Richard Book is Innocent (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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tweedandtinsel2010-12-04 07:33 pm
oxfordtweed) wrote in tweedandtinsel2010-12-04 07:33 pm
Whiskey Sour
Title: Whiskey Sour
Fandom: Hot Fuzz
Character/s:Danny/Nicholas
Word Count (chapter/total): 1000
Rating: NC-17
Summary/Warnings: Another one for the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
pornathlon
This is, admittedly, the prompt, as much as it is this song. Only without a table dancer, and with more porn (this is not the version I have. This one seems less finished than mine, but the lyrics are more audible in this one).
He arrived in from London tired, high-strung, and unable to stop thinking. He’s still always thinking, but at least he’s sleeping now, and is capable of sitting still for longer than five minutes at a time.
Despite what anyone says, he’s a good police officer. Great, even. At first, Danny thought it had been weird that he’d sacrifice sleeping in and breakfast for black shorts and trainers, but the result is worth it. They’re not often chasing anything, aside from a stray swan, but that’s not the part that’s worth it.
It’s seeing that body, unclothed and slick with sweat that’s worth it. He could worship that body; firm skin, toned muscles, and every tiny little imperfection. At first, he thought bodies like this only existed in movies, belonging to the hero that had only minutes to rescue everyone in the building.
They spend nearly every waking moment together, at work, on one of their sofas, in bed – usually Nicholas’, because although his television is smaller, the cottage he’s in was furnished with a small family in mind, so his bed is made for two people.
And the sex is amazing. Nicholas makes the best noises when he’s aroused and needing more. He whines and groans, and almost – although, he can never quite bring himself to go all the way with it – begs for more, his hips grinding desperately against Danny.
His fingers tremble desperately at Danny’s back, scrambling for purchase as he’s nearly split in two, strong hands supporting him by his thighs as his back is pressed against the cold wall. When he comes, it’s explosive, his head rocking back and his mouth open, those same desperate, needy sounds escaping from between perfect white teeth.
Occasionally, Nicholas still works late. It’s the nature of the job, so Danny doesn’t mind. He’ll stay late with him, long after the Andes have left and Tony’s gone home to his family. Mostly, he’s content to sit quietly and patiently while Nicholas finishes his reports. Sometimes, he has other ideas about how the evening should be spent, however. The space under Nicholas’ desk means Danny can situate himself quite comfortably between the inspector’s legs, and the desk is high enough that should Sergeant(s) Turner need an unplanned word, there’s no evidence that Nicholas’ trousers are unbuttoned, un zipped, and Danny teasing at the exposed cock, loving the way Nicholas tries not to let his breath hitch as he’s talking to the sergeant.
As soon as the office door is shut again, Danny takes Nicholas’ cock in his mouth, groomed gingery pubic hair brushing lightly against his lips and chin. He’s skilled at this, and doesn’t need time to work his gag reflex down.
Looking up through his eyelashes, he can see Nicholas arch his back, knuckles white as he grips tightly the edges of his chair. He tries not to buck his hips, but every time, his self-restraint fades, and he’s desperately fucking Danny’s mouth.
How Turner doesn’t hear the noises, Danny will never figure out.
Then there are the times in the locker room, after they’ve both stayed late, and Nicholas is still slightly flushed from having come all over Danny’s mouth and face. It starts with light touches, fingers lightly tracing over faint scars and drawing tender circles over that hard, toned stomach. Eventually, his hands dip below Nicholas’ waistband, teasing the cock which hasn’t had the chance to sort itself out and go completely soft yet, and within moments, it’s hard again, and Nicholas his practically thrusting himself into Danny’s hand.
Trousers come down in short time, pooled around ankles and over boots that aren’t exactly regulation, but home office isn’t sending supplies very regularly.
Nicholas’ chest is pressed against the locker, his arms spread out for balance as he’s fucked fast and hard. He won’t touch his own cock when Danny fucks him. He wants Danny, and only Danny, to get him off, and that’s exactly what Danny is good at. He waits, until he feels like he’s about ready to pop, before his hand feels around Nicholas’ front, taking the swollen member in his fingers.
You don’t squeeze if you’re trying to get someone off. Squeezing has the opposite effect. He wraps his fingers around Nicholas’ shaft, applying just enough pressure for him to be able to feel it. The motions are all in the wrist, fluid, but out of time with the uncontrolled bucking of his own hips.
Like this is the closest they ever get to finishing together, but they’re always off, just by a little bit. They rest against the soiled lockers, sweat and cum and spit smearing the locker that’s unfortunate enough to be next to Nicholas’. Pressed between the cold steel, and Danny chest, Nicholas breathes heavily. It’s during these moments that Danny ever sees him out of breath, his face red and his eyes half-closed.
There are tender moments, as well. Staying lazily in bed until one in the afternoon, sheets tacked over the window so the sunlight coming in isn’t quite as harsh. Nicholas has very strict rules about his bedroom. No telly, no food, no drinks. But Danny doesn’t mind, because when they’re in the bedroom, Nicholas focuses all of his attention on him; fingers gently caressing over skin and soft kisses that feel cold as soon as Nicholas’ lips have lost contact.
This is what goes through Danny’s mind every day, twice, as he watches Nicholas change in the locker room. He stands casually, his shirt unbuttoned as he fixes up his belt and applies deodorant. Nicholas is talking, a light smile touching the sides of his mouth.
The plan is the same as it is every night. They’ll go to the pub, drink what could probably be considered a few too many, have a good laugh, and Nicholas will go flirt with Mr. Sanders’ girl, because he’s just so damn unforgivably straight.
Fandom: Hot Fuzz
Character/s:Danny/Nicholas
Word Count (chapter/total): 1000
Rating: NC-17
Summary/Warnings: Another one for the
pornathlonThis is, admittedly, the prompt, as much as it is this song. Only without a table dancer, and with more porn (this is not the version I have. This one seems less finished than mine, but the lyrics are more audible in this one).
He arrived in from London tired, high-strung, and unable to stop thinking. He’s still always thinking, but at least he’s sleeping now, and is capable of sitting still for longer than five minutes at a time.
Despite what anyone says, he’s a good police officer. Great, even. At first, Danny thought it had been weird that he’d sacrifice sleeping in and breakfast for black shorts and trainers, but the result is worth it. They’re not often chasing anything, aside from a stray swan, but that’s not the part that’s worth it.
It’s seeing that body, unclothed and slick with sweat that’s worth it. He could worship that body; firm skin, toned muscles, and every tiny little imperfection. At first, he thought bodies like this only existed in movies, belonging to the hero that had only minutes to rescue everyone in the building.
They spend nearly every waking moment together, at work, on one of their sofas, in bed – usually Nicholas’, because although his television is smaller, the cottage he’s in was furnished with a small family in mind, so his bed is made for two people.
And the sex is amazing. Nicholas makes the best noises when he’s aroused and needing more. He whines and groans, and almost – although, he can never quite bring himself to go all the way with it – begs for more, his hips grinding desperately against Danny.
His fingers tremble desperately at Danny’s back, scrambling for purchase as he’s nearly split in two, strong hands supporting him by his thighs as his back is pressed against the cold wall. When he comes, it’s explosive, his head rocking back and his mouth open, those same desperate, needy sounds escaping from between perfect white teeth.
Occasionally, Nicholas still works late. It’s the nature of the job, so Danny doesn’t mind. He’ll stay late with him, long after the Andes have left and Tony’s gone home to his family. Mostly, he’s content to sit quietly and patiently while Nicholas finishes his reports. Sometimes, he has other ideas about how the evening should be spent, however. The space under Nicholas’ desk means Danny can situate himself quite comfortably between the inspector’s legs, and the desk is high enough that should Sergeant(s) Turner need an unplanned word, there’s no evidence that Nicholas’ trousers are unbuttoned, un zipped, and Danny teasing at the exposed cock, loving the way Nicholas tries not to let his breath hitch as he’s talking to the sergeant.
As soon as the office door is shut again, Danny takes Nicholas’ cock in his mouth, groomed gingery pubic hair brushing lightly against his lips and chin. He’s skilled at this, and doesn’t need time to work his gag reflex down.
Looking up through his eyelashes, he can see Nicholas arch his back, knuckles white as he grips tightly the edges of his chair. He tries not to buck his hips, but every time, his self-restraint fades, and he’s desperately fucking Danny’s mouth.
How Turner doesn’t hear the noises, Danny will never figure out.
Then there are the times in the locker room, after they’ve both stayed late, and Nicholas is still slightly flushed from having come all over Danny’s mouth and face. It starts with light touches, fingers lightly tracing over faint scars and drawing tender circles over that hard, toned stomach. Eventually, his hands dip below Nicholas’ waistband, teasing the cock which hasn’t had the chance to sort itself out and go completely soft yet, and within moments, it’s hard again, and Nicholas his practically thrusting himself into Danny’s hand.
Trousers come down in short time, pooled around ankles and over boots that aren’t exactly regulation, but home office isn’t sending supplies very regularly.
Nicholas’ chest is pressed against the locker, his arms spread out for balance as he’s fucked fast and hard. He won’t touch his own cock when Danny fucks him. He wants Danny, and only Danny, to get him off, and that’s exactly what Danny is good at. He waits, until he feels like he’s about ready to pop, before his hand feels around Nicholas’ front, taking the swollen member in his fingers.
You don’t squeeze if you’re trying to get someone off. Squeezing has the opposite effect. He wraps his fingers around Nicholas’ shaft, applying just enough pressure for him to be able to feel it. The motions are all in the wrist, fluid, but out of time with the uncontrolled bucking of his own hips.
Like this is the closest they ever get to finishing together, but they’re always off, just by a little bit. They rest against the soiled lockers, sweat and cum and spit smearing the locker that’s unfortunate enough to be next to Nicholas’. Pressed between the cold steel, and Danny chest, Nicholas breathes heavily. It’s during these moments that Danny ever sees him out of breath, his face red and his eyes half-closed.
There are tender moments, as well. Staying lazily in bed until one in the afternoon, sheets tacked over the window so the sunlight coming in isn’t quite as harsh. Nicholas has very strict rules about his bedroom. No telly, no food, no drinks. But Danny doesn’t mind, because when they’re in the bedroom, Nicholas focuses all of his attention on him; fingers gently caressing over skin and soft kisses that feel cold as soon as Nicholas’ lips have lost contact.
This is what goes through Danny’s mind every day, twice, as he watches Nicholas change in the locker room. He stands casually, his shirt unbuttoned as he fixes up his belt and applies deodorant. Nicholas is talking, a light smile touching the sides of his mouth.
The plan is the same as it is every night. They’ll go to the pub, drink what could probably be considered a few too many, have a good laugh, and Nicholas will go flirt with Mr. Sanders’ girl, because he’s just so damn unforgivably straight.