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out_thereWoohoo! And that, ladies and gentlemen, is Wednesday night finished. (Hmmm... had planned to write about Thursday and Friday night too, but let's not rain on the parade, huh?)
I never realised writing smut was that hard. ("Hard" Heh.) Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
tboy for encouragement and handholding (and if I'm lucky, I may be able to drag her into WW and being a Josh/Sam 'shipper) and thanks to oxoniensis for reassurance, and pointing out my run-away tenses.
Previous part is here.
West Wing: Untitled Sam/Josh fic - Part 4
Opening his apartment door, he was mentally preparing a list of all the reasons why it was unfair for Sam to do this now, why it still wouldn't work, why Sam couldn't just expect him to fix everything. He let them both in, then closed and locked the door, turning to face Sam. He was still concentrating on his inner monologue of objections when he felt his back slammed into the door with Sam's body tight against him.
Sam's lips were warm and wet against his, and he opened his mouth under the assault, feeling a hand clutch the back of his neck as the kiss deepened. He swore it was instinct that made him react; it was just habit to wrap his arms around Sam's shoulders and pull him closer, to part his legs slightly and press against Sam.
It wasn't habit that made him groan when Sam rocked against him, or made him twist his fingers in the soft hair at the nape of Sam's neck, to pull Sam to a better angle for kissing. As he devoured Sam's mouth, Sam's hands were moving, pushing off his jacket and tugging at his shirt buttons. Josh stopped thinking about old habits altogether and just felt the pull of Sam's fingers as Sam undid button after button, pulling the fabric of the shirt apart, as Josh loosened his tie and dropped it on the floor.
There were sucking kisses and gentle bites along his jaw line, then a slow lick across his stubble-covered cheek before Sam was tugging at his earlobe with his teeth. Sam's hands were still chilled from outside, cold fingers running across his chest, outlining his ribs, skating over the pale scar, pausing to twist nipples *just* hard enough to make Josh's moaned "Oh, fuck..." come out far louder than intended. He could feel Sam's low laugh vibrating in his chest, moist air echoing in his ear.
He lost the ability to retaliate when Sam's hands delved under the cotton at his back, raking short nails down his shoulder blades, and Sam bit down on his collarbone, sucking harshly. Fuck, Sam was good at this. He was clinging to Sam's shoulders and groaning, because Sam knew. Knew he loved sex hard and fast, knew where he was sensitive, knew that he still had a fondness for hickeys, as immature and impractical as they were. Sam knew him and Sam was using it drive him crazy.
He was pressing back against Sam, rubbing against him, seeking as much friction as he could, as Sam's hands came forward around his hips, pushing him back. His whined protest was muffled by Sam's tongue invading his mouth, hot and messy. Sam's hands were playing up and down his thighs, running across his stomach, teasing just above his belt. He growled in the back of his throat and Sam took pity on him, pulling off Josh's belt, swiftly undoing his fly. Sam gently squeezed him through his boxers, then pushed the layers of clothing down, and started to slowly jerk him off.
It was too slow, but it was firm and Sam's hands were warm. A vast improvement on not having Sam's hand there, but still not enough. He tried to tell Sam this but all that came out was a litany of curses, mumbled against the salty skin of Sam's neck and the soft wool of his coat. Sam kept up the deliberate pace, even as Josh thrust his hips against him, tried to force him to go quicker, pleading for faster, harder, more, now.
"Sam, please!" Josh hissed through clenched teeth as Sam trailed sharp bites across his chest, detouring to suck at a nipple, running his tongue around it and over it, again and again. When the swift bite came, Josh heard his head hit the door with an audible thud.
His hands flew to Sam's wrist when Sam's hand stilled and pulled away.
"Don't come yet," Sam drawled with obvious promise before he pulled back, peeled off his coat and dropped it in a folded mess at his feet. Then Sam slipped to his knees and Josh saw the reason for the coat. Falling to your knees was ridiculous on a hard surface, and Josh could remember Sam having bruises for a week after one particularly clumsy attempt. Sam balanced one hand against Josh's hip and wrapped the other around his cock, as Sam ran his tongue across the slit, and then took the head into his mouth.
Sam wasn't easy to forget. A sharp mind and sincere ideals, shockingly blue eyes and a blinding smile made him highly memorable. But it was impossible to forget Sam like this. On his knees in front of Josh, eyes hungry with desire, that pretty mouth stretched around his cock. Impossible to forget the serious look through his dark lashes, or the cheekbones standing out above hollowed cheeks. The way Sam's throat moved as he swallowed, the way that Josh's hands carded through Sam's dark hair. Getting a blow job from Sam was almost as much of a visual thrill as a carnal pleasure.
He could feel his pulse pounding in his ears; the harsh sound of his breathing almost drowned out the slightly obscene, wet noises coming from Sam. It was hot, and it was *Sam*, and it was so good. He tried to tell Sam this, but his entire vocabulary seemed to be made up of "God, please, Sam." And when Sam started to hum something low and tuneless under his breath, it was perfect and it was too much. He was helpless to do anything other than grab Sam's shoulders and just give in to it. Bury himself deep in that insistent, talented mouth and let everything go.
His first thought upon coming back to his senses was to hope that he hadn't yelled Sam's name too loudly. It would be... embarrassing, to say the least. Leaning against the door, his legs trembled as he still panted for breath. He realised that it was probably only Sam's hands against his hips that were keeping him standing, and he let himself slide to the floor.
His back against the door and his legs bent to either side of Sam's, he pulled Sam towards him until he was leaning over Josh with one hand braced against the door. It was somewhat awkward, but it did bring Sam's neck close enough to nuzzle. He meant to say that Sam had no idea how good that was, how much he'd missed the sex between them, but all that came out was "...missed you...".
Sam didn't reply, just pulled him into a kiss, slow and smoldering. Josh ran a hand down Sam's now wrinkled shirt and felt Sam shiver against him. He brushed his fingers over the pale material, tracing the seams and toying with the buttons. Swallowing Sam's soft whimper, Josh stopped teasing him and fumbled with Sam's belt. The sound of the zipper rasped loudly between them.
He wrapped his hand around Sam's cock, the smooth, warm weight familiar to his sweaty palm. He tried to ignore the awkward angle and concentrated on keeping a steady rhythm, but from Sam's frustrated groan he realised it wasn't enough. Then Sam moved and raised himself higher on his knees, changing the angle and buried his head in Josh's shoulder. Sam was thrusting in and out of Josh's hand, fucking his fist, one hand against the wooden door, the other clawed into Josh's shoulder. Josh heard the muffled groans grow louder as Sam's movements became more frantic.
Shuddering, Sam bit down hard on his shoulder, and then stilled, collapsing against Josh. Josh wrapped an arm around Sam's back, wiping his other hand on his shirt. "I'm guessing we're both going to the drycleaners tomorrow."
Sam chuckled against his collar and lazily shifted to a more comfortable position. Half sitting and half lying across him, Sam mumbled, "Yeah?"
"Otherwise, that coat of yours will never be the same." Sam just snorted at his comment and pressed a sloppy kiss against his throat. Pushing back strands of damp hair from Sam's forehead, Josh said, "Planning on moving any time soon?"
"Nah..." Sam replied, then lifted his hand to cover Josh's lips. "Shhh..."
"Okay," Josh whispered into Sam's hair and relaxed against the door, slipping into a light doze. He woke up a while later to an aching back and Sam trying to carefully sit up.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."
"I think you did me a favor," Josh said as he stretched his neck from side to side, and realised he had a painful tingling in his left leg. "When did sex on the floor become this painful?"
"I think it had something to do with turning thirty." Sam smiled, and then grimaced as he looked down at himself. "I need a shower." Sam slowly got to his feet, and reached down, offering a hand to Josh.
Josh took the offered assistance, and rose with a groan. "You and me both. You want to go first?"
Sam nodded, and headed into the bathroom, while Josh had a quick look around for his tie. He picked up Sam's coat, and hung it over the back of a chair, limping slightly from the pins and needles in his legs. He picked up his own jacket and took it into the bedroom with him, noting the late hour. They must have slept for longer than he realized, which would explain why his back felt as if he'd never stand up straight again. He peeled out of his rumpled clothes and grabbed a clean towel from the cupboard, heading into the bathroom as he heard the shower stop.
Sam looked up and smiled as Josh handed him a towel. "Thanks," Sam said, as he walked out of the room with his clothing bundled in his arms.
Josh stepped into the shower, fumbling with the taps to get the water right (somewhere between freezing and burning) and then ran his fingers through his hair, enjoying the water pressure against his scalp. He stretched under the warm water, willing his aching muscles to relax. Reaching over for the soap, he started to wash half-heartedly, his movements slow and sleepy.
It was the quiet sound of his front door closing that made him finally get out, seizing a towel as he passed. Looking around the room, there was no coat and no Sam, but there was a note sitting on the kitchen bench.
"Thought it was best if I didn't stay the night. Sam"
He scrunched the note into a ball, and threw it into the bin. Sam was right. It would just be foolish for him to stay. Still, it grated that Sam hadn't said goodbye, it wouldn't have killed the man to stay for another few minutes...
***
Ta da! The end of Wednesday night!
I never realised writing smut was that hard. ("Hard" Heh.) Thanks to
tboy for encouragement and handholding (and if I'm lucky, I may be able to drag her into WW and being a Josh/Sam 'shipper) and thanks to oxoniensis for reassurance, and pointing out my run-away tenses.Previous part is here.
West Wing: Untitled Sam/Josh fic - Part 4
Opening his apartment door, he was mentally preparing a list of all the reasons why it was unfair for Sam to do this now, why it still wouldn't work, why Sam couldn't just expect him to fix everything. He let them both in, then closed and locked the door, turning to face Sam. He was still concentrating on his inner monologue of objections when he felt his back slammed into the door with Sam's body tight against him.
Sam's lips were warm and wet against his, and he opened his mouth under the assault, feeling a hand clutch the back of his neck as the kiss deepened. He swore it was instinct that made him react; it was just habit to wrap his arms around Sam's shoulders and pull him closer, to part his legs slightly and press against Sam.
It wasn't habit that made him groan when Sam rocked against him, or made him twist his fingers in the soft hair at the nape of Sam's neck, to pull Sam to a better angle for kissing. As he devoured Sam's mouth, Sam's hands were moving, pushing off his jacket and tugging at his shirt buttons. Josh stopped thinking about old habits altogether and just felt the pull of Sam's fingers as Sam undid button after button, pulling the fabric of the shirt apart, as Josh loosened his tie and dropped it on the floor.
There were sucking kisses and gentle bites along his jaw line, then a slow lick across his stubble-covered cheek before Sam was tugging at his earlobe with his teeth. Sam's hands were still chilled from outside, cold fingers running across his chest, outlining his ribs, skating over the pale scar, pausing to twist nipples *just* hard enough to make Josh's moaned "Oh, fuck..." come out far louder than intended. He could feel Sam's low laugh vibrating in his chest, moist air echoing in his ear.
He lost the ability to retaliate when Sam's hands delved under the cotton at his back, raking short nails down his shoulder blades, and Sam bit down on his collarbone, sucking harshly. Fuck, Sam was good at this. He was clinging to Sam's shoulders and groaning, because Sam knew. Knew he loved sex hard and fast, knew where he was sensitive, knew that he still had a fondness for hickeys, as immature and impractical as they were. Sam knew him and Sam was using it drive him crazy.
He was pressing back against Sam, rubbing against him, seeking as much friction as he could, as Sam's hands came forward around his hips, pushing him back. His whined protest was muffled by Sam's tongue invading his mouth, hot and messy. Sam's hands were playing up and down his thighs, running across his stomach, teasing just above his belt. He growled in the back of his throat and Sam took pity on him, pulling off Josh's belt, swiftly undoing his fly. Sam gently squeezed him through his boxers, then pushed the layers of clothing down, and started to slowly jerk him off.
It was too slow, but it was firm and Sam's hands were warm. A vast improvement on not having Sam's hand there, but still not enough. He tried to tell Sam this but all that came out was a litany of curses, mumbled against the salty skin of Sam's neck and the soft wool of his coat. Sam kept up the deliberate pace, even as Josh thrust his hips against him, tried to force him to go quicker, pleading for faster, harder, more, now.
"Sam, please!" Josh hissed through clenched teeth as Sam trailed sharp bites across his chest, detouring to suck at a nipple, running his tongue around it and over it, again and again. When the swift bite came, Josh heard his head hit the door with an audible thud.
His hands flew to Sam's wrist when Sam's hand stilled and pulled away.
"Don't come yet," Sam drawled with obvious promise before he pulled back, peeled off his coat and dropped it in a folded mess at his feet. Then Sam slipped to his knees and Josh saw the reason for the coat. Falling to your knees was ridiculous on a hard surface, and Josh could remember Sam having bruises for a week after one particularly clumsy attempt. Sam balanced one hand against Josh's hip and wrapped the other around his cock, as Sam ran his tongue across the slit, and then took the head into his mouth.
Sam wasn't easy to forget. A sharp mind and sincere ideals, shockingly blue eyes and a blinding smile made him highly memorable. But it was impossible to forget Sam like this. On his knees in front of Josh, eyes hungry with desire, that pretty mouth stretched around his cock. Impossible to forget the serious look through his dark lashes, or the cheekbones standing out above hollowed cheeks. The way Sam's throat moved as he swallowed, the way that Josh's hands carded through Sam's dark hair. Getting a blow job from Sam was almost as much of a visual thrill as a carnal pleasure.
He could feel his pulse pounding in his ears; the harsh sound of his breathing almost drowned out the slightly obscene, wet noises coming from Sam. It was hot, and it was *Sam*, and it was so good. He tried to tell Sam this, but his entire vocabulary seemed to be made up of "God, please, Sam." And when Sam started to hum something low and tuneless under his breath, it was perfect and it was too much. He was helpless to do anything other than grab Sam's shoulders and just give in to it. Bury himself deep in that insistent, talented mouth and let everything go.
His first thought upon coming back to his senses was to hope that he hadn't yelled Sam's name too loudly. It would be... embarrassing, to say the least. Leaning against the door, his legs trembled as he still panted for breath. He realised that it was probably only Sam's hands against his hips that were keeping him standing, and he let himself slide to the floor.
His back against the door and his legs bent to either side of Sam's, he pulled Sam towards him until he was leaning over Josh with one hand braced against the door. It was somewhat awkward, but it did bring Sam's neck close enough to nuzzle. He meant to say that Sam had no idea how good that was, how much he'd missed the sex between them, but all that came out was "...missed you...".
Sam didn't reply, just pulled him into a kiss, slow and smoldering. Josh ran a hand down Sam's now wrinkled shirt and felt Sam shiver against him. He brushed his fingers over the pale material, tracing the seams and toying with the buttons. Swallowing Sam's soft whimper, Josh stopped teasing him and fumbled with Sam's belt. The sound of the zipper rasped loudly between them.
He wrapped his hand around Sam's cock, the smooth, warm weight familiar to his sweaty palm. He tried to ignore the awkward angle and concentrated on keeping a steady rhythm, but from Sam's frustrated groan he realised it wasn't enough. Then Sam moved and raised himself higher on his knees, changing the angle and buried his head in Josh's shoulder. Sam was thrusting in and out of Josh's hand, fucking his fist, one hand against the wooden door, the other clawed into Josh's shoulder. Josh heard the muffled groans grow louder as Sam's movements became more frantic.
Shuddering, Sam bit down hard on his shoulder, and then stilled, collapsing against Josh. Josh wrapped an arm around Sam's back, wiping his other hand on his shirt. "I'm guessing we're both going to the drycleaners tomorrow."
Sam chuckled against his collar and lazily shifted to a more comfortable position. Half sitting and half lying across him, Sam mumbled, "Yeah?"
"Otherwise, that coat of yours will never be the same." Sam just snorted at his comment and pressed a sloppy kiss against his throat. Pushing back strands of damp hair from Sam's forehead, Josh said, "Planning on moving any time soon?"
"Nah..." Sam replied, then lifted his hand to cover Josh's lips. "Shhh..."
"Okay," Josh whispered into Sam's hair and relaxed against the door, slipping into a light doze. He woke up a while later to an aching back and Sam trying to carefully sit up.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."
"I think you did me a favor," Josh said as he stretched his neck from side to side, and realised he had a painful tingling in his left leg. "When did sex on the floor become this painful?"
"I think it had something to do with turning thirty." Sam smiled, and then grimaced as he looked down at himself. "I need a shower." Sam slowly got to his feet, and reached down, offering a hand to Josh.
Josh took the offered assistance, and rose with a groan. "You and me both. You want to go first?"
Sam nodded, and headed into the bathroom, while Josh had a quick look around for his tie. He picked up Sam's coat, and hung it over the back of a chair, limping slightly from the pins and needles in his legs. He picked up his own jacket and took it into the bedroom with him, noting the late hour. They must have slept for longer than he realized, which would explain why his back felt as if he'd never stand up straight again. He peeled out of his rumpled clothes and grabbed a clean towel from the cupboard, heading into the bathroom as he heard the shower stop.
Sam looked up and smiled as Josh handed him a towel. "Thanks," Sam said, as he walked out of the room with his clothing bundled in his arms.
Josh stepped into the shower, fumbling with the taps to get the water right (somewhere between freezing and burning) and then ran his fingers through his hair, enjoying the water pressure against his scalp. He stretched under the warm water, willing his aching muscles to relax. Reaching over for the soap, he started to wash half-heartedly, his movements slow and sleepy.
It was the quiet sound of his front door closing that made him finally get out, seizing a towel as he passed. Looking around the room, there was no coat and no Sam, but there was a note sitting on the kitchen bench.
"Thought it was best if I didn't stay the night. Sam"
He scrunched the note into a ball, and threw it into the bin. Sam was right. It would just be foolish for him to stay. Still, it grated that Sam hadn't said goodbye, it wouldn't have killed the man to stay for another few minutes...
***
Ta da! The end of Wednesday night!
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no subject
Date: 2003-07-13 07:34 am (UTC)Forgot to answer your query though: yes I think it follows along extremely well from the rest of the story. You have the same characterisation, and the same clear Josh POV.
no subject
Date: 2003-07-13 08:01 am (UTC)Good. I've just been staring at that section for too long, and had the concern that just because I know what's going on in Josh's head, doesn't mean I've actually written it in an understandable manner.
And now, bed. Because it's 1am, and I have to *duhduhDUH* work tomorrow.
But, man, holidays rocked! *g*