3/19/03: I've done it. You should probably start running now.
I never thought I'd do this. A PWP was always the last thing on my reading agenda, let alone my writing agenda. They just never seemed to interest me much, and considering the...physical differences between my favorite boys now (Zim has no banana!!!! XD), explicit writing seemed not too likely. And yet I've just written my first pr0n, and it is IZ O_o. Be afraid.
Dedication: To Bridgie, my constant companion, muse, and neverending support. I don't know what I'd do without you, but I know I wouldn't be the same. Happy Birfday girl, and here's hoping April gets here as quickly as it can!
Warning: SLASH!!! Don't like slash, don't read. Aren't old enough, don't read. Flames will be treated with the same loving respect you'd expect from Nny.
Disclaimer: JHONEN OWNS ALL!!! You will all bow to him, for you are worms not worthy of licking his little pinky toe!!! Wait, what's that on the horizon...NO! The evil Nickelodeon!! We must fight! Fight them for the sake of all things Zim!!! We must-GACK! [killed by a rogue band of paperclips]
[is ressurected for] Further Disclaimer: This is SLASH, which should be abundantly clear at this stage. And since this is slash of an explicit nature I'd like to mention I'm aware of Vasquez's opinions on Zim/Dib. But if anyone knows that we can't help the thoughts that run through our heads, it would be him. Hopefully he can understand that and forgive this liberty taken with his characters. I really do it only out of deep love and devotion for the amazing beings he's created. [bows] ...Now...BRING THE PAIN!!!
Two Can Play
The atmosphere revealed his captive's state of consciousness. The moment Dib entered his room, his senses were bombarded with the tense, hot air, and the sharp tang of fear. It radiated from the being on his bed; Dib felt another rush of pride, and something else he couldn't quite describe, something darker and more confusing. The emotions danced in the back of his brain, tiny, leering demons cavorting on the edges of his perception, encouraging him, pushing him, always behind him. They laughed at the cuffs around the alien's wrists, jeered at his hopeless struggles, and roared with laughter when he shot up, an almost guilty expression on his face, as he realized Dib was in the room.
Dib mentally berated his demons. Yes, victory had finally been achieved. It was certainly a cause for celebration, and he knew he had every right to gloat. He allowed himself a moment to savor the deeply buried fear in his enemy's eyes. Yes, victory was most definitely sweeter than he'd hoped for, and the best was yet to come. Recognition, fame, respect; he closed his eyes and let a satisfied smile creep across his lips.
He had every right to gloat...but did that mean he should? He was better than that...or so he'd thought. But the temptation...Images of Zim's past crimes and taunts sprang, unbidden, to his mind. The alien's smug grin loomed in his thoughts...involuntarily it was compared with the present, made transparent and superimposed on Zim's confused, uncertain face. The change was, to put it mildly, delicious.
A sudden idea twisted and wormed its way into his mind. He tried to shake it off, but it was stubborn, and patient. It had been waiting for this opportunity for years, and it wouldn't be denied now, so close. It forced its way in, despite the protests of such entities as Dib's common sense. Suddenly and irrationally afraid, Dib wanted to run, needed to get down the stairs and out into the street long enough to clear his head.
Sweating, he took a hesitant step forward.
Zim watched him with growing suspicion. He had been surprisingly silent; as familiar as he was with the alien's personality, Dib had expected a headache-causing level of protest, verbal and physical. Instead Zim simply watched him, raising a brow as Dib made his way to the bed.
Dib's legs felt detached from his body and each other. In the short distance between his door and his bed he managed to stumble more than once, and the small, still reasoning portion of his brain noted the confusion growing in Zim's face. The less reasoning portion noted the unconscious tugs on the cuffs. They clanked gently against the bars of the headboard, and something inside Dib growled, low and deep.
When his knees bumped sharply against the foot of the bed, Dib stopped and stared at Zim, who, for his part, stared back. The silence, broken only by Dib's harsh, quickening breaths, drifted further into the realm of oppression. Why was the alien not talking?! They stared at each other, unblinking, and Dib searched those blood red eyes for some clue as to what the alien was up to, why the silence and the absence of their usual jibes and insults. And then Zim turned away and he saw it, in the fading flash of his eyes he discovered the reason.
Zim was terrified. Zim was terrified, and Dib was truly the winner.
That same something stirred, rising up out of some awesome depth, drawn by his enemy's defeat and the sweet lure of his fear. A cruel smile curled the ends of Dib's lips.
Gone was the cloddish uncertainty. Dib stood, tall and thin and utterly intimidating. He crossed his arms, and as if on cue a streak of heat lightning erupted outside, illuminating the almost-dark room and sending eerie shadows crawling across his face. When it was gone the room was darker than before.
"This is beautiful." He closely scrutinized the new shadows as they played across Zim's face. It was almost as if they were trying to hide him. Dib leaned forward, curving his hands around the footboard. His glasses glinted, obscuring his eyes, and his teeth seemed somehow sharper, more white, his canines standing out in strong detail under the curve of his smirking lips. Zim backed away an inch.
"It's too easy! With a single phone call I could end your reign of terror." He lifted one booted foot onto the black bedspread, leaned even further forward, crouching over Zim. The alien's gloved fingers played feebly with the cuffs, but his eyes were locked on Dib's, carrying the look of a beast in a trap, helpless not only to escape, but even to go down fighting.
A wave of pleasure rolled over Dib. "Respect, fame, applause; I'd be a hero!" He reached into the pocket of his trenchcoat, and pulled out a sleek black cellphone. His finger danced idly over the keys. "And all with one simple phone call."
"No..." Zim whispered, barely more than a frightened squeak, then his eyes widened in surprise, as if he hadn't realized he was going to say it until it had already been said. He froze for a moment, then seemed to regroup. His eyes hardened, attempting to trap the fear inside, and when he spoke there was a hint of his usual determination in it. "You...you won't win, human. I'll-"
"You'll what, Zim? There's nothing you can do. You've got nothing to fight with. No one's gonna save you." Dib dragged his other foot onto the bed, pushing his full weight forward until he was leaning over Zim's even leaner frame. His eyes traveled down the almost-frail body, the green skin, greyish in the moonlight barely breaking through the curtains ...the trembling that crept up his torso and arms. Without a doubt he was in control, and the sensation was heady and intoxicating and, unfortunately, totally unfamiliar. It was something he'd never gotten the chance to experience, and now that he had been exposed, the disease was taking hold. He needed it, badly.
He leaned ever closer, unconscious of anything but the shivering warmth underneath him and the way Zim fell back, struggling to pull away from him. It excited him, and Dib kept pushing until Zim couldn't flee any further, then firmly planted a hand on either side of Zim's chest until he was hovering over him, caging him. Dib spoke, and there was an awe and a dark fascination in his suddenly hushed tones.
"You're at my mercy, Zim." Their faces were almost touching, Zim's panting breaths scorching the skin of his neck. The thing inside him roared in anticipation.
Dib dove in for the kill, ensnaring Zim's mouth with his own burning lips. Surprised, Zim forgot to struggle for an eternity of seconds, and Dib took the opportunity to force his way in, his tongue wrestling with Zim's own smooth, slightly cooler one. Realization finally dawned, and Zim bucked, trying to push Dib away. Settling his heavier mass over him, Dib straddled his hips, not breaking the rough kiss. Zim continued to squirm, and the warmth grinding against his crotch quickly brought on a deliciously painful hardness.
Releasing his mouth, Dib rose up on his knees just long enough to pull Zim away from the headboard until the chains of the cuffs were pulled tight, his arms were stretched above him and his legs from the knees down were dangling over the end of the bed. Settling his weight back on Zim's torso was enough to totally immobilize him, leaving him only room enough to squirm.
A frightened yelp escaped Zim's throat, but the alien choked it back and glanced as well as he could at the door. Provided with a distraction that he wasn't about to waste, Dib snatched at the red tank-top Zim had taken to wearing in recent years. With a graceful jerk the shirt was over Zim's shoulders, and with another it was off, wrapped around the chains at the head of the bed, and he was staring into surprised (and somewhat appreciative?) red eyes.
A mischievous smirk crossed Dib's face before he dove in again. This time he brushed against Zim's soft lips only briefly before trailing down his neck, licking and sucking a wavering line down his throat, between his shoulders, all the way to where his navel would have been had he been human. His skin was surprisingly silken, and several degrees cooler than a human's, contrasting even more against Dib's fevered skin. Dib's fingers roamed up Zim's sides, tickling and pinching, and the irken fought down a shiver, writhed, and strained against his bonds. A moan pressed up through his throat, deep and, to Dib's pleasure, hungry.
Looking up, Dib marveled at the massive streaks of defiance and need snaking through Zim's eyes, and the stern, barely supressed set of his jaw. And suddenly he was on his back, Zim straddling his hips now, hands on either side of his head and crotch again grinding into his. "Two can play this game, human," he smirked, all hint of fear and uncertainty gone, replaced with a long-standing and deeply suppressed need.
Following his pattern exactly, Zim began to trail licks and kisses down Dib's chest, but, true to his fashion, added in nips and what would've been scratches, were his gloves off. When he reached Dib's navel, he began to circle it, sucking on every inch with increasing force, until Dib was doing his own share of squirming.
Suddenly and deftly, Zim had him maneuvered so he sat up against the headboard, with a chain on either side of Dib's torso. With a wrenching jerk Dib's t-shirt was on the floor by the door.
The shirt fell back over Zim's hands, hiding them from Dib's view as they flickered around his belt. The only hint of their presence was the sensation of them fluttering against his burning skin as it was bared button by agonizing button. He had to choke back a scream when Zim practically ripped his pants down, freeing his already dripping member.
"Zim...I..."
Another wholly evil smirk and Zim silenced him in the most effective way possible. His lips wrapped around Dib, taking him in and sucking fervently, licking and scraping his teeth along the painfully sensitive skin. The torture seemed to last forever, and stopped all too soon. Dib whimpered at the loss of the warmth...and nearly screamed as it was replaced by something even hotter, tighter and softer. He stared up through the fogged glasses lying skewed across his nose, and was frozen by the sight of Zim naked, straddling his hips. His skin glowed mint in the moonlight that now poured in the window beside them, and he stared at Dib with clouded, almost black, crimson eyes. The shackles glinted on his slim wrists, somehow seeming to hamper him no more than his own skin.
He pushed down, hard, and a wave washed over Dib, causing his hips to buck and driving him even deeper into the heat. Zim hissed, a pleased sound, and pressed back down, quickly guiding Dib into a rhythm. They rocked up and down, and Dib rode wave after wave until the world was reduced to sweat, clanking chains, and burning red. Zim's eyes were heavy-lidded, clouded with overwhelming need and want and fear. Finally they were mere slits of shining crimson, his mouth hung open and a single choked gasp escaped through his panting. "Dib..."
He could only groan in response and lock his gaze with Zim's.
"I'm..." His eyes squeezed shut for a moment, and he hissed again, then he found Dib's eyes again.
"I'm...afraid...."
Dib's world imploded. Without knowing how it happened he was suddenly sitting up, holding Zim while the alien straddled his lap, and burying himself in his tightness and his lips. They rode different waves, but they rode them together, to something frightening and ripe with terrifying potential.
_____
Dib woke to a note, still warm sheets, and broken chains. He smiled, a bit nervously, now uncertain, as he knew Zim was. Examining the chains revealed someone had used a laser on them, and he wondered how he could've forgotten about Zim's ID Pak. The note was on a page torn from his own stationery, scrawled with Zim's characteristic childish script. It said simply, "Two can play that game."
Dib smiled. To the air he replied, "Your turn."
__________
I never thought I'd do this. A PWP was always the last thing on my reading agenda, let alone my writing agenda. They just never seemed to interest me much, and considering the...physical differences between my favorite boys now (Zim has no banana!!!! XD), explicit writing seemed not too likely. And yet I've just written my first pr0n, and it is IZ O_o. Be afraid.
Dedication: To Bridgie, my constant companion, muse, and neverending support. I don't know what I'd do without you, but I know I wouldn't be the same. Happy Birfday girl, and here's hoping April gets here as quickly as it can!
Warning: SLASH!!! Don't like slash, don't read. Aren't old enough, don't read. Flames will be treated with the same loving respect you'd expect from Nny.
Disclaimer: JHONEN OWNS ALL!!! You will all bow to him, for you are worms not worthy of licking his little pinky toe!!! Wait, what's that on the horizon...NO! The evil Nickelodeon!! We must fight! Fight them for the sake of all things Zim!!! We must-GACK! [killed by a rogue band of paperclips]
[is ressurected for] Further Disclaimer: This is SLASH, which should be abundantly clear at this stage. And since this is slash of an explicit nature I'd like to mention I'm aware of Vasquez's opinions on Zim/Dib. But if anyone knows that we can't help the thoughts that run through our heads, it would be him. Hopefully he can understand that and forgive this liberty taken with his characters. I really do it only out of deep love and devotion for the amazing beings he's created. [bows] ...Now...BRING THE PAIN!!!
Two Can Play
The atmosphere revealed his captive's state of consciousness. The moment Dib entered his room, his senses were bombarded with the tense, hot air, and the sharp tang of fear. It radiated from the being on his bed; Dib felt another rush of pride, and something else he couldn't quite describe, something darker and more confusing. The emotions danced in the back of his brain, tiny, leering demons cavorting on the edges of his perception, encouraging him, pushing him, always behind him. They laughed at the cuffs around the alien's wrists, jeered at his hopeless struggles, and roared with laughter when he shot up, an almost guilty expression on his face, as he realized Dib was in the room.
Dib mentally berated his demons. Yes, victory had finally been achieved. It was certainly a cause for celebration, and he knew he had every right to gloat. He allowed himself a moment to savor the deeply buried fear in his enemy's eyes. Yes, victory was most definitely sweeter than he'd hoped for, and the best was yet to come. Recognition, fame, respect; he closed his eyes and let a satisfied smile creep across his lips.
He had every right to gloat...but did that mean he should? He was better than that...or so he'd thought. But the temptation...Images of Zim's past crimes and taunts sprang, unbidden, to his mind. The alien's smug grin loomed in his thoughts...involuntarily it was compared with the present, made transparent and superimposed on Zim's confused, uncertain face. The change was, to put it mildly, delicious.
A sudden idea twisted and wormed its way into his mind. He tried to shake it off, but it was stubborn, and patient. It had been waiting for this opportunity for years, and it wouldn't be denied now, so close. It forced its way in, despite the protests of such entities as Dib's common sense. Suddenly and irrationally afraid, Dib wanted to run, needed to get down the stairs and out into the street long enough to clear his head.
Sweating, he took a hesitant step forward.
Zim watched him with growing suspicion. He had been surprisingly silent; as familiar as he was with the alien's personality, Dib had expected a headache-causing level of protest, verbal and physical. Instead Zim simply watched him, raising a brow as Dib made his way to the bed.
Dib's legs felt detached from his body and each other. In the short distance between his door and his bed he managed to stumble more than once, and the small, still reasoning portion of his brain noted the confusion growing in Zim's face. The less reasoning portion noted the unconscious tugs on the cuffs. They clanked gently against the bars of the headboard, and something inside Dib growled, low and deep.
When his knees bumped sharply against the foot of the bed, Dib stopped and stared at Zim, who, for his part, stared back. The silence, broken only by Dib's harsh, quickening breaths, drifted further into the realm of oppression. Why was the alien not talking?! They stared at each other, unblinking, and Dib searched those blood red eyes for some clue as to what the alien was up to, why the silence and the absence of their usual jibes and insults. And then Zim turned away and he saw it, in the fading flash of his eyes he discovered the reason.
Zim was terrified. Zim was terrified, and Dib was truly the winner.
That same something stirred, rising up out of some awesome depth, drawn by his enemy's defeat and the sweet lure of his fear. A cruel smile curled the ends of Dib's lips.
Gone was the cloddish uncertainty. Dib stood, tall and thin and utterly intimidating. He crossed his arms, and as if on cue a streak of heat lightning erupted outside, illuminating the almost-dark room and sending eerie shadows crawling across his face. When it was gone the room was darker than before.
"This is beautiful." He closely scrutinized the new shadows as they played across Zim's face. It was almost as if they were trying to hide him. Dib leaned forward, curving his hands around the footboard. His glasses glinted, obscuring his eyes, and his teeth seemed somehow sharper, more white, his canines standing out in strong detail under the curve of his smirking lips. Zim backed away an inch.
"It's too easy! With a single phone call I could end your reign of terror." He lifted one booted foot onto the black bedspread, leaned even further forward, crouching over Zim. The alien's gloved fingers played feebly with the cuffs, but his eyes were locked on Dib's, carrying the look of a beast in a trap, helpless not only to escape, but even to go down fighting.
A wave of pleasure rolled over Dib. "Respect, fame, applause; I'd be a hero!" He reached into the pocket of his trenchcoat, and pulled out a sleek black cellphone. His finger danced idly over the keys. "And all with one simple phone call."
"No..." Zim whispered, barely more than a frightened squeak, then his eyes widened in surprise, as if he hadn't realized he was going to say it until it had already been said. He froze for a moment, then seemed to regroup. His eyes hardened, attempting to trap the fear inside, and when he spoke there was a hint of his usual determination in it. "You...you won't win, human. I'll-"
"You'll what, Zim? There's nothing you can do. You've got nothing to fight with. No one's gonna save you." Dib dragged his other foot onto the bed, pushing his full weight forward until he was leaning over Zim's even leaner frame. His eyes traveled down the almost-frail body, the green skin, greyish in the moonlight barely breaking through the curtains ...the trembling that crept up his torso and arms. Without a doubt he was in control, and the sensation was heady and intoxicating and, unfortunately, totally unfamiliar. It was something he'd never gotten the chance to experience, and now that he had been exposed, the disease was taking hold. He needed it, badly.
He leaned ever closer, unconscious of anything but the shivering warmth underneath him and the way Zim fell back, struggling to pull away from him. It excited him, and Dib kept pushing until Zim couldn't flee any further, then firmly planted a hand on either side of Zim's chest until he was hovering over him, caging him. Dib spoke, and there was an awe and a dark fascination in his suddenly hushed tones.
"You're at my mercy, Zim." Their faces were almost touching, Zim's panting breaths scorching the skin of his neck. The thing inside him roared in anticipation.
Dib dove in for the kill, ensnaring Zim's mouth with his own burning lips. Surprised, Zim forgot to struggle for an eternity of seconds, and Dib took the opportunity to force his way in, his tongue wrestling with Zim's own smooth, slightly cooler one. Realization finally dawned, and Zim bucked, trying to push Dib away. Settling his heavier mass over him, Dib straddled his hips, not breaking the rough kiss. Zim continued to squirm, and the warmth grinding against his crotch quickly brought on a deliciously painful hardness.
Releasing his mouth, Dib rose up on his knees just long enough to pull Zim away from the headboard until the chains of the cuffs were pulled tight, his arms were stretched above him and his legs from the knees down were dangling over the end of the bed. Settling his weight back on Zim's torso was enough to totally immobilize him, leaving him only room enough to squirm.
A frightened yelp escaped Zim's throat, but the alien choked it back and glanced as well as he could at the door. Provided with a distraction that he wasn't about to waste, Dib snatched at the red tank-top Zim had taken to wearing in recent years. With a graceful jerk the shirt was over Zim's shoulders, and with another it was off, wrapped around the chains at the head of the bed, and he was staring into surprised (and somewhat appreciative?) red eyes.
A mischievous smirk crossed Dib's face before he dove in again. This time he brushed against Zim's soft lips only briefly before trailing down his neck, licking and sucking a wavering line down his throat, between his shoulders, all the way to where his navel would have been had he been human. His skin was surprisingly silken, and several degrees cooler than a human's, contrasting even more against Dib's fevered skin. Dib's fingers roamed up Zim's sides, tickling and pinching, and the irken fought down a shiver, writhed, and strained against his bonds. A moan pressed up through his throat, deep and, to Dib's pleasure, hungry.
Looking up, Dib marveled at the massive streaks of defiance and need snaking through Zim's eyes, and the stern, barely supressed set of his jaw. And suddenly he was on his back, Zim straddling his hips now, hands on either side of his head and crotch again grinding into his. "Two can play this game, human," he smirked, all hint of fear and uncertainty gone, replaced with a long-standing and deeply suppressed need.
Following his pattern exactly, Zim began to trail licks and kisses down Dib's chest, but, true to his fashion, added in nips and what would've been scratches, were his gloves off. When he reached Dib's navel, he began to circle it, sucking on every inch with increasing force, until Dib was doing his own share of squirming.
Suddenly and deftly, Zim had him maneuvered so he sat up against the headboard, with a chain on either side of Dib's torso. With a wrenching jerk Dib's t-shirt was on the floor by the door.
The shirt fell back over Zim's hands, hiding them from Dib's view as they flickered around his belt. The only hint of their presence was the sensation of them fluttering against his burning skin as it was bared button by agonizing button. He had to choke back a scream when Zim practically ripped his pants down, freeing his already dripping member.
"Zim...I..."
Another wholly evil smirk and Zim silenced him in the most effective way possible. His lips wrapped around Dib, taking him in and sucking fervently, licking and scraping his teeth along the painfully sensitive skin. The torture seemed to last forever, and stopped all too soon. Dib whimpered at the loss of the warmth...and nearly screamed as it was replaced by something even hotter, tighter and softer. He stared up through the fogged glasses lying skewed across his nose, and was frozen by the sight of Zim naked, straddling his hips. His skin glowed mint in the moonlight that now poured in the window beside them, and he stared at Dib with clouded, almost black, crimson eyes. The shackles glinted on his slim wrists, somehow seeming to hamper him no more than his own skin.
He pushed down, hard, and a wave washed over Dib, causing his hips to buck and driving him even deeper into the heat. Zim hissed, a pleased sound, and pressed back down, quickly guiding Dib into a rhythm. They rocked up and down, and Dib rode wave after wave until the world was reduced to sweat, clanking chains, and burning red. Zim's eyes were heavy-lidded, clouded with overwhelming need and want and fear. Finally they were mere slits of shining crimson, his mouth hung open and a single choked gasp escaped through his panting. "Dib..."
He could only groan in response and lock his gaze with Zim's.
"I'm..." His eyes squeezed shut for a moment, and he hissed again, then he found Dib's eyes again.
"I'm...afraid...."
Dib's world imploded. Without knowing how it happened he was suddenly sitting up, holding Zim while the alien straddled his lap, and burying himself in his tightness and his lips. They rode different waves, but they rode them together, to something frightening and ripe with terrifying potential.
_____
Dib woke to a note, still warm sheets, and broken chains. He smiled, a bit nervously, now uncertain, as he knew Zim was. Examining the chains revealed someone had used a laser on them, and he wondered how he could've forgotten about Zim's ID Pak. The note was on a page torn from his own stationery, scrawled with Zim's characteristic childish script. It said simply, "Two can play that game."
Dib smiled. To the air he replied, "Your turn."
__________