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Entry tags:
- british politics,
- fic,
- genre: drama,
- genre: romance,
- length: 00-01k,
- pairing: cameron/clegg,
- pairing: cooper/balls,
- pairing: the milibands,
- person: david cameron,
- person: david miliband,
- person: ed balls,
- person: ed miliband,
- person: nick clegg,
- person: yvette cooper,
- rating: pg,
- series: brothers,
- warning: incest
FICLETS: Stolen Moment, Interloper, Knifing a Foreign Secretary
I came across the cutest little accidental prompt on the meme - . Yes, a single full stop (UK) or period (US). For some reason, this gave me many ideas for ficlets, which I proceeded to happily write. There may be more eventually, but here are the three I've written so far! :D
Disclaimer: All works posted on this journal are creative works of fiction, composed of fictional characters inspired by the public personas of living people. No injury or disrespect is intended to the persons named. If you are one of the persons named in these stories, or if you know one of them personally, please bear in mind that stories such as these are written for entertainment value only, in full knowledge that they are not based in truth, and that ultimately they are a labor of love. Also, if you are one of these people, stop playing on the Internet and go run the country.
Title: Stolen Moment
Ship(s): David Cameron/Nick Clegg
Word Count: 127
Rating: PG, for implied sexual situation
Summary: David steals Nick's words.
Stolen Moment
'.,' Nick says.
David laughs, pressing a kiss to the inside of Nick's thigh. 'I've broken you,' he says indistinctly, muffled against warm, soft skin.
'.,' Nick says, and reaches a hand down, resting it languidly against David's cheek.
David leans into it, cherishing the feel of slightly rough fingertips.
Outside his office, the country waits for them to come back down to earth and resume working to solve its problems.
Inside his office, David has reduced Nick to eloquent silence. He catches the moment and holds it in his hands: the warm light of the sunbeam across Nick's knee, the slight rasp of Nick's breathing, the gentle whisper of Nick's suit against his fingers.
'.,' Nick says.
David smiles up at him, and says '.,' back.
~//~
Title: Interloper
Ship(s): Yvette Cooper/Ed Balls
Word Count: 462
Rating: PG, for language and implied sexual situations
Summary: Ed Miliband watches an interloper move in on his Yvette.
Interloper
Yvette and the interloper (Ed refuses to call him Ed, that's Ed's name) have been dating for two months now. They've only been sleeping together for three weeks, though. Ed just knows these things.
All right, so he knows them because he walked into the kitchen one morning to find the interloper, half-dressed, making himself a bowl of Ed's Weetabix. And because, while Ed was still gaping, Yvette walked in wearing the interloper's shirt, her hair rumpled and a hickey the size of Surrey rising on her neck. And because Yvette then proceeded to announce, 'This one can actually fuck worth beans, Ed, he's sticking around.'
(At least the interloper had choked on Ed's Weetabix, so Ed knows he's not the only one to find Yvette's forthrightness endearing but disconcerting.)
Now, three weeks later, Ed is only trying to read the Morning Star in peace, trying to ignore the way the interloper has made himself comfortable in Ed's favourite chair and turned the telly to the football game.
Yvette comes in with beer. 'Don't have three hands, Ed, sorry,' she says over her shoulder to him.
She leans over the interloper to put his bottle on the nearby table, and the interloper looks up from the football game to reach a clumsy but fond hand up to touch her cheek, crooking an inquisitive eyebrow as he does so.
She smiles down at him. 'Not today. Drink your beer.'
Ed does not rustle his paper to cover up an irrepressible snort of laughter, does not give full rein to that laughter inside his head at the look of hurt consternation on the interloper's face.
Yvette sees the look too. 'Period,' she says, succinctly, making an illustrative gesture. 'Messy. Watch your game, I think that tall one is going to score.'
The interloper's gaze is instantly diverted back to the telly, and Yvette smirks at the top of his head.
Ed isn't able to rustle his paper quickly enough this time, and his stifled laughter earns him a faux-stern glare from Yvette. She isn't able to hold even faux-sternness for long, though, and they share a look of amusement.
Suddenly, the football commentators wink out of existence. Ed and Yvette both look at the interloper in surprise.
'I don't mind,' the interloper says, and a slow, roguish smile spreads across his face.
After a moment's surprised silence, Yvette answers his smile with one of her own.
Before he vanishes through the doorway in the direction of Yvette's bedroom, the interloper looks back at Ed and gives him a triumphant wink, grin splitting his face.
Ed sighs, crumples the Morning Star vengefully, and gets up to steal the interloper's unopened beer.
He supposes he better learn to call him Ed.
~//~
Title: Knifing a Foreign Secretary
Ship(s): Ed Miliband/David Miliband
Word Count: 288
Rating: PG, adult themes
Warning: Implied incest.
Summary: It is to be a full stop, then.
Knifing a Foreign Secretary
The silence stretches around them.
Ed forces himself not to fidget. He wants to turn and run, he wants to go help Louise lay the table, he wants to escape out the front door and go back to Justine.
Instead, he stays where he is, watching the still planes of David’s face.
‘David,’ he says, hearing his own voice as if from a far distance, the hushed plea of it, as if in a cathedral praying to his god.
David looks at him, just looks, sunshine streaming through the curtains behind him, lighting him from behind like a stern saint in a stained-glass window.
‘David,’ Ed says again. He will not beg, will not give reasons, will not try to justify himself. He does not need to. David will be able to read it all in his eyes, just as he’s always been able to, just as he did that long-ago night, when he first reached down to palm Ed’s neediness.
David’s face is remote, eyes shuttering beyond increasingly thick walls, as if he’s drawing himself away from Ed without moving an inch.
Ed can hear David's boys playing in the next room, shouts of laughter and crashing of toy trains.
‘Good luck,’ David says at last, voice foreign and stiff and unfamiliar. Ed hears the almost-imperceptible crack in it, and feels a sick thrill to know that he will not be the only one to suffer.
It is to be a full stop, then, a full stop to everything they have shared over the years, to everything they have been to each other. Ed feels something inside of him tear, sees an answering flinch deep in David’s eyes.
He has broken his god as well as himself.
~//~
A/N: Comments are very much loved (and anon commenting is on), but never required. <33
Disclaimer: All works posted on this journal are creative works of fiction, composed of fictional characters inspired by the public personas of living people. No injury or disrespect is intended to the persons named. If you are one of the persons named in these stories, or if you know one of them personally, please bear in mind that stories such as these are written for entertainment value only, in full knowledge that they are not based in truth, and that ultimately they are a labor of love. Also, if you are one of these people, stop playing on the Internet and go run the country.
Title: Stolen Moment
Ship(s): David Cameron/Nick Clegg
Word Count: 127
Rating: PG, for implied sexual situation
Summary: David steals Nick's words.
Stolen Moment
'.,' Nick says.
David laughs, pressing a kiss to the inside of Nick's thigh. 'I've broken you,' he says indistinctly, muffled against warm, soft skin.
'.,' Nick says, and reaches a hand down, resting it languidly against David's cheek.
David leans into it, cherishing the feel of slightly rough fingertips.
Outside his office, the country waits for them to come back down to earth and resume working to solve its problems.
Inside his office, David has reduced Nick to eloquent silence. He catches the moment and holds it in his hands: the warm light of the sunbeam across Nick's knee, the slight rasp of Nick's breathing, the gentle whisper of Nick's suit against his fingers.
'.,' Nick says.
David smiles up at him, and says '.,' back.
~//~
Title: Interloper
Ship(s): Yvette Cooper/Ed Balls
Word Count: 462
Rating: PG, for language and implied sexual situations
Summary: Ed Miliband watches an interloper move in on his Yvette.
Interloper
Yvette and the interloper (Ed refuses to call him Ed, that's Ed's name) have been dating for two months now. They've only been sleeping together for three weeks, though. Ed just knows these things.
All right, so he knows them because he walked into the kitchen one morning to find the interloper, half-dressed, making himself a bowl of Ed's Weetabix. And because, while Ed was still gaping, Yvette walked in wearing the interloper's shirt, her hair rumpled and a hickey the size of Surrey rising on her neck. And because Yvette then proceeded to announce, 'This one can actually fuck worth beans, Ed, he's sticking around.'
(At least the interloper had choked on Ed's Weetabix, so Ed knows he's not the only one to find Yvette's forthrightness endearing but disconcerting.)
Now, three weeks later, Ed is only trying to read the Morning Star in peace, trying to ignore the way the interloper has made himself comfortable in Ed's favourite chair and turned the telly to the football game.
Yvette comes in with beer. 'Don't have three hands, Ed, sorry,' she says over her shoulder to him.
She leans over the interloper to put his bottle on the nearby table, and the interloper looks up from the football game to reach a clumsy but fond hand up to touch her cheek, crooking an inquisitive eyebrow as he does so.
She smiles down at him. 'Not today. Drink your beer.'
Ed does not rustle his paper to cover up an irrepressible snort of laughter, does not give full rein to that laughter inside his head at the look of hurt consternation on the interloper's face.
Yvette sees the look too. 'Period,' she says, succinctly, making an illustrative gesture. 'Messy. Watch your game, I think that tall one is going to score.'
The interloper's gaze is instantly diverted back to the telly, and Yvette smirks at the top of his head.
Ed isn't able to rustle his paper quickly enough this time, and his stifled laughter earns him a faux-stern glare from Yvette. She isn't able to hold even faux-sternness for long, though, and they share a look of amusement.
Suddenly, the football commentators wink out of existence. Ed and Yvette both look at the interloper in surprise.
'I don't mind,' the interloper says, and a slow, roguish smile spreads across his face.
After a moment's surprised silence, Yvette answers his smile with one of her own.
Before he vanishes through the doorway in the direction of Yvette's bedroom, the interloper looks back at Ed and gives him a triumphant wink, grin splitting his face.
Ed sighs, crumples the Morning Star vengefully, and gets up to steal the interloper's unopened beer.
He supposes he better learn to call him Ed.
~//~
Title: Knifing a Foreign Secretary
Ship(s): Ed Miliband/David Miliband
Word Count: 288
Rating: PG, adult themes
Warning: Implied incest.
Summary: It is to be a full stop, then.
Knifing a Foreign Secretary
The silence stretches around them.
Ed forces himself not to fidget. He wants to turn and run, he wants to go help Louise lay the table, he wants to escape out the front door and go back to Justine.
Instead, he stays where he is, watching the still planes of David’s face.
‘David,’ he says, hearing his own voice as if from a far distance, the hushed plea of it, as if in a cathedral praying to his god.
David looks at him, just looks, sunshine streaming through the curtains behind him, lighting him from behind like a stern saint in a stained-glass window.
‘David,’ Ed says again. He will not beg, will not give reasons, will not try to justify himself. He does not need to. David will be able to read it all in his eyes, just as he’s always been able to, just as he did that long-ago night, when he first reached down to palm Ed’s neediness.
David’s face is remote, eyes shuttering beyond increasingly thick walls, as if he’s drawing himself away from Ed without moving an inch.
Ed can hear David's boys playing in the next room, shouts of laughter and crashing of toy trains.
‘Good luck,’ David says at last, voice foreign and stiff and unfamiliar. Ed hears the almost-imperceptible crack in it, and feels a sick thrill to know that he will not be the only one to suffer.
It is to be a full stop, then, a full stop to everything they have shared over the years, to everything they have been to each other. Ed feels something inside of him tear, sees an answering flinch deep in David’s eyes.
He has broken his god as well as himself.
~//~
A/N: Comments are very much loved (and anon commenting is on), but never required. <33