"Liberated" - Tony/Ziva, and more kissing
disclaimer: Not mine. Just borrowed them for play. Put them back where they belong.
setting: NCIS, about a week after 7x18 "Jurisdiction" and a sequel to "Adventurous", where they did the movie date and a bit more. No spoilers in here, really, just smoochies. ;)
word count: around 1,900
comments & feedback: very much appreciated.
Enjoy.
Liberated
by Sammy
One kiss that had happened out of a whim when she hadn't been thinking too clearly. Just one brush of the lips, one sharing of breath, and it had shifted their perception and opened floodgates they both hadn't known were there. After that kiss, it was hard to go back to normal and pretend it never happened, especially for Tony.
At least that was how it seemed like to Ziva.
He kept touching her involuntarily after that Friday night, sometimes just nudging her arm, other times brushing his hand down her back distractedly, mostly for no good reason at all but the simple comfort of touch. Oh yes, he had done that before, but never with the intensity and frequency he was showing lately. He also made a habit out of leaning in closer than usual when he was looking over her shoulder at her monitor, and that, too, happened more often than it had just a week ago. Sometimes he even played with her hair, and that was so much crossing the line it even earned him a headslap once.
Most of the time he didn't even seem to notice what he was doing, though, and that made it so hard for her to ignore it and even harder to think of a way to make him stop. It was as if he had found just another way of taunting her and was pouncing on it like a kid would abuse a new toy to the limit of breaking. His constant presence and his strangely intimate ways around her were driving her mad, slowly. No, actually - they were driving her mad rather rapidly.
He was at her side again the night she finally snapped. They'd been here all day, cramped up behind their desks without getting out into fresh air once while doing a week's worth of paperwork, and he had spent more time behind her desk than his own. His hand, moving down her back and radiating warmth like a searing iron, had kept her hot and bothered all day and in a state of almost constant nervousness and squirming in her seat, and when he pointed at her screen now and moved his fingers back up her shoulder, she couldn't help the growl that escaped her lips. Her own hand shot up, and she grabbed his wrist to still the movement that was distracting her so very much.
He blinked, staring down at her death grip on his wrist in confusion, then raised a questioning eyebrow.
"Stop. Taking. Liberties," she hissed, her eyes still fixed on her screen but narrowing in an angry frown.
His eyes widened a bit. "What... liberties?"
She dragged his hand away from her body roughly, raising it higher to reveal the strand of her hair he had brought along with it, still wrapped around his fingers. "This kind of liberties. Stop it. Right now."
He was silent for so long that she began to think she might even have to hurt him to get a reaction, and boy, she was more than ready for that by now. And then he just sighed and rubbed her lock of hair between his fingertips. "I'm trying. But it's hard."
She dropped his wrist as if his skin had burned her, and her eyes narrowed even more. "It was just one kiss, Tony. There is no reason to keep obsessing about it."
"Who says I'm obsessing?" he protested, and she could hear a faint anger rising in his own voice now, too. "Just because I like touching you? We always did that."
"No, because you clearly enjoy taking the liberties you think I may have granted you with that kiss," she replied, trying to keep her voice low even if the office was empty except for them by now. Taking a deep breath, she resumed typing and tried to ignore his presence as best as she could.
And then she heard his snort, and while he leaned in so close that she felt his breath against her cheek, she heard him murmur softly, "If it were that easy, you'd just plant another on me to prove how little it actually meant."
Her head whipped around at that, and the movement brought him so much into her face that it made her breath hitch in her throat. He did flinch at that, but didn't move away, and her eyes narrowed to slits while she met his speculative gaze. She knew it was a setup, of course, but she could no longer fight down the annoyance in her gut, and so she jumped to her feet and let her rage take over control. He moved with her easily, but didn't leave her personal space while she leaned back against her desk, staring at him defiantly, and it crossed her mind that he had done all this entirely on purpose. He was a sneaky bastard, she had to give him that.
"You think I couldn't do that?" she asked, picking up the challenge, and she knew it was a mistake the moment she said it. And while she couldn't stop the words that left her mouth, she wondered if she'd only taken his bait because... well, because she actually wanted to kiss him again. Her eyes dropped to his mouth for a second, and she saw his tempting lips struggle with a slight smile that made her pulse race, just like that.
He still didn't draw back. He actually leaned closer into her, over her, until his chest was almost touching her, and she felt her lips part involuntarily because he was just so big sometimes it wasn't healthy. Not intimidating-big, but rather the kind of big to cling to and be pressed into the sheets by all night. She leaned back against her desk and tried not to draw back too obviously, but the closer he came, the more she felt like running away screaming. Either that... or jump his bones right now, and hope that there was indeed no other agent left around to watch the spectacle.
He was staring at her so intensely now that her perception narrowed down to the tiny world of her desk and the one invading it, with conquer on his mind. "Well, can you?" he asked eventually, and her pulse jumped even harder at the question whispered softly against her mouth.
She couldn't think about his question, really, because there seemed to be no rational thought left, only the heady rush of something she should in all honesty have called arousal, something that was tightening in her stomach and lower and made goose bumps run up and down her spine. Her hands clenched around the edge of her desk, and her eyes fluttered shut while she closed the last of the distance and pressed her lips to his.
His breath caught in his throat because that did surprise him, after all, but then he moved with her so easily, leaning into her, over her. Resting his palms on her desk, on both sides of her hips. Not touching her except for the busy mouth that welcomed her so eagerly, inviting her to do more than just brush lips. And oh, how inviting it was.
She felt a shudder run through her at the way his mouth moved against hers, softly, cautiously, his lips barely parted and offering only slightly more than the fleeting, meaningless caress she had spoken about. He even drew back a bit when she leaned into him, teasing her, daring her to come after him, and it made a moan rise in her throat that, in turn, sent a soft tremble through his body.
His hands stayed on her desk, though, and he was so carefully trying to leave her the lead in this that it drove her mad with the sudden need for more. Just his lips weren't enough, just feeling his big chest loom over her wasn't enough, and so her tongue pushed into his mouth, tasting him, making him groan so easily until his breath came in harsh puffs against her cheek. He tasted so overwhelmingly good that it made her head spin, and she gasped into his mouth and arched her back until she could press against his chest and feel his strong muscles flex against hers.
The sudden contact made them both jerk, and she drew back, panting. His face was still so disconcertingly close, his eyes so dark with something heavy all of a sudden, and she felt one of his hands at the small of her back, fingers underneath her top and splayed against her bare skin, pressing her closer. He'd lost a bit of his composure after all.
"What now?" he asked roughly, and her gaze dropped to his lips. So enticingly curved. So delicious. So utterly dangerous.
She felt his chest move against hers while he tried to get his breathing back under control, and she thought about what she wanted to do now, indeed. She could draw back and pretend this had never happened and keep it safe and sound and moderately sane, for God knew how many years to come. She thought about the effort it would take to step back now. To let go of him. To never touch him like that again.
Then her thoughts switched to how it would be to touch him even more intimately. To run her hands up his impossibly broad chest and slide her fingers underneath the fabric of his shirt where it gaped open and further up his neck. To slowly open the buttons of his shirt and drag her fingernails over his skin. To run her lips over that same skin and lick him all over and explore what he tasted like on the outside.
And all of a sudden, she couldn't help but think that certain liberties weren't the worst thing in the world two people could share.
"Well," she said, and her voice was so low that she could see the way his eyes darkened further at that. His hand, still at her back, pressed her even closer, and her answer came so easily. Because, in all honesty, there hadn't been much of a choice in the first place. "You're the one who wanted to get it on on the table."
She saw him struggle to form coherent words and had to bite back the smile that would give her away, and finally, he managed to blink and say, "Out. Getting it out on the table."
"Are you sure?" she asked playfully and slid her leg between his, and that crossed the line and changed the mood so hard and fast it made them both reel.
"Mostly, yeah," he breathed into her face, and there was a rough urgency in his voice that hadn't been there just a minute before. He moved with her, and she gasped at the way his body tightened against hers when she followed her previous impulse and ran her hands up his chest, slowly, feeling him up, exploring the hard muscle underneath his shirt. He shuddered when her fingertips brushed his nipples. Sensitive. How... interesting. She smiled against his mouth and did it again, and that got a highly noticeable reaction out of his body.
"And that's not taking liberties?" he gasped and leaned into her to lick her mouth.
"Not yet," she murmured and slid one arm around his waist, then let her exploring hand trail down his back and to his ass. "But I'm getting there."
.
setting: NCIS, about a week after 7x18 "Jurisdiction" and a sequel to "Adventurous", where they did the movie date and a bit more. No spoilers in here, really, just smoochies. ;)
word count: around 1,900
comments & feedback: very much appreciated.
Enjoy.
Liberated
by Sammy
One kiss that had happened out of a whim when she hadn't been thinking too clearly. Just one brush of the lips, one sharing of breath, and it had shifted their perception and opened floodgates they both hadn't known were there. After that kiss, it was hard to go back to normal and pretend it never happened, especially for Tony.
At least that was how it seemed like to Ziva.
He kept touching her involuntarily after that Friday night, sometimes just nudging her arm, other times brushing his hand down her back distractedly, mostly for no good reason at all but the simple comfort of touch. Oh yes, he had done that before, but never with the intensity and frequency he was showing lately. He also made a habit out of leaning in closer than usual when he was looking over her shoulder at her monitor, and that, too, happened more often than it had just a week ago. Sometimes he even played with her hair, and that was so much crossing the line it even earned him a headslap once.
Most of the time he didn't even seem to notice what he was doing, though, and that made it so hard for her to ignore it and even harder to think of a way to make him stop. It was as if he had found just another way of taunting her and was pouncing on it like a kid would abuse a new toy to the limit of breaking. His constant presence and his strangely intimate ways around her were driving her mad, slowly. No, actually - they were driving her mad rather rapidly.
He was at her side again the night she finally snapped. They'd been here all day, cramped up behind their desks without getting out into fresh air once while doing a week's worth of paperwork, and he had spent more time behind her desk than his own. His hand, moving down her back and radiating warmth like a searing iron, had kept her hot and bothered all day and in a state of almost constant nervousness and squirming in her seat, and when he pointed at her screen now and moved his fingers back up her shoulder, she couldn't help the growl that escaped her lips. Her own hand shot up, and she grabbed his wrist to still the movement that was distracting her so very much.
He blinked, staring down at her death grip on his wrist in confusion, then raised a questioning eyebrow.
"Stop. Taking. Liberties," she hissed, her eyes still fixed on her screen but narrowing in an angry frown.
His eyes widened a bit. "What... liberties?"
She dragged his hand away from her body roughly, raising it higher to reveal the strand of her hair he had brought along with it, still wrapped around his fingers. "This kind of liberties. Stop it. Right now."
He was silent for so long that she began to think she might even have to hurt him to get a reaction, and boy, she was more than ready for that by now. And then he just sighed and rubbed her lock of hair between his fingertips. "I'm trying. But it's hard."
She dropped his wrist as if his skin had burned her, and her eyes narrowed even more. "It was just one kiss, Tony. There is no reason to keep obsessing about it."
"Who says I'm obsessing?" he protested, and she could hear a faint anger rising in his own voice now, too. "Just because I like touching you? We always did that."
"No, because you clearly enjoy taking the liberties you think I may have granted you with that kiss," she replied, trying to keep her voice low even if the office was empty except for them by now. Taking a deep breath, she resumed typing and tried to ignore his presence as best as she could.
And then she heard his snort, and while he leaned in so close that she felt his breath against her cheek, she heard him murmur softly, "If it were that easy, you'd just plant another on me to prove how little it actually meant."
Her head whipped around at that, and the movement brought him so much into her face that it made her breath hitch in her throat. He did flinch at that, but didn't move away, and her eyes narrowed to slits while she met his speculative gaze. She knew it was a setup, of course, but she could no longer fight down the annoyance in her gut, and so she jumped to her feet and let her rage take over control. He moved with her easily, but didn't leave her personal space while she leaned back against her desk, staring at him defiantly, and it crossed her mind that he had done all this entirely on purpose. He was a sneaky bastard, she had to give him that.
"You think I couldn't do that?" she asked, picking up the challenge, and she knew it was a mistake the moment she said it. And while she couldn't stop the words that left her mouth, she wondered if she'd only taken his bait because... well, because she actually wanted to kiss him again. Her eyes dropped to his mouth for a second, and she saw his tempting lips struggle with a slight smile that made her pulse race, just like that.
He still didn't draw back. He actually leaned closer into her, over her, until his chest was almost touching her, and she felt her lips part involuntarily because he was just so big sometimes it wasn't healthy. Not intimidating-big, but rather the kind of big to cling to and be pressed into the sheets by all night. She leaned back against her desk and tried not to draw back too obviously, but the closer he came, the more she felt like running away screaming. Either that... or jump his bones right now, and hope that there was indeed no other agent left around to watch the spectacle.
He was staring at her so intensely now that her perception narrowed down to the tiny world of her desk and the one invading it, with conquer on his mind. "Well, can you?" he asked eventually, and her pulse jumped even harder at the question whispered softly against her mouth.
She couldn't think about his question, really, because there seemed to be no rational thought left, only the heady rush of something she should in all honesty have called arousal, something that was tightening in her stomach and lower and made goose bumps run up and down her spine. Her hands clenched around the edge of her desk, and her eyes fluttered shut while she closed the last of the distance and pressed her lips to his.
His breath caught in his throat because that did surprise him, after all, but then he moved with her so easily, leaning into her, over her. Resting his palms on her desk, on both sides of her hips. Not touching her except for the busy mouth that welcomed her so eagerly, inviting her to do more than just brush lips. And oh, how inviting it was.
She felt a shudder run through her at the way his mouth moved against hers, softly, cautiously, his lips barely parted and offering only slightly more than the fleeting, meaningless caress she had spoken about. He even drew back a bit when she leaned into him, teasing her, daring her to come after him, and it made a moan rise in her throat that, in turn, sent a soft tremble through his body.
His hands stayed on her desk, though, and he was so carefully trying to leave her the lead in this that it drove her mad with the sudden need for more. Just his lips weren't enough, just feeling his big chest loom over her wasn't enough, and so her tongue pushed into his mouth, tasting him, making him groan so easily until his breath came in harsh puffs against her cheek. He tasted so overwhelmingly good that it made her head spin, and she gasped into his mouth and arched her back until she could press against his chest and feel his strong muscles flex against hers.
The sudden contact made them both jerk, and she drew back, panting. His face was still so disconcertingly close, his eyes so dark with something heavy all of a sudden, and she felt one of his hands at the small of her back, fingers underneath her top and splayed against her bare skin, pressing her closer. He'd lost a bit of his composure after all.
"What now?" he asked roughly, and her gaze dropped to his lips. So enticingly curved. So delicious. So utterly dangerous.
She felt his chest move against hers while he tried to get his breathing back under control, and she thought about what she wanted to do now, indeed. She could draw back and pretend this had never happened and keep it safe and sound and moderately sane, for God knew how many years to come. She thought about the effort it would take to step back now. To let go of him. To never touch him like that again.
Then her thoughts switched to how it would be to touch him even more intimately. To run her hands up his impossibly broad chest and slide her fingers underneath the fabric of his shirt where it gaped open and further up his neck. To slowly open the buttons of his shirt and drag her fingernails over his skin. To run her lips over that same skin and lick him all over and explore what he tasted like on the outside.
And all of a sudden, she couldn't help but think that certain liberties weren't the worst thing in the world two people could share.
"Well," she said, and her voice was so low that she could see the way his eyes darkened further at that. His hand, still at her back, pressed her even closer, and her answer came so easily. Because, in all honesty, there hadn't been much of a choice in the first place. "You're the one who wanted to get it on on the table."
She saw him struggle to form coherent words and had to bite back the smile that would give her away, and finally, he managed to blink and say, "Out. Getting it out on the table."
"Are you sure?" she asked playfully and slid her leg between his, and that crossed the line and changed the mood so hard and fast it made them both reel.
"Mostly, yeah," he breathed into her face, and there was a rough urgency in his voice that hadn't been there just a minute before. He moved with her, and she gasped at the way his body tightened against hers when she followed her previous impulse and ran her hands up his chest, slowly, feeling him up, exploring the hard muscle underneath his shirt. He shuddered when her fingertips brushed his nipples. Sensitive. How... interesting. She smiled against his mouth and did it again, and that got a highly noticeable reaction out of his body.
"And that's not taking liberties?" he gasped and leaned into her to lick her mouth.
"Not yet," she murmured and slid one arm around his waist, then let her exploring hand trail down his back and to his ass. "But I'm getting there."
.