Let's Do It (Let's Fall In... Something) (30 Rock, Jack/Liz)
Title: Let's Do It (Let's Fall In... Something)
Prompt: 100_situations #037. Office
Fandom: 30 Rock
Pairing: Jack/Liz
Spoilers: S1
Word Count: 2,217
Rating: NC-17
Table: Number Two.
Summary: Liz doesn't have much, well, any prior experience with this whole 'sleeping with the boss' thing.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue! Title is inspired by the Cole Porter song.
*
Liz doesn't have much, well, any prior experience with this whole 'sleeping with the boss' thing, so she has no idea what the ground rules are. She supposes she could ask Jack, but this has been going on for a little over three months, which means she's passed the window of time when things are allowed to be unclear to her. She should know what they're doing and where this is going, but she still has a lot of questions. Like, can she tell her friends? Well, she probably wouldn't tell Jenna, since Jenna would tell everyone. But can she tell Pete? Is this leading to something? Not to marriage, but something? Are they allowed to sleep with other people? Would she even want to? Does he want to? Could she summon the energy to have more than one sexual partner at a time? Is it okay for her to fall in love with him?
Why did she think that last one?
Probably because he's kissing her. He kisses her like he's in love with her, which... is hard to explain. It's one of those things you recognize when you're on the receiving end of it. And usually it freaks her out, because she's always gotten those passionate, oh-how-I-need-you kisses from men who are not the sort she wants to get such kisses from. But with Jack, there are a lot of pleasant emotions along with the confusion, and no real freaking out. So does that mean Jack is the sort of man she wants those types of kisses from?
Why can't she think about something else now?
Because there are other things to think about. Like how she doesn't remember if Jack locked the door and that such forgetfulness could result in Jonathan walking in on them. Which, okay, Jonathan isn't going to tell the world or even acknowledge it afterward if he catches them on the couch without their pants on.
("That's what he gets paid for: discretion," Jack had asserted, and that wasn't as comforting as he probably meant it to be. Because, really, how many women has he done this with? Been all Look at me, I'm Jack Donaghy, I have a sexy voice. Come into my office and we can take off our pants. That's not what literally happened with her, of course, but it's not an entirely inaccurate synopsis.)
But anyway: she doesn't want Jonathan to see her involved in any type of sexual activity. Though even that more pressing thought is moved to the backburner when Jack slips his fingers under the top of her panties. He stops kissing her, asks if she's wet. Which... that should be on the top of the list of concerns, because she can't handle sex talk. Seriously, can't he just check? His hand is almost there.
God. His hand is almost there. And if she were to answer his question, she'd say yes, and... so, yes.
"Let's do it," she says. "Right now."
He sort of grunts as he kisses her neck and starts to pull her panties down her legs.
When she straddles him, her underwear is around one of her ankles, but she's not worried. If there's anything she's learned about sleeping with the boss, it's that panties will fall off her foot eventually. And if they don't, it doesn't matter. It's much more important to keep moaning to a minimum, even when it feels really good. Especially when it feels really good, like when he's inside her and his hands are sliding under her shirt, fingers moving over her skin until they're beneath the bra that's been unhooked but not taken off.
Like now. It's important to keep her voice down now.
There are a lot of options for keeping quiet, and at the moment, Liz is using the 'biting your lip' method instead of the 'pressing your mouth against his shoulder' or 'burying your head in the crook of his neck,' as the fact that his lips are traveling over her collarbone limits her options. The pace quickens, and she's just grinding against him like... someone who does that. Like a stripper. Or something. Not like herself, at least.
This is what having sex with the boss has turned her into: a straddling, pantsless grinder.
But, well. It feels nice. In a dirty office sex way.
And when it's feeling nice in a dirty kind of way, she doesn't think about her possibly falling in love with him or him maybe being in love with her, and the appropriateness of such hypothetical devotion. But when it gets really nice in the dirty kind of way, he takes this as a cue to start talking smuttily again. Which, really, hasn't he ever slept with a geek before?
Hmm, maybe not. She wonders if he has long inner monologues about the protocols of being with someone who has a lot of deep thoughts about the Star Wars saga.
But that's not the point. The point is: he's trying to make sexy small talk, and it's just not awesome. So she decides to start muffling her noises by kissing him. Which brings her back to the question of him being in love with her, because he's fully kissing her in-between some heavy breathing which... is somewhat impressive, since Liz is already getting a little too gaspy with this whole sex and making out thing. Then she's forgetting to stifle her moans -- this might be a major office sex violation -- and digging her fingers into his shoulders as she comes.
She stops moving and tries to keep her mouth closed. In her ear, he whispers a desire for her to get on her back. She's never really understood the need to change positions in the middle of sex, but she doesn't resist the request, pulling away from him and reclining on the couch. Soon, his body is over hers and he's pushing back inside her as his fingers press into the underside of her thigh. His other arm slides underneath her own to rest on the couch. She arches up against him as he kisses her, grips onto his back with both hands as his hips rock against hers. There's something comforting about having him this close, even in a dirty office sex situation, and she finds herself holding him tighter.
"I want you to come again," he says, and this comment has the distinction of being one of the few sexually-charged ones that doesn't embarrass her. Maybe it's the way he says it, a whisper against her cheek, or because it's a generous sentiment and she's always been a fan of philanthropy.
Regardless of her relative wealth of comfort with these words, she still feels awkward responding to them. "Um, yeah. That." She tilts her head back as he kisses her chin, then her neck. "That would be nice."
He tells her to wrap her legs around him, and she tries to get her feet up as high as she can. She moans too loud the next time he moves, a little surprised by the increased friction against her clit even though she was expecting it. She moves a hand away from his back and covers her mouth.
"Don't worry about it," he says. "I'm the only one who can hear you." He quickly kisses her jaw. "I want to hear you."
Though their bodies are both unmoving, she groans. There's just something about the way he says it, voice more gravelly than normal and his eyes locked with hers. Both hands on his back, she thrusts up against him. He stops touching her thigh and presses his other arm against the couch as he thrusts back against her. They move together, going back to rocking their hips but quickening the speed.
After she climaxes again, he gives her another one of those love-seeming kisses, and maybe she kisses him back like she loves him. Has she always been kissing him back like she loves him? Yeah, this is how she generally kisses him. She should've pondered this sooner, but she leaves the thoughts hanging because he's still inside her, still moving inside her, still so close to her, and it still feels good.
That's quite a few stills, but. Still. Right now, she doesn't care about her sentence structure or have a thesaurus handy. And she's sure that 'don't read during sex' would be one of the guidelines of this whole thing. Unless they were looking at the Kama Sutra, maybe. But she doesn't think she wants to look at sex books. She wonders if they're working up to reading sex books together.
She's probably going to have to get used to dirty talk before she lets him whip out erotic tomes.
But now she's not going to think about anything but this: his body so near to hers, him inside her, the feel of his breath against her skin. She likes this. She also likes when he looks at her as he starts to thrust harder, that he kisses the corner of her mouth as he gets closer, how he says her name as he comes.
(Her first name, for the record. This is the only man she's ever had to note that about, and she kind of likes that distinction, too.)
Soon after is the most awkward and least mysterious part of having office sex with one's boss: the cleaning up, the redressing and rearranging of clothes that were not fully taken off, the wiping of sweat off the back of necks, the trying not to look like someone who's just had intercourse.
This, she's gotten pretty good at, though she finds the act of straightening Jack's tie to be a compulsion for her. In the past few minutes, she's already done it three times, and she's currently doing it again. He doesn't point out her weird obsession with this deed, though she's pretty sure he's noticed.
"So." She nods, running her hand down his chest before giving a quick thumbs up. "All ready for the outside world."
"Very much so."
"I should get going." She scrunches up her face as she looks at her watch; she's been here for over an hour. "I hope my show hasn't descended into chaos in the time I've been gone."
"If your show can't stay together while you take a fornication break of little more than standard length, perhaps it was meant to fall apart."
"Fornication break?"
"It's a common phrase, Lemon."
"Yeah, I'm sure it is."
He kisses her again, softly this time, implying gentle affection more than love. Though gentle affection could be a symptom of love. In any case, this is a kiss of like or love, which answers absolutely no questions. She knows he likes her. She likes him.
Maybe that's all the guidance she needs for right now.
He pulls away, but his hand is still resting on her arm. He's smiling slightly. "If you've never heard the phrase, what have you been calling the carnal moments that have occurred in my office?"
"Couldn't really figure out a name for them." She kisses him one last time. "Okay. I'll see you later."
*
Her show has not been overtaken by anarchy. She didn't really think it would be, as it always survives her extended trips to Jack's office, but. You know. Look at the people she works with. And she's just gotten back, so there could be craziness waiting for her. Just as she's thinking this, Tracy jogs past her in the hall.
"Wait, Tray! Where are you going?"
"Need to duck out for a while," he replies, barely glancing back. "Gotta have me a fornication break."
"Fornication break?" Liz raises her eyebrows, though Tracy's already out of sight. "Really?"
Jenna sidles up to her. "It's a pretty well-known phrase. So, where were you? I've been looking for you everywhere."
Liz shrugs. "Fornication break."
"Where were you really?"
"Upstairs. Just working some things out with Jack." She's not sure she kept the wink-wink-nudge-nudge out of her voice, but Jenna's face doesn't imply that she's picked up on any subtext. "What did you want to talk to me about?"
"You know that David and I have been talking again."
"Yeah."
"Well." Jenna's smile widens. "I just got the most amazing e-mail from him--"
Liz holds up her hands as if her palms will protect her from the mental images she's sure Jenna's next words will leave her with. "Go have your fornication break."
"No, Liz. He says he wants to be on the show next week. He does a terrific impression of Kevin Pollak doing Alan Arkin."
"Um... okay. I'll think about working it in."
Jenna frowns slightly at Liz's noncommittal words. She pauses, then goes back to smiling. "What if I told you that David has a friend?"
She ponders this for a moment. "I guess I'd be kind of surprised."
"I mean to set you up with."
"Yeah, I don't think so."
"What if I told you the friend was Leo DiCaprio?"
"I don't think Leo DiCaprio and I would make a good couple."
Jenna nods. "Good, because the friend's not Leo."
Liz sighs. "I'm perfectly happy with my love life the way it is. Perfectly happy," she repeats before heading to her office.
END
Prompt: 100_situations #037. Office
Fandom: 30 Rock
Pairing: Jack/Liz
Spoilers: S1
Word Count: 2,217
Rating: NC-17
Table: Number Two.
Summary: Liz doesn't have much, well, any prior experience with this whole 'sleeping with the boss' thing.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue! Title is inspired by the Cole Porter song.
*
Liz doesn't have much, well, any prior experience with this whole 'sleeping with the boss' thing, so she has no idea what the ground rules are. She supposes she could ask Jack, but this has been going on for a little over three months, which means she's passed the window of time when things are allowed to be unclear to her. She should know what they're doing and where this is going, but she still has a lot of questions. Like, can she tell her friends? Well, she probably wouldn't tell Jenna, since Jenna would tell everyone. But can she tell Pete? Is this leading to something? Not to marriage, but something? Are they allowed to sleep with other people? Would she even want to? Does he want to? Could she summon the energy to have more than one sexual partner at a time? Is it okay for her to fall in love with him?
Why did she think that last one?
Probably because he's kissing her. He kisses her like he's in love with her, which... is hard to explain. It's one of those things you recognize when you're on the receiving end of it. And usually it freaks her out, because she's always gotten those passionate, oh-how-I-need-you kisses from men who are not the sort she wants to get such kisses from. But with Jack, there are a lot of pleasant emotions along with the confusion, and no real freaking out. So does that mean Jack is the sort of man she wants those types of kisses from?
Why can't she think about something else now?
Because there are other things to think about. Like how she doesn't remember if Jack locked the door and that such forgetfulness could result in Jonathan walking in on them. Which, okay, Jonathan isn't going to tell the world or even acknowledge it afterward if he catches them on the couch without their pants on.
("That's what he gets paid for: discretion," Jack had asserted, and that wasn't as comforting as he probably meant it to be. Because, really, how many women has he done this with? Been all Look at me, I'm Jack Donaghy, I have a sexy voice. Come into my office and we can take off our pants. That's not what literally happened with her, of course, but it's not an entirely inaccurate synopsis.)
But anyway: she doesn't want Jonathan to see her involved in any type of sexual activity. Though even that more pressing thought is moved to the backburner when Jack slips his fingers under the top of her panties. He stops kissing her, asks if she's wet. Which... that should be on the top of the list of concerns, because she can't handle sex talk. Seriously, can't he just check? His hand is almost there.
God. His hand is almost there. And if she were to answer his question, she'd say yes, and... so, yes.
"Let's do it," she says. "Right now."
He sort of grunts as he kisses her neck and starts to pull her panties down her legs.
When she straddles him, her underwear is around one of her ankles, but she's not worried. If there's anything she's learned about sleeping with the boss, it's that panties will fall off her foot eventually. And if they don't, it doesn't matter. It's much more important to keep moaning to a minimum, even when it feels really good. Especially when it feels really good, like when he's inside her and his hands are sliding under her shirt, fingers moving over her skin until they're beneath the bra that's been unhooked but not taken off.
Like now. It's important to keep her voice down now.
There are a lot of options for keeping quiet, and at the moment, Liz is using the 'biting your lip' method instead of the 'pressing your mouth against his shoulder' or 'burying your head in the crook of his neck,' as the fact that his lips are traveling over her collarbone limits her options. The pace quickens, and she's just grinding against him like... someone who does that. Like a stripper. Or something. Not like herself, at least.
This is what having sex with the boss has turned her into: a straddling, pantsless grinder.
But, well. It feels nice. In a dirty office sex way.
And when it's feeling nice in a dirty kind of way, she doesn't think about her possibly falling in love with him or him maybe being in love with her, and the appropriateness of such hypothetical devotion. But when it gets really nice in the dirty kind of way, he takes this as a cue to start talking smuttily again. Which, really, hasn't he ever slept with a geek before?
Hmm, maybe not. She wonders if he has long inner monologues about the protocols of being with someone who has a lot of deep thoughts about the Star Wars saga.
But that's not the point. The point is: he's trying to make sexy small talk, and it's just not awesome. So she decides to start muffling her noises by kissing him. Which brings her back to the question of him being in love with her, because he's fully kissing her in-between some heavy breathing which... is somewhat impressive, since Liz is already getting a little too gaspy with this whole sex and making out thing. Then she's forgetting to stifle her moans -- this might be a major office sex violation -- and digging her fingers into his shoulders as she comes.
She stops moving and tries to keep her mouth closed. In her ear, he whispers a desire for her to get on her back. She's never really understood the need to change positions in the middle of sex, but she doesn't resist the request, pulling away from him and reclining on the couch. Soon, his body is over hers and he's pushing back inside her as his fingers press into the underside of her thigh. His other arm slides underneath her own to rest on the couch. She arches up against him as he kisses her, grips onto his back with both hands as his hips rock against hers. There's something comforting about having him this close, even in a dirty office sex situation, and she finds herself holding him tighter.
"I want you to come again," he says, and this comment has the distinction of being one of the few sexually-charged ones that doesn't embarrass her. Maybe it's the way he says it, a whisper against her cheek, or because it's a generous sentiment and she's always been a fan of philanthropy.
Regardless of her relative wealth of comfort with these words, she still feels awkward responding to them. "Um, yeah. That." She tilts her head back as he kisses her chin, then her neck. "That would be nice."
He tells her to wrap her legs around him, and she tries to get her feet up as high as she can. She moans too loud the next time he moves, a little surprised by the increased friction against her clit even though she was expecting it. She moves a hand away from his back and covers her mouth.
"Don't worry about it," he says. "I'm the only one who can hear you." He quickly kisses her jaw. "I want to hear you."
Though their bodies are both unmoving, she groans. There's just something about the way he says it, voice more gravelly than normal and his eyes locked with hers. Both hands on his back, she thrusts up against him. He stops touching her thigh and presses his other arm against the couch as he thrusts back against her. They move together, going back to rocking their hips but quickening the speed.
After she climaxes again, he gives her another one of those love-seeming kisses, and maybe she kisses him back like she loves him. Has she always been kissing him back like she loves him? Yeah, this is how she generally kisses him. She should've pondered this sooner, but she leaves the thoughts hanging because he's still inside her, still moving inside her, still so close to her, and it still feels good.
That's quite a few stills, but. Still. Right now, she doesn't care about her sentence structure or have a thesaurus handy. And she's sure that 'don't read during sex' would be one of the guidelines of this whole thing. Unless they were looking at the Kama Sutra, maybe. But she doesn't think she wants to look at sex books. She wonders if they're working up to reading sex books together.
She's probably going to have to get used to dirty talk before she lets him whip out erotic tomes.
But now she's not going to think about anything but this: his body so near to hers, him inside her, the feel of his breath against her skin. She likes this. She also likes when he looks at her as he starts to thrust harder, that he kisses the corner of her mouth as he gets closer, how he says her name as he comes.
(Her first name, for the record. This is the only man she's ever had to note that about, and she kind of likes that distinction, too.)
Soon after is the most awkward and least mysterious part of having office sex with one's boss: the cleaning up, the redressing and rearranging of clothes that were not fully taken off, the wiping of sweat off the back of necks, the trying not to look like someone who's just had intercourse.
This, she's gotten pretty good at, though she finds the act of straightening Jack's tie to be a compulsion for her. In the past few minutes, she's already done it three times, and she's currently doing it again. He doesn't point out her weird obsession with this deed, though she's pretty sure he's noticed.
"So." She nods, running her hand down his chest before giving a quick thumbs up. "All ready for the outside world."
"Very much so."
"I should get going." She scrunches up her face as she looks at her watch; she's been here for over an hour. "I hope my show hasn't descended into chaos in the time I've been gone."
"If your show can't stay together while you take a fornication break of little more than standard length, perhaps it was meant to fall apart."
"Fornication break?"
"It's a common phrase, Lemon."
"Yeah, I'm sure it is."
He kisses her again, softly this time, implying gentle affection more than love. Though gentle affection could be a symptom of love. In any case, this is a kiss of like or love, which answers absolutely no questions. She knows he likes her. She likes him.
Maybe that's all the guidance she needs for right now.
He pulls away, but his hand is still resting on her arm. He's smiling slightly. "If you've never heard the phrase, what have you been calling the carnal moments that have occurred in my office?"
"Couldn't really figure out a name for them." She kisses him one last time. "Okay. I'll see you later."
*
Her show has not been overtaken by anarchy. She didn't really think it would be, as it always survives her extended trips to Jack's office, but. You know. Look at the people she works with. And she's just gotten back, so there could be craziness waiting for her. Just as she's thinking this, Tracy jogs past her in the hall.
"Wait, Tray! Where are you going?"
"Need to duck out for a while," he replies, barely glancing back. "Gotta have me a fornication break."
"Fornication break?" Liz raises her eyebrows, though Tracy's already out of sight. "Really?"
Jenna sidles up to her. "It's a pretty well-known phrase. So, where were you? I've been looking for you everywhere."
Liz shrugs. "Fornication break."
"Where were you really?"
"Upstairs. Just working some things out with Jack." She's not sure she kept the wink-wink-nudge-nudge out of her voice, but Jenna's face doesn't imply that she's picked up on any subtext. "What did you want to talk to me about?"
"You know that David and I have been talking again."
"Yeah."
"Well." Jenna's smile widens. "I just got the most amazing e-mail from him--"
Liz holds up her hands as if her palms will protect her from the mental images she's sure Jenna's next words will leave her with. "Go have your fornication break."
"No, Liz. He says he wants to be on the show next week. He does a terrific impression of Kevin Pollak doing Alan Arkin."
"Um... okay. I'll think about working it in."
Jenna frowns slightly at Liz's noncommittal words. She pauses, then goes back to smiling. "What if I told you that David has a friend?"
She ponders this for a moment. "I guess I'd be kind of surprised."
"I mean to set you up with."
"Yeah, I don't think so."
"What if I told you the friend was Leo DiCaprio?"
"I don't think Leo DiCaprio and I would make a good couple."
Jenna nods. "Good, because the friend's not Leo."
Liz sighs. "I'm perfectly happy with my love life the way it is. Perfectly happy," she repeats before heading to her office.
END