FIC: Because the Night (1/1) R Brothers & Sisters(kind of but not really)/RP
TITLE: Because the Night
AUTHOR: Laura Smith
PAIRING: Julia/John (OMC)
RATING: R
SUMMARY: Take me now, baby, here as I am
DISCLAIMER: Brothers & Sisters and all the characters therein belong to people who are not me. I make no profit from this, I just like playing with them.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to inlovewithnight for the beta (and for, you know, creating the OMC).
He hasn’t thought about the night in ages.
It was another thing that he left behind when he got home from the beach and found the moving van in front of the house, and a bunch of guys in his room packing his stuff. He’d kicked the movers out and done it himself, packing his shit as he made a mix-tape for Kevin, hoping he’d understand what the words meant, even if Kevin had always told John that eighth graders wrote better poetry than Springsteen. John didn’t do words, so this was the only way he knew how to say goodbye.
He doesn’t think about that though, not any more than he thought about the night of the last football game of the season his sophomore year when Julia Carlson, who was not only head cheerleader, but Tommy Walker’s girlfriend (and he knew that better than anyone, seeing it at school, at Kevin’s house, in the driveway, in the boathouse that one time), slipped away from the rest of her friends in the last quarter and tugged him under the bleachers.
At first he’d thought she wanted to talk to him. They occasionally actually did that, two outsiders in the Walker conclave, and since John was a few years ahead in math, he did share a class with her, but before he could even ask what was up, she was kissing him. Five million different thoughts clamored in his head, all of which were related to the fact that Tommy Walker was going to fucking kill him, except for the two that were, in no particular order God, this is better than I imagined and What would Kevin think?.
Pretty soon all of them were edged out by the fact that her shoulders were bare in her uniform tank-top, dusty gold from the sun and he had to taste them, see if they were as sweet and warm as they looked. Julia tilted her head back, exposing her throat as her ponytail fell away and he had to taste that too, had to compare, because she really couldn’t taste like powder and perfume and sunlight all fucking over, could she?
Her hands dug into his thick, curly hair; her nails scraped his scalp and he moaned against her kiss, hand sliding down over her breasts and stomach, teasing the tank top from where it was tucked into her short cheerleading skirt so he could ease his hands beneath it. Her skin was soft and smooth, like he vaguely remembered his sister Elizabeth’s skin being when she was first born, baby-soft and unreal. He groaned, fingers feeling rough and unwieldy on her flesh, moving up to curve over the swell of her breasts. Lace scratched at his palms, tickling them over the hard pressure of her nipples.
“Jules…”
She made a soft sound in her throat, finding his mouth again and taking possession of it, her tongue assaulting him, curving around his and sucking on it. A brief thought of Kevin crashed into his head, only he and Kevin called her Jules, and something about that made this even worse, made it more wrong, but damned if he could stop as she pushed him backwards against the bench the school had placed under the bleachers for the smokers, sprawling him against it, along it as she knelt down, settling between his knees, her body firm against the ache growing in his cock.
She tugged off her shirt, tossing it across the bench beside him. John’s hands moved of their own accord, squeezing and caressing the flesh in the bra beneath them for a moment before sliding down and undoing the latch between her breasts that held the cups together. Julia made a sound something like a whimper as it came free, shrugging off the lingerie as John’s hands moved back, covering the flesh in earnest this time, feeling it, indescribably soft against his hands.
John groaned again and shifted, his cock uncomfortably hard in his jeans. He’d never been this far with a girl, much less a girl like Julia, so long as you didn’t count the time with Tish in Sandy Bartholomew’s basement, but Tish didn’t, so John didn’t and holy fuck, if he’d known that it would be like this, he’d have given up dirty magazines ages ago to try the real thing.
Julia was urging her body against his, rolling into his touch like a slow thrust and the word got lodged in his head and his cock tightened again, the hard pulse of it matching the roar of blood in his ears. She found his mouth again, almost as if she knew he was going to say something, say something stupid, and the hard press of her lips and tongue and breasts and body against him shut up him, kept every brain cell from working just from sheer overload.
“Want to fuck you, Johnny.” Her voice was rough and hoarse and made, he was pretty sure, of temptation itself. She stood up and raised her skirt, shedding her bloomers and panties down past her knee pads to the grass. John braced himself on the bench to keep from falling off the damn thing, hands curving around the wood until he felt splinters slide into his skin. The sharp pain snapped through him and she was still there, so he ignored the throbbing in his hands for the throbbing in his cock, unfastening his jeans as quickly as he could.
“You want that?” Her voice continued to be thick and hot, and all he could see was her naked breasts above him and her skirt flared out across his lap as he shoved his jeans down, fumbling for his wallet, for the condom he kept there in what he had thought was more reluctant optimism than anything else.
“Yes. Fuck, yes, Jules.” He managed the condom with shaking hands, glad he’d spent half the pack practicing getting the damn thing on, and looked up at her, bracing himself against the bench as she straddled him, the edge of her kneepads hot against his thighs. She sank down slowly, her own hand holding him and guiding him inside her, almost as if she knew there was no way in hell John could manage to do it without falling off the bench, injuring one or both of them, or coming right on the spot.
He lost track of the world around him as she sank down, heat and tight and wet surrounding him. He’d spent a good three or four years imagining this moment with the palm of his right hand, but nothing he’d guessed at came close. He slide his hands along her thighs from the top of her kneepads to beneath her skirt, gripping her hips tightly, pretending he had some measure of control over what was happening.
Julia’s hands were in his hair, tight and hard and she was kissing him, taking possession of his mouth like she had a right to it. He moaned her name, knowing he was close and not knowing a fucking thing about her when suddenly he felt the heat ratchet up, her body contract around him like a fucking vice and her teeth sink into his lip deep enough to draw blood. He groaned, hips jerking upward, desperate. He came as well, his hands tightening, and he wondered for a second if he’d leave bruises and if Tommy would fucking fingerprint every single guy in the school and then Julia was sliding off him, her skirt feathering against his spent cock as she went.
He couldn’t quite tell what her smile meant as she looked at him, pulling on her bra and shirt and everything else he’d stripped her out of. He could hear the faint sounds of the game and wondered if Kevin was wondering where the fuck John was with the sodas. A cheer went up and Julia smiled again. “Gotta run. Sounds like we’re winning. They’re going to need me on the field if we do.”
He nodded, unable to manage much else as he stood and removed the condom, lost in the mess of clean up and dressing. He started back to the spot where she’d cornered him, surprised that the tray of drinks and popcorn was gone. He shoved his hands in his pockets and headed up the bleachers, stopping halfway up at the sight of Kevin, sitting there with the two girls they’d brought, drinks and treats spread between the three of them.
“What took you so long?” His date, Madeline, asked. “Kevin had to go get drinks and stuff.”
“I…”
“I’m sure John was just on the sidelines,” Kevin offered, carefully not looking at John, though the smile on his face spoke volumes. “Cheering the team on.”
AUTHOR: Laura Smith
PAIRING: Julia/John (OMC)
RATING: R
SUMMARY: Take me now, baby, here as I am
DISCLAIMER: Brothers & Sisters and all the characters therein belong to people who are not me. I make no profit from this, I just like playing with them.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to inlovewithnight for the beta (and for, you know, creating the OMC).
He hasn’t thought about the night in ages.
It was another thing that he left behind when he got home from the beach and found the moving van in front of the house, and a bunch of guys in his room packing his stuff. He’d kicked the movers out and done it himself, packing his shit as he made a mix-tape for Kevin, hoping he’d understand what the words meant, even if Kevin had always told John that eighth graders wrote better poetry than Springsteen. John didn’t do words, so this was the only way he knew how to say goodbye.
He doesn’t think about that though, not any more than he thought about the night of the last football game of the season his sophomore year when Julia Carlson, who was not only head cheerleader, but Tommy Walker’s girlfriend (and he knew that better than anyone, seeing it at school, at Kevin’s house, in the driveway, in the boathouse that one time), slipped away from the rest of her friends in the last quarter and tugged him under the bleachers.
At first he’d thought she wanted to talk to him. They occasionally actually did that, two outsiders in the Walker conclave, and since John was a few years ahead in math, he did share a class with her, but before he could even ask what was up, she was kissing him. Five million different thoughts clamored in his head, all of which were related to the fact that Tommy Walker was going to fucking kill him, except for the two that were, in no particular order God, this is better than I imagined and What would Kevin think?.
Pretty soon all of them were edged out by the fact that her shoulders were bare in her uniform tank-top, dusty gold from the sun and he had to taste them, see if they were as sweet and warm as they looked. Julia tilted her head back, exposing her throat as her ponytail fell away and he had to taste that too, had to compare, because she really couldn’t taste like powder and perfume and sunlight all fucking over, could she?
Her hands dug into his thick, curly hair; her nails scraped his scalp and he moaned against her kiss, hand sliding down over her breasts and stomach, teasing the tank top from where it was tucked into her short cheerleading skirt so he could ease his hands beneath it. Her skin was soft and smooth, like he vaguely remembered his sister Elizabeth’s skin being when she was first born, baby-soft and unreal. He groaned, fingers feeling rough and unwieldy on her flesh, moving up to curve over the swell of her breasts. Lace scratched at his palms, tickling them over the hard pressure of her nipples.
“Jules…”
She made a soft sound in her throat, finding his mouth again and taking possession of it, her tongue assaulting him, curving around his and sucking on it. A brief thought of Kevin crashed into his head, only he and Kevin called her Jules, and something about that made this even worse, made it more wrong, but damned if he could stop as she pushed him backwards against the bench the school had placed under the bleachers for the smokers, sprawling him against it, along it as she knelt down, settling between his knees, her body firm against the ache growing in his cock.
She tugged off her shirt, tossing it across the bench beside him. John’s hands moved of their own accord, squeezing and caressing the flesh in the bra beneath them for a moment before sliding down and undoing the latch between her breasts that held the cups together. Julia made a sound something like a whimper as it came free, shrugging off the lingerie as John’s hands moved back, covering the flesh in earnest this time, feeling it, indescribably soft against his hands.
John groaned again and shifted, his cock uncomfortably hard in his jeans. He’d never been this far with a girl, much less a girl like Julia, so long as you didn’t count the time with Tish in Sandy Bartholomew’s basement, but Tish didn’t, so John didn’t and holy fuck, if he’d known that it would be like this, he’d have given up dirty magazines ages ago to try the real thing.
Julia was urging her body against his, rolling into his touch like a slow thrust and the word got lodged in his head and his cock tightened again, the hard pulse of it matching the roar of blood in his ears. She found his mouth again, almost as if she knew he was going to say something, say something stupid, and the hard press of her lips and tongue and breasts and body against him shut up him, kept every brain cell from working just from sheer overload.
“Want to fuck you, Johnny.” Her voice was rough and hoarse and made, he was pretty sure, of temptation itself. She stood up and raised her skirt, shedding her bloomers and panties down past her knee pads to the grass. John braced himself on the bench to keep from falling off the damn thing, hands curving around the wood until he felt splinters slide into his skin. The sharp pain snapped through him and she was still there, so he ignored the throbbing in his hands for the throbbing in his cock, unfastening his jeans as quickly as he could.
“You want that?” Her voice continued to be thick and hot, and all he could see was her naked breasts above him and her skirt flared out across his lap as he shoved his jeans down, fumbling for his wallet, for the condom he kept there in what he had thought was more reluctant optimism than anything else.
“Yes. Fuck, yes, Jules.” He managed the condom with shaking hands, glad he’d spent half the pack practicing getting the damn thing on, and looked up at her, bracing himself against the bench as she straddled him, the edge of her kneepads hot against his thighs. She sank down slowly, her own hand holding him and guiding him inside her, almost as if she knew there was no way in hell John could manage to do it without falling off the bench, injuring one or both of them, or coming right on the spot.
He lost track of the world around him as she sank down, heat and tight and wet surrounding him. He’d spent a good three or four years imagining this moment with the palm of his right hand, but nothing he’d guessed at came close. He slide his hands along her thighs from the top of her kneepads to beneath her skirt, gripping her hips tightly, pretending he had some measure of control over what was happening.
Julia’s hands were in his hair, tight and hard and she was kissing him, taking possession of his mouth like she had a right to it. He moaned her name, knowing he was close and not knowing a fucking thing about her when suddenly he felt the heat ratchet up, her body contract around him like a fucking vice and her teeth sink into his lip deep enough to draw blood. He groaned, hips jerking upward, desperate. He came as well, his hands tightening, and he wondered for a second if he’d leave bruises and if Tommy would fucking fingerprint every single guy in the school and then Julia was sliding off him, her skirt feathering against his spent cock as she went.
He couldn’t quite tell what her smile meant as she looked at him, pulling on her bra and shirt and everything else he’d stripped her out of. He could hear the faint sounds of the game and wondered if Kevin was wondering where the fuck John was with the sodas. A cheer went up and Julia smiled again. “Gotta run. Sounds like we’re winning. They’re going to need me on the field if we do.”
He nodded, unable to manage much else as he stood and removed the condom, lost in the mess of clean up and dressing. He started back to the spot where she’d cornered him, surprised that the tray of drinks and popcorn was gone. He shoved his hands in his pockets and headed up the bleachers, stopping halfway up at the sight of Kevin, sitting there with the two girls they’d brought, drinks and treats spread between the three of them.
“What took you so long?” His date, Madeline, asked. “Kevin had to go get drinks and stuff.”
“I…”
“I’m sure John was just on the sidelines,” Kevin offered, carefully not looking at John, though the smile on his face spoke volumes. “Cheering the team on.”