|dusty (dustandroses) wrote in dustyrydersrecs,|
@ 2006-05-28 14:53:00
|Entry tags:||adebisi, alvarez, author: sistersleep/visionofblue, bondage, fandom: oz, het, hurt/comfort, nc17, o'reily, pretty damn good, slash, voyeurism|
Title: Sweet Motherfucking Dreams
Author: Sistersleep (visionofblue)
Genre: Slash, Het, Hurt/Comfort
Pairing/Characters: Simon Adebisi, Ryan O'Reily, Miguel Alvarez (every which way)
Warnings: Bondage, voyeurism
Spoilers: Through Season 2, Episode 1 - The Tip
Notes: I'm not really sure why I haven't rec'd Sistersleep before - I didn't realize I hadn't until just now. So I'll take care of that. This is another one of the Kink and Cliche fic from last year. Her prompt were: something with leather and voyeurism, and she covered them rather well I think. And a few others as well. This takes place during The Tip, when Adebisi is suffering from withdrawl and is restrained in his hospital bed. When Alvarez slips him a pill to ease the pain, his drug-induced dream is fascinating, chilling and totally hot all at the same time.
Trapped on the rickety uncertainty of metal and thin mattress. What had those motherfuckers done to him?
His body bucked up, writhing, without his mind commanding it. He could feel his voice, vibrating his throat. Scratchy.
He could feel...fingers at his lips.
Pill on his tongue.
He closed his mouth around it, covetous, even as those fingers stroked his jaw to make him swallow. Good, good, good. He sucked down that pill gratefully. Didn't care what it was. Needed anything.
Pat of hot dry skin to his head came with a voice containing a scratch all its own. "Sweet dreams, motherfucker."
Simon smiled. Yes. Sweet.
Time slipped back away. Dark behind his lids.
The itch faded. The bad scratching of his brain, the clenching strain of uncontrolled muscles...were all swept away on a soft tide of sweet blanketing warmth.
Agony was an unreachable memory, blocked out by the so fucking good ride back in his veins. In his head. Nothing but nice here now.
Where was here?
Hospital ward. Simon could see better now, dim light, sleeping forms. They'd strapped him down...tried to control him.
He tugged experimentally on his wrist. Tight leash, wrapped around his skin. Giving him a few inches and nothing more. Those thick institutional straps bound his wrists. Confining him. It felt good now. Caress of leather. Nice and sturdy.
Everything felt good now. He was...in the clouds again. A toothpaste happy face grin split his mouth.
But he was alone with a bunch of fucking sick sleepers. Confined by yourself wasn't as fun, not when you couldn't reach out.
As thought passed through mind, there it was. Another presence, brought to him by need.
That raspy voice back in an echo reaching his ear.
"Sweet dreams...sweet dreams..."
I rate this fic: Pretty Damn Good