October and November 2010 Torquere Live Journal Prompt Fics

Prompt fics from Torquere Livejournal 1st Oct 2010

From Eden Winters:

Avalanche, Toboggan, frisky
Aaron, Stefano, but no Roger

Aaron and Stefano

“Do you think there’ll be an avalanche?” Aaron peered out of the window at the driving snow.

“Not that’ll affect us.” Stefano rolled his eyes. There was barely an inch of snow on the ground and the nearest mountain was probably fifty miles away, not that he’d measured the distance.

“You’re sure?” Aaron turned away from the blizzard to stare hopefully at Stefano.

“Positive. I don’t think Glasgow has had an avalanche in recorded history.”

“Oh. That’s good. Will we get snowed in?”

“Unlikely before Hogmanay.” Stefano fought to keep his tone even and his face straight. Aaron had grown up in South Africa and knew nothing about snow, ice or proper winters, but Stefano had trouble behaving when he got asked what were, to him, silly questions.

“Hogmanay? Oh, that’s New Year, isn’t it?”

“That it is, and many’s the Scotsman praying for a good blizzard on the night.” Stefano watched Aaron’s brow furrow as he tried to follow that comment. “If we get a good cover of snow then we can settle in for a few more drams because there’ll be plenty of time before we have to go back to work.”

“Oh. Is that what you do when you’re snowed in? Just sit back and drink?” Aaron finally moved away from the window.

“That’s one of the things.” Stefano grinned and caught Aaron’s hand to pull him down onto the couch.

“There are other things to do, then?” Aaron tipped his head to one side and looked at Stefano through his lowered eyelashes.

“Oh, there are plenty of other things to do when the snow’s deep.” Stefano leaned closer, but didn’t quite kiss Aaron.

“Mm?” Aaron asked swaying a fraction closer to Stefano.

“My favourite is the full body toboggan.”

“Like on the Winter Games?” Aaron let one hand move onto Stefano’s chest.

“I have my own version.” Stefano closed the short distance between their lips. “It does need a willing partner, though.”

“Willing?” Aaron murmured, his eyes fully closed and his voice distracted.

“Very willing,” Stefano agreed as he ghosted kisses along Aaron’s jaw. “It’s a good way to work off some energy when you can’t get out.”

“Is that what they mean when they say whiskey makes you frisky?” Aaron squirmed and tried not to giggle as Stefano mouthed the ticklish spot behind his ear.

“Maybe so,” Stefano was rapidly losing interest in talking. “You want to try a dry run? Just in case we get snowed in?”

“Dry doesn’t sound too good.”

“A dry run with well lubricated runners?” Stefano dug between the settee cushions and produced the lube he’d tucked away earlier.

“That might be a good idea. I wouldn’t want to be unprepared…”

“I was a good boy scout, I’ll look after you.”

“That’s what I was hoping you’d say.”


From Ali Wilde:

Penguin, rubber band, rock concert

Jacques and Zac

Jacques was watching a classic rock concert on one of the music channels when something hit him on the side of the head. A rubber band dropped onto the arm of his chair.

“Zac! Pack it in!”

“Pack what in?” Zac’s voice floated from the kitchen, dripping with innocence.

“I’m trying to watch something.”

“Something you’ve seen dozens of times already. Don’t know how you can stand watching it over and over. You want coffee?”

“If you’re making some. This is a classic concert, I’m not going to get bored with it.” Jacques folded his arms across his chest and concentrated on the television, but he kept the rubber band in one hand in case he needed it.

“Want a cheese sandwich to go with that?”

“Sure, if we’ve got enough bread left.”

“Just about. We’re going to have to go shopping.” Zac’s tone reflected the horror of that thought.

“Aren’t there any supermarkets left that haven’t refused to deliver?” Jacques was diverted from the music by the grim prospect of grocery shopping.

“No. Just because we’re on the fourth floor and the lift doesn’t work.” Zac grumbled. “They shouldn’t advertise home delivery if they won’t deliver.”

Jacques stopped listening to Zac’s complaints, he was preaching to the choir after all. Maybe they could go somewhere late when there weren’t too many other shoppers about, even if they did have to dodge the plague of shelf stackers and their cages.

“We’re just about out of everything.” Zac sat down carefully on the settee, sliding plates and mugs onto the coffee table.

“It can’t be that long since we went shopping.” Jacques grabbed his sandwich and eyed Zac’s plate. “How come you got a Penguin* and I didn’t?”

“It’s the last one. I was there and you weren’t.”

“We could share it,” Jacques suggested after a few mouthfuls of sandwich.

“No, we couldn’t.” Zac finished his sandwich and took a mouthful of coffee.

“Why not?” Jacques finished his own sandwich and slid closer to Zac. “Remember the last one we shared?”

“I do remember. That’s why we aren’t sharing this one.”

“But it was good. Well, apart from the crumbs. The chocolate was good,” Jacques protested sliding his hand slowly up Zac’s thigh.

“Food’s not the only thing we’re out of. We need more lube and condoms, too.”

“What? Why are you still sitting there? Come on, we need to go shopping.” Jacques was stuffing his feet into his shoes as he spoke. The television snapped off in the middle of a song.

“I was just finishing my coffee.”

Jacques voice floated back from the front door, “Hurry up!”

Zac swallowed the last of his coffee and smirked at the silent television. Take that classic rock, he thought.


*A Penguin is a chocolate coated chocolate (UK style) biscuit sandwich with a chocolate cream filling. Hope the inclusion of coffee and cheese make up for the lack of real pengys. 


From PD Singer:

Clank, installation, cross-threaded

Peter and Roger Willie

Peter leaned against Willie’s rolling toolbox – after making sure the wheels were braked, a lesson he had learned quickly when he started dating Willie – and watched his boyfriend work on the car. Or, more accurately, watched his boyfriend’s legs; the rest of Willie was hidden underneath the jacked up car.

Peter wasn’t sure what the current installation was and knew better than to ask. Willie would be happy to tell him, but reading the menu from the local Thai restaurant would be more informative to Peter, even if it was written in Thai.

Whatever it was that Willie was doing today sounded much like all the other mysterious things he did while hidden underneath the car. It involved the occasional clink, a lot of swearing and creative curses on the head of whatever unfortunate soul had last worked on that particular part.

Peter had never been that interested in oily hunks of metal. Cars were for getting from A to B with as little hassle as possible. He was making an effort for Willie’s sake, but, although he could tell a hammer from a wrench and was getting the hang of the difference between an flat screwdriver, a crosshead and a Phillips, when Willie started fuming about some idiot mixing AF and Whitworth nuts on the same car Peter was lost.

“Maybe it’s cross-threaded,” Peter offered after another round of inventive curses from beneath the car. Willie didn’t answer. Peter sighed silently. The only nuts he was interested in didn’t need a spanner to manipulate and wouldn’t get cross-threaded.

He eyed Willie’s position under the car again. Maybe it would be good to distract Willie at this point. Or maybe it wouldn’t. Only one way to find out. Peter crouched down between Willie’s bent knees.

“Did you say you were having problems with your nuts?” Peter asked reaching for the fly of Willie’s boiler suit. “Perhaps I can help. I’m good at some nuts.”

There was a clunk from under the car and Willie’s swearing turned into less coherent but much happier noises.


From Kate:

Karaoke, ferry, cheese-rolling

And… how about Asa and Tan?

Mara:You didn’t get enough of them during edits?

Asa and Tan

“How about England, Asa? There must be loads of things you’d like to see there.”

“England?” I blinked and thought about it. Tan was right there were a lot of places that I’d like to see. It would have to be a long trip, I couldn’t see enough in just a few days.


“Watch out!”

“I am watching out,” Tan snarled. “It’s not my fault they all drive like maniacs.”

“On the wrong side of the road,” I muttered. I knew I should’ve insisted on getting around by train and bus, even if that wouldn’t get me to a lot of the places I wanted to see. I could have got to the main tourist sites in one piece. Tan claimed that driving on the wrong side of the road wouldn’t be a problem and I was fool enough to believe him.

“Damn it.” Tan scowled through the windshield at the pub we were going to stay in tonight. “Why do they all have to have karaoke night when we arrive?”

I didn’t say anything. We had decided to do B&B in pubs rather than hotels because of the atmosphere and history. The charm of creaking floors and the smell of stale beer was wearing thin.

“Maybe we won’t be able to hear it in our room.” Tan climbed out of the car and then climbed back in to hit the trunk release. The charm of foreign cars had worn off the first day on the road.

I studied the timber framed building and tried to work out if any of it was authentic. It looked like a sixteenth century inn with seventeenth and eighteenth century additions to either side. The pub sign had me slightly worried. I had expected some sort of river and boat motif as the pub was called “The Ferry Inn”, but Charon and the Styx weren’t exactly comforting.

Our room turned out to be in a recent stable conversion, so hopefully far enough away from the karaoke. It didn’t have a four poster bed, but at least it was bigger than the normal British double.

“This’s supposed to be king size.” Tan dropped down on the bed and glared at the floor.

“It probably is British king size, remember that is only five foot wide.” We had had this discussion the second night on the road. Or I had had this discussion as I was the one who marched downstairs and complained.

That was at the cheese-rolling place, Cooper’s Hill, and it had been a disappointment all round. Nobody was rolling any cheeses, the locals weren’t very talkative, and the bed was uncomfortable. We were also still tired from the flight and very tense from a long drive on narrow roads without many signposts and loads of roundabouts that made no sense at all.

“Let’s get something to eat before the noise starts,” I suggested. I wasn’t used to Tan getting so down about things – that was usually my job, while he stayed optimistic.

“Good idea.” He stood up and wrapped his arms around me. “Then we can come back here and lock the door. I want to hear you singing for me tonight.”

“Maybe you’ll be the one singing.”

“How about we make it a duet?”

This relationship stuff was about compromise, and that sounded like a good compromise to me. I kissed him and let him know that I agreed, before pulling away and heading for the door.

Tan groped my ass on the way to the restaurant and I elbowed him in the ribs. I gave him my second best glare and hid a smile. Tan was looking happy again and I could see him searching for someone to interview, so that meant I was free to scowl at the menu in peace.


From Gabriel West:

Constellation, Train, Iron, Charcoal

And names…let’s see…
Lewis, Billy, Ira and Mike

Friday nights had settled into a routine and none of them had any complaints about it. Lewis and Billy finished work and rushed home to shower and change before heading to Ira and Mike’s place, only stopping for beer on the way.

Ira and Mike got the grill started and the steaks ready. Once Lewis and Billy arrived they all settled out on the back porch. Ira and Mark had found an old house on a big lot. It needed a lot of work, but it was a quiet and peaceful neighbourhood. The only sounds to disturb their Friday evenings were the birds in the surrounding mature trees and the occasional distant rumble of a train.

The steaks were grilled and eaten; the beer was drunk; the charcoal burned down to ashes; and the cast iron grill cooled to black. As the sun set and the stars appeared Mike would point out the different constellations to Billy.

Nobody was quite sure how the food and beer ritual expanded to include something more. Maybe it was something to do with the imported beer they tried. Maybe it was something to do with the way Mike had been standing behind Billy pointing out some distant galaxy. Or it could have been Ira leaning against Lewis as they watched Mike and Billy.

Who made the first move? Whose hand had strayed? Whose lips had kissed? Whose teeth had nibbled?

They didn’t know and it wasn’t really important anymore. As Friday night drifted into Saturday morning the four of them got closer and ended up sprawled together in Ira and Mike’s super king size bed.


From TC Blue:

Candle, Ricardo, alabaster, platypus, doll

Ricardo and Steve

Ricardo lit the candle and stepped back to check the table. It looked good. He straightened a fork and hurried back to the kitchen. This was the first time he had cooked for Steve and he wanted everything to be perfect.

After a quick check of the meal, Ricardo moved on to the bedroom. The bed was made with fresh alabaster white sheets – the expensive high thread count ones that felt like silk but weren’t quite as slippery. There was a time when Ricardo had used brightly coloured silk sheets for special occasions, but a few accidents where someone slipped out of bed at a crucial moment made him rethink the sensuous nature of silk.

The bedroom looked good. Ricardo left a bedside lamp on to give a subdued light and clearly show the lube and condoms arranged tastefully at its base. Candles in the bedroom had gone the way of the silk sheets and for similar reasons. It might be more discreet to keep the lube and condoms in the bedside drawer, but that had led to awkward moments in the past, too. Sticky was a word that shouldn’t be applied to the drawer that held the supplies.

Ricardo headed back to the kitchen for another check on the cooking. A stir here and a small adjustment there was all it needed for now. The apartment was as ready as it could be for Steve’s arrival. It was time for Ricardo to get himself ready.

Showered, shaved and dressed Ricardo had one last ritual before he would be ready for Steve. The living room was ready – subdued lighting, soft music, glasses ready for the wine cooling in the fridge, cushions on the couch plumped and arranged. Ricardo crossed to the shelves in a dark corner, Ken and GI Joe looked at him from the eye level shelf where they were sitting side by side. Joe had his arm around Ken. Ricardo gently separated the two and picked Ken up.

“Don’t let me down tonight, guys,” he said softly, before laying Ken face down in Joe’s lap. Ricardo knew that the doll couldn’t change expression, but in the shadows it looked like Joe was smirking. Ricardo couldn’t tell if Ken was still smiling.

Back to the kitchen and the wine could come out of the fridge. Ricardo gave the platypus postcard from his sister another assessing look. It was stuck on the fridge with a penis magnet, although the marsupial was the furthest thing from sexy. Ricardo debated once more on losing the card. It could stay, he decided for the tenth time, it showed that he had family who would send him postcards; and it was a reassurance that his sister was thousands of miles away in Australia and not likely to interrupt his evening.

The doorbell rang and Ricardo took a deep breath before going to let Steve in.



Prompt fics from Torquere Livejournal 22nd October

From  LJ user ali_wilde

Flake, penguin, Adam Lambert

Spike and Dexter

Dexter was working the Hook-a-duck stall, it was quieter in the evening when the little kids had gone home and he had to flirt hard to get the teenagers to part with their cash. The blow-up hammers were very popular, but most of the other stalls were offering them as consolation prizes as well.

Spike was on the Darts, and handing out hammers left, right and centre. It looked like Spike was going to win their takings competition tonight, not that Dexter minded – it was too much work sometimes to be the top.

It was close to closing time and Dexter was flirting with a girl who looked legal, but was more likely jailbait. She was trying to win the giant stuffed penguin, the top prize on the Hook-a-duck. Dexter was seriously considering putting the winning duck in the water, but thought he could get her to play, and pay, a couple more times.

She was hoping that he would give her the penguin, and maybe more. There was no chance of that, not that Dexter would tell her that. He wasn’t above playing on his looks and her daydreams though. He almost had her convinced that he was Adam Lambert’s brother.

He lost the thread of the banter when he spotted Spike leaning on a closed stall across the way. Spike smirked at him and very slowly peeled the bright yellow wrapper of his Flake half way down.

Dexter fumbled under the counter and dropped the winning duck into the water, quickly grabbing the girl’s pole and sliding the ring into the duck’s hook. There was no way he could talk while Spike did his party trick with the Flake.

Spike was only licking the crumbs off the sides of the Flake, but Dexter’s jeans were already getting tight. He shoved the penguin into the girl’s arms and started to shut down the stall, more attention on Spike than the routine task.

Spike had the tip of the Flake in his mouth now, his cheeks hollowing slightly as he sucked. Dexter stifled a groan and vaulted over the ducks to put up the shutters. He wouldn’t look. If he didn’t see Spike it wouldn’t affect him, would it?

Well, it wouldn’t have affected him if he couldn’t picture exactly what Spike would be doing to the chocolate. And didn’t have the vivid memories of what Spike’s talented mouth could do when wrapped around Dexter’s cock.

Finally, the stall was shut down. Dexter grabbed the takings and crossed the short distance to Spike. Spike grinned and slipped back into the closed stall. Dexter followed happily, the coconut shy was one of their favourite places when it was closed; the sacks of coconuts were quite versatile.


From  LJ user mariewig

Luscious, Sweetness, Explosion
Jason & David

“What are you doing?” Jason lifted his head from the pillow to frown at David, who was carrying a tray into the bedroom.

“I fancied a midnight snack.” David nudged the tray onto his bedside table and grinned at Jason.

“Oh?” Jason lifted his head higher to check the contents of the tray; fresh strawberries and a can of squirty cream. “Were you planning on sharing?”

“Sharing is essential.” David picked up a strawberry and waved it at Jason. “These are meant for sharing.” He brushed the strawberry over Jason’s lips.

Jason obediently opened his mouth and bit down on the luscious fruit. David lifted the bitten fruit away and drew it across Jason’s chest, circling one nipple thoughtfully.

Jason savoured the sweetness of the fruit in his mouth and the explosion of sensation from the cool juice on his chest being lapped up by David.

Jason wasn’t sure he was going to last through the entire bowl of strawberries or the cream, but that would mean that there would be plenty left to use on David.


From  LJ user andy_slayde

Yam, Yearbook, Yeasty, Yonder, Yowl

Jake & Elliot

Elliot regretted letting Jake look at his yearbook from college. It had seemed like a good idea at the time to claim cooking skills – he could make a bacon sandwich or beans on toast, which was more than his mates could do. But now Jake was expecting a home cooked meal and had volunteered to help, which meant that Elliot couldn’t buy ready-made food and pass it off as his own efforts.

Running off into the wild blue yonder was looking better and better as Elliot struggled to find something edible to do with the weird vegetables that Jake had found somewhere. Was a yam even a vegetable? But he still had a few days to pull something together.

At least he had been able to buy the bread rather than make it himself, the yeasty smell filled the kitchen as it warmed in the oven. The steaks were done and baked potatoes were easy enough. He hoped that baked yam was just as easy.

Elliot dished up the food, ignoring the angry yowls from outside. He had plans for Jake after they had eaten, and those plans did not include any interruptions from jealous felines.


From  LJ user neriah

Disdain, deliver, delicious, delightful, dogwatch

David and Doyle

Doyle hated pulling the dogwatch. It was dark, cold and boring. Doyle hated being bored. He couldn’t even order food, no one would deliver to the middle of the woods, so there wasn’t even the prospect of something greasy, unhealthy and delicious to stop his stomach complaining.

He unwrapped his cheese and pickle sandwich and eyed it with disdain. If he had been allowed a brazier he could have tried toasting it and had something warm to eat. The tomato soup in his flask was cold and his other flask of coffee was only lukewarm.

It didn’t make things any better to know that David was peacefully asleep in the delightful warmth of their quarters. If he was lucky Doyle would find the bed still warm when he got there, but David would be on duty and they wouldn’t see each other until early evening if they were lucky.

The only good thing was that they had two days off together in another three days. Doyle had plans for their time off which did not involve being cold in any way. His plans didn’t involve clothes either.

Detailing those plans helped keep him warm and awake through the rest of his watch.


From  LJ user writerliz

Coffee, ship, magnet, spoon

Maurice and Steven

Steven stirred his coffee slowly, his spoon clinking against the china. He was sitting at his usual table. Wasn’t it sad that he had a usual table? Wasn’t it really pathetic that he sat here every day watching the barista? Every day he promised himself that today would be the day that he asked Maurice out; and every day he couldn’t force the words out of his mouth when he was faced with Maurice at the counter. All he could ever do was order a coffee and say thank you when he got it.

At least he could watch Maurice from this table. Today Maurice was wearing a tight t-shirt with a pirate ship on it, there was some slogan written on it in an ornate font that Steven couldn’t make out. It was probably something along the lines of “Pirates do it with…”

Steven couldn’t think of any suitably witty ending to that, but he had never been good at words or jokes. Or asking anyone out. Maurice probably wasn’t gay anyway.

He tried to read his newspaper, but his eyes kept slipping back to Maurice. A customer got in the way and Steven looked away. His gaze settled on the collection of magnets on the screen at the side of the coffee area. There was a new magnet.

Steven blinked and stared at the new magnet not sure he wasn’t imagining things. The customer moved away and Steven automatically looked back at Maurice.

Maurice was looking right back. Maurice tapped the new magnetic rainbow to straighten it – and then deliberately winked at Steven.


From  LJ user meridae

Orange, cookies, filibuster

Dave and Ryan

“You know that this would have been called filibustering a hundred years or so ago?” Dave settled back in his chair and sipped his coffee, his bare feet propped up on the veranda railing as he studied the beach.

“I thought that was something politicians did.” Ryan contemplated his orange juice rather than his partner for this mission.

“It is now, but the original meaning was something much more active and interesting.”

“Mm.” Ryan knew he wasn’t required to say much. Dave liked to lecture and all he required was the occasional grunt or nod to keep going for hours. Ryan didn’t mind that either. Dave had a smooth, deep voice and a musical accent that just did it for Ryan.

Dave’s body wasn’t hard on the eyes either. Faintly tan skin covered some impressive muscles on long bones. Even his bare feet looked good – strong and lean. Ryan was happy to listen to Dave talk, providing he could look his fill at the same time.

It was a shame that he couldn’t act on the fantasies that Dave inspired. They had an important mission and anything physical would just complicate things. Maybe they could get together after it was finished, but Ryan couldn’t even ask until the mission was finished.

Until then he could listen and watch, but would have to rely on the cookies he had smuggled into the country to snuggle up with at night.

From LJ user tsuki no bara


Des and Sam

Des watched the SUV disappear down the road and sighed. His breath steamed in front of his face, as if he needed any reminder of how cold it was. It had taken both of them half an hour to clear the drive enough to get the SUV out of the garage.

Sam would be back with the supplies in an hour and those supplies would include the makings for hot chocolate, including marshmallows. There would be other important supplies that would be used after they had drunk the hot chocolate.

Des put his shovel back into use, clearing the snow from the paths around the house. He needed to get some more wood onto the porch and then check the fire. He should have time to grab a quick shower before Sam got back and be ready to warm him up in front of the fire after the hot chocolate.

If he dropped a few quilts and pillows in front of the fire they wouldn’t have to move for hours. Making love lazily in front of a roaring fire sounded like a good way to spend the afternoon. It almost made the chore of clearing the snow worth it.


Prompt fics from Torquere Livejournal November 2010

From  LJ user andy_slayde

The prompt letter is… F

Frolic, Fishnet, Forte, Fossil, Fumble

Oh, let’s keep Chuck, Hank and Bubba ;o)

Chuck, Hank and Bubba

“Are you sure we have to go to the stag party?” Hank asked tugging at his shirt that must have shrunk in the wash; he didn’t remember it being this tight or this short.

“It’ll be fun.” Chuck reassured him. “I heard a rumour that Jack was going to wear a  fishnet  top,” he added with a leer, thinking that the hot wash had worked wonders for Hank’s favourite shirt which now fit him like a second skin.

Hank smacked him on the shoulder which at least made him stop tugging at his shirt while he hit Chuck.

“You know this sort of thing isn’t my  forte .” Hank sighed. “It’s embarrassing that we are going to watch a neighbour  frolic  naked on the stage.”

“Stop being such an old  fossil .” Chuck laughed and nudged Hank. “Are you going to slip some money in Alejandro’s G-string or are you saving all your tips for Jack’s G-string?”

“Oh, shut up!” Hank flushed and made a performance out of fussing Bubba. He could just imagine how excruciatingly embarrassing the night was going to be, without thinking about tucking money into Alejandro’s undoubtedly skimpy costume.

What would happen if he should  fumble ? Would the threesome think he’d done it deliberately? Or would they think he wanted to join them? What would Chuck think? Or more to the point what would Chuck say?

“If I strip for you when we get home will you slip a little something in my G-string?” Chuck breathed in his ear.

“I’ll slip a big something in your G-string,” Hank promised trying to get into the right mood for the evening. Maybe he could convince Chuck that they didn’t need to go and see Alejandro’s assets after all.

Bubba gave his humans a disgruntled look and heaved a big sigh. They were distracted again. They always got distracted when they licked each other’s faces. They always got upset if he tried to join in or even if he just tried to give them a lick when they were apart.

Bubba wandered out to the kitchen to check his bowl. No food had magically appeared. The humans were going out; they had shoes on, but they were the shiny not-taking-Bubba-for-a-walk ones. He noticed that the door to the human’s bedroom was slightly ajar, maybe he could have a nice nap on their comfortable bed while they were out.


From LJ user meridae

Pay day, cup cakes, fly fishing!

Gordon and Rich

“How much longer is it to pay day?” Rich asked staring blankly at the kitchen calendar.

“Five days.” Gordon glumly tapped the day with the ring of green highlighter around it.

“And we haven’t got any money left?”

“None. We spent the last of it on those  cup cakes .”

“They were worth it though, weren’t they?” Rich smirked at Gordon as he remembered just how much licking it had taken to clean the icing off.

“Mm. Maybe we could get some more when we get paid.”

“Good plan.”

They stood together and stared at the calendar. It had been a secret Santa gift to Gordon last Christmas, but they had never figured out who had picked a fishing calendar for Gordon who didn’t even eat fish let alone catch them. This month’s picture of a man  fly fishing  was at least more scenic than last month’s prize catch close up of a dead fish.

“What are we going to eat until we’ve got some money?” Gordon asked.

“I fancy some meat,” Rich said wiggling his eyebrows at Gordon.

“Ah! We’re going to live on love for the next few days!” Gordon grabbed Rich’s hand and dragged him away from the kitchen.


From  LJ user pd_singer

alley cat, stretch, collaborate

Theodore and Edwin

Theo was ready for moon rise huddled in a blanket on the back porch. He hated winter, it was cold and wet and miserable. He hated winter full moons even more. He could feel the moon pulling at his blood even though it hadn’t risen yet. He pulled the blanket closer and shivered.

“Theodore?” Edwin called from the side of the house.


“Good I thought I might have been too late.” Edwin hurried to Theo’s side.

“You nearly were.” Theo shivered again and leaned into Edwin’s warmth for a moment.

“I’m sorry.” Edwin hugged Theo tight. “I know we agreed to  collaborate  at work to get you off early, but I should have been here sooner.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Theo sighed and reluctantly pulled away from Edwin. “I’m grateful that you stayed behind to tidy it all up so I could get away. You don’t have to hang around and watch, if you don’t want to.”

“I want to see. How can I say I’m okay with my boyfriend turning into an  alley cat  if I’ve never seen him do it?”

“You won’t have to wait much longer,” Theo muttered and shivered again. “The moon’s nearly here.” He wondered if he would still have a boyfriend in the morning. Edwin claimed he was okay with Theo shape shifting into a cat, but he hadn’t met Theo the cat and he hadn’t seen the shift. Yet.

Theo dropped the blanket and walked away from Edwin and the porch to stand in the middle of the lawn. The pull of the moon was making his skin itch and his bones ache. He breathed deeply and tried not to tense up. Fighting the change only made the pain worse as he had learned to his cost.

“Very soon,” he called to Edwin and dropped down onto all fours on the grass. The cold and the itching were almost unbearable. He moaned as he felt the moon edge over the horizon, only a few more minutes. His body convulsed as the change began. Theo concentrated on not screaming as his bones and muscles ripped themselves apart and reformed. It hurt. He never remembered just how much it hurt.

By the time the moon cleared the horizon Theo was standing on his four paws panting and shaking, the memory of the agony already fading as his nose twitched at the scents on the cold air. He took a couple of steps forward and let his body  stretch  settling his fur and joints.

“Theo? Here kitty, kitty?” Edwin’s voice sounded different to cat ears.

Theo blinked at his boyfriend and was surprised to see Edwin holding out a large, raw fish. Theo stalked toward the offering. Maybe Edwin really was okay with the shifting and maybe Theo would still have a boyfriend in the morning. But for now there was food on offer and no self-respecting cat would turn his nose up at his human’s first offering.


From  LJ user ali_wilde

My, Chemical, Romance

Gerard and Tommy-Joe

Gerard let himself into the apartment, his nose wrinkling at the  chemical  smell that hit him as soon as he came through the door. Tommy-Joe must have decided to dye his hair again. Gerard wondered what colour it would be this time; he had rather liked the blue it had been this morning and for the last couple of weeks.

“Tommy-Joe?” Gerard called as he hung his coat in the closet and kicked his shoes in after it.

“In the kitchen,” Tommy-Joe answered. “Did you get  my  magazine?”

“Yes, I got your magazine.” Gerard rolled his eyes and sighed. “I don’t even get a ‘hello’ or a kiss?”

“Of course,” Tommy-Joe grinned as he came out of the kitchen. “Hello, Gerard.” He pecked Gerard on the cheek and snatched the magazine from his hands.

“Wonderful, the  romance  is definitely going out of this relationship,” Gerard muttered trying to decide if he liked Tommy-Joe’s fire-engine red hair.

“Stop complaining,” Tommy-Joe called back over his shoulder. “Your coffee’s in the kitchen waiting for you.”

Gerard wandered into the kitchen to get his coffee and had to laugh when he saw the cream had been poured in carefully in the shape of a heart. Tommy-Joe was fond of doing little things like that. It made up for being neglected for the latest article about  ‘My Chemical Romance’ .

At least he knew that Tommy-Joe would be suitably grateful later, after he had finished the article. Gerard was grinning when he headed for the bathroom to take a shower. He wanted to be prepared for the gratitude.


The End


Disclaimer: All stories on this site are works of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. No part of any story found on this site may be reproduced or reposted in any form or by any means without written permission from the author.

© Copyright Mara Ismine 2011



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: