La Femme Nikita, It's in the Blood, Birkoff/Operations
It's in the Blood
Disclaimer: I don't own them.
Not really super satysfied with this one, but revisions have refused to come.
Feedback, I want the good, the bad, and the ugly.
Operations walked into his room and flipped open the panel concealing a key pad. That gave Birkoff some idea of what was going to happen. He didn’t speak until the panel was replaced.
“What’re you doing here?” Birkoff asked, moving his mouth carefully. “Did something happen?” He knew it didn’t.
Expensive, soothing cologne was the first thing moving toward Birkoff as Operations walked over to his bed and sat down. His eyes weren’t on Birkoff’s, rather on the fading bulge and tinge of his lip. “I shouldn’t have hit you.”
Birkoff shrugged. He blinked at Operations and he blinked at his black bedspread. “You weren’t yourself.”
“I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” The truth was that Operations could still feel the satisfying sting on the back of his hand, the way it felt when he connected with the smooth face. His skin itched just to-
“I do try hard,” Birkoff announced, tearing him back to the moment at hand and looking him in the eye.
“I know. You work very hard.” He brought his fingers up slowly to Birkoff’s cheek, secretly enjoying how the boy couldn’t control his twitch. With his thumb, Operations gently soothed the mark he left by way of apology. Birkoff fairly nuzzled into the touch; he was always a tactile kid despite Section training. He blinked slowly and heavily looking for all the world like a sated cat behind his glasses. Operations leaned forward and kissed the path his hand abandoned, increasing the pressure.
Birkoff jerked his head away. “I think you should leave now. Sir.” He didn’t raise his own fingers to feel the bright blood Operations had released again; the boy had probably tasted it on his tongue.
Operations still could.
With a smirk and a little laugh, Operations towered over Birkoff and kissed his hair like he’d done so many times to Scott. Except this wasn’t Scott-there were no little boys in Section One-and it wasn’t a fatherly kiss.
His loafers made little thuds echo from the metal floor to the walls to the ceiling and Birkoff probably held his breath. Operations flipped open the panel again and pushed in another code before leaving. When he got back to his office he blackened the windows and flipped through the security channels.
Birkoff had already started. Operations could hear his little gasps as Birkoff tried to disappear in the black sheets. Biting his bleeding lip as he did.
When he finished, his bare eyes found Operations’ through the cameras.
Disclaimer: I don't own them.
Not really super satysfied with this one, but revisions have refused to come.
Feedback, I want the good, the bad, and the ugly.
Operations walked into his room and flipped open the panel concealing a key pad. That gave Birkoff some idea of what was going to happen. He didn’t speak until the panel was replaced.
“What’re you doing here?” Birkoff asked, moving his mouth carefully. “Did something happen?” He knew it didn’t.
Expensive, soothing cologne was the first thing moving toward Birkoff as Operations walked over to his bed and sat down. His eyes weren’t on Birkoff’s, rather on the fading bulge and tinge of his lip. “I shouldn’t have hit you.”
Birkoff shrugged. He blinked at Operations and he blinked at his black bedspread. “You weren’t yourself.”
“I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” The truth was that Operations could still feel the satisfying sting on the back of his hand, the way it felt when he connected with the smooth face. His skin itched just to-
“I do try hard,” Birkoff announced, tearing him back to the moment at hand and looking him in the eye.
“I know. You work very hard.” He brought his fingers up slowly to Birkoff’s cheek, secretly enjoying how the boy couldn’t control his twitch. With his thumb, Operations gently soothed the mark he left by way of apology. Birkoff fairly nuzzled into the touch; he was always a tactile kid despite Section training. He blinked slowly and heavily looking for all the world like a sated cat behind his glasses. Operations leaned forward and kissed the path his hand abandoned, increasing the pressure.
Birkoff jerked his head away. “I think you should leave now. Sir.” He didn’t raise his own fingers to feel the bright blood Operations had released again; the boy had probably tasted it on his tongue.
Operations still could.
With a smirk and a little laugh, Operations towered over Birkoff and kissed his hair like he’d done so many times to Scott. Except this wasn’t Scott-there were no little boys in Section One-and it wasn’t a fatherly kiss.
His loafers made little thuds echo from the metal floor to the walls to the ceiling and Birkoff probably held his breath. Operations flipped open the panel again and pushed in another code before leaving. When he got back to his office he blackened the windows and flipped through the security channels.
Birkoff had already started. Operations could hear his little gasps as Birkoff tried to disappear in the black sheets. Biting his bleeding lip as he did.
When he finished, his bare eyes found Operations’ through the cameras.