Ficlet: Scott, NC-17
Monday, March 27th, 2006 11:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
seraiThis is another of my fics from a former life in fandom. Since the ones I've posted before have been well-received (by a few of you, at least), I thought I'd post another.
Yes, this is one of those block-of-text things, but there's reason for that, as you'll see. Besides, it's not long, so I think you can hold it until we get there. ;)
Scott
Standing there on the street, the harsh light outlining his cheekbones, throwing his eyes into shadow. His sweet cold eyes and strong warm hands, his dancer's body and his brazen stance, waiting, waiting for whatever, waiting for me. And his smile of recognition when I pull up to the curb, the casual arrogance of his hips and shoulders, and his slow confident steps. And his hand on the door, warm flesh against the cold metal, I can almost feel it on my skin. And his legs as the door opens look a mile long. And the sound of him sliding onto the seat, sexy, silky. And the rush of warmth on my face as I lean over and kiss his neck and he laughs, pulls away. And the streetlights flickering over the contours of his face as we drive off, who are you, beautiful boy, who are you? And the length of him tall in my living room, his eyes shuttered and dark as he looks around. And his arms as he pulls off his jacket, shoulders arching under white shirtsilk. And my fingers as I pull the shirt off him, running over his skin, my mouth on him, tasting his skin. And his hair falling over his face, his face of marble and gold. And the tight caress of my clothes as he undresses me, exposing my breasts and belly and cunt. And his full lips smiling a little as he kneels slow, runs his mouth in a line down my flesh, pushes his tongue into me, kindling me. And his hands and arms wrapping my legs strong as I cry out. And his eyes closing as I look down at him, young god on his knees before me. And the fire, and the fire, coming so fast, fingers digging into his neck and shoulders, surprised it comes so fast, I thought it would take longer. And his arms pulling me down, mouth hot catching my nipple as I sink, sucking me, sucking me hard. And my hands shaking, pulling at his pants, sliding them down off him. And his cock silky like his tongue, pushing at me, spreading me. And his arms holding him taut and high above me. And my back itching scratching on the wool rug. And my hands on his ass, squeezing hard, he groans, he likes that, yes. And the feeling of full painful full as he rides me, rides me high, shifting his hips to push me into the fire again. And the hot wet flood of my cunt thick and throbbing, the heat flashing outward over me as I come again, nails raking his back, sweat breaking out again. And his shining face cold and hot above me. And his voice giving over to twitching gasps. And his eyes closing, head turning away as he climbs higher and higher. And what is he thinking as he climbs, where is he going? And my eyes burning as I watch him, distant. And his tension as he comes, breath held, arms trembling, mouth open, open. And the feel of him locked deep in my flesh. And his come-laugh as his breath breaks out, and then his voice sinking into hard little aah aah sounds as the orgasm pulls and twists, leaving him. And his skin damp as he sinks down, his weight heavy on me. And his face against my neck, breath hot and tremoring on my shoulder. And my arms around him squeeze him to me for a moment, just the moment he allows before he breaks away. And the light glittering down his spine as he sits up, long jeweled line down his back. And his face hidden in his hair as he curls his arms around his knees, long legs strong-thighed like a horse and golden arms. And his long silence. And his intake of breath as he lifts his head to look over his arm at me. And his eyes, and his smile that doesn't reach them, far away, far away, perfect. And my hunger and my lonely aching. And his hand reaching slow to run up my thigh again, play of his fingers twisting, sparking me open, young man, young man, ready again so soon. And his face leaning over me, ripe lips so close, not kissing, never kissing. And how much I want him and how much I want to love him. And how much he doesn't love me. And how much he doesn't care.
Yes, this is one of those block-of-text things, but there's reason for that, as you'll see. Besides, it's not long, so I think you can hold it until we get there. ;)
Scott
Standing there on the street, the harsh light outlining his cheekbones, throwing his eyes into shadow. His sweet cold eyes and strong warm hands, his dancer's body and his brazen stance, waiting, waiting for whatever, waiting for me. And his smile of recognition when I pull up to the curb, the casual arrogance of his hips and shoulders, and his slow confident steps. And his hand on the door, warm flesh against the cold metal, I can almost feel it on my skin. And his legs as the door opens look a mile long. And the sound of him sliding onto the seat, sexy, silky. And the rush of warmth on my face as I lean over and kiss his neck and he laughs, pulls away. And the streetlights flickering over the contours of his face as we drive off, who are you, beautiful boy, who are you? And the length of him tall in my living room, his eyes shuttered and dark as he looks around. And his arms as he pulls off his jacket, shoulders arching under white shirtsilk. And my fingers as I pull the shirt off him, running over his skin, my mouth on him, tasting his skin. And his hair falling over his face, his face of marble and gold. And the tight caress of my clothes as he undresses me, exposing my breasts and belly and cunt. And his full lips smiling a little as he kneels slow, runs his mouth in a line down my flesh, pushes his tongue into me, kindling me. And his hands and arms wrapping my legs strong as I cry out. And his eyes closing as I look down at him, young god on his knees before me. And the fire, and the fire, coming so fast, fingers digging into his neck and shoulders, surprised it comes so fast, I thought it would take longer. And his arms pulling me down, mouth hot catching my nipple as I sink, sucking me, sucking me hard. And my hands shaking, pulling at his pants, sliding them down off him. And his cock silky like his tongue, pushing at me, spreading me. And his arms holding him taut and high above me. And my back itching scratching on the wool rug. And my hands on his ass, squeezing hard, he groans, he likes that, yes. And the feeling of full painful full as he rides me, rides me high, shifting his hips to push me into the fire again. And the hot wet flood of my cunt thick and throbbing, the heat flashing outward over me as I come again, nails raking his back, sweat breaking out again. And his shining face cold and hot above me. And his voice giving over to twitching gasps. And his eyes closing, head turning away as he climbs higher and higher. And what is he thinking as he climbs, where is he going? And my eyes burning as I watch him, distant. And his tension as he comes, breath held, arms trembling, mouth open, open. And the feel of him locked deep in my flesh. And his come-laugh as his breath breaks out, and then his voice sinking into hard little aah aah sounds as the orgasm pulls and twists, leaving him. And his skin damp as he sinks down, his weight heavy on me. And his face against my neck, breath hot and tremoring on my shoulder. And my arms around him squeeze him to me for a moment, just the moment he allows before he breaks away. And the light glittering down his spine as he sits up, long jeweled line down his back. And his face hidden in his hair as he curls his arms around his knees, long legs strong-thighed like a horse and golden arms. And his long silence. And his intake of breath as he lifts his head to look over his arm at me. And his eyes, and his smile that doesn't reach them, far away, far away, perfect. And my hunger and my lonely aching. And his hand reaching slow to run up my thigh again, play of his fingers twisting, sparking me open, young man, young man, ready again so soon. And his face leaning over me, ripe lips so close, not kissing, never kissing. And how much I want him and how much I want to love him. And how much he doesn't love me. And how much he doesn't care.
