ext_60686 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
rileyc.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
crack_van2006-01-25 11:03 am
rileyc.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2006-01-25 11:03 am
Stages by CHeights (NC-17)
Fandom: Oz
Pairing: Beecher/Keller
Author on LJ:![[profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cheightsAuthor Website: CatHeights
Why this must be read: Because it's by CatHeights, and she's writing about the NYE reunion, interwoven with memories of the not-so-wonderful path that brought them to that point. So there's angst and introspection and oh so sexy toe-curling smut packed in there. That's plenty reason enough.
But, you know, there's also reasons like this:
Wanting Keller is easy, almost instinctual. Beecher thinks it’s a bit like breathing in that hours can go by where he's completely unaware that he's even doing it. Then suddenly awareness breaks to the surface, and he's fighting for control, like someone drowning and struggling for that last gasp of air before relaxing into oblivion.
Or this:
While his fingers can't get enough of Keller, clutching him closer, his arms tingle with the phantom ache of bones once broken. He doesn't want that memory, but it, as well as the memories of rejection, are determined to dance their way out of his skull to duel with desire for the right to scar his skin.
His heart pounds, and he can't stop rubbing against Keller, hardness against hardness. He wants more. He wants it fucking all. Beecher knows he's shaking, bone-deep shudders twisting his body, but he's not sure if he's shaking from desire or from remembered rage.
Keller breaks the kiss and rubs the back of Beecher's neck. "It's all right. There ain't no hurry. I just wanted to kiss you." He follows the word with a gentle kiss.
It's too damn gentle, as if Beecher is some crazed bird that he has to soothe before it stupidly flies itself into a mirror.
"Night," Keller says. He steps backward, undressing and then sprawling across the bottom bunk, wearing just his boxers. One hand rests lazily on his stomach.
How dare he? How fucking dare he? Who the hell is Keller to decide what he's ready for and what he's not, to decide what he wants? Beecher takes a breath, trying to control the shaking. Part of him wants to crawl into Keller's bunk and show him just how ready he is, and his cock is urging him to do just that, but he's not going to do it. He's not ready, and he hates that Keller knows that. How does Keller know that? He thought he'd learned not to be so goddamned transparent.
And lots more like it, just click on the happy little link here to go find it.
Stages
Pairing: Beecher/Keller
Author on LJ:
cheightsAuthor Website: CatHeightsWhy this must be read: Because it's by CatHeights, and she's writing about the NYE reunion, interwoven with memories of the not-so-wonderful path that brought them to that point. So there's angst and introspection and oh so sexy toe-curling smut packed in there. That's plenty reason enough.
But, you know, there's also reasons like this:
Wanting Keller is easy, almost instinctual. Beecher thinks it’s a bit like breathing in that hours can go by where he's completely unaware that he's even doing it. Then suddenly awareness breaks to the surface, and he's fighting for control, like someone drowning and struggling for that last gasp of air before relaxing into oblivion.
Or this:
While his fingers can't get enough of Keller, clutching him closer, his arms tingle with the phantom ache of bones once broken. He doesn't want that memory, but it, as well as the memories of rejection, are determined to dance their way out of his skull to duel with desire for the right to scar his skin.
His heart pounds, and he can't stop rubbing against Keller, hardness against hardness. He wants more. He wants it fucking all. Beecher knows he's shaking, bone-deep shudders twisting his body, but he's not sure if he's shaking from desire or from remembered rage.
Keller breaks the kiss and rubs the back of Beecher's neck. "It's all right. There ain't no hurry. I just wanted to kiss you." He follows the word with a gentle kiss.
It's too damn gentle, as if Beecher is some crazed bird that he has to soothe before it stupidly flies itself into a mirror.
"Night," Keller says. He steps backward, undressing and then sprawling across the bottom bunk, wearing just his boxers. One hand rests lazily on his stomach.
How dare he? How fucking dare he? Who the hell is Keller to decide what he's ready for and what he's not, to decide what he wants? Beecher takes a breath, trying to control the shaking. Part of him wants to crawl into Keller's bunk and show him just how ready he is, and his cock is urging him to do just that, but he's not going to do it. He's not ready, and he hates that Keller knows that. How does Keller know that? He thought he'd learned not to be so goddamned transparent.
And lots more like it, just click on the happy little link here to go find it.
Stages