poisontaster (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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crack_van2008-09-09 02:34 pm
poisontaster) wrote in crack_van2008-09-09 02:34 pm
Entry tags:
Rest In Pieces by Lostakasha (NC-17)
Hi, I'm PT, and I'm your reccer for RPS this month. Sorry for the late start. Largely, what I read is CWRPS, but I like rare and unusual pairings, so I'm going to interpret that pretty liberally. Hopefully, you'll be as excited about some of the things I rec as I am.
Fandom: RPS
Pairing: David Boreanaz/TJ Thyne, David Boreanaz/Jason Behr, David Boreanaz/Christian Kane, implied Jensen Ackles/Chris Kane
Length: 6,000(ish)
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lostakasha
Author Website: None.
Why this must be read: I had a lot of debate about whether to rec this story because it has a (small) personal connection, but the fact that I didn't knowlostakasha when she wrote it, I think mitigates any guilt I have about it. The truth is, I find the story too excellent to scruple much about it anyway. I love it SO MUCH that when she purged her insanejournal where it was originally posted, I hunted her down through mutual friends and begged her to repost it somewhere. That's love, man.
The short version of why this should be read: Because it's hot and smart.
I cut my baby RPS teeth on Boreanaz/Kane slash. And though I've largely thrown it over for CWRPS, we have a history. What I love most about this story is that sense of history; of people who have met and intersected and pulled apart and drawn together again over periods of years, hurting each other, loving each other more than they should, in ways that hurt and damage as much as they heal. This is a h/c smorgasbord.
There are different things Akasha does with characterization here. Every one of the characters has been through the same kind of Hollywood crucible--being young, stupid, famous and (relatively) rich; too many drugs, too many parties, messy break-ups and misunderstandings. In a race that they all started more or less together, however, they've all ended up in very different places. Boreanaz and Thyne have come through those crazy, hedonistic days and found something greater than themselves, a sense of Zen peacefulness that infuses the story itself. Behr hasn't come quite as far as that; he's The Seeker, looking for that same sense of surety about himself and his situation but not quite daring to take that last leap of faith that the ground will be there if he jumps. Kane...Kane is The Lost.
I think a lot of times, people want to soften Chris Kane. He often appears as The Wise Man, an elder statesmen in the baby canon of CWRPS. One of the many things I love about Lostakasha's story is that she doesn't soften him; if anything, she makes him so sharp and brittle that he cuts even himself. A man still lost in the same mazes of ghosts and vices that the others have (largely) escaped.
There's also an extended metaphor of food throughout the story that is just awesome. Lostakasha is an extremely sensory writer, giving you so much more than what the eye sees or the brain knows. There's a lot of literal and metaphorical hunger and an oblique discussion of who has it, who wants it, how they get it, share it or withold it.
I know, I know...you're just here for the smut. Okay, look:
It was worse than not talking at all.
Worse than licking Dave’s come off his lips with a wicked grin, calling tag, and pushing into a crowd of partiers, heart racing, cock still hard and aching, mind blank but for one single solitary thought: want you. So much worse.
Such ease in the way he moved, the way he sat back and laughed and winced and wet his lips in genuine curiosity. Relaxed, present in that moment and looking at Jason with so much naked interest, no shadows or ghosts to be seen. When TJ excused himself and passed behind Dave’s chair, he’d reached up and caught TJ’s wrist, pulled it down to his mouth and kissed it, eyes fluttering closed. TJ pressed a kiss into the crown of his head and kept going; when David looked at Jason again there wasn’t a trace of anything he would have expected.
No lewd dare. No glimmer of possessive greed. No invitation. Just an expression of feeling. Simple. Open. Honest.
Discomfort flushed Jason’s cheeks; he could watch people fucking or pissing or both and never think to blush. But seeing David react with unguarded affection made sweat pop on the back of his neck and dried his mouth. He pushed the chair back and stood, jerked his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the gate.
“Thanks,” he said, clearing his throat. “I have to go.” Backing away like a peeping tom, caught and shamed.
I’m not a high-school kid, but I played one on TV. What the fuck is wrong with this picture? With him? With me?
“No, you don’t,” TJ said.
Hands on his hips, he strode up to him, eyes bluer than the afternoon sky released from the grip of the smog.
“Long drive for a quick beer,” Dave quipped. His chair scraped the tile; in the space between heartbeats he was framing TJ with massive arms. Graceful fingers trailed down the dark path of furze in the center of TJ’s abdomen, crawling into his open fly and disappearing. TJ’s eyes shuttered closed and his chest rose hard as he turned his face into Dave’s shoulder. A flick of pink tongue on a long, tanned expanse of clavicle sparked Dave’s throaty, lascivious laugh.
Jason caught another flash of pink, dark as the red grapes that had exploded on their tongues, as Dave pulled TJ’s cock and balls from his jeans, rubbing and caressing, coaxing blood to muscle.
At once there was something resoundingly familiar for Jason to connect to. TJ’s luminous intensity when he looked back at him, indigo gaze flashing to a color pale as stars; the dark storm of arousal and need in David’s eyes, the quirk of lips plumped with wanton fury stretching to reveal a smile that dimmed any other source of light.
This was what he knew. What he craved.
This is who they are.
Rest In Pieces
Fandom: RPS
Pairing: David Boreanaz/TJ Thyne, David Boreanaz/Jason Behr, David Boreanaz/Christian Kane, implied Jensen Ackles/Chris Kane
Length: 6,000(ish)
Author on LJ:
lostakashaAuthor Website: None.
Why this must be read: I had a lot of debate about whether to rec this story because it has a (small) personal connection, but the fact that I didn't know
lostakasha when she wrote it, I think mitigates any guilt I have about it. The truth is, I find the story too excellent to scruple much about it anyway. I love it SO MUCH that when she purged her insanejournal where it was originally posted, I hunted her down through mutual friends and begged her to repost it somewhere. That's love, man.The short version of why this should be read: Because it's hot and smart.
I cut my baby RPS teeth on Boreanaz/Kane slash. And though I've largely thrown it over for CWRPS, we have a history. What I love most about this story is that sense of history; of people who have met and intersected and pulled apart and drawn together again over periods of years, hurting each other, loving each other more than they should, in ways that hurt and damage as much as they heal. This is a h/c smorgasbord.
There are different things Akasha does with characterization here. Every one of the characters has been through the same kind of Hollywood crucible--being young, stupid, famous and (relatively) rich; too many drugs, too many parties, messy break-ups and misunderstandings. In a race that they all started more or less together, however, they've all ended up in very different places. Boreanaz and Thyne have come through those crazy, hedonistic days and found something greater than themselves, a sense of Zen peacefulness that infuses the story itself. Behr hasn't come quite as far as that; he's The Seeker, looking for that same sense of surety about himself and his situation but not quite daring to take that last leap of faith that the ground will be there if he jumps. Kane...Kane is The Lost.
I think a lot of times, people want to soften Chris Kane. He often appears as The Wise Man, an elder statesmen in the baby canon of CWRPS. One of the many things I love about Lostakasha's story is that she doesn't soften him; if anything, she makes him so sharp and brittle that he cuts even himself. A man still lost in the same mazes of ghosts and vices that the others have (largely) escaped.
There's also an extended metaphor of food throughout the story that is just awesome. Lostakasha is an extremely sensory writer, giving you so much more than what the eye sees or the brain knows. There's a lot of literal and metaphorical hunger and an oblique discussion of who has it, who wants it, how they get it, share it or withold it.
I know, I know...you're just here for the smut. Okay, look:
It was worse than not talking at all.
Worse than licking Dave’s come off his lips with a wicked grin, calling tag, and pushing into a crowd of partiers, heart racing, cock still hard and aching, mind blank but for one single solitary thought: want you. So much worse.
Such ease in the way he moved, the way he sat back and laughed and winced and wet his lips in genuine curiosity. Relaxed, present in that moment and looking at Jason with so much naked interest, no shadows or ghosts to be seen. When TJ excused himself and passed behind Dave’s chair, he’d reached up and caught TJ’s wrist, pulled it down to his mouth and kissed it, eyes fluttering closed. TJ pressed a kiss into the crown of his head and kept going; when David looked at Jason again there wasn’t a trace of anything he would have expected.
No lewd dare. No glimmer of possessive greed. No invitation. Just an expression of feeling. Simple. Open. Honest.
Discomfort flushed Jason’s cheeks; he could watch people fucking or pissing or both and never think to blush. But seeing David react with unguarded affection made sweat pop on the back of his neck and dried his mouth. He pushed the chair back and stood, jerked his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the gate.
“Thanks,” he said, clearing his throat. “I have to go.” Backing away like a peeping tom, caught and shamed.
I’m not a high-school kid, but I played one on TV. What the fuck is wrong with this picture? With him? With me?
“No, you don’t,” TJ said.
Hands on his hips, he strode up to him, eyes bluer than the afternoon sky released from the grip of the smog.
“Long drive for a quick beer,” Dave quipped. His chair scraped the tile; in the space between heartbeats he was framing TJ with massive arms. Graceful fingers trailed down the dark path of furze in the center of TJ’s abdomen, crawling into his open fly and disappearing. TJ’s eyes shuttered closed and his chest rose hard as he turned his face into Dave’s shoulder. A flick of pink tongue on a long, tanned expanse of clavicle sparked Dave’s throaty, lascivious laugh.
Jason caught another flash of pink, dark as the red grapes that had exploded on their tongues, as Dave pulled TJ’s cock and balls from his jeans, rubbing and caressing, coaxing blood to muscle.
At once there was something resoundingly familiar for Jason to connect to. TJ’s luminous intensity when he looked back at him, indigo gaze flashing to a color pale as stars; the dark storm of arousal and need in David’s eyes, the quirk of lips plumped with wanton fury stretching to reveal a smile that dimmed any other source of light.
This was what he knew. What he craved.
This is who they are.
Rest In Pieces
no subject
But your thoughts are what really hooked me. Food metaphors, sensory details...yuuuummm. I love that kind of thing. I also love the idea of Chris being the complete antithesis of soft. He strikes me as someone who would have a bit of a nasty streak, and I don't mean in a sexual way in this case. Not sure why, I just know that the super-easygoing, laidback goodtimes partyboy he's usually depicted as in the fics I've read have never quite gelled with my idea of him. Maybe it's because his eyes have a certain glint.
Anyway, I won't read the exerpt because I don't want to be spoiled (as in spoiler, I mean), but you've totally convinced me to check out the fic, which I'll do once I've gotten some sleep. I really look forward to more of your recs. Thanks for sharing. :)