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fringe_kinkmemeThis is a kinkmeme. You may just be familiar with the concept.
If not: explicit, adult content; read at your own risk, and keep the kids -- wherever that arbitrary line is in your jurisdiction -- out. Also, please wear your seatbelt.
RULES
1. When prompting, use the comment field to jot down character, pairing, or moresome first, then the kink(s), then any other prompt elements; after a line break, you can elaborate via words, images, or links. Like so?
2. When responding, use the subject line for the original prompt (plus your title, if you have one).
3. All kinks are welcome -- sexual, emotional, conceptual, likewise all gen, het, slash, bitextual and other fic from crack to drama.
4. Anon is encouraged but up to you.
5. Mark all spoilers, mmkay?
6. Go for it!
REMINDERS
7. With a view to some prompts: Spell Check is your BFF. Don't make Alt!Astrid cry, please?
8. A kinkmeme's more than a promptmeme. Here'seliade's non-definitive and non-exhaustive (but pretty illustrative) List of Fan-fiction Kinks, Tropes, Clichés, and Fetishes.
9. Could you -- in the subject line or the first line of the body of text -- draw attention to the fact there's rape or non-con, major character death, underage, and/or graphic violence in your response (which is the Archive Of Our Own (AO3) policy).
If not: explicit, adult content; read at your own risk, and keep the kids -- wherever that arbitrary line is in your jurisdiction -- out. Also, please wear your seatbelt.
RULES
1. When prompting, use the comment field to jot down character, pairing, or moresome first, then the kink(s), then any other prompt elements; after a line break, you can elaborate via words, images, or links. Like so?
2. When responding, use the subject line for the original prompt (plus your title, if you have one).
3. All kinks are welcome -- sexual, emotional, conceptual, likewise all gen, het, slash, bitextual and other fic from crack to drama.
4. Anon is encouraged but up to you.
5. Mark all spoilers, mmkay?
6. Go for it!
REMINDERS
7. With a view to some prompts: Spell Check is your BFF. Don't make Alt!Astrid cry, please?
8. A kinkmeme's more than a promptmeme. Here's
eliade's non-definitive and non-exhaustive (but pretty illustrative) List of Fan-fiction Kinks, Tropes, Clichés, and Fetishes.9. Could you -- in the subject line or the first line of the body of text -- draw attention to the fact there's rape or non-con, major character death, underage, and/or graphic violence in your response (which is the Archive Of Our Own (AO3) policy).
The Thoughts Your Actions Entertain (Lincoln/Olivia/Peter, post-4x16) Part 7
Date: 2012-04-09 03:57 pm (UTC)He's seen her hands tremble, the way Olivia's jaw clenched: not all the time but in flashes, especially when no one is talking to her. When she or her mind go wandering off. Lincoln can't even reconcile the one reality he lives in any more, and Olivia has to juggle two time-lines in her head, each a multi-verse in turn. He's been asking, sure, but Olivia is not exactly the answering type. It's not even him, he's pretty sure. Peter has been looking frustrated as well, these last few days before their New York trip. Lincoln's Is she okay? was met with an uncharacteristically terse Peter response, Does she look to you like she's okay? Which was bad in and by itself but a relief to Lincoln's selfish side, just like Peter's sigh and follow-up: Olivia isn't big on sharing her burden, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't try. And it's not like there's a lot of precedent here: We need to keep an open mind. The look and the light but lingering grip on his biceps that Peter gave him made Lincoln nod and fight down the tingle of heat down his spine. Mute, though, because he didn't know how to breach that this wasn't just about Olivia's memories. It was also about what they'd brought back with them.
He stares at the slightly worse-for-wear door of Peter and Olivia's Hotel Pennsylvania room. Of course they are lodging in #42. Of course. He checks his watch; it's not yet 9pm, and he doesn't want to be early. Lincoln's punctuality has made Peter smile ever since they met, a flash of mirth from someone Lincoln thinks made it a point not to be too predictable. But Lincoln doesn't mind being just that; it's probably a factor in Olivia's invitation earlier this day. The back of Lincoln's neck prickles. They're all adults and agents, respectively former rogues, too; he's pretty sure the famed Dunham & Bishop duo has deduced his prior relationship with Robert and Julie. But what went so well with the two of them until death did part them always felt unique, once-in-a-lifetime.
Then again, none of these words hold much truth any more in what are, after all, ever-shifting universes. That you can travel forward and backward and bend to your will sometimes. He should try some of that just about now.
Lincoln tries to calm himself down, calm his body down, because this could all be a huge misunderstanding, and walking in with the beginnings of a hard-on would just add extra sprinkles to the problem sundae. He knocks on the door, firmly.
Olivia opens it, and God, she's breathtaking, back-lit. Her hair is open and in slight disarray as if she's just taken out the ribbon holding it back so sternly; single strands are falling into her face. The blush on her cheeks definitely doesn't stem from a make-up box. "Come in."
Into the fray, which of course is just an ordinary, a little old-fashioned hotel room. But it holds the infinite attraction of a nervous, smiling Olivia, plus Peter lounging in a chair and stretching out his long-long legs as if he were perfectly relaxed. Which he isn't. Lincoln knows him even less well than he knows Olivia, but Lincoln's not become an FBI analyst because of his pretty face. "Hi," he breathes, then can't help but give a little laugh at the expressions on both their faces. "Wow, this is awkward."
Peter's face eases into a grin, "And to think that's only just the beginning." He catches Lincoln's gaze. "If that's what you want."
"Yes." The word is out before Lincoln can even think, let alone carefully consider his next move. Dimly, he wonders if they should even discuss Olivia's mind and the mess it must be right now, but she seems very much in this moment (and no other).
Olivia looks pleased and surprised when she looks from Peter to him. "Right, the two of you already have an understanding; that's great." There's humour in her voice, tentative, but it's there. "I don't really know how to say it, Lincoln."
Lincoln smiles at her, and it's easy now because when she looks at him, longing and -- a lot more in her eyes, he knows hasn't misread anything at all. "I thought you two would have a cleverly devised plan." He looks around the room. "Or at least champagne."
He would never have bet on it, but Olivia giggles, glancing down. "Peter actually proposed we get some -- three bottles, he said, one eyebrow raised. He thinks that's cute."
"Well it is," Lincoln says before he can second-guess himself, and he loves the low chuckle from Peter in response.
"Told you so, 'livia." There's more than one meaning in this, and Lincoln may have to reconsider his behavioural patterns, because even though Peter is bound to be great at pin-pointing people's true motivations, it's still a little disconcerting that Lincoln's reaction to him him was that obvious. "But you should tell him something."
Olivia snorts, softly, and Lincoln grimaces. "Um, that sounds suspiciously like, throw the poor boy a bone."
"The things I could say...and all of them are double entendres." Peter's smirk is devilish, delighted. Most of all it's real.
"Lincoln," Olivia says and takes a deep breath before coming up to him. Lincoln thinks he should probably looks at something else but her mouth. But it's too much of a challenge right now. "I'm not particularly good with emotions -- putting emotions into words. But." Her smile is so...intimate when she takes his hand, laces his fingers with his. Olivia tugs and Lincoln steps up, steps so close that their bodies are touching and the world shrinks to envelop only this hotel room. With her other hand she touches her fingertips to his cheek, to steady him or her or maybe both, and okay, yes, this is really happening; she's really going --
Olivia's lips are on his, sweet but insistent, and Lincoln opens his mouth. He can't help the shiver and reaches out, blindly, sliding his hands into the small of her back to pull her to him a little harder than intended. Olivia melts into his embrace, kisses him hungrily, as if she's thought about it a dozen, a hundred times, just like him. Her hand slides around his neck, curls around its back to stroke his hair, holds him tight. Possessive. He likes it; he loves how she feels in his arms and how she tastes and oh, he wants more, right now, right here. He wants everything.
When Olivia and he come up for air again, their breathing is definitely not the only thing that's hard. Lincoln doesn't want to let go of her. He mirrors Olivia, though, when she looks back at the armchair and Peter in it. Peter's mouth is half-open, and his eyes are a little glassy. "Okay, you two are just -- there's probably a New York State law against people being this gorgeous."
Olivia laughs, and the roughness of her voice coupled with how joyful she sounds sends another spiral of lust through Lincoln. "What do you think, Peter?"
"Actually," Peter says, his thumb playing with the button of his slacks; there's lot going on below, which makes Lincoln stare before he looks up at Peter's face again, "I'm pretty sure my brain has checked out for the night. Lincoln, I can sit back, if you like."
"This time," Olivia says softly, looking back at Lincoln, her eyes a starburst of green and amber. "I mean, you don't have to -- we both like you. But we haven't done this before," at his millisecond glance over to the chair, the hint of a smile appears on her lips, "no, not even Peter. So we're open to suggestions."
"I guess what we're trying to ask, Lincoln, is -- what do you want?" Peter runs his fingers through his stubble; the soft bristling sound can be heard even these few feet away.
"Oh, um." Lincoln lets his hands slide up again until they are resting lightly on Olivia's hip. He looks at her, then at Peter. "No pressure." He wonders how to tell them: that he's in love with Olivia; that he likes Peter and wants to fuck him and wouldn't mind it the other way around either. Olivia's smile at him is a little lost, but it's luminous, and he smiles back at her. "Can I tell you I'm finally a little freaked out here?"
She does what he'd hoped for, and breaks out into a grin. "Lincoln. Yeah." She laughs, quietly, touches her forehead to his collarbone before exhaling and resting her cheek against his chest. "Me too. Peter too."
"Welcome to the club." Peter's voice is gentle, thoughtful for someone so clearly one inch from shoving his hand down his pants. "I'm not an expert on what people consider normal in the first place -- in fact, I'm pretty sure I don't even remember the concept by now." Peter purses his lips in an expression that reminds Lincoln of no one as much as Olivia. "Olivia's had half a football team living inside her head by now, and let's not even get started on the ever-exciting adventure of keeping two time-lines straight."
"There's nothing straight about this any more." Olivia dead-pans, lifts her head to look at Lincoln. "I think we just have to accept the world as it is, with a twist. And adapt."
"Sometimes you just have to do things differently," Lincoln says slowly, frowns. "Find a new solution together with the ones you love and who love you." It still hurts; he has to look away. It's also a little soon here.
Olivia draws back her hand, but he catches it in his, blinks at her. "It's okay."
"Robert." It's not a question. "He and Julie and you --"
"Yeah." Lincoln knows he's making one of his weird faces but there's no helping it. "After I'd found Robert and her, you see, I thought I was the luckiest guy on earth -- and then he died, and Julie couldn't be with me without him, and I couldn't be with her without him; she and the kids are moving back with her parents in Upstate New York; there's a new head of orthopaedics position opening for her in a university hospital. For me, everything was gone. To feel I can maybe, just maybe," he swallows because yeah, way too early, but what the hell, "have a relationship with people I care for again is...it's pretty overwhelming."
He hears a muttered, Okay, that's it; Jesus, Lincoln, and then Peter is out of the chair and right there, folding them into his arms, Lincoln and Olivia both, and Lincoln shudders and leans into Peter's embrace, breathing him in. Lincoln squeezes his eyes shut and listens to their breathing, three sets of lungs. He doesn't know long it takes for them to even out, in sync, but they slowly do, and only then does Lincoln open his eyes again.
Re: The Thoughts Your Actions Entertain (Lincoln/Olivia/Peter, post-4x16) Part 7
Date: 2012-04-09 07:37 pm (UTC)Re: The Thoughts Your Actions Entertain (Lincoln/Olivia/Peter, post-4x16) Part 7
Date: 2012-04-09 07:38 pm (UTC)There will be some sexin' next, I promise...
Re: The Thoughts Your Actions Entertain (Lincoln/Olivia/Peter, post-4x16) Part 7
Date: 2012-04-09 07:49 pm (UTC)Lincoln shudders and leans into Peter's embrace, breathing him in. Lincoln squeezes his eyes shut and listens to their breathing, three sets of lungs. He doesn't know long it takes for them to even out, in sync, but they slowly do, and only then does Lincoln open his eyes again.
MY HEART JUST SWELLED AND BURST. I can't think of anything else non-keysmashy to say besides 1) this is perfect - and more than I had dared to hope for when I prompted it 2) I LOVE YOU THANK YOU and 3) how can we get you on the show's writing team to make Lincoln happy there too? :) <3
Re: The Thoughts Your Actions Entertain (Lincoln/Olivia/Peter, post-4x16) Part 7
Date: 2012-04-09 07:56 pm (UTC)And that we -- we fans, at least -- all love Lincoln.
♥