mayqueen517 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mayqueen517) wrote2011-01-21 05:42 pm
mayqueen517) wrote2011-01-21 05:42 pm
Fic: Chasing Off The Days (Tom Conrad/Sean Van Vleet) (NC-17)
I wrote this for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
no_tags 2011! (Also posted here)
Title: Chasing Off The Days
Pairing/Prompt: #53: Tom/Sean - Snow day
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: None
Word Count: 2,171
Notes: Many thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
hector_rashbaum who looked it over for me and told me to stfu and write. ♥
(Title comes from Panic! At The Disco's 'Northern Downpour')
Tom hates snow.
"I fucking hate snow," Tom says to Sean as Tom comes in from work. His head hurts and he hasn't eaten all day and most of all, he hates snow. Sean makes an amused noise from where he's scribbling in his notebook, having heard this before, used to it. Tom hangs his scarf up, grimacing as he toes his shoes off, feeling the cold and wet slush soak through his socks.
"You could always move," Sean says, like always, and Tom snorts, flipping him off as Sean laughs distractedly. Tom likes watching Sean when he's like this, when he's focused on one thing, like if he doesn't get the words out of his brain and onto paper, he's going to explode.
"Eh, cheating," Tom says, walking into the kitchen before sighing. He's tired, like he spent three days at work instead of just one. The snow's coming down harder as he looks out the window. He hates being in the snow, but he likes watching it. He hears Sean toss his notebook onto the table before he listens to Sean pull himself up with a groan.
Tom checks the clock, smiling to himself as he opens the fridge, looking in it, like something is going to suddenly be appealing. Sean pads into the kitchen, stretching and Tom can hear his back pop as Sean pokes his head over Tom's shoulder, peering into the fridge with him.
"Pizza?"
"You order while I grab a shower?"
"Sounds good," Sean says, yawning into Tom's ear, laughing when Tom nudges him back. Tom laughs, finally feeling like he can relax and like he can settle into being at home for a few days and not have to go out into the snow.
Later, showered and warm, eating pizza with Sean, Tom finds himself watching Sean eat. Sean ignores him, like he always ignores Tom watching or taking pictures or whatever else it is that Nick calls him 'fucking creepy' for doing. Tom likes that about Sean.
"How was work?" Sean asks finally as they both eye the last piece of pizza and each other. Tom shrugs, scrubbing a hand through his hair as he yawns widely, groaning. He waves his hand at the pizza and watches Sean pick it up and start eating. He closes his eyes, smiling a little.
"Decent enough, I guess. New kid's there. He's dumb as a fucking brick, I swear to God, dude," Tom says, hearing Sean laugh. Tom cracks his eyes open, watching Sean toss the crust down into the box before he settles back into his chair, groaning happily. Tom watches him tilt his head back, the column of his neck making Tom want to pull Sean over, to taste the skin there.
"That good, huh?" Sean asks, laughing as he looks back at Tom. Tom wonders what shows on his face because Sean grins at him, slow and pleased.
"Don't look so smug, asshole," Tom says, as he scratches his chest idly.
"Hey, not my fault you're just now picking up on my signals."
"They weren't good signals, I guess," Tom says trying not to laugh. Sean laughs as he gets up from the chair, sweats falling before he hikes them back up. There's a sliver of skin between his shirt and his pants that Tom focuses on for a moment. Sean looks loose and happy, relaxed as Tom shifts, making room for him. Tom likes watching Sean fold himself onto the couch, sitting like he's ready to stand up for anything at a moment's notice.
"Whatever, they were awesome signals," Sean says, as Tom rolls his eyes, kissing Sean easily. Sean sighs into it and Tom smiles against his lips, opening his eyes just enough to be able to watch Sean's face as they kiss.
Signals or not, Tom's pretty glad Sean doesn't care that Tom misses them. They kiss like that, lazy and warm on the couch until Tom loses track of anything that isn't the rasp of Sean's stubble against his own or the slide of Sean's lips.
Tom leans back into the couch further, pulling Sean with him, kissing him harder. Sean shifts, rocking down into him slowly as Tom pulls back just enough to breathe, feeling Sean's breath mingling with his own. Sean opens his eyes, meeting Tom's as he smiles slowly.
"They were kind of shitty signals, dude," Tom says against his lips, as Sean laughs, throwing his head back. Sean shakes his head, shifting over until he's in Tom's lap, grinning as Tom returns it. Tom always feels lighter around Sean, like he can stop worrying or stop wondering about things. He doesn't know if he's tricking himself or if he relies on Sean to make him feel better, but he doesn't think it matters.
They kiss until Sean's laying on top of Tom, heavy but not uncomfortable as Tom slides his hands down to Sean's hips. He pulls him down further, grinding their hips together as best he can. Sean pulls back from the kiss, breathing hard and lips swollen and it's all Tom can focus on, all he can think about as he leans up. He bites at Sean's neck, hearing him gasp softly.
"Bed, come on," Sean says, breathing hard and grinning as Tom laugh softly. They kiss again and Tom pulls Sean back down with him. They rut against each other like that, pushing against each other in the sweats and laughing when they get tangled. Finally, Tom relents and pulls back.
"Fine, bed," he says, watching Sean get up, missing the weight of Sean caging him in and down on the couch. They walk to the bedroom like they're saying goodnight, like they weren't just making out furiously on the couch. It comforts Tom, in a way, that things don't change between them. That whatever they are or do, it doesn't change them.
Once in the bedroom, Tom can't help but laugh at the way they both hurry to pull their clothes off. It doesn't surprise Tom that both of them nearly fall and break their stupid fucking necks because of their sweatpants. It happens every single time and it never stops being funny, but Tom likes that. Tom likes the easy laughter and the way it makes the tight worry deep in his stomach untangle and settle.
Naked, he pulls Sean to him, kissing him hard as they lay back on the bed. Sean's dick presses against his and Tom shudders, groaning into the kiss as Sean grins against his lips. They kiss, sloppy and hurried as Sean thrusts against him, both unable to help the moans that fill the room.
"In me," Sean mumbles against Tom's lips, pressing against him. Tom groans at the thought, at fucking Sean, lazy and slow on the bed while it snows outside. He kisses Sean harder, feeling Sean's fingers tighten on his shoulders.
Tom pulls back to nod, breathing hard as he watches Sean. They stare at each other before Sean reaches over and digs in the table beside of them, coming up with a condom and lube. Something rolls in Tom's stomach, making him kiss Sean again, reveling in feeling Sean's stubble scrape over his own as they pull back.
He preps Sean quickly, letting Sean direct him with breathless gasps and deep groans as he curls his fingers. Sean bites at the junction between his neck and shoulder when Tom adds a third finger, arching against him and Tom pulls back, groaning.
"Now," Sean says, eyes dark and lips swollen and Tom spares a thought for his camera in his bag, wanting a picture of his lips. He pushes the thought away, rolling the condom on and slicking himself up, groaning thickly as he concentrates on not coming.
He pulls Sean on top of him, feeling the tension in Sean's body, in his own, as he pushes into Sean. Tom groans, feeling Sean echo it. They kiss hard, arching together as Tom loses himself in feeling Sean move against him. He can feel heat flooding his chest and stomach, coiling along his spine as Sean pulls back, gasping.
Tom thrusts against him, clutching his hips and feeling his fingers dig into the skin there, not caring. Sean shudders hard, reaching down to stroke himself fast and hard, hips grinding down against Tom. Tom watches him, unable to stop watching as he stiffens, shaking hard with a choked off groan.
He comes into his own hand and Tom moans loudly, arching up as he follows Sean, coming with a gasp. He feels like his lungs are being dragged out of him as he shudders hard, shaking and feeling wrung out before they collapse against each other.
Breathing hard, Sean kisses him lightly, resting their foreheads together as Tom tries to catch his breath. They stay like that, suddenly quiet, but Tom doesn't mind it, he doesn't mind the sweat that clings to the two of them, cold and now clammy. He pulls back carefully, easing out of Sean.
Tying the condom off, he tosses it into the wastebasket that's probably been sitting in Sean's room for way longer than either of them know. Sean settles down beside of him, yawning as he makes a soft sound in the middle. Tom laughs as he tugs the blankets up.
"Not gonna freak out this time, right?"
"Oh my god, one time," Tom says, throwing his hands up as Sean laughs. Tom laughs with him, leaning down to kiss him again, settling down with a yawn.
"Wonder if it's still snowing," Sean says after a few minutes. They don't curl up together, but Tom likes tangling their legs together, like any other time and place, and Tom shrugs.
"Dunno. But I'm sleeping here tonight."
"Of course," Sean says, shifting around so they both have blankets and pillow as Tom drifts off.
Tom wakes up with Sean draped all over him and half of the covers pooled onto the floor. He shivers as he pulls the covers back over them, settling down sleepily. He closes his eyes, feeling Sean roll over as Tom drowses in and out of sleep. He likes waking up in bed with Sean, even if he hogs all the space.
Sean shifts, and Tom opens his eyes, watching him stretch. He likes watching Sean wake up (to be fair, he likes watching Sean all the time), likes the way he pushes himself up and off the bed before falling back. Sean looks at him, giving him a sleepy smile.
"Morning," Sean says, yawning as he squirms back under the covers. Tom feels the low, phantom ache of Sean's hands on his hips and he wants to lift the covers up, see if there are bruises. Instead, he mumbles something back to Sean, pulling the covers higher. Sean laughs, voice still slick with sleep and lazy.
Tom watches him for a moment before reaching out to rub his thumb over the now purple bite mark on Sean's neck. Sean hums sleepily, pleased, as Tom presses lightly. He likes touching Sean, likes the way that Sean leans into it, meeting his eyes.
He slides his hand along Sean's chest, feeling the bare, warm skin under his fingers as he finds another bite mark. This one, high on his ribs, makes Tom huff out a soft breath of laughter as Sean bats at his hand, laughing softly. Tom hums softly, almost to himself, happily. He taps out a light run of notes on Sean's chest, grinning when Sean echoes them on Tom's arm.
"Morning," Tom says finally.
"Still snowing?" Sean asks as Tom shrugs. Sean shifts around, draping his legs over Tom's as he props himself against the wall and his pillow.
"Don't know, don't care, dude."
"Why do you hate snow? That's like hating Christmas," Sean says, making Tom laugh. Tom shrugs, yawning before he shifts his head on his pillow, watching Sean.
"Hate being cold and wet. Snow is, like, the worst of all that."
"You are so fucking weird, Tomrad," Sean says, fondly. He rubs one of his feet over Tom's calves idly, curling his toes as Tom snorts, shoving his leg at the foot as Sean grins. They settle down, Sean grabbing one of the four notebooks he's got scattered around the apartment (Tom's never seen anyone hoard notebooks the way Sean does) to show some lyrics to Tom.
Tom looks over them and he can hear guitar around them, can hear Max and him working together over Ryan and Al. It makes Tom smile and he feels grateful for what his life is now. When he looks over at Sean, seeing him smiling back, Tom thinks that maybe the others are just as grateful.
no_tags 2011! (Also posted here)Title: Chasing Off The Days
Pairing/Prompt: #53: Tom/Sean - Snow day
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: None
Word Count: 2,171
Notes: Many thanks to
hector_rashbaum who looked it over for me and told me to stfu and write. ♥(Title comes from Panic! At The Disco's 'Northern Downpour')
Tom hates snow.
"I fucking hate snow," Tom says to Sean as Tom comes in from work. His head hurts and he hasn't eaten all day and most of all, he hates snow. Sean makes an amused noise from where he's scribbling in his notebook, having heard this before, used to it. Tom hangs his scarf up, grimacing as he toes his shoes off, feeling the cold and wet slush soak through his socks.
"You could always move," Sean says, like always, and Tom snorts, flipping him off as Sean laughs distractedly. Tom likes watching Sean when he's like this, when he's focused on one thing, like if he doesn't get the words out of his brain and onto paper, he's going to explode.
"Eh, cheating," Tom says, walking into the kitchen before sighing. He's tired, like he spent three days at work instead of just one. The snow's coming down harder as he looks out the window. He hates being in the snow, but he likes watching it. He hears Sean toss his notebook onto the table before he listens to Sean pull himself up with a groan.
Tom checks the clock, smiling to himself as he opens the fridge, looking in it, like something is going to suddenly be appealing. Sean pads into the kitchen, stretching and Tom can hear his back pop as Sean pokes his head over Tom's shoulder, peering into the fridge with him.
"Pizza?"
"You order while I grab a shower?"
"Sounds good," Sean says, yawning into Tom's ear, laughing when Tom nudges him back. Tom laughs, finally feeling like he can relax and like he can settle into being at home for a few days and not have to go out into the snow.
Later, showered and warm, eating pizza with Sean, Tom finds himself watching Sean eat. Sean ignores him, like he always ignores Tom watching or taking pictures or whatever else it is that Nick calls him 'fucking creepy' for doing. Tom likes that about Sean.
"How was work?" Sean asks finally as they both eye the last piece of pizza and each other. Tom shrugs, scrubbing a hand through his hair as he yawns widely, groaning. He waves his hand at the pizza and watches Sean pick it up and start eating. He closes his eyes, smiling a little.
"Decent enough, I guess. New kid's there. He's dumb as a fucking brick, I swear to God, dude," Tom says, hearing Sean laugh. Tom cracks his eyes open, watching Sean toss the crust down into the box before he settles back into his chair, groaning happily. Tom watches him tilt his head back, the column of his neck making Tom want to pull Sean over, to taste the skin there.
"That good, huh?" Sean asks, laughing as he looks back at Tom. Tom wonders what shows on his face because Sean grins at him, slow and pleased.
"Don't look so smug, asshole," Tom says, as he scratches his chest idly.
"Hey, not my fault you're just now picking up on my signals."
"They weren't good signals, I guess," Tom says trying not to laugh. Sean laughs as he gets up from the chair, sweats falling before he hikes them back up. There's a sliver of skin between his shirt and his pants that Tom focuses on for a moment. Sean looks loose and happy, relaxed as Tom shifts, making room for him. Tom likes watching Sean fold himself onto the couch, sitting like he's ready to stand up for anything at a moment's notice.
"Whatever, they were awesome signals," Sean says, as Tom rolls his eyes, kissing Sean easily. Sean sighs into it and Tom smiles against his lips, opening his eyes just enough to be able to watch Sean's face as they kiss.
Signals or not, Tom's pretty glad Sean doesn't care that Tom misses them. They kiss like that, lazy and warm on the couch until Tom loses track of anything that isn't the rasp of Sean's stubble against his own or the slide of Sean's lips.
Tom leans back into the couch further, pulling Sean with him, kissing him harder. Sean shifts, rocking down into him slowly as Tom pulls back just enough to breathe, feeling Sean's breath mingling with his own. Sean opens his eyes, meeting Tom's as he smiles slowly.
"They were kind of shitty signals, dude," Tom says against his lips, as Sean laughs, throwing his head back. Sean shakes his head, shifting over until he's in Tom's lap, grinning as Tom returns it. Tom always feels lighter around Sean, like he can stop worrying or stop wondering about things. He doesn't know if he's tricking himself or if he relies on Sean to make him feel better, but he doesn't think it matters.
They kiss until Sean's laying on top of Tom, heavy but not uncomfortable as Tom slides his hands down to Sean's hips. He pulls him down further, grinding their hips together as best he can. Sean pulls back from the kiss, breathing hard and lips swollen and it's all Tom can focus on, all he can think about as he leans up. He bites at Sean's neck, hearing him gasp softly.
"Bed, come on," Sean says, breathing hard and grinning as Tom laugh softly. They kiss again and Tom pulls Sean back down with him. They rut against each other like that, pushing against each other in the sweats and laughing when they get tangled. Finally, Tom relents and pulls back.
"Fine, bed," he says, watching Sean get up, missing the weight of Sean caging him in and down on the couch. They walk to the bedroom like they're saying goodnight, like they weren't just making out furiously on the couch. It comforts Tom, in a way, that things don't change between them. That whatever they are or do, it doesn't change them.
Once in the bedroom, Tom can't help but laugh at the way they both hurry to pull their clothes off. It doesn't surprise Tom that both of them nearly fall and break their stupid fucking necks because of their sweatpants. It happens every single time and it never stops being funny, but Tom likes that. Tom likes the easy laughter and the way it makes the tight worry deep in his stomach untangle and settle.
Naked, he pulls Sean to him, kissing him hard as they lay back on the bed. Sean's dick presses against his and Tom shudders, groaning into the kiss as Sean grins against his lips. They kiss, sloppy and hurried as Sean thrusts against him, both unable to help the moans that fill the room.
"In me," Sean mumbles against Tom's lips, pressing against him. Tom groans at the thought, at fucking Sean, lazy and slow on the bed while it snows outside. He kisses Sean harder, feeling Sean's fingers tighten on his shoulders.
Tom pulls back to nod, breathing hard as he watches Sean. They stare at each other before Sean reaches over and digs in the table beside of them, coming up with a condom and lube. Something rolls in Tom's stomach, making him kiss Sean again, reveling in feeling Sean's stubble scrape over his own as they pull back.
He preps Sean quickly, letting Sean direct him with breathless gasps and deep groans as he curls his fingers. Sean bites at the junction between his neck and shoulder when Tom adds a third finger, arching against him and Tom pulls back, groaning.
"Now," Sean says, eyes dark and lips swollen and Tom spares a thought for his camera in his bag, wanting a picture of his lips. He pushes the thought away, rolling the condom on and slicking himself up, groaning thickly as he concentrates on not coming.
He pulls Sean on top of him, feeling the tension in Sean's body, in his own, as he pushes into Sean. Tom groans, feeling Sean echo it. They kiss hard, arching together as Tom loses himself in feeling Sean move against him. He can feel heat flooding his chest and stomach, coiling along his spine as Sean pulls back, gasping.
Tom thrusts against him, clutching his hips and feeling his fingers dig into the skin there, not caring. Sean shudders hard, reaching down to stroke himself fast and hard, hips grinding down against Tom. Tom watches him, unable to stop watching as he stiffens, shaking hard with a choked off groan.
He comes into his own hand and Tom moans loudly, arching up as he follows Sean, coming with a gasp. He feels like his lungs are being dragged out of him as he shudders hard, shaking and feeling wrung out before they collapse against each other.
Breathing hard, Sean kisses him lightly, resting their foreheads together as Tom tries to catch his breath. They stay like that, suddenly quiet, but Tom doesn't mind it, he doesn't mind the sweat that clings to the two of them, cold and now clammy. He pulls back carefully, easing out of Sean.
Tying the condom off, he tosses it into the wastebasket that's probably been sitting in Sean's room for way longer than either of them know. Sean settles down beside of him, yawning as he makes a soft sound in the middle. Tom laughs as he tugs the blankets up.
"Not gonna freak out this time, right?"
"Oh my god, one time," Tom says, throwing his hands up as Sean laughs. Tom laughs with him, leaning down to kiss him again, settling down with a yawn.
"Wonder if it's still snowing," Sean says after a few minutes. They don't curl up together, but Tom likes tangling their legs together, like any other time and place, and Tom shrugs.
"Dunno. But I'm sleeping here tonight."
"Of course," Sean says, shifting around so they both have blankets and pillow as Tom drifts off.
Tom wakes up with Sean draped all over him and half of the covers pooled onto the floor. He shivers as he pulls the covers back over them, settling down sleepily. He closes his eyes, feeling Sean roll over as Tom drowses in and out of sleep. He likes waking up in bed with Sean, even if he hogs all the space.
Sean shifts, and Tom opens his eyes, watching him stretch. He likes watching Sean wake up (to be fair, he likes watching Sean all the time), likes the way he pushes himself up and off the bed before falling back. Sean looks at him, giving him a sleepy smile.
"Morning," Sean says, yawning as he squirms back under the covers. Tom feels the low, phantom ache of Sean's hands on his hips and he wants to lift the covers up, see if there are bruises. Instead, he mumbles something back to Sean, pulling the covers higher. Sean laughs, voice still slick with sleep and lazy.
Tom watches him for a moment before reaching out to rub his thumb over the now purple bite mark on Sean's neck. Sean hums sleepily, pleased, as Tom presses lightly. He likes touching Sean, likes the way that Sean leans into it, meeting his eyes.
He slides his hand along Sean's chest, feeling the bare, warm skin under his fingers as he finds another bite mark. This one, high on his ribs, makes Tom huff out a soft breath of laughter as Sean bats at his hand, laughing softly. Tom hums softly, almost to himself, happily. He taps out a light run of notes on Sean's chest, grinning when Sean echoes them on Tom's arm.
"Morning," Tom says finally.
"Still snowing?" Sean asks as Tom shrugs. Sean shifts around, draping his legs over Tom's as he props himself against the wall and his pillow.
"Don't know, don't care, dude."
"Why do you hate snow? That's like hating Christmas," Sean says, making Tom laugh. Tom shrugs, yawning before he shifts his head on his pillow, watching Sean.
"Hate being cold and wet. Snow is, like, the worst of all that."
"You are so fucking weird, Tomrad," Sean says, fondly. He rubs one of his feet over Tom's calves idly, curling his toes as Tom snorts, shoving his leg at the foot as Sean grins. They settle down, Sean grabbing one of the four notebooks he's got scattered around the apartment (Tom's never seen anyone hoard notebooks the way Sean does) to show some lyrics to Tom.
Tom looks over them and he can hear guitar around them, can hear Max and him working together over Ryan and Al. It makes Tom smile and he feels grateful for what his life is now. When he looks over at Sean, seeing him smiling back, Tom thinks that maybe the others are just as grateful.