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Jan. 10th, 2003 08:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
moonlettuceSo, I'd resisted and resisted, and last night finally I caved. *sigh* I am now a member of the ForEngland mailing list, which is the James Bond slash list, geared towards any pairing, but specifically for James Bond/Alec Trevelyan. But I'm forgiving myself because, guys, *Sean Bean*.
But, I find myself not only joining the list, but writing a snippet to go with it. So, I present to you, my very first 006/007 piece. Be gentle ;)
He's wondering why he's here, even if he already knows the answer. It's because James could never say no to this man, could never deny him anything. Because James knows that their lifestyle means holding back isn't an option. So when Alec's lips touch his there's no hesitation. And when their clothes hit the floor James doesn't bother keeping his hands back. He reaches out, touching, skimming flesh, tracing every scar and mark. The stiletto wound from Kiev, the bullet wound from Berlin, the scar from that time in Azerbaijan. The time where the knife had got just too close, nicking the artery in Alec's thigh. And James had had to watch as the red liquid seeped out, not knowing if they'd get out in time. Dirty rag the only thing he could find to staunch the flow and hoping, praying, that if Alec survived he wouldn't end up infected with anything from the filthy piece of material. He still remembers his relief at the seeing the lights from the US Embassy. And James had never been so happy to see an American in all his life. But thoughts of near-death experiences have no place here as fingers dance over each mar of Alec's skin, knowing Alec's fingers are finding their twins on James's own body. Each mark telling the story of their life, of their survival.
"James."
And the voice is low, husky,. Gravel smooth base that only serves to make him harder than he already is. Cock pressing into Alec's hip as lips descend onto his, demanding entry. Kisses, hard, bruising, along his jaw. Stubble from Alec's cheek rubbing against his face.
"For England, James."
Words spoken with a smirk, mocking every other time that sentence has been uttered. And James returns the smirk even as his head shakes.
"No, Alec, not for England, not this time."
"No? Then why?" Curious eyes watching him, waiting for an answer.
And the words escape from James's tongue with ease, flowing into the charged air and wrapping themselves around entwined bodies. "For love, Alec. This time, it's for love."
But, I find myself not only joining the list, but writing a snippet to go with it. So, I present to you, my very first 006/007 piece. Be gentle ;)
He's wondering why he's here, even if he already knows the answer. It's because James could never say no to this man, could never deny him anything. Because James knows that their lifestyle means holding back isn't an option. So when Alec's lips touch his there's no hesitation. And when their clothes hit the floor James doesn't bother keeping his hands back. He reaches out, touching, skimming flesh, tracing every scar and mark. The stiletto wound from Kiev, the bullet wound from Berlin, the scar from that time in Azerbaijan. The time where the knife had got just too close, nicking the artery in Alec's thigh. And James had had to watch as the red liquid seeped out, not knowing if they'd get out in time. Dirty rag the only thing he could find to staunch the flow and hoping, praying, that if Alec survived he wouldn't end up infected with anything from the filthy piece of material. He still remembers his relief at the seeing the lights from the US Embassy. And James had never been so happy to see an American in all his life. But thoughts of near-death experiences have no place here as fingers dance over each mar of Alec's skin, knowing Alec's fingers are finding their twins on James's own body. Each mark telling the story of their life, of their survival.
"James."
And the voice is low, husky,. Gravel smooth base that only serves to make him harder than he already is. Cock pressing into Alec's hip as lips descend onto his, demanding entry. Kisses, hard, bruising, along his jaw. Stubble from Alec's cheek rubbing against his face.
"For England, James."
Words spoken with a smirk, mocking every other time that sentence has been uttered. And James returns the smirk even as his head shakes.
"No, Alec, not for England, not this time."
"No? Then why?" Curious eyes watching him, waiting for an answer.
And the words escape from James's tongue with ease, flowing into the charged air and wrapping themselves around entwined bodies. "For love, Alec. This time, it's for love."
