Show: General Hospital
Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos'- Chapter 13
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
A/N: As you guys can probably tell, I'm trying valiantly to atone for the sin of not updating for so
long. I think you Liason fans are in for a treat. Just a lil tidbit to keep you guys on your toes;).
Enjoy!
* * *
The docks (12:00 p.m.)
The clock had just struck twelve and Jason had had enough with burning the midnight oil. He'd
had enough of business – legitimate or other wise – for the night. Right now he just needed to
clear his mind, get rid of the banality of number figures and crop predictions. He could take a ride
but in the way his restless body had felt in the past few days, he'd probably just ride straight out
of PC with no regards to anyone. So he chose to walk, the lesser of two evils.
The fresh cold wind that whipped off the river cooled his face and crept slowly through his leather
jacket. It was cold, but he relished it. Slowly he walked along, enjoying the quiet night sounds.
Thinking about nothing… yet everything. About a petite blue-eyed gal who haunted his recent
dreams. A girl who most definitely was *not* blonde.
He found his footsteps carrying him further away from the warehouse, closer to the Elm Street
pier, closer to *her* studio. As if he were a puppet guided by some silent unseen master his
footsteps carried him past the darkened Kelly's diner to her studio. A faint light could be seen
from his vantage point on the sidewalk.
Unbidden he moved closer to the building, silently up the stairs, while his mind screamed at him
for the foolishness of his actions. He came to stand in front of her door, not the least bit alarmed
that Francis was not standing guard. Somehow he had a feeling that, like many times before,
she'd given the bodyguard the slip. Jason knocked softly, staring a little in awe even as his fist
rapped against the wood.
The door swung open even before he'd lowered his hand to his side. Elizabeth stood before him,
her skin pale, her eyes red-rimmed. **She's been crying** he noted. They stared at each other,
neither saying anything.
Staring into his beautiful blue eyes so soon after she'd spent so long crying over him, caused her
heart to constrict painfully. He looked like he didn't know why he was there… she didn't know why
he was their either. It couldn't have been her father… Sonny wouldn't have wanted Jason to know
they had been arguing over him, that he'd fucked over his own daughter.
Suddenly it didn't matter anymore. Something inside her snapped. She stepped forward, invading
his personal space. The heat emanating from his body was amazing. She thought she'd be
consumed. Cobalt met sky. Her eyelids fluttered close before she wrapped her arms around his
neck and dragged his mouth to meet hers.
Their kiss was not tender. It was a meeting of mouths starved for the taste of one another.
Jason's wicked tongue slid along her lips and she opened her mouth, allowing him to deepen the
kiss. Elizabeth moaned and melted against his body as his tongue softly stroked the roof of her
mouth. Jason's hands had settled possessively on her hips and he pulled her body closer to his.
The desire this contact caused exploded in her belly. Never before had she felt this. Never again
would she feel this for any man. No man was Jason Morgan. Roughly she tangled her hands in
his short blonde hair as their lips dueled, battling for control. Jason slowly marched her backward
until he was in her small studio. Elizabeth heard the door slam as if from a million miles away, but
still their kiss continued.
Just as she felt she was about to pass out from lack of oxygen, Jason broke the kiss. Neither
looked up. Her head fell back as Jason ducked his head and feathered kisses on her throat and
neck. The warm pit low in her stomach was spreading throughout her body, clouding her mind,
but utterly and completely awakening her senses.
She was suddenly aware not of how wrong this was, but of how he looked, how he felt, how he
tasted, but more importantly of the fact that he wore too many clothes. Hurriedly, she tried to
divest him of his jacket as his tongue circled the shell of her ear but only succeeded in trapping
the hands that had settled on her flat stomach and were hooking into the tabs of her long denim
skirt.
Jason said nothing, just removed his hands and chucked his jacket off, the leather hitting the floor
with a loud thump. Finally they met each other's eyes. They were a picture – eyes slightly dilated,
panting as though they'd just ran the Boston Marathon. Elizabeth thought he'd come to his
senses, that he'd pick up that jacket from right where he'd dropped it and leave.
Instead Jason swallowed and reached out and dragged her to him again. The spark rekindled. Liz
backed up to the cot she had laid right by the ancient fireplace in the corner. Heavily, they fell
onto it, his weight not crushing her as he held himself off with his hands. Jason flipped them,
bringing Elizabeth to rest in his lap, groaning softly as she did so. They were still fully clothed but
it didn't stop the feeling from being any less intense.
**What the hell am I doing?!** their minds screamed simultaneously. **Shut up!** the mind got
shot down and the body took over.
They couldn't get naked fast enough. Buttons popped and zippers rasped as they hurriedly
undressed each other, each in silent appreciation as every inch of bare skin was revealed. Bare
flesh that even in their history had never been revealed to each other. There was no time for
foreplay… no time to whisper sweet nothings in each other's ears between kisses to damn
scalding to be tender.
There was nothing tender about this… joining. Not this first bonding of Jason and Elizabeth.
There was seemingly not even any love involved in this. Even when his body slid into hers and
she'd buried her face in his sweaty throat. Yet, silently she cried again. For even as his body
moved deeper in hers she wept for what should have been, what would never be.
His eyes never left hers as they moved together – he *couldn't* look away. He could see the
emotions fluttering across her face, saw her face close off as she realized he was watching her.
She gave herself up, gave away to the amazing sensations coursing through her body. *She* did
not look away. She memorized his face, held above her, on arms shaking as he moved. She filed
it away, even as she felt herself begin to let go, as she cried out his name, even as he followed
her into oblivion soon after, her name on his lips as well.
She would remember everything about this moment, his weight over hers as she clasped her
arms and legs about his slick body, their heavy breathing, the dull thud of his heart in her ears,
the delicious ache in her body, this lethargy, this pain…
And so she slept, clinging to him as though he were her lifeline. And so he disentangled himself
from her body. He too had filed away everything about those moments. And so he dressed
silently watching her in slumber…and so he left. And when he asked Francis of her the next day,
apparently, so had she.
TBC…
A/N: Well…? Tell me what you thought. That's it for now. I'm out. !Ciao!
Title: Las Vidas de los Corinthos'- Chapter 13
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
A/N: As you guys can probably tell, I'm trying valiantly to atone for the sin of not updating for so
long. I think you Liason fans are in for a treat. Just a lil tidbit to keep you guys on your toes;).
Enjoy!
* * *
The docks (12:00 p.m.)
The clock had just struck twelve and Jason had had enough with burning the midnight oil. He'd
had enough of business – legitimate or other wise – for the night. Right now he just needed to
clear his mind, get rid of the banality of number figures and crop predictions. He could take a ride
but in the way his restless body had felt in the past few days, he'd probably just ride straight out
of PC with no regards to anyone. So he chose to walk, the lesser of two evils.
The fresh cold wind that whipped off the river cooled his face and crept slowly through his leather
jacket. It was cold, but he relished it. Slowly he walked along, enjoying the quiet night sounds.
Thinking about nothing… yet everything. About a petite blue-eyed gal who haunted his recent
dreams. A girl who most definitely was *not* blonde.
He found his footsteps carrying him further away from the warehouse, closer to the Elm Street
pier, closer to *her* studio. As if he were a puppet guided by some silent unseen master his
footsteps carried him past the darkened Kelly's diner to her studio. A faint light could be seen
from his vantage point on the sidewalk.
Unbidden he moved closer to the building, silently up the stairs, while his mind screamed at him
for the foolishness of his actions. He came to stand in front of her door, not the least bit alarmed
that Francis was not standing guard. Somehow he had a feeling that, like many times before,
she'd given the bodyguard the slip. Jason knocked softly, staring a little in awe even as his fist
rapped against the wood.
The door swung open even before he'd lowered his hand to his side. Elizabeth stood before him,
her skin pale, her eyes red-rimmed. **She's been crying** he noted. They stared at each other,
neither saying anything.
Staring into his beautiful blue eyes so soon after she'd spent so long crying over him, caused her
heart to constrict painfully. He looked like he didn't know why he was there… she didn't know why
he was their either. It couldn't have been her father… Sonny wouldn't have wanted Jason to know
they had been arguing over him, that he'd fucked over his own daughter.
Suddenly it didn't matter anymore. Something inside her snapped. She stepped forward, invading
his personal space. The heat emanating from his body was amazing. She thought she'd be
consumed. Cobalt met sky. Her eyelids fluttered close before she wrapped her arms around his
neck and dragged his mouth to meet hers.
Their kiss was not tender. It was a meeting of mouths starved for the taste of one another.
Jason's wicked tongue slid along her lips and she opened her mouth, allowing him to deepen the
kiss. Elizabeth moaned and melted against his body as his tongue softly stroked the roof of her
mouth. Jason's hands had settled possessively on her hips and he pulled her body closer to his.
The desire this contact caused exploded in her belly. Never before had she felt this. Never again
would she feel this for any man. No man was Jason Morgan. Roughly she tangled her hands in
his short blonde hair as their lips dueled, battling for control. Jason slowly marched her backward
until he was in her small studio. Elizabeth heard the door slam as if from a million miles away, but
still their kiss continued.
Just as she felt she was about to pass out from lack of oxygen, Jason broke the kiss. Neither
looked up. Her head fell back as Jason ducked his head and feathered kisses on her throat and
neck. The warm pit low in her stomach was spreading throughout her body, clouding her mind,
but utterly and completely awakening her senses.
She was suddenly aware not of how wrong this was, but of how he looked, how he felt, how he
tasted, but more importantly of the fact that he wore too many clothes. Hurriedly, she tried to
divest him of his jacket as his tongue circled the shell of her ear but only succeeded in trapping
the hands that had settled on her flat stomach and were hooking into the tabs of her long denim
skirt.
Jason said nothing, just removed his hands and chucked his jacket off, the leather hitting the floor
with a loud thump. Finally they met each other's eyes. They were a picture – eyes slightly dilated,
panting as though they'd just ran the Boston Marathon. Elizabeth thought he'd come to his
senses, that he'd pick up that jacket from right where he'd dropped it and leave.
Instead Jason swallowed and reached out and dragged her to him again. The spark rekindled. Liz
backed up to the cot she had laid right by the ancient fireplace in the corner. Heavily, they fell
onto it, his weight not crushing her as he held himself off with his hands. Jason flipped them,
bringing Elizabeth to rest in his lap, groaning softly as she did so. They were still fully clothed but
it didn't stop the feeling from being any less intense.
**What the hell am I doing?!** their minds screamed simultaneously. **Shut up!** the mind got
shot down and the body took over.
They couldn't get naked fast enough. Buttons popped and zippers rasped as they hurriedly
undressed each other, each in silent appreciation as every inch of bare skin was revealed. Bare
flesh that even in their history had never been revealed to each other. There was no time for
foreplay… no time to whisper sweet nothings in each other's ears between kisses to damn
scalding to be tender.
There was nothing tender about this… joining. Not this first bonding of Jason and Elizabeth.
There was seemingly not even any love involved in this. Even when his body slid into hers and
she'd buried her face in his sweaty throat. Yet, silently she cried again. For even as his body
moved deeper in hers she wept for what should have been, what would never be.
His eyes never left hers as they moved together – he *couldn't* look away. He could see the
emotions fluttering across her face, saw her face close off as she realized he was watching her.
She gave herself up, gave away to the amazing sensations coursing through her body. *She* did
not look away. She memorized his face, held above her, on arms shaking as he moved. She filed
it away, even as she felt herself begin to let go, as she cried out his name, even as he followed
her into oblivion soon after, her name on his lips as well.
She would remember everything about this moment, his weight over hers as she clasped her
arms and legs about his slick body, their heavy breathing, the dull thud of his heart in her ears,
the delicious ache in her body, this lethargy, this pain…
And so she slept, clinging to him as though he were her lifeline. And so he disentangled himself
from her body. He too had filed away everything about those moments. And so he dressed
silently watching her in slumber…and so he left. And when he asked Francis of her the next day,
apparently, so had she.
TBC…
A/N: Well…? Tell me what you thought. That's it for now. I'm out. !Ciao!