Challenge #7: Rare Pairings
Title: Once And For All
Author: Beckie Gloom
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Sam Bayer/John Roecker
Disclaimer: I do not own, and am not in any way affiliated with, Sam Bayer or John Roecker. The characters and events in this work of fanfiction are not intended in any way to represent the real persons or any real events in their lives, and no offence or libel is intended.
Notes: It is an homage to my immaturity that I was actually willing to sit down for two hours of my life and write this. This is the culmination of a plot bunny that I've been ignoring for several weeks, and is presented un-beta'd, so I can get back to the stuff I was meant to be working on while I was doing this. XD
"You awake?"
The question was accompanied - and, indeed, rendered irrelevant - by a none-too-gentle poke in the ribs. John groaned and rolled over onto his side, kicking out in the vague direction of his tormentor. "Leeme 'lone." He pulled the covers up around his ears.
"Ain't what you said last night," Sam retorted, his voice thick with barely suppressed glee at the opportunity to actually use that ancient cliché in conversation.
John half-opened one eye and glared up at him. "How old're you - twelve?" he muttered - and then the full weight of the situation hit him like a ton of bricks, or something even less pleasant.
"You better hope not," Sam snorted. "Or else Child Services'll be on your ass like… well, kinda like I was last night, as a matter of fact," he added with a smirk, his words almost drowned out by John's loud groan of disgust. "Only I don't expect you'll be begging them to do it a second time 'round."
"I do not beg," John grumbled irritably, working himself into a sitting position, propped up against the pillows. "You seen my pants?"
"Why? You in a hurry to be somewhere?"
John shook his head. "Cigarettes're in my pocket," he explained resignedly.
"Right." Sam glanced idly around the room, which seemed to be carpeted entirely with rumpled and discarded clothing. John sure as hell couldn't tell what belonged to who; and yet somehow Sam, with unerring ability, managed to locate and retrieve the item in question without even getting off of the bed.
John reached for the pants, only to have them held out of his reach while Sam dug through the pockets, eventually emerging with the crumpled packet of cigarettes clutched in one hand, along with John's lighter.
"Finder's fee," he explained, shaking one out of the pack and lighting it before handing the rest to John, who snatched them away wordlessly.
They sat and smoked in silence for a few moments. The more John thought about it, the more he understood that - no matter how coolly he played it - this was going to turn out to be the most awkward, painfully embarrassing morning of his adult life. He was half-tempted to make a vow never to drink again, but he knew it would be pointless - if anything, he could probably expect to double his alcohol intake over the next couple of weeks, if it numbed the inevitable humiliation of Sam gloating about… this, to all of their mutual friends and colleagues.
"So what's worse for you?" Sam asked lazily after several minutes. "That we fucked or that you were on the bottom?"
"Fuck off," John growled.
"So the second one?"
"Go fuck yourself," he muttered sullenly, slumping back against the pillows in what might have been misread as a gesture of defeat. He stubbed the smouldering remains of his cigarette out into a coffee mug that had been left on the bedside table - probably a long time ago, judging by the mould growing around the rim. "You got anything that passes for breakfast around here?"
Sam shook his head. "Aren't you forgetting something?"
John frowned. "What?"
"Please tell me," Sam said, smiling in a way that was all too darkly amused for John's liking, "That you weren't so far gone last night you can't even remember how we ended up here in the first place."
"Wha… oh." John furiously fought back the blush that threatened to seep over his face. He did remember some of it… a bar bet. A motherfucking bar bet? That was the reason things had gotten so far out of hand? "Oh, god…"
"See, you do remember," Sam said, smiling encouragingly and giving John's shoulder an unusually friendly squeeze - but then again, he knew as well as John did what was going to happen next. "And I think there was a little matter of fifty dollars to attend to?"
"No…" John whined - hating how high-pitched and unhappy he sounded, but unable to do a thing about it.
"Yes," Sam replied, in a firm, no-bullshit-now tone of voice. "Now, come on, Johnny, a gentlemen's agreement has gotta be honoured. And I ain't even seen you naked in the light yet."
John mumbled a few more weak protestations but, ultimately, did nothing to prevent Sam from tugging the bed sheets out from where he'd tucked them defensively under his armpits; pulling them down until they pooled around their legs, leaving both of them effectively naked from the knees upwards. He resisted the urge to curl in on himself as Sam's eyes travelled up and down his body, not wanting to appear any more like a shy little virgin under Sam's judging gaze.
After a few moments, Sam let out a laugh. "Closer call than I would've expected, John," he said, with something that sounded a little like approval. "Good for you." Suddenly he was moving, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing up.
"What? Where're you going?" John called after him as he headed for the door.
Sam paused in the doorway, turned, and shot him a grin. "I'm gonna go find us a ruler," he replied. "See if we can't settle this thing once and for all."
Author: Beckie Gloom
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Sam Bayer/John Roecker
Disclaimer: I do not own, and am not in any way affiliated with, Sam Bayer or John Roecker. The characters and events in this work of fanfiction are not intended in any way to represent the real persons or any real events in their lives, and no offence or libel is intended.
Notes: It is an homage to my immaturity that I was actually willing to sit down for two hours of my life and write this. This is the culmination of a plot bunny that I've been ignoring for several weeks, and is presented un-beta'd, so I can get back to the stuff I was meant to be working on while I was doing this. XD
"You awake?"
The question was accompanied - and, indeed, rendered irrelevant - by a none-too-gentle poke in the ribs. John groaned and rolled over onto his side, kicking out in the vague direction of his tormentor. "Leeme 'lone." He pulled the covers up around his ears.
"Ain't what you said last night," Sam retorted, his voice thick with barely suppressed glee at the opportunity to actually use that ancient cliché in conversation.
John half-opened one eye and glared up at him. "How old're you - twelve?" he muttered - and then the full weight of the situation hit him like a ton of bricks, or something even less pleasant.
"You better hope not," Sam snorted. "Or else Child Services'll be on your ass like… well, kinda like I was last night, as a matter of fact," he added with a smirk, his words almost drowned out by John's loud groan of disgust. "Only I don't expect you'll be begging them to do it a second time 'round."
"I do not beg," John grumbled irritably, working himself into a sitting position, propped up against the pillows. "You seen my pants?"
"Why? You in a hurry to be somewhere?"
John shook his head. "Cigarettes're in my pocket," he explained resignedly.
"Right." Sam glanced idly around the room, which seemed to be carpeted entirely with rumpled and discarded clothing. John sure as hell couldn't tell what belonged to who; and yet somehow Sam, with unerring ability, managed to locate and retrieve the item in question without even getting off of the bed.
John reached for the pants, only to have them held out of his reach while Sam dug through the pockets, eventually emerging with the crumpled packet of cigarettes clutched in one hand, along with John's lighter.
"Finder's fee," he explained, shaking one out of the pack and lighting it before handing the rest to John, who snatched them away wordlessly.
They sat and smoked in silence for a few moments. The more John thought about it, the more he understood that - no matter how coolly he played it - this was going to turn out to be the most awkward, painfully embarrassing morning of his adult life. He was half-tempted to make a vow never to drink again, but he knew it would be pointless - if anything, he could probably expect to double his alcohol intake over the next couple of weeks, if it numbed the inevitable humiliation of Sam gloating about… this, to all of their mutual friends and colleagues.
"So what's worse for you?" Sam asked lazily after several minutes. "That we fucked or that you were on the bottom?"
"Fuck off," John growled.
"So the second one?"
"Go fuck yourself," he muttered sullenly, slumping back against the pillows in what might have been misread as a gesture of defeat. He stubbed the smouldering remains of his cigarette out into a coffee mug that had been left on the bedside table - probably a long time ago, judging by the mould growing around the rim. "You got anything that passes for breakfast around here?"
Sam shook his head. "Aren't you forgetting something?"
John frowned. "What?"
"Please tell me," Sam said, smiling in a way that was all too darkly amused for John's liking, "That you weren't so far gone last night you can't even remember how we ended up here in the first place."
"Wha… oh." John furiously fought back the blush that threatened to seep over his face. He did remember some of it… a bar bet. A motherfucking bar bet? That was the reason things had gotten so far out of hand? "Oh, god…"
"See, you do remember," Sam said, smiling encouragingly and giving John's shoulder an unusually friendly squeeze - but then again, he knew as well as John did what was going to happen next. "And I think there was a little matter of fifty dollars to attend to?"
"No…" John whined - hating how high-pitched and unhappy he sounded, but unable to do a thing about it.
"Yes," Sam replied, in a firm, no-bullshit-now tone of voice. "Now, come on, Johnny, a gentlemen's agreement has gotta be honoured. And I ain't even seen you naked in the light yet."
John mumbled a few more weak protestations but, ultimately, did nothing to prevent Sam from tugging the bed sheets out from where he'd tucked them defensively under his armpits; pulling them down until they pooled around their legs, leaving both of them effectively naked from the knees upwards. He resisted the urge to curl in on himself as Sam's eyes travelled up and down his body, not wanting to appear any more like a shy little virgin under Sam's judging gaze.
After a few moments, Sam let out a laugh. "Closer call than I would've expected, John," he said, with something that sounded a little like approval. "Good for you." Suddenly he was moving, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing up.
"What? Where're you going?" John called after him as he headed for the door.
Sam paused in the doorway, turned, and shot him a grin. "I'm gonna go find us a ruler," he replied. "See if we can't settle this thing once and for all."