Parks Fic: Forever
Title: Forever
Pairing: Ben/Leslie
Rating: R/NC-17 (this is smut...pretty fluffy smut, but still...)
Timeline: Post-Halloween Surprise
Author's Note: I guess I couldn't help myself. Is this an overload of post-5x05 fic, yet?
Ben’s arms tighten around her waist. Her feet leave the floor as he straightens to his full height, holding her to him, not letting go for one second. Her right shoe falls off and hits the wood with an echoing clunk, and he laughs a little, a sound she feels against her lips, through her chest, all the way down to her toes. When he sets her back down, she can feel the floor, cool and smooth underneath her foot, a contrast to Ben, who is all solid and warm and somehow so much steadier.
She wants to remember everything about this. The feel of his nose pressed against her cheek as he kisses her with everything he is, and the way the box is digging into her hip just slightly, and the curve of his lips against hers because he can’t stop smiling.
Leslie collects the happiest moments of her life like treasures. Held and admired; cherished and remembered. And this one-every second, every minute detail-she will keep forever.
Well, maybe not every detail. Like Martha clearing her throat loudly enough that Ben stops kissing her. He tries to turn, but Leslie won't let go of his lapel, and she goes back up on her tiptoes to peer over Ben's shoulder. "We're going to rent the house," she says a little more gruffly than she intends, but Martha has been such a cold fish all morning and now she's interrupting when all Leslie wants to do is go back to making out with Ben's face.
"I guessed that." A hint of a smile--a real smile, not that silly realtor one she's been using since Leslie met her--eases her features and she holds up the key Leslie had returned to her just twenty minutes ago. "I'll leave this on the counter, okay?"
"Great. Thank you." Is that curt? It sounds a little curt, but Ben's fingers are rubbing the base of her neck and it's distracting. Leslie drops back on her heels, still lopsided in only one shoe, and buries her face in Ben's chest. She listens to Martha's footsteps cross the room, passing the seconds with deep breaths meant to calm her down. It doesn't help, though, because she's breathing in Ben and he smells really, really good--like soap and aftershave and, yeah, also like he's been traveling all morning, but that doesn't even matter because he was coming to her to propose, and so she is willing to argue it's the best he's ever smelled.
When she finally hears the door open and shut, she lifts her head, but Ben surprises her with a somewhat messy kiss to her forehead. "Leslie." He exhales her name, the sound of it causing her body to tingle from head to toe, and she pulls him down for a sloppy kiss. "Leslie--"
It takes effort to stop, to make herself pause for a second so he can say whatever it is he's trying to say, even though his words have been beyond excellent today. "Yes?" she says; the word comes out all breathy, not at all like she intends, and Ben's eyes darken in a way that creates a storm of butterflies in her stomach. For a second, it seems she's stolen his words. His left hand skims down her shoulder, over her back, to her hip and tugs her body into his, and yeah, this is definitely affecting him as much as it is her.
"I would really like to put this ring on your finger."
Right. He bought her a ring. He bought her a ring and put it in that box--that box that has bookmarked some of the biggest parts of their relationship, but finally means they're going to be together, not apart. He bought her a ring that she's going to put on her finger and wear for the rest of her life.
Leslie is pretty sure she's never felt the significance of what forever really means until right this second.
Ben slides the ring over her knuckle, fitting it neatly on her finger and then staring at her hand like he's managed to stun himself. She wonders if he feels it too: the weight of this decision and what it really means settling over them in the form of a glittering diamond and the clasp of their hands; the absolute certainty that this is right.
Judging by the way he crushes his mouth back into hers, she'd say yes.
She wends her right hand into the short hairs at the back of his neck, clasping his shoulder for balance as he grips her hips. He's holding her so tightly that she's sure his fingers will be imprinted into her skin, but she clings right back, unable to be close enough to him. Absently, she kicks off her other shoe and sends it skittering across the floor, and the sound seems to break whatever restraint Ben has left. He tugs her shirt out of her skirt, pulling it up and off, stumbling a bit as his hands move to her ass and start to back her toward the kitchen.
"We're doing this here," she mumbles, not so much a question as an affirmation, but Ben nods, his nose grazing over her cheek as she struggles with his tie. Ben's so rarely like this--so rarely needs to have her right then and there--and there's something about the destruction of his self-possession that makes her own lust coil through her entirely. He wants her now, which is knowledge only made more powerful by the fact that he also wants her forever, and god, she hopes that word never stops making her feel like she's free-falling.
She doesn't flinch when her back bumps into the island in the kitchen, just pushes Ben's suit jacket off his shoulders and helps him shrug it off. It's a flurry of movement: his hands meeting hers as they work on the buttons of his shirt; fabric falling to the floor; Ben's fingers at the zipper of her skirt, skimming the waistband of her underwear as the material parts. There's something desperate about it, born in the unusual quiet between them--the rustle of fabric and their heavy breathing the only sounds in the otherwise silent room. So she's surprised when he suddenly slows down, stops his frenzied removal of their clothing to peel her skirt down her legs, dropping to his knees as the fabric settles in a puddle at her feet. His hands settle on her calves, fingers ghost along her skin and he looks up at her reverently.
"I've missed you."
Leslie nods, dropping her hands to comb through his hair. He shuts his eyes at the sensation, and then leans forward to press burning kisses against her thigh. "So much, Leslie. I've missed being with you. I've missed touching you without thinking about how it will be weeks before I'll get to be with you again."
The words are murmured like confessions against her skin, lips soft and warm, moving from one leg to the other, kissing up and down her thighs. His hands skate along her skin, bypassing the ticklish spots on the backs of her knees, but continuing up until they settle on her ass. At the same time, his lips move up her body until finally he kisses her in the crease of her thigh, nose brushing against her mound so lightly that it only makes her growing ache for him worse. She tightens her grip on his hair, and Ben takes the hint, moving to mouth her through her panties. She groans, leaning back into the island for support, her hips rolling mindlessly, and finally, he curls his fingers into the waistband of her underwear and removes them.
Time stills.
The late afternoon sun pours through the windows, illuminating the amber hues in the room, brushing across Ben's shoulders and lighting his pale skin in warmth, revealing subtler shades of brown in his hair that she didn't know existed. She can't take her eyes off of him. Ben stares at her, too, eyes raking over her body like it's a revelation, loving her without saying a word.
When his hand finally brushes through her curls, grazing over her outer lips, Leslie forgets how to breathe.
Every touch is slow and soft. She'd been dripping before he even touched her underwear, and his fingers slip against her now, finding her wetness and spreading it over his fingers and along her lips. She's lost in the sensation, eyes falling shut as she lets herself just feel Ben. He's right, there's something sure about this time that has been missing in their passing encounters of the past six months. It collides with her joy in a way she can't explain, but she can feel it inside of her, flickering through her body like fire.
His mouth falls against the sensitive skin above her hip and she cries out, hips bucking against his fingers. She can feel him grin, and then he drags his tongue down, simultaneously slipping two fingers inside of her and curling against her inner wall. When his lips fall against her lips a moment later, tongue darting out to work against the most sensitive places on her body, she tightens her hold on his hair and moans. He's lost in her, groaning and kissing her and exhaling worshiping expletives against her skin, and that as much as anything builds the sensations inside of her to a peak. He sucks her clit into his mouth, tongue flicking against it lightly, fingers still moving inside of her, and Leslie gasps--taking breath in but finding no way to release it. Her entire body tightens, seizing in one last moment of anticipation, and then her orgasm breaks over her in waves.
She can feel Ben, still kissing her, grazes of his lips on her skin and the softest strokes of his fingers as he watches her. When she finally opens her eyes, he's smiling at her, this look that lights up his whole face and somehow makes her want to start crying all over again. Instead she reaches down to pull him to his feet, squirming as he drags his hands up her body. Immediately, she reaches for the fly of his pants, unzipping him carefully and pulling his pants and his boxers down in one quick go. He's fully erect, his cock rosy pink and throbbing, and she reaches down to stroke him as he toes off his shoes and socks and kicks off his pants.
"Fuck." He groans the word as Leslie runs her thumb around the head of his dick, and her grin is lost in his fumbling kiss. His hands move to the clasp of her bra, undoing it quickly, and then he grasps her waist, hoisting her onto the island before she realizes what's happening. The hurried, desperate need that began this has returned tenfold, and there's something almost rough about the way Ben spreads her legs and steps between them.
She loves Ben like this. Unhinged. Slightly wild. Lost in his desire for her. It's empowering, both in the overwhelming way he wants her and in the purposeful need he shows in his every touch. As he slips her bra down her arms and leans down to lick and kiss and tug at her nipples, she arches her back and finds her voice for the first time in what feels like forever.
"You know this is our house now," she says, running her hands over his shoulders, neck, arms--any inch of him she can reach. "We could go through and christen every room if we wanted. Ben, it's ours. Yours and mine. Together."
She's barely cognizant of what she's saying, prone to babbling when she's not lost in her own lust, just knowing that whatever she's saying makes Ben go a little crazier. He bites the side of her breast, and she moans loudly.
"God, Ben--I never imagined this. I never, ever knew how perfect this would be. I--" She breaks off, whimpering as Ben trails his lips up her neck. His hands slide down her back to her ass, and he pulls her to the edge of the counter, his cock brushing against her clit. She reaches down before he can, grasping his dick and lining it up so he can move inside of her, stretching her, pushing deeply into her and making her gasp. She drops her head to his shoulder, and he breathes deeply, panting in her ear.
"Did you know?" she murmurs, raising her head so her lips press to his temple. "Ben, did you realize it would be everything?"
"I thought..." He drops a kiss to her corner of her jaw and then begins to move, finding a rhythm and causing her heart to skip a beat. "God, Leslie, I hoped, but this is more than I ever..."
He trails off, lost in thrusting into her, in the feeling and sound and sight of them together. His hands remain on her ass, holding her to him as he moves against her; he leans in to kiss her sloppily, hurried presses of lips and tongues. She can already feel her orgasm building again, and she moves her hand down to rub her clit.
"Fuck." Ben swears loudly, and begins to move even faster, pounding into her now. "Oh fuck, Leslie. God, gorgeous--Look--"
It takes Leslie a moment to listen, following Ben's line of sight down to where they're joined. He's moving in and out of her frantically, glistening between her lips, but it's her hand that's broken him--the glint of her diamond in the dying afternoon sun as her fingers circle her clit. It's overwhelming--feeling him hitting a spot so deep inside of her and the vision of them together and that reminder of what this all really means.
Them. Forever.
Her orgasm breaks over her so quickly that it's startling. Her right hand clutches his neck as her body contracts, drawing Ben further inside of her. He can only give her a moment before he moves again, a few more quick, frenzied thrusts before he groans, releasing inside of her. He falls against her, sweaty forehead lolling against her neck, and she wraps her arms around him, feeling this unending need to keep him close. They're quiet, just breathing, Ben pressing kisses against her skin while Leslie's draws patterns over his back with her fingertips.
Unfortunately, it's not comfortable. The counter is cold now that she's still and Ben is awkwardly hunched over, and Leslie is forced to face the fact that an empty house is not the best place for cuddling. Ben seems to realize this too, chuckling as he straightens up and kisses her forehead. "You said something about christening every room in the house," he jokes, and Leslie wraps her arms around his neck and smiles.
"Maybe it can wait."
"Furniture might be nice. A bed maybe."
"A couch." Leslie rubs her thumb against his skin. "Your desk."
"Yes. Absolutely." He leans in and kisses her several times in quick succession. "Yes."
She giggles, drawing her left hand over his shoulder to his chest and laying it over his heart. She can't help looking at the ring, and then lifts her eyes to find Ben gazing at her like he can't believe she's real. And it hits her, all over again, how lucky she is to have found him.
"Well," she says, wrapping her legs around his waist and pulling him closer, "we have time."
He nods. "We have forever."