Easily Enough -- NC-17 -- MO/DM
Title: Easily Enough
Author: Chevauchée [renjenri]
Pairing: Miranda Otto/Dominic Monaghan (yes, het *sigh* hope this doesn't get me tossed out)
Summary: "The greatest pleasure I have ever known is when my eyes meet the eyes of a mate over the top of two foaming glasses of beer" Henry Lawson, Australian legend
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Wasn't there, don't know them. This never happened. Jingle belongs to XXXX Brewers, Queensland, Australia. Don't own them either. Got 73 cents to my name. Don't sue, it'll do you no good.
Distribution: Ask.
Feedback: Is welcome.
Notes: Inspired by the CLM taste challenge. Timeline is fluid. Thanks to Regret for beta. Ok, this is now the fic with no home, since it's ineligible for CLM. I think I've seen het here before, so I'm risking posting it. If I need to delete it, lemme know.
Her mouth moves over the curve of his ear. He likes this, the gasp and roll of his hips tell her this. But there's still the taste of glue there, tart and chemical and it makes her mouth water and pucker. She nips at his lobe, to feel the grind of his hips against hers, to hear the whoosh of his breath rush in.
It had started easily enough.
Miranda was learning to ride, learning to fight, and her body hurt. She didn't complain, wouldn't lose face in front of the boys, not for nothing. Eowyn wouldn't allow that.
"You all right?" English, the accent, the voice a pleasant rumble to her side. Glancing over, it's Merry.
"I'm fi -- " No, this is Dominic. And she's Miranda. And she hurts. "Actually, I'm sore in muscles that I never knew I had." She manages to put a smile and a little laugh to it.
"Think we all are." Quiet then, as they both eat their lunches. Miranda can't quite pick out the flavors of the pasta she's eating, the exhaustion is too overwhelming. Every time her fork moves from her plate to her mouth, her shoulders protest. From the way Dominic winces and shifts as he brings his sandwich up, he's doing no better. "Spent all morning wanting a rest, now I have it and all I can think is that we have another three hours to go."
She laughs then, he sounds so pitiful she can't stop herself. "There's life for you."
He just smiles a bit and she smiles back. Pepper and the sweetness of tomatoes explode on her tongue, the pasta feels smooth, almost like flesh.
Her mouth is moving down his jaw now, salt taste of skin with a hint of soap, stubble pulling at her lips, even as her hands move down and slide into his jeans. "Miranda, Miranda," he says, like he's found the word that contains the meaning of life and controls the universe and is too beautiful not to say for the sake of hearing it. She shushes him, soft breath of sound sliding past her lips. She slides down, the hair of his chest softer than than the stubble, still coarse against her tongue. More salty flesh under the hair.
It continued easily enough.
Everyone had rallied after a long day and gone to the pub. Dinner's excellent red wine, dry, and rich, and wild wood taste, now being overlaid by a pot of bitter Fourex. Miranda'd been a bit shocked to find it here, usually couldn't find it outside Queensland. Elijah kept laughing and saying the name over and over, as "Ex-Ex-Ex-Ex."
"No, mate, get it right. Fourex. Unless you're going to be singing the jingle then."
"Jingle?" several people say and she rises to her feet, swaying a bit.
"Melbourne's got rain and Sydney's got yuppies,
Tassie got the chop and we got lucky,
Nobody does it like up here does it,
We love it up here,
We don't just like it, we love it!
We don't just like it, we love it!
We love it up here,
The people the places, the mates the faces,
The XXXX, yep, the beer up here, we love it up here!"
A round of cheers from the table then, as she falls back in her chair, giggling. Dominic's grinning at her, over the top of his own glass. She drinks and it tastes of home and good company.
He's in her mouth now, thick and heavy. She's gone high on the heat of him, the rich male taste of him, all musk and wildness. His hands are caught up in her hair, he's pulling her up and away now, "No no, can't, in you, please."
"Since you asked so nicely..." and she pulls herself over him before settling down.
They'd fallen into bed easily enough.
She'd thought she was drained after filming the battle with the Witch-King. Thought she'd get back to her house and collapse into bed, but when she got there, she couldn't seem to stay still.
Couldn't seem to stop thinking of Dominic, delivering his lines from the side as his scale double handled most of the movement. He'd do most of his work on this scene in front of a blue screen later.
He'd brought her tea during one of the breaks. No milk, extra sugar, the way she made herself a cuppa. She didn't remember telling him how she liked her tea, but he must have seen. The thought that he'd paid attention to such a silly thing made her feel warmer than the tea did, all sweet and clinging to her tongue. But not as warm as his hand did, resting in the small of her back, rubbing at the tension, that was far better than knowing how she took her tea.
Before she really thinks about it, she's gotten dressed and is driving over to him.
Standing at the door, she feels a moment of awkward foolishness. She rings the bell anyway and chews on her lip, waxy lip balm coating her mouth. He answers the door, jeans and bare feet, looking a bit confused, but steps out of her way.
"I'm sorry for bothering you. I just couldn't sleep. I thought I'd come over... Don't know what I thought you'd do about it... Stupid... I'm sorry. I guess I... I just didn't want to be alone." She doesn't look at him, feels the heat in her face and curses how easy her skin shows embarrassment.
"Miranda." Nothing more, not until she looks at him. His eyes are dark and his lips curve up. He looks gentle and dangerous and she can't figure out how he can be both at the same time. "... right?"
"Huh?"
"We're mates, right?"
"Yes." And they were. She wants to lick the curve of those lips, see those eyes fall shut, feel his mouth shape her name against her mouth.
"I help my mates. So if you want to stay here, you can. If you want something else, you can. And we'll still be mates in the morning, right?"
The knot she hadn't realized was in her stomach loosens, unfurls into warmth. He understands. "Right." And she reaches to him, lets him lead her into his bedroom.
He's in her, and she's quit teasing now, rocking hard against him and feeling him push hard up against her. His hand is between them, working at her and it's suddenly too much, she's jerking and gasping and he's pushing up harder, making it stronger, better. Both of his hands cup her hips now and he's frantic. She tries to get shaking thighs and complaining knees to help him, make it good and better for him, but she's gone limp and satisfied. Still seems he's fine, grinding hard against her, cursing, and then they're both still, sucking hot air in, little aftershocks of pleasure rolling through them.
"Dominic?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm glad we're mates."
He laughs then, and she has to taste it. Stretching up a bit, she fits her mouth over his and tastes... It tastes like nothing else, just Dominic.
Author: Chevauchée [renjenri]
Pairing: Miranda Otto/Dominic Monaghan (yes, het *sigh* hope this doesn't get me tossed out)
Summary: "The greatest pleasure I have ever known is when my eyes meet the eyes of a mate over the top of two foaming glasses of beer" Henry Lawson, Australian legend
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Wasn't there, don't know them. This never happened. Jingle belongs to XXXX Brewers, Queensland, Australia. Don't own them either. Got 73 cents to my name. Don't sue, it'll do you no good.
Distribution: Ask.
Feedback: Is welcome.
Notes: Inspired by the CLM taste challenge. Timeline is fluid. Thanks to Regret for beta. Ok, this is now the fic with no home, since it's ineligible for CLM. I think I've seen het here before, so I'm risking posting it. If I need to delete it, lemme know.
Her mouth moves over the curve of his ear. He likes this, the gasp and roll of his hips tell her this. But there's still the taste of glue there, tart and chemical and it makes her mouth water and pucker. She nips at his lobe, to feel the grind of his hips against hers, to hear the whoosh of his breath rush in.
It had started easily enough.
Miranda was learning to ride, learning to fight, and her body hurt. She didn't complain, wouldn't lose face in front of the boys, not for nothing. Eowyn wouldn't allow that.
"You all right?" English, the accent, the voice a pleasant rumble to her side. Glancing over, it's Merry.
"I'm fi -- " No, this is Dominic. And she's Miranda. And she hurts. "Actually, I'm sore in muscles that I never knew I had." She manages to put a smile and a little laugh to it.
"Think we all are." Quiet then, as they both eat their lunches. Miranda can't quite pick out the flavors of the pasta she's eating, the exhaustion is too overwhelming. Every time her fork moves from her plate to her mouth, her shoulders protest. From the way Dominic winces and shifts as he brings his sandwich up, he's doing no better. "Spent all morning wanting a rest, now I have it and all I can think is that we have another three hours to go."
She laughs then, he sounds so pitiful she can't stop herself. "There's life for you."
He just smiles a bit and she smiles back. Pepper and the sweetness of tomatoes explode on her tongue, the pasta feels smooth, almost like flesh.
Her mouth is moving down his jaw now, salt taste of skin with a hint of soap, stubble pulling at her lips, even as her hands move down and slide into his jeans. "Miranda, Miranda," he says, like he's found the word that contains the meaning of life and controls the universe and is too beautiful not to say for the sake of hearing it. She shushes him, soft breath of sound sliding past her lips. She slides down, the hair of his chest softer than than the stubble, still coarse against her tongue. More salty flesh under the hair.
It continued easily enough.
Everyone had rallied after a long day and gone to the pub. Dinner's excellent red wine, dry, and rich, and wild wood taste, now being overlaid by a pot of bitter Fourex. Miranda'd been a bit shocked to find it here, usually couldn't find it outside Queensland. Elijah kept laughing and saying the name over and over, as "Ex-Ex-Ex-Ex."
"No, mate, get it right. Fourex. Unless you're going to be singing the jingle then."
"Jingle?" several people say and she rises to her feet, swaying a bit.
"Melbourne's got rain and Sydney's got yuppies,
Tassie got the chop and we got lucky,
Nobody does it like up here does it,
We love it up here,
We don't just like it, we love it!
We don't just like it, we love it!
We love it up here,
The people the places, the mates the faces,
The XXXX, yep, the beer up here, we love it up here!"
A round of cheers from the table then, as she falls back in her chair, giggling. Dominic's grinning at her, over the top of his own glass. She drinks and it tastes of home and good company.
He's in her mouth now, thick and heavy. She's gone high on the heat of him, the rich male taste of him, all musk and wildness. His hands are caught up in her hair, he's pulling her up and away now, "No no, can't, in you, please."
"Since you asked so nicely..." and she pulls herself over him before settling down.
They'd fallen into bed easily enough.
She'd thought she was drained after filming the battle with the Witch-King. Thought she'd get back to her house and collapse into bed, but when she got there, she couldn't seem to stay still.
Couldn't seem to stop thinking of Dominic, delivering his lines from the side as his scale double handled most of the movement. He'd do most of his work on this scene in front of a blue screen later.
He'd brought her tea during one of the breaks. No milk, extra sugar, the way she made herself a cuppa. She didn't remember telling him how she liked her tea, but he must have seen. The thought that he'd paid attention to such a silly thing made her feel warmer than the tea did, all sweet and clinging to her tongue. But not as warm as his hand did, resting in the small of her back, rubbing at the tension, that was far better than knowing how she took her tea.
Before she really thinks about it, she's gotten dressed and is driving over to him.
Standing at the door, she feels a moment of awkward foolishness. She rings the bell anyway and chews on her lip, waxy lip balm coating her mouth. He answers the door, jeans and bare feet, looking a bit confused, but steps out of her way.
"I'm sorry for bothering you. I just couldn't sleep. I thought I'd come over... Don't know what I thought you'd do about it... Stupid... I'm sorry. I guess I... I just didn't want to be alone." She doesn't look at him, feels the heat in her face and curses how easy her skin shows embarrassment.
"Miranda." Nothing more, not until she looks at him. His eyes are dark and his lips curve up. He looks gentle and dangerous and she can't figure out how he can be both at the same time. "... right?"
"Huh?"
"We're mates, right?"
"Yes." And they were. She wants to lick the curve of those lips, see those eyes fall shut, feel his mouth shape her name against her mouth.
"I help my mates. So if you want to stay here, you can. If you want something else, you can. And we'll still be mates in the morning, right?"
The knot she hadn't realized was in her stomach loosens, unfurls into warmth. He understands. "Right." And she reaches to him, lets him lead her into his bedroom.
He's in her, and she's quit teasing now, rocking hard against him and feeling him push hard up against her. His hand is between them, working at her and it's suddenly too much, she's jerking and gasping and he's pushing up harder, making it stronger, better. Both of his hands cup her hips now and he's frantic. She tries to get shaking thighs and complaining knees to help him, make it good and better for him, but she's gone limp and satisfied. Still seems he's fine, grinding hard against her, cursing, and then they're both still, sucking hot air in, little aftershocks of pleasure rolling through them.
"Dominic?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm glad we're mates."
He laughs then, and she has to taste it. Stretching up a bit, she fits her mouth over his and tastes... It tastes like nothing else, just Dominic.