simarillion (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
simarillion) wrote2009-05-05 12:59 am
simarillion) wrote2009-05-05 12:59 am
Entry tags:
FIC: "A Room with a View" (4/5)
Title: Room with a View
Author:simarillion
Fandom: RPS
Pairing: Shia LaBeouf/Zac Efron
Rating: R (overall)
Beta: draft version (unbetaed)
Word Count: 2451 (total: 9929)
Warning: AU, Voyeurism, M/M
Summary: When Shia gets grounded for a month by his dad, he starts spending his time watching his neighbours. One neighbour is of particular interest to him.
Disclaimer: Some of the persons mentioned are real, but there’s nothing real about the story. The events and the interactions are wholly invented, and I do not claim to know anything about the real persons, or their private lives.
This story is made up, and I do not claim to know anything about the characters privat life, and/or their sexual preferences. No money is made with the writing of this piece of fiction.
Author’s Note: This is actually a fic inspired by Shia’s Disturbia. When the question arose about the interest in Disturbia slash, I thought to myself, what if Shia hadn’t watched his young female but his young male neighbour? Here is what might have happened, RPS-style.
Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five
Part Four
After dinner, which Zac had once more with the LaBeoufs, the two boys go back upstairs. Shia had promised in the afternoon, that today is home video day at the young couple’s house, and neither of them wants to miss anything of it.
“Your dad was kind of quiet today.” Zac is already settled in his chair at the window. “Maybe I should have had dinner at home.”
“Naw, my parents had an argument last night, and my mum won. He always sulks after that for a couple of days. It’s got nothing to do with you.” Shia drags another chair next to the one already standing there, and sits down.
“Okay.”
They sit silently for the next couple of minutes, eyes glued to the open bedroom window of the other house. The actors of this night’s entertainment have already arrived in the afternoon, but Shia knows that they won’t start until their evening routine is complete, and the rest of the evening and the night are at their disposal.
When the woman walks into the bedroom, dressed only in a nurse costume, and prepares the tripod for the camera, Zac and Shia sit up, and watch her giving tonight’s setting some last minute touches. She is soon joined by her lover, who wears a white doctor’s coat, and a stethoscope.
“Let’s do the voices!” is Zac’s amused suggestion. “I’ll even do her part.”
Before Shia can give any kind of response to that, the scene starts, and Zac is totally with them.
“Uh, Doctor, there is something wrong with me.” The nurse is acting all shy and coy. “I need the help of a strong man, who can take care of me.”
The high falsetto, and the words are just hilarious, but they also have the unfortunate side-effect of turning Shia on. It’s far too easy, to imagine Zac and him acting out the scene.
“Please doctor; there is something wrong with me.” The other boy is apparently enjoying himself, making up words which fit the play being shown in the bedroom. “Come on, Shia. It’s your turn, you do the guy’s part.”
He swallows hard, and forces himself to direct his eyes away from the enticing sight right next to him, and look back over to the young couple’s house. In the meantime the scene has continued, and the doctor seems to be spanking the nurse, for some reason Shia doesn’t really get.
“Uh, we’ll have to test the elasticity of your skin,” he stammers.
“Oh, please doctor, do more tests on me.” The sentence is delivered in a breathy voice, and Shia can’t help himself. He blushes deeply, his temperature rises, and his cock starts to harden.
The unfair thing about all of this is that Zac notices his reaction. The other boy stops his nurse impersonation, and watches Shia closely, who just wishes the earth would swallow him whole.
“Shia?” is the tentative question.
“Uh, it’s kind of hot tonight.” Even to his own ears, the excuse sounds stupid.
He doesn’t dare to look up from the hands in his lap, for the fear of the expression on the other’s face. Shia waits, he waits for the other boy to freak out and run screaming.
What happens next is something that takes him totally by surprise.
There is the sound of a chair moving, and Shia already expects to hear the sound of a door closing, when suddenly a shadow looms over him, and his field of vision is intruded upon by the sight of another person’s crotch. He snaps his head up, and his eyes are met by two laughing sky blue eyes of the boy straddling his lap.
“You know, I noticed you sitting at the window and spying on me, days ago. I thought, that my coming here, and asking you about watching me, would get you to tell me about why you do it, but from your behaviour so far, and your reaction to certain things I’ve done, I think I have a fair idea about the reason for that.” Zac wraps his arms around Shia’s neck and leans closer to him, his lips brushing the shell of his ear. “Am I right?”
In his shocked state, Shia panics. He almost shoves the other boy to the floor, and gets up from the chair. “I think it would be better you left for today.”
He wants the other boy, but the sudden reality of his wishes and dreams, just throws him. Never in his life has he imagined the moment where Zac finds out about Shia’s crush to go like this. It’s just so surreal, and a little bit too much, too soon.
“What? Why?” There’s confusion and hurt in the voice. “I thought that you…”
He can feel the muscles in his back start to stiffen; it feels like he’s developing a shield against the eyes that are fixed on him.
“Please,” his voice is getting weaker with every word he says, and a giant lump is growing in his throat. “Leave.”
The nervousness makes it impossible for him to look the other boy in the eye, and so he keeps staring at everything but Zac, who most likely thinks him to be an ass, and an idiot.
When he hears the footsteps into the direction of the door, and then the door open and close, he wants to cry, and sigh with relief all at once. Shia’s glad that he doesn’t have to deal with the situation he’s been dreading for days now, but at the same time he feels like something died inside his chest. He’s ruined his chances with Zac forever.
It’s like his whole body is numb, and the outside world can’t reach him. Shia keeps standing in the middle of the room. He suddenly realizes that his breathing is fast and shallow, and he tries his best to calm down, and get everything under control again.
Problem is though, that nothing will be under control again. Everything has changed with what just happened in this room between him and Zac. It’s not like a lot happened, but the things that did, were important enough to have him close to a panic attack.
As he thinks about how everything turned out, he also tries to find out the reason for his reaction to the advances the other boy made. It is true that Shia has been appreciating the male body, his neighbour’s body in particular, and it is true that he wants Zac, but the problem is that knowing in theory that you are interested in guys, and making out with one, are two very different things.
Exhausted from the mental stress of the day, he trudges to his bed, and falls down onto it. Now, that he’s hidden from sight, tears start coming, and he cries into the sheets. They are not tears of sadness or heartbreak, no, they’re tears of frustration and anger. He’s angry with himself, and he’s more than a little frustrated with how poorly he dealt with the situation.
Long after he’s stopped crying, he stays lying on the bed. His body is tired and heavy, and even thinking about moving seems too exhausting. Brooding, and moping, is much more to his liking, and less taxing by far.
It’s the sound of his parents preparing for bed which has him get up. If he stays buried in the bed any longer, he’ll turn into a girl, doodling broken hearts, and writing bad love poems. Being a guy, he has to deal with disappointment and grief, in a manly way, booze and hookers. Well, more like soda and movies in his case.
“Good night, sweetheart,” his mum says, and hugs him.
Shia watches her disappear behind the bedroom door, and then he makes for the living room downstairs. Before he starts his movie marathon though, Shia gets a two litre bottle of coke, and one of Fanta, and a big glass of peanut butter.
His treasures are stashed on the couch, right next to him, and then he starts zapping through the channels, until he finds an old horror movie. The monsters look totally unreal, the acting is horrendous, and the amounts of ketchup blood used, ought to cover the yearly ketchup consumption of all Californian Mc Ds.
The non-existent plot is just enough to keep the actors going, but that’s about it. After the end of the movie, one two litre bottle is finished, and Shia’s eaten about half the glass of the peanut butter. His stomach cramps, and twists, but he doesn’t stop.
The next horror movie starts, but he zaps on, and finds a John Wayne Western.
After this one, the whole peanut butter glass is empty, and the second two litre bottle is finished as well. The end of the movie is accompanied by Shia’s mad dash for the bathroom, where his upset stomach gets rid of everything he ate for the last hours.
Shia decides that soda, junk food, and old movies are not the right combination. He switches the TV off, and heads back upstairs to his room, to continue with his moping.
The room is dark, and for the first time in the last one and a half weeks, he closes the blinds without checking the neighbours out, without watching Zac.
Tangled in his sheets, he tries to not think about the other boy, but his success with that is none existent. Instead of banning the images of Zac straddling his lap from his mind, his treacherous brain starts to concoct stories and plots of what might have been, had Shia reacted any different than he did.
He can’t help but get aroused by the thought of the two of them together, making out. Like so many times in the last week, he imagines the touches and the fumbling, panting breaths, and the sight of the other boy as he’s flushed with desire and reaching out for him, only Shia being able to help him out.
When the fantasy gets too hot, he tugs down his shorts, buries deeper into the mattress, and starts grinding down into the bed, his whole body aching with the need for more, with the need for all those things he only ever thinks about.
A groan escapes him, and Shia’s fingers claw into the sheets as he speeds his rubbing up, desperate for release. He feels feverish hot, and his face and body are flushed.
The release comes as a disappointment. Even though there is the sweet pain of finding what he tried to achieve, Shia feels bereft and incomplete. There should be more than just his panting breath into the bedding, and the sticky wetness under him.
Frustrated with his dissatisfaction, he rolls away from the stain he caused. Lying on his back, his breath slows down, and the sweat on his body starts to cool on his hot skin.
Shia sits up, his eyes staring into the darkness of his room. The silence which greets him has him reach for the cover, and wrap it around his shoulders. His shorts are tangled somewhere mid-thigh, but he’s too lazy to either pull them back up, or take them off completely.
For quite some time he stays in this position, and doesn’t move. His head is, for the first time in many days and nights, completely empty.
The sudden knocking on his window takes him by surprise and it takes until the knocking starts a second time, that he realizes that the sound is real.
Curious, but also still a little bit spaced out from the orgasm, Shia climbs down from the bed, the tangled shorts almost tripping him. He’s able to stop falling on his face, and tugs the clothes back into their proper place. The cover is dropped on the floor, and he walks over to the window.
He stops in front of it, the blinds hiding whoever is waiting on the other side.
Once more the knocking starts. Shia reaches out and pulls up the blinds. He comes face to face with Zac, who looks like he hasn’t been any better than Shia. In the other boy’s eyes something which looks like fear and a little bit of hope flashes when he sees Shia, and the knocking stops immediately.
He doesn’t know what to do. Should he open the window and talk to Zac, or should he just close the blinds again? All the while he tries to come to a decision, the other just sits there on the roof and stares right back at him, not moving a muscle. He looks like some weird gargoyle, just that he’s not made of stone, but of skin, flesh and bones. And, he looks much better than any gargoyle Shia’s ever seen.
Finally, he opens the window, but he doesn’t say a word, just keeps staring at the other boy.
The silence continues some more, but then Zac clears his throat, a signal that he wants to talk with Shia.
“I, uh, I want to talk with you.” The words are coming haltingly, and the boy sounds unsure of how to formulate his thoughts into actual sentences.
“Okay,” is Shia’s sole reply to that.
“I’m sorry I misinterpreted the situation before.” There is a short and tense pause before Zac continues. “I hope that we can still spend some time together. If you want to, that is.”
There is simply no answer to that. Shia wants the other boy to spend time with him, and he most definitely wants more of what happened before, but is he still allowed to? Did he lose his right to ask for what he refused the first time?
His silence is interpreted as rejection by Zac, and the other just nods devastated.
At the sight of the other boy turning away, something snaps in Shia, and his hand shoots out and grabs Zac’s wrist.
“What…?” Zac once more looks at him. The confusion is clear to see.
But when Shia doesn’t let go of the hand he’s clinging to, understanding flashes in the other’s eyes, and the distance between them shrinks, as Zac crawls closer. The approach doesn’t stop at the window, he has to take a step back, when the boy climbs into the dark room.
All this time Shia hasn’t stopped holding Zac’s wrist, and so, when the other pulls his own arm closer, Shia follows, and they end up leaning close to each other.
“This time I won’t leave.” The breathy whisper ghosts over his cheek.
“Okay.” And there are not further words needed, when Zac tilts his head slightly, and kisses him for the first time.
Author:
simarillionFandom: RPS
Pairing: Shia LaBeouf/Zac Efron
Rating: R (overall)
Beta: draft version (unbetaed)
Word Count: 2451 (total: 9929)
Warning: AU, Voyeurism, M/M
Summary: When Shia gets grounded for a month by his dad, he starts spending his time watching his neighbours. One neighbour is of particular interest to him.
Disclaimer: Some of the persons mentioned are real, but there’s nothing real about the story. The events and the interactions are wholly invented, and I do not claim to know anything about the real persons, or their private lives.
This story is made up, and I do not claim to know anything about the characters privat life, and/or their sexual preferences. No money is made with the writing of this piece of fiction.
Author’s Note: This is actually a fic inspired by Shia’s Disturbia. When the question arose about the interest in Disturbia slash, I thought to myself, what if Shia hadn’t watched his young female but his young male neighbour? Here is what might have happened, RPS-style.
Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five
Part Four
After dinner, which Zac had once more with the LaBeoufs, the two boys go back upstairs. Shia had promised in the afternoon, that today is home video day at the young couple’s house, and neither of them wants to miss anything of it.
“Your dad was kind of quiet today.” Zac is already settled in his chair at the window. “Maybe I should have had dinner at home.”
“Naw, my parents had an argument last night, and my mum won. He always sulks after that for a couple of days. It’s got nothing to do with you.” Shia drags another chair next to the one already standing there, and sits down.
“Okay.”
They sit silently for the next couple of minutes, eyes glued to the open bedroom window of the other house. The actors of this night’s entertainment have already arrived in the afternoon, but Shia knows that they won’t start until their evening routine is complete, and the rest of the evening and the night are at their disposal.
When the woman walks into the bedroom, dressed only in a nurse costume, and prepares the tripod for the camera, Zac and Shia sit up, and watch her giving tonight’s setting some last minute touches. She is soon joined by her lover, who wears a white doctor’s coat, and a stethoscope.
“Let’s do the voices!” is Zac’s amused suggestion. “I’ll even do her part.”
Before Shia can give any kind of response to that, the scene starts, and Zac is totally with them.
“Uh, Doctor, there is something wrong with me.” The nurse is acting all shy and coy. “I need the help of a strong man, who can take care of me.”
The high falsetto, and the words are just hilarious, but they also have the unfortunate side-effect of turning Shia on. It’s far too easy, to imagine Zac and him acting out the scene.
“Please doctor; there is something wrong with me.” The other boy is apparently enjoying himself, making up words which fit the play being shown in the bedroom. “Come on, Shia. It’s your turn, you do the guy’s part.”
He swallows hard, and forces himself to direct his eyes away from the enticing sight right next to him, and look back over to the young couple’s house. In the meantime the scene has continued, and the doctor seems to be spanking the nurse, for some reason Shia doesn’t really get.
“Uh, we’ll have to test the elasticity of your skin,” he stammers.
“Oh, please doctor, do more tests on me.” The sentence is delivered in a breathy voice, and Shia can’t help himself. He blushes deeply, his temperature rises, and his cock starts to harden.
The unfair thing about all of this is that Zac notices his reaction. The other boy stops his nurse impersonation, and watches Shia closely, who just wishes the earth would swallow him whole.
“Shia?” is the tentative question.
“Uh, it’s kind of hot tonight.” Even to his own ears, the excuse sounds stupid.
He doesn’t dare to look up from the hands in his lap, for the fear of the expression on the other’s face. Shia waits, he waits for the other boy to freak out and run screaming.
What happens next is something that takes him totally by surprise.
There is the sound of a chair moving, and Shia already expects to hear the sound of a door closing, when suddenly a shadow looms over him, and his field of vision is intruded upon by the sight of another person’s crotch. He snaps his head up, and his eyes are met by two laughing sky blue eyes of the boy straddling his lap.
“You know, I noticed you sitting at the window and spying on me, days ago. I thought, that my coming here, and asking you about watching me, would get you to tell me about why you do it, but from your behaviour so far, and your reaction to certain things I’ve done, I think I have a fair idea about the reason for that.” Zac wraps his arms around Shia’s neck and leans closer to him, his lips brushing the shell of his ear. “Am I right?”
In his shocked state, Shia panics. He almost shoves the other boy to the floor, and gets up from the chair. “I think it would be better you left for today.”
He wants the other boy, but the sudden reality of his wishes and dreams, just throws him. Never in his life has he imagined the moment where Zac finds out about Shia’s crush to go like this. It’s just so surreal, and a little bit too much, too soon.
“What? Why?” There’s confusion and hurt in the voice. “I thought that you…”
He can feel the muscles in his back start to stiffen; it feels like he’s developing a shield against the eyes that are fixed on him.
“Please,” his voice is getting weaker with every word he says, and a giant lump is growing in his throat. “Leave.”
The nervousness makes it impossible for him to look the other boy in the eye, and so he keeps staring at everything but Zac, who most likely thinks him to be an ass, and an idiot.
When he hears the footsteps into the direction of the door, and then the door open and close, he wants to cry, and sigh with relief all at once. Shia’s glad that he doesn’t have to deal with the situation he’s been dreading for days now, but at the same time he feels like something died inside his chest. He’s ruined his chances with Zac forever.
It’s like his whole body is numb, and the outside world can’t reach him. Shia keeps standing in the middle of the room. He suddenly realizes that his breathing is fast and shallow, and he tries his best to calm down, and get everything under control again.
Problem is though, that nothing will be under control again. Everything has changed with what just happened in this room between him and Zac. It’s not like a lot happened, but the things that did, were important enough to have him close to a panic attack.
As he thinks about how everything turned out, he also tries to find out the reason for his reaction to the advances the other boy made. It is true that Shia has been appreciating the male body, his neighbour’s body in particular, and it is true that he wants Zac, but the problem is that knowing in theory that you are interested in guys, and making out with one, are two very different things.
Exhausted from the mental stress of the day, he trudges to his bed, and falls down onto it. Now, that he’s hidden from sight, tears start coming, and he cries into the sheets. They are not tears of sadness or heartbreak, no, they’re tears of frustration and anger. He’s angry with himself, and he’s more than a little frustrated with how poorly he dealt with the situation.
Long after he’s stopped crying, he stays lying on the bed. His body is tired and heavy, and even thinking about moving seems too exhausting. Brooding, and moping, is much more to his liking, and less taxing by far.
It’s the sound of his parents preparing for bed which has him get up. If he stays buried in the bed any longer, he’ll turn into a girl, doodling broken hearts, and writing bad love poems. Being a guy, he has to deal with disappointment and grief, in a manly way, booze and hookers. Well, more like soda and movies in his case.
“Good night, sweetheart,” his mum says, and hugs him.
Shia watches her disappear behind the bedroom door, and then he makes for the living room downstairs. Before he starts his movie marathon though, Shia gets a two litre bottle of coke, and one of Fanta, and a big glass of peanut butter.
His treasures are stashed on the couch, right next to him, and then he starts zapping through the channels, until he finds an old horror movie. The monsters look totally unreal, the acting is horrendous, and the amounts of ketchup blood used, ought to cover the yearly ketchup consumption of all Californian Mc Ds.
The non-existent plot is just enough to keep the actors going, but that’s about it. After the end of the movie, one two litre bottle is finished, and Shia’s eaten about half the glass of the peanut butter. His stomach cramps, and twists, but he doesn’t stop.
The next horror movie starts, but he zaps on, and finds a John Wayne Western.
After this one, the whole peanut butter glass is empty, and the second two litre bottle is finished as well. The end of the movie is accompanied by Shia’s mad dash for the bathroom, where his upset stomach gets rid of everything he ate for the last hours.
Shia decides that soda, junk food, and old movies are not the right combination. He switches the TV off, and heads back upstairs to his room, to continue with his moping.
The room is dark, and for the first time in the last one and a half weeks, he closes the blinds without checking the neighbours out, without watching Zac.
Tangled in his sheets, he tries to not think about the other boy, but his success with that is none existent. Instead of banning the images of Zac straddling his lap from his mind, his treacherous brain starts to concoct stories and plots of what might have been, had Shia reacted any different than he did.
He can’t help but get aroused by the thought of the two of them together, making out. Like so many times in the last week, he imagines the touches and the fumbling, panting breaths, and the sight of the other boy as he’s flushed with desire and reaching out for him, only Shia being able to help him out.
When the fantasy gets too hot, he tugs down his shorts, buries deeper into the mattress, and starts grinding down into the bed, his whole body aching with the need for more, with the need for all those things he only ever thinks about.
A groan escapes him, and Shia’s fingers claw into the sheets as he speeds his rubbing up, desperate for release. He feels feverish hot, and his face and body are flushed.
The release comes as a disappointment. Even though there is the sweet pain of finding what he tried to achieve, Shia feels bereft and incomplete. There should be more than just his panting breath into the bedding, and the sticky wetness under him.
Frustrated with his dissatisfaction, he rolls away from the stain he caused. Lying on his back, his breath slows down, and the sweat on his body starts to cool on his hot skin.
Shia sits up, his eyes staring into the darkness of his room. The silence which greets him has him reach for the cover, and wrap it around his shoulders. His shorts are tangled somewhere mid-thigh, but he’s too lazy to either pull them back up, or take them off completely.
For quite some time he stays in this position, and doesn’t move. His head is, for the first time in many days and nights, completely empty.
The sudden knocking on his window takes him by surprise and it takes until the knocking starts a second time, that he realizes that the sound is real.
Curious, but also still a little bit spaced out from the orgasm, Shia climbs down from the bed, the tangled shorts almost tripping him. He’s able to stop falling on his face, and tugs the clothes back into their proper place. The cover is dropped on the floor, and he walks over to the window.
He stops in front of it, the blinds hiding whoever is waiting on the other side.
Once more the knocking starts. Shia reaches out and pulls up the blinds. He comes face to face with Zac, who looks like he hasn’t been any better than Shia. In the other boy’s eyes something which looks like fear and a little bit of hope flashes when he sees Shia, and the knocking stops immediately.
He doesn’t know what to do. Should he open the window and talk to Zac, or should he just close the blinds again? All the while he tries to come to a decision, the other just sits there on the roof and stares right back at him, not moving a muscle. He looks like some weird gargoyle, just that he’s not made of stone, but of skin, flesh and bones. And, he looks much better than any gargoyle Shia’s ever seen.
Finally, he opens the window, but he doesn’t say a word, just keeps staring at the other boy.
The silence continues some more, but then Zac clears his throat, a signal that he wants to talk with Shia.
“I, uh, I want to talk with you.” The words are coming haltingly, and the boy sounds unsure of how to formulate his thoughts into actual sentences.
“Okay,” is Shia’s sole reply to that.
“I’m sorry I misinterpreted the situation before.” There is a short and tense pause before Zac continues. “I hope that we can still spend some time together. If you want to, that is.”
There is simply no answer to that. Shia wants the other boy to spend time with him, and he most definitely wants more of what happened before, but is he still allowed to? Did he lose his right to ask for what he refused the first time?
His silence is interpreted as rejection by Zac, and the other just nods devastated.
At the sight of the other boy turning away, something snaps in Shia, and his hand shoots out and grabs Zac’s wrist.
“What…?” Zac once more looks at him. The confusion is clear to see.
But when Shia doesn’t let go of the hand he’s clinging to, understanding flashes in the other’s eyes, and the distance between them shrinks, as Zac crawls closer. The approach doesn’t stop at the window, he has to take a step back, when the boy climbs into the dark room.
All this time Shia hasn’t stopped holding Zac’s wrist, and so, when the other pulls his own arm closer, Shia follows, and they end up leaning close to each other.
“This time I won’t leave.” The breathy whisper ghosts over his cheek.
“Okay.” And there are not further words needed, when Zac tilts his head slightly, and kisses him for the first time.