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Jul. 28th, 2008 10:09 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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escapingrealityTitle: All About Sam
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rolleson
Fandom: SG1
Rating: R
Character/Pairing: Sam/Daniel
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Sex.
Summery: A ritual.
Notes: For the drabble-a-thon. 380 words.
What Sam considered as routine, Daniel considered a ritual.
Once a week, his lips on her, his hand wrapping around her waist, slipping under whatever top she was wearing to stroke the skin at the small of her back.
No matter where they were, no matter what wall they were stood against, his hands always started their journey the same way, the same smooth, slow movements over her skin.
He was right, of course, routine made it sound so boring, these moments that weren't dull or usual, the way her heart raced as his hands wandered her body, goosebumps rose, a trail of raised hair and skin following his fingertips. It was a ritual that built her up, wound her up, until all she wanted to do was spin them around, slam him against a wall, a floor, anything and have him fuck her.
Not that she ever felt she could do that with Daniel, he was so quiet and restrained when they were together, but she wanted it, wanted him.
This was always about her. Always. She'd realised that the first time, from the moment their lips met, to the moment she screamed beneath him, or on top of him, around him, it was all about her. Their little routine, their little ritual, stroking, soft skin, sweat and sex. The way he whispered her name when she came, held on until she came, held himself back as she let go.
And she wanted it to be about him, wanted to do something for him, but he never let her. She was scared that, if she did, if she got on her knees for him, he'd leave her bed, her home, leave her and not come back.
She held onto this as if it were the only way to hold onto their friendship. Once a week, no matter when or where, as long as it was him, them, this slow movement of his hands over her back and around her waist, his lips on her neck. She'd lost him too many times to risk ever doing anything for him, unless he asked for it and she wondered what this was for him, what made her so special for Daniel to only care about her. What did this ritual bring him?
Author:
rollesonFandom: SG1
Rating: R
Character/Pairing: Sam/Daniel
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Sex.
Summery: A ritual.
Notes: For the drabble-a-thon. 380 words.
What Sam considered as routine, Daniel considered a ritual.
Once a week, his lips on her, his hand wrapping around her waist, slipping under whatever top she was wearing to stroke the skin at the small of her back.
No matter where they were, no matter what wall they were stood against, his hands always started their journey the same way, the same smooth, slow movements over her skin.
He was right, of course, routine made it sound so boring, these moments that weren't dull or usual, the way her heart raced as his hands wandered her body, goosebumps rose, a trail of raised hair and skin following his fingertips. It was a ritual that built her up, wound her up, until all she wanted to do was spin them around, slam him against a wall, a floor, anything and have him fuck her.
Not that she ever felt she could do that with Daniel, he was so quiet and restrained when they were together, but she wanted it, wanted him.
This was always about her. Always. She'd realised that the first time, from the moment their lips met, to the moment she screamed beneath him, or on top of him, around him, it was all about her. Their little routine, their little ritual, stroking, soft skin, sweat and sex. The way he whispered her name when she came, held on until she came, held himself back as she let go.
And she wanted it to be about him, wanted to do something for him, but he never let her. She was scared that, if she did, if she got on her knees for him, he'd leave her bed, her home, leave her and not come back.
She held onto this as if it were the only way to hold onto their friendship. Once a week, no matter when or where, as long as it was him, them, this slow movement of his hands over her back and around her waist, his lips on her neck. She'd lost him too many times to risk ever doing anything for him, unless he asked for it and she wondered what this was for him, what made her so special for Daniel to only care about her. What did this ritual bring him?
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