Cheap Dozen; Eureka snippets
Jan. 28th, 2007 03:59 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sparklebutchTitle: Cheap Dozen
Fandom: Eureka
Warnings: Het, slash, and sci-fi.
Disclaimer: It's pretty obvious I don't own anything. Should TPTB want me to work for them, all they need to do is ask.
Summary: 12 snippets by word prompts from a table of 100*
001. Tired
He's tired, sitting head in hands at his desk, all too aware of the muscles around his eyes. He's been working on this problem for three nights now, and a tiny bit of knowledge from the back of his mind pipes at him that this is around the point of sleeplessness where an average human being cracks. His wife calls him from the bedroom; it's two in the morning, she woke and found that he's still not there with her. In a sleepy voice she tells him the problem would still be there in the morning, that he needs his sleep. He agrees with that assessment. Still he stays at his desk.
Dawn peers through his window. The burning sensation in his eyes refuses to dissipate when he blinks, or even when he takes the time to douse his face in cold water. In less than an hour his wife will wake and start her day. He's still missing something. It's troubling him. He won't rest until he solves it.
002. Back Alley
This was... so unlike him. Some dark, dank alley in the big city, head thrown back against the brick wall, and he's still married, he's still married and still wearing the ring. Allison's ring. The man blowing him doesn't seem to mind, just takes his dick into a warm wet paradise. Nathan is sometimes slow on the uptake. He was propositioned and didn't even know it until the man grinned and shook his head and spelled it out for him. And he's been away from home for so long, and he's been alone and busy with work, and the first night he went out to a bar, just for a drink, this happens. This - he looks up at the tall buildings, a light in some windows but no one looking his way, no one in the large anonymous city cares that he's getting his dick sucked, no one except him.
He's never been with a man before.
He thinks about Allison.
And then he doesn't think about anything, just about coming, just about pleasure coursing through him, just about his dick in the man's mouth, his balls in the man's hand. Fuck.
Afterwards, he stays in the alley for a little while. Catches his breath. Zips up. Straightens his tie.
When he leaves, he looks just as cool and collected as he did an hour ago.
003. Sunrise
He's seen too many sunrises from his office.
"Why are you here? It's late," he'd say, and she'd sigh and say "No, it's actually early," and he'd look up and see that the next day already started.
But sometimes he notices when the day begins. Leaves his work for a few minutes, stands by the window and spends time watching the sky turn pink on the horizon, then pale grey before turning into blue. If anyone asks, he'll fiercely deny that it gives him peace. It's just a big ball of helium and hydrogen. Useful hydrogen. He's a scientist.
Deep inside him, somewhere dormant, somewhere he doesn't really know exists, an ancient pagan lifts his head and sings glory hallelujah to the rising sun, and imprinted within Stark's cellular memory there are dances to hail it.
004. Late
"You're late," he tells Allison.
"You're never late," Carter says, a worried look on his face.
He has a strong sense of deja-vu. But now is not the time to wonder where and when this exchange could've happened before*. Now is the time to panic. Or be happy?
"It's only a week. It could be stress," she says, and he can see she's not sure either whether to panic or be happy. Carter, on the other hand, can't keep the stupid grin off his face.
"So," Stark asks, because no one else does and he can't wait, "which one of us do you think is the father?"
Allison smiles and blushes, and he thinks how beautiful she is with the extra colour in her cheeks. She shrugs.
He finds that he doesn't care that much anymore.
[*Ep: Purple Haze]
005. Son
He's been a sort of not-really father to Kevin. He was there with Allison, and helped the boy whenever he could, worked with him. But he hasn't seen him since he left for DC, and when he returned, he didn't expect Kevin to run to him, or show any emotion. In a way, it was a relief. Stark himself was not too good at these moments.
He never even thought of the term 'son' until Carter said it. Said, "I'm a father, of course I understand", and Stark thought about Callister and felt his heart twinge. He'd never have considered it, not in a million years. Callister was a lot more than a machine; he created him, brought him, worked with him... helped him... and couldn't bear to see him die. He still isn't sure that "son" is the correct term.
He never really was a father. He never really was a son.
His parents were too much like him.
Stark picks up the telephone and dials their number.
006. Hot
So hot today. So damn hot. Stupid global warming.
He had to announce Casual Wednesday. Not always, just today. Until this heat wave lets up. He hates coming to work in short sleeves. Had no choice though. So hot. The entire building is air-conditioned, but with the power surges - again, due to the heat - he had to direct most of the cooling to areas of the building that needed to stay cool to avoid explosion. Office spaces had to suffer. Most levels have no windows. So. Damn. Hot.
"Nathan."
Allison. He turns around in his chair.
He doesn't usually notice what she's wearing to work, but this time he does. It's a... shimmering dress, something relatively modest but still miles away from her business suit. It's sleeveless. It's just barely down to her knees. It's light, and it clings to her form. She's gorgeous. She's been walking around the building all day, and the heat is getting to her. He follows a tiny bead of sweat as it rolls down her exposed throat to her cleavage, disappearing between her perfect breasts.
Damn, she's hot.
007. Friend
When he first met sheriff Carter, Nathan considered him a rival. Not a very dangerous one, but a rival nonetheless, for Allison's affections, and later for control in Eureka. As time progressed, he learned to respect the man, and now considered him a slightly more worthy rival.
Owing his life to the man was... humbling. And Nathan hates humble.
But as time goes by, things change. As he's sitting with Carter in his house having a cold one, coming to terms with everything that's happened and everything that is still to come...
He can almost call the sheriff a friend.
[100]
008. Floor
How he ended up in this position, Stark isn't sure. There was an argument with Carter, which is the usual, over yet another crisis. And then there was an explosion. Or possibly an implosion, he's not sure yet, didn't have a chance to look into it because he was too busy flying backwards, ending up on his back on the floor, with an armful of Carter.
"Hey." No reply. There's a quick semblance of something that might be worry flashing through him. The man on top of him is not responding. "Hey. Carter. Jack."
"Hrrmph."
Well, at least he's alive. Unconscious, but that's not really important. Heavy, and that kinda is.
"Get off me."
Carter makes another of these incoherent noises, and instead of moving away from Stark, he just slithers up on him, making himself comfortable. And making Stark very, very uncomfortable.
"Are you going to get off me?"
"N'a minute," Carter mumbles, and Stark gets a brief but strong feel of what it must've been like for Allison, the time he supposedly fell asleep. Of course, he wasn't on top of her at the time, so at least she wasn't squashed. Around that stage in his line of thought he decides that enough is enough, and that uncomfortable just reached the point of no return. He pushes Carter off him.
Carter opens his eyes. "What did I just miss?"
"We had wild hot sex on the floor," Stark says matter-of-fact. Carter gawks, and Stark finds it oddly reassuring. "You fell asleep on me," he adds, before jumping to his feet and walking away. He resists the urge to look back just to see Carter's face.
009. Cheat
He didn't cheat on her. Despite their problems, and the year spent apart - a year! - he never cheated on her. And despite her flirting, despite what he came back to, he was positive Allison never cheated on him.
He worked too much. He wasn't... available, whatever that meant. She demanded more from him than he could give. He wasn't what she wanted. She wasn't what he could bear. But this one thing, he knew they never did to each other, never could. He asked, and he suspected, and he badgered and he hated the thought and he examined her and Jack's behaviour closely; but he never really believed they slept together... Until after she served him the papers.
010. Think
Thinking; it's what he does most. It's what he does best. It's what he does more than he should, according to some. It's what defines him.
It's who he is.
Thinking about the Artifact, or any other project currently in the works. Thinking about the mysteries of life. Thinking about angles to get more funding, and about the practical aspects of science - what Henry didn't want to think about. He thinks about so many things.
"Don't think. Just feel," she tried to tell him. He thought about it, sitting alone in his DC apartment. It didn't make any sense.
[100]
045. Animal
The injection robbed him of his mind; left him nothing but the human animal he is. The last thing he remembers is Henry talking about drugs and shamans, and he remembers thinking that doing this for science, experimenting on himself, is the best step to be taken under the circumstances, and then there was no more thought.
Only smell. Lights in his eyes. Sensation.
Allison. Once his. Stark growls. Goes up to her. He can remember her taste on his tongue. Her hair smells... like a place to put his face in.
She pushes him gently away. He goes to explore the rest of the room, but always keeps an eye on her.
Henry. Stark pushes his head against Henry's. Henry laughs and looks pleased. Says something. Stark isn't sure what he says, but the tone is pleasant. He grins widely and bumps his head into Henry's again. He forgot what they were doing here.
He spots Carter and growls.
"Down, boy," says the sheriff, nervous, and backs one step away. Stark smells the defensive, the not-quite-fear. It turns something on inside his head. Something bright and red. In a flash he's up against Carter, and Carter's up against the wall, face first. There is yelling behind him; Allison's voice, high and alarmed, and Henry's reassuring tone, trying to calm him. He ignores. He just presses his body against Carter's smaller frame, and growls.
"Hey. Hey, Nathan. Listen to me," the words are calm but urgent, and Stark tilts his head and sniffs Carter's ear. "Listen to me. Let me go."
Dominance and territory and sex, and power and muscle and sex, and Carter and male and sex. Stark licks the back of Carter's neck, a wide stripe with the flat of his tongue, and then bites gentle but firm, making a point, staking a claim. His. He growls.
"O... kay," says Carter.
057. Fever
He's been infected. He has high pitch fever and he can't concentrate on... anything. He's turning and twisting in his bed, the sheets around him are soaked, his hair is plastered to his head. He can smell himself. It smells of disease and old sweat.
"Allison," he calls, voice raspy and throat sore and swollen. It seems like forever before she turns up, entering the hazy circle of his vision. She's smiling pleasantly, but he can see her heart isn't in it. She doesn't care about how he feels, she doesn't take it seriously. She doesn't take seriously the fact he didn't go to work for... how many days now? Three? Could be four. He's not sure. He coughs, and his ribs hurt.
"Ally, could you get me tea?" He turns big eyes on her, feeling miserable, sounding it, and very probably looking it. "With lemon? And honey?"
She pats his head, arranges the pillows around him. "I'll go make it," she says softly.
"I feel like crap," he complains.
"I know, Nathan." She sounds like she's losing her patience with him. It makes him wince. Then she shakes her head, as if humouring him. "It's only the flu, you know."
----------------------------------
*Note: These are 12 out of a 100 topic prompt table. Sadly, I don't know where said table came from, what community it belongs to. I mean no harm and no theft; I know I didn't sign up on anything, so I don't know where this list should be credited to. If you recognise it, or it's yours and you don't want me to use it, please leave a comment.
Fandom: Eureka
Warnings: Het, slash, and sci-fi.
Disclaimer: It's pretty obvious I don't own anything. Should TPTB want me to work for them, all they need to do is ask.
Summary: 12 snippets by word prompts from a table of 100*
001. Tired
He's tired, sitting head in hands at his desk, all too aware of the muscles around his eyes. He's been working on this problem for three nights now, and a tiny bit of knowledge from the back of his mind pipes at him that this is around the point of sleeplessness where an average human being cracks. His wife calls him from the bedroom; it's two in the morning, she woke and found that he's still not there with her. In a sleepy voice she tells him the problem would still be there in the morning, that he needs his sleep. He agrees with that assessment. Still he stays at his desk.
Dawn peers through his window. The burning sensation in his eyes refuses to dissipate when he blinks, or even when he takes the time to douse his face in cold water. In less than an hour his wife will wake and start her day. He's still missing something. It's troubling him. He won't rest until he solves it.
002. Back Alley
This was... so unlike him. Some dark, dank alley in the big city, head thrown back against the brick wall, and he's still married, he's still married and still wearing the ring. Allison's ring. The man blowing him doesn't seem to mind, just takes his dick into a warm wet paradise. Nathan is sometimes slow on the uptake. He was propositioned and didn't even know it until the man grinned and shook his head and spelled it out for him. And he's been away from home for so long, and he's been alone and busy with work, and the first night he went out to a bar, just for a drink, this happens. This - he looks up at the tall buildings, a light in some windows but no one looking his way, no one in the large anonymous city cares that he's getting his dick sucked, no one except him.
He's never been with a man before.
He thinks about Allison.
And then he doesn't think about anything, just about coming, just about pleasure coursing through him, just about his dick in the man's mouth, his balls in the man's hand. Fuck.
Afterwards, he stays in the alley for a little while. Catches his breath. Zips up. Straightens his tie.
When he leaves, he looks just as cool and collected as he did an hour ago.
003. Sunrise
He's seen too many sunrises from his office.
"Why are you here? It's late," he'd say, and she'd sigh and say "No, it's actually early," and he'd look up and see that the next day already started.
But sometimes he notices when the day begins. Leaves his work for a few minutes, stands by the window and spends time watching the sky turn pink on the horizon, then pale grey before turning into blue. If anyone asks, he'll fiercely deny that it gives him peace. It's just a big ball of helium and hydrogen. Useful hydrogen. He's a scientist.
Deep inside him, somewhere dormant, somewhere he doesn't really know exists, an ancient pagan lifts his head and sings glory hallelujah to the rising sun, and imprinted within Stark's cellular memory there are dances to hail it.
004. Late
"You're late," he tells Allison.
"You're never late," Carter says, a worried look on his face.
He has a strong sense of deja-vu. But now is not the time to wonder where and when this exchange could've happened before*. Now is the time to panic. Or be happy?
"It's only a week. It could be stress," she says, and he can see she's not sure either whether to panic or be happy. Carter, on the other hand, can't keep the stupid grin off his face.
"So," Stark asks, because no one else does and he can't wait, "which one of us do you think is the father?"
Allison smiles and blushes, and he thinks how beautiful she is with the extra colour in her cheeks. She shrugs.
He finds that he doesn't care that much anymore.
[*Ep: Purple Haze]
005. Son
He's been a sort of not-really father to Kevin. He was there with Allison, and helped the boy whenever he could, worked with him. But he hasn't seen him since he left for DC, and when he returned, he didn't expect Kevin to run to him, or show any emotion. In a way, it was a relief. Stark himself was not too good at these moments.
He never even thought of the term 'son' until Carter said it. Said, "I'm a father, of course I understand", and Stark thought about Callister and felt his heart twinge. He'd never have considered it, not in a million years. Callister was a lot more than a machine; he created him, brought him, worked with him... helped him... and couldn't bear to see him die. He still isn't sure that "son" is the correct term.
He never really was a father. He never really was a son.
His parents were too much like him.
Stark picks up the telephone and dials their number.
006. Hot
So hot today. So damn hot. Stupid global warming.
He had to announce Casual Wednesday. Not always, just today. Until this heat wave lets up. He hates coming to work in short sleeves. Had no choice though. So hot. The entire building is air-conditioned, but with the power surges - again, due to the heat - he had to direct most of the cooling to areas of the building that needed to stay cool to avoid explosion. Office spaces had to suffer. Most levels have no windows. So. Damn. Hot.
"Nathan."
Allison. He turns around in his chair.
He doesn't usually notice what she's wearing to work, but this time he does. It's a... shimmering dress, something relatively modest but still miles away from her business suit. It's sleeveless. It's just barely down to her knees. It's light, and it clings to her form. She's gorgeous. She's been walking around the building all day, and the heat is getting to her. He follows a tiny bead of sweat as it rolls down her exposed throat to her cleavage, disappearing between her perfect breasts.
Damn, she's hot.
007. Friend
When he first met sheriff Carter, Nathan considered him a rival. Not a very dangerous one, but a rival nonetheless, for Allison's affections, and later for control in Eureka. As time progressed, he learned to respect the man, and now considered him a slightly more worthy rival.
Owing his life to the man was... humbling. And Nathan hates humble.
But as time goes by, things change. As he's sitting with Carter in his house having a cold one, coming to terms with everything that's happened and everything that is still to come...
He can almost call the sheriff a friend.
[100]
008. Floor
How he ended up in this position, Stark isn't sure. There was an argument with Carter, which is the usual, over yet another crisis. And then there was an explosion. Or possibly an implosion, he's not sure yet, didn't have a chance to look into it because he was too busy flying backwards, ending up on his back on the floor, with an armful of Carter.
"Hey." No reply. There's a quick semblance of something that might be worry flashing through him. The man on top of him is not responding. "Hey. Carter. Jack."
"Hrrmph."
Well, at least he's alive. Unconscious, but that's not really important. Heavy, and that kinda is.
"Get off me."
Carter makes another of these incoherent noises, and instead of moving away from Stark, he just slithers up on him, making himself comfortable. And making Stark very, very uncomfortable.
"Are you going to get off me?"
"N'a minute," Carter mumbles, and Stark gets a brief but strong feel of what it must've been like for Allison, the time he supposedly fell asleep. Of course, he wasn't on top of her at the time, so at least she wasn't squashed. Around that stage in his line of thought he decides that enough is enough, and that uncomfortable just reached the point of no return. He pushes Carter off him.
Carter opens his eyes. "What did I just miss?"
"We had wild hot sex on the floor," Stark says matter-of-fact. Carter gawks, and Stark finds it oddly reassuring. "You fell asleep on me," he adds, before jumping to his feet and walking away. He resists the urge to look back just to see Carter's face.
009. Cheat
He didn't cheat on her. Despite their problems, and the year spent apart - a year! - he never cheated on her. And despite her flirting, despite what he came back to, he was positive Allison never cheated on him.
He worked too much. He wasn't... available, whatever that meant. She demanded more from him than he could give. He wasn't what she wanted. She wasn't what he could bear. But this one thing, he knew they never did to each other, never could. He asked, and he suspected, and he badgered and he hated the thought and he examined her and Jack's behaviour closely; but he never really believed they slept together... Until after she served him the papers.
010. Think
Thinking; it's what he does most. It's what he does best. It's what he does more than he should, according to some. It's what defines him.
It's who he is.
Thinking about the Artifact, or any other project currently in the works. Thinking about the mysteries of life. Thinking about angles to get more funding, and about the practical aspects of science - what Henry didn't want to think about. He thinks about so many things.
"Don't think. Just feel," she tried to tell him. He thought about it, sitting alone in his DC apartment. It didn't make any sense.
[100]
045. Animal
The injection robbed him of his mind; left him nothing but the human animal he is. The last thing he remembers is Henry talking about drugs and shamans, and he remembers thinking that doing this for science, experimenting on himself, is the best step to be taken under the circumstances, and then there was no more thought.
Only smell. Lights in his eyes. Sensation.
Allison. Once his. Stark growls. Goes up to her. He can remember her taste on his tongue. Her hair smells... like a place to put his face in.
She pushes him gently away. He goes to explore the rest of the room, but always keeps an eye on her.
Henry. Stark pushes his head against Henry's. Henry laughs and looks pleased. Says something. Stark isn't sure what he says, but the tone is pleasant. He grins widely and bumps his head into Henry's again. He forgot what they were doing here.
He spots Carter and growls.
"Down, boy," says the sheriff, nervous, and backs one step away. Stark smells the defensive, the not-quite-fear. It turns something on inside his head. Something bright and red. In a flash he's up against Carter, and Carter's up against the wall, face first. There is yelling behind him; Allison's voice, high and alarmed, and Henry's reassuring tone, trying to calm him. He ignores. He just presses his body against Carter's smaller frame, and growls.
"Hey. Hey, Nathan. Listen to me," the words are calm but urgent, and Stark tilts his head and sniffs Carter's ear. "Listen to me. Let me go."
Dominance and territory and sex, and power and muscle and sex, and Carter and male and sex. Stark licks the back of Carter's neck, a wide stripe with the flat of his tongue, and then bites gentle but firm, making a point, staking a claim. His. He growls.
"O... kay," says Carter.
057. Fever
He's been infected. He has high pitch fever and he can't concentrate on... anything. He's turning and twisting in his bed, the sheets around him are soaked, his hair is plastered to his head. He can smell himself. It smells of disease and old sweat.
"Allison," he calls, voice raspy and throat sore and swollen. It seems like forever before she turns up, entering the hazy circle of his vision. She's smiling pleasantly, but he can see her heart isn't in it. She doesn't care about how he feels, she doesn't take it seriously. She doesn't take seriously the fact he didn't go to work for... how many days now? Three? Could be four. He's not sure. He coughs, and his ribs hurt.
"Ally, could you get me tea?" He turns big eyes on her, feeling miserable, sounding it, and very probably looking it. "With lemon? And honey?"
She pats his head, arranges the pillows around him. "I'll go make it," she says softly.
"I feel like crap," he complains.
"I know, Nathan." She sounds like she's losing her patience with him. It makes him wince. Then she shakes her head, as if humouring him. "It's only the flu, you know."
----------------------------------
*Note: These are 12 out of a 100 topic prompt table. Sadly, I don't know where said table came from, what community it belongs to. I mean no harm and no theft; I know I didn't sign up on anything, so I don't know where this list should be credited to. If you recognise it, or it's yours and you don't want me to use it, please leave a comment.
