Page 1
The
challenge: Write a drabble that includes the phrase “Good boy.”
He’s a dark silhouette
crouching between my outstretched legs, looming over me and waking me
with his stare.
“Time to get up, Toby.”
I yawn and pretend I’d
rather sleep, but he knows all my small tricks and lies. He crawls up
the length of my body like a cat, stretching and purring, and then he’s
kneeling over my head. He falls forward on one hand and uses his thumb
to open my
mouth.
“Come on Toby,” he
whispers, aiming his cock carefully and pushing it along my tongue.
I close my mouth
around him and he sighs, “Good boy.”
<>::<>::<>::<>::<>::<>::<>
How Things Were
Another Good Boy drabble. This takes place in an AU universe of
mine; I occasionally post bits of the story on my LJ and refer to it as
“the Safari Universe.”
We often couldn’t make it to a hotel room fast enough. I’d climb into
his double-parked truck, and impatient hands were tearing at my suit
before I even pulled the door closed.
“Chris…not here…”
Sometimes he listened, sometimes he didn’t. Sometimes he held me down
and pinned my hands at my side while he sucked my cock right there on
Fifth Avenue. I made my expression neutral and watched people walk by
as I came, low moans resonating in the stillness of the air around us.
Momentarily satisfied, he swallowed and looked up at me with a smile.
“Good boy.”
<>::<>::<>::<>::<>::<>::<>
The Greatest Gift
The challenge: Write a drabble that takes place in the visitor’s
room. I wrote this one as a joke; the real one comes next.
I see it in his face, and it makes my stomach feel like it’s been
dropped 100 stories onto hard pavement. “Have you fucked her yet?”
“Well...yes...” He looks down at his hands clasped in front of him.
“But...I think I have something that will make you feel better.” He
tilts his head back up at me and grins.
“Yeah?”
He reaches under the table, and I hear a rustle of plastic. “Look,
Chris.”
“Oh Toby,” I whisper, reaching out with a trembling hand. “Socks. God,
they’re beautiful...”
“Glad you like ‘em. Now come here and give me some sugar.”
<>::<>::<>::<>::<>::<>::<>
Déjà Vu
Here’s my real visitor’s room drabble.
It’s been a long time, but I know that walk when I see it, and that
lazy backward tilt to your head—how could I forget? You smell different
this time, though, like strong mints steeped in gin.
"Did you miss me? Christ, I missed you." You’re working your hand down
the front of my pants before I can answer.
I know I should try to stop this, to sit down and talk to you—but your
warm hand is stroking me and I’m tasting your mouth again, and the only
thing
I’m capable of thinking is “You missed me.”
<>::<>::<>::<>::<>::<>::<>
Wanker
The challenge: Voyeurism. This one is canon.
As your eyes wander into each dark pod, there’s only one thing worth
finding. It’s the same thing you look for every night, bottle of lotion
in one hand, cock in the other. You see his fist as a blur of greased
motion—you see it, 20 guys across the common area can see it if they
want, and Officer Murphy could see it, too, if he turned 45 degrees to
his left. But Toby’s putting on this performance for an audience of
one. His eyes sparkle in your direction as he comes in his hand,
wishing it was you.
<>::<>::<>::<>::<>::<>::<>
Later That Night
Another voyeurism drabble; this one takes place in another AU
universe of mine, an early-1950s noir story.
Cigarette smoke drifted up and around Chris’s head in a gray haze; he
idly wondered whether it might be visible to someone inside. The
bedroom
was dark, but not as dark as the night, and he was able to see Toby
clearly as he unbuttoned his shirt, the shirt Chris lent him. When it
was open, hanging
loosely from his thin frame, Toby paused and slowly smoothed the fabric
against his chest. He suddenly struggled to yank it off his body and
then
crushed it against his face. Chris noticed that Toby was hard now. That
made two of them.
<>::<>::<>::<>::<>::<>::<>
Alone
The challenge: Write a drabble in which a specific smell plays a
role. Takes place in the Safari universe.
The sweet, wet reek of alcohol was like a knife through the air, sharp
enough to make my eyes water from across the room. Toby threw his coat
on the couch next to me like I wasn't even there.
"Rough day?"
He ignored me, walked past me into the kitchen. The freezer door
opened; a bottle hit the counter. I heard the crack of the ice-cube
tray, the cold music of ice tumbling into a glass. He left the scent of
gin and frozen night air behind with me, and I breathed it in because
it was all I had.
<>::<>::<>::<>::<>::<>::<>
Distraction
Free-for-all challenge: write about anything.
I stared at my book without understanding a word; for a second, I
couldn’t even remember which book it was. The sound of Chris exhaling
sharply, again and again, seemed as loud as thunder in my ears.
My eyes shifted to watch him. He mouthed numbers silently with each
push-up.
“Ten, fourteen, twenty-seven, three, seventy-nine…”
“Beecher,” Chris sighed, then collapsed to the floor. “Don’t
move. I’m gonna kick your fucking ass.”
“Mmm hmm.” I pretended to read again, but he reached out with one hand
and pulled me to the hard floor and suddenly I didn’t feel like
pretending anything.
<>::<>::<>::<>::<>::<>::<>
Contested Property
The challenge: Change canon in some way.
“You’re not scared of Keller...?”
“Fuck you.”
I watched Mondo force an unconvincing sneer. I licked my lips and
looked down at the bulge in his pants.
“Why don’t you come here, and I’ll give you a hand with that.”
“Keller said ‘hands off.’”
“Keller doesn’t fucking own me.”
He paused. I could almost hear the gears turning. “Adebisi will have my
ass if there’s trouble.”
“It’ll be Keller’s ass, not yours.”
Apparently, I made my point. He crossed the pod in two strides and
pulled my mouth hard against his. From above, Chris’s stare burned
straight through us both.
<>::<>::<>::<>::<>::<>::<>
How I Know
The challenge: Write a drabble in which one of the boys describes
the other.
He wrestles me until he’s on top, and when I finally relax and look up
I see his eyes, pale and cloudy blue-green like that glass you find at
the beach. When I stand up after my fiftieth push-up, those eyes slowly
lick the
sweat from my chest. When I lift my dripping face from the sink after
lights
out, they touch me with fierce blue lust from across the pod. Even when
it’s
dark I can still see color and light in his eyes; it’s how I know that
now
there’s nothing between us he doesn’t want to see.