[identity profile] finkpishnets.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] ivoryandgoldd
so full of these endless rhymes by [livejournal.com profile] finkpishnets
the newsroom | jim/neal | pg-13 | ~860
the first time they sleep together it’s an accident.

a/n: for the cottoncandy_bingo prompt “remedy”. no spoilers for anything.

The first time they sleep together it’s an accident. Or, well, okay, not so much an accident as too many drinks and a lack of cabs, and Neal’s apartment is only a short subway ride away and he has a couch and all these things make sense when they’re leaving the bar, but then Jim’s shirt is crumpled somewhere between the kitchen and the bedroom and Neal’s teeth are grazing his neck and this is apparently another one of those things he’s been incredibly oblivious about because Neal is the closest thing he’s had to a best friend since college or Mackenzie and right now his hand is down the back of Jim’s pants.

Jim wonders vaguely if he should stop this -- they’re both on the wrong side of tipsy and he’s also reasonably sure that Neal’s straight -- but then Neal’s kissing him and he’s as good at that as he is at everything else and, well, Jim’s always had a soft spot for competent people.

By the time they’re falling back onto the bed, too many limbs and not enough coordination, Jim’s pushed all thoughts of work and friendship and consequences out of his mind. He’ll deal with them tomorrow, when Neal’s knee isn’t pressed between his thighs in a maddening way and the only words leaving his mouth aren’t variations on yes, god, and more.


The second time it’s intentional. They’re marathoning Drop the Dead Donkey on Jim’s couch because it’s funny and because they’re masochists, and then they’re making out, Jim pushing Neal back into the cushions like this is something they always do. Neal doesn’t complain though, kisses back easily, and fuck, he really is as good at this as Jim remembers, and maybe that’s why he doesn’t think before pressing his palm against the front of Neal’s pants.

Neal arches up into him, and, shit, this is like being fifteen all over again and getting to third base with Melissa Gordon in his parents’ den -- only it’s nothing like that because he’s a fully-grown man and apparently sleeping with his colleague slash best friend since twice tends to be considered precedent.

They should probably talk about this.

They don’t though.

They don’t see much more of the show, either.


“Why are we doing this?” Jim asks, panting against the inside of his arm and belatedly hoping they locked the door.

“Everyone has a way of releasing work pressure,” Neal says. “This is ours.”

“So it’s just a stress remedy?” Jim says, and tries not to think too hard about the way that makes him feel.

The look Neal shoots him makes him think that maybe he’s still managing to miss the point.


A major story drops and they spend a week chained to their desks, running on adrenaline and Red Bull, and Jim’s juggling the jobs of at least three people and hoping to hell the stress doesn’t turn him grey before he sees this thing through and wondering if he can claim damages if it does.

Mackenzie is even more frantic than usual, and he’s pretty sure Maggie’s been crying into the same cup of coffee for over an hour, but at least Will has something credible to go on air with. Jim’s about to start on another batch of phonecalls when Neal grabs his arm, picks up his coat, and steers him in the direction of the door.

“Go home,” he says, and Jim gapes at him.

“What? Are you crazy?

“No,” Neal says, “but you’re heading there. Go home, get something to eat, sleep, and come back when you don’t look like you’re five seconds away from jumping off the tenth floor balcony.”

Jim’s going to pull rank, he really is, but then he realizes he’s swaying into Neal’s side and his feet are barely lifting off the floor, and shit, he can’t afford to screw up just because he hasn’t slept in 48 hours.

“Fine,” Neal says. “Fine. But you’re coming too.”

He doesn’t know why he says it, waits for Neal to roll his eyes and spout off a list of statistics that are possibly actually magic, because not everyone’s been dumb enough to pull so many all-nighters in a row, but Neal just smiles.

“Okay,” he says, and Jim feels something stick in his throat.


When it’s all over, there’s a party - there’s always a party - except this time Jim doesn’t get drunk, and he doesn’t flirt with Maggie, and at the end of the night he goes home with Neal and they have sex in the shower and afterwards fall asleep curled under his giant duvet to fight off the cold.

In the morning he wakes up to find Neal eating cold pizza and watching the Discovery Channel in his boxers and one of Jim’s Star Trek t-shirts, and he suddenly gets it.

“Hi,” he says. “Don’t get crumbs in the sheets.”

Neal turns to face him, eyeing him thoughtfully for a moment, and then smiles.

“Love you too,” he says, and when Jim starts laughing he can’t stop for an hour.

It’s okay though.

Neal’s laughing with him.

(deleted comment)

Date: 2013-08-22 05:45 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] portions-forfox.livejournal.com
and then they’re making out, Jim pushing Neal back into the cushions like this is something they always do. i don't know why I find this line so hot, can someone explain that to me?

Um but no really. Your writing is so gr9 I love it.


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