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fan_flashworks2019-01-30 11:09 pm
elen_nare) wrote in fan_flashworks2019-01-30 11:09 pm
Entry tags:
Swallows and Amazons - fanfiction - Sensual
Title: Sensual
Fandom: Swallows and Amazons series
Rating: T
Length: 500 words
Content notes: Set just before Pigeon Post. Timothy Stedding / Jim Turner.
Author notes: For the "key" prompt atfan_flashworks . Also fits the "exploration" challenge (bingo card square). 12th in my personal 50x500 Swallows and Amazons fic challenge (prompt: sensual).
Summary: "It’s torture, to be so near Jim and yet so far; to want so badly to reach out and touch him, to be certain he’ll never dare."
Timothy stands, stretching his aching back. He and Jim are exploring an abandoned tunnel, hoping to find something the Brazilian miners missed. It’s small and cramped, and oh, it’s torture, to be so near Jim and yet so far; to want so badly to reach out and touch him, to be certain he’ll never dare. And yet… Sometimes he has wondered, when Jim holds his gaze a little too long, seeks his company a little too often… when it feels like they’re both trying to communicate in code but neither has the right key. Other times he’s sure he’s imagining everything.
Perhaps - no, certainly - he’s distracted, by sweat glistening in lamplight, by trying not to imagine the feel of those calloused fingers against his skin; not paying enough attention to the warning sounds of the earth. If there was any warning, before the sudden ear-splitting crash, the flying chips of rock, the chilling realisation they’re trapped.
They try to dig their way out, but they’d come in with few tools, intending merely to see where this tunnel led. A further shower of rock warns them away, and they retreat to the dubious safety of the furthest end, to the hope their campmates will be able to dig through.
“No need to worry,” Jim says, with such forced cheerfulness it makes Timothy snort with laughter - choked off abruptly as he sees the trickle of blood running from Jim’s forehead.
“You’re bleeding, old chap. Hold on.”
He pulls out a fairly clean handkerchief, and carefully dabs at the cut.
“Nothing serious I think, but it’s bleeding a fair bit,” he says, wishing Jim weren’t looking at him with that fierce intensity.
And yet - damn it - there’s a fair chance they’re going to die here; if this isn’t a time to take risks, when is? Hardly daring to breathe, he shifts his hand - still holding the handkerchief in place - to caress Jim’s face with his fingertips. For an instant, Jim freezes, and Timothy nearly yanks back. Then he smiles, bringing up his own hand to hold Timothy’s in place, and Timothy almost stops breathing again at the touch. Jim’s tongue darts out, wetting his lips, drawing Timothy’s attention like a magnet; before he can give himself time to second-guess, he leans forwards and kisses Jim, who wraps strong arms around him.
“Why didn’t we do this sooner?” Jim asks, breaking the kiss at last, but still holding him close. “If I’d known imminent death was the key to bringing you out of your shell…”
“You’d have arranged for a cave-in specially?” Timothy retorts.
A distant shout interrupts Jim’s answer. “Turner! Stedding! You in there?’
Timothy nearly jumps away, shyness returning full force. “Yes! Can you get us out?”
“We’ll do our damnedest!” comes back, followed by ringing of metal on stone.
“It’ll take them a while, you know,” Jim murmurs in Timothy’s ear, making him shiver.
“Too risky…” Timothy shakes his head, then relents enough to kiss him again, whispering a promise. “Later.”
Fandom: Swallows and Amazons series
Rating: T
Length: 500 words
Content notes: Set just before Pigeon Post. Timothy Stedding / Jim Turner.
Author notes: For the "key" prompt at
fan_flashworks . Also fits the "exploration" challenge (bingo card square). 12th in my personal 50x500 Swallows and Amazons fic challenge (prompt: sensual).Summary: "It’s torture, to be so near Jim and yet so far; to want so badly to reach out and touch him, to be certain he’ll never dare."
Timothy stands, stretching his aching back. He and Jim are exploring an abandoned tunnel, hoping to find something the Brazilian miners missed. It’s small and cramped, and oh, it’s torture, to be so near Jim and yet so far; to want so badly to reach out and touch him, to be certain he’ll never dare. And yet… Sometimes he has wondered, when Jim holds his gaze a little too long, seeks his company a little too often… when it feels like they’re both trying to communicate in code but neither has the right key. Other times he’s sure he’s imagining everything.
Perhaps - no, certainly - he’s distracted, by sweat glistening in lamplight, by trying not to imagine the feel of those calloused fingers against his skin; not paying enough attention to the warning sounds of the earth. If there was any warning, before the sudden ear-splitting crash, the flying chips of rock, the chilling realisation they’re trapped.
They try to dig their way out, but they’d come in with few tools, intending merely to see where this tunnel led. A further shower of rock warns them away, and they retreat to the dubious safety of the furthest end, to the hope their campmates will be able to dig through.
“No need to worry,” Jim says, with such forced cheerfulness it makes Timothy snort with laughter - choked off abruptly as he sees the trickle of blood running from Jim’s forehead.
“You’re bleeding, old chap. Hold on.”
He pulls out a fairly clean handkerchief, and carefully dabs at the cut.
“Nothing serious I think, but it’s bleeding a fair bit,” he says, wishing Jim weren’t looking at him with that fierce intensity.
And yet - damn it - there’s a fair chance they’re going to die here; if this isn’t a time to take risks, when is? Hardly daring to breathe, he shifts his hand - still holding the handkerchief in place - to caress Jim’s face with his fingertips. For an instant, Jim freezes, and Timothy nearly yanks back. Then he smiles, bringing up his own hand to hold Timothy’s in place, and Timothy almost stops breathing again at the touch. Jim’s tongue darts out, wetting his lips, drawing Timothy’s attention like a magnet; before he can give himself time to second-guess, he leans forwards and kisses Jim, who wraps strong arms around him.
“Why didn’t we do this sooner?” Jim asks, breaking the kiss at last, but still holding him close. “If I’d known imminent death was the key to bringing you out of your shell…”
“You’d have arranged for a cave-in specially?” Timothy retorts.
A distant shout interrupts Jim’s answer. “Turner! Stedding! You in there?’
Timothy nearly jumps away, shyness returning full force. “Yes! Can you get us out?”
“We’ll do our damnedest!” comes back, followed by ringing of metal on stone.
“It’ll take them a while, you know,” Jim murmurs in Timothy’s ear, making him shiver.
“Too risky…” Timothy shakes his head, then relents enough to kiss him again, whispering a promise. “Later.”