new wilby wonderful story
16/4/05 17:31![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
schmericaI don't know if you guys know this or not, but ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lalejandra is very dedicated to porn. And because of her (though, I might add, completely without her knowledge) I decided to challenge myself today into writing Dan and Duck and sex -- which I've been thinking been about a lot the past couple weeks, natch, and which is really difficult. Anyway, she is off having exciting real life adventures with other fans this weekend, I think, but this is dedicated to her anyway.
Title: Tenderfoot
Fandom: Wilby Wonderful
Pairing: Dan/Duck
Summary: "He's smiling a little, but it's an odd smile. It's one of his smiles that he uses to say it's okay to say no."
Thank you tovisionshadows and nifra_idril for quick beta.
About 7k.
Read at my site, or below.
*****
Dan doesn't want to go back to the motel after he gets released from the hospital -- it feels wrong, somehow, to go back to the place where he spent so much time planning his death, and he has the feeling the staff will be a little worried that he's just waiting for the opportunity to do it again. Still, though, he has nowhere else to go, so he's resigned himself to the option, until Duck looks down at their hands clasped together over the hospital sheets and offers him a place to stay.
"I don't know if you're already made arrangements or anything," Duck says. He's smiling a little, but it's an odd smile. It's one of his smiles that he uses to say it's okay to say no.
It's not okay. Dan's done saying no when he doesn't want to say anything but yes. "Thank you." He squeezes Duck's hand a little tighter, and Duck shrugs and smiles a little more.
Duck's house is small and crowded, crammed to the edges with all sorts of stuff, some of it nice, some of it total junk. Some of the doors are so low Dan has to duck to keep from hitting his head on the frame. They eat pizza for dinner in Duck's tiny kitchen, and then Dan stands in the middle of the den while Duck gets sheets and blankets and makes him up a bed on the couch.
They both stand in the middle of the room for a minute. Duck says, "I think you know where everything is now. Uh, I'm right down the hall if you need anything."
Dan nods.
Duck says, "Okay." He steps forward into Dan's space and kisses him, quick and soft just on the corner of his mouth, then steps back and smiles. "Good night."
Dan smiles back and Duck leaves.
Duck's couch is short; Dan's feet hang over the edge. It's completely dark and quiet in the den -- Dan strains to hear anything, any noises from that direction, but there's nothing. Dan closes his eyes and breathes through his nose and tries to convince himself to sleep.
He doesn't sleep, though. He's not tired. Eventually he gives up on the effort. He thinks about Duck in the other room, and his pulse quickens and his breath comes shorter.
Part of him says "No" and "This isn't who I want to be" and "This isn't what I want to want." But Dan isn't going to listen to that part anymore.
In the middle of the night he gets up and makes his way down the hall to Duck's room. It's a little brighter in there; moonlight comes in through the half-open blinds.
Dan sits on the edge of the mattress. Duck is asleep, curled up tightly on his side in the middle of the big bed. His shirt is off, and Dan can see the lines of his tattoo slipping under the light sheet.
Dan swallows hard. He lies down on his back, next to Duck. His feet don't reach the foot of the bed. He says, "Duck," very quietly, and Duck mumbles something incomprehensible. He reaches out and places his hand on Duck's arm, on Duck's skin, and Duck's eyes flutter open.
"Dan," Duck says, in a sleep-blurred voice. He smiles brightly, and Dan's heart skips a beat with relief.
"I wanted--" Dan says, but he doesn't finish the sentence. He stretches forward, instead, and kisses Duck's lips. Duck moves away, but it's just to settle into a more comfortable position; he brings his hand to Dan's face and kisses him back.
Dan doesn't know how long they kiss. It feels like a long time. Duck throws the sheet back at some point, and there's nothing between them but their boxers and Dan's t-shirt. Dan keeps his hands on Duck's bare back, clutching at his skin like a lifeline. Duck keeps one hand on Dan's face, his hair, his neck. His leg is thrown over Dan's, twining them together.
When Dan moves his hands down Duck's back, down to his waistband and under to his ass, Duck twists his head away to Dan's shoulder, taking deep heaving breaths. "Jesus, is this -- this is what you want?"
What he wants. That's always been the question. Dan stares down Duck's body in the dim light and thinks for a second. He says, "This is what I want," and as soon as the words leave his mouth he feels like maybe crying or maybe laughing or maybe shouting to the world. "I want this," he says again, and he pushes Duck onto his back and pulls the loose ratty boxer shorts down to his knees.
Duck's cock is long and warm and firm in his hand, and Dan strokes him slowly and gently. Duck's breaths are coming ragged and heavy now, but so are Dan's, and Dan feels lightheaded and giddy as they continue to kiss.
Duck brings his hand between them, rubbing at Dan's erection, and Dan shakes and twists and comes at the feeling of Duck's hand through the fabric. "Oh, God," Duck says, panting, resting his forehead against Dan's chest, and Dan swallows his embarrassment and tightens his grip on Duck, stroking faster, just the way -- he remembers how Duck liked it, back on the Watch, but this is different, this isn't like that at all, but the sound Duck makes when he comes is the same, low and fervent and choked-out and lovely.
This isn't the Watch, so Dan doesn't know what to do next. He doesn't want to clean up and go home. He doesn't have a home to go to. He doesn't have anywhere else he would want to be.
Duck rolls them over, pressing Dan halfway into the mattress. He's holding him, hugging him tightly, and Dan takes deep deep breaths and thinks about the feeling of Duck's arms around him, Duck's hand fumbling out to lace their fingers together. He clutches at Duck's hand as hard as he can, and listens to Duck's quiet "Shh, shh" noises and the rasp of their stubble rubbing against each other as Duck presses dry kisses to his face.
"I'm glad you're here," Duck whispers.
"I'm glad I'm here, too," Dan says. He doesn't know whether he means in Duck's bed, or Duck's house, or Wilby Island, or here in the world, alive still. But it doesn't matter, because he means it for all of them.
lalejandra is very dedicated to porn. And because of her (though, I might add, completely without her knowledge) I decided to challenge myself today into writing Dan and Duck and sex -- which I've been thinking been about a lot the past couple weeks, natch, and which is really difficult. Anyway, she is off having exciting real life adventures with other fans this weekend, I think, but this is dedicated to her anyway.Title: Tenderfoot
Fandom: Wilby Wonderful
Pairing: Dan/Duck
Summary: "He's smiling a little, but it's an odd smile. It's one of his smiles that he uses to say it's okay to say no."
Thank you to
visionshadows and nifra_idril for quick beta.About 7k.
Read at my site, or below.
*****
Dan doesn't want to go back to the motel after he gets released from the hospital -- it feels wrong, somehow, to go back to the place where he spent so much time planning his death, and he has the feeling the staff will be a little worried that he's just waiting for the opportunity to do it again. Still, though, he has nowhere else to go, so he's resigned himself to the option, until Duck looks down at their hands clasped together over the hospital sheets and offers him a place to stay.
"I don't know if you're already made arrangements or anything," Duck says. He's smiling a little, but it's an odd smile. It's one of his smiles that he uses to say it's okay to say no.
It's not okay. Dan's done saying no when he doesn't want to say anything but yes. "Thank you." He squeezes Duck's hand a little tighter, and Duck shrugs and smiles a little more.
Duck's house is small and crowded, crammed to the edges with all sorts of stuff, some of it nice, some of it total junk. Some of the doors are so low Dan has to duck to keep from hitting his head on the frame. They eat pizza for dinner in Duck's tiny kitchen, and then Dan stands in the middle of the den while Duck gets sheets and blankets and makes him up a bed on the couch.
They both stand in the middle of the room for a minute. Duck says, "I think you know where everything is now. Uh, I'm right down the hall if you need anything."
Dan nods.
Duck says, "Okay." He steps forward into Dan's space and kisses him, quick and soft just on the corner of his mouth, then steps back and smiles. "Good night."
Dan smiles back and Duck leaves.
Duck's couch is short; Dan's feet hang over the edge. It's completely dark and quiet in the den -- Dan strains to hear anything, any noises from that direction, but there's nothing. Dan closes his eyes and breathes through his nose and tries to convince himself to sleep.
He doesn't sleep, though. He's not tired. Eventually he gives up on the effort. He thinks about Duck in the other room, and his pulse quickens and his breath comes shorter.
Part of him says "No" and "This isn't who I want to be" and "This isn't what I want to want." But Dan isn't going to listen to that part anymore.
In the middle of the night he gets up and makes his way down the hall to Duck's room. It's a little brighter in there; moonlight comes in through the half-open blinds.
Dan sits on the edge of the mattress. Duck is asleep, curled up tightly on his side in the middle of the big bed. His shirt is off, and Dan can see the lines of his tattoo slipping under the light sheet.
Dan swallows hard. He lies down on his back, next to Duck. His feet don't reach the foot of the bed. He says, "Duck," very quietly, and Duck mumbles something incomprehensible. He reaches out and places his hand on Duck's arm, on Duck's skin, and Duck's eyes flutter open.
"Dan," Duck says, in a sleep-blurred voice. He smiles brightly, and Dan's heart skips a beat with relief.
"I wanted--" Dan says, but he doesn't finish the sentence. He stretches forward, instead, and kisses Duck's lips. Duck moves away, but it's just to settle into a more comfortable position; he brings his hand to Dan's face and kisses him back.
Dan doesn't know how long they kiss. It feels like a long time. Duck throws the sheet back at some point, and there's nothing between them but their boxers and Dan's t-shirt. Dan keeps his hands on Duck's bare back, clutching at his skin like a lifeline. Duck keeps one hand on Dan's face, his hair, his neck. His leg is thrown over Dan's, twining them together.
When Dan moves his hands down Duck's back, down to his waistband and under to his ass, Duck twists his head away to Dan's shoulder, taking deep heaving breaths. "Jesus, is this -- this is what you want?"
What he wants. That's always been the question. Dan stares down Duck's body in the dim light and thinks for a second. He says, "This is what I want," and as soon as the words leave his mouth he feels like maybe crying or maybe laughing or maybe shouting to the world. "I want this," he says again, and he pushes Duck onto his back and pulls the loose ratty boxer shorts down to his knees.
Duck's cock is long and warm and firm in his hand, and Dan strokes him slowly and gently. Duck's breaths are coming ragged and heavy now, but so are Dan's, and Dan feels lightheaded and giddy as they continue to kiss.
Duck brings his hand between them, rubbing at Dan's erection, and Dan shakes and twists and comes at the feeling of Duck's hand through the fabric. "Oh, God," Duck says, panting, resting his forehead against Dan's chest, and Dan swallows his embarrassment and tightens his grip on Duck, stroking faster, just the way -- he remembers how Duck liked it, back on the Watch, but this is different, this isn't like that at all, but the sound Duck makes when he comes is the same, low and fervent and choked-out and lovely.
This isn't the Watch, so Dan doesn't know what to do next. He doesn't want to clean up and go home. He doesn't have a home to go to. He doesn't have anywhere else he would want to be.
Duck rolls them over, pressing Dan halfway into the mattress. He's holding him, hugging him tightly, and Dan takes deep deep breaths and thinks about the feeling of Duck's arms around him, Duck's hand fumbling out to lace their fingers together. He clutches at Duck's hand as hard as he can, and listens to Duck's quiet "Shh, shh" noises and the rasp of their stubble rubbing against each other as Duck presses dry kisses to his face.
"I'm glad you're here," Duck whispers.
"I'm glad I'm here, too," Dan says. He doesn't know whether he means in Duck's bed, or Duck's house, or Wilby Island, or here in the world, alive still. But it doesn't matter, because he means it for all of them.
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![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
17/4/05 00:51 (UTC)This is exactly how it would be.
(no subject)
17/4/05 23:31 (UTC)(no subject)
17/4/05 00:51 (UTC)This was utterly lovely.
(no subject)
17/4/05 23:31 (UTC)Thanks!
(no subject)
17/4/05 00:53 (UTC)::purrrrrs::
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17/4/05 23:32 (UTC)(no subject)
17/4/05 01:12 (UTC)(no subject)
17/4/05 23:32 (UTC)(no subject)
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17/4/05 01:14 (UTC)(no subject)
17/4/05 23:32 (UTC)(no subject)
17/4/05 01:15 (UTC)(no subject)
17/4/05 23:32 (UTC)(no subject)
17/4/05 01:18 (UTC)(Really lovely, especially the last bit. I'm all verklempt.)
(no subject)
17/4/05 23:33 (UTC)(no subject)
17/4/05 01:21 (UTC)(no subject)
17/4/05 23:34 (UTC)Thank you for your comment!
(no subject)
17/4/05 02:02 (UTC)(no subject)
17/4/05 23:34 (UTC)(no subject)
17/4/05 02:46 (UTC)(no subject)
17/4/05 23:34 (UTC)(no subject)
17/4/05 04:13 (UTC)(no subject)
17/4/05 23:36 (UTC)That was somewhat blabby, but, yes. Thank you!
(no subject)
17/4/05 06:49 (UTC)(no subject)
17/4/05 23:36 (UTC)(no subject)
17/4/05 11:56 (UTC)(no subject)
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17/4/05 23:37 (UTC)(no subject)
17/4/05 13:59 (UTC)Oh! *loves*
(no subject)
17/4/05 23:37 (UTC)(no subject)
18/4/05 09:35 (UTC)(no subject)
18/4/05 10:55 (UTC)(no subject)
18/4/05 14:07 (UTC)dude, this is - you said you didn't think you could write sex for them! And look at you! you did it! SO GOOD TOO.
*twirls you*
this is beautiful and amazing and the end just ripped my heart out. SO good.
*loves*
(no subject)
18/4/05 14:32 (UTC)YAY.
(no subject)
23/4/05 03:41 (UTC)(no subject)
23/4/05 04:11 (UTC)