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21 November 2009 @ 04:53 am
(fic) exhaust  
exhaust | [info]radishface
Watchmen → Dan/Rorschach
Rorschach is right, unsurprisingly. un_love_you, you were right about me. Full un-love you index here.    

The first time you almost get to say it, your voice is shaking with fear and tenderness.

"There's something I have to tell you, buddy."

But he's not having any of it. A quick turn of his head and the swirling ink is gone, he's gone, and you're left to look at the back of him, hands shoved tight in his coat pockets as he walks away.

Alone with dumpster stink and the pained moaning of the Knots you two just took out, you kick at the wall. Little shambles of brick shake loose with your boot, and a litany of creative curses chorus in your brain all the way home. You admit, it was probably a bad time to spring it on him (though you'll always credit yourself for trying to use the element of surprise to trap him into hearing you out).

The next time, you think (hope) the timing is more appropriate.

You're soaring above the city, sun peeking out pink and gold over the horizon. It's gratuitous: there's no need to be at this altitude. (But you know that in his weaker moments, in both your weaker moments, when you're tired and worn from all that's happened at night, this is one indulgence you can feed him that he won't escape.)

He's standing over by the window, entranced by the look of it all spread at his feet. The ink moves in broad swathes over his face, warmed by the light, and maybe this is as good a time as ever--

"Look," you pull off your cowl, letting your face speak for itself. "There's something you have to know."

Silence beats thick and there's only the hum of the engines. The sun takes forever to crawl over the edge of the last cloud. His gloved hands are clenched tight at his side and he refuses to look at you. Condemns you instead. "Sick, Daniel."

"No, it's not," you protest, indignation (shame) registers as a thick red blossoming on your face. You stand up, even though your feet have no plan. They pace you aimlessly. "I can't help it," your voice is hurried, "you can't help these things."

You run a hand through your hair, stringy with dried sweat underneath your gauntleted hands. In a burst of frustration you tear the gloves off, throw them on the console. Now there are four hands in front of you, one pair raw and one pair ineffectual. "Look, I just gotta know if--"

You don't finish. He's on you in a second, leather-clad grip closing in on your jaw, almost painful as he brings you down to him, mouth crashing against yours. Your breath shudders inside you and you grip him back, thrusting your tongue against the rubber-cloth rasp of latex.

Later in your basement, your bare hands grasp at the railing, your knees digging into sawdust and soot and scraping against the cement. The spandex of your costume sags in a cooling puddle around your feet as Rorschach spreads your ass and takes you with nothing more than a slick of engine oil.

The smell of exhaust and gasoline surrounds you both, pungent and industrial and sweet and it sends a jolt down your spine when you inhale. With every thrust of his cock you can't help but arch back, mouth wet and slack-jawed as you pant muffled and lewd sounds into your knuckles. His breath comes hot and sweltering against the back of your neck. Every hiss and choke sounds like sick, sick, sick, and he makes you know it.

unimagineunimagine on November 21st, 2009 11:56 pm (UTC)
D: Just admit your ~*LOVE*~ already, Ror.

Ok, but seriously. Conflict. Is awesome. <3 And I am in love with your words, as ever.

I are teh typo police:
to trap [him?] into hearing you out
even though you feet have no plan [darn you feet! why do you fail me!]
radishfaceradishface on November 22nd, 2009 08:14 am (UTC)

Glad you like dem words, this one was actually kind of a strugglebus for me. D: Yeah, this is basically me easing myself into the (treacherously mountainous, with OOC sludging in every abyss) land of Dan/Ror. I didn't realize before this but it seems that whenever I write something porny I automatically gear into second person POV. 8\ Wonder what that means?

Anyhoo, glad you liked <3 <3
Thyme: NO/R: ♥steals_thyme on November 22nd, 2009 02:36 pm (UTC)
Oh man, as much as I love fic where they just skirt around each other awkwardly and make half-hearted advances and fumble a bit - sometimes my id just wants to read about Ror punishing the hell out of Dan. I know I'm horrible

That said, what I love most about this is Dan's earnest approach, like he really believes that the pair of them are gonna sit down and talk about this thing, and it's not going to turn into something dangerous and violent. He's so deliberately optimistic sometimes :D

Also, second person! <3 <3

radishfaceradishface on November 23rd, 2009 07:33 pm (UTC)
skirt around each other awkwardly and make half-hearted advances and fumble a bit
I SAW WHAT YOU DID THERE MISSY. also will review in proper location but let me just say that the latest bit was UNF.

Dan is just a well-meaning, cow-eyed sweetie sometimes. I don't think he thought this one through carefully enough. It probably took him all his brainpower just to bring up the subject, much less assess the appropriate time, location, mood, etc.

But yeah, like I told unimagine above, I always tend towards second person when writing something pr0ny. Comfort zone thing, I think... I'm working my way out of it :D

Thanks <3
Thymesteals_thyme on November 23rd, 2009 10:43 pm (UTC)
Haaa, I didn't actually mean my own fic, omg :B Don't feel obliged ♥

I'll radiate love like Three Mile Islandlady_wormtongue on November 24th, 2009 06:12 am (UTC)
Well done, I love the sparseness here. No words wasted. And also, toppy!schach ftw. Not enough of that, ever. ;)
radishface: sally jupiter ☞ glee!radishface on November 24th, 2009 06:42 am (UTC)
Thank you! I'm trying to tone down the wordiness in my writing so your comment means a lot to me. :3

And yes I agree, topschach is WIN.
Ronch Ronch Ronch: Watchmen: Kitchen!sandoz_iscariot on November 26th, 2009 03:48 am (UTC)
The spandex of your costume sags in a cooling puddle around your feet as Rorschach spreads your ass and takes you with nothing more than a slick of engine oil.

Oh my yes. <3
radishface: Nite Owl ☞ grinzradishface on November 30th, 2009 06:43 pm (UTC)
8D Daniel agrees.
i_am_your_spyi_am_your_spy on November 27th, 2009 10:05 pm (UTC)
Oh HOTT. I like these guys best when they're being really fucked up.
radishface: danror ☞ burebureradishface on November 30th, 2009 06:44 pm (UTC)
So many issues between these two to explore, which to write about first? ;) Thanks <3
daylilymoondaylilymoon on November 29th, 2009 01:11 am (UTC)
I am always happy to see second person done so well :D I know you said above you were struggling and watching out for OOC and I gotta tell you there is none at all in here. Poor Dan! I love the fourth-to-last paragraph for getting across his nervousness and pure Dan-brand despair. And Rorschach's fucked-up way of responding, which is totally Rorschach.

this is one indulgence you can feed him that he won't escape
aw ;_;
radishface: danror  ☞ you quitradishface on November 30th, 2009 06:58 pm (UTC)
Yay and thank you! I'm glad second person worked out in this case. It lends such a nice, detached tone that I'm rather partial towards.

Rorschach's fucked-up way of responding,
Yeah, except he doesn't know that however much he might think he's dishing out the "punishment," it's only positive reinforcement for Dan. >D
Patent Counsel for Adrian Veidt and Tony Stark: Watchmen Rorschach in Spotlightakemi42 on December 22nd, 2009 06:37 am (UTC)
Gorgeous use of second person. I loved it!