Fic: The Battle You Never See (Jericho)
Pairing: Jake/Stanley
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: through "Walls of Jericho" (1x04)
Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine.
Notes: Written for
caelent , who asked for Jake/Stanley, and for
vibishan , who asked for Jake/Stanley from early Season 1. Beta'ed by the wonderful
_usakeh_ .
Summary: The missing shower scene, from "Walls of Jericho".
- - -
“Oh my god it’s cold.”
“ ‘Cold’ is a little bit of an understatement, don’t you think?”
“I was being optimistic.” Stanley Richman shivers, convulsively.
Jake slips in past him, in front of the stream of water. “Maybe you should focus that optimism on other things,” he points out, squeezing out some of the antibacterial soap.
“Like us not getting radiation poisoning?”
“For instance.” Jake holds up his soap-covered hands. “I’ll do you if you’ll do me?”
Stanley drops his voice low. “That sounds highly erotic, Jake.”
“Very funny.”
“I wasn’t kidding.”
Jake sighs. “Just - turn around, will you?”
“Ah, I see. It’s reach-around territory now, is it?”
“Stanley.”
“Fine, fine.” Stanley closes his eyes, as Jake’s hands sweep up his back - very thoroughly. But, a little too fast.
“Okay, you’re done,” says Jake.
“And I’m supposed to do the front by myself?” asks Stanley. “C’mon, Jake. You know there are parts on my groin that are very difficult to reach.”
“Shut up, Stanley.”
Stanley gets some of the soap on his hands. Looks at Jake. “Well?”
Jake shoots Stanley an annoyed look, and turns around.
“Hey, you were the one who wanted me to wash your back.”
“I wasn’t the one who wanted you to get sexual about it.”
Stanley pauses, his fingers tracing Jake’s spine. “What, exactly, is your problem, Jake?”
“My problem is there’s a guy with radiation sickness in our clinic,” snaps Jake. “And you’re making light of everything, as usual.”
“Jake, you have to calm down.”
Jake stays tense; ridiculously tense, and Stanley could read it through his fingertips without any practice at telling Jake’s emotions. With practice, it’s almost too easy.
“Not everything that happens in this town is your fault,” as he finishes with Jake’s back, rubbing a little slow, a little seductively -
“Cut it out,” says Jake.
“Can’t blame me for trying,” returns Stanley.
“Yes,” says Jake, soaping up his arms, his chest. “Yes, I can.”
“We were wearing gloves, Jake,” says Stanley. “We hardly even touched him, except to get him to the clinic.”
“Yeah, well,” says Jake, “that could be enough.”
“I was out in the rain for twenty minutes, Jake-”
“I know!”
Even Jake seems a little startled by the violence of the reply; he subsides, a little.
“I’m gonna be fine,” says Stanley. “I’m not the guy in there.”
“No,” says Jake, “the guy in there is going to die. In a matter of days. And there’s nothing we can do about it.”
“How on Earth am I supposed to think about that when I’m here, with you?” asks Stanley, softly.
“Stanley,” starts Jake -
“How about you shut up, hmm?” Stanley reaches out, hands stroking over Jake’s ribs, his waist, his hips, drawing Jake in closer.
“I don’t think-”
“Oh, please,” says Stanley. “You already made the decision to take a shower with me. Haven’t we had enough foreplay?”
Jake laughs, half-shaking his head. “You’re insufferable.” Then, “and why would you even want to stay in this shower longer than necessary? I’m freezing.”
“I’ll warm you up,” murmurs Stanley, suggestively.
Jake rolls his eyes.
“You know,” Stanley tells Jake, “you could seriously hurt a guy’s self-esteem, the way you act.”
“You knew you were going to win before we even got in here,” sighs Jake. “Your self-esteem doesn’t need any work.”
Stanley brushes his nose against Jake’s, bringing them closer to a kiss. “You surrender, then?”
“I wasn’t aware we were having a fight,” and Jake’s voice is softer, a little less focused.
“Now you’re just flirting with me,” says Stanley.
“It’s a change of pace.”
“Are you guys in here?”
Stanley jumps, jerking away from Jake. Was that April? he mouths.
Jake nods. “Yeah, we’re here, April,” he calls, in response.
“Sorry to say it, but you’re going to have to stay under the spray for a few more minutes,” comes her voice. From out of sight, beyond the curve of the wall leading to the showers.
Stanley is very grateful for that. He feels like the erection - the erections - would be a little hard to hide.
“I know it’s cold,” she continues. “They cut power to the water heater, to save gas.”
“Great,” says Stanley, “but when I get hypothermia, you’re treating it.”
“It’s not that cold,” returns April. “Ten more minutes, guys, and you can leave.”
“All right, thanks.”
The door shuts, with a distant thud of wood-on-metal; Stanley looks back to Jake. “Ten minutes. Sounds about right.”
“So, you going to get this started, or what?”
“You just sit back,” says Stanley, “and enjoy the ride.” He kisses Jake’s collarbone, his neck; reaches a hand down and takes Jake’s erection, stroking full and long, slow enough that Jake sways with the motion, a soft moan dragged from his throat.
He pushes Jake back, against the wall, for some extra leverage, and Jake twists away from him. “We’re not under the spray,” he points out.
Stanley reaches up, and re-orients the showerhead. Cuts Jake off in mid-laugh with a kiss, the hottest he can manage, slow drag of tongue and all; Jake is breathing a little harder, when Stanley breaks away.
“What?” asks Stanley.
“I always forget how good you are at this,” replies Jake, his voice rough.
“Maybe you won’t forget this time.”
Stanley feels Jake’s hands start their own exploration - light touches, mapping out the familiarity of skin-on-skin. It’s been a while since they’ve done this, and Jake may think he’s forgotten, but his body remembers.
“You want to go all the way?” asks Stanley, in Jake’s ear.
Jake hisses, softly. “We do have ten minutes.”
“Very true.” Another kiss, then another; Jake’s good at this too, Stanley knows, and he’s suddenly grateful for the brace of the shower wall. He’s so hard it’s ridiculous, hasn’t even touched Jake in years - “Soap good enough?”
Jake nods. “Just don’t go too fast.”
“Not a problem.”
Stanley spreads the soap until it’s slippery, between his fingers - and realizes that Jake is watching him, eyes fixed on Stanley’s hands.
“You like thinking about it, Jake?”
“I like you doing it better,” counters Jake. “Come on.”
Stanley shifts Jake’s legs apart, a little, searching back, and Jake nuzzles Stanley’s neck, fingers closing on Stanley’s arms. And Stanley finds what he’s looking for, sinks a finger inside, and Jake’s body shifts a little, tensing and relaxing at the same time. Stanley claims Jake’s mouth, chaste, this time, until Jake opens up for him.
Then two fingers, sliding the one out and pushing the two back in. Muscle contracts, around him, but it’s already a little looser, and he works the fingers, this time, in and out, until Jake’s grip tightens on his arm.
“I love this part,” murmurs Stanley, and he works the third in.
“You are not alone in that,” says Jake, breathy, and he tilts his head back, against the wall, eyes closing.
Four, then, and he can see how hard Jake is, how he’s scattered, distracted because of it, and wow. Stanley really wants to get inside him.
“You’re gonna have to turn around,” says Stanley, impressed at the levelness of his voice. Gives Jake another kiss, and it lingers, long and full, and how much more can he possibly want this man?
Jake shifts, so that he’s facing the wall, and Stanley guides himself so that he’s pressing where his fingers have worked open, pushing inside, a little bit -
Jake makes a strangled noise, and Stanley sees one of his hands shift into a fist, against the tile.
“Easy,” says Stanley, “just tell me if it’s too much.”
Jake shakes his head, then, “no, I’m fine.”
“Right,” and Stanley slides his hands to Jake’s hips, and sinks inside, all in one stroke.
Jake’s knees buckle, and he takes a moment to recover his balance, gasping an “oh my god,” his spine tensing, relaxing, his body so animated under Stanley’s hands.
Stanley uses slow strokes, long and deep and sure, and he doesn’t keep it steady. Keeps up murmurs in Jake’s ear, of how completely sexy he is, how badly Stanley wants this, how badly Jake looks like he wants it, how he knew he was going to get Jake back - and he doesn’t even know how he can breathe during this, because he’s inside Jake, inside him, deep as he can get.
And Jake doesn’t breathe too well either, hitching with every stroke, every time Stanley hits just the right angle - and when Stanley knows he has the right angle, he stays with it, utterly relentless. Just enough irregularity to keep Jake off-pace, to keep him from being able to just ride the pleasure out.
Jake starts getting quieter, near orgasm; he tenses up, chokes his air off in his throat. Stanley can feel it, can read the signs, and he reaches in front of Jake (Jake’s hands are too busy just keeping him upright), and slides his hand over Jake’s erection.
That’s all it takes, apparently. Jake jerks, full-body, and makes a delicious, ragged noise.
Too much. Way too much.
Stanley lets it overtake him, burning white-hot through his pelvis, hips, even thighs. Intense, and it requires all his concentration to stay upright, to keep steady.
He slips out of Jake, trailing fingers to let the water flow wash out the soap remnants. And Jake turns, sags back against the wall.
Stanley kisses Jake, feeling Jake’s hands move up, one burying itself in his hair, holding him in place. It’s a nice, post-orgasm glow, with Jake more relaxed, more easy than Stanley has seen him since he came to Jericho, before the bombs.
They break away, finally, and Stanley clears his throat. “Think it’s been ten minutes yet? Cause I’m freezing my ass off.”
“Me too,” laughs Jake. “Probably good enough.”
“Right,” says Stanley. He reaches over, and with a twist of his hand, turns the water off.
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: through "Walls of Jericho" (1x04)
Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine.
Notes: Written for
caelent , who asked for Jake/Stanley, and for
vibishan , who asked for Jake/Stanley from early Season 1. Beta'ed by the wonderful
_usakeh_ .
Summary: The missing shower scene, from "Walls of Jericho".
- - -
“Oh my god it’s cold.”
“ ‘Cold’ is a little bit of an understatement, don’t you think?”
“I was being optimistic.” Stanley Richman shivers, convulsively.
Jake slips in past him, in front of the stream of water. “Maybe you should focus that optimism on other things,” he points out, squeezing out some of the antibacterial soap.
“Like us not getting radiation poisoning?”
“For instance.” Jake holds up his soap-covered hands. “I’ll do you if you’ll do me?”
Stanley drops his voice low. “That sounds highly erotic, Jake.”
“Very funny.”
“I wasn’t kidding.”
Jake sighs. “Just - turn around, will you?”
“Ah, I see. It’s reach-around territory now, is it?”
“Stanley.”
“Fine, fine.” Stanley closes his eyes, as Jake’s hands sweep up his back - very thoroughly. But, a little too fast.
“Okay, you’re done,” says Jake.
“And I’m supposed to do the front by myself?” asks Stanley. “C’mon, Jake. You know there are parts on my groin that are very difficult to reach.”
“Shut up, Stanley.”
Stanley gets some of the soap on his hands. Looks at Jake. “Well?”
Jake shoots Stanley an annoyed look, and turns around.
“Hey, you were the one who wanted me to wash your back.”
“I wasn’t the one who wanted you to get sexual about it.”
Stanley pauses, his fingers tracing Jake’s spine. “What, exactly, is your problem, Jake?”
“My problem is there’s a guy with radiation sickness in our clinic,” snaps Jake. “And you’re making light of everything, as usual.”
“Jake, you have to calm down.”
Jake stays tense; ridiculously tense, and Stanley could read it through his fingertips without any practice at telling Jake’s emotions. With practice, it’s almost too easy.
“Not everything that happens in this town is your fault,” as he finishes with Jake’s back, rubbing a little slow, a little seductively -
“Cut it out,” says Jake.
“Can’t blame me for trying,” returns Stanley.
“Yes,” says Jake, soaping up his arms, his chest. “Yes, I can.”
“We were wearing gloves, Jake,” says Stanley. “We hardly even touched him, except to get him to the clinic.”
“Yeah, well,” says Jake, “that could be enough.”
“I was out in the rain for twenty minutes, Jake-”
“I know!”
Even Jake seems a little startled by the violence of the reply; he subsides, a little.
“I’m gonna be fine,” says Stanley. “I’m not the guy in there.”
“No,” says Jake, “the guy in there is going to die. In a matter of days. And there’s nothing we can do about it.”
“How on Earth am I supposed to think about that when I’m here, with you?” asks Stanley, softly.
“Stanley,” starts Jake -
“How about you shut up, hmm?” Stanley reaches out, hands stroking over Jake’s ribs, his waist, his hips, drawing Jake in closer.
“I don’t think-”
“Oh, please,” says Stanley. “You already made the decision to take a shower with me. Haven’t we had enough foreplay?”
Jake laughs, half-shaking his head. “You’re insufferable.” Then, “and why would you even want to stay in this shower longer than necessary? I’m freezing.”
“I’ll warm you up,” murmurs Stanley, suggestively.
Jake rolls his eyes.
“You know,” Stanley tells Jake, “you could seriously hurt a guy’s self-esteem, the way you act.”
“You knew you were going to win before we even got in here,” sighs Jake. “Your self-esteem doesn’t need any work.”
Stanley brushes his nose against Jake’s, bringing them closer to a kiss. “You surrender, then?”
“I wasn’t aware we were having a fight,” and Jake’s voice is softer, a little less focused.
“Now you’re just flirting with me,” says Stanley.
“It’s a change of pace.”
“Are you guys in here?”
Stanley jumps, jerking away from Jake. Was that April? he mouths.
Jake nods. “Yeah, we’re here, April,” he calls, in response.
“Sorry to say it, but you’re going to have to stay under the spray for a few more minutes,” comes her voice. From out of sight, beyond the curve of the wall leading to the showers.
Stanley is very grateful for that. He feels like the erection - the erections - would be a little hard to hide.
“I know it’s cold,” she continues. “They cut power to the water heater, to save gas.”
“Great,” says Stanley, “but when I get hypothermia, you’re treating it.”
“It’s not that cold,” returns April. “Ten more minutes, guys, and you can leave.”
“All right, thanks.”
The door shuts, with a distant thud of wood-on-metal; Stanley looks back to Jake. “Ten minutes. Sounds about right.”
“So, you going to get this started, or what?”
“You just sit back,” says Stanley, “and enjoy the ride.” He kisses Jake’s collarbone, his neck; reaches a hand down and takes Jake’s erection, stroking full and long, slow enough that Jake sways with the motion, a soft moan dragged from his throat.
He pushes Jake back, against the wall, for some extra leverage, and Jake twists away from him. “We’re not under the spray,” he points out.
Stanley reaches up, and re-orients the showerhead. Cuts Jake off in mid-laugh with a kiss, the hottest he can manage, slow drag of tongue and all; Jake is breathing a little harder, when Stanley breaks away.
“What?” asks Stanley.
“I always forget how good you are at this,” replies Jake, his voice rough.
“Maybe you won’t forget this time.”
Stanley feels Jake’s hands start their own exploration - light touches, mapping out the familiarity of skin-on-skin. It’s been a while since they’ve done this, and Jake may think he’s forgotten, but his body remembers.
“You want to go all the way?” asks Stanley, in Jake’s ear.
Jake hisses, softly. “We do have ten minutes.”
“Very true.” Another kiss, then another; Jake’s good at this too, Stanley knows, and he’s suddenly grateful for the brace of the shower wall. He’s so hard it’s ridiculous, hasn’t even touched Jake in years - “Soap good enough?”
Jake nods. “Just don’t go too fast.”
“Not a problem.”
Stanley spreads the soap until it’s slippery, between his fingers - and realizes that Jake is watching him, eyes fixed on Stanley’s hands.
“You like thinking about it, Jake?”
“I like you doing it better,” counters Jake. “Come on.”
Stanley shifts Jake’s legs apart, a little, searching back, and Jake nuzzles Stanley’s neck, fingers closing on Stanley’s arms. And Stanley finds what he’s looking for, sinks a finger inside, and Jake’s body shifts a little, tensing and relaxing at the same time. Stanley claims Jake’s mouth, chaste, this time, until Jake opens up for him.
Then two fingers, sliding the one out and pushing the two back in. Muscle contracts, around him, but it’s already a little looser, and he works the fingers, this time, in and out, until Jake’s grip tightens on his arm.
“I love this part,” murmurs Stanley, and he works the third in.
“You are not alone in that,” says Jake, breathy, and he tilts his head back, against the wall, eyes closing.
Four, then, and he can see how hard Jake is, how he’s scattered, distracted because of it, and wow. Stanley really wants to get inside him.
“You’re gonna have to turn around,” says Stanley, impressed at the levelness of his voice. Gives Jake another kiss, and it lingers, long and full, and how much more can he possibly want this man?
Jake shifts, so that he’s facing the wall, and Stanley guides himself so that he’s pressing where his fingers have worked open, pushing inside, a little bit -
Jake makes a strangled noise, and Stanley sees one of his hands shift into a fist, against the tile.
“Easy,” says Stanley, “just tell me if it’s too much.”
Jake shakes his head, then, “no, I’m fine.”
“Right,” and Stanley slides his hands to Jake’s hips, and sinks inside, all in one stroke.
Jake’s knees buckle, and he takes a moment to recover his balance, gasping an “oh my god,” his spine tensing, relaxing, his body so animated under Stanley’s hands.
Stanley uses slow strokes, long and deep and sure, and he doesn’t keep it steady. Keeps up murmurs in Jake’s ear, of how completely sexy he is, how badly Stanley wants this, how badly Jake looks like he wants it, how he knew he was going to get Jake back - and he doesn’t even know how he can breathe during this, because he’s inside Jake, inside him, deep as he can get.
And Jake doesn’t breathe too well either, hitching with every stroke, every time Stanley hits just the right angle - and when Stanley knows he has the right angle, he stays with it, utterly relentless. Just enough irregularity to keep Jake off-pace, to keep him from being able to just ride the pleasure out.
Jake starts getting quieter, near orgasm; he tenses up, chokes his air off in his throat. Stanley can feel it, can read the signs, and he reaches in front of Jake (Jake’s hands are too busy just keeping him upright), and slides his hand over Jake’s erection.
That’s all it takes, apparently. Jake jerks, full-body, and makes a delicious, ragged noise.
Too much. Way too much.
Stanley lets it overtake him, burning white-hot through his pelvis, hips, even thighs. Intense, and it requires all his concentration to stay upright, to keep steady.
He slips out of Jake, trailing fingers to let the water flow wash out the soap remnants. And Jake turns, sags back against the wall.
Stanley kisses Jake, feeling Jake’s hands move up, one burying itself in his hair, holding him in place. It’s a nice, post-orgasm glow, with Jake more relaxed, more easy than Stanley has seen him since he came to Jericho, before the bombs.
They break away, finally, and Stanley clears his throat. “Think it’s been ten minutes yet? Cause I’m freezing my ass off.”
“Me too,” laughs Jake. “Probably good enough.”
“Right,” says Stanley. He reaches over, and with a twist of his hand, turns the water off.