Yet another eyeliner fic
Apr. 27th, 2003 09:58 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
moxie-brown.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
ds_flashfiction*clears throat* Yeah, I'm new. Long time reader, first time dS writer, and it shows. It's also RayK/Stella, which comes as no bigger suprise than to me.
Yeah, okay. Let's do this thing.
Something Made Up
617 words
"You're gonna poke my eye out," Ray whines, swinging his right eyeball around as it tries to track Stell's hand hovering over his face.
"Stop bitching, or I'll send you to the Emergency Room," Stella huffs, her glitter-pink lips pursing in annoyance. "You're the one that wanted to do this in the first pace."
Ray feels his face flush, and instinctively ducks his head down. A quick jerk of Stella's hand and it's up again, and this time he catches her eye as she gives him the warning glare. Hard as the brick facade of her parent's two-story house, and does she know how much she looks like Princess Leia when she does that, all dour regality and rebel-girl strength?
But he knows she isn't that type of princess, not the freedom-fighter kind---at least not yet. Once in a while, and it's getting more frequent, she'd read the newspaper and storm around her bedroom, a jumble of words tumbling out of her mouth, tooth-sharp and spit-wet with her anger, her indignation, her passion. All he could do on those occasions was sit back and watch, nod his head and murmur a yes or no when she'd suddenly whip around and demand his assent. He was getting good at that.
But for now she's just caught up in the rebellion thing, and that's why they are dressed in tight jeans, tattered shirts, and wearing enough gel in their hair to be a fire hazard. Her parents are away for the weekend and his folks don't know he isn't over at Johnny's place, raiding the fridge and talking about whatever parents think teenage boys talk about: probably booze, boobs, and sports, in any particular order.
Stella wasn't Johnny, and she wasn't that kind of princess, so when he'd stuttered through the invitation to that new club on the other side of town, her eyes had widened and glowed before taking on that savage kind of fierceness she got every time he did something good. It made him want to do crazy stuff---get drunk, get tattooed, get crazed. And he knew she wanted it as bad as he did, to go out and let the music and the bodies and the night pound away every stupid little thing in their stupid little lives. So when he looks her straight in the eye and says, "Your idea too," it's Stella's turn to blush.
"Yeah." She clears her throat, and then looks back to the eyeliner pencil in her hand, giving it her full attention. "Almost done with this one. Close your eyes."
He lets his lids fall shut, and inhales the alcohol-tinged powder smell of Stella's hair, the petroleum sweet scent of her lipstick, and the soapy flower fragrance on her fingers. Another hard-soft press, another weird slick-rough drag, and Stell leans back, stare so scrutinizing Ray wiggles on the bed, again.
She tilts her head and holds out her hand. "Up, Stanley."
He grabs her wrist, loose and tight at once, just a quick flex of his fingers. "Ray."
Something flashes in those kohl-ringed eyes, sharp and fleeting, but then he's standing up and she steps back, just enough.
He wonders what she sees, because his vision is full of black and soft and blonde and rough. Stella's eyes are all that and more, and he can feel if not see his reflection in their dilated depths.
"Ready?" she whispers, and then she's all but diving behind him, fumbling with her jacket on the bed.
He waits for her to shrug it on before reaching for her hand. "Yeah."
The bracelet on his wrist hits the smaller, jeweled one on hers. Sometimes he wishes they were the same.
The End.
Hope it wasn't too bad, and it looks like![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mergatrude and I where on the same wavelength.
Yeah, okay. Let's do this thing.
Something Made Up
617 words
"You're gonna poke my eye out," Ray whines, swinging his right eyeball around as it tries to track Stell's hand hovering over his face.
"Stop bitching, or I'll send you to the Emergency Room," Stella huffs, her glitter-pink lips pursing in annoyance. "You're the one that wanted to do this in the first pace."
Ray feels his face flush, and instinctively ducks his head down. A quick jerk of Stella's hand and it's up again, and this time he catches her eye as she gives him the warning glare. Hard as the brick facade of her parent's two-story house, and does she know how much she looks like Princess Leia when she does that, all dour regality and rebel-girl strength?
But he knows she isn't that type of princess, not the freedom-fighter kind---at least not yet. Once in a while, and it's getting more frequent, she'd read the newspaper and storm around her bedroom, a jumble of words tumbling out of her mouth, tooth-sharp and spit-wet with her anger, her indignation, her passion. All he could do on those occasions was sit back and watch, nod his head and murmur a yes or no when she'd suddenly whip around and demand his assent. He was getting good at that.
But for now she's just caught up in the rebellion thing, and that's why they are dressed in tight jeans, tattered shirts, and wearing enough gel in their hair to be a fire hazard. Her parents are away for the weekend and his folks don't know he isn't over at Johnny's place, raiding the fridge and talking about whatever parents think teenage boys talk about: probably booze, boobs, and sports, in any particular order.
Stella wasn't Johnny, and she wasn't that kind of princess, so when he'd stuttered through the invitation to that new club on the other side of town, her eyes had widened and glowed before taking on that savage kind of fierceness she got every time he did something good. It made him want to do crazy stuff---get drunk, get tattooed, get crazed. And he knew she wanted it as bad as he did, to go out and let the music and the bodies and the night pound away every stupid little thing in their stupid little lives. So when he looks her straight in the eye and says, "Your idea too," it's Stella's turn to blush.
"Yeah." She clears her throat, and then looks back to the eyeliner pencil in her hand, giving it her full attention. "Almost done with this one. Close your eyes."
He lets his lids fall shut, and inhales the alcohol-tinged powder smell of Stella's hair, the petroleum sweet scent of her lipstick, and the soapy flower fragrance on her fingers. Another hard-soft press, another weird slick-rough drag, and Stell leans back, stare so scrutinizing Ray wiggles on the bed, again.
She tilts her head and holds out her hand. "Up, Stanley."
He grabs her wrist, loose and tight at once, just a quick flex of his fingers. "Ray."
Something flashes in those kohl-ringed eyes, sharp and fleeting, but then he's standing up and she steps back, just enough.
He wonders what she sees, because his vision is full of black and soft and blonde and rough. Stella's eyes are all that and more, and he can feel if not see his reflection in their dilated depths.
"Ready?" she whispers, and then she's all but diving behind him, fumbling with her jacket on the bed.
He waits for her to shrug it on before reaching for her hand. "Yeah."
The bracelet on his wrist hits the smaller, jeweled one on hers. Sometimes he wishes they were the same.
The End.
Hope it wasn't too bad, and it looks like
mergatrude and I where on the same wavelength.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Very nice
Date: 2003-04-27 08:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-04-27 09:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-04-27 10:35 pm (UTC)The bracelet on his wrist hits the smaller, jeweled one on hers. Sometimes he wishes they were the same.
Lovely.
Ooooh!
Date: 2003-04-28 03:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-04-28 05:44 am (UTC)Nice work!
no subject
Date: 2003-04-28 08:16 am (UTC)Re: Very nice
Date: 2003-04-28 02:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-04-28 02:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-04-28 02:35 pm (UTC)Re: Ooooh!
Date: 2003-04-28 02:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-04-28 02:38 pm (UTC)Now, I'm wondering what kind of princess she really is.
no subject
Date: 2003-04-28 06:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-04-29 09:00 am (UTC)So when he looks her straight in the eye and says, "Your idea too," it's Stella's turn to blush.
Your young Ray is really great, too. Even though this relationship is so important to him (like his relationship with Fraser, whatever the stripe), he doesn't back down from calling it like he sees it...