repositorian: (my fandom is a total spaz)
Alice Bluebonnet Seeks Johnnie Fedora ([personal profile] repositorian) wrote2013-10-11 11:29 pm
Entry tags:

Fic: Clinical

So, yeah, I wrote--and finished!--a fic for Sanctuary. It's short and there's no real plot, but it came to me and begged to be written before I went back to sleep. Hence my being up at five in the morning. The fic, cut for sexual situations (not smut, though it's a minor miracle):

James was so often clinical with his words; it irritated John beyond belief when he only wanted a straight answer to a question. He, being a lawyer, could at other times appreciate the long and elaborate names for body parts that he himself would never have thought to name, but they'd never even begun crossing the line into sexually arousing until James had decided apparently spontaneously to list everything on John that his lips touched. They'd already indulged more than once in bouts of sticky and warm sex—in their own style, each spooned against the other as close as they could get as they rutted and spent. John had rolled onto his back, James half-on and half-off his side, one hand lazily tracing John's ribs. He raised his head, shifting down on the damp and rapidly cooling sheets, setting his mouth to the edge of John's shoulder and making the man slide his eyes over to watch as well as he could.

“Lateral end, clavicle,” he murmured, laying a thorough, patient kiss to the small dent in his partner's skin where his collarbone met his shoulderblade.

“James, what are you--”

“Shh.” James could shush John, though he was physically bigger and fully capable of completely ignoring the demand, with relative ease, just laying a fingertip to his lips for a moment before his mouth moved in, settling near the middle of his chest and forcing John's head back, tilting towards the headboard and for a moment rolling his eyes and focusing on the stained woodgrain. “Medial end, articulates with menubrium sterni,” he whispered, barely articulating the words. But he kept going, this time moving down, not across. He bit down just enough to get John's full attention, continuing his listing of Latin, “Pectoralis major, anterior and posterior lamina... Rectus abdominis...” James kept going, and much to john's surprise he found his mouth going dry with the words flowing to his ears. The good doctor's tongue was wickedly hot, making delicate licks down the center of his chest as he kept going, hands framing his chest and naming those muscles as well.

“Tendinous inscription above sixth segment of the gladiolus,” he kept going, giving John enough room to wind his hand into James' hair, fingers twisting gently. And James stopped, the tip of his nose barely brushing John's skin, already having driven his breathing up into a rhythmic rise and fall, not quite heaving but certainly aroused. “Hm.” It sounded like he was laughing, the barely-vocal shudders of sound and breath skating across John's belly and being damned arousing.

“Umbilical depression...if only technically.” James nipped at the skin around John's navel, causing his partner's head to tilt up, if only to watch what he was doing. The scar hadn't ever turned back in on itself; there was instead a ridge of flesh, and not a shallow dip in the middle of his belly. James smiled, lips curving against John's skin. “Lovely.”

Lemme know what y'all think, hm?