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[skidmo_fic]

All right, I promised a game for having 50 people watching the fic journal, so here's one I stole from misslucyjane:

28 flavors of Evan Lorne.

The rules:

You claim one prompt, I write a ficlet. Feel free to specify a pairing (canon or crossover!) you'd like to see, and I'll do the best I can to fulfill it.



1. naughty
2. happy
3. childlike
4. smudged and somewhat rumpled
5. angsty
6. horny
7. impetuous
8. excited
9. book-reading
10. dancing
11. jealous
12. captured
13. tied-up
14. kidnapped
15. caring
16. on his knees
17. obedient
18. losing his cherry claimed
19. shagged out
20. shocked
21. drunken
22. daring claimed
23. exploring
24. swimming in the buff
25. bath time
26. heterosexual
27. doing his best for interspecies relations
28. injured claimed

Comments

[love-jackianto.livejournal.com]

I would like 18. losing his cherry Lorne/Sheppard

Losing His Cherry

[skidmo-fic.livejournal.com]

“You were how old?” Sheppard asks, frowning as he sits up in bed.

“Fourteen,” Lorne says quietly.

It’s the sort of thing most guys would be smug about, he knows, but he can’t bring himself to be.

Sheppard leans back too casually and eyes Lorne with suspicion. “Uh-huh. Pull the other one.”

Lorne shrugs. “Whatever. You’re the one who asked.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I thought you’d tell me the truth. I told you about mine.”

Lorne sighs and shifts onto his side. “I was fourteen,” he begins, and Sheppard slides down to lay next to him again, stretching his long, lean body before settling in to listen. “I was visiting my granddad. He lived in Kentucky, and I used to go help him with the horses just about every summer. Trent lived down the road a ways, and Granddad hired him to help that summer too, ‘cause his arthritis was getting bad, and he couldn’t ride anymore.”

Sheppard’s fingers sliding along his hip make it hard for Lorne to concentrate, so he closes his eyes to help himself remember. He’d just started filling out, changing from a skinny, short boy to a compact, broad-chested man, but he was still just a kid, really.

“We were hanging out down by the creek one night after we mucked out the stalls, and it was hot, and we were sweaty and smelly, so we went for a swim.”

Sometimes, when he’s feeling particularly nostalgic, he still draws Trent as he remembers him that night, naked and wet and glistening in the moonlight.

“And after…” He hesitates. He and Sheppard don’t talk about stuff like this. Not stuff that’s real, that matters. They talk about football and mission schedules and whether or not they have time for a quickie before staff meeting.

But Sheppard asked, and he deserved an honest answer.

“After we were laying in the grass, drying off, and I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He looked so…perfect. And I just…blurted that out. I just looked at him and said, ‘You’re perfect.’ And he laughed, and I was so embarrassed and so angry that I didn’t know what else to do, so I kissed him.”

He’d been terrified. Wet and naked and sticking his tongue into another guy’s mouth. An older guy. An experienced guy.

“It was so different from what I’d done with girls.” It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t sweet. It was hard and desperate and fierce. “And when I stopped kissing him, I thought for sure he was going to deck me, but he just laughed again, and called me a sweet kid and kissed me back. And then…well, you know.”

Sheppard nods, and his fingers move gently up Lorne’s side, trailing along his shoulder and dipping into the hollow of his throat. “Did you see him again?”

“Not after that summer,” Lorne admits. He’d tried. He’d gone down to Trent’s parents’ house the next summer, almost as soon as he arrived, but Trent never came back. “He was a nice guy,” he says, because even now he feels like he should defend Trent’s honor. “He just wanted a summer fling, and I was there.”

Sometimes he wonders if that’s not why Sheppard is with him: because he’s there. And sometimes he wonders if the why of it matters at all.

Sheppard nods and slides his hand back behind Lorne’s neck and into his hair. “Sounds to me,” he murmurs, “like this Trent guy didn’t know a good thing when he had it.” He kisses Lorne then, soft and slow, not like their usual kisses, not like any kiss Lorne ever shared with Trent.

“And do you?” he can’t help asking.

“Yeah,” Sheppard says, resting his forehead against Lorne’s. “Yeah, I really think I do.”

Re: Losing His Cherry

[love-jackianto.livejournal.com]

I loved Lorne's backstory in this :D I also like how you used the prompt I picked.