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Title: Sui Generis
Fandoms: Castle
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Horror, Sci-fi, Romance.
Warnings: Possible squick, non-sexual content skirting dub-con
Reverse Warnings: Whatever certain scenes or warnings might lead one to believe, this fic contains neither mpreg nor naughty tentacles. I promise.
Details: Pre-slash, AU, genre!crack, angst, body horror, mood whiplash, insanity (not the characters', mine), starfish aliens, unbetad.
Characters/Pairings: Castle―pre-Javier Esposito/Kevin Ryan, Kevin/Jenny, Richard Castle.
Wordcount: 1,359
Summary: Javier confessed never expecting Kevin to believe him. Kevin didn't, but somehow, things still wound up spiraling frighteningly out of control...
1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 5.5 - 6 - 7
Chapter Two
The next morning Kevin woke up in predictable condition, barely remembering the previous night’s events.
He recalled the conversation, vaguely, but the memory was soft around the edges. Normally, he would never drink to the point of blacking out, but yesterday's case was just the sort of event that occasionally pushed him to make an exception. The agony in his head and the tight, queasy pressure in his stomach made the lack of restraint difficult to forgive himself for, but once those symptoms had passed he was certain that would too.
Levering himself up from Javier's couch it took Kevin a full two minutes to locate his jacket—feeling stupid when he realized he'd been laying on it. Fishing out his phone with a snort, his short-lived amusement quickly fled. There were more than a dozen missed calls, and nearly twice that many unanswered texts—almost all of which were from Jenny. At first that seemed excessive, he knew he'd told Jenny where he was going that night. It wasn't until he started paying attention to the time-stamp that the issue struck him.
The last call had come around 3 pm. Now, it was nearly five o'clock. Kevin had lost almost the entire day.
The realization pulled a mumbled swear out of him, and he was casting around for the rest of his things before he even thought about it. Once he was certain he wasn't about to leave anything crucial behind Kevin intended to say his goodbyes to Javier, but as he entered the hallway he heard the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. That was when he remembered sickly that there were some serious things he and his partner still had to discuss sober. Weighing his options, not really happy with any of them, Kevin finally left a note on the kitchen table and let himself out.
The situation with Jenny was almost as predictable as the hangover. When he called her on the cab ride home, the fight pretty much started as soon as she picked up the phone, simmering patiently to continue when he got there. It was one thing to spend the night drinking with his partner, but it was violently another to spend an entire day at his place passed out drunk.
Kevin had no reasonable argument against that opinion. Still, maybe it was the headache, or the nausea, or the confusion that still clung cobweb-like to the back of his mind, but he simply did not feel up to being yelled at. He found himself becoming unusually upset at her. About the fifth time he bit off a comment that would have been downright hurtful he finally asked her to go, frustratedly insisting that they'd talk about it tomorrow when he got home from work.
After the door had closed behind her, Kevin stood dumbly for almost a full minute. He was exhausted and miserable, and despite having slept most of the day, at that moment he wanted nothing more than to fall into bed. But he was starving, and his normally crisp clothes reeked sickly of sweat and so he threw something in the microwave while he mustered the strength necessary to suffer through a shower.
The sight of himself in the bathroom mirror was almost startling. He was hollow-eyed, and paler than usual. He flat-out looked like crap. He felt like crap, though, and didn't think much of it. It was only when he stripped off his shirt that he found the mark—a tiny puncture on the left side of his stomach. Bloodless, pink and raw-looking, the skin around it was slightly warm, rosy and tender like a rash. The sight of it left him faintly alarmed. Prodding his memory lifted nothing that might explain it, however, and in the end there was nothing he could do but dress it carefully before finally crawling into bed.
The following morning, Kevin didn't feel much better. Still strangely exhausted despite the surplus hours, he had allowed himself to sleep in as long as he could afford. He woke up hungry, though the nausea that pinched his stomach made even the thought of food unpleasant. He was still pale—almost shocky—and while the headache no longer pounded so aggressively, a band of hot pressure had made itself at home inside his skull and showed no hint of wanting to leave any time soon.
When he finally arrived at work, Kate made it clear that she was unhappy with both of them for ditching their share of the paperwork the day before. To make matters worse, Javier seemed to be avoiding him—well, talking to him, anyway. Working hard to make up for the day they had missed, it was impossible for his partner to escape him completely. Which, Kevin found himself explaining to Castle that very day, meant nothing, because Javier was capable of applying the cold shoulder to radical and impressive extremes.
That normally didn't bother Kevin much—at least not in any way he was entitled to complain about—because normally when that tactic was employed he'd actually done something wrong. Kevin wasn't about to say he was surprised that things were...awkward in the face of where the other night's conversation had gone, he simply didn't understand how it had lead to this. Javier had confessed to having feelings for him—at least Kevin was pretty sure that he had. Kevin wasn't angry about that, but if anyone was going to be, shouldn't it have been him?
It was hours before Kevin was finally able to talk to him away from the others. Javier clearly saw his questions coming and tried to evade the conversation but Kevin grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks.
"Look, bro," Kevin began cautiously, for though Javier's expression was closed off, he was still aware of an odd skittishness that might have been amusing under very different circumstances. "I know and you know that we have some...things we need to talk about, and I know we both also know this isn't the best place to do it, but...I don't remember much about the other night, so if I did something to piss you off, please, you have to throw me a bone here."
That seemed to soften Javier's expression just a little, and the hurt concern that shown through reminded Kevin how rough he still looked. It wasn't his most proud moment anyway, so he was willing to use that if it was needed. His partner let out a slow breath.
"Okay, Kev," Javier said softly, "Okay... What do you remember?"
"I remember you explained...the alien thing," Kevin started. In his head, "the alien thing" was what he'd labeled Javier's jealousy. Because he remembered that much, even if the rest of the conversation still didn't make any sense. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him that Kevin realized had been in his head since he'd woke the day before, but that he'd unconsciously been avoiding.
"Wait, Javi, we didn't..." Kevin's stomach was tight with guilt before he could even voice the question. Steeling himself he inhaled, pushing forward. "Did we...did we sleep together?"
Kevin didn't think he had seen anyone's mood shift so fast in his life. Concern melted away into a smoldering anger so intense it nearly made him flinch.
"No, Kev," Javier ground out, beginning to pull away, "we didn't."
And Kevin had wanted to keep a hold on him, to keep his partner there until he could shape his world back into something that made sense—but he suddenly found himself snatching back his hand like he'd been burned. As his partner stalked off, Kevin was left shaken.
He would give Javier a wide berth for the rest of that day, telling himself it was because he and his partner both needed the time to cool down before either of them could talk about things rationally. It would take him the better part of half an hour to shake off the unaccountable dread the encounter had left behind. First, however, Kevin found himself wiping his hand on the fabric of his coat as if it could scrub away the memory of the odd sensation he'd felt—caused, undoubtedly, by the lingering effects of his hangover.
Because just for a moment, he'd though he felt the muscles squirm unnaturally beneath his partner's skin.
1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 5.5 - 6 - 7
Author's Note: Been in a rut of my brain working on every story but the ones I'm trying to finish, so the end result is another short chapter of this.
Also... Is it just me, or is this more or less the same story as Evidence to the Contrary, only backwards?
Fandoms: Castle
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Horror, Sci-fi, Romance.
Warnings: Possible squick, non-sexual content skirting dub-con
Reverse Warnings: Whatever certain scenes or warnings might lead one to believe, this fic contains neither mpreg nor naughty tentacles. I promise.
Details: Pre-slash, AU, genre!crack, angst, body horror, mood whiplash, insanity (not the characters', mine), starfish aliens, unbetad.
Characters/Pairings: Castle―pre-Javier Esposito/Kevin Ryan, Kevin/Jenny, Richard Castle.
Wordcount: 1,359
Summary: Javier confessed never expecting Kevin to believe him. Kevin didn't, but somehow, things still wound up spiraling frighteningly out of control...
1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 5.5 - 6 - 7
Chapter Two
The next morning Kevin woke up in predictable condition, barely remembering the previous night’s events.
He recalled the conversation, vaguely, but the memory was soft around the edges. Normally, he would never drink to the point of blacking out, but yesterday's case was just the sort of event that occasionally pushed him to make an exception. The agony in his head and the tight, queasy pressure in his stomach made the lack of restraint difficult to forgive himself for, but once those symptoms had passed he was certain that would too.
Levering himself up from Javier's couch it took Kevin a full two minutes to locate his jacket—feeling stupid when he realized he'd been laying on it. Fishing out his phone with a snort, his short-lived amusement quickly fled. There were more than a dozen missed calls, and nearly twice that many unanswered texts—almost all of which were from Jenny. At first that seemed excessive, he knew he'd told Jenny where he was going that night. It wasn't until he started paying attention to the time-stamp that the issue struck him.
The last call had come around 3 pm. Now, it was nearly five o'clock. Kevin had lost almost the entire day.
The realization pulled a mumbled swear out of him, and he was casting around for the rest of his things before he even thought about it. Once he was certain he wasn't about to leave anything crucial behind Kevin intended to say his goodbyes to Javier, but as he entered the hallway he heard the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. That was when he remembered sickly that there were some serious things he and his partner still had to discuss sober. Weighing his options, not really happy with any of them, Kevin finally left a note on the kitchen table and let himself out.
The situation with Jenny was almost as predictable as the hangover. When he called her on the cab ride home, the fight pretty much started as soon as she picked up the phone, simmering patiently to continue when he got there. It was one thing to spend the night drinking with his partner, but it was violently another to spend an entire day at his place passed out drunk.
Kevin had no reasonable argument against that opinion. Still, maybe it was the headache, or the nausea, or the confusion that still clung cobweb-like to the back of his mind, but he simply did not feel up to being yelled at. He found himself becoming unusually upset at her. About the fifth time he bit off a comment that would have been downright hurtful he finally asked her to go, frustratedly insisting that they'd talk about it tomorrow when he got home from work.
After the door had closed behind her, Kevin stood dumbly for almost a full minute. He was exhausted and miserable, and despite having slept most of the day, at that moment he wanted nothing more than to fall into bed. But he was starving, and his normally crisp clothes reeked sickly of sweat and so he threw something in the microwave while he mustered the strength necessary to suffer through a shower.
The sight of himself in the bathroom mirror was almost startling. He was hollow-eyed, and paler than usual. He flat-out looked like crap. He felt like crap, though, and didn't think much of it. It was only when he stripped off his shirt that he found the mark—a tiny puncture on the left side of his stomach. Bloodless, pink and raw-looking, the skin around it was slightly warm, rosy and tender like a rash. The sight of it left him faintly alarmed. Prodding his memory lifted nothing that might explain it, however, and in the end there was nothing he could do but dress it carefully before finally crawling into bed.
The following morning, Kevin didn't feel much better. Still strangely exhausted despite the surplus hours, he had allowed himself to sleep in as long as he could afford. He woke up hungry, though the nausea that pinched his stomach made even the thought of food unpleasant. He was still pale—almost shocky—and while the headache no longer pounded so aggressively, a band of hot pressure had made itself at home inside his skull and showed no hint of wanting to leave any time soon.
When he finally arrived at work, Kate made it clear that she was unhappy with both of them for ditching their share of the paperwork the day before. To make matters worse, Javier seemed to be avoiding him—well, talking to him, anyway. Working hard to make up for the day they had missed, it was impossible for his partner to escape him completely. Which, Kevin found himself explaining to Castle that very day, meant nothing, because Javier was capable of applying the cold shoulder to radical and impressive extremes.
That normally didn't bother Kevin much—at least not in any way he was entitled to complain about—because normally when that tactic was employed he'd actually done something wrong. Kevin wasn't about to say he was surprised that things were...awkward in the face of where the other night's conversation had gone, he simply didn't understand how it had lead to this. Javier had confessed to having feelings for him—at least Kevin was pretty sure that he had. Kevin wasn't angry about that, but if anyone was going to be, shouldn't it have been him?
It was hours before Kevin was finally able to talk to him away from the others. Javier clearly saw his questions coming and tried to evade the conversation but Kevin grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks.
"Look, bro," Kevin began cautiously, for though Javier's expression was closed off, he was still aware of an odd skittishness that might have been amusing under very different circumstances. "I know and you know that we have some...things we need to talk about, and I know we both also know this isn't the best place to do it, but...I don't remember much about the other night, so if I did something to piss you off, please, you have to throw me a bone here."
That seemed to soften Javier's expression just a little, and the hurt concern that shown through reminded Kevin how rough he still looked. It wasn't his most proud moment anyway, so he was willing to use that if it was needed. His partner let out a slow breath.
"Okay, Kev," Javier said softly, "Okay... What do you remember?"
"I remember you explained...the alien thing," Kevin started. In his head, "the alien thing" was what he'd labeled Javier's jealousy. Because he remembered that much, even if the rest of the conversation still didn't make any sense. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him that Kevin realized had been in his head since he'd woke the day before, but that he'd unconsciously been avoiding.
"Wait, Javi, we didn't..." Kevin's stomach was tight with guilt before he could even voice the question. Steeling himself he inhaled, pushing forward. "Did we...did we sleep together?"
Kevin didn't think he had seen anyone's mood shift so fast in his life. Concern melted away into a smoldering anger so intense it nearly made him flinch.
"No, Kev," Javier ground out, beginning to pull away, "we didn't."
And Kevin had wanted to keep a hold on him, to keep his partner there until he could shape his world back into something that made sense—but he suddenly found himself snatching back his hand like he'd been burned. As his partner stalked off, Kevin was left shaken.
He would give Javier a wide berth for the rest of that day, telling himself it was because he and his partner both needed the time to cool down before either of them could talk about things rationally. It would take him the better part of half an hour to shake off the unaccountable dread the encounter had left behind. First, however, Kevin found himself wiping his hand on the fabric of his coat as if it could scrub away the memory of the odd sensation he'd felt—caused, undoubtedly, by the lingering effects of his hangover.
Because just for a moment, he'd though he felt the muscles squirm unnaturally beneath his partner's skin.
1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 5.5 - 6 - 7
Author's Note: Been in a rut of my brain working on every story but the ones I'm trying to finish, so the end result is another short chapter of this.
Also... Is it just me, or is this more or less the same story as Evidence to the Contrary, only backwards?
