Ficlet: Triple Thick. NC-17.
Oct. 31st, 2006 09:00 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
roadstergal.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
reddwarfslashIn honor of Halloween, the scariest thing I could think of to write. A gapfiller for Emohawk, slightly AU.
Crit is always good (and am I asking for it). Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
fanfic100. Little Damn Table.
Ace shifted his hands into position around Duane's neck. Do it quickly! his mind said, but some part of him hesitated. It wasn't the good old Arnie J. part of him that had been sucked out, he reflected; that part would kill the Cat with less excuse than what faced them. It was some kind, gentle, caring part of him that had been very firmly locked away. Some part of him he had judged, early in life, to be a little too... well, gay. The part that wanted to cry at sappy movies. The part of him that felt sorry for Bambi - the part that had been shoved aside by the rest of him rooting for the hunter.
"What's next, sir?" Duane asked, brightly, looking out into the midsection with utter trust.
Ace sighed and dropped his hands. "I can't do it," he groaned. "It'd be like garroting Bambi."
"Garroting, sir?" Duane asked, turning his head, staring at Ace with his big, brown, innocent eyes - looking, indeed, a lot like a deer frozen in the headlights of an oncoming semi truck.
"Nothing, nothing." Ace rubbed the bridge of his nose with two fingers. Smeg, what to do? The Emohawk was in the midsection somewhere. Well, if he couldn't kill Duane, he'd have to find some other way to get the beast. Something else heroic that would get rid of the blighter and also sacrifice himself in a needlessly noble and messy manner. Perhaps he could lock Duane in the airlock and set off a neutron pulse in the midsection? Ace's rumination was interrupted by Duane's sniffling.
"What's wrong, chappy?" Ace asked, patting Duane on the shoulder. The action dislodged a minor snowstorm of dandruff from his scratchy cardigan. The man smelled strongly of medicated shampoo and cheap aftershave.
"I don't want to die a virgin," Duane sniffled. "I always carried a triple-thick condom just in case, but nobody ever asked! I would give women the number to my hostel..."
Ace shook his head, patting Duane more firmly on the shoulder. "Sex isn't all it's cracked up to be, Duane. A godawful mess, to tell you the truth. You're far better off without it."
"I'd like to judge for myself," Duane muttered, sucking his lower lip in under his buck teeth and staring sullenly at the ground. Suddenly, he looked up, his face brightening. "Could you help me out, sir? Isn't that what heroes do?"
Ace shook his head. "Not a female human left alive, and the Cats - well, I don't know if I could find a lady Cat for you in the time I have left." About five minutes, he judged, to rig up a neutron pulse.
"I know, sir! Couldn't you help me out?" He turned those innocent, slightly vapid eyes on Ace again. Slowly, with the crashing majesty of a building whose foundations had been fatally weakened by termites falling in on itself, the realization of what Duane was suggesting smashed into Ace's mind.
The part of Ace that would have said No smegging way, you disgusting smegging twat! had been sucked away by the Emohawk, and so he stood there, oddly devoid of feeling. How did he feel about that request? Well, he would much rather have had it from Lister, he decided. With his snidiness and negativity gone, he could see their sniping for what it was; the affection and desire that Arnie J. had suppressed, that had only escaped in fits and spurts before, was quite clear to him. However, he could not let Lister in to where the Emohawk was. No, that was out of the question. And that being the case - well, it would be wrong to deny Duane a little bit of happiness, wouldn't it? Happiness he would likely never experience anywhere else.
"Righto, old chum," Ace replied.
Duane's teeth did make kissing a bit of a different experience. They stuck out almost as far as his tongue did, and Ace had to slither his tongue underneath them; their unevenness was almost serrated, and Ace learned quite quickly that he had to anticipate Duane's uncoordinated movements in order to keep his tongue from being scraped raw. But Duane seemed quite appreciative of the effort, grinding his polyester trousers up against Ace's velour. His hands grasped various bits of Ace as if not sure what to do with them - which he likely wasn't, Ace reflected. He pulled off his jacket and shirt, then almost yelped as Duane tried to lick a nipple and nearly bit it off. "Erm, maybe not quite like that, old chum," he said, warily.
Fortunately, the refrigerator in the kitchen had plenty of butter, as the triple-thick condom was unlubricated. As reinforced as it was, it felt less like a penis and more like a shapeless rubber dildo - or so Ace assumed. He had not had a penis up his bum before, after all. It was disconcerting to be called "Sir" while being pummeled with no particular rhythm, interspersed with high-pitched whines; but it was a good deed, after all, and that was exciting enough for Ace. He grasped his own cock and began to stroke, enjoying the thought of the pleasure he was giving to Duane - probably the only pleasure the man had received in his life, aside from the time the psychologist had helped him stop wetting the bed.
It wasn't until the door blew open and Lister strode into the room, pausing with an unreadable expression on his face, that Ace realized two things.
The first was that he had not, actually, done anything about the Emohawk in the time he had locked Lister out.
The second was that an Emohawk could assume any form at all. Including that of a triple-thick condom.
Crit is always good (and am I asking for it). Written for
fanfic100. Little Damn Table.Ace shifted his hands into position around Duane's neck. Do it quickly! his mind said, but some part of him hesitated. It wasn't the good old Arnie J. part of him that had been sucked out, he reflected; that part would kill the Cat with less excuse than what faced them. It was some kind, gentle, caring part of him that had been very firmly locked away. Some part of him he had judged, early in life, to be a little too... well, gay. The part that wanted to cry at sappy movies. The part of him that felt sorry for Bambi - the part that had been shoved aside by the rest of him rooting for the hunter.
"What's next, sir?" Duane asked, brightly, looking out into the midsection with utter trust.
Ace sighed and dropped his hands. "I can't do it," he groaned. "It'd be like garroting Bambi."
"Garroting, sir?" Duane asked, turning his head, staring at Ace with his big, brown, innocent eyes - looking, indeed, a lot like a deer frozen in the headlights of an oncoming semi truck.
"Nothing, nothing." Ace rubbed the bridge of his nose with two fingers. Smeg, what to do? The Emohawk was in the midsection somewhere. Well, if he couldn't kill Duane, he'd have to find some other way to get the beast. Something else heroic that would get rid of the blighter and also sacrifice himself in a needlessly noble and messy manner. Perhaps he could lock Duane in the airlock and set off a neutron pulse in the midsection? Ace's rumination was interrupted by Duane's sniffling.
"What's wrong, chappy?" Ace asked, patting Duane on the shoulder. The action dislodged a minor snowstorm of dandruff from his scratchy cardigan. The man smelled strongly of medicated shampoo and cheap aftershave.
"I don't want to die a virgin," Duane sniffled. "I always carried a triple-thick condom just in case, but nobody ever asked! I would give women the number to my hostel..."
Ace shook his head, patting Duane more firmly on the shoulder. "Sex isn't all it's cracked up to be, Duane. A godawful mess, to tell you the truth. You're far better off without it."
"I'd like to judge for myself," Duane muttered, sucking his lower lip in under his buck teeth and staring sullenly at the ground. Suddenly, he looked up, his face brightening. "Could you help me out, sir? Isn't that what heroes do?"
Ace shook his head. "Not a female human left alive, and the Cats - well, I don't know if I could find a lady Cat for you in the time I have left." About five minutes, he judged, to rig up a neutron pulse.
"I know, sir! Couldn't you help me out?" He turned those innocent, slightly vapid eyes on Ace again. Slowly, with the crashing majesty of a building whose foundations had been fatally weakened by termites falling in on itself, the realization of what Duane was suggesting smashed into Ace's mind.
The part of Ace that would have said No smegging way, you disgusting smegging twat! had been sucked away by the Emohawk, and so he stood there, oddly devoid of feeling. How did he feel about that request? Well, he would much rather have had it from Lister, he decided. With his snidiness and negativity gone, he could see their sniping for what it was; the affection and desire that Arnie J. had suppressed, that had only escaped in fits and spurts before, was quite clear to him. However, he could not let Lister in to where the Emohawk was. No, that was out of the question. And that being the case - well, it would be wrong to deny Duane a little bit of happiness, wouldn't it? Happiness he would likely never experience anywhere else.
"Righto, old chum," Ace replied.
Duane's teeth did make kissing a bit of a different experience. They stuck out almost as far as his tongue did, and Ace had to slither his tongue underneath them; their unevenness was almost serrated, and Ace learned quite quickly that he had to anticipate Duane's uncoordinated movements in order to keep his tongue from being scraped raw. But Duane seemed quite appreciative of the effort, grinding his polyester trousers up against Ace's velour. His hands grasped various bits of Ace as if not sure what to do with them - which he likely wasn't, Ace reflected. He pulled off his jacket and shirt, then almost yelped as Duane tried to lick a nipple and nearly bit it off. "Erm, maybe not quite like that, old chum," he said, warily.
Fortunately, the refrigerator in the kitchen had plenty of butter, as the triple-thick condom was unlubricated. As reinforced as it was, it felt less like a penis and more like a shapeless rubber dildo - or so Ace assumed. He had not had a penis up his bum before, after all. It was disconcerting to be called "Sir" while being pummeled with no particular rhythm, interspersed with high-pitched whines; but it was a good deed, after all, and that was exciting enough for Ace. He grasped his own cock and began to stroke, enjoying the thought of the pleasure he was giving to Duane - probably the only pleasure the man had received in his life, aside from the time the psychologist had helped him stop wetting the bed.
It wasn't until the door blew open and Lister strode into the room, pausing with an unreadable expression on his face, that Ace realized two things.
The first was that he had not, actually, done anything about the Emohawk in the time he had locked Lister out.
The second was that an Emohawk could assume any form at all. Including that of a triple-thick condom.
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no subject
Date: 2006-10-31 07:05 pm (UTC)The last sentence is perfect. The whole thing is perfect! I really like Ace's "Righto, old chum," to Duane's request. It wouldn't be Ace if he didn't help out in any situation;-) Thanks for making me laugh.*g*
no subject
Date: 2006-10-31 08:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-31 07:29 pm (UTC)Oh my God. Poor Ace. Poor Duane!
Truly awesome.
no subject
Date: 2006-10-31 08:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-31 07:52 pm (UTC)Guuuuuhhhhh.... Gaaaahhhh... Aaaaaaaagggh... It's so good! But it's horrible! Is it over? Is it safe? *whimpers*
The part of him that felt sorry for Bambi - the part that had been shoved aside by the rest of him rooting for the hunter.
I swear, there's nothing like your Rimmer.
"Sex isn't all it's cracked up to be, Duane. A godawful mess, to tell you the truth. You're far better off without it."
So perfectly Ace.
"Righto, old chum," Ace replied.
I'll be hearing that in my nightmares for a while.
Duane's teeth did make kissing a bit of a different experience.
Oh gods, you have no mercy, do you?
Fortunately, the refrigerator in the kitchen had plenty of butter
No, clearly not.
It was disconcerting to be called "Sir" while being pummeled with no particular rhythm
Happy place, I'm going to my happy place...
Last line. Well. I salute you, ma'am. I really do.
But I really should know better than to ask you these things! ;) Much love.
no subject
Date: 2006-10-31 08:45 pm (UTC)My Rimmer isn't gay. You remember that chat we had yesterday? Totally straight.
Well, it had enough butter for the Emohawk when it was in condom form. Afterwards...
Aw, thank you! For the idea, and for still speaking to me...
no subject
Date: 2006-10-31 11:04 pm (UTC)Oh right, I keep forgetting. So easy to forget. You know. I don't mind being reminded though. *whistles*
Lalalalalallalaal... It never happened! Never happened! *hides*
Pfff... I brought it on myself!
no subject
Date: 2006-10-31 08:16 pm (UTC)The only thing that made me go a little "huh?" was the fact that Ace grokked what Duane wanted so quickly. Maybe he would think Duane wanted him to set him up with some lucky lady and then... with stomach sinking certainty Duane's moist, puppy-dog eyes would reveal what Duane *really* wanted.
hehehe
It's good.
no subject
Date: 2006-10-31 08:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-11-01 04:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-31 08:55 pm (UTC)Oh dear. I have the giggles!!! Hee!! That last line was absolute class, friend. =) I am impressed. And still giggling.
Well done, kiddo. *giggles*
no subject
Date: 2006-10-31 09:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-31 09:34 pm (UTC)What's next? Duane with a tree? Actually, something in me would think that Duane with a tree works. Eek.
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Date: 2006-10-31 09:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-31 10:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-31 11:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-31 11:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-31 11:25 pm (UTC)(I really should do something with all that text-porn at some point...)
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Date: 2006-10-31 11:28 pm (UTC)"How's the squirrel?"
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Date: 2006-11-01 03:17 am (UTC)oh, the images... just a squirrel trying to get a nut...
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Date: 2006-11-01 04:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-11-01 08:34 am (UTC)I think that little ficlet scarred me for life. Marvelous!
no subject
Date: 2006-11-01 06:58 pm (UTC)That was a bit different, wasn't it? Very delightful, in fact :D
And for the first time do I realize that Duane is quite adorable. Poor boy, those teeth of his must really make his theoretical sex life so much more interesting than needed.
Also, it's quite interesting to read of emohawk!Ace. He's Ace, through and through, but you can sense Rimmer in him. Hmm. Or maybe I just have a one-tracked mind :)
Anyway: luv :)