/oc/ - Original Creation

Do I have to state the characters, the place it the action is on and the mood?
Write me an serious conversation between two lovers - a pilot and a marine.
They both know it's going to be the pilot's last mission because of the dangers, but the matine has to go to his front and can't do anything because of orders.
I would like it if it takes place when the pilot takes off.

>>388
Fuarrk, sorry for the typing mistakes, I'm sleep deprived.
>the place it the action is on
The place in the action is on
>an serious
a serious.
Plus I was typing extremely fast…

>>388
>Do I have to state the characters, the place it the action is on and the mood?
It's helpful but I'll just work with what you already gave me.

Nikolas had been in the habit of pissing off Jack for years now. Maybe it had been unintentional at the start of this, at the start of them and the restless thing between them, but anyone with eyes could see he got a sort of kick out of it now. And if this was the last time he was going to see Jack, then damn, he wanted it to be light. He wanted to leave laughing, like he always did. Nikolas kept his gloved hands shoved deep in the pockets of his dark trousers. The sky was this pretty pink thing, the sun was setting. The bridge they stood on was quiet, a bit abandoned beyond the occasional biker pedaling by in a summer dress. Nikolas leant against the railing, facing the sunset.

"You think this is all one big joke." Jack said that through clenched teeth. He was gripping at the railing, peering down into the water with greed green eyes. They were too high up for any reflections to be cast back but Jack stared down so intensely Nikolas briefly glanced over his shoulder to check if there was anything to see down there. Water, deep blue. Nothing. "You've got to understand Jackie, it may be a suicide mission, but the trade off is they'll have to build statues of me on mainstreet. Not a bad deal right?"

Nikolas tried for a grin but Jack just kept squeezing at the railing. So Nikolas' little grin drooped. He clenched his hands into fists into his pockets. He wants them, needs them, to stop trembling. "And what if I said, what if I asked you to, what if we…" Jack drifted off and clammed up. Nikolas felt ike there was treason or desertion balancing on the tip of Jack's tongue. He leant over to press a kiss to the top of the man's head before it could spring free. He mumbled against his messy curls, "It's not like I wanna die Jackie. But I really couldn't live with myself either, if I did something like that."

It was a nice enough day, besides the regularly scheduled heartbreak.

>>388
Sorry for errors, I'm kinda sleepy. Ah shit I forgot you wanted it to be when he takes off, my bad dude.

>>391
Thanks a lot! This was trully well written, you have a talent! :D

How about two boys hatefucking? Roughly, maybe with some crying involved. That’s all I ask for, go crazy with any other details you want.

>>394
Here you go nonna. Gotta break it up into two posts I guess, fujochan wont let me post in one block.

Thomas. Perfect Thomas, naked Thomas, bound Thomas, gagged Thomas. The gag didn't help, Reese could still hear him laughing through it. The supply shed was small, poorly lit by the oil lamp situated on a stack of crates in the corner. Thomas had hair like gold in the light of it. Nearly a nimbus. It was late. The village was quiet and beyond the tinnitus, church bells forever ringing in his ears, all there was to hear was Thomas' muffled laughing. Reese crouched down and snatched out the soaked rag nearly lodged down his throat and Thomas croaked, "You can't even do this right!"

Reese was horrifyingly flaccid, naked and shivering. He remained crouched and contemplated killing Thomas with a particularly large rock instead. The village would mourn his loss. Thomas was a golden boy, special, maybe even the next man destined to lead them. And the truth was Reese didn't have the nerve. He'd never had the nerve. He burned with shame in the glow of the lamp. He unknotted the boy’s binds and crept back, muttering, "Go then, get out." He wondered what hanging felt like. Like drowning? Worse?

>>394
>>395

Thomas didn't leave. He shoved Reese into the shadows onto his back, and Reese grunted from the impact. Thomas came down heavy on top of him. He smelled like sweat. Reese hated the stink of him. "Did you think I'd be frightened? Of you, the village coward?" Thomas forced his fingers into his mouth and Reese gagged. He could taste faint traces of gunpowder. He'd been hunting with the men earlier. Had been given the right. Reese had never touched a rifle in his life. Thomas jerked them out with a wince, deep teeth marks encircling his knuckles. Reese shoved up at his chest, hand sliding towards his shoulder to grip at it as Thomas forced his wet fingers into his ass. Not without some resistance, not without some pain that Reese whimpered through. Arousal snaked through him, had snaked through him the minute Thomas had come down on top of him. He dug his stubby bitten down nails into Thomas skin. Half-hard and beginning to pant.

"Do you envy me, Reese?" Thomas yanked his fingers out of him. His hand found Reese's mouth and held it shut as he forced his wet cockhead inside of him. Quickly, without ceremony, his shaft gradually followed suit. The worn floorboards creaked beneath Reese's clammy back. He groaned into his palm, nails drawing blood now. His own was boiling. Rage or lust, both. He didn't know. If he was crying, it was only because it wasn’t fair. It was only Because Thomas himself wasn’t fair. "Is that," Thomas was thrusting into him now. It hurt more than anything but Reese wound his legs around his middle like he didn't want him to stop. "is that what this is about? God, at least you're good for something. When I tell everyone, they’ll be so relieved. How hard it must be to live without a purpose." Reese thought about killing him still, bashing his head in over and over. He thought about that as he desperately tried to meet his thrusts. The moon hung high outside only window, eerie, yellow, ugly. He couldn’t see through his tears.

Thomas. Perfect Thomas. Reese wanted him dead.

>>395
>>396
Wow, that was quick! Thank you anon, the worldbuilding is phenomenal and I've no idea how you managed to do it so well with a story so short. And the dynamic these two guys have… chefs kiss. You're a damn good writer!

>>397
>>393
Thanks for the kind words guys ^^ I haven't been in the mood to write lately so it's nice to give it a lil whirl.

Wellp, if anybody else has any ideas, feel free to drop them.