyebrows at Pauley, and says, “Fifty for under half way.” Christian thinks he maybe shouldn’t be surprised that Rhea’s friend bets for over half.
“Just breathe, darlin’,” he murmurs, pausing long enough to wipe the excess away. It doesn’t help when he calls her that, and it sure as hell doesn’t help that she’s got an audience. Well. Depending on your definition of help anyway. She’s already trembling a little, knuckles going white in an effort to keep from tensing her back too much.
Mikey whistles, long and low, at the way she moans when the needle touches her skin again. Chris isn’t exactly sure when he wandered in from Rue Morgue, but he supposes it doesn’t matter. When Jason lost his bet to the girls, Mike made him a new one, which he’d be losing if she held on for another few minutes.
The bells over the door chime, but Christian doesn’t pause. He’s found a rhythm, now -which, contrary to Mikey’s loudly voiced opinion, has more to do with not screwing up the design than it has to do with winning anything. He’s vaguely aware of some conversation, of Ewan telling Mike that Jeff thought he’d be returning to work at some point, of new bets being laid. Chris feels Steve more than anything else, but he only smiles, flushing enough that Steve will know that he knows.
“What ‘appens if she, y’know… doesn’t?” Chris guesses that’s the new kid, Mike and Ewan’s friend from Britain.
“Kane gets the whole pot,” Mikey grouses.
Okay, so Christian might smirk a little on that point, but he doesn’t give Mike the benefit of seeing it. He’s too busy with the lines on Rhea’s back and the small abortive moves her hips are making. He pauses, making soothing noises, and debates letting her get off - it might relax her enough to make it the rest of this easier. On the other hand, the oversensitivity might only drive her higher, and god help them both if she would need to quiver that much harder. In the end he decides to stay the course, and begins working some of the shading in.
It spawns a new round of bets as she outlasts the last marker. Chris isn’t sure if he imagines the strangled sort of way Pauley and Rhea’s friend both put bets down as close to finished as house rules allow. He probably isn’t, with the way Ewan snickers, though he is starting to wonder if no other customers are coming in today. Rhea’s whimpering now, and Christian can see the tension in her thighs from the concerted effort not to move.
Chris is nearly done when he feels Steven’s breath against his ear. “Will you send her home needy?” Christian pauses to let her breathe again, to wipe away ink, and Steve puts a hand lightly on his shoulder, thumb caressing just below his collar. “Don’t think it’d be very nice. She’s held out so long after all…” He squeezes Chris’ shoulder as he moves away again.
“Fuck,” Rhea hisses, barely audible over the sound of the gun. Obviously she heard what Steven said, her breath already starting to go ragged and he hasn’t even put the needle to her skin again. Her hips shift a little, like she’s wanting contact, and she bites her lip to keep from whimpering again.
He has to pin her hips now to work, his steady grip the only thing keeping her still enough to finish. The moan bubbles up out of her as he does, but Christian doesn’t let up this time. He feels the way it’s building, can feel it when she gives in and openly moans, can feel the way her breath hitches from how close she is. But Chris holds her off just a little longer.
Just long enough to finish, to ensure that his last few marks are the ones that set her off. Rhea cries out wordlessly, her head falling forward. She shudders under Christian’s hold, her body rocking into the chair, and then sags, still shivering. Rhea gasps a little as he wipes her back down with rubbing alcohol.
In the silence Chris can hear the way several people adjust in their seats. Mikey clears his throat, and then Jason just laughs. “Man’s a fucking prodigy, I swear.”
Edited to mention: If you want an idea of what the tattoo looks like, it covers her back like this one but has feathers like this one.
