Character Flaw: It's Not a Bug, It's a Feature! (pt 1 of 3)
anonymous
February 9 2009, 06:51:22 UTC
If Stephen had any major flaws that Jon could find, it was that sometimes, Stephen would fall into character and have trouble getting back out. It wasn't a problem while he was a correspondent, so far as Jon knew, but once Stephen started the Report, he admitted that sometimes it was difficult to shake it off.
This wasn't really Jon's problem at first. He had Tracey, Stephen had Evie, and Jon could laugh at Stephen when he said, "She made me sleep on the couch again."
Months later, when Stephen no longer had Evie and Jon most definitely no longer had Tracey, they had each other, and it didn't quite sink in what that meant until one night when Jon dropped by the Report's studio so he and Stephen could head to their shared apartment together. Stephen was still in his suit, a dark charcoal with a rich green tie, and he wouldn't quite meet Jon's eyes. "It, uh, it might be best for me to sleep on the couch tonight."
"What are you talking about?" Jon asked.
"In fact, go ahead home without me," Stephen said rather desperately, and he looked like he did when he was doing his best to hold to character and about to fail, except instead of humor tightening his eyes, there was a kind of desperation there, and Stephen wasn't in front of camera. They were entirely alone in Stephen's office, so Jon wasn't sure how to parse this.
"Are you okay?" Jon asked, stepping forward, and Stephen took several steps back, right into his desk.
His eyes were wide and his breathing was coming heavy. He looked down at the carpet as he said, "Fine! I'm fine! Why wouldn't I be?"
"I don't know," Jon said carefully, taking another step forward slowly, like he was approaching a skittish stray. "What's wrong?"
Stephen lifted his chin, and now his expression was haughty with an undercurrent of-was that fear? No, more like insecurity. "I said I was perfectly fine," Stephen said, "and I wasn't lying. Stephen Colbert is not a liar. There's no need for you to keep pushing, always pushing with your flirty eyes and sultry voice and-" Stephen cut off, actually clapping his right hand over his mouth.
"Oh my God," Jon said, his own eyes wide, torn between humor and a mild horror, "you really weren't kidding."
"Shut up, Stewart," Stephen said testily from behind his hand.
Jon crossed the remaining space between them and gently pulled Stephen's hand down, held it between his own and rubbed tiny calming circles in Stephen's palm. "If you'd like," Jon said mildly.
"I would," Stephen said. "Every time you talk, it makes my head buzz like it's going to explode, makes me want to-"
"Want to what?" Jon asked, continuing to massage Stephen's hand.
"Shut you up," Stephen said, soft and a little broken.
"Go ahead," Jon said, and Stephen pulled his hand from Jon's and put it on Jon's shoulder, leaned in slowly.
He stopped a half inch away, warm breath puffing out against Jon's lips, and asked, "Is this really okay?"
Jon knew that Stephen wasn't entirely in character in that instant, had struggled back out enough to be absolutely sure, and Jon's voice was firm as he said, "Absolutely."
The kiss started soft, Stephen's lips parting under his own, but the instant Jon touched his tongue to Stephen's lower lip, Stephen froze. Jon pulled back and asked, "Okay?"
Stephen opened his eyes, and Jon could tell that he'd slipped back into character. Voice hoarse, Stephen said, "The things I want to do to you, Jon Stewart."
"So do them," Jon said challengingly, and that was enough to finally push Stephen forward, past the point of careful control and gentle touches. He pulled Jon forcefully around so their positions were reversed, the hard edge of the desk digging into Jon from behind even as Stephen's tongue slid into Jon's mouth and his hands pulled at Jon's jacket. Jon let Stephen manhandle him a moment, jacket discarded to the side and Stephen's hands already at his belt, still kissing fervently.
Character Flaw: It's Not a Bug, It's a Feature! (pt 2 of 3)
anonymous
February 9 2009, 06:52:36 UTC
When the belt was placed carefully to the side on the desk, though, even as Stephen pulled down Jon's jeans and underwear to catch on his shoes, Jon had to pull back a moment, push Stephen away with one firm hand so he could ask, "Are we going to need a safe word?"
"Are we?" Stephen asked, voice low as he leaned past Jon to pick up the belt again.
"Shit," Jon said weakly, and Stephen said, "Hands behind your back."
Jon shuffled awkwardly around, and if he hadn't already been hard, Stephen pulling his wrists together and binding them with the leather of his own belt would have pushed him there.
"Red," Jon managed to get out. "Our safe word can be red."
Stephen pushed Jon's front down into the desk, and the only acknowledgment that he'd even heard Jon was a light kiss that brushed the nape of his neck. Then Stephen drew away, said, "Stay there."
Jon did, listening to the sounds of rustling clothing and Stephen moving around, presumably collecting condoms and lube. Jon's erection pressed painfully into the wood of the desk, and he was all too aware of his vulnerable position, pants caught around his ankles and shirt still on, arms tied awkwardly behind him. Jon was intensely, intensely glad they'd decided against having security cameras inside any of the actual offices, because this was not a moment he wanted to share with anyone but Stephen, the sort of thing doomed to end up on the internet if caught on film.
"Any time now," Jon said after a minute, though he was careful not to move.
"You liberals are so impatient," Stephen said. "'Let's get on fixing global warming now instead of once the Midwest becomes beachfront property.' 'Eight years is too long for having the greatest president.' 'Come fuck me now before I lose my erection.'"
"I hadn't said anything about the last," Jon said, "but now that you mention it-"
A hand at his hips quieted him, and Stephen bent over next to Jon, whispered in something approaching his usual voice, but not quite making it there, "Last chance, Jon."
"Do you really want to wait until New York is submerged under all the water from melted glaciers?" Jon asked. "Because I think we might have a problem actually-"
This time, Jon was interrupted by a slick finger slipping in his ass, stealing away his words as it brushed his prostate, and though he'd had faith, it was still a little surprising to be proven right about Stephen keeping lube in his office. A second finger slipped in, and Jon groaned, closed his eyes and tried to cant his hips for Stephen to have easier access.
"Are all liberals this slutty?" Stephen asked, ruthlessly pressing against Jon's prostate again, and Jon was finding it increasingly hard to breathe, wanting to spread his legs and impeded by the denim wrapped around his ankles. "Or is it just you?"
"Just for you." Jon swallowed thickly, breath stuttering as Stephen added a third finger.
Voice softer suddenly, Stephen said, "I know."
Then his fingers were sliding out, and Jon had a brief, achingly empty moment as he heard the rustling sounds and the tearing open of a condom wrapper. "Stephen-" Jon said-and was that wrecked, horrible sound really Jon's voice?-when there was a brief silence. A hand settled at Jon's side, rubbed gently in a comforting almost petting motion, and then there was the slow pressing burn of Stephen's dick sliding in.
Jon almost expected Stephen to say something, something sly or exasperating or unexpectedly sweet, still in character, but the only thing that came out of Stephen's mouth was Jon's name, whispered desperately against the skin of his neck and shoulders as Stephen littered kisses there in between each thrust. Usually, it was easy to tell them apart, the actual Stephen and the character he portrayed, but Stephen's voice was rough and he seemed to go back and forth, the litany of "Jon"s blending into one another so Jon couldn't actually tell, could barely concentrate on more than the desk he was pressed into, on the pressure unerringly angled to hit Jon's prostate again and again. Jon's breath was coming fast and rasping unsteadily through his throat.
Character Flaw: It's Not a Bug, It's a Feature! (pt 3 of 3)
anonymous
February 9 2009, 06:54:32 UTC
Stephen wrapped his other hand around Jon's dick, firm and still slick from the lube, and Jon said helplessly, "Oh, God," and pressed his face further against the desk, unable to get any leverage and wishing his hands were free, arms straining and leather cutting deep into his wrists.
"Just Stephen," Stephen said, voice light, and Jon couldn't bring himself to ask which one.
It didn't really matter, because either way, Jon was coming apart under the concerted assault of Stephen's actions, finally sent over the edge when Stephen traced his tongue lightly along the edge of Jon's ear. Stephen didn't follow far behind.
"Your desk, you're cleaning it," Jon mumbled once he was coherent enough for his brain to start working again. Stephen had undone the belt and was massaging Jon's wrists, encouraging blood flow.
"Thanks," Stephen said, and Jon felt him press a kiss to one wrist, then the other.
Jon would have made a quip brushing it off, asked something like, "For making you clean up my mess?" But when he turned, careful not to trip over his jeans, he caught Stephen's eyes.
They were soft at the corners, half-lidded, but open in a way they hadn't been when Jon first walked in. Stephen wasn't hiding anything, wasn't pretending at anything, and was fully, one-hundred percent present. He trailed his fingers along Jon's jaw, repeated, "Thanks."
Jon smiled despite himself and said, "My pleasure."
And it was.
(But in the future, Jon made Stephen wait until they got home to their comfortable king-size bed and toys actually made for tying to ground himself and work his way back out of character.)
Re: Character Flaw: It's Not a Bug, It's a Feature! (pt 3 of 3)
anonymous
February 9 2009, 08:53:55 UTC
OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
::picks up pieces of brain:: Working my way backwards...
FIRST: LOL at parenthetical epilogue ^_^
SECOND: I love that real!Stephen's love for Jon and character!Stephen's perverse guilty obsession with Jon merge, and that Jon is awesome enough to embrace both.
THIRD: My absolute favorite thing about this fic is the use of Stephen's voice... the mixture of Jon's name as he fucks him, but most of all the part where he whispers "Last chance Jon"....I think I came right there o.O
Re: Character Flaw: It's Not a Bug, It's a Feature! (pt 3 of 3)
anonymous
February 9 2009, 10:49:46 UTC
THIS. OMG a thousand times this.
I love Jon's disbelief then encouragement and oh oh oh "Stephen"'s dialogue.
Jon said helplessly, "Oh, God," and pressed his face further against the desk, unable to get any leverage and wishing his hands were free, arms straining and leather cutting deep into his wrists.
"Just Stephen," Stephen said, voice light, and Jon couldn't bring himself to ask which one.
Re: Character Flaw: It's Not a Bug, It's a Feature! (pt 3 of 3)
anonymous
February 9 2009, 12:38:27 UTC
"Are all liberals this slutty?" Stephen asked, ruthlessly pressing against Jon's prostate again, and Jon was finding it increasingly hard to breathe, wanting to spread his legs and impeded by the denim wrapped around his ankles. "Or is it just you?"
"Just for you." Jon swallowed thickly, breath stuttering as Stephen added a third finger.
Um. HOTHOTHOT. Also I second the love for the idea of Stephen using his character in this way. AMAZING!
Re: Character Flaw: It's Not a Bug, It's a Feature! (pt 3 of 3)
anonymous
February 9 2009, 18:35:45 UTC
//"I don't know," Jon said carefully, taking another step forward slowly, like he was approaching a skittish stray. "What's wrong?"
Stephen lifted his chin, and now his expression was haughty with an undercurrent of-was that fear? No, more like insecurity. "I said I was perfectly fine," Stephen said, "and I wasn't lying. Stephen Colbert is not a liar. There's no need for you to keep pushing, always pushing with your flirty eyes and sultry voice and-" Stephen cut off, actually clapping his right hand over his mouth.
"Oh my God," Jon said, his own eyes wide, torn between humor and a mild horror, "you really weren't kidding."//
This wasn't really Jon's problem at first. He had Tracey, Stephen had Evie, and Jon could laugh at Stephen when he said, "She made me sleep on the couch again."
Months later, when Stephen no longer had Evie and Jon most definitely no longer had Tracey, they had each other, and it didn't quite sink in what that meant until one night when Jon dropped by the Report's studio so he and Stephen could head to their shared apartment together. Stephen was still in his suit, a dark charcoal with a rich green tie, and he wouldn't quite meet Jon's eyes. "It, uh, it might be best for me to sleep on the couch tonight."
"What are you talking about?" Jon asked.
"In fact, go ahead home without me," Stephen said rather desperately, and he looked like he did when he was doing his best to hold to character and about to fail, except instead of humor tightening his eyes, there was a kind of desperation there, and Stephen wasn't in front of camera. They were entirely alone in Stephen's office, so Jon wasn't sure how to parse this.
"Are you okay?" Jon asked, stepping forward, and Stephen took several steps back, right into his desk.
His eyes were wide and his breathing was coming heavy. He looked down at the carpet as he said, "Fine! I'm fine! Why wouldn't I be?"
"I don't know," Jon said carefully, taking another step forward slowly, like he was approaching a skittish stray. "What's wrong?"
Stephen lifted his chin, and now his expression was haughty with an undercurrent of-was that fear? No, more like insecurity. "I said I was perfectly fine," Stephen said, "and I wasn't lying. Stephen Colbert is not a liar. There's no need for you to keep pushing, always pushing with your flirty eyes and sultry voice and-" Stephen cut off, actually clapping his right hand over his mouth.
"Oh my God," Jon said, his own eyes wide, torn between humor and a mild horror, "you really weren't kidding."
"Shut up, Stewart," Stephen said testily from behind his hand.
Jon crossed the remaining space between them and gently pulled Stephen's hand down, held it between his own and rubbed tiny calming circles in Stephen's palm. "If you'd like," Jon said mildly.
"I would," Stephen said. "Every time you talk, it makes my head buzz like it's going to explode, makes me want to-"
"Want to what?" Jon asked, continuing to massage Stephen's hand.
"Shut you up," Stephen said, soft and a little broken.
"Go ahead," Jon said, and Stephen pulled his hand from Jon's and put it on Jon's shoulder, leaned in slowly.
He stopped a half inch away, warm breath puffing out against Jon's lips, and asked, "Is this really okay?"
Jon knew that Stephen wasn't entirely in character in that instant, had struggled back out enough to be absolutely sure, and Jon's voice was firm as he said, "Absolutely."
The kiss started soft, Stephen's lips parting under his own, but the instant Jon touched his tongue to Stephen's lower lip, Stephen froze. Jon pulled back and asked, "Okay?"
Stephen opened his eyes, and Jon could tell that he'd slipped back into character. Voice hoarse, Stephen said, "The things I want to do to you, Jon Stewart."
"So do them," Jon said challengingly, and that was enough to finally push Stephen forward, past the point of careful control and gentle touches. He pulled Jon forcefully around so their positions were reversed, the hard edge of the desk digging into Jon from behind even as Stephen's tongue slid into Jon's mouth and his hands pulled at Jon's jacket. Jon let Stephen manhandle him a moment, jacket discarded to the side and Stephen's hands already at his belt, still kissing fervently.
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"Are we?" Stephen asked, voice low as he leaned past Jon to pick up the belt again.
"Shit," Jon said weakly, and Stephen said, "Hands behind your back."
Jon shuffled awkwardly around, and if he hadn't already been hard, Stephen pulling his wrists together and binding them with the leather of his own belt would have pushed him there.
"Red," Jon managed to get out. "Our safe word can be red."
Stephen pushed Jon's front down into the desk, and the only acknowledgment that he'd even heard Jon was a light kiss that brushed the nape of his neck. Then Stephen drew away, said, "Stay there."
Jon did, listening to the sounds of rustling clothing and Stephen moving around, presumably collecting condoms and lube. Jon's erection pressed painfully into the wood of the desk, and he was all too aware of his vulnerable position, pants caught around his ankles and shirt still on, arms tied awkwardly behind him. Jon was intensely, intensely glad they'd decided against having security cameras inside any of the actual offices, because this was not a moment he wanted to share with anyone but Stephen, the sort of thing doomed to end up on the internet if caught on film.
"Any time now," Jon said after a minute, though he was careful not to move.
"You liberals are so impatient," Stephen said. "'Let's get on fixing global warming now instead of once the Midwest becomes beachfront property.' 'Eight years is too long for having the greatest president.' 'Come fuck me now before I lose my erection.'"
"I hadn't said anything about the last," Jon said, "but now that you mention it-"
A hand at his hips quieted him, and Stephen bent over next to Jon, whispered in something approaching his usual voice, but not quite making it there, "Last chance, Jon."
"Do you really want to wait until New York is submerged under all the water from melted glaciers?" Jon asked. "Because I think we might have a problem actually-"
This time, Jon was interrupted by a slick finger slipping in his ass, stealing away his words as it brushed his prostate, and though he'd had faith, it was still a little surprising to be proven right about Stephen keeping lube in his office. A second finger slipped in, and Jon groaned, closed his eyes and tried to cant his hips for Stephen to have easier access.
"Are all liberals this slutty?" Stephen asked, ruthlessly pressing against Jon's prostate again, and Jon was finding it increasingly hard to breathe, wanting to spread his legs and impeded by the denim wrapped around his ankles. "Or is it just you?"
"Just for you." Jon swallowed thickly, breath stuttering as Stephen added a third finger.
Voice softer suddenly, Stephen said, "I know."
Then his fingers were sliding out, and Jon had a brief, achingly empty moment as he heard the rustling sounds and the tearing open of a condom wrapper. "Stephen-" Jon said-and was that wrecked, horrible sound really Jon's voice?-when there was a brief silence. A hand settled at Jon's side, rubbed gently in a comforting almost petting motion, and then there was the slow pressing burn of Stephen's dick sliding in.
Jon almost expected Stephen to say something, something sly or exasperating or unexpectedly sweet, still in character, but the only thing that came out of Stephen's mouth was Jon's name, whispered desperately against the skin of his neck and shoulders as Stephen littered kisses there in between each thrust. Usually, it was easy to tell them apart, the actual Stephen and the character he portrayed, but Stephen's voice was rough and he seemed to go back and forth, the litany of "Jon"s blending into one another so Jon couldn't actually tell, could barely concentrate on more than the desk he was pressed into, on the pressure unerringly angled to hit Jon's prostate again and again. Jon's breath was coming fast and rasping unsteadily through his throat.
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"Just Stephen," Stephen said, voice light, and Jon couldn't bring himself to ask which one.
It didn't really matter, because either way, Jon was coming apart under the concerted assault of Stephen's actions, finally sent over the edge when Stephen traced his tongue lightly along the edge of Jon's ear. Stephen didn't follow far behind.
"Your desk, you're cleaning it," Jon mumbled once he was coherent enough for his brain to start working again. Stephen had undone the belt and was massaging Jon's wrists, encouraging blood flow.
"Thanks," Stephen said, and Jon felt him press a kiss to one wrist, then the other.
Jon would have made a quip brushing it off, asked something like, "For making you clean up my mess?" But when he turned, careful not to trip over his jeans, he caught Stephen's eyes.
They were soft at the corners, half-lidded, but open in a way they hadn't been when Jon first walked in. Stephen wasn't hiding anything, wasn't pretending at anything, and was fully, one-hundred percent present. He trailed his fingers along Jon's jaw, repeated, "Thanks."
Jon smiled despite himself and said, "My pleasure."
And it was.
(But in the future, Jon made Stephen wait until they got home to their comfortable king-size bed and toys actually made for tying to ground himself and work his way back out of character.)
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\o/
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::picks up pieces of brain:: Working my way backwards...
FIRST: LOL at parenthetical epilogue ^_^
SECOND: I love that real!Stephen's love for Jon and character!Stephen's perverse guilty obsession with Jon merge, and that Jon is awesome enough to embrace both.
THIRD: My absolute favorite thing about this fic is the use of Stephen's voice... the mixture of Jon's name as he fucks him, but most of all the part where he whispers "Last chance Jon"....I think I came right there o.O
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Glad you enjoyed it!
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I love Jon's disbelief then encouragement and oh oh oh "Stephen"'s dialogue.
Jon said helplessly, "Oh, God," and pressed his face further against the desk, unable to get any leverage and wishing his hands were free, arms straining and leather cutting deep into his wrists.
"Just Stephen," Stephen said, voice light, and Jon couldn't bring himself to ask which one.
Perfection *squeezes*
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Glad you enjoyed it!
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And the last sentence was golden.
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"Just for you." Jon swallowed thickly, breath stuttering as Stephen added a third finger.
Um. HOTHOTHOT. Also I second the love for the idea of Stephen using his character in this way. AMAZING!
Reply
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Stephen lifted his chin, and now his expression was haughty with an undercurrent of-was that fear? No, more like insecurity. "I said I was perfectly fine," Stephen said, "and I wasn't lying. Stephen Colbert is not a liar. There's no need for you to keep pushing, always pushing with your flirty eyes and sultry voice and-" Stephen cut off, actually clapping his right hand over his mouth.
"Oh my God," Jon said, his own eyes wide, torn between humor and a mild horror, "you really weren't kidding."//
This is so fucking them, thank you!!!
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