bakerstreet | Ch-ch-cherry bomb

Ch-ch-cherry bomb

Experience Difference
Loss of Virginity aka Deflowering Meme

There's nothing wrong with a little bump and grind, a great poet once said. When you meet that right person and sparks fly, just do what comes naturally! No one will judge you...

...no one that matters, anyway.

But what if you judge yourself - gasp - because your partner has more sexual experience than you! Not that it's hard if you're a virgin. Perhaps you knew that going in, or this could be a discovery you make while your under the covers. It may be expected (ie, your partner is older or more worldly than you) or a complete and utter surprise.

How you handle it, however, is the key. Are you embarrassed? Shocked? Angry? If you're smart, you'll hope your partner will show you the ropes. If you truly care for this other person, you shouldn't let things like this come between you, as hard as that can be.

HOW TO PLAY

- Comment with your character and preferences. Be sure to mention in your comment whether or not you prefer your character to be the experienced or the inexperienced/virgin.
- Play with others! What direction you take this depends entirely on you. You can be fluffy, dark and creepy, involve sexual orientation play, age differences or underage, or a whole plethora of other vibes and scenes. Just be certain that everyone is on the same page.

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[ooc: Inexperienced. No noncon, but most other scenarios can be discussed.]

[The experienced one. Cross-canon and assumed CR ok.]

[Inexperienced for sure. Prefer no Buckys]

((Interested in an immortal time traveler? Perhaps they met during WWII and Jack is very, very happy to learn that Steve is still alive?))

[That sounds perfectly fun actually. Love Jack!]

Jack had fought in many wars, and loved a great many people. He may have outlived them all, but remembered every single one of them, because they had each changed his life in some way. When he'd heard that Captain Rogers' plane went down, he'd mourned. But life went on, and so did Jack.

Until one day, he turned on the news, and what he saw was enough to make the world stand still.

Captain America, alive and well.

At first, Jack wasn't sure if he should reach out to his fellow captain, or if it would be too much of a shock. But he'd been through enough upheaval of his own of late that the need for a familiar face outweighed his caution, and he eventually found himself at Captain Rogers' door.

Adjusting to a new century had been a strange experience. There was a surreal grief that came with waking up after what felt like only a night -- maybe a few days -- and realizing that practically everyone you had ever known was dead. The world you woke up in was completely different there were few small comforts of the old world that Steve found.

His apartment had been mostly designed to lower the feelings of anxiety and well it wasn't exactly homesickness that he had, maybe more of a timesickness. He hadn't shirked the modern conveniences but there was an older tone to his home.

When someone had shown up his door he didn't think much as he opened it. But there stood Jack, Captain Harkness, looking exactly as he had in the 1940s. Steve stared at him and wondered if his sanity had finally broken and he'd conjured a ghost of the past. He opened his mouth to say something -- anything -- but no words provided themselves to him so he opened the door wider in a silent shocked invitation.

Steve looked just as Jack remembered him, just as he had on the news, but somehow seeing him in person took Jack's breath away and left him every bit as speechless. There were so many thoughts, so many feelings running through his mind and body that all he could do was step inside, and let Steve close the door behind him.

He was only dimly aware of the apartment's interior, furnished as it was to make a timesick man like himself to feel at home, like the ubiquitous captain's coat that Jack himself still wore wherever he went. He could hardly take his eyes off of his old friend. Real, and solid, and even more in shock than he was.

Finally, he cleared his throat, and willed himself to speak. "I...guess I have some explaining to do."

Steve closed the door behind Jack, his brain trying to process this. As far as he knew Jack hadn't had the same serum or experiences that he had so why exactly was he here and just like he was...

A laugh bursted from Steve's throat, if a bit awkwardly, because the statement was accurate but also somehow seemed to be the biggest understatement he had heard for a while. "Yes, you do," he cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. "Do you want something to drink?" he asked, waving toward the couch that was in the living room.

"I'm not sure there's anything strong enough on the open market," Jack said with a wry laugh, "So...whatever you have on hand is fine." He sat down, taking a moment to try and figure out where to begin his explanation.

"I hope you've got time for a long story."

Steve could understand the sentiment even if he wasn't all that much of a drinker himself. He did however have some beers, mostly for when he had people over than so much himself. He grabbed two, coming back to hand one to Jack. He sat down, opening his own without much effort.

"I've got a little too much time at the moment so I'm all ears."

"Thanks," Jack said, holding the bottle in both hands the way one might hold a mug of coffee. It gave him something to do, to distract himself from his sudden case of nerves.

"There's really no way to say this that isn't going to sound crazy, but under the circumstances, I think you can probably handle it." At least, he hoped so. There was only one way to find out. "I'm a Time Agent from the 51st Century." That was oversimplifying things a bit, but it was a start. "Also, really bad at dying."

Steve was really bad at math at times. 51st century... that'd make Jack, a lot younger than him or ... well the logistics of that was just a bit confusing. "Okay," Steve said initially and took a long drink of his beer. He'd heard a lot of strange things but this was up there among the weirdest.

"Bad at dying...?"

From where they were sitting in the 21st, Jack wouldn't even be born for another several hundred years. But with all the time travel, he'd lived for a couple thousand and counting.

"There was an accident involving a time ship, and I sort of got stuck as I was in that moment. So I don't age much, and whenever something happens, like getting killed, my body just...resets. Fortunately, or unfortunately, my mind stays intact, so I don't lose any memories."

"That's weird," Steve said after a few moments of silence. Given his circle of friends he could accept weird, though.

"I suppose then, you might be one of the only people alive that understands how I feel," Steve said after a few moments because he didn't need to dissect the how that really wasn't his style.

Jack could only nod, because his life only tended to get weirder. "I suppose so," he said, smiling. "I can't tell you how good it is to see you again."

The only other person he knew who was still alive from back then...thought that he was Jack Harkness, Junior.

"I could say the same... this is certainly, an unexpected but pleasant surprise," Steve said, studying Jack carefully as if he didn't fully believe he was real. He took another few sips of his beer. "It's a bit hard to believe you're real, even after all the strange things that have happened in my lifetime."

"You can touch me if you want," Jack suggested with a laugh. "I might not believe it myself if I were in your shoes, but I can assure you I am very real. And still very much flesh and blood."

He was trying to keep things light, and not think too hard about all the ways he had been injured, maimed, and killed over the years--but if Steve wanted some kind of proof, he supposed he could offer some kind of demonstration.

"I believe you," Steve said, a bit quickly. He felt an edge of shyness pushing forward at the idea of touching Jack. But all his senses could confirm the man was real, he chalked it up to Science. After all, his existence shouldn't be possible either but here he was because of a science experiment of sorts.

He sat the beer down, the alcohol wasn't really doing much for him and steadied his eyes on Jack. "It's a bit surreal though, seeing you, here, now. But I'm glad."

Jack almost had to look away for a moment, feeling a strong surge of emotion, but Steve held his gaze and somehow Jack held it together. He knew he shouldn't be alive, but for once in a long while, he was glad that he was.

He set his bottle down as well, and offered Steve another smile. "It's good to be alive, Cap."

"Yes, it is," Steve laughed, and it came easier than his laughter had as of late. There was far too much chaos and negativity in his life lately. He'd found very little to laugh about.

He smiled before finally looking away from Jack, his mind wandering to and getting lost in the 'good ole times' that seeing him conjured up vivid memories of.

Jack could guess what Steve might be thinking about when he averted his eyes. He got the same look of bittersweet nostalgia Jack saw in the mirror every day.

"I miss them, too," he said, "the old times. Our old friends. There's so much that I wish I could go back and change, but it doesn't really work that way."

Steve's eyes focused again on Jack when the other spoke. He almost asked if the other could read his mind but he supposed it was more he could read his face and he knew just as much if not more so that look.

"That must be frustrating," Steve said, because even without the idea of time travel he had wanted to do that often and knowing there was now something like that -- well, it must be undeniably frustrating if you couldn't fix things. "It's... I don't think I can imagine, actually."

Jack nodded. "We fix what we can," he said, "But not everything is fluid. Some points in time become fixed. Like me. So I try to do as much living as I can."

[ m/f ]

[ it starts in a dance hall they've been to a dozen times—it's a place to go when dinner's over and neither of them really want to get up and leave. his steps to the faster songs have improved ( he admits to her once over drink that he doesn't bother practicing without her ) but there's a bias to the slower songs. swaying in time to the music, his hand on the small of her back, her head on his shoulder. these evenings end all too quickly before he puts her in a cab or walks her back to her apartment.

they go up to his place under the pretense of coffee. the cups turn tepid as they have their own dance party, radio filling the apartment with soft music as they sway in their own private dance hall. the conversation is hushed for the sake of his neighbors and paper thin walls, littered with laughter and steve managing to only step on her toes once. it's punctuated with a kiss she presses against his lower lip, and he kisses her back deeply, the sort neither of them have the courage to share on sidewalks waiting for cabs or on brownstone stoops.

when the music ends they watch each other a moment in silence like neither of them wishes to concede putting words to the tension in the air. they've been here many times before, often ending with steve offering to walk her home. "I should take you home" is quite unconvincing tonight. peggy doesn't bother answering, opting to kiss him again.

( every night she comes home at a decent hour her roommate is a little disappointed. they're enlightened women in changing world, she says, and it isn't like her beaux is anything but hers. )

his room is dim and clean, sheets of his bed tucked into tidy military corners. manicured fingertips pluck apart the buttons of his shirt one by one until it falling to the floor adds some disarray to the order. ]

Zipper's in the back, [ she teases softly when his mouth finally breaks away from hers to kiss a line down her neck. ]

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Ch-ch-cherry bomb

Rey | SW:TFA | OTA

The Dragonborn | Skyrim | OTA

Steve Rogers | MCU | m/m

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lmk if this works/feel free to elaborate

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steve rogers, mcu.

you know me, this is 99% setup. also stopping this before i go on for ages.