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rainbowfic2015-06-19 11:41 pm
greenling) wrote in rainbowfic2015-06-19 11:41 pm
Famous #10, Angel Cake #1
Name: Greenling
Story: All Great Things
Colors: Famous #10 (You taste just like glitter mixed with rock and roll), Angel Cake #1 (Glorious appearing)
Supplies and Styles: Reimaging (first bit is working out the start of AGT1), Fingerpainting (sexytimes), Pointillism (first bit), Miniature Collection (first bit), Brush (predicate (verb)), Stain (There cannot be a crisis next week. My schedule is already full. Henry Kissinger), Modeling Clay (Six Word Saturdays), Novelty Beads (Don't ask me what I think of you, I might not give the answer that you want me to. - Fleetwood Mac, Oh Well), Might Be Graffiti? (NSFW from SWL)
Word Count: 1,933
Rating: R
Warnings: Sexual situations and some awkwardness of mixed-sexuality relationships.
Summary: Peace, Dmitry, and Diana at the start of Part 1, and again at the start of Part 3, after the whole world beginning to explode thing. A response to SWL's Birthday prompt things back in April.
All comments/crit okay. Please tell me if the sexytimes are godawful, I am not used to that.
They got off on the wrong foot the first time, maybe; Peace saw her before she saw him, creeping out of the old car like a wary tigress with arrows in her flank, but if that was the wrong foot god only knew what the right one was supposed to be.
*
Fake ads, research, tracking leads, legal work, fumbling through charms, borrowing an empty office; the whole elaborate setup went fine until she actually found it- him- and his plastered-on smile and damned dark untrusting eyes, trying to act like he could possibly be a normal person.
*
He came into every room like he owned it, he smiled like nothing else mattered, he dressed like his clothes existed to make other people feel better about themselves, but mostly he really seemed to think he was a hero, so Dmitry hated him.
*
It felt weird to her that someone could be what he was, know what he was, and still have no idea what to do with himself, but if all he needed was something to stick his claws into then Diana had a long list of candidates for him.
*
Dmitry mostly ignored her at first.
**
"I just keep worrying what she thinks of me, you know?"
And that was it for the awkward silence. Dmitry's eyes flicked over to Diana; she hadn't been looking at him either, staring at the off-white hotel wallpaper with a bored expression that probably had nothing to do with how she was really feeling. Or it may have, given it was one of those situations where there was nothing to do but looking at your phone was probably rude, but there was probably more to it than that.
Since Peace had left, he had been trying not to look at Diana too much, or too little, or do anything awkward. It was a really weird situation to be in with her after all they'd been through. Turned out it was really hard not to be awkward when your mind kept going back to whether someone was wearing the lingerie you bought them as a joke over Christmas. Not that he actually wanted to know. Still marginally better, probably, than heading to the store himself and risking losing his nerve.
"Your girlfriend? Didn't she basically suggest this?"
"Uh- kind of? Not specifically- man, you were there for the bulk of that conversation."
"Right." They had all been several kinds of out of their heads that night, after the last shatter cleanup. Jokes had been made. Stuff had happened. At some point it had been just the three of them left, and things had gotten... weird. "Look, if you feel like this will affect your relationship, or whatever reason or no reason, we don't have to do this. If he so much as frowns at you over it I'll break his balls."
"Shit no, I'm not walking away from this." Diana scowled. "I'm here, we talked about it, not having wild guilt-free sex with two hot guys is not gonna make a difference at this point. I just worry she thinks I wouldn't be happy with her without screwing someone somewhere along the line."
"One hot guy. Who's also fucking another guy." Dmitry raised a finger. "And, no offense, but I thought that was like-"
"It's complicated. And it's a shitty thing to think about yourself," Diana interrupted. "If she does. Zelle already thinks I'm giving other stuff up to be with her."
Dmitry shrugged broadly, trying not to elbow her as he did so. There were technically chairs in the tiny living area of the hotel, but they were being used as shelves at the moment so the choices were bed or floor. "I have no idea what you're feeling right now." Diana snorted. "Man. I thought werewolves were supposed to be emotionally stable."
She gave him a raised-eyebrow glare for just long enough that he thought he might have managed to offend her before she spoke.
"The hell would you think that? You've been living with that one." She gestured to the door.
Dmitry rolled his eyes. "Okay, the ones I've met, there was that little black guy with the SUV who turned into a snake-"
"Kevin is a weird exception."
"-okay, and then there were the two huge guys who-"
"-who you had what, a five minute conversation with-"
"-and hell, I don't know. Peace is stable, outside of the trauma thing and the anger issues," he finished.
Diana's eyebrow stayed stuck where it was.
"Fuck you."
She snorted again and opened her mouth to say something- he regretted his wording as soon as he'd said it- when he heard the sound of footsteps and the rustle of a bag outside the door. They both looked up at the same time, then Diana grinned at him real quick, saying something under her breath that sounded like "if you need to", then punched her hand in an illustration he mostly understood.
Peace popped open the door and came in without preamble, waving a plastic bag at the two of them. "Hey! They had a sale on condoms so I got strawberry flavor!" he said in the most annoyingly chipper tone it was possible for a more-or-less human being to utter.
"When the hell do they have a sale on condoms?"
"When everybody thinks they're gonna die any day now," Diana replied matter-of-factly.
Peace frowned, locking the door behind him and tossing his jacket over a pile of boxes in a chair. "Do we have to talk about that tonight?"
"Can we just get to this?" Dmitry grumbled. "I mean... how do we start?"
"Uh..." Peace looked at him, then Diana, who had stood up and started examining the bag at some point. "I guess with the usual sort of thing? What do you two want to do?"
"Logistically," Diana said, not looking up, "it'd be easiest if you start, or suggest something. Once we get into things maybe we'll stop thinking about other stuff."
Peace glanced questioningly at Dmitry, who just shrugged, keeping his arms crossed and his face neutral. The awkward silence returned for a moment, but then Peace grinned again and kicked his shoes off at the wall. They bounced off with a soft thunk.
"Okay. I can do this."
He reached under the bed, dragged out a little gray box, and started fiddling with it; as he sat it down on the dresser, Dmitry recognized it as an old CD player. The hair on the back of his neck stood up.
Diana laughed. "Where did you even get that?"
"Around." Peace winked at her. He clicked a button. The music started up.
Dmitry watched through his fingers and tried not to die of embarrassment as Peace twirled around, stripping his shirt off and rolling it over his back. Diana was just about busting a gut laughing, but that just seemed to encourage the redheaded idiot. He catwalked a circuit around Diana, sliding an arm around her waist and kissing her deeply. Dmitry made himself watch that, too. It was... less embarrassing. His chest didn't feel tight, thank god, he didn't feel anxious or disgusted, just awkward. Awkward and like he really wanted Peace to turn off the damned music and come shove his tongue down his throat.
That was a less awkward feeling, so he went with it. Just focus on the way the muscles in Peace's back rippled when he moved, the way his hips peeked out from over the band of his boxers, the curls of hair along his chest. It wasn't easy to ignore Diana, but it was also hard not to notice the way his boyfriend's cock started pressing against his overly-tight jeans.
Dmitry closed his eyes and tugged his shirt over his head, letting the image sink into his mind. Suddenly there were lips on the back of his neck and hands on his shoulders. He may have made a noise. Shivers of electricity ran down his spine as that cock pressed up against his hip. He kept his eyes closed and leaned into it, one hand sliding back to hook into the beltloops of Peace's jeans.
"You okay?" Peace murmured in his ear. Dmitry responded by leaning back a little more and groping. Peace moved so they were facing each other, annoyingly not touching, and softly flicked his thumb over Dmitry's closed eyelid. "Talk to me. I wanna know."
Dmitry opened his eyes and squinted sourly. He didn't want to think about it. It would be easier not to think about the situation, that stupid music, what he could see silhouetted in the gaps between the other man's backlit hair. "I'm fine," he whispered. "It's just weird. I want you."
"You can have me alone if you want."
His chest fluttered and he tensed, closing his eyes again. It was... he wasn't sure what it was, but the fluttering scared him way more than the rest of it.
Dmitry's hand went up to Peace's jaw and he pulled it closer, nuzzling in what he hoped was an enticing fashion. "C'mon. I want to see someone make you come. Even if it's her."
"Oh." For a brief moment Peace's voice rose back to its usual brightness instead of the soft romantic thing he'd been doing. He seemed amused. "I think she wants the same thing."
Dmitry smirked. "Then get to it."
They kissed again, nice and slow, which made the fluttery feeling act up again. Dmitry took Peace's butt in both hands and squeezed. Something rose up slowly in the middle of Dmitry's chest, a hot, tugging feeling he couldn't name, distracting him from the hands running down his sides, backing him up towards the bed.
Diana was sitting on the edge of the bed, not wearing much. Their eyes met and bounced away from each other, but Peace was right there, tugging at his pants. He definitely made a noise. The heat got worse.
His chest was a burning point, pulsing, overwhelming, and Peace was making some kind of noise- and Diana was shouting- and then they weren't there.
He started to breathe again.
Cold concrete. His head felt funny. He was laying on concrete, with the sword. He sat up with a start, scrambling to his feet and blinking his eyes open- already open. Either he was blind or it was really fucking-
White light exploded in front of him. He fell back with a shout against something solid but not painful, hands going up to shield his eyes.
"Hmm. Did it catch you at a bad time?"
"You-" Dmitry growled at the gratingly familiar voice, blinking tears out of his eyes. He realized the scene he was playing into but that couldn't stop his mouth. "-fucking Yoda-talking furry shithead! The fuck did you do?"
"You don't know? Interesting!" The light resolved itself into a dark-robed figure, leaning on one arm of an incongruous office chair and flanked by a pair of very large burly men. Its white-furred hand tapped a finger against the side of a dramatically-angled hood.
Dmitry spread his arms wide, then used the sword as a support to stand up again. "Hey, y'know, nobody's here to stop me from skinning you for a coat. I think you should reconsider this mysterious angle."
"Perhaps. Perhaps not." It gestured, and Dmitry noticed some kind of weird glowing stuff on the ground around him. "Kimai believes this is more a position of strength, but it means no harm, truly. It has a simple proposition for you, Mr. Thrall."
Dmitry glared daggers at the shadowy hood. "Like what?"
Story: All Great Things
Colors: Famous #10 (You taste just like glitter mixed with rock and roll), Angel Cake #1 (Glorious appearing)
Supplies and Styles: Reimaging (first bit is working out the start of AGT1), Fingerpainting (sexytimes), Pointillism (first bit), Miniature Collection (first bit), Brush (predicate (verb)), Stain (There cannot be a crisis next week. My schedule is already full. Henry Kissinger), Modeling Clay (Six Word Saturdays), Novelty Beads (Don't ask me what I think of you, I might not give the answer that you want me to. - Fleetwood Mac, Oh Well), Might Be Graffiti? (NSFW from SWL)
Word Count: 1,933
Rating: R
Warnings: Sexual situations and some awkwardness of mixed-sexuality relationships.
Summary: Peace, Dmitry, and Diana at the start of Part 1, and again at the start of Part 3, after the whole world beginning to explode thing. A response to SWL's Birthday prompt things back in April.
All comments/crit okay. Please tell me if the sexytimes are godawful, I am not used to that.
They got off on the wrong foot the first time, maybe; Peace saw her before she saw him, creeping out of the old car like a wary tigress with arrows in her flank, but if that was the wrong foot god only knew what the right one was supposed to be.
*
Fake ads, research, tracking leads, legal work, fumbling through charms, borrowing an empty office; the whole elaborate setup went fine until she actually found it- him- and his plastered-on smile and damned dark untrusting eyes, trying to act like he could possibly be a normal person.
*
He came into every room like he owned it, he smiled like nothing else mattered, he dressed like his clothes existed to make other people feel better about themselves, but mostly he really seemed to think he was a hero, so Dmitry hated him.
*
It felt weird to her that someone could be what he was, know what he was, and still have no idea what to do with himself, but if all he needed was something to stick his claws into then Diana had a long list of candidates for him.
*
Dmitry mostly ignored her at first.
**
"I just keep worrying what she thinks of me, you know?"
And that was it for the awkward silence. Dmitry's eyes flicked over to Diana; she hadn't been looking at him either, staring at the off-white hotel wallpaper with a bored expression that probably had nothing to do with how she was really feeling. Or it may have, given it was one of those situations where there was nothing to do but looking at your phone was probably rude, but there was probably more to it than that.
Since Peace had left, he had been trying not to look at Diana too much, or too little, or do anything awkward. It was a really weird situation to be in with her after all they'd been through. Turned out it was really hard not to be awkward when your mind kept going back to whether someone was wearing the lingerie you bought them as a joke over Christmas. Not that he actually wanted to know. Still marginally better, probably, than heading to the store himself and risking losing his nerve.
"Your girlfriend? Didn't she basically suggest this?"
"Uh- kind of? Not specifically- man, you were there for the bulk of that conversation."
"Right." They had all been several kinds of out of their heads that night, after the last shatter cleanup. Jokes had been made. Stuff had happened. At some point it had been just the three of them left, and things had gotten... weird. "Look, if you feel like this will affect your relationship, or whatever reason or no reason, we don't have to do this. If he so much as frowns at you over it I'll break his balls."
"Shit no, I'm not walking away from this." Diana scowled. "I'm here, we talked about it, not having wild guilt-free sex with two hot guys is not gonna make a difference at this point. I just worry she thinks I wouldn't be happy with her without screwing someone somewhere along the line."
"One hot guy. Who's also fucking another guy." Dmitry raised a finger. "And, no offense, but I thought that was like-"
"It's complicated. And it's a shitty thing to think about yourself," Diana interrupted. "If she does. Zelle already thinks I'm giving other stuff up to be with her."
Dmitry shrugged broadly, trying not to elbow her as he did so. There were technically chairs in the tiny living area of the hotel, but they were being used as shelves at the moment so the choices were bed or floor. "I have no idea what you're feeling right now." Diana snorted. "Man. I thought werewolves were supposed to be emotionally stable."
She gave him a raised-eyebrow glare for just long enough that he thought he might have managed to offend her before she spoke.
"The hell would you think that? You've been living with that one." She gestured to the door.
Dmitry rolled his eyes. "Okay, the ones I've met, there was that little black guy with the SUV who turned into a snake-"
"Kevin is a weird exception."
"-okay, and then there were the two huge guys who-"
"-who you had what, a five minute conversation with-"
"-and hell, I don't know. Peace is stable, outside of the trauma thing and the anger issues," he finished.
Diana's eyebrow stayed stuck where it was.
"Fuck you."
She snorted again and opened her mouth to say something- he regretted his wording as soon as he'd said it- when he heard the sound of footsteps and the rustle of a bag outside the door. They both looked up at the same time, then Diana grinned at him real quick, saying something under her breath that sounded like "if you need to", then punched her hand in an illustration he mostly understood.
Peace popped open the door and came in without preamble, waving a plastic bag at the two of them. "Hey! They had a sale on condoms so I got strawberry flavor!" he said in the most annoyingly chipper tone it was possible for a more-or-less human being to utter.
"When the hell do they have a sale on condoms?"
"When everybody thinks they're gonna die any day now," Diana replied matter-of-factly.
Peace frowned, locking the door behind him and tossing his jacket over a pile of boxes in a chair. "Do we have to talk about that tonight?"
"Can we just get to this?" Dmitry grumbled. "I mean... how do we start?"
"Uh..." Peace looked at him, then Diana, who had stood up and started examining the bag at some point. "I guess with the usual sort of thing? What do you two want to do?"
"Logistically," Diana said, not looking up, "it'd be easiest if you start, or suggest something. Once we get into things maybe we'll stop thinking about other stuff."
Peace glanced questioningly at Dmitry, who just shrugged, keeping his arms crossed and his face neutral. The awkward silence returned for a moment, but then Peace grinned again and kicked his shoes off at the wall. They bounced off with a soft thunk.
"Okay. I can do this."
He reached under the bed, dragged out a little gray box, and started fiddling with it; as he sat it down on the dresser, Dmitry recognized it as an old CD player. The hair on the back of his neck stood up.
Diana laughed. "Where did you even get that?"
"Around." Peace winked at her. He clicked a button. The music started up.
Dmitry watched through his fingers and tried not to die of embarrassment as Peace twirled around, stripping his shirt off and rolling it over his back. Diana was just about busting a gut laughing, but that just seemed to encourage the redheaded idiot. He catwalked a circuit around Diana, sliding an arm around her waist and kissing her deeply. Dmitry made himself watch that, too. It was... less embarrassing. His chest didn't feel tight, thank god, he didn't feel anxious or disgusted, just awkward. Awkward and like he really wanted Peace to turn off the damned music and come shove his tongue down his throat.
That was a less awkward feeling, so he went with it. Just focus on the way the muscles in Peace's back rippled when he moved, the way his hips peeked out from over the band of his boxers, the curls of hair along his chest. It wasn't easy to ignore Diana, but it was also hard not to notice the way his boyfriend's cock started pressing against his overly-tight jeans.
Dmitry closed his eyes and tugged his shirt over his head, letting the image sink into his mind. Suddenly there were lips on the back of his neck and hands on his shoulders. He may have made a noise. Shivers of electricity ran down his spine as that cock pressed up against his hip. He kept his eyes closed and leaned into it, one hand sliding back to hook into the beltloops of Peace's jeans.
"You okay?" Peace murmured in his ear. Dmitry responded by leaning back a little more and groping. Peace moved so they were facing each other, annoyingly not touching, and softly flicked his thumb over Dmitry's closed eyelid. "Talk to me. I wanna know."
Dmitry opened his eyes and squinted sourly. He didn't want to think about it. It would be easier not to think about the situation, that stupid music, what he could see silhouetted in the gaps between the other man's backlit hair. "I'm fine," he whispered. "It's just weird. I want you."
"You can have me alone if you want."
His chest fluttered and he tensed, closing his eyes again. It was... he wasn't sure what it was, but the fluttering scared him way more than the rest of it.
Dmitry's hand went up to Peace's jaw and he pulled it closer, nuzzling in what he hoped was an enticing fashion. "C'mon. I want to see someone make you come. Even if it's her."
"Oh." For a brief moment Peace's voice rose back to its usual brightness instead of the soft romantic thing he'd been doing. He seemed amused. "I think she wants the same thing."
Dmitry smirked. "Then get to it."
They kissed again, nice and slow, which made the fluttery feeling act up again. Dmitry took Peace's butt in both hands and squeezed. Something rose up slowly in the middle of Dmitry's chest, a hot, tugging feeling he couldn't name, distracting him from the hands running down his sides, backing him up towards the bed.
Diana was sitting on the edge of the bed, not wearing much. Their eyes met and bounced away from each other, but Peace was right there, tugging at his pants. He definitely made a noise. The heat got worse.
His chest was a burning point, pulsing, overwhelming, and Peace was making some kind of noise- and Diana was shouting- and then they weren't there.
He started to breathe again.
Cold concrete. His head felt funny. He was laying on concrete, with the sword. He sat up with a start, scrambling to his feet and blinking his eyes open- already open. Either he was blind or it was really fucking-
White light exploded in front of him. He fell back with a shout against something solid but not painful, hands going up to shield his eyes.
"Hmm. Did it catch you at a bad time?"
"You-" Dmitry growled at the gratingly familiar voice, blinking tears out of his eyes. He realized the scene he was playing into but that couldn't stop his mouth. "-fucking Yoda-talking furry shithead! The fuck did you do?"
"You don't know? Interesting!" The light resolved itself into a dark-robed figure, leaning on one arm of an incongruous office chair and flanked by a pair of very large burly men. Its white-furred hand tapped a finger against the side of a dramatically-angled hood.
Dmitry spread his arms wide, then used the sword as a support to stand up again. "Hey, y'know, nobody's here to stop me from skinning you for a coat. I think you should reconsider this mysterious angle."
"Perhaps. Perhaps not." It gestured, and Dmitry noticed some kind of weird glowing stuff on the ground around him. "Kimai believes this is more a position of strength, but it means no harm, truly. It has a simple proposition for you, Mr. Thrall."
Dmitry glared daggers at the shadowy hood. "Like what?"
no subject
I like the contrast here!
no subject
Thanks for reading!