I Have My Limits (30 Rock, Jack/Liz)
Title: I Have My Limits
For: The Alphabet Meme
Fandom: 30 Rock
Pairing: Jack/Liz
Prompt: H is for herpes! (For peoplewantducks.)
Word Count: 1,218
Rating: R
Summary: "I can't believe I'm going to let you do me in an elevator."
Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue!
*
Liz's back is against the side of the elevator and her skirt is pushed above her knee. Last time something like this happened, she was alone, on her way to Jack's office, and she was looking for a run in her pantyhose. When the elevator momentarily stopped at the 25th floor, she stood up straight and said, "I wasn't doing anything weird," which guaranteed that the two guys getting on thought she'd been doing something weird, so that was awesome. Now... well, actually, what's happening now is nothing like that last time, even if her back is to the wall and her skirt is being pulled up her thigh. Because Jack isn't looking for any abnormalities or defects in her hosiery. He's not even looking at her leg, only touching, as he kisses her neck. He lifts his head up to cover her mouth with his own, her legs parting -- an unconscious signal that she's ready for sex, a signal that she's been conscious of since Jack drew her attention to it -- as his tongue slides into her mouth. He draws her leg up before he breaks the contact of their lips, then drops his head back to her neck, this time focusing on her right side.
"I can't believe I'm going to let you do me in an elevator."
She looks at the camera that's almost directly above them -- they couldn't fit properly in the corner to be right underneath it -- and hopes that Jack is correct (he should know, right?) or not lying (he wouldn't lie about that, would he?) when he says it can't capture what they're doing.
"I should have made you take off your stockings before we got on," he says.
"Then you would have killed the surprise, though."
He kisses his way to her ear, lets his hands rest right underneath her breasts. "Seducing you isn't more pleasurable for me when you don't expect it."
"It is for me."
"Is it?"
She shivers; his hands move slightly higher. "Well, not all the time." Like when he wanted to do it in the morning and she woke up with his mouth on her nipple (which was much less pleasant than usual), or when he got into the shower with her when her eyes were closed and all she knew was that somebody was touching her ass (she realized it was Jack almost immediately, but in the moment when she was confused and surprised, she jumped away from him and almost fell). "But other times, this time, I'm into it."
He kisses her again before he pulls back, whispering, "Take off your undergarments, Lemon."
"Okay." She adds, "Don't look."
This is an unnecessary directive, really, since he knows how she feels about him watching her when she's taking off her pantyhose, or her spanx, or her jeans. He covers his eyes as she kicks off her shoes, and she pushes and pulls at her pantyhose until they're in a clump in her hand. She tosses them onto her purse, which is in the corner -- right under the camera, so her purse definitely won't be caught... existing! -- and slides her underwear down in a more graceful way. She drops them in the same place as her pantyhose and, okay, she's glad the camera isn't catching her underwear existing.
"I'm ready," she says.
He uncovers his eyes and slides his arm around her, kissing her hard on the mouth. She unbuttons his suit jacket, and moves her hands up and down over his chest as he grabs his wallet from an inner pocket. He hands it to her as he shucks off his jacket, letting it fall to the ground before he takes his wallet back and opens it. Instead of pulling out a condom, he just stares into it quizzically.
"You don't have one?" she says, because otherwise he's in a trance or having a stroke and she's not betting on those options, even if this is a pretty surprising outcome, too. "How does that happen?"
"I am capable of forgetting to replenish." He drops his wallet to the floor. "I suppose we won't use one--"
She puts both hands on his chest, preventing his incoming kiss. "No."
"I know you've been consistent in taking your birth control."
"Yeah, but... You sleep with everyone."
"I can assure you, Lemon, that you're the only woman I'm currently sleeping with."
"But you've had a lot of sexual partners before me. A lot. When was the last time you checked yourself for STDs? You could have herpes and not know it. Herpes! Do you want to give me herpes?"
He tilts his head. "Do you honestly believe I have herpes?"
"Well... No. I don't *think* you do. But I can't have sex without a condom."
"You had sex with Dennis without a condom. Do you honestly trust a man who attempted to throw you under a train more than you trust me?"
"Two years ago, and that was not a proud moment. And he was kidding about throwing me in front of that train. Probably. Maybe. And I had sex with him before he tried to maybe throw me under a train. And trusting him to not have sex in the year we were broken up isn't *real* trust, so don't pull out the trust card." She grabs her underwear and pulls them up her legs. Jack's frown deepens. "You get everything checked out, and I will, too, because, for all I know, maybe I have herpes. I don't have herpes."
"That makes two of us."
"And then, after we get ourselves clean bills of health, we can think about being lax with the condoms in a pinch."
He picks his jacket and wallet up off the floor as she steps back into her shoes. "This is a highly disappointing end to this evening."
"I know."
He crosses his arms in front of him, seriously asserts: "You can't get an STD from my fingers, just as I can't get an STD from yours."
Liz was expecting something different, though she doesn't know what, and she scrunches up her face in response.
"I'm not lying to you."
"I didn't think you were lying. I just... even you're not usually so super serious about... you know." She doesn't like any of the words/phrases that could be used to talk about what he's referencing. She picks up her purse, shoving her pantyhose inside it. "I'll think about it if we get stuck in traffic on the way to your place."
He nods. "Fair enough." He pauses. "I'd know if I had herpes--"
"Okay, okay. I know you don't have herpes. But I'm sticking to my guns."
"You've never seen a sore--"
"Jack--"
"I've never made love to Paris Hilton--"
"I guess you read about that storage locker, too--"
"I always use condoms--"
"You just wanted to not use one!"
"You're not a one-night-stand. And, even if I did have herpes, I'm not currently having an outbreak, as you can attest considering you recently--"
"Dude, seriously," she says, pushing the emergency stop button back in, "I'm not changing my mind."
There's silence as they make their way to the ground floor. As the elevator opens, Jack says, "Keep my fingers in mind."
She exhales; nods. "Will do."
END
For: The Alphabet Meme
Fandom: 30 Rock
Pairing: Jack/Liz
Prompt: H is for herpes! (For peoplewantducks.)
Word Count: 1,218
Rating: R
Summary: "I can't believe I'm going to let you do me in an elevator."
Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue!
*
Liz's back is against the side of the elevator and her skirt is pushed above her knee. Last time something like this happened, she was alone, on her way to Jack's office, and she was looking for a run in her pantyhose. When the elevator momentarily stopped at the 25th floor, she stood up straight and said, "I wasn't doing anything weird," which guaranteed that the two guys getting on thought she'd been doing something weird, so that was awesome. Now... well, actually, what's happening now is nothing like that last time, even if her back is to the wall and her skirt is being pulled up her thigh. Because Jack isn't looking for any abnormalities or defects in her hosiery. He's not even looking at her leg, only touching, as he kisses her neck. He lifts his head up to cover her mouth with his own, her legs parting -- an unconscious signal that she's ready for sex, a signal that she's been conscious of since Jack drew her attention to it -- as his tongue slides into her mouth. He draws her leg up before he breaks the contact of their lips, then drops his head back to her neck, this time focusing on her right side.
"I can't believe I'm going to let you do me in an elevator."
She looks at the camera that's almost directly above them -- they couldn't fit properly in the corner to be right underneath it -- and hopes that Jack is correct (he should know, right?) or not lying (he wouldn't lie about that, would he?) when he says it can't capture what they're doing.
"I should have made you take off your stockings before we got on," he says.
"Then you would have killed the surprise, though."
He kisses his way to her ear, lets his hands rest right underneath her breasts. "Seducing you isn't more pleasurable for me when you don't expect it."
"It is for me."
"Is it?"
She shivers; his hands move slightly higher. "Well, not all the time." Like when he wanted to do it in the morning and she woke up with his mouth on her nipple (which was much less pleasant than usual), or when he got into the shower with her when her eyes were closed and all she knew was that somebody was touching her ass (she realized it was Jack almost immediately, but in the moment when she was confused and surprised, she jumped away from him and almost fell). "But other times, this time, I'm into it."
He kisses her again before he pulls back, whispering, "Take off your undergarments, Lemon."
"Okay." She adds, "Don't look."
This is an unnecessary directive, really, since he knows how she feels about him watching her when she's taking off her pantyhose, or her spanx, or her jeans. He covers his eyes as she kicks off her shoes, and she pushes and pulls at her pantyhose until they're in a clump in her hand. She tosses them onto her purse, which is in the corner -- right under the camera, so her purse definitely won't be caught... existing! -- and slides her underwear down in a more graceful way. She drops them in the same place as her pantyhose and, okay, she's glad the camera isn't catching her underwear existing.
"I'm ready," she says.
He uncovers his eyes and slides his arm around her, kissing her hard on the mouth. She unbuttons his suit jacket, and moves her hands up and down over his chest as he grabs his wallet from an inner pocket. He hands it to her as he shucks off his jacket, letting it fall to the ground before he takes his wallet back and opens it. Instead of pulling out a condom, he just stares into it quizzically.
"You don't have one?" she says, because otherwise he's in a trance or having a stroke and she's not betting on those options, even if this is a pretty surprising outcome, too. "How does that happen?"
"I am capable of forgetting to replenish." He drops his wallet to the floor. "I suppose we won't use one--"
She puts both hands on his chest, preventing his incoming kiss. "No."
"I know you've been consistent in taking your birth control."
"Yeah, but... You sleep with everyone."
"I can assure you, Lemon, that you're the only woman I'm currently sleeping with."
"But you've had a lot of sexual partners before me. A lot. When was the last time you checked yourself for STDs? You could have herpes and not know it. Herpes! Do you want to give me herpes?"
He tilts his head. "Do you honestly believe I have herpes?"
"Well... No. I don't *think* you do. But I can't have sex without a condom."
"You had sex with Dennis without a condom. Do you honestly trust a man who attempted to throw you under a train more than you trust me?"
"Two years ago, and that was not a proud moment. And he was kidding about throwing me in front of that train. Probably. Maybe. And I had sex with him before he tried to maybe throw me under a train. And trusting him to not have sex in the year we were broken up isn't *real* trust, so don't pull out the trust card." She grabs her underwear and pulls them up her legs. Jack's frown deepens. "You get everything checked out, and I will, too, because, for all I know, maybe I have herpes. I don't have herpes."
"That makes two of us."
"And then, after we get ourselves clean bills of health, we can think about being lax with the condoms in a pinch."
He picks his jacket and wallet up off the floor as she steps back into her shoes. "This is a highly disappointing end to this evening."
"I know."
He crosses his arms in front of him, seriously asserts: "You can't get an STD from my fingers, just as I can't get an STD from yours."
Liz was expecting something different, though she doesn't know what, and she scrunches up her face in response.
"I'm not lying to you."
"I didn't think you were lying. I just... even you're not usually so super serious about... you know." She doesn't like any of the words/phrases that could be used to talk about what he's referencing. She picks up her purse, shoving her pantyhose inside it. "I'll think about it if we get stuck in traffic on the way to your place."
He nods. "Fair enough." He pauses. "I'd know if I had herpes--"
"Okay, okay. I know you don't have herpes. But I'm sticking to my guns."
"You've never seen a sore--"
"Jack--"
"I've never made love to Paris Hilton--"
"I guess you read about that storage locker, too--"
"I always use condoms--"
"You just wanted to not use one!"
"You're not a one-night-stand. And, even if I did have herpes, I'm not currently having an outbreak, as you can attest considering you recently--"
"Dude, seriously," she says, pushing the emergency stop button back in, "I'm not changing my mind."
There's silence as they make their way to the ground floor. As the elevator opens, Jack says, "Keep my fingers in mind."
She exhales; nods. "Will do."
END