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Sunday Six Sentences
Jun. 30th, 2013 08:55 amEach Sunday, post six sentences from a writing project -- published, submitted, in progress, for your cat -- whatever.
Original:
"I seriously have to tell you to stop thinking too much?" Jacan says in his ears, pretending to sound scandalised, but the joking tone is betrayed by the soothing hand that smooths across Carey's back for a moment, the same gesture they used growing up to calm each other down.
"Uh, not that I want to interrupt brotherly bonding," Victor says, "or that I'm eyeballing this hug in rampant jealousy because I want brotherly cuddles—"
"We'll get you later, dorkface," Jacan says.
Victor flips him the bird. "But we need to make a plan. Do we really want to let Monsters dictate our next move?"
Fanfic:
Stiles kissed him, kissed him like they were both drowning and Derek was air, kissed him like it was a claim. And Derek had wanted him to. Had tugged him in closer. Had covered Stiles' mouth with his own and tasted him eagerly, his wide hands spanning Stiles' waist in two spread-wide stars, Stiles' long fingers indenting the back of Derek's neck, like he had to cling on to stay upright.
They kissed until Stiles remembered they were both still covered in Alpha pack blood, and that it was maybe ten degrees outside if you rounded up, and Stiles was trembling too much to keep going. And even then, Stiles kissed him a little longer, quietly desperate, eyes shining at Derek in the murky twilight.
Original:
"I seriously have to tell you to stop thinking too much?" Jacan says in his ears, pretending to sound scandalised, but the joking tone is betrayed by the soothing hand that smooths across Carey's back for a moment, the same gesture they used growing up to calm each other down.
"Uh, not that I want to interrupt brotherly bonding," Victor says, "or that I'm eyeballing this hug in rampant jealousy because I want brotherly cuddles—"
"We'll get you later, dorkface," Jacan says.
Victor flips him the bird. "But we need to make a plan. Do we really want to let Monsters dictate our next move?"
Fanfic:
Stiles kissed him, kissed him like they were both drowning and Derek was air, kissed him like it was a claim. And Derek had wanted him to. Had tugged him in closer. Had covered Stiles' mouth with his own and tasted him eagerly, his wide hands spanning Stiles' waist in two spread-wide stars, Stiles' long fingers indenting the back of Derek's neck, like he had to cling on to stay upright.
They kissed until Stiles remembered they were both still covered in Alpha pack blood, and that it was maybe ten degrees outside if you rounded up, and Stiles was trembling too much to keep going. And even then, Stiles kissed him a little longer, quietly desperate, eyes shining at Derek in the murky twilight.
