Bobby: Orange
Title: Orange
Fandom: Bobby
Rating: Adult (for nudity)
Words: ~600
Characters: Cooper, Fisher
Summary: Cooper and Fisher share a little something.
Disclaimer: Nobody here is mine. Dammit.
Content Notes: None.
Author's Note: For
kink_bingo, "food" square. Thanks to
tsuki_no_bara for pom-pom shaking :D
Cooper doesn't remember taking his clothes off. He remembers, maybe, wanting for them to be off, wanting to be naked, wanting nothing but the air on his skin, but they vanished between one moment and the next like- like- like a poorly-cut scene change.
A scene change.
Cooper blinks and his eyes swim and refocus on a face, floating inches in front of him. He flinches and his head thumps against the wall.
"Careful, man."
Cooper peers at the... at his dealer, standing way too close but Cooper doesn't care about that, his eyes are caught on the light-dark-light pattern of the beads in the dealer's headband. "I don't think I know your name."
"You did yesterday. Fisher." He grins, and adds, "'Cause I'm a fisher of men, man."
Cooper rubs his palms against the wallpaper. He likes the feel of it, he walks his fingers across the ribbed texture and lets his hands stretch farther and farther out to either side. "That's blasphemy."
"Says the dude on a trip to find God."
He has a point.
On the other side of the room, Jimmy opens the closet doors and then shuts them, only to tug them back open. Cooper wants Fisher's hands on his face again, remembers the feel of Fisher's fingertips making warm prints along his jaw. He blinks, hopeful that another cut-scene-change will give him his wish, but instead Fisher holds up a segment of orange.
"You look hungry."
Cooper opens his mouth. The segment has been peeled and stripped of its pith, nothing left but a thin membrane to hold in the shining flesh, and when Cooper closes his lips around the end of it tiny explosions of flavor burst and fill his mouth, running down his throat. Fisher feeds it to him gradually, watching from behind his round-framed glasses and Cooper thinks that he should have Fisher's eyes.
When it's gone Fisher offers another, and Cooper opens his mouth again. The first bite fires his nerves like touching his tongue to a battery, which Cooper did once a long time ago when he was too young to know better, or maybe it was last month and he was high. His nose fills with the scent of citrus and the hair stands up along the back of his arms, stands up everywhere, in fact he thinks if he was a little less shitface-stoned, he would be sporting the most righteous boner in the history of boners. Part of him wonders what Fisher would do about that. The rest of him takes another bite and hums with delight.
The third segment isn't orange at all. It can't be, it's- he's eating light from Fisher's fingers and Jimmy might have found God in the closet but Cooper has a sun growing in his belly. If his clothes weren't long gone he thinks they might burn.
Fisher paints Cooper's lips with wet light and smiles. "That's better."
"Your eyes-"
"Keep yours. You need 'em." Fisher steps back and tips his head to the side. "The juice is mine, though," he adds.
Cooper nods agreeably, because it seems like the thing to do. "Okay, yeah. Yeah, the juice."
"I think your friend's got something to show you."
Cooper's got something to show Jimmy, too. He peels away from the wall and shadows dip and swoop around the room, chased into the corners by the light shining out of Cooper’s navel; Fisher's glasses are pools of reflected radiance. Cooper licks his lips and prickles with gooseflesh all over again, he is fed, he is charged, he is luminous.
He is going to show them all.
Fandom: Bobby
Rating: Adult (for nudity)
Words: ~600
Characters: Cooper, Fisher
Summary: Cooper and Fisher share a little something.
Disclaimer: Nobody here is mine. Dammit.
Content Notes: None.
Author's Note: For
kink_bingo, "food" square. Thanks to
tsuki_no_bara for pom-pom shaking :D
Cooper doesn't remember taking his clothes off. He remembers, maybe, wanting for them to be off, wanting to be naked, wanting nothing but the air on his skin, but they vanished between one moment and the next like- like- like a poorly-cut scene change.
A scene change.
Cooper blinks and his eyes swim and refocus on a face, floating inches in front of him. He flinches and his head thumps against the wall.
"Careful, man."
Cooper peers at the... at his dealer, standing way too close but Cooper doesn't care about that, his eyes are caught on the light-dark-light pattern of the beads in the dealer's headband. "I don't think I know your name."
"You did yesterday. Fisher." He grins, and adds, "'Cause I'm a fisher of men, man."
Cooper rubs his palms against the wallpaper. He likes the feel of it, he walks his fingers across the ribbed texture and lets his hands stretch farther and farther out to either side. "That's blasphemy."
"Says the dude on a trip to find God."
He has a point.
On the other side of the room, Jimmy opens the closet doors and then shuts them, only to tug them back open. Cooper wants Fisher's hands on his face again, remembers the feel of Fisher's fingertips making warm prints along his jaw. He blinks, hopeful that another cut-scene-change will give him his wish, but instead Fisher holds up a segment of orange.
"You look hungry."
Cooper opens his mouth. The segment has been peeled and stripped of its pith, nothing left but a thin membrane to hold in the shining flesh, and when Cooper closes his lips around the end of it tiny explosions of flavor burst and fill his mouth, running down his throat. Fisher feeds it to him gradually, watching from behind his round-framed glasses and Cooper thinks that he should have Fisher's eyes.
When it's gone Fisher offers another, and Cooper opens his mouth again. The first bite fires his nerves like touching his tongue to a battery, which Cooper did once a long time ago when he was too young to know better, or maybe it was last month and he was high. His nose fills with the scent of citrus and the hair stands up along the back of his arms, stands up everywhere, in fact he thinks if he was a little less shitface-stoned, he would be sporting the most righteous boner in the history of boners. Part of him wonders what Fisher would do about that. The rest of him takes another bite and hums with delight.
The third segment isn't orange at all. It can't be, it's- he's eating light from Fisher's fingers and Jimmy might have found God in the closet but Cooper has a sun growing in his belly. If his clothes weren't long gone he thinks they might burn.
Fisher paints Cooper's lips with wet light and smiles. "That's better."
"Your eyes-"
"Keep yours. You need 'em." Fisher steps back and tips his head to the side. "The juice is mine, though," he adds.
Cooper nods agreeably, because it seems like the thing to do. "Okay, yeah. Yeah, the juice."
"I think your friend's got something to show you."
Cooper's got something to show Jimmy, too. He peels away from the wall and shadows dip and swoop around the room, chased into the corners by the light shining out of Cooper’s navel; Fisher's glasses are pools of reflected radiance. Cooper licks his lips and prickles with gooseflesh all over again, he is fed, he is charged, he is luminous.
He is going to show them all.