[fic] the pacific - florida
Title: Florida
Fandom The Pacific
Rating: NC-17
Genre: PWP
Word Count: 1,933
Characters/Pairing: Sledge/Snafu
Summary: There was no need to rush, no need to say in two days what they had both been keeping silent for a month.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters--they are based off of the actors' portrayals of characters in HBO's The Pacific, not the real people themselves.
Author's Note: UM SO HOW DID I WRITE TWO PWPS IN LIKE. A WEEK? AND BEFORE THIS, I NEVER EVEN STEPPED INTO THIS GENRE???? I BLAME thoracopagus ENTIRELY. AUGH. ALSO I SWEAR THE NEXT THING I WRITE WILL BE SOMETHING UNRELATED TO ROADVERSE (THOUGH I CANNOT PROMISE THE SAME THING FOR WHATEVER IS WRITTEN AFTER THAT).
roadverse master post
Snafu’s internal clock seemed to permanently be set to wake at five in the morning-but today the sun had come up a little earlier and it was lighter than Snafu was used to. The sun was already starting to slant in through the blinds, tracing geometric shapes on the far wall with clean morning light-blurred at the edges with the fuzziness of sleep still crowding his mind. Eugene had shifted onto his back sometime during the night but the warm skin of his side was still pressed up against Snafu’s spine, the palm of his hand splayed lightly against Snafu’s hip and he was breathing steadily.
Snafu closed his eyes again. It was a Saturday and he didn’t need to be at work. He didn’t need to get up, didn’t need to get dressed, didn’t need to brew a truly awful pot of coffee. The open window let the cool morning air in and Snafu didn’t even feel the restless urge to move away from Eugene because it was a nice temperature, because the air wasn’t too sticky.
And then it really sunk in: all of the half opened boxes creating uneven shadows on the ground, the lingering smell of fresh paint and floor polish, and familiar sheets tangled around his legs on an unfamiliar bed. He already quit the job at the lumberyard, Eugene was starting school in a week and it was going to be like this, with Eugene nearby from now on. There was nobody leaving on Sunday afternoon, no long train rides and none of the sharp loneliness he tried his best not to feel in the wake of Eugene’s absence.
For the first time that Snafu could remember, he felt at peace.
There was no need to rush, no need to say in two days what they had both been keeping silent for a month. There were no parents here, no maids transient in the hallways, no open fields and wide estate. There were no holes in the wall, no rust in the pipes, no mess of newspapers jostling for open space. Just boxes and a bed, just the simple heat of Eugene’s skin against his back and a future that stretched on serenely.
Snafu turned carefully, opened his eyes to look at Eugene’s profile in the angled light, the curve of his throat, the jut of his collarbone. In the movement, Eugene’s hand had slid from its place on Snafu’s hip to the low skin of his stomach and Snafu was feeling a hazy sense of want rise in the back of his mind. He traced the smooth skin with his eyes, back up the column of Eugene’s neck, lingering at that sensitive juncture of neck and jaw.
He urged his arms to move, to open his hands and uncurl his fingers and to draw light patterns on that wide expanse of skin. But even though his mind sparked with motivation, the command sputtered out before it ever had a chance to reach its destination. His limbs were too relaxed, his entire body was humming with a sort of bone-deep contentment and when Snafu closed his eyes, he found himself sinking into a blissfully dreamless sleep.
When he opened them again, the squares of light on the far wall had crawled several inches towards the ground and the room was steadily brightening. Eugene’s steady breathing told Snafu that he was still sleeping, a peaceful expression on his face. Snafu managed to regain control over his limbs, calling them back from sleep paralysis as he slowly drew a hand across Eugene’s side. Eugene didn’t even stir like he understood what it meant, that it meant no harm, and Snafu just watched him quietly, taking in the familiar planes of Eugene’s face.
He knew this body, had mapped it with his fingers and his tongue-he knew the puckered ridge of scars on Eugene’s left calf, the faintly mottled discoloration on his palms and wrists, the birthmark on the small of his back. He had learned how to elicit all these small sounds from Eugene, how to press kisses to neck, stomach, stroke the back of his knees and bite gently on the inside of his thigh. Maybe he knew Eugene’s body better than he knew his own.
It was easy, so easy to slide forward a little, breathe on Eugene’s skin with a fluttering breath, letting his lips drift aimlessly across it, writing secret messages without words. He moved slowly down, nosing lightly against Eugene’s ribcage, puff of hot air against a pale scoop of a scar. His hand slid along the tautness of Eugene’s stomach, thumb brushing against the ridge of his hipbone, callused fingers curling around the soft skin of Eugene’s inner thigh as he dragged gentle lips across Eugene’s belly.
Eugene shifted slightly and the head of his cock was slowly rising, the length of his cock slowly flushing. Snafu settled for a moment, turned his head and just laid there with his head pillowed against Eugene’s hip, letting his hand slowly slide up the inside of Eugene’s leg and watching his cock fill with an abstract sort of interest. Eugene wasn’t waking up yet and Snafu was so relaxed that he had half a mind to close his eyes again, to keep his head against Eugene’s hip and to waste this morning, strangely comfortable where he was even hanging half off the bed.
But he had a mission here-opened his eyes and pulled himself up until he was caging Eugene’s hips with his arms, bent down to mouth lightly at the tip of his cock. Languid movements of his mouth, dipping his head and tracing the vein on the underside lightly. Eugene was a familiar weight on his tongue, a familiar taste-musk and maybe something a little spicy. Drag the blunt of his tongue against the slit, the tiniest of scrapes with his teeth along the bottom and then his tongue was there, smoothing over the skin. The trick drew a low moan from Eugene’s throat, and the slightest shift of his hips.
Breathe in through his nose slowly, let his mouth go slack, for his jaw to relax-all of these practiced movements had been familiarized over time. He let his tongue lead and his lips follow as he slid forward, enveloping Eugene in wet heat.
There was another shift of Eugene’s hips-and a hand in his hair. Snafu hollowed his cheeks, turned his eyes up-barely a faint glimmer of silver from underneath his hooded eyes and saw Eugene watching him, eyes still half closed but definitely awake and intent on Snafu’s face. The morning light-or maybe it was the haziness of just waking up-muted and blurred the smear of Snafu’s lips around his cock, the indistinct shadow of eyelashes against his cheek. Snafu was moving slowly, his tongue stroking against the underside of his cock, just a blink and a shift when the head of Eugene’s cock hit the back of his mouth. A coil of pleasure was pooling at the base of his spine and every time Snafu pressed his tongue and dragged it across the sensitive skin, it tightened and Eugene found himself making a low whine of want.
Snafu’s fingers ghosted down the backs of Eugene’s thighs, curling at his knees as he slowly pulled off of his dick with a wet noise. Eugene was staring at him with something like a faraway look, staring at his lips like he wasn’t entirely sure if he was awake or dreaming and Snafu let his tongue run out over his bottom lip. Eugene’s stare intensified and was gripping Snafu’s shoulders and urging him up. Maybe Snafu was still half sleeping himself, pliant in the way he was allowing himself to be dragged up the length of Eugene’s body, pressing kisses to Eugene’s neck, jaw, and then his mouth, the length of his own hard cock nestled into the dip of Eugene’s thighs.
Eugene kissed Snafu slow, exploring his mouth like he hadn’t already claimed it a hundred times before, stroking his tongue lazily against the roof of his mouth before pulling back and sucking lightly on Snafu’s lower lip. Snafu let Eugene kiss him, finding that all of his previous motivation was rapidly draining away-and he was nothing more than a set of heavy limbs, a living blanket breathing puffs of air across Eugene’s cheek.
“Mer,” Eugene murmured, and the rest of Snafu’s name might have followed in a drawn off mess of indistinguishable syllables, hand sliding across the curve of Snafu’s ass. They stayed like that for a long moment and then Snafu turned his head, dragged his tongue slowly down Eugene’s jaw and ground his hips forward, pressing Eugene into the mattress.
Eugene’s answering breath was shaky and his head tilted back at the slow build of pleasure making his fingers curl. Maybe it was a little slow, too sloppy the way that Snafu’s hipbones dug into his skin-the lack of finesse in the way that he was rubbing against Eugene’s skin-but Eugene didn’t care, didn’t mind as long as Snafu kept rocking into him, all of the friction and pressure dragging like a slow comet over his skin. He had experienced Snafu’s intense focus, the way that he could make Eugene fly apart with a well placed swipe of the tongue, the way that he smirked around Eugene’s cock like he knew all too well what he was doing. But this-sometimes Eugene wondered if he didn’t like this better, the way that Snafu pressed against him and writhed with the warm skin of his slack jaw against Eugene’s neck, too distracted or maybe too tired to partake in his favorite activity of marking Eugene. And the way that his loose limbs kept Eugene in, like holding water with his hands-it was all Eugene could do to press back and let their cocks slide past one another. It was all he could do as Snafu pressed him down and panted silent words into Eugene’s skin, tearing him down and building him back up.
Eugene came with a gasp and a shudder, jaw clenching tight as he rode out the orgasm against Snafu’s insistent movements, eyes wide and unfocused. Snafu came with a grunt against Eugene’s neck, his shallow thrusts stuttering and Eugene unconsciously pulled him closer before his hands were moving, drifting into the small of Snafu’s back and settling there, warm hands splayed.
Their breathing was quiet, slowly returning to a steady state. Snafu made as if to get off of Eugene but Eugene just tightened his hold as if to say just stay for a moment and just stay here with me. Snafu huffed against the side of Eugene’s neck.
It was still early morning though the shapes of light had slid halfway onto the ground like it didn’t have the strength to hold itself up. Dust motes flicked transiently in and out of existence. Eugene’s hand slid up and drown Snafu’s back absently, the barest brush of fingers against his spine. Everything was silent-no shout of children playing in the alleyway, no quiet chatter of maids seeping under closed doors. Just this space around them and between them, measured in the strength of sunlight thrown up against walls that would become familiar to them, measured in the span of their combined breathing.
Eugene closed his eyes and his hand dropped. Snafu didn’t move and Eugene didn’t mind the weight of the other man draped across him.
Somewhere in Florida, two men fell asleep.
Fandom The Pacific
Rating: NC-17
Genre: PWP
Word Count: 1,933
Characters/Pairing: Sledge/Snafu
Summary: There was no need to rush, no need to say in two days what they had both been keeping silent for a month.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters--they are based off of the actors' portrayals of characters in HBO's The Pacific, not the real people themselves.
Author's Note: UM SO HOW DID I WRITE TWO PWPS IN LIKE. A WEEK? AND BEFORE THIS, I NEVER EVEN STEPPED INTO THIS GENRE???? I BLAME thoracopagus ENTIRELY. AUGH. ALSO I SWEAR THE NEXT THING I WRITE WILL BE SOMETHING UNRELATED TO ROADVERSE (THOUGH I CANNOT PROMISE THE SAME THING FOR WHATEVER IS WRITTEN AFTER THAT).
roadverse master post
Snafu’s internal clock seemed to permanently be set to wake at five in the morning-but today the sun had come up a little earlier and it was lighter than Snafu was used to. The sun was already starting to slant in through the blinds, tracing geometric shapes on the far wall with clean morning light-blurred at the edges with the fuzziness of sleep still crowding his mind. Eugene had shifted onto his back sometime during the night but the warm skin of his side was still pressed up against Snafu’s spine, the palm of his hand splayed lightly against Snafu’s hip and he was breathing steadily.
Snafu closed his eyes again. It was a Saturday and he didn’t need to be at work. He didn’t need to get up, didn’t need to get dressed, didn’t need to brew a truly awful pot of coffee. The open window let the cool morning air in and Snafu didn’t even feel the restless urge to move away from Eugene because it was a nice temperature, because the air wasn’t too sticky.
And then it really sunk in: all of the half opened boxes creating uneven shadows on the ground, the lingering smell of fresh paint and floor polish, and familiar sheets tangled around his legs on an unfamiliar bed. He already quit the job at the lumberyard, Eugene was starting school in a week and it was going to be like this, with Eugene nearby from now on. There was nobody leaving on Sunday afternoon, no long train rides and none of the sharp loneliness he tried his best not to feel in the wake of Eugene’s absence.
For the first time that Snafu could remember, he felt at peace.
There was no need to rush, no need to say in two days what they had both been keeping silent for a month. There were no parents here, no maids transient in the hallways, no open fields and wide estate. There were no holes in the wall, no rust in the pipes, no mess of newspapers jostling for open space. Just boxes and a bed, just the simple heat of Eugene’s skin against his back and a future that stretched on serenely.
Snafu turned carefully, opened his eyes to look at Eugene’s profile in the angled light, the curve of his throat, the jut of his collarbone. In the movement, Eugene’s hand had slid from its place on Snafu’s hip to the low skin of his stomach and Snafu was feeling a hazy sense of want rise in the back of his mind. He traced the smooth skin with his eyes, back up the column of Eugene’s neck, lingering at that sensitive juncture of neck and jaw.
He urged his arms to move, to open his hands and uncurl his fingers and to draw light patterns on that wide expanse of skin. But even though his mind sparked with motivation, the command sputtered out before it ever had a chance to reach its destination. His limbs were too relaxed, his entire body was humming with a sort of bone-deep contentment and when Snafu closed his eyes, he found himself sinking into a blissfully dreamless sleep.
When he opened them again, the squares of light on the far wall had crawled several inches towards the ground and the room was steadily brightening. Eugene’s steady breathing told Snafu that he was still sleeping, a peaceful expression on his face. Snafu managed to regain control over his limbs, calling them back from sleep paralysis as he slowly drew a hand across Eugene’s side. Eugene didn’t even stir like he understood what it meant, that it meant no harm, and Snafu just watched him quietly, taking in the familiar planes of Eugene’s face.
He knew this body, had mapped it with his fingers and his tongue-he knew the puckered ridge of scars on Eugene’s left calf, the faintly mottled discoloration on his palms and wrists, the birthmark on the small of his back. He had learned how to elicit all these small sounds from Eugene, how to press kisses to neck, stomach, stroke the back of his knees and bite gently on the inside of his thigh. Maybe he knew Eugene’s body better than he knew his own.
It was easy, so easy to slide forward a little, breathe on Eugene’s skin with a fluttering breath, letting his lips drift aimlessly across it, writing secret messages without words. He moved slowly down, nosing lightly against Eugene’s ribcage, puff of hot air against a pale scoop of a scar. His hand slid along the tautness of Eugene’s stomach, thumb brushing against the ridge of his hipbone, callused fingers curling around the soft skin of Eugene’s inner thigh as he dragged gentle lips across Eugene’s belly.
Eugene shifted slightly and the head of his cock was slowly rising, the length of his cock slowly flushing. Snafu settled for a moment, turned his head and just laid there with his head pillowed against Eugene’s hip, letting his hand slowly slide up the inside of Eugene’s leg and watching his cock fill with an abstract sort of interest. Eugene wasn’t waking up yet and Snafu was so relaxed that he had half a mind to close his eyes again, to keep his head against Eugene’s hip and to waste this morning, strangely comfortable where he was even hanging half off the bed.
But he had a mission here-opened his eyes and pulled himself up until he was caging Eugene’s hips with his arms, bent down to mouth lightly at the tip of his cock. Languid movements of his mouth, dipping his head and tracing the vein on the underside lightly. Eugene was a familiar weight on his tongue, a familiar taste-musk and maybe something a little spicy. Drag the blunt of his tongue against the slit, the tiniest of scrapes with his teeth along the bottom and then his tongue was there, smoothing over the skin. The trick drew a low moan from Eugene’s throat, and the slightest shift of his hips.
Breathe in through his nose slowly, let his mouth go slack, for his jaw to relax-all of these practiced movements had been familiarized over time. He let his tongue lead and his lips follow as he slid forward, enveloping Eugene in wet heat.
There was another shift of Eugene’s hips-and a hand in his hair. Snafu hollowed his cheeks, turned his eyes up-barely a faint glimmer of silver from underneath his hooded eyes and saw Eugene watching him, eyes still half closed but definitely awake and intent on Snafu’s face. The morning light-or maybe it was the haziness of just waking up-muted and blurred the smear of Snafu’s lips around his cock, the indistinct shadow of eyelashes against his cheek. Snafu was moving slowly, his tongue stroking against the underside of his cock, just a blink and a shift when the head of Eugene’s cock hit the back of his mouth. A coil of pleasure was pooling at the base of his spine and every time Snafu pressed his tongue and dragged it across the sensitive skin, it tightened and Eugene found himself making a low whine of want.
Snafu’s fingers ghosted down the backs of Eugene’s thighs, curling at his knees as he slowly pulled off of his dick with a wet noise. Eugene was staring at him with something like a faraway look, staring at his lips like he wasn’t entirely sure if he was awake or dreaming and Snafu let his tongue run out over his bottom lip. Eugene’s stare intensified and was gripping Snafu’s shoulders and urging him up. Maybe Snafu was still half sleeping himself, pliant in the way he was allowing himself to be dragged up the length of Eugene’s body, pressing kisses to Eugene’s neck, jaw, and then his mouth, the length of his own hard cock nestled into the dip of Eugene’s thighs.
Eugene kissed Snafu slow, exploring his mouth like he hadn’t already claimed it a hundred times before, stroking his tongue lazily against the roof of his mouth before pulling back and sucking lightly on Snafu’s lower lip. Snafu let Eugene kiss him, finding that all of his previous motivation was rapidly draining away-and he was nothing more than a set of heavy limbs, a living blanket breathing puffs of air across Eugene’s cheek.
“Mer,” Eugene murmured, and the rest of Snafu’s name might have followed in a drawn off mess of indistinguishable syllables, hand sliding across the curve of Snafu’s ass. They stayed like that for a long moment and then Snafu turned his head, dragged his tongue slowly down Eugene’s jaw and ground his hips forward, pressing Eugene into the mattress.
Eugene’s answering breath was shaky and his head tilted back at the slow build of pleasure making his fingers curl. Maybe it was a little slow, too sloppy the way that Snafu’s hipbones dug into his skin-the lack of finesse in the way that he was rubbing against Eugene’s skin-but Eugene didn’t care, didn’t mind as long as Snafu kept rocking into him, all of the friction and pressure dragging like a slow comet over his skin. He had experienced Snafu’s intense focus, the way that he could make Eugene fly apart with a well placed swipe of the tongue, the way that he smirked around Eugene’s cock like he knew all too well what he was doing. But this-sometimes Eugene wondered if he didn’t like this better, the way that Snafu pressed against him and writhed with the warm skin of his slack jaw against Eugene’s neck, too distracted or maybe too tired to partake in his favorite activity of marking Eugene. And the way that his loose limbs kept Eugene in, like holding water with his hands-it was all Eugene could do to press back and let their cocks slide past one another. It was all he could do as Snafu pressed him down and panted silent words into Eugene’s skin, tearing him down and building him back up.
Eugene came with a gasp and a shudder, jaw clenching tight as he rode out the orgasm against Snafu’s insistent movements, eyes wide and unfocused. Snafu came with a grunt against Eugene’s neck, his shallow thrusts stuttering and Eugene unconsciously pulled him closer before his hands were moving, drifting into the small of Snafu’s back and settling there, warm hands splayed.
Their breathing was quiet, slowly returning to a steady state. Snafu made as if to get off of Eugene but Eugene just tightened his hold as if to say just stay for a moment and just stay here with me. Snafu huffed against the side of Eugene’s neck.
It was still early morning though the shapes of light had slid halfway onto the ground like it didn’t have the strength to hold itself up. Dust motes flicked transiently in and out of existence. Eugene’s hand slid up and drown Snafu’s back absently, the barest brush of fingers against his spine. Everything was silent-no shout of children playing in the alleyway, no quiet chatter of maids seeping under closed doors. Just this space around them and between them, measured in the strength of sunlight thrown up against walls that would become familiar to them, measured in the span of their combined breathing.
Eugene closed his eyes and his hand dropped. Snafu didn’t move and Eugene didn’t mind the weight of the other man draped across him.
Somewhere in Florida, two men fell asleep.