for sarcasticsra
Jul. 9th, 2005 06:33 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
sharselune.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
mash_slashHeh. Um... yeah.
Title: Midnight Martini
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sharselune
Warnings: Smut. There’s no excuse for it.
Rating: NC-17. And I’m not kidding.
Words: 1,559
Notes: Forsarcasticsra, who requested: “Sidney is in the VIP tent... pleasuring himself... and Hawkeye walks in on him. (Extra cookies if it's right when Sidney's moaning his name!) What happens?”
One could also consider this a sequel tohawkeyesmartini’s Democracy, Freedman, and White Bread considering that it pretty much takes up where that left off.
To be honest, I’ve never written full-blown smut before. I’m a smut virgin, if you will, so be gentle ;)
Tinny sounds of nightfall were seeping in through the seams of the tent, making Sidney more aware than usual that he was sitting in a field in Korea with nothing but the dubious privacy of canvas walls between him and the rest of the world. He had pants that were thicker than these walls. Hell, he had body hair that was thicker than these walls.
No one but an exhibitionist could have any kind of a sex life here, Sidney mused, kicking off his shoes and rubbing tired eyes. The bare bulb hanging from the ceiling sent light cutting through his optical nerves, searing his retinas. Ignoring his bags for the moment, Sidney dropped down into the desk chair and stared at the scarred surface of the desk. He’d been here enough to memorize the scratches in the desk, and even remember making a few. Like that time that Hawkeye had brought him a midnight martini and Sidney had been so distracted that he dropped the glass, gouging a distinctive smile into the wood.
He slid his thumb over the mark and then dropped his cheek down onto the surface, remembering lips and hands and suddenly his pants were too tight. The wood was cool against his face. His hand found the fly of his pants and he unzipped with a sigh, palming hot flesh. The pad of his thumb was rough against his flushed skin and he bit back a moan, flaring his nostrils. His cock hardened in his hand, lengthening against his palm. His fingers curled around the head and the reaction shivered down his spine.
Someone’s footsteps crunched the gravel outside the tent text to his ear. He opened his eyes, staring at the table top and moving his hand down to the base of his shaft, firmly gripping and pulling up with a twist of the wrist. It wrung a groan out of him, this time audible. He closed his eyes again, shifting his hips.
“Nnh.” Chewing on his lower lip, Sidney felt hot slick wetness bubble from the tip of his cock. He rubbed his thumb lightly over the tip, then pulled his fingers apart, stretching a string of precum between his fingers. “H…Hawkeye…”
“Dreaming of me?”
Sidney lifted his head. Hawkeye was standing in the doorway, letting the door shut softly behind him. Sidney could see the trademark grin that hadn’t yet crinkled the corners of his eyes, indicating that perhaps Hawkeye was nervous, maybe even shy. Then Hawkeye’s eyes flicked down to Sidney’s lap and the smile changed to something predatory.
“I thought you weren’t coming,” Sidney said, leaning back in his chair. It creaked and his shirt rode up, letting his cock lay flay against his stomach. He smiled, watching Hawkeye watch him. There was something arousing in seeing how much the surgeon wanted him, this brilliant, passionate, attractive creature that everyone wanted a piece of. Sidney didn’t have to examine the psychological aspects behind his pleasure. Of all the people in the camp, the only one Hawkeye had a regular relationship was Sidney.
Hawkeye came over to the chair and bent down, pressing his lips against Sidney’s neck. “Don’t be silly,” he murmured, his stubble pricking Sidney’s cheek. “I haven’t yet.”
Sidney reached up a hand to touch Hawkeye’s face and Hawkeye took hold of his wrist, closing his lips around the sticky digits and inhaling the salty musk of Sidney’s essence.
“If I’d know you were going to start without me, I would have come by earlier,” Hawkeye said, letting go of Sidney’s fingers. “I didn’t know you were that impatient.”
“I have all night,” Sidney replied, pulling Hawkeye’s face down for a kiss and tasting himself on Hawkeye’s tongue.
Hawkeye smiled against Sidney’s lips. “So do I,” he mumbled, his hand reaching down to Sidney’s cock. Sidney gulped air when Hawkeye’s fingers wrapped around the head and started a long, slow stroke.
Dropping to his knees, Hawkeye pulled Sidney’s cock away from his stomach and planted a kiss on the head, swirling his tongue over the slit. Sidney dropped his head back and looked up at the ceiling, moving his legs farther apart. Hawkeye’s hot mouth moved down the side of his cock, lathing the vein with saliva, moving back up again and then engulfing his whole cock with heat and wetness and pressure, moving down and down and impossibly down until Hawkeye could kiss Sidney’s balls and the head of Sidney’s cock was pressing against the ring of muscles in Hawkeye’s throat and it felt so fucking good that he wasn’t going to last very long at all and
“I want to fuck you,” Sidney hissed into the still air, his hands clenched at his side in some sort of effort to keep himself from succumbing to the sweet honey that was Hawkeye’s mouth. “I want—”
Heat lifted from the base of his cock all the way up, leaving cold air behind. Hawkeye rested his head on Sidney’s knee and rolled his eyes up to look at Sidney, then rose to his feet in one smooth motion. Sidney dazedly watched the slender surgeon’s fingers unbuckle his belt, unzip the pants, slide the waistband down his olive thighs to just above the knee. Hawkeye’s own cock was hard, slender, slightly crooked, like the man himself. Although come to think of it, Hawkeye was more than slightly crooked.
Slinging one leg over Sidney’s lap, Hawkeye sat down on Sidney’s knees, squeezing Sidney’s cock between Hawkeye’s back and his own stomach. Hawkeye tipped back his head and let Sidney kiss the side of his mouth.
Using one hand to brace himself on the edge of Sidney’s chair, Hawkeye lifted up his hips, still resting his head on Sidney’s shoulder. He slid a hand down to grip Sidney’s cock and give it one firm stroke, then continued his hands down his own ass crack to the hard, tight ring of muscle there, his fingers slicked with saliva and precum. Sidney moved his own hand down to help Hawkeye out, wet fingers and bony knuckles intermingling. Hawkeye’s hips jerked involuntarily when Sidney’s finger found the right spot first, sinking in to the knuckle. Hawkeye’s finger soon joined it, hot wet tight and then Hawkeye was sinking down on Sidney’s cock and it was so fucking good.
So fucking good. Sidney pushed up with his hips, meeting Hawkeye, who closed his eyes and pressed the crown of his head back hard against Sidney’s shoulder. They made a jerky rhythm, Hawkeye pushing down with a twist, Sidney thrusting up.
Hawkeye’s breath came hard and fast. He always had the habit of holding it during sex, and it gave Sidney a certain pleasure to force the breath out of him. He wrapped his arms around Hawkeye’s stomach, closing both hands around Hawkeye’s cock. Hawkeye pumped up greedily and Sidney pulled him back down hard. Hawkeye reached back to grab Sidney’s hip, squeezing.
Sidney’s movement was gaining urgency. He pushed Hawkeye up against the desk, pressing the edge of the desk surface into Hawkeye’s stomach. His forceful thrusts made the desk scrape the floor rhythmically, an even bump bump bump that made a set of footsteps pause outside before continuing. He didn’t care. He pushed Hawkeye forward and pressed his forehead into the dip between Hawkeye’s shoulder blades, squeezing his eyes shut. The chair squeaked frantically.
Somewhere beyond their own sex sounds and the more distant sounds of the camp came an unmistakable shudder in the sky, a soft thup thup that the two men would know anywhere.
“Shit,” Hawkeye hissed. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.” He clamped his hand down over Sidney’s on his cock to help him along. “Oh, shit.”
The speaker outside Sidney’s tent crackled to life. “Incoming wounded. This one’s going to be an all nighter, folks.”
“Not yet, dammit,” Hawkeye hissed.
“Not yet,” Sidney agreed. He pushed his chair back and stood up, pressing Hawkeye down flat over the desk to get more leverage. He heard Hawkeye’s breath hitch and suddenly hotness was spilling over his fist. It only took him three more strokes before he felt himself release. He lay down on Hawkeye’s back, resting his cheek on Hawkeye’s neck.
“Don’t worry,” he whispered. “I won’t get mad if you don’t have time to cuddle.”
Hawkeye pressed his hands onto the desk and pushed himself up with a groan. Sidney helped Hawkeye with his pants.
“I’ll be waiting for you,” Sidney said, buckling up his own pants.
“I might need you in the OR,” Hawkeye replied with an apologetic grin. The two of them shared a brief, embarrassed look.
“Sorry, Hawkeye, that’s a little too public for me.”
This brought the laugh from Hawkeye that Sidney had been hoping for. “See you,” he said, then paused.
Sidney gave him a wry grin and then stepped forward. He kissed Hawkeye on the cheek.
“I’ll be in to help in a little while. Don’t work yourself too hard.”
Hawkeye sighed, smiled, and then pushed the door open. “Bye,” he said, stepping out into the camp to join the throngs running towards the OR. Sidney hooked his hands in his pockets and watched until the door banged shut, then looked back at the desk, where fresh fingernail marks now marred the wood. Then he turned to his bags and started to unpack.
Title: Midnight Martini
Author:
sharseluneWarnings: Smut. There’s no excuse for it.
Rating: NC-17. And I’m not kidding.
Words: 1,559
Notes: For
sarcasticsra, who requested: “Sidney is in the VIP tent... pleasuring himself... and Hawkeye walks in on him. (Extra cookies if it's right when Sidney's moaning his name!) What happens?”One could also consider this a sequel to
hawkeyesmartini’s Democracy, Freedman, and White Bread considering that it pretty much takes up where that left off.To be honest, I’ve never written full-blown smut before. I’m a smut virgin, if you will, so be gentle ;)
Tinny sounds of nightfall were seeping in through the seams of the tent, making Sidney more aware than usual that he was sitting in a field in Korea with nothing but the dubious privacy of canvas walls between him and the rest of the world. He had pants that were thicker than these walls. Hell, he had body hair that was thicker than these walls.
No one but an exhibitionist could have any kind of a sex life here, Sidney mused, kicking off his shoes and rubbing tired eyes. The bare bulb hanging from the ceiling sent light cutting through his optical nerves, searing his retinas. Ignoring his bags for the moment, Sidney dropped down into the desk chair and stared at the scarred surface of the desk. He’d been here enough to memorize the scratches in the desk, and even remember making a few. Like that time that Hawkeye had brought him a midnight martini and Sidney had been so distracted that he dropped the glass, gouging a distinctive smile into the wood.
He slid his thumb over the mark and then dropped his cheek down onto the surface, remembering lips and hands and suddenly his pants were too tight. The wood was cool against his face. His hand found the fly of his pants and he unzipped with a sigh, palming hot flesh. The pad of his thumb was rough against his flushed skin and he bit back a moan, flaring his nostrils. His cock hardened in his hand, lengthening against his palm. His fingers curled around the head and the reaction shivered down his spine.
Someone’s footsteps crunched the gravel outside the tent text to his ear. He opened his eyes, staring at the table top and moving his hand down to the base of his shaft, firmly gripping and pulling up with a twist of the wrist. It wrung a groan out of him, this time audible. He closed his eyes again, shifting his hips.
“Nnh.” Chewing on his lower lip, Sidney felt hot slick wetness bubble from the tip of his cock. He rubbed his thumb lightly over the tip, then pulled his fingers apart, stretching a string of precum between his fingers. “H…Hawkeye…”
“Dreaming of me?”
Sidney lifted his head. Hawkeye was standing in the doorway, letting the door shut softly behind him. Sidney could see the trademark grin that hadn’t yet crinkled the corners of his eyes, indicating that perhaps Hawkeye was nervous, maybe even shy. Then Hawkeye’s eyes flicked down to Sidney’s lap and the smile changed to something predatory.
“I thought you weren’t coming,” Sidney said, leaning back in his chair. It creaked and his shirt rode up, letting his cock lay flay against his stomach. He smiled, watching Hawkeye watch him. There was something arousing in seeing how much the surgeon wanted him, this brilliant, passionate, attractive creature that everyone wanted a piece of. Sidney didn’t have to examine the psychological aspects behind his pleasure. Of all the people in the camp, the only one Hawkeye had a regular relationship was Sidney.
Hawkeye came over to the chair and bent down, pressing his lips against Sidney’s neck. “Don’t be silly,” he murmured, his stubble pricking Sidney’s cheek. “I haven’t yet.”
Sidney reached up a hand to touch Hawkeye’s face and Hawkeye took hold of his wrist, closing his lips around the sticky digits and inhaling the salty musk of Sidney’s essence.
“If I’d know you were going to start without me, I would have come by earlier,” Hawkeye said, letting go of Sidney’s fingers. “I didn’t know you were that impatient.”
“I have all night,” Sidney replied, pulling Hawkeye’s face down for a kiss and tasting himself on Hawkeye’s tongue.
Hawkeye smiled against Sidney’s lips. “So do I,” he mumbled, his hand reaching down to Sidney’s cock. Sidney gulped air when Hawkeye’s fingers wrapped around the head and started a long, slow stroke.
Dropping to his knees, Hawkeye pulled Sidney’s cock away from his stomach and planted a kiss on the head, swirling his tongue over the slit. Sidney dropped his head back and looked up at the ceiling, moving his legs farther apart. Hawkeye’s hot mouth moved down the side of his cock, lathing the vein with saliva, moving back up again and then engulfing his whole cock with heat and wetness and pressure, moving down and down and impossibly down until Hawkeye could kiss Sidney’s balls and the head of Sidney’s cock was pressing against the ring of muscles in Hawkeye’s throat and it felt so fucking good that he wasn’t going to last very long at all and
“I want to fuck you,” Sidney hissed into the still air, his hands clenched at his side in some sort of effort to keep himself from succumbing to the sweet honey that was Hawkeye’s mouth. “I want—”
Heat lifted from the base of his cock all the way up, leaving cold air behind. Hawkeye rested his head on Sidney’s knee and rolled his eyes up to look at Sidney, then rose to his feet in one smooth motion. Sidney dazedly watched the slender surgeon’s fingers unbuckle his belt, unzip the pants, slide the waistband down his olive thighs to just above the knee. Hawkeye’s own cock was hard, slender, slightly crooked, like the man himself. Although come to think of it, Hawkeye was more than slightly crooked.
Slinging one leg over Sidney’s lap, Hawkeye sat down on Sidney’s knees, squeezing Sidney’s cock between Hawkeye’s back and his own stomach. Hawkeye tipped back his head and let Sidney kiss the side of his mouth.
Using one hand to brace himself on the edge of Sidney’s chair, Hawkeye lifted up his hips, still resting his head on Sidney’s shoulder. He slid a hand down to grip Sidney’s cock and give it one firm stroke, then continued his hands down his own ass crack to the hard, tight ring of muscle there, his fingers slicked with saliva and precum. Sidney moved his own hand down to help Hawkeye out, wet fingers and bony knuckles intermingling. Hawkeye’s hips jerked involuntarily when Sidney’s finger found the right spot first, sinking in to the knuckle. Hawkeye’s finger soon joined it, hot wet tight and then Hawkeye was sinking down on Sidney’s cock and it was so fucking good.
So fucking good. Sidney pushed up with his hips, meeting Hawkeye, who closed his eyes and pressed the crown of his head back hard against Sidney’s shoulder. They made a jerky rhythm, Hawkeye pushing down with a twist, Sidney thrusting up.
Hawkeye’s breath came hard and fast. He always had the habit of holding it during sex, and it gave Sidney a certain pleasure to force the breath out of him. He wrapped his arms around Hawkeye’s stomach, closing both hands around Hawkeye’s cock. Hawkeye pumped up greedily and Sidney pulled him back down hard. Hawkeye reached back to grab Sidney’s hip, squeezing.
Sidney’s movement was gaining urgency. He pushed Hawkeye up against the desk, pressing the edge of the desk surface into Hawkeye’s stomach. His forceful thrusts made the desk scrape the floor rhythmically, an even bump bump bump that made a set of footsteps pause outside before continuing. He didn’t care. He pushed Hawkeye forward and pressed his forehead into the dip between Hawkeye’s shoulder blades, squeezing his eyes shut. The chair squeaked frantically.
Somewhere beyond their own sex sounds and the more distant sounds of the camp came an unmistakable shudder in the sky, a soft thup thup that the two men would know anywhere.
“Shit,” Hawkeye hissed. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.” He clamped his hand down over Sidney’s on his cock to help him along. “Oh, shit.”
The speaker outside Sidney’s tent crackled to life. “Incoming wounded. This one’s going to be an all nighter, folks.”
“Not yet, dammit,” Hawkeye hissed.
“Not yet,” Sidney agreed. He pushed his chair back and stood up, pressing Hawkeye down flat over the desk to get more leverage. He heard Hawkeye’s breath hitch and suddenly hotness was spilling over his fist. It only took him three more strokes before he felt himself release. He lay down on Hawkeye’s back, resting his cheek on Hawkeye’s neck.
“Don’t worry,” he whispered. “I won’t get mad if you don’t have time to cuddle.”
Hawkeye pressed his hands onto the desk and pushed himself up with a groan. Sidney helped Hawkeye with his pants.
“I’ll be waiting for you,” Sidney said, buckling up his own pants.
“I might need you in the OR,” Hawkeye replied with an apologetic grin. The two of them shared a brief, embarrassed look.
“Sorry, Hawkeye, that’s a little too public for me.”
This brought the laugh from Hawkeye that Sidney had been hoping for. “See you,” he said, then paused.
Sidney gave him a wry grin and then stepped forward. He kissed Hawkeye on the cheek.
“I’ll be in to help in a little while. Don’t work yourself too hard.”
Hawkeye sighed, smiled, and then pushed the door open. “Bye,” he said, stepping out into the camp to join the throngs running towards the OR. Sidney hooked his hands in his pockets and watched until the door banged shut, then looked back at the desk, where fresh fingernail marks now marred the wood. Then he turned to his bags and started to unpack.
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