FIC: "All Bets Off" 1/1 (Football RPS)

Title: "All Bets Off" 1/1
Author: Brenda
Fandom: Football RPS
Pairing: Matt Hasselbeck/Ben Roethlisberger
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Taking a ride. Takes place immediately after this (written by Jo.)
Disclaimer: Never happened, isn't happening now.
Author's notes: Because the idea of bike sex was really too hot NOT to write... Yes, I realize we have a series now. Go us. ;)


The silence is deafening after the roar of the Harley. Both slide their helmets off, shivering at the cold. They can clearly see each breath.

"Can't fucking believe you dragged me out here."

"Look up."

Blue eyes lift, then widen. "I'll be damned..."

"Yeah."

The stars – a million of them, it seems – glow with fiery brilliance. For a few long minutes, they both feel small.

"Still sore at me?" It's hardly more than a murmur.

"In what sense?"

Teeth flash white above a scraggly beard. "Either one, I guess."

"Nah." Lips brush against lips, soft, heated. "But you fuck like a girl."

Hazel-green eyes flash with amusement, perfectly timed with the half-hearted shove (but not with the passing arm) in retaliation. "The hell I do."

"Think all that running around on the field made you tired is all."

"You aiming to get thrown down on this bike and taken like a bitch?"

Slow, rolling shrug. It fools neither. "Dunno. You aiming to take me?"

"Mine all night, right?"

"That was the bet." Two shuffled steps closer, and the kiss is furious, hard, heats the frigid air around them.

"Lucky for you I brought something, then."

"Oh yeah." Soft, husky rasp. "Lucky me."

FIC: "Place Your Bets" 1/1 (Football RPS)

Title: "Place Your Bets" 1/1
Author: Brenda
Fandom: Football RPS
Pairing: Matt Hasselbeck/Ben Roethlisberger
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Hard sex and trash talk. Takes place immediately after this. (written by Jo.)
Disclaimer: Never happened, isn't happening now.
Author's notes: The end of the series & finally, we get sex. Amen & hallelujah, see you in the fall. *g*



"Fuck..." The word is strangled, low, as long fingers twist, move, prepare. "Do it."

"With pleasure." Hazel-green eyes, clouded with lust and need, close in ecstasy at the first smooth thrust home. "Fuck...you feel good..."

Hips shift, align as they start rocking, skin to skin, eager cock buried deep inside a willing ass.

"More..." It's ground out like a command.

"Just for you." Solid snap forward, each thrust a declaration of intent, ownership, as soft lips slide along a sculpted shoulder still damp from the shower, nuzzle a smoothly shaven head. "Like that?"

"Fuck yeah..."

The sheets are a tangled mess by the time they're done. The towel's long since been lost, and the suit? Well, it's hopelessly wrinkled. They both consider it well worth it. Later, plastered against each other in sweat-slick afterglow, blunt fingers trail along a newly smooth cheek.

"S'nice."

"Just sayin' that cause you don't like stubble burn."

Blue eyes flash with amusement. "Neither do you."

Strong arms tighten around a solid body. "Well, season's over for both of us. Don't hafta worry about growing it again 'til August."

"You know I'm gonna kick your ass next year, right?"

Both smile. "Gonna hold you to it."