"Afterthought" - Tony/Ziva
disclaimer: So not mine. Just borrowed them for play. Put them back unharmed, but relaxed.
notes: Damn my pouncy muses. Fifth in a series, following "The One Where Blood Is Drawn", "Conversations Around A Kitchen Table", "Leverage" and "Pros, Cons and Blurry Lines". Will make no sense whatsoever if you haven't read these first.
The shift in tense is intentional, you'll see why. Also, we are back to "not safe for work" territory.
word count: 1,650
comments & feedback: very much appreciated.
Afterthought
It's dark in his bedroom when he hears the door slide open quietly. Soft footsteps follow, and when he cracks open his eyes, he sees Ziva standing beside his bed.
Of course. Who else would sneak into his bedroom in the middle of the night? Clearly just his ninja girl.
Well, okay, it's not all that clear, really, because he can barely distinguish her shadowy form from the darkness. But by now, he thinks, he might even know her shadows intimately, not just her curves and angles.
He blinks, and it feels as if he's not quite awake yet, but in truth he is glaringly alert and acutely aware of her presence. Her breath comes very slow, almost too relaxed. He knows her well enough to realize she is controlling it carefully. She tries not to give anything away, and that makes him itchy.
For now, she's just watching him (he knows she can see him just fine), and she is silent for so long that he finally decides to break out of this stupid game. So he sits up and reaches for the lamp on his nightstand. Ziva blinks a few times because even her eyes need to adjust, and he uses her distraction to swing his legs over the edge of the bed. It's strangely gratifying to see her look away for a second while a sudden rush of color flushes her cheeks. Yeah, he likes to sleep naked. She should have guessed as much.
Eventually she does glance back at him, even though she doesn't really look at him. She keeps her eyes lowered, and her gaze is dancing all over the place. He's not sure what to make of this, so he asks her, and a tiny jolt runs through her at the sound of his voice. Then she presses her lips tightly shut, and suddenly there's a weird expression on her face, some sort of determination that wasn't there before. Her hands come up, and she slips out of her jacket and then starts to unbutton her blouse.
Tony watches her quietly. He doesn't want to stare, but he can't help it, he likes her body too much to look away now. He didn't have enough opportunities yet to see her like this, and he is far from sated when it comes to looking at her.
"What's this about?" he asks, and she drops her blouse and takes a step closer towards him and still doesn't answer. At least not verbally.
She does drop to her knees and reaches out for him, though, and yeah, he should be embarrassed, but he's getting hard by the time she touches his knees and makes him spread his legs for her with the tiniest tap of her fingertips. All the decisions in the world can't take that away from him, and Ziva knows, of course -- knew it before she had the first button popped, probably. Being wanted is a turn-on of a very special nature.
"Zi," he says and watches her skin tighten at the sound and the new intimacy of it. She licks her lips, and her nipples harden and perk up while she scoots closer. She doesn't look up, just brushes her fingertips across his skin and lets them ghost all over him, exploring him until he gasps because she's touching him just the right way now, and her hands travel high on the insides of his thighs. She leaves goose bumps in her wake, and he can't stop staring at her, with his lips parted and his breath coming in harsh pants.
He wants to frown and ask her what she wants to prove with this, but he's not strong enough to do that, not strong enough to speak up and object to her touching him like she does now, and so he keeps watching her and runs his own hand up her arm and waits for what she'll do next.
Turns out her intentions aren't that hard to figure out, really.
Her grip is strong, no-nonsense, and he fights the urge to close his eyes and let his head fall back when she starts stroking him. He can't. He loves it too much, and there's no chance in hell he's going to miss a single second of this.
She leans closer, and the soft skin of her torso brushes against his thighs. Her perfect little breasts are so tight now that he feels overwhelmed by the urge to suck them until she finally loses that tightness of hers and makes a sound for him. Any sound, really. He knows he could draw one out of her if he tries hard enough, and he--
"Fuck," he presses out when she twists her hand just right and her thumb runs across the head of his cock. "Yeah... g--"
He loses the word he just found, and Ziva finally looks at him. Watches him, still eerily quiet, just jerks him slowly. It makes his head spin, and it leaves him so hard it's close to painful. And then he gasps for air and almost doubles over when her hand slides down his cock again and is followed by her mouth this time, and heat and spit and god, she's scorching him--
He pants hard and stares down at her naked back, and he can't get over the fact that she is kneeling in front of him like that and goddamn swallowing down his cock like there's no tomorrow. Reality is clashing badly with the images anchored in his mind, and honestly, Ziva, sucking him off like that? He's not quite sure which category this belongs into.
She knows what she's doing there, too. She knows her way around him as if they'd been doing this for years, and yeah, that may be just because he's a guy and easily tickled happy, but god. He groans when she tightens her lips around his flesh and her tongue does a weird little trick that makes him see stars. Part of him wants to stop this because it's all too much and too intense, but he's never felt so incredibly helpless before, and so all he can do is reach out for her and touch her back, to ground himself and to make this feel a little less surreal.
Her skin is all slick with sweat and almost as hot as her mouth is, but she still tenses slightly at his touch. Her rhythm falters for a heartbeat. And that's what finally pulls him out of this. Just enough so he realizes how bizarre all of this really is.
He slides his palm further down her back and feels her muscles ripple when she tightens her grip on his thighs and her throat does that thing again, the thing that leaves him all breathless and shaking and gasping for air. He wants this to stop, and he sort of wants this to go on forever, and he's never been buried as deep in someone else.
He presses out her name through his teeth, hard, and that's about all he can do right now: gasp her name and touch her back and feel her swallow hard around his cock. She's relentless, and he can't find the strength to make her stop. He's weak. He's always been when it comes to her, he's always been too willing and not strong enough to deny her, so he lets her continue, and it shuts down his mind and forces helpless little sounds out of his throat.
He stares down at her, at the back of her neck and the sweaty curls there, and while he runs his fingers through them, he feels her smile around his cock, and then there's her voice, suddenly, a rough whisper against his neck, and that's weird because she's still--
"You can never be my brother," she murmurs, and no, he can't, not when he sees her like this in his head and her voice with the hint of laughter ringing in it makes his skin tighten, and then suddenly her teeth are on his neck and mark him hard. And god, he loves every second of it. So fucking much--
He groaned, and there were suddenly more stars cluttering his vision, showering him with the intensity of coming awake too harshly, too suddenly. And then the lingering phantom feel of dream-Ziva's lips was too much for him.
He clenched his teeth and tried not to release the sound rising from deep in his throat. It would have been a weird mixture of release and frustration, and he knew that letting this one out would make others follow, so he fought the sensations washing over him until it was all over and he was breathing hard and drenched in sweat.
He blinked and stared at the ceiling until his pulse had slowed down again. It was tempting to let his thoughts run free with this one, to let images and feelings tumble through him and confuse him and jerk him around. Not going there was hard work.
His jaw hurt by the time he threw back the sheets. His whole body felt stiff when he stalked to the bathroom to clean himself up, and it was no wonder because he couldn't remember the last time he had been so tense.
A stranger's face watched him warily when he flicked the lights on, and he leaned on the sink and studied his mirror image cautiously. There was a lot of tension going on in the tightly drawn brows, and the angry emotion flickering through green eyes made his own skin crawl.
His hands clenched tight around the edge of the sink. He really, really wasn't up for this.
"Oh, screw you," he eventually pressed out through gritted teeth, but his twin just watched him in mock silence, unimpressed and not reacting to the self-dealt insult. He'd heard worse, after all.
notes: Damn my pouncy muses. Fifth in a series, following "The One Where Blood Is Drawn", "Conversations Around A Kitchen Table", "Leverage" and "Pros, Cons and Blurry Lines". Will make no sense whatsoever if you haven't read these first.
The shift in tense is intentional, you'll see why. Also, we are back to "not safe for work" territory.
word count: 1,650
comments & feedback: very much appreciated.
Afterthought
It's dark in his bedroom when he hears the door slide open quietly. Soft footsteps follow, and when he cracks open his eyes, he sees Ziva standing beside his bed.
Of course. Who else would sneak into his bedroom in the middle of the night? Clearly just his ninja girl.
Well, okay, it's not all that clear, really, because he can barely distinguish her shadowy form from the darkness. But by now, he thinks, he might even know her shadows intimately, not just her curves and angles.
He blinks, and it feels as if he's not quite awake yet, but in truth he is glaringly alert and acutely aware of her presence. Her breath comes very slow, almost too relaxed. He knows her well enough to realize she is controlling it carefully. She tries not to give anything away, and that makes him itchy.
For now, she's just watching him (he knows she can see him just fine), and she is silent for so long that he finally decides to break out of this stupid game. So he sits up and reaches for the lamp on his nightstand. Ziva blinks a few times because even her eyes need to adjust, and he uses her distraction to swing his legs over the edge of the bed. It's strangely gratifying to see her look away for a second while a sudden rush of color flushes her cheeks. Yeah, he likes to sleep naked. She should have guessed as much.
Eventually she does glance back at him, even though she doesn't really look at him. She keeps her eyes lowered, and her gaze is dancing all over the place. He's not sure what to make of this, so he asks her, and a tiny jolt runs through her at the sound of his voice. Then she presses her lips tightly shut, and suddenly there's a weird expression on her face, some sort of determination that wasn't there before. Her hands come up, and she slips out of her jacket and then starts to unbutton her blouse.
Tony watches her quietly. He doesn't want to stare, but he can't help it, he likes her body too much to look away now. He didn't have enough opportunities yet to see her like this, and he is far from sated when it comes to looking at her.
"What's this about?" he asks, and she drops her blouse and takes a step closer towards him and still doesn't answer. At least not verbally.
She does drop to her knees and reaches out for him, though, and yeah, he should be embarrassed, but he's getting hard by the time she touches his knees and makes him spread his legs for her with the tiniest tap of her fingertips. All the decisions in the world can't take that away from him, and Ziva knows, of course -- knew it before she had the first button popped, probably. Being wanted is a turn-on of a very special nature.
"Zi," he says and watches her skin tighten at the sound and the new intimacy of it. She licks her lips, and her nipples harden and perk up while she scoots closer. She doesn't look up, just brushes her fingertips across his skin and lets them ghost all over him, exploring him until he gasps because she's touching him just the right way now, and her hands travel high on the insides of his thighs. She leaves goose bumps in her wake, and he can't stop staring at her, with his lips parted and his breath coming in harsh pants.
He wants to frown and ask her what she wants to prove with this, but he's not strong enough to do that, not strong enough to speak up and object to her touching him like she does now, and so he keeps watching her and runs his own hand up her arm and waits for what she'll do next.
Turns out her intentions aren't that hard to figure out, really.
Her grip is strong, no-nonsense, and he fights the urge to close his eyes and let his head fall back when she starts stroking him. He can't. He loves it too much, and there's no chance in hell he's going to miss a single second of this.
She leans closer, and the soft skin of her torso brushes against his thighs. Her perfect little breasts are so tight now that he feels overwhelmed by the urge to suck them until she finally loses that tightness of hers and makes a sound for him. Any sound, really. He knows he could draw one out of her if he tries hard enough, and he--
"Fuck," he presses out when she twists her hand just right and her thumb runs across the head of his cock. "Yeah... g--"
He loses the word he just found, and Ziva finally looks at him. Watches him, still eerily quiet, just jerks him slowly. It makes his head spin, and it leaves him so hard it's close to painful. And then he gasps for air and almost doubles over when her hand slides down his cock again and is followed by her mouth this time, and heat and spit and god, she's scorching him--
He pants hard and stares down at her naked back, and he can't get over the fact that she is kneeling in front of him like that and goddamn swallowing down his cock like there's no tomorrow. Reality is clashing badly with the images anchored in his mind, and honestly, Ziva, sucking him off like that? He's not quite sure which category this belongs into.
She knows what she's doing there, too. She knows her way around him as if they'd been doing this for years, and yeah, that may be just because he's a guy and easily tickled happy, but god. He groans when she tightens her lips around his flesh and her tongue does a weird little trick that makes him see stars. Part of him wants to stop this because it's all too much and too intense, but he's never felt so incredibly helpless before, and so all he can do is reach out for her and touch her back, to ground himself and to make this feel a little less surreal.
Her skin is all slick with sweat and almost as hot as her mouth is, but she still tenses slightly at his touch. Her rhythm falters for a heartbeat. And that's what finally pulls him out of this. Just enough so he realizes how bizarre all of this really is.
He slides his palm further down her back and feels her muscles ripple when she tightens her grip on his thighs and her throat does that thing again, the thing that leaves him all breathless and shaking and gasping for air. He wants this to stop, and he sort of wants this to go on forever, and he's never been buried as deep in someone else.
He presses out her name through his teeth, hard, and that's about all he can do right now: gasp her name and touch her back and feel her swallow hard around his cock. She's relentless, and he can't find the strength to make her stop. He's weak. He's always been when it comes to her, he's always been too willing and not strong enough to deny her, so he lets her continue, and it shuts down his mind and forces helpless little sounds out of his throat.
He stares down at her, at the back of her neck and the sweaty curls there, and while he runs his fingers through them, he feels her smile around his cock, and then there's her voice, suddenly, a rough whisper against his neck, and that's weird because she's still--
"You can never be my brother," she murmurs, and no, he can't, not when he sees her like this in his head and her voice with the hint of laughter ringing in it makes his skin tighten, and then suddenly her teeth are on his neck and mark him hard. And god, he loves every second of it. So fucking much--
He groaned, and there were suddenly more stars cluttering his vision, showering him with the intensity of coming awake too harshly, too suddenly. And then the lingering phantom feel of dream-Ziva's lips was too much for him.
He clenched his teeth and tried not to release the sound rising from deep in his throat. It would have been a weird mixture of release and frustration, and he knew that letting this one out would make others follow, so he fought the sensations washing over him until it was all over and he was breathing hard and drenched in sweat.
He blinked and stared at the ceiling until his pulse had slowed down again. It was tempting to let his thoughts run free with this one, to let images and feelings tumble through him and confuse him and jerk him around. Not going there was hard work.
His jaw hurt by the time he threw back the sheets. His whole body felt stiff when he stalked to the bathroom to clean himself up, and it was no wonder because he couldn't remember the last time he had been so tense.
A stranger's face watched him warily when he flicked the lights on, and he leaned on the sink and studied his mirror image cautiously. There was a lot of tension going on in the tightly drawn brows, and the angry emotion flickering through green eyes made his own skin crawl.
His hands clenched tight around the edge of the sink. He really, really wasn't up for this.
"Oh, screw you," he eventually pressed out through gritted teeth, but his twin just watched him in mock silence, unimpressed and not reacting to the self-dealt insult. He'd heard worse, after all.