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_van2004-10-06 04:36 pm
rileyc.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2004-10-06 04:36 pm
Heat by Lora [Rated NC-17]
Fandom: Oz
Pairing: Beecher/Keller
Author on LJ: No
Author Website: None
Why this must be read:
Because it's one of the best AU Oz fics produced. On a very personal note, it was the fic that sold me on the idea of Oz AUs, demonstrating how the complexity of the characters can be maintained in a setting far away from the prison walls of Oswald. The core of the fic is the B/K relationship, but the author doesn't skimp on other characters, painting a very appealing portrait of Shirley Bellinger, and a poignant one of Mama Rebadow. Even the cat from hell, Chester, comes fully alive for us. As does the town itself, right down to the dry, summer heat.
Sadly, the author is no longer active in Oz fandom, but with this fic and the too scant handful of others, she provided some wonderful reading pleasure.
If the silence had stretched on a moment longer he might have been
forced to ask, to verbalize his confusion just to drown out the sound of
the blood pounding in his ears. But then Chris said, "It must be
showtime," and Tobias realized full darkness had fallen. He turned to
the window and concentrated on the sights and sounds below him, trying
to block out his own inner turmoil, hearing voices but not the words.
People were gathered in small clusters around the tent, awaiting some
unknown signal to assemble within; he wondered how many had come here
out of their own religious zeal and how many were merely looking for a
diversion on a hot August night. And what was *he* looking for, that he
had invited this man into this room of heat and shadows, what diversion
did he seek?
He felt the same sense of Chris' proximity that he had earlier in the
office, knew from the heat of him that he had come so close that if he
stepped back, they would touch. And he feared that touch, that heat,
that it would be his undoing. That he'd perish like Icarus, who flew too
near the sun on wings of wax, and he could not step back.
But Chris stepped forward. Tobias felt arms encircle his waist, felt a
brush of lips against his neck as soft as a butterfly's wing, and knew
that he was lost. He leaned back, eyes closed, and Chris' hands sealed
his capture, caressing, claiming. And from below rose the Reverend's
voice, barely on the edge of his consciousness.
Heat
Pairing: Beecher/Keller
Author on LJ: No
Author Website: None
Why this must be read:
Because it's one of the best AU Oz fics produced. On a very personal note, it was the fic that sold me on the idea of Oz AUs, demonstrating how the complexity of the characters can be maintained in a setting far away from the prison walls of Oswald. The core of the fic is the B/K relationship, but the author doesn't skimp on other characters, painting a very appealing portrait of Shirley Bellinger, and a poignant one of Mama Rebadow. Even the cat from hell, Chester, comes fully alive for us. As does the town itself, right down to the dry, summer heat.
Sadly, the author is no longer active in Oz fandom, but with this fic and the too scant handful of others, she provided some wonderful reading pleasure.
If the silence had stretched on a moment longer he might have been
forced to ask, to verbalize his confusion just to drown out the sound of
the blood pounding in his ears. But then Chris said, "It must be
showtime," and Tobias realized full darkness had fallen. He turned to
the window and concentrated on the sights and sounds below him, trying
to block out his own inner turmoil, hearing voices but not the words.
People were gathered in small clusters around the tent, awaiting some
unknown signal to assemble within; he wondered how many had come here
out of their own religious zeal and how many were merely looking for a
diversion on a hot August night. And what was *he* looking for, that he
had invited this man into this room of heat and shadows, what diversion
did he seek?
He felt the same sense of Chris' proximity that he had earlier in the
office, knew from the heat of him that he had come so close that if he
stepped back, they would touch. And he feared that touch, that heat,
that it would be his undoing. That he'd perish like Icarus, who flew too
near the sun on wings of wax, and he could not step back.
But Chris stepped forward. Tobias felt arms encircle his waist, felt a
brush of lips against his neck as soft as a butterfly's wing, and knew
that he was lost. He leaned back, eyes closed, and Chris' hands sealed
his capture, caressing, claiming. And from below rose the Reverend's
voice, barely on the edge of his consciousness.
Heat
no subject