yousei-san (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
flair) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
metamorphosis2010-05-18 05:22 pm
flair) wrote in metamorphosis2010-05-18 05:22 pm
Entry tags:
104;
Title: Castaway
Characters: Spain, England
Rating: PG
For LJ's 50scenes' prompt 'Twist'
To be stranded on an island was one thing – and yes, Arthur had indeed suffered much worse treatment – but to be stranded on an island with your enemy was another.
Arthur glances beside him and moves closer to the fire, looks into it and feels the warmth billowing off. Behind him, Antonio’s asleep, curled up a little ways away from the fire and not shivering unlike Arthur, who (even so close to warmth) feels wet and sticky and cold, from the inside out. He’s almost tempted to sleep against his foe-turned-ally (for the moment) and steal that natural warmth, as he’s stolen everything else, but resists it if only to save dignity in the morning.
He lies down and presses his cheek to the hot sand, kept so from the sun by the fire, closes his eyes and sees lights dancing behind his eyelids. He feels something move across his neck, feels lips drag up to the back of his head and arms wrap around him, pull him back and away from the heat of flames. Antonio smiles into his neck and brushes off some sand, voice soft and light (as if he was talking to a small child!) that if Arthur strayed any closer to the fire, he would go up in an inferno and there was no recovering from burns like that.
Arthur doesn’t try to move; he stays, feels the warmth of sun personified seep into him and repressed a smile of victory when Antonio shivers.
Characters: Spain, England
Rating: PG
For LJ's 50scenes' prompt 'Twist'
To be stranded on an island was one thing – and yes, Arthur had indeed suffered much worse treatment – but to be stranded on an island with your enemy was another.
Arthur glances beside him and moves closer to the fire, looks into it and feels the warmth billowing off. Behind him, Antonio’s asleep, curled up a little ways away from the fire and not shivering unlike Arthur, who (even so close to warmth) feels wet and sticky and cold, from the inside out. He’s almost tempted to sleep against his foe-turned-ally (for the moment) and steal that natural warmth, as he’s stolen everything else, but resists it if only to save dignity in the morning.
He lies down and presses his cheek to the hot sand, kept so from the sun by the fire, closes his eyes and sees lights dancing behind his eyelids. He feels something move across his neck, feels lips drag up to the back of his head and arms wrap around him, pull him back and away from the heat of flames. Antonio smiles into his neck and brushes off some sand, voice soft and light (as if he was talking to a small child!) that if Arthur strayed any closer to the fire, he would go up in an inferno and there was no recovering from burns like that.
Arthur doesn’t try to move; he stays, feels the warmth of sun personified seep into him and repressed a smile of victory when Antonio shivers.