Entry tags:
comment party: because fic is the way I like to talk about stuff
Okay, you know what? SurveyFail is boggling me so massively that I think it is high time I did something about it. The thing is, though, that plenty of intelligent people who are much more qualified to talk about both the scientific and the sociological aspects than I am are already all over this, so I am entirely in favour but I don't have anything meaningfully original to contribute to the many ongoing threaded discussions.
But there is something I am qualified to do, as a member of fandom and as someone who is queer and female and really, really fucking tired of all the heteronormative and gender-essentialist and generally ignorant things that the survey-makers are saying (this is probably one of my favourite threads, and by favourite I mean I read slash is kind of the female equivalent of the straight male interest in transsexuals and my brain considered going into total meltdown). I am qualified to feel as normal and un-guilty about my sexuality as I damn well please, and because a lot of the time it collides with my fannishness anyway, I declare this a comment fic request post.
But this one is specifically for porny prompts. Let's resurrect the sexual trivia meme! Throw one of your kink bingo squares at me! Tell me to tie Fraser up again! (Why yes, I am being specific about that one. Although I'll tie someone else up if that's your bag.) Anything goes, though I do reserve the right to say "what, hah, no, I'm not going to write this thing, but if you want to, totally go for it." Let's hear it. :D
But there is something I am qualified to do, as a member of fandom and as someone who is queer and female and really, really fucking tired of all the heteronormative and gender-essentialist and generally ignorant things that the survey-makers are saying (this is probably one of my favourite threads, and by favourite I mean I read slash is kind of the female equivalent of the straight male interest in transsexuals and my brain considered going into total meltdown). I am qualified to feel as normal and un-guilty about my sexuality as I damn well please, and because a lot of the time it collides with my fannishness anyway, I declare this a comment fic request post.
But this one is specifically for porny prompts. Let's resurrect the sexual trivia meme! Throw one of your kink bingo squares at me! Tell me to tie Fraser up again! (Why yes, I am being specific about that one. Although I'll tie someone else up if that's your bag.) Anything goes, though I do reserve the right to say "what, hah, no, I'm not going to write this thing, but if you want to, totally go for it." Let's hear it. :D
Fraser/Rodney, handcuffs
"This is what you brought with you?" Rodney demanded.
"Well, no, I also --" Fraser began, but Rodney flapped an impatient hand at him. Ah. It was rhetorical. It perhaps followed that Rodney wasn't interested in why he owned a pair of cuffs that were ... not precisely standard issue, although there was a perfectly innocent explanation involving --
It occurred to Fraser that Rodney wasn't interested in perfectly innocent explanations, either. He was giving the cuffs an intensely speculative look, and transferring that look to Fraser. Well. Suddenly Fraser wasn't interested in explanations either. He licked his lips. "I --" he said, and wasn't entirely sure where to go from there. Rodney had an unfortunate habit of rendering him inarticulate, usually with the judicious application of clever words and clever fingers. It had reached the point where Fraser was incapable of watching Rodney work on a ZPM without it eliciting an entirely inappropriate response. Still, in this context the response was acceptable. "Would you, ah ...?"
"Yeah. Um. Yes," Rodney said; it was, as always, reassuring out of all proportion to reconfirm that Rodney became just as inarticulate as Fraser, color creeping up his neck. There had, in fact, always been something reassuring about Rodney, from the first time they'd touched with intent. It wasn't with intent, you moron, Fraser could imagine Rodney saying, and yes, it was inaccurate. They'd had a narrow escape that had required all of Rodney's considerable ingenuity and all of Fraser's skill as a marksman; their combined adrenaline and relief had sent them careening into their puddlejumper and then to one singular perfect moment where they'd both forgotten to think and had crashed together in a clumsy kiss, hands already fumbling at each other's clothes. After this there had been no reason to stop. It came as a great relief to be able to stammer and leave things unexplained and have no need to apologise for doing so.
Here and now, then, Fraser wordlessly leaned forward to give Rodney a kiss that was a good deal less clumsy than their first had been. He felt Rodney's grip on the cuffs go tighter, which -- yes. At some later point he would retrieve them or trick them away, and it would be Rodney's turn to be laid out and babble breathless instructions, or to for once quiet himself and let Fraser apply his own knowledge to the situation. Later. Now he let Rodney help him with his clothes, neither of them fumbling now with the ease of practice on their side, and he let Rodney fit the cuffs snugly round his wrists, and he still blinked a little in surprise when he discovered that Rodney had snapped them around convenient bedposts provided without warning by the city.
"So the Ancients provided for the eventuality of --" he started, but Rodney cut him off, palm pressed briefly over his mouth.
"Shut up," Rodney told him. "One more word and so help me I will leave you like this and check the databases and schematics to find an answer to just how kinky our Ancient friends were, and that would ..."
"Be quite silly," Fraser agreed. He consciously relaxed, breathing out and closing his eyes. "Carry on."
"Thank you," Rodney said, and carried on: kissed Fraser pushily until all considerations of Ancient customs had fled; left his mouth and kissed on down his chest, fingertips light along his ribs until Fraser squirmed and giggled, which seemed to delight Rodney to such a degree that he carried on past the point when Fraser's giggles had turned to helpless breathless gasps and the squirming to maddening friction. "Hmm," Rodney said, but then he caught the look on Fraser's face and his expression softened from interest into the odd sort of affection he only showed when Fraser was naked. "Should I --?" he said, before realizing the foolishness of his own question, and completed the thought by instead sliding down and putting his mouth to a different use.
Fraser panted up at the ceiling, which was pleasantly green and made him think for a startling dizzy moment of a particular, hypnotic sort of drowning. The fact that he could do nothing but, his arms rendered immobile and Rodney's weight holding his legs down, the fact that Rodney was entirely in charge of his physical wellbeing yet again, became, entirely without warning, suddenly overwhelming. "Oh," Fraser said in surprise on the exhale, the only warning he could give, and shook through it, stunned more than anything.
He became aware that Rodney had crawled back up his side and was looking down at him. "Huh," Rodney said, in that particular tone he used for the times when he had solved brilliant equations and was just waiting for someone to ask for the results of his findings.
Fraser didn't ask. He just tilted his head up for a kiss, which Rodney gave willingly. He would ask; later. When he was ready.
Re: Fraser/Rodney, handcuffs
But, uh. Yeah. This makes me flail my hands with happiness, cause it's so Rodney and so Fraser.
Re: Fraser/Rodney, handcuffs
Despite that, though, yay! Score one for the spontaneous crossover ship!
(Also: I would totally write John/Ray puddlejumper sex. Just sayin'.)
Re: Fraser/Rodney, handcuffs
Re: Fraser/Rodney, handcuffs
Am going to sit here and go NGGGGG for a while. Damn, the coffee's gonna get cold...
Re: Fraser/Rodney, handcuffs