Fiction: Soul Seeking
Jan. 26th, 2013 10:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
clare_dragonflyTitle: Soul Seeking
World: robot rights
Word count: 1,171
Rating: PG
Prompt:![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
rainbowfic Tyrian Purple 18, virgin hunter; Heart Gold 3, Soul meets soul on lover's lips. - Percy Bysshe Shelley
Notes: I think Dylan's going to be okay.
Dylan missed Moira.
He was happy to be home, living in the same house with his mom and one of his sisters. He’d reconnected with some of his friends from high school. He had a good job—okay, a good internship—okay, an internship that would look good on his resume, but he was looking forward to the future.
But he missed the wonderful woman he’d been seeing in college, the brilliant engineer with the mysterious past, the ferocious green eyes and the simply perfect ass. He missed her in several spots in his body and sometimes he felt himself blinking back tears just from thinking of her.
So why he was staring into a half-empty, violently green drink instead of calling her already, he didn’t really know. Maybe just because it didn’t seem right. They’d broken up. They were going different places in their lives. There was an entire country between them right now, for God’s sake.
Besides, she never would tell him about her family, would she? Maybe it was for the best.
He slurped back the rest of the drink and held up his glass. The bartender nodded and was over a moment later with a fresh one. He made to hold out his credit chip, but a warm brown hand slid over his own, blocking it. “That one’ll be on me,” said a light, smooth voice.
The bartender didn’t question; apparently she saw this sort of thing a lot. She scanned the other guy’s credit chip before Dylan could protest. The other guy slid into the stool next to Dylan and ordered a martini; Dylan brooded at him over the rim of his glass. He was utterly beautiful, tall and straight, with lush lips and a tight black T-shirt that showed off his sculpted muscles. Dylan was unmoved. Okay, a little bit moved. “You should understand, I’m just here because I’m trying to get over my ex-girlfriend,” he said.
The other guy grinned, swirling his martini in his glass. “Is it working?”
“No.” Maybe.
“If she’s so great, why aren’t you chasing after her instead of moping about it?”
Dylan shook his head and stared into the acid green liquid instead of at those sinful lips. It sounded even more stupid now that someone else said it out loud. “Wouldn’t work. At least, I don’t think it would. We’re not really right for each other, anyway. I’m an artist and she’s all about business.” It sounded more stupid by the minute. He took a gulp of his drink to shut himself up.
“What kind of art do you do?” asked the man with interest.
Dylan frowned at him. “What do you want?”
“What do you mean?” The other man drew back slightly. Oh, lord, now he was pouting.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make that sound like an accusation.” Dylan shook his head in frustration at himself. “I’m just not used to having guys come up to me in bars and buy me drinks without knowing anything about myself.”
“Really?” The man raised his eyebrows and looked Dylan up and down. “How long have you been single?”
“A few months.”
“Maybe that’s it. We’ve all been waiting until you were single.”
The side of Dylan’s mouth quirked up unwillingly. “Well, that was awfully nice of you, I suppose.”
“Do you hang out in bars often?”
“No, I guess not.”
“That, I’m sure, is a part of it too.”
Now Dylan was grinning in earnest. “You’ve got me there. But it’s still a new experience to me. So…” He sucked a tooth and tried to think of a way to word his question that didn’t sound quite so rude. “What made you come up to me?”
The man sipped his martini. “The way you were glaring into your drink. You looked like you needed a friend.”
“I guess I did.”
“What is that awful-looking concoction called, anyway?”
“Green fairy mojito.” Dylan looked up in sudden inspiration. “I didn’t think it was the hallucinatory kind of absinthe, but that would explain you.”
The man laughed richly. “Oh, I’m flattered! But I really am here. My name is Allan—does that help convince you?”
“Maybe,” said Dylan, but he stuck his hand out anyway. “I’m Dylan.”
They shook hands. “So did you really not come here expecting to meet anyone?” asked Allan.
“No, I just wanted something to drink—and I hate to admit it, but I’m living with my mom, and she would definitely not approve. Why do you ask?” Dylan looked around. It was fairly early in the evening, but people were starting to trickle in; when he’d arrived, there had been only him, the bartender, and a woman in the corner who looked very down on her luck and who was still drinking steadily.
“This is a pretty well-known singles bar. Are you new to the area?”
“No, but I couldn’t legally drink the last time I was here. Huh. That would explain why my friends recommended I check it out.”
Allan grinned. “They were only looking out for your best interest.”
“I guess they were.” They could not possibly have expected him to meet someone like Allan, could they? No, no one could have expected Allan.
“So your friends aren’t with you tonight?”
“No. They all have better jobs than I do.” Dylan sipped at his drink. “Things they actually want to, and have reason to, stay with after five PM.”
“That’s something to be wished for? I like having a job that lets me knock off and do whatever I like.”
Dylan shrugged. “I’m an architect. I thought I’d find a job I loved, that I could pour my heart and soul into. If I were really doing architecture, or anything building-related, I probably would be able to do that, but instead I mostly file paperwork and fetch coffee.”
“But that means your soul is free.” Allan smiled what he had to know was a seductive smile.
“I guess.” Dylan laughed awkwardly. “What about you?”
“This is my soul,” said Allan simply, and leaned forward to kiss Dylan.
For a moment Dylan was really sure that the drink was hallucinogenic, and then he gave himself up to the pleasure of kissing the lips he’d been admiring for so long. Allan was obviously an experienced kisser; he knew just how much pressure was needed for Dylan to give in, without putting on so much that Dylan fell backward off his bar stool, as he felt he was wont to do any moment.
After a time Allan pulled away. Dylan still felt dazzled. He lifted his hand to his lips. “Wow.”
Allan laughed softly. “Have you ever kissed a man before?”
Dylan wrinkled his nose. “Is it that obvious?”
“I like it.” Allan slipped off his bar stool and tugged on Dylan’s hand. “Come on. I’ll make you forget her.”
“Her?” asked Dylan, climbing down off his own stool.
Allan laughed, wrapped Dylan’s arm around his waist, and led him away.
Did you enjoy this story? You can read more stories in this world or see all my fiction posted at Dreamwidth!
World: robot rights
Word count: 1,171
Rating: PG
Prompt:
rainbowfic Tyrian Purple 18, virgin hunter; Heart Gold 3, Soul meets soul on lover's lips. - Percy Bysshe ShelleyNotes: I think Dylan's going to be okay.
Dylan missed Moira.
He was happy to be home, living in the same house with his mom and one of his sisters. He’d reconnected with some of his friends from high school. He had a good job—okay, a good internship—okay, an internship that would look good on his resume, but he was looking forward to the future.
But he missed the wonderful woman he’d been seeing in college, the brilliant engineer with the mysterious past, the ferocious green eyes and the simply perfect ass. He missed her in several spots in his body and sometimes he felt himself blinking back tears just from thinking of her.
So why he was staring into a half-empty, violently green drink instead of calling her already, he didn’t really know. Maybe just because it didn’t seem right. They’d broken up. They were going different places in their lives. There was an entire country between them right now, for God’s sake.
Besides, she never would tell him about her family, would she? Maybe it was for the best.
He slurped back the rest of the drink and held up his glass. The bartender nodded and was over a moment later with a fresh one. He made to hold out his credit chip, but a warm brown hand slid over his own, blocking it. “That one’ll be on me,” said a light, smooth voice.
The bartender didn’t question; apparently she saw this sort of thing a lot. She scanned the other guy’s credit chip before Dylan could protest. The other guy slid into the stool next to Dylan and ordered a martini; Dylan brooded at him over the rim of his glass. He was utterly beautiful, tall and straight, with lush lips and a tight black T-shirt that showed off his sculpted muscles. Dylan was unmoved. Okay, a little bit moved. “You should understand, I’m just here because I’m trying to get over my ex-girlfriend,” he said.
The other guy grinned, swirling his martini in his glass. “Is it working?”
“No.” Maybe.
“If she’s so great, why aren’t you chasing after her instead of moping about it?”
Dylan shook his head and stared into the acid green liquid instead of at those sinful lips. It sounded even more stupid now that someone else said it out loud. “Wouldn’t work. At least, I don’t think it would. We’re not really right for each other, anyway. I’m an artist and she’s all about business.” It sounded more stupid by the minute. He took a gulp of his drink to shut himself up.
“What kind of art do you do?” asked the man with interest.
Dylan frowned at him. “What do you want?”
“What do you mean?” The other man drew back slightly. Oh, lord, now he was pouting.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make that sound like an accusation.” Dylan shook his head in frustration at himself. “I’m just not used to having guys come up to me in bars and buy me drinks without knowing anything about myself.”
“Really?” The man raised his eyebrows and looked Dylan up and down. “How long have you been single?”
“A few months.”
“Maybe that’s it. We’ve all been waiting until you were single.”
The side of Dylan’s mouth quirked up unwillingly. “Well, that was awfully nice of you, I suppose.”
“Do you hang out in bars often?”
“No, I guess not.”
“That, I’m sure, is a part of it too.”
Now Dylan was grinning in earnest. “You’ve got me there. But it’s still a new experience to me. So…” He sucked a tooth and tried to think of a way to word his question that didn’t sound quite so rude. “What made you come up to me?”
The man sipped his martini. “The way you were glaring into your drink. You looked like you needed a friend.”
“I guess I did.”
“What is that awful-looking concoction called, anyway?”
“Green fairy mojito.” Dylan looked up in sudden inspiration. “I didn’t think it was the hallucinatory kind of absinthe, but that would explain you.”
The man laughed richly. “Oh, I’m flattered! But I really am here. My name is Allan—does that help convince you?”
“Maybe,” said Dylan, but he stuck his hand out anyway. “I’m Dylan.”
They shook hands. “So did you really not come here expecting to meet anyone?” asked Allan.
“No, I just wanted something to drink—and I hate to admit it, but I’m living with my mom, and she would definitely not approve. Why do you ask?” Dylan looked around. It was fairly early in the evening, but people were starting to trickle in; when he’d arrived, there had been only him, the bartender, and a woman in the corner who looked very down on her luck and who was still drinking steadily.
“This is a pretty well-known singles bar. Are you new to the area?”
“No, but I couldn’t legally drink the last time I was here. Huh. That would explain why my friends recommended I check it out.”
Allan grinned. “They were only looking out for your best interest.”
“I guess they were.” They could not possibly have expected him to meet someone like Allan, could they? No, no one could have expected Allan.
“So your friends aren’t with you tonight?”
“No. They all have better jobs than I do.” Dylan sipped at his drink. “Things they actually want to, and have reason to, stay with after five PM.”
“That’s something to be wished for? I like having a job that lets me knock off and do whatever I like.”
Dylan shrugged. “I’m an architect. I thought I’d find a job I loved, that I could pour my heart and soul into. If I were really doing architecture, or anything building-related, I probably would be able to do that, but instead I mostly file paperwork and fetch coffee.”
“But that means your soul is free.” Allan smiled what he had to know was a seductive smile.
“I guess.” Dylan laughed awkwardly. “What about you?”
“This is my soul,” said Allan simply, and leaned forward to kiss Dylan.
For a moment Dylan was really sure that the drink was hallucinogenic, and then he gave himself up to the pleasure of kissing the lips he’d been admiring for so long. Allan was obviously an experienced kisser; he knew just how much pressure was needed for Dylan to give in, without putting on so much that Dylan fell backward off his bar stool, as he felt he was wont to do any moment.
After a time Allan pulled away. Dylan still felt dazzled. He lifted his hand to his lips. “Wow.”
Allan laughed softly. “Have you ever kissed a man before?”
Dylan wrinkled his nose. “Is it that obvious?”
“I like it.” Allan slipped off his bar stool and tugged on Dylan’s hand. “Come on. I’ll make you forget her.”
“Her?” asked Dylan, climbing down off his own stool.
Allan laughed, wrapped Dylan’s arm around his waist, and led him away.
Did you enjoy this story? You can read more stories in this world or see all my fiction posted at Dreamwidth!