Reconciling the dark
Title: Reconciling the dark
Rating: R for sexual situations.
Characters: Annie/Mitchell
Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine. But I love them and will take very good care of them.
Summary: Annie and Mitchell come to an understanding. It's not quite what he expected.
A/N: What can I say? I'm in the middle of numerous other writing projects that have nothing to do with Being Human, and then the smut-muse came along, turned me upside down and shook all the loose change out of my pockets, so I had to get this out of my system, and thus it's un-beta'd. It's not essential, but this follows on a few days after the end of Echoes of Sense, some of it might not make sense without having read that. Well, it'll just be PWP, really.
Annie was sitting on the red chair in her room, her legs crossed, leaning back, one hand under her head. She looked very much like she was deep in thought when Mitchell peered round the door, giving a courtesy tap on it as he did so.
“Hey,” he smiled.
“Hey,” she replied, giving him one of the warm gentle smiles he was beginning to rely on.
He took it as permission to come in, and he walked over to her, hands in his jeans pockets. He noticed her adjust herself ever so slightly upright, slipping her hand from under her head and placing it in her lap. He swallowed and took a long breath in before speaking.
“Annie,” he began. “Are we ok?”
“Yeah, we’re ok,” she said brightly.
He perched on the arm of the chair, folding his arms.
“Only it feels like you’re avoiding me since the other night,” he admitted, trying to keep his tone light, but knowing his body language gave him away. The shame of her seeing him in full, unleashed bloodlust still burned in his chest, and she was offering him precious little in the way of balm to soothe it.
“I’m not avoiding you. I’m just… thoughtful,” she replied, bobbing her head to emphasize the last word, her curls bouncing a little as she did.
Mitchell held back a sudden impulse to gently tangle his fingers in the curls, choosing instead to slide to the floor in front of the chair. He still hadn’t looked her in the eye.
“What’re you ‘thoughtful’ about?” he asked, sneaking a look up and back at her. He managed to catch her eyes, and recognized a smile in them - a secret one that didn’t quite make it to her lips, and he held his breath at what felt like an olive branch.
Suddenly she shuffled forward and sank to the floor next to him, her knees pulled up. She turned her face to him, resting her head on her knees.
“Lots and lots that I never imagined I’d ever have to be. Like, what do I do with a power that can blast people and wheelie bins 20 feet away when I’m angry?” she said.
“It’s something different for the X-factor, maybe?” he grinned, bumping his shoulder playfully against hers.
She smiled and rolled her eyes at him, bumping him back.
“Mitchell, I…” she began, faltering.
“No, go on,” he encouraged.
She sighed, looking at the door, and then directly into his eyes. He pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth, nervously waiting for her to say what was on her mind.
“You kissed me here, d’you remember?” she asked, and he blinked in surprise before nodding.
“Sure I remember. Was hardly a kiss though, not in comparison with…” he stopped himself.
“Well, I wasn’t asking you to rate it, just remember it,” she said firmly.
He nodded, chastened.
“You made me feel really safe that day. You always did, until…” she said.
“Until the other night, yes?” he guessed.
It was her turn to nod.
“You know how sorry I am, Annie. I hate it, and I don’t want to hurt people any more. You know I never want to hurt you,” he insisted.
“I know what you want, Mitchell,” she replied softly, and something crackled to life in the air between them.
He reached his gloved hand across to her face, rubbing his thumb on the coolness of her jaw line. Her lips were parted as though she had more to say, but she seemed to stall at his touch.
“Do you?” he asked, moving closer to her until his lips were centimetres away from hers.
“Of course I do,” she said, and he felt her hand against his cheek. “You want to take up where we left off, and pretend it never happened.”
He froze and pulled back a few inches.
“Is that what you think?” he asked, frowning.
“Am I wrong?” she replied, her hand still on his cheek, brushing against the stubble there.
“Yes! No! It’s more complicated than that,” he said, searching around for all the things he really should have been preparing to say to her, but hadn’t.
“So explain it,” she offered.
“Yes, I want to carry on from where we were. It was… it was great. And I thought you felt the same way. I know what I did was wrong, and I hate that you saw me like that, more than you know. But it doesn’t have to destroy more than it already did, does it?” he said, more pleading in his tone than he really wanted.
“I don’t know. I only just understand what it’s like to be so consumed with darkness myself. I don’t know what that does to anything else,” she replied, shifting her hand into his hair.
He paused before responding, partly to gather his thoughts, partly to indulge in the sensation of her fingers against his scalp.
“Annie, you make me better,” he said, and she snorted.
“Oh yes, I made you so much better that you decided to go back to the vampires and kill people,” she replied.
“Ok, you make me want to be better,” he added hastily, but she turned her face down.
He put his other hand to her face and turned her back to meet his eyes again.
“You make me believe that if I am better there’s something pure and good waiting for me,” he said, and he couldn’t resist leaning in to press a kiss against her mouth, just in case she never let him do it again.
The cool softness of her lips was agonizing, and he was about to force himself away from her when she returned the pressure, her lips parting slightly as her hand tangled in his hair. Just like always, he felt a blast of pure energy from her as she deepened the kiss, and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer. He kissed her like a hungry man, and every second she responded he felt fearful hope rising in him.
She suddenly shifted in his embrace, looping one leg over him, without breaking the kiss, so that she now straddled him. His right hand stroked the small of her back, and the pressure of her body against him accelerated the achingly strong reaction beneath her slowly rocking hips. She pulled back from the kiss.
“I don’t know where you’re getting this pure and good stuff from,” she said, and he couldn’t help a small sharp intake of breath as she tightened her grip in his hair. She had the intensely determined look in her eyes that he’d seen the first night they’d been together, and the sight of it sent an even stronger pulse to where he was already straining at his jeans. She clearly felt it, shifting the rhythm against him, watching his face intently for the reaction he couldn’t hold back, his mouth falling open, and the rise and fall of his chest speeding up.
“Oh, god, Annie…” he whispered, but she put a finger against his lips.
“Shhh. I am not pure and good, Mitchell,” she said, leaning in close to him. “I am more dark and dangerous than anything you know. If I’m what’s waiting for you, you’d better make damn sure there’s nothing I have to get angry about,” she breathed against his neck.
He gulped at the feather touch of her lips against his neck, the threat of her words like a knife at his throat. He’d had an idea in his head of Annie as an angel, pulling him to the light, rescuing him. He still believed she could be that, but as she grazed her teeth against the tender spot under his ear, he realized there were two sides to this, and no way to pull back once he’d stepped in the current. She was calling him up to light on one side, and on the other, she was hiding in the darkness should he fall back.
She pulled away, just far enough for him to focus on her eyes, blazing with danger and desire.
“Are we very, very clear on that?” she asked, and through his fear and want, Mitchell could sense his response was the hinge of something much bigger.
He caressed the back of her neck, holding her gaze, and nodded.
“We’re clear,” he said, pulling her down into another kiss, all tentative control discarded by both of them.
He felt her pushing his shirt over his shoulders, her fingers raking through the hair on his chest, her hips working in circles on his lap. He broke the kiss to rip his top over his head, pulling her back into the kiss without finesse, pushing up from the floor, her legs clinging to his waist. The kiss was like oxygen to him, he didn’t want to pull away again, turning around until he could lower her into the chair, his hands pulling at her top passionately.
She broke away, and he groaned in protest. She grabbed her own clothes beneath him, and there was the sound of the fabric tearing as she pulled her tops off and threw them aside. Her hands reached down to his waist and she moved against him, arching back, her head thrown back onto the arm of the chair. The rush of sensation against him together with the sight of her smooth skin made him dizzy, and he fell forward, his hands moving over her body, shaking slightly.
He took hold of her mouth with his again, tugging off a glove and slipping one hand swiftly down her belly and pushing off her trousers. He moved his hand between her legs and he couldn’t hold back a helpless sound of desire at her response to his touch. She clasped her hands tighter against his skin as his fingers curled inside her, the heel of his hand pressing against her. She didn’t lose control, though, her hands slipping from his waist, dealing with his zip and pushing it open.
She wasted no time taking hold of him, and he couldn’t hold the kiss, pressing his forehead into her shoulder in an effort to control himself against the electricity of her touch.
“One last chance to step away from danger,” she purred, and he pulled his head up to look at her.
“It’s too late for that, Annie. I’m already there,” he said, hitching his hand underneath her backside, lifting her up and moving into her, surrendering to the intense awareness of raw energy. The first time had been tinged with surprise and pleasurable disbelief, now as he moved strongly against her, watching her twist into his movement, he knew he’d reached a point of no return, where she knew him, and he had barely begun to know her. The power had shifted, and she was consuming him, and he didn’t care, riding harder into her, willingly falling into the abyss. She was almost glowing, her eyes open and her ragged cries finally forming his name. It was white hot against him, the tremendous elemental force of her orgasm flooding over him and throwing him into his. He shuddered, calling out incoherent sounds against her neck, thought overtaken by sense.
After a few minutes, he hoisted himself up a little and placed a tender kiss on her mouth, which she returned softly, no longer the bare force of nature she had been moments before. Her hands traced tender lines up and down his back.
They had adjusted themselves, a little while later, Mitchell sat in just his black jeans, Annie with her legs hooked over his, squashed comfortably together in the chair.
“What just happened here?” she asked.
Mitchell pressed his mouth against her forehead as he thought of his reply. What was it? An exchange? A promise? Alchemy?
“I don’t know,” he said.
“I believe you. Sort of,” she replied. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking that you are the scariest mix of dark and light ever,” he said, smiling against her skin.
“I’m thinking you like it,” she said, and he could hear the accomplished pride in her tone.
“You’re not wrong,” he laughed.
She looked at him, lifting her right hand to his mouth, running her fingers along his lower lip.
“I meant what I said, Mitchell.”
“So did I,” he said, stroking her shoulder.
She pressed her lips together and nodded, slipping her hand to his neck and settling her head against him again. He allowed himself to lay aside meandering thoughts of exactly what this meant and just enjoy the faint buzz of energy still coming from her. Consequences didn’t always have to arrive immediately.
Rating: R for sexual situations.
Characters: Annie/Mitchell
Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine. But I love them and will take very good care of them.
Summary: Annie and Mitchell come to an understanding. It's not quite what he expected.
A/N: What can I say? I'm in the middle of numerous other writing projects that have nothing to do with Being Human, and then the smut-muse came along, turned me upside down and shook all the loose change out of my pockets, so I had to get this out of my system, and thus it's un-beta'd. It's not essential, but this follows on a few days after the end of Echoes of Sense, some of it might not make sense without having read that. Well, it'll just be PWP, really.
Annie was sitting on the red chair in her room, her legs crossed, leaning back, one hand under her head. She looked very much like she was deep in thought when Mitchell peered round the door, giving a courtesy tap on it as he did so.
“Hey,” he smiled.
“Hey,” she replied, giving him one of the warm gentle smiles he was beginning to rely on.
He took it as permission to come in, and he walked over to her, hands in his jeans pockets. He noticed her adjust herself ever so slightly upright, slipping her hand from under her head and placing it in her lap. He swallowed and took a long breath in before speaking.
“Annie,” he began. “Are we ok?”
“Yeah, we’re ok,” she said brightly.
He perched on the arm of the chair, folding his arms.
“Only it feels like you’re avoiding me since the other night,” he admitted, trying to keep his tone light, but knowing his body language gave him away. The shame of her seeing him in full, unleashed bloodlust still burned in his chest, and she was offering him precious little in the way of balm to soothe it.
“I’m not avoiding you. I’m just… thoughtful,” she replied, bobbing her head to emphasize the last word, her curls bouncing a little as she did.
Mitchell held back a sudden impulse to gently tangle his fingers in the curls, choosing instead to slide to the floor in front of the chair. He still hadn’t looked her in the eye.
“What’re you ‘thoughtful’ about?” he asked, sneaking a look up and back at her. He managed to catch her eyes, and recognized a smile in them - a secret one that didn’t quite make it to her lips, and he held his breath at what felt like an olive branch.
Suddenly she shuffled forward and sank to the floor next to him, her knees pulled up. She turned her face to him, resting her head on her knees.
“Lots and lots that I never imagined I’d ever have to be. Like, what do I do with a power that can blast people and wheelie bins 20 feet away when I’m angry?” she said.
“It’s something different for the X-factor, maybe?” he grinned, bumping his shoulder playfully against hers.
She smiled and rolled her eyes at him, bumping him back.
“Mitchell, I…” she began, faltering.
“No, go on,” he encouraged.
She sighed, looking at the door, and then directly into his eyes. He pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth, nervously waiting for her to say what was on her mind.
“You kissed me here, d’you remember?” she asked, and he blinked in surprise before nodding.
“Sure I remember. Was hardly a kiss though, not in comparison with…” he stopped himself.
“Well, I wasn’t asking you to rate it, just remember it,” she said firmly.
He nodded, chastened.
“You made me feel really safe that day. You always did, until…” she said.
“Until the other night, yes?” he guessed.
It was her turn to nod.
“You know how sorry I am, Annie. I hate it, and I don’t want to hurt people any more. You know I never want to hurt you,” he insisted.
“I know what you want, Mitchell,” she replied softly, and something crackled to life in the air between them.
He reached his gloved hand across to her face, rubbing his thumb on the coolness of her jaw line. Her lips were parted as though she had more to say, but she seemed to stall at his touch.
“Do you?” he asked, moving closer to her until his lips were centimetres away from hers.
“Of course I do,” she said, and he felt her hand against his cheek. “You want to take up where we left off, and pretend it never happened.”
He froze and pulled back a few inches.
“Is that what you think?” he asked, frowning.
“Am I wrong?” she replied, her hand still on his cheek, brushing against the stubble there.
“Yes! No! It’s more complicated than that,” he said, searching around for all the things he really should have been preparing to say to her, but hadn’t.
“So explain it,” she offered.
“Yes, I want to carry on from where we were. It was… it was great. And I thought you felt the same way. I know what I did was wrong, and I hate that you saw me like that, more than you know. But it doesn’t have to destroy more than it already did, does it?” he said, more pleading in his tone than he really wanted.
“I don’t know. I only just understand what it’s like to be so consumed with darkness myself. I don’t know what that does to anything else,” she replied, shifting her hand into his hair.
He paused before responding, partly to gather his thoughts, partly to indulge in the sensation of her fingers against his scalp.
“Annie, you make me better,” he said, and she snorted.
“Oh yes, I made you so much better that you decided to go back to the vampires and kill people,” she replied.
“Ok, you make me want to be better,” he added hastily, but she turned her face down.
He put his other hand to her face and turned her back to meet his eyes again.
“You make me believe that if I am better there’s something pure and good waiting for me,” he said, and he couldn’t resist leaning in to press a kiss against her mouth, just in case she never let him do it again.
The cool softness of her lips was agonizing, and he was about to force himself away from her when she returned the pressure, her lips parting slightly as her hand tangled in his hair. Just like always, he felt a blast of pure energy from her as she deepened the kiss, and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer. He kissed her like a hungry man, and every second she responded he felt fearful hope rising in him.
She suddenly shifted in his embrace, looping one leg over him, without breaking the kiss, so that she now straddled him. His right hand stroked the small of her back, and the pressure of her body against him accelerated the achingly strong reaction beneath her slowly rocking hips. She pulled back from the kiss.
“I don’t know where you’re getting this pure and good stuff from,” she said, and he couldn’t help a small sharp intake of breath as she tightened her grip in his hair. She had the intensely determined look in her eyes that he’d seen the first night they’d been together, and the sight of it sent an even stronger pulse to where he was already straining at his jeans. She clearly felt it, shifting the rhythm against him, watching his face intently for the reaction he couldn’t hold back, his mouth falling open, and the rise and fall of his chest speeding up.
“Oh, god, Annie…” he whispered, but she put a finger against his lips.
“Shhh. I am not pure and good, Mitchell,” she said, leaning in close to him. “I am more dark and dangerous than anything you know. If I’m what’s waiting for you, you’d better make damn sure there’s nothing I have to get angry about,” she breathed against his neck.
He gulped at the feather touch of her lips against his neck, the threat of her words like a knife at his throat. He’d had an idea in his head of Annie as an angel, pulling him to the light, rescuing him. He still believed she could be that, but as she grazed her teeth against the tender spot under his ear, he realized there were two sides to this, and no way to pull back once he’d stepped in the current. She was calling him up to light on one side, and on the other, she was hiding in the darkness should he fall back.
She pulled away, just far enough for him to focus on her eyes, blazing with danger and desire.
“Are we very, very clear on that?” she asked, and through his fear and want, Mitchell could sense his response was the hinge of something much bigger.
He caressed the back of her neck, holding her gaze, and nodded.
“We’re clear,” he said, pulling her down into another kiss, all tentative control discarded by both of them.
He felt her pushing his shirt over his shoulders, her fingers raking through the hair on his chest, her hips working in circles on his lap. He broke the kiss to rip his top over his head, pulling her back into the kiss without finesse, pushing up from the floor, her legs clinging to his waist. The kiss was like oxygen to him, he didn’t want to pull away again, turning around until he could lower her into the chair, his hands pulling at her top passionately.
She broke away, and he groaned in protest. She grabbed her own clothes beneath him, and there was the sound of the fabric tearing as she pulled her tops off and threw them aside. Her hands reached down to his waist and she moved against him, arching back, her head thrown back onto the arm of the chair. The rush of sensation against him together with the sight of her smooth skin made him dizzy, and he fell forward, his hands moving over her body, shaking slightly.
He took hold of her mouth with his again, tugging off a glove and slipping one hand swiftly down her belly and pushing off her trousers. He moved his hand between her legs and he couldn’t hold back a helpless sound of desire at her response to his touch. She clasped her hands tighter against his skin as his fingers curled inside her, the heel of his hand pressing against her. She didn’t lose control, though, her hands slipping from his waist, dealing with his zip and pushing it open.
She wasted no time taking hold of him, and he couldn’t hold the kiss, pressing his forehead into her shoulder in an effort to control himself against the electricity of her touch.
“One last chance to step away from danger,” she purred, and he pulled his head up to look at her.
“It’s too late for that, Annie. I’m already there,” he said, hitching his hand underneath her backside, lifting her up and moving into her, surrendering to the intense awareness of raw energy. The first time had been tinged with surprise and pleasurable disbelief, now as he moved strongly against her, watching her twist into his movement, he knew he’d reached a point of no return, where she knew him, and he had barely begun to know her. The power had shifted, and she was consuming him, and he didn’t care, riding harder into her, willingly falling into the abyss. She was almost glowing, her eyes open and her ragged cries finally forming his name. It was white hot against him, the tremendous elemental force of her orgasm flooding over him and throwing him into his. He shuddered, calling out incoherent sounds against her neck, thought overtaken by sense.
After a few minutes, he hoisted himself up a little and placed a tender kiss on her mouth, which she returned softly, no longer the bare force of nature she had been moments before. Her hands traced tender lines up and down his back.
They had adjusted themselves, a little while later, Mitchell sat in just his black jeans, Annie with her legs hooked over his, squashed comfortably together in the chair.
“What just happened here?” she asked.
Mitchell pressed his mouth against her forehead as he thought of his reply. What was it? An exchange? A promise? Alchemy?
“I don’t know,” he said.
“I believe you. Sort of,” she replied. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking that you are the scariest mix of dark and light ever,” he said, smiling against her skin.
“I’m thinking you like it,” she said, and he could hear the accomplished pride in her tone.
“You’re not wrong,” he laughed.
She looked at him, lifting her right hand to his mouth, running her fingers along his lower lip.
“I meant what I said, Mitchell.”
“So did I,” he said, stroking her shoulder.
She pressed her lips together and nodded, slipping her hand to his neck and settling her head against him again. He allowed himself to lay aside meandering thoughts of exactly what this meant and just enjoy the faint buzz of energy still coming from her. Consequences didn’t always have to arrive immediately.