oh you can do it for me, yes / shine out, shine out

[hardparade]

I feel like it's a good time for me to do that meme where you post snippets from unfinished fic that you have lying around. I have eleven, some are ones I'm currently working on, and some are completely stalled and/or ancient and I feel like they may as well be shared.

All Narnia RPF, not surprisingly! There's a whole bunch of pairings, and ratings vary but go up to NC-17. Anything else worth warning for is specified in the heading above the extract.


1. Skandar/Ben/Georgie – ha, this is literally all I have for this. There was a prompt on the kink meme about Skandar and Georgie teaming up together to seduce Ben, and…that was relevant to my interests.

"He's bisexual," Skandar snaps, "we both have a chance."

"He likes girls better," Georgie fires back.

"Legal girls, maybe," Skandar retorts, and Georgie pouts at him.

2. Ben/Skandar/Anna – remember ages ago when I wrote this threesome? I actually had two scenarios originally, and went with the 'Skandar seeing them kiss' one, but here is some of the alternative, which was a lot darker. Ben is pretty mean in it, which ended up not working for me.

There's a shift and a shuffle as Skandar gets up onto his knees, and she'd wonder what he was doing if she could, but Ben's finger is sliding inside her now and she shudders, grabbing weakly at his waist. But then there's nothing, no movement, and she opens her eyes to see Skandar settling down between her legs and her brain goes blank, stuttering and stalling. He's got his hands curled around her knees and he's crouched down, erection straining against the tightness of his trousers now. He's looking at Ben.

"Let me," he says, and it's that pleading tone again even though Anna can tell that for Ben's sake he's trying to sound more demanding.

"Let you what?" asks Ben coldly. He's not touching her anymore and Anna aches at the loss of his hand.

Skandar's voice is quiet, embarrassed. "Let me taste her," he says hoarsely.

Ben doesn't reply, doesn't even move. Anna's gaze flickers between the two of them; they seem to be having a conversation with their eyes and she doesn't know what they're saying but she likes the end result, because Skandar slides down and ducks his head and she whimpers when he swipes the flat of his tongue along her, strokes it over her clit.

"You've never done this before, have you?" Ben chuckles harshly.

Anna doesn't care, doesn't want to know, and Skandar doesn't reply, just flicks the tip of his tongue against her clit and makes her squirm. It's almost too much and yet somehow she still wants more, and she finds herself bucking up against his mouth, pushing against his tongue. He's doing just fine without Ben's help but then Ben's fingers are hitching her dress up further and slipping down to spread her open, his palm against her clit as Skandar's tongue slides inside of her.

3. That Ben-gets-a-part-in-Twilight fic, that I said I'd post bits of whenever I do this meme because it's never actually going to get finished.

"I think you need to calm down," says Skandar about a month later, standing with a rather over-excited Will as they get their pictures taken.

"But," says Will, still grinning manically at all the cameras as he talks, "I'm on the red carpet of a Twilight premiere. Ben said he'd introduce me to Ed—Robert." He sighs blissfully. "I think I'm going to faint."

"Don't," Skandar advises.

They're surrounded by teenage girls straining against the barriers, holding out ridiculous signs and wearing ridiculous t-shirts. They're all screaming like they've been stabbed or something, and none of the cast of the movie has even arrived yet.

He can just imagine how these photos are going to look—Will dressed to the nines (Skandar managed to persuade him against wearing a 'Team Edward' t-shirt under his suit jacket, though, thank God), beaming excitedly, beside a blushing, grimacing Skandar in jeans and a sweater.

"Can we go in now, and get this over with?" Skandar asks boredly.

"I want to savour it a moment longer," Will tells him, and Skandar elbows him in the ribs, nudging him towards the door.

The movie is awful, as Skandar expected, but he has to admit Ben's done a good job with what he was given. His Aro is suitably creepy and the audience is on the edge of their seats whenever he's on screen. (Admittedly, they're all on the edge of their seats the whole time, thrilled by every single scene.) Even so, at least three quarters of the movie make Skandar crack up laughing, earning him an upset "Shhh," from Will.

They don't actually see Ben until the afterparty (yes, Ben has gotten them tickets to the afterparty, for which Skandar will never forgive him) and when they do, it's refreshing to see him minus the make-up and red contact lenses.

"Did you like it?" he asks proudly, then eyes Will with concern. "Will, mate, are you okay? Do you need a drink? You look a bit pale."

"That's—oh my god," Will gasps, pointing with a shaky finger across the room at none other than Robert Pattinson, who is ignoring the venue's no smoking rule and sitting slumped in a corner with a bored-looking Kristen Stewart.

"Oh yeah, I said I'd introduce you, didn't I?" says Ben, catching Rob's eye and waving.

"Oh my god, oh my god," Will frets, fussing with his hair. "Do I look okay?"

Rob comes over, and Skandar's surprised to see that up close, he looks really quite dishevelled. His hair looks like it hasn't been washed in a week, his shirt has at least three different stains on it, and one of his shoes doesn't have laces. Even Skandar in his can't-be-arsed outfit looks more put-together than the star of the movie, and the thought makes him grin.

"This is Will," says Ben, gesturing, "and Skandar."

"Hi," says Rob, looking slightly puzzled. He sticks his cigarette in his mouth and shakes Will's hand, then Skandar's.

"Will's a big fan of the books," Ben explains.

A strange expression crosses Rob's face, like maybe he's trying not to laugh. "Really?" he asks in a kind of drawling, lazy London accent.

Ben chuckles. "Mmhm."

4. Future orgy!fic – from that time I was prompted to write a 'ten years later' story for to stay the way it's been.

"[Anna's] hair's like, down to her arse now," Georgie informs Ben, leaning closer to the mirror, slicking his wife's lipstick across her lips.

"Well, she has been growing it for a while."

Ben loves seeing Georgie, but there's something about her nonchalance that bothers him. The way she doesn't seem to care about the fact that he has a wife and kids, like it doesn't make a difference to her. The others are uncomfortable with the topic (though they try to pretend otherwise) but it doesn't seem to faze her at all. He supposes it's partly because she's so young. And, because she gets on with the whole family, his wife especially. His wife really likes her. He supposes that's better than the sly comments about Anna, and better than the strange, strained politeness between her and Will, but whenever he sees the two of them sharing a bottle of wine and watching a film, something happens in his heart and he just wants to keep them as far away from each other as possible. Maybe it's just guilt. His kids have started calling her Auntie Georgie, and it just makes things worse.

"It's so pretty," Georgie goes on, smacking her lips together, "but it can get in the way. When you see her, ask her to tie it in a bun or something."

"Georgie," laughs Will, flicking her on the arm as he stands up.

"What?" she says indignantly. "I'm pretty sure that was your suggestion in the beginning."

Will shakes his head, but he's still grinning. "Right, we'd better be off, then," he says. He leans in, pecks Ben quickly on the lips. "I'm off to Paris next week, as you know,"—of course Ben knows, hardly an hour has passed in which Will hasn't mentioned the awful, cliché-sounding movie he's doing there—"but I should be back for your party."

Ben nods. Georgie throws her arms around his neck, kisses him messily, smearing cherry-red lipstick on his skin. He wipes his lips with the back of his hand like a ten year old boy, grimacing. "Lovely."

"Send our love to the missus," Georgie grins, leaving the bedroom. "And the boys."

"Be in touch about the party, yeah?" Will adds, looking back over his shoulder at Ben.

"Yeah," Ben says, following them down the stairs to the front door. "Yeah. Of course."

When they leave, he goes straight back to the bedroom, checking the room for any tell-tale signs that he hasn't been alone. His wife has taken the boys to visit her sister, and he knows she'll be exhausted when she comes home, wanting to go straight to bed. He pulls on some pajama trousers and makes the bed, then goes to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of wine, but decides against it, heading for the bathroom for a shower instead.

He wipes the condensation from the mirror that Georgie steamed up, and checks his reflection, peering at his own head, wondering if Will was right about the grey hair. He knows it wouldn't be unusual, knows he's getting old, but the idea still makes him nervous. It's mid-summer, the time of the year that he thinks might always remind him of when all of this started. The Dawn Treader world premiere, champagne-blurred and dreamlike though it is in his memory, is something he'll always remember. Georgie just sixteen years old, helping to lead him into all of this. It seems so long ago, seems like it didn't even happen at all—like maybe it's always, always been like this.

5. Skandar/Georgie/Will P. – the Dreamers!fic I mentioned, which I have like 8000 words of so far and it's not even got any proper structure yet because I just keep writing random scenes. What even.

All the flats have a slightly different layout, and in Will's, the first door from the kitchen is the bathroom. So in his sleep-addled haze, padding around Skandar's unfamiliar flat in the dark, the door he pushes open is not the one he needs.

It takes him a moment to make sense of what he's seeing. First, he realises that the room is not a bathroom, which means it must be Skandar's bedroom, and in his embarrassment at that he starts to pull the door shut again immediately. But something odd catches his eye, and he stops, and looks closer. In the eerie moonlight seeping in from a crack in the blinds, he can see not one, but two bodies sprawled across Skandar's bed.

His heart starts beating faster when he realises they're naked—stretched out together, half-in and half-out of the covers, discarded pajamas hanging off the sides of the bed. Georgie is the one closest to him, but she's facing away from the door, facing Skandar, and he can see the soft curve of her bottom, the naked skin of her back. Skandar is facing her, too, and Will feels his face go hot as his eyes trace the shape of Skandar's body, the darkness at the juncture of his thighs. Their legs are intertwined, and he stares for a while, trying to figure out which limbs belong to whom, and gazing at the way their pale skin shimmers in the moonlight.

He doesn't know how much time passes before he manages to shake himself and continue on his way, pulling the door gently closed again.

6. Skandar/Tilda – this totally bizarre d/s thing I'm writing with moogle62. This is, um. Tilda spanking Skandar. And…Ben gets involved later. It's, uh, set during the filming of Prince Caspian, because when we were forming the idea, we sort of forgot that Skandar was 15 then. WE ARE TERRIBLE PEOPLE.

Then, as her palm stays spread out across the back of his jeans, he feels her other hand sliding up his body. He feels its gentle path over the small of his back, up along his spine, making him tingle as it crumples his shirt beneath. Her fingers play along the nape of his neck, the exposed skin and hair, and he almost can't take how good it feels to be touched by her this way. It makes him want to squirm, want to moan into the fabric that still stifles his mouth. Then, she slides her hand around to his face, and he feels it soft and cool against his hot cheek. She eases his head round, makes him look at her, and he does, his nerves sparking.

She smiles—slow and sweet, almost fond—and strikes him again. This time his cry is quieter, broken, and he only jolts a little bit, staring into her eyes. It's more like before, now—somehow looking at her makes it easier, better, even though it's more embarrassing at the same time. But when she does it again—spanks him, he forces himself to think—and he's still, the only sound he makes a sharp gasp, she looks impressed again, and it's all worth it. He doesn't know quite why he craves her approval, he's never known. All he knows is that when he gets it, he floods with happiness and pride and it's better than anything.

Her other hand slips from his face, like she knows he'll stay that way now—and he does—and instead, it slides under the hem of his t-shirt. He shudders, uncontrollably, as he feels her fingers traverse his bare skin, and when her hand spreads out across his back, his eyes flutter closed.

"Look at me," she says, a little sternly, and he opens them again immediately, feeling the slight pressure of her fingertips against his skin.

Her other hand is moving, a small circle, rubbing and making the pain last. And god, the fact that she's touching him there—it's so wrong, but she makes it seem like there's nothing sexual about it, even though each time she touches him it sends a thrill of arousal through his whole body. He's never been this intimate with her, and just feeling her skin on his, and being this close to her is almost as overwhelming as the pain.

She brings her hand back to deliver another blow, and then again and again in quick succession, and he wriggles instinctively against the pain but she holds him still, firm and steady with that one hand placed on his back. The sounds he's making have quietened to sharp little intakes of breath with each slap of her hand, and her slight smile is back, just a subtle curl of her lips as she watches his reactions closely. He has his hands clenched around fistfuls of duvet, he realises then, so tightly that his knuckles have gone white.

7. Skandar/Sal – that is, Tilda Swinton's character in The Beach. This is a completely bizarre, crackfic idea I had involving Skandar interacting with a whole bunch of the characters Tilda has played, some in real life and some in dreams, and basically steadily going insane. I don't knoooow.

When he wakes up, he feels something slightly scratchy against his cheek, and is startled to realise that it's sand. He thrashes his arms around wildly, feeling it all around him, hot under a beating sun. He opens his eyes, and is nearly blinded. He sits up and squints into the distance. He's on a beach. He's distracted, momentarily, from wondering how in the hell he got here, by the sheer beauty of it. Golden sand reaching into gorgeous clear ocean, secluded by cliff face and utterly deserted, as if it exists only for him.

That thought sends a creeping feeling down his spine and he shudders, involuntarily, looking around wildly for some clue as to where he is, what's going on.

What he sees is a woman, trudging towards him, barefoot in the sand. She's wearing a long, loose shirt that trails behind her in the slight breeze, and her hair is pulled back tight against her scalp. Something on her forehead glints in the sunlight—a tiny diamond between her eyes.

"How did you get here?" she asks him.

"I—I don't know," he stammers, still looking around him—everything is so beautiful, it's hard to focus on any one thing. And the longer he looks, the more familiar it seems. Not as though he's been here before, but as though he might have seen it, once, in a photograph perhaps, a long time ago.

"Come," she says, commanding him with a confident ease as she crooks one finger and beckons.

8. Will/Skandar/Anna – from the next part of the night starts here! Phone calls to the Dawn Treader set.

"It's 7 o'clock in the morning!"

"You keep saying that," Skandar says thoughtfully on the other end of the line. "Is it true? Because I'm sure I'm supposed to be on set by 7 today..."

Will and Anna both mentally do the maths once again, arriving at the same answer as before. Will's just about to inform Skandar of this, or maybe tell him to look at a clock or something, when Skandar swears.

"Oh look at that," he says, "I have another call coming through."

"Shocking," Anna grins.

There's some more shuffling around and then Skandar says, sounding slightly out-of-breath, "If you like, you can imagine that I'm getting dressed right now."

"Somewhat frantically, it sounds like," Anna adds.

"You could say that. It's not particularly sexy," he admits, and then there's a loud thump which is presumably him walking into and/or tripping over something as if to prove his point.

"We should go, maybe," Will says.

"Maybe they should just let me carry around my mobile all day and talk to you," Skandar counters.

"I'd like to see them explain that in the film," Anna says, but her smile has faded now and she looks sad and serious.

"I'd also like to see you pay for the phone bill," Will adds.

"Ugh," Skandar groans, sleepy and stressed. Will can hear knocking in the background. "You two and your practical...ness." Louder knocking. "JUST A MINUTE."

"We're gonna go," Will says. He grins at Anna, and gets a grin back.

"Ring tomorrow morning?" Skandar asks hopefully.

"If we haven't died from sexual frustration," Anna affirms.

9. Ben/lesbian!Georgie – an out-take from do it like a brother (do it like a dude), because I couldn't resist. And if, um, anyone would be interested in some sort of fic with the two of them crossdressing and Georgie possibly using her strap-on on him, I…could be persuaded. Just sayin'.

Georgie shows up at Ben's flat one morning, holding a dress and looking disgusted.

"That's...nice?" Ben hazards a guess. It is, sort of—it's turquoise, short, with frills on the skirt and a bow at the waist.

Georgie looks at him like he's insane. "I'm not wearing this," she says.

Ben blinks at her for a bit.

"Some designer sent it to me," she elaborates—but somehow vaguely, "I'm not wearing it though. I've decided."

"Okay," Ben replies cluelessly.

"I want to wear a suit instead," Georgie goes on, folding the dress over her arm in a businesslike sort of way. "Do you have any that I could try on?"

Less than twenty minutes later, Ben is sitting outside the closed door of his own bedroom as Georgie experiments with his wardrobe. He has consumed an entire cup of tea and at least half a packet of biscuits before she's finally done.

"Okay," she says from inside, so suddenly and after so much silence that Ben actually jumps. He drops a biscuit and swears, but Georgie ignores this response. "I think...I think this is kind of what I'm going for."

"Can I see?" Ben says, speaking into the slight crack in the door.

There's a long silence.

"Georgie?"

"No," she says in a small, hesitant voice. "What if it looks silly? God, it looks silly, doesn't it?"

"I don't know, you won't let me see."

"I don't want you to," she replies, "I think I might look ridiculous."

Ben frowns to himself, munching thoughtfully on a biscuit for a good few moments before remembering it's the one he dropped on the floor. He stops abruptly, and then catches sight of the discarded dress lying in a heap across the hall.

He has an idea.

"What if I look ridiculous too?" he asks.

"Well, that goes without saying," Georgie teases, "you often look ridiculous."

Ben sticks his tongue out at the door, and then puts his mug and biscuits aside and peels off his t-shirt with a sigh at what he's actually doing. He picks up the dress and it rustles as he pulls it over his head.

"What are you doing?" asks Georgie suspiciously from behind the door.

"Helping," Ben replies, voice muffled against fabric. "At least, I think so."

He wiggles around for a further minute or so, flailing his arms and bumping into the wall before realising there's a zip he didn't undo. Once that's sorted, he pulls the dress down properly and drops his trousers.

"Okay," he announces, "I assure you, there's no way you can possibly look ridiculous now."

"Are you wearing what I think you're wearing?" Georgie asks, and Ben can hear the smile in her voice.

Ben opens the door, and Georgie full-on bursts out laughing at the sight of him standing there in the doorway in a frilly turquoise mini-dress.

"You're right," she says through her giggles, "I no longer look ridiculous."

Ben looks at her. His suit is a little too big for her, but that was to be expected. They're a similar height now, though, so it's really just an issue of the shoulders of the shirt and jacket being a little too broad, and she's had to bunch up the waistband of the trousers with a tight belt. But despite that, she actually looks so gorgeous that he's slightly taken aback.

"I'm not sure you ever did," he manages.

She turns serious again, looking at herself in the mirror. "You think?" She pulls back her hair. "I wanted to look more, like, boyish, but my hair kind of ruins that..."

"Well," Ben says, and grabs a black top hat from where it sits on a large ceramic phrenology head on his desk, "this might help."

She giggles, bundling up her hair and letting him secure the hat on top. They both look in the mirror, and Ben cracks up at the sight of himself in the dress for a bit before they get back to the matter at hand. Georgie's gaze flickers to Ben, and she grins, slinging an arm over his shoulders and tilting her hat.

"We make a good couple, doll," she says gruffly, and Ben can't help but giggle in response.

"We should totally go like this to the premiere," she says, then, and sounds suspiciously serious.

"There is no way that's happening."

"Oh, but you look so pretty."

10. Other out-takes from do it like a brother. Idk I love that 'verse, it was hard to let go of.

"Hey, so," Will P. says nervously, as Georgie pulls him confidently close in front of the cameras, "you look...really pretty tonight."

"I wasn't really going for pretty," Georgie says off-handedly, "but thank you."

"Handsome?" he guesses, floundering, and Georgie snorts with laughter.

"Oh, Will," she says, and pats him.

**

Georgie is trotting over to Skandar on the red carpet and, admittedly, not really looking where she's going, when she walks smack-bang into Tilda coming the other way.

"Oh! Sorry!" she gasps.

Tilda's lips quirk, and then, slowly, she breaks into a smile. "Nice suit," she says, looking Georgie up and down.

Georgie grins at her. "Right back atcha."

**

"I'm not dancing with you," says Skandar. "We're in public."

"You don't dance with me in private, either," Will says mournfully, as the two of them watch Anna and Georgie begin to slowdance together.

"No," agrees Skandar, "because that would be weird."

Anna shoots a look back over her shoulder at them, anxiously, and they both grin at her. She looks vaguely irritated by this.

"They look like such a couple," Skandar says thoughtfully.

"Yeah, see? It's okay for them."

Skandar looks at Will sharply, and then gets to his feet with a sigh and holds out his arms. "Fine," he says, "but I'm leading, and if anyone asks, we're just mimicking the girls."

11. Will/Skandar – part of a fic I started writing a while ago and have no plans to finish. It's basically centered around girlfriends and denying their feelings for each other. I think I posted a bit of it before, there was spilling of champagne. In this bit Skandar is lending Will a t-shirt and Will is insulting Skandar's ex.

"I—hang on," says Skandar, watching in disbelief as Will pulls the t-shirt over his head as if he didn't even say anything. "What the fuck."

"Well, I couldn't say that when you were dating her, could I," Will says, voice muffled momentarily as he straightens the t-shirt out. It's a little bit tight on him, especially around the biceps, and Skandar decides he's probably noticing that because he's toying with the idea of punching Will in the face right now and his brain is trying to remind him how large Will's muscles are in an attempt to discourage him.

"You can't say that at all," Skandar says, gaping at him. "I loved her." Even to his own ears, it sounds a little bit far-fetched, but the way Will scoffs at him just isn't fair.

"You didn't, you fought with her all the time. I'm pretty sure you've used all those words I just did. And worse," Will reasons.

It's true. But. "Sometimes you fight with people because you love them," Skandar argues. "You probably wouldn't understand that."

Will rolls his eyes, but then seems to regret it. He pushes his fingers back through his hair and leans against the wall, crossing his arms. "Look, I didn't want to say anything. I tried not to. Even with you moping every time I see you. But you're the one who brought her up."

"Yes, and that clearly gave you permission to insult her," Skandar snorts, "that makes sense. I'm upset because I miss her, so you have to tell me what an idiot I am for missing her because she's such a bitch."

"See? She is a bitch. Also, I didn't call you an idiot," Will says calmly. "I'm just saying that you shouldn't waste time missing someone who treated you like shit."

"You're treating me like shit," Skandar says, aghast, because not much else comes to mind.

"Yes, see, but I'm allowed to do that sometimes, I'm not your girlfriend," says Will. "And you have permission not to miss me."