"Sexual Dead Things" + "Canticle"
Feb. 13th, 2006 10:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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rec50My prompt table/list.
Claim: Backstreet Boys: general
Title: Sexual Dead Things
Author: Kate & Nic, at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sirkate & xoverau
Characters: AJ, Kevin
Prompt: 19 Dark
Rating: explicit sex
Length: long/epic, episodic
Brief summary: I've choosen the prompt Dark for this story because it's there everything starts: at night, in the dark club where AJ, the college student and method actor doing research, meets Kevin, the cross-dressing punk/goth singer doing a gig. The first chapters bristles with the tension between them, and while later installments may lack this they more than makes up for it with hot sex and interesting character development. This AJ and especially this Kevin are very different from how they usually are portrayed in fanfic, and it definitely adds to the appeal of this wonderfully unusual story.
The last set ends and the band starts to break down the stage. AJ finally tears his eyes away from the stage - now that Kevin's not on it - and finishes his fifth coke. "Hey, Carlo, could you tell me where the bathroom is?" He follows directions to the dark little room, uses the urinal and washes his hands. In the mirror, he looks completely normal until he pulls down the sunglasses. His eyes are wide and shocked and laughing at him. AJ's always had a strong sense of humor about himself.
Kevin debates braiding back his hair, but he decides the skirt's enough oddness for a single night. Maybe AJ'll do it, if things go... however they'll go. He's not sure what direction his hopes are tending.
AJ returns to the bar, waiting, though he's not sure what for.
He's actually wearing a dress this time, not just a skirt, an unadorned black sheath slit up both legs to the hip, and knit silver-shot leggings underneath. He's got his full-length trench over it. He bundles the fabric and buttons it away for the ride. He walks, taller for the heeled calfskin boots. Bracelets of wire and rawhide and silver bells ring on his wrists.
If AJ's there, he's there. If he's not, he'll drive home and let the wind pick apart his hair.
AJ looks up at the jingling sound. Most of the people have cleared out, and so no one is looking at Kevin as he walks toward the bar, looking like a bad-ass wet dream. AJ's mouth goes dry and he wonders if Kevin's hair is as soft as it looks.
Link to the story: Sexual Dead Things
Claim: Backstreet Boys: general
Title: Canticle
Author: Nic, atxoverau
Characters: BSB
Prompt: 26 Death
Rating: -
Length: medium
Brief summary: This is an enormously powerful and gripping story about Fae and mortals, creativity and music, love and death. The language matches the story, beautiful and haunting and not letting you go even at the end.
"And whom do we dance to his death today?"
Brian looked up from twisting down the mesh of his microphone. His curls were scratched with the last of the sun that streamed through the rippled glass of the practice space they'd rented above Dooley's Second Chance. "Nobody. Maybe. Have some faith."
Nick sat beside him crosslegged, hands folded over his knees. He'd ripped the denim over them artistically, three diagonal slashes like the bite of a very old dog, and tucked the cuffs into his sneakers. Starsky and Hutch, suffering from leprosy and severe ezcema, tared from his vintage t-shirt. "It's been fifty years, man. Fifty years since..."
"Since you," Brian said. "Fifty years isn't long. They even had guitars back then."
"No guitars," Nick said despairingly. He reached out with one toe and slid his case toward him, as if to assure himself it still weighed enough. "What did you do?"
"Cowbells," Brian deadpanned. "And we clapped."
Howie, setting up Kevin's keys on the rubber-backed mat he'd hauled up the stairs, laughed. His skin was cocoa-colored in the shadows and caramel where the light struck it. Sun fibered the walls behind him as if it shone through ice, and against it his shadow was a gargoyle's.
Link to the story: Canticle
Claim: Backstreet Boys: general
Title: Sexual Dead Things
Author: Kate & Nic, at
sirkate & xoverauCharacters: AJ, Kevin
Prompt: 19 Dark
Rating: explicit sex
Length: long/epic, episodic
Brief summary: I've choosen the prompt Dark for this story because it's there everything starts: at night, in the dark club where AJ, the college student and method actor doing research, meets Kevin, the cross-dressing punk/goth singer doing a gig. The first chapters bristles with the tension between them, and while later installments may lack this they more than makes up for it with hot sex and interesting character development. This AJ and especially this Kevin are very different from how they usually are portrayed in fanfic, and it definitely adds to the appeal of this wonderfully unusual story.
The last set ends and the band starts to break down the stage. AJ finally tears his eyes away from the stage - now that Kevin's not on it - and finishes his fifth coke. "Hey, Carlo, could you tell me where the bathroom is?" He follows directions to the dark little room, uses the urinal and washes his hands. In the mirror, he looks completely normal until he pulls down the sunglasses. His eyes are wide and shocked and laughing at him. AJ's always had a strong sense of humor about himself.
Kevin debates braiding back his hair, but he decides the skirt's enough oddness for a single night. Maybe AJ'll do it, if things go... however they'll go. He's not sure what direction his hopes are tending.
AJ returns to the bar, waiting, though he's not sure what for.
He's actually wearing a dress this time, not just a skirt, an unadorned black sheath slit up both legs to the hip, and knit silver-shot leggings underneath. He's got his full-length trench over it. He bundles the fabric and buttons it away for the ride. He walks, taller for the heeled calfskin boots. Bracelets of wire and rawhide and silver bells ring on his wrists.
If AJ's there, he's there. If he's not, he'll drive home and let the wind pick apart his hair.
AJ looks up at the jingling sound. Most of the people have cleared out, and so no one is looking at Kevin as he walks toward the bar, looking like a bad-ass wet dream. AJ's mouth goes dry and he wonders if Kevin's hair is as soft as it looks.
Link to the story: Sexual Dead Things
Claim: Backstreet Boys: general
Title: Canticle
Author: Nic, at
xoverauCharacters: BSB
Prompt: 26 Death
Rating: -
Length: medium
Brief summary: This is an enormously powerful and gripping story about Fae and mortals, creativity and music, love and death. The language matches the story, beautiful and haunting and not letting you go even at the end.
"And whom do we dance to his death today?"
Brian looked up from twisting down the mesh of his microphone. His curls were scratched with the last of the sun that streamed through the rippled glass of the practice space they'd rented above Dooley's Second Chance. "Nobody. Maybe. Have some faith."
Nick sat beside him crosslegged, hands folded over his knees. He'd ripped the denim over them artistically, three diagonal slashes like the bite of a very old dog, and tucked the cuffs into his sneakers. Starsky and Hutch, suffering from leprosy and severe ezcema, tared from his vintage t-shirt. "It's been fifty years, man. Fifty years since..."
"Since you," Brian said. "Fifty years isn't long. They even had guitars back then."
"No guitars," Nick said despairingly. He reached out with one toe and slid his case toward him, as if to assure himself it still weighed enough. "What did you do?"
"Cowbells," Brian deadpanned. "And we clapped."
Howie, setting up Kevin's keys on the rubber-backed mat he'd hauled up the stairs, laughed. His skin was cocoa-colored in the shadows and caramel where the light struck it. Sun fibered the walls behind him as if it shone through ice, and against it his shadow was a gargoyle's.
Link to the story: Canticle
