Strokes ficbit
Sep. 30th, 2005 03:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tarotgalJust thought I'd share. I wrote this while on the plane(s) home from Iowa. I'd been wanting to write it for a month or two and there's nothing like being stuck in a plane to be get writing done :-) I worked a little on 'Fatherhood' (starring Olly) and 'Alone'(more Marty and Coyote) also in the series, too. I love these boys muchly.
Anyhoo... on to the first part of the story. I haven't written the second part, but here we are anyway:
Title: AIDS Walk
Author: me, of course
Rating: G? PG?
Takes Place: sometime after 'Moving' and before 'Camp'
Notes: This is unfinished, not really edited, and doesn't contain any sneezing at the moment. I actually don't have plans to include any in the future, either.
AIDS Walk
Part of my 'Strokes' Series
Jamie finished in the bathroom but found the bedroom just as empty as when he'd gone to shower and clean up. He made his way down the hall and stairs and into the kitchen. His nostrils twitched to the scent of baking and he smiled, knowing there was nothing wrong with his boyfriend.
He found the man hunched over the table, a dry-erase marker in hand and a whiteboard lying on the table in front of him. Sweetie didn't flinch as Jamie put hands on his shoulders and began to massage. "Come to bed with me, Dom, Sweetie."
"Jamie," the man sighed, looking up and back with a smile. But instead of addressing the request, "Hand me that yardstick over there, would you?"
It was Jamie's turn to sigh, but he handed over the yardstick anyway. Then he helped himself to a warm cookie from the platter on the table even though he'd technically already brushed his teeth. He sat down next to sweetie at the table, cupping a hand under the cookie to catch any crumbs before they hit the clean table. "Don't you have a computer program that does this?" he asked, inspecting Sweetie's handiwork.
Busy drawing columns down the whiteboard against the yardstick, it took him a few extra moments to answer. "Sure I do, but I like the feeling of doing it by hand, too. Feels more personal, and people like adding their own totals." He filled the names of those people across the top of the board, then held it up. "How does it look?"
"Looks great," Jamie said, his eyes immediately focusing on his own name, right beside Sweetie's.
Sweetie clearly saw him looking there. "You're my boyfriend, so you get high billing," he laughed. "No, really, I'm sick of alphabetical order and I can't order by seniority, what with Yo moving in and out all the time. So I listed us by rooms in the house, left-to-right."
Jamie sat back, polishing off a second cookie, and looked over the whole thing now. Every name had its own column, with space for amounts to be written below. At the bottom there were boxes for each total and for the ranks. And at the very bottom there was still space for the total. Right now everything was at zero, but Jamie was certain it would not stay that way for very long.
"It looks great," said Jamie. "But I still don't think we have much hope of beating Nik's team."
For as far back as there had been a mansion and a club, Sweetie and Nik had led opposing teams in a competition between the two to raise the most funds for the Washington DC AIDS Walk. This year, Sweetie led the mansion team, though they traded off every year and both teams walked together in order to socialize. The mansion residents, minus Nik, seemed to pale in comparison with the club's staff which was nearly triple their size.
"The fun is in the trying. Besides, there's prizes for everyone as well as the top winners of both teams. And the club's fundraising benefit doesn't count for the staff's team. So we actually stand a fighting chance!" He stood and hung the board on the wall facing the table where it could be seen by all.
Then he slipped on a mit and took the last batch of cookies out of the oven. He flipped the dial back to off, then began to spatula them out onto the brown bag he had spread out over one counter where they could cool. Jamie knew how Sweetie liked to cook when he was worried, but Sweetie didn't exactly look worried just now. On the contrary, he looked excited. "I wanted to have some cookies to celebrate the kick off of the competition."
"Everyone will love them," Jamie assured him. "Everyone will love the chart. And everyone will work hard to raise money. I know I already have plans."
Sweetie smiled. "Oh yeah? Because I've got plans, too." With a mischievous look in his eyes, he leapt over and caught Jamie in a hug. After a few whispers with chocolate chip and macadamia nut cookie breath, Jamie was quite convinced, as though he really needed convincing.
*
"All right troopsth!" Nik paced back and forth in front of the line-up during the staff meeting. His normal attire had made way for a white wife-beater, tight beige jodhpurs, and black knee-high boots. A beret sat askew on his head and beneath it his eyes showed seriousness. "We will raisthe more money and have more fun. We will earn bragging rightsth and the annual trophy will be oursth for the third year in a row. We WILL beat the mansthion team thisth year!" He smacked the riding crop he carried against his leg at each sentence for effect, and ended with one hard smack against his palm.
Turbo eyed him pleadingly and playfully, then turned to show Nik his rear. Nik gave it a good hard swat. Turbo purred. "Thank you, Sir, may I have another?" He got one right across his cheeks through the black jeans with the crop. He purred again and turned back around obediently.
Nik continued to pace, though he stopped when passing the middle of the display case and gazed up at the large trophy and the even larger plaque behind which held the name and dollar amount raised for each year. It was an inspiring sight, and he didn't much like the idea of toting them home again.
"Now, I want you all to keep in mind that asth employeesth you've all agreed to particthipate in the walk, but I can't forcthe you to raisthe money. Anyone who doesth, however, will be matched by the club and will help a very worthy causthe. Every little bit helpsth, stho I want you all to give and asthk othersth who can to do the sthame. We've got to take care of our own, right?" He smacked the crop against his hand again.
"Right!' They answered in unison.
"And, asth alwaysth, there'll be an after-party here for everyone, prizesth for all, and one bit sthomething for whoever raitheth the mostht. Stho… any questhtionsth?"
There were lots of headshakes, but Turbo raised his hand. "I could go for another spanking, actually. To kick off the event." He grinned. "Unless you baked cookies for us all, that is."
Nik laughed, then obliged. He only laughed more as the rest of the line-up turned around as well. Then he proceeded to go down the line, dishing out playful spankings to every turned cheek. "Meeting adjourned!"
*
Sweetie felt a hand on his shoulder and recognized the touch at once. "The mansion might actually pull off a win this year," he said, glancing back over his shoulder at Nik.
They stood side-by-side in the first floor recreation room, staring at the large screen television which was artfully connected to the computer beside it. It displayed a computer program Sweetie had put together, comparing and scrolling through up-to-the-second donation statistics of everyone on both teams. At the moment, the mansion was only trailing by a little less than three hundred.
Sweetie grinned as his name and currently rather high total appeared on the screen. "I got a money wire from Trip this morning for two hundred and fifty. Nice of him to remember us even though he's halfway across the world."
"Very nicthe indeed. Whichever team winsth, thisth isth already our bestht year yet," said Nik.
"That's the truth," Sweetie agreed, nodding. "But we've still got plenty in the mansion fund and the wrap-up party's already paid for. So we're in excellent shape financially." He grinned and leaned to the side to kiss Nik's cheek. "I still think you should kiss that trophy goodbye now."
"You underesthtimate the power of the club'sth sthtaff. They're sthtronger than ever thisth year and one damn good looking bunch."
"Nik!" Sweetie laughed, hitting his arm.
"No hitting on the sthtaff, I know." He grinned. "At leastht, not that way."
Sweetie wasn't sure he wanted to know what that meant. "I'm glad we do this. It's really my favorite time of the year."
"Mine, too." Nik kissed Sweetie's cheek. "And there'sth no one I'd rather sthpend it with or compete againstht."
A few moment of silence passed as they stood and watched the totals scroll by. Then the number beside Jamie's name increased by $200. Sweetie chuckled. "Oh, I am SO going to enjoy my win."
"You sthure you didn't asthk the boy to move in with you justht becausthe he'sth got hockey teammatesth with high paychecksth?"
Sweetie bit his lip, grinning and chuckling but shaking his head.
:-)
Anyhoo... on to the first part of the story. I haven't written the second part, but here we are anyway:
Title: AIDS Walk
Author: me, of course
Rating: G? PG?
Takes Place: sometime after 'Moving' and before 'Camp'
Notes: This is unfinished, not really edited, and doesn't contain any sneezing at the moment. I actually don't have plans to include any in the future, either.
Part of my 'Strokes' Series
Jamie finished in the bathroom but found the bedroom just as empty as when he'd gone to shower and clean up. He made his way down the hall and stairs and into the kitchen. His nostrils twitched to the scent of baking and he smiled, knowing there was nothing wrong with his boyfriend.
He found the man hunched over the table, a dry-erase marker in hand and a whiteboard lying on the table in front of him. Sweetie didn't flinch as Jamie put hands on his shoulders and began to massage. "Come to bed with me, Dom, Sweetie."
"Jamie," the man sighed, looking up and back with a smile. But instead of addressing the request, "Hand me that yardstick over there, would you?"
It was Jamie's turn to sigh, but he handed over the yardstick anyway. Then he helped himself to a warm cookie from the platter on the table even though he'd technically already brushed his teeth. He sat down next to sweetie at the table, cupping a hand under the cookie to catch any crumbs before they hit the clean table. "Don't you have a computer program that does this?" he asked, inspecting Sweetie's handiwork.
Busy drawing columns down the whiteboard against the yardstick, it took him a few extra moments to answer. "Sure I do, but I like the feeling of doing it by hand, too. Feels more personal, and people like adding their own totals." He filled the names of those people across the top of the board, then held it up. "How does it look?"
"Looks great," Jamie said, his eyes immediately focusing on his own name, right beside Sweetie's.
Sweetie clearly saw him looking there. "You're my boyfriend, so you get high billing," he laughed. "No, really, I'm sick of alphabetical order and I can't order by seniority, what with Yo moving in and out all the time. So I listed us by rooms in the house, left-to-right."
Jamie sat back, polishing off a second cookie, and looked over the whole thing now. Every name had its own column, with space for amounts to be written below. At the bottom there were boxes for each total and for the ranks. And at the very bottom there was still space for the total. Right now everything was at zero, but Jamie was certain it would not stay that way for very long.
"It looks great," said Jamie. "But I still don't think we have much hope of beating Nik's team."
For as far back as there had been a mansion and a club, Sweetie and Nik had led opposing teams in a competition between the two to raise the most funds for the Washington DC AIDS Walk. This year, Sweetie led the mansion team, though they traded off every year and both teams walked together in order to socialize. The mansion residents, minus Nik, seemed to pale in comparison with the club's staff which was nearly triple their size.
"The fun is in the trying. Besides, there's prizes for everyone as well as the top winners of both teams. And the club's fundraising benefit doesn't count for the staff's team. So we actually stand a fighting chance!" He stood and hung the board on the wall facing the table where it could be seen by all.
Then he slipped on a mit and took the last batch of cookies out of the oven. He flipped the dial back to off, then began to spatula them out onto the brown bag he had spread out over one counter where they could cool. Jamie knew how Sweetie liked to cook when he was worried, but Sweetie didn't exactly look worried just now. On the contrary, he looked excited. "I wanted to have some cookies to celebrate the kick off of the competition."
"Everyone will love them," Jamie assured him. "Everyone will love the chart. And everyone will work hard to raise money. I know I already have plans."
Sweetie smiled. "Oh yeah? Because I've got plans, too." With a mischievous look in his eyes, he leapt over and caught Jamie in a hug. After a few whispers with chocolate chip and macadamia nut cookie breath, Jamie was quite convinced, as though he really needed convincing.
"All right troopsth!" Nik paced back and forth in front of the line-up during the staff meeting. His normal attire had made way for a white wife-beater, tight beige jodhpurs, and black knee-high boots. A beret sat askew on his head and beneath it his eyes showed seriousness. "We will raisthe more money and have more fun. We will earn bragging rightsth and the annual trophy will be oursth for the third year in a row. We WILL beat the mansthion team thisth year!" He smacked the riding crop he carried against his leg at each sentence for effect, and ended with one hard smack against his palm.
Turbo eyed him pleadingly and playfully, then turned to show Nik his rear. Nik gave it a good hard swat. Turbo purred. "Thank you, Sir, may I have another?" He got one right across his cheeks through the black jeans with the crop. He purred again and turned back around obediently.
Nik continued to pace, though he stopped when passing the middle of the display case and gazed up at the large trophy and the even larger plaque behind which held the name and dollar amount raised for each year. It was an inspiring sight, and he didn't much like the idea of toting them home again.
"Now, I want you all to keep in mind that asth employeesth you've all agreed to particthipate in the walk, but I can't forcthe you to raisthe money. Anyone who doesth, however, will be matched by the club and will help a very worthy causthe. Every little bit helpsth, stho I want you all to give and asthk othersth who can to do the sthame. We've got to take care of our own, right?" He smacked the crop against his hand again.
"Right!' They answered in unison.
"And, asth alwaysth, there'll be an after-party here for everyone, prizesth for all, and one bit sthomething for whoever raitheth the mostht. Stho… any questhtionsth?"
There were lots of headshakes, but Turbo raised his hand. "I could go for another spanking, actually. To kick off the event." He grinned. "Unless you baked cookies for us all, that is."
Nik laughed, then obliged. He only laughed more as the rest of the line-up turned around as well. Then he proceeded to go down the line, dishing out playful spankings to every turned cheek. "Meeting adjourned!"
Sweetie felt a hand on his shoulder and recognized the touch at once. "The mansion might actually pull off a win this year," he said, glancing back over his shoulder at Nik.
They stood side-by-side in the first floor recreation room, staring at the large screen television which was artfully connected to the computer beside it. It displayed a computer program Sweetie had put together, comparing and scrolling through up-to-the-second donation statistics of everyone on both teams. At the moment, the mansion was only trailing by a little less than three hundred.
Sweetie grinned as his name and currently rather high total appeared on the screen. "I got a money wire from Trip this morning for two hundred and fifty. Nice of him to remember us even though he's halfway across the world."
"Very nicthe indeed. Whichever team winsth, thisth isth already our bestht year yet," said Nik.
"That's the truth," Sweetie agreed, nodding. "But we've still got plenty in the mansion fund and the wrap-up party's already paid for. So we're in excellent shape financially." He grinned and leaned to the side to kiss Nik's cheek. "I still think you should kiss that trophy goodbye now."
"You underesthtimate the power of the club'sth sthtaff. They're sthtronger than ever thisth year and one damn good looking bunch."
"Nik!" Sweetie laughed, hitting his arm.
"No hitting on the sthtaff, I know." He grinned. "At leastht, not that way."
Sweetie wasn't sure he wanted to know what that meant. "I'm glad we do this. It's really my favorite time of the year."
"Mine, too." Nik kissed Sweetie's cheek. "And there'sth no one I'd rather sthpend it with or compete againstht."
A few moment of silence passed as they stood and watched the totals scroll by. Then the number beside Jamie's name increased by $200. Sweetie chuckled. "Oh, I am SO going to enjoy my win."
"You sthure you didn't asthk the boy to move in with you justht becausthe he'sth got hockey teammatesth with high paychecksth?"
Sweetie bit his lip, grinning and chuckling but shaking his head.
:-)
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Date: 2005-09-30 10:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-30 10:47 pm (UTC)