Fic: The Abacus of Rain
Oct. 14th, 2009 05:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sasha_featherTitle: The Abacus of Rain
Author:sasha_feather
Fandom/pairing: SG1/SGA; Evan Lorne/Jonas Quinn
For![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
kink_bingo, Wet and messy/dirty
Length: ~2400 words
Warnings/Spoilers: none beyond the prompt
Disclaimer: characters don't belong to me. For fun not profit.
Rating: NC-17
Beta/notes:anna_bird, fullygoldy, anatratrope, who are sooooo awesome! Title is an Elvis Perkins lyric.
I am a little surprised that I wrote SG-1 fic. The original inspiration for this fic came from a kissing festival atthingswithwings journal in January. I finally wrote it!
Summary: "Jesus, Quinn, if I knew you'd be this easy, I would've said something earlier," Lorne said. He leaned down and kissed Jonas, skipping exploratory and going straight for dirty. One thing Jonas liked about the Tau'ri was their tendency for oral fixation.
He'd noticed Evan Lorne early on in that way one notices someone and then tries not to, later, tries to forget about them. But Jonas Quinn was bad at forgetting. That was one of the problems with a memory like his, everything stuck indiscriminately. He remembered especially Sam's face as she took him aside and told him what he could and could not say. Could and could not do.
"Don't, for one thing," she'd said, "call men 'pretty.' That's a word reserved for girls and young women." They'd been standing alone in a closed office of the SGC, and he could recall it perfectly: Her voice tight, hard-edged: she was angry, but was she angry at him? He didn't know her well enough to tell, then. But there was definitely more going on there than a commander laying out the rules for someone under her command. There were a lot of rules in the concrete bunker, many that made no sense whatsoever, like who you could and could not flirt with, officially, or even have sex with, at least so long as anyone else knew about it at all; and rules about what words you could use to describe yourself and others, and when. He became quieter, more watchful. He smiled at everyone, defensively. A few women flirted with him and he attempted to flirt back. He did his best not to flirt with the men.
He read and worked and learned. Months passed. He tried not to think too much about home nor the people he left there.
It was not true that Lorne looked like anyone he'd ever seen before, Jonas mused as they walked through rain forest on P4X-598. It was more that Lorne's carriage and manner felt familiar to him. He felt like someone Jonas had met before, long ago, even though it wasn't possible. SG-1 and SG-11 were escorting refugees cross-country to a new settlement. It would take a week at least; a week in which he would have to try not to stare at, try not to think about Evan Lorne. Try not to look at his eyebrows, his lips, his broad shoulders. Jonas shook his head in frustration, wiping raindrops off his forehead. It rained all the time on this planet.
Teal'c fell into step beside him for a moment. "Is everything all right, Jonas Quinn?"
"Yeah, Teal'c, I'm fine."
Teal'c just quirked an eyebrow and said nothing.
He left their shared tent that night and jerked off in the rain, leaning against a tree. It felt forced and didn't help as much as it should have. He came back to the tent with rain-soaked clothes and had a hard time getting warm again even after he stripped down and bundled himself into a tight sleeping bag. His clothes never did dry that night or any other.
In the past Jonas had found rain to be peaceful, calming. On this mission the rain was only miserable. His boots were soaked through so that his feet sloshed within them. It wasn't a cold climate but being soaked wasn't conducive to warmth, either. The only consolation was that everyone else was equally as drenched. Mud caked everyone's clothing, starting at the boots and moving upwards, soaking through BDUs and caking skin. Sodden packs and clothing were heavier to carry, and his shoulders ached at the end of the day more than Jonas was accustomed to.
His private loneliness, Jonas reminded himself, was nothing compared to the suffering of those around him. He swallowed it down and kept moving, like he had always done.
After five days they reached the settlement, many mouldering stone buildings and foundations in a large clearing. Moss, stone, water, mud, trees: it was a peaceful and earthy place. The rain forest was encroaching upon the clearing and the buildings; now the people would try to claim them back. They began the hard work of security, exploration, carpentry; the hard work of settlement, of building a town. The Tau'ri would see the refugees--the settlers-- through the beginning of it. The teams and the settlers spread out and found jobs that suited each of them, falling into patterns of work and life instead of flight and fear.
By accident rather than design, or at least so he told himself, Jonas worked beside Lorne that first day, taking stock of the remaining buildings. The rain continued steadily. Lorne took photographs with a small digital camera. He paid attention to details in a way that Jonas liked. They talked and worked together easily. Lorne had an easy, friendly manner, curious but respectful.
"Hold that branch back for me, would you?" Lorne said, kneeling down to run his hand over the cornerstone of the old building's foundation, wiping away mud to reveal carved design work. "I want to get a picture of this. The light isn't great here but it'll have to do." He snapped a dozen photos, moving around for different angles. "Whoever did this work, it was well done. Made to last. Here, hold that leaf over us, keep the rain off a bit."
Jonas gave him a hand up, their muddy palms gripping tightly. Jonas didn't think he imagined the spark, the tension, and his eyes lifted up and met Lorne's as if drawn there. Lorne was still grasping his hand, smiling a little, but his smile faded away into something else. Lorne rubbed his thumb over the back of Jonas' hand, in the wide place between thumb and first finger: a little muddy circle. Then he slowly released his grip, smiled, and moved away. Jonas stood for a moment, confused, feeling the echo of Lorne's fingers on his hand.
Lorne looked over his shoulder once, smiled, made that encouraging "come on" motion with his chin. He was walking into the trees. All at once, Jonas moved forward, quickly following him.
They stopped at a place maybe two hundred meters from the settlement, at a small moss-covered grotto, and only then because Lorne stumbled on a downslope, sliding on the mud and falling onto his ass. Jonas reached out to give him a hand up, but Lorne grabbed his wrist and pulled him down, down on top of himself, so bold and masculine a move that Jonas was breathless and unbelievably aroused. He wrestled back some, his arms around Lorne's neck and shoulders, sliding against the rain-soaked fabric of his TAC vest and BDUs, his booted feet sliding in the mud and failing to find purchase. Lorne pinned him easily, laughing, and wow, Lorne's face was absolutely beautiful when he laughed.
"Jesus, Quinn, if I knew you'd be this easy, I would've said something earlier," Lorne said. He leaned down and kissed Jonas, skipping exploratory and going straight for dirty. One thing Jonas liked about the Tau'ri was their tendency for oral fixation.
"You still haven't said anything," Jonas said, just to see what would happen. His head was in a puddle and he didn't even care. It was a nice puddle.
"Oh yeah? You mean like, do you want me to suck your dick? Or do you want to suck mine?"
"I was just thinking about oral fixation," Jonas said. "Let's start with yours." They kissed for a while, and Lorne rolled off him, moving them toward a patch of moss and trees where they could get their feet on the ground a bit more securely. The giant trees and rain made a curtain around them; it felt like they were the only two people on the world.
"Stand up," Jonas said, and Lorne complied, leaning against a huge tree. Jonas took his time undoing the fastening on Lorne's trousers, wresting them down--they were wet and tight and stuck to his skin. He breathed in Lorne's scent. He nuzzled pale skin and dark hair. He wrapped one hand around the wide base of Lorne's cock and heard Lorne hiss.
"Sorry," he said, releasing Lorne's cock immediately.
"No, I didn't mean..." Lorne said. "It's just that your hands are freezing. And also pretty muddy."
"Right," he said. Jonas looked around helplessly at his soaked clothes, his soaked pack laying nearby. He had no way to clean his hands.
Lorne looked confused for a second before his face cleared into pure want. "Do it again."
Jonas grinned and grabbed a little tighter than before. With his free hand he grabbed a little more mud from the ground and slicked it around Lorne's balls. He took the cockhead into his mouth at the same time and started to suck.
"Jesus! Is this the way guys do it on Kelowna?"
Jonas didn't answer, he just kept on with it, licking, sucking, finding his rhythm. Lorne's cock was hot and clean and perfect in his mouth. Lorne's fingers were on his neck and in his hair and over his ears, sketching patterns absently.
"Well if it is, good-- good idea," Lorne said roughly, and came. His fingers tightened briefly around Jonas' ears, and he shook a bit; Jonas held still, swallowing, breathing.
Lorne's eyes were half-closed, his mouth partway open. "Just give me a minute while I process how strangely awesome that was," His trousers and shorts were still half-way down his thighs, his shirt mussed and partly unbuttoned. Mud streaked his face and caked in his hair. He looked amazing.
"OK, your turn," Lorne said, and knelt down to where he could kiss Jonas some more. He was a pushy kisser, and it seemed that he wanted Jonas' shirt off. Jonas happily helped him. They got in each other's way a little bit trying to get clothes off-- Jonas' wet over shirt and undershirt, and some of Lorne's clothes, too. Lorne kissed and licked Jonas' nipples and traced kisses down his belly, he thumbed open Jonas' trousers and ran his fingernails through the hair he exposed. Jonas lay back on his elbows on the mossy ground and watched. The rain kept falling, a steady drizzle, a calming sound.
Lorne muddied his hand and traced it over Jonas' nipple, lightly. "You like this too? Is this like, a thing?"
"A 'thing'?" Jonas laughed breathlessly. "Sure, I guess it can be. Whatever you want, Major."
"Jesus, don't call me Major. Unless that's part of the thing? Are you into the uniform too?"
"Everyone here wears a uniform. No, I'm not into the uniform."
"Good. Call me Evan."
"Evan."
Evan traced his muddy hands all over Jonas' torso, over hip bones and thighs, as if he were reading Jonas' body with his hands. Evan straddled his thighs and held him down, leaned over him to suck Jonas' dick into his mouth. Jonas' body went loose and warm, his head fell back, and noises came up out of his throat that didn't sound like him at all. The words he said in Kelownan were more blessings than curses. Lorne's--Evan's--hands felt cold, gritty, slippery, rough; the fingertips calloused, the mud and water making them slide over his skin and leave trails marking their passage. His mouth was hot and slow and almost unbearable. Jonas' hips jerked but had nowhere to go.
"Fingers," Evan murmured. "Do you like fingers?"
"Uhhh?" was all Jonas could manage at first, and Lorne held up a hand with wiggling digits, and then Jonas got it, and nodded enthusiastically, a new wave of desire washing over him.
A finger massaging his asshole, sliding inside, finger-fucking him, added on top of all the other sensations, and he was gone, gone, lost somewhere in space and time, coming into Evan's mouth, and Evan was holding onto him, bringing him back down.
After a little while, Evan said, "That was amazing. Really. Great idea. But maybe next time we can try someplace a little warmer. Maybe even a place with hot showers and beds. Uh, if you want there to be a next time."
"Yes. Please. Tomorrow?" Jonas grinned. Then his grin faded as he thought of something. "Will we have to account for this time? How careful do we have to be here?"
Evan frowned. "Our teams are fine with it, really, I know them all well enough to know that. But it's always better to be more careful than less. We can come up with a story. I know, it sucks. Well, 'sucks' maybe isn't the right word, given recent evidence of how great sucking can be..." He smirked. "Anyway, let's go get cleaned up. I think there's a stream around here somewhere, we can wash if not dry. I think the indigenous people of this planet go naked. I'm really starting to see why." He manhandled his clothes back on and kept speaking of small things. Jonas grabbed his pack and hurried to catch up as Evan went off into the trees.
It wasn't a stream, it was a wide river, just two klicks from the settlement. It even had a rocky beach. They stripped fully in front of each other, waded into the shallows, and washed themselves and their clothes. The water was warmer than Jonas expected, and he sat down on the pebbled river bed, more relaxed than he'd been in months. His mind settled into a calm place, not empty exactly, but peaceful. At rest.
Lorne finished washing his uniform, wringing it out over the rocks. Jonas was distracted from his own task just watching him-- Evan's wrists and powerful arms, the light brown hairs and suntanned skin, the paler skin of his shoulders and torso. Evan spread his uniform out and the rain let up briefly as if cooperating.
"Hey, you missed a spot," Lorne said, and suddenly a wet hand circled around Jonas from behind and tweaked his nipple.
Jonas yelped and grabbed at Evan's legs. Evan fell easily into the water. They kissed slowly, and Jonas felt like he was a teenager again, sneaking away from his school work for swimming and sex. They kissed and touched lazily, time stretching out into a dream of slow touches, until they were both hard again, then pressed up against each other desperately, chest to chest, hips to hips. Jonas felt the pebbles dig into his ass and kind of enjoyed it. Evan's large hand closed around both their cocks and stroked them together, and they came almost simultaneously, one right after the other. His own fingernails dug into Evan's arm muscles, and released.
"Well I don't like to jinx myself," Evan said as they got dressed again. "But so far this is turning out to be one of my better off-world missions."
Jonas laughed into the the rain, and kissed Evan's wet face.
Author:
sasha_featherFandom/pairing: SG1/SGA; Evan Lorne/Jonas Quinn
For
kink_bingo, Wet and messy/dirtyLength: ~2400 words
Warnings/Spoilers: none beyond the prompt
Disclaimer: characters don't belong to me. For fun not profit.
Rating: NC-17
Beta/notes:
anna_bird, fullygoldy, anatratrope, who are sooooo awesome! Title is an Elvis Perkins lyric.I am a little surprised that I wrote SG-1 fic. The original inspiration for this fic came from a kissing festival at
thingswithwings journal in January. I finally wrote it!Summary: "Jesus, Quinn, if I knew you'd be this easy, I would've said something earlier," Lorne said. He leaned down and kissed Jonas, skipping exploratory and going straight for dirty. One thing Jonas liked about the Tau'ri was their tendency for oral fixation.
He'd noticed Evan Lorne early on in that way one notices someone and then tries not to, later, tries to forget about them. But Jonas Quinn was bad at forgetting. That was one of the problems with a memory like his, everything stuck indiscriminately. He remembered especially Sam's face as she took him aside and told him what he could and could not say. Could and could not do.
"Don't, for one thing," she'd said, "call men 'pretty.' That's a word reserved for girls and young women." They'd been standing alone in a closed office of the SGC, and he could recall it perfectly: Her voice tight, hard-edged: she was angry, but was she angry at him? He didn't know her well enough to tell, then. But there was definitely more going on there than a commander laying out the rules for someone under her command. There were a lot of rules in the concrete bunker, many that made no sense whatsoever, like who you could and could not flirt with, officially, or even have sex with, at least so long as anyone else knew about it at all; and rules about what words you could use to describe yourself and others, and when. He became quieter, more watchful. He smiled at everyone, defensively. A few women flirted with him and he attempted to flirt back. He did his best not to flirt with the men.
He read and worked and learned. Months passed. He tried not to think too much about home nor the people he left there.
It was not true that Lorne looked like anyone he'd ever seen before, Jonas mused as they walked through rain forest on P4X-598. It was more that Lorne's carriage and manner felt familiar to him. He felt like someone Jonas had met before, long ago, even though it wasn't possible. SG-1 and SG-11 were escorting refugees cross-country to a new settlement. It would take a week at least; a week in which he would have to try not to stare at, try not to think about Evan Lorne. Try not to look at his eyebrows, his lips, his broad shoulders. Jonas shook his head in frustration, wiping raindrops off his forehead. It rained all the time on this planet.
Teal'c fell into step beside him for a moment. "Is everything all right, Jonas Quinn?"
"Yeah, Teal'c, I'm fine."
Teal'c just quirked an eyebrow and said nothing.
He left their shared tent that night and jerked off in the rain, leaning against a tree. It felt forced and didn't help as much as it should have. He came back to the tent with rain-soaked clothes and had a hard time getting warm again even after he stripped down and bundled himself into a tight sleeping bag. His clothes never did dry that night or any other.
In the past Jonas had found rain to be peaceful, calming. On this mission the rain was only miserable. His boots were soaked through so that his feet sloshed within them. It wasn't a cold climate but being soaked wasn't conducive to warmth, either. The only consolation was that everyone else was equally as drenched. Mud caked everyone's clothing, starting at the boots and moving upwards, soaking through BDUs and caking skin. Sodden packs and clothing were heavier to carry, and his shoulders ached at the end of the day more than Jonas was accustomed to.
His private loneliness, Jonas reminded himself, was nothing compared to the suffering of those around him. He swallowed it down and kept moving, like he had always done.
After five days they reached the settlement, many mouldering stone buildings and foundations in a large clearing. Moss, stone, water, mud, trees: it was a peaceful and earthy place. The rain forest was encroaching upon the clearing and the buildings; now the people would try to claim them back. They began the hard work of security, exploration, carpentry; the hard work of settlement, of building a town. The Tau'ri would see the refugees--the settlers-- through the beginning of it. The teams and the settlers spread out and found jobs that suited each of them, falling into patterns of work and life instead of flight and fear.
By accident rather than design, or at least so he told himself, Jonas worked beside Lorne that first day, taking stock of the remaining buildings. The rain continued steadily. Lorne took photographs with a small digital camera. He paid attention to details in a way that Jonas liked. They talked and worked together easily. Lorne had an easy, friendly manner, curious but respectful.
"Hold that branch back for me, would you?" Lorne said, kneeling down to run his hand over the cornerstone of the old building's foundation, wiping away mud to reveal carved design work. "I want to get a picture of this. The light isn't great here but it'll have to do." He snapped a dozen photos, moving around for different angles. "Whoever did this work, it was well done. Made to last. Here, hold that leaf over us, keep the rain off a bit."
Jonas gave him a hand up, their muddy palms gripping tightly. Jonas didn't think he imagined the spark, the tension, and his eyes lifted up and met Lorne's as if drawn there. Lorne was still grasping his hand, smiling a little, but his smile faded away into something else. Lorne rubbed his thumb over the back of Jonas' hand, in the wide place between thumb and first finger: a little muddy circle. Then he slowly released his grip, smiled, and moved away. Jonas stood for a moment, confused, feeling the echo of Lorne's fingers on his hand.
Lorne looked over his shoulder once, smiled, made that encouraging "come on" motion with his chin. He was walking into the trees. All at once, Jonas moved forward, quickly following him.
They stopped at a place maybe two hundred meters from the settlement, at a small moss-covered grotto, and only then because Lorne stumbled on a downslope, sliding on the mud and falling onto his ass. Jonas reached out to give him a hand up, but Lorne grabbed his wrist and pulled him down, down on top of himself, so bold and masculine a move that Jonas was breathless and unbelievably aroused. He wrestled back some, his arms around Lorne's neck and shoulders, sliding against the rain-soaked fabric of his TAC vest and BDUs, his booted feet sliding in the mud and failing to find purchase. Lorne pinned him easily, laughing, and wow, Lorne's face was absolutely beautiful when he laughed.
"Jesus, Quinn, if I knew you'd be this easy, I would've said something earlier," Lorne said. He leaned down and kissed Jonas, skipping exploratory and going straight for dirty. One thing Jonas liked about the Tau'ri was their tendency for oral fixation.
"You still haven't said anything," Jonas said, just to see what would happen. His head was in a puddle and he didn't even care. It was a nice puddle.
"Oh yeah? You mean like, do you want me to suck your dick? Or do you want to suck mine?"
"I was just thinking about oral fixation," Jonas said. "Let's start with yours." They kissed for a while, and Lorne rolled off him, moving them toward a patch of moss and trees where they could get their feet on the ground a bit more securely. The giant trees and rain made a curtain around them; it felt like they were the only two people on the world.
"Stand up," Jonas said, and Lorne complied, leaning against a huge tree. Jonas took his time undoing the fastening on Lorne's trousers, wresting them down--they were wet and tight and stuck to his skin. He breathed in Lorne's scent. He nuzzled pale skin and dark hair. He wrapped one hand around the wide base of Lorne's cock and heard Lorne hiss.
"Sorry," he said, releasing Lorne's cock immediately.
"No, I didn't mean..." Lorne said. "It's just that your hands are freezing. And also pretty muddy."
"Right," he said. Jonas looked around helplessly at his soaked clothes, his soaked pack laying nearby. He had no way to clean his hands.
Lorne looked confused for a second before his face cleared into pure want. "Do it again."
Jonas grinned and grabbed a little tighter than before. With his free hand he grabbed a little more mud from the ground and slicked it around Lorne's balls. He took the cockhead into his mouth at the same time and started to suck.
"Jesus! Is this the way guys do it on Kelowna?"
Jonas didn't answer, he just kept on with it, licking, sucking, finding his rhythm. Lorne's cock was hot and clean and perfect in his mouth. Lorne's fingers were on his neck and in his hair and over his ears, sketching patterns absently.
"Well if it is, good-- good idea," Lorne said roughly, and came. His fingers tightened briefly around Jonas' ears, and he shook a bit; Jonas held still, swallowing, breathing.
Lorne's eyes were half-closed, his mouth partway open. "Just give me a minute while I process how strangely awesome that was," His trousers and shorts were still half-way down his thighs, his shirt mussed and partly unbuttoned. Mud streaked his face and caked in his hair. He looked amazing.
"OK, your turn," Lorne said, and knelt down to where he could kiss Jonas some more. He was a pushy kisser, and it seemed that he wanted Jonas' shirt off. Jonas happily helped him. They got in each other's way a little bit trying to get clothes off-- Jonas' wet over shirt and undershirt, and some of Lorne's clothes, too. Lorne kissed and licked Jonas' nipples and traced kisses down his belly, he thumbed open Jonas' trousers and ran his fingernails through the hair he exposed. Jonas lay back on his elbows on the mossy ground and watched. The rain kept falling, a steady drizzle, a calming sound.
Lorne muddied his hand and traced it over Jonas' nipple, lightly. "You like this too? Is this like, a thing?"
"A 'thing'?" Jonas laughed breathlessly. "Sure, I guess it can be. Whatever you want, Major."
"Jesus, don't call me Major. Unless that's part of the thing? Are you into the uniform too?"
"Everyone here wears a uniform. No, I'm not into the uniform."
"Good. Call me Evan."
"Evan."
Evan traced his muddy hands all over Jonas' torso, over hip bones and thighs, as if he were reading Jonas' body with his hands. Evan straddled his thighs and held him down, leaned over him to suck Jonas' dick into his mouth. Jonas' body went loose and warm, his head fell back, and noises came up out of his throat that didn't sound like him at all. The words he said in Kelownan were more blessings than curses. Lorne's--Evan's--hands felt cold, gritty, slippery, rough; the fingertips calloused, the mud and water making them slide over his skin and leave trails marking their passage. His mouth was hot and slow and almost unbearable. Jonas' hips jerked but had nowhere to go.
"Fingers," Evan murmured. "Do you like fingers?"
"Uhhh?" was all Jonas could manage at first, and Lorne held up a hand with wiggling digits, and then Jonas got it, and nodded enthusiastically, a new wave of desire washing over him.
A finger massaging his asshole, sliding inside, finger-fucking him, added on top of all the other sensations, and he was gone, gone, lost somewhere in space and time, coming into Evan's mouth, and Evan was holding onto him, bringing him back down.
After a little while, Evan said, "That was amazing. Really. Great idea. But maybe next time we can try someplace a little warmer. Maybe even a place with hot showers and beds. Uh, if you want there to be a next time."
"Yes. Please. Tomorrow?" Jonas grinned. Then his grin faded as he thought of something. "Will we have to account for this time? How careful do we have to be here?"
Evan frowned. "Our teams are fine with it, really, I know them all well enough to know that. But it's always better to be more careful than less. We can come up with a story. I know, it sucks. Well, 'sucks' maybe isn't the right word, given recent evidence of how great sucking can be..." He smirked. "Anyway, let's go get cleaned up. I think there's a stream around here somewhere, we can wash if not dry. I think the indigenous people of this planet go naked. I'm really starting to see why." He manhandled his clothes back on and kept speaking of small things. Jonas grabbed his pack and hurried to catch up as Evan went off into the trees.
It wasn't a stream, it was a wide river, just two klicks from the settlement. It even had a rocky beach. They stripped fully in front of each other, waded into the shallows, and washed themselves and their clothes. The water was warmer than Jonas expected, and he sat down on the pebbled river bed, more relaxed than he'd been in months. His mind settled into a calm place, not empty exactly, but peaceful. At rest.
Lorne finished washing his uniform, wringing it out over the rocks. Jonas was distracted from his own task just watching him-- Evan's wrists and powerful arms, the light brown hairs and suntanned skin, the paler skin of his shoulders and torso. Evan spread his uniform out and the rain let up briefly as if cooperating.
"Hey, you missed a spot," Lorne said, and suddenly a wet hand circled around Jonas from behind and tweaked his nipple.
Jonas yelped and grabbed at Evan's legs. Evan fell easily into the water. They kissed slowly, and Jonas felt like he was a teenager again, sneaking away from his school work for swimming and sex. They kissed and touched lazily, time stretching out into a dream of slow touches, until they were both hard again, then pressed up against each other desperately, chest to chest, hips to hips. Jonas felt the pebbles dig into his ass and kind of enjoyed it. Evan's large hand closed around both their cocks and stroked them together, and they came almost simultaneously, one right after the other. His own fingernails dug into Evan's arm muscles, and released.
"Well I don't like to jinx myself," Evan said as they got dressed again. "But so far this is turning out to be one of my better off-world missions."
Jonas laughed into the the rain, and kissed Evan's wet face.
no subject
Date: 2009-10-15 01:01 pm (UTC)one tiny thing - sorry I didn't catch this before. "clicks" should be "klicks" because it's slang for kilometers.
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Date: 2009-10-15 03:39 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2009-10-23 07:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-10-23 08:06 pm (UTC)The Abacus of Rain fb
Date: 2009-12-17 03:37 pm (UTC)Re: The Abacus of Rain fb
Date: 2009-12-17 08:39 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2010-04-04 02:30 pm (UTC)