Sleepless - C/Z, R
Monday, July 13th, 2015 10:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
serai.
Yes, it's another. No, I'm not stopping. OMFG.
I'm not sure if this is preslash. What do you think?
Sleepless
by Serai
Casey never thought a night could be this long.
He’s been tossing and turning for hours, alternating with long spells of staring into the dark, chewing absently at his nails. It’s not so much images that keep him awake – there’d been very little to see, the whole thing had happened so fast – as much as sensations. Intense pain, that rocky kind that says fuck your flesh, I’m in your bones, motherfucker. The shock of cold when he put the ice on his face, instant pleasure that quickly acquired its own sharp knife edge. Then the sudden strength of that hand clamped at his neck, and…
He rolls over in his bed for the hundredth time tonight, both following and trying not to follow his thoughts. They feel dangerous, but he wants to think them. He can’t just let this go – it could be a trap. So what was it? What was that? Casey doesn’t know what it was. Except that he does. It was. It was. Goddammit.
Casey sits up in the dark, and then rocks back and forth, feeling the press of a strong mouth against his, and the slow wet slide of that tongue stroking his lips. He panicked as much from a bitter sense of betrayal as from fear – Zeke’s never done him harm before, but he couldn’t help feeling it as an attack. The kiss - yes it was, you know it was, just say it already - stayed slow and patient, however, and oh fuck me, he relaxed, daring to hope that maybe this time touch wouldn’t lead to pain. He stayed suspended in that moment, not knowing what he felt or why he was feeling it.
And then Zeke just walked away, the bastard, with a taunt, no less, leaving him flushed and unmoored. Casey had cried. He fucking cried, actual tears. He hasn’t cried in five years; not one of the jock assholes who pound him on a regular basis has gotten that out of him. And fucking Zeke Tyler brought that wall down with a kiss. A kiss, for Christ’s sake. A kiss. One kiss. Just one kiss… His thoughts slow, his eyes close, and a wave of warmth runs down his spine. Just one… His breathing deepens as he thinks of that touch, then another, then another, hands around his face holding him steady, the pressure of a body against his. He thinks of Zeke’s quick, sardonic mouth moving so carefully. And he thinks of Zeke’s strange, flat eyes, that spark to golden life when the light hits them at a certain angle.
And the fact that the guy’s main motivation is indolence – he doesn’t fuck around hurting people for the sake of hurting them because it doesn’t interest him, and Zeke never does anything that doesn’t interest him. Casey’s known that for years; everybody knows it. If Zeke kissed him, it’s because he wanted to kiss him. But what does that mean? Is he going to come after Casey again? There was that whispered threat in the hallway. He listens to it again for the thousandth time in his mind. Later, Case. He feels gooseflesh along his arms, the sound is almost a caress in his memory, as if the voice had actually run up his skin like a fingertip. No, it wasn’t just a threat. He meant it. Casey feels certain of it, and for the first time, he isn’t so afraid of what might happen.
Casey wraps his hand around his aching dick, and realizes the only thing wrong with that kiss is that there hadn't been more.
Chapter 9 of High Contrast
Chapter 10
Yes, it's another. No, I'm not stopping. OMFG.
I'm not sure if this is preslash. What do you think?
Sleepless
by Serai
Casey never thought a night could be this long.
He’s been tossing and turning for hours, alternating with long spells of staring into the dark, chewing absently at his nails. It’s not so much images that keep him awake – there’d been very little to see, the whole thing had happened so fast – as much as sensations. Intense pain, that rocky kind that says fuck your flesh, I’m in your bones, motherfucker. The shock of cold when he put the ice on his face, instant pleasure that quickly acquired its own sharp knife edge. Then the sudden strength of that hand clamped at his neck, and…
He rolls over in his bed for the hundredth time tonight, both following and trying not to follow his thoughts. They feel dangerous, but he wants to think them. He can’t just let this go – it could be a trap. So what was it? What was that? Casey doesn’t know what it was. Except that he does. It was. It was. Goddammit.
Casey sits up in the dark, and then rocks back and forth, feeling the press of a strong mouth against his, and the slow wet slide of that tongue stroking his lips. He panicked as much from a bitter sense of betrayal as from fear – Zeke’s never done him harm before, but he couldn’t help feeling it as an attack. The kiss - yes it was, you know it was, just say it already - stayed slow and patient, however, and oh fuck me, he relaxed, daring to hope that maybe this time touch wouldn’t lead to pain. He stayed suspended in that moment, not knowing what he felt or why he was feeling it.
And then Zeke just walked away, the bastard, with a taunt, no less, leaving him flushed and unmoored. Casey had cried. He fucking cried, actual tears. He hasn’t cried in five years; not one of the jock assholes who pound him on a regular basis has gotten that out of him. And fucking Zeke Tyler brought that wall down with a kiss. A kiss, for Christ’s sake. A kiss. One kiss. Just one kiss… His thoughts slow, his eyes close, and a wave of warmth runs down his spine. Just one… His breathing deepens as he thinks of that touch, then another, then another, hands around his face holding him steady, the pressure of a body against his. He thinks of Zeke’s quick, sardonic mouth moving so carefully. And he thinks of Zeke’s strange, flat eyes, that spark to golden life when the light hits them at a certain angle.
And the fact that the guy’s main motivation is indolence – he doesn’t fuck around hurting people for the sake of hurting them because it doesn’t interest him, and Zeke never does anything that doesn’t interest him. Casey’s known that for years; everybody knows it. If Zeke kissed him, it’s because he wanted to kiss him. But what does that mean? Is he going to come after Casey again? There was that whispered threat in the hallway. He listens to it again for the thousandth time in his mind. Later, Case. He feels gooseflesh along his arms, the sound is almost a caress in his memory, as if the voice had actually run up his skin like a fingertip. No, it wasn’t just a threat. He meant it. Casey feels certain of it, and for the first time, he isn’t so afraid of what might happen.
Casey wraps his hand around his aching dick, and realizes the only thing wrong with that kiss is that there hadn't been more.
Chapter 9 of High Contrast
Chapter 10
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Date: Wednesday, July 15th, 2015 02:33 am (UTC)