Numb3rs fic: Resolution (Colby/Liz, NC-17)
Have some drunken New Year's Eve fic for your... January 4th. *cough*
Title: Resolution
Pairing: Colby/Liz (vague intimations of potential Colby/David, but... very vague)
Rating: NC-17
Summary: It's not his fault at ALL, because he was just STANDING here, minding his own business, munching on the chips and dip and sipping at his fruity drink and watching David try to flirt with a girl he thinks might be Don and Charlie's cousin across the room.
Word Count: 2121
Spoilers: Slight spoilers for 3x06 "Longshot" and 4x17 "Pay to Play."
Notes/Warnings: I wrote the first half of this while slightly tipsy on New Year's Eve. Then I wrote the rest of it today. It's the longest fic I've ever posted, and it was one of the most fun to write. Unbetaed. Thanks to mercilynn for her encouragement.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, nor do I profit from their use here. This is only for fun.
The New Year's Eve party at the Eppes house has become something of a tradition over the years. Sometimes Colby wishes he had more friends to go celebrate with, but such is the life of a law enforcement official. Who wants to go partying with the dude who's obligated to arrest you if he sees anything fishy? Colby would hate himself, too, if he wasn't so fuckin' great.
He's drunk. Don Eppes never throws a party without an ample supply of alcohol at hand, and tonight is no exception. He's not even sure what's in his cup at this point, but it's sweet and smooth going down, and he feels GREAT.
There are some people here he doesn't know, crowding the living room. Old family friends of the Eppeses, he thinks. He leans back against a wall, observing, in easy range of the buffet table overloaded with celebratory snacks.
It's not planned, it's not like... In fact, it's not his fault at ALL, because he was just STANDING here, minding his own business, munching on the chips and dip and sipping at his fruity drink and watching David try to flirt with a girl he thinks might be Don and Charlie's cousin across the room. And then Liz just walked up and settled next to him, bumping her shoulder against his and asking something about resolutions.
He hadn't thought about it really, before she asked, because he's not the resolving type. He rolls with the punches. He told her so and she laughed, play-punching him in the arm, and said she was resolving to stop putting up with his crap so much and NOW, it's five seconds to midnight and she's RIGHT in front of him and it's so not his fault.
She's grinning, eyes sparkling and happy, and he catches her laugh when she presses her mouth to his as the ball drops on TV and a cheer goes up in the room. One hand grazes her waist, almost hovering, and she presses in deeper for a second before pulling away, still laughing.
After that he loses track of her for a while. There are a few people braving the midnight chill outside on the patio and he thinks he catches a flash of the silver on her dress out there, next to Don and Robin. He finds Charlie and has him explain some sort of math shit about Sylvester's Law of Inertia because it turns out he actually understands BETTER if he's thrown a few back. He wonders if they could install a new work policy to reflect this. Hmm.
David struck out with the cousin, so Colby hangs out with him for awhile, passing him crudités from the table and getting his drink topped off in return. Teamwork, man. Cooperation. David is a really good partner. Colby tells him so. "Thanks, man," David says, slapping his hand down on Colby's thigh. It's sloppy, miscalculated, lands too high, and Colby pushes him away laughing, insisting he didn't mean it like THAT, jesus, but. It kind of put thoughts in his head. Fingers pressing into his thigh, up near his dick. He shifts, throws back the rest of his drink, and realizes he needs to go to the bathroom.
It's not all that long after midnight, so the party's still in full swing and there's practically a line for the bathroom downstairs. Colby makes his way upstairs, where it's quieter, and uses the one up there.
He's been to this house a number of times over the past few years, but he's not sure he's ever had occasion to come up here. The hallway has framed pictures lining it, and he stops to examine them, little records of baby Donnie's first tricycle, Charlie's first... calculator. Huh. Their mom is in a bunch of them, matching Charlie's curly hair, holding her kids and grinning at the camera. It makes him feel sad, and he moves on.
He's almost to the stairs when he hears somebody else's footsteps over the music and party sounds downstairs. He turns around and listens. One of the doors along the hallway is ajar, light spilling out along the crack.
It's Liz. She turns when he opens the door, but she doesn't look surprised. "Not very stealthy, are you?" she says. He rolls his eyes a little and doesn't bother answering. Instead, he glances around the room. It's got a twin-sized bed, shelves of books and sports trophies, and a couple pictures of Don looking about 17.
"What're you doing up here?" he asks her. She tilts her head.
"It was getting loud. I just wanted to be alone."
"Sorry," he says, but doesn't leave. If she gets to snoop around Don's childhood bedroom, Colby does too.
He scans the bookshelves, trying to figure out how much trouble he'd get in for bringing up the Hardy Boys next time he's talking to Don, and behind him he hears Liz drop onto the bed. It occurs to him that she used to date Don, and he wonders if she's been in this room before. In the bed. With Don. He frowns to himself, moving along the wall to glance out the window, checking out the view of the side yard and the neighbor's house next door. It feels like he's waiting for something. He doesn't know what. He shoves his hands in his pockets and turns around.
It takes him a second to catch his breath, looking at her. Her eyes are closed. A few stray locks of hair brush over her cheekbones and one hand is resting curled over her head, thin skin of her inner arm exposed. Her dress is short, and it's folded up a bit at the hemline where it caught between her and the bed, laying on display long, tanned legs. She breathes in. Out. In. Then asks, "Are you staring at me?" without opening her eyes.
Colby half-trips over his feet as he turns to focus on a framed graduation photo on the wall. "No," he says. He counts to five silently and glances towards her. She's watching him. He looks away. The room is quiet, far removed from the music downstairs, and he can hear every breath, every movement.
"Come here," she says. He thinks about the feel of her lips downstairs and obeys. The door is partly open still but he doesn't quite care. She grabs his hand, tugs, and he lands on his knees next to her, eyes wide. She sits up and clutches her left hand around the back of his neck, pulling him close to kiss. Her fingers are cool, sending a tiny shiver down his spine. She pulls gently and he falls over her, lowering carefully onto his elbows so he doesn't crush her.
This is crazy. She's spreading her legs under him and kissing him and the door is open and they're in the BOSS'S room and there are thirty people downstairs and he can't. Stop. He reaches down, trailing one hand under her dress, skating over her thigh to her hipbone, and rubs his thumb against her skin there, catching at the band of her underwear. She pushes against him, grinding up, and he bites lightly at her lip, causing her to let out this whimper-moan that cuts through him. He slips his fingers down low, under the fabric, and feels how wet she is, one finger easily sliding inside, making her gasp and buck when he rubs his thumb up against her clit.
He feels as hard as he's ever been, straining against his jeans, and it's a relief when her hands slide from his arms to land on his belt buckle, pulling it open and unbuttoning and unzipping and fuuuuck his whole body tenses with the touch of her fingers against his cock. She drags her mouth away, biting along his jawline, and it takes him a minute to realize she's murmured something.
"What?" he breathes.
"Do you have a condom?" she says again. He freezes, trying to remember.
"Uh, I think..." Reluctantly he pulls his hand away and sits back on his heels to reach his wallet. He opens it and flips through self-consciously while she watches him, all laid out beautiful and flushed on the bed.
He finds it.
"Where are you--"
He's off the bed, walking to the door, and she looks confused until he closes it. There's no lock. Colby chews his lip, thinking, trying not to be distracted by the taste of her lipgloss, and looks around, eyes lighting on the wooden desk chair. He carries it over, balances it under the doorknob, and heads back to Liz, who's laughing quietly. He smiles and she raises an eyebrow. "You ready now?"
"Definitely," he says, and takes another minute to toe off his shoes and strip off his jeans and boxers.
"You don't need to close the blinds?" He can tell she's teasing him, so he smiles as he glances behind himself at the window.
"Nah," he says, climbing back onto the bed, up between her legs. He figures the odds of Don breaking into the apparently deserted house next door and climbing upstairs to the room across from this one are pretty low. Hopefully.
Liz's dress is slinky and she shimmies out of it easily, half-sitting up as she pulls it over her head. Colby can't help staring at the splay of lace over her breasts, until her bra falls away and he's distracted by the perfect shade of her bare skin, dusky pink where it pulls tight around her nipples. He leans in to taste and she squirms a little, raking her fingers through his hair, tugging to pull him up.
"C'mon," she says. She slips her hands under his shirt, shoving it up until he complies and strips it off. She lifts her hips for him and he hooks his fingers to pull away her panties. He rips open the condom packet and rolls it on, then leans down to kiss her again, relishing the long press of hot, bare skin against his own. When he pulls away she smiles and says, "C'mon," again, softly, hooking her ankles around his legs and tugging gently.
He reaches down to guide himself, fingers brushing against slick folds as he lines up and presses slowly into her. She groans with him, eyes falling shut, and clutches one hand at his bicep, nails digging sharp at his skin. The other hand disappears down where they meet, and a second later he feels fingertips brushing against the base of his cock, pushing gently to guide him and then pulling back to rub at her clit. He pulls out halfway, pushes back in, tight and hot, and she rolls with it until he's picked up a slow steady rhythm into her. Her eyes flutter open and she smiles again.
"I wanted this," she says, rocking up against him.
"Wh-when?" He thinks about that day at the racetrack, when they first met. All the times he's wanted her.
"When you took me to that hole-in-the-wall honky tonk bar and tried to convince me that you actually thought Toby Keith was the greatest songwriter to ever live." Colby laughs, tucking his head to rest against her shoulder. Her mouth brushes against his ear. "It was dark. I wanted to sit you in that booth in the back where no one could see us and just. Do. This." She thrusts her hips up, clenching tight around him, and he bites her shoulder, soothing over it immediately with his tongue. After a minute he eases up onto his elbows, speeding up his strokes as he feels himself getting closer. He attempts a smirk. "I wouldn't've said no," he tells her.
She laughs and it turns into a choked off moan as he fucks into her faster, overwhelmed by the tight heat clutching him. He presses fingers into her hip, holding her open, and she rubs her clit faster, breaths getting desperate and high. He watches her as she starts to come, her eyes flying closed, back arching, and the feel of her muscles fluttering around him triggers his own orgasm, pure pleasure rushing through him until his thrusts finally stutter to a halt as they lie there, gasping.
They're quiet for a few moments. He can tell that the party downstairs is starting to die out, and he glances at the clock. 1:32.
"So, uh. Happy New Year," he says.
"Mmm," she says. "Best New Year's ever."
"You think anyone would notice if we just fall asleep up here?"
"I have a feeling they might. Eventually."
Colby sighs, stretching, and reaches for his pants.
Title: Resolution
Pairing: Colby/Liz (vague intimations of potential Colby/David, but... very vague)
Rating: NC-17
Summary: It's not his fault at ALL, because he was just STANDING here, minding his own business, munching on the chips and dip and sipping at his fruity drink and watching David try to flirt with a girl he thinks might be Don and Charlie's cousin across the room.
Word Count: 2121
Spoilers: Slight spoilers for 3x06 "Longshot" and 4x17 "Pay to Play."
Notes/Warnings: I wrote the first half of this while slightly tipsy on New Year's Eve. Then I wrote the rest of it today. It's the longest fic I've ever posted, and it was one of the most fun to write. Unbetaed. Thanks to mercilynn for her encouragement.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, nor do I profit from their use here. This is only for fun.
The New Year's Eve party at the Eppes house has become something of a tradition over the years. Sometimes Colby wishes he had more friends to go celebrate with, but such is the life of a law enforcement official. Who wants to go partying with the dude who's obligated to arrest you if he sees anything fishy? Colby would hate himself, too, if he wasn't so fuckin' great.
He's drunk. Don Eppes never throws a party without an ample supply of alcohol at hand, and tonight is no exception. He's not even sure what's in his cup at this point, but it's sweet and smooth going down, and he feels GREAT.
There are some people here he doesn't know, crowding the living room. Old family friends of the Eppeses, he thinks. He leans back against a wall, observing, in easy range of the buffet table overloaded with celebratory snacks.
It's not planned, it's not like... In fact, it's not his fault at ALL, because he was just STANDING here, minding his own business, munching on the chips and dip and sipping at his fruity drink and watching David try to flirt with a girl he thinks might be Don and Charlie's cousin across the room. And then Liz just walked up and settled next to him, bumping her shoulder against his and asking something about resolutions.
He hadn't thought about it really, before she asked, because he's not the resolving type. He rolls with the punches. He told her so and she laughed, play-punching him in the arm, and said she was resolving to stop putting up with his crap so much and NOW, it's five seconds to midnight and she's RIGHT in front of him and it's so not his fault.
She's grinning, eyes sparkling and happy, and he catches her laugh when she presses her mouth to his as the ball drops on TV and a cheer goes up in the room. One hand grazes her waist, almost hovering, and she presses in deeper for a second before pulling away, still laughing.
After that he loses track of her for a while. There are a few people braving the midnight chill outside on the patio and he thinks he catches a flash of the silver on her dress out there, next to Don and Robin. He finds Charlie and has him explain some sort of math shit about Sylvester's Law of Inertia because it turns out he actually understands BETTER if he's thrown a few back. He wonders if they could install a new work policy to reflect this. Hmm.
David struck out with the cousin, so Colby hangs out with him for awhile, passing him crudités from the table and getting his drink topped off in return. Teamwork, man. Cooperation. David is a really good partner. Colby tells him so. "Thanks, man," David says, slapping his hand down on Colby's thigh. It's sloppy, miscalculated, lands too high, and Colby pushes him away laughing, insisting he didn't mean it like THAT, jesus, but. It kind of put thoughts in his head. Fingers pressing into his thigh, up near his dick. He shifts, throws back the rest of his drink, and realizes he needs to go to the bathroom.
It's not all that long after midnight, so the party's still in full swing and there's practically a line for the bathroom downstairs. Colby makes his way upstairs, where it's quieter, and uses the one up there.
He's been to this house a number of times over the past few years, but he's not sure he's ever had occasion to come up here. The hallway has framed pictures lining it, and he stops to examine them, little records of baby Donnie's first tricycle, Charlie's first... calculator. Huh. Their mom is in a bunch of them, matching Charlie's curly hair, holding her kids and grinning at the camera. It makes him feel sad, and he moves on.
He's almost to the stairs when he hears somebody else's footsteps over the music and party sounds downstairs. He turns around and listens. One of the doors along the hallway is ajar, light spilling out along the crack.
It's Liz. She turns when he opens the door, but she doesn't look surprised. "Not very stealthy, are you?" she says. He rolls his eyes a little and doesn't bother answering. Instead, he glances around the room. It's got a twin-sized bed, shelves of books and sports trophies, and a couple pictures of Don looking about 17.
"What're you doing up here?" he asks her. She tilts her head.
"It was getting loud. I just wanted to be alone."
"Sorry," he says, but doesn't leave. If she gets to snoop around Don's childhood bedroom, Colby does too.
He scans the bookshelves, trying to figure out how much trouble he'd get in for bringing up the Hardy Boys next time he's talking to Don, and behind him he hears Liz drop onto the bed. It occurs to him that she used to date Don, and he wonders if she's been in this room before. In the bed. With Don. He frowns to himself, moving along the wall to glance out the window, checking out the view of the side yard and the neighbor's house next door. It feels like he's waiting for something. He doesn't know what. He shoves his hands in his pockets and turns around.
It takes him a second to catch his breath, looking at her. Her eyes are closed. A few stray locks of hair brush over her cheekbones and one hand is resting curled over her head, thin skin of her inner arm exposed. Her dress is short, and it's folded up a bit at the hemline where it caught between her and the bed, laying on display long, tanned legs. She breathes in. Out. In. Then asks, "Are you staring at me?" without opening her eyes.
Colby half-trips over his feet as he turns to focus on a framed graduation photo on the wall. "No," he says. He counts to five silently and glances towards her. She's watching him. He looks away. The room is quiet, far removed from the music downstairs, and he can hear every breath, every movement.
"Come here," she says. He thinks about the feel of her lips downstairs and obeys. The door is partly open still but he doesn't quite care. She grabs his hand, tugs, and he lands on his knees next to her, eyes wide. She sits up and clutches her left hand around the back of his neck, pulling him close to kiss. Her fingers are cool, sending a tiny shiver down his spine. She pulls gently and he falls over her, lowering carefully onto his elbows so he doesn't crush her.
This is crazy. She's spreading her legs under him and kissing him and the door is open and they're in the BOSS'S room and there are thirty people downstairs and he can't. Stop. He reaches down, trailing one hand under her dress, skating over her thigh to her hipbone, and rubs his thumb against her skin there, catching at the band of her underwear. She pushes against him, grinding up, and he bites lightly at her lip, causing her to let out this whimper-moan that cuts through him. He slips his fingers down low, under the fabric, and feels how wet she is, one finger easily sliding inside, making her gasp and buck when he rubs his thumb up against her clit.
He feels as hard as he's ever been, straining against his jeans, and it's a relief when her hands slide from his arms to land on his belt buckle, pulling it open and unbuttoning and unzipping and fuuuuck his whole body tenses with the touch of her fingers against his cock. She drags her mouth away, biting along his jawline, and it takes him a minute to realize she's murmured something.
"What?" he breathes.
"Do you have a condom?" she says again. He freezes, trying to remember.
"Uh, I think..." Reluctantly he pulls his hand away and sits back on his heels to reach his wallet. He opens it and flips through self-consciously while she watches him, all laid out beautiful and flushed on the bed.
He finds it.
"Where are you--"
He's off the bed, walking to the door, and she looks confused until he closes it. There's no lock. Colby chews his lip, thinking, trying not to be distracted by the taste of her lipgloss, and looks around, eyes lighting on the wooden desk chair. He carries it over, balances it under the doorknob, and heads back to Liz, who's laughing quietly. He smiles and she raises an eyebrow. "You ready now?"
"Definitely," he says, and takes another minute to toe off his shoes and strip off his jeans and boxers.
"You don't need to close the blinds?" He can tell she's teasing him, so he smiles as he glances behind himself at the window.
"Nah," he says, climbing back onto the bed, up between her legs. He figures the odds of Don breaking into the apparently deserted house next door and climbing upstairs to the room across from this one are pretty low. Hopefully.
Liz's dress is slinky and she shimmies out of it easily, half-sitting up as she pulls it over her head. Colby can't help staring at the splay of lace over her breasts, until her bra falls away and he's distracted by the perfect shade of her bare skin, dusky pink where it pulls tight around her nipples. He leans in to taste and she squirms a little, raking her fingers through his hair, tugging to pull him up.
"C'mon," she says. She slips her hands under his shirt, shoving it up until he complies and strips it off. She lifts her hips for him and he hooks his fingers to pull away her panties. He rips open the condom packet and rolls it on, then leans down to kiss her again, relishing the long press of hot, bare skin against his own. When he pulls away she smiles and says, "C'mon," again, softly, hooking her ankles around his legs and tugging gently.
He reaches down to guide himself, fingers brushing against slick folds as he lines up and presses slowly into her. She groans with him, eyes falling shut, and clutches one hand at his bicep, nails digging sharp at his skin. The other hand disappears down where they meet, and a second later he feels fingertips brushing against the base of his cock, pushing gently to guide him and then pulling back to rub at her clit. He pulls out halfway, pushes back in, tight and hot, and she rolls with it until he's picked up a slow steady rhythm into her. Her eyes flutter open and she smiles again.
"I wanted this," she says, rocking up against him.
"Wh-when?" He thinks about that day at the racetrack, when they first met. All the times he's wanted her.
"When you took me to that hole-in-the-wall honky tonk bar and tried to convince me that you actually thought Toby Keith was the greatest songwriter to ever live." Colby laughs, tucking his head to rest against her shoulder. Her mouth brushes against his ear. "It was dark. I wanted to sit you in that booth in the back where no one could see us and just. Do. This." She thrusts her hips up, clenching tight around him, and he bites her shoulder, soothing over it immediately with his tongue. After a minute he eases up onto his elbows, speeding up his strokes as he feels himself getting closer. He attempts a smirk. "I wouldn't've said no," he tells her.
She laughs and it turns into a choked off moan as he fucks into her faster, overwhelmed by the tight heat clutching him. He presses fingers into her hip, holding her open, and she rubs her clit faster, breaths getting desperate and high. He watches her as she starts to come, her eyes flying closed, back arching, and the feel of her muscles fluttering around him triggers his own orgasm, pure pleasure rushing through him until his thrusts finally stutter to a halt as they lie there, gasping.
They're quiet for a few moments. He can tell that the party downstairs is starting to die out, and he glances at the clock. 1:32.
"So, uh. Happy New Year," he says.
"Mmm," she says. "Best New Year's ever."
"You think anyone would notice if we just fall asleep up here?"
"I have a feeling they might. Eventually."
Colby sighs, stretching, and reaches for his pants.