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rainbowfic2015-06-03 05:49 pm
novel_machinist) wrote in rainbowfic2015-06-03 05:49 pm
Literary / Octarine 1
Author: novel_machinist
Story: The Devil is a Gentleman
Theme: Literary / Octarine 1. It is almost impossible for anyone to be in a street without breaking the law.
Word Count: 902
Summary: The game's over, but now Alan's stuck either sleeping at Nick's place or... under a bar stool.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: AWKARD ALAN
Notes: Sorry for the spamming, but I have 21 of these prompts to finish! Rough draft of The Devil is a Gentleman continues. Any encouragement is appreciated. Questions and comments are also adored.
Alan was going to walk on his own. He didn’t want to be the guy falling all over someone simply because they were devastatingly handsome and seemed to exist for the sole purpose of reminding Alan how long it had been since he’d been with anyone. He distracted himself by focusing on the neighborhood. "Not the best part of town, kiddo."
"It's not the worst either. Got a nice sized place, no one bothers me." Nick held up a keycard to get into one of the more run down buildings. “Nothing will eat you, I’ll make sure of it.” He smirked again and pushed the door open for Alan.
He wasn't about to insult a place to sleep, considering he was really out in the cold otherwise. The floor was covered with worn, red carpet that reminded Alan of a 1930s style hotel or theater. The pattern played tricks with his head, so instead he focused on Nick, who was walking slowly ahead of him. "So what do you do?"
"I'm in acquisitions." Nick responded, opening an ancient looking service elevator. The accordion style grating made an ominous clicking sound
Alan's stomach lurched with the old elevator shaft. "No kidding? Me too, I work with land contracts mostly, what about you?”
"Personal loan contracts. Returns on contracts and the like." Nick watched the dial on the elevator slowly turn to numbers, it stopped on the thirteenth floor.
"Should get into work with the city, kid, prolly pays…this building has a thirteenth floor?"
Nick grunted softly, once again opening the heavy grating and door. He steered the conversation back to Alan. "You don't seem too fond of your job."
He was busy peering at the dial, perplexed that it showed a thirteenth floor at all. Most buildings didn't have them, superstition… or tradition, something to that effect. It was no wonder he was feeling haggard and upset, Nick just asked him about work. "I loathe my job with the fires of a thousand suns and my boss is the devil himself."
That earned a toothy grin. "Sounds like a wonderful field of work for me to get into." Nick pulled a key from his pocket and started down the hallway.
There weren't a lot of doors on this floor, Alan noticed. It seemed like most of them were broken or boarded up. A sudden chill coursed down his back and he sped up, keeping pace with Nick's long legs. "Damns, man, what is this place, haunted?"
"Sure is." Nick responded, opening his door.
Alan blinked at the other man for a few minutes and then started laughing. "Ha, I like you kid, good sense of humor."
Nick kicked his shoes off and shrugged. "Only when I'm joking."
Alan was in the middle of taking his own shoes off when a loud growling sound caught his attention. Startled, Alan lost his balance and his back made a thud against the wall. "What the fuck is that thing?" It was supposed to be a cat, that much was sure, but it was missing one eye, one ear, and it looked off. Its canine teeth could be seen over its lips and the things tail was much longer than its body.
"That's Scratch. Don't mind him, he's just mangy." Nick snapped his fingers and the creature – Alan wasn't going to call it a cat – jumped straight from the floor to Nick’s shoulders. It was a graceful move for such a monstrosity. "He's a good little guy, honest." Nick pet under Scratch’s chin.
Scratch chose to use the next moment to prove his ‘niceness’ by flattening his ears and flicking out what appeared to be a forked tongue and hissing. All in all, he looked like a cobra with legs.
"It looks like it wants to eat my soul."
"He won't." Nick said.
Alan was too engrossed in the apartment to notice the firmness in Nick’s tone. In its own side room from the living area was a library. Rows upon rows of dark wooden shelves stored a collection that was more impressive than some rural towns would boast. He could smell a fireplace someone in the area, but couldn’t see it. He lifted a hand to run along the spine of one of the books. From where he was standing it seemed to Alan that all of the books were obscure titles about language, folklore, all manner of mythology. He turned to Nick. “This is... pretty impressive.”
Nick looked over his collection for a moment. “I’m a bit of a folklorist I suppose. No degree or anything, just like to read.”
Scratch tried to leap from his shoulder, but Nick snatched the animal before it hit the floor. Its tail lashed about and it made an deep, angry yowl.
“Enough.” Nick warned.
The cat went silent.
“There’s food in the kitchen, you can make yourself at home.” Nick moved to the side and nodded to a kitchen area. “I’m going to go to bed.”
Alan nodded. He swallowed and almost let Nick disappear into the back of the apartment. “Ah...Nick?”
Nick stopped and turned. “Yes?”
The pause was almost uncomfortable and Alan cleared his throat. “Thanks again.”
“No problem.”
Alan waited till the door closed before he muttered “maybe we could get some coffee or something sometime...” He shook his head and pulled an odd title about angels off a shelf. “Smooth, Al... smooth.”
novel_machinistStory: The Devil is a Gentleman
Theme: Literary / Octarine 1. It is almost impossible for anyone to be in a street without breaking the law.
Word Count: 902
Summary: The game's over, but now Alan's stuck either sleeping at Nick's place or... under a bar stool.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: AWKARD ALAN
Notes: Sorry for the spamming, but I have 21 of these prompts to finish! Rough draft of The Devil is a Gentleman continues. Any encouragement is appreciated. Questions and comments are also adored.
Alan was going to walk on his own. He didn’t want to be the guy falling all over someone simply because they were devastatingly handsome and seemed to exist for the sole purpose of reminding Alan how long it had been since he’d been with anyone. He distracted himself by focusing on the neighborhood. "Not the best part of town, kiddo."
"It's not the worst either. Got a nice sized place, no one bothers me." Nick held up a keycard to get into one of the more run down buildings. “Nothing will eat you, I’ll make sure of it.” He smirked again and pushed the door open for Alan.
He wasn't about to insult a place to sleep, considering he was really out in the cold otherwise. The floor was covered with worn, red carpet that reminded Alan of a 1930s style hotel or theater. The pattern played tricks with his head, so instead he focused on Nick, who was walking slowly ahead of him. "So what do you do?"
"I'm in acquisitions." Nick responded, opening an ancient looking service elevator. The accordion style grating made an ominous clicking sound
Alan's stomach lurched with the old elevator shaft. "No kidding? Me too, I work with land contracts mostly, what about you?”
"Personal loan contracts. Returns on contracts and the like." Nick watched the dial on the elevator slowly turn to numbers, it stopped on the thirteenth floor.
"Should get into work with the city, kid, prolly pays…this building has a thirteenth floor?"
Nick grunted softly, once again opening the heavy grating and door. He steered the conversation back to Alan. "You don't seem too fond of your job."
He was busy peering at the dial, perplexed that it showed a thirteenth floor at all. Most buildings didn't have them, superstition… or tradition, something to that effect. It was no wonder he was feeling haggard and upset, Nick just asked him about work. "I loathe my job with the fires of a thousand suns and my boss is the devil himself."
That earned a toothy grin. "Sounds like a wonderful field of work for me to get into." Nick pulled a key from his pocket and started down the hallway.
There weren't a lot of doors on this floor, Alan noticed. It seemed like most of them were broken or boarded up. A sudden chill coursed down his back and he sped up, keeping pace with Nick's long legs. "Damns, man, what is this place, haunted?"
"Sure is." Nick responded, opening his door.
Alan blinked at the other man for a few minutes and then started laughing. "Ha, I like you kid, good sense of humor."
Nick kicked his shoes off and shrugged. "Only when I'm joking."
Alan was in the middle of taking his own shoes off when a loud growling sound caught his attention. Startled, Alan lost his balance and his back made a thud against the wall. "What the fuck is that thing?" It was supposed to be a cat, that much was sure, but it was missing one eye, one ear, and it looked off. Its canine teeth could be seen over its lips and the things tail was much longer than its body.
"That's Scratch. Don't mind him, he's just mangy." Nick snapped his fingers and the creature – Alan wasn't going to call it a cat – jumped straight from the floor to Nick’s shoulders. It was a graceful move for such a monstrosity. "He's a good little guy, honest." Nick pet under Scratch’s chin.
Scratch chose to use the next moment to prove his ‘niceness’ by flattening his ears and flicking out what appeared to be a forked tongue and hissing. All in all, he looked like a cobra with legs.
"It looks like it wants to eat my soul."
"He won't." Nick said.
Alan was too engrossed in the apartment to notice the firmness in Nick’s tone. In its own side room from the living area was a library. Rows upon rows of dark wooden shelves stored a collection that was more impressive than some rural towns would boast. He could smell a fireplace someone in the area, but couldn’t see it. He lifted a hand to run along the spine of one of the books. From where he was standing it seemed to Alan that all of the books were obscure titles about language, folklore, all manner of mythology. He turned to Nick. “This is... pretty impressive.”
Nick looked over his collection for a moment. “I’m a bit of a folklorist I suppose. No degree or anything, just like to read.”
Scratch tried to leap from his shoulder, but Nick snatched the animal before it hit the floor. Its tail lashed about and it made an deep, angry yowl.
“Enough.” Nick warned.
The cat went silent.
“There’s food in the kitchen, you can make yourself at home.” Nick moved to the side and nodded to a kitchen area. “I’m going to go to bed.”
Alan nodded. He swallowed and almost let Nick disappear into the back of the apartment. “Ah...Nick?”
Nick stopped and turned. “Yes?”
The pause was almost uncomfortable and Alan cleared his throat. “Thanks again.”
“No problem.”
Alan waited till the door closed before he muttered “maybe we could get some coffee or something sometime...” He shook his head and pulled an odd title about angels off a shelf. “Smooth, Al... smooth.”