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perpetual_motionTitle: The Almost Occurrences
Author: Perpetual Motion
Fandom: News RPS
Pairing: Keith Olbermann/Stephen Colbert
Rating: R
Summary: Thoughts on something that didn't actually happen.
Dis: This whole thing is a total lie, and while it won't get certian people impeached, it could get my ass sued if I didn't admit to the fact.
Author's Notes: Way back in January, during the first dry spell of my fannish writings, I sent out a chance for requests.![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lunaris1013 asked for "Keith/Stephen. Porny." It's not porny, but it's angsty, and I know you like angsty.
The Almost Occurrences
By Perpetual Motion
Keith isn’t quite sure how he got here. Maybe it started after filming, when Stephen invited him to grab a drink. Maybe it started over the next couple of days, when in response to Keith’s praise, Stephen had sent him a half-dozen red roses with a joking note that read, “My hero, even if you are liberal scum.”. Maybe it had started when Tucker saw the roses, raised his eyebrows, and asked if Stephen’s wife knew that he was cheating with Keith.
In truth, it doesn’t matter how it started. It matters that it’s going on, and that no matter how many times Keith tells himself he won’t do it, he still watches the show and gets hard at the sight of Stephen adjusting his glasses, of playing pompous, of practically nudging the audience to get in on the joke. Stephen’s number is in his cell, and Keith tosses the phone between his hands and scrolls through his contacts list more than he should. He wonders what Stephen will sound like when he answers the phone. Will he be surprised? Cordial? Teasing? Will he know why Keith has called and mutter the name of a semi-skeevy hotel?
“The Motel Six off the highway. You know it?” His voice will be low, a whisper, but completely in control.
“I know it.”
“Nine o’clock. Call me with the room number.”
“I will.” And Keith will hang up the phone and pack a bag. Only the essentials; condoms, lube, the traveling case for his glasses, and a fresh pair of underwear. He will comb his hair forward and wear his secondary glasses, hunch his shoulders and try to make his voice sound less recognizable.
The guy at the desk, young and punkish with a chin stud and a sleeve of a tattoo, will barely pay any attention to Keith at all. There will be a porn magazine just under the counter, the majority of one breast peeking up at Keith, a hand with long nails covering the nipple. He’ll notice it as he signs his name in an unreadable scrawl and pays cash for room number nineteen.
“Room nineteen.” His voice will be slightly hoarse, and he’ll clear his throat and tug at the collar of his shirt.
“Give me an hour. Be naked when I get there.” And Stephen will hang up the phone before Keith can say anything else.
So he will get naked and lie on the bed and try to watch something on television. When the knock comes, he will consider pulling on his shorts, but Stephen said naked, and Keith will discover that he can’t say no to that voice.
And it’s just as he’s opening the door, letting in a sliver of light from the parking lot, getting the first glimpse of Stephen’s face, it is right there where the fantasy ends and Keith ends up hard as the credits roll on the Report. Because no matter his fantasy, no matter the way Stephen leaned towards him during their drink, or squeezed his shoulder as they parted, no matter how incredibly erotic the whole, dirty thing plays out in Keith’s head, no matter what, Stephen is still married, and he still has kids, and even Keith’s not that much of an asshole.
So he gets up and gets in the shower and jerks off, hard and fast, to what he imagines Stephen must look like, all thin and pale with a bit of muscle. And the next morning he will see the flowers in his office and toss them away. They’ve been dead for nearly a week.
Author: Perpetual Motion
Fandom: News RPS
Pairing: Keith Olbermann/Stephen Colbert
Rating: R
Summary: Thoughts on something that didn't actually happen.
Dis: This whole thing is a total lie, and while it won't get certian people impeached, it could get my ass sued if I didn't admit to the fact.
Author's Notes: Way back in January, during the first dry spell of my fannish writings, I sent out a chance for requests.
lunaris1013 asked for "Keith/Stephen. Porny." It's not porny, but it's angsty, and I know you like angsty.The Almost Occurrences
By Perpetual Motion
Keith isn’t quite sure how he got here. Maybe it started after filming, when Stephen invited him to grab a drink. Maybe it started over the next couple of days, when in response to Keith’s praise, Stephen had sent him a half-dozen red roses with a joking note that read, “My hero, even if you are liberal scum.”. Maybe it had started when Tucker saw the roses, raised his eyebrows, and asked if Stephen’s wife knew that he was cheating with Keith.
In truth, it doesn’t matter how it started. It matters that it’s going on, and that no matter how many times Keith tells himself he won’t do it, he still watches the show and gets hard at the sight of Stephen adjusting his glasses, of playing pompous, of practically nudging the audience to get in on the joke. Stephen’s number is in his cell, and Keith tosses the phone between his hands and scrolls through his contacts list more than he should. He wonders what Stephen will sound like when he answers the phone. Will he be surprised? Cordial? Teasing? Will he know why Keith has called and mutter the name of a semi-skeevy hotel?
“The Motel Six off the highway. You know it?” His voice will be low, a whisper, but completely in control.
“I know it.”
“Nine o’clock. Call me with the room number.”
“I will.” And Keith will hang up the phone and pack a bag. Only the essentials; condoms, lube, the traveling case for his glasses, and a fresh pair of underwear. He will comb his hair forward and wear his secondary glasses, hunch his shoulders and try to make his voice sound less recognizable.
The guy at the desk, young and punkish with a chin stud and a sleeve of a tattoo, will barely pay any attention to Keith at all. There will be a porn magazine just under the counter, the majority of one breast peeking up at Keith, a hand with long nails covering the nipple. He’ll notice it as he signs his name in an unreadable scrawl and pays cash for room number nineteen.
“Room nineteen.” His voice will be slightly hoarse, and he’ll clear his throat and tug at the collar of his shirt.
“Give me an hour. Be naked when I get there.” And Stephen will hang up the phone before Keith can say anything else.
So he will get naked and lie on the bed and try to watch something on television. When the knock comes, he will consider pulling on his shorts, but Stephen said naked, and Keith will discover that he can’t say no to that voice.
And it’s just as he’s opening the door, letting in a sliver of light from the parking lot, getting the first glimpse of Stephen’s face, it is right there where the fantasy ends and Keith ends up hard as the credits roll on the Report. Because no matter his fantasy, no matter the way Stephen leaned towards him during their drink, or squeezed his shoulder as they parted, no matter how incredibly erotic the whole, dirty thing plays out in Keith’s head, no matter what, Stephen is still married, and he still has kids, and even Keith’s not that much of an asshole.
So he gets up and gets in the shower and jerks off, hard and fast, to what he imagines Stephen must look like, all thin and pale with a bit of muscle. And the next morning he will see the flowers in his office and toss them away. They’ve been dead for nearly a week.
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no subject
on 2006-10-29 11:04 pm (UTC)And I don't know why I ask...I'm not even into this. Just nosy.