Snow (sweptawaybayou) wrote,

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RPS Ficathon Winners!!!

The winning stories of kita0610's RPS Ficathon have been posted! And they are marvelous!

Congratulations to all three winners!



and theantijoss!!

You all rock. Hard.

And big juicy thanks go to Kita for holding such a fun, creative ficathon!

*kisses her*

This was my entry. . .as if anyone had to ask! Ha!


~ A warm, dry wind on the lee side of a mountain range, whose temperature is increased as the wind descends the slope.

Another Not For Profit Venture by Snow
David Boreanaz and Hugh Jackman RPS
Not Real People. Not Real Situations.
Patiently Beta’d by ViciousWishes and
Encouraged by Tesla321

David could not remember when they had first met. He did not know where it had happened. They had run into each other over the last five years at too many different public and private events. It all tended to blend together in a mix of perfume and lights, glittering jewels, fake smiles, inane chatter. David never checked out who was invited. He preferred instead to get the sudden electric shock of finding Hugh’s warm brown eyes watching him. Accidentally bumping into the taller man's shoulder at a crowded bar and feeling the heat when Hugh would turn to him, his lips curled up in a knowing smile. David would grin and nod, then move away before either of them could say a word. Both escorted their shining, blonde, Barbie-like wives everywhere. They spoke with reporters and fans in glowing terms of their young sons, their work, their dreams about the future.

Although they never talked to each other, David knew the connection was there. It was there in the way that they unconsciously mirrored each other, movement for movement. It was there when laughing at a joke David did not find humorous, told by a person he could not stand, he would lift his head above the crowd and automatically look for the Australian. Watch the brown hair that fell in Hugh’s eyes as he nodded at some random comment from the people that surrounded him. Hugh always caught his stare, as if he were sure at that moment, David would be looking straight at him. David had not experienced this feeling for anyone in such a long time. The need to be in the same place, the desire that welled up inside with the eye contact, the silent flirting. It was a hidden, painful ache. It was high school, first dates and lust.

The call finally came on a drowsy Sunday afternoon. David had spent the morning on the golf course with his usual fiercely competitive foursome, and now he relaxed in his den, flipping through the sports channels without much interest. The telephone rang repeatedly, and he scowled, as he got up out of his comfortable leather chair to answer it. His wife never answered telephone calls, even if she was alone in the house. She claimed it made her appear too anxious for jobs and preferred to pay an answering service, collecting messages several times during the day when David was gone. Although it had been so long since she actually worked, David thought perhaps she should start looking anxious. It might help.

“I’m in town, alone. Fairmont Miramar, suite 350.”

The strong accent snaked through the line. David was not surprised, but astonished at how quickly his body responded to his voice. Uncomfortable in his jeans before he had even gotten to his car. He shouted an excuse at his wife from the front door. He was out of the driveway and down the street before she even realized he was gone.


David stood in the large, luxuriously appointed suite, looking at everything and at nothing. His eyes darted around the room, refusing to settle on the other man’s face. Doing that would solidify the moment; make this real. Hugh had poured drinks, and they sat across from each other on small couches, an oak coffee table separating them. David held his glass too tightly, drank it too quickly.

There was small talk about current work, family, future projects. Hugh laughed easily at his own stories and anecdotes. The balcony doors were open and a breeze blew into the room, stirred the air between them.

“Want more?”


David was caught by the way the denim of Hugh’s jeans defined his muscular thighs as he bent toward him and took the glass from his hand. Their fingers brushed, small electric charges. Hugh moved with a dancer’s grace and thoughtfulness, and David had to stand up and make some adjustments of his own pants. Suddenly they were too tight. His face too warm, his control too shaky. He walked over to the balcony and glanced out at the evening’s dark, blue sky, looking for a distraction, trying to breathe.


He turned back. Hugh leaned against the bar, holding his fresh drink. David crossed the room, reached his hand out. Hugh did not let go, forcing David to look at him.

“Do you want this?”

He knew that Hugh did not mean the drink.


Hugh smiled and let go.

“Then act like it.”

He leaned forward, closing the short distance between them. His lips touched David’s mouth softly. Then he pulled back.


David let himself smile and it felt odd, as if he had forgotten how.

“That’s better.”

“It’s just been a long time since, since I felt this –“

“This what?”

Hugh leaned in again. His kiss longer, holding more promise.



David’s sigh escaped him in a hiss.

Hugh’s hands were holding his head, his own drink forgotten on the bar. Lights flashed behind David’s closed eyes as he opened his mouth. Enjoying the strange and completely wonderful feeling of being kissed instead of kissing, the scrape of a day’s growth stubble on chin against chin, sharp taste of whiskey and popcorn, and clean smells of after-shave and cologne. Strong fingers that pulled him closer, and the hazel eyes that met his when they stopped.

“Come on.”

Hugh took his own drink and the bottle of whiskey into the suite’s bedroom and David followed him, shutting the door behind them. Here, the windows were closed. The sound of traffic muffled and faint. The curtain only slightly opened, casting a soft glow of bright city lights into the dim room. David heard the quiet clink of glass hitting wood as Hugh set the bottle and his drink down on the nightstand. David took a long swallow from his own, closed he eyes as he drained it. When he opened them, Hugh was standing in front of him. Without looking, he put the empty glass down on the nearest surface. Hugh did not move. His expression serene, but his eyes . . . the heat from his eyes burnt.

“I’ve been watching you for so long.”

Hugh whispered, still not moving, still staring.

“I’ve been wanting you for so long.”

David knew the next action was his. That Hugh was giving him a choice. David reached up and touched Hugh’s face with his fingertips, tracing his cheekbones, his jaw line. He took the last step that separated them. Then he kissed Hugh. He kissed him like Hugh’s mouth was oxygen and David was drowning, hard, sucking, teeth and tongue. He felt Hugh’s hands on his hips, pulling him in tightly. And still there was the initial shock of a solid body against him. The bump and grind of a swollen cock pressed against his own. Shoulders that touched a little higher than his, arms that rounded in matching strength, matching muscles.

“Take this off.”

Hugh gave David’s shirt a tug, want thickening his voice.

“If you don’t, I will, and I will tear it.”

David crossed his arms, grabbed the ends of his polo shirt and pulled it over his head. He threw it to the floor. Hugh moved behind him, his hands slid up David’s smooth chest, found his nipples. His fingers tugged at them, and bolts of lightening went through David.


Then Hugh’s lips were on his neck. Breath warm on his skin as he moved down David’s spine, tasted his skin, felt the muscles quiver under his tongue. Still on his knees, Hugh moved back around to the front of David. His fingers unbuttoning David’s jeans, kissing each inch of skin that was revealed, laughing softly as he found no underwear. Nothing between him and the hard cock that sprang to attention in front of him. He let David’s pants sink to his ankles, wrapped hands around thighs and sucked David’s cock in, let it bump the back of his throat.

David braced himself, his feet spread apart. Hugh’s mouth was warm and wet. He could feel the pull and squeeze of lips, the lap of tongue, the scrape of teeth. David fought, then lost to the urge to put his hands on Hugh’s head, curl fingers in hair, follow the back and forth motions. He shuddered as the tide rose in him, unexpectedly fast, an undeniable rush.

“Not yet.”

David whispered. Hugh looked up at him, a smile playing on his lips, dimpling into his cheeks. He stood up and pulled his own shirt off. David kicked out of his pants, then moved toward Hugh, his fingers catching the top of his jeans, pulling him closer again, so that their bare chests touched, bumped, rubbed. David snatched Hugh’s lips with his teeth. Tongue fucked his mouth, deep, wet. He backed Hugh to the edge of the bed, unbuttoning his jeans, reaching inside. His touch was rough and hard, insistent. David closed his fist around Hugh’s cock, pulled at it from the root. Smiled at the involuntary groans that slipped out of Hugh. David’s lips moved from Hugh’s mouth to breathe in his ear.

“This what you were waiting for?”

He pushed Hugh down on the bed, leaned over him and held his arms down against the mattress with his weight. He bit and kissed and licked. Moved from neck to nipple to nipple, rubbing his face in the soft fur that covered his chest. He followed the trail down to the head of Hugh’s pulsing cock, then caught it, very gently, with his teeth. His tongue teased the slit, and Hugh’s hips strained up to meet him. David pushed the index and middle fingers of one hand into Hugh’s mouth, continued to swirl his tongue around the head of Hugh’s cock. Captivated by the salty sweet flavor, at the hard suction around his fingers, his own hips moved in the air hungrily. He pulled his fingers out of Hugh’s mouth.

“Got lube?”

He watched Hugh reach under a pillow. Hugh coated David’s held out hand liberally.

“The second time’s for gentleness. The first time’s for hard, rough,”

David slipped two fingers into Hugh, fast and deep, his voice a low growl.

“Right-now fucking.”

He moved his index finger against Hugh’s prostate gland, pushed against it from the outside with his thumb.

“You okay with that?”

Not waiting for a reply, David wrapped his lips back around Hugh’s cock and sucked it deep into his mouth. He matched each pull with an invasive thrust into Hugh with his fingers, listening to the sounds that his motions had invoked. He felt Hugh’s hands on his shoulders, digging into him. David was in love with Hugh’s taste, his moans and whispers, the tight clenching spasms from the inside. When he saw the tremble in Hugh’s arms, the quiver begin in his thighs, he took his mouth and hand away. He pushed Hugh’s knees apart, spread him wide, using his position on the edge of the bed to slam into Hugh. He clamped his lips down on the Australian’s mouth, swallowed his curses. Gasped into the words as he pushed his cock deeper in Hugh’s slick, tight hole. David pulled back up to gain leverage, to draw completely out each time.

They did not close their eyes. Let the sweat drip and sting, unable to turn away from the face in front of them. Hugh’s smile gone, his lips pulled back from his teeth. David knew that he was mixing pain with pleasure but did not, could not stop. First times were for bruises and weak knees, for daydreams that caused hard-ons. David abruptly changed his angle to an upward stroke and took Hugh’s cock in his lube-glazed palm, fisted it tightly, pulling and squeezing, forcing Hugh to move to his rhythm.

David let the tide carry him this time, shuddering, trembling, muscles tight, blood pumping, heart racing. Felt the heat on his skin of Hugh coming, spattering his chest. Hugh pushed up against him, begging to be kissed. Short, fast breathes on David’s neck, moans in his ear. David framed Hugh’s face with his wet palm and ravished his mouth, softly this time, gently. Tender, baby kisses on bruised lips with closed eyes.

Then they collapsed down, tangled together, legs and arms, and the sound of Hugh’s laughter filling the silence.

“I was supposed to be on top. I’ve been seducing you.”

David stretched. He reached up to the headboard, the pillows, and the lube, a comfortable smile on his face.

“Maybe next time.”

The End

Tags: david boreanaz, fic, hugh jackman, rps
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