Fic: "Accidental Discoveries" (Mac/Stella, Danny) NC-17 (for coclaim100,psych_30
Fandom: CSI: NY
Title: Accidental Discoveries
Rating: NC-17/FRAO
Summary: Sometimes one accidentally witnesses things that they never expected to see.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Property of Jerry Bruckheimer, Alliance Atlantis, CBS, etc.
Prompt: # 97-- Voyeur for coclaim100, #23-- Vicarious for psych_30
Pairing: Mac Taylor/Stella Bonasera, Danny Messer
A/N: Our latest creation for coclaim100. Companion to stellaluna_'s "Ways of Seeing." for coclaim100 prompt #4 -- Sight . Read it.
Feedback always welcome.
Danny drops the file that he promised to bring by on Mac’s desk on his way out for the night, noting that Mac isn’t in his office like he assumed he would be. His jacket and various other belongings are still around, so he must be somewhere in the building. Mac’s never one to leave early anyway, or if he does, pretty much everyone knows why-- that’s how close the team is. Danny doesn’t think much of it, really, and heads towards the locker room to grab a few things on his way out.
As he heads to the locker room, he’s running on autopilot, marginally aware of his surroundings. The lab is safe, familiar, and he doesn’t have to be constantly on guard while he’s there. When he get there, however, he hears unusual noises coming from the other bank of lockers. He freezes, habitually putting a hand on the top of his gun, listening carefully. They don’t strike his gut as ‘danger lurking ahead’ noises, but he decides to creep up slowly to see if he actually can see what’s going on, ready to react if for some reason there is something lurking around the corner.
He carefully moves so that he has a partial view of the back area, and… Well, he certainly didn’t expect this, he thinks. That’s Stella. And that’s Mac. Oh. Shit.
Mac’s got her pinned against a bank of lockers, her arms and legs wrapped tightly around him, clinging tightly as he holds her up. Her hand is spread wide in the short hair on the back of his head, pushing him to her as they kiss.
Her smooth pale legs are a shocking contrast to Mac’s dark pants. He wishes he could reach out and touch them, see if they are as smooth and soft as they look. He notices that despite the conspicuous absence of her pants, they’re both still pretty dressed, minus unbuttoned shirts and Mac’s pants being undone. Just the bare necessities for a quickie in the corner on a quiet night.
This is something he was never meant to come across, he thinks. Except he can’t tear his eyes away, no matter how much he tries.
As he watches, he realizes that Mac is so not in control of the situation. It’s very much all Stella, guiding and directing a majority of his movements. She pushes his head down gently, and Mac takes the hint, burying his face in her breasts. Danny can’t actually see them, but he’s gotten plenty of glimpses of them before and his mind supplies some images to help him along. She smiles and arches her head up, stifling a noise, making it obvious that Mac knows exactly the right things to do.
He didn’t even know they were fucking, and the familiarity that’s obvious in their movements implies that this is far from their first time. On one level, he shouldn’t be surprised that they’re together, but he just didn’t entertain that something like that would actually happen.
Man, she must be hot shit to melt Mac like that, he thinks. He knows she’s beautiful, anybody just looking at her could tell that. Smart, beautiful, curvy in all the right places and an attitude that could knock you dead as much as her body. Any red-blooded guy would want a piece of that action.
She’s got to have some sort of extra voodoo to get a man like Mac, so repressed and very particular about professionalism and projecting an image of being made of steel, to melt under her like that. To get him to give into having a clandestine encounter like this. Then again, he is human, as much as he seems to try to forget, and how could anyone resist a woman like her? Especially when they’re as close as they are to begin with. Them actually fucking is just a natural progression in their relationship, if Danny gets to thinking about it.
What he wouldn’t give to be Mac right now, in her arms, making her moan. Who wouldn’t want to be? He knows for a fact that Don would do just about anything, but doesn’t want to be the one to kill his hopes, even after seeing this. She’s fucking hot, and he’d gladly do just about anything-he imagines getting on his knees, tasting her. Turning the fact that she jokes about his constant chewing on pens and stir sticks into moans of pleasure. Bringing her to the edge and pulling her back, making her eat her words by eating her.
He’s painfully hard, and hadn’t realized that he’d been stroking himself as he watches. It’s like his hands are disconnected from his own body, some random pair of hands stroking him slowly as he’s transfixed by the tableau playing out in front of him. He can’t tell if either of them have any clue that he’s there, but by the sounds they’re making, he suspects that even if they do know, they’re well beyond the point of caring. Or stopping.
The little noises she’s been making have changed pitch, mixed in with Mac’s lower moans. Danny knows that Mac keeps well in shape, but damn, he’s got to be feeling it now, or at least will feel it later for supporting her weight and going about it as roughly as they are. Maybe tomorrow he’ll move a little slower, never making any outward indication as to anything being wrong. Maybe she’ll fix him up that night too- fuck him enough that he doesn’t care what hurts.
She makes a noise like Mac’s just hit something just right as he grinds into her, hands convulsively clutching at him. His face is crammed into her neck, like if he doesn’t see where they are, he won’t have to acknowledge the fact they’re in the locker room and admit the inherent risks that come with it. And he seems to be doing the right things to her neck while she’s there, her hands going white-knuckled on his ass in what’s got to be a bruising grip. He imagines little oval bruises haloed by red half moons on smooth pale flesh that he’d love to grab too, firm muscle under a layer of soft flesh.
Suddenly Danny wants to be her-to be on the receiving end of whatever’s driving her wild like that. He’s shocked and a bit scared, but he can’t help wondering what it would be like to have Mac’s big hands all over him, a body so similar and yet so different clawing at him and making him make noises of unbridled pleasure. To have a clandestine fuck, Mac bending him over a desk, taking him against the lockers. It’d feel so different compared to her soft, small hands and more delicate bones.
He knows this contrast well-gender hasn’t stopped him before, it’s just been a while since he’s been with another man. What body parts someone has doesn’t matter in his book as long as they’ve got the skill to back it up. What scares him is that he wants Mac. That he wants them both so viciously that he can taste it like the blood trickling into his mouth from biting on his lip so hard.
He imagines Mac kissing him, probably as thorough as he is in the trace lab, meticulous about every little detail. Big hands roaming up and down his torso, softer than they appear, teasing every inch they can find. Suddenly Stella’s hands are on him, moving down onto his hips and into his pants, stroking his hard dick, except Mac’s still kissing him, biting his neck and licking where his pulse beats through his jugular and he’s coming so hard…
His eyes snap open as he hears a shriek muffled by kisses. She must have just come, and looks like she’s trying her best to encourage Mac to do so, hands grabbing his ass tightly as he pounds her in a stuttering rhythm. Mac tries to hold back a groan, biting down onto her shoulder as he comes. She squeaks in pain, but as he lets up she settles down and starts stroking the spikes of his short hair.
Danny’s hands feel sticky, and looks down, realizing that he’s just come with his hands down his pants like a kid. He feels dirty, privy to something that he shouldn’t have been, a boy sneaking looks at his dad’s skin mags and beating off in the corner.
He watches as Mac shudders against Stella, slumping against her but still managing to hold them up. She murmurs to him quietly, kissing his head gently, and suddenly now Danny feels like he’s really crossed a line he shouldn’t have. He sneaks away quietly, moving towards the door. When he gets there, he starts acting like he’s walking in and making purposeful noises to that they know someone else is around now.
He goes to his locker, not making any acknowledgment of their presence there, acting like he’s completely oblivious, hoping that they’re too busy trying to straighten themselves up and hide to see the wet spot on his pants and redness in his cheeks, or even notice his complete avoidance behavior. He desperately hopes neither of them come near him, much less have a conversation. He’s sure he smells like come and is radiating guilt and embarrassment like a beacon.
It seems he’s going to be wearing home the dirty workout clothes he came to get. At least they’d make a passable excuse for his appearance, and despite the smell, a less embarrassing alternative than the current state of his trousers. He changes quickly, stuffing the clothes haphazardly into his bag, slams his locker door, and rushes out, never looking back.
Fin
9/06
Link back to table of coclaim100 prompts
Link back to table of psych_30 prompts
Link to all of my stories
Title: Accidental Discoveries
Rating: NC-17/FRAO
Summary: Sometimes one accidentally witnesses things that they never expected to see.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Property of Jerry Bruckheimer, Alliance Atlantis, CBS, etc.
Prompt: # 97-- Voyeur for coclaim100, #23-- Vicarious for psych_30
Pairing: Mac Taylor/Stella Bonasera, Danny Messer
A/N: Our latest creation for coclaim100. Companion to stellaluna_'s "Ways of Seeing." for coclaim100 prompt #4 -- Sight . Read it.
Feedback always welcome.
Danny drops the file that he promised to bring by on Mac’s desk on his way out for the night, noting that Mac isn’t in his office like he assumed he would be. His jacket and various other belongings are still around, so he must be somewhere in the building. Mac’s never one to leave early anyway, or if he does, pretty much everyone knows why-- that’s how close the team is. Danny doesn’t think much of it, really, and heads towards the locker room to grab a few things on his way out.
As he heads to the locker room, he’s running on autopilot, marginally aware of his surroundings. The lab is safe, familiar, and he doesn’t have to be constantly on guard while he’s there. When he get there, however, he hears unusual noises coming from the other bank of lockers. He freezes, habitually putting a hand on the top of his gun, listening carefully. They don’t strike his gut as ‘danger lurking ahead’ noises, but he decides to creep up slowly to see if he actually can see what’s going on, ready to react if for some reason there is something lurking around the corner.
He carefully moves so that he has a partial view of the back area, and… Well, he certainly didn’t expect this, he thinks. That’s Stella. And that’s Mac. Oh. Shit.
Mac’s got her pinned against a bank of lockers, her arms and legs wrapped tightly around him, clinging tightly as he holds her up. Her hand is spread wide in the short hair on the back of his head, pushing him to her as they kiss.
Her smooth pale legs are a shocking contrast to Mac’s dark pants. He wishes he could reach out and touch them, see if they are as smooth and soft as they look. He notices that despite the conspicuous absence of her pants, they’re both still pretty dressed, minus unbuttoned shirts and Mac’s pants being undone. Just the bare necessities for a quickie in the corner on a quiet night.
This is something he was never meant to come across, he thinks. Except he can’t tear his eyes away, no matter how much he tries.
As he watches, he realizes that Mac is so not in control of the situation. It’s very much all Stella, guiding and directing a majority of his movements. She pushes his head down gently, and Mac takes the hint, burying his face in her breasts. Danny can’t actually see them, but he’s gotten plenty of glimpses of them before and his mind supplies some images to help him along. She smiles and arches her head up, stifling a noise, making it obvious that Mac knows exactly the right things to do.
He didn’t even know they were fucking, and the familiarity that’s obvious in their movements implies that this is far from their first time. On one level, he shouldn’t be surprised that they’re together, but he just didn’t entertain that something like that would actually happen.
Man, she must be hot shit to melt Mac like that, he thinks. He knows she’s beautiful, anybody just looking at her could tell that. Smart, beautiful, curvy in all the right places and an attitude that could knock you dead as much as her body. Any red-blooded guy would want a piece of that action.
She’s got to have some sort of extra voodoo to get a man like Mac, so repressed and very particular about professionalism and projecting an image of being made of steel, to melt under her like that. To get him to give into having a clandestine encounter like this. Then again, he is human, as much as he seems to try to forget, and how could anyone resist a woman like her? Especially when they’re as close as they are to begin with. Them actually fucking is just a natural progression in their relationship, if Danny gets to thinking about it.
What he wouldn’t give to be Mac right now, in her arms, making her moan. Who wouldn’t want to be? He knows for a fact that Don would do just about anything, but doesn’t want to be the one to kill his hopes, even after seeing this. She’s fucking hot, and he’d gladly do just about anything-he imagines getting on his knees, tasting her. Turning the fact that she jokes about his constant chewing on pens and stir sticks into moans of pleasure. Bringing her to the edge and pulling her back, making her eat her words by eating her.
He’s painfully hard, and hadn’t realized that he’d been stroking himself as he watches. It’s like his hands are disconnected from his own body, some random pair of hands stroking him slowly as he’s transfixed by the tableau playing out in front of him. He can’t tell if either of them have any clue that he’s there, but by the sounds they’re making, he suspects that even if they do know, they’re well beyond the point of caring. Or stopping.
The little noises she’s been making have changed pitch, mixed in with Mac’s lower moans. Danny knows that Mac keeps well in shape, but damn, he’s got to be feeling it now, or at least will feel it later for supporting her weight and going about it as roughly as they are. Maybe tomorrow he’ll move a little slower, never making any outward indication as to anything being wrong. Maybe she’ll fix him up that night too- fuck him enough that he doesn’t care what hurts.
She makes a noise like Mac’s just hit something just right as he grinds into her, hands convulsively clutching at him. His face is crammed into her neck, like if he doesn’t see where they are, he won’t have to acknowledge the fact they’re in the locker room and admit the inherent risks that come with it. And he seems to be doing the right things to her neck while she’s there, her hands going white-knuckled on his ass in what’s got to be a bruising grip. He imagines little oval bruises haloed by red half moons on smooth pale flesh that he’d love to grab too, firm muscle under a layer of soft flesh.
Suddenly Danny wants to be her-to be on the receiving end of whatever’s driving her wild like that. He’s shocked and a bit scared, but he can’t help wondering what it would be like to have Mac’s big hands all over him, a body so similar and yet so different clawing at him and making him make noises of unbridled pleasure. To have a clandestine fuck, Mac bending him over a desk, taking him against the lockers. It’d feel so different compared to her soft, small hands and more delicate bones.
He knows this contrast well-gender hasn’t stopped him before, it’s just been a while since he’s been with another man. What body parts someone has doesn’t matter in his book as long as they’ve got the skill to back it up. What scares him is that he wants Mac. That he wants them both so viciously that he can taste it like the blood trickling into his mouth from biting on his lip so hard.
He imagines Mac kissing him, probably as thorough as he is in the trace lab, meticulous about every little detail. Big hands roaming up and down his torso, softer than they appear, teasing every inch they can find. Suddenly Stella’s hands are on him, moving down onto his hips and into his pants, stroking his hard dick, except Mac’s still kissing him, biting his neck and licking where his pulse beats through his jugular and he’s coming so hard…
His eyes snap open as he hears a shriek muffled by kisses. She must have just come, and looks like she’s trying her best to encourage Mac to do so, hands grabbing his ass tightly as he pounds her in a stuttering rhythm. Mac tries to hold back a groan, biting down onto her shoulder as he comes. She squeaks in pain, but as he lets up she settles down and starts stroking the spikes of his short hair.
Danny’s hands feel sticky, and looks down, realizing that he’s just come with his hands down his pants like a kid. He feels dirty, privy to something that he shouldn’t have been, a boy sneaking looks at his dad’s skin mags and beating off in the corner.
He watches as Mac shudders against Stella, slumping against her but still managing to hold them up. She murmurs to him quietly, kissing his head gently, and suddenly now Danny feels like he’s really crossed a line he shouldn’t have. He sneaks away quietly, moving towards the door. When he gets there, he starts acting like he’s walking in and making purposeful noises to that they know someone else is around now.
He goes to his locker, not making any acknowledgment of their presence there, acting like he’s completely oblivious, hoping that they’re too busy trying to straighten themselves up and hide to see the wet spot on his pants and redness in his cheeks, or even notice his complete avoidance behavior. He desperately hopes neither of them come near him, much less have a conversation. He’s sure he smells like come and is radiating guilt and embarrassment like a beacon.
It seems he’s going to be wearing home the dirty workout clothes he came to get. At least they’d make a passable excuse for his appearance, and despite the smell, a less embarrassing alternative than the current state of his trousers. He changes quickly, stuffing the clothes haphazardly into his bag, slams his locker door, and rushes out, never looking back.
Fin
9/06
Link back to table of coclaim100 prompts
Link back to table of psych_30 prompts
Link to all of my stories