Death at a Funeral: "Senseless"
Apr. 28th, 2008 08:54 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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rareslashTitle: Senseless
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
starhespera
Fandom: Death at a Funeral
Pairing: Troy/Simon
Rating: R
Warnings: Drug Use. Infidelity. Short-fic.
Spoilers: Two or three.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, based around the events of the movie Death at a Funeral. Despite the use and mention of a few of the characters, this is no way affiliated with the film. This didn’t happen in the movie. Nothing was gained or profited from this little dabble.
If he had any ounce of sense he wouldn’t have left his drugs out in the open. Had his brain been working he would’ve ignored the late-night crash, seeing as Simon was still out of his head. The fact that he was responsible for the state of his sister’s fiancé told him he should make sure he was alright.
A laugh bubbled free of his chest, sounding more like a moan once it arrived at his lips, fingers digging and twisting at his flesh.
He dragged Simon to his feet, the counter helping to hold him up. A clunk sounded as his head struck the cupboard, answered by a lopsided grin. “Heeey, that tickles.” Stepping forward, Simon rubbed the back of his head, stumbling forward now that he wasn’t supported from both sides.
Teeth nibbled at his jaw as he angled the hips beneath his up.
Simon’s face nuzzling into his shoulder, his weight warm and flush against his front, he struggled to stay on his feet. “Martha’s going to kill me if you hurt yourself.” Dragging him out of the kitchen, he backed into the living room. “So you’re-” He huffed against the blond hairs tickling his chin. “Lying down.”
The next giggle and moan wasn’t his own.
By the time they made it to the couch he was pinned to the cushions. It didn’t last long, Simon curling around until he was lying on his back. Simon wasn’t in his right mind, he should have left him to sleep, but the flushed face and parted-lips not even an arm’s length away was too tempting, too tempting since Martha introduced them. A smart man would have left the couple alone, let them raise their family, but a little touch under the influence of hallucinogens seemed innocent enough.
Their mouths mashed together as he thrust deeper, the kiss nowhere as tender as the first. Simon’s fingers dug into his neck, heel jabbing insistently into his thigh; he tried his best to not leave any marks in return, but was certain bruises would appear on Simon’s hips in a couple of days.
Simon was already drifting into sleep by the time he had redressed him in his pants. He brushed sweat-curled locks off his brow before kissing the warm skin. Dressed in his own shorts he searched for a blanket to tuck him in with.
Troy didn’t remember many things, but he could be thoughtful, and he wasn’t going to forget this.
Author:
starhesperaFandom: Death at a Funeral
Pairing: Troy/Simon
Rating: R
Warnings: Drug Use. Infidelity. Short-fic.
Spoilers: Two or three.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, based around the events of the movie Death at a Funeral. Despite the use and mention of a few of the characters, this is no way affiliated with the film. This didn’t happen in the movie. Nothing was gained or profited from this little dabble.
If he had any ounce of sense he wouldn’t have left his drugs out in the open. Had his brain been working he would’ve ignored the late-night crash, seeing as Simon was still out of his head. The fact that he was responsible for the state of his sister’s fiancé told him he should make sure he was alright.
A laugh bubbled free of his chest, sounding more like a moan once it arrived at his lips, fingers digging and twisting at his flesh.
He dragged Simon to his feet, the counter helping to hold him up. A clunk sounded as his head struck the cupboard, answered by a lopsided grin. “Heeey, that tickles.” Stepping forward, Simon rubbed the back of his head, stumbling forward now that he wasn’t supported from both sides.
Teeth nibbled at his jaw as he angled the hips beneath his up.
Simon’s face nuzzling into his shoulder, his weight warm and flush against his front, he struggled to stay on his feet. “Martha’s going to kill me if you hurt yourself.” Dragging him out of the kitchen, he backed into the living room. “So you’re-” He huffed against the blond hairs tickling his chin. “Lying down.”
The next giggle and moan wasn’t his own.
By the time they made it to the couch he was pinned to the cushions. It didn’t last long, Simon curling around until he was lying on his back. Simon wasn’t in his right mind, he should have left him to sleep, but the flushed face and parted-lips not even an arm’s length away was too tempting, too tempting since Martha introduced them. A smart man would have left the couple alone, let them raise their family, but a little touch under the influence of hallucinogens seemed innocent enough.
Their mouths mashed together as he thrust deeper, the kiss nowhere as tender as the first. Simon’s fingers dug into his neck, heel jabbing insistently into his thigh; he tried his best to not leave any marks in return, but was certain bruises would appear on Simon’s hips in a couple of days.
Simon was already drifting into sleep by the time he had redressed him in his pants. He brushed sweat-curled locks off his brow before kissing the warm skin. Dressed in his own shorts he searched for a blanket to tuck him in with.
Troy didn’t remember many things, but he could be thoughtful, and he wasn’t going to forget this.
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