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Leave an anon prompt in the comments
Answer an anon prompt in the comments

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Have fun!


1. "Good for the Goose, Good for the Gander", Kate/Ollie - hair removal

3. "(Dis)assemble" - Guy

4. "Three Blind Mice", J'onn + Ollie + Guy - threesome

6. "The Weft and the Warp", Damian - fantasy

7. "Sun Sun Twenty-One", Ollie/Steph - cunnilingus

8. "In Vino Veritas", Kyle + Dick
drinking contest, Kyle/Dick

10. Bai in a box, all chars


Date: 2013-04-12 06:03 pm (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
"What I can't decide," Kate said, "is if it's only me you want to sleep with, or if it's Ollie, too."

Guy froze, fingers suddenly feeling thick and clumsy clutching the soldering iron and chipsets he was working with. Kate hadn't even paused in scrolling and tapping on her transparent wafer-thin Queen Industries techpad; she was still sitting on the sofa across from him, cool and lovely, nary a change in her voice from its usual let's-be-friendly-but-stay-on-your-own-side modulation. Guy looked down, carefully setting aside his implements.

"If you're going to be making speculations on my deviant personal life," he said, pitching his voice quiet to match hers, "you could at least give it your full attention."

"You're right. I'm sorry, Guy." When he looked up again she had set the techpad aside. She re-crossed her long, smooth, bare legs and smiled, every move contained and coiled, and Guy remembered how much better at this kind of game she was. He had a rein on his own emotions, that was true and necessary, but deep down he -- well, the Other Guy -- was a mass of constant unrestrainable motion, bursting out from all sides like a star going kablooey. Sometimes taking out innocent planets and lifeforms with it, if he was very unlucky.

And Guy Gardner had never been all that lucky.

"Hey." Kate's voice startled him, so close; while he'd been ruminating she'd gotten up and come over, was looking at him with concern. One dark wing of hair fell forward as she leaned in, scrutinizing him, and coming up with the right answer, of course: "It's been three years without an incident, Guy. You're doing well. You're not the same as you were."

None of them were. Five years since Bruce had formed the Avengers Initiative, three years since Guy's fractured mind had turned him into the Red Hulk, sent him to live in isolation in the Rockies for six long, tumultuous months as his psyche shattered and re-formed in bouts of violence that reduced long stretches of forest to splintered scars. Only coming back to New York after Ollie and SHIELD had collaborated on another (newer, better, stronger) containment pod for him, after Clark and Kyle came to fetch him. It had taken their combined strength (plus liberal application of the vibranium shield and sacred Mjolnir) to subdue Red Hulk; it had taken their unshakable faith in Guy to bring him back. It was...not a good time.

Kate put one slim, cool hand on Guy's arm, squeezing, and he stared at her fingers. "Not the same for you either," he said, to say something.

"No," Kate agreed after letting a beat pass, and moved her hand to the magnet reactor embedded in her chest, her fingernails making the tiniest tik sound against it. The unbidden wonder rose in Guy's mind as to whether or not when she was in bed with Ollie, their reactors clanked together, and he stifled a choked laugh at the thought. It wasn't all that funny. But then, being an Avenger seemed to mean you caught your laughs when you could.

(This was something Guy had realized when he'd been avoiding everybody except Diana and Candy, figuring that their ledgers of murderous espionage and misguided mind-control were the most comfortable ones to settle with in the throes of his Red Hulk guilt. Candy made a lot of unflinchingly bitter jokes and Diana laughed at each one, and for a while so did Guy, until it dawned on him that neither woman found the jokes funny. Like most of the group's behaviours, it served as stopgap therapy and a vent for the secret, locked-up suffering that the Widow and Hawkeye carried with them. He stopped laughing at Candy's jokes after that.)

"I wanted to talk to you about something," Kate said suddenly, and Guy frowned as her voice did something he hadn't heard before; it was rushed, harsh, abraded. She was staring intently at him, waiting until their gazes caught and locked before she continued, "It's about when we brought you back, the counselling, pulling your dissociations back together. I want to tell you that you're not the only-"

Ollie burst into the room then, in a shower of words and energy, and Guy was sure that if he squinted just right he'd be able to see sparks coming off him. For as long as Guy had known Ollie, he hadn't entered a room any other way. Which was fine by Guy, really. Easier to not be noticed if somebody else was sucking up all the air and attention and excitement.

Which of course meant Ollie noticed him. "What's going on with this little confab here?" he demanded, eyes bright and a touch glassy as he came over and slung a careless arm around Kate's hips. "Making time with my woman over memories and motherboards?"

Guy watched Ollie lean in to kiss Kate, watched her make the kiss shorter than Ollie wanted, watched her grimly lick her lips after she pulled away. It wasn't hard to understand. Even from the other side of the standalone work counter Guy could smell the expensive aftershave and single-malt scotch clinging to Ollie. Eau de Poor Little Rich Boy, Ollie'd laughingly called it once, even though that wasn't funny then either, blood dripping down Ollie's face to punctuate his words.

"I have to go," Guy said, collecting his work. The sharp corners of the boards and tools dug into his palms but felt good, and Ollie waved him away, attention already turned entirely on Kate and whatever else more important he had to think of. She was saying something to Ollie in an urgent, angry undertone that was still chapped from what she'd been about to say to Guy earlier; Ollie's response, Guy heard just before he opened the doors to let himself out, was no less angry but also unmistakably full of desire. A matching note to Kate's, Guy realized. Maybe their reactors didn't clank when they were in bed. Maybe the eerie light from them fused, melded; maybe when Kate threw her head back and Ollie dragged his mouth up the elegant line of her throat as they moved together, those batteries nested in their chests only provided more fuel, magnetizing them to each other. Maybe they didn't know anymore how to separate the reactors or themselves even when they should.

Maybe Kate was more right than she knew.

Re: (dis)assemble

Date: 2013-04-13 06:34 pm (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)



July 2014


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