hackthis_archive | Ah, people. Failing since evolution began.

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Ah, people. Failing since evolution began.

1. The word of the day is clusterfuckiest. Trufax.

2. I'm a big fan of the part where a summer camp that rented a pool in north PhillY for $1900 were told they weren't welcome, because they changed the complextion of the pool. Keep it classy, racist assholes!

3. If I think too hard about the confirmation hearings, I might stroke out, so...

4. YAY, Leverage premieres tonight!

5. And Matt Damon is going to be on Entourage! So, that means that Matt and Ari are going to be hanging out. And I didn't even have to write it! Yeah, I know, who's the man? All they need now is RDJ... you know since I write it and it happens. Excuse me, I have to go write myself winning ten million dollars. BRB.

6. Ryan Gosling is releasing his album in October. I WANT IT NOW.

6a. Anybody got the new Regina Spektor album (Far) that they wanna share with the class.

7. An Offer: Anybody who wants to come over here and give me a photo prompt that maybe might result in some drabble porn to make the masses happy is more than welcome.

If you just want to picspam the pretty to you know, help the general mood, that's awesome too. In fact, feel free to come and post photos and write your own porn too! But it's gotta be a photo. And SFW. It can be a party!

Mostly I'm just trying to make

romanticalgirl smile, so help a sister do a good deed.

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Inorite!

I LIKE CLOSURE! And I was being nice and wasn't even gonna call L on this. (But since you did, all bets are off, mwahaha!) Imo, it needs to be written both ways to make me see it. ::big eyes::

Okay, let's see if I can come up with a list of things I like.

* Pining
* Leaning
* Up against the wall
* Wanking and watching

Does that help?

I am writing you stubbly!John right now based on THAT photo. I actually have the wanking and watching waiting impatiently right after that ;-)

The other three. Well, Ben and John'll take care of those. Just wait.

I know exactly what you mean.

stealing from each other and playing up to our friends' kinks and desires to secure their love

What, that's not a legitimate form of bribery? Shit, man...

Hey, think of all the famous people who fed off of each other's ideas - The Algonquin Round Table. Shelley/Byron/Mary Shelley/Polidori. The PORN SWAT is just the latest in high-minded literature circles.

Okay, I'm cracking myself up here.

::sniffs:: See what you did there? You went and took me to the sad place of Brad pining and being both bitter and in denial and just - ::flails::

Calm yourself. I am writing Southland filth at the moment, but I have some resolution to this little scene that's impatiently banging on the door where Ben and John are fucking and telling them to hurry up.

The PORN SWAT is just the latest in high-minded literature circles.

That should be on a mug. A mug full of tequila perhaps.

I find it to be perfectly legitimate. Is someone saying it isn't? Maybe they just want some porn.

They're really insanely cute.

I can't choose a favorite, because Toppy!Nate and Toppy!Brad and Bottomy!Nate and Bottomy!Brad and Tops-from-the-bottom!Nate and...well, you get where this is going, right? I'm pretty easy is what I think I'm trying to say. Heee.

Me too. *nods a lot*

First of all - Pfffft. Like you said to me the other day, we all have our things. One of my fortes is that I can angst shit up like nobody's business. I take that side of things (which isn't to say you don't because there's some majorly painful and poignant things in "Get Some" that you brought on your own damn self) and bring it to the fore, and that's all.

Also, did I mention I have a thing about the pining?

Oh, guh. I have that photo open in another tab and I keep looking at it because it is the HOTT. I'm contemplating the gun!porn you mentioned earlier for John and Ben. Of course, this is hampered by knowing almost nothing about guns.

Ok, that is the sexiest not-deliberately-porn thing I have ever read. I'm throwing you on the ground... Yes, please! How much do I love this fandom, where the character analysis can get as hot as the fiction? Lots and lots and lots and....

"We're porning as fast as we can, boys!"

YOU STARTED IT!

Here, let me quote: Mmmmmmm. Yes to this. Because, see, Get Some? All from Nate's POV. And poor Brad is pining and jerking off to his bff for YEARS.

Well, actually, no. That's way too angsty. But it's pretty in bits and pieces.

I rest my case.

You know that's *exactly* what it's like, Ben, however, is like shut up rookies, I'm showing you how it's done.

I approve of Ben.

Ben's been gone for five days.

Olivia wanted to go to Hawaii; the asshole that fertilized Ben's mom wouldn't let her go without a chaperone.

So, of course, Ben rode to the rescue.

John doesn't begrudge Olivia this. She's a great kid, smart, funny. She clearly has Sherman's number.

The fact that she called John from Maui just to assure him that she was taking awesome care of 'his man' and 'totally kicked that ass of that skeezy chick who tried to buy Ben a drink' just made him like her even more than he already does.

John was touched. And amused. He's got his own spy now.

In fact, when Ben called later to recount the story, John didn't even need the details.

The fact that Ben really called because he apparently kind of missed John and wanted a bedtime story about all the ways John was going to fuck Ben open with his fingers, and suck his cock until Ben's eyes crossed and then snowball his ass until Ben was a sobbing mess made up for any sort of murderous thoughts that had initially crossed John's mind.

But Ben's home now. John had thought about picking he and Olivia up from LAX, but the things John's going to do to Ben in the first 90 seconds they're together just aren't meant for kids. Some things Olivia doesn't need to be exposed to until she's 65.

The point is Sherman's babysitting gig is done. Now it's playtime for the grown ups.

John speeds up Coldwater, sky blue, the hills curving and demanding, requiring him to pay attention to the road ahead of him and not the way he's going to bend Ben in half and fuck that tight, gorgeous ass until the mere thought of sitting down makes Ben wince.

That band that Ben really likes cues up on Amy's speakers and John just shakes his head. Pussy ass bitchy – oh, wait, John actually kind of likes these Wilco guys.

John pulls up to Ben's place twenty minutes later, which is just twenty minutes too long.

He parks Amy in the driveway and doesn't even bother to put up her windows. Fuck, Ben's neighborhood is so nice John bets they don't even lock their doors at night.

He tosses his sunglasses in the passenger seat and gets out of the car. Ben's garage door is up, and John's heading directly for it when he sees something moving on his right, something hidden from plain sight by a large hedge of plants.

It's Ben. Sitting on the steps leading up to his front door.

He looks like he's been waiting there.

Waiting on John.

John knows the smile on his face is ridiculous. He doesn't even care.

Ben had invited him along, but John – John's not ready for the gay uncles chaperoning thing just yet.

Ben gets to his feet. He's wearing a red Ramones shirt that looks – that's John's shirt. A frisson of something proprietary, something that says 'mine' snakes down John's spine, and he shakes his head, taking in the khaki shorts and bare feet.

Ben stops one step up from John which puts them nose to nose. "Hey," John says, his greeting a little rough. Ben's nose is sunburned, his eyes bluer than John remembers. His mouth pinker. John wants it.

Ben licks his lips, stares at John's mouth kind of obviously. "Do you object to me kissing you in public?" he asks bluntly.

John raises an eyebrow, looks around at all the palm trees and shrubbery on Ben's property that shields one house from the next. It's like a goddamn jungle around here. He can't even see his car anymore. Still. "What public?"

"Here."

John shrugs. "Your neighborhood."

Ben's laugh is throaty as he leans in, brushes his lips over John's. "Fuck them," he breathes into John's mouth. John opens up, let's Ben in, let's Ben suck on his tongue as he grabs Ben's ass, pulls his groin against John's thigh.

Ben moans, cupping John's face and kissing him as though they've never done this before at all. Hard bites at John's bottom lip and nips at the corners of his mouth. "I like the stubble," he mutters against John's jaw, wantonly grinding his cock against John's thigh.

John's been a little haphazard about the shaving thing with Ben gone. Hell, the last day or two he was off-duty and even showering took kind of a backseat.

John tightens his grip on Ben's ass, his fingers pushing into the cotton-clad crease of Ben's ass. "Just like that," he coaxes, tilting his head to the side, hinting that he wants more of those little sucking kisses on his throat that Ben's so good at.

John's shifts his weight from one foot to the other. Has to mind his back. He pushes Ben away fractionally, Ben's protesting moans going straight to his cock. "Inside. Now," he orders.

Ben's smile is lazy, pleased. Something pings hard in John's brain. "Yeah, about that," Ben says.

"What about that?"

Ben shrugs. "I missed you."

John's heart does this little stutter step in his chest and he bites his lip. Has to look past Ben's ear. "You did, huh?"

Ben shakes his head, grabs the hem of his tee shirt and pulls it over his head. John can feel his eyes widening. Ben's tan ends a few centimeters above the waistband of his shorts, and if any of the neighbors have magically developed plant X-ray vision, John's going to have them arrested.

"I don't think you're hearing me," Ben says, taking John's hand and placing it on the small of his naked back. Ben's skin is sweaty, slick. Too slick.

John stares as Ben pushes John's hand under the waistband of his khakis… where he's not wearing any underwear.

"What did you do?" John asks softly, his hand moving of its own according, fingers sliding into the crease of Ben's ass, stroking, reacquainting, homing in on that entrance where everything feels like a glove.

Ben makes a happy noise as John's fingers tease his asshole, the tip of one sliding. John's brain doesn't even know what to do. Ben's prelubed up and ready to go. "What did you do?" John asks again, voice strained. The effort of speaking that much harder with his middle finger inside Ben.

Ben's hand slides up John's bare forearm, skates over his bicep and then grips the back of John's neck as Ben drives his cock into John's hip. "Got myself ready for you," Ben whispers into John's ear. "Been thinking about it all week. And now you're going to finger my ass until I come, or I'm not letting you in the house."

John can only stare when Ben pulls away fractionally.

There's a sly smile on Ben's face that he only gets when he's very very sure about John's response. "I'd hate to disappoint you," John says, pulling his hand away and watching Ben's face slide into something like shock.

"Are you turning me do—" Ben's protest lasts as long as it takes John to get him to retreat up the steps. Ben shuts up when his back hits the front door, and then John's sliding his hand down the back of Ben's shorts again, shoving two fingers in instead of one. Ben lets out this wail and John leans in, bites him on the neck.

"God, Ben," John pants as he stretches Ben open, feels the slick that's been worked into Ben's hole. "So good."

"Oh fuck fuck fuck," Ben chants, wrapping himself around John and rising up on his toes, trying to fuck himself on John's fingers as John spreads him open. Stretches the two fingers to add a third. Fuck Ben harder than he normally would. Hard enough that John knows he's going to be sore.

Slick and sore and just right for John's tongue.

Ben's keening noises are muffled in John's neck, but he can feel the reverberations in his skin. Feel the way Ben's desperately riding his thigh. Ben kisses him again, but it's sloppy, desperate, he's really just panting into John's mouth.

John pulls away, rubs his jaw against Ben's cheek, whispers in his ear. "I know how much you love this. Love my fingers up your ass, stretching you open, getting you ready for my cock. I'm going to fuck you now, promise." Ben makes a sobbing noise, John just carries on. "In fact, I'm going to fuck you right on the floor in your front hall. Gonna leave the door wide open so all your neighbors can hear you call my name. And then, when you're all fucked out and everybody knows who you belong to, I'm going to take you to your bedroom and fuck you with that huge plastic dildo that you think I don’t know about. Might even use my fingers and and that slutty toy of yours. You'd like that wouldn't you?"

"Fuck, John, yes."

John can feel it when Ben's fingernails break the skin on the back of his neck, holds Ben tight as the shudders rack through Ben's body and into his own. God, he missed this. The way Ben wants him; the way he needs this.

It takes Ben a while to come down, even longer for John to finally pull his fingers free.

Ben's pupils have swallowed up the iris, and Ben's mouth is red and swollen. John rubs a slick thumb over Ben's bottom lip and smiles broadly. "Yeah, I missed you too."

Edited 2009-07-18 06:12 (UTC)

"sometimes you get baked..."

I'm still quite attached to the idea (and the hope of response to the porn skirmish prompt) of Brad being surprised to see and delighted by finding a quite baked Nate at a party, post Iraq. Nate is Always So Tense. And to see Nate so loose... does things.

He's also pleased to see that Nate isn't one of those people who are uber-uptight in their sober life and then fucking obnoxiously ridiculous when they're buzzed. Not that he's not used to seeing marines drink themselves into stupidity - or more stupidity. And not that he doesn't drink himself stupid sometimes too. But baked Nate...

Baked Nate luxuriating in it. Baked Nate in sneakers and cargo shorts and a t-shirt so well fitted to him that it's borderline fruity-rudy, with his button-down short sleeved shirt from earlier spread across the prickly grass. Nate on his back on the grass, head on that shirt, one knee bent, swaying back and forth to the strains of the music from the house. Staring at the lake behind ______'s house. Big fat moon is low and streaking light across it, so that must be fun to look at. Unlit, 2/3rds smoke joint resting on his belly, a black smudge on white t-shirt beneath it.

Scent still hangs around him, stinky and sweet.

Brad sitting beside him on the grass, an arms length away, nothing he needs to say. Fucking aching to touch, though, and knowing he'd be able to get away with it. Knowing Nate would probably let him right now. Knowing it wouldn't be hard to get Nate thinking it was his idea, and knowing Nate wouldn't make a problem out of it tomorrow, even if he regretted it.

And the thought of taking advantage of Nate when he's like this makes him so hard, he's got to bend his outstretched legs and lean forward, crossed arms on his knees, chin resting on his arms. He could probably just start rubbing Nate between his legs right now, no words, and Nate would probably just moan and arch up against it.

"You look like you need a hug," Nate says, a strange, slow cadence to it that could mean joke or come on or total lack of brain mouth filter. "But that's nothing new."

Brad's eyebrows go up. So the third, then. "Marines don't need hugs."

"Everybody needs hugs, Brad." Nate sounds like he's talking to a five year old.

"I don't need a hug."

"I didn't offer." Nate smiles and sighs. "I am not going to offer you a hug, Brad."

Brad shakes his head. "Did you smoke all of that?"

"I'd just take it." Nate sounds a prissy now. Like he's in an argument with himself. "If I was going to, I wouldn't ask, I'd just take it."

"You don't take a hug. You give it."

"Maybe the way you hug. But you don't hug."

"I hug." Brad glances over to find Nate staring up at him guilelessly, one hand behind his head, the other resting low on his belly, pinky and ring finger beneath his waistband, thumb under the hem of his t-shirt. He looks like porn. He looks like he's asking for it. Brad should go.

"But you don't need to. You can stop any time you want," Nate teases, smilingly broadly. Terribly proud of his joke as only children the altered can be.

"The corps might give me a hug test when I go back on active duty. I'd rather not risk it."

Nate rolls his eyes. "Good thing I'm not in the corps anymore."

"No it's not."

Nate's smile fades. "Everyone needs hugs, Brad."

"But you're not offering."

"No. And I'm not asking either."

"But you want one."

Nate shrugs, then shakes his head, then rolls it so he's giving Brad the back of his head, one Opie ear facing the moon.

Brad chuckles, despite the tension in his throat in chest. He can feel the gears stripping. "You're so high."
(cont'd)

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Page 22 of 32

Ah, people. Failing since evolution began.

Re: boys being totally innocent and hard-working and above-board

Re: I shall not be broken I tell you!

Re: I shall not be broken I tell you!

Re: I shall not be broken I tell you!

Re: I POSTED THIS IN MY JOURNAL BUT IT BARES REPEATING

no subject

no subject

Re: let us speak of Nate and his mouth. some more.

Re: let us speak of Nate and his mouth. some more.

no subject

no subject

no subject

Re: boys being totally innocent and hard-working and above-board

Re: boys being totally innocent and hard-working and above-board

Re: let us speak of Nate and his mouth. some more.

Re: I shall not be broken I tell you!

Re: boys being totally innocent and hard-working and above-board

Re: let us speak of Nate and his mouth. some more.

Re: let us speak of Nate and his mouth. some more.

Re: let us speak of Nate and his mouth. some more.

Re: let us speak of Nate and his mouth. some more.

Part I

Part II

Part III

random baked porn 1