About This Work Thing . . .
Aug. 12th, 2008 07:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tanarillI read the employee handbook. Cover to cellophane cover. WE ARE NOT REQUIRED TO BE AT WORK NINE HOURS A DAY. We are required to be at work eight and a half hours a day, of which we are entitled to a half-hour lunch break and two fifteen-minute coffee breaks per day. I don't drink coffee; therefore, I take hour lunches. I do eat a fruit as a metabolism booster every day, but I don't stop working while doing so.
Also, Mr. Boss Man, it is incredibly rude of you to schedule a meeting from four to five tomorrow because that was the last time I was going to get to see the Boy before he goes to Budapest. And now I can't. Just so you know, I'm giving you a Dagger Glare.
In other news, I see someone named![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
nuavarion has friended me. Who are you? Have you been stalking my journal? And did you know that in return for a decloak post you get a free drabble?
Julia, respond to the damn email!
And a ficbit.
Title: [Insert Title Here]
Fandom: DCU
Rating: R. Very much so.
Warning: Implied gay sex. Look, the disclaimer said I'd warn you, and that you don't have to read it.
"So, about going into heat," said Bruce. He said it after yet another round of truly amazing sex, which was still hard to think in his head because he remembered Zharren the same way he remember nightmares upon waking. Something had happened, though, because he'd come back to himself to find a very possessive, very clingy Bruce and he really wished he could remember it.
"Yes?"
"I noticed-something-every eight and a half months, but. If anything, you get less violent. How does that work?"
Clark shrugged, and was momentarily distracted by the feel on his skin briefly pressed against Bruce's. "That's how it works. I get very . . . sensitive for a few days. I mean, even more than usual. I don't really like doing anything when, for example, a door opening on the other side of an aircraft hanger is something I can feel. The overload is . . ."
"An overload. Which you work through."
"Yes. But it-I've always looked at it kind of as the price I have for the kind of senses I do the rest of the time. And at least it's not like women having a period every month. I don't think I could stand it that often, really."
"Hm." Bruce leaned forward and licked the back of his neck, causing him to shiver. "When do you next go into heat?"
"To be honest, I don't know. Zharren threw my entire system, and it's going to take time to settle. Bruce." This last was because Bruce had decided that tracing his spine with his tongue was an absolutely necessary thing to do at that point.
"Mm?"
"You are insatiable."
"I'm making up for wasted time. You don't really seem to mind."
"No-ah-I don't. But-" Bruce's tongue slipped over the hollow of his hip, and Bruce pushed at him to get him on his back. "But-" Bruce was teasing along the line where his leg joined his torso. He broke down. "Please."
He felt Bruce's smirk against his skin, and then, "Really don't seem to mind."
Clark didn't particularly feel like arguing, but he did say, "Insatiable," right before Bruce rendered him first speechless, and then loud but incoherent.
Especially when Bruce did that with his mouth.
Also, Mr. Boss Man, it is incredibly rude of you to schedule a meeting from four to five tomorrow because that was the last time I was going to get to see the Boy before he goes to Budapest. And now I can't. Just so you know, I'm giving you a Dagger Glare.
In other news, I see someone named
nuavarion has friended me. Who are you? Have you been stalking my journal? And did you know that in return for a decloak post you get a free drabble?Julia, respond to the damn email!
And a ficbit.
Title: [Insert Title Here]
Fandom: DCU
Rating: R. Very much so.
Warning: Implied gay sex. Look, the disclaimer said I'd warn you, and that you don't have to read it.
"So, about going into heat," said Bruce. He said it after yet another round of truly amazing sex, which was still hard to think in his head because he remembered Zharren the same way he remember nightmares upon waking. Something had happened, though, because he'd come back to himself to find a very possessive, very clingy Bruce and he really wished he could remember it.
"Yes?"
"I noticed-something-every eight and a half months, but. If anything, you get less violent. How does that work?"
Clark shrugged, and was momentarily distracted by the feel on his skin briefly pressed against Bruce's. "That's how it works. I get very . . . sensitive for a few days. I mean, even more than usual. I don't really like doing anything when, for example, a door opening on the other side of an aircraft hanger is something I can feel. The overload is . . ."
"An overload. Which you work through."
"Yes. But it-I've always looked at it kind of as the price I have for the kind of senses I do the rest of the time. And at least it's not like women having a period every month. I don't think I could stand it that often, really."
"Hm." Bruce leaned forward and licked the back of his neck, causing him to shiver. "When do you next go into heat?"
"To be honest, I don't know. Zharren threw my entire system, and it's going to take time to settle. Bruce." This last was because Bruce had decided that tracing his spine with his tongue was an absolutely necessary thing to do at that point.
"Mm?"
"You are insatiable."
"I'm making up for wasted time. You don't really seem to mind."
"No-ah-I don't. But-" Bruce's tongue slipped over the hollow of his hip, and Bruce pushed at him to get him on his back. "But-" Bruce was teasing along the line where his leg joined his torso. He broke down. "Please."
He felt Bruce's smirk against his skin, and then, "Really don't seem to mind."
Clark didn't particularly feel like arguing, but he did say, "Insatiable," right before Bruce rendered him first speechless, and then loud but incoherent.
Especially when Bruce did that with his mouth.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-08-13 01:35 am (UTC)Also yay implied porn.
no subject
Date: 2008-08-13 01:53 am (UTC)Which, in my head, makes it even funnier.
Also, your birthday is when now?
no subject
Date: 2008-08-13 01:56 am (UTC)It is on the 17th.
no subject
Date: 2008-08-13 02:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-13 03:17 pm (UTC)Also, as you have made you official decloak-and-not-a-stalker post, you have earned one free drabble. Give me a prompt, and I'll write you a Thing.
no subject
Date: 2008-08-13 09:55 pm (UTC)Anywho... a prompt... hmmm...
How about Ambrose/Wyatt - after Glitch gets his brain back. Wyatt learning more about Ambrose's fear of heights and helping him get over it.
no subject
Date: 2008-08-15 03:03 am (UTC)Cain sighed, and then said, "Why not?"
"I just can't."
"Look. You said I could plan our anniversary. You don't get to tell me you can't when I actually do. You have to tell me why."
"That's why it's called the Tower Hotel, yes. With the most expensive restaurant in the city."
"What if I fall?" Ambrose wailed.
Cain didn't even bother with comforting touches. He went straight for the full-on snogging, until Ambrose was no longer pale and also having trouble standing up. Then he pulled back, just a little.
"Sweetheart, do you really think I'd let you fall?"
So then Cain asked for a seat on the balcony right next to the railing. And kept running his leg up the inside of his shin, which felt nice and also distracted him from his terror while Cain pointed out the various landmarks. The food was good, too, and Ambrose didn't notice himself loosening up until dessert, which was tiramisu.
"Open wide," said Cain, leveling a forkful at him.
He opened his mouth to protest that he could feed himself, and it was immediately stuffed with confection. A moment later, Cain's tongue was there also, occupied with teasing and tasting and generally making him remember all over again why he loved this man. And then Cain pulled back.
Through tingly lips, Ambrose heard himself say, "I'm sure you know how to use a fork."
"Mm. I like it better this way."
In return to which, he grabbed the other fork, collected a bit of tiramisu, and held it up. Along with his eyebrow. But Cain, it turned out, was right. It did taste better from inside Cain's mouth. That was how they fed each other dessert and by the end what Ambrose really wanted to dowas get Cain naked and . . .
Yeah.
Cain, it seemed, had a similar thought, because almost as soon as they had finished the meal, the were standing and Cain was stealing kiss after kiss and leading him-
Oh no. To the viewing platform.
Where he sat them down on one of the benches and held him close and close and just held him until the shaking stopped.
"Why?" he asked.
"I-there's this nightmare, I have, of you falling and falling into white and I can't get to you in time."
Cain gave him an odd look, and then said, "You got to me in time."
And told him a story.
"Oh," he said, after Cain finished but before Cain kissed him like he was . . . like he was someone that needed to be kissed, every moment, tasted and claimed.
All the way home, and all the way into their bedroom (as they slipped of clothes desperate and breathless), and all the way into bed, and all through the night.
***
Hmm, so, that got higher-rated than I had planned. Oh well. Hope you like.
no subject
Date: 2008-08-15 03:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-13 02:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-13 10:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-13 11:00 pm (UTC)(Also, his character is used to stubbly make fun of people who get Asian character tattoos without knowing what they mean. He's got "transvestite" tattooed on his lower back in Chinese.)