Comment Fics. Again.

[coffeebuddha]

I've been staring at my word processor for the past hour or so and haven't accomplished anything, so I'm opening the floor for comment fics again. I feel like this is starting to become a bit of a thing with me.

ETA: I'll fill the rest of the requests tomorrow when my body (hopefully) isn't hating me as much as it is right now. =P

Comments

[starscythe.livejournal.com]

Can I request a Ryan/Esposito 'tripped and fell on top of my partner with sexy results' type scenario? That never gets old!

[coffeebuddha.livejournal.com]

Kevin bends to get a closer look at the edge of the stage. There's a glittering sliver of glass embedded in the soft wood, like someone had broken something there, and when Kevin kneels and carefully tries to part the thick foam that's covering the floor, he can see several more pieces, all the same pale green that matches the shards they'd found in their victim's side. Kevin pushes to his feet and turns to Javier, who's spent the past hour shuffling around and grumbling about self cleaning crime scenes and how his boots are going to be ruined by this shit, just in time to see him start to slip. Without even thinking about, Kevin darts forward to grab at his arm, but Javier's too far gone and in a blur of exploding bubbles and half shouted curses, Kevin somehow ends up pinned underneath Javier.

Instead of getting up, Javier smacks his forehead against Kevin's shoulder and snarls something in Spanish.

"You okay there, bro," Kevin asks a little tentatively. He pats Javier's back once, his fingers lingering on tense muscles that jump under his touch just a moment too long to be normal, then snatches his hand back and balls it into a fist at his side.

"I'm fucking great," Javier grits out against Kevin's vest. His chin's on Kevin's nipple and every syllable tugs at something deep in his belly.

Kevin develops a keen interest in the ceiling and tries to keep his body from following that train of thought. Thinks about other things, like his grandma naked and reciting the Miranda rights and handcuffs and Javier in handcuffs and shit. He sucks in a deep breath and lifts his hand to Javier's side, intending to push at him, but Javier's t-shirt must have ridden up when he fell, because his palm lands on damp, slippery skin. Kevin freezes, Javier's skin burning underneath his hand, and his fingers curl over his side, pressing in, without Kevin's permission.

Javier's curses slow, then stop as he lifts his head, his nose brushing against Kevin's cheek when he turns his head too soon, and Kevin shivers. Which, fuck, there's no possible way that Javier can miss that. Just like he probably hasn't missed the way that Kevin's half hard against his thigh, and maybe it's not too late to convince him that's his gun? Nah, probably not.

"Need to get off," Kevin says, his voice hoarse, almost wrecked, in his own ears. Javier's eyes widen and he breathes in sharply, which just presses his chest tighter against Kevin's, because this is his life and it's fucking not fair like that. He clears his throat and clarifies, "I need you to get off me now, if you're done with your break."

"Yeah," Javier breathes. Kevin waits a second, but Javier doesn't move, apparently perfectly comfortable on top of Kevin with his leg slotted between his thighs and oh God, Kevin gasps silently, because Javier's grinding down against him with a look on his face like he just figured out what a witness was lying about.

They're in the middle of a crime scene, Kevin thinks wildly. Yeah, maybe they're alone until Beckett gets back from yelling at Castle, which will take at least a half hour, but still, crime scene, cops, this is totally against the rules. And Kevin doesn't care, because Javier's hand is on his hip, holding him still while he ruts against him, and Kevin's treacherous hand is palming the back of his neck and pulling him down for a hard, bruising kiss.

[zilentdreamer.livejournal.com]

Sweet Jesus would you be totally creeped out if I said I love you?

No?...good.

[kachera.livejournal.com]

*fans self* Whooboy. I gotta say, I sort of love it when you get blocked. Good things result.

See? I found a handcuff icon. A Neal Caffrey handcuff icon. *grin*

[starscythe.livejournal.com]

This is ABSOLUTELY PERFECT! Just what I thought I wanted but better!

I LOVE YOU! :D

I love it when they both secretly want each other but it takes something like this to get them to realise it. :D

[hyuuganeji11.livejournal.com]

I would worship you forever and ever if you could make some sort of sniper/assassin!AU between the two that isn't all dark and dramatic and angsty, but fluffy. :DDDDD Like a hellhound.

[coffeebuddha.livejournal.com]

I'm assuming this is for Ryan/Esposito?

[coffeebuddha.livejournal.com]

I think I failed at the fluffy part, though I'm still not sure you wanted Ryan/Esposito to begin with. *headdesk* I might come back and write a second, fluffier fill for this later.

***

Javier turns up his collar against the cold, though it still whips against him as he crouches on top of the building, icy tendrils of air slipping down the back of his shirt and up his jacket's sleeves. He peels his gloves off and chaffs his hands together to get his circulation going, then carefully starts to put his rifle together with the ease of long practice.

He mentally reviews his assignment: Kevin Ryan, 32, second generation Irish American. Respectable college, respectable family, respectable girlfriend. He's an umbrella away from being Mary Poppins, Javier thinks, the corner of his mouth twitching up. If only he hadn't fucked it all up for himself by living up to his hype and being an honest cop. There's room for a lot of things in Javier's boss's city, but an honest cop is not one of them.

Javier lifts the rifle, his hands steady, and peers through a third story window of the opposite building. The light's on and Ryan's girlfriend had left alone earlier, so he's got to still be in there. Which of course means Javier can't find the man. He frowns, used to waiting, but still wanting to get this checked off of his To Do list; he still needs to pick up eggs and buy his grandmother a birthday present before heading home tonight.

He breathes out slowly though his mouth, a tight, steady stream of air, and methodically relaxes his muscles, starting with his shoulders. He's all the way down to his fingers when a door opens in the apartment and Ryan steps into view wearing nothing but a low slung towel around his waist. Javier pauses, intrigued, because this is a perk he doesn't get often, and he settles back on his heels and lets himself look.

Steam curls out of the bathroom behind Ryan like it's reaching for him and his pale skin is flushed rosy from the heat. A bead of water drips from his hair onto his shoulder and Javier follows it as it slides down his chest-it's path interrupted for a moment by a nipple that Javier wants to tease between his teeth-over his flat stomach, all the way down to the edge of the towel. Ryan runs his hand over his hair and it's sticking up everywhere, completely crazy, and Javier imagines grabbing him by that hair, twisting it around his fingers, biting down Ryan's neck until his skin is red from him.

When Ryan tugs his towel loose to rub at his hair, Javier swallows hard, a fine tremor running through his hands.

Mierda, Javier thinks. Before he can talk himself out of it, he shifts his aim a few centimeters too many to the right and squeezes the trigger.

He watches Ryan jump and dive behind his couch, a thin streak of red on his bicep, then quickly dismantles and stows his rifle.

It might be time to get into a new profession, he decides as he strolls casually down the street, the faint sound of sirens growing louder in the distance. Hell, his record's clean and it's not like the city couldn't use a few more good cops. His lips twitch as he adjusts the strap on his shoulder. And maybe that way he'll stand a chance at someday running his tongue over the mark he just branded on Ryan.

[zilentdreamer.livejournal.com]

Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyhyhyhyhyhyhyhyhhyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!

Why would you do that! Why would you write a comment fic that I would sell my soul for you to turn into an actual story!!!!!!!

I can see it now.........they're partners, only bad people come after Esposito, and he's desperate to keep his past from Ryan. Only Ryan finds out (somehow) that it was Esposito who'd shot at him and they have wild angry sex where Esposito finally gets to do everything he's dreamed of......and....and....

*collapses*

[hyuuganeji11.livejournal.com]

ASDFKJSDHFLKAJSDHFLKJASDHFLKAJSDFLKJASDFNKLJASDFLASKDJFHLASDK

And then I died.

Because yes, I wanted R/E (sorry, i just kinda... assumed. :D), and WOW I CAN DIE HAPPY NOW.

This makes me want to step out in front of buses. In the best way possible. :DDDDDDDDDDD

And then I sell my soul for you to continue. Like everyone else who reads this.

[kachera.livejournal.com]

Yes, yes, yes. More of this one. I agree with the others. Guns, and fuzzy morals, and the idea of having left a mark he can revisit later.... More.

I don't have any naked men with guns icons. But I do! have in the shower wet naked men icons.

[topetine.livejournal.com]

I'm torn between ink-kink and monkeybread...

mmm

Ink Kink?

Lazy, sexy morning snuggles with Danny and Steve? One of those rare mornings when Danny gets up before Steve and is all fascinated by sleeping steve and all that pretty ink? Morning happy fun-times a plus. extra bonus for bottom/slutty steve <3

[coffeebuddha.livejournal.com]

Steve's deep underwater, completely surrounded by crystalline blue and swimming with dolphins, their slippery bodies almost tickling as they brush against him. Only that's not exactly right, because when he breathes in he doesn't choke. The dolphins are wrong too with the way the places they touch tingle lingeringly. He shifts and something ghosts over his stomach, settling with a warm weight under his bellybutton. He blinks and the ocean landscape flickers and blurs, shifting into his bedroom. Danny's hand is low on his stomach, his fingernails teasingly scratching at the trail of hair there.

There's a line of hot wetness drawn over his shoulder, and when he turns his head he sees Danny tracing his tattoo with the tip of his tongue. Steve shivers, his toes curling. He opens his mouth to say something, but all that comes out is a half strangled grunt. Danny's eyes flicker to his and Steve knows he's gaping, his mouth hanging open like an especially attractive fish, but he can't seem to stop, especially since Danny's hand only needs to slip a little lower to make this the perfect morning.

Danny rolls his eyes and gives the top of the tattoo a long, hard suck before lifting his head. He runs his fingers over the path that his tongue had taken, following the pattern of the tattoo, a speculative look in his eyes that makes Steve's breath catch.

"Ever think about getting another one," Danny asks, his voice still rough with sleep. Steve blinks, and since his entire world has pretty much narrowed down to 'Danny' and 'cock' it takes him a minute to figure out he's talking about the tattoo.

"Maybe," he says, trying to sneakily move his body up the bed so that Danny's hand will be where he wants it. "Why? You want to see me with more ink? Maybe a nice tramp stamp?"

Danny gives his stomach a slap and cuts him a look that says he knows exactly what Steve's doing and that he needs to stop if he wants to get any this morning. Steve stills under Danny's hands, though his fingers and toes still twitch with the urge to move.

"Yeah," Danny says wryly as he hooks his hand under Steve's knee, tugging it up. "Maybe something big and tribal that'll show everyone just how easy you really are." He pauses, taking in the way Steve's spread out and panting for him. "Of course, it's not like that's not already obvious, babe."

Steve spreads his legs a little wider and gives Danny his patented Smooth Dog Smoldering Grin, guaranteed to make all panties within a thirty foot radius drop. Danny just rolls his eyes again, though he flattens his hand against the inside of Steve's thigh and slowly strokes upward, so he's willing to count it as a win.

"I'm thinking the tramp stamp is option two. For option one, I was going to suggest getting a list of the procedures you break most often here," Danny says lowly, drumming his fingers against Steve's upper inner thigh. He's so, so close and Steve makes a sound that most definitely isn't a whimper, except for the way it sort of is.

"I'm good with that, but only if you touch me," he manages to grind out, his fingers twisted in the sheets to keep from grabbing Danny and hauling him down for a kiss.

Danny laughs-the bastard-and leans to press a kiss against the side of Steve's leg. "Sure. Just recite the Miranda rights first."

Steve groans and drops his head back on his pillow. Honestly, you dangle one guy out of a helicopter, and nobody every lets you hear the end of it.

[topetine.livejournal.com]

I....Uh......guh......*purrs forever*

I can't even.......english not.....good.....*purrs more*

*giggles excitedly* iloveyousomuch heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

*pets the pretty*

[zilentdreamer.livejournal.com]

Love, so much love you have no idea how much love I have for this!

[rispacooper.livejournal.com]

Oh you figured out the best thing for that inner thigh!

[kachera.livejournal.com]

He's so, so close and Steve makes a sound that most definitely isn't a whimper, except for the way it sort of is.

The way these two drive each other nuts is so, so why I love them. Nicely done.

[stangerine88.livejournal.com]

Ryan/Esposito Ryan's past with the Irish mod. IDEK what Ryan's past is tbh. xD

[stangerine88.livejournal.com]

Irish mob. WTF spelling.

[coffeebuddha.livejournal.com]

Kevin slides into the back corner booth, the leather worn and familiar under his fingertips, and smiles carefully at the man sitting across from him.

"Seamus," he says with small nod. Kevin doesn't need to look in a mirror to confirm that his drinking partner for the night looks exactly like him, save for a small scar over his left eyebrow. Being identical twins will do that for you. "Wasn't expecting to see you until da's birthday."

Seamus grins and picks at his fingernails with a small pocketknife. "You know how I like to keep you on your toes. How's that partner of yours doing? Should we expect a happy announcement soon?"

It would be friendly ribbing, except for the sharp gleam in Seamus's eyes. Kevin bites down hard on the inside of his cheek and forces a smile at the pretty waitress when she puts his drink in front of him. He watches her walk away, his eyes lingering on the swing of her hips, but he doesn't feel urge to get up and follow her that he would have once. When he looks back at Seamus, his brother is eyeing him, but now he looks more interested than calculating.

"Shit," he says quietly. "Don't tell me you've actually fallen for the guy. Are you fucking him? Is this something that's gonna make Caitlin lose her mind, because that would be awesome."

Kevin ignores the mention of their sister and frowns at Seamus. "Javier's off limits. As far as anyone's concerned, he doesn't exist."

Seamus leans back, his eyes narrowing. The corners of his lips twitch up. "As far as I'm concerned, Kev, he's family. And you know we take care of family around here."

The glare Kevin levels at him doesn't seem to do any good, and Seamus produces a slim folder out of seemingly nowhere and slides it across the table, tapping it once with the tip of one finger before pulling his hand away. Kevin eyes it warily, then flips it open.

"I need you to fix this for us, Kev. We don't ask much from you-" Kevin snorts there, but Seamus continues on unperturbed. "-but this has gotten out of hand and you're in a position to make it disappear. We let you move out, abandon your duties, change your name. We let you leave, but that doesn't change who you are. Deep down under your vests and badge, your blood is the same as mine, and you can call yourself Ryan until you die, but you're still a Dever."

They sit there just looking at each other for several minutes, near mirror images, so close and yet so far apart. Finally Kevin clears his throat and closes the folder. "Was that all?"

"Yeah," Seamus says as he stands, moving to put a hand on Kevin's shoulder. "That's all, man. I know you'll do the right thing. Like I said, the family looks out for its own, right?"

Kevin looks up at Seamus, his hand a heavy weight dragging him down, and swallows. "Of course."

***

I don't know what his past is either...Clearly. lol

[rowena-dawson.livejournal.com]

Reid/Morgan

How about Prostitute!Reid?

1/2

[coffeebuddha.livejournal.com]

Derek recognizes the kid from one of the recruiting lectures he went to with Gideon three, maybe four months ago. Of course, he thinks, giving the young man a long once over, he hadn't looked exactly like that. Not a lot of guys could really pull off nearly painted on jeans and a t-shirt that looks like it came from Baby Gap, but he's thin enough to make it work, Derek thinks, leaning back against the bar on his elbows.

The kid-he never did catch his name though Gideon had chatted with him forever after the lecture had ended-is perched at a high top table, smiling and nodding coyly at a man who looks old enough to be his father. Derek watches them as he nurses his beer and wonders what the kid sees in the guy. He's not exactly great looking and Derek is good enough at reading lips to know that the conversation would put him to sleep. The kid's doing a good enough job of looking interested that Derek would probably be fooled enough to just let it go, except that his entire job is behavior analysis and he can see the subtle signs that practically scream the kid's desire to be anywhere else right now. He takes one last pull of his beer, slaps a twenty down on the bar to cover his check, and ambles over to the kid's table.

"Hey, pretty boy," he says, dropping a casual arm around the kid's shoulders. "Fancy meeting you here."

The kid blinks up at him with impossibly huge eyes and Derek feels something kick deep in his belly. The older man looks flustered, torn between annoyance and whatever manners his mama taught him. Derek's eyes flicker over the table top, snagging on an unsealed envelope. It's just open enough that he can see the edges of a few hundred dollar bills, and suddenly the missing piece of the puzzle snaps into place. When he looks at the kid, he can see he knows he's busted, and Derek gives his shoulder a reassuring squeeze before turning back to the John.

"Sorry about this," he says smoothly, his arm dropping to the kid's waist so he can tug him off his chair. "I'm going to need to borrow him."

At that, the man stumbles to his feet, his round, pasty face flushing in unattractive blotches, and the kid gapes at him, his mouth working soundlessly.

"Now see here, asshole," the John gets out before the kid manages to squeak, "Agent Morgan."

The John pauses, the color draining from his face, then he's scrambling for the envelope and backing toward the door. "I don't want any trouble."

"Good, because I don't either," Derek says, flashing him a grin with a few too many teeth, before turning back to the kid, who he's almost surprised to realize is the same height at him. "And you. What the fuck do you think you were you doing?"

The kid's so tense he's practically vibrating against Derek's side, then he's pulling away with a dark look. "Scholarships only cover so much and I have bills to pay. You just cost me money."

Derek tucks his hands in his pockets and arches an eyebrow. "You couldn't get a normal job? Or at least not a legal one? Hell, kid, when all else fails there are student loans."

"It's Spencer," the kid-Spencer-mutters, his eyes turning calculating as his face starts to soften. "And the loans weren't cutting it. I support my mom too and no amount of tutoring is going to pay for both of us," he says, shifting closer, right up into Derek's personal space. He ducks his head and looks at Derek through long, thick lashes. "If you're that worried, you could always help me out."

Derek blinks, a little stunned at what the kid's trying to pull, then bites back a laugh and drapes his arm around Spencer's shoulders again. "You know, you're not half bad at that. Tell you what, how about I don't get your ass throw in jail, write you a recommendation to go with the one I'm sure you sweet talked out of Gideon, maybe even buy you dinner, and we call it even?"

Spencer sighs and cuts him a wry look, his full, pretty lips scrunching to the side. "Yeah, I didn't think you'd be that easy."

2/2

[coffeebuddha.livejournal.com]

Derek leans in close enough that he knows Spencer can feel his breath on his skin, grinning when he feels the way he shivers. "Trust me, pretty boy, if you end up in my bed-and God knows I'm not even going to pretend I'm not interested in that idea-then it's going to be because you want it so bad you're begging for it, not because you're looking to get paid."

***

Stupid comment limits. I was 44 characters too long. XD

[michygeary.livejournal.com]

Ryan is deathly afraid of an animal that Esposito finds adorable. (Or vice versa.)

[coffeebuddha.livejournal.com]

There's practically a skip to Javier's step when he gets home that night, which isn't exactly something Kevin had been expecting. Their latest case is going well enough, but it's still a bit of a headache, and Javier's mom had called before they'd left for work that morning, which is rarely a good sign. Still, Javier's grinning, his focus laser intense on the small cardboard box in his hand, and Kevin's not going to complain about that, even if the kiss Javier aims for his mouth mostly hits his chin and, instead of the usual take out, Kevin ends up with an armful of plastic bags emblazoned with 'Cuddly Critters!!!'

Javier's making a noise that sounds suspiciously like a coo into the now open top of the box and Kevin pauses, raising an eyebrow that the other man doesn't notice.

"Do I even want to know what you got or how fluffy it is?" Kevin asks dryly. Javier finally looks at him, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning, and holds the box out to Kevin as reverently as an offering.

"I named him Anansi," he says happily. Kevin peers into the box and jumps, instinctively backpedaling until he runs into a chair and topples over backwards onto his ass.

"You bought a damn tarantula," Kevin shrieks in a very manly, macho way. "Why the fuck would you want a tarantula?"

Javier rolls his eyes at him like he's the one who's crazy and then sticks his hand into the box, letting the damn thing crawl up onto his palm. Kevin blanches.

"I've always wanted one," says Javier, a sweet smile directed at Anansi. "I mean, just look at his widdle legs!"