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rainbowfic2015-06-08 11:23 pm
novel_machinist) wrote in rainbowfic2015-06-08 11:23 pm
Literary / Octarine 5 - The Devil is a Gentleman
Author: novel_machinist
Story: The Devil is a Gentleman
Theme: Literary / Octarine 5. He moved in a way that suggested he was attempting the world speed record for the nonchalant walk.
Word Count: 1407
Summary: Alan's not acting like himself this morning
Rating: R
Warnings: Implied masturbation
Notes: Rough draft of The Devil is a Gentleman continues. Any encouragement is appreciated. Questions and comments are also adored.
Alan awoke with a feeling of absolute dread and a raging hangover. There had been a time in his life where he could have drank till sunrise, slept for four hours then gone to work the next day. However, like his 20s, that time had gone more than a few years ago.
There was a heavy pressure on his chest. He gasped twice; it felt like the air was being pressed from his lungs. When Alan opened his eyes he saw Scratch, looming from where it sat on his chest. The creature’s one orange eye glared disapprovingly and its single ear twitched.
With a curse, Alan flailed and fell off of the couch to the floor. The book that he'd fallen asleep reading clunked beside him. Scratch leaped from the couch to sit on the book defensively. A low growl rumbled from the animal’s chest.
It was then that Alan realized that while he knew that he had read part of the book, he couldn't remember even the title of it. "Shoo, go on scat!" He reached for the book.
Scratch's growl rose in pitch, overlong claws raked at Nick's carpet.
Sudden fear coursed up Alan's chest. It was unexpected. He scrambled back and gained his feet. Alan looked wide eyed at Scratch, whose backside had yet to leave whatever that book was about. He could feel his heart flutter in his chest and his skin crawled. It didn’t help the pounding in his head from the hangover that Alan could feel growing in intensity.
He swallowed. "Nick?" When there wasn't an answer he chastised himself for being scared of a mangy pet cat but walked - the long way around - to what he assumed was Nick's bedroom. He knocked, though there wasn't a response.
After waiting a few moments Alan was beginning to think that Nick actually left him alone in the apartment. Either that or the young man slept like the dead. Nature came calling shortly after that thought and Alan made his way into the bathroom. When he was done, Alan walked out into the living room again. The floor was neat aside from the sheet and pillow that Alan had kicked to the floor when Scratch woke him.
Something felt out of place, but Alan's head hurt too much to give it more thought. He had the feeling that something was missing that should have been obvious. Alan began folding the sheet back up and picked the pillow up off the floor. He then moved to pick up something else automatically, but he couldn't remember what it was. There was nothing else on the floor. Motion out of the corner of his eyes drew his attention to Scratch, who was now perched on the window ledge.
He hated the feeling of being watched. Watched was the wrong word, in honesty. He felt like he was being surveyed. And immediately felt foolish for being so worked up over a cat. He was groggy and dehydrated, he needed coffee, maybe a shower. A little burbling sound echoed from the kitchen. There was coffee percolating, and it smelled heavenly.
He started to the kitchen. Something made him turn around a moment later to find the cat sitting a foot behind him. The tip of Scratch’s tail flicked back and forth.
"Oh stop with the creepy shit already!"
Scratch let out a sound that was eerily close to a "humph" noise and turned his bedraggled nose to the air.
“Don't give me that.” Was he seriously arguing with a cat? Alan made the same sound himself and then turned into the kitchen. He looked to check on Scratch again out of the corner of his eye, but the critter seemed to move at warp speeds and wasn't anywhere to be seen. While he was pouring himself a cup, he spied a note on the counter.
Had to run out, back in a while, if you leave, there is a key on the table, just slide it back under the door. Also, some people may stop by, nice meeting you.
There was no signature or anything else on the notebook page. Alan turned it over idly as he sipped his coffee. Part of him wanted to wait for Nick and try one more time to ask him to go out later. Another part of him - older and much more realistic - told him to leave now and save himself the embarrassment. His head throbbed again and Alan groaned. He really needed a shower.
Alan put the note down and looked about for a pen. Coffee cup still warming his hands, he wandered around and nearly crossed back out of the kitchen.
There was a sound from the counter, of someone clearing his throat. Alan turned towards it and wasn’t that shocked to see Scratch again.
When he turned Scratch was sitting on the coffee table; a pen sat in front of his gangly feet. "Thanks…" He could always write the note just before he left. After he took a sip of the coffee, Alan pressed further into Nick's domain, wondering about how the other man usually acted when he took time to himself.
Alan's mind wandered to pleasant images of Nick relaxing, his shirt pulling softly against the muscles of his chest, sleeves rolled up to… "What the hell am I doing?" Alan shook his head then and got up off of Nick's bed, lord only knew how he got there.
Feeling like a perverted old man, Alan finished his coffee and looked at the clock. "Oh shit." It was exactly twelve o' six in the afternoon; he'd never been this late to work before. Actually, he'd never even called into work before. Though his first instinct was to leave the apartment and rush to the office, he stopped short of the door and went to refill his coffee mug. Screw it; he'd missed four hours of work already.
Instead he finished a cup of coffee, wandered about Nick's room a few more times and finally ended up in the shower. It still smelled warm, soft like the way wine made him feel. The door closed behind him silently and thickly. His first instinct was to take a bath in the huge tub, but Alan opted for a shower instead, taking his clothes off, he let his toes feel the soft bath-mat before stepping into the shower and closing the curtain behind him.
He shuddered when the water hit him; it filled his lungs with that heady, wine-like smell. His hands drifted and his thoughts wandered back to that state of mind that Alan knew was improper. There was some stupid, youthful thrill in missing work for no reason other than to enjoy himself in an attractive man's shower. Alan wasn’t going to ignore it. The water didn't get cold, but he knew he'd been in there too long from the feel of his hands. His fingertips were swollen and soft. After rinsing he toweled off and picked his clothing back up. Something inside of him just wanted to crawl into Nick's black bed sheets and fall asleep again.
Zipping his pants, Alan left his shirt on the floor and walked back to finish up Nick's coffee. In the back of his mind, Alan knew that he should be going home. There had never been a time where Alan was exactly free and easy, however he would have asked Nick out had he been younger. He’d been more hopeful in college, playing cards, attending writing classes, and dreaming. He got old and never saw it coming.
He was lost in his thoughts until he felt a strange tingle up the base of his spine. Spinning he came face to face with Scratch, who he'd almost forgotten about. He jumped and nearly spilled the coffee down his bare chest. "Jesus!"
The cat tilted his head as if Alan’s reaction was completely uncalled for.
“You really need to stop that shit.” He downed the last bit of coffee before getting fully dressed. After he left the cup in the sink, Alan picked the pen off of the counter. After a moment of debate, left Nick a note of his own.
Sorry to crash at your place. Maybe I can get you dinner sometime to say thanks – Alan
He wrote his phone number down and quickly left out the front door before he could change his mind.
novel_machinistStory: The Devil is a Gentleman
Theme: Literary / Octarine 5. He moved in a way that suggested he was attempting the world speed record for the nonchalant walk.
Word Count: 1407
Summary: Alan's not acting like himself this morning
Rating: R
Warnings: Implied masturbation
Notes: Rough draft of The Devil is a Gentleman continues. Any encouragement is appreciated. Questions and comments are also adored.
Alan awoke with a feeling of absolute dread and a raging hangover. There had been a time in his life where he could have drank till sunrise, slept for four hours then gone to work the next day. However, like his 20s, that time had gone more than a few years ago.
There was a heavy pressure on his chest. He gasped twice; it felt like the air was being pressed from his lungs. When Alan opened his eyes he saw Scratch, looming from where it sat on his chest. The creature’s one orange eye glared disapprovingly and its single ear twitched.
With a curse, Alan flailed and fell off of the couch to the floor. The book that he'd fallen asleep reading clunked beside him. Scratch leaped from the couch to sit on the book defensively. A low growl rumbled from the animal’s chest.
It was then that Alan realized that while he knew that he had read part of the book, he couldn't remember even the title of it. "Shoo, go on scat!" He reached for the book.
Scratch's growl rose in pitch, overlong claws raked at Nick's carpet.
Sudden fear coursed up Alan's chest. It was unexpected. He scrambled back and gained his feet. Alan looked wide eyed at Scratch, whose backside had yet to leave whatever that book was about. He could feel his heart flutter in his chest and his skin crawled. It didn’t help the pounding in his head from the hangover that Alan could feel growing in intensity.
He swallowed. "Nick?" When there wasn't an answer he chastised himself for being scared of a mangy pet cat but walked - the long way around - to what he assumed was Nick's bedroom. He knocked, though there wasn't a response.
After waiting a few moments Alan was beginning to think that Nick actually left him alone in the apartment. Either that or the young man slept like the dead. Nature came calling shortly after that thought and Alan made his way into the bathroom. When he was done, Alan walked out into the living room again. The floor was neat aside from the sheet and pillow that Alan had kicked to the floor when Scratch woke him.
Something felt out of place, but Alan's head hurt too much to give it more thought. He had the feeling that something was missing that should have been obvious. Alan began folding the sheet back up and picked the pillow up off the floor. He then moved to pick up something else automatically, but he couldn't remember what it was. There was nothing else on the floor. Motion out of the corner of his eyes drew his attention to Scratch, who was now perched on the window ledge.
He hated the feeling of being watched. Watched was the wrong word, in honesty. He felt like he was being surveyed. And immediately felt foolish for being so worked up over a cat. He was groggy and dehydrated, he needed coffee, maybe a shower. A little burbling sound echoed from the kitchen. There was coffee percolating, and it smelled heavenly.
He started to the kitchen. Something made him turn around a moment later to find the cat sitting a foot behind him. The tip of Scratch’s tail flicked back and forth.
"Oh stop with the creepy shit already!"
Scratch let out a sound that was eerily close to a "humph" noise and turned his bedraggled nose to the air.
“Don't give me that.” Was he seriously arguing with a cat? Alan made the same sound himself and then turned into the kitchen. He looked to check on Scratch again out of the corner of his eye, but the critter seemed to move at warp speeds and wasn't anywhere to be seen. While he was pouring himself a cup, he spied a note on the counter.
Had to run out, back in a while, if you leave, there is a key on the table, just slide it back under the door. Also, some people may stop by, nice meeting you.
There was no signature or anything else on the notebook page. Alan turned it over idly as he sipped his coffee. Part of him wanted to wait for Nick and try one more time to ask him to go out later. Another part of him - older and much more realistic - told him to leave now and save himself the embarrassment. His head throbbed again and Alan groaned. He really needed a shower.
Alan put the note down and looked about for a pen. Coffee cup still warming his hands, he wandered around and nearly crossed back out of the kitchen.
There was a sound from the counter, of someone clearing his throat. Alan turned towards it and wasn’t that shocked to see Scratch again.
When he turned Scratch was sitting on the coffee table; a pen sat in front of his gangly feet. "Thanks…" He could always write the note just before he left. After he took a sip of the coffee, Alan pressed further into Nick's domain, wondering about how the other man usually acted when he took time to himself.
Alan's mind wandered to pleasant images of Nick relaxing, his shirt pulling softly against the muscles of his chest, sleeves rolled up to… "What the hell am I doing?" Alan shook his head then and got up off of Nick's bed, lord only knew how he got there.
Feeling like a perverted old man, Alan finished his coffee and looked at the clock. "Oh shit." It was exactly twelve o' six in the afternoon; he'd never been this late to work before. Actually, he'd never even called into work before. Though his first instinct was to leave the apartment and rush to the office, he stopped short of the door and went to refill his coffee mug. Screw it; he'd missed four hours of work already.
Instead he finished a cup of coffee, wandered about Nick's room a few more times and finally ended up in the shower. It still smelled warm, soft like the way wine made him feel. The door closed behind him silently and thickly. His first instinct was to take a bath in the huge tub, but Alan opted for a shower instead, taking his clothes off, he let his toes feel the soft bath-mat before stepping into the shower and closing the curtain behind him.
He shuddered when the water hit him; it filled his lungs with that heady, wine-like smell. His hands drifted and his thoughts wandered back to that state of mind that Alan knew was improper. There was some stupid, youthful thrill in missing work for no reason other than to enjoy himself in an attractive man's shower. Alan wasn’t going to ignore it. The water didn't get cold, but he knew he'd been in there too long from the feel of his hands. His fingertips were swollen and soft. After rinsing he toweled off and picked his clothing back up. Something inside of him just wanted to crawl into Nick's black bed sheets and fall asleep again.
Zipping his pants, Alan left his shirt on the floor and walked back to finish up Nick's coffee. In the back of his mind, Alan knew that he should be going home. There had never been a time where Alan was exactly free and easy, however he would have asked Nick out had he been younger. He’d been more hopeful in college, playing cards, attending writing classes, and dreaming. He got old and never saw it coming.
He was lost in his thoughts until he felt a strange tingle up the base of his spine. Spinning he came face to face with Scratch, who he'd almost forgotten about. He jumped and nearly spilled the coffee down his bare chest. "Jesus!"
The cat tilted his head as if Alan’s reaction was completely uncalled for.
“You really need to stop that shit.” He downed the last bit of coffee before getting fully dressed. After he left the cup in the sink, Alan picked the pen off of the counter. After a moment of debate, left Nick a note of his own.
Sorry to crash at your place. Maybe I can get you dinner sometime to say thanks – Alan
He wrote his phone number down and quickly left out the front door before he could change his mind.