fic: The Wake Up Call (Push; Nick/Cassie; adult)
The Wake Up Call
Push; Nick/Cassie; adult; 2,375 words
Nick knows he needs Cassie--loves her--more than anything or anyone else in the world. But it's not until this moment that he recognizes that he wants her.
Written for the West Wing title project. Cassie's 17 in the story, for what that's worth.
~*~
The Wake Up Call
Nick sees Cassie every day for years; most days, she's first thing he sees in the morning and the last thing he sees at night. As she grows up, in seedy motel room after youth hostel after short-term apartment rental, he makes a point not to look too closely (and not to notice what other people think of them), which makes it hard for him to really see her. He knows she'll be there when he needs him, will back his play when she thinks it's the right thing, and fight with him when she thinks he's wrong. He notices the shifting colors in her hair, the way she cuts it when she thinks something small will change the future but doesn't know what. He knows she's gotten taller, smarter, stronger.
But it's not until Cassie starts stripping off her clothes that he knows she's grown up. The moonlight makes her skin and hair shine like silver, and he's struck, transfixed, by the sight of her as she stands at the edge of the pool--the long line of her back, the sweet curve of her ass, the legs that go on for days.
Getting out of his own clothes is completely forgotten. He can't stop staring at her.
She turns to look at him over her shoulder, her hair whipping around like a corona, and says, "What are you waiting for, an engraved invitation?"
And then she jumps into the water, the splash loud in the quiet night. Up this high, the sounds of the city coalesce into a soft rushing noise, like the wind in his ears. Or maybe it's just the sound of everything suddenly clicking together in his head.
The pool is lit from below, and Cassie looks like a mermaid, sleek and shimmering as she slips through the water. After a couple of lazy laps, she pops up, elbows propped on the edge of the pool and hair slicked back off her forehead.
"What's wrong?"
He jolts out of his reverie. "What?"
"There must be a reason you're not in the pool yet. When did you get all shy?"
"I'm not--" He sighs in exasperation. It's easier than explaining. "Whatever." He pulls off his T-shirt and steps out of his jeans, but keeps his boxer-briefs on. This is normal. This is familiar. They've been living in each other's pockets for four years now and privacy isn't always easy to come by, but he thinks they've managed okay. She feels safe with him, anyway, which is the most important thing. Safe enough to strip naked in front of him (which is a first), he thinks for once maybe she shouldn't, even though he knows he'd never intentionally hurt her.
He knows he needs her--loves her--more than anything or anyone else in the world. But it's not until this moment that he recognizes that he wants her.
He is so fucked.
He dives in after her, hoping the shock of the cold water will clear his head.
Of course, the pool is heated, and it feels great against his skin, warm and comfortable as a bath, and now he's imagining the tub in their room--it's big enough for both of them, which is a change from their usual--and he forces himself to stop thinking about it before he makes any decisions that will show up on Cassie's radar. He glares at her as if this is all her fault. She's off in the shallow end, floating on her back. He can see her tits poking up out of the water, small but perky, perfect for his hands and his mouth. The thought sends him back below the surface, where he can close his eyes and pretend he hasn't seen anything and doesn't want anything. Where he can pretend nothing's changed at all.
She's right there when he surfaces and he throws himself backwards, startled, water splashing around them.
She eyes him warily, like he's the one who's suddenly all naked and perfect and hot. "What the hell is going on with you?"
"Nothing." He shrugs and swims away.
"If you'd rather be with the lady who slipped you her room key in the bar," Cassie says, following him.
He stops swimming and turns to face her, paddling in place to keep from floating away and feeling ridiculous. "No. How'd you even know about that?"
"I've been watching it happen for years, Nick. You're not as stealthy as you think." She shakes her head and laughs. When he doesn't, she looks at him for a long moment, eyes narrowing suspiciously. "We've had a rough couple of months and we never get to stay in nice places like this, and I thought this'd be fun. But if you're just going to sulk because--I don't even know why, if it's not because you'd rather be with Chesty McBoobs from the bar--then forget it."
It's hard to make a dramatic exit from the water, but Cassie manages it, swimming to the ladder with a huff and then tossing her head with a sniff as she climbs out of the pool. She doesn't even seem to notice that she's naked, but now that Nick's noticed, he can't stop looking. He knows he should go after her, but he can't make himself move, either, so he just watches as she pulls on his T-shirt and stalks to the elevator.
Once she's gone, he climbs out and gathers up her clothes and his jeans and follows her back to the room, dripping all over the high-end carpeting.
She yanks the door open before he can knock. His T-shirt is plastered to her wet body, and he swallows hard, curling his hands into fists so he doesn't reach out to peel it off her. Her gaze darts down to his hands and then up to his face again, forehead furrowed as if she's having a vision.
And then she laughs. "It wasn't her," she says, her face lighting up the way it does when she's finally figured out what a vision means. "It was me."
"Cass?"
She grabs her sketchpad and shoves it at him; the pages are damp and starting to curl, and the drawing is rudimentary but easily recognizable--and not a little pornographic--for all that it's just a jumble of limbs, her legs wrapped around his hips and his hands in her hair, their faces pressed together.
"Oh."
She's smiling now, wide and bright and just a little wicked. "Yeah." She plucks the sketchpad out of his loose grip and tosses it onto the bed closest to the door (her bed, she'd announced when they'd checked in), then takes his hand in hers. "Come on," she says, tugging him towards the other bed. His bed. "Let's get this show on the road." She lets go of his hand to flop backwards onto his bed. As she scoots up towards the headboard, his T-shirt gets rucked up around her hips. She hasn't bothered to put on any underwear.
He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, trying to ignore the way his heart is hammering in chest, the way his dick is hard and aching for her, even in his clammy shorts. "Are you sure this is okay? It seems kind of fast." Even as he says it, though, he's shoving his underwear down and stepping out of them, enjoying the way she flushes when she glances down at his hard-on before refocusing on his face.
She laughs again and makes gimme hands at him. "Fast? Nick, I've wanted this since--well, if I tell you, you'll probably get even more freaked out, but as far as I'm concerned, it's been a long time coming. But we can take it slow if you need to. I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do."
"Huh. I think that's supposed to be my line." He climbs onto the bed, pushing her knees apart and settling into the cradle of her thighs. Her breath hitches and he holds her gaze, bringing his hands up to bracket her face. "I want to do lots of things," he says, leaning in to rub his nose against hers before he kisses her, her mouth hot and soft under his. She sighs into his mouth and wraps her arms around his neck.
"Good," she murmurs when he slides his lips along her jaw. "I'm glad we're finally on the same page."
Even with all her talk, Nick goes slow; he wants to savor it, savor her, and this new stage in their partnership. He's still a little dizzy from how quickly things have changed, but he's always been good at going with the opportunity that presents itself, and Cassie's always been the best prospect his future could hold. He kisses her for a long time, lips and tongue and occasional teeth, which makes her gasp and arch against him. When they're both breathless and panting into each other's mouths, he shifts down, kissing her neck and running his teeth along her collarbones. She tastes of chlorine and salt and for a moment he just presses his nose into the crook of her neck and breathes her in. She runs her hands through his hair, short nails scritching at his scalp and making him shiver against her. She moves her hands over his shoulders, learning him by feel the way he's learning her, and he arches into every touch. She tugs him back up to capture his lips with hers again, and he laughs into her mouth when she grabs his ass and squeezes. He has to take a moment to collect himself when she wraps a hand around his cock and strokes.
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," he mutters, curling his fingers over hers, and she laughs. "I don't want this to be over just as it's getting started."
"Whatever you say, Nick," she says, and that's the first time she's ever said that to him non-sarcastically, which is an unexpected plus to this whole thing where they're going to have sex now. He laughs, surprised and delighted, and she grins in response.
He pulls the wet T-shirt off over her head so he can lick and suck her nipples, just like he'd imagined in the pool. She bucks up against him with a hoarse moan, and he smiles against the soft curve of her breast. She does it again when he dips his fingers into the slick between her thighs, spreading her open and rubbing his dick against her folds, and he echoes her, the sensation sending jolts of pleasure through him.
She's tight and hot when he pushes his finger into her pussy and thumbs her clit and he has to take a deep breath and squeeze the base of his cock when he thinks about how she'll feel around it.
"Nick," she says, her voice high and thready. "Nick, please."
He adds another finger inside her, thumb still rubbing slow circles over her clit. "You like that?" She answers with a jerky nod and a thrust of her hips against his hand. He curls his fingers up inside her, stroking and rubbing until her whole body stiffens and her cunt clamps down hard on his fingers. "Good," he murmurs against her mouth. "Gonna make you feel so good."
"You already have," she answers, her face gone soft and sweet with pleasure.
He pulls his fingers out and licks them, enjoying the sweet-salty taste of her, and grinning when he realizes she's watching him closely. She presses her own hand to her cunt and starts fingering herself, which makes him stop and stare in return. He's so turned on it takes him a few moments to remember where he stashed the condoms, and he fumbles through the pockets of his duffle bag before he finds them.
"Oh, thank God," he says and she laughs breathlessly. He rolls it on quickly and settles between her legs again. "You sure about this, Cassie?"
"Yeah," she says, "I've seen it, just like a porny photograph. I want to know if it feels as good as it looks."
"Better," he promises. He pushes into her before she can respond, turning her laugh into a gasp. He kisses her, forcing himself to go slow and let her get used to it even though every nerve in his body is screaming at him to go hard and fast.
"Oh," she says, shifting beneath him, titling her hips up and taking him deeper. "Okay."
"Yeah?"
She nods. "Yeah. I--Yeah." She wraps her legs around his hips, just like in the drawing she'd shown him, and cups his face in her hands. "Come on, Nick. Fuck me."
Nick gasps out a little laugh and presses his forehead to hers for a second before he starts thrusting. "Yeah, okay." He fucks her with long, slow strokes at first, bracing himself on his elbows above her. "You should keep touching yourself," he says. He can feel the soft brush of her hand against his belly, and then she's pushing up against him, so he starts to move faster and harder, trying to bring her with him when he comes.
He mumbles encouragement in her ear and she gasps, her breath hot and quick against his cheek, a soft murmur of, "Yes, yes, yes," that he licks off her tongue when he comes, his hips stuttering hard into hers. She's still thrusting against her hand, chasing her climax, when he's done, and he tangles his fingers with hers to finish her off.
"Come on, Cassie. Come for me now."
Her second orgasm is just as beautiful to watch as the first. He kisses her eyelids, her forehead, her nose, and her cheeks before he licks his way into her mouth again for another slow, wet, messy kiss. If this is the future she's seen for them, he can't wait.
He rolls away to get rid of the condom and she makes a weak noise of protest, wrapping her fingers around his wrist again.
"I'm right here," he says, curling up around her and gathering her in.
"Good," she says. "It's where you belong."
"Yeah," he says. "I guess it is."
end
~*~
Feedback is adored.
~*~
This entry at DW: http://musesfool.dreamwidth.org/582046.html.
people have commented there.
Push; Nick/Cassie; adult; 2,375 words
Nick knows he needs Cassie--loves her--more than anything or anyone else in the world. But it's not until this moment that he recognizes that he wants her.
Written for the West Wing title project. Cassie's 17 in the story, for what that's worth.
~*~
The Wake Up Call
Nick sees Cassie every day for years; most days, she's first thing he sees in the morning and the last thing he sees at night. As she grows up, in seedy motel room after youth hostel after short-term apartment rental, he makes a point not to look too closely (and not to notice what other people think of them), which makes it hard for him to really see her. He knows she'll be there when he needs him, will back his play when she thinks it's the right thing, and fight with him when she thinks he's wrong. He notices the shifting colors in her hair, the way she cuts it when she thinks something small will change the future but doesn't know what. He knows she's gotten taller, smarter, stronger.
But it's not until Cassie starts stripping off her clothes that he knows she's grown up. The moonlight makes her skin and hair shine like silver, and he's struck, transfixed, by the sight of her as she stands at the edge of the pool--the long line of her back, the sweet curve of her ass, the legs that go on for days.
Getting out of his own clothes is completely forgotten. He can't stop staring at her.
She turns to look at him over her shoulder, her hair whipping around like a corona, and says, "What are you waiting for, an engraved invitation?"
And then she jumps into the water, the splash loud in the quiet night. Up this high, the sounds of the city coalesce into a soft rushing noise, like the wind in his ears. Or maybe it's just the sound of everything suddenly clicking together in his head.
The pool is lit from below, and Cassie looks like a mermaid, sleek and shimmering as she slips through the water. After a couple of lazy laps, she pops up, elbows propped on the edge of the pool and hair slicked back off her forehead.
"What's wrong?"
He jolts out of his reverie. "What?"
"There must be a reason you're not in the pool yet. When did you get all shy?"
"I'm not--" He sighs in exasperation. It's easier than explaining. "Whatever." He pulls off his T-shirt and steps out of his jeans, but keeps his boxer-briefs on. This is normal. This is familiar. They've been living in each other's pockets for four years now and privacy isn't always easy to come by, but he thinks they've managed okay. She feels safe with him, anyway, which is the most important thing. Safe enough to strip naked in front of him (which is a first), he thinks for once maybe she shouldn't, even though he knows he'd never intentionally hurt her.
He knows he needs her--loves her--more than anything or anyone else in the world. But it's not until this moment that he recognizes that he wants her.
He is so fucked.
He dives in after her, hoping the shock of the cold water will clear his head.
Of course, the pool is heated, and it feels great against his skin, warm and comfortable as a bath, and now he's imagining the tub in their room--it's big enough for both of them, which is a change from their usual--and he forces himself to stop thinking about it before he makes any decisions that will show up on Cassie's radar. He glares at her as if this is all her fault. She's off in the shallow end, floating on her back. He can see her tits poking up out of the water, small but perky, perfect for his hands and his mouth. The thought sends him back below the surface, where he can close his eyes and pretend he hasn't seen anything and doesn't want anything. Where he can pretend nothing's changed at all.
She's right there when he surfaces and he throws himself backwards, startled, water splashing around them.
She eyes him warily, like he's the one who's suddenly all naked and perfect and hot. "What the hell is going on with you?"
"Nothing." He shrugs and swims away.
"If you'd rather be with the lady who slipped you her room key in the bar," Cassie says, following him.
He stops swimming and turns to face her, paddling in place to keep from floating away and feeling ridiculous. "No. How'd you even know about that?"
"I've been watching it happen for years, Nick. You're not as stealthy as you think." She shakes her head and laughs. When he doesn't, she looks at him for a long moment, eyes narrowing suspiciously. "We've had a rough couple of months and we never get to stay in nice places like this, and I thought this'd be fun. But if you're just going to sulk because--I don't even know why, if it's not because you'd rather be with Chesty McBoobs from the bar--then forget it."
It's hard to make a dramatic exit from the water, but Cassie manages it, swimming to the ladder with a huff and then tossing her head with a sniff as she climbs out of the pool. She doesn't even seem to notice that she's naked, but now that Nick's noticed, he can't stop looking. He knows he should go after her, but he can't make himself move, either, so he just watches as she pulls on his T-shirt and stalks to the elevator.
Once she's gone, he climbs out and gathers up her clothes and his jeans and follows her back to the room, dripping all over the high-end carpeting.
She yanks the door open before he can knock. His T-shirt is plastered to her wet body, and he swallows hard, curling his hands into fists so he doesn't reach out to peel it off her. Her gaze darts down to his hands and then up to his face again, forehead furrowed as if she's having a vision.
And then she laughs. "It wasn't her," she says, her face lighting up the way it does when she's finally figured out what a vision means. "It was me."
"Cass?"
She grabs her sketchpad and shoves it at him; the pages are damp and starting to curl, and the drawing is rudimentary but easily recognizable--and not a little pornographic--for all that it's just a jumble of limbs, her legs wrapped around his hips and his hands in her hair, their faces pressed together.
"Oh."
She's smiling now, wide and bright and just a little wicked. "Yeah." She plucks the sketchpad out of his loose grip and tosses it onto the bed closest to the door (her bed, she'd announced when they'd checked in), then takes his hand in hers. "Come on," she says, tugging him towards the other bed. His bed. "Let's get this show on the road." She lets go of his hand to flop backwards onto his bed. As she scoots up towards the headboard, his T-shirt gets rucked up around her hips. She hasn't bothered to put on any underwear.
He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, trying to ignore the way his heart is hammering in chest, the way his dick is hard and aching for her, even in his clammy shorts. "Are you sure this is okay? It seems kind of fast." Even as he says it, though, he's shoving his underwear down and stepping out of them, enjoying the way she flushes when she glances down at his hard-on before refocusing on his face.
She laughs again and makes gimme hands at him. "Fast? Nick, I've wanted this since--well, if I tell you, you'll probably get even more freaked out, but as far as I'm concerned, it's been a long time coming. But we can take it slow if you need to. I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do."
"Huh. I think that's supposed to be my line." He climbs onto the bed, pushing her knees apart and settling into the cradle of her thighs. Her breath hitches and he holds her gaze, bringing his hands up to bracket her face. "I want to do lots of things," he says, leaning in to rub his nose against hers before he kisses her, her mouth hot and soft under his. She sighs into his mouth and wraps her arms around his neck.
"Good," she murmurs when he slides his lips along her jaw. "I'm glad we're finally on the same page."
Even with all her talk, Nick goes slow; he wants to savor it, savor her, and this new stage in their partnership. He's still a little dizzy from how quickly things have changed, but he's always been good at going with the opportunity that presents itself, and Cassie's always been the best prospect his future could hold. He kisses her for a long time, lips and tongue and occasional teeth, which makes her gasp and arch against him. When they're both breathless and panting into each other's mouths, he shifts down, kissing her neck and running his teeth along her collarbones. She tastes of chlorine and salt and for a moment he just presses his nose into the crook of her neck and breathes her in. She runs her hands through his hair, short nails scritching at his scalp and making him shiver against her. She moves her hands over his shoulders, learning him by feel the way he's learning her, and he arches into every touch. She tugs him back up to capture his lips with hers again, and he laughs into her mouth when she grabs his ass and squeezes. He has to take a moment to collect himself when she wraps a hand around his cock and strokes.
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," he mutters, curling his fingers over hers, and she laughs. "I don't want this to be over just as it's getting started."
"Whatever you say, Nick," she says, and that's the first time she's ever said that to him non-sarcastically, which is an unexpected plus to this whole thing where they're going to have sex now. He laughs, surprised and delighted, and she grins in response.
He pulls the wet T-shirt off over her head so he can lick and suck her nipples, just like he'd imagined in the pool. She bucks up against him with a hoarse moan, and he smiles against the soft curve of her breast. She does it again when he dips his fingers into the slick between her thighs, spreading her open and rubbing his dick against her folds, and he echoes her, the sensation sending jolts of pleasure through him.
She's tight and hot when he pushes his finger into her pussy and thumbs her clit and he has to take a deep breath and squeeze the base of his cock when he thinks about how she'll feel around it.
"Nick," she says, her voice high and thready. "Nick, please."
He adds another finger inside her, thumb still rubbing slow circles over her clit. "You like that?" She answers with a jerky nod and a thrust of her hips against his hand. He curls his fingers up inside her, stroking and rubbing until her whole body stiffens and her cunt clamps down hard on his fingers. "Good," he murmurs against her mouth. "Gonna make you feel so good."
"You already have," she answers, her face gone soft and sweet with pleasure.
He pulls his fingers out and licks them, enjoying the sweet-salty taste of her, and grinning when he realizes she's watching him closely. She presses her own hand to her cunt and starts fingering herself, which makes him stop and stare in return. He's so turned on it takes him a few moments to remember where he stashed the condoms, and he fumbles through the pockets of his duffle bag before he finds them.
"Oh, thank God," he says and she laughs breathlessly. He rolls it on quickly and settles between her legs again. "You sure about this, Cassie?"
"Yeah," she says, "I've seen it, just like a porny photograph. I want to know if it feels as good as it looks."
"Better," he promises. He pushes into her before she can respond, turning her laugh into a gasp. He kisses her, forcing himself to go slow and let her get used to it even though every nerve in his body is screaming at him to go hard and fast.
"Oh," she says, shifting beneath him, titling her hips up and taking him deeper. "Okay."
"Yeah?"
She nods. "Yeah. I--Yeah." She wraps her legs around his hips, just like in the drawing she'd shown him, and cups his face in her hands. "Come on, Nick. Fuck me."
Nick gasps out a little laugh and presses his forehead to hers for a second before he starts thrusting. "Yeah, okay." He fucks her with long, slow strokes at first, bracing himself on his elbows above her. "You should keep touching yourself," he says. He can feel the soft brush of her hand against his belly, and then she's pushing up against him, so he starts to move faster and harder, trying to bring her with him when he comes.
He mumbles encouragement in her ear and she gasps, her breath hot and quick against his cheek, a soft murmur of, "Yes, yes, yes," that he licks off her tongue when he comes, his hips stuttering hard into hers. She's still thrusting against her hand, chasing her climax, when he's done, and he tangles his fingers with hers to finish her off.
"Come on, Cassie. Come for me now."
Her second orgasm is just as beautiful to watch as the first. He kisses her eyelids, her forehead, her nose, and her cheeks before he licks his way into her mouth again for another slow, wet, messy kiss. If this is the future she's seen for them, he can't wait.
He rolls away to get rid of the condom and she makes a weak noise of protest, wrapping her fingers around his wrist again.
"I'm right here," he says, curling up around her and gathering her in.
"Good," she says. "It's where you belong."
"Yeah," he says. "I guess it is."
end
~*~
Feedback is adored.
~*~
This entry at DW: http://musesfool.dreamwidth.org/582046.html.
people have commented there.