Falling
A continuation of Ice Cream & Messes but can definitely be read as a one-shot.
This one is slightly more angsty (but we all love angst, don’t we?).
:)
Title: Falling
Rated R
Summary: Reid wakes up with Luke by his side and feels his walls crumbling down.
P/S: Thank you so much to the encouraging feedback you guys have left me for the first fic I wrote! Once again, feedback of any kind would be lovely for this one too :)
Reid wakes up to the sensation of lips pressing gently against the back of his neck. His hand subconsciously tightens around the arm wound around his waist, insistent and possessive, yet breathing a slight plea to stay, please stay. He smiles as he feels the shape of a bruise growing delicately at the side of his neck, automatically pressing his head harder into his pillow to allow his captor more access to skin.
Captor? Mmm - must be going crazy, but - mmm - yeah like that.
An insistent pair of lips inches closer to his jaw, his chin, finally a tongue darts in almost greedily into his eager mouth, rendering his very intellectual brain numb with incoherent thoughts.
It’s just sex. Just sex. This doesn’t mean anything. It’s only, just, sex - yeah, like that.
He feels himself drowning in a pool of sunshine hair, sunshine eyes, sunshine skin, unwilling to submit himself completely to the tingling he feels in his toes that can only signal danger to the lonely wall standing inside of him. With every dimpled kiss, a brick is knocked off, quite gracefully, until he feels warmth flooding through him. Unbeknownst to him, his hands are creeping up into the blonde hair, urging their faces closer, closer, closer.
No, this is not love. Just sex. A fling-like situation. Until that blind guy gets his sight back. Until I restore his sight. Me. Giving him his sight, giving him his love. Me. Losing out. Yeah, just sex. No broken hearts.
He shuts his eyes tight, as he allows his body to indulge in the pleasure of the resultant heat that skin makes against another, the wet and the sharp, the hitches and the lows of their breaths, the push and the pull, the truth and the lie of everything between them.
Yeah, like that, like that, like that.
…
He wakes up a second time, staring at the ceiling, feeling the gentle breathing against his shoulder. He glances briefly at the sleeping face next to him, before slowly getting out of bed, refusing to linger and think - god forbid, he is not going to think - and makes his way quietly to his bathroom, ready to cleanse his body from every touch, every kiss, every inch of Luke that seems to have embedded itself into his flesh.
The water is warm, the way water can only provide warmth, reminiscent of the heat he felt earlier but not quite, not alike. He stands motionless, letting the rain of shower drops strip him away, strip him down, so he can return to being himself the way he knows best. Dr. Reid Oliver, neurosurgeon, not Reid Reid Reid the way Luke pronounces his name like both a cry of salvation and a fall from grace.
He has no idea how long he stayed under the torrent of water before the door opens, and there Luke stands, pouty and disheveled, rubbing his eyes like an innocent child who has just recently discovered that his mommy forgot to buy him ice-cream. Almost immediately, that sleepy naivety switched into profound lust as he watches Reid, naked and wet, like a delicious treat he can have all for himself.
Wordlessly, Reid realizes that his feet had shuffled backwards until he feels the cold bathroom wall against him, Luke standing just a hair’s breath away. He hears only his racing heart in his ears, as he feels Luke’s eyes survey him up and down. Luke leaves a peck of a kiss against his lower lip before Reid hears himself mutter, almost beyond his control.
“It’s slippery in here. I might - we might - fall.”
He feels Luke grin against his ear.
“I’ll catch you, if you fall. Okay?”
In spite of himself, Reid’s face breaks into an easy smile.
“Okay.”
This one is slightly more angsty (but we all love angst, don’t we?).
:)
Title: Falling
Rated R
Summary: Reid wakes up with Luke by his side and feels his walls crumbling down.
P/S: Thank you so much to the encouraging feedback you guys have left me for the first fic I wrote! Once again, feedback of any kind would be lovely for this one too :)
Reid wakes up to the sensation of lips pressing gently against the back of his neck. His hand subconsciously tightens around the arm wound around his waist, insistent and possessive, yet breathing a slight plea to stay, please stay. He smiles as he feels the shape of a bruise growing delicately at the side of his neck, automatically pressing his head harder into his pillow to allow his captor more access to skin.
Captor? Mmm - must be going crazy, but - mmm - yeah like that.
An insistent pair of lips inches closer to his jaw, his chin, finally a tongue darts in almost greedily into his eager mouth, rendering his very intellectual brain numb with incoherent thoughts.
It’s just sex. Just sex. This doesn’t mean anything. It’s only, just, sex - yeah, like that.
He feels himself drowning in a pool of sunshine hair, sunshine eyes, sunshine skin, unwilling to submit himself completely to the tingling he feels in his toes that can only signal danger to the lonely wall standing inside of him. With every dimpled kiss, a brick is knocked off, quite gracefully, until he feels warmth flooding through him. Unbeknownst to him, his hands are creeping up into the blonde hair, urging their faces closer, closer, closer.
No, this is not love. Just sex. A fling-like situation. Until that blind guy gets his sight back. Until I restore his sight. Me. Giving him his sight, giving him his love. Me. Losing out. Yeah, just sex. No broken hearts.
He shuts his eyes tight, as he allows his body to indulge in the pleasure of the resultant heat that skin makes against another, the wet and the sharp, the hitches and the lows of their breaths, the push and the pull, the truth and the lie of everything between them.
Yeah, like that, like that, like that.
…
He wakes up a second time, staring at the ceiling, feeling the gentle breathing against his shoulder. He glances briefly at the sleeping face next to him, before slowly getting out of bed, refusing to linger and think - god forbid, he is not going to think - and makes his way quietly to his bathroom, ready to cleanse his body from every touch, every kiss, every inch of Luke that seems to have embedded itself into his flesh.
The water is warm, the way water can only provide warmth, reminiscent of the heat he felt earlier but not quite, not alike. He stands motionless, letting the rain of shower drops strip him away, strip him down, so he can return to being himself the way he knows best. Dr. Reid Oliver, neurosurgeon, not Reid Reid Reid the way Luke pronounces his name like both a cry of salvation and a fall from grace.
He has no idea how long he stayed under the torrent of water before the door opens, and there Luke stands, pouty and disheveled, rubbing his eyes like an innocent child who has just recently discovered that his mommy forgot to buy him ice-cream. Almost immediately, that sleepy naivety switched into profound lust as he watches Reid, naked and wet, like a delicious treat he can have all for himself.
Wordlessly, Reid realizes that his feet had shuffled backwards until he feels the cold bathroom wall against him, Luke standing just a hair’s breath away. He hears only his racing heart in his ears, as he feels Luke’s eyes survey him up and down. Luke leaves a peck of a kiss against his lower lip before Reid hears himself mutter, almost beyond his control.
“It’s slippery in here. I might - we might - fall.”
He feels Luke grin against his ear.
“I’ll catch you, if you fall. Okay?”
In spite of himself, Reid’s face breaks into an easy smile.
“Okay.”