Title: Costing
Rating: R
Author: SuperherogirlCat
Archive: If you want
Authors notes: Angsty PWP sex in it's purist form. No flames, please. Reviews are super ace, but not required.
"Quick, now, here, now, always
A condition of complete simplicity
(Costing not less than everything)"
-T.S. Eliot
Jack is not supposed to be doing what he's doing, feeling what he's feeling. He has no right, no right to grab the collar of Sam's military-issue jacket, no right to push it down her shoulders, no right to pull her black shirt over her head, to nip at her collarbone, to kiss her mouth, to make her gasp with desire.
Yet he can't help wanting her, needing her as she pressed close to him, her hands grasping, tugging, fumbling with his clothing, taking it off.
And suddenly the regs don't matter because they're both naked and his back is against the wall she wants this, he wants this, and god he can't stop and think now; not when her face is pressed hard into his neck and her breath is hot and her mouth is moist and she's sucking, kissing, biting while her hands are on his chest on his hips on his thighs on his shaft stroking and pressing and God...
It is too much. He groans and pushes her hands away and reverses their positions, reaching between her legs to touch her. She gasps and arches her back.
"God, sir..." She manages, then "Please..." The words are gasped out, strained from her throat, hissed from between clenched teeth, words that dissolve into a groan as his hand continues to work between her thighs.
The honorific reminds him of who he is, what he is doing, but he can't bring himself to care and he doesn't thing she'd let him stop anyway. Not at this point, when her fingernails are raking down his back when she's biting hard enough to leave marks when he's pushing her into the wall and she is wrapping her legs around him and he's sinking into her and there is wet there is heat there is friction just enough to balance him on the edge of release, just enough to make him bite down on her neck, hard, and keep thrusting.
He feels her shudder against him then feels her hand between their bodies, sliding between her own legs.
"Jesus, Carter..." he hisses as she clenches hard around him and -oh, Christ- it's so good it's too much.
He grips her thighs so hard his fingers bruise her. She claws at his back in response while he throws his head back and bites his lip. He can taste blood, smell sex and it makes his head buzz. He inhales sharply; he's losing control now and can't make himself care anymore.
He grinds into her, deeper, harder, faster. He hears her breath quicken. She is so so close, he can see it in her eyes and it heightens his arousal.
He slams her into the wall and then she is curling into him, clenching, gasping, sobbing, moaning, her mouth against his neck.
She's there and he's almost there. He grinds his hipbones into her's, straining.
Two hands rest on either side of his face. They are surprisingly cool against his heated skin. It startles him and he looks up into her eyes and god they're blue. She kisses him without warning and it surprises him and increases his arousal and pushes him over the edge.
He is buried in her and, god, he's collapsing; his knees are weak and he's bracing himself and crashing, falling, crying out, holding her and god how long has he waited for this?
They are coming down now, tangled together. She is still holing on to him, her hands running over his skin, pressing her body to his. She is kissing his neck, her breath is coming in soft gasps and her face is wet with what has to be tears.
"Carter–Sam." He tries to make her look at him, but she pushes his hands away and refuses.
"Don't, sir." She leans back, away from him and won't meet his eyes.
"Sam–" He tries again.
"Please. Don't." Her voice is quiet, a pleading whisper.
So he doesn't do anything, just watches her as she dresses slowly, her uniform covering marks like fingers and teeth and suction on her thighs, her arms, her shoulders, her breasts, her hips.
He wishes he could say something to her, do something that would make this all okay, wishes he could give her more, or take away what they've done. But he doesn't dare do more and he can't turn back time to undo anything and maybe he wouldn't even if he could. Maybe.
But what they have now is far too much and not nearly enough; it will never be anything less than everything and they can't afford to make it anything more than nothing.
She has finished dressing now and is looking at him helplessly like she needs to tell him something important and god he wants (needs) to listen but he doesn't dare hear it and she can't say it because he's cutting her off.
"No, Carter. This can't leave the room and we both know that, okay? Nothing. Happened." He makes his voice sound very final but it breaks his heart. "Let's just leave it like that."
She hesitates and he wants her to disagree with him to say something say anything say no, god, jack/ I love you/stay with me/don't say that/ I need you.
But, hell, this is Carter he's dealing with and in the end she just says "Yes, sir," and leaves.
The slam of the door is the worst sound he's ever heard.
"There can be no peace of mind in love, for what one has attained is never anything more than a starting point for further desires."
fin