Request Drabbles and Challenges Post Nine

Oct 16, 2006 07:26

I really need to write more smut in this thing.

As Cold As Ice (1/?)
Theme: Theme Number 32. Night
Rating: PG for homosexual themes (yaoi), suggestive language and sexual situations
Pairing: Well, they're two characters. -blinks-
BGM: Hands Clean by Alanis Morisette (how fitting)
Notes: I'm on crack. I don't know what's gotten into me.



He could never really tell what gotten into them that night. So, he owed him for some serious dry cleaning for ruining his coat. But it wasn't his fault. It was raining and he was walking on the street like he owned it. Then again, he probably did. Not that it made him anymore threatening. Though he had a feeling that he should've felt intimidated at the very least because everyone else is terrified of this man. After all, He was a man who had so much power and who could probably own anything with the snap of his fingers. But it didn't make a difference to him. He was stupid for roaming around aimlessly in the middle of the road where a smart man like him should be aware that he could be hit by a car at any given moment.

But it did look like he had a lot on his mind. Just like him.

Two men, two worlds apart. That's who they were. They had two different practices and had different circles of people to associate themselves with. Though this was true, he found that they shared a few things in common. For one thing, they were both successful and not a day goes by that their names don’t appear in the periodicals and newspapers. Their moves are watched by the public, him by his fans and him by his competitors and investors. That was pretty much expected and they’d come to accept the lifestyle, It was all part of the grind and it was all part of work. Both of them knew how the ropes worked. They did their jobs efficiently, as well as they possibly could - and it has never failed. They both hated it when people and other random nuisances got in their way. It would waste their time and they hated it when that happened. They didn’t have a lot of it to spare personally, much less to things that were absolutely of no use. They weren’t much of people persons either, that was pretty much obvious - though at least he had managed to maintain a certain kind of playful charm - because apparently, it really did help and it was really needed in his line of work. The other one, on the other hand - had a reputation to keep. But he figured that a guy like him didn’t have a hard time, keeping that cold, hard and calculating exterior. Something told him, that it wasn’t all an act - that it was purely him to the very core of his being. But he could’ve been wrong; they hadn’t known each other for that long after all.

Approximately a night, actually.

Back at his house, for unknown reason - he’d offered that he could dry up there and they’d discuss payment bills for dry cleaning a bit later. He gave him a cup of coffee and half the time, his attention stayed glued to the window view that he had in his living room. Not that he was complaining, it was nice to have a quiet guest that didn’t talk him up even if he didn’t feel like it. After all, he was the one who offered for him to stay a while wasn’t he? That didn’t make him uninvited. The funny thing was, they didn’t have much of a conversation at first and it seemed to be more of throwing insults and sarcasm at each other more than anything. They knew that after this, they would want nothing to do with each other - that they would never see each other again. It was an encounter headed to the dogs from the very beginning. He couldn’t wait to get this over with and watch him walk out of his house and preferably his life.

But something just had to happen first.

They said tension is something that is enough to trigger the smallest things. Sometimes it elevates things into full-fledged fights, sometimes hang-ups and break-ups, sometimes sex - maybe it was an excuse he could use to try and justify what ended up happening between them, half a cup of coffee later. Maybe if that was enough of a reason, he didn’t have to kick himself in the head the morning after. There he was, sitting up and leaning on the headboard of his bed - lighting a cigarette, and beside him - he lay there with his back turned. No, he didn’t seem like the ‘let’s sit down and talk about this’ kind of guy. It even seemed like he shook it off rather easily. Was he asleep? He didn’t know. Maybe he was pretending to be asleep to avoid any sort of unnecessary conversation.

He scowled, his brows meeting as he watched him momentarily before turning to the window. The bedside that he was lying down on, the faint smell left on from a few days ago, the smell of strawberries and cream was now gone as a different scent overpowered it, a strong scent, the kind that makes your skin feel cold if it clings onto you. It was because he was lying there, smelling of that, intoxicating and yet sickening. He didn’t bother trying to get rid of him. He’d do that himself in a few hours; he would get up and get dressed, not bothering to explain himself, pretending that it never happened. Maybe he’d bitch about his coat and demand for the check for the dry cleaning. Then again, knowing that he can afford lousy dry cleaning bills with his kind of status, he’d probably just forget it and go. He didn’t have a problem with that sort of thing. He was going to do the same in the morning.

Successful assholes or not, they were still people - people have needs. It was a cold night, perhaps they were just lonely and even if that were the reason, it wasn’t like they’d ever admit it anyway.

-shrugs- I just write man, I'm only a vessel.




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