Santa Clara Commentary, Part II

Continued from here...

So, I had a City, and there were a few characters living there.  A few moved over from the nowhere land over on my main LJ, like Phillip and George, others were made out of whole cloth.  Jonah was an idea I had for National Novel Writing Month in 2002 but never got written as such, as I couldn't get a grip on his partner.  Lorna (Cicirossi) stepped up his guy, but they have yet to be written--not very loud muses. 

There is the filthy rich (Charles and Michael) and the dirt poor (Dove and Damon).  The college kids, Nolan and Clark, are quietly talking all the time, telling me about their somewhat complicated relationship and a fling with Ryce.  Plus Stacey and Joshua have recently come to light, tied in with the college and another couple, Matt and Diarmad.  Matt is interesting as he's my only disabled character.  And then there is Max and Trey, middle aged and long term, very sweet and easy-going.

But the characters who've had the most screen time are Dove and Damon; or rather, just Dove.  Dove first appeared in a comment on the Out Lines LJ, in response to a post by Cindy. I had him talk a little further, and a story was born.  Dove is the only muse I have who is completely tied to someone eles's story; he was sort of born of Simon, and what he does with Simon is directly responsible for what happens in the rest of his story and how his relationship with Damon developes. 

It's very odd, writing 'the other man' to Simon and Jay's relationship.  I like Simon and Jay; I care about them and want them together.  I know that it is entirely possible that people can, and probably do, resent Dove's role in Simon's life--it happens when people get involved with the story and care about the characters.  I worry that people will dislike Dove because Simon goes to him.  I worry that people will dislike Dove because, frankly, he's not a very likable boy.  But I love writing him.

He's the most complex character I have and the one who has developed the most.  He's got depth and range.  He's got real problems, and real issues.  He's challenging to write, but at the same time easy.  I don't understand him, and I think that the drive to know what makes him tick keeps me interested, much more than it would if he were simply another pretty boy.

And I love writing him with Simon.  Honestly, it turns me on.  Perhaps that is because Cindy is so fantastic, her ideas and the way her style of writing hits my buttons.  Simon is... beautiful and damaged and so vocal--he and Dove play off each other in a way that makes it easy to write.  They hit my kinks--and I don't mean the flogging, which does nothing for me.  It's the need, the pain and anger they both hold, but the desperation they bring to each other that makes me want more and more. 

Do I want Simon and Dove together?  Nope.  I can't see those two in any sort of real relationship, even in a universe without Jay.  They would most likely hurt each other in real physical ways.  They are both too damaged to sustain any sort of romantic relationship.  Does Dove love Simon?  Yes.  In some real way he longs for Simon, wants to be with him.  But it won't happen, and I don't think that the feelings he has are those of being 'in love'.  Physical obsession, yes.  A longing for something he can't have and knows he shouldn't have. 

They're nice to look at though.  :-)

This is the first story Cindy and I wrote together, of which there are two versions.  Dove had developed a lot since this, but his essence is very much present.  We wrote the story in Simon's POV, but I really wanted to get to know Dove a bit better, so with Cindy's permission I went back over the story almost immediately and re wrote it in Dove's POV, pulling the action and dialogue from the original.  So, without further mucking about, here is the mirror to Dove and Simon's first time.

Dove and Simon
Dove's POV
By Byrne and Cindy
NC-17; kink-bondage, whipping, generally nastiness.
Archived at Pastorale, Bellum Viri

Dove paced the length of the bar twice, trying to work it out of his system. He'd been a good boy, not come to the club in almost a week and a half, and what had it gotten him? Wired for sound. Even then he was trying to be something else, but whatever it is inside him always draws him into the club.  I don't think he'll ever lose the need to hurt, to lash out.  It's who he is.  But he's always trying to be normal.

He couldn't be still; his blood was moving too fast and the dull roar behind his ears was almost deafening, and he was so hard he was scared he'd start to ache. He walked again, checking out the action. A guy bent over the kneeler getting spanked. Big deal. The next guy up looked slightly more interesting-he was just there to use the equipment on his slave, which could be interesting. If the relationship was deep there was potential for blood play. Which would make Dove happy. He was so keyed up he needed blood; he preferred to draw it, but in a pinch watching could be okay. I remember typing this out--Cindy and I had never written together, but we'd been tossing the idea of this around for a few days.   I was mostly worried that she'd think I'm some kind of freak.  :P

Damon wasn't even around to help him out, to take him into the john and get him off properly. Fuck knew where he was, but he'd made it clear that he wouldn't be out tonight. Dove didn't like that much, but there wasn't anything he could do about it, except show up at Not a Nice Place and hope he got a request.

He moved again, back down the bar and to the tables, stopping when the whipping master waved him over.

"You gotta calm down, Dove. You look fucking scary, and in this place that's saying something. Where's your keeper?"

"Don't have a keeper." Dove knew he sounded petulant, but he couldn't help it; every nerve was awake and he was jumping inside. Need. Force. Control.  Little boy lost.

"Damon, then. Where is he?" This was entirely to set Damon up as the man who Dove needed, the only one who get through to Dove and calm him down.  Didn't really develop that way, but I tried. 

"Not here." Dove looked around the dark room. "Okay, I'll go have a drink and a smoke and try to chill. But, shit, man. I gotta play. Tonight."

The master nodded. "You're here, you play. Usually have a line up for you, but you're looking wild around the eyes-they think you're high."

"Not." And he wasn't. If he was he wouldn't be there.  It's one or the other.  Flogging or drugs, Dove doesn't mix the two.  And he needs them for different things.

He wandered over to the bar and got a coke, then back through the crowd. He was about to start pacing again when a regular client-not of his, just of the club-reached out for his arm.

"Dove. You needing?"

Dove looked at the guy and shrugged, then straddled him in his chair, pushing his cock into the guy's groin. "Needing. What are you gonna do?"

The guy grinned. "I'd offer to suck you off, but I've seen your dick. No way I could." Didn't stop the man from undoing Dove's jeans and pulling his cock out though, or from stroking him hard. "This do?"  Setting Dove up as something other than a one man man.

Dove groaned and moved into the touch, pushing his balls against the guy. Just take the edge off, stop scaring the toys off…

"Dove." A hand on his shoulder and the master was saying he was up next, after the master/slave team.

"Busy. Trying to get off here."  And not terribly business minded when there was an orgasm in the future.

The master tightened the grip on his shoulder. "Can see that. But someone wants you *with* your edge. Save it."

Now that was interesting. Someone who wasn't scared, who had just stopped him from blowing his load. "He know that I'm going to be really nasty if I don't shoot?"

"Yeah. I think that's the point."

Dove stood up and tucked himself back into his pants. "Grand. Let's see if he's got what it takes."  The promise of real play was the first way to get Dove's interest, and the thing that interested Dove about Simon first.

He took his time moving to the stage while the client was bound to his specifications. Dove never did the binding, it didn't interest him.  And I don't know enough about it to write it... What turned him on was the actual playing, the marking and the feeling of control. When the guy was naked and bound Dove took off his shirt and stepped into the light, right in front of him.

"Hello. My name is Dove and I am going to hurt you. Very much."  I love this line.  He's purring, dangerous.

The guy grinned at him, all teeth and hunger. "My name is Simon and I reckon you will."  Cocky bastard.  Love him.  :-)

Dove smiled back at him. This one thought he was tough; with any luck he was. "Well, Simon," he said, stressing the name, "what shall we play with tonight? Whip, crop or cat?"

"Feel like a good flog, luv. Cat."

Dove felt a tingle settle in the base of his spine. The cat required more control than the crop, demanded more of him. Good. He stepped from the light and picked up his favourite, a lovely toy made of soft leather that would sing so nicely. He let the tails play over his hand and suppressed another shudder.

"Do you want to bleed?" Dove hoped he did. He really hoped.  Ah, my poor, sick boy.  It was a good thing Cindy and I had set this up before hand--I'd hate to think that I'd type that on the spur of the moment.  Mind you, when I get in Dove's head space strange things happen.

Simon just grinned. "Why do you think I'm here? Yeah, I wanna bleed."

He looked Simon up and down. He was hot, all lean predator, with long lines and lean, slinky hips. He had a nipple ring, one in his eyebrow beneath sun bleached hair and he had a fucking Prince Albert in his cock. Dove tried not to drool. Simon looked delicious.  I love that slinky hip thing--that's so how I picture Simon.  Predator who walks hips first, telling the world he's top cock.  Mmm.

"You want to come for me, Simon?" He rubbed at his belly with one hand, wondering what it would be like to just fuck this guy some time. Well, he found out.  Took some time, but he did it.  And that was another Uhn moment for me.  *fans self* Just not now. Certainly not now. "Or do you have someone out there you're saving it for?"  To establish Jay's existence.

Something flashed through Simon's eyes that Dove didn't understand. Dove at this point was incapable of understanding Simon's relationship with Jay and how it hurts Simon to hurt Jay, even though he can't help it.  I think he'll eventually get it, but he so completely didn't back then.   He didn't bother trying to figure it out; it wasn't any concern of his.

"Wanna come for them," Simon said, nodding to the audience. "And for you."  Purrrr

"Ah. It's all about the show. I get that." And he did. Being on display was a big part of why he did this. Dove stepped behind Simon and got a rubber and lube ready. This one was going to feel so good around his cock. Can I say 'meep' here?  Meep. 

"Any special requests before I get your safe word and we start to play? I don't usually let people ask for anything, but I think I like you. Anything you want?"  This was me being curious.  I threw this out to see if Cindy had anything in particular she wanted.

Simon just looked at him. "Just to make it good. Reckon you know what you're doing."

Dove nodded. "I do. You are going to hurt so nicely…" He shook his head and stood straighter. Time for the business part to be done with. Time to play. He called the whipping master over and asked, "Safe word?"

"Keener."  I love this.  I love that Simon uses his real last name, I love that Cindy is consistent about it.

"Keener," Dove said dutifully. He hoped he didn't hear it again. He wanted to make Simon hurt exquisitely. I dislike the word 'exquisitely' here.  It's not Dove's word, it's mine--I couldn't come up with a word he would use, though.   He hoped Simon could take what he had to offer; the promise was there, in his eyes, and Dove really needed to play with someone who could go the distance this time.  Same with 'go the distance'.  eck.

Dove waited until the master had melted away into the dark and then waited a moment longer. He was hard and getting harder; he felt his cock twitch as he played with the cat. Finally he stepped behind Simon and looked at the faint scars on his skin.

He traced one line, thick and white. A crop, most likely. "Someone was very bad at this," he said softly, mostly to himself. Another line, this one fine and delicate. "And someone else was very good."  I love that part, though.

He raised his arm. "I'm better."  And this is just so perfectly Dove. 

He brought the cat down on Simon's back and smiled as he jumped a little and cried out. Some people made it a point to stay silent, not to break. Dove liked to hear.

He kept his blows random, kept himself thinking. It was too easy to fall into a one-two-three rhythm and Dove really wanted this to be good. Simon was arching into the cat, every line strained, his cock standing out, proud and hard.

Someone in the crowd came with a gasp and a sigh and Dove rubbed at his cock through his jeans. Soon. Needed to make him bleed first, needed to keep the edge.

Dove danced. He was the light and he flowed around Simon, touching and cutting and hurting and soothing. He made patterns on his back and ass, let them tell his story. He let his pain out through the knots and let them break Simon's flesh; he watched as their pain bled out through Simon's back and he felt his heart start to race.

Blood was in the air and they were both caught up in it. Simon's head had fallen forward, but now he was arched back, his head tipped back, every muscle straining. He needed to come and he needed it now. I like this entire passage, I like the description of Dove's head space.  Not being in the scene, I have no idea how accurate it is, but I like the way I conveyed *Dove's* thinking.

Dove did too.

He kept up with the cat, concentrating as hard as he could, his other hand working at his jeans. He paused long enough to push them down and roll the rubber on, then he flogged him once more before dropping the cat and grabbing Simon's hips.  Damn condoms.  I hate writing condoms, but oh so needed. 

He thrust in roughly, going as deep as he could. Fuck, but Simon was perfect like this.Er... as opposed to all the other times he'd seen him?  My bad. Exactly what he'd needed.

"Now," he said in Simon's ear. "Come for them, Simon. Come on my cock."  I'm afraid 'Come on my cock' is a catch phrase of mine.  Oops.

Simon came. His entire body spasmed and gripped at Dove; he shot and shot, come pouring out of his cock onto the floor. Someone else in the audience came, his cries covering the sounds that Simon was making. Dove thrust deep a couple of times and the tingle that had been in his spine since he'd seen Simon burst into flame and he exploded, coming hard in Simon's ass, riding out Simon's orgasm.  Oh, how many ways can we write an orgasm?  LOL

He pulled out as soon as he'd stopped shooting, ditching the rubber fast. He held Simon up as his arms and legs were released.  Only 'cause it was either that or let him fall...

No one came to get him, no lover appeared to take him away and care for his back.  See?

"You got anyone to take care of you? Bandage you?" I'll admit that at this point I was kind of thinking... "oh.  Now what?  Eek!"

Simon laughed. "Here, you mean? No. My... my boy... won't come with... hates the blood, he does."

Dove snorted softly. Damon would most likely get on really well with Simon's boy. True enough. "Yeah, I know how that feels. Let me know when you can walk and I'll take you to the back, get you cleaned up and bandaged."  And for the first time we see the softer side of Dove.  Not much, but it's there.

"Ta, luv. Give me fifteen minutes."

Dove eased them to the floor and waited for Simon to get some strength back. He stretched his legs and noticed he'd neglected something and stood up to close his jeans. Whatever. "Needed that," he offered. It was true, might as well say it. "You get the itch again, come back and ask for me. I'll treat you right."   Set up a next time.  I knew by then that I wanted these two together again--I loved writing with Cindy, liked being focussed on Simon.

"Believe that," Simon said, settling against him.

He pulled Simon closer, wanting to share some body heat so the guy didn't freeze. Simon almost fell asleep, and said, "Think it's about time for the clean-up and bandage, Dove. Falling asleep here."

Dove took him to what they called the nurse's room, though there wasn't a nurse other than whoever wanted to wield the spray bottle of antiseptic. In this case it was Dove. He got Simon cleaned up and told him to sleep.

Dove wanted out. He wanted a drink and he wanted a bed.

He wanted to go to Damon's. He needed cuddles.  And then he needed to nail Damon against the nearest wall.

He'd needed what Simon had for him. They worked well together. "Come back sometime, Simon," he said as he left.

He hoped he would.

Ta da! 

And so ends this commentary.  Next up is Centaurs!