Double Negatives - Story Time
Nov. 22nd, 2006 11:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cmk418Title: Story Time
Pairing: Ryan O'Reily/Miguel Alvarez (is anyone surprised?)
Warnings: Language, sexual situations (sort of) - under 17 probably shouldn't read this
Word Count: 1521
Author's Note: So this is it. Thanks, everyone who has stuck with it despite all of its strangeness. Thanks especially to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
history_gurl who basically begged this into existence and kept me working on it. It would still be stuck in plot bunny limbo if she hadn't. And I wouldn't have had the incredible joy/pain of writing for the past few weeks.
To see the previous installments click the link of your choice:
Prologue
The Cat in the Hat (Adebisi)
Gloria (McManus)
The Dance (B/K)
Suzanne (Murphy)
Story Time
The warden had locked the four of them in solitary while the shit from the riot was getting sorted out. They’d already been here three months and most everyone was getting a little stir crazy. Simon Adebisi would beg for tits at odd intervals but since he was going through detox, the hacks ignored him. Kareem Said would pray, and pray, and pray, and occasionally go on about things like prisoner’s rights, but mostly. with him, it was just the praying. Miguel Alvarez was erratic. Half the time, perfectly normal, and the other half, freaked out. Never knew which Alvarez would show up when they’d open the window. Ryan O’Reily was the only one who seemed perfectly comfortable in solitary. Bored out of his fucking mind, but perfectly comfortable.
Ryan was trying to get a nice afternoon nap when Alvarez started up again. “Can’t breathe, walls closing in. Gotta get out. Gotta get out. Gotta get out.” He could hear Alvarez pacing restlessly, occasionally slamming his fists or his whole body against the wall separating their cells.
“Alvarez, just chill out, man. It’s okay.”
“What the fuck do you know, O’Reily?”
“You just gotta get your mind somewhere else, you know.”
“Well, it’s kinda hard in this TINY FUCKING CELL!”
“Since it looks like I’m not going to get any sleep, you might as well talk to me.”
“Talk to you, yeah, right.”
“Alvarez, your life is so fucking boring, it would probably put me to sleep.”
“You don’t know shit about my life, asshole.”
“So tell me something then. Impress me.”
“Like personal shit?”
“If you want.”
“And then you’ll use it against me.”
“It’s not going to get a hell of a lot of mileage in Ad Seg. Make something up if you don’t trust me.”
“Maybe I will, but you gotta tell me something about you first.”
“Can’t talk about what I did on the street.”
“Why the fuck would I care about that shit? Can’t be much different from what I done.”
“Only difference is that we were good at it. But I don’t want to talk about that shit.”
“So tell me about your wife or something.”
Her name slips out before Ryan can stop it. “Shannon?”
“Her name’s Shannon?”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“So damn Irish.”
“And what’s your girl’s name? Maria?”
“Maritza.”
“Different,” he deadpanned.
“We got arrested together. Haven’t seen her since the funeral though.”
“That’s tough.” Great, he had to bring that up. A depressed Alvarez would only make him long for psychotic Alvarez. Time to get back on a track to sanity. “What’s she like, Maritza?”
“Beautiful. Dark eyes, long dark hair, incredibly soft lips, curves in all the right places, man, I can almost see her, feel her in front of me.”
“What’s she feel like?”
“Soft. I can feel her hair brushing against my stomach when she kisses me. It’s like a piece of silk drifting over me. I could spend hours feeling that hair brushing up against my body. No feeling like it in the world.” Through the wall, Ryan could sense Miguel relaxing.
“Yeah. Whatever. Shannon had short hair. At least toward the end she did. I think she cut it just to piss me off. She was always doing things to piss me off toward the end. But in the beginning, she was wild, like a firecracker. Always wanting to try something new. This one time, wow. She took my dick between her tits and started to rub them against me. I think I shot all over her.” Ryan felt himself getting hard at the memory, so he loosened his pants and proceeded to jerk off.
“Maritza never did anything like that to me. She’s very traditional. She didn’t even want me to kiss below her stomach, and that was even before she was pregnant.”
“You were willing to go down on her? And she refused you? You’re both nuts.”
“Well... there were... other girls.”
“You don’t say.” With all the hesitations, Ryan knew that Alvarez was lying.
“There was this one girl, Dorinda.”
“Dorinda?” Un-fucking-believable. “Maybe you should think about her tonight and tell me about her tomorrow.” That should give Alvarez enough time to spin a real doozy.
“Yeah, okay. And tell me more about Shannon.”
“Shannon and her older sister.”
“You slept with your wife’s older sister?”
“Never said I was a saint, Alvarez. You feeling better?”
“Yeah, I’m just going to lay here and think about Doralinda.”
“Thought you said her name was Dorinda.”
“Right, right. That’s the shortened version of her name.”
Ryan shook his head. Time to start thinking of a name for Shannon’s older sister. Something Irish. Kathleen, maybe. That would work.
Over the next few months, Ryan and Miguel would spin tales that would get more and more fantastic each time. It became a challenge for them to see how quickly it would take to get the other guy off. Ryan thought he knew how to tell a good story, but the shit that Miguel came up with seemed to be something from literature, not like “Letters to Penthouse” but those classics like the nuns were always trying to get him to read in school.
When he talked about sex, Alvarez was a poet. He’d describe the rhythms of a woman’s breath as if he’d paid attention to every change. He’d talk about the shape of her lips, how they felt against his skin, the way she smiled. He’d reminisce on the sound of her voice, dropped low in passion, or how she laughed or cried out in pleasure. He’d paint a picture of her body – legs that may have been able to wrap around him, tits that may have filled his hands, skin that was smooth and perfect from head to toe. He’d use the Spanish words he would call her to make her feel special – “querida” or “corazón”. Mostly though, and the part Ryan always liked to hear, Miguel would talk either about what she looked like when she came or what exactly she did in order to make him come.
Ryan had the opposite approach, but he could always get Alvarez with the dirty talk. He’d echo the things Shannon used to say to him to get him going. The girl had quite a talented mouth on her, in more ways than one. There were things that he didn’t talk about -- like the night she tied him to the bed and experimented on him with various sex toys. Although thoughts of that night would make Ryan hard in no time, they would also make him look like a fag if he breathed a word of them to anyone else. So, his stories in comparison to Miguel’s were crude, fast and hot, fitting one of many variations on the “Fuck me now” theme. But Miguel never complained.
On the day things changed, Alvarez was describing his neighbor Analisa’s skill at giving a blowjob. Instead of just depicting the scene, Miguel went on to talk about the reactions that he was having to the movements of her lips on his cock. Ryan was lying in his cell, eyes closed, stroking his dick, as he listened. This was no longer a story where he could envision himself as an impartial witness. In his mind’s eye, he suddenly saw himself on his knees, looking up into Miguel’s soft brown eyes as Analisa might have. And try as he might, Ryan couldn’t stop either the mental image or the movement of his hand as he brought himself to climax.
After a few moments, Alvarez knocked against the wall. “O’Reily? You go to sleep on me in there?”
Ryan stared at the ceiling. He wasn’t sure if he ever wanted to close his eyes again, but he was very sure that now was not the time to continue the discussion. So he stayed quiet, listening to Alvarez move about his cell, mumbling something like, “You owe me.”
Days passed with Alvarez continuing to rattle off story after story. Occasionally Ryan would tell one of his own, just to keep the momentum going. But the listening became a sort of addiction for Ryan. Miguel’s voice would drift over him, whispering endearments to unseen women in Spanish, and Ryan would grow hard in reaction. He didn’t understand the words, and didn’t think to ask Alvarez what they meant. He just loved the sound of the words rolling off Miguel’s tongue. Even years later, Ryan would get aroused by thinking of those words, that soft voice, whispering.
“Querida.”
“Mi corazón.”
Mi corazón, my heart. He’d been learning Spanish for six months now, ever since Miguel moved in with him. One of the things that he loved about the language was that he could say “Ain’t no” as much as he wanted, and it still meant “no”.
Not that it mattered anymore, Ryan thought with a grin. He lay there with a sleeping Miguel wrapped in his arms, and thought that, right now, all the negatives in his life had seemed to cancel each other out and be replaced with something pretty damn good.
END
Pairing: Ryan O'Reily/Miguel Alvarez (is anyone surprised?)
Warnings: Language, sexual situations (sort of) - under 17 probably shouldn't read this
Word Count: 1521
Author's Note: So this is it. Thanks, everyone who has stuck with it despite all of its strangeness. Thanks especially to
history_gurl who basically begged this into existence and kept me working on it. It would still be stuck in plot bunny limbo if she hadn't. And I wouldn't have had the incredible joy/pain of writing for the past few weeks.To see the previous installments click the link of your choice:
Prologue
The Cat in the Hat (Adebisi)
Gloria (McManus)
The Dance (B/K)
Suzanne (Murphy)
Story Time
The warden had locked the four of them in solitary while the shit from the riot was getting sorted out. They’d already been here three months and most everyone was getting a little stir crazy. Simon Adebisi would beg for tits at odd intervals but since he was going through detox, the hacks ignored him. Kareem Said would pray, and pray, and pray, and occasionally go on about things like prisoner’s rights, but mostly. with him, it was just the praying. Miguel Alvarez was erratic. Half the time, perfectly normal, and the other half, freaked out. Never knew which Alvarez would show up when they’d open the window. Ryan O’Reily was the only one who seemed perfectly comfortable in solitary. Bored out of his fucking mind, but perfectly comfortable.
Ryan was trying to get a nice afternoon nap when Alvarez started up again. “Can’t breathe, walls closing in. Gotta get out. Gotta get out. Gotta get out.” He could hear Alvarez pacing restlessly, occasionally slamming his fists or his whole body against the wall separating their cells.
“Alvarez, just chill out, man. It’s okay.”
“What the fuck do you know, O’Reily?”
“You just gotta get your mind somewhere else, you know.”
“Well, it’s kinda hard in this TINY FUCKING CELL!”
“Since it looks like I’m not going to get any sleep, you might as well talk to me.”
“Talk to you, yeah, right.”
“Alvarez, your life is so fucking boring, it would probably put me to sleep.”
“You don’t know shit about my life, asshole.”
“So tell me something then. Impress me.”
“Like personal shit?”
“If you want.”
“And then you’ll use it against me.”
“It’s not going to get a hell of a lot of mileage in Ad Seg. Make something up if you don’t trust me.”
“Maybe I will, but you gotta tell me something about you first.”
“Can’t talk about what I did on the street.”
“Why the fuck would I care about that shit? Can’t be much different from what I done.”
“Only difference is that we were good at it. But I don’t want to talk about that shit.”
“So tell me about your wife or something.”
Her name slips out before Ryan can stop it. “Shannon?”
“Her name’s Shannon?”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“So damn Irish.”
“And what’s your girl’s name? Maria?”
“Maritza.”
“Different,” he deadpanned.
“We got arrested together. Haven’t seen her since the funeral though.”
“That’s tough.” Great, he had to bring that up. A depressed Alvarez would only make him long for psychotic Alvarez. Time to get back on a track to sanity. “What’s she like, Maritza?”
“Beautiful. Dark eyes, long dark hair, incredibly soft lips, curves in all the right places, man, I can almost see her, feel her in front of me.”
“What’s she feel like?”
“Soft. I can feel her hair brushing against my stomach when she kisses me. It’s like a piece of silk drifting over me. I could spend hours feeling that hair brushing up against my body. No feeling like it in the world.” Through the wall, Ryan could sense Miguel relaxing.
“Yeah. Whatever. Shannon had short hair. At least toward the end she did. I think she cut it just to piss me off. She was always doing things to piss me off toward the end. But in the beginning, she was wild, like a firecracker. Always wanting to try something new. This one time, wow. She took my dick between her tits and started to rub them against me. I think I shot all over her.” Ryan felt himself getting hard at the memory, so he loosened his pants and proceeded to jerk off.
“Maritza never did anything like that to me. She’s very traditional. She didn’t even want me to kiss below her stomach, and that was even before she was pregnant.”
“You were willing to go down on her? And she refused you? You’re both nuts.”
“Well... there were... other girls.”
“You don’t say.” With all the hesitations, Ryan knew that Alvarez was lying.
“There was this one girl, Dorinda.”
“Dorinda?” Un-fucking-believable. “Maybe you should think about her tonight and tell me about her tomorrow.” That should give Alvarez enough time to spin a real doozy.
“Yeah, okay. And tell me more about Shannon.”
“Shannon and her older sister.”
“You slept with your wife’s older sister?”
“Never said I was a saint, Alvarez. You feeling better?”
“Yeah, I’m just going to lay here and think about Doralinda.”
“Thought you said her name was Dorinda.”
“Right, right. That’s the shortened version of her name.”
Ryan shook his head. Time to start thinking of a name for Shannon’s older sister. Something Irish. Kathleen, maybe. That would work.
Over the next few months, Ryan and Miguel would spin tales that would get more and more fantastic each time. It became a challenge for them to see how quickly it would take to get the other guy off. Ryan thought he knew how to tell a good story, but the shit that Miguel came up with seemed to be something from literature, not like “Letters to Penthouse” but those classics like the nuns were always trying to get him to read in school.
When he talked about sex, Alvarez was a poet. He’d describe the rhythms of a woman’s breath as if he’d paid attention to every change. He’d talk about the shape of her lips, how they felt against his skin, the way she smiled. He’d reminisce on the sound of her voice, dropped low in passion, or how she laughed or cried out in pleasure. He’d paint a picture of her body – legs that may have been able to wrap around him, tits that may have filled his hands, skin that was smooth and perfect from head to toe. He’d use the Spanish words he would call her to make her feel special – “querida” or “corazón”. Mostly though, and the part Ryan always liked to hear, Miguel would talk either about what she looked like when she came or what exactly she did in order to make him come.
Ryan had the opposite approach, but he could always get Alvarez with the dirty talk. He’d echo the things Shannon used to say to him to get him going. The girl had quite a talented mouth on her, in more ways than one. There were things that he didn’t talk about -- like the night she tied him to the bed and experimented on him with various sex toys. Although thoughts of that night would make Ryan hard in no time, they would also make him look like a fag if he breathed a word of them to anyone else. So, his stories in comparison to Miguel’s were crude, fast and hot, fitting one of many variations on the “Fuck me now” theme. But Miguel never complained.
On the day things changed, Alvarez was describing his neighbor Analisa’s skill at giving a blowjob. Instead of just depicting the scene, Miguel went on to talk about the reactions that he was having to the movements of her lips on his cock. Ryan was lying in his cell, eyes closed, stroking his dick, as he listened. This was no longer a story where he could envision himself as an impartial witness. In his mind’s eye, he suddenly saw himself on his knees, looking up into Miguel’s soft brown eyes as Analisa might have. And try as he might, Ryan couldn’t stop either the mental image or the movement of his hand as he brought himself to climax.
After a few moments, Alvarez knocked against the wall. “O’Reily? You go to sleep on me in there?”
Ryan stared at the ceiling. He wasn’t sure if he ever wanted to close his eyes again, but he was very sure that now was not the time to continue the discussion. So he stayed quiet, listening to Alvarez move about his cell, mumbling something like, “You owe me.”
Days passed with Alvarez continuing to rattle off story after story. Occasionally Ryan would tell one of his own, just to keep the momentum going. But the listening became a sort of addiction for Ryan. Miguel’s voice would drift over him, whispering endearments to unseen women in Spanish, and Ryan would grow hard in reaction. He didn’t understand the words, and didn’t think to ask Alvarez what they meant. He just loved the sound of the words rolling off Miguel’s tongue. Even years later, Ryan would get aroused by thinking of those words, that soft voice, whispering.
“Querida.”
“Mi corazón.”
Mi corazón, my heart. He’d been learning Spanish for six months now, ever since Miguel moved in with him. One of the things that he loved about the language was that he could say “Ain’t no” as much as he wanted, and it still meant “no”.
Not that it mattered anymore, Ryan thought with a grin. He lay there with a sleeping Miguel wrapped in his arms, and thought that, right now, all the negatives in his life had seemed to cancel each other out and be replaced with something pretty damn good.
END
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-11-23 01:04 pm (UTC)That was fantastic! I loved the fast-forward at the end, and the happy ending, and the reference back to the 'ain't no' issue of the prologue.
no subject
Date: 2006-11-23 02:09 pm (UTC)I'm really glad you enjoyed it.
no subject
Date: 2006-11-23 05:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-11-28 05:38 am (UTC)Strangely enough, Gloria doesn't factor into my plans for Ryan at this point.
And I'll probably do another one with McManus - just because I love him.
P.S. Thanks for creating one of my most frequently used icons!
no subject
Date: 2006-11-23 06:34 pm (UTC)I tend to see both Miguel and Ryan as emotionally needy guys who have to be players to protect themselves. What? So maybe I'm romanticizing them hopelessly, but I'm okay with that. The fact that you had them end up together makes me happy.
If I had to pick an OTP for O'Reily, I'd probably pick Murphy, but that wouldn't work in a canon(ish) story, so Alvarez is a good choice.
I loved the slow build of this. You convey the lushness of Miguel's stories without giving a lot of details that might make them read more like O'Reily's stories. And the jump at the end makes perfect sense.
I am just so happy you wrote these! And I take full blame for plot bunny poking and feeding. These were all fantastic!
no subject
Date: 2006-11-28 06:06 am (UTC)As far as pairings go, I would probably have ranked them as such, including a few not mentioned in this series: McManus, Murphy, Alvarez, Ortilani, Beecher, Adebisi, Stanislavsky, Gloria, Claire, Keller (okay, maybe if someone else was writing him, he could move up).
This drove me crazy for a little while because when I first wrote it, the tone from story to story was so uneven and didn't work until I finally settled on the idea that Miguel's would be the less porn-y of the two - my brain could never hear Alvarez saying "I fucked her", but those same words would roll naturally off Ryan's tongue.
The jump at the end was originally supposed to be an epilogue, but the timing necessitated that I combine it with this part (and it also solved a lot of my "how the heck do I get out of this" problems).
I'm really thrilled that you enjoyed these. I got a kick out of writing them. Thanks for the support and encouragement along the way.
Storytime
Date: 2007-07-09 08:00 pm (UTC)I love that Miguel talks about women and sex poetically,and that Ryan responds to that.(I've been planning on having Miguel recite some of Pablo Neruda at some point because it's romantic and sexy at the same time).
This was a wonderful series,and I enjoyed Ryan's progression to having someone to love! Thank you !
Re: Storytime
Date: 2007-07-09 08:21 pm (UTC)Thank you so much for taking the time to read these and for your individual comments. You've really made this a very nice Monday for me.
Re: Storytime
Date: 2007-07-09 11:11 pm (UTC)Everything about that scene was sexy and sensual.The frisking,the glances,Miguel's smile, oh, and the lollipop action...
Another perfect opportunity not followed up on,but at least we can write about it!
I'm glad I could make this Monday nice for you-you made it that way for me as well with these stories!
no subject
Date: 2009-08-20 12:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-21 09:04 pm (UTC)I'm really glad you enjoyed this!