I'm slowly working my way back through this journal, tagging and tidying up as I go, and I realise that I never posted this story, after it came down from the competition site. Written in April 2005 for Torquere Press's Marvelous Month of Masturbation short fiction competition, where it was placed 3rd. Luke, Walker, masturbation .... nope, I still don;t see anything wrong with this picture :D

In your favourite darkness
by Alex Draven


He eased in the door, and was wrapped around immediately with the half-lit hush of no-one up to talk to. Jenna was staying over with Enrique, and he knew that Walker would already be in bed – coming home from late shifts to a basically empty house sucked. At least in the kitchen he could have the lights on, and there was Jenna's evil-tempered cat to talk to while he fixed a sandwich and finally got to take his shoes off. Late shifts sucked, and late shifts in retail sucked harder.

Luke contemplated taking a shower before bed, but his eyes were gritty and, as he told the cat, warm naked boyfriend sounded good, and he could grab a shower in the morning. He upended his glass into the sink, and risked life and limb to scratch Sascha behind the ears before flipping the light and padding upstairs. Read more... )
I'm slowly working my way back through this journal, tagging and tidying up as I go, and I realise that I never posted this story, after it came down from the competition site. Written in April 2005 for Torquere Press's Marvelous Month of Masturbation short fiction competition, where it was placed 3rd. Luke, Walker, masturbation .... nope, I still don;t see anything wrong with this picture :D

In your favourite darkness
by Alex Draven


He eased in the door, and was wrapped around immediately with the half-lit hush of no-one up to talk to. Jenna was staying over with Enrique, and he knew that Walker would already be in bed – coming home from late shifts to a basically empty house sucked. At least in the kitchen he could have the lights on, and there was Jenna's evil-tempered cat to talk to while he fixed a sandwich and finally got to take his shoes off. Late shifts sucked, and late shifts in retail sucked harder.

Luke contemplated taking a shower before bed, but his eyes were gritty and, as he told the cat, warm naked boyfriend sounded good, and he could grab a shower in the morning. He upended his glass into the sink, and risked life and limb to scratch Sascha behind the ears before flipping the light and padding upstairs. Read more... )
alexdraven: Negative image of a raven in flight with the text Alex Draven (Default)
( Nov. 6th, 2005 10:34 pm)

For Bonfire Night 2005, a little Luke and Walker. [more of their stories are indexed here]

Apologies that it's a day late.  The first line beginning comes from [livejournal.com profile] squashed, because I was having a real blank-page-bad sort of day.

*****

The night air was soft, like a well-loved blanket, still tinted with the smell of wood smoke and explosives, even though it was hours now since they'd set off the last of the fireworks and the bonfire was nothing more than smouldering ashes.

Behind him, the windows of the house glowed yellow, and if he listened he could hear Walker, Bri and Jenna stacking glasses and laughing about something, overlaid by the distant whisper of a late night train rocking it's way to a depot somewhere. It had been a good party, but he was glad Lee hadn't pressured them into going into town with his crowd to finish it off with clubbing.

***** )

alexdraven: Negative image of a raven in flight with the text Alex Draven (Default)
( Nov. 6th, 2005 10:34 pm)

For Bonfire Night 2005, a little Luke and Walker. [more of their stories are indexed here]

Apologies that it's a day late.  The first line beginning comes from [livejournal.com profile] squashed, because I was having a real blank-page-bad sort of day.

*****

The night air was soft, like a well-loved blanket, still tinted with the smell of wood smoke and explosives, even though it was hours now since they'd set off the last of the fireworks and the bonfire was nothing more than smouldering ashes.

Behind him, the windows of the house glowed yellow, and if he listened he could hear Walker, Bri and Jenna stacking glasses and laughing about something, overlaid by the distant whisper of a late night train rocking it's way to a depot somewhere. It had been a good party, but he was glad Lee hadn't pressured them into going into town with his crowd to finish it off with clubbing.

***** )

The first time he'd ever met Walker's mother, she was in London with a friend, with a couple of hours to kill why the friend had some tests done at a discrete Harley Street clinic. They had been waiting in the generic coffee shop, Walker teasing him a little about his nerves, and the moment she had looked at him without unwrapping her arm from Walker's waist, he could see all the ways Walker was just like her. The shape of his face, his colouring, the way he licked his front right tooth when he realised he was babbling. She called Walker Davey, and pulled Luke into a brief awkward hug when he'd gone to shake her hand, and asked lots of questions, until Walker had rescued him, and asked Luke to please, call her Jamie. Walker teased her about her not bothering to dress up for a day trip to London, and the first time she smiled at Luke it was because he complimented her soft faded denim shirt dress and called Walker a dandy.

The second time he met Walker's mother, the two of them had battled rush hour traffic on a bank holiday weekend, to spend the Easter weekend in Exeter with his family. With his mother, and his grandfather, and the two French exchange students that Jamie was hosting, and her neighbour, Steph, and her twin daughters, who were where the French exchange students had come from, and the friend, who didn't have cancer after all, and the friend's husband, and Mr Walker's lady friend, who was in her seventies and somewhat hard of hearing. He spent most of the weekend quietly in shock and the bustle and hustle of it all. They escaped into town for most of Saturday, fingers brushing in the cool corners of the cathedral, and stealing honeymoon kisses in the car. It rained, so the hoped for picnic on the Sunday became a full dinner instead, and while Luke was forbidden to help with the preparations, he sat in the kitchen and watched Walker and Jamie chat and sing along to Elvis Costello on the radio, and work around each other and he kept their wineglasses topped up and allowed their comfortable happiness wash over him.
The first time he'd ever met Walker's mother, she was in London with a friend, with a couple of hours to kill why the friend had some tests done at a discrete Harley Street clinic. They had been waiting in the generic coffee shop, Walker teasing him a little about his nerves, and the moment she had looked at him without unwrapping her arm from Walker's waist, he could see all the ways Walker was just like her. The shape of his face, his colouring, the way he licked his front right tooth when he realised he was babbling. She called Walker Davey, and pulled Luke into a brief awkward hug when he'd gone to shake her hand, and asked lots of questions, until Walker had rescued him, and asked Luke to please, call her Jamie. Walker teased her about her not bothering to dress up for a day trip to London, and the first time she smiled at Luke it was because he complimented her soft faded denim shirt dress and called Walker a dandy.

The second time he met Walker's mother, the two of them had battled rush hour traffic on a bank holiday weekend, to spend the Easter weekend in Exeter with his family. With his mother, and his grandfather, and the two French exchange students that Jamie was hosting, and her neighbour, Steph, and her twin daughters, who were where the French exchange students had come from, and the friend, who didn't have cancer after all, and the friend's husband, and Mr Walker's lady friend, who was in her seventies and somewhat hard of hearing. He spent most of the weekend quietly in shock and the bustle and hustle of it all. They escaped into town for most of Saturday, fingers brushing in the cool corners of the cathedral, and stealing honeymoon kisses in the car. It rained, so the hoped for picnic on the Sunday became a full dinner instead, and while Luke was forbidden to help with the preparations, he sat in the kitchen and watched Walker and Jamie chat and sing along to Elvis Costello on the radio, and work around each other and he kept their wineglasses topped up and allowed their comfortable happiness wash over him.
For [livejournal.com profile] beginings laundry list challenge - Luke and Walker's story can be found here.

***** ***** ******

Walker loved to dance, and even straight from work, with his uniform t-shirt crammed haphazzardly into his bag and his eyes itching with tiredness and smoke and the brilliant blue flashes of the lights, Luke loved to watch. Except if he stayed propped against the bar much longer he was going to fall asleep standing up. And anyway, Walker swaying and moving like that, pale skin painted with lights and glossed with sweat, was a too good not to appreciate up close and personal. Worth braving the dance floor for, at any rate.

He stepped into the crowd, allowing the music to dictate his pace, the way he twisted and slid to close in on his boy, slipping close into his space, hips already following the trail of Walker's fine backside. He rested his hand on Walker's hip, fingers sticking to damp skin above the waistband. mine. love. gorgeous.. Not even half a beat and they were matched for movement, Walker's weight dropping back a little so he could rest his head briefly against Luke's chest, love you, trust you, thank you, before he turned, slotting their legs together like coming home. The play of their movements, the back and forth, slide and grind, was flattery and promises, affirmation and teasing, want and having.

They were hot and breathless when the set of Walker's shoulders altered, made Luke check and tilt his head. what? Quick tight gestures, unconsciously timed to the bass beat, a thumb point, a lifting move. going to the bar – you need a drink? Luke shook his head slightly, walking his fingers along Walker's sharp collar bone. home? . Walker's gaze flickered over the dance floor, and Luke brazenly leaned a little closer, pressing his thigh up firm against Walker's basket, lewd and to the point. Watching Walker's laugh with all the sound lost to the music was familiar, good. Walker's teeth grazed against his shoulder and stole Luke's breath before his lover took his hand and led him through the crowds. On the edge of the dance floor, they paused, turned, and their kiss was hungry, tongues and teeth, and their fingers lingered as they parted, Walker to the cloakrooms and Luke to find a cab, well-practised teamwork designed to get them alone and together as soon as could be. No need for words.
For [livejournal.com profile] beginings laundry list challenge - Luke and Walker's story can be found here.

***** ***** ******

Walker loved to dance, and even straight from work, with his uniform t-shirt crammed haphazzardly into his bag and his eyes itching with tiredness and smoke and the brilliant blue flashes of the lights, Luke loved to watch. Except if he stayed propped against the bar much longer he was going to fall asleep standing up. And anyway, Walker swaying and moving like that, pale skin painted with lights and glossed with sweat, was a too good not to appreciate up close and personal. Worth braving the dance floor for, at any rate.

He stepped into the crowd, allowing the music to dictate his pace, the way he twisted and slid to close in on his boy, slipping close into his space, hips already following the trail of Walker's fine backside. He rested his hand on Walker's hip, fingers sticking to damp skin above the waistband. mine. love. gorgeous.. Not even half a beat and they were matched for movement, Walker's weight dropping back a little so he could rest his head briefly against Luke's chest, love you, trust you, thank you, before he turned, slotting their legs together like coming home. The play of their movements, the back and forth, slide and grind, was flattery and promises, affirmation and teasing, want and having.

They were hot and breathless when the set of Walker's shoulders altered, made Luke check and tilt his head. what? Quick tight gestures, unconsciously timed to the bass beat, a thumb point, a lifting move. going to the bar – you need a drink? Luke shook his head slightly, walking his fingers along Walker's sharp collar bone. home? . Walker's gaze flickered over the dance floor, and Luke brazenly leaned a little closer, pressing his thigh up firm against Walker's basket, lewd and to the point. Watching Walker's laugh with all the sound lost to the music was familiar, good. Walker's teeth grazed against his shoulder and stole Luke's breath before his lover took his hand and led him through the crowds. On the edge of the dance floor, they paused, turned, and their kiss was hungry, tongues and teeth, and their fingers lingered as they parted, Walker to the cloakrooms and Luke to find a cab, well-practised teamwork designed to get them alone and together as soon as could be. No need for words.
More Luke and Walker can be found over at Scatter Patterns, which includes another ficlet about their divergent musical tastes. Comments are, as always, welcome .

***** ***** ****

The radio in the staff room was always on – a low murmur of Radio 4, buried deep in the background during breaks and providing a comfortable blanket to wrap around the quieter class period when there were one or two teachers slaving over workbooks with red and black pens. Walker would agree wholeheartedly with the importance of the social aspects of sharing the space before school and over lunch, but the self-important hush and the obdurate babble of the radio during his precious non-teaching sessions grated on his nerves.

mix tapes )
More Luke and Walker can be found over at Scatter Patterns, which includes another ficlet about their divergent musical tastes. Comments are, as always, welcome .

***** ***** ****

The radio in the staff room was always on – a low murmur of Radio 4, buried deep in the background during breaks and providing a comfortable blanket to wrap around the quieter class period when there were one or two teachers slaving over workbooks with red and black pens. Walker would agree wholeheartedly with the importance of the social aspects of sharing the space before school and over lunch, but the self-important hush and the obdurate babble of the radio during his precious non-teaching sessions grated on his nerves.

mix tapes )
For [livejournal.com profile] tsuki_no_bara and [livejournal.com profile] meridaie who both wanted happiness and ferrets. Other Luke / Walker fic can be found here

***** ***** *****

The only time Luke made a point of assigning ownership of Sam and Sam was when their cage needed cleaning out or when one of them had done something particularly cute and psychotic to one of Walker's more prised possessions. They way he figured it, him and Walker keeping the terrible twins entertained in the kitchen while Jenna cleaned and cleared the run in the conservatory was a pretty fair division of labour. Especially when he'd already done his turn with the housework and mopped the kitchen floor, and when Walker had bartered cleaning for cooking for his share.

Read more... )
For [livejournal.com profile] tsuki_no_bara and [livejournal.com profile] meridaie who both wanted happiness and ferrets. Other Luke / Walker fic can be found here

***** ***** *****

The only time Luke made a point of assigning ownership of Sam and Sam was when their cage needed cleaning out or when one of them had done something particularly cute and psychotic to one of Walker's more prised possessions. They way he figured it, him and Walker keeping the terrible twins entertained in the kitchen while Jenna cleaned and cleared the run in the conservatory was a pretty fair division of labour. Especially when he'd already done his turn with the housework and mopped the kitchen floor, and when Walker had bartered cleaning for cooking for his share.

Read more... )
For the beginnings[livejournal.com profile] beginnings challenge : #35 – déjà vu which took me back to #34 – Marriage. Rating: PG Word count: 500 exactly.
More Luke and Walker [and Jenna and ferrets] can be found indexed here


***** ***** *****

"Mawwidge" Walker deadpanned.

"Wuv – twoo wuv." Jenna nodded back earnestly, managing not to start grinning until after Luke had backhanded her knee as a lazy alternative to clipping either of them around the ear.

They were sat in the kitchen catching up on a weekend's worth of gossip and playing with the ferrets while Walker cooked supper, and somehow it had turned into National Bait Luke night.

Jenna raised an eyebrow in retort and returned to her theme, addressing Samson who was more than happy to listen so long as she kept rubbing her finger into the dense fur of his scruff like that. "It's a huge deal for her, you know? You should be being more supportive Luke – your own sister!"

click for more )
For the beginnings[livejournal.com profile] beginnings challenge : #35 – déjà vu which took me back to #34 – Marriage. Rating: PG Word count: 500 exactly.
More Luke and Walker [and Jenna and ferrets] can be found indexed here


***** ***** *****

"Mawwidge" Walker deadpanned.

"Wuv – twoo wuv." Jenna nodded back earnestly, managing not to start grinning until after Luke had backhanded her knee as a lazy alternative to clipping either of them around the ear.

They were sat in the kitchen catching up on a weekend's worth of gossip and playing with the ferrets while Walker cooked supper, and somehow it had turned into National Bait Luke night.

Jenna raised an eyebrow in retort and returned to her theme, addressing Samson who was more than happy to listen so long as she kept rubbing her finger into the dense fur of his scruff like that. "It's a huge deal for her, you know? You should be being more supportive Luke – your own sister!"

click for more )
Completely gratuitous smut, because it's humpday.

***** ***** *****Read more... )
Completely gratuitous smut, because it's humpday.

***** ***** *****Read more... )
for [livejournal.com profile] weredonut who wanted a ficlet for this icon :



With apologies to [livejournal.com profile] witchwillow, who Ally and Douglas belong to, and who I trust to forgive me for any mistakes I made with their reactions.

***** ***** *****

They'd all seen the film about ten times over in various combinations – all five of them together once at the cinema [Luke's third viewing and Ally's second] and maybe three more times in bits and pieces in Jenna's cosy cluttered living room. Ally and Douglas had, of course, been invited to the grand all-in-one weekend that Luke had arranged, and Walker himself had got in the habit of letting the DVD play in the background when he was too tired to know what he really wanted to watch, trusting the story to pull him in from whatever point he found with the forward button. On a wet Sunday afternoon Walker was inclined to think that there weren't a whole lot of places he'd rather be than watching it once more, wrapped around Luke and bantering with the others.

In all honesty the film was acting more as a focus for conversation than actually getting watched. Every few lines either Ally or Luke would end up lip synching with the dialogue until someone smacked them, or one of the ferrets would do something either adorable or painful, or Jenna would remember some gossip she'd heard about one of the actors, or Douglas would shush them all urgently to drink in a phrasing in the soundtrack to wax lyrical about, and then break into his own appreciation to try and stop Ally to teasing about the soap opera they'd woven around the characters the first time they'd all watched it at home to the accompaniment if a fair amount of red wine. The night had ended up in hysterics with them all sliding into and out of roles to make their cases and deciding that unless otherwise specified it was fair to assume that everyone was probably in love with Legolas.

Walker smiled from the safety of Luke's lap as the screen turned to the battlements of Rohan and Douglas slid onto the floor behind his sister and clamped his hand firmly over her mouth, Luke chuckling at her squeak of indignation. Walker caught Jenna's eye. As Aragon approached the cloaked figure Jenna mouthed 'Oh Legolas – how ever did you find me out?' and Walker timed his deadpan response as best he could to the sweeping gaze of the elf 'I sensed it. Using my hair.' And it was worth the sharp poke of fingers between his ribs and being dumped unceremoniously onto the floor for the laughter that filled the room.
for [livejournal.com profile] weredonut who wanted a ficlet for this icon :



With apologies to [livejournal.com profile] witchwillow, who Ally and Douglas belong to, and who I trust to forgive me for any mistakes I made with their reactions.

***** ***** *****

They'd all seen the film about ten times over in various combinations – all five of them together once at the cinema [Luke's third viewing and Ally's second] and maybe three more times in bits and pieces in Jenna's cosy cluttered living room. Ally and Douglas had, of course, been invited to the grand all-in-one weekend that Luke had arranged, and Walker himself had got in the habit of letting the DVD play in the background when he was too tired to know what he really wanted to watch, trusting the story to pull him in from whatever point he found with the forward button. On a wet Sunday afternoon Walker was inclined to think that there weren't a whole lot of places he'd rather be than watching it once more, wrapped around Luke and bantering with the others.

In all honesty the film was acting more as a focus for conversation than actually getting watched. Every few lines either Ally or Luke would end up lip synching with the dialogue until someone smacked them, or one of the ferrets would do something either adorable or painful, or Jenna would remember some gossip she'd heard about one of the actors, or Douglas would shush them all urgently to drink in a phrasing in the soundtrack to wax lyrical about, and then break into his own appreciation to try and stop Ally to teasing about the soap opera they'd woven around the characters the first time they'd all watched it at home to the accompaniment if a fair amount of red wine. The night had ended up in hysterics with them all sliding into and out of roles to make their cases and deciding that unless otherwise specified it was fair to assume that everyone was probably in love with Legolas.

Walker smiled from the safety of Luke's lap as the screen turned to the battlements of Rohan and Douglas slid onto the floor behind his sister and clamped his hand firmly over her mouth, Luke chuckling at her squeak of indignation. Walker caught Jenna's eye. As Aragon approached the cloaked figure Jenna mouthed 'Oh Legolas – how ever did you find me out?' and Walker timed his deadpan response as best he could to the sweeping gaze of the elf 'I sensed it. Using my hair.' And it was worth the sharp poke of fingers between his ribs and being dumped unceremoniously onto the floor for the laughter that filled the room.
.

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