ext_30140 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
imagechild.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
slashing_lorne2006-08-22 08:03 pm
imagechild.livejournal.com) wrote in slashing_lorne2006-08-22 08:03 pm
Entry tags:
Drabblething: Parrish/Lorne prompt: "Shattered"
drabble for the table. whee.
Pairing: Lorne/Parrish (part of the Big Damn Table)
Rating: NC-17
Prompt: "shattered"
Warnings: teeny tiny hints of non-con
notes: uh.....nothing to see here, move along.
unbetad, quick and dirty, per usual.
It's rougher than it should be--than it needs to be, really--but the body beneath him only arches closer, the voice only says his name in frantic little pants that speak less of pleasure and more of need and relief than anything else. He'd never meant for it to get like this--never meant to be the one waiting in a dark room that isn't his own--for a serviceman who's not his to hold and touch, not really. He hadn't meant to be the cliche'...the willing and insistent man who'd worn the closeted Marine down.
But it was his part, and he'd play it. He'd play the seducer, the promiscuous younger man. He'd take the blame when Lorne railed and ranted and stomped, pointing fingers that sometimes trembled with rage, other times with the absolute need to reach out and touch. He never lets himself, David always has to be first--but he's strong enough for that---and for this, pinning the Marine to the bed, bodies flexing against one another. He hadn't always been strong enough--but what fear and threats had failed to force him into before leaving Earth had been easily accomplished by the needy look in the Major's eyes. Hours in the training area, bruises and scrapes and odd looks from the other scientists, just so his body will do this for him, for Lorne.
The Marine growls and flexes beneath him, and David bends, whispers in the soft shell of one ear--two simple words, all that really need to be said. "let go"
And Lorne does, though he's quiet as always, his body screaming for him, muscles tensing and shivering, breath leaving his body in one long rush. He doesn't even give himself, or David the satisfaction of crying out his pleasure--but David doesn't need to hear it. He makes enough noise for the both of them as that hard, tight killer's body milks him. In silence, Lorne comes apart, shatters beneath him, and David fills the quiet room with his own loud cries of pleasure.
Pairing: Lorne/Parrish (part of the Big Damn Table)
Rating: NC-17
Prompt: "shattered"
Warnings: teeny tiny hints of non-con
notes: uh.....nothing to see here, move along.
unbetad, quick and dirty, per usual.
It's rougher than it should be--than it needs to be, really--but the body beneath him only arches closer, the voice only says his name in frantic little pants that speak less of pleasure and more of need and relief than anything else. He'd never meant for it to get like this--never meant to be the one waiting in a dark room that isn't his own--for a serviceman who's not his to hold and touch, not really. He hadn't meant to be the cliche'...the willing and insistent man who'd worn the closeted Marine down.
But it was his part, and he'd play it. He'd play the seducer, the promiscuous younger man. He'd take the blame when Lorne railed and ranted and stomped, pointing fingers that sometimes trembled with rage, other times with the absolute need to reach out and touch. He never lets himself, David always has to be first--but he's strong enough for that---and for this, pinning the Marine to the bed, bodies flexing against one another. He hadn't always been strong enough--but what fear and threats had failed to force him into before leaving Earth had been easily accomplished by the needy look in the Major's eyes. Hours in the training area, bruises and scrapes and odd looks from the other scientists, just so his body will do this for him, for Lorne.
The Marine growls and flexes beneath him, and David bends, whispers in the soft shell of one ear--two simple words, all that really need to be said. "let go"
And Lorne does, though he's quiet as always, his body screaming for him, muscles tensing and shivering, breath leaving his body in one long rush. He doesn't even give himself, or David the satisfaction of crying out his pleasure--but David doesn't need to hear it. He makes enough noise for the both of them as that hard, tight killer's body milks him. In silence, Lorne comes apart, shatters beneath him, and David fills the quiet room with his own loud cries of pleasure.
Hot...
(Anonymous) 2006-08-23 03:16 am (UTC)(link)Re: Hot...