Two Ficlets

[annundriel]

Reposting on LJ because I like them and want to save them.

For spacefragments:

Chris never thought of Wesker as Albert. Not when they worked together, not when they shared a drink after. He never thought of him as Albert when they fucked, when he was on his knees, Wesker's cock in his mouth. When Wesker's pressed against him in the shower, pinning Chris' wrists hard against the tile.

He was always Wesker. Wesker who led, who starred in Chris' fantasies. Wesker who held him down and fucked him hard. Wesker who betrayed them.

Chris doesn't think of Wesker as Albert, not then and not now. It's always Wesker that he groans, in pain or pleasure, at his own hand or at Wesker's. You'd think that would make it easier, more impersonal.

It doesn't.

*

For cautionzombies:

Dean wakes up to moaning coming from the foot of his bed. Moaning and soft licks and slurps and—

"Damn it, Cas. I told you not to watch porn in here!" Dean levers himself up on one elbow and—oh.

The TV isn't on at all. Cas is there, though, two fingers in his mouth, and he's looking at Dean with wide eyes. He pulls the two fingers out with a small pop.

"This is very good, Dean," he says, pointing to the chocolate on the table. His pink tongue sneaks out to lap at a knuckle. "You should have said."

Dean gapes and then faceplants back on the bed, pressing his interested dick against the mattress. Fuck his life.

Comments

[mulder200.livejournal.com]

LOL! Oh Poor Dean! Maybe.