Title: The Trade That We Ply
Mar. 13th, 2011 05:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cosmic_tuesdaysTitle: The Trade That We Ply
Author: Hannah Orlove
Fandom: The Talented Mr. Ripley
Pairing: Tom Ripley/Peter Smith-Kingsley
Rating: PG
Notes: 250 words. Written formeletor_et_al.
“Ask me what I want to change about this moment.” Tom was grinning so hard his cheeks were aching, but didn’t want to stop, not when it was making Peter smile too.
“I don’t know.” Peter’s smile was, in Tom’s unbiased opinion, beautiful. “What do you want to change about this moment?”
“Nothing.” He kept grinning, trying to close his lips but they kept opening.
As he watched, Peter’s smile dropped away, leaving his face serious. “As me what I want to change about this moment.”
“I don’t know.” Tom felt his smile leave as well. “What do you want to change about this moment?”
Peter didn’t answer right away, studying Tom’s face without saying anything. Before Tom could ask him if anything was wrong, Peter had leaned forward a few inches, bridging the gap between them.
His lips were cool from the ocean’s air, but didn’t taste of the salt. They were soft and delicate and smooth, and Tom was suddenly aware how chapped his own were. There was almost no pressure to the kiss, just a question: is this all right?
Peter pulled back after just a moment, face remaining serious. “I’d have done that sooner.”
Tom had no response and kept blinking behind his glasses.
“I’m freezing.” Peter turned to look out over the ocean. “Let’s go back inside.”
A protest – Nah, I’ll stay and watch the sunset – died on Tom’s lips, killed by the kiss’ memory. “Okay.”
The answer, given many times that night, was yes.
Author: Hannah Orlove
Fandom: The Talented Mr. Ripley
Pairing: Tom Ripley/Peter Smith-Kingsley
Rating: PG
Notes: 250 words. Written for
meletor_et_al. “Ask me what I want to change about this moment.” Tom was grinning so hard his cheeks were aching, but didn’t want to stop, not when it was making Peter smile too.
“I don’t know.” Peter’s smile was, in Tom’s unbiased opinion, beautiful. “What do you want to change about this moment?”
“Nothing.” He kept grinning, trying to close his lips but they kept opening.
As he watched, Peter’s smile dropped away, leaving his face serious. “As me what I want to change about this moment.”
“I don’t know.” Tom felt his smile leave as well. “What do you want to change about this moment?”
Peter didn’t answer right away, studying Tom’s face without saying anything. Before Tom could ask him if anything was wrong, Peter had leaned forward a few inches, bridging the gap between them.
His lips were cool from the ocean’s air, but didn’t taste of the salt. They were soft and delicate and smooth, and Tom was suddenly aware how chapped his own were. There was almost no pressure to the kiss, just a question: is this all right?
Peter pulled back after just a moment, face remaining serious. “I’d have done that sooner.”
Tom had no response and kept blinking behind his glasses.
“I’m freezing.” Peter turned to look out over the ocean. “Let’s go back inside.”
A protest – Nah, I’ll stay and watch the sunset – died on Tom’s lips, killed by the kiss’ memory. “Okay.”
The answer, given many times that night, was yes.
