Precarious: Chapter II
Fanfiction: Precarious Chapter II
Fandom: Heaven's Call
Synopsis: It all started with the mistletoe that hung precariously over the doorframe. It led into the eggnog that spilled onto the floor of the kitchen. It ended between the sheets, a low groan, and the feeling that this was wrong... very wrong. Dangerously wrong. But temptation justified it that night to be right.
Genre: ....DRAMA
Rating: ...NC-17....>>
Warnings: o.o
Disclaimer: I don’t own them ;-; But I know who does and she’s so cool, I fail in her wake. If I did own them, I wouldn’t be writing Daemon/Theo stories for her, now would I?
Dedication: To the creator, designer, and God of Heaven’s Call’s characters, Schu no Ko.
Chapter Two: Slip
The water that Theo had hoped would cleanse him from any and every thought he had sloshed onto the floor.
“Daemon!”
Said warlock grunted, clothes soaked as Theo’s naked hips straddled his pants-clad waist. Silver hair draped forward as Theo pressed his hands around Daemon’s throat. Though his arms were taught, it was hard to see if he was straining from the force he exerted against the warlock or to keep himself at bay.
Calmly (or as calmly as one could be given his position in the bathtub), Daemon pointed his eyes upwards. “Yes?”
***
“Damn.” Theo muttered under his breath, pushing the flask away from him. He had promised Joey that he would never drink white lighting ever again and he could honestly say he wanted to part from it forever.
It took Theo two cups of white lightning to realize that, no matter how much you drink, your problems would still be there in the morning accompanied with a hangover. It took him three cups to realize that a drunken stupor can only truly occur when the drinker was willing to fall into the alcohol consumed.
It took him at least four to see that, indeed, he was drinking gasoline.
Joey had long gone to bed, curled up against the non-existent shape of Theo’s figure. After the party and the family discussions, the young Julyan had spent his time helping Morgan and Zak clean up before mumbling a ‘Good Night’ (with a kiss) and falling into bed.
And for the first time in his life, Theo could not get drunk.
Joey mumbled something in his sleep, arms reaching for something he couldn’t exactly grasp. For a moment, Theo almost walked over to him, slipping his hands into fine hair, resting his head on a forgiving shoulder.
But he didn’t. He couldn’t.
With that thought in mind, Theo grabbed his coat and left the room.
***
“I want you to -“
“You want me to what, Theo?” He met Daemon’s violent violet eyes that narrowed just a bit.
A slight hesitation; he tightened his thighs, ignoring the slight wave of pleasure that coursed through his hips.
“Mmm…” Theo curled his toes as Daemon’s hand slid up the side of his thigh and it took him a second to realize what was happening.
He tightened his hands around Daemon’s throat. “Stop it! I want you to stop it!”
“I can’t.”
Theo’s hands loosened the second before Daemon took advantage of his lips.
***
Leaving, he decided, bundling up a little closer to guard against the snow, was a stupid idea.
He swore as he slipped on another damn ice sheet. If this continued, he would have to blow something up.
And now I sound like Daemon.
Oh, he had heard about Pretzel Haus. Zak couldn’t tell him the story without laughing halfway through. Daemon bluntly told him the rest of it as Morgan consoled Zak. In retrospect, he did crack a smile or two. Or seven. He’d lost count in his quest to become anti-social, which he failed at miserably.
Of course, thinking about Daemon led him to thinking about killing things, which led to Zak’s fear of bees, which led to Becky, which led to thinking of himself as the godfather, which lead to Willow, which lead to the dismemberment of the mistletoe that occurred the second Daemon walked out the door, which lead to him thinking about Daemon in a very different light.
He shook his head. No.
And that’s all he usually needed.
He shivered once more as he trudged through the knee-deep snow. If he were lucky, he wouldn’t have to go back to Morgan’s Inn. Maybe he’d crash at some other hotel for the night.
“Welcome, traveler!”
He shrugged as he entered the inn, a half smile forming as he saw the bar.
***
A beat passed between them as they pulled away, allowing Theo to analyze the situation: I’m in a bathtub, completely naked, straddling the horror of my life.
This isn’t happening.
Yet it was, and that was the most disconcerting part of it all.
“Bastard…” He pulled his hand back, catching Daemon’s jaw with a closed hand.
Daemon caught it before it swung a second time and pushed him backwards in an attempt to throw him off. Water spilled over the edges again as they wrestled against each other, naked skin contacting wet cotton. No magic, just the barest, most raw form of fighting.
Theo sneered, chest heaving, as his bottom lip drew blood. His left leg had connected with Daemon’s chin and was now resting against the warlock’s shoulder. Daemon, meanwhile, had sustained a cut lip and a bruised chest. His shirt was ripped from collar to waistline. One hand had laced its way into Theo’s hair and tugged, forcing Theo’s neck and back to arch and rise.
The warlock watched as Theo moaned for a second as a well-placed clothed leg slipped into the right place. He caught Theo’s other leg as his knee rose to connect with his stomach for the second time in five minutes.
For a second the water stilled.
***
This isn’t happening.
Theo was starting to realize that his life was full of events that just shouldn’t be happening and another one was occurring.
“Drink it.”
“No.”
“Drink it.”
“…no.”
“It’s tradition.”
“I refuse to drink anything you give me. It might be poisoned.”
“So you can’t drink it?”
“I won’t drink it.”
Daemon finally shoved the cup under Theo’s nose in a last attempt. “It’s not poison. Besides, you like alcohol.”
“For the last time, Daemon, I don’t want your eggnog.”
Daemon sighed and leaned back in his chair. In the past two hours, Daemon had successfully ruined his romantic life and was now working on his mental state. And winning.
Theo stood at the counter, rummaging for his wallet. “Forgive me, I know I place it here.”
“Take your time.” The teller rested her arms on the counter, staring dreamily. Theo sweatdropped, but continued his search in his pants and coat pockets. He needed his money and fans were not on the agenda.
He sighed. “I think I-“
“Wizard.”
Theo froze.
Daemon strode behind him and raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Instead he turned to the teller. “What’s the problem?”
The teller began to drool.
“I forgot my wallet. It’s not important.” Theo turned to leave when Daemon’s hand grabbed his wrist.
The teller was foaming.
Daemon threw out a few coins. “I already have a room available.”
“Ah!” The poor girl snapped out of her reverie. “Last name?”
“Harpsbeak.”
Theo ripped his wrist out of Daemon’s hand and turned just as the teller grinning at both of them, her nose bleeding freely.
“Have fun in your room. Ah!” She blushed heavily. “I mean... well you know what I mean I mean…uh…”
She promptly fainted.
This wasn’t happening. This just wasn’t happening…
“It’s good eggnog.” He threw his head back, allowing his neck length black hair to fall back.
Theo was not a girl. He did not “swoon.” But if he was a girl, that’s what he would have labeled it. Probably.
“I need something stronger.” He shook his head, hair falling into his eyes.
Daemon looked at him from the corner of his eye, but said nothing once more.
Theo rolled his eyes and walked into the bathroom, taking care to lock the door behind him.
Three minutes later, the lock was broken.
***
The wizard’s abs tightened as he realized that once again, they were in a compromising position.
The words “Get off me!” crawled up his throat, but all that came out was a hoarse breath.
Daemon’s eyes widened. Had it been a different time, different setting, and Daemon had made the same expression, Theo would have considered it a victory. But it wasn’t.
The same violet eyes raked over Theo beneath him, just as beaten and bruised as he was.
***
Theo was careful to lock the door behind him as he entered the bathroom. It was embarrassing enough he was caught.
“Daemon…”
“You said you needed something stronger…”
***
“Daemon -“
A kiss silenced him completely.
Instinct and impulse alone pulled Daemon forward into the bath, lead by Theo’s arms as he deepened the kiss. He moaned as Daemon’s hands found themselves around the small of his back. More. More….
And then, the trigger fired. All he could see was rage.
The water that Theo had hoped would cleanse him from any and every thought he had sloshed onto the floor.
“Daemon!”
Said warlock grunted, clothes soaked as Theo’s naked hips straddled his pants-clad waist. Silver hair draped forward as Theo pressed his hands around Daemon’s throat. Though his arms were taught, it was hard to see if he was straining from the force he exerted against the warlock or to keep himself at bay.
Calmly (or as calmly as one could be given his position in the bathtub), Daemon pointed his eyes upwards. “Yes?”
***
Theo moaned as the water began to move again, ebbing and flowing between them, around them, beneath them.
Daemon’s fingers massaged against his chest, teasing his nipples, earning another moan from Theo’s parted lips. His toes curled once again to keep his hips from bucking forward.
“Fuck, Daemon.”
A hand slipped between Daemon’s legs and through the wet material of his clothing. He looked down to see Theo’s fingers slowly playing with him with a look that could only be categorized as feral.
The warlock shivered and slid the zipper of his pants down. He half smirked when Theo, with all of his conflicting emotions, tightened his thighs once again against Daemon’s hips.
He leaned over him and teased his length, running Theo’s against his own, and pressed his mouth to Theo’s ear.
“With pleasure.”
Fandom: Heaven's Call
Synopsis: It all started with the mistletoe that hung precariously over the doorframe. It led into the eggnog that spilled onto the floor of the kitchen. It ended between the sheets, a low groan, and the feeling that this was wrong... very wrong. Dangerously wrong. But temptation justified it that night to be right.
Genre: ....DRAMA
Rating: ...NC-17....>>
Warnings: o.o
Disclaimer: I don’t own them ;-; But I know who does and she’s so cool, I fail in her wake. If I did own them, I wouldn’t be writing Daemon/Theo stories for her, now would I?
Dedication: To the creator, designer, and God of Heaven’s Call’s characters, Schu no Ko.
Chapter Two: Slip
The water that Theo had hoped would cleanse him from any and every thought he had sloshed onto the floor.
“Daemon!”
Said warlock grunted, clothes soaked as Theo’s naked hips straddled his pants-clad waist. Silver hair draped forward as Theo pressed his hands around Daemon’s throat. Though his arms were taught, it was hard to see if he was straining from the force he exerted against the warlock or to keep himself at bay.
Calmly (or as calmly as one could be given his position in the bathtub), Daemon pointed his eyes upwards. “Yes?”
***
“Damn.” Theo muttered under his breath, pushing the flask away from him. He had promised Joey that he would never drink white lighting ever again and he could honestly say he wanted to part from it forever.
It took Theo two cups of white lightning to realize that, no matter how much you drink, your problems would still be there in the morning accompanied with a hangover. It took him three cups to realize that a drunken stupor can only truly occur when the drinker was willing to fall into the alcohol consumed.
It took him at least four to see that, indeed, he was drinking gasoline.
Joey had long gone to bed, curled up against the non-existent shape of Theo’s figure. After the party and the family discussions, the young Julyan had spent his time helping Morgan and Zak clean up before mumbling a ‘Good Night’ (with a kiss) and falling into bed.
And for the first time in his life, Theo could not get drunk.
Joey mumbled something in his sleep, arms reaching for something he couldn’t exactly grasp. For a moment, Theo almost walked over to him, slipping his hands into fine hair, resting his head on a forgiving shoulder.
But he didn’t. He couldn’t.
With that thought in mind, Theo grabbed his coat and left the room.
***
“I want you to -“
“You want me to what, Theo?” He met Daemon’s violent violet eyes that narrowed just a bit.
A slight hesitation; he tightened his thighs, ignoring the slight wave of pleasure that coursed through his hips.
“Mmm…” Theo curled his toes as Daemon’s hand slid up the side of his thigh and it took him a second to realize what was happening.
He tightened his hands around Daemon’s throat. “Stop it! I want you to stop it!”
“I can’t.”
Theo’s hands loosened the second before Daemon took advantage of his lips.
***
Leaving, he decided, bundling up a little closer to guard against the snow, was a stupid idea.
He swore as he slipped on another damn ice sheet. If this continued, he would have to blow something up.
And now I sound like Daemon.
Oh, he had heard about Pretzel Haus. Zak couldn’t tell him the story without laughing halfway through. Daemon bluntly told him the rest of it as Morgan consoled Zak. In retrospect, he did crack a smile or two. Or seven. He’d lost count in his quest to become anti-social, which he failed at miserably.
Of course, thinking about Daemon led him to thinking about killing things, which led to Zak’s fear of bees, which led to Becky, which led to thinking of himself as the godfather, which lead to Willow, which lead to the dismemberment of the mistletoe that occurred the second Daemon walked out the door, which lead to him thinking about Daemon in a very different light.
He shook his head. No.
And that’s all he usually needed.
He shivered once more as he trudged through the knee-deep snow. If he were lucky, he wouldn’t have to go back to Morgan’s Inn. Maybe he’d crash at some other hotel for the night.
“Welcome, traveler!”
He shrugged as he entered the inn, a half smile forming as he saw the bar.
***
A beat passed between them as they pulled away, allowing Theo to analyze the situation: I’m in a bathtub, completely naked, straddling the horror of my life.
This isn’t happening.
Yet it was, and that was the most disconcerting part of it all.
“Bastard…” He pulled his hand back, catching Daemon’s jaw with a closed hand.
Daemon caught it before it swung a second time and pushed him backwards in an attempt to throw him off. Water spilled over the edges again as they wrestled against each other, naked skin contacting wet cotton. No magic, just the barest, most raw form of fighting.
Theo sneered, chest heaving, as his bottom lip drew blood. His left leg had connected with Daemon’s chin and was now resting against the warlock’s shoulder. Daemon, meanwhile, had sustained a cut lip and a bruised chest. His shirt was ripped from collar to waistline. One hand had laced its way into Theo’s hair and tugged, forcing Theo’s neck and back to arch and rise.
The warlock watched as Theo moaned for a second as a well-placed clothed leg slipped into the right place. He caught Theo’s other leg as his knee rose to connect with his stomach for the second time in five minutes.
For a second the water stilled.
***
This isn’t happening.
Theo was starting to realize that his life was full of events that just shouldn’t be happening and another one was occurring.
“Drink it.”
“No.”
“Drink it.”
“…no.”
“It’s tradition.”
“I refuse to drink anything you give me. It might be poisoned.”
“So you can’t drink it?”
“I won’t drink it.”
Daemon finally shoved the cup under Theo’s nose in a last attempt. “It’s not poison. Besides, you like alcohol.”
“For the last time, Daemon, I don’t want your eggnog.”
Daemon sighed and leaned back in his chair. In the past two hours, Daemon had successfully ruined his romantic life and was now working on his mental state. And winning.
Theo stood at the counter, rummaging for his wallet. “Forgive me, I know I place it here.”
“Take your time.” The teller rested her arms on the counter, staring dreamily. Theo sweatdropped, but continued his search in his pants and coat pockets. He needed his money and fans were not on the agenda.
He sighed. “I think I-“
“Wizard.”
Theo froze.
Daemon strode behind him and raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Instead he turned to the teller. “What’s the problem?”
The teller began to drool.
“I forgot my wallet. It’s not important.” Theo turned to leave when Daemon’s hand grabbed his wrist.
The teller was foaming.
Daemon threw out a few coins. “I already have a room available.”
“Ah!” The poor girl snapped out of her reverie. “Last name?”
“Harpsbeak.”
Theo ripped his wrist out of Daemon’s hand and turned just as the teller grinning at both of them, her nose bleeding freely.
“Have fun in your room. Ah!” She blushed heavily. “I mean... well you know what I mean I mean…uh…”
She promptly fainted.
This wasn’t happening. This just wasn’t happening…
“It’s good eggnog.” He threw his head back, allowing his neck length black hair to fall back.
Theo was not a girl. He did not “swoon.” But if he was a girl, that’s what he would have labeled it. Probably.
“I need something stronger.” He shook his head, hair falling into his eyes.
Daemon looked at him from the corner of his eye, but said nothing once more.
Theo rolled his eyes and walked into the bathroom, taking care to lock the door behind him.
Three minutes later, the lock was broken.
***
The wizard’s abs tightened as he realized that once again, they were in a compromising position.
The words “Get off me!” crawled up his throat, but all that came out was a hoarse breath.
Daemon’s eyes widened. Had it been a different time, different setting, and Daemon had made the same expression, Theo would have considered it a victory. But it wasn’t.
The same violet eyes raked over Theo beneath him, just as beaten and bruised as he was.
***
Theo was careful to lock the door behind him as he entered the bathroom. It was embarrassing enough he was caught.
“Daemon…”
“You said you needed something stronger…”
***
“Daemon -“
A kiss silenced him completely.
Instinct and impulse alone pulled Daemon forward into the bath, lead by Theo’s arms as he deepened the kiss. He moaned as Daemon’s hands found themselves around the small of his back. More. More….
And then, the trigger fired. All he could see was rage.
The water that Theo had hoped would cleanse him from any and every thought he had sloshed onto the floor.
“Daemon!”
Said warlock grunted, clothes soaked as Theo’s naked hips straddled his pants-clad waist. Silver hair draped forward as Theo pressed his hands around Daemon’s throat. Though his arms were taught, it was hard to see if he was straining from the force he exerted against the warlock or to keep himself at bay.
Calmly (or as calmly as one could be given his position in the bathtub), Daemon pointed his eyes upwards. “Yes?”
***
Theo moaned as the water began to move again, ebbing and flowing between them, around them, beneath them.
Daemon’s fingers massaged against his chest, teasing his nipples, earning another moan from Theo’s parted lips. His toes curled once again to keep his hips from bucking forward.
“Fuck, Daemon.”
A hand slipped between Daemon’s legs and through the wet material of his clothing. He looked down to see Theo’s fingers slowly playing with him with a look that could only be categorized as feral.
The warlock shivered and slid the zipper of his pants down. He half smirked when Theo, with all of his conflicting emotions, tightened his thighs once again against Daemon’s hips.
He leaned over him and teased his length, running Theo’s against his own, and pressed his mouth to Theo’s ear.
“With pleasure.”