killingsoftly: (huh?)
The Sidhe needed to go. What had started as his reward was rapidly becoming a pain in his arse. Not that it wasn't nice to find someone with that kind of stamina, but Devin needed his space. He wasn't used to sharing, especially not when it wasn't by his own choice and design. But Fergus wasn't leaving, and it was...maddening.

Half of the maddening annoyance was the fear that he'd wake up and Fergus would just be gone never to be seen again. Not that he wanted him around, but he wanted him to want to be around. Not off laughing about his tumble with one of the Leanan Sidhe. A story to carry back to his Prince so they could laugh at the half-breed and ...

He broke off the thought viciously as he hit a discordant note on the guitar. Fergus winced slightly at the sound, glancing over.

"Why are you still here?"

"Do you want me to go?"


They stared at each other for a long minute, with Fergus looking surprised and Devin stubborn and hostile and just a bit petulant.

Fergus sighed, a long drawn out sound. "Why?"

It was Devin's turn to blink. "I think I've been sufficiently rewarded for my good behavior." Enough to keep him on his best behavior to stave off further rewards of this kind.

Fergus smiled a little to himself. "Ah."

"So you can go." Devin's voice implied the sooner that was accomplished, the better.


Devin threw a pillow at his head. )
killingsoftly: (Wanna?)
He was aching when he walked into the bar. He wasn't used to behaving so well. Behaving at all. He saw something pretty, he wanted, he seduced, he took. It's the way it went. Stupid Ladies and their stupid promises. He'd behaved. He'd kept his hands to himself, mostly, and what touching there'd been had not been inappropriate.

The boy needed to get laid, but the last thing he needed was for it to be by someone he didn't want and only gave into because of magic or confusion or feeling vulnerable.

"Tequila. Straight." He grabbed a handful of limes, feeling the juice sting the little cuts on his fingers where he'd pressed too hard against the guitar strings. Better the narrow coil of the string than soft flesh, heated and stretched over taut muscles that gleamed with a fine sheen of sweat before they'd even...

He slammed the shot, then gestured for another. Then a third. Right. That took the edge off and he was at least breathing normally and scanning the room with a predator's gaze when cool fingers curled around his.

"You look flushed." Cool voice as well, like clean water over stones, with a trace of music running through it.

One of them? Here? He looked over sharply and met smiling blue eyes.

"One might even say overheated." Amusement in that voice now, though Devin heard mocking and snarled, snatching his hand back.

"What do you want?"

Fergus shrugged and motioned the bartender to set him up a shot as well.

Read more... )


killingsoftly: (Default)

September 2007

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