|12 results of travel.
||[Jan. 6th, 2014|12:21 pm]
|[||Tags|||||ayatsuri sakon, black books, blake's 7, buffy the vampire slayer, day 12, death note, doctor who, firefly, jonathan creek, lycoris, merlin, thunderbirds, willard price's adventure series||]|
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Word Count: 100
Summary: Dawn asks Buffy something.
“Do you ever miss Sunnydale?” Dawn asked, drumming her heels on the balcony as they looked out the city together.
Buffy took a moment to answer that question. They’d been to so many places since leaving Sunnydale. England, Italy, Spain, Germany … she’d seen all sorts of things. Met all sorts of people. And all sorts of demons. It turned out that there were different types that didn’t travel. She’d seen some amazing things.
But Sunnydale had been home. Through the horror and the sadness and the bad things … but it had been home still.
“No,” she lied.
Title: Fitting In
Fandom: Death Note
Word Count: 175
Summary: Ide is uncomfortable in America. Matsuda isn't.
Ide seemed to be feeling far more culture shock than anybody else in America.
Aizawa seemed quite comfortable in the place. Mogi … well, it was difficult to tell what Mogi was thinking. Raito was generally comfortable everywhere. Even the Chief didn’t seem too bothered. And Matsuda … well, Ide thought uncharitably, Matsuda was too stupid to get worried.
It wasn’t a fair thought, he knew that. Matsuda just seemed remarkably comfortable interacting with everybody here. His English was good and people seemed to think he was friendly and open – which he was, of course. Far more open than most people that Ide knew. Apparently, people liked that here.
“You look too anxious,” Matsuda told him. “You should smile at people more. People like to be smiled at. Don’t you find that?”
Ide just shrugged. He didn’t often smile, even at people he liked. Sometimes he thought that this mouth just didn’t work that way.
Sometimes – and he was damned if he’d ever admit it – he was just a little bit jealous of Touta Matsuda.
Title: Different Stars
Fandom: Ayatsuri Sakon
Word Count: 140
Summary: Sakon watches the sky.
It was a beautiful night.
Sakon lay, propped up against a tree, staring up at the stars. Ukon was heavy on his lap, watching too. Stars changed wherever you went. Even if it was just that they moved a little. Wherever you were, there was a slightly sky.
Sakon thought that was amazing. It was one of the reasons that he loved to travel. Seeing all the different skies. One day, when he could, he would leave Japan and see different stars all over and show everybody just how amazing Ukon was. It might be some time in the future but he had already learned so much from travelling. He knew that one day, they would learn even more.
“Hey Sakon. You’re thinking too much. I can tell.”
Ukon patted his cheek and Sakon smiled and hugged his puppet close.
Word Count: 138
Summary: The machines don't always stop exhaustion.
Sometimes, even in the amazing Thunderbirds machines, they felt the results of jet-leg.
You never knew how often you would have to go on missions. You never knew what you would have to do, when you would have to get out of bed in the middle of the night or drop everything just as you were going to bed to get back into the ship and go to someone’s aid.
Of course, they all helped each other. It was sometimes possible to switch pilots (although that was a last resort that none of them liked – they were protective of their machines and places) But still. Sometimes, it was deeply exhausting work.
“Travel, he said,” Gordon muttered to Virgil once as they flew home. “See the world, he said.”
Virgil was too tired to tell him to shut up.
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 100
Summary: Zoe thinks about her travels.
Sometimes, Zoe wished she’d never come with the Doctor.
The days when she was cold and wet and when horrible things were happening, she just wished that she could go home, back to the Wheel, back to Earth. Where everything made sense, was logical and quiet and she could just sit with her computers and make everything logical and easy again.
But then there were the days when she was staring at amazing sights, talking to people that she would never have seen. Laughing with Jamie, playing intellectual games with the Doctor. And she knew she wouldn’t change a thing.
Title: No Regrets
Word Count: 134
Summary: Simon never expected to travel.
Simon had never really thought about travelling.
His world had been mapped out. He was going to be a doctor. Doctors could travel but he’d never really thought much about it. Certainly not anywhere to the Outer Rim. He wasn’t going to be that kind of doctor.
And now everything had changed. Now he’d seen more planets than he’d ever imagined. Done things that he’d never even dreamed that he might do. And he’d changed. He knew that he’d changed, more than he’d ever dreamed possible.
Sometimes he wasn’t sure that he liked it. But then he looked at River and he knew there was nothing else he could ever have done. Travelling might have lost him his certainty, his sense of self and understanding. But he had saved River.
He had no regrets.
Title: That Week
Fandom: Black Books
Word Count: 195
Summary: Manny tries to clean things.
Manny was attempting one of his regular attempts to clean the shop and the rooms when Bernard swooped down on him.
“What are you doing with that?!”
“Nothing!” Manny lied at once, trying to hide the bag behind his back.
“Liar!” Bernard roared triumphantly. “I saw you, you were trying to throw things away!”
“No!” Manny protested. “No, no, no! I was … um … just taking them for a walk!”
“A walk?” Bernard said, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.
“Yes!” Manny said, grabbing his alibi and running with it. “Don’t you know, it’s good to take, um, mouldy socks for walks. It … gets rid of the mould.”
“I like that mould,” Bernard said firmly. “It’s my mould, I’m not having you getting rid of it! What else is in the bag?”
“Just some books. They were going to get jealous.”
“Well, you can take those for a walk. Take out the socks first!”
And that was how Manny ended up talking fourteen falling-apart books up the road and back, earning him some of the strangest looks he’d got since starting to work with Bernard.
At least, the strangest looks he’d got that week, anyway.
Fandom: Willard Price's Adventure Series
Word Count: 86
Summary: Roger is laughing at Hal.
Roger was laughing. A lot.
“Shut up,” Hal ordered him. “Just … shut up.”
“We have been,” Roger said gleefully. “on hundreds of boats. Safari cars. Planes. A hot air balloon. Dog sled. In storms and rough seas and pretty much everything that you can imagine. We have driven across places with no roads. Rough terrain. And you get travel sick on a bus? In America?”
“I hate you,” Hal told him and buried his head in his hands, waiting for the world to stop spinning.
Title: Nervous Traveller
Fandom: Jonathan Creek
Word Count: 115
Summary: Jonathan is not terribly confident about planes.
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Jonathan muttered.
“Will you relax?” Maddy said irritably. “It’s just a plane, Jonathan. Come on, you don’t want me to start my new job in America all by myself, do you?”
“You only want me there so you can pack more luggage using my allowance!” Jonathan said. “America! What am I going to do in America? And planes. I hope you remembered to book us tickets next to the emergency exit. You’re more likely to survive there in a crash. And don’t you go messing on your mobile phone, I’ll be watching you. And you’d better – ”
Maddy tried to hit him with her handbag.
Word Count: 216
Summary: Percival never expected to end up in Camelot.
Percival tried very hard not to show how nervous he was in Camelot.
It was difficult. All his life, he’d been a simple villager. He’d lived quietly and peacefully and spent most of his time with chickens. Now he was a knight and supposed to remember how to talk to ladies and dance at the occasional ball and talk to nobles.
Gwaine took to it like a duck to water. Elyan had been bought up around nobles, even though he wasn’t one himself. Lancelot seemed completely at ease with his new surroundings (unless any of the women tried to flirt with him) As far as Percival could tell, only he was terrified. Only he felt sick before the times when he had to go down and face the nobles and the gatherings.
The others realised, of course. Suddenly, Percival realised that Gwaine was always at his elbow at certain functions, leaping in when Percival felt himself floundering with a smile and a joke. Elyan casually reminded him of various things that he was supposed to do, without sounding like he was judging him. And Lancelot suggested that they both went to Leon and got some advice – advice that Leon was quite happy to provide.
The knights of Camelot stuck together. And Percival wasn’t alone any more.
Title: Just the Once
Fandom: Blake's 7
Word Count: 1022
Summary: Sometimes, people can be generous, which is why Blake and Avon find themselves very drunk on The Liberator ...
Very occasionally, people actually seemed to appreciate what Blake and the others did for them. Even more occasionally, they actually had time to reap the rewards of that appreciation.
Bavron was like that. The people insisted on keeping them back and inviting them to a party. And Bavrons idea of a party involved a lot of alcohol.
Blake wasn’t complaining. Neither were any of the others. Vila was in his element, naturally, Jenna was looking flushed and happy. Even Avon looked like he wasn’t entirely loathing the proceedings which Blake considered to probably mean he was liking it. It was good to let your hair down once in a while.
Although he did wonder a little bit about what was actually in the drinks. There was a possibility that they were a lot more powerful that they seemed. Fun was all well and good but he would rather none of them got sick.
Eventually, he knew it was time to end the fun and return to the Liberator. Vila had to be dragged away from the lady that he had found and he was still complaining as Cally teleported them all up. She did not look entirely thrilled to see them.
“You’re all drunk.”
“Never!” Vila said, attempting to draw him up to his full height. “We have just been celebrating a job well done!”
Cally glowered at him and Blake tried to hide a smile as Vila darted to her side, seized her hands and pulled her into a dance. Cally made an indignant noise and Jenna began laughing, moving in to try and rescue her. Avon began laughing too, much more loudly than Blake would have expected him to. Clearly, he was drunker than Blake had realised.
“Come on, Avon,” he said, catching the man by the arm as he swayed a little.” Time for bed.”
“Get off, Blake, you’re just as drunk as me.”
“I doubt it,” Blake remarked, noticing that despite Avon’s remark, he wasn’t actually trying to pull away from Blake’s supportive arm. In fact, he was leaning a little, apparently looking to be braced. He was still laughing to himself, more softly now. Blake felt it was probably not an issue. It was just a little strange to see Avon so amused.
“Vila’s an idiot,” Avon said, apparently feeling the need to explain himself a bit. “And he won’t get anywhere with Cally. She and Jenna are lovers you know.”
“I know,” Blake said, a little nettled by the fact that Avon apparently thought he hadn’t noticed. He made it his business to notice everything about his crew, or at least to try to. Romantic couplings were inevitable but potentially a problem. He didn’t think Jenna and Cally would be though. They were sensible.
“Oh yes, I forgot,” Avon said, sounding a little more like his usual self. “The infallible Blake, who knows everything about everyone.”
Blake was just telling himself that he shouldn’t respond as getting into a fight with a drunk Avon was probably stupider than fighting him sober when Avon twisted in his grip. For a moment, Blake thought that Avon was trying to move away from him again before he realised that no, Avon was twisting in the wrong direction for that. Then Avon kissed him.
Blake only let it continue for a second before ducking back from it. He tried to let go of Avon but Avon hung onto him, stumbling slightly.
“Avon, you’re very drunk,” Blake said, suddenly wishing that he wasn’t so tipsy himself. It was easier to sound logical when you weren’t happy from drink and when your mouth wasn’t tingling from being kissed.
“Of course I’m drunk, you fool, do you think I could do this if I wasn’t?!”
That hadn’t been quite what Blake was expecting to hear. Avon seemed to take his silence as consent and kissed him again, his mouth hard and insistent. Blake pulled back again, although there wasn’t really anywhere to go. Avon’s mouth was still incredibly close to his, dangerously close, he could feel Avon’s breath on his lips …
“Avon, this really – ”
“Shut up,” Avon whispered hoarsely. “I don’t care, Blake. I want this, don’t … just … dammit, don’t make me go to Vila!”
And that made it easy then, made it easy to grab at Avon and pull him close, because it wasn’t about what he wanted, it was about protecting Vila and Vila shouldn’t have to go through whatever Avon wanted, it was only fair to take that on himself and it wasn’t because he wanted this, it wasn’t because Avon rutting wildly against him was making his body burn with lust, it wasn’t anything like that, it was just because he had to.
He kept kissing, touching, vaguely aware that they needed to go somewhere more private, just in case, didn’t want to be caught doing this, it wasn’t a good thing to be caught doing in a corridor, even if Avon didn’t seem to care, even if Avon was still kissing and touching him with a hunger that Blake had never expected from him.
“Come on then,” Avon murmured, apparently realising the problem and he all but dragged Blake the last little way to his room, pulling him inside and immediately returning to the frenzied kissing, pulling at Blake’s clothes and Blake reciprocated, frantic and greedy for everything that Avon was going to give him.
It was hot and confused and he knew if they hadn’t both been drunk, it would have been more precise, less fumbled hands and more sense. But oh, it couldn’t have been better, couldn’t have felt better than what they shared that night, Avon laughing and hanging onto him, biting Blake’s shoulders and whispering things in the dark that made Blake shiver.
He knew, somewhere inside him, that it was never going to happen again. That in the morning, Avon would pretend he didn’t remember, would be silent and cold and if Blake even hinted that he’d enjoyed it, Avon would attack with everything that he had.
But some things were worth it. Even if they were just once.
Title: Simple Cure
Fandom: Blake's 7
Word Count: 3042
Summary: There is clearly something wrong with Avon after he returns from a mission and Blake needs to try and help him - if Avon will let himself be helped.
Content Notes: Sex pollen, dubious consent due to that although they all know what they are doing.
Blake had an idea that something had gone wrong with the mission, although he couldn’t put his finger on what it was.
Nothing had obviously gone wrong. Avon and Vila had returned alive and unharmed, everything they had said sounded as though things had worked out the way Blake had hoped they would.
And yet something was nagging at him. Avon had looked oddly flushed and not quite himself, refusing to meet Blake’s eyes and disappearing to his room immediately afterwards. Vila was quieter than usual and fidgeting almost constantly, tapping his fingers and jerking his knee. Maybe that was why Blake was uneasy; he was just irritated by Vila’s constant movement. It didn’t look guilty though. Just … peculiar.
“Vila, what is the matter with you?” He was glad that it was Jenna that asked, not him.
“Nothing!” Vila said, sounding guilty. “I mean … well … don’t you think it’s bit … hot in here?”
“Temperature seems normal to me,” Gan said. “You do look a bit … odd though. Did you touch anything you shouldn’t have down there?”
“Of course not!” Now Vila was sounding insulted, as though he never ever would dream of doing anything so stupid. Usually, this was followed by a confession of some wrong-doing so Blake wasn’t at all surprised when Vila added “Mind you, there was that silver stuff … ”
“What silver stuff?” Blake said, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. Trust Vila to manage to find the just one thing that would get them all in trouble.
“It was on one of the trees,” Vila said. “Sort of like a powdery snow. Came down with a terrible bang, right on top of us. I didn’t get nearly as much as Avon, it was quite funny really. He threatened me with immediate pain if I laughed at him, we brushed it off … didn’t seem very important at the time.”
Blake frowned. Silvery stuff? Could it have been poisonous? The thought had clearly occurred to Vila, he was checking his pulse anxiously and looking at the others for some sort of confirmation that he wasn’t going to drop dead in the next minute.
“Zen?” Jenna asked. “Do you know what that might have been?”
There was a slight pause and then Zen spoke in the usual, completely calm tone.
“They have been sprinkled with Thyros Dust. It is not common on any other planet except that one but the effects are well documented.”
“What effects?!” Vila practically shrieked.
Zen obligingly began a long list of effects, which seemed to start with mild discomfort and restlessness, followed by irrationality and various other things before progressing to high fever and death. Vila had turned pale at the mild discomfort level and looked positively grey before they got anywhere close to the death part.
“What can we do?” Blake asked before Vila could begin to panic.
“The only known cure is sexual intercourse before Stage Four.”
Cally apparently choked on thin air. Gan simply burst out laughing. Vila turned from grey to a slight pink.
“Oh. Well. Which stage am I in?”
“You currently display Stage 2 characteristics of infection.”
“Oh well,” Vila said, sounding much, much happier now. “As long as it’s curable!”
“You assume one of us will volunteer,” Cally remarked, clearly trying to sound like she wasn’t laughing.
“Now, hang on! It can’t be that bad! You wouldn’t let me die when you could so easily save my life!”
“I don’t know,” Gan said, shaking his head. “It is a lot to ask … ”
“Not really! It’s only a little – ”
Vila stopped quickly, probably realising that anything that he said would be a mistake but it was too late, Gan and Cally were both laughing uproariously. Blake wasn’t, although part of him hoped he would be later when this was all behind them. He looked at Jenna, who wasn’t laughing either. They had clearly both had the same thought.
According to Vila’s story, Avon had received the brunt of the stuff. If Vila was infected, Avon undoubtedly was. And if Vila was right and more of it had fallen on him, it was likely Avon was in a far worse state.
And Avon would not be finding this funny at all.
He left the room quietly, fully aware that he didn’t need to worry about Vila. Gan and Cally would tease him for a while but neither of them would let it go too far before one of them took Vila off and sorted him out. Jenna followed him quietly.
“He won’t be happy about this,” she warned, as though Blake hadn’t thought of that himself.
“I know. But he’s practical, he’ll accept it.”
“I’m not so sure,” Jenna said, frowning. “He likes to be in control and this is the very opposite of that, you know.”
Blake knew. He wasn’t absolutely certain he could imagine Avon having sex under normal circumstances. He’d seem him flirt … well, sort of. Probably. It might have been flirting. It was a bit difficult to tell with Avon. The idea of him achieving physical intimacy though, that was almost impossible to picture. Avon jut … didn’t seem the type.
Avon’s door was very firmly shut. Jenna stepped forward and knocked on it gently.
There was no response until she tried to open the door herself. She immediately ducked back as something hurtled at her head.
“Leave me alone!”
Avon’s voice was far shriller than Blake had ever heard it before. Jenna turned and looked at him uncertainly.
“Go back and make sure Cally and Gan aren’t trying to drive Vila insane,” Blake said, giving her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about this, I’ll sort it out.”
“Are you sure?” Jenna asked, looking a bit doubtful. Blake nodded his head, although he wasn’t absolutely. This was entirely possibly going to be a very unpleasant experience for everybody involved but he didn’t think it was fair to ask Jenna to take the brunt of it. He could handle Avon, he was sure of that. Better to do this himself.
Jenna touched his hand and then left. Blake waited until she was quite away before going and knocking on the door himself.
“Leave me alone!”
“I’m coming in, Avon. We need to talk.”
He opened the door and stepped smartly aside, therefore avoiding whatever Avon threw at him. It crashed against the wall with a ringing smash and Blake darted into the room, closing the door behind him as he did and looking out for the next missile.
Avon did not look well. His face was flushed and there was a sheen of sweat on his forehead that Blake wasn’t used to seeing. He glared at Blake furiously, hands clenched into fists. The usually immaculate room looked as though he’d been hurling things around even before Jenna and Blake had tried to come and speak to him. Zen had mentioned this sort of thing when talking about the symptoms. Irrationality. Disturbed state of mind.
“Get out!” Avon shouted at him. “How dare you come into my room? Get out!”
“We need to talk, Avon! You’re sick, or hadn’t you noticed?”
Not the right tack. Avon made a sound rather like a snarl and was clearly looking around for something else to throw. Blake sighed, not wanting to go and restrain him yet. It would only make things worse.
“Avon, that silvery stuff you and Vila got covered with was a type of poison. It’s making you ill, you have to – ”
“You think I don’t know that it’s making me ill? You think I don’t know what it’s doing to me?”
A shudder ran through his body and he stepped further back from Blake, apparently trying to wedge himself into the corner. Blake took a careful step forward, trying not to look as though he was crowding him.
“It’s curable, Avon. We can fix this.”
The glare Avon gave him was roasting. Blake took another step forward, trying to work out exactly how to broach the next part of the cure. Jenna was right, Avon was going to take this very badly indeed.
“What?” Avon snapped at him. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“It’s sex, Avon. The cure is sex.”
Avon’s face went entirely blank which was almost reassuringly close to his usual expression. Something flickered in his eyes. Then he laughed, an unpleasant harsh sort of laugh.
“Avon, don’t be ridiculous.”
He dodged some sort of computer tool that Avon hurled at his head. It slammed against the wall with another very loud thud. Blake hoped Avon wasn’t damaging anything too vital.
“Get out! Get out! I would rather die!”
“Oh for God’s sake!” Blake snapped. “Don’t be childish!”
Avon’s response was to reach for something else to throw and Blake jumped at him, grabbing at his wrists. He caught the left one but Avon managed to take a swing at him with the right, catching him on the shoulder and then on the side of the head.
“Let go of me! Let go! Get out!”
“Avon, stop hitting me!”
Avon did not stop trying to hit him. Blake clenched his teeth, trying to resist the urge to hit Avon back. The man was ill, the last thing that he needed was to actually get into a punch up with somebody, however aggravating he was being. He grabbed at Avon again, managing to catch hold of his elbow and hold him half-still.
“Avon, stop it, Avon, will you just listen, just for once?!”
Avon tried to kick him away. His arm was shaking in Blake’s grip and Blake felt a stab of guilt that he was having such a fight with someone who was so clearly unwell.
It was difficult to hold that in mind when Avon kicked him again, this time catching Blake right on the shin.
“Go on then!” he snarled, his eyes sparkling with malice. “Go on, Blake, show you know better than me, do what you want, rape me, go on then!”
“Don’t be a fool, Avon!”
He faintly wondered as he said it if he would do that. If Avon continued to refuse, would it be the right thing to do to force him?
The idea made him feel sick. No, he couldn’t ever, ever do that. That wasn’t who he was, that wasn’t what he fought for. He had to make Avon see sense, that was the only option.
Of course, it was a bit difficult to reason with a man who was apparently determined to break your nose. Blake tightened his grip on Avon and slammed him against the wall. Avon snarled and kicked out again, this time managing to hook one leg around the back of Blake’s knee. He dragged it forward and Blake found them both tumbling onto the floor, only just missing cracking his head on a nearby table. He accidentally loosened his grip and Avon yanked one of his hands free, flailing slightly, as though he wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to do any more. He was panting hard and his eyes were glassy.
“Damn you!” he ground out, his voice shaking. “God damn you, Blake!”
“Avon – ” Blake began but before he could say anything else, Avon’s mouth had slammed down onto his in a vicious, painful kiss. Blake could feel his lower teeth digging agonisingly into his lip. He tried to pull back and Avon grabbed a handful of his hair, holding him still, still kissing furiously. After a moment, Blake released his grip on Avon’s other wrist and uncertainly put his hand on Avon’s hip. Avon didn’t try to move away. His furious kisses continued and he thrust his other hand under Blake’s top, scratching at Blake’s skin painfully. Blake tried not to hiss with pain, determined not to give Avon everything he wanted. If Avon wanted him to cry out, he was going to have to try harder than that.
Of course, the chances were that Avon would.
Avon suddenly left his mouth and ducked down, biting at Blake’s throat painfully. Blake ground his teeth and squeezed Avon’s hip as hard as he could. Avon jerked and Blake yanked his arm up, shoving his own hand up to claw at Avon’s skin. Avon made an odd noise and went back to biting, moving his way down to mouth at Blake’s shoulder, apparently unworried by the fact that Blake was still dressed.
Blake didn’t speak. He knew that speaking would be a mistake. Ought he try to get Avon to take his clothes off? No, it probably wasn’t going to be that kind of encounter. He kept his hand on Avon’s hip and pushed slightly, implying that Avon might want to remove his trousers if they wanted to take this any further. Avon hissed and the hand that was still in Blake’s hair squeezed, finally dragging a yelp out him. Avon made a sound that was almost a laugh and Blake wondered if it would be particularly wrong to bite back. Probably.
He worked at removing his own trousers instead. It wasn’t easy. Avon didn’t seem willing to move away, he seemed content to remain pressed flush against Blake, nuzzling and scratching. It wouldn’t be enough though. Blake knew that it wouldn’t be enough.
“Avon – ” he risked and Avon hissed, obviously wanting Blake to stay silent. He moved a little though, lifting his hips slightly and giving Blake the chance to shove at first his trousers, then Avon’s. When he touched Avon’s bare skin, Avon made another noise and this time it was more like a gasp. Blake felt his fingers tighten again and this time, he grabbed back, digging his fingers into Avon’s sides. Avon gave another one of his snarls and his mouth returned to cover Blake’s, violent and furious. This time, Blake kissed back. It was more like a fight than anything else, lips and teeth clashing, and yet there was something about it, something that was sending a buzz through him and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that, he wasn’t sure that he wanted to be enjoying this, not this way with blood in his mouth and Avon’s fingers scratching at any bit of skin they could reach.
And yet there was no turning back now, no time to think about what he was doing. He just had to do it, get on with what was happening and let it all wash over him until later. He continued the furious kissing, gasped when Avon reached his hand down and thrust it between his legs, rough and violent still but almost, almost something else, not as rough as he could have been perhaps, and the touch, that wasn’t unpleasant either and he could feel Avon pressed against his thigh and that wasn’t bad either, not as bad as he would have expected it to be –
He realised that he ought to have thought more about preparation when Avon thrust a finger inside him. It was painful and he tried to yank back to order Avon to be careful but the moment their lips separated, Avon laughed, a slightly wild, uncaring noise and Blake was damned if he was going to admit anything after that so he kissed Avon again just to shut him up and tried to brace himself for what was going to come next.
Like all the rest, it wasn’t as bad as he’d expected. Avon seemed to gather a few final shards of control, apparently deciding that he didn’t want to tear into Blake utterly. He fumbled, then thrust and Blake saw stars and he must have made some sort of noise of pain because Avon laughed again, gripping his shoulders so tightly, drawing more blood.
It was over quickly after that. Avon thrust and Blake clung and then Avon was crying out frantically and his fingers were scratching and then he was limp and trembling against Blake, his breath coming in heavy gasps. Blake lay still, trying to ignore the fact that he was still aroused, not wanting to touch himself while Avon was still shivering against him like this, not totally comfortable with the fact that he’d enjoyed this when Avon had barely been in control of himself.
“Feeling sanctimonious, Blake?” Avon’s murmur was drowsy, as though he was seeking bitterness that wouldn’t quite come. “How you suffer for your crew. And who is suffering for Vila’s sake? Gan, perhaps? Or maybe Cally will step up.”
“One of them will,” Blake said quietly. “I’m not feeling anything, Avon.”
“Liar. I can feel what you’re feeling. Enjoyed that, did you? Poor Blake. I’m sure you were hoping I would make it unpleasant for you.”
“You did,” Blake couldn’t help pointing out. “I don’t generally enjoy having my shoulders torn to shreds.”
Avon laughed but it was soft and sleepy. He seemed unable to keep himself awake and Blake guessed it was less to do with the sex and more to do with the poison leaving his system. He slowly sat up, gathering Avon in his arms and lifting him gently onto his bed. Avon didn’t resist. His eyes were closed now. He looked healthier already.
Blake carefully adjusted his clothes, then left the room, closing the door behind him. He didn’t know what Avon would feel when he woke up. He was clever, he’d see the sense, that Blake had saved his life – but he would resent that Blake had saved his life. And in such a way …
Blake shook his head. He had done what he’d had to do. He wouldn’t feel guilty about that.
But he couldn’t shake off the guilt that he’d liked it. That he should have made it clinical, somehow, stayed unemotional. Not become aroused. Not wished that Avon would touch him afterwards, not wish …
He shook his head. There was no point feeling any of this. He needed to go and reassure Jenna that he was still alive. He needed to make sure that Vila was okay. Avon could take care of himself and everything between them would probably go on as normal between them.
Whether Blake liked it or not.