My first fic! YAY! does a stupid little dance that makes the penguins roll their eyes Er, sorry. I just want to let everyone know that my stories are not as stupid as I make myself sound. Just so we've got that clear. :> (That's a penguin. Or it's what I like to tell myself sort of resembles a penguin. Let's call it my signature. Yeah, that works.)
Title: What If…
Author: Penguins Stealing My Sanity
Disclaimer: I no own, you no sue
Summary: What if Vanyel had just given in to Stefen's persistence that night, and hadn't spent the night on the floor…well, at least not alone…
Genre: Romance
Warnings: Sex of the rather graphic variety (which is what I'm best at), and, obviously, slash
Rating: R
What If…on that night when Stefen got invited to Vanyel's rooms, and they both got horribly drunk… What If…Vanyel hadn't rejected Stefen's admirable persistence… What If…you read and reviewed this story… Just a thought.
I noticed a depressing lack of pure VanyelStefen fluff (at least R-rated fluff, which is what I like), so I've decided that I'm going to single-handedly amend that. Well, unless someone else makes some VanyelStefen fluff…than it won't be me single-handedly anymore… Anyway, this is the first of many R-rated fluffy slashy VanyelStefen fics to come from my penguin muses. I sincerely hope you enjoy. )
The first paragraph, which will be italicized, is taken directly from Magic's Price, but I switched it to first-person point of view, Stefen's POV. Everything beyond that…well, my words, not my characters.
- What If… -
:> Penguins Stealing My Sanity :>
The wine was going to my head with a vengeance, making me bolder than I might otherwise have been. So when Vanyel reached blindly for his goblet on the table beside us, I reached for it, too, and our hands closed on the stem at the same time. My hand was atop Vanyel's—and as Vanyel's startled gaze met my own, I tightened my hand on the Herald's.Vanyel stared at me in shock for what felt like an eternity, while my hand remained wrapped tightly around his around the goblet. My brain was buzzing happily from too much wine, and a soft voice at the back of my mind whispered that I was being very, very stupid. I ignored the voice.
Trying to sort out my double-vision, I groped for Vanyel's free hand with my other hand; upon finding the hand, I lifted it to chest-level and laced my fingers through the Herald's. He was now gaping openly at me, but I refused to be deterred. I already had his attention—I just had to direct that attention towards other things. Such as the bed. Or the couch. Or even the floor. Floors really weren't as uncomfortable as some people thought, as long as the carpeting was soft. No one wanted to chafe—
Gods, I am drunk. I'm thinking about carpets when I have Vanyel here…
With that, I stopped thinking and leaned forward to press my mouth to Vanyel's. I thanked any god that might be listening that the Herald didn't pull away. I pulled my hand from the wine goblet and gently ran my palm along the side of his face, down his neck, eventually resting said hand on his shoulder and pulling him a little closer.
But I was worried. He hadn't pulled away, but neither was the Herald making any effort to move closer…
Then, his hands roughly grabbed the sides of my face and he pulled me forward, deepening the kiss to a point where I became downright giddy. His tongue pressed insistently against my lips, and I willing opened my mouth to permit his tongue access. I wrapped my arms tightly around him as our tongues danced.
His mouth tasted like the wine I'd already had too much of, and the taste of the wine in his mouth was far more stimulating than the actual drink.
His hands slid up inside my shirt, his wonderful fingers running lightly over my stomach and chest. He pulled his mouth away long enough to tug my shirt up over my head and throw it aside; taking advantage of the opportunity, I began feverishly untucking his shirt from his breeches (noticing, as I did so, the faint bulge in his breeches, matching the bulge in my own breeches) and pulled his shirt off. I pressed my hands against the pale but warm skin of his chest, feeling the faint patch of hair there tickle my palms. I moved my hands in an unconscious imitation of the patterns he was tracing on my skin, both of us occasionally giving voice to soft moans. I leaned forward, traced a line of kisses up his collarbone, to his neck, ran my tongue slowly over his jugular, nibbled gently on his earlobe, then found my way back to his mouth. He buried his hands in my hair, pulling my face as close to his as was possible, deepening the already-passionate kiss to an almost unbearable level.
"Stefen…" he whispered, slowly pulling his lips away. Hearing that perfect voice, thick with desire, whisper my name as beautiful silver eyes met mine, was enough to send my head spinning joyously, and banished all coherent thought.
Thinking of nothing else I could do, I whispered "Vanyel" with as much passion as I could muster. He grabbed my face and kissed me fiercely, and I couldn't have hoped for a better reaction.
I leaned back slowly, not breaking the kiss, pulling him with me; sensing what I was doing, he wrapped one arm around my shoulders, holding me tightly to him, and braced the other against the floor, lowering me down gently as our tongues continued their mindless battling.
I lifted my hips abruptly, and we both pulled apart, gasping, at the unexpected contact of our as-yet-hidden arousals. Venyel slid down to remedy that situation, straddling my thighs as he struggled to remove my breeches. I could certainly sympathize with his struggle: it was hard enough to remove clothes when your mind was clouded with passion; add drunkenness to that, and it was damn near impossible.
I was pulled startlingly out of my thoughts, gasping then moaning in pleasure, as I lifted my bleary head and dimly perceived one of his beautiful hands wrapped around my revealed erection. I hadn't remembered him getting my breeches all the way off…
Again, coherent thought was banished completely from my mind as his hands began working slowly over me, arousing me more than I already was. I nearly screamed with pleasure when he leaned forward and pressed his lips gently to the top of my erection.
"Oh, gods—Vanyel—"
I saw him smile at my reaction, but his lips didn't move from their resting place—correction: they moved, but not in any way that made my mind clearer. Lips moved down, around, tongue flickering in and out…
"Vanyel," I moaned helplessly, "please—I want you…inside me…"
He lifted his head to look up at me, and my mind began the process of clearing. Then he slipped two of his fingers into his mouth, and my mind began swirling with all sorts of erotic images, then went blissfully blank again as he carefully slid those fingers into my opening, preparing me for him. I writhed wildly, moaning, begging, pleading, doing anything I thought might get him to move faster, but he concentrated single-mindedly on the various ways of making all this less painful for me. No use in telling him I had done this so many times I barely felt the pain now—I couldn't string more than one word together at a time, and the sounds that bubbled up from my throat could hardly be considered words.
And then, at long last, I felt him press against my entrance before he slowly pushed himself into me.
I couldn't hold back a scream this time. My body reacted in every conceivable way, straining, thrashing, bucking, writhing, and a million other things as he worked himself patiently into me… Gods, this was too slow!
I heaved myself up, surprising him, then pushed him over backwards so that I now pressed him to the floor. Immediately, I began working myself quickly, eagerly, over him, sliding smoothly up and down his length, making both of us moan and cry out in pleasure.
We were perfect…our bodies compatible in every way…knowing what the other was going to do and moving to compliment it…our hearts beating in perfect unison…
We came simultaneously and both screamed out our pleasure. Our voices seemed to melt together, becoming one, as the screams drifted up towards the ceiling and beyond…
Heh heh heh. That was fun. I've always wanted to write something like that, but the inspiration just struck now… I considered making the title of this fic "The Ceiling and Beyond" just 'cause that sounds so cool, but the "What If" thing went better with the whole fic…
So, now it's your turn. Review! It makes the penguins feel better about themselves.
:>
