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sfa_pornbattle. *grins sheepishly*
Title: Worth the Risk
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Sanctuary
Characters/Pairings: Nigel, Nikola, James, John, Helen. Nigel/Nikola and background John/Helen
Summary: Set 1886, or thereabouts. Early Oxford years. A bored Nikola is a dangerous thing, and a determined one even more so
Wordcount: 1590
Warnings/Notes: for thesfa_pornbattle prompt, 'Dance with me'. Also, I apparently cannot write porn without it becoming something else -_-;
Disclaimer: Not mine
sfa_pornbattle. *grins sheepishly*Title: Worth the Risk
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Sanctuary
Characters/Pairings: Nigel, Nikola, James, John, Helen. Nigel/Nikola and background John/Helen
Summary: Set 1886, or thereabouts. Early Oxford years. A bored Nikola is a dangerous thing, and a determined one even more so
Wordcount: 1590
Warnings/Notes: for the
sfa_pornbattle prompt, 'Dance with me'. Also, I apparently cannot write porn without it becoming something else -_-;Disclaimer: Not mine
Worth the Risk
The phonograph crackled its way through something slow and dreary, the notes and the soft burr of static dropping like dead weights into the silence. John and Helen remained oblivious, caught up in some intimate -though chaste- negotiation on the far couch, but the rest of them ... Well. There was only so much silence a man could take.
Just as Nigel was about to lever himself to his feet and make his excuses, though, someone beat him to it. Nikola, bored to tears and twitching faintly for the past half hour, looked to have finally cracked, springing to his feet with a worrying grin, and that determined, half-crazed look he got sometimes, that never, ever boded well. The man moved, with enviable, jittery grace, to the phonograph, searching out another recording, and Nigel squinted after him warily, exchanging a nervous look with James.
A bored Nikola Tesla was a dangerous, dangerous thing. They'd all had cause to discover that.
Then Nikola turned, not to the room but to Nigel, the phonograph behind skittering into something more powerful, sweeping, and Nikola grinned at him. That daring, challenging grin, riding over nervousness, and Nigel just had time to think 'oh, bugger' to himself before Nikola held out a hand in his direction, and asked:
"Dance with me?"
Even Helen and John looked up, at that, Helen in shock, John for some reason in sudden wariness, sudden warning. James, in the armchair, made some strangled sound, hurriedly cutting himself off.
Nigel, for his part, simply stared. And spluttered, but he rather thought that might be excusable, under the circumstances. His thoughts skittered worriedly. Defying social taboos was one thing, it was quite another to ... to risk ... "Are you mad?" he managed, eventually, looking up into Nikola's defiant, grinning face. Mad, he asked. But not, he couldn't help but wonder, with some shock himself, from disgust. And Nikola's grin only grew.
"No-one here to see but us," the scientist noted cheerfully, waving a hand to encompass the four of them, all staring at him. His voice tilted in defiance, a rich challenge. "Only friends here, yes?"
And Nikola didn't, very deliberately didn't, look at James, and there, suddenly, Nigel had an inkling what this was about. What this was for. Nikola grinned out at them, daring and defiant, and Nigel felt something shift in his chest. Something admiring, and affectionate, and vaguely shamed, and he felt himself stand in response. Felt the gazes of the others swing his way, saw the sudden spark in Nikola's eye, and shook his head, crossing his arms gruffly.
"You're a bloody menace when you're bored," he informed Nikola, growling around a faint smile, because it did have to be said. For the answering grin, the sly, not-in-the-least-ashamed flash of mischief. It had to be said. Then Nigel moved around the table and held out an arm, determinedly unashamed himself. "And I'm leading," he warned, holding up a hand as Nikola moved forward, very pointedly taking the man's position and daring Nikola to disagree with him. There was only so far he was willing to go for Nikola's schemes, after all.
Nikola just grinned at him, slotting himself with casual ease into Nigel's arms, laughing a little when their watch-chains caught against each other, shimmying entirely too close for Nigel's comfort. Or, for that matter, for decency. Nigel distantly heard Helen's muffled gasp, and saw, from the corner of his eye, James' pale, tight face. He paused, then, wondering for a moment if this were more cruelty than kindness.
Then Nikola moved, falling backwards a step, his hand on Nigel's shoulder tugging him along with surprising strength, the pair of them stumbling for a moment before Nigel caught up, and then they were dancing. Sort of. Mostly. Nikola laughed at him, tugging him gently in a circle that more or less matched the crackly demands of the phonograph, eyebrows raised in smug superiority that almost, almost masked the relief in his eyes.
"Leading, are you?" the man teased gently, grinning as he tugged them both around the small space before the fire. Shifting his arm around Nigel's shoulder until he could better pull them both, snickering softly when Nigel glared at him.
"Oh, shut up," Nigel muttered, and tugged Nikola closer in vengeance, smiling a bladed little smile himself as the man's eyebrows shot up. "If you were doing this properly, you'd have waited for me to start."
Nikola's grin went suddenly dangerous, slow and speculative as he looked at Nigel from far too few inches away. "Oh, well if you want to do it properly," he mused, low and wicked, and Nigel suddenly, shockingly, had reason to be glad that what lay between them was masked from view by Nikola's body moving against his. Reason to be glad that their hips were still some inches apart, so far. He blinked, more than a little shocked with himself, and watched Nikola's eyes widen in realisation, watched them flicker downwards in something close to amazement. Nigel stared, realising, rather distantly, that Nikola had never actually expected him to respond. This had, all along, been truly for someone else's benefit.
Oddly enough, Nigel felt a momentary flash of disappointment, at that. And another, more familiar, of grudging admiration.
"James seems to be taking it well," he murmured quietly, low enough that only Nikola would hear, tightening his arm around the man's waist against the stumble of shock. Glancing quickly over Nikola's shoulder, to see that James was, in fact, taking it well. The tight shock had faded from the man's features, the fear of ... mockery, perhaps, or worse, fading away, and there was only the glitter of consideration now, as James watched them move, as he watched them stumble together in more-or-less unison, arms wrapped comfortably around each other. Yes. Now, at least, James seemed to be taking it well.
Nikola huffed, smiling ruefully as his feet caught back up. "Noticed that, did you?" he asked, as quietly, leaning his weight back into Nigel's arm for a moment. He had a neat waist, Nigel noticed absently, feeling Nikola's waistcoat ride up over his arm, tightening his fingers around Nikola's hip and watching his smile flicker in response. Nikola's fingers gripped against Nigel's shoulder, thumb brushing the line of his lapel, a small, strange smile on the man's face.
"I'm not blind, you know," Nigel noted mildly, faint reproach, and then he allowed himself to smile. Allowed, just for a moment, something of his pride and approval show through. "And I agree. A man should know he's safe, among friends." A man should be willing to dare anything, to prove that. A man should be willing to stand with a grin, to defy mockery and disgust, to prove that to a friend. "Though ... you might have been better served to ask James himself to dance?"
Nikola grinned, at that, an odd lightness in his eyes, something deeper underneath the teasing curl of his lip, the seductive drawl of his voice. Something deeper. "But James isn't who I wanted to dance with," he purred, leaning close to Nigel, almost enough to press their cheeks together, ignoring the soft sounds the others made around them. Nikola leaned close, almost enough to kiss, and Nigel let him, wondering at the heat pooling in his belly. At the laziness of it, the odd contentment simply at the nearness of the other man, the silk of his waistcoat under Nigel's fingers, the shifting planes of his back under Nigel's hand. For a moment, Nigel wondered if there were ever truly such a thing as a chaste dance.
Not, he rather suspected, as long as Nikola was involved.
"And how," he asked finally, a grumbled tease belied by the warmth of his hands, the weight of them warm against Nikola's back, tangled in Nikola's own, "did you know I wouldn't say no? Or, for that matter, knock you on your bloody arse."
Nikola pulled back a little, at that. Just enough to look at Nigel, just enough for Nigel to see ... that grin. That dazzling, daring, devil-may-care grin, that said Nikola would do anything, try anything, give anything, just to see if he could. Just to see if it would work. Nikola laughed at him, that bloody grin, and said: "I didn't. But it seemed worth the risk of finding out, don't you think?"
Nigel blinked at him, feeling his feet fall still, Nikola falling back against his arm a little in surprise. He could feel the others staring at them still, silent now, bemused and watchful, and a dance was one thing, a dangerous enough thing, even among friends, but for that, for that grin, for that sentiment, worth the risk of finding out ...
Nigel carefully pulled the hand held in Nikola's, carefully disentangled their fingers while Nikola blinked at him in wary confusion, while Nikola held onto his grin by pure, defiant determination. Nigel pulled his hand free, lifted it slowly, cautiously to Nikola's face. Heard James distantly suck in a breath, ignored it, finding somewhere an almost cheerful grin of his own, a match for the one curled beneath the pad of his thumb. Nigel leaned forward, slowly, carefully, and pressed his lips softly to Nikola's. Pulled the man a dancing step closer, finally brushing hips, and kissed him, slow and dark and as daring as anything John might give Helen, as anything a man might give a woman. Just for that, just for that grin, for that risk, Nigel pulled Nikola close, and kissed him.
Sod the man anyway, what else was there to do?
The phonograph crackled its way through something slow and dreary, the notes and the soft burr of static dropping like dead weights into the silence. John and Helen remained oblivious, caught up in some intimate -though chaste- negotiation on the far couch, but the rest of them ... Well. There was only so much silence a man could take.
Just as Nigel was about to lever himself to his feet and make his excuses, though, someone beat him to it. Nikola, bored to tears and twitching faintly for the past half hour, looked to have finally cracked, springing to his feet with a worrying grin, and that determined, half-crazed look he got sometimes, that never, ever boded well. The man moved, with enviable, jittery grace, to the phonograph, searching out another recording, and Nigel squinted after him warily, exchanging a nervous look with James.
A bored Nikola Tesla was a dangerous, dangerous thing. They'd all had cause to discover that.
Then Nikola turned, not to the room but to Nigel, the phonograph behind skittering into something more powerful, sweeping, and Nikola grinned at him. That daring, challenging grin, riding over nervousness, and Nigel just had time to think 'oh, bugger' to himself before Nikola held out a hand in his direction, and asked:
"Dance with me?"
Even Helen and John looked up, at that, Helen in shock, John for some reason in sudden wariness, sudden warning. James, in the armchair, made some strangled sound, hurriedly cutting himself off.
Nigel, for his part, simply stared. And spluttered, but he rather thought that might be excusable, under the circumstances. His thoughts skittered worriedly. Defying social taboos was one thing, it was quite another to ... to risk ... "Are you mad?" he managed, eventually, looking up into Nikola's defiant, grinning face. Mad, he asked. But not, he couldn't help but wonder, with some shock himself, from disgust. And Nikola's grin only grew.
"No-one here to see but us," the scientist noted cheerfully, waving a hand to encompass the four of them, all staring at him. His voice tilted in defiance, a rich challenge. "Only friends here, yes?"
And Nikola didn't, very deliberately didn't, look at James, and there, suddenly, Nigel had an inkling what this was about. What this was for. Nikola grinned out at them, daring and defiant, and Nigel felt something shift in his chest. Something admiring, and affectionate, and vaguely shamed, and he felt himself stand in response. Felt the gazes of the others swing his way, saw the sudden spark in Nikola's eye, and shook his head, crossing his arms gruffly.
"You're a bloody menace when you're bored," he informed Nikola, growling around a faint smile, because it did have to be said. For the answering grin, the sly, not-in-the-least-ashamed flash of mischief. It had to be said. Then Nigel moved around the table and held out an arm, determinedly unashamed himself. "And I'm leading," he warned, holding up a hand as Nikola moved forward, very pointedly taking the man's position and daring Nikola to disagree with him. There was only so far he was willing to go for Nikola's schemes, after all.
Nikola just grinned at him, slotting himself with casual ease into Nigel's arms, laughing a little when their watch-chains caught against each other, shimmying entirely too close for Nigel's comfort. Or, for that matter, for decency. Nigel distantly heard Helen's muffled gasp, and saw, from the corner of his eye, James' pale, tight face. He paused, then, wondering for a moment if this were more cruelty than kindness.
Then Nikola moved, falling backwards a step, his hand on Nigel's shoulder tugging him along with surprising strength, the pair of them stumbling for a moment before Nigel caught up, and then they were dancing. Sort of. Mostly. Nikola laughed at him, tugging him gently in a circle that more or less matched the crackly demands of the phonograph, eyebrows raised in smug superiority that almost, almost masked the relief in his eyes.
"Leading, are you?" the man teased gently, grinning as he tugged them both around the small space before the fire. Shifting his arm around Nigel's shoulder until he could better pull them both, snickering softly when Nigel glared at him.
"Oh, shut up," Nigel muttered, and tugged Nikola closer in vengeance, smiling a bladed little smile himself as the man's eyebrows shot up. "If you were doing this properly, you'd have waited for me to start."
Nikola's grin went suddenly dangerous, slow and speculative as he looked at Nigel from far too few inches away. "Oh, well if you want to do it properly," he mused, low and wicked, and Nigel suddenly, shockingly, had reason to be glad that what lay between them was masked from view by Nikola's body moving against his. Reason to be glad that their hips were still some inches apart, so far. He blinked, more than a little shocked with himself, and watched Nikola's eyes widen in realisation, watched them flicker downwards in something close to amazement. Nigel stared, realising, rather distantly, that Nikola had never actually expected him to respond. This had, all along, been truly for someone else's benefit.
Oddly enough, Nigel felt a momentary flash of disappointment, at that. And another, more familiar, of grudging admiration.
"James seems to be taking it well," he murmured quietly, low enough that only Nikola would hear, tightening his arm around the man's waist against the stumble of shock. Glancing quickly over Nikola's shoulder, to see that James was, in fact, taking it well. The tight shock had faded from the man's features, the fear of ... mockery, perhaps, or worse, fading away, and there was only the glitter of consideration now, as James watched them move, as he watched them stumble together in more-or-less unison, arms wrapped comfortably around each other. Yes. Now, at least, James seemed to be taking it well.
Nikola huffed, smiling ruefully as his feet caught back up. "Noticed that, did you?" he asked, as quietly, leaning his weight back into Nigel's arm for a moment. He had a neat waist, Nigel noticed absently, feeling Nikola's waistcoat ride up over his arm, tightening his fingers around Nikola's hip and watching his smile flicker in response. Nikola's fingers gripped against Nigel's shoulder, thumb brushing the line of his lapel, a small, strange smile on the man's face.
"I'm not blind, you know," Nigel noted mildly, faint reproach, and then he allowed himself to smile. Allowed, just for a moment, something of his pride and approval show through. "And I agree. A man should know he's safe, among friends." A man should be willing to dare anything, to prove that. A man should be willing to stand with a grin, to defy mockery and disgust, to prove that to a friend. "Though ... you might have been better served to ask James himself to dance?"
Nikola grinned, at that, an odd lightness in his eyes, something deeper underneath the teasing curl of his lip, the seductive drawl of his voice. Something deeper. "But James isn't who I wanted to dance with," he purred, leaning close to Nigel, almost enough to press their cheeks together, ignoring the soft sounds the others made around them. Nikola leaned close, almost enough to kiss, and Nigel let him, wondering at the heat pooling in his belly. At the laziness of it, the odd contentment simply at the nearness of the other man, the silk of his waistcoat under Nigel's fingers, the shifting planes of his back under Nigel's hand. For a moment, Nigel wondered if there were ever truly such a thing as a chaste dance.
Not, he rather suspected, as long as Nikola was involved.
"And how," he asked finally, a grumbled tease belied by the warmth of his hands, the weight of them warm against Nikola's back, tangled in Nikola's own, "did you know I wouldn't say no? Or, for that matter, knock you on your bloody arse."
Nikola pulled back a little, at that. Just enough to look at Nigel, just enough for Nigel to see ... that grin. That dazzling, daring, devil-may-care grin, that said Nikola would do anything, try anything, give anything, just to see if he could. Just to see if it would work. Nikola laughed at him, that bloody grin, and said: "I didn't. But it seemed worth the risk of finding out, don't you think?"
Nigel blinked at him, feeling his feet fall still, Nikola falling back against his arm a little in surprise. He could feel the others staring at them still, silent now, bemused and watchful, and a dance was one thing, a dangerous enough thing, even among friends, but for that, for that grin, for that sentiment, worth the risk of finding out ...
Nigel carefully pulled the hand held in Nikola's, carefully disentangled their fingers while Nikola blinked at him in wary confusion, while Nikola held onto his grin by pure, defiant determination. Nigel pulled his hand free, lifted it slowly, cautiously to Nikola's face. Heard James distantly suck in a breath, ignored it, finding somewhere an almost cheerful grin of his own, a match for the one curled beneath the pad of his thumb. Nigel leaned forward, slowly, carefully, and pressed his lips softly to Nikola's. Pulled the man a dancing step closer, finally brushing hips, and kissed him, slow and dark and as daring as anything John might give Helen, as anything a man might give a woman. Just for that, just for that grin, for that risk, Nigel pulled Nikola close, and kissed him.
Sod the man anyway, what else was there to do?
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