[WARNINGS]WARNINGS for discussion of domestic and sexual abuse. Also for fictional depiction of evil James Lundie. No insinuation about the real man is intended
Fic: Fragments of a reconstruction 12/?
anonymous
June 21 2013, 19:27:19 UTC
Naturally, David reads exactly the wrong thing into his silence. "Of course I realise it's a personal matter, and it's not something you're obliged to discuss with me. It's ... good to hear from you though."
"Always. And I wasn't keeping it private, really. Just ambivalent about the whole Christmas thing and trying not to dwell on it."
"Oh, I see." David doesn't sound as though he does, but then, why would he? You have to have something worth losing before you can grieve it. "Are you staying with Miriam?"
Does he sound jealous? Nick can't tell. Many would be.
"No, I have a hotel room. It's ... well, it's far too soon to share a house with her yet."
"You're spending Christmas in a hotel," David says in a tone of voice more usually induced by the policies of Theresa May.
Oh ... dear. "I have plenty of work to do, and some decent bottles of the local red. It's absolutely fine
( ... )
Fic: Fragments of a reconstruction 13/?
anonymous
June 21 2013, 19:30:30 UTC
"Yes?" Jeff listens with no more than grunts as David explains the situation. "What flight? ... Hmm ... For how long?" He frowns. "Can be done, with care--but only if you're not going to leave him outside in the cold and at risk this time
( ... )
Fic: Fragments of a reconstruction 15/?
anonymous
June 21 2013, 19:38:04 UTC
A/N: in the spirit of 'this is an AU anyway', let us assume for an instant that the Spanish police didn't modernise their uniforms in 2011 to something practical and rather dowdy-looking.
For the record, AA may or may not have had their own unfortunate encounter with the Spanish Police and may or may not be drawing on personal experience in some respects.The rain lashes against his windscreen in loud, splashy gusts, as yet another car beeps and flashes its lights at him
( ... )
Fic: Fragments of a reconstruction 17/?
anonymous
June 21 2013, 19:40:34 UTC
By the time David reaches Olmedo, he's feeling and probably looking, remarkably ruffled.
It's after midnight. He's driven for thirteen hours, been incomprehensibly berated by a Spanish police officer (not fined, thank heavens, but his name and licence number are written down in the man's little notebook, which is potentially just as bad.) and almost defeated by a pitifully small amount of rain. (It's not a surprise to him that Spanish speed limits can change in the rain, but the signs were not at all intuitive, if you didn't speak the language. Miriam even had to spell it for him.) He's also spent the last twenty minutes getting lost in Olmedo, as his destination appeared to have changed three hours after he set out, to somewhere not readily apparent on his map
( ... )
Fic: Fragments of a reconstruction 19/?
anonymous
June 21 2013, 19:46:37 UTC
Nick normally delights in touching David's hair while he sucks him, ruffling and tangling it to destroy all appearance of David's customary severity. Tonight, he hasn't the heart. David's chosen his neatness, and perhaps it's not Nick's place to take that away? (He's combed his hair seconds before bed, with nobody to see it but Nick and his duvet. That must mean something, even if it's just decades-long force of habit. It makes David comfortableIt's an unsettling and a tantalising thought, both at once. Tonight, with David's lips and tongue touching him in intimate places, he refrains, and restricts himself to stroking it smooth, touching the sides of David's face instead, to run his fingers over the taut skin of his cheeks, stretched by his wide-open jaw
( ... )
Fic: Fragments of a reconstruction 20/?
anonymous
June 21 2013, 19:48:23 UTC
"I can't believe I'm still wearing my bloody trousers," Nick says a little later. "You were going to help with my shoelaces. Was that all false pretences
( ... )
Fic: Fragments of a reconstruction 21/?
anonymous
June 21 2013, 19:52:35 UTC
"We can't have that," Nick says, and then rethinks. "Well. Not that it isn't a hell if a compliment, and not that I wouldn't really enjoy watching you do it."
"Not helping." A vein is standing out in David's forehead.
"Or you could go for it. Let me see you lose control."
"If ... you want to see that." David looks wary, and then incredulous.
"I do. Really." Really really. he wants to see everything David will show him; wants to try everything he might feel comfortable doing. It often bewildered Nick that more people don't feel that way about their lovers. But that's their right, he knows. Nobody in their right mind would tell others how to love
( ... )
Re: Fic: Fragments of a reconstruction 21/?
anonymous
June 22 2013, 07:57:32 UTC
Great to see more of this. I have to admit, I sniggered a bit about David's ignorance of local traffic regulations, resulting in him having to be extracted from his predicament by Miriam.
Credit also for the hot sex, and the careful interactions between Nick and David.
Happy to see more of Miriam, and the security team at some point ....
Re: Fic: Fragments of a reconstruction 21/?
anonymous
June 26 2013, 16:13:03 UTC
Why would you apologise for Miriam and the guards having time in the next chapters? I for one am very interested in why the two protection officers had different reactions. (But poor David must have been mortified when he kissed Nick like that! D:) Also, the entrance of Miriam into this story intrigues me as well.
I don't want to say your writing is predictable (or that I can see the future) but I'm wondering if I can predict certain things happening in this story. Hope you keep us guessing, AA! :D
Fic: Fragments of a reconstruction 22/?
anonymous
September 29 2013, 22:45:17 UTC
Fuck, is Nick's first thought when he wakes up the following morning. Why the fuck did I--?
Like so many thoughts, it hangs unfinished. He feels (deeply, painfully) as though he's been unfaithful. He's not even sure to whom, and he knows, he knows that there is nothing in the world wrong with loving David, or Miriam ( oh Miriam!) or his kids, or all of them, the way he does.
Stupid. You know better than that.
Nick sits up, grimacing at the hour on the alarm clock, and the fact that Spain or no, the bedroom is cold. The only light behind the thin curtains is the yellowish glow of street lights.
David is asleep on his side, half-turned towards Nick, one hand curled under his chin. His hair is brilliantly awry, and Nick feels abruptly ashamed of his guilt.
It must have taken trust, on David's part, to get back on the horse, so to speak. Trust and, and love or desire, in whatever form David lets himself feel it. Precious things, and yet here he is--
No, Nick tells himself. There is absolutely no point in feeling guilty over
( ... )
Will probably be lengthy (again).
[WARNINGS]WARNINGS for discussion of domestic and sexual abuse. Also for fictional depiction of evil James Lundie. No insinuation about the real man is intended
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"Always. And I wasn't keeping it private, really. Just ambivalent about the whole Christmas thing and trying not to dwell on it."
"Oh, I see." David doesn't sound as though he does, but then, why would he? You have to have something worth losing before you can grieve it. "Are you staying with Miriam?"
Does he sound jealous? Nick can't tell. Many would be.
"No, I have a hotel room. It's ... well, it's far too soon to share a house with her yet."
"You're spending Christmas in a hotel," David says in a tone of voice more usually induced by the policies of Theresa May.
Oh ... dear. "I have plenty of work to do, and some decent bottles of the local red. It's absolutely fine ( ... )
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For the record, AA may or may not have had their own unfortunate encounter with the Spanish Police and may or may not be drawing on personal experience in some respects.The rain lashes against his windscreen in loud, splashy gusts, as yet another car beeps and flashes its lights at him ( ... )
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It's after midnight. He's driven for thirteen hours, been incomprehensibly berated by a Spanish police officer (not fined, thank heavens, but his name and licence number are written down in the man's little notebook, which is potentially just as bad.) and almost defeated by a pitifully small amount of rain. (It's not a surprise to him that Spanish speed limits can change in the rain, but the signs were not at all intuitive, if you didn't speak the language. Miriam even had to spell it for him.) He's also spent the last twenty minutes getting lost in Olmedo, as his destination appeared to have changed three hours after he set out, to somewhere not readily apparent on his map ( ... )
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"Not helping." A vein is standing out in David's forehead.
"Or you could go for it. Let me see you lose control."
"If ... you want to see that." David looks wary, and then incredulous.
"I do. Really." Really really. he wants to see everything David will show him; wants to try everything he might feel comfortable doing. It often bewildered Nick that more people don't feel that way about their lovers. But that's their right, he knows. Nobody in their right mind would tell others how to love ( ... )
Reply
Credit also for the hot sex, and the careful interactions between Nick and David.
Happy to see more of Miriam, and the security team at some point ....
Reply
I don't want to say your writing is predictable (or that I can see the future) but I'm wondering if I can predict certain things happening in this story. Hope you keep us guessing, AA! :D
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Like so many thoughts, it hangs unfinished. He feels (deeply, painfully) as though he's been unfaithful. He's not even sure to whom, and he knows, he knows that there is nothing in the world wrong with loving David, or Miriam ( oh Miriam!) or his kids, or all of them, the way he does.
Stupid. You know better than that.
Nick sits up, grimacing at the hour on the alarm clock, and the fact that Spain or no, the bedroom is cold. The only light behind the thin curtains is the yellowish glow of street lights.
David is asleep on his side, half-turned towards Nick, one hand curled under his chin. His hair is brilliantly awry, and Nick feels abruptly ashamed of his guilt.
It must have taken trust, on David's part, to get back on the horse, so to speak. Trust and, and love or desire, in whatever form David lets himself feel it. Precious things, and yet here he is--
No, Nick tells himself. There is absolutely no point in feeling guilty over ( ... )
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