a little more
Dec. 18th, 2007 06:49 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
maderrThanks for the edits in the last two, I'll make'em to the main file ^_^
More stuffs, and I guess shortly I should finally stop posting in little bits and pieces.
I am soooo running late today and totally don't care >_>
Locke shouldered his duffle bag and slammed the trunk closed, then shoved his keys into the front left pocket of his jeans. Turning around, he started to cross the parking lot to the motel room they'd rented for the night.
One flat and a nasty mess of snow did not pleasant traveling make. Fuck it was the unanimous decision; the vampires could wait an extra day to get shot.
He'd taken three steps when he realized that the rather nice looking backside crouched in front of the bushes off to the left belonged to someone he knew. A sinking suspicion growing, he stomped through the snow and ice to where Key was all but buried in the bushes – and Locke could hear all too familiar noises coming from him.
Noises which elicited pathetic mewling sounds in response.
Stifling a groan, Locke dropped his duffle bag and crossed his arms. "No." He nudged Key's lower back with the toe of his boot. "I said no."
"Aww," Key said in protest, slowly standing up and turning around, arms curled against his chest – and a tiny kitten cradled in them. It was the color of soot, with bright green eyes way too big for it's evil, manipulative little face. "It's all alone. No sign of mama."
"No," Locke said again. "We travel too much for pets, and – just no. I'm not arguing about this. You're pretty, but that doesn't mean you can act like a girl and try to adopt every cute stray that stumbles into your path. Come on, be a man and put the kitten down."
Key ignored him, stomping away from the bushes and across the parking lot, stopping only to swipe his keycard before vanishing into his room.
Locked watched him go, and could tell from the set of Key's shoulders that he was in deep shit for the acting like a girl crack.
Sighing, he picked his duffle back up and made for the room.
It was old and dingy, with the same part mold, part too much cleaner smell that all hotels seemed to have no matter how up or downscale they were.
Key sat Indian-style on the farthest bed, back to Locke.
Biting back another sigh, Locke threw his bag on the floor and knelt to dig out the few things he wanted close to hand. He was already wearing the Desert Eagle, but he'd be happier with one of the Blackhawks and he needed to ward the doors on the chance an unwanted guest tried to pay them a visit.
No one gave a fuck if a few or even several broken vamps died – vamps wouldn't kill their own, but they didn't fight too much if certain among them got personal with a silver bullet. Killing an average vamp…fifty fifty. A week and a half later, nothing fanged was bitching about it, so they were probably safe.
Never paid to be sloppy, however. His dad would kick his fucking ass. If his mom didn't do it first.
He glanced up as he finished checking and loading his gun, sliding it into the holster at his hip.
Still being ignored.
Damn it. He fucking hated when Key ignored him.
Heaving a loud sigh, he made certain he had his wallet and tromped back out to the car.
When he returned an hour later short a chunk of change he would have preferred to put toward a good steak dinner. Depositing all the stupid crap on Key's bed, he sat down in a nearby chair to remove his boots, then snatched up the TV remote and collapsed on his own bed.
After a moment he sat up to shuck of his jacket and guns, then lay back down in just his lightweight blue sweater. There wasn't much on, and he doubted he'd fucking notice if the Cowboys suddenly decided to start playing football in their birthday suits.
He turned the TV off again. "So what did you name it and how the hell are we going to lug the damn thing around with us? Cats don't travel well."
The silence dragged on, and Locke was about to go back out for the beer he'd almost gotten in the first place when Key finally broke it. "I'm not a fucking girl, you asshole."
"I know," Locke replied with a sigh that part aggravation, part relief. "I'm sorry – but come on, it's just a damned kitten."
"Yeah, well, it was freezing to death," Key replied. "If I'm not going to leave someone as grouchy and foul-mouthed as you to freeze his ass off in the snow, I'm sure as fuck not going to leave a tiny kitten. I'll give it to your fucking cousin when we see her for Christmas."
Locke rolled his eyes. Key would give up the kitten the same way he'd give being grouchy and foul-mouthed. Like fucking hell he'd be giving up the damned kitten – not after Locke had sacrificed his fucking steak dinner to buy shit for the fluffy menace.
Whom Key was still petting, with his back still to Locke, and what a shitty evening this was turning out to be. If a vamp did stop by, Locke was going to offer it a snack.
He turned the TV on again and decided sullenly on watching the news. There was the temptation to order straight porn just to see Key get all twitchy over the boobs, but if he was still being partially ignored then he wouldn't get much of a reaction.
Sighing, he lay down completely on the bed and pulled his cap down over his eyes. It was entirely unfuckingfair that he had to put up with all this shit but didn't get sex.
Of course, that was also his own fucking fault, if he felt like being honest which he didn't.
"Sulking doesn't look good on you, sweetheart," Key said.
Locke didn't reply. See how Key liked being ignored.
He heard movement, then there was a dip in his bed as Key sat down on the edge.
"You suck at ignoring me, Locke," Key said.
Locke didn't say anything – but he did tense when a hand slid over his stomach, warm even through the layers of sweater and undershirt. Still he didn't look up, or otherwise move. Mostly cause if he did the hand would go away, and he didn't give a fuck if his instincts said that secrets meant no sex – that hand felt good.
His cap was pushed back, away, and he didn't need to open his eyes to know Key was way too close for comfort. He opened them anyway, immediately done in by too-blue eyes.
He liked to think Key kissed him, but looking back later he never really knew for sure. The way Key wound up straddling him he also preferred to think of as not his fault, but really he preferred not to think about.
He tasted like peppermint and coffee, a pretty damned tasty combination in its own right and all the better for tasting like Key too.
As apologies for adopting stupid kittens and ignoring partners went, Locke thought it was pretty damned good – even if he suspected Key wasn't apologizing so much as mollifying.
It was the knock at the door that broke them apart. They stared at each other.
The knock came again, and torn between annoyance and relief, Locke twisted so that Key was lying prone on the bed. Untangling their limbs, he grabbed the nearest of his guns – the Desert Eagle – and strode to the door.
More stuffs, and I guess shortly I should finally stop posting in little bits and pieces.
I am soooo running late today and totally don't care >_>
Locke shouldered his duffle bag and slammed the trunk closed, then shoved his keys into the front left pocket of his jeans. Turning around, he started to cross the parking lot to the motel room they'd rented for the night.
One flat and a nasty mess of snow did not pleasant traveling make. Fuck it was the unanimous decision; the vampires could wait an extra day to get shot.
He'd taken three steps when he realized that the rather nice looking backside crouched in front of the bushes off to the left belonged to someone he knew. A sinking suspicion growing, he stomped through the snow and ice to where Key was all but buried in the bushes – and Locke could hear all too familiar noises coming from him.
Noises which elicited pathetic mewling sounds in response.
Stifling a groan, Locke dropped his duffle bag and crossed his arms. "No." He nudged Key's lower back with the toe of his boot. "I said no."
"Aww," Key said in protest, slowly standing up and turning around, arms curled against his chest – and a tiny kitten cradled in them. It was the color of soot, with bright green eyes way too big for it's evil, manipulative little face. "It's all alone. No sign of mama."
"No," Locke said again. "We travel too much for pets, and – just no. I'm not arguing about this. You're pretty, but that doesn't mean you can act like a girl and try to adopt every cute stray that stumbles into your path. Come on, be a man and put the kitten down."
Key ignored him, stomping away from the bushes and across the parking lot, stopping only to swipe his keycard before vanishing into his room.
Locked watched him go, and could tell from the set of Key's shoulders that he was in deep shit for the acting like a girl crack.
Sighing, he picked his duffle back up and made for the room.
It was old and dingy, with the same part mold, part too much cleaner smell that all hotels seemed to have no matter how up or downscale they were.
Key sat Indian-style on the farthest bed, back to Locke.
Biting back another sigh, Locke threw his bag on the floor and knelt to dig out the few things he wanted close to hand. He was already wearing the Desert Eagle, but he'd be happier with one of the Blackhawks and he needed to ward the doors on the chance an unwanted guest tried to pay them a visit.
No one gave a fuck if a few or even several broken vamps died – vamps wouldn't kill their own, but they didn't fight too much if certain among them got personal with a silver bullet. Killing an average vamp…fifty fifty. A week and a half later, nothing fanged was bitching about it, so they were probably safe.
Never paid to be sloppy, however. His dad would kick his fucking ass. If his mom didn't do it first.
He glanced up as he finished checking and loading his gun, sliding it into the holster at his hip.
Still being ignored.
Damn it. He fucking hated when Key ignored him.
Heaving a loud sigh, he made certain he had his wallet and tromped back out to the car.
When he returned an hour later short a chunk of change he would have preferred to put toward a good steak dinner. Depositing all the stupid crap on Key's bed, he sat down in a nearby chair to remove his boots, then snatched up the TV remote and collapsed on his own bed.
After a moment he sat up to shuck of his jacket and guns, then lay back down in just his lightweight blue sweater. There wasn't much on, and he doubted he'd fucking notice if the Cowboys suddenly decided to start playing football in their birthday suits.
He turned the TV off again. "So what did you name it and how the hell are we going to lug the damn thing around with us? Cats don't travel well."
The silence dragged on, and Locke was about to go back out for the beer he'd almost gotten in the first place when Key finally broke it. "I'm not a fucking girl, you asshole."
"I know," Locke replied with a sigh that part aggravation, part relief. "I'm sorry – but come on, it's just a damned kitten."
"Yeah, well, it was freezing to death," Key replied. "If I'm not going to leave someone as grouchy and foul-mouthed as you to freeze his ass off in the snow, I'm sure as fuck not going to leave a tiny kitten. I'll give it to your fucking cousin when we see her for Christmas."
Locke rolled his eyes. Key would give up the kitten the same way he'd give being grouchy and foul-mouthed. Like fucking hell he'd be giving up the damned kitten – not after Locke had sacrificed his fucking steak dinner to buy shit for the fluffy menace.
Whom Key was still petting, with his back still to Locke, and what a shitty evening this was turning out to be. If a vamp did stop by, Locke was going to offer it a snack.
He turned the TV on again and decided sullenly on watching the news. There was the temptation to order straight porn just to see Key get all twitchy over the boobs, but if he was still being partially ignored then he wouldn't get much of a reaction.
Sighing, he lay down completely on the bed and pulled his cap down over his eyes. It was entirely unfuckingfair that he had to put up with all this shit but didn't get sex.
Of course, that was also his own fucking fault, if he felt like being honest which he didn't.
"Sulking doesn't look good on you, sweetheart," Key said.
Locke didn't reply. See how Key liked being ignored.
He heard movement, then there was a dip in his bed as Key sat down on the edge.
"You suck at ignoring me, Locke," Key said.
Locke didn't say anything – but he did tense when a hand slid over his stomach, warm even through the layers of sweater and undershirt. Still he didn't look up, or otherwise move. Mostly cause if he did the hand would go away, and he didn't give a fuck if his instincts said that secrets meant no sex – that hand felt good.
His cap was pushed back, away, and he didn't need to open his eyes to know Key was way too close for comfort. He opened them anyway, immediately done in by too-blue eyes.
He liked to think Key kissed him, but looking back later he never really knew for sure. The way Key wound up straddling him he also preferred to think of as not his fault, but really he preferred not to think about.
He tasted like peppermint and coffee, a pretty damned tasty combination in its own right and all the better for tasting like Key too.
As apologies for adopting stupid kittens and ignoring partners went, Locke thought it was pretty damned good – even if he suspected Key wasn't apologizing so much as mollifying.
It was the knock at the door that broke them apart. They stared at each other.
The knock came again, and torn between annoyance and relief, Locke twisted so that Key was lying prone on the bed. Untangling their limbs, he grabbed the nearest of his guns – the Desert Eagle – and strode to the door.
no subject
Date: 2007-12-18 12:24 pm (UTC)Awesome snippet. I'm glad I live halfway around the world and get the update just before I go to sleep. Nice way to end the day. ^_^
no subject
Date: 2007-12-18 02:06 pm (UTC)Yay, kitty!!!! I love the way you set that up at the beginning. I wasn't sure what Key was doing... ;p
Stop posting in bits and pieces!! I hope that means we still get to read, though. *bites nails*
*snugs*
no subject
Date: 2007-12-18 02:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-18 03:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-18 04:31 pm (UTC)Do they make up for it when they finally get together? :D
no subject
Date: 2007-12-18 08:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-18 08:50 pm (UTC)*lights up like a pinball game*
*wibbling madly*
no subject
Date: 2007-12-18 10:27 pm (UTC)One little edit: Locked watched him go, and could tell from the set of Key's shoulders that he was in deep shit for the acting like a girl crack.
Locke
no subject
Date: 2007-12-18 11:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-18 11:14 pm (UTC)Plot trick but one that amuses Megan way way way too much. It always makes me laugh, cause it's so goddamn cheap and mean. I can't help myself, I am five.
no subject
Date: 2007-12-19 01:57 am (UTC)It's 9:55 am in the MORNING and already my day is shaping up to be truly horrific.
Thank you, am EXTREMELY thankful for this.
hm... don't get me wrong, I like muchly, but I think Locke has a good idea to leave Key alone. Buried secrets always pop up to bite you where it hurts. However I do believe that insulting Key's masculinity was a Bad Move.
no subject
Date: 2007-12-19 03:18 am (UTC)The kiss - mm, I have mixed feelings. It could be a good thing if Locke has been stubborn forever and if his reasons don't apply as much to this situation than they would have to the last one. And then it could be a bad thing in several ways. One, Key's secret could be big-bad news and it might, with emotions on high, push them apart when it comes out. Two, Locke could feel forced or something, and three - well, I had a three and then it wandered out of my head. So, summary - kiss makes me a wee bit anxious.
Just one edit - When he returned an hour later short a chunk of change he would have preferred to put toward a good steak dinner. I think you intended that to go somewhere beyond the period - you could take out the when or combine it with the next sentence or stick 'he was' in there.
no subject
Date: 2007-12-20 12:58 am (UTC)