conjure_lass (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
conjure_lass) wrote2010-12-30 04:43 pm
conjure_lass) wrote2010-12-30 04:43 pm
Entry tags:
Happy Near Year!
Title: What Are you Doing New Year's Eve?
Author: Me!![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
conjure_lass
Pairing: New York x London
Author's Note: Okay, so this is a gift for my palaeld to celebrate the New Year. I used her original Hetalia characters New York and London. Please take time to read her lovely comics, as they're very fun, and amazingly clever. She's the only person who's ever made city-tans that I not only approved of, but really loved. Towards the end of the story, feel free to listen to this song.
So! Here you go! Happy New Year!
December 31st, 2010
Gramercy Park Hotel: 11:30pm
Everything had been going so well, too.
His guests were laughing, the lights were twinkling, the drinks were flowing, the food was spectacular, and the music was fresh and classic all at once. Everything had been perfect! Until now. Now it was nearly midnight and New York hadn’t been able to find his date for the last half hour, becoming more and more desperate as the seconds trickled into minutes leading to the big finale. Now he was starting to get nervous. Who the hell was he supposed to kiss if he couldn’t find London?! Sure, there were lots of people who might have wanted to be pressed up against him when the clock struck twelve, but he wasn’t interested in any of them.
And that begged the question: where was the person he was interested in?!
He’d started his search sometime around eleven o’clock, concern nibbling at his gut when he’d come off the dance floor and hadn’t been able to find the older city anywhere in the clumps of guests scattered around the room. In fact, when he thought about it, New York hadn’t had more than a few fleeting glimpses of London the entire night other than watching him sort of half-heartedly socializing, a wistful expression on his face as he meandered from group to group. There had obviously been something bothering him, but New York had been too busy hosting the party to pull him aside and demand to know what the problem was.
Now he was sort of regretting that he hadn’t just gone and done it anyway. It wasn’t as though everyone didn’t know how to have a good time without him around to lead the way.
“Hello?” he called softly, glancing from side to side as he stepped up into the glassed off garden outside the main bar, the lights of the terraced ceiling like suspended fireflies above him. The patio was empty save for a lone figure standing near a towering window, instantly recognizable as the long shadows threw his flaxen hair into sharp relief, darkening his dove gray suit until it seemed almost black. Motionless he stood, his forehead pressed against the glass, eyes closed as his breaths fogged the glass in repetitive puffs.
London.
“What are you doing out here?” New York paused a few feet from where London was standing, eyebrows coming together in irritation when he wasn’t immediately answered. He hated being ignored, especially by the one person who was supposed to be paying the most attention to him. He liked that attention. “Hey, what’s wrong? Have you been out here all night? You’re missing the party…”
“I am?” London’s gaze slid to him briefly, almost coldly, before he pushed away from the windowpane to drag a fingertip through the condensation that his breath had left behind. “I honestly hadn’t noticed.”
New York cocked his head to the side, blinking rapidly as his temper began to flare. What the hell was that supposed to mean?! Without warning, his feet were moving him across the room to London’s side where he snatched the fingers that were sketching in the mist to tug at them and bring their faces close. “You have been sulking all damn night! What’s your problem?”
Eyes narrowing, London twisted his hand free and laughed, a barked, high-pitched sound that grated against New York’s ears like nails on a blackboard, made him wince. It hurt, because London’s laughter was always supposed to be throaty and thick like pancake syrup at six-thirty in the morning after you’d had sex all night and could barely move from being so sore but were determined to have breakfast anyway. Or like a bottle of cold water straight from the fridge after you’d been running in Central Park for an hour in the middle of July. Or like a sweet string of saltwater taffy that gets stuck in your teeth while you watch the ocean churn from the docks of Coney Island.
Not like that.
“I haven’t been pouting!” London crossed his arms and looked pointedly at the wall, snorting in a way that New York thought was adorable despite his frustration. “Why would I be sulking over you? I’m not sulking!”
“I…never said anything about...” New York mumbled to himself, his momentary anger fizzling out as the first tendrils of understanding began to take root. He didn’t have all the pieces just yet, but the picture was definitely coming together. Reaching out, he curled his palm against London’s cheek and let his thumb trail in tiny circles across the flushed skin, silently coaxing the older city into looking at him. “What’s really bothering you? Hmm? No bullshit.”
Seemingly defeated by the affection, London took a deep breath, letting it trickle out slowly before rocking forward on his heels until their foreheads slid against one another’s. That ageless gaze was a little glassy up close, but New York attributed it to the bottle of port that the blond had been making inroads in most of the evening. He wasn’t exactly sober himself. Grinning, he trailed his arms soothingly down London’s sides, wrapping them around his waist to settle at the small of his back and give him a squeeze. The returned smile, while a little weak, still managed to make New York’s heart shudder and tug in ways that he loved and hated all at once.
Because no one should have had that much control over him. No one. And yet there that someone was, giving him a big dose of the same light brown eyes that had made him feel like a popsicle sitting on a hot sidewalk for centuries. So embarrassing.
And he didn’t have a clue what to do about it. Just like always.
“Sorry…I’m just a little pissed. It’s New Year’s, you know? You should go back inside. There are probably a dozen more people waiting to dance with you,” London said with a sad smile, his voice affected, deeper than usual and unsteady. His actions belied his words, however, as he drew his arms up to circle around New York’s neck, pulling them closer until their bodies lined up like a single seam of heat with only enough room between them to draw breath.
“More?” Chuckling into London’s ear, New York grazed his lips along the lobe, smiling at the shiver he gained in return. So the unfocused picture had finally become clear! Or as clear as it was going to get when they’d both been boozing for the past six hours. “Ahhh, I see. Jealous thing…”
“I’m not jealous!” London protested loudly into the folds of New York’s suit jacket where his face was currently entrenched. The older city's blush was a nearly palpable thing, rolling off his skin in almost tangible waves, giving him away. It made New York chuckle as he tickled down London's back, drummed a little rhythm against his spine.
“I’m not!”
“Will, come on.” Bussing the side of other city’s head with his own, New York waited as seconds ticked by in silence while London apparently warred with himself on whether or not to say what they both already knew.
“Oh, sod it all,” A long-suffering sigh and London was finally glanced up from New York’s shoulder to give him a very serious stare, “you haven’t danced with me once all night.”
Spurts of laughter bubbled up instantly from New York’s belly at the confession, loud and happy and nearly enough to drown out the other city’s offended sputtering and hissing. Nearly, but not quite. (“You utter arsehole! Thoughtless lout! Unfeeling bastard!”) But regardless of his amusement, he still managed to control himself enough to keep hold of London’s wriggling body until they’d both sufficiently calmed down.
Raising his palms, New York took that stupid blond head in his hands and gave it a firm shake before leaning back to flick the tip of London’s nose. “Man, what a greedy jerk! As if I wouldn’t save you for midnight!”
Looking suitably affronted for a moment, London drew back to cradle his nose, his mouth hanging open in shock. A beat. Another beat. Their eyes met over his clasped hands. A slow grin quirked the corners of his lips, blossomed into a full-blown smile, melted into laughter, and finally shook his whole body until he was a mass of semi-drunken giggles.
Now, that was better.
“Be that as it may,” London whispered when his laughter had ebbed, raising an eyebrow before reaching down to tap New York’s watch purposefully with his fingertip, “I believe you owe me a dance, sir.”
Peering through the shadows at his watch face, New York’s gaze widened to the size of coffee cups upon seeing the time. Five minutes to midnight! Hurriedly he began patting himself down, eventually tugging his Ipod (always kept on hand for emergency escapes) from a pocket and furiously scrolling through the list of songs while ignoring London’s somewhat dubious expression. It would all be worth it when he found…where was it…there! The perfect song! With that out of the way, he smiled and dangled the earbuds between them, reaching up to press one into his own ear and the other into London’s before depositing the Ipod back in his pocket.
Press ‘play’ and they were ready to go!
“C’mere,” he purred, holding out his arms even though London wasn’t more than a few inches away.
It was nothing fancy. No waltz, no box step, no fox trot, just the two of them in each other’s arms as London pressed up against his body, wrapping New York in his embrace and holding tightly as they began to sway. At first New York watched the sparkling lights of the city outside the windowpane as they danced a slow circle, but eventually he gave that up and just closed his eyes, burying his nose in the thick hair behind London’s ear and allowing himself to forget the world.
Just for now. Five minutes wouldn’t kill anybody, would it?
And so breathless moments passed while all that existed was them, the smell of London’s girly-ass shampoo, the feel of London’s fingertips drawing random patterns down his spine, the sound of London’s baritone humming along with Ella Fitzgerald, the taste of London’s skin when New York pressed a kiss to the shell of his ear. New York could feel his pulse speeding up, his body becoming warm and humid, his clothes becoming a little sticky as the temperature rose between them.
The world was narrowing down, and while he couldn’t help but feel a little stupid and sappy about it, he couldn’t deny how much he liked it. At least he couldn't deny it to himself...everyone else he could deny it to just fine.
“Will.” He tried vainly to bring the other man closer somehow, the sounds of champagne bottles popping, of the rowdy countdown to midnight and the eventual uproar that followed, going completely unnoticed around him. Instead, New York found himself smiling like a complete dunce, refusing to open his eyes despite the fact that the song was over…he probably looked like an idiot…he really should open his eyes…but…
“Worth the wait,” London said quietly, interrupting his bemused thoughts, and New York could feel him start nibbling along his throat, giving him enough encouragement to open his eyes and take in the scene. (London: lovestruck, bedroom eyes, a blush so sweet that it would probably taste like candies if New York were to reach out with his tongue and give it a lick.) It was Oscar worthy. Hollywood’s finest. Romeo and Juliet eat your heart out.
“Yeah?”
“Definitely.” A barely there kiss, a brush of skin more than anything else and then London’s lips were detouring, his tongue dipping into the corner of New York’s mouth like a honey pot, eyes open the entire time, gazes locked, so sexy. Oh yeah, just like that.
“To another decade?” London’s fuzzy eyebrows rose like a champagne flute.
“To my suite?” New York countered, smirking and reaching down to run appreciative hands over the curves of London’s ass.
That throaty laugh, a little naughty, the one that sounded like pancake syrup. “Well, now, I don’t know that my stamina is up to an entire decade locked in your suite…but we’ll do what we can, hmm?”
“Definitely.”
So there we have it! My last bit of writing before 2011! I'm going out tomorrow night, so I hope you all have a great time! Stay *SAFE*, because you know there are shitloads of people out there acting like morons on New Year's.
Loves!
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX
Cherry!
Author: Me!
conjure_lassPairing: New York x London
Author's Note: Okay, so this is a gift for my pal
aeld to celebrate the New Year. I used her original Hetalia characters New York and London. Please take time to read her lovely comics, as they're very fun, and amazingly clever. She's the only person who's ever made city-tans that I not only approved of, but really loved. Towards the end of the story, feel free to listen to this song. So! Here you go! Happy New Year!
December 31st, 2010
Gramercy Park Hotel: 11:30pm
Everything had been going so well, too.
His guests were laughing, the lights were twinkling, the drinks were flowing, the food was spectacular, and the music was fresh and classic all at once. Everything had been perfect! Until now. Now it was nearly midnight and New York hadn’t been able to find his date for the last half hour, becoming more and more desperate as the seconds trickled into minutes leading to the big finale. Now he was starting to get nervous. Who the hell was he supposed to kiss if he couldn’t find London?! Sure, there were lots of people who might have wanted to be pressed up against him when the clock struck twelve, but he wasn’t interested in any of them.
And that begged the question: where was the person he was interested in?!
He’d started his search sometime around eleven o’clock, concern nibbling at his gut when he’d come off the dance floor and hadn’t been able to find the older city anywhere in the clumps of guests scattered around the room. In fact, when he thought about it, New York hadn’t had more than a few fleeting glimpses of London the entire night other than watching him sort of half-heartedly socializing, a wistful expression on his face as he meandered from group to group. There had obviously been something bothering him, but New York had been too busy hosting the party to pull him aside and demand to know what the problem was.
Now he was sort of regretting that he hadn’t just gone and done it anyway. It wasn’t as though everyone didn’t know how to have a good time without him around to lead the way.
“Hello?” he called softly, glancing from side to side as he stepped up into the glassed off garden outside the main bar, the lights of the terraced ceiling like suspended fireflies above him. The patio was empty save for a lone figure standing near a towering window, instantly recognizable as the long shadows threw his flaxen hair into sharp relief, darkening his dove gray suit until it seemed almost black. Motionless he stood, his forehead pressed against the glass, eyes closed as his breaths fogged the glass in repetitive puffs.
London.
“What are you doing out here?” New York paused a few feet from where London was standing, eyebrows coming together in irritation when he wasn’t immediately answered. He hated being ignored, especially by the one person who was supposed to be paying the most attention to him. He liked that attention. “Hey, what’s wrong? Have you been out here all night? You’re missing the party…”
“I am?” London’s gaze slid to him briefly, almost coldly, before he pushed away from the windowpane to drag a fingertip through the condensation that his breath had left behind. “I honestly hadn’t noticed.”
New York cocked his head to the side, blinking rapidly as his temper began to flare. What the hell was that supposed to mean?! Without warning, his feet were moving him across the room to London’s side where he snatched the fingers that were sketching in the mist to tug at them and bring their faces close. “You have been sulking all damn night! What’s your problem?”
Eyes narrowing, London twisted his hand free and laughed, a barked, high-pitched sound that grated against New York’s ears like nails on a blackboard, made him wince. It hurt, because London’s laughter was always supposed to be throaty and thick like pancake syrup at six-thirty in the morning after you’d had sex all night and could barely move from being so sore but were determined to have breakfast anyway. Or like a bottle of cold water straight from the fridge after you’d been running in Central Park for an hour in the middle of July. Or like a sweet string of saltwater taffy that gets stuck in your teeth while you watch the ocean churn from the docks of Coney Island.
Not like that.
“I haven’t been pouting!” London crossed his arms and looked pointedly at the wall, snorting in a way that New York thought was adorable despite his frustration. “Why would I be sulking over you? I’m not sulking!”
“I…never said anything about...” New York mumbled to himself, his momentary anger fizzling out as the first tendrils of understanding began to take root. He didn’t have all the pieces just yet, but the picture was definitely coming together. Reaching out, he curled his palm against London’s cheek and let his thumb trail in tiny circles across the flushed skin, silently coaxing the older city into looking at him. “What’s really bothering you? Hmm? No bullshit.”
Seemingly defeated by the affection, London took a deep breath, letting it trickle out slowly before rocking forward on his heels until their foreheads slid against one another’s. That ageless gaze was a little glassy up close, but New York attributed it to the bottle of port that the blond had been making inroads in most of the evening. He wasn’t exactly sober himself. Grinning, he trailed his arms soothingly down London’s sides, wrapping them around his waist to settle at the small of his back and give him a squeeze. The returned smile, while a little weak, still managed to make New York’s heart shudder and tug in ways that he loved and hated all at once.
Because no one should have had that much control over him. No one. And yet there that someone was, giving him a big dose of the same light brown eyes that had made him feel like a popsicle sitting on a hot sidewalk for centuries. So embarrassing.
And he didn’t have a clue what to do about it. Just like always.
“Sorry…I’m just a little pissed. It’s New Year’s, you know? You should go back inside. There are probably a dozen more people waiting to dance with you,” London said with a sad smile, his voice affected, deeper than usual and unsteady. His actions belied his words, however, as he drew his arms up to circle around New York’s neck, pulling them closer until their bodies lined up like a single seam of heat with only enough room between them to draw breath.
“More?” Chuckling into London’s ear, New York grazed his lips along the lobe, smiling at the shiver he gained in return. So the unfocused picture had finally become clear! Or as clear as it was going to get when they’d both been boozing for the past six hours. “Ahhh, I see. Jealous thing…”
“I’m not jealous!” London protested loudly into the folds of New York’s suit jacket where his face was currently entrenched. The older city's blush was a nearly palpable thing, rolling off his skin in almost tangible waves, giving him away. It made New York chuckle as he tickled down London's back, drummed a little rhythm against his spine.
“I’m not!”
“Will, come on.” Bussing the side of other city’s head with his own, New York waited as seconds ticked by in silence while London apparently warred with himself on whether or not to say what they both already knew.
“Oh, sod it all,” A long-suffering sigh and London was finally glanced up from New York’s shoulder to give him a very serious stare, “you haven’t danced with me once all night.”
Spurts of laughter bubbled up instantly from New York’s belly at the confession, loud and happy and nearly enough to drown out the other city’s offended sputtering and hissing. Nearly, but not quite. (“You utter arsehole! Thoughtless lout! Unfeeling bastard!”) But regardless of his amusement, he still managed to control himself enough to keep hold of London’s wriggling body until they’d both sufficiently calmed down.
Raising his palms, New York took that stupid blond head in his hands and gave it a firm shake before leaning back to flick the tip of London’s nose. “Man, what a greedy jerk! As if I wouldn’t save you for midnight!”
Looking suitably affronted for a moment, London drew back to cradle his nose, his mouth hanging open in shock. A beat. Another beat. Their eyes met over his clasped hands. A slow grin quirked the corners of his lips, blossomed into a full-blown smile, melted into laughter, and finally shook his whole body until he was a mass of semi-drunken giggles.
Now, that was better.
“Be that as it may,” London whispered when his laughter had ebbed, raising an eyebrow before reaching down to tap New York’s watch purposefully with his fingertip, “I believe you owe me a dance, sir.”
Peering through the shadows at his watch face, New York’s gaze widened to the size of coffee cups upon seeing the time. Five minutes to midnight! Hurriedly he began patting himself down, eventually tugging his Ipod (always kept on hand for emergency escapes) from a pocket and furiously scrolling through the list of songs while ignoring London’s somewhat dubious expression. It would all be worth it when he found…where was it…there! The perfect song! With that out of the way, he smiled and dangled the earbuds between them, reaching up to press one into his own ear and the other into London’s before depositing the Ipod back in his pocket.
Press ‘play’ and they were ready to go!
“C’mere,” he purred, holding out his arms even though London wasn’t more than a few inches away.
It was nothing fancy. No waltz, no box step, no fox trot, just the two of them in each other’s arms as London pressed up against his body, wrapping New York in his embrace and holding tightly as they began to sway. At first New York watched the sparkling lights of the city outside the windowpane as they danced a slow circle, but eventually he gave that up and just closed his eyes, burying his nose in the thick hair behind London’s ear and allowing himself to forget the world.
Just for now. Five minutes wouldn’t kill anybody, would it?
And so breathless moments passed while all that existed was them, the smell of London’s girly-ass shampoo, the feel of London’s fingertips drawing random patterns down his spine, the sound of London’s baritone humming along with Ella Fitzgerald, the taste of London’s skin when New York pressed a kiss to the shell of his ear. New York could feel his pulse speeding up, his body becoming warm and humid, his clothes becoming a little sticky as the temperature rose between them.
The world was narrowing down, and while he couldn’t help but feel a little stupid and sappy about it, he couldn’t deny how much he liked it. At least he couldn't deny it to himself...everyone else he could deny it to just fine.
“Will.” He tried vainly to bring the other man closer somehow, the sounds of champagne bottles popping, of the rowdy countdown to midnight and the eventual uproar that followed, going completely unnoticed around him. Instead, New York found himself smiling like a complete dunce, refusing to open his eyes despite the fact that the song was over…he probably looked like an idiot…he really should open his eyes…but…
“Worth the wait,” London said quietly, interrupting his bemused thoughts, and New York could feel him start nibbling along his throat, giving him enough encouragement to open his eyes and take in the scene. (London: lovestruck, bedroom eyes, a blush so sweet that it would probably taste like candies if New York were to reach out with his tongue and give it a lick.) It was Oscar worthy. Hollywood’s finest. Romeo and Juliet eat your heart out.
“Yeah?”
“Definitely.” A barely there kiss, a brush of skin more than anything else and then London’s lips were detouring, his tongue dipping into the corner of New York’s mouth like a honey pot, eyes open the entire time, gazes locked, so sexy. Oh yeah, just like that.
“To another decade?” London’s fuzzy eyebrows rose like a champagne flute.
“To my suite?” New York countered, smirking and reaching down to run appreciative hands over the curves of London’s ass.
That throaty laugh, a little naughty, the one that sounded like pancake syrup. “Well, now, I don’t know that my stamina is up to an entire decade locked in your suite…but we’ll do what we can, hmm?”
“Definitely.”
So there we have it! My last bit of writing before 2011! I'm going out tomorrow night, so I hope you all have a great time! Stay *SAFE*, because you know there are shitloads of people out there acting like morons on New Year's.
Loves!
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX
Cherry!