WIP amnesty
Feb. 17th, 2011 12:25 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
elsaneunilaterally declared, and possibly the first of many.
Byerly broke away after a moment, breathing hard, though he tried to pretend otherwise. He stared at Ivan for a long, dark-eyed moment, then down at Ivan's trousers. Ivan shifted his hips uncomfortably.
"Well, well, well, Ivan Vorpatril," Byerly said. Something strange and sardonic glinted in his voice. He wiped his mouth and stepped back, and second by second his body drew itself back into urbanity, like the ruffled feathers of a bird settling back into place.
"I don't," Ivan started, and then stopped. He didn't, what? He didn't know what he was doing, didn't understand what was happening; the usual excuses. His blood was pounding, his breath was tight, and he wasn't even going to think about his trousers. "I didn't -- " he tried again, shook his head, and reached for the brandy on the side table.
"Yes, yes, I know," Byerly said, a light even drawl. He was leaning against the far wall, his arm casually crossed. It was a pose, though. Ivan had seen Miles try to wear nonchalance far too often to be fooled. "You can take the rest of the formalities as read, I'm a horrible filthy little tramp and your little embarrassing reaction would never have happened if I hadn't taken you completely unawares. For my own perverted purposes. Would you prefer to settle your honor here in person with your fists, or will I be meeting with unexpected friends on my walk home?"
"I don't -- I don't know what you're talking about," Ivan said blankly. This at least was something he did understand, and he said more firmly, "Why the hell would I? That has nothing to do with honor."
"My God," Byerly said. "An officer and a gentleman." He put his head in his hands, laughed to himself soundlessly, and slid slowly down the wall.
Also, since I'm Vorkosiganing, have some recs:
Gregor and Ivan deal with the fallout of a unusual Cetagandan bioweapon. I laughed, I cried, I appreciated the take on trans (Donna-Dono I am looking at you).
On the off chance you pay attention to my journal and haven't already seen this,philomytha posted a masterwork: Illyan's POV through Shards. All of the backstory and character development Cordelia wasn't in a position to appreciate, and more. Go, read, love: Aral Vorkosigan's Dog.
While you're there, readphilomytha's Yuletide fic about how Byerly came to work for ImpSec. A fantastic and very plausible look at what was going on while Miles was busy hiding under floors.
Byerly broke away after a moment, breathing hard, though he tried to pretend otherwise. He stared at Ivan for a long, dark-eyed moment, then down at Ivan's trousers. Ivan shifted his hips uncomfortably.
"Well, well, well, Ivan Vorpatril," Byerly said. Something strange and sardonic glinted in his voice. He wiped his mouth and stepped back, and second by second his body drew itself back into urbanity, like the ruffled feathers of a bird settling back into place.
"I don't," Ivan started, and then stopped. He didn't, what? He didn't know what he was doing, didn't understand what was happening; the usual excuses. His blood was pounding, his breath was tight, and he wasn't even going to think about his trousers. "I didn't -- " he tried again, shook his head, and reached for the brandy on the side table.
"Yes, yes, I know," Byerly said, a light even drawl. He was leaning against the far wall, his arm casually crossed. It was a pose, though. Ivan had seen Miles try to wear nonchalance far too often to be fooled. "You can take the rest of the formalities as read, I'm a horrible filthy little tramp and your little embarrassing reaction would never have happened if I hadn't taken you completely unawares. For my own perverted purposes. Would you prefer to settle your honor here in person with your fists, or will I be meeting with unexpected friends on my walk home?"
"I don't -- I don't know what you're talking about," Ivan said blankly. This at least was something he did understand, and he said more firmly, "Why the hell would I? That has nothing to do with honor."
"My God," Byerly said. "An officer and a gentleman." He put his head in his hands, laughed to himself soundlessly, and slid slowly down the wall.
Also, since I'm Vorkosiganing, have some recs:
Gregor and Ivan deal with the fallout of a unusual Cetagandan bioweapon. I laughed, I cried, I appreciated the take on trans (Donna-Dono I am looking at you).
On the off chance you pay attention to my journal and haven't already seen this,
philomytha posted a masterwork: Illyan's POV through Shards. All of the backstory and character development Cordelia wasn't in a position to appreciate, and more. Go, read, love: Aral Vorkosigan's Dog.While you're there, read
philomytha's Yuletide fic about how Byerly came to work for ImpSec. A fantastic and very plausible look at what was going on while Miles was busy hiding under floors.