elrhiarhodan (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
elrhiarhodan) wrote2015-05-02 08:09 am
elrhiarhodan) wrote2015-05-02 08:09 am
CA: TWS Ficlet - Morning Run
Title: Morning Run
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
elrhiarhodan
Fandom: Captain America - The Winter Soldier
Written For: MMOM 2015
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers, Sam/Reilly, Sam/Steve
Spoilers: None
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: Reference to canon death of canon character.
Word Count: 425
Summary: The morning after that run, Sam wakes up hot and hard and aching. It's been a long time since that had happened.
A/N: First Captain America fic, first MCU fic. Oh, well.
__________________
It had been a long time since he'd woke with his hand down his pants and a hard dick in his fist. Watching your lover die right before your eyes had a way of fucking things up.
It wasn't like he'd been a eunuch since Reilly was killed, but desire wasn't spontaneous. Since he'd been home, he'd usually just rub one off in the shower - as much a part of his daily routine as brushing his teeth or shaving. It felt good for a few minutes, then he'd rinse off and start his day.
But yesterday's run around the Tidal Basin seemed to spark something in him. Okay, it wasn't the run, it was his momentary companion. Steve Rogers. Captain-fucking-America. For a few seconds, he'd have a prime view of the greatest ass in the country. And then Rogers would disappear into the morning mist, his pace never changing.
Sam had kept going, day-dreaming about that ass. Those thighs. Those shoulders. Which was ridiculous because how the hell could he run with a hard-on? So he'd packed the thoughts away and …
"On your left."
All his good intentions were shattered. The morning light illuminated that ass. Those thighs. Those shoulders. He'd growled in frustration and sped up. His legs and calves and heart needed the blood. Not his dick.
To his embarrassment, he'd lasted another ten steps before veering off the path and collapsing against a tree.
Rogers had stopped and they talked, and Sam managed not to make a fool of himself. Even when the Captain held out a hand and helped him up.
The moment was surreal, something that he still wasn't quite sure actually happened. He managed not to strangle himself with his own awe (even before New York, even before the big, star-spangled exhibition at the Smithsonian, Sam had been a little more than a fan). Yes, the moment was surreal, but it was ordinary too - they were simply two soldiers comparing notes about life back in the world.
Except that Steve Rogers was Captain America, the greatest soldier who ever lived and he was Sam Wilson, former para-rescue, and still grieving for his wingman, his partner, his best friend and lover.
His body, though, had other ideas. His dick was hard and hot and in this half-wakeful, half-dreaming state, he saw the most perfect ass in the world receding into the early morning mist and it felt good.
FIN
Author:
elrhiarhodanFandom: Captain America - The Winter Soldier
Written For: MMOM 2015
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers, Sam/Reilly, Sam/Steve
Spoilers: None
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: Reference to canon death of canon character.
Word Count: 425
Summary: The morning after that run, Sam wakes up hot and hard and aching. It's been a long time since that had happened.
A/N: First Captain America fic, first MCU fic. Oh, well.
It had been a long time since he'd woke with his hand down his pants and a hard dick in his fist. Watching your lover die right before your eyes had a way of fucking things up.
It wasn't like he'd been a eunuch since Reilly was killed, but desire wasn't spontaneous. Since he'd been home, he'd usually just rub one off in the shower - as much a part of his daily routine as brushing his teeth or shaving. It felt good for a few minutes, then he'd rinse off and start his day.
But yesterday's run around the Tidal Basin seemed to spark something in him. Okay, it wasn't the run, it was his momentary companion. Steve Rogers. Captain-fucking-America. For a few seconds, he'd have a prime view of the greatest ass in the country. And then Rogers would disappear into the morning mist, his pace never changing.
Sam had kept going, day-dreaming about that ass. Those thighs. Those shoulders. Which was ridiculous because how the hell could he run with a hard-on? So he'd packed the thoughts away and …
"On your left."
All his good intentions were shattered. The morning light illuminated that ass. Those thighs. Those shoulders. He'd growled in frustration and sped up. His legs and calves and heart needed the blood. Not his dick.
To his embarrassment, he'd lasted another ten steps before veering off the path and collapsing against a tree.
Rogers had stopped and they talked, and Sam managed not to make a fool of himself. Even when the Captain held out a hand and helped him up.
The moment was surreal, something that he still wasn't quite sure actually happened. He managed not to strangle himself with his own awe (even before New York, even before the big, star-spangled exhibition at the Smithsonian, Sam had been a little more than a fan). Yes, the moment was surreal, but it was ordinary too - they were simply two soldiers comparing notes about life back in the world.
Except that Steve Rogers was Captain America, the greatest soldier who ever lived and he was Sam Wilson, former para-rescue, and still grieving for his wingman, his partner, his best friend and lover.
His body, though, had other ideas. His dick was hard and hot and in this half-wakeful, half-dreaming state, he saw the most perfect ass in the world receding into the early morning mist and it felt good.
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I don't know if I'm going to fall deep into this fandom, but writing for MMOM seems like a good way to explore some of the nuances of the relationships.
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