[ Sky – Master Post ]
Title: Split the Sky in Two
Characters: Sin, Sebastian
Warnings: Smut. And then? More smut. Smutty smut with a side of smut, interrupted by some momentary SRS BIZNSS.
Notes: I’ve been trying to write this since … uh … I dunno, it’s been almost a year, I think. Kept stalling out. But, then ANdiLoveCat asked for some more Sin/Sebastian smut, to compensate for her lack of post-surgical morphine, and I cranked out another 2500 words.
"Sin, I’m grading papers." Sebastian pushed his greasy hair back from his face, but didn’t look up from the pages under his pen.
"Tell me something I don’t know," Singularity laughed, from under the table, fingers still busy with Sebastian’s pants. "Don’t worry, your attention is not requisite, at this time. I have everything I need, right here."
Sebastian’s fingers tightened around his pen, as he looked down, between his chest and the table, catching Singularity’s eye. "If you keep using words like ‘requisite’, you’ll have my attention, whether you want it, or not. I wish you wouldn’t remind me of how literate you are, while I’m working. It makes it that much harder to avoid writing inappropriately irate things on my students’ work."
Sin’s hands laid open the fly of Sebastian’s pants, and he licked a stripe along the lukewarm and thoroughly unimpressed flesh, beneath. "Define ‘inappropriate’. You haven’t threatened any of them, have you? And I know you’re much better about expletives with your pen than with your tongue."
"This is not a paper, it’s a pile of words?" Sebastian quoted through his teeth, as Sin nuzzled the base of his cock.
"It was a perfectly accurate description of the article, in question," Singularity protested, as his hands settled on Sebastian’s hips, and he brought his cheek to bear against the exposed flesh. "But, I think," he breathed against Sebastian’s skin, "that my favourite was the student who failed to notice that ‘enter’ is not spelled with an ‘i’."
"The one who ‘interred’ the room?" Sebastian muttered, still scrawling commentary in the margin.
"The very one." Singularity slipped his tongue under Sebastian’s foreskin, licking just once at the skin beneath. "Stop talking and keep grading. You know I’m no good at keeping up a conversation, with my mouth full."
Sebastian grunted, half-heartedly, as Sin’s lips closed around him. The knuckles of his empty hand cracked, loudly, as he inscribed more bold red lines upon the page. Comma splice. Full stop, space, cap. New sentence. The muscles of his right thigh twitched impatiently and erratically as Sin began to prove precisely how flexible and precise a tongue could be. Sentence fragment, he scratched out, amused at the irony of answering one with another. There was no verb in that sentence.
Sin’s tongue flexed and, a feat of cautious suction later, Sebastian’s still mostly disinterested flesh brushed against the back of his soft palate. Pressing his tongue up, firmly, he hummed, contentedly. Sebastian smacked his knee on the underside of the table and, after some colourful expletives, slipped his toes under the back of Sin’s shirt. Sin giggled warmly, and Sebastian bent his grading pen in half.
This is not typed. Thus, I will not grade it. +0 Sebastian dragged his tensed foot down Sin’s thigh, as he slapped the handwritten paper onto the finished pile. He cracked his knuckles again, snarling unconsciously, before he grabbed the next paper and attacked it with his pen. So close, but so far. Possessive pronouns do not take an apostrophe. He could feel the swelling beginning in his flesh, the pressure of his body asserting its form against Sin’s lips and tongue.
That word does not mean what you think it means. Go consult
the OEDWebster’s. He’d decided there were really only two options in his life. He could keep teaching, or he could go back to school. He could either be surrounded by the placidly stupid or the pompously intellectual — who weren’t necessarily less stupid. He slammed the paper down on the pile and stopped just short of throwing his bent pen across the room. With a gasp, he squirmed a little too comfortably between Sin’s face and the seat of the chair. For all that he loved the man, Sin didn’t make it any easier to like other people. In fact, Sin spoiled him witless, driving down his tolerances for the less brilliant. If it weren’t for the way Sin worshipped his body and encouraged his rants — even in bed, which was really quite entertaining — his beloved historian would have driven him to think that much less of even himself.
Sebastian grabbed the next paper, a flash of colour creeping across his cheeks, as his handwriting became even tighter and more precise in response to the incredibly distracting goings-on, beneath the table. ‘Irregardless’ is not a word. This really wasn’t what he wanted, but he didn’t have the time to throw Sin on the floor and enjoy him, properly. He had work to do. Not that Sin didn’t have work to do — in fact, Sin had been awake for most of three days, typing and cursing and throwing books. Sebastian couldn’t understand how Sin could possibly think of sex at all, right now, but here they were, and he was quite certain he wasn’t supposed to be complaining.
Your spellcheck is not always right. ‘Melee’ != ‘merely’. Under the table, Sin gagged. Sebastian dropped his pen and writhed, a light sweat breaking out across his forehead. He clutched at the table with both hands, heel tapping against the floor as his leg twitched. Sin’s thumbs pressed into the tops of Sebastian’s thighs, and the teacher failed to pick up his pen, fumbling it twice, before he could focus. One hand still held the corner of the table in a painfully-tight grip, and Sebastian could hear his teeth grind as he set his jaw, picked up the pen, and forced himself to take the next essay off the top of the unfinished pile.
Sin sucked hard and swallowed, a few times, and Sebastian’s knee slammed into the underside of the table, again. "Fuck shit ass goddamn hell-blight," Sebastian snarled, and Sin hummed, inquisitively, without opening his mouth.
This time, Sebastian did throw the pen across the room. "Get up," he demanded. "Get up, right now. I cannot work under these conditions, and I will not work under them."
Sin whined, disappointedly, and slowly folded himself out from under the table. "Aww, you’re no fun, tonight."
Sebastian stood up, mere inches from where Sin towered over him. "Get in the bedroom and take off your clothes — no, just take off your clothes — so I can satisfy your deranged and sleep-deprived lusts — the ones you’ve just goddamn inflicted on me," he pointed, to great effect, "and then you can go to sleep, and I can go back to work. Speaking of work, I have a class in the morning. And these papers need to be graded."
"I have a seven A.M.," Sin reminded him, dropping his shirt on the floor.
"Oh, shit, it’s Wednesday, isn’t it?" Wrapping an arm around Sin’s waist, Sebastian kissed his collarbone, softly. "Why do you do this to yourself?"
"I could ask you the same thing. You’re the one who taught me that sleep was optional." Sin’s pants hit the floor.
"Yes, but you see where that gets me. Besides, you should sleep. I can’t sleep. It’s a completely different circumstance."
Sin smiled, mischievously, and kissed the top of Sebastian’s head. "So, come make me tired. Wear me down. Give me sweet dreams."
Sebastian leaned back and looked up, calculatingly. "How much do you weigh?"
"I dunno. I’ve been losing weight. Probably one-sixty." Sin shrugged. "Why?"
"Do me a favour and miss the table," Sebastian requested, throwing Sin over his shoulder. When he didn’t hear the telltale thud of a head meeting wood, he stalked off toward the bedroom. Sin had lost a lot of weight, and Sebastian knew that meant he’d failed to hold up his end of things. He was supposed to be making sure that Sin remembered to eat. It was another reminder of why he hadn’t stayed in academia.
Leaning forward, Sebastian spilled Sin across the bed. The historian looked thin and worn, his coppery hair spread out around him, as he reached out, inviting Sebastian to join him. Sebastian stripped, throwing his clothes toward the hamper, and sat down on the edge of the bed.
"Tell me what you want from me," Sebastian said, softly, trying to keep the creeping guilt from his face.
"You," Sin replied, pulling Sebastian down, beside him. "I just want you. I haven’t seen you in days — just the cold food you brought hours before, when I finally looked up from my damned dissertation. I’ve been ignoring you, and you’ve just been taking it. You’ve been like a ghost."
Sebastian shrugged and looked away. "I punched you in the face, when we still lived in Boston. More than once. You’re just a little distant."
"You’re the only other person in my world, goddammit. You deserve some fucking respect."
"I tell my students that on a regular basis, to little — if any — effect. I’m invisible, Sin. I always have been."
"Stop sneaking around, like you’re afraid to interrupt me! I want you to interrupt me! I have a pile of papers I was supposed to have graded, last week, that I still haven’t touched, because I’ve been writing… I can probably weasel out of it being an actual problem, but I can barely tell what day it is, any more." Sin rolled onto his side and tried to pull most of his hair out from under himself.
"It doesn’t matter what day it is," Sebastian asserted, finally. "What matters is that you haven’t been taking care of yourself, and I haven’t been taking care of you, either. I’m sorry. I didn’t think you wanted me to get in your way."
"You’re a pillar of good sense and practicality, Batty. Why wouldn’t I want you in my way? Tuesday afternoon, I thought I was getting sick. Turned out I had a sore throat, because I hadn’t had a glass of water since Monday morning. I need you to remind me that I can’t live in the past."
"And I need you to save me from myself. We’re a fucking disaster area." Sebastian sighed. "It’ll be better, next semester. Did you tell the assholes at Financial Aid that I’d be coming up there to inflict my wrath upon them, on your behalf?"
"Yeah, I know I did that. They’re expecting you. You need to take the paper that’s hanging on the fridge, though, or they won’t talk to you."
"Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it. I know the problem is just that you can charm the shit out of the people, but you can’t charm their computers. You handle the people, I’ll handle the paperwork. We’ll be fine. We’re just not having any more duck until that grant comes through."
Sin ran his hand down Sebastian’s side. "This is why you never get laid, any more, you know. Every time you get started, it turns into a tangent about serious things."
"I did say something about satisfying your deranged lusts, didn’t I?" Sebastian offered a lopsided grin.
"You did, indeed." Sin tossed his hair and rolled onto his back. He dragged a finger down the centre of Sebastian’s chest. "You’ve gone soft."
"You’re the one who started talking about ‘serious things’…" Sebastian retorted, moving to kneel across Sin’s hips. "It was quite distracting."
"Come down here. Your brains aren’t leaking out your ear, yet."
With a sharp laugh, Sebastian bent forward, folding his arms across Sin’s shoulders, perched like a cat, still playing with it’s food. "Kiss me, you fool."
"Hey, that’s my line!" Sin protested, yanking at Sebastian’s hair, before he rolled them both over and pressed Sebastian into the bed with his lips and his hips.
Sebastian moaned, quietly, wrapping himself around Sin. He pressed himself against the warm body above him, just wanting the world to stop for an hour or two, so he could have the time to enjoy this. Sin kissed him in the way he only rarely did — passionately, but forcefully. It was one of those rare times that Sin would admit what he wanted, and then take it.
Sin broke the kiss, nuzzling down against Sebastian’s ear, with a shallow gasp and a low moan. "Mmm, Sebastian… I missed you."
Sebastian knew it was too soon for Sin to be throwing his voice around like that, out of necessity, but neither he nor his body really cared much about the fact that Sin was willing to play hot to get what he wanted.
"I’m here," he breathed, hardening against Sin’s belly. "I’m yours."
"Show me," Sin breathed, licking his way down Sebastian’s neck and chest.
Stretching, Sebastian could just reach the drawer in the nightstand. He fished out the tube of KY, as Sin settled between his legs, again, tongue teasing the very tip of his cock. One of Sebastian’s hands twisted the blanket and the other took careful aim, bouncing the tube off Sin’s forehead. Sin retaliated, pushing Sebastian’s over-large member as far into his mouth as he could and swallowing, and Sebastian arched off the bed, gasping. Purring in the back of his throat, Sin pushed Sebastian’s hips down and listened to the frustrated noises from the other side of the bed. Sebastian could feel his pulse reflected back from where Sin’s tongue pressed against him, and there was a ghost of a breeze, every time Sin dragged in a breath. His body tensed almost painfully, as he fought the urge to writhe and pant, to plead and thrust and beg. But, none of this stopped a yelp from escaping him, as Sin sucked hard enough to pull skin and moaned against the flesh in his mouth.
Sebastian was still trying to find all the parts of his body, when Sin crawled back up over him. Sin said something — probably something witty and sexy, but Sebastian just stared and blinked, for a few seconds. "What?"
"Oh, I’m sorry, was that your brain?" Sin licked his thumb and wiped it on Sebastian’s forehead.
"Yes. Yes, it was." A pale flush marked Sebastian’s cheeks, and his eyes were blown wide, bottomless black, instead of their usual cool grey. "Where’d the lube go? You should —"
"I did. You weren’t paying attention, at the time." Sin leaned down to kiss him.
"I’m not going to last," Sebastian apologised.
"I didn’t expect you to." Reaching under himself, Sin slid one hand down Sebastian’s cock, tightening the skin as he lined it up. "You don’t mind if I go on, if you go first?"
"Would I mind if you left me begging and screaming and completely fucked out of my wits? No, dear. Not in the least." His cock throbbed in Sin’s hand. "Think you’ve got it in you to get me twice?"
"No, not tonight. But, I think I can get you to go non-stop for half an hour." With a deep breath, Sin started to push down.
Sebastian’s eyes rolled back in his head, and he gripped the blanket with both hands, until the pressure let up. "You’re going to kill me, one of these days."
"We’ll kill each other. You’re still huge."
Sebastian flinched. "Sorry. Can’t help that."
Sin slid down in fits and starts. "Don’t ever apologise for that. I love you. All of you. I love that you fit so tight, I can feel your pulse in my teeth."
"Oh, god…" It was as close to coherent as Sebastian could manage. His hands settled on Sin’s thighs, and he rocked his hips, not quite thrusting, but almost grinding, gently. Sin was perfectly — Sebastian’s language skills failed him. Sin wasn’t really beautiful, but handsome didn’t do him justice, at times like these. He looked like sexuality, incarnate, even as he was: thin, tired, and unshaven. Sin rolled his hips, hard, and Sebastian whined, thinly.
"Careful…" Sebastian warned, trying to clear his head.
Sin leaned down, with a dizzy, wicked smile. "No," he breathed into Sebastian’s ear, before throwing his head back, as he sat up, and tightening possessively around Sebastian’s cock.
Sebastian ran through the names of all of his students, in his head, and then started to tally Shakespeare’s comedies, as Sin ground down against him, hips twisting in gloriously pleasurable ways. They’d always been careful about the thrusting, mostly because Sebastian was convinced he would actually seriously hurt Sin, if he tried, and Sin wasn’t too quick to disagree. They tended toward close and rough, more than fast and hard, so when Sin lifted himself up, almost, but not quite, off, a look of confusion flickered across Sebastian’s face. He opened his mouth to ask, but the words slid away, in a gasp. Sin made short, quick thrusts downward, taking only two or three inches — just enough to take the head all the way in, and then back to almost out. Sebastian saw stars. His entire body trembled, tensely, and he turned he face to the side, covering it with his arm. As his legs tensed and his back arched, Sin slammed down, fast and hard, and rolled his hips.
Sebastian lost contact with reality, and made contact with the world, in all his senses at once. Sin’s hair fluttered across his belly. The light from the hall, reflected off the back wall, was far too bright, burning disconnected polygons across his vision. Everything was so loud — his heart, his breathing, Sin’s breathing, the sound of flesh on flesh, skin on sheets, he might’ve howled, but he couldn’t quite connect the sound to anything else. Everything smelled wet and dark, a lush scent that should have been horrible, but wasn’t. He slid into the darkness, hexagonal flashes of light spangling the passage of his descent. And that was when he slammed back into the bed and his body, with a dull thump, as his arms flew out to brace the impact that wasn’t actually happening.
Above him, Sin was still bucking and grinding, one hand on Sebastian’s hip, the other on his own cock. Slowly, the feeling trickled back into Sebastian’s extremities, like molasses, gaining speed as it warmed. Every point of contact was turned up far too high. Every twist of Sin’s hips was an excruciating pleasure, and Sebastian was sure he was making pained sounds with every breath. But, more than anything, he was afraid Sin would stop.
Finally, with a sound of triumph, Sin spilled across Sebastian’s chest, and Sebastian breathed a despairing "No…" He sat up, pulling Sin to his chest, and tried to roll over onto Sin, but only managed to lie sideways, Sin still wrapped around him.
Sin laughed, breathily. "Still going?"
"Hurts to stop," Sebastian muttered back. "I’m too tired for this, and you should be, too."
Sin flexed, hard, and Sebastian moaned, warmly. "I am too tired for this. And if I keep doing that, you’re going to slip out."
"Mmm. I think I’m going to pass out, first. Do it again." Sin did so, falling into a pattern of squeezing tightly and languidly rolling his hips. Sebastian relaxed, completely, in his arms. "You’re lucky I’d get fired if I made you explain to my class why their papers aren’t graded."
"Tell them it was an unforeseen family emergency," Sin suggested. "It wouldn’t be lying, it would just be a creative interpretation of the facts at hand."
"The facts are most definitively nowhere near either of our hands."
"My ass and I think you should get a masters for the point you just made," Sin muttered into the pillow. "I’ll count last weekend as some thesis-quality material."
"Oh, sure, I’ll just tell people I got my BA in English and my MA in buggery. We all saw what good that didn’t for Oscar Wilde," Sebastian retorted, with a snort. "Oh, shit, I think I’m going to …"
"You can’t possibly be serious…" Sin glanced down, just as Sebastian rolled his hips and slipped out, with a dismayed groan. Unhooking his knee from Sebastian’s hip, Sin squeezed his thighs together, letting Sebastian rut between them for the few seconds it took him to finish, again.
"Twice," Sebastian complained, good-naturedly. "I thought we weren’t going for twice."
"I have no idea how you do that, for the record. If my ass wasn’t still sore, I’d ask you if you were sure you weren’t secretly a woman. No man goes twice, as fast as you do."
"No man has ever had his every waking orgasm with the sexiest creature on the face of the earth. I’m sure there’s a connection, there."
"Flatterer," Sin accused.
"Nymphomaniac," Sebastian retorted, nuzzling into Sin’s shoulder. ‘Unexpected circumstances’, he’d tell them, tomorrow. No one would really mind waiting one more day for a grade.