I wish this show was back already. I miss these characters!
Title: "Safety First"
Author: monimala
Fandom: Make It or Break It
Rating/Classification: R, Payson/Sasha, angst, sexual content.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters and am making no profit.
Summary: 550 words. Set after S2's mid-season break. Written for
Porn Battle XI, for the prompt "fear."
Every time she comes to him in the dark, knocking on his trailer door and begging to be let in, he should turn her away. But he doesn't. He can't. He's become terribly selfish during his time at the Rock. Driven by ego and need and even more ego. So he welcomes her in, tugs her close, palm sliding up the back of her practical tank top and fingers skating back down each beautiful inch of her spine. She's whole. She's real. She's safe. But Sasha's afraid she'll break again. Not on the bars, not from a bad tumble or a spill off the beam. No, he's afraid she'll break in his arms.
"Stupid," she chuckles, in that low, husky voice of hers. It startled him, the first time he heard her speak. She doesn't sound like a gymnast, but like a late night telephone sex operator. Not that he's ever given her such a call. "You're being stupid," she repeats, staring up at him. Her eyes are too old for her as well. Perhaps too old for *him*. "You're not going to break me, Sasha. You wouldn't."
"Oh?" His hands around her wrists aren't kind. And when he backs her up against the edge of his mattress, it's not gentle. He grips her hair with his free hand, threading through the long, silky strands and twisting. But she doesn't gasp. She doesn't wince. Her unpainted pink mouth just curves into a knowing smile and she slides one leg around his, hooking it behind his knee and using the momentum to pitch them both back onto the bed.
And while he's still orienting himself, she's tugging at the drawstring of his sweatpants, murmuring against his collarbone that "I didn't say you *couldn't* break me… I said you wouldn't."
He buries his lips in her hair, closing his eyes and praying that's true. Praying that this beautiful, amazing young woman is right. Because he's too greedy to let her go. Too mad with the power of sinking inside her, owning her throaty cries of his name and each strike of her blunt nails into his shoulders. "Why do you have such faith in me, Payson? Why?"
She shimmies out of her track pants, kicking them away and coming up with a condom from god knows where. She sheaths him in latex like she's been doing it for months, not just the handful of times since she wooed him back here. Sometimes he thinks Payson slept with him to clinch the deal, to make certain he would come home, because she is just that determined to have a coach get her to the Olympics. And other times… other times he knows better. Right now, he knows better.
"I have faith in you, Sasha, because you have faith in me." She presses the world's most innocent kiss to the tip of his cock, before crawling back up his body and settling atop him. She's so absurdly matter-of-fact it takes his breath away. She's won him, just like she intends to win the gold. With perseverance and drive and her sweet-tart mouth. With her heat and her sex and her unwavering trust.
She's whole. She's real. She's safe. And Sasha's afraid she'll break again.
More than that, he's afraid he won't recover from it.
--end--
January 24, 2011