Emily (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
iluvroadrunner6) wrote2006-11-16 08:35 am
iluvroadrunner6) wrote2006-11-16 08:35 am
Flack/Peyton - Not Real
i hate the prompt generator right about now.
Fandom: CSI:NY
Title: Not Real
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
iluvroadrunner6
Rating: FRT
Pairing Don Flack/Peyton Driscoll
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
15pairings Prompt: It's not real
Content Warning: N/A
Summary: He was a man who knew when a woman was out of his league, and Peyton? She was like trying to make the majors while still playing recreational baseball. The kind everyone got into, and no one got cut.
Author's Note: Also used prompt Peyton Driscoll / Don Flack, Jr. / trust. In case you haven't noticed, I tend to write pairings based on little to no screentime evidence. This one falls into the little category rather than the no one, but still. I hate my brain sometimes. It can't just be normal and ship what other people ship.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of CSI:NY. They're owned by CBS.
He knew he really shouldn’t be doing this. He knew he shouldn’t be with her, he knew he shouldn’t be touching her, hell, he shouldn’t even be in the same room as her. He was a man who knew when a woman was out of his league, and Peyton? She was like trying to make the majors while still playing recreational baseball. The kind everyone got into, and no one got cut. He didn’t deserve for this to be happening and yet it was and damn it was too good for him to let go now.
He didn’t even know what drew her to him in the first place. She had been with Mac Taylor. The man was the guy. Women practically hero-worshipped him. He was even convinced that Stella was in love with Mac, and that was when she wasn’t too pissed off at him to kill him.
He didn’t know how or when this happened, it was just one moment he was sitting in Sullivan’s, watching her down shot and after shot, and the next he had her up against her apartment door and she was kissing the hell out of him, but she was drunk, and didn’t know what she was doing, and he just put her to bed and left, like the good guy should. The next day she told him that she appreciated him taking her home, and hoped she didn’t make too big a fool of herself, in the cute little accent of hers, and he knew for the first time in a long time that he was hooked.
And then somehow they wound up here, her head on his chest, his arms around her, and he kept waiting for someone to wake him up. He was waiting for someone to wake him up and tell him this whole thing wasn’t real, and that this wasn’t really happening to him. And it would probably kill him at this point, but also at this point, he didn’t really care. Well, he did care, but—Jesus. He didn’t even know what he was thinking anymore.
He watched as she looked up at him, resting her chin against his chest, big green eyes boring into his, and she just looked so relaxed and content, and Don wondered how in hell Mac could have let something like her go.
“Where are you?” she asked, her accent flooding his ears and making him smile.
“Here,” he replied with a smirk and she smiled.
“Mentally speaking,” she corrected herself, and he reached up, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
“What are you doing with me, Peyton?” he asked, and a playful smirk crossed her lips.
“If I have to explain it to you, I going to wonder what you thought we were doing all this time,” she said softly, and he laughed, before shaking his head.
“You know what I mean,” he said.
“Why am I with you, you mean?”
“Yeah,” he replied, nodding his head, and she moved so that she was straddling him, her face even with his.
“You’re a good guy,” she replied, her fingers starting to trace lazy circles across his chest, “We have fun together, and I trust you.”
He looked up at her in surprise at that, “You trust me?” They barely even knew each other and she trusted him?
She nodded, before pressing a kiss to the pulse point of his neck, and resting her head against his chest. There was silence for a moment before he spoke up again, tightening his hold around her.
“Can I ask why?”
“Why what?” she frowned, confused.
“Why you trust me,” he replied.
“That first night,” she said, “I probably pushed every button you had, and some you didn’t even know were there, but you still walked away. You didn’t want hurt me.”
“Yeah, but you trust Hawkes, right?” he continued, trying to make sense of this for himself. Sheldon Hawkes was another one of those guys who was just the guy. “Could have gone to him.”
“Sheldon’s like my little brother,” she said with a laugh, “I didn’t feel for him quite the same way. When it comes to you, on the other hand, I don’t really have a brotherly sentiment in any sense of the word.”
“That’s good,” he smirked and she laughed.
“I just enjoy being with you, Don,” she said shifting so that she was looking him in the eye again, “That’s all.”
He stared at her for a second, before pulling her into a warm kiss, feeling her arms slide around his neck in response. She just wanted to be with him. Kind of in the way he just wanted to be with her. His mind was still screaming at him that this wasn’t the way things were supposed to work, that this probably wasn’t even really real.
But he could probably get used to this.
Fandom: CSI:NY
Title: Not Real
Author:
iluvroadrunner6Rating: FRT
Pairing Don Flack/Peyton Driscoll
15pairings Prompt: It's not realContent Warning: N/A
Summary: He was a man who knew when a woman was out of his league, and Peyton? She was like trying to make the majors while still playing recreational baseball. The kind everyone got into, and no one got cut.
Author's Note: Also used prompt Peyton Driscoll / Don Flack, Jr. / trust. In case you haven't noticed, I tend to write pairings based on little to no screentime evidence. This one falls into the little category rather than the no one, but still. I hate my brain sometimes. It can't just be normal and ship what other people ship.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of CSI:NY. They're owned by CBS.
He knew he really shouldn’t be doing this. He knew he shouldn’t be with her, he knew he shouldn’t be touching her, hell, he shouldn’t even be in the same room as her. He was a man who knew when a woman was out of his league, and Peyton? She was like trying to make the majors while still playing recreational baseball. The kind everyone got into, and no one got cut. He didn’t deserve for this to be happening and yet it was and damn it was too good for him to let go now.
He didn’t even know what drew her to him in the first place. She had been with Mac Taylor. The man was the guy. Women practically hero-worshipped him. He was even convinced that Stella was in love with Mac, and that was when she wasn’t too pissed off at him to kill him.
He didn’t know how or when this happened, it was just one moment he was sitting in Sullivan’s, watching her down shot and after shot, and the next he had her up against her apartment door and she was kissing the hell out of him, but she was drunk, and didn’t know what she was doing, and he just put her to bed and left, like the good guy should. The next day she told him that she appreciated him taking her home, and hoped she didn’t make too big a fool of herself, in the cute little accent of hers, and he knew for the first time in a long time that he was hooked.
And then somehow they wound up here, her head on his chest, his arms around her, and he kept waiting for someone to wake him up. He was waiting for someone to wake him up and tell him this whole thing wasn’t real, and that this wasn’t really happening to him. And it would probably kill him at this point, but also at this point, he didn’t really care. Well, he did care, but—Jesus. He didn’t even know what he was thinking anymore.
He watched as she looked up at him, resting her chin against his chest, big green eyes boring into his, and she just looked so relaxed and content, and Don wondered how in hell Mac could have let something like her go.
“Where are you?” she asked, her accent flooding his ears and making him smile.
“Here,” he replied with a smirk and she smiled.
“Mentally speaking,” she corrected herself, and he reached up, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
“What are you doing with me, Peyton?” he asked, and a playful smirk crossed her lips.
“If I have to explain it to you, I going to wonder what you thought we were doing all this time,” she said softly, and he laughed, before shaking his head.
“You know what I mean,” he said.
“Why am I with you, you mean?”
“Yeah,” he replied, nodding his head, and she moved so that she was straddling him, her face even with his.
“You’re a good guy,” she replied, her fingers starting to trace lazy circles across his chest, “We have fun together, and I trust you.”
He looked up at her in surprise at that, “You trust me?” They barely even knew each other and she trusted him?
She nodded, before pressing a kiss to the pulse point of his neck, and resting her head against his chest. There was silence for a moment before he spoke up again, tightening his hold around her.
“Can I ask why?”
“Why what?” she frowned, confused.
“Why you trust me,” he replied.
“That first night,” she said, “I probably pushed every button you had, and some you didn’t even know were there, but you still walked away. You didn’t want hurt me.”
“Yeah, but you trust Hawkes, right?” he continued, trying to make sense of this for himself. Sheldon Hawkes was another one of those guys who was just the guy. “Could have gone to him.”
“Sheldon’s like my little brother,” she said with a laugh, “I didn’t feel for him quite the same way. When it comes to you, on the other hand, I don’t really have a brotherly sentiment in any sense of the word.”
“That’s good,” he smirked and she laughed.
“I just enjoy being with you, Don,” she said shifting so that she was looking him in the eye again, “That’s all.”
He stared at her for a second, before pulling her into a warm kiss, feeling her arms slide around his neck in response. She just wanted to be with him. Kind of in the way he just wanted to be with her. His mind was still screaming at him that this wasn’t the way things were supposed to work, that this probably wasn’t even really real.
But he could probably get used to this.
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i'm thinking i might. *headdesk* why does flack want to be written with everyone? why?
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i still write them anyway.
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I'm glad you liked it.