It's not even Tuesday!
Apr. 15th, 2010 02:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sabinelagrandeTitle: Bondage Tuesdays
Summary: Grant has no idea what he's in for.
Fandom: Mythbusters
Word Count: 443
Rating/Contents: PG, crack, bondage, half-naked people
Pairing: Implied everybody/everybody else
Policies: Read my archiving, feedback, and warnings policies here.
Disclaimer: Clearly, this is a work of fiction, which describes things that never, ever happened.
A/N: This started out as a silly comment to![[personal profile]](https://s.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
coffeesuperhero, and turned into a silly little ficlet. IDEK. She said post it. I do what she says.
What happens is, Grant's lawnmower breaks down.
I mean, it breaks down in a serious way, the kind of serious way that means he's not going to be able to fix it. He can turn it into something else, maybe, but its days as a lawnmower are well and truly done.
Grant's got people coming over to look at the house on Wednesday morning, so he frantically rummages in his brain for responsible homeowners of his acquaintance with lawnmower-moving capabilities- and the answer, of course, is Jamie.
So Grant hops in his car and heads over to Jamie's house. He almost doesn't knock, because there are a bunch of familiar cars in his driveway and scattered on the street- Jamie's well within his rights to have dinner with his friends and acquaintances, Grant's a little miffed at not being invited, Grant doesn't want to bust up the party- but he parks and makes his way up to Jamie's front door anyway.
He knocks on the door, expecting to have to wait, but before he's even done knocking, there's a growling voice from the other side of the door.
"You better be ready, boy, because I'm gonna wear that-"
The door swings open, and there's Jamie; it does not escape Grant's notice that Jamie is wearing what appears to be leather pants and not a whole lot else.
Jamie stops dead in his tracks, looking at Grant. "I thought you were-" he stops again. "Somebody else," he covers.
"Uh," Grant says.
Jamie crowds the door, trying to conceal the living room from view; it almost works, except that Jamie's too short to pull it off. Grant can clearly see Tory and Kari standing- okay, well, Kari's standing inside, clad in a corset and a criminally short skirt. Her mouth is a perfect O of surprise; she grabs a pillow off the couch and holds it over herself, like the damage isn't already done.
Tory's not so much standing as he is strapped in, wrists and ankles secured to one of those X-shaped crosses. He's wearing a gag, but he waves a hand at Grant in greeting- and leave it to Tory to be completely unfazed at being found like this, in his underpants, in Jamie's living room.
"Did you need something?" Jamie asks, gruffly, blushing and looking put out.
Grant startles, coming back to the problem at hand. He should really turn around and leave; it's on the tip of his tongue to apologize profusely, to forget about the stupid lawnmower, to swear up and down that he'll never, ever, ever disturb Jamie without calling ever again.
"Can I come in?" he says instead.
This entry was automagically crossposted from http://sabinetzin.dreamwidth.org/221057.html.
comments over there.
Summary: Grant has no idea what he's in for.
Fandom: Mythbusters
Word Count: 443
Rating/Contents: PG, crack, bondage, half-naked people
Pairing: Implied everybody/everybody else
Policies: Read my archiving, feedback, and warnings policies here.
Disclaimer: Clearly, this is a work of fiction, which describes things that never, ever happened.
A/N: This started out as a silly comment to
coffeesuperhero, and turned into a silly little ficlet. IDEK. She said post it. I do what she says.What happens is, Grant's lawnmower breaks down.
I mean, it breaks down in a serious way, the kind of serious way that means he's not going to be able to fix it. He can turn it into something else, maybe, but its days as a lawnmower are well and truly done.
Grant's got people coming over to look at the house on Wednesday morning, so he frantically rummages in his brain for responsible homeowners of his acquaintance with lawnmower-moving capabilities- and the answer, of course, is Jamie.
So Grant hops in his car and heads over to Jamie's house. He almost doesn't knock, because there are a bunch of familiar cars in his driveway and scattered on the street- Jamie's well within his rights to have dinner with his friends and acquaintances, Grant's a little miffed at not being invited, Grant doesn't want to bust up the party- but he parks and makes his way up to Jamie's front door anyway.
He knocks on the door, expecting to have to wait, but before he's even done knocking, there's a growling voice from the other side of the door.
"You better be ready, boy, because I'm gonna wear that-"
The door swings open, and there's Jamie; it does not escape Grant's notice that Jamie is wearing what appears to be leather pants and not a whole lot else.
Jamie stops dead in his tracks, looking at Grant. "I thought you were-" he stops again. "Somebody else," he covers.
"Uh," Grant says.
Jamie crowds the door, trying to conceal the living room from view; it almost works, except that Jamie's too short to pull it off. Grant can clearly see Tory and Kari standing- okay, well, Kari's standing inside, clad in a corset and a criminally short skirt. Her mouth is a perfect O of surprise; she grabs a pillow off the couch and holds it over herself, like the damage isn't already done.
Tory's not so much standing as he is strapped in, wrists and ankles secured to one of those X-shaped crosses. He's wearing a gag, but he waves a hand at Grant in greeting- and leave it to Tory to be completely unfazed at being found like this, in his underpants, in Jamie's living room.
"Did you need something?" Jamie asks, gruffly, blushing and looking put out.
Grant startles, coming back to the problem at hand. He should really turn around and leave; it's on the tip of his tongue to apologize profusely, to forget about the stupid lawnmower, to swear up and down that he'll never, ever, ever disturb Jamie without calling ever again.
"Can I come in?" he says instead.
This entry was automagically crossposted from http://sabinetzin.dreamwidth.org/221057.html.
