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Entry tags:
TDIR: Steady
Fandom: The Dark is Rising
Main characters: Will, Bran
Referenced characters: N/a
Pairings: Will/Bran
Contains: N/a
Rating: PG13
Summary: They have the candles for necessity, and yet... For the Porn Battle, although it fades to black.
The candles are for necessity, not atmosphere. The storm is raging on outside, just as it was when they got here. The place would have been chilly and damp enough without the loss of power, without the storm, but when they got in this night, soaked to the skin, it was worse. Bran was thin-lipped with annoyance in the dimness then, finding candles and matches. Ashamed, Will had thought, of the little hospitality he could offer now...
They needed the candles but now they're warmer and starting to get dry, and the light of the candles is all around them, Will feels his throat tighten at the way Bran looks. His hair is still damp, tousled and curling a little, and there's a little colour in his cheeks, and the candles paint his skin in warm gold, light up his tawny eyes. "Bran," he says, softly, and his heart almost stutters at the way Bran looks at him then, warm and knowing. "C'mere," he says, heart full, and Bran comes, crawls over to him. He reaches up, cups the back of Bran's head, carefully tugging him in.
"Will," Bran breathes, against his mouth.
Will grins at him, feeling light, maybe even giddy. "You should take these wet clothes off," he says, and tugs Bran's t-shirt up, pressing his hand flat to Bran's chest to feel the warmth of his damp skin, to feel the steady thud of his heart beating. Then he pulls it all the way off, impatient for more, impatient to taste --
"Steady now," Bran says, in a tone that is not at all steady. Will presses a kiss to his mouth, to the hollow of his throat and then his collarbone, to his stomach. He watches the play of light and shadows over Bran's skin, the beauty of it.
"Bran," he whispers, everything in his voice -- a longing plea, a warm love. Bran shudders and grabs at Will's shirt, tugs it off, tugs him close and into another kiss.
"Forget steady," he says, breathlessly, when the kiss breaks. They grin at each other again, no nerves now, not between them.
Main characters: Will, Bran
Referenced characters: N/a
Pairings: Will/Bran
Contains: N/a
Rating: PG13
Summary: They have the candles for necessity, and yet... For the Porn Battle, although it fades to black.
The candles are for necessity, not atmosphere. The storm is raging on outside, just as it was when they got here. The place would have been chilly and damp enough without the loss of power, without the storm, but when they got in this night, soaked to the skin, it was worse. Bran was thin-lipped with annoyance in the dimness then, finding candles and matches. Ashamed, Will had thought, of the little hospitality he could offer now...
They needed the candles but now they're warmer and starting to get dry, and the light of the candles is all around them, Will feels his throat tighten at the way Bran looks. His hair is still damp, tousled and curling a little, and there's a little colour in his cheeks, and the candles paint his skin in warm gold, light up his tawny eyes. "Bran," he says, softly, and his heart almost stutters at the way Bran looks at him then, warm and knowing. "C'mere," he says, heart full, and Bran comes, crawls over to him. He reaches up, cups the back of Bran's head, carefully tugging him in.
"Will," Bran breathes, against his mouth.
Will grins at him, feeling light, maybe even giddy. "You should take these wet clothes off," he says, and tugs Bran's t-shirt up, pressing his hand flat to Bran's chest to feel the warmth of his damp skin, to feel the steady thud of his heart beating. Then he pulls it all the way off, impatient for more, impatient to taste --
"Steady now," Bran says, in a tone that is not at all steady. Will presses a kiss to his mouth, to the hollow of his throat and then his collarbone, to his stomach. He watches the play of light and shadows over Bran's skin, the beauty of it.
"Bran," he whispers, everything in his voice -- a longing plea, a warm love. Bran shudders and grabs at Will's shirt, tugs it off, tugs him close and into another kiss.
"Forget steady," he says, breathlessly, when the kiss breaks. They grin at each other again, no nerves now, not between them.
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