"hindsight" and "excels the quirks" [hard core logo and slings and arrows, respectively]
Title: hindsight
Author: sionnain
Fandom: Hard Core Logo
Pairing: Billy/Joe
Rating: Adult
Word Count: 300
Warnings: breathplay (not graphic).
AN: Thanks to inlovewithnight for the beta!
Hindsight
The first time Joe puts the belt around Billy's neck, Billy starts laughing.
"What the fuck are you doing?" he asks, voice fucked up from the whiskey and the show and too many cigarettes.
The thing about Billy is, he laughs at Joe a lot. And sometimes Joe likes it--he's fucking funny, a real god-damned riot--so that's good, Billy should laugh at his jokes, Joe's a goddamn hilarious bastard when he wants to be. It's just when he's trying to be fucking serious and Billy is just smirking at him with that sneer that hits Joe like a punch right to the gut--
Well, yeah. Joe gets fucking mad. Who wouldn't?
And when Joe's got Billy on his fucking knees, panting, skin dampened with sweat and hands fisted in the sandpaper-rough sheets of the shitty motel room they can't really afford--this is not the time when Joe wants to hear Billy laugh. It pricks against his skin and makes Joe think of needles, of veins, of things that burn you from the inside until there's nothing left but ashes.
"Shut the fuck up," Joe hisses, the smooth warm leather wrapped tight around his fist. As Joe fucks him he jerks the strap harder than he means to and Billy's neck snaps up, his eyes meeting Joe's. They're wide and glassy, and Joe thinks he sees something in broken in the shadows behind the blue. Billy's fingers scrabble at the leather like a noose around his neck, throwing them both off balance as Billy struggles.
Joe finally lets go and Billy sucks in air with a harsh, dragging gulp, so fucking desperate for it. There's something Joe likes about watching Billy's body heave violently beneath him, about being the thing that lets Billy breathe.
Title: excels the quirks
Author: sionnain
Fandom: slings and arrows
Pairing: Geoffrey/Darren (probably not very obvious!)
Rating: PG for language
Word Count: 300
AN: Thanks to inlovewithnight for the beta. The title is from Othello. This is set during 2X6, "Birnam Wood." Thanks to brynnmck for finding me caps to answer all-important wardrobe questions! <3
excels the quirks
Geoffrey's still miffed at having to fake loss-of-dignity to make Darren direct Romeo and Juliet as a play instead of some avant-garde fashion commercial, and he's got Macbeth and Henry to worry about, so he has no time whatsoever to deal with Darren inexplicably standing in the doorway of his office wearing nothing but a bathrobe.
"Just so you know, Geoffrey," Darren drawls, walking into his office in that way of his; all postured tenseness and effected languor. It makes him look like an unholy cross between Gumby and Pinocchio. Maybe Darren will get eaten by a whale.
Stranger things have happened.
Geoffrey's so caught up in this amusing-yet-horrifying Gumby/Pinnochio/Whale scenario that he's missed entirely what it is he's supposed to know. "Sorry?"
"I said, the Balkovski exercise went swimmingly. I thought you'd want to know." Darren leans against Geoffrey's desk, showing more thigh than is acceptable for a man at four in the afternoon. "You being the artistic director, ja?"
I don't have any fucking clue what you're talking about. "Great. Good job," Geoffrey says hurriedly, patting Darren on the shoulder. The fabric of Darren's robe is slick beneath Geoffrey's fingers. He has no idea what a Balkovski is or why Darren's saying artistic director in a way that sort of sounds like jackass, or why he's speaking German. All Geoffrey knows is that he kind of wants to strangle Darren with that fucking belt robe, or maybe with the--does the man have a matching necktie? Easy access, how convenient.
"Yes, well," Darren says, and turns away in a flutter of terrifying paisley silk.
Geoffrey is very tempted to sing So long, farewell as Darren leaves, just to butcher the phrase auf Wiedersehen.
Author: sionnain
Fandom: Hard Core Logo
Pairing: Billy/Joe
Rating: Adult
Word Count: 300
Warnings: breathplay (not graphic).
AN: Thanks to inlovewithnight for the beta!
Hindsight
The first time Joe puts the belt around Billy's neck, Billy starts laughing.
"What the fuck are you doing?" he asks, voice fucked up from the whiskey and the show and too many cigarettes.
The thing about Billy is, he laughs at Joe a lot. And sometimes Joe likes it--he's fucking funny, a real god-damned riot--so that's good, Billy should laugh at his jokes, Joe's a goddamn hilarious bastard when he wants to be. It's just when he's trying to be fucking serious and Billy is just smirking at him with that sneer that hits Joe like a punch right to the gut--
Well, yeah. Joe gets fucking mad. Who wouldn't?
And when Joe's got Billy on his fucking knees, panting, skin dampened with sweat and hands fisted in the sandpaper-rough sheets of the shitty motel room they can't really afford--this is not the time when Joe wants to hear Billy laugh. It pricks against his skin and makes Joe think of needles, of veins, of things that burn you from the inside until there's nothing left but ashes.
"Shut the fuck up," Joe hisses, the smooth warm leather wrapped tight around his fist. As Joe fucks him he jerks the strap harder than he means to and Billy's neck snaps up, his eyes meeting Joe's. They're wide and glassy, and Joe thinks he sees something in broken in the shadows behind the blue. Billy's fingers scrabble at the leather like a noose around his neck, throwing them both off balance as Billy struggles.
Joe finally lets go and Billy sucks in air with a harsh, dragging gulp, so fucking desperate for it. There's something Joe likes about watching Billy's body heave violently beneath him, about being the thing that lets Billy breathe.
Title: excels the quirks
Author: sionnain
Fandom: slings and arrows
Pairing: Geoffrey/Darren (probably not very obvious!)
Rating: PG for language
Word Count: 300
AN: Thanks to inlovewithnight for the beta. The title is from Othello. This is set during 2X6, "Birnam Wood." Thanks to brynnmck for finding me caps to answer all-important wardrobe questions! <3
excels the quirks
Geoffrey's still miffed at having to fake loss-of-dignity to make Darren direct Romeo and Juliet as a play instead of some avant-garde fashion commercial, and he's got Macbeth and Henry to worry about, so he has no time whatsoever to deal with Darren inexplicably standing in the doorway of his office wearing nothing but a bathrobe.
"Just so you know, Geoffrey," Darren drawls, walking into his office in that way of his; all postured tenseness and effected languor. It makes him look like an unholy cross between Gumby and Pinocchio. Maybe Darren will get eaten by a whale.
Stranger things have happened.
Geoffrey's so caught up in this amusing-yet-horrifying Gumby/Pinnochio/Whale scenario that he's missed entirely what it is he's supposed to know. "Sorry?"
"I said, the Balkovski exercise went swimmingly. I thought you'd want to know." Darren leans against Geoffrey's desk, showing more thigh than is acceptable for a man at four in the afternoon. "You being the artistic director, ja?"
I don't have any fucking clue what you're talking about. "Great. Good job," Geoffrey says hurriedly, patting Darren on the shoulder. The fabric of Darren's robe is slick beneath Geoffrey's fingers. He has no idea what a Balkovski is or why Darren's saying artistic director in a way that sort of sounds like jackass, or why he's speaking German. All Geoffrey knows is that he kind of wants to strangle Darren with that fucking belt robe, or maybe with the--does the man have a matching necktie? Easy access, how convenient.
"Yes, well," Darren says, and turns away in a flutter of terrifying paisley silk.
Geoffrey is very tempted to sing So long, farewell as Darren leaves, just to butcher the phrase auf Wiedersehen.