Work Text:
Screamer
by romankate (Kate Roman)
When Jim finally stops to think about it, it makes perfect sense Sandburg's a screamer.
It's that perfectly buttoned-down, ponytail-and-glasses exterior that hides the heart of a wild man. A wild man who likes to hang on tight, gripping hard enough to turn his knuckles white, head thrown back and mouth open wide, screaming blue murder as they rattle through the dips and twists, loops and whirls together, pressed hard against one another in the small space, and that sound's not one Jim's ever likely to forget. Especially seeing how it took place right next to his own ear.
Afterwards, Sandburg clings to his arm like it's a life raft, and Jim has to help him find his feet, steady him, an arm around his ribs, holding him close.
Jim looks into those big blue eyes and grins, in love with this side of Sandburg. Something new, once hidden now emerged.
"Again," the bossy little academic demands, and Jim rolls his eyes. There's only so much one man can take. And yet, for Sandburg?
Jim takes a deep breath. "Can we at least get something to eat first? I'm starving."
It's Sandburg's turn to roll his eyes, but instead, he grins slyly. "Cotton candy? Funnel cake?"
Jim starts thinking of the calories, the fat, and then stops, hearing Sandburg's wild man yell again in his head. That. That's what he wants. Now and forever, in his bed, on the futon, the kitchen counter, in the shower--
"Earth to Ellison, come in Ellison."
Jim's glare comes out softer than he'd like; he sees the recognition of it in Sandburg's eyes. "Whatever you want, Chief. After all, it's not every day we make it out to the amusement park."
end