misaffection (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
misaffection) wrote2010-12-09 05:56 am
misaffection) wrote2010-12-09 05:56 am
Entry tags:
Dark Star | Stargate SG1: Sam/Baal
Fandom: Stargate SG1
Characters: Sam Carter, Baal
Pairing: Sam/Baal
Rating: FRC
Word Count: 467
Summary: Sam knows her relationship with Baal is not exactly normal.
Sam knows her relationship with Baal is... well, not exactly normal. Far from it, if she's honest. But then, if she's honest, she's long past caring what others think: for all the arguments, for all the snarky comments, the insults, the fact she wants to hit him at least once a day, it somehow works.
When she thinks about it, which isn't often because it makes her head hurt, she knows it comes down to the limits. They both know where the defining lines fall, how far they can take things before having to reel it in. And yes, they push to those limits. Frequently and usually very loudly, and she's lost count of the times armed personnel have charged in because it's gotten to the stage of throwing things. But despite appearances, there is always an element of control.
Because she knows him.
When the smirk vanishes, when he goes very still, when he uses that flat voice, she knows to quit. He doesn't do it often, but then he doesn't need to. But when he does, she always obeys. Not because she's afraid, but because she knows that everyone has their limits and though skirting danger is fun and often ends in very hot sex, too much will break something she wants whole.
Sometimes she wonders what her own signals are. She's not aware of giving them off, but she must do because he knows when to stop too. Usually just as it's getting too much, too close to the bone, when she's sure the next word will break her. She's seen it happen; that brief flicker in his eyes, the swallow as he pulls back from the fatal blow.
And sometimes she wonders what will happen if they push too hard. If she fails to heed the warning signs, if he misses the cracks in her composure. It scares her how addicted to the danger she's become, to the sharp edge of pain that comes just before the heat of comfort. Sometimes she realises exactly what she is doing and whom she's doing it with, and wonders if she's completely insane.
But then...
But then he will stop. And he'll touch her more gently than she once believed possible. And the light in his eyes will have nothing to do with what lies inside. And he'll pull her in, her own personal black hole; as irresistible as gravity, as hot as the sun, as needful as oxygen.
And there are times when she thinks she can't take it any more, but then there are those when it's not enough and she needs more. When she's screaming for it to stop, for him not to, clawing desperately for purchase on something closer to normality, sobbing as she fails, falls.
To be caught in his arms.
Characters: Sam Carter, Baal
Pairing: Sam/Baal
Rating: FRC
Word Count: 467
Summary: Sam knows her relationship with Baal is not exactly normal.
Sam knows her relationship with Baal is... well, not exactly normal. Far from it, if she's honest. But then, if she's honest, she's long past caring what others think: for all the arguments, for all the snarky comments, the insults, the fact she wants to hit him at least once a day, it somehow works.
When she thinks about it, which isn't often because it makes her head hurt, she knows it comes down to the limits. They both know where the defining lines fall, how far they can take things before having to reel it in. And yes, they push to those limits. Frequently and usually very loudly, and she's lost count of the times armed personnel have charged in because it's gotten to the stage of throwing things. But despite appearances, there is always an element of control.
Because she knows him.
When the smirk vanishes, when he goes very still, when he uses that flat voice, she knows to quit. He doesn't do it often, but then he doesn't need to. But when he does, she always obeys. Not because she's afraid, but because she knows that everyone has their limits and though skirting danger is fun and often ends in very hot sex, too much will break something she wants whole.
Sometimes she wonders what her own signals are. She's not aware of giving them off, but she must do because he knows when to stop too. Usually just as it's getting too much, too close to the bone, when she's sure the next word will break her. She's seen it happen; that brief flicker in his eyes, the swallow as he pulls back from the fatal blow.
And sometimes she wonders what will happen if they push too hard. If she fails to heed the warning signs, if he misses the cracks in her composure. It scares her how addicted to the danger she's become, to the sharp edge of pain that comes just before the heat of comfort. Sometimes she realises exactly what she is doing and whom she's doing it with, and wonders if she's completely insane.
But then...
But then he will stop. And he'll touch her more gently than she once believed possible. And the light in his eyes will have nothing to do with what lies inside. And he'll pull her in, her own personal black hole; as irresistible as gravity, as hot as the sun, as needful as oxygen.
And there are times when she thinks she can't take it any more, but then there are those when it's not enough and she needs more. When she's screaming for it to stop, for him not to, clawing desperately for purchase on something closer to normality, sobbing as she fails, falls.
To be caught in his arms.