(no subject)
Rogue Agents in Love!
Pairing: Kellerman/Mahone
Warnings: Only for extreme silliness
Disclaimers: Alas, neither Mahone nor Kellerman belong to me. This is a very fluffy absurdity and I hope no one takes offense at my having a bit of fun.
Alex stirred in his hospital bed, sensing through his keenly developed...well, senses, that he was being watched. The room was cloaked veiled mantled-the room was mantled in darkness but through his long, sensuous eyelashes his pale- icy- adamantine-his adamantine blue eyes could make out the shadowy form of Secret Service Agent Paul Kellerman, looking oddly fetching in the scrubs he had “borrowed” from the nurse on duty.
“Son of a bitch...” Alex exclaimed, off-pissedly, reaching for his weapon which was conveniently sitting in the top drawer of his bedside table.
****
Author: Put down the gun, Alex. This is a romance.
Rogue! Alex: I don’t care if this is Harry Fucking Potter and Proctologist of Albuquerque, the bastard shot me!
Author: Believe me; he’s very sorry about that. And there’s going to be smut to prove it.
Rogue! Alex: Smut? With him?
Author: You’ve had a better offer today?
Rogue! Alex: You girls over at the fichtnerfirstand group have made me three or four better offers yourselves in the last 15 minutes.
Author: True but this is supposed to be a challenge.
****
Paul stepped out of the shadows, his heart overflowing with all he had longed-no ached-so desperately tried to deny...Paul tentatively stepped from the murky depths of the shadowy corner, his heart upchucking with all he had so desperately tried to deny, even to himself-all he felt for the stricken man who lay on the bed before him wearing a pretty blue jonnie that really suited his coloring much better than one of those awful white ones with the random patterns on them. Who designs those fabrics, anyway? Words stuck in Paul’s throat like a wad of Big League Chew as he silently, wordlessly, really quietly held out his peace offering.
Alex gazed at him steadily, trying desperately to maintain his composure. But it took more control than he could muster as his cobalt blue eyes wantonly caressed the tell-tale shape in Paul’s extended hands-a Whitman’s Sampler!
****
Rogue! Paul: Whitman’s Sampler? Hello I’ve been around long enough to know that only Godiva will do when you’ve just shot the object of your illicit passion.
Author: Are you sure? 'Cause the Whitman’s Sampler has that handy chart on the box so you never get a chocolate you don't like.
Rogue! Paul: Trust me on this.
****
Never before had the decadently sinful foil Godiva packaging appeared so sinfully decadent. Paul's hands paused, shaking-no trembling-no palsied-Paul’s hands paused, palsied with trepidation as he passed the box to Alex’s long, graceful-as-a Greek-marble fingers. Their eyes transfixed upon each other’s, drinking in the heat and lust and longing and crazed carnal desire, pushing aside their various attempts upon each other’s lives, not to mention some tattling to Mr. Kim they had both indulged in.
At last, Alex broke the silence.
“A lousy quarter pound box?” he asked incredulously. “I have one word for you: GSW!”
“I think that’s three words.”
****
Author: Gentlemen, we digress.
Rogue! Alex: Seriously GSW counts as only one word like FBI or CIA.
Rogue! Paul: No way. 3 letters =3 words.
Rogue! Alex: If it were 3 words there’d be spaces between the letters. Do you see spaces?
Author: Excuse me. Check out the title. It's Rogue Agents in Love, not Rogue Agents in Grammar Debate.
Rogue! Paul: Wouldn’t that be Rogue Agents in Grammatical Debate?
Rogue! Alex: No, it wouldn't. That would mean that the debate itself was being conducted in a grammatical fashion, not that the subject of the debate was grammar. I’d say it’s more a spelling debate anyway.
Author: Enough!
****
Emboldened-no brazenly emboldened now by the wanton-no already used wanton-Brazenly emboldened by the sluttish look in his beloved’s azure eyes, Paul tossed aside the coveted candy. Nuzzling close to Alex’s ear he whispered: “At your age, you should probably be watching the sugar intake.”
“My age?!”
****
Author: Stop that right now. Start over.
****
Emboldened by the licentiously slatternly look in his beloved's stormy, sea blue eyes, Paul lowered himself to the edge of the hospital bed. Alex gasped at the sudden closeness of the man who had run romped cavorted so often through his dreams. Or it may have just been that the other agent was sitting on his oxygen tubing. Leaning in close, inhaling at last the same air molecules Paul nuzzled against Alex's face with the innocence of a really big eyed puppy and whispered into his ear:
"Wow, attached earlobes! You hardly ever see those."
"No, it's a recessive gene," Alex replied, his husky voice breaking as at last he could speak the words he'd longed breathlessly awaited speaking uttering giving passionate voice to for so long. On the theme of breathlessness he added "Can you scoot over just a tad" and gave the tubing a yank. "Careful for the IV too."
Turning his attention back to the box of chocolates, Paul silently wondered if he ought to have sprung for a bigger box. How much action can a guy get for a quarter pound? He noted the tiny, stuffed bear sitting precariously in the folds of the red ribbon that wrapped around the box and hoped that counted for something with the angel of an agent who was now eying the box again himself with his cerulean blue eyes, and not looking too impressed. "Jeez," Paul thought. "What does he want from me? Collarbone and rotator cuff...it's not like I shot him in the head."
****
Author: A little more remorse might be in order here.
Rogue! Paul: Look, I’m sorry already but you know I don't have as much seniority as he does and I don't make the same kind of cash. Godivas aren't cheap.
Author: Don't cry to me about that. I sent you in there with a Whitman's Sampler. Plenty of chocolates in one of those and for a very reasonable price. Now let me spell it out for you: no remorse, no smut.
****
Slowly, languidly, lethargically, torpidly he removed the cover from the box and tossed it aside, never allowing his gaze to stray from the really wicked blue eyes of his fab fibbie. Taking out a chocolate, with only a nanosecond's downward glance to make sure it was milk chocolate because, sorry, dark chocolate does not cut it, he bit into it and sensually slurped out the creamy filling without letting a drop escape his lips.
"Now we're getting somewhere" Alex thought and he reached for one himself. His robin's egg blue eyes never blinked as he felt around for the chocolate with the lion on it, the one with the really gooey caramel inside and just as eagerly gulped it down thus establishing to their mutual satisfaction that they both knew their way around things that could be slurped.. "Let's get these out of the way" he murmured, deftly moving the chocolates to the bedside table. You only get 8 pieces in a quarter pound of Godivas and he was buggered if he was giving up another. Course, he might be buggered anyhow, but that was a whole other issue.
With fathomless depths of shame in his whatever-the-hell-color-they-are eyes, Paul...
****
Rogue! Paul: Fathomless depths of shame?
Author: Fathomless depths of shame.
Rogue! Paul: It's a flesh wound, for chrissake! You don't think he'd have done the same to me?
Author: Fathomless. Depths. Of. Shame. Don't mess with Mahone! Not on my watch.
****
With fathomless depths of shame in his fairly non-descript. eyes, Paul leaned forward and gingerly, almost reverently reached for Alex's cruelly abused shoulder. The musical popping of hospital jonnie snaps had never sounded so beautiful enticing alluringly enticing. A single tear rolled down his cheek as he viewed the wreckage he had caused. He longed to press his fevered lips to Alex's flesh, to beg for forgiveness, but he pulled away.
"So what kind of medical coverage do you get at the Bureau? Cause I have to say, its very generous for us at the Secret Service."
"No complaints there. The dental is awesome, too" Alex whispered in return, pulling Paul closer with the sonorously tempting cadence of his huskily seductive voice. “I bet you couldn't tell I've been wearing braces for the last six months."
"Really? Those invisible ones?"
Alex could only nod, unable to convey the words that could properly express how satisfied he was with his orthodontist, especially since the co-pays were so affordable.
"Wow!" Paul exclaimed, awestruck. "Well, your teeth look great!"
****
Author: Can we please stay on topic here!
Rogue! Alex: Well, excuse me for living. I just thought perhaps some of your readers might care to know there's more to a career in the FBI than getting shot at and blackmailed by international conspiracies.
Rogue! Paul: You're so right, Alex. A job with the Federal government is not just a way to serve the people of this great land of ours; it can be a challenging and fulfilling career. Check out www.usajobs.gov for exciting information about positions in your area!
Author: If you two don't start cooperating real soon, I'm going to change the name of this fic to Avocado’s Love Slaves.
Rogue! Paul: She can't do that, can she?
Rogue! Alex: She's the third person omniscient narrator! She can do anything she wants!
****
There was an awkward moment of silence-- A moment pregnant with awkwardness passed as they both realized the line they were about to cross: one meeting of their moist eager lips and first, they'd soon end up with kiss-swollen lips and second, they'd be melting into one another and there was no telling how that would effect their respective retirement benefits. One person? Two pensions?
****
Author: Ok, I think you both know what I'm going to say about whether or not an aside about pensions is appropriate in this story.
****
From beneath the feathery fringe of his millipede-like lashes, Alex's Windex blue eyes told Paul all he needed to know about what this god of a G-man wanted. And Paul meant to give it to him. He pounced into the other man's awaiting mouth and soon their tongues were sliding, twining, tickling, performing the tree pose, and running half-marathons with each other. When at last they separated, it was only long enough for them to assemble teams so their tongues could play a pick-up football game.
****
Rogue! Alex: Speaking of football, how ‘bout those Colts.
Rogue! Paul: Screw ‘em. I had the Bears with the points.
Rogue! Alex: Ha! They were lucky not to lose by 50.
Rogue! Paul: Well if those refs weren’t blind…
Author: Am I going to have to make this Love Slaves of Cell Blocks 32 to 68?
Rogue! Agents: We hear and we obey!
Throwing all caution to the wind and giving in recklessly surrendering themselves to the scorching flames of their raging carnal desire, jonnies and scrubs were deftly tossed to the floor leaving only bare skin quarter-acres of alabaster flesh to be voraciously devoured.
From beneath the sheets passionate, ecstatic, occasionally downright puzzling noises emerged. Certain things were discovered to be harder than either of them had ever experienced while certain other things proved to be tighter. Tumescent manhoods pulsed on both.Abandonment to the sheer power of their lust was likewise a mutual thing. Paul's eager lips landed in some surprising places; Alex was found to have pretty amazing flexibility for a middle-aged man recovering from a gun shot wound. The sheets were moistened in direct proportion to particular body parts being drained dry and, all in all, a good, fun, messy time was had by all.
Sated at last, they lay basked in the afterglow, entwined in each others arms, entwined like a spool of twine in each others arms. Paul gazed into Alex’s blueberry pie blue eyes and lovingly caressed his lover’s elegantly exquisite face.
“That’s a good, close shave you have. What kind of razor do you use?” he purred.
“You won’t believe it. All they have here are those cheap disposable "Good News "razors but damned if they don’t work as well as the “Gillette 17 Blades o’ Comfort” I use at home.”
****
Author: You two are hopeless. I officially give up. Apparently there actually are ways to slash Mahone that I won’t go all fan girl over.