FIC: Perfect Weekend (EM/EB, PG-13), for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
50kinkyways
Oct. 23rd, 2006 02:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
salixbabylonTitle: Perfect Weekend
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
heartofslash
Fandom: RPS
Characters: Ewan McGregor/Eric Bana
Prompt: 39. Collars
Word Count: 150
Rating: PG-13
Author's Notes: Eric and Ewan go away for the weekend. Ewan packed.
Perfect Weekend
A perfect weekend. Just the two of them in a quiet, big fake-rustic cabin with electricity and TV (not that he plans on watching any TV) and a tiled bathroom with a gigantic shower and a coffee maker and a great big bed with a firm mattress. No phone. No sets. No agents or managers or directors. Three whole nights and three whole days and no obligations.
Ewan'd been finished with work earlier, so he'd packed for both of them.
Eric was standing in front of the dresser with his eyes closed and his hand in his case, hoping like a kid on Christmas morning that this would indeed be a perfect weekend.
His fingers crept past denim and cotton and terry, through jeans and t-shirts and socks. They brushed against something harder. Smoother. A crisp edge. A cold metal ring.
Ewan'd packed Eric's collar.
Oh, yes. A perfect weekend indeed.
~end~
Author:
heartofslashFandom: RPS
Characters: Ewan McGregor/Eric Bana
Prompt: 39. Collars
Word Count: 150
Rating: PG-13
Author's Notes: Eric and Ewan go away for the weekend. Ewan packed.
A perfect weekend. Just the two of them in a quiet, big fake-rustic cabin with electricity and TV (not that he plans on watching any TV) and a tiled bathroom with a gigantic shower and a coffee maker and a great big bed with a firm mattress. No phone. No sets. No agents or managers or directors. Three whole nights and three whole days and no obligations.
Ewan'd been finished with work earlier, so he'd packed for both of them.
Eric was standing in front of the dresser with his eyes closed and his hand in his case, hoping like a kid on Christmas morning that this would indeed be a perfect weekend.
His fingers crept past denim and cotton and terry, through jeans and t-shirts and socks. They brushed against something harder. Smoother. A crisp edge. A cold metal ring.
Ewan'd packed Eric's collar.
Oh, yes. A perfect weekend indeed.
