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Dec. 24th, 2004 09:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nnyA christmas present I promised a long time ago. It's not very good, and I strongly reccomend you read the original because ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
fahye is a genius and an artist.
Anyway. Um. Here it is, finally, a Christmas present fortahira_saki. I hope you like.
Andre is never still. Whether he’s in someone’s face, yelling at them for fucking up, or pacing as he goes through his paperwork; even when he’s sitting he fidgets, foot twitching or fingers tapping the table, restless energy that never seems to desert him, never quite at peace.
Which is why Skazz is a revelation. Not wanting to move is a revelation. When the kid’s curled up against him and his arm’s going to sleep and he’s not moving in case green eyes’ll blink blearily open and he knows the kid needs his sleep, he’d give anything to just stay there, unmoving, forever.
So the other coppers stare, when he freezes.
The Kid’s outside. That’s all they know him as, because a name is power of a sort, and because they don’t ask. Not after… they don’t ask. The Kid is Webber’s, Webber’s business, and that’s all there is to it. That’s all they need to know. A mention’ll get you the uncomfortable feeling of Andre’s Full Attention, and that’s not something you’d wish on anyone.
So they don’t mention that maybe his relentless circuits of the room take him past the window more often, and they don’t mention that maybe he’s a little more jittery than normal- they just carefully don’t fill the coffee pot and keep their heads down. Don’t look at him.
Until he freezes.
A dark head bent close to the blue, too close, and then Skazz is nodding up at the guy and the dark head turns and gods, that face, that smile… it’s not a smile that says I want him not a smile that says I could have him a smile which lets him know if I wanted him, I have him, I have him and you know it.
His fists clench at the first glancing touch, and he’s gritting his teeth hard enough that his jaw will ache later but he could care less right now. And then eyes flickering up to meet his, even at this distance it’s like nothing else, even at this distance it makes him step back and it twists in his gut and it makes him watch them as they step as they touch as Skazz fucking melts into him…
He whirls around and he’s running, almost knocking someone down the stairs, the door of the watch house slamming behind him and the bastard’s fucking smiling against Skazz’s mouth
my mouth
and Andre’s fist is moving before he can even think about it not because Skazz is his and not because this guy’s taken what’s his, because he’s pretty sure this guy takes what he wants and he’s not the first. He lashes out because that kiss, Skazz pressed up against him and into it, so fucking into it, is one of the hottest damn things he’s ever seen and he will never fucking forgive the guy for ensuring he’s gonna dream about this.
The guy’s grip is tight. And he’s pretty sure he woulda lived to regret hitting him. Maybe not long.
“Take care of this one. Don’t push him too far, or you’ll regret it.” His voice is silky, and dangerous, and Andre can feel himself reacting even through the hate.
“I know.”
“You’re lucky to have claim on him.” Long fingers moving against Skazz’s wrist, unmarked and unstained and fucking perfect.
“I know.” He looks over his shoulder at the kid, and the kid’s looking back at him, and fuck and “Gods, I know.” He can’t quite keep his voice steady.
And maybe the stranger walks off, and maybe he doesn’t, because fucking perfect as he is he’s not Skazz, and the kid’s all that matters.
“Shit, kid, I didn’t mean to…” And he’s not even sure what he’s apologising about, only he knows he needs to say it, to clear the air, to make the tight feeling in his chest go away and make things alright.
“I know.”
And then it’s his lips against Skazz’s, and his hands pulling him closer, and he’s at peace.
fahye is a genius and an artist.Anyway. Um. Here it is, finally, a Christmas present for
tahira_saki. I hope you like.Andre is never still. Whether he’s in someone’s face, yelling at them for fucking up, or pacing as he goes through his paperwork; even when he’s sitting he fidgets, foot twitching or fingers tapping the table, restless energy that never seems to desert him, never quite at peace.
Which is why Skazz is a revelation. Not wanting to move is a revelation. When the kid’s curled up against him and his arm’s going to sleep and he’s not moving in case green eyes’ll blink blearily open and he knows the kid needs his sleep, he’d give anything to just stay there, unmoving, forever.
So the other coppers stare, when he freezes.
The Kid’s outside. That’s all they know him as, because a name is power of a sort, and because they don’t ask. Not after… they don’t ask. The Kid is Webber’s, Webber’s business, and that’s all there is to it. That’s all they need to know. A mention’ll get you the uncomfortable feeling of Andre’s Full Attention, and that’s not something you’d wish on anyone.
So they don’t mention that maybe his relentless circuits of the room take him past the window more often, and they don’t mention that maybe he’s a little more jittery than normal- they just carefully don’t fill the coffee pot and keep their heads down. Don’t look at him.
Until he freezes.
A dark head bent close to the blue, too close, and then Skazz is nodding up at the guy and the dark head turns and gods, that face, that smile… it’s not a smile that says I want him not a smile that says I could have him a smile which lets him know if I wanted him, I have him, I have him and you know it.
His fists clench at the first glancing touch, and he’s gritting his teeth hard enough that his jaw will ache later but he could care less right now. And then eyes flickering up to meet his, even at this distance it’s like nothing else, even at this distance it makes him step back and it twists in his gut and it makes him watch them as they step as they touch as Skazz fucking melts into him…
He whirls around and he’s running, almost knocking someone down the stairs, the door of the watch house slamming behind him and the bastard’s fucking smiling against Skazz’s mouth
my mouth
and Andre’s fist is moving before he can even think about it not because Skazz is his and not because this guy’s taken what’s his, because he’s pretty sure this guy takes what he wants and he’s not the first. He lashes out because that kiss, Skazz pressed up against him and into it, so fucking into it, is one of the hottest damn things he’s ever seen and he will never fucking forgive the guy for ensuring he’s gonna dream about this.
The guy’s grip is tight. And he’s pretty sure he woulda lived to regret hitting him. Maybe not long.
“Take care of this one. Don’t push him too far, or you’ll regret it.” His voice is silky, and dangerous, and Andre can feel himself reacting even through the hate.
“I know.”
“You’re lucky to have claim on him.” Long fingers moving against Skazz’s wrist, unmarked and unstained and fucking perfect.
“I know.” He looks over his shoulder at the kid, and the kid’s looking back at him, and fuck and “Gods, I know.” He can’t quite keep his voice steady.
And maybe the stranger walks off, and maybe he doesn’t, because fucking perfect as he is he’s not Skazz, and the kid’s all that matters.
“Shit, kid, I didn’t mean to…” And he’s not even sure what he’s apologising about, only he knows he needs to say it, to clear the air, to make the tight feeling in his chest go away and make things alright.
“I know.”
And then it’s his lips against Skazz’s, and his hands pulling him closer, and he’s at peace.
