rareslash | Ficlet: Sensations; Trainspotting Slash; R (Sick Boy/OC, Sick Boy/Renton-ish)

Title: Sensations
Author:

tumblingxdown
Movie(s): Trainspotting; Sick Boy/OMC, Rents/Sick Boy-ish
Rating: R
Summary: Mark intrudes on something.
Disclaimer: I do not own, nor am I implying I own, the rights or characters of the book and movie Trainspotting. This is purely for fun and no money is being made.
Archive: No
Notes: Yes, I do completely suck at making up titles and writing summaries. Sorry about that. I'm experimenting, when it comes to the style, because normally my fics are all dialogue, but I'm trying to branch out. Please, tell me what you think. Feedback and constructive critcism is welcomed with cookies and chocolate milk (cow or soy, whichever you prefer). Crossposted to

movieslash and

rareslash.

Mark has seen two guys fucking before. Normally heroin was enough, it could satiate all desire, leaving the user breathless and numb, and feeling so fucking good. But sometimes, when the powder isn't pure enough, or the high wears off too quickly, the need to continue feeling is strong, to clutch onto it for just a few more moments. And sensations are sensations when it all comes down to it. An orgasm is an orgasm, so when those feelings take over, you reach for the closest thing, male or female, because it didn't really matter, not when it felt so fucking good. For most of them, it wasn't anything new.

What was new, however, is walking into your friend's room--your women worshiping, only glance at a guy when he's completely fucked up, yet recently sober friend--and find him on his knees, naked and thrusting into a body that was decidedly not female.

Renton froze, knowing he was intruding and that the right thing to do would be to leave, but he didn't give a fuck at all about doing the right thing, so he stayed. He watched Simon's hands gripping tanned hips, their bodies moving together, sweat shining in the light, and Sick's grunts filling the air coupled by the whimpers and moans from a 20-something kid Mark didn't recognize.

Now Renton isn't blind. He knows Sick Boy is sexy. He is a hot motherfucker, no one would dispute that. Everything from his eyes, to his hair, to his smile just oozed something that many couldn't resist. Intentionally or not, Simon had broken a lot of hearts in his lifetime and up until that moment, Rents had been virtually immune. There was that one kiss, when they were teenagers, horny and drunk at a party, but it was over before it even really started and not ten minutes later Simon had some pretty brunette with perfect tits back against a wall, his hand slowly working it's way up her skirt as the girl moaned and pressed her body closer. But that kiss had meant nothing really. It wasn't mentioned ever again, and Rents hadn't thought about it in years, not until right now watching Sick push and move and bury himself in this kid. Mark felt the pull of Simon, the pull of those eyes and that mouth, something deep in his stomach was twisting and heat began spreading through his body.

His eyes roamed over the two. Sweeping over the tanned body of Simon's mystery fuck, moving to where his and kid's bodies connected, watching as Sick's cock disappeared inside the boy and reappeared, in and out, in, out, in.... His eyes continued up Simon's strong legs, over the bump of his ass and across his chest up to his face and locking onto two very familiar eyes.

Mark jumped back as if he'd been slapped, the force of Simon's gaze startling him. The lust and amusement apparent. He'd been caught, and the smirk on Simon's face was pissing him off. The look that clearly said, 'ha, you wish you were me, don'tcha?' and any other time it would have been true. Who wouldn't want to be Sick Boy? The guy was charming and sexy and smooth and everything Mark wasn't. But at that moment, the look was completely wrong. Mark didn't want to be Simon. Not then. Right then he wanted to be the poor kid Sick Boy was pounding into the mattress, the feel of Simon behind him, touching him, fucking him... and that left Mark with an image that had him fleeing the room, wanting a hit but he'd been sober for nearly three months and did he really want to fuck that up over this?

No, Mark decided to skip the skag in exchange for an empty room where he could jerk off because fuck if he wasn't hard enough it hurt. And finally when Mark fumbled his pants off and his hand closed around himself, he prayed that when he came it wasn't Simon's name on his lips even though he already knew it would be.