FIC Breaking Boundaries
18/1/11 23:01![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shanachie_quillBreaking Boundaries (Comment Fic), Sanctuary Porn Battle; Will Zimmerman, boundaries
I used to have boundaries. I used to live in a world where no and that isn’t a good idea actually meant something. Then again, I used to live in a world where my best friend wasn’t a HAP and my boss hadn’t been born in the Victorian age—literally. Where I didn’t regularly get my ass kicked by a former bounty hunter—and that was on the days she wasn’t channeling something out of a comic book—where I didn’t need to refer to horror movies or mythology books for information on what they were hunting. Although really I’d like to have a discussion about how the IRS shouldn’t have a right to tell them they spent too much money on medical expenses.
I used to have personal space and consider sexual harassment suits before I leaned against the chairs my co-workers were sitting in or draped myself against another body because I really was just too tired to hold myself up any longer. But then I learned that Henry took offense if I pulled back from casual touches because the young HAP had bonded to the Sanctuary employees as pack members. And the last thing I wanted to do was cause psychological damage on someone who was already struggling with who he was.
But even with all that…I’m lonely. After Clara, after everything, I’m so terrified to let someone inside, that for so long those had been my only touches. And of anyone I know the psychological ramifications of closing myself off from people, but it just seemed like every time I let someone get close…I’m the one who gets hurt. So who could blame me from closing myself off?
So I couldn’t really be blamed if my boundaries fell even more.
I couldn’t really be blamed if I started to notice things.
If I noticed when Kate changed shampoos and stood a little too close until I mentioned something. If she brushed up against me and stood with her hair near my face or within smelling distance until I noticed the change of her scent (and really, why hadn’t Henry noticed that first?). If I noticed the rise of her breast beneath her shirt or the curve of her ass in her skin tight jeans as she leaned over to study whatever we were discussing. It wasn’t completely my fault if my mind sometimes wandered and wondered what it would be like to run my fingers along her jaw line as I whispered against the caramel shell of her ear.
And it wasn’t just the physical things I noticed about Kate. I noticed she seemed more at ease among the residents of the Sanctuary. She didn’t seem constantly poised to run at the first sign of distrust. Her cutting remarks hadn’t changed, but now there was an edge of affection to them, and she made them not to hurt but to tease.
There were days when I wanted to run my fingers down her back, when I wanted to see if her skin was as soft as it looked, when I wanted to pull her to me and nestle my aching cock against her round bottom and ease as many sounds as I could out of her as we both enjoyed ourselves. Days when I had to edge away from her before I brushed up against her and she knew just how much I did enjoy working with her.
And it wasn’t just Kate I noticed things about.
There were days when I found any excuse I could to hang out in Henry’s lab. It wasn’t like I had to work in my office. This was the most easy-going job about working hours and locations that I’d ever had and as long as I kept up with my paperwork (which seemed never ending), it didn’t seem to matter where I did it. Henry made it so easy, providing me with a tablet that I could take anywhere, and it was even easier to carry it down to his lab.
There was a casual strength to the young HAP that I had always noticed (and he is young—although we’re close to the same age—Henry had the sheltered life I never did) even before I knew that he was an Abnormal. Even with all of that, he was careful, I’d never seen him injury anyone except on accident and then he was so contrite that I wanted to comfort him and tell him that everything would be all right. Over the time I had known him, I watched him build up his knowledge of his strength as he came to terms with who and what he was. As his confidence in himself grew, so did his attractiveness and his wardrobe as he slowly shed the layers and loose clothes that disguised the muscles that graced his stocky body. The first time I wandered into his lab to find him clad in a clinging Henley and cargo pants that actually fit, I almost swallowed my tongue. He appeared not to notice, prattling on about something, but it was a good ten minutes before I could contribute intelligently to the conversation and he smirked at me as I almost walked into the wall as I left the room that day.
It wasn’t just the physical with Henry though…just like with Kate; I was just as attracted to the intelligent side of my best friend. His tendency to prattle on about his latest gizmo or tech toy or even something he had found on the internet was just as attractive as the muscles that flexed beneath his clothes as he worked. When the words tumbled out of his mouth almost faster than he seemed to process them, he would get this look in his eyes. Those were the moments when my palms itched and I wondered if maybe it was the hard planes of a man I wanted beneath my hands not the soft curves of a woman.
Then I’d stride by Magnus’s office and she’d be sitting at her desk, her hair down and curling softly against her cheek. Her eyes had actually been the first thing I had noticed (when I’d finally gotten a good look at her after the encounter in the alley and not been scared to death) so dark blue against her pale skin and looking almost too large for her face. I had always been drawn in by dark hair curling around a well-shaped face though and Helen had that ability to draw me in; her light accent making everything sound so much more believable.
And then she focuses on you, brings that entire force of personality to bear, and it makes me wonder what she would be like if someone could make her lose that British control that she prides herself on so damn much. Watching her sometimes as she takes command, as she juggles the details of not only our Sanctuary, but the entire network, I think nothing could be more of a turn-on and I’m grateful I didn’t allow myself to be talked out of the baggy jeans I had become accustomed to.
So I couldn’t really be blamed. I couldn’t be blamed for things. Not when they came to me and took my hands, guiding me to their breasts and asses, speaking to me in soft and encouraging voices as my body arched beneath phantom hands. I couldn’t really be blamed.
Even if it was all in my mind.
I used to have boundaries. I used to live in a world where no and that isn’t a good idea actually meant something. Then again, I used to live in a world where my best friend wasn’t a HAP and my boss hadn’t been born in the Victorian age—literally. Where I didn’t regularly get my ass kicked by a former bounty hunter—and that was on the days she wasn’t channeling something out of a comic book—where I didn’t need to refer to horror movies or mythology books for information on what they were hunting. Although really I’d like to have a discussion about how the IRS shouldn’t have a right to tell them they spent too much money on medical expenses.
I used to have personal space and consider sexual harassment suits before I leaned against the chairs my co-workers were sitting in or draped myself against another body because I really was just too tired to hold myself up any longer. But then I learned that Henry took offense if I pulled back from casual touches because the young HAP had bonded to the Sanctuary employees as pack members. And the last thing I wanted to do was cause psychological damage on someone who was already struggling with who he was.
But even with all that…I’m lonely. After Clara, after everything, I’m so terrified to let someone inside, that for so long those had been my only touches. And of anyone I know the psychological ramifications of closing myself off from people, but it just seemed like every time I let someone get close…I’m the one who gets hurt. So who could blame me from closing myself off?
So I couldn’t really be blamed if my boundaries fell even more.
I couldn’t really be blamed if I started to notice things.
If I noticed when Kate changed shampoos and stood a little too close until I mentioned something. If she brushed up against me and stood with her hair near my face or within smelling distance until I noticed the change of her scent (and really, why hadn’t Henry noticed that first?). If I noticed the rise of her breast beneath her shirt or the curve of her ass in her skin tight jeans as she leaned over to study whatever we were discussing. It wasn’t completely my fault if my mind sometimes wandered and wondered what it would be like to run my fingers along her jaw line as I whispered against the caramel shell of her ear.
And it wasn’t just the physical things I noticed about Kate. I noticed she seemed more at ease among the residents of the Sanctuary. She didn’t seem constantly poised to run at the first sign of distrust. Her cutting remarks hadn’t changed, but now there was an edge of affection to them, and she made them not to hurt but to tease.
There were days when I wanted to run my fingers down her back, when I wanted to see if her skin was as soft as it looked, when I wanted to pull her to me and nestle my aching cock against her round bottom and ease as many sounds as I could out of her as we both enjoyed ourselves. Days when I had to edge away from her before I brushed up against her and she knew just how much I did enjoy working with her.
And it wasn’t just Kate I noticed things about.
There were days when I found any excuse I could to hang out in Henry’s lab. It wasn’t like I had to work in my office. This was the most easy-going job about working hours and locations that I’d ever had and as long as I kept up with my paperwork (which seemed never ending), it didn’t seem to matter where I did it. Henry made it so easy, providing me with a tablet that I could take anywhere, and it was even easier to carry it down to his lab.
There was a casual strength to the young HAP that I had always noticed (and he is young—although we’re close to the same age—Henry had the sheltered life I never did) even before I knew that he was an Abnormal. Even with all of that, he was careful, I’d never seen him injury anyone except on accident and then he was so contrite that I wanted to comfort him and tell him that everything would be all right. Over the time I had known him, I watched him build up his knowledge of his strength as he came to terms with who and what he was. As his confidence in himself grew, so did his attractiveness and his wardrobe as he slowly shed the layers and loose clothes that disguised the muscles that graced his stocky body. The first time I wandered into his lab to find him clad in a clinging Henley and cargo pants that actually fit, I almost swallowed my tongue. He appeared not to notice, prattling on about something, but it was a good ten minutes before I could contribute intelligently to the conversation and he smirked at me as I almost walked into the wall as I left the room that day.
It wasn’t just the physical with Henry though…just like with Kate; I was just as attracted to the intelligent side of my best friend. His tendency to prattle on about his latest gizmo or tech toy or even something he had found on the internet was just as attractive as the muscles that flexed beneath his clothes as he worked. When the words tumbled out of his mouth almost faster than he seemed to process them, he would get this look in his eyes. Those were the moments when my palms itched and I wondered if maybe it was the hard planes of a man I wanted beneath my hands not the soft curves of a woman.
Then I’d stride by Magnus’s office and she’d be sitting at her desk, her hair down and curling softly against her cheek. Her eyes had actually been the first thing I had noticed (when I’d finally gotten a good look at her after the encounter in the alley and not been scared to death) so dark blue against her pale skin and looking almost too large for her face. I had always been drawn in by dark hair curling around a well-shaped face though and Helen had that ability to draw me in; her light accent making everything sound so much more believable.
And then she focuses on you, brings that entire force of personality to bear, and it makes me wonder what she would be like if someone could make her lose that British control that she prides herself on so damn much. Watching her sometimes as she takes command, as she juggles the details of not only our Sanctuary, but the entire network, I think nothing could be more of a turn-on and I’m grateful I didn’t allow myself to be talked out of the baggy jeans I had become accustomed to.
So I couldn’t really be blamed. I couldn’t be blamed for things. Not when they came to me and took my hands, guiding me to their breasts and asses, speaking to me in soft and encouraging voices as my body arched beneath phantom hands. I couldn’t really be blamed.
Even if it was all in my mind.
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(no subject)
30/1/11 00:49 (UTC):D
I dunno, It might be fun to see your reaction to the Pants!thing in its entirety. XD Awesome! I eagerly await the cuddles!
(no subject)
30/1/11 01:10 (UTC)Can I please beat up on them? They will not get into bed!
*pouts* So mean to me...but okay...I'll live...I guess.