FIC: Steam
Mar. 5th, 2010 02:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nilchanceTitle: Steam
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
nilchance
Pairing: Alec (x5-494) / JDM
Rating: Adult
Disclaimer: This isn't real.
A/N: Crossover between RPS and Dark Angel. Written for the JDMmm Mmm Mmm challenge. "Jeff meets a cocky genetically advanced soldier named Alec (aka, Jensen from Dark Angel). Alec might puff himself to seem big and tough, but Jeff knows a wounded kitten when he sees one." Thank you,poisontaster, for the challenge and also providing the title.
The second the heat starts to boil, Alec feels it. He knows it.
If he was on his own for this little adventure, he'd crawl into the woods, find himself a ditch and sweat it out. He's done it before. He can live with a little pain, courtesy of Manticore-- and as much as Max might beg to differ, he's had blue balls before.
The trouble is, he's not alone. And he's not anywhere he can crawl off easily, either, crouched in this lousy abandoned pipeline on his way to Mexico. They're who knows how far underground, a claustrophobia that makes Alec itch. The road to freedom, or all those other pretty words Max used to convince Alec to test this out for her before she'll let anybody she really likes go through, is full of bad smelling pipelines and the occasional vent where Ames fucking White himself could be listening in. Transgenics are too vulnerable to White, to the cops and the government, to simple bigoted rednecks who are sure they'll know a freak when they see one. And sometimes they're even right about that.
Jeff, the dude in charge of this underground railroad (dark hair, dark eyes, too much facial hair and a really poor attitude) turns around and gives Alec a look, one that says he's not in the mood. Alec isn't either, really-- this couldn't happen out in the open? In the light? At least it's just the two of them and he's not about to be gang-raped by a dozen hard-up transgenics half his age.
The next clench of want puts him down on his knees in the muck. The splash makes him wince. Jeff doubles back fast, one hand going to the handle of his heavy flashlight. Alec's not sure if he's about to use it as a light or as a weapon, but he wheezes, "don't. Just keep going."
Jeff lets his hand drop away from the flashlight, instead touching the curved wall so he can lower himself close beside Alec.
Alec flinches. It's only because he doesn't want Jeff touching him and making things worse, it's not that he's scared or anything, but Jeff just leans close enough to pitch his voice too low to be heard above. Too low to be heard by humans, in fact, which raises the late question of what Jeff actually is. "You hurt?"
"No. Keep going, I said."
Jeff raises an eyebrow, then slings off his heavy pack and lowers it to the floor of the pipe and the sluggish flow of something riper than water. "You'd be lost in a minute, kid. Is it tryptophan? You about to seize?"
Their bodies are so close, close enough for Alec to smell the hot skin under Jeff's twenty-some dirty layers of flannel. The sweat that's dried in the warm, secret places of Jeff's body. He smells animal and ripe, and his skin would taste so good under Alec's mouth-- feel so good inside of him--
"I told you to go," he hisses at Jeff, with more volume and less control than he intended. "Am-scray."
"Yeah, that'd be great for return business." Jeff frowns at him. "What's wrong with you?"
"Complicated. Hard to pronounce. You're not leaving, I can smell you, I--" and he swallows the rest, his throat jerking with all the hurt noises that want to come out. His skin is starting to burn for a touch, just one touch, a stinging tight feeling beneath his clothes. He coughs and grabs for the collar of his t-shirt, pulling it away from his throat. "I can't--"
He doesn't hear Jeff leaving. He does hear Jeff leaning closer, and the drag of air as Jeff inhales his scent. It raises all the hair on Alec's skin, like it's straining to pull their bodies together. "What are you?" Jeff murmurs, a throaty growl that makes Alec gasp. "What'd they mix in your cocktail?"
Cock. Tail. Alec rubs his thumb along his own throat, soothing the urge to be grasped there. It doesn't help, like feeding newspaper to a trash-fire that won't go out. "Lady never tells. Rude to ask. You raised in a, in a barn or something?"
"Cat," Jeff says suddenly, with a vicious satisfaction that makes Alec shiver and his nipples pinch up hard under his shirt. "X-5. Didn't know they built heat into their boys."
"Mm. I didn't know, I." Alec swallows convulsively and drags his clawing hand down his body. He manages to stop short of shoving his hand down the front of his pants, but it's a near thing, his fingers digging into his open thigh. "I think it's. Attack. I." Can't think, can't stop the throbbing of his body to be used. To be filled up. He wants cock in his mouth, he wants, he. "Go, you asshole, just go, I've got this!"
Jeff's open palm covers Alec's mouth. Alec makes a strangled noise, his whole body arching towards that contact, and Jeff tells him, "Shh, sweetheart. Shh. Keep it down. If it's an attack, I need to cover our six, okay? You understand?"
Alec's afraid he actually whimpers. But he nods yes, he understands, he can fall back on orders and structure even as he burns alive.
"Good. Good." Jeff's callused thumb strokes down Alec's cheek, his jaw. Alec nnghs, grinding the back of his head against the cement curve of the pipe, and Jeff presses his thumb against the pounding of Alec's pulsepoint. "Open your pants."
Alec curses, relieved and alarmed. Jeff looks back at him; he has a gun in his free hand now. Alec huffs, a substitute for cracking wise, but puts his shaking hand on the button-fly of his pants. He's trembling, but he manages to undo himself. Just that bit of stimulation, oh, he grinds his hips up into the ungiving air. His breathing seems too loud to his own ears.
"Take your cock out," Jeff says, and his voice is as stripped down as the barrel of his gun. When Alec stops to shudder in mindless reaction, like the word itself is as good as touching, Jeff strokes his thumb along the straining vulnerable tendons of Alec's neck. "Go on now, kitten."
"Fuck you," Alec whispers, more disbelieving than angry, but his hand is already reaching down beneath his underwear. The front is already soaked-slippery like he came in his pants, an uneasy mix of humiliation and desire that makes him shove the wet fabric roughly away. He takes his dick in hand, feels it throb hard in his fingers like that much will bring him off. And yet it's an angry frustrating feeling, scraps to something infinitely hungry. "Ngh," he chokes, "oh. Oh fuck. I don't know if this. I need."
"I know." And the kindness in those two words are worse than any orders.
Alec grunts and shoves away from Jeff some, frustrating locking the muscles of his calves and thighs in the need to run-run-run. It physically hurts to move away from Jeff when some fucked up part of his Manticore programming makes him want to rub against Jeff's knees and mouth his cock through this jeans, purr and turn throat and show belly. He isn't that kind of cat, but. Man, something in Jeff's scent...
"Take it out," Jeff tells him. "I want to see you. If we weren't in this gutter, boy, I'd have you stripped down and on your belly. I'd be eating out that tight little ass like a girl."
The dark is good, because Alec's pretty sure that makes even him blush. He shrugs a little but pulls his cock out, balls too, framing them with the cloth of his ruined pants. Jeff looks at him sidelong, up and down like Alec's a porn centerfold Jeff's trying to read in some foxhole, then tracks a sound that rings distantly down the pipeline. In profile, Alec can see Jeff's nostrils flare. Scenting him.
"What are you?" Alec asks, so low he hardly hears himself.
Jeff strokes his thumb along the stock of his pistol, eyes flicking to Alec's face, then shrugs like the question's coiled around his neck. "Jerk yourself off, kitten," he says. "Let me see it."
"Stop being a pushy fuck. I'm not that kind of girl, I--" Alec rubs his own thumb across the slick head of his dick, thinking of Jeff's hand. Feeling the precome pushed from the slit, he shivers. "I don't do being pushed around."
"Ah, good. I was hoping." Jeff smiles. "We make it through this, and I'll try to change your mind."
Alec tries to say something smart, but the heat shudders through him again, and all he can do is groan through his gritted teeth. He can't lose himself here, can't really trust Jeff to cover him (not his unit not his designation not his watch your own back 494) but he feels so empty inside. He feels all the hollow places of his heart pulling deeper and darker, like a star getting ready to go nova. His thighs are shaking from not being able to pull through to release, and it hurts more than it's good.
"Fuck," he whispers, and shoves his hand further back, behind his balls and to the throbbing center of the heat. He's dry and too tense, but he pushes two fingers inside. His ass clutches around them, and he grinds helplessly, cold muck a shock against the back of his thighs as he almost goes down. Convulsively, he grabs his cock and ruts into his hand. "Fuck fuck fuck."
It's training, it's bad, cold metal tables and gloved fingers and pain tolerance tests, and he hates the part of him that sinks, relieved, back into the arms of Mother Manticore. He can hear himself breathing in the dark and holds it, hitching into his own silence, seeing red behind his eyes. He fucks himself hard, punishing, and his chest hurts, and he can't, he's never going to, he's just going to stroke out down here...
Jeff's hand smacks on his chest, a solid thump like resuscitation. Alec breathes in, and all at once, he's there right-fucking-there, and only training keeps him from crying out with relief. Coming is being wrung out, his cock giving one dry lurch in his hand, and he's still hard. The urgency's gone, but it'll be back, it'll keep coming back until he gets some dick or fills some girl's pussy or he just has that stroke for lack of anything working. He thumps back against the curve of the pipe, breathing hard, shaking a little. If his eyes watered, it's nobody's goddamn business but Alec's.
Jeff is rubbing him in small soothing circles. Jeff is watching him. Alec twitches away, though he's only warm in that one lopsided place where Jeff touched him. "Safehouse?" he asks, his voice hoarse, and looks the other way as he slips his fingers out. One of his knuckles snags at his sore hole, and he shudders, the heat stirring and subsiding. He tucks his hard dick back in his pants, trying not to touch it too much.
"Yeah," Jeff says, and offers him a hand up. "C'mon, kid. I'll get you there."
Alec snorts, rolling his shoulders to get the restlessness out, and shrugs his pack back on. He's only a step past Jeff when Jeff's broad fingers snag the strap of his pack and use it to pull Alec back, back against Jeff's lean body.
"I'll get you there," Jeff murmurs, "and then I'll fuck you right."
Alec shudders hard, once, his head ducking to bare throat. Then he scoffs and pushes away from Jeff, walking fast. Trying to get out.
Jeff follows a step behind, like his shadow.
Author:
nilchancePairing: Alec (x5-494) / JDM
Rating: Adult
Disclaimer: This isn't real.
A/N: Crossover between RPS and Dark Angel. Written for the JDMmm Mmm Mmm challenge. "Jeff meets a cocky genetically advanced soldier named Alec (aka, Jensen from Dark Angel). Alec might puff himself to seem big and tough, but Jeff knows a wounded kitten when he sees one." Thank you,
poisontaster, for the challenge and also providing the title. The second the heat starts to boil, Alec feels it. He knows it.
If he was on his own for this little adventure, he'd crawl into the woods, find himself a ditch and sweat it out. He's done it before. He can live with a little pain, courtesy of Manticore-- and as much as Max might beg to differ, he's had blue balls before.
The trouble is, he's not alone. And he's not anywhere he can crawl off easily, either, crouched in this lousy abandoned pipeline on his way to Mexico. They're who knows how far underground, a claustrophobia that makes Alec itch. The road to freedom, or all those other pretty words Max used to convince Alec to test this out for her before she'll let anybody she really likes go through, is full of bad smelling pipelines and the occasional vent where Ames fucking White himself could be listening in. Transgenics are too vulnerable to White, to the cops and the government, to simple bigoted rednecks who are sure they'll know a freak when they see one. And sometimes they're even right about that.
Jeff, the dude in charge of this underground railroad (dark hair, dark eyes, too much facial hair and a really poor attitude) turns around and gives Alec a look, one that says he's not in the mood. Alec isn't either, really-- this couldn't happen out in the open? In the light? At least it's just the two of them and he's not about to be gang-raped by a dozen hard-up transgenics half his age.
The next clench of want puts him down on his knees in the muck. The splash makes him wince. Jeff doubles back fast, one hand going to the handle of his heavy flashlight. Alec's not sure if he's about to use it as a light or as a weapon, but he wheezes, "don't. Just keep going."
Jeff lets his hand drop away from the flashlight, instead touching the curved wall so he can lower himself close beside Alec.
Alec flinches. It's only because he doesn't want Jeff touching him and making things worse, it's not that he's scared or anything, but Jeff just leans close enough to pitch his voice too low to be heard above. Too low to be heard by humans, in fact, which raises the late question of what Jeff actually is. "You hurt?"
"No. Keep going, I said."
Jeff raises an eyebrow, then slings off his heavy pack and lowers it to the floor of the pipe and the sluggish flow of something riper than water. "You'd be lost in a minute, kid. Is it tryptophan? You about to seize?"
Their bodies are so close, close enough for Alec to smell the hot skin under Jeff's twenty-some dirty layers of flannel. The sweat that's dried in the warm, secret places of Jeff's body. He smells animal and ripe, and his skin would taste so good under Alec's mouth-- feel so good inside of him--
"I told you to go," he hisses at Jeff, with more volume and less control than he intended. "Am-scray."
"Yeah, that'd be great for return business." Jeff frowns at him. "What's wrong with you?"
"Complicated. Hard to pronounce. You're not leaving, I can smell you, I--" and he swallows the rest, his throat jerking with all the hurt noises that want to come out. His skin is starting to burn for a touch, just one touch, a stinging tight feeling beneath his clothes. He coughs and grabs for the collar of his t-shirt, pulling it away from his throat. "I can't--"
He doesn't hear Jeff leaving. He does hear Jeff leaning closer, and the drag of air as Jeff inhales his scent. It raises all the hair on Alec's skin, like it's straining to pull their bodies together. "What are you?" Jeff murmurs, a throaty growl that makes Alec gasp. "What'd they mix in your cocktail?"
Cock. Tail. Alec rubs his thumb along his own throat, soothing the urge to be grasped there. It doesn't help, like feeding newspaper to a trash-fire that won't go out. "Lady never tells. Rude to ask. You raised in a, in a barn or something?"
"Cat," Jeff says suddenly, with a vicious satisfaction that makes Alec shiver and his nipples pinch up hard under his shirt. "X-5. Didn't know they built heat into their boys."
"Mm. I didn't know, I." Alec swallows convulsively and drags his clawing hand down his body. He manages to stop short of shoving his hand down the front of his pants, but it's a near thing, his fingers digging into his open thigh. "I think it's. Attack. I." Can't think, can't stop the throbbing of his body to be used. To be filled up. He wants cock in his mouth, he wants, he. "Go, you asshole, just go, I've got this!"
Jeff's open palm covers Alec's mouth. Alec makes a strangled noise, his whole body arching towards that contact, and Jeff tells him, "Shh, sweetheart. Shh. Keep it down. If it's an attack, I need to cover our six, okay? You understand?"
Alec's afraid he actually whimpers. But he nods yes, he understands, he can fall back on orders and structure even as he burns alive.
"Good. Good." Jeff's callused thumb strokes down Alec's cheek, his jaw. Alec nnghs, grinding the back of his head against the cement curve of the pipe, and Jeff presses his thumb against the pounding of Alec's pulsepoint. "Open your pants."
Alec curses, relieved and alarmed. Jeff looks back at him; he has a gun in his free hand now. Alec huffs, a substitute for cracking wise, but puts his shaking hand on the button-fly of his pants. He's trembling, but he manages to undo himself. Just that bit of stimulation, oh, he grinds his hips up into the ungiving air. His breathing seems too loud to his own ears.
"Take your cock out," Jeff says, and his voice is as stripped down as the barrel of his gun. When Alec stops to shudder in mindless reaction, like the word itself is as good as touching, Jeff strokes his thumb along the straining vulnerable tendons of Alec's neck. "Go on now, kitten."
"Fuck you," Alec whispers, more disbelieving than angry, but his hand is already reaching down beneath his underwear. The front is already soaked-slippery like he came in his pants, an uneasy mix of humiliation and desire that makes him shove the wet fabric roughly away. He takes his dick in hand, feels it throb hard in his fingers like that much will bring him off. And yet it's an angry frustrating feeling, scraps to something infinitely hungry. "Ngh," he chokes, "oh. Oh fuck. I don't know if this. I need."
"I know." And the kindness in those two words are worse than any orders.
Alec grunts and shoves away from Jeff some, frustrating locking the muscles of his calves and thighs in the need to run-run-run. It physically hurts to move away from Jeff when some fucked up part of his Manticore programming makes him want to rub against Jeff's knees and mouth his cock through this jeans, purr and turn throat and show belly. He isn't that kind of cat, but. Man, something in Jeff's scent...
"Take it out," Jeff tells him. "I want to see you. If we weren't in this gutter, boy, I'd have you stripped down and on your belly. I'd be eating out that tight little ass like a girl."
The dark is good, because Alec's pretty sure that makes even him blush. He shrugs a little but pulls his cock out, balls too, framing them with the cloth of his ruined pants. Jeff looks at him sidelong, up and down like Alec's a porn centerfold Jeff's trying to read in some foxhole, then tracks a sound that rings distantly down the pipeline. In profile, Alec can see Jeff's nostrils flare. Scenting him.
"What are you?" Alec asks, so low he hardly hears himself.
Jeff strokes his thumb along the stock of his pistol, eyes flicking to Alec's face, then shrugs like the question's coiled around his neck. "Jerk yourself off, kitten," he says. "Let me see it."
"Stop being a pushy fuck. I'm not that kind of girl, I--" Alec rubs his own thumb across the slick head of his dick, thinking of Jeff's hand. Feeling the precome pushed from the slit, he shivers. "I don't do being pushed around."
"Ah, good. I was hoping." Jeff smiles. "We make it through this, and I'll try to change your mind."
Alec tries to say something smart, but the heat shudders through him again, and all he can do is groan through his gritted teeth. He can't lose himself here, can't really trust Jeff to cover him (not his unit not his designation not his watch your own back 494) but he feels so empty inside. He feels all the hollow places of his heart pulling deeper and darker, like a star getting ready to go nova. His thighs are shaking from not being able to pull through to release, and it hurts more than it's good.
"Fuck," he whispers, and shoves his hand further back, behind his balls and to the throbbing center of the heat. He's dry and too tense, but he pushes two fingers inside. His ass clutches around them, and he grinds helplessly, cold muck a shock against the back of his thighs as he almost goes down. Convulsively, he grabs his cock and ruts into his hand. "Fuck fuck fuck."
It's training, it's bad, cold metal tables and gloved fingers and pain tolerance tests, and he hates the part of him that sinks, relieved, back into the arms of Mother Manticore. He can hear himself breathing in the dark and holds it, hitching into his own silence, seeing red behind his eyes. He fucks himself hard, punishing, and his chest hurts, and he can't, he's never going to, he's just going to stroke out down here...
Jeff's hand smacks on his chest, a solid thump like resuscitation. Alec breathes in, and all at once, he's there right-fucking-there, and only training keeps him from crying out with relief. Coming is being wrung out, his cock giving one dry lurch in his hand, and he's still hard. The urgency's gone, but it'll be back, it'll keep coming back until he gets some dick or fills some girl's pussy or he just has that stroke for lack of anything working. He thumps back against the curve of the pipe, breathing hard, shaking a little. If his eyes watered, it's nobody's goddamn business but Alec's.
Jeff is rubbing him in small soothing circles. Jeff is watching him. Alec twitches away, though he's only warm in that one lopsided place where Jeff touched him. "Safehouse?" he asks, his voice hoarse, and looks the other way as he slips his fingers out. One of his knuckles snags at his sore hole, and he shudders, the heat stirring and subsiding. He tucks his hard dick back in his pants, trying not to touch it too much.
"Yeah," Jeff says, and offers him a hand up. "C'mon, kid. I'll get you there."
Alec snorts, rolling his shoulders to get the restlessness out, and shrugs his pack back on. He's only a step past Jeff when Jeff's broad fingers snag the strap of his pack and use it to pull Alec back, back against Jeff's lean body.
"I'll get you there," Jeff murmurs, "and then I'll fuck you right."
Alec shudders hard, once, his head ducking to bare throat. Then he scoffs and pushes away from Jeff, walking fast. Trying to get out.
Jeff follows a step behind, like his shadow.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-03-05 07:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-05 07:54 pm (UTC)Oh and thanks to you I'm writing a friggen epic. Part four and I haven't even gotten to Cas yet.
no subject
Date: 2010-03-05 08:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-05 08:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-05 08:46 pm (UTC)*head splodey*
no subject
Date: 2010-03-05 08:51 pm (UTC)(and I would LOVE to see them going at it till they're limp, in that safehouse)
no subject
Date: 2010-03-05 09:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-05 09:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-05 09:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-05 10:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-05 11:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-05 11:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-06 12:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-06 12:04 am (UTC)Hell, there need to be more in Spn and J2/J3 fics as well.
These need to happen more. Not saying you need to write more (though that would be splendid), but more a statement of what needs to happen in general.
Thank you for this. It is my selfish hope that a similar bunny bites you again soon. Mmmmm Heat-ified!Jensen (in any incarnation).
no subject
Date: 2010-03-06 12:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-06 02:01 am (UTC)*loves*
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Date: 2010-03-06 02:44 am (UTC)*Flutters Lashes*
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Date: 2010-03-06 03:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-06 03:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-06 03:41 am (UTC)Can't talk. Head exploded.
no subject
Date: 2010-03-06 04:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-06 06:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-06 06:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-06 07:21 am (UTC)Great job! I love bottom Jensen!
no subject
Date: 2010-03-06 08:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-06 08:05 am (UTC)Awesomely hot and and hard and desperate.
no subject
Date: 2010-03-06 11:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-06 06:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-08 08:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-08 09:31 pm (UTC)Second, I have recently joined the ranks of lj users, and since I've been lurking on your journal for about half a year, I was wondering if you'd let me friend you? Cause that would be awesome. And the insecure part of me prompts me to say "but I totally understand if you don't because you think I'm a crazy stalker!"
Okay, anyway. Thanks!
no subject
Date: 2010-03-12 01:59 am (UTC)I'd love to read the 'Safehouse' sequel to this...:). xx
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Date: 2010-03-31 06:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-04-26 03:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-04-28 12:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-07 07:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-08 06:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-12 02:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-04-15 10:16 pm (UTC)