[FIC] Hanging Around
Mar. 19th, 2007 10:00 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
crabby-monkey.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
wl_fanfictionWe all know Ryan's tendency to 'hang himself' on stage. Ever wonder how he came up with that particular quirk? And what happens when you carry a quirk a bit too far? Submitted for your edification and amusement, a speculation.
Pairing: Ryan/Colin
Length: 2,133 +/-
How long?
Blame it on Anna Lee Gibson. Or I should say her brothers. We were in the fourth grade, and she was the hottest thing to ever happen to that school. The girls weren’t allowed to wear slacks, and all us guys would hang around during recess whenever Anna was jumping rope. She’d get it moving so fast that her legs were a blur and honest to God, that skirt would rise up like a hot air balloon!
Hmm? Oh. Anna Lee had three brothers in high school – she was a bonus baby, and the brothers Gibson caught wind of the recess peep show. They showed up one day and laid into the group of us. We were supposed to get school pictures done, and my mom had me wearing a tie and a pair of slacks that I hadn’t grown out of yet. Managed to trip on my own pant cuffs and fell flat on my chin. Next thing I knew, I was dangling from the paw of one of the brothers. Unfortunately, he’d picked me up by the collar and I couldn’t breathe. He kept winding it tighter in his fist and watching me.
At first, I was scared to death – think I even pissed myself at that point. Here he was holding me up like a kitten… no, a bug. I was just an insect that he was going to get rid of. I couldn’t look away; there was no place to look except for his eyes. Even when I started seeing stars, even when the world was turning black I could still see him studying me.
I don’t know who finally got him to let go. I dropped to the playground like a sack of dirty laundry. That first gasp of air hurt so bad I wanted to die, but then? WHAM! Suddenly everything was in glorious Technicolor instead of black and white. Just like The Wizard of Oz. Everything was so much brighter, sweeter, and more… well, MORE!
Why did I keep doing it? Control, mostly. In a world where nothing much makes sense, and you can’t control much of anything, I found something I could control. I could decide how far to go, how hard, how much to push. And afterward, when yourself realize that you’re still breathing? Indescribable. The endorphins take over and it’s like going on the highest, fastest, scariest goddamn roller coaster that you could ever imagine. The biggest high you ever got on any substance, but without the annoyance of a hangover, jail sentence, or a STD. I mean, it’s flying without wings!
And yeah, it also provides an inexpensive cure for depression. Huh? What did I have to be depressed about?
Ok. I’m not sure that I can explain this so anyone’d understand – But depression doesn’t always happen for a reason. It’s a gray scrim that covers everything and makes everything seem lifeless. Maybe it’s a defect in the way a brain gets hot-wired before birth. Maybe it’s an accumulation of all the negative things that anyone ever said, did, or wrote about you. If ‘THEY’ keep saying something about you it has to be true, right?
Uh huh… I had everything all figured out, kept the things I needed in the bottom of my toiletry kit I use on the road: Silk scarf to tease myself with before wrapping it around my neck to keep from bruising. You know the commercial, ‘The touch, the feel of cotton’? Give me the feel of silk anytime. It’s the closest thing to skin without involving another body. Well… the rope was cotton, anyway – gentler than hemp or nylon. I even keep a couple of small clothes pins in there, too. That way I can always say I wash out stuff when I need to.
Hmm? Well, I have used the rope for that purpose before – haven’t you ever spilled something on a tie or your shirt and needed to get it clean right away?
No, I never needed to use porn to get in the mood. I just closed my eyes and ran naked through my own psyche – there are things in there that would shock most people! Besides, how would I explain that to anyone who looked through my bags? Give the gossip rags something to chew on? That’s something they’ve never been able to do before, and I’m sure as hell not going to give them anything now.
How about a light, huh? I’ve been dying for a cigarette! Uh… maybe that wasn’t the right choice of words.
You want to know what I do? Why? There’s something definitely twisted about putting all this into words! Don’t know how good the description is going to be…
Close your eyes… It makes it easier to find the words if you’re not looking at me. Yeah… let them close… I can see your thoughts racing across your face, you know. Ok. It’s almost always late in the day. That way there’s less chance of interruptions. I go up to the hotel room… back to the trailer… wherever. Turn off the lights, except for the little night light that’s also in my bag. Mr. Boy Scout strikes again! Besides, I can use it in the hotel rooms so I don’t end up killing myself in the middle of the night trying to find the john. I put a drop of aftershave on the bulb and turn it on. As it heats up, the smell intensifies. It’s almost like having another person in there. I lay everything out neatly and take a hot shower. All clean and loose, ultra-relaxed and comfortable.
Mmm… Out of the shower, I towel dry oh-so-slowly. My eyes are shut, the scent of the aftershave wraps around me like a pair of arms. By the time I’m dry, some parts are starting to get wet… if you know what I mean… Lay out a dry towel on the rug. Pull first the rope and then the scarf out of the bag. The rope goes over the top of the door, and the closing of the door holds the rope in place. Tie a noose with a safety hitch in the other end, and then forget about it for a while. It’s within reach, but I’m not ready. Not yet.
I can do all this in the dark, blindfolded. Everything is in reach, in readiness. With my eyes closed I can pretend someone else is there… or even a whole harem full of someones. The scarf… Mmm… Dragging it lightly over my skin, I can imagine it’s a tongue, lots of tongues licking at me. Yeah… tongues and fingers… It touches my cheek and my mouth turns just like a baby searching for a breast. Can’t stop now… don’t want to stop…
The smell of the room: aftershave, sex, and raging hormones… The whisper of silk, like whispering voices in a darkened room… Oh, yessss… I can hear the whispers… Mmmm… yeah, that’s so good… God, I get hard as a rock just thinking about it! I wrap the scarf around Mr. Tricky… riding higher and higher while pumping into that soft, smooth… yessss… So close… so very close… take the scarf and wrap it around my neck like a World War I flying ace. Dashing, and practical – it keeps me from bruising.
Hmm? Well, you never noticed any bruises, did you? God knows you’ve seen me from every angle… Shhhh… don’t want to ruin the mood… Close your eyes again… I rise up on my knees, stretching upward as I draw the noose over my head. By now, my heart is pounding. Check the position of the knot and the panic catch… I may be kinky but I’m not an idiot.
It might be my imagination, but the scent of the aftershave seems to be coming closer. I can almost feel the presence of someone else… The scarf smells like sex and my cock is so hard it hurts. One last check of the rigging, fingers running over the rope, the catch, the scarf… It’s time. I let myself fall back, slumping down as I slide down the door.
The noose tightens – how fast? Sometimes I want it fast, a hard knock to the psyche to clear my mind. But, ooh, it’s so much nicer to slowly sink down! The rope tightens slowly, and then… at first it’s just a little harder to swallow, like when you’ve got a sore throat. It tightens more… and it gets harder to breathe. By now the animal part of the brain is screaming – and it takes all that I have to keep from pulling the release. Instead, I pull on something else.
That’s it… mmm… stroke in time with the beating of my heart. As it gets harder to breathe I stroke harder… faster… Behind my eyelids I can see my very own fireworks show. And I tell myself that it’s not my hand that’s touching me… Hang on… hold off… don’t cum yet… wait… wait… feel the noose tighten further… no fireworks now, just a swirling grayness that threatens to wipe out the universe. Can’t breathe… don’t want to breathe… blood pounding… every nerve throbbing… How far can I push it? How far do I want to go? You think I took it too far?
I’ve never tried to go all the way before. I never meant for you to see me that way, you know. That’s why the door was locked. No one ever comes by that late at night, so I figured I was home free. I didn’t know the curtain was slightly open… didn’t know that you’d look in…
I’m sorry I scared you.
No, I can’t guarantee that it won’t happen again…
Do me a favor? Untie my wrists? Please? I promise I’ll be good…
What, nurse? No, I’m not going to be any trouble… No, this isn’t my brother; he’s much more than that. And it’s just the two of us tonight.
He’s just hanging around, aren’t you Col?
Pairing: Ryan/Colin
Length: 2,133 +/-
How long?
Blame it on Anna Lee Gibson. Or I should say her brothers. We were in the fourth grade, and she was the hottest thing to ever happen to that school. The girls weren’t allowed to wear slacks, and all us guys would hang around during recess whenever Anna was jumping rope. She’d get it moving so fast that her legs were a blur and honest to God, that skirt would rise up like a hot air balloon!
Hmm? Oh. Anna Lee had three brothers in high school – she was a bonus baby, and the brothers Gibson caught wind of the recess peep show. They showed up one day and laid into the group of us. We were supposed to get school pictures done, and my mom had me wearing a tie and a pair of slacks that I hadn’t grown out of yet. Managed to trip on my own pant cuffs and fell flat on my chin. Next thing I knew, I was dangling from the paw of one of the brothers. Unfortunately, he’d picked me up by the collar and I couldn’t breathe. He kept winding it tighter in his fist and watching me.
At first, I was scared to death – think I even pissed myself at that point. Here he was holding me up like a kitten… no, a bug. I was just an insect that he was going to get rid of. I couldn’t look away; there was no place to look except for his eyes. Even when I started seeing stars, even when the world was turning black I could still see him studying me.
I don’t know who finally got him to let go. I dropped to the playground like a sack of dirty laundry. That first gasp of air hurt so bad I wanted to die, but then? WHAM! Suddenly everything was in glorious Technicolor instead of black and white. Just like The Wizard of Oz. Everything was so much brighter, sweeter, and more… well, MORE!
Why did I keep doing it? Control, mostly. In a world where nothing much makes sense, and you can’t control much of anything, I found something I could control. I could decide how far to go, how hard, how much to push. And afterward, when yourself realize that you’re still breathing? Indescribable. The endorphins take over and it’s like going on the highest, fastest, scariest goddamn roller coaster that you could ever imagine. The biggest high you ever got on any substance, but without the annoyance of a hangover, jail sentence, or a STD. I mean, it’s flying without wings!
And yeah, it also provides an inexpensive cure for depression. Huh? What did I have to be depressed about?
Ok. I’m not sure that I can explain this so anyone’d understand – But depression doesn’t always happen for a reason. It’s a gray scrim that covers everything and makes everything seem lifeless. Maybe it’s a defect in the way a brain gets hot-wired before birth. Maybe it’s an accumulation of all the negative things that anyone ever said, did, or wrote about you. If ‘THEY’ keep saying something about you it has to be true, right?
Uh huh… I had everything all figured out, kept the things I needed in the bottom of my toiletry kit I use on the road: Silk scarf to tease myself with before wrapping it around my neck to keep from bruising. You know the commercial, ‘The touch, the feel of cotton’? Give me the feel of silk anytime. It’s the closest thing to skin without involving another body. Well… the rope was cotton, anyway – gentler than hemp or nylon. I even keep a couple of small clothes pins in there, too. That way I can always say I wash out stuff when I need to.
Hmm? Well, I have used the rope for that purpose before – haven’t you ever spilled something on a tie or your shirt and needed to get it clean right away?
No, I never needed to use porn to get in the mood. I just closed my eyes and ran naked through my own psyche – there are things in there that would shock most people! Besides, how would I explain that to anyone who looked through my bags? Give the gossip rags something to chew on? That’s something they’ve never been able to do before, and I’m sure as hell not going to give them anything now.
How about a light, huh? I’ve been dying for a cigarette! Uh… maybe that wasn’t the right choice of words.
You want to know what I do? Why? There’s something definitely twisted about putting all this into words! Don’t know how good the description is going to be…
Close your eyes… It makes it easier to find the words if you’re not looking at me. Yeah… let them close… I can see your thoughts racing across your face, you know. Ok. It’s almost always late in the day. That way there’s less chance of interruptions. I go up to the hotel room… back to the trailer… wherever. Turn off the lights, except for the little night light that’s also in my bag. Mr. Boy Scout strikes again! Besides, I can use it in the hotel rooms so I don’t end up killing myself in the middle of the night trying to find the john. I put a drop of aftershave on the bulb and turn it on. As it heats up, the smell intensifies. It’s almost like having another person in there. I lay everything out neatly and take a hot shower. All clean and loose, ultra-relaxed and comfortable.
Mmm… Out of the shower, I towel dry oh-so-slowly. My eyes are shut, the scent of the aftershave wraps around me like a pair of arms. By the time I’m dry, some parts are starting to get wet… if you know what I mean… Lay out a dry towel on the rug. Pull first the rope and then the scarf out of the bag. The rope goes over the top of the door, and the closing of the door holds the rope in place. Tie a noose with a safety hitch in the other end, and then forget about it for a while. It’s within reach, but I’m not ready. Not yet.
I can do all this in the dark, blindfolded. Everything is in reach, in readiness. With my eyes closed I can pretend someone else is there… or even a whole harem full of someones. The scarf… Mmm… Dragging it lightly over my skin, I can imagine it’s a tongue, lots of tongues licking at me. Yeah… tongues and fingers… It touches my cheek and my mouth turns just like a baby searching for a breast. Can’t stop now… don’t want to stop…
The smell of the room: aftershave, sex, and raging hormones… The whisper of silk, like whispering voices in a darkened room… Oh, yessss… I can hear the whispers… Mmmm… yeah, that’s so good… God, I get hard as a rock just thinking about it! I wrap the scarf around Mr. Tricky… riding higher and higher while pumping into that soft, smooth… yessss… So close… so very close… take the scarf and wrap it around my neck like a World War I flying ace. Dashing, and practical – it keeps me from bruising.
Hmm? Well, you never noticed any bruises, did you? God knows you’ve seen me from every angle… Shhhh… don’t want to ruin the mood… Close your eyes again… I rise up on my knees, stretching upward as I draw the noose over my head. By now, my heart is pounding. Check the position of the knot and the panic catch… I may be kinky but I’m not an idiot.
It might be my imagination, but the scent of the aftershave seems to be coming closer. I can almost feel the presence of someone else… The scarf smells like sex and my cock is so hard it hurts. One last check of the rigging, fingers running over the rope, the catch, the scarf… It’s time. I let myself fall back, slumping down as I slide down the door.
The noose tightens – how fast? Sometimes I want it fast, a hard knock to the psyche to clear my mind. But, ooh, it’s so much nicer to slowly sink down! The rope tightens slowly, and then… at first it’s just a little harder to swallow, like when you’ve got a sore throat. It tightens more… and it gets harder to breathe. By now the animal part of the brain is screaming – and it takes all that I have to keep from pulling the release. Instead, I pull on something else.
That’s it… mmm… stroke in time with the beating of my heart. As it gets harder to breathe I stroke harder… faster… Behind my eyelids I can see my very own fireworks show. And I tell myself that it’s not my hand that’s touching me… Hang on… hold off… don’t cum yet… wait… wait… feel the noose tighten further… no fireworks now, just a swirling grayness that threatens to wipe out the universe. Can’t breathe… don’t want to breathe… blood pounding… every nerve throbbing… How far can I push it? How far do I want to go? You think I took it too far?
I’ve never tried to go all the way before. I never meant for you to see me that way, you know. That’s why the door was locked. No one ever comes by that late at night, so I figured I was home free. I didn’t know the curtain was slightly open… didn’t know that you’d look in…
I’m sorry I scared you.
No, I can’t guarantee that it won’t happen again…
Do me a favor? Untie my wrists? Please? I promise I’ll be good…
What, nurse? No, I’m not going to be any trouble… No, this isn’t my brother; he’s much more than that. And it’s just the two of us tonight.
He’s just hanging around, aren’t you Col?
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no subject
Date: 2007-03-20 03:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-20 04:01 am (UTC)And I think I need to check out Mr. Dahl...
no subject
Date: 2007-03-20 04:05 am (UTC)Oh, most certainly - terrifying, but marvellously written. The one that I was thinking of in particular is called 'Georgy Porgy' - link here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Georgy_Porgy
no subject
Date: 2007-03-20 03:54 am (UTC)I really liked it. I love the jumbled train of consciousness thing, I love the little details, the immediacy of it. I love slightlyverymessedup!Ryan. It's the kind of fic that makes me want to go back and read it again right away.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-20 04:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-20 04:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-21 01:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-21 01:52 am (UTC)Anyone?
Anyone?
Buehler?
Here comes Mr. Plot Bunnie!!
Date: 2007-03-21 02:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-24 04:52 pm (UTC)