New Fic - Jeremiah: Kurdy/Mister Smith
Jan. 29th, 2007 04:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
castalieGot home to find my Jeremiah story back and waiting for me in my mailbox *loves on the lovely ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
starwatcher307 who's juggling a gazillion beta while still writing her own awesome fics*
So. Okay. This is how it goes. Next time someone accuses me of writing a story to get feedbacks - and okay so no-one ever accused me of this but whatever - I'll direct them to this entry. This is me posting a story for a show that basically has no real fandom to speak of. Add to that the fact that not everyone is into slash, that even those who might be won't necessarily be into that pairing and that among those few people, not everyone will actually like my fic and that, even if they do, it doesn't mean that they'll comment and you can deduce that, really, I wrote this fic because it wanted to be written and sometimes? It's the only thing that counts, so there :-)
Title: What Does God Have to Say, Now?
Pairing: Kurdy/Mister Smith [Jeremiah]
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1200+
Summary: Kurdy finds a way to shut Smith up.
This is Mister Smith (Sean Astin) and Kurdy (Malcolm-Jamal Warner). Kurdy is one of the main characters from the pilot. He's Jeremiah's partner during the first season then after a fall out with him, their relationship goes through a rough patch which they slowly mend and Kurdy partners with Mister Smith, a strange and quirky man who appears at the beginning of season 2 and who claims - it's up to the viewer to believe him or not - to hear God's Voice, and who acts accordingly, following His/Her/Its command.
Kurdy and Mister Smith both make a pretty interesting team... I liked season 1 but I really loved season 2 thanks to the new dynamics that developped :-)
He had only meant to shut Smith up. To stop the flow of words, stop the maddening and endless stream of consciousness that Smith didn’t know how to keep to himself. He hadn’t planned it beforehand, hadn’t imagined a strategy. If he had, they certainly wouldn't be standing under a staircase in a drafty corridor. He’d simply acted on the driving need to shut Smith up.
So if you asked Kurdy, the kiss was, truthfully, as much a surprise for him as it was for his partner.
He hadn’t planned on pushing Smith against the wall and crushing his lips with his own. He hadn’t planned on keeping Smith’s head still by cupping a smooth cheek with one of his hands while the other was wrapped tightly around the short hair.
And Kurdy certainly hadn’t planned – even less than the rest – on enjoying it.
Because he was enjoying himself. Hell yeah. He fucking loved how Smith had let his knapsack fall to the floor without a single word of protest when Kurdy had moved on him. He absolutely adored how Smith had gotten almost limp against him, his body giving in, after initially tensing up at the sudden and completely unexpected move. He reveled in the little moans that came from Smith’s mouth. Was captivated by Smith’s hands gripping his long coat, as if the other man was trying to cling to a cliff lest he fell off the edge.
Blitz attacks had their uses; that was one of the lessons Kurdy drilled into the new recruits arriving at the Mountain. Never let the enemy guess what your next move is, always surprise them. Apparently, the same method came in handy when you were about to kiss one of your friends. Of course, Kurdy had been in the dark as much as Smith, but that wasn’t exactly the point, was it?
The point was, he was kissing Smith and having a hell of a good time. Which didn’t happen often enough, in his opinion. The kiss was hot and wet and... new somehow, even though Kurdy was hardly a novice in the matter; far from it, even, not that he was bragging. It was also an experience Kurdy hoped he would be able to try again. Because Smith, for all his nutty behavior and his absent looks and his crazy speech, Smith always took things in stride. And he hadn’t let Kurdy down this time either; he’d followed Kurdy’s lead like a seasoned partner, getting into the kiss as if he was born to it, as if he’d been used to tasting Kurdy’s lips all his life, as if his tongue knew all the secrets of Kurdy’s mouth.
Kurdy didn’t know whether God was speaking to Smith right this minute, if He or She or It or whatever it was that happened inside that insane mind of his was telling Smith that it was okay to do this. He hoped so; hoped that Smith understood that they were okay, that Smith could give himself to Kurdy without fear because Kurdy had his back and it was the only thing that mattered.
Kurdy smiled against Smith’s lips as he imagined that Smith knew a bit more about the situation than he himself did, all thanks to The Voice in his head. But he didn’t care. All he cared about was Smith, and the taste of his skin, the smell of his sweat, the feel of his lips and the sound of his moans.
Kurdy got a little rougher then, a bit more aggressive. Not needy - never that - but all of a sudden, he just wanted more. He bit Smith’s lips a bit harder, tasted him a bit deeper, his hand grasped his hair a bit tighter... he just caved in to the want and the need and, during all of this, Smith didn’t protest. He simply submitted and let Kurdy know, without a word, that he was okay with this new development.
Only when Kurdy’s rational mind reminded him that they certainly weren’t in the most secluded place in the complex did he draw apart. He bent forward and nuzzled Smith’s warm cheek, beard scratching deliciously on Smith’s skin. Instead of fighting it, he embraced the rush of affection that assaulted him as Smith shyly leaned into the touch.
They stayed like that for a minute, both enjoying the quiet of the moment; you never took peace for granted in the New World. Then Kurdy straightened, staring as Smith bent his knee to retrieve his knapsack. But instead of pulling it to him and hugging it to his chest, he let it dangle at arm's length. Kurdy nodded to himself; he liked the idea that Smith didn’t need either the comfort or the safety of the knapsack just now.
Smith cast a quick look to the side and wriggled discreetly, though, of course, the little move didn’t escape Kurdy’s notice. He could have asked, but he didn’t. He crossed his arms against his chest and waited, the leather of his black coat creaking quietly in the silence around them. Smith usually said some crazy shit but, if you were lucky, it could be that what came out of his mouth would be merely funny.
Still under scrutiny, Smith finally broke the silence. “I think I need to... jerk off, Kurdy,” he said in that semi-apologetic, semi-matter-of-fact tone of his that usually either drove Kurdy up the wall or made him laugh.
This time it was the latter. “Still no filter in that weird brain of yours, huh?” He chuckled, shaking his head fondly at the strange man in front of him.
Smith’s lips curved in an almost-smile. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be, man. You’re not the only one needing some relief, if you know what I mean.”
“I do.” And Smith wasn’t even yanking his chain, much less teasing him; he was merely stating a fact. Kurdy was getting used to his quirky partner.
“Think maybe we could help each other with our little ‘problem’?” he all but growled.
“I’d love that,” Smith said immediately. Then as an afterthought, “thank you.”
Kurdy laughed again, deep and low. “You’re a piece of work, you know that?”
“I think I’ve been told that once or twice since I came here.”
Kurdy snorted. Once or twice, huh? Understatement of the century, he thought. But he didn’t say anything aloud. Instead, he just leaned closer to Smith, looming over him. “Hey, Mister Smith,” he said, “I was wondering.”
Smith’s eyes were fixed on his. “Yes, what?”
“I was wondering,” Kurdy repeated slowly, face intent, staring at Smith, voice low and predatory, “what God has to say now?”
Smith licked his lips and stayed silent for a little while, a far-away look on his face, as if he were indeed listening to that little voice in the back of his head that told him so many secrets. A timid smile curved the corner of his lips. He shifted, tentatively pressed closer to Kurdy and then, very softly, he whispered, “God says, kiss me again.”
After another throaty laugh, Kurdy complied. After all, who was he to go against God’s will?
Fin
starwatcher307 who's juggling a gazillion beta while still writing her own awesome fics*So. Okay. This is how it goes. Next time someone accuses me of writing a story to get feedbacks - and okay so no-one ever accused me of this but whatever - I'll direct them to this entry. This is me posting a story for a show that basically has no real fandom to speak of. Add to that the fact that not everyone is into slash, that even those who might be won't necessarily be into that pairing and that among those few people, not everyone will actually like my fic and that, even if they do, it doesn't mean that they'll comment and you can deduce that, really, I wrote this fic because it wanted to be written and sometimes? It's the only thing that counts, so there :-)
Title: What Does God Have to Say, Now?
Pairing: Kurdy/Mister Smith [Jeremiah]
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1200+
Summary: Kurdy finds a way to shut Smith up.
Kurdy and Mister Smith both make a pretty interesting team... I liked season 1 but I really loved season 2 thanks to the new dynamics that developped :-)
He had only meant to shut Smith up. To stop the flow of words, stop the maddening and endless stream of consciousness that Smith didn’t know how to keep to himself. He hadn’t planned it beforehand, hadn’t imagined a strategy. If he had, they certainly wouldn't be standing under a staircase in a drafty corridor. He’d simply acted on the driving need to shut Smith up.
So if you asked Kurdy, the kiss was, truthfully, as much a surprise for him as it was for his partner.
He hadn’t planned on pushing Smith against the wall and crushing his lips with his own. He hadn’t planned on keeping Smith’s head still by cupping a smooth cheek with one of his hands while the other was wrapped tightly around the short hair.
And Kurdy certainly hadn’t planned – even less than the rest – on enjoying it.
Because he was enjoying himself. Hell yeah. He fucking loved how Smith had let his knapsack fall to the floor without a single word of protest when Kurdy had moved on him. He absolutely adored how Smith had gotten almost limp against him, his body giving in, after initially tensing up at the sudden and completely unexpected move. He reveled in the little moans that came from Smith’s mouth. Was captivated by Smith’s hands gripping his long coat, as if the other man was trying to cling to a cliff lest he fell off the edge.
Blitz attacks had their uses; that was one of the lessons Kurdy drilled into the new recruits arriving at the Mountain. Never let the enemy guess what your next move is, always surprise them. Apparently, the same method came in handy when you were about to kiss one of your friends. Of course, Kurdy had been in the dark as much as Smith, but that wasn’t exactly the point, was it?
The point was, he was kissing Smith and having a hell of a good time. Which didn’t happen often enough, in his opinion. The kiss was hot and wet and... new somehow, even though Kurdy was hardly a novice in the matter; far from it, even, not that he was bragging. It was also an experience Kurdy hoped he would be able to try again. Because Smith, for all his nutty behavior and his absent looks and his crazy speech, Smith always took things in stride. And he hadn’t let Kurdy down this time either; he’d followed Kurdy’s lead like a seasoned partner, getting into the kiss as if he was born to it, as if he’d been used to tasting Kurdy’s lips all his life, as if his tongue knew all the secrets of Kurdy’s mouth.
Kurdy didn’t know whether God was speaking to Smith right this minute, if He or She or It or whatever it was that happened inside that insane mind of his was telling Smith that it was okay to do this. He hoped so; hoped that Smith understood that they were okay, that Smith could give himself to Kurdy without fear because Kurdy had his back and it was the only thing that mattered.
Kurdy smiled against Smith’s lips as he imagined that Smith knew a bit more about the situation than he himself did, all thanks to The Voice in his head. But he didn’t care. All he cared about was Smith, and the taste of his skin, the smell of his sweat, the feel of his lips and the sound of his moans.
Kurdy got a little rougher then, a bit more aggressive. Not needy - never that - but all of a sudden, he just wanted more. He bit Smith’s lips a bit harder, tasted him a bit deeper, his hand grasped his hair a bit tighter... he just caved in to the want and the need and, during all of this, Smith didn’t protest. He simply submitted and let Kurdy know, without a word, that he was okay with this new development.
Only when Kurdy’s rational mind reminded him that they certainly weren’t in the most secluded place in the complex did he draw apart. He bent forward and nuzzled Smith’s warm cheek, beard scratching deliciously on Smith’s skin. Instead of fighting it, he embraced the rush of affection that assaulted him as Smith shyly leaned into the touch.
They stayed like that for a minute, both enjoying the quiet of the moment; you never took peace for granted in the New World. Then Kurdy straightened, staring as Smith bent his knee to retrieve his knapsack. But instead of pulling it to him and hugging it to his chest, he let it dangle at arm's length. Kurdy nodded to himself; he liked the idea that Smith didn’t need either the comfort or the safety of the knapsack just now.
Smith cast a quick look to the side and wriggled discreetly, though, of course, the little move didn’t escape Kurdy’s notice. He could have asked, but he didn’t. He crossed his arms against his chest and waited, the leather of his black coat creaking quietly in the silence around them. Smith usually said some crazy shit but, if you were lucky, it could be that what came out of his mouth would be merely funny.
Still under scrutiny, Smith finally broke the silence. “I think I need to... jerk off, Kurdy,” he said in that semi-apologetic, semi-matter-of-fact tone of his that usually either drove Kurdy up the wall or made him laugh.
This time it was the latter. “Still no filter in that weird brain of yours, huh?” He chuckled, shaking his head fondly at the strange man in front of him.
Smith’s lips curved in an almost-smile. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be, man. You’re not the only one needing some relief, if you know what I mean.”
“I do.” And Smith wasn’t even yanking his chain, much less teasing him; he was merely stating a fact. Kurdy was getting used to his quirky partner.
“Think maybe we could help each other with our little ‘problem’?” he all but growled.
“I’d love that,” Smith said immediately. Then as an afterthought, “thank you.”
Kurdy laughed again, deep and low. “You’re a piece of work, you know that?”
“I think I’ve been told that once or twice since I came here.”
Kurdy snorted. Once or twice, huh? Understatement of the century, he thought. But he didn’t say anything aloud. Instead, he just leaned closer to Smith, looming over him. “Hey, Mister Smith,” he said, “I was wondering.”
Smith’s eyes were fixed on his. “Yes, what?”
“I was wondering,” Kurdy repeated slowly, face intent, staring at Smith, voice low and predatory, “what God has to say now?”
Smith licked his lips and stayed silent for a little while, a far-away look on his face, as if he were indeed listening to that little voice in the back of his head that told him so many secrets. A timid smile curved the corner of his lips. He shifted, tentatively pressed closer to Kurdy and then, very softly, he whispered, “God says, kiss me again.”
After another throaty laugh, Kurdy complied. After all, who was he to go against God’s will?
Fin
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-01-29 06:44 pm (UTC)Your story is a great take on these two very different guys who somehow manage to become great friends for each other.
Hope to see more from you. May I friend you?
no subject
Date: 2007-01-30 11:20 am (UTC)And you're, of course, welcome to friend my journal, though if you're friending it in order to get more Jeremiah stories, I think you'd better not do it. So far, this was a one night stand :-) Besides, if I do write more, I'll announce them all over at
no subject
Date: 2007-01-29 07:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-30 11:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-30 01:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-01 01:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-29 09:37 pm (UTC)And loved this fic, by the way! Great characterization :)
no subject
Date: 2007-01-30 11:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-29 10:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-30 11:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-29 11:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-30 11:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-13 11:32 pm (UTC)I sort of want more =D
no subject
Date: 2007-02-16 04:17 pm (UTC)I wish I could help you with that but I'm afraid my fic was a one-time thing. Still, glad it made you want more of that pairing, or any Jeremiah pairing, really *g*
no subject
Date: 2007-02-14 04:50 pm (UTC)I can't comment on characterisation or anything, but man, I loved the kiss.
he’d followed Kurdy’s lead like a seasoned partner, getting into the kiss as if he was born to it, as if he’d been used to tasting Kurdy’s lips all his life, as if his tongue knew all the secrets of Kurdy’s mouth.
Purrrrrrr! That's lovely.
“I think I need to... jerk off, Kurdy,”
I think that was my favourite line. Nothing like saying what you're thinking *g*
no subject
Date: 2007-02-16 04:18 pm (UTC)Remember a time when I never really wrote kisses? How could I survive the lack of kisses in fics? They're so fun to write and always so lovely think about *sigh*
Thanks for the feedback, sis *hugs*
no subject
Date: 2007-07-04 11:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-05 10:30 am (UTC)