24 Jack Bauer/Tony Almeida: Blanks on My Mind (#10 Inside)
Fandom: 24
Pairing: Jack/ Tony
Words: 500
Rating: NC-17
Prompt: #10 Inside
Disclaimer: I don't own them, I'm only taking them out for a spin.
They had both tried their respective best at writing it off as a drunken escapade.
One weak moment.
One time they had let their guard slip.
One time, after weeks and weeks of abstinence, the loneliness a dull ache in their chests.
The alcohol clouding their minds, tearing down carefully established lines of defence in one, two shots.
The temptation of body contact.
The temptation of feeling something, of feeling anything, really.
The temptation of half a heart beat of oblivion.
A couple of minutes of clumsy ecstasy on a deserted parking lot, a drunken excursion onto unfamiliar territory, with hands unpractised and coordination impaired.
Followed by a throbbing headache the next morning, pangs of remorse in tow; the insecurity that briefly rippled the surface of their seemingly unperturbed expressions when their eyes stumbled upon each other during the next briefing. Then a few days with communication limited to the minimum before they both managed to bury that evening’s events under the cloak of professionalism.
Nothing to talk about.
Nothing to think about.
But then there was another night. A deserted street behind a dingy random bar, small hours of the morning, whiskey flavoured kisses, trousers to tight to think straight, stars dancing in front of their eyes when they almost simultaneously erupted, caught in the unfamiliar embrace.
The following morning the mask was already harder to slip into place. Eyes avoiding each other, cheeks colouring in the other one’s presence for days, thoughts striking at the most inconvenient moments.
Yet, they managed to adjust.
Managed to push away the images.
Managed to feel safe again.
Until they found themselves in a heap of tangled limbs in the backseat of a SUV, tearing at each other's clothes with a mutual ferocity that startled them, caused their breaths to hitch in their throats and their minds to reel with thoughts about consequences and propriety and imprudence while their hands moved frantically towards release.
Their movements became bolder, more demanding. Though they never spoke about it, never made appointments, they started to anticipate their encounters. Soon their mouths joined their hands, becoming more skilful with the minute and with every inch of flesh tasted.
One night a bottle of lube was brought forth and intruding fingers wordlessly stretched entrances previously unexplored before one of them pulled the other one onto his lap.
It became impossible to look each other into the eyes in the broad neon light of CTU during the day, each movement still gloriously painful, moans still echoing in their heads.
They wordlessly established rules, both struggling to stay in control. No coffee breaks together. No consultations. Chase or Chloe or Michelle in the room with them at all times. Until after a couple of days their cheeks wouldn’t burn under the other’s gaze, their skin wouldn’t tingle when they passed each other and their cocks would stop twitching as soon as they heard the other’s voice.
Every time they told themselves it would be the last time. Only to discover that it never was.
Comments very much appreciated!
Pairing: Jack/ Tony
Words: 500
Rating: NC-17
Prompt: #10 Inside
Disclaimer: I don't own them, I'm only taking them out for a spin.
They had both tried their respective best at writing it off as a drunken escapade.
One weak moment.
One time they had let their guard slip.
One time, after weeks and weeks of abstinence, the loneliness a dull ache in their chests.
The alcohol clouding their minds, tearing down carefully established lines of defence in one, two shots.
The temptation of body contact.
The temptation of feeling something, of feeling anything, really.
The temptation of half a heart beat of oblivion.
A couple of minutes of clumsy ecstasy on a deserted parking lot, a drunken excursion onto unfamiliar territory, with hands unpractised and coordination impaired.
Followed by a throbbing headache the next morning, pangs of remorse in tow; the insecurity that briefly rippled the surface of their seemingly unperturbed expressions when their eyes stumbled upon each other during the next briefing. Then a few days with communication limited to the minimum before they both managed to bury that evening’s events under the cloak of professionalism.
Nothing to talk about.
Nothing to think about.
But then there was another night. A deserted street behind a dingy random bar, small hours of the morning, whiskey flavoured kisses, trousers to tight to think straight, stars dancing in front of their eyes when they almost simultaneously erupted, caught in the unfamiliar embrace.
The following morning the mask was already harder to slip into place. Eyes avoiding each other, cheeks colouring in the other one’s presence for days, thoughts striking at the most inconvenient moments.
Yet, they managed to adjust.
Managed to push away the images.
Managed to feel safe again.
Until they found themselves in a heap of tangled limbs in the backseat of a SUV, tearing at each other's clothes with a mutual ferocity that startled them, caused their breaths to hitch in their throats and their minds to reel with thoughts about consequences and propriety and imprudence while their hands moved frantically towards release.
Their movements became bolder, more demanding. Though they never spoke about it, never made appointments, they started to anticipate their encounters. Soon their mouths joined their hands, becoming more skilful with the minute and with every inch of flesh tasted.
One night a bottle of lube was brought forth and intruding fingers wordlessly stretched entrances previously unexplored before one of them pulled the other one onto his lap.
It became impossible to look each other into the eyes in the broad neon light of CTU during the day, each movement still gloriously painful, moans still echoing in their heads.
They wordlessly established rules, both struggling to stay in control. No coffee breaks together. No consultations. Chase or Chloe or Michelle in the room with them at all times. Until after a couple of days their cheeks wouldn’t burn under the other’s gaze, their skin wouldn’t tingle when they passed each other and their cocks would stop twitching as soon as they heard the other’s voice.
Every time they told themselves it would be the last time. Only to discover that it never was.
Comments very much appreciated!