Nightshift 39: M91-M100 Hallway

[whiny-egomaniac.livejournal.com]

"Of all the accursed...why did they have to place his quarters at such a distance from mine!"

Starscream continued to look over his map angrily; shining his artificial light upon the paper clipped into the cover of his notebook, he once again traced the two possible routes needed to get to Lockdown's room. "One is far longer...but potentially safer," he groaned, sliding his finger down the halls, across the large entry way, and back up to his destination. "The other...it takes me to the "soccer/recreational field". That's where that 'meta-bitch' 'Richard' mentioned was, the one who could made extreme cold. On the other hand, it IS shorter..." Closing the book with a sigh, he weighed his options carefully.

Laziness won out.

"As long as I am careful...I might avoid confrontation tonight," he reasoned. Clutching his book, a few pens, and the flashlight tightly, he made his way down to the M-C Block hallway.

[To ]here]

Comments

Re: Inside M92

[pleading-ngri.livejournal.com]

Phoenix turned his head in open invitation, impulsively kissing the hard-tendoned pillar of the forearm braced beside his head, tongue laving the subtle warmth of his wrist. There was sweat on his skin - it suited the words in his ear too well, twisted the desire into something stranger and deeper.

"You've got me." There were too many meanings the panted, barely-audible phrase could have held: reassurance, desire, appreciation, surrender. It blurred somewhere in the middle of all of them, and only grew clearer on the second try. "You've got me," he murmured, and whatever that tone was, it clenched in his throat almost before he could finish.

Re: Inside M92

[high-prosecutor.livejournal.com]

There wasn't an immediate answer, other than trying not to let the emotion of the moment catch him too much. This wasn't the time to break down - even if there had been so much tension that night that it was hard not to after that. I guess this is why we end up like this so often when something bad happens. It's either that or break down completely. And I think we'd both rather wind up in bed than wind up crying somewhere.

Miles inhaled and exhaled slowly, kissing at the spot just under Phoenix's ear. He didn't - couldn't - say anything before turning his head up and bringing the hand that was on his shoulder up to his cheek. In the end, the answer was a single word that tried to convey a dozen mixed-up emotions: "Good."

Re: Inside M92

[pleading-ngri.livejournal.com]

All of the impulses that should have been at odds just weren't, and it was all too easy to move under Miles again so soon after that reply. Phoenix didn't answer - he wasn't sure he could, not like he'd want to - but he didn't need to speak to sense the brief slowing, the pause that could be coaxed into reaction. He sank into the reassurance of that word and let his hands press on their own, let his spine bow and bend on instinct, and turned his head to catch Miles' mouth again.

For a moment, in the stillness, it had been too easy for Phoenix to imagine a lapse back into what they'd just left - the uneasy, concerned quiet, the strange space between them that touching still didn't banish. There was a comfort in the certainty that remained, sunk right into his bones, and his fingers hooked against the ridged hardness of Miles' spine, as if to unearth the matching sureness he knew was there.

Re: Inside M92

[high-prosecutor.livejournal.com]

[moving to new entry in damned_bedrooms]