Cathryn (formerly catslash) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
remindmeofthe) wrote2009-04-06 03:08 pm
remindmeofthe) wrote2009-04-06 03:08 pm
Entry tags:
"Just Like Everything Else," R, "The Fix"
Right, so, in a total one-eighty from my random gen crossover, have some Fix fic. (Even gen Fix fic, which this decidedly is not, would, I suspect, be a total one-eighty from your usual genfic. I'm not sure gen Fix fic is even possible.)
TITLE: "Just like Everything Else"
AUTHOR: Cathryn (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
catslash)
FANDOM: The Fix
WORD COUNT: Approximately 1600.
RATING: R
PAIRING: Reed/Grahame
SUMMARY: Reed is bored. Grahame is a convenient target. Harvard-era fic; prequel to "All Downhill From Here."
WARNING: Still not warning for incest in this fandom.
DISCLAIMER: The Fix was created by John Dempsey and Dana P Rowe. I take no credit and make no money.
NOTES: I thought for sure someone would want to know exactly how Reed managed to work his magic on Grahame so fast in ADFH. Nobody did, but I wrote this anyway. So, uh, here's the answer to the question no one asked.
Reed storms into the dormitory room, slamming the door behind him. The violence of the noise is almost as satisfying as seeing Grahame jump a mile at his desk. He looks up irritably from the all-important work he's doing, some essay or equations or something, he never does anything else and it's all so fucking boring that the flash of satisfaction fades immediately. Reed drops himself onto his bed, making the old springs creak.
"Are you quite done being dramatic?" Grahame asks sourly.
"Are you quite done being boring?" Reed snaps back. Grahame snorts and turns away, bending back over his work. Reed can practically hear him making a point of not asking what's got Reed so riled up. It's just as well, since it has to do with fucking Violet ditching him at the last minute and he's not in the right mood for coming up with a lie good enough to fool Grahame. It pisses him off even more anyway. Reed glares darkly at his brother's back, weighing the benefits of chucking Grahame's crutches out the window against the drawbacks of getting in trouble for it at home. He gets away with plenty in torturing Grahame, but that kind of thing would be too public. It'd draw unwanted attention.
Damn.
He tries to think of something else, but his heart isn't in it. He and Violet were going to park tonight, but she backed out, leaving him high and dry. Bitch. He should be in his car right now, with Violet warm and breathless against him, but instead he's stuck here in his dorm room, watching Grahame do their homework. Of course, it's almost appropriate - no one, in Reed's estimation, can understand sexual frustration like a hidden queer. Reed doesn't think Grahame has ever so much as kissed someone, at least not for real. Not that Grahame would tell him. But he'd know.
Someone should do something about that.
Reed looks at his brother a little more thoughtfully. Someone should do something about that. And maybe Reed can salvage something of his night after all. He sees the way Grahame looks at him sometimes, when he thinks no one's looking or that Reed simply won't notice. Grahame won't turn him down.
Reed gets up and goes over to the desk, behind Grahame, and runs his hand through Grahame's hair. Grahame jerks his head up.
"What are you doing?" he demands, swatting too late at Reed's hand.
"Nothing," Reed says innocently. Grahame flicks him a suspicious look.
"Then go do it somewhere else."
"I like it here," Reed says.
"Jesus Christ." Grahame turns deliberately back to his work, apparently preferring to ignore Reed rather than argue with him. Reed smirks. Grahame is so predictable.
He stands still for a moment or two, waiting for some of the tension to ease from the set of Grahame's shoulders as his attention is drawn from Reed back to the work he's doing. Then, when Reed figures that Grahame has decided he's just going to lose interest and wander off, he reaches out and skims his fingertips over the back of Grahame's neck. Grahame jumps and reaches back to jab at Reed's hand with his pencil. Reed swipes it from him easily and traces the point over his nape.
"Reed!"
"Hold still, Grahame." Reed lets the pencil drop down between Grahame's back and the chair. he slides his hand into his brother's hair, gripping firmly at the back of Grahame's head and holding him still. He leans down, brushing his lips over Grahame's ear, and whispers,
"Don't be so boring."
Grahame gasps a little, going still. Reed smiles.
"There, now you get it," he murmurs, still in Grahame's ear.
"What are you playing at?" Grahame asks, voice tight and strained.
"I'm not playing. Aren't you paying attention? I'm bored." He loosens his hold on Grahame's hair, enough to allow Grahame to pull out of his grip.
"And you think I'm going to entertain you?"
"I think you want to entertain me."
"Really." Grahame hasn't turned to look at him, keeping his gaze fixed firmly on his work. "That's egotistical even for you, Reed. You think just because I'm -" He hesitates, and Reed smirks. He knows how much Grahame hates the word.
"A queer?" he supplies helpfully.
It is, as he'd expected, the breaking point: Grahame turns, striking out and hitting Reed across the shoulder. Reed laughs and grabs his arm.
"No," he says, "I think you want to because you do want to." He kisses Grahame's wrist, pleased but not surprised to feel the pulse pounding against his lips, then lets Grahame go.
"One kiss, Grahame. Give me one chance. If you don't enjoy yourself, then I'll leave you alone to be boring all by your lonesome."
Grahame's look is mistrustful, for which Reed suppose he can't blame him. It does sound like a set-up, after all.
"You promise you'll leave me alone," he says after a moment.
"Scout's honor." Reed's smile is bright.
"All right. If it'll get you out of my hair. One kiss."
"Good." Reed grabs hold of Grahame's desk chair, pulling him back away from the desk and spinning him around. Grahame hasn't finished gasping in surprise before Reed is climbing into the chair, straddling him.
"What?" Reed asks. "Were you expecting a friendly little peck?"
The look on Grahame's face is fantastic - eyes a little wide, mouth open, color beginning to rise in his cheeks. It's so rare that Reed manages to truly shock his brother that he just has to take a moment to enjoy it. He reaches up, running a thumb lightly along Grahame's jawline. Grahame swallows, then seems to catch himself, blinking and pressing his lips together.
"Get on with it, then," he snaps. "I don't have all day."
"You," Reed tells him, "have no appreciation for the details."
"I have no appreciation for being toyed with."
Reed rolls his eyes.
"Close your eyes, Grahame, and shut up."
"Oh, is that how you sweet talk the girls?" Grahame sneers, but he does close his eyes, so Reed allows him the last word.
He touches Grahame's cheek, lowering his head to brush his lips over the corner of Grahame's mouth, his chin, just caressing and avoiding direct contact, until he feels Grahame's breath warm and damp against his skin; Grahame's mouth has fallen open again. Reed lets him hang for another few seconds, feeling tension begin to gather in Grahame, then gives in, curving his hand along the side of Grahame's neck and pressing his lips to his brother's.
A shuddering start passes through Grahame. Reed smothers a chuckle and allows a second or two to tick by before sliding his tongue into Grahame's mouth. Grahame's resistance is crumbling already, sooner than Reed expected; he feels the exact moment it breaks completely, the split second of stillness and yielding before Grahame starts kissing back. Fuck, Reed thinks, and drops the game, kissing Grahame in earnest.
He'd known it would be fun to get Grahame to crack, to corner him into admitting that he wanted whatever Reed might be inclined to offer because Christ knew he wasn't going to get it anywhere else, but hadn't expected it to be such an incredible fucking turn-on. The kiss itself isn't so much to speak of - Grahame's inexperience is obvious, and Reed has a fleeting and very pleasant thought of time in the near future well spent in taking care of that - but the feel of Grahame leaning up into him, knowing how easily he got through the defenses Grahame has set up against his own desires . . . it's not better than being with a really gorgeous girl, not by a long shot, but it sparks in a different way that makes Reed every bit as crazy, maybe crazier.
When they part, he's breathing almost as hard as Grahame is, and finds that one of his hands has wrapped itself in the folds of Grahame's shirt. Grahame is tensing up again, with caution this time, his shoulders tightening as he watches Reed warily.
"Did you get what you wanted?" His tone is even sharper than it usually is when Reed has done something to ruffle him.
"Maybe." Reed grins at him, letting go of his shirt to slide his hand down between Grahame's legs. He gives what he finds there a firm, massaging squeeze. Grahame yelps.
"Jesus, Reed!"
Reed laughs.
"Like I was going to count on you to tell the truth." He doesn't remove his hand, or stop its motion. Grahame holds himself rigid in his chair; Reed can hear in his breathing the unnatural rhythm of someone trying unsuccessfully to take even, measured breaths.
"Give it up, Grahame," he says. "I'm not playing a game. I'm not going to pull the rug out from under you once I've gotten you to admit that you like this." He brightens as a bit of wordplay occurs to him. "I don't want to fuck with you, I want to fuck you."
"Ever the wordsmith." Grahame's voice is ragged now, and he's watching Reed very, very closely.
Reed stops rubbing, stroking lightly with his fingers instead, just enough to tease. Grahame's breath hitches. Reed leans in again, almost - but not quite - touching his lips to Grahame's.
"So how's it going to be, then?" he asks softly. "Are you going to stop being boring now?"
TITLE: "Just like Everything Else"
AUTHOR: Cathryn (
catslash)FANDOM: The Fix
WORD COUNT: Approximately 1600.
RATING: R
PAIRING: Reed/Grahame
SUMMARY: Reed is bored. Grahame is a convenient target. Harvard-era fic; prequel to "All Downhill From Here."
WARNING: Still not warning for incest in this fandom.
DISCLAIMER: The Fix was created by John Dempsey and Dana P Rowe. I take no credit and make no money.
NOTES: I thought for sure someone would want to know exactly how Reed managed to work his magic on Grahame so fast in ADFH. Nobody did, but I wrote this anyway. So, uh, here's the answer to the question no one asked.
Reed storms into the dormitory room, slamming the door behind him. The violence of the noise is almost as satisfying as seeing Grahame jump a mile at his desk. He looks up irritably from the all-important work he's doing, some essay or equations or something, he never does anything else and it's all so fucking boring that the flash of satisfaction fades immediately. Reed drops himself onto his bed, making the old springs creak.
"Are you quite done being dramatic?" Grahame asks sourly.
"Are you quite done being boring?" Reed snaps back. Grahame snorts and turns away, bending back over his work. Reed can practically hear him making a point of not asking what's got Reed so riled up. It's just as well, since it has to do with fucking Violet ditching him at the last minute and he's not in the right mood for coming up with a lie good enough to fool Grahame. It pisses him off even more anyway. Reed glares darkly at his brother's back, weighing the benefits of chucking Grahame's crutches out the window against the drawbacks of getting in trouble for it at home. He gets away with plenty in torturing Grahame, but that kind of thing would be too public. It'd draw unwanted attention.
Damn.
He tries to think of something else, but his heart isn't in it. He and Violet were going to park tonight, but she backed out, leaving him high and dry. Bitch. He should be in his car right now, with Violet warm and breathless against him, but instead he's stuck here in his dorm room, watching Grahame do their homework. Of course, it's almost appropriate - no one, in Reed's estimation, can understand sexual frustration like a hidden queer. Reed doesn't think Grahame has ever so much as kissed someone, at least not for real. Not that Grahame would tell him. But he'd know.
Someone should do something about that.
Reed looks at his brother a little more thoughtfully. Someone should do something about that. And maybe Reed can salvage something of his night after all. He sees the way Grahame looks at him sometimes, when he thinks no one's looking or that Reed simply won't notice. Grahame won't turn him down.
Reed gets up and goes over to the desk, behind Grahame, and runs his hand through Grahame's hair. Grahame jerks his head up.
"What are you doing?" he demands, swatting too late at Reed's hand.
"Nothing," Reed says innocently. Grahame flicks him a suspicious look.
"Then go do it somewhere else."
"I like it here," Reed says.
"Jesus Christ." Grahame turns deliberately back to his work, apparently preferring to ignore Reed rather than argue with him. Reed smirks. Grahame is so predictable.
He stands still for a moment or two, waiting for some of the tension to ease from the set of Grahame's shoulders as his attention is drawn from Reed back to the work he's doing. Then, when Reed figures that Grahame has decided he's just going to lose interest and wander off, he reaches out and skims his fingertips over the back of Grahame's neck. Grahame jumps and reaches back to jab at Reed's hand with his pencil. Reed swipes it from him easily and traces the point over his nape.
"Reed!"
"Hold still, Grahame." Reed lets the pencil drop down between Grahame's back and the chair. he slides his hand into his brother's hair, gripping firmly at the back of Grahame's head and holding him still. He leans down, brushing his lips over Grahame's ear, and whispers,
"Don't be so boring."
Grahame gasps a little, going still. Reed smiles.
"There, now you get it," he murmurs, still in Grahame's ear.
"What are you playing at?" Grahame asks, voice tight and strained.
"I'm not playing. Aren't you paying attention? I'm bored." He loosens his hold on Grahame's hair, enough to allow Grahame to pull out of his grip.
"And you think I'm going to entertain you?"
"I think you want to entertain me."
"Really." Grahame hasn't turned to look at him, keeping his gaze fixed firmly on his work. "That's egotistical even for you, Reed. You think just because I'm -" He hesitates, and Reed smirks. He knows how much Grahame hates the word.
"A queer?" he supplies helpfully.
It is, as he'd expected, the breaking point: Grahame turns, striking out and hitting Reed across the shoulder. Reed laughs and grabs his arm.
"No," he says, "I think you want to because you do want to." He kisses Grahame's wrist, pleased but not surprised to feel the pulse pounding against his lips, then lets Grahame go.
"One kiss, Grahame. Give me one chance. If you don't enjoy yourself, then I'll leave you alone to be boring all by your lonesome."
Grahame's look is mistrustful, for which Reed suppose he can't blame him. It does sound like a set-up, after all.
"You promise you'll leave me alone," he says after a moment.
"Scout's honor." Reed's smile is bright.
"All right. If it'll get you out of my hair. One kiss."
"Good." Reed grabs hold of Grahame's desk chair, pulling him back away from the desk and spinning him around. Grahame hasn't finished gasping in surprise before Reed is climbing into the chair, straddling him.
"What?" Reed asks. "Were you expecting a friendly little peck?"
The look on Grahame's face is fantastic - eyes a little wide, mouth open, color beginning to rise in his cheeks. It's so rare that Reed manages to truly shock his brother that he just has to take a moment to enjoy it. He reaches up, running a thumb lightly along Grahame's jawline. Grahame swallows, then seems to catch himself, blinking and pressing his lips together.
"Get on with it, then," he snaps. "I don't have all day."
"You," Reed tells him, "have no appreciation for the details."
"I have no appreciation for being toyed with."
Reed rolls his eyes.
"Close your eyes, Grahame, and shut up."
"Oh, is that how you sweet talk the girls?" Grahame sneers, but he does close his eyes, so Reed allows him the last word.
He touches Grahame's cheek, lowering his head to brush his lips over the corner of Grahame's mouth, his chin, just caressing and avoiding direct contact, until he feels Grahame's breath warm and damp against his skin; Grahame's mouth has fallen open again. Reed lets him hang for another few seconds, feeling tension begin to gather in Grahame, then gives in, curving his hand along the side of Grahame's neck and pressing his lips to his brother's.
A shuddering start passes through Grahame. Reed smothers a chuckle and allows a second or two to tick by before sliding his tongue into Grahame's mouth. Grahame's resistance is crumbling already, sooner than Reed expected; he feels the exact moment it breaks completely, the split second of stillness and yielding before Grahame starts kissing back. Fuck, Reed thinks, and drops the game, kissing Grahame in earnest.
He'd known it would be fun to get Grahame to crack, to corner him into admitting that he wanted whatever Reed might be inclined to offer because Christ knew he wasn't going to get it anywhere else, but hadn't expected it to be such an incredible fucking turn-on. The kiss itself isn't so much to speak of - Grahame's inexperience is obvious, and Reed has a fleeting and very pleasant thought of time in the near future well spent in taking care of that - but the feel of Grahame leaning up into him, knowing how easily he got through the defenses Grahame has set up against his own desires . . . it's not better than being with a really gorgeous girl, not by a long shot, but it sparks in a different way that makes Reed every bit as crazy, maybe crazier.
When they part, he's breathing almost as hard as Grahame is, and finds that one of his hands has wrapped itself in the folds of Grahame's shirt. Grahame is tensing up again, with caution this time, his shoulders tightening as he watches Reed warily.
"Did you get what you wanted?" His tone is even sharper than it usually is when Reed has done something to ruffle him.
"Maybe." Reed grins at him, letting go of his shirt to slide his hand down between Grahame's legs. He gives what he finds there a firm, massaging squeeze. Grahame yelps.
"Jesus, Reed!"
Reed laughs.
"Like I was going to count on you to tell the truth." He doesn't remove his hand, or stop its motion. Grahame holds himself rigid in his chair; Reed can hear in his breathing the unnatural rhythm of someone trying unsuccessfully to take even, measured breaths.
"Give it up, Grahame," he says. "I'm not playing a game. I'm not going to pull the rug out from under you once I've gotten you to admit that you like this." He brightens as a bit of wordplay occurs to him. "I don't want to fuck with you, I want to fuck you."
"Ever the wordsmith." Grahame's voice is ragged now, and he's watching Reed very, very closely.
Reed stops rubbing, stroking lightly with his fingers instead, just enough to tease. Grahame's breath hitches. Reed leans in again, almost - but not quite - touching his lips to Grahame's.
"So how's it going to be, then?" he asks softly. "Are you going to stop being boring now?"
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The power dynamic and being on the wrong end of it is the story of Grahame's entire life, the poor bastard. For all his exhortations in re: the upper hand, he never ever has it, even when it looks like he does.
And I love writing Reed. Have I mentioned that? Love. He is hilarious to write. I had so, so much fun with the stupid sibling arguing here. I think it was more fun for me than the kissing. I kept giggling.
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For all his exhortations in re: the upper hand, he never ever has it, even when it looks like he does.
Your character insights make me ashamed to call myself a fan, seriously. :D
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I am the dork who wrote a paper! I spent like a paragraph on Grahame's powerlessness and how it makes him an inversion of Claudius and blah blah. If I can put that to use in fandom talk, so much the better.
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I love writing these characters. Reed comes to me so easily it's disturbing, and I'm a lot more comfortable with Grahame than I was before. He's my absolute favorite and I'd hate to screw him up.
And, yeah. I very rarely write incest, but - what the hell else am I going to write for pairing fic in this fandom? XD