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delphynn.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fellowshippers2003-07-26 08:28 am
delphynn.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2003-07-26 08:28 am
(no subject)
This is a Karl Urban/Craig Parker pairing.
It was also my very first ficlet, encouraged by the lovely![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jennandanica who also gave me a journal code. :)
Rated R for language, implied m/m and implied bdsm.
This was originally posted in my journal here and at journalfen.
“Craig, God damn it, scream or something, will you?” Karl’s voice was strained, almost as if he wanted to cry himself.
Craig groaned very faintly but otherwise made not so much as a sound. White faced and sweating, he kept perfectly, excruciatingly still except for the grip on Karl’s arm that was promising to leave livid black fingerprints on the tanned skin.
The man with the needle stepped back from between Craig’s legs, casting a worried glance up from one man to the other. “Hey, you know, we don’t have to do this all at once.” He was a professional, and cocking his head to one side; he had to admit that the work he’d done so far was going to look outstanding once the swelling went down. A faint smirk crossed his face and quickly was wiped away. The customer wasn’t in any condition to care, and neither was his lover, but it was going to feel outstanding when the swelling went down too.
“Just do it, will you?” Karl snarled it at the needle wielder with another anxious glance at Craig. Guilt was stabbing him in the gut and twisting like barbed wire wrapped knives. He should have known that his lover wasn’t kidding. Craig never welshed on a bet.
Craig kept a punishing death grip on Karl’s arm and tried to concentrate. He’d honestly expected to drop into headspace at some point, expected the adrenalin rush to counter some of the pain. Apparently he wasn’t that lucky. Concentrate, you bastard, he ordered himself. A gesture of his free hand, uncontrolled and shaky, flipped off the man in the rubber gloves then beckoned him to finish the job. Dizzily he watched the shining needle come closer, closer and then shove through his skin. Black spots danced in front of his eyes and he let out another very faint groan.
“Craig, you’ve paid up, okay? I’m satisfied for fuck’s sake.” Karl protested more insistently. He was finding it difficult watching someone else inflict pain on Craig. Especially when it was so obvious there was no pleasure mixed with it.
Craig almost found that funny in some distant corner of his mind. Mr. Live Wire there was saying he’d had enough. “Screw you.” It took an effort to make that audible, growled at Karl. There was one more to go, goddamn it and he wasn’t going to weasel out now.
Karl opened his mouth and shut it again. Craig felt fleetingly smug about that before he was distracted by another red stab of pain between sprawled thighs. A sudden whirl of intense relief and yes, pleasure boiled up as the man in the gloves stepped back and displayed his handiwork. He shivered and released his grip on Karl’s arm, only to slide down to lace his fingers with those of his friend and lover.
“Help me do up, eh?” It came out a croak, weak and ridiculously helpless sounding.
Karl was white as a sheet and sweating, but he rendered up a smile for Craig. “Sure.” Simply that, reaching to help Craig tug the simple cotton pants he’d worn for this little adventure. He paused though with a glance at Craig, delicately touching the row of silver decorations newly applied to Craig’s flesh. “This looks, amazing.” Breathed softly as he looks up at Craig on the table.
“Yeah, well it feels like the nine hells right now.” A shaky grin holds arrogance at its corners as Craig looked back at Karl. “It’s going to feel amazing the next time I get you on your hands and knees though.”
He reached down and together they got him decently covered, his movements careful as he slid off the table. “Right now, I want ice and drugs. I think I still have vicodin from when I broke my wrist.”
Karl was smirking, concealing relief that Craig was well enough to make smart remarks. “Yeah, yeah, that’s what you think. As soon as you’re healed up, I’m going to be making you lick my boots like the little fuck toy you are.” Growled low for Craigs’s ear as he wrapped an arm around his waist and eased him out towards the door. Thank God they’d already paid and been lectured about after care before hand.
“Wanna bet?” Craig purred back.
Warning: Disgusting Pimpage and Shameless Attention Whoredom
If anyone is even a smidge interested, they can find my Est character at
http://www.journalfen.net/~craig_parker
It was also my very first ficlet, encouraged by the lovely
jennandanica who also gave me a journal code. :)Rated R for language, implied m/m and implied bdsm.
This was originally posted in my journal here and at journalfen.
“Craig, God damn it, scream or something, will you?” Karl’s voice was strained, almost as if he wanted to cry himself.
Craig groaned very faintly but otherwise made not so much as a sound. White faced and sweating, he kept perfectly, excruciatingly still except for the grip on Karl’s arm that was promising to leave livid black fingerprints on the tanned skin.
The man with the needle stepped back from between Craig’s legs, casting a worried glance up from one man to the other. “Hey, you know, we don’t have to do this all at once.” He was a professional, and cocking his head to one side; he had to admit that the work he’d done so far was going to look outstanding once the swelling went down. A faint smirk crossed his face and quickly was wiped away. The customer wasn’t in any condition to care, and neither was his lover, but it was going to feel outstanding when the swelling went down too.
“Just do it, will you?” Karl snarled it at the needle wielder with another anxious glance at Craig. Guilt was stabbing him in the gut and twisting like barbed wire wrapped knives. He should have known that his lover wasn’t kidding. Craig never welshed on a bet.
Craig kept a punishing death grip on Karl’s arm and tried to concentrate. He’d honestly expected to drop into headspace at some point, expected the adrenalin rush to counter some of the pain. Apparently he wasn’t that lucky. Concentrate, you bastard, he ordered himself. A gesture of his free hand, uncontrolled and shaky, flipped off the man in the rubber gloves then beckoned him to finish the job. Dizzily he watched the shining needle come closer, closer and then shove through his skin. Black spots danced in front of his eyes and he let out another very faint groan.
“Craig, you’ve paid up, okay? I’m satisfied for fuck’s sake.” Karl protested more insistently. He was finding it difficult watching someone else inflict pain on Craig. Especially when it was so obvious there was no pleasure mixed with it.
Craig almost found that funny in some distant corner of his mind. Mr. Live Wire there was saying he’d had enough. “Screw you.” It took an effort to make that audible, growled at Karl. There was one more to go, goddamn it and he wasn’t going to weasel out now.
Karl opened his mouth and shut it again. Craig felt fleetingly smug about that before he was distracted by another red stab of pain between sprawled thighs. A sudden whirl of intense relief and yes, pleasure boiled up as the man in the gloves stepped back and displayed his handiwork. He shivered and released his grip on Karl’s arm, only to slide down to lace his fingers with those of his friend and lover.
“Help me do up, eh?” It came out a croak, weak and ridiculously helpless sounding.
Karl was white as a sheet and sweating, but he rendered up a smile for Craig. “Sure.” Simply that, reaching to help Craig tug the simple cotton pants he’d worn for this little adventure. He paused though with a glance at Craig, delicately touching the row of silver decorations newly applied to Craig’s flesh. “This looks, amazing.” Breathed softly as he looks up at Craig on the table.
“Yeah, well it feels like the nine hells right now.” A shaky grin holds arrogance at its corners as Craig looked back at Karl. “It’s going to feel amazing the next time I get you on your hands and knees though.”
He reached down and together they got him decently covered, his movements careful as he slid off the table. “Right now, I want ice and drugs. I think I still have vicodin from when I broke my wrist.”
Karl was smirking, concealing relief that Craig was well enough to make smart remarks. “Yeah, yeah, that’s what you think. As soon as you’re healed up, I’m going to be making you lick my boots like the little fuck toy you are.” Growled low for Craigs’s ear as he wrapped an arm around his waist and eased him out towards the door. Thank God they’d already paid and been lectured about after care before hand.
“Wanna bet?” Craig purred back.
Warning: Disgusting Pimpage and Shameless Attention Whoredom
If anyone is even a smidge interested, they can find my Est character at
http://www.journalfen.net/~craig_parker
no subject