Comment!Fic: The Challenge (Karl/OFC)
May. 25th, 2010 01:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
urbancateApparently there IS such a thing as a bad picture of Karl. And of course it needed some 'splaining by way of fic. As always and ever, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
affectingly says WRITE and I WRITE and then she gives me shiny things:
The Challenge
Later:
She reaches to the side table for her phone. Her super-fancy-touch-screen-does-everything-but-make-you-toast-in-the-morning phone.
"What are you doing," he asks into the skin just below her left shoulder blade. When he knows perfectly well what she's doing. Taking pictures all damn night. He thinks he can blame this on Pine.
"Scrolling through pictures, Karl. What does it look like I'm doing?"
"Wench." He's not going to pull it right out of her hands - he knows better - but he can certainly try his best to distract her. He moves to that purpose, fingers tracing patterns on her ribs, lips and tongue exploring her lower back.
"Troublemaker," she giggles a little - ticklish, yep, right there - and makes a half-hearted attempt to move out of his grasp.
"Ha. It's what you love about me."
"True." She squirms again - invitation this time - but still doesn't put down the damn phone.
"Should I be insulted?"
"Hm?" He can practically hear her brain trying to stay focused. Progress, he thinks. And time for more extreme measures.
He moves a hand to the curve of her belly, pulls her up and back into a perfect spoon, holds her there for a moment in silence, enjoys the hitch of her breath.
"You never play fair," she says, and it's not really a complaint.
"And you do?" He moves his hand lower, slowly, taking his time because he knows it drives her crazy.
"Keep proving my point, Kiwi."
"And what point is that, exactly?"
"I've already sent the picture."
"You what?"
"Sent. The. Picture. See?" She holds up the phone so he can see the screen more clearly. Dear lord, it's awful. In a really hilarious sort of way.
"That's it," he growls, grabbing the phone and tossing it aside. "You're gonna pay for this."
"Which makes my second point," she laughs as he shifts their position again until he is heavy on top of her and her hands are high over her head.
"And what's that?"
"That I win."
Earlier:
"I'm telling you, it can't be done," Chris states emphatically. "It's categorically impossible." Pine, opining, which is usually funny, except he's going on about Karl. To Karl's woman.
"Is that a challenge? I think I hear a challenge in there somewhere," she replies and she's fishing her phone - the one with the really great camera - out of her purse.
"I don't know."
"Oh, c'mon!"
"Fine. A bet."
"Stakes?"
"Bragging rights?"
"You think so small, Chris. I'm going to prove you wrong. And you're going to buy me a case of, hm, my favorite wine."
"That could be expensive, mate," Karl warns. But Chris is not deterred.
"Deal," he says.
They shake hands on it, right in front of him, and Karl rolls his eyes. They both look smug and he's not sure which is more insulting.
Then she hands him her beer - "Hold this for a second?" - and he's trying to not look irritated by the whole ridiculous conversation that just happened right in front of him - making bets on whether she can take a "bad" picture of him!
A click - camera sound effects - from the phone.
"I'm going to pretend this is not happening."
"I am so going to win this." She smiles at him rather brilliantly. He will realize later that that was the moment it was already too late.
affectingly says WRITE and I WRITE and then she gives me shiny things: The Challenge
Later:
She reaches to the side table for her phone. Her super-fancy-touch-screen-does-everything-but-make-you-toast-in-the-morning phone.
"What are you doing," he asks into the skin just below her left shoulder blade. When he knows perfectly well what she's doing. Taking pictures all damn night. He thinks he can blame this on Pine.
"Scrolling through pictures, Karl. What does it look like I'm doing?"
"Wench." He's not going to pull it right out of her hands - he knows better - but he can certainly try his best to distract her. He moves to that purpose, fingers tracing patterns on her ribs, lips and tongue exploring her lower back.
"Troublemaker," she giggles a little - ticklish, yep, right there - and makes a half-hearted attempt to move out of his grasp.
"Ha. It's what you love about me."
"True." She squirms again - invitation this time - but still doesn't put down the damn phone.
"Should I be insulted?"
"Hm?" He can practically hear her brain trying to stay focused. Progress, he thinks. And time for more extreme measures.
He moves a hand to the curve of her belly, pulls her up and back into a perfect spoon, holds her there for a moment in silence, enjoys the hitch of her breath.
"You never play fair," she says, and it's not really a complaint.
"And you do?" He moves his hand lower, slowly, taking his time because he knows it drives her crazy.
"Keep proving my point, Kiwi."
"And what point is that, exactly?"
"I've already sent the picture."
"You what?"
"Sent. The. Picture. See?" She holds up the phone so he can see the screen more clearly. Dear lord, it's awful. In a really hilarious sort of way.
"That's it," he growls, grabbing the phone and tossing it aside. "You're gonna pay for this."
"Which makes my second point," she laughs as he shifts their position again until he is heavy on top of her and her hands are high over her head.
"And what's that?"
"That I win."
Earlier:
"I'm telling you, it can't be done," Chris states emphatically. "It's categorically impossible." Pine, opining, which is usually funny, except he's going on about Karl. To Karl's woman.
"Is that a challenge? I think I hear a challenge in there somewhere," she replies and she's fishing her phone - the one with the really great camera - out of her purse.
"I don't know."
"Oh, c'mon!"
"Fine. A bet."
"Stakes?"
"Bragging rights?"
"You think so small, Chris. I'm going to prove you wrong. And you're going to buy me a case of, hm, my favorite wine."
"That could be expensive, mate," Karl warns. But Chris is not deterred.
"Deal," he says.
They shake hands on it, right in front of him, and Karl rolls his eyes. They both look smug and he's not sure which is more insulting.
Then she hands him her beer - "Hold this for a second?" - and he's trying to not look irritated by the whole ridiculous conversation that just happened right in front of him - making bets on whether she can take a "bad" picture of him!
A click - camera sound effects - from the phone.
"I'm going to pretend this is not happening."
"I am so going to win this." She smiles at him rather brilliantly. He will realize later that that was the moment it was already too late.
