ext_7649 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
st-crispins.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
crack_van2004-11-07 10:45 am
st-crispins.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2004-11-07 10:45 am
Entry tags:
Services Rendered By Nyssa (NC-17)
Fandom: THE MAN FROM U.N.C.L.E.
Pairing: Solo/Kuryakin (implied)
Author on LJ: No.
Author website: None, but this story and others from the same author can be found at the Chrome and Gunmetal Madhouse, http://chromeandgunmetal.com/chrome/
Why this must be read:
I love this story and I have recc'd it repeatedly to both slash and gen fans. It's told from the POV of an original character, a young, unnamed male hooker who is picked up one night by a mysterious handsome man who offers the exorbitant fee of one hundred dollars for a quick rendezvous. The narrator is constantly surprised by his customer - by the man's strange mix of danger and gentleness, by his sure touch and ability to please sexually, but also by the gun he wears and the wicked scars that mark his body.
We're not surprised, of course. It's obviously Napoleon Solo, only one who's harder, darker, bitter and more melancholy. Something is not quite right here, and we, like the young hooker, are almost afraid to ask what's really going on. And we should be.
This is an intense, haunting story that not only paints an incisive portrait of Solo (it's authentic right down to the most minor details), but also offers a realistically voiced and thoroughly convincing OC narrator as well. The story packs an emotional wallop that will stay with you long after it's over. It's worth reading for the dialogue alone:
"I'd say you're worth a man's soul, Blue Eyes," he murmured. "However, I'm afraid I've already parted with that. One hundred." He suited the action to the words, producing a bill of that denomination from a black leather wallet.
This was a very interesting evening. I hoped my face didn't register my surprise.
"That sounds fair." I took the hundred and stuffed it into my jeans pocket.
"Then let's be on our way. To your place. I assume it's nearby?"
I nodded. "Come on."
We had gone a block down the street when a thought struck me. "What's the going rate for a soul?"
He looked sharply at me, then glanced away.
"Not nearly enough. I'm afraid it's a buyer's market."
Services Rendered
Pairing: Solo/Kuryakin (implied)
Author on LJ: No.
Author website: None, but this story and others from the same author can be found at the Chrome and Gunmetal Madhouse, http://chromeandgunmetal.com/chrome/
Why this must be read:
I love this story and I have recc'd it repeatedly to both slash and gen fans. It's told from the POV of an original character, a young, unnamed male hooker who is picked up one night by a mysterious handsome man who offers the exorbitant fee of one hundred dollars for a quick rendezvous. The narrator is constantly surprised by his customer - by the man's strange mix of danger and gentleness, by his sure touch and ability to please sexually, but also by the gun he wears and the wicked scars that mark his body.
We're not surprised, of course. It's obviously Napoleon Solo, only one who's harder, darker, bitter and more melancholy. Something is not quite right here, and we, like the young hooker, are almost afraid to ask what's really going on. And we should be.
This is an intense, haunting story that not only paints an incisive portrait of Solo (it's authentic right down to the most minor details), but also offers a realistically voiced and thoroughly convincing OC narrator as well. The story packs an emotional wallop that will stay with you long after it's over. It's worth reading for the dialogue alone:
"I'd say you're worth a man's soul, Blue Eyes," he murmured. "However, I'm afraid I've already parted with that. One hundred." He suited the action to the words, producing a bill of that denomination from a black leather wallet.
This was a very interesting evening. I hoped my face didn't register my surprise.
"That sounds fair." I took the hundred and stuffed it into my jeans pocket.
"Then let's be on our way. To your place. I assume it's nearby?"
I nodded. "Come on."
We had gone a block down the street when a thought struck me. "What's the going rate for a soul?"
He looked sharply at me, then glanced away.
"Not nearly enough. I'm afraid it's a buyer's market."
Services Rendered