RPFic: a spare heart shift (we start at marginal notes, you see?)
a spare heart shift (we start at marginal notes, you see?)
rpf, hugh/jen, nc-17, 747 words, general and early season two spoilers. you know, back when things weren’t too wacky. for _vicodin. who told me that the only productive use of my time on crack jellybeans was to write rpf. and here we are.
sela catches a stare, but shhh, don’t tell?
this is a crisis I knew had to come
joy division, passover
1.
she tells him once that she likes it when he calls her pretty girl, a thick-edged lace of laughter against her throat as she moans. and of course, it’s almost curious when he doesn’t believe her, his script pasted against his knee.
scene?
you call me a bastard quite a lot this season. his voice dry, his lips curl, and he aims to keep it light.
but think about it- she disappears into her trailer, sparked by breaks, her thumb brushing against the button of her jeans. there’s a click, the air skimming her hips as her knees hit the couch and her hand is swallowed by elastic.
her finger slides again her clit and gasp a fuck- she hates him for craving the taste of smoke- oh, yes. he knows this too.
it’s a curious bit of fun.
2.
sela catches a stare, but shhh, don’t tell?
there’s a call in the script for a kiss and she’s in another room, straying to lunch. he remembers ron livingston and that smile, so his guilt stays away and skims instead with thoughts of jo and home.
someone says something- sela forgets her line this time and the corner of his eyes spills into distance and sela laughs when he slips back.
jesse’s hand is on jen’s knee.
- it’s easy, don’t you see, there’s a headline quote in a magazine somewhere laurie says: ‘i really don’t understand where they find my sex appeal.
he starts to take excuses.
3.
let’s talk about bad ideas.
okay? okay.
she’s furious. jo’s furious. and his therapist isn’t picking up.
leave a message: apparently, he snaps, you’ve got to edit your available at any time promise. this is a bunch of bullshit
to jo: i sent bill’s gift to stephen. don’t trust the yankee post.
but jen? he was afraid of this. jen’s a little more complicated, on the other side of the city, and after a broken date with jesse, she’s not the best of company comes lisa’ warning, in passing.
it’s late when he arrive, but she opens the door and leans against the frame. much like season one- but don’t tell anyone that house is another voice is his fucking head.
script edit- fuck you, she tries tiredly, turning.
the difference here? well. jen’s much more fearless (confused, she argues, rolling her eyes) and has a bit of a mouth on her, a fierce gaze and vicious when she wants to be. which he doesn’t mind as he keeps thoughts of her, thoughts of this, and thoughts of his cock in her mouth.
his hand press against her hip; he’s inside, she’s against the door and his thumbs are under the elastic of her panties. she’s wearing a shirt, but he pays no attention, his tongue sliding against her clit after he shifts to his knees and always a fantastic cunt with his finger inside.
she rocks against his hand. and he sucks hard, the taste of her staining his lips.
they’re well-past we can’t do this.
4.
interviewer: does house think about it?
(relationship is a dirty word)
hugh: [smirks, reaching for water] how can he not?
5.
in bed, his place.
there’s a ticket on the kitchen table, hers, to chicago for later that evening. she’s in his lap, naked, breasts pressing against his chest and he’s about to tell her how much he likes her sucking her nipples.
but jen breathes, tracing his lips as he tilts his fag off to the side. ash crumbles into a tray and dickens crashes to the floor.
i couldn’t watch, she admits idly. -it’s been months.
his lips curl faintly. they can’t escape complicated. i know, he murmurs. his teeth graze her throat and she almost purrs.
sela thought you didn’t like her.
jen laughs, her hair falling into her eyes. i know, lisa told me.
they stop here. it’ll be the summer of season three soon.
a reader’s guide to behind the scenes:
on emmy night, there’s a bathroom around the stage- it’s reckless, he admits, but he comes between her legs and her throat is thick with a moan.
people are too drunk, she breathes.
already, he adds, his palms sweaty.
- during his acceptance speech, his fingers curl around a pair of crumpled lace panties. the wet fabric sticks to his thumb and he still taste her after a thank you (maybe it was go to bed, kids).
everybody’s got their addictions, you know.
end.
rpf, hugh/jen, nc-17, 747 words, general and early season two spoilers. you know, back when things weren’t too wacky. for _vicodin. who told me that the only productive use of my time on crack jellybeans was to write rpf. and here we are.
sela catches a stare, but shhh, don’t tell?
this is a crisis I knew had to come
joy division, passover
1.
she tells him once that she likes it when he calls her pretty girl, a thick-edged lace of laughter against her throat as she moans. and of course, it’s almost curious when he doesn’t believe her, his script pasted against his knee.
scene?
you call me a bastard quite a lot this season. his voice dry, his lips curl, and he aims to keep it light.
but think about it- she disappears into her trailer, sparked by breaks, her thumb brushing against the button of her jeans. there’s a click, the air skimming her hips as her knees hit the couch and her hand is swallowed by elastic.
her finger slides again her clit and gasp a fuck- she hates him for craving the taste of smoke- oh, yes. he knows this too.
it’s a curious bit of fun.
2.
sela catches a stare, but shhh, don’t tell?
there’s a call in the script for a kiss and she’s in another room, straying to lunch. he remembers ron livingston and that smile, so his guilt stays away and skims instead with thoughts of jo and home.
someone says something- sela forgets her line this time and the corner of his eyes spills into distance and sela laughs when he slips back.
jesse’s hand is on jen’s knee.
- it’s easy, don’t you see, there’s a headline quote in a magazine somewhere laurie says: ‘i really don’t understand where they find my sex appeal.
he starts to take excuses.
3.
let’s talk about bad ideas.
okay? okay.
she’s furious. jo’s furious. and his therapist isn’t picking up.
leave a message: apparently, he snaps, you’ve got to edit your available at any time promise. this is a bunch of bullshit
to jo: i sent bill’s gift to stephen. don’t trust the yankee post.
but jen? he was afraid of this. jen’s a little more complicated, on the other side of the city, and after a broken date with jesse, she’s not the best of company comes lisa’ warning, in passing.
it’s late when he arrive, but she opens the door and leans against the frame. much like season one- but don’t tell anyone that house is another voice is his fucking head.
script edit- fuck you, she tries tiredly, turning.
the difference here? well. jen’s much more fearless (confused, she argues, rolling her eyes) and has a bit of a mouth on her, a fierce gaze and vicious when she wants to be. which he doesn’t mind as he keeps thoughts of her, thoughts of this, and thoughts of his cock in her mouth.
his hand press against her hip; he’s inside, she’s against the door and his thumbs are under the elastic of her panties. she’s wearing a shirt, but he pays no attention, his tongue sliding against her clit after he shifts to his knees and always a fantastic cunt with his finger inside.
she rocks against his hand. and he sucks hard, the taste of her staining his lips.
they’re well-past we can’t do this.
4.
interviewer: does house think about it?
(relationship is a dirty word)
hugh: [smirks, reaching for water] how can he not?
5.
in bed, his place.
there’s a ticket on the kitchen table, hers, to chicago for later that evening. she’s in his lap, naked, breasts pressing against his chest and he’s about to tell her how much he likes her sucking her nipples.
but jen breathes, tracing his lips as he tilts his fag off to the side. ash crumbles into a tray and dickens crashes to the floor.
i couldn’t watch, she admits idly. -it’s been months.
his lips curl faintly. they can’t escape complicated. i know, he murmurs. his teeth graze her throat and she almost purrs.
sela thought you didn’t like her.
jen laughs, her hair falling into her eyes. i know, lisa told me.
they stop here. it’ll be the summer of season three soon.
a reader’s guide to behind the scenes:
on emmy night, there’s a bathroom around the stage- it’s reckless, he admits, but he comes between her legs and her throat is thick with a moan.
people are too drunk, she breathes.
already, he adds, his palms sweaty.
- during his acceptance speech, his fingers curl around a pair of crumpled lace panties. the wet fabric sticks to his thumb and he still taste her after a thank you (maybe it was go to bed, kids).
everybody’s got their addictions, you know.
end.