ficlets

[annapeace.livejournal.com]

Title: Taste
Characters: Anton/Kostya
Summary: Anton shares the only thing that he has left.


In his heart he’s always known that being Dark didn’t make one evil; it’s just a line people like him toss out to make themselves feel better. And as he draws back his sleeve and makes that first cut on his arm, Anton knows he can never recant his words. This is as much as he can do.

His blood trickles down and pools in the palm of his hand, and Kostya laps at it eagerly. There’s no need for a license when it’s freely given.

“Smoky,” Kostya murmurs around his teeth. “Harsh, like whisky.”

Then he drags his tongue across Anton’s wound; it begins to clot immediately. Kostya smiles and pushes up to kiss Anton, smearing his lips red and filling his mouth with his own blood. Anton savors it because he knows it’s the closest he’ll ever be to being good.

--

Title: Retraction
Players: Nick Lidstrom/Tomas Holmstrom
Summary: Nick speaks to the press, and Homer isn't too pleased.


Tomas didn’t usually make dramatic entrances, but tonight he stormed into the room with all the force of a hurricane. Nick, who had been lying on his bed preparing to read a bit before going to sleep, started so badly his book flew out of his hands, landing on the floor with a thump that punctuated Tomas slamming the door shut.

“Homer?”

“…not fast and skillful like a Henrik Zetterberg? Or big with good hands like Mikael Samuelsson?”

Nick raised an eyebrow. “I said you were one of a kind.”

Tomas, busy stripping, appeared not to hear him. Nick sat up.

“Homer, what are you-“

He was cut off abruptly by Tomas tackling him into the covers.

“I’ll show YOU big with good hands.”

“…and skillful too?”

--

Title: Win
Involving: Aaron Piersol/Michael Phelps
Summary: Aaron waxes poetic over Michael.


Aaron watches droplets of water trail down Michael’s back and linger for seconds before falling to the floor. In a fit of true Shakespearian melodrama, perhaps because he had been studying it in class, Aaron wishes he could be those drops of water. It would be worth it to trickle down a dirty drain if it meant being able to touch Michael like that for a moment.

Michael turns, as though sensing Aaron’s eyes on him, and smiles. “What are you doing just standing there? You had a great race, the reporters are dying for you out there.”

And I am dying for you in here, Aaron thinks, but he manages a smile back. “Yeah, guess I should hurry and dress, huh.”

“Yeah, winners like you don’t get to shower.” Michael laughs a bit, slinging another towel over his shoulder, and heads to rinse the pool off him. He pauses at the entrance of the showers though, and glances back. “Hey Aaron? You really were great today.”

“Thanks, Mike,” Aaron replies, not bothering to add that he could really be great right now. He finishes pulling on his tracksuit and heads for the exit, preparing himself for the cameras and microphones that will come. He has won over Michael today, he is sure he can win over Michael in Athens.