mockturtle (hellblazer06) wrote,
mockturtle
hellblazer06

  • Mood:

JP3 fic rated MA Mature adults only m/m slash PWP WIP

No infringement of the following characters and situations is intended.
Warning: Rated [MA] Mature Adults only. Contains adult themes
Title: a sex scene in search of a story
Series: Jurassic Park III
Status: WIP?
Author/pseudonym: Hellblazer
E-mail address: havisham06@yahoo.com
Rating: MA
Pairing: Alan Grant/Billy Brennan
Date: 18 June 2003
Disclaimers: The characters of Dr. Alan Grant, Billy Brennan, et al. are the
property of Universal Pictures, Amblin Entertainment and (in Alan's case)
Michael Crichton. No copyright infringement is intended or inferred.
Warnings: may contain slash, H/C, violence, m/m hanky panky, drug use, nudity, coarse language, horror, dodgy research, adult themes
Spoilers: Jurassic Park III
Summary: a sex scene in search of a story

He'd slept through the tossing and turning, he was just to it. So long as they slept in separate beds at opposites ends of their motel room it didn't bother him, it left him free to play in his own field of nightmares.

It was the muffled cry that had woken him. That animal sound of pain that had instantly brought him to his senses. He rolled on his side to listen to the creaks in the springs as the bed's occupant thrashed again, accompanied by a mewling whimper that not even he could ignore.

Swearing again that he was getting too old for this he pushed himself out of his nice warm bed, trod quietly across the generic carpet in bare feet to edge himself onto the bed slightly.

Grabbing two bare shoulders firmly he shook them, hard.

"Billy! Wake up!" he hissed.

Billy snapped awake, gasping for a breath, heart racing. There was no need to ask him what he'd been dreaming about, it was there in his eyes.

He smoothed the sweat stained face and murmured that it was just a dream, that they were safe now, that it was all over.

His duty done he tried to move away but a firm hand grabbed his wrist hard and held him there. His eyes tracked from the hand that had locked around him to the eyes, those wild frightened eyes, and he knew what Billy wanted, what Billy needed.

He sighed and slipped himself under the covers, wrapping himself around Billy, feeling him tremble quietly, soothing and petting as though trying to calm any frightened animal. Usually it was enough and Billy would slip off to sleep in his arms, but not tonight. The dream had ripped through Billy and he needed to touch, he needed to feel he was still alive.

Billy's mouth opened his and the first stroke of tongue lit the fire he tried to ignore most days, that he wanted Billy, that he needed Billy, that he couldn't touch him enough as he would like. The gnawing hunger never left him and here, under the cover of darkness, he gave into it, a fierce animal scrabbling rutting, a stark demonstration of beating hearts and burning skin that they were still alive. They struggled to hold and touch and feel their hunger, stripped of anything but raw emotion. Billy wrapped around him and he was inside Billy and they rocked together, faster and harder and not hearing the steady creak of the bed beneath the roar of blood in their ears.

He covered Billy's mouth with his hand, not wanting him to cry out, and with eyes locked and one, two, three final deep and rolling thrusts he held Billy so tight for a moment, then relaxed down on top of him, feeling Billy pump warm sticky heat against his stomach.

He smiled, curling against Billy, happy to be all warm and sticky, gently nuzzling and kissing his face. Billy watched him now, with eyes filled with love and relief now, replacing the wild fear that had raced through him. Tenderly he kissed his young love on the brow, closing those eyes, and easing him down into a dreamless, sated sleep, still curled together.

He enjoyed this, sleeping with Billy in his arms, breathing in his scents, tasting his sweat. Only a sense of decorum and things left unspoken kept a distance between them. His life should have told him to treasure the things he had and to hold them close, and he tried to, as much as possible. The social mores and violent of his own species, that was the only reason to keep Billy at arms reach, and only as much as he felt he needed to. Right now, he didn't care. Right now he wanted nothing more than to feel the soft silk strands of Billy's hair tickle his cheek and to fall asleep, breathing in deep the scents of his lover, listening to his heartbeat, beats that grew louder and deeper into dreadful footsteps as he slipped down into his own dreams of that hellish place.


Subscribe

  • My tweets

    Mon, 13:44: RT @ MrTimDunn: Wouldn’t the world be such a more interesting place - if only more of us felt able to ask & show & tell…

  • My tweets

    Sun, 18:59: RT @ met_greekroman: Glass beaker, 1st half of 1st century A.D. https://t.co/FyfztfkVBb #metmuseum #themet

  • My tweets

    Sat, 13:16: RT @ CSIRO: Yes, it's true what they say, better the (thorny) devil you know. 😈 The sharp spine of the thorny devil makes it…

  • Post a new comment

    Error

    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

  • 4 comments