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escritoireazulTitle: memory in oil, sweat, blood
Author: Carla
Disclaimer: Characters from The Fast and the Furious belong to Rob Cohen and others.
Rating: 14+ for language and sexual topics
Author's note: First I wrote "always she is dominant" from Letty's point of view, then![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
shisaiyan wrote "He Thinks of Her" as a comment sequel from the new woman's point of view, and now this is the next in the line from Dominic's perspective.
Summary: During the day he drives too fast and at night he dreams.
He has a new girl now. That’s what he asks, “Are you my girl?” She always nods and laughs and grabs his hands while she tells him yes with her lips against his mouth, his chest, every inch of his skin. She reminds him of the past, around the eyes and the mouth and she knows he stills carries old pictures in his wallet. She feels good against him, beneath him, beside him in the dark. The sheets stick to their bodies where sweat slicks their skin. He doesn’t think he’s ever called her Letty.
The desert heat bakes the top of his head. He doesn’t know how Letty can stand all that hair, plastered to her forehead and the back of her neck. Los Angeles forgets it was once dry wasteland. He can tell, can feel the desolation just beyond the streets.
His new girl loves to ride bitch and puts her feet on the dashboard and laughs whenever he takes a corner too sharp and she’s thrown up against him. Her hands curve around his arm as she holds herself in place. He shows off sometimes, hits the NOS, and she looks at him like he’s a driving god come down to earth. She doesn’t race or drive that fast or know the first thing about an engine.
Letty drives like she fucks like she talks like she tears down an engine: hard and fast. She puts his hands on her breasts and steers him with the twitch of her hips. She screams and grunts dirty words into his ear and thrusts down so hard it almost hurts. He always comes in sparks and electric clarity and it’s better than one quarter mile at a time.
Dom doesn’t promise his new girl anything. He touches her and makes her smile and doesn’t talk about the future or the past imperfect. He rebuilds cars in the desert and takes her to the shore whenever the heat is too much, which is often. During the day and into the evening he doesn’t think about the team or his family or Letty.
Letty tastes like blood when he kisses her and he knows it’s the last time. Her body is bruised and broken and she looks at him with haunted eyes, shadows crossing her face. She knows Jesse’s dead and Vince might be soon. She knows he can’t keep the promises he made and they’ll never relax in Baja.
At night, when he dreams, he’s by Letty’s side once more. Sometimes he drives and she laughs and flashes white teeth and her breasts in easy movements. In other dreams, she’s behind the wheel, arms straight and hands tight as she concentrates, confident in all she does. No matter what, she’s in control. Other cars join them as they flee across the desert, into freedom and the way things were meant to be.
When he wakes, he misses her strength and her dominance. Mostly he misses the way she made him home.
Author: Carla
Disclaimer: Characters from The Fast and the Furious belong to Rob Cohen and others.
Rating: 14+ for language and sexual topics
Author's note: First I wrote "always she is dominant" from Letty's point of view, then
shisaiyan wrote "He Thinks of Her" as a comment sequel from the new woman's point of view, and now this is the next in the line from Dominic's perspective.Summary: During the day he drives too fast and at night he dreams.
He has a new girl now. That’s what he asks, “Are you my girl?” She always nods and laughs and grabs his hands while she tells him yes with her lips against his mouth, his chest, every inch of his skin. She reminds him of the past, around the eyes and the mouth and she knows he stills carries old pictures in his wallet. She feels good against him, beneath him, beside him in the dark. The sheets stick to their bodies where sweat slicks their skin. He doesn’t think he’s ever called her Letty.
The desert heat bakes the top of his head. He doesn’t know how Letty can stand all that hair, plastered to her forehead and the back of her neck. Los Angeles forgets it was once dry wasteland. He can tell, can feel the desolation just beyond the streets.
His new girl loves to ride bitch and puts her feet on the dashboard and laughs whenever he takes a corner too sharp and she’s thrown up against him. Her hands curve around his arm as she holds herself in place. He shows off sometimes, hits the NOS, and she looks at him like he’s a driving god come down to earth. She doesn’t race or drive that fast or know the first thing about an engine.
Letty drives like she fucks like she talks like she tears down an engine: hard and fast. She puts his hands on her breasts and steers him with the twitch of her hips. She screams and grunts dirty words into his ear and thrusts down so hard it almost hurts. He always comes in sparks and electric clarity and it’s better than one quarter mile at a time.
Dom doesn’t promise his new girl anything. He touches her and makes her smile and doesn’t talk about the future or the past imperfect. He rebuilds cars in the desert and takes her to the shore whenever the heat is too much, which is often. During the day and into the evening he doesn’t think about the team or his family or Letty.
Letty tastes like blood when he kisses her and he knows it’s the last time. Her body is bruised and broken and she looks at him with haunted eyes, shadows crossing her face. She knows Jesse’s dead and Vince might be soon. She knows he can’t keep the promises he made and they’ll never relax in Baja.
At night, when he dreams, he’s by Letty’s side once more. Sometimes he drives and she laughs and flashes white teeth and her breasts in easy movements. In other dreams, she’s behind the wheel, arms straight and hands tight as she concentrates, confident in all she does. No matter what, she’s in control. Other cars join them as they flee across the desert, into freedom and the way things were meant to be.
When he wakes, he misses her strength and her dominance. Mostly he misses the way she made him home.
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Mmm...
Date: 2005-03-09 03:06 am (UTC)Re: Mmm...
Date: 2005-03-09 07:37 am (UTC)"She never lets us forget"
Date: 2005-03-10 04:56 am (UTC)She fucks hard and long, always with her eyes closed, her fists clenched on my chest, never looking at me, never speaking, except to give orders in a hoarse, throaty voice, "Harder," or "Deeper", but not my name. There's another name on her lips, even though she never says it out loud, another face in her mind, another body beneath her. Behind those closed eyes is another place and time. All of us know it, none of us speak of it. We stay, knowing it isn't us she wants, but unable to leave. She's like a drug, addicting. She's pushy and mean and sexy as hell and I can't get enough of her.
So I ignore it when she closes her eyes, when she bites her lip as she comes to keep from screaming a name that isn't mine. I try not to listen at night, when she whimpers in her sleep. That's the only time she's ever weak, when she's dreaming. I refuse to see what she's seeing when she stops working for a minute, wiping her arm and streaks of grease across her face, when she lets the tools hang loosely in her hands and leans on the car, staring into the engine, but not seeing the metal and grease.
I'm not Dominic. I'm not a racing god. I'm not her god. None of us are. And she'll never let us forget.
Re: "She never lets us forget"
Date: 2005-03-10 05:16 am (UTC)I'm sorry, that's all I've got right now. I'll try to give understandable feedback later but my mind is blown.
Re: "She never lets us forget"
Date: 2005-03-13 06:11 am (UTC)Re: "She never lets us forget"
Date: 2005-03-14 02:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-04 11:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-11 03:25 pm (UTC)You made me so happy with this comment, thank you!