(no subject)

[turps]

trumpeterofdoom this is for you, even though you call me a meanie-head. Just a sort of double and a half drabble to show I do talk about AJ. You owe me a trickc ficbit now I think ;)



AJ is steel over liquid, harsh lines inked into soft skin, a life-story in ink that creeps across his body with time. Cigarette held between black tipped fingers, jewellery glinting cold in the dim lights, he prowls the room as if looking for prey.

Constantly moving, he slips past hands that reach for him, twisting and weaving with a dance that clearly says keep away. Then stands on the balcony, pressed against the railings, high above the writhing mass of dancers below and watches; body motionless and poised to strike.

Within seconds, his target is in sight. A riot of colour and sweat damp hair as he dances in the crowd. Head back and laughing as the lights flare and bathe him in gold. AJ takes a long drag on his cigarette then drops it to the sticky floor, grinding it under his heel. It’s time.

Bodies move against him when he reaches the dance-floor, pulling him in with greedy hands that he ignores. Wiping away sweat with an impatient swipe of his arm he gets closer, intent on nothing but his prey.

Closer still he reaches out a hand, black nails against white cotton, feeling the heat against his palm, then pounces, wrapping his arms around a sweat-damp body and pulling close.

JC laughs, unsurprised, and turns in his embrace until they’re chest to chest, kissing with dry lips as they sway. Dancing to their own beat, silky movements and loving touches as AJ celebrates catching his man yet again.

Comments

[turloughishere.livejournal.com]

Lovely descriptive language! Wonderful snapshot-view of AJ.

[turps33.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much :)