[ The Mentalist- Fanfiction] Patrick Jane's second first time.
Done as answer to the prompt on the kick meme : "Jane has sex for the first time after mourning for a long time his late wife, but he gets cold feet and need reassurance".
"Do you think we should really do it? Because I'm pretty sure we shouldn't… I mean, I've waited for seven years to have sex again, what's another couple of years, eh?" Jane paces frantically across Lisbon's office, sweating hands that runs in his curls or tap his pants or on his pockets. He doesn't look at the dark haired beauty who's currently sitting on the edge of her desk. "Besides…. Seriously, here, of all places' I'm pretty sure it's unsanitary, and… well… I thought you were kind of devoted to the job, and this has nothing to do with being devoted to the job, so… eh…"
Teresa looks almost laughing at the man. Patrick Jane has always been in control since the day they met, he has never raved, he has never been in panic, and he has always been controlled. Apparently, though, when sex is involved, he does, and, grinning at crossed arms, she can't help but think if it's about sex in general that Jane behaves like a teenager at his first time, or is simply right now that he is panicking. After all, seven years without sex are always seven years….
"And… well, not that Little Patrick" at the mention of the nickname, she smirks, blushing a little as her eyes fall there, and biting her lips a little, maliciously, wondering how actually little "Little Patrick" may be. "I mean, I kept… using…doing things…not too often…and... and I swear, never here… and….not that I've never thought about you…. I mean, I didn't…well, actually, I did, but, well, it wasn't like it was…. perverted or… But, well, anyway, it's been a while… since last time I… I did it with… someone else… and… well, I'd hate to… you know, disappoint you, so, maybe… maybe we shouldn't… you know… doing it…not that I'd not like to, you know… do it with you, because… not that I'd jump on you if you didn't want to do it with me, but…. I mean… did I tell you I don't want to disappoint you?"
"Oh, so now you've changed your mind and it's just to do me a favor, how noble of you, Jane!" she theatrically exclaims, a hand on her chest to empathize the concept as she walks in direction of Jane, dark eyes and as resolute as never before. They have a deal, and she has every intentions of follow it. "Bullshit, Jane, you're just scared. You're getting cold feet but you're scared of admitting it."
They are facing each other, and as Lisbon looks at him in the eyes, Jane can only stares back at her gulping. Slowly, very slowly, without even breaking eye contact, she takes the lapel of his jacket in her hands, sliding the fabric away from his body. "But it's good. It's normal. It means you're still human. But… you don't have to be scared; you don't have to feel guilty. That's why I'm here. I'm here with you, Jane, I have you… I'm not going to let you down, you know that, right?" Jane nods in silence, closing his eyes shut as her secure fingers start the operation of unbuttoning his vest and his white shirt, sending them both on the soil with just one movement. He shivers when her hands start to draw pattern son his chest, when her nails leave small marks, red lines and minuscule drops of blond on their way to his navel.
Even with everything he said and knows about control of biological reactions, he can't control it. he can't control the heat running through his veins like fire, he can't control his erratic breathing, he can't control his quick heart, he can't, and isn't sure he wants to, fight his length getting harder and harder, wishing for her, needing her, craving her…
"Everything's ok, Jane, I'm here, I'm going to help you…." She can still feel him tense as she whispers the words in his lobe while sucking and licking it. She can't resist biting it afterwards, and it's with pleasure and giggles that his reactions- shivers and moans of approval - are welcomed by the agent.
She makes her way from the lobe to his nipples with licking and kissing and sucking of her expert mouth, tracing the same amount of red skin she left previously while scratching him, but it's only when she reaches them and takes one in her mouth, playing with is as she'd like to see Jane playing with her own, encircling it with her tongue and her biting it sensually, that she makes quick work of his button.
Jane is standing in front of her, as bare as the day he was born, obviously excited by what's to come if the size of his arousal (and, grinning, she realizes that she was right, it's quite the size) is of any indication, but he is still tense. It's not good, she doesn't want to see a tense Jane, she wants to see a Jane who'll enjoy it totally and will be crazy about the things she'll do to him.
Maybe it's just because he is still the only one naked, though…. So, she decides to do something about it. Taking another step closer to the man, putting both hands on his chest, she literally throws his to seat on the couch, and stands, right before him, her core at eyes' level. He is still tense, but at least, as he gulps, he no longer avoids looking at her as she slowly, very slowly, carefully undress her, sensually, like in a striptease. When, a lifetime later, she is finally as bare as him, he traces with his eyes something he hasn't seen in a long time.
The sense of marvel is clear in the cerulean orbs, as he studies the female alive naked body in front of him, shining in arousal and need and wants and sweat while licking his lips. Again, she giggles seeing him, still a bit tense but a predator nevertheless- a predator with quite the attribute, if she can say such. She doesn't know if being thrilled or scared by the idea of having something like that inside of her…
"Lisbon, I'm not sure…." He tentatively says once again, but she simply silences him by putting a finger on his lips. Closing his eyes, he moans in pleasure as she runs it along his lips, and he licks just the fingertip. Smiling, she removes it from the sexy red pearls, and runs it along his body, until she interlaces his fingers, of both hands, with her owns.
"Hush, Jane, don't be scared. I'm here for you. I'll help you along….." Not that he seems to need any help, from his arousal. "Besides, I'm sure that it will come back to you as soon as we'll get started." Saying so with a small smile, she puts his left hand on a breast, and the other one on her core, outside of it, then, sweetly, she smiles at the man who has in his hands, literally. "Do it, Jane, I'm here for you. Do as you prefer. Go where you want to, and I'll follow" she removes her hands, leaving free reign to the male, and affectionately plays with his curls, her smile getting bigger second by second. She is so happy she could cry, because this is just… she is not happy for herself (not that she minds the sex with Jane), but… the way he breathes in and out her intimate scent, the way he looks at her body with both fascination and adoration, it's simply… there's something about it, about him starting to move on, even if only sexually speaking, that makes her cry.
If they weren't naked, if they weren't going to have sex, she'd probably seem a mother with her child, so sappy and moved and affectionate she is by the person in her (figuratively speaking) arms.
She looks tenderly at him looking with reverence at his hands on her. She isn't going to touch him with her hands or her tongue- she knows that his arousal couldn't deal with it, that it's been too long, so long that he'll probably erupt at the smallest contact. But it doesn't matter how long it will last, she doesn't care. This isn't comfort sex but this isn't just sex either. This is Jane finally finding his sexuality again after so long, finally enjoying the pleasure of the skin against skin contact after so many years. This is for him and for him only. He'll have his release, and he'll have it inside if her- she'll never allow anything else.
"I forgot how beautiful it is" he murmurs as he traces with his fingers her sex, while his other hand rubs her nipple, hardening it. She'd want to look at Jane, focused on her core, almost nuzzling it, but she can't. she throws her head back moaning, purrs leaving her lips as he smiles when he finally puts two fingers inside of her, exploring the deepness that it Lisbon while nuzzling her groin, kissing it with open mouth kisses, almost devouring it, but still with devotion, an unbelievable devotion. She feels the beginning of a smile, although sad, on her skin, and she is pretty sure he is crying at the sudden confession, a confessions that, she is pretty sure, it's terrible painful for the man who's doing sinful things to her body. "I forgot how I used to feel… I… I missed it….I know I shouldn't…" after having whispered the words, Jane brings his hands to her hips, brining her closer to him, invading her core with his mouth and his tongue, still in tears, divided between the pleasure he wants and needs to feel and the fear and the guilt. Fighting back her own tears, Lisbon brings her arms around his neck, letting her fingers play with his curls, gripping them like for dear life, encouraging his thrust - the ones of his tongue - encouraging him to go deeper, stronger, to touch and lick and suck her with his tongue and his lips just where she wants to be touched, all without words.
Her voice is needed for something else, to encourage him in another way, in another department. "It's ok, Jane, it is ok to feel again. You don't have to feel guilty… She'd want you to live, to enjoy life… wouldn't you want that for her as well?" she murmurs, while he simply nods, his mouth still buried in her; he is still crying, though, she feels on the tender skin of her legs the salty liquid as suddenly, without warning, spasms of pure pleasure, of deep ecstasy take her over the edge. She tastes her own blood as she silences her cries of pleasure, the outcome of her sudden and a bit unexpected orgasm by biting her lips. Inside her, she feels Jane grinning and smiling, the tip of his tongue touching her clit for the last time; it's just a bit, a small smile, but it's a start.
"Maybe I should reciprocate…." She asks seductively with allusion as, finally, he frees her sex from his feral lips, his fingers now busy drawing imaginaries drawings on her pale skin. He shakes his head in a not so sure "not" as he licks his lips, like he would commit her taste to his sensorial memory, or like he could taste her even better by doing this. He looks at her in the eyes, smiling again of that sad smile, but not talking. She doesn't know if it's his way of asking her if she is ok with this, or of asking himself. Between the two of them, he is the more troubled by this: of that much she is sure. After all, she can always qualify this like another one night stand- it's not like she has never had one night stands with co-workers, even if she shouldn't - but for Jane is different. This is his first time after his wife. This goes way deeper than mere sex, of mere sexual gratification. That's why he asked her, begged her to do it. He needed, still needs someone he trusts for doing this. It couldn't be a whore, a one night stand met at the bar, drunken sex. She was, always has been, the only one he could see doing this with… and they both know it.
Without adding further words, she slowly straddles his waist, like to give him time to say no. She cups his face with her hands, forcing Jane to keep eye contact. He kisses the palms of her hands as he gasps feeling her wet and thigh channel surrounding his length. He probably could come undone just by that.
He keeps crying in her shoulder while nuzzling her chest, his hands gripping her waist, when she starts to move at a slow pace in small circles on top of him. "It's all right, Jane, It's all right, I'm here for you… everything's all right… everything will be fine" she whispers between moans and feline sounds like purrs and mews.
As he finally starts to meet her, moving according to her own pace, meeting Lisbon thrust for thrust, as he concentrates on the sounds she emits, on her irregular heartbeats, unsteady breathing and low voice, he can't help but regret this- not having begged this amazing woman for sex, but they way he is taking her. He should have taken her slowly, way slower than this, he should have been on top in a real bed, in a real room, surrounded by Egyptian cotton or pale silk (not red, never red, because she is Lisbon, not some cheap and sophomoric whore), candles and flowers. He should have made her a French dinner. He should have guided her to beg after a heavy and sexy session of make out, gradually, he should have been the one undressing her, she should have been the one shy and unsure about this… instead, their coupling is rather erratic, she is riding him on her couch, in her office at the CBI, they are quite cold because there are no covers of any kind and he can only smells her and the coffee that fell on the couch in the morning - the only thing he got to offer her. He has been the one begging her to take him, they haven't kissed yet - they even haven't used first names - and she had to force the clothes out of his body and kept reassuring him, all the way until now.
What a stupid, he thinks of himself, ruining this way what should have been the greatest of his memories, the happiest one, a perfect moment, the moment he was supposed to tell her, to explain her why her, of all, why he couldn't choose any other way, why she has always been the one, the only one…
"I'm here, Jane, I'm here, let it go, I got you, I got you, Jane…" again she takes his curls in her hands, gripping them, forcing the man to look at her. She knows he wasn't, isn't in the moment, there with her, but the place is unknown to her. She wonders if he is thinking of his wife, of Red John, or who else. Maybe it's the hated Kristina to fill his mind and fantasies…
Reciprocating her actions, he grips Lisbon for the back of her head, forcing her to lower it, her lips a breathing away from his own. He doesn't close his eyes as he whispers, husky and with desire, low and seductive voice, her name, her given name, before capturing her lips in a frantic kiss, sensual and erotic as nothing she has ever experienced before. He bites her lips moaning hard as he comes when he senses her tightening around him, his release triggering her second, already imminent one- and he was scared she'd not come not even once, so out of shape as he was.
Long, very long, extremely long few minutes later, mere minutes later, he is still intimately buried in her, without the desire the let it go of her, of this; his head rests in the valley of her breasts, while she keeps playing with his curls, even more affectionately then before, her mind going in places it shouldn't go. The kiss has been unexpected, Jane, Patrick, using her name has been unexpected, this weird emotions, this jumping and trembling heart has been unexpected. She wasn't even supposed to enjoy this, it was all about him, and instead… she got outsmarted, in a certain sense, by Jane, as always, and just because of a kiss and the whispering of her given name. Just those triggered something in her, something that screams that, whatever they did, it hasn't been merely sex, it hasn't been merely a one night stand, even if it is what they wanted, what they want, it to be, what they needed and need it to be. Thinking of it as something any different… it's simply too scary for Lisbon.
She wasn't, isn't supposed to have feelings, to feel these things, but she does. It's quite scary, also because, as much as he cares, as much as he trusts her, she doubts that there's any chance of having that part of him, of being able to fix
that part of him… she should have never done it, Lisbon is well aware of this fact, but she couldn't help it, she felt like she had to. As soon as Jane has asked her to, has begged her to… Now, as always, as with everyone, she is going to suffer because she feels the constant need to fix and make everybody happy, everybody but her.
"Ehy, it's all right, it is ok" as she feels him breathing deep in and out, she still can't help but worry about him, reassure him, put everyone first but her. And Jane, Patrick Jane, as damaged as he is, as suffering as he is, as broken as he is, he is her favorite "toy" to fix and help and care. The fact that she has always had a little crush, a small thing for him doesn't help her cause either.
"We were 13 when we got together for the first time. Since then, even if we went on and off for a while, it has always been about the two of us" he whispers, so low she barely hears him. Her heart stops, because he is being sincere and open, he is confessing her something about his past, an unusual and rare event, but welcome nevertheless. Besides, those words… they add meaning to what they have just done. "Angela has been my only one… until now… and… I don't regret this…. I could never regret it… not with you… but… I know you have… needs… and urges… and… I'm not sure…" She silences him with a sensual, slow, sweet, loving, tender and full of promises kiss, without even allowing Jane to end his sentence. She smiles on his lips as he grabs her for her dark hair, deepening furthermore the lips-to-lips contact.
Maybe, just maybe, she has a fraction of that part of him, and maybe, just maybe, she'll be able to fix him a little.