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jam_pony_fic2007-09-04 03:22 pm
yourlivewire.livejournal.com) wrote in jam_pony_fic2007-09-04 03:22 pm
Entry tags:
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Title: Making It Work
Prompt: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
syrenslure for the ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
jam_pony_fic summer ficathon. her prompt was Logan/Max - Being intimate with someone else is more than skin against skin. Show me how they cope and make things work. Can be smutty if you wish and your imagination is up to it, but mostly be creative and show how these two care about each other in the ways that they can share.
Rating: Let's go with PG, just to be safe.
Summary: It didn't matter. They could be patient. They'd already waited two and a half years for this, what was a few more days?
Author's Notes: Post-series, taking place in Terminal City a few months after the Jam Pony hostage situation. The situation between transgenics and humans is shaky, but stable for the time being. Max has been acting as an unofficial leader and Logan has stayed to help out.
Sorry for being late on this, I intended to have it up last week but my work schedule wouldn't have it. I hope you like it,syrenslure!
(Also, to avoid confusion, I've changed my username. I used to be enigmaatic.)
Enjoy!
They were in his quarters, on the bed. Max was leaning over his shoulder, close enough but not so close that her hair would brush against his cheek or that he would suddenly hit her if he happened to turn to face her. Her gloved fingertips were working down his shoulders and back, kneading gently wherever she felt an extra spot of tension, and he arched into her touch, closing his eyes.
She kept at it, the pattern moving in slow, erratic circles as they traced over his spine. He could smell her hair, her skin, her breath, and all he wanted to do was turn around and take her in his arms and kiss her, but the cure for the virus was still being worked on and so it couldn't be done at the moment.
Things had been better, since the lab tech had come across Terminal City and given them hope. It had been pure luck, he'd seen the reports on TV and instead of bolting to Canada, he'd come to Terminal City's gates, asking if a doctor was needed.
He'd been one of the good ones, it seemed, even if he had been one of the ones to help construct the virus in the first place.
Max hadn't trusted him, at first, and she still wasn't particularly friendly to him. But Logan pointed out that he had sought out Terminal City wanting to help, and that TC really did need a doctor, not to mention someone who might be able to help reduce the toxicity levels in the water. After that, she'd relented, especially since he'd offered to work on a cure for the retro virus that had plagued them for a little over a year, now.
It had taken a lot of long conversations, with a lot of painful revelations involved that came from both of them. But the end result had been worth it - finding out that both of them still cared, that both of them were willing to try to make it work if the other was.
And that was what had brought them here, with him lying on his stomach on the bed and her with her legs straddling his hips, both having taken special precautions - gloves, layers of clothing, the only bits of skin exposed being their faces and bits of their necks. They were being careful, but they still wanted to express how they felt without words, even if they couldn't so much as kiss or hold hands without the protection of latex.
It didn't matter. They could be patient. They'd already waited two and a half years for this, what was a few more days?
She continued pressing, her touch gentle but firm, and very, very pleasing. He could feel the tension bleed away, he was practically melting beneath her fingertips, and he moaned softly.
"You need to take better care of yourself," she said casually, her voice breaking through the haze of pleasure she was responsible for.
His eyes opened at that, an eyebrow raising, giving her a pointed look that she couldn't see. "Considering the source, that's pretty funny."
She huffed a sigh and he could imagine the rolled-eye look she knew he was giving the back of his head. "Yeah, yeah. Anyway, I'm not the one who spends all his time hunched over a computer screen and spreadin' the word in addition to helping out with Terminal City."
"And I'm not the one who spends all her time running a city and trying to keep the public and the Feds at bay."
"Noted. We're both workaholics and we both need to relax, so let's relax."
"No complaints here," he said with a smile, nestling into the pillow and letting her hands work their magic. And she kept at it, her hands working their way lower and lower, until she reached to the spot just above where his spinal cord had been severed.
She was gentler there, tender, trying not to hurt him. He could sense her discomfort and guilt, guilt she was still feeing after over two years, and he reached a gloved hand behind his back, feeling around until he found one of her hands and drawing his knuckles across the back of it, looking over his shoulder to study her reaction.
She smiled at him, her eyes on his even from a distance. They stayed on his as she scooted back and bent down, brushing her lips over where the scar was, and he could feel her warmth through the thickness of his sweater.
With that, she swung her leg back over him and got off of the bed, standing off to the side as she waited for him to get up. He studied her as she searched the room for a hairbrush and elastic, watching her back as she carefully pulled her hair back, making sure every stray hair was in place.
Max was beautiful, in more than just a physical way, and he smiled as he sat up and watched her at the mirror, watched the care in how she drew her hair into a bun, being careful to get any chance of contamination out of the way while trying to look nice for him at the same time.
She noticed him watching her and smiled at him in the mirror before turning back around. An eyebrow raised, as if to say to him 'you know you have to get off the bed to do this, right?' and he obliged, easing off as she came over to the bed and crawled onto it, somehow still managing to look sexy even while wearing latex, layers of clothing, and a librarian-inspired hairstyle.
She smiled again at him, something a little more wicked and playful, before beginning to lower herself onto the mattress.
"My turn."
Prompt: Written for
syrenslure for the jam_pony_fic summer ficathon. her prompt was Logan/Max - Being intimate with someone else is more than skin against skin. Show me how they cope and make things work. Can be smutty if you wish and your imagination is up to it, but mostly be creative and show how these two care about each other in the ways that they can share.Rating: Let's go with PG, just to be safe.
Summary: It didn't matter. They could be patient. They'd already waited two and a half years for this, what was a few more days?
Author's Notes: Post-series, taking place in Terminal City a few months after the Jam Pony hostage situation. The situation between transgenics and humans is shaky, but stable for the time being. Max has been acting as an unofficial leader and Logan has stayed to help out.
Sorry for being late on this, I intended to have it up last week but my work schedule wouldn't have it. I hope you like it,
syrenslure!(Also, to avoid confusion, I've changed my username. I used to be enigmaatic.)
Enjoy!
They were in his quarters, on the bed. Max was leaning over his shoulder, close enough but not so close that her hair would brush against his cheek or that he would suddenly hit her if he happened to turn to face her. Her gloved fingertips were working down his shoulders and back, kneading gently wherever she felt an extra spot of tension, and he arched into her touch, closing his eyes.
She kept at it, the pattern moving in slow, erratic circles as they traced over his spine. He could smell her hair, her skin, her breath, and all he wanted to do was turn around and take her in his arms and kiss her, but the cure for the virus was still being worked on and so it couldn't be done at the moment.
Things had been better, since the lab tech had come across Terminal City and given them hope. It had been pure luck, he'd seen the reports on TV and instead of bolting to Canada, he'd come to Terminal City's gates, asking if a doctor was needed.
He'd been one of the good ones, it seemed, even if he had been one of the ones to help construct the virus in the first place.
Max hadn't trusted him, at first, and she still wasn't particularly friendly to him. But Logan pointed out that he had sought out Terminal City wanting to help, and that TC really did need a doctor, not to mention someone who might be able to help reduce the toxicity levels in the water. After that, she'd relented, especially since he'd offered to work on a cure for the retro virus that had plagued them for a little over a year, now.
It had taken a lot of long conversations, with a lot of painful revelations involved that came from both of them. But the end result had been worth it - finding out that both of them still cared, that both of them were willing to try to make it work if the other was.
And that was what had brought them here, with him lying on his stomach on the bed and her with her legs straddling his hips, both having taken special precautions - gloves, layers of clothing, the only bits of skin exposed being their faces and bits of their necks. They were being careful, but they still wanted to express how they felt without words, even if they couldn't so much as kiss or hold hands without the protection of latex.
It didn't matter. They could be patient. They'd already waited two and a half years for this, what was a few more days?
She continued pressing, her touch gentle but firm, and very, very pleasing. He could feel the tension bleed away, he was practically melting beneath her fingertips, and he moaned softly.
"You need to take better care of yourself," she said casually, her voice breaking through the haze of pleasure she was responsible for.
His eyes opened at that, an eyebrow raising, giving her a pointed look that she couldn't see. "Considering the source, that's pretty funny."
She huffed a sigh and he could imagine the rolled-eye look she knew he was giving the back of his head. "Yeah, yeah. Anyway, I'm not the one who spends all his time hunched over a computer screen and spreadin' the word in addition to helping out with Terminal City."
"And I'm not the one who spends all her time running a city and trying to keep the public and the Feds at bay."
"Noted. We're both workaholics and we both need to relax, so let's relax."
"No complaints here," he said with a smile, nestling into the pillow and letting her hands work their magic. And she kept at it, her hands working their way lower and lower, until she reached to the spot just above where his spinal cord had been severed.
She was gentler there, tender, trying not to hurt him. He could sense her discomfort and guilt, guilt she was still feeing after over two years, and he reached a gloved hand behind his back, feeling around until he found one of her hands and drawing his knuckles across the back of it, looking over his shoulder to study her reaction.
She smiled at him, her eyes on his even from a distance. They stayed on his as she scooted back and bent down, brushing her lips over where the scar was, and he could feel her warmth through the thickness of his sweater.
With that, she swung her leg back over him and got off of the bed, standing off to the side as she waited for him to get up. He studied her as she searched the room for a hairbrush and elastic, watching her back as she carefully pulled her hair back, making sure every stray hair was in place.
Max was beautiful, in more than just a physical way, and he smiled as he sat up and watched her at the mirror, watched the care in how she drew her hair into a bun, being careful to get any chance of contamination out of the way while trying to look nice for him at the same time.
She noticed him watching her and smiled at him in the mirror before turning back around. An eyebrow raised, as if to say to him 'you know you have to get off the bed to do this, right?' and he obliged, easing off as she came over to the bed and crawled onto it, somehow still managing to look sexy even while wearing latex, layers of clothing, and a librarian-inspired hairstyle.
She smiled again at him, something a little more wicked and playful, before beginning to lower herself onto the mattress.
"My turn."
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This was a great giftfic. Thank you.
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