Ficlet (Hendricks/Gard)
I feel like I have spent THIS ENTIRE DAY on the cusp of a sneeze. I kind of want to itch the inside of my face. Ew.
Anyway, an Id-fluff ficlet brought to you by my need for a brain cleanser on my lunch break.
1057 words of Hendricks and Gard playfighting, because that is my favourite. Matureish, no warnings required, sexual situations but no sex, build-up-but-cut-to-black-fic.
We’d had an adventurous day. I stretched out on my bed and pondered the ceiling, trying to build up the momentum to go clean myself up. Distant clatters sounded from my kitchen, probably Gard in the process of raiding the fridge. She’s the master of locating cold beers, so it wasn’t long before she appeared in the doorway, drinking straight from the bottle.
“There you are, Nathan. Spent already?”
I huffed at her, starting to feel the pleasant ache of a day spent running around not getting killed by things twice as nasty and half as bright as I was.
She set down her drink, and then started teasing her hair out of its battle mode, tied away from her eyes. I watched. I had an ambiguous relationship with Gard’s hair, in which I really enjoyed looking at it but mostly couldn’t seem to touch without accidentally tugging. Gard tended to retaliate in kind. Watching was safe.
She caught my eye and then came over, setting a hand on the bed and then leaning in like she was going for a kiss. She held herself above me, hair falling to tickle at the side of my face.
“Hey,” I said, too caught up to be cool, but trying to play it that way anyway. “No beer for me?”
“I thought you’d be showering,” she said, and then shifted. Quicker than I could blink, I had a lap full of Sigrun Gard, looking very pleased with herself. “Apparently not.”
“I’d like a shower,” I pointed out, because it was clear Gard was feeling direct. I suppose it didn’t make much sense to clean up before getting messy again, but I liked to keep my messes separate. Gard settled herself a little more comfortably, and I rocked up a little, enjoying her warmth and weight. “Yeah. Five minutes, c’mon, let me up.”
She sighed, and when I pushed up, stayed over me without really trying.“Some day, we should play at having you try to move me,” she grinned, and then hopped off the bed in one graceful move.
“Don’t you get enough fun out of thrashing me at the gym?” I took her hand and she hauled me upright.
“At the gym, it would not be decorous to mount you and ride you until I had finished,” she said. I stumbled as some small but important part of my brain short circuited.
“No. Not decorous,” I said, and retreated to the bathroom.
The idea played on a loop as I showered, and I reached down to palm myself a couple of times, enjoying the thought. I’d need a head start, or Gard would need some kind of handicap, but then the point wasn’t really any reasonable expectation that I would win...
It was the kind of thing sensible people talked about. I was sensible in the office, it was kind of the whole point of my role, the part that was more important than being big and scaring people. But sometimes, deliberately or not, I ran out of sense when I had to apply it to my private life. So that’s how I found myself wandering out of the bathroom in my robe, with a wet towel balled up in one hand.
Gard was back on the bed, sipping at the last of her beer. She looked me over, a little bit predatory, like she might take it into her head to pounce. I trailed to a halt, and considered my chances.
“Have you become shy, all of a sudden?” Gard asked.
“...no.” I said, trying to eye the distance to the door without cluing her in.
“Come here then,” she smiled.
“Or... you could come here.” I said. “How about --ah!” Gard was up and moving before I had a chance to finish, and I should have given myself a greater headstart, but instead I just ducked and rolled, leaving Gard’s momentum to carry her into the bathroom with an over excited yell. I sprinted past the bed, and then turned to fling the towel as I made it out the door. Gard’s splutter of outrage startled a laugh out of me; I never thought I’d hit her.
“You’re mine, Nathan!”
I had nowhere really to run to, and couldn’t get there fast enough if I did, but I still skidded down the hall and into my main room. It was an open plan set up, so I dove into the kitchen area and crouched down behind the counter. The lights were off, so I hid in the shadows fighting my own laughter as I heard Gard stalk through the doorway.
I reached up and snuck a hand into the fruitbowl, rejected an apple as being a bit too hard and then grabbed an orange, before popping to my feet and throwing it. Gard moved, catching the fruit in mid air and throwing it back, smacking me in the shoulder.
Distracted by the impact, I nearly yelped as Gard followed the orange in a flying leap straight over the counter. I took some of her weight as she landed, so we only stumbled back a couple of paces instead of crashing into the fridge. Without stopping for thanks, Gard hooked my legs out from under me. She put me down carefully, ignoring my attempts to pull out of her grip, but not dropping me on the floor either. Somehow, I found myself flat on my back with her bare foot on my chest, trying to catch my breath as she hooked the belt out of my bath robe.
I wrapped a hand around Gard’s ankle, and she narrowed her eyes at me. “Try it, Nathan.”
I pulled, rolled, and Gard fell, but it didn’t do me any good; I ended up face down with Gard’s knee in the small of my back. She patted my ass. “A noble effort.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled into the floor.
Gard took my hands, crossed my wrists behind me, and then set about tying them together. “Oh, very nice,” she said, and I looked up, still breathing hard. “You got me,” I said.
“And I will have you,” she smiled. “Repeatedly.”
I swallowed. “If you’re feeling generous... ?”
“Try me, Nathan Hendricks.”
“Could you have me somewhere that isn’t the floor?”
She laughed, and set about hauling me upright.
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