Fic: Fumbling Towards Ecstasy, Evan/Cam, NC-17
Title: Fumbling Towards Ecstasy
Author: Rubygirl29
Genre: Slash
Pairing: Evan Lorne/Cam Mitchell
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: Don't own them in this galaxy or any other.
Authors Note: The morning after Clueless in Colorado First time encounters aren't always the best. Apologies to Sarah McLaughlin for hijacking her title. This really has nothing to do with her song.
Also at AO3
Fumbling Towards Ecstasy
Evan Lorne isn't used to waking up with another body in bed with him. He feels tangled, awkward, too close. He smells like sex and beer. What the fuck? How wasted had he been last night? He opens sleep-sticky eyes. The light invades and he groans and tries to throw an arm over his eyes, but he can't move it. It's stuck beneath the body in the bed next to him. He turns his head.
Short, dirty-blond hair, smooth skin marred with a few scars. What he can see of the profile is clean and sharp. Pretty mouth, and if he recalls correctly, even prettier blue eyes. Cam Mitchell. He remembers now. It hadn't been a disaster, but given the sparks that had been flying between them all evening, the kindling hadn't quite caught fire, either.
He wasn't a pick-up artist. He wasn't a one-night stand. He wasn't a casual lay. God, he was so fucked up ...
Mitchell moves, turns. Opens his eyes. They are sky blue and a bit sleep-reddened. "Morning," he says with a lazy smile. Lorne's heart starts beating faster.
"Morning."
Lorne feels his cheeks warm and wonders if Mitchell can see it. This is just so damn awkward.
"Morning." He feels like he needs an escape. He tugs his arm free and sits up. "Can I ... umm ... shower?"
"Sure. Towels are in the cupboard in the bathroom. Coffee?"
"Thanks." He starts towards the bathroom, wanting to say something about last night.
Mitchell beats him to it. "About last night ... It was good," which makes Evan feel like he had missed something important.
"Yeah ..." He turns towards the bathroom.
"Want to try again?" Mitchell looks both hopeful and mischievous. As he sits up the covers slide down below his navel. Nice abs, nice ... everything. The sheets peak slightly. Evan is suddenly aware that he is naked and that Cam apparently likes that.
"Now?"
Mitchell laughs a bit. "Well, not this second, no. I think food and coffee and some downtime?"
"Sounds like a plan." Evan is relieved. He realizes he's starving. At the same time he notices that looking at Cam's body is making his own react happily -- which is a good thing. He snatches up his jeans. "Five minutes ..."
He takes a cool shower, runs his hands over his dark hair, pulls on his jeans. He doesn't bother with a tee-shirt or shoes. Cam, standing at the kitchen counter, is wearing well-worn jeans that gap slightly at his waist. There are more scars, fresher scars, than Evan had realized, and for some reason that raises an ache in the center of his chest. He cough softly, knowing that startling a guy with the sort of training Mitchell has isn't the smartest thing to do.
Cam turns, smiles. "Hey, how do you like your eggs?"
"As long as they're real eggs, you can cook them anyway you want." He pours coffee into an Air Force mug and watches Cam scramble eggs. He takes sausage out of the oven, puts muffins in to warm.
"Muffins?"
Cam blushes. "My mom left them in my freezer."
"I'm not complaining!" He refills Cam's mug and sits at the breakfast bar. He files that information away. Cam's mom leaves him muffins. Probably a freezer full of casseroles, too. Cam has that wholesome Midwestern look and the drawl to match.
He sits across from Evan; his blue, blue eyes level with his as they talk, awkwardness left behind. On paper, they don't have a lot in common; Midwest upbringing for Mitchell, the San Francisco art scene for Evan. They both went to the Air Force Academy, but Mitchell was several years ahead of Evan. Cam was football, Evan baseball. Cam is impetuous, Evan likes order and plans.
Evan sets his fork down and rests his hand on the table. A moment later ... a heart-stopping moment later ... Cam's fingers weave through Evan's. He raises their linked hands to his lips. It is a deeper intimacy than what they had done last night, somehow. He leans across the narrow breakfast bar and kisses Evan.
He tastes like coffee and salt. There are a few grains of sugar on his lips that Evan gently sweeps away with his tongue. It's beyond nice. It's warming and tender, promising everything Evan had hoped the night before would have been.
They break apart and Cam is looking as dazed as Evan. "Wow," he says. "That was ... I think I could have some more of that."
Evan is in total agreement. He starts gathering up plates while Cam gets the silverware and mugs. They work together easily, shoulders brushing, a brief press of skin against skin. Evan smiles as Cam kisses the crown of his shoulder then turns him. Cam bends his head, sucks softly at the knob of bone, runs his tongue along Evan's clavicle.
Evan wants to melt. He holds on to Cam's hips, pulls him in tight, feels the hardness of his erection and his own response, faster and more intense than he anticipated. Cam plunges his tongue into Evan's mouth, strokes against his hard palate, sending tingles of arousal through Evan's body.
He's backed up against the counter. He braces himself on his arms and lets Cam have his way. He feels the rasp of Cam's stubble like sandpaper brushing down his chest. In contrast, Cam's lips are soft as he sucks Evan's nipples to hard nubs. His fingers are deft as he opens Evan's jeans and tugs the zipper down. Evan isn't wearing anything under his jeans, and his erection springs free. He feels Cam's smile as his fingers brush over the swollen tip and slick come. He drops to his knees, Evan starts shaking because this is the best thing he's ever felt; Cam's mouth is warm and velvety, his perfect lips are sliding the length of Evan's cock, and he isn't afraid to take Evan deep in his throat until Evan's hands tighten involuntarily on his shoulders warning him of his climax. Cam holds him steady, warm palms against his waist, reassuring him. He comes into Cam's mouth, crying out, shaking apart as Cam milks him until he has nothing left and nothing matters but that Cam stays there, holding him, keeping him from falling.
Cam doesn't let him fall. He guides Evan to the living room. Cam's couch is big, deep. They fall together on it. Evan feels like his every nerve has been lit by fireworks. He opens Cam's jeans, finding that he's gone commando and grins at the discovery. "Sweet," he says and pulls the denim down Cam's long legs. Cam is spread out naked. One leg resting on the floor, the other drawn up. He's open, his cock is erect and flushed against the paler skin of his groin, and nestled in dark swirls of hair.
Evan sees with the eyes of an artist. To his eyes, Cam is masculine perfection. For a moment, his fingers itch to have charcoal in them, capturing Cam's body which even with flaws and scars is the most beautiful thing Evan has ever seen.
"Is something wrong?" Cam asks, breaking the moment.
"Not a damn thing," Evan replies. Suddenly, he can't bear not having his hands on Cam's body, his lips on Cam's lips. He strips off his own jeans and joins Cam on the couch. Their bodies seem to know the alignment, the bones and muscles, the hollows and the tender places.
Cam's frame is big, but he could use more flesh ... as if he's lost weight that he hasn't regained. When Evan kisses him, he tastes the bitter musk of his own semen caught at the corner of Cam's mouth. Their mingled taste is bitter and sweet, nuanced and addictive. It surprises him.
He looks up at Cam. His pupils are so blown with arousal that they nearly eclipse the pale blue of his irises. Evan doesn't know what to do, what Cam wants. Cam's fingers brush through his hair, rest on the nape of his neck. Evan feels the slight pressure and kisses Cam again. He strokes down Cam's throat, kisses the pulse point, sucks on the strong tendons as his fingers trail down the rough hair on Cam's chest. He wants to feel and taste every inch of skin, but Cam is starting to writhe under his touch, his hips arching up against Evan, his cock hard and leaking come.
Evan, to his surprise, is hard again as well. He can't help pressing down into Cam, trapping their cocks, moving and jerking as skin rubbed against sensitive skin, as their semen smears between them. Cam's fingers were gripping Evan's shoulders hard enough to leave bruises, but that pain is so close to pleasure that Evan welcomes it. He bites the skin over the raw knob of Cam's shoulder, feels him draw a sharp breath, even as he tries to reach between them to jerk Evan off. He doesn't need the stimulation. Darkness edges his vision as arousal spirals and knots and curls in his groin.
Cam's eyes widen, his face flushes, his mouth grows slack as every sense turns inward. He climaxes, his semen spurting between them; hot and wet. The heat and release of friction is all Evan needs to follow Cam's ejaculation with his own.
They lie quiet. Sweat cools on their skin, heartbeats slow to normal. Delirious, that's how Evan feels. Like he's had a fever and it's finally slaked and broken. Cam is curled slightly around him, as much as the depth of the couch will allow. His eyes are closed. His mouth now has a happy curve. He looks amazing.
Evan wants more. He wants this. He wants this forever. Forever, after one damn night that had left him fumbling for something ... like trying to find a diamond in the dark.
Cam stirs, opens his eyes; soft and blue as the sky after a spring rain. He grins at Evan. They don't have to talk. Evan imagines he looks as dazed and happy as Cam. They untangle their limbs. When they're upright, they are wrapped up in each other again, heading to the bathroom and the shower; from ecstasy to normalcy, to new beginnings.
The End
Author: Rubygirl29
Genre: Slash
Pairing: Evan Lorne/Cam Mitchell
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: Don't own them in this galaxy or any other.
Authors Note: The morning after Clueless in Colorado First time encounters aren't always the best. Apologies to Sarah McLaughlin for hijacking her title. This really has nothing to do with her song.
Also at AO3
Fumbling Towards Ecstasy
Evan Lorne isn't used to waking up with another body in bed with him. He feels tangled, awkward, too close. He smells like sex and beer. What the fuck? How wasted had he been last night? He opens sleep-sticky eyes. The light invades and he groans and tries to throw an arm over his eyes, but he can't move it. It's stuck beneath the body in the bed next to him. He turns his head.
Short, dirty-blond hair, smooth skin marred with a few scars. What he can see of the profile is clean and sharp. Pretty mouth, and if he recalls correctly, even prettier blue eyes. Cam Mitchell. He remembers now. It hadn't been a disaster, but given the sparks that had been flying between them all evening, the kindling hadn't quite caught fire, either.
He wasn't a pick-up artist. He wasn't a one-night stand. He wasn't a casual lay. God, he was so fucked up ...
Mitchell moves, turns. Opens his eyes. They are sky blue and a bit sleep-reddened. "Morning," he says with a lazy smile. Lorne's heart starts beating faster.
"Morning."
Lorne feels his cheeks warm and wonders if Mitchell can see it. This is just so damn awkward.
"Morning." He feels like he needs an escape. He tugs his arm free and sits up. "Can I ... umm ... shower?"
"Sure. Towels are in the cupboard in the bathroom. Coffee?"
"Thanks." He starts towards the bathroom, wanting to say something about last night.
Mitchell beats him to it. "About last night ... It was good," which makes Evan feel like he had missed something important.
"Yeah ..." He turns towards the bathroom.
"Want to try again?" Mitchell looks both hopeful and mischievous. As he sits up the covers slide down below his navel. Nice abs, nice ... everything. The sheets peak slightly. Evan is suddenly aware that he is naked and that Cam apparently likes that.
"Now?"
Mitchell laughs a bit. "Well, not this second, no. I think food and coffee and some downtime?"
"Sounds like a plan." Evan is relieved. He realizes he's starving. At the same time he notices that looking at Cam's body is making his own react happily -- which is a good thing. He snatches up his jeans. "Five minutes ..."
He takes a cool shower, runs his hands over his dark hair, pulls on his jeans. He doesn't bother with a tee-shirt or shoes. Cam, standing at the kitchen counter, is wearing well-worn jeans that gap slightly at his waist. There are more scars, fresher scars, than Evan had realized, and for some reason that raises an ache in the center of his chest. He cough softly, knowing that startling a guy with the sort of training Mitchell has isn't the smartest thing to do.
Cam turns, smiles. "Hey, how do you like your eggs?"
"As long as they're real eggs, you can cook them anyway you want." He pours coffee into an Air Force mug and watches Cam scramble eggs. He takes sausage out of the oven, puts muffins in to warm.
"Muffins?"
Cam blushes. "My mom left them in my freezer."
"I'm not complaining!" He refills Cam's mug and sits at the breakfast bar. He files that information away. Cam's mom leaves him muffins. Probably a freezer full of casseroles, too. Cam has that wholesome Midwestern look and the drawl to match.
He sits across from Evan; his blue, blue eyes level with his as they talk, awkwardness left behind. On paper, they don't have a lot in common; Midwest upbringing for Mitchell, the San Francisco art scene for Evan. They both went to the Air Force Academy, but Mitchell was several years ahead of Evan. Cam was football, Evan baseball. Cam is impetuous, Evan likes order and plans.
Evan sets his fork down and rests his hand on the table. A moment later ... a heart-stopping moment later ... Cam's fingers weave through Evan's. He raises their linked hands to his lips. It is a deeper intimacy than what they had done last night, somehow. He leans across the narrow breakfast bar and kisses Evan.
He tastes like coffee and salt. There are a few grains of sugar on his lips that Evan gently sweeps away with his tongue. It's beyond nice. It's warming and tender, promising everything Evan had hoped the night before would have been.
They break apart and Cam is looking as dazed as Evan. "Wow," he says. "That was ... I think I could have some more of that."
Evan is in total agreement. He starts gathering up plates while Cam gets the silverware and mugs. They work together easily, shoulders brushing, a brief press of skin against skin. Evan smiles as Cam kisses the crown of his shoulder then turns him. Cam bends his head, sucks softly at the knob of bone, runs his tongue along Evan's clavicle.
Evan wants to melt. He holds on to Cam's hips, pulls him in tight, feels the hardness of his erection and his own response, faster and more intense than he anticipated. Cam plunges his tongue into Evan's mouth, strokes against his hard palate, sending tingles of arousal through Evan's body.
He's backed up against the counter. He braces himself on his arms and lets Cam have his way. He feels the rasp of Cam's stubble like sandpaper brushing down his chest. In contrast, Cam's lips are soft as he sucks Evan's nipples to hard nubs. His fingers are deft as he opens Evan's jeans and tugs the zipper down. Evan isn't wearing anything under his jeans, and his erection springs free. He feels Cam's smile as his fingers brush over the swollen tip and slick come. He drops to his knees, Evan starts shaking because this is the best thing he's ever felt; Cam's mouth is warm and velvety, his perfect lips are sliding the length of Evan's cock, and he isn't afraid to take Evan deep in his throat until Evan's hands tighten involuntarily on his shoulders warning him of his climax. Cam holds him steady, warm palms against his waist, reassuring him. He comes into Cam's mouth, crying out, shaking apart as Cam milks him until he has nothing left and nothing matters but that Cam stays there, holding him, keeping him from falling.
Cam doesn't let him fall. He guides Evan to the living room. Cam's couch is big, deep. They fall together on it. Evan feels like his every nerve has been lit by fireworks. He opens Cam's jeans, finding that he's gone commando and grins at the discovery. "Sweet," he says and pulls the denim down Cam's long legs. Cam is spread out naked. One leg resting on the floor, the other drawn up. He's open, his cock is erect and flushed against the paler skin of his groin, and nestled in dark swirls of hair.
Evan sees with the eyes of an artist. To his eyes, Cam is masculine perfection. For a moment, his fingers itch to have charcoal in them, capturing Cam's body which even with flaws and scars is the most beautiful thing Evan has ever seen.
"Is something wrong?" Cam asks, breaking the moment.
"Not a damn thing," Evan replies. Suddenly, he can't bear not having his hands on Cam's body, his lips on Cam's lips. He strips off his own jeans and joins Cam on the couch. Their bodies seem to know the alignment, the bones and muscles, the hollows and the tender places.
Cam's frame is big, but he could use more flesh ... as if he's lost weight that he hasn't regained. When Evan kisses him, he tastes the bitter musk of his own semen caught at the corner of Cam's mouth. Their mingled taste is bitter and sweet, nuanced and addictive. It surprises him.
He looks up at Cam. His pupils are so blown with arousal that they nearly eclipse the pale blue of his irises. Evan doesn't know what to do, what Cam wants. Cam's fingers brush through his hair, rest on the nape of his neck. Evan feels the slight pressure and kisses Cam again. He strokes down Cam's throat, kisses the pulse point, sucks on the strong tendons as his fingers trail down the rough hair on Cam's chest. He wants to feel and taste every inch of skin, but Cam is starting to writhe under his touch, his hips arching up against Evan, his cock hard and leaking come.
Evan, to his surprise, is hard again as well. He can't help pressing down into Cam, trapping their cocks, moving and jerking as skin rubbed against sensitive skin, as their semen smears between them. Cam's fingers were gripping Evan's shoulders hard enough to leave bruises, but that pain is so close to pleasure that Evan welcomes it. He bites the skin over the raw knob of Cam's shoulder, feels him draw a sharp breath, even as he tries to reach between them to jerk Evan off. He doesn't need the stimulation. Darkness edges his vision as arousal spirals and knots and curls in his groin.
Cam's eyes widen, his face flushes, his mouth grows slack as every sense turns inward. He climaxes, his semen spurting between them; hot and wet. The heat and release of friction is all Evan needs to follow Cam's ejaculation with his own.
They lie quiet. Sweat cools on their skin, heartbeats slow to normal. Delirious, that's how Evan feels. Like he's had a fever and it's finally slaked and broken. Cam is curled slightly around him, as much as the depth of the couch will allow. His eyes are closed. His mouth now has a happy curve. He looks amazing.
Evan wants more. He wants this. He wants this forever. Forever, after one damn night that had left him fumbling for something ... like trying to find a diamond in the dark.
Cam stirs, opens his eyes; soft and blue as the sky after a spring rain. He grins at Evan. They don't have to talk. Evan imagines he looks as dazed and happy as Cam. They untangle their limbs. When they're upright, they are wrapped up in each other again, heading to the bathroom and the shower; from ecstasy to normalcy, to new beginnings.
The End