Original Fic: cause when we kiss
Title: cause when we kiss
Fandom: Original Fic/Raising the Bar
Rating: PG-13
Category: Het
Characters/ Pairings: It’s up to you. It can be Jerry/Bobbi from Raising the Bar or two original characters
Warnings: I’ve only seen a few episodes from S1 and S2. If you don’t know about the sexual tension between them then, the pairing spoiled ya. No more spoilers other than that as far as I know. I haven’t seen the most recent episode. This could be canon for all I know.
Disclaimer: The original fic is all mine. If I owned RtB, Jerry wouldn’t have had that awful hair. Seriously. Why fug him up like that?
Notes: So I just got an idea for a little fic. Then Jerry/Bobbi popped into my head. I’m not claiming this is them because I don’t know the characters well enough to say it’s them. Or I could and say it’s an AU with them being OOC. *shrugs* It is what it is, which is to say whatever you want. Title and lyrics below from ‘Fire’ written by Bruce Springsteen but sung by The Pointer Sisters because when I heard this song I wanted to write a fic using it and it reminds me of J/B. (Version of song sung by Bruce. Just as sexy. Who knew?)
you had a hold on me
right from the start
a grip so tight
i couldn't tear it apart
my nerves all jumpin'
actin' like a fool
“I want to take you upstairs and …” He doesn’t finish, whipped in the face by her hair when she turns around to face him. She moves so fast her neck should hurt.
She smiles, not much surprise on her face, which he expected even if this has been a long time coming.
“Are you drunk?”
“If you’re asking if I’m completely sober, then no. But that doesn’t mean I don’t know what I’m saying.”
“Well,” she draws out. “Okay then.”
They slide out of the bar smiling at their friends who smile back. Who are probably thinking ‘it’s about time.’
The cool night air feels good against warm skin, flush from the heat inside the bar, from the alcohol.
As many times as he’s come to the bar, he’s never been upstairs. Neither has she, at least he thinks so. He hopes so. It’s better that way. It can be theirs.
They only smile at each other at the front desk, in the elevator on the way up, just outside the hotel room’s door.
“Bobbi,” he starts. She doesn’t let him finish.
“I think we’ve waited long enough, don’t you?” She whispers against his lips. The feel of them like little but intense jolts to his system. Lit match to gasoline.
He can’t not agree, slipping the keycard into the lock all without letting her go. Once inside, she backs up, hits the wall and pulls him close. He loves the feel of her under his hands, the feel of her heat through layers of fabric.
“Right here, right now,” she tells him, more breath than words.
That’s what stops him, not completely, just enough. He has to know. “Are you drunk?”
“As much as you are.”
He smiles. “Well, okay then.”
He goes back to kissing her, while their hands make short work of removing only the pieces of clothing that are in the way. They’re both being really irresponsible right now - they can blame that on the alcohol - it doesn’t matter though as he enters her slowly but surely until it’s just so good.